Safe Haven - Part 9
Mar. 12th, 2008 04:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
diandrahollman
E-Mail: diandrahollman@yahoo.com
Website: http://diandrahollman.tripod.com/index.h
Rating: PG-13 to R for language and violence.
Keywords: Crossover, Alias/X-Files/Lost, slash, Vaughn/Mulder, Jack, hurt/comfort, angst
Spoilers: Only if you never watched season 5 of Alias or any season of Lost.
Disclaimer: All characters from The X-Files belong to Chris Carter and 1013. All other non-original characters belong to JJ Abrams and Bad Robot. I will put most of them back when I'm done with them, but I can't make any promises about Vaughn. The nurse is mine; any resemblance to the coroner on CSI: Miami is purely coincidental.
Author's Notes: See first chapter.
Previously
************
(7 months later)
"We're not gonna get anywhere with this guy until we get a shrink in there."
"While you're at it, you should call a priest," I suggested.
Doggett stopped dialing for a moment to shoot me an annoyed look. "This may surprise you, but not everything can be explained by aliens and demon possession. Sometimes people are just crazy."
"I agree, but there's a line between mental illness and the paranormal and this guy is definitely erring on the side of The Exorcist."
"Let's see what the psychologist has to say," Scully offered placatingly. "We need to at least consider the possibility that all of this can be explained by a chemical imbalance in the brain."
I opened my mouth to reply but was cut off by the loud ring of my cell phone. "Just a minute," I muttered, fishing the offending phone from my pocket and stepping away from my partners to answer. "Mulder."
"Mulder, it's Sydney."
I froze. The tone of her voice told me immediately that this was not good news.
"It's Vaughn. I...don't know how to say this. He's dead..."
My breath caught. I felt like I'd been sucker punched. The ground beneath me seemed to tilt dizzyingly and I sank to the nearest flat surface - one of the uncomfortable chairs in the police station hall. "What," I gasped when I had summoned up enough breath to speak. "Where are you?" It had to be a mistake...he couldn't be gone.
She took a deep, stabilizing breath. "I'm on a plane...on my way to Los Angeles. They found him, Mulder. They got him."
I blinked, feeling the tears spring to my eyes, my mouth forming a silent scream.
"He was meeting with a contact in Italy," she continued, her voice thick and unsteady. "Some men showed up...I couldn't get to him in time. The doctors tried to save him, but...there was too much damage..."
"Mulder," Scully's concerned voice came from nearby. I reached out to her blindly, my hand finding hers and squeezing desperately. She squeezed back. This couldn't be happening. This had to be some elaborate, cosmic joke.
"I'm sorry," Sydney whispered. "I'm so sorry."
I closed my eyes and cursed every higher power I could think of. He had just started opening up to me...
"I'll arrange the funeral. You just...get here. Don't worry about a hotel. You can stay with me."
I nodded, tears filling my eyes. "Yeah," I said, my voice cracking. "I can be there tomorrow."
"Okay," she said quietly. "Call me when you land and I'll pick you up."
I said a shaky goodbye and hung up, turning to meet Scully's questioning gaze. "Vaughn's dead," I whispered.
Her face softened slightly and she wordlessly pulled me into a hug. I closed my eyes and felt a couple lone tears break free, falling onto the shoulder of her neatly pressed suit. "What do you need me to do," she asked gently.
"I need to go to Los Angeles as soon as possible," I mumbled, feeling a numbness settle in.
"What's goin' on," Doggett asked, appearing suddenly beside us.
"Agent Vaughn died," Scully explained softly.
Doggett's lips set in a grim line and he nodded. "I've got this," he told Scully, gesturing toward the interrogation room. "You can go. I'll cover for you."
Scully reached to squeeze his hand and smiled. "Thanks, John." Doggett nodded awkwardly and left us alone. "Come on," she coaxed gently. "I'll take you home."
**********
(36 hours later)
I sat on Sydney's couch listlessly, watching her pour a glass of water and set it down on the coffee table. She had said very little since picking me up at the airport. Now she sat in front of me and reached for my hands, squeezing firmly and waiting for my eyes to meet hers. "I'm so sorry I had to lie to you," she began. "Vaughn's alive."
I blinked at her, certain my mind was playing a cruel trick on me. "What?"
"What I told you was partly true. He was shot...eight times...but he survived. My father convinced him that he wasn't in any condition to fight if Prophet 5 tried again so we faked his death. I couldn't tell you before because you, me and my father are the only people who can know he's alive. As long as Prophet 5 believes he's dead he's safe."
My brain sputtered into high gear. "Where is he?"
"He's safe," she replied carefully. "We can take you to him but you have to disappear."
"What do you mean?"
"Vaughn's father was involved in some sort of project. We don't know what their objective was yet but we know that everyone directly involved in the project is dead. Prophet 5 has been very careful to cover their tracks and they're willing to kill anyone who gets too close."
"And you think they would come after me," I asked, baffled.
"Vaughn told me he didn't tell you about all of this before because he wanted to protect you. He didn't want to drag you into this - put you in danger...but Prophet 5 doesn't know that. You're his lover. You're closer to him than anybody - they have to assume you know what he knows."
She let go of my hands and reached for the newspaper that had been left nearby. "That's not all," she added. She handed the paper to me. The headline on the front page read "Search Called Off for Oceanic Flight 815". I had heard the story already. The search for flight 815 had been plastered across every paper and news broadcast since the plane had disappeared nearly a month ago. Search and rescue had given up hope of finding any survivors after three weeks. All passengers and crew were presumed dead.
"What does this have to do with..."
"Oceanic released the passenger manifest. Jack Shephard was on that plane."
It took a moment for the name to register. "The doctor?"
She nodded grimly. "His father was on the plane too. Jack was taking his body home for burial."
I reeled. "You think Prophet 5 did this?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "We had no reason to look into it until now. It could be a coincidence but we can't risk making assumptions. Prophet 5 has members in the upper levels of government in several countries. They're certainly capable of something like this. It's possible they were trying to send us a message - convince us to back off."
I nodded stupidly. None of this would surprise me, but it made me sick to think that these people would go to such extreme lengths to murder an innocent man just because he had helped protect Vaughn from them. "But why his father? And why an airplane? If they wanted to make a statement they could have just used a car bomb. Why kill two hundred innocent people just to eliminate two men - one of whom was already dead?"
"Christian was Jack's father *and* his superior. They probably assumed he knew what Jack was doing - possibly that he helped Vaughn's escape or at least covered for Jack. They may not have anticipated Christian would be dead before he got on the plane. And there was another man...someone who was working for the CIA. That's why this was brought to our attention. Whoever is behind this may have had multiple targets."
My head spun. "I helped Vaughn get out of that hospital too. Why didn't they go after me first?"
She shook her head. "Like I said, it could be just a coincidence. We need to look into it further before we can say anything certain. But even if it's just a coincidence and Prophet 5 had nothing to do with Jack's death...you're close enough to this for them to believe you could pose a threat. We have to assume you're in danger."
I nodded and took a deep breath. "Okay. What do I have to do?"
Next chapter
"We're not gonna get anywhere with this guy until we get a shrink in there."
"While you're at it, you should call a priest," I suggested.
Doggett stopped dialing for a moment to shoot me an annoyed look. "This may surprise you, but not everything can be explained by aliens and demon possession. Sometimes people are just crazy."
"I agree, but there's a line between mental illness and the paranormal and this guy is definitely erring on the side of The Exorcist."
"Let's see what the psychologist has to say," Scully offered placatingly. "We need to at least consider the possibility that all of this can be explained by a chemical imbalance in the brain."
I opened my mouth to reply but was cut off by the loud ring of my cell phone. "Just a minute," I muttered, fishing the offending phone from my pocket and stepping away from my partners to answer. "Mulder."
"Mulder, it's Sydney."
I froze. The tone of her voice told me immediately that this was not good news.
"It's Vaughn. I...don't know how to say this. He's dead..."
My breath caught. I felt like I'd been sucker punched. The ground beneath me seemed to tilt dizzyingly and I sank to the nearest flat surface - one of the uncomfortable chairs in the police station hall. "What," I gasped when I had summoned up enough breath to speak. "Where are you?" It had to be a mistake...he couldn't be gone.
She took a deep, stabilizing breath. "I'm on a plane...on my way to Los Angeles. They found him, Mulder. They got him."
I blinked, feeling the tears spring to my eyes, my mouth forming a silent scream.
"He was meeting with a contact in Italy," she continued, her voice thick and unsteady. "Some men showed up...I couldn't get to him in time. The doctors tried to save him, but...there was too much damage..."
"Mulder," Scully's concerned voice came from nearby. I reached out to her blindly, my hand finding hers and squeezing desperately. She squeezed back. This couldn't be happening. This had to be some elaborate, cosmic joke.
"I'm sorry," Sydney whispered. "I'm so sorry."
I closed my eyes and cursed every higher power I could think of. He had just started opening up to me...
"I'll arrange the funeral. You just...get here. Don't worry about a hotel. You can stay with me."
I nodded, tears filling my eyes. "Yeah," I said, my voice cracking. "I can be there tomorrow."
"Okay," she said quietly. "Call me when you land and I'll pick you up."
I said a shaky goodbye and hung up, turning to meet Scully's questioning gaze. "Vaughn's dead," I whispered.
Her face softened slightly and she wordlessly pulled me into a hug. I closed my eyes and felt a couple lone tears break free, falling onto the shoulder of her neatly pressed suit. "What do you need me to do," she asked gently.
"I need to go to Los Angeles as soon as possible," I mumbled, feeling a numbness settle in.
"What's goin' on," Doggett asked, appearing suddenly beside us.
"Agent Vaughn died," Scully explained softly.
Doggett's lips set in a grim line and he nodded. "I've got this," he told Scully, gesturing toward the interrogation room. "You can go. I'll cover for you."
Scully reached to squeeze his hand and smiled. "Thanks, John." Doggett nodded awkwardly and left us alone. "Come on," she coaxed gently. "I'll take you home."
**********
(36 hours later)
I sat on Sydney's couch listlessly, watching her pour a glass of water and set it down on the coffee table. She had said very little since picking me up at the airport. Now she sat in front of me and reached for my hands, squeezing firmly and waiting for my eyes to meet hers. "I'm so sorry I had to lie to you," she began. "Vaughn's alive."
I blinked at her, certain my mind was playing a cruel trick on me. "What?"
"What I told you was partly true. He was shot...eight times...but he survived. My father convinced him that he wasn't in any condition to fight if Prophet 5 tried again so we faked his death. I couldn't tell you before because you, me and my father are the only people who can know he's alive. As long as Prophet 5 believes he's dead he's safe."
My brain sputtered into high gear. "Where is he?"
"He's safe," she replied carefully. "We can take you to him but you have to disappear."
"What do you mean?"
"Vaughn's father was involved in some sort of project. We don't know what their objective was yet but we know that everyone directly involved in the project is dead. Prophet 5 has been very careful to cover their tracks and they're willing to kill anyone who gets too close."
"And you think they would come after me," I asked, baffled.
"Vaughn told me he didn't tell you about all of this before because he wanted to protect you. He didn't want to drag you into this - put you in danger...but Prophet 5 doesn't know that. You're his lover. You're closer to him than anybody - they have to assume you know what he knows."
She let go of my hands and reached for the newspaper that had been left nearby. "That's not all," she added. She handed the paper to me. The headline on the front page read "Search Called Off for Oceanic Flight 815". I had heard the story already. The search for flight 815 had been plastered across every paper and news broadcast since the plane had disappeared nearly a month ago. Search and rescue had given up hope of finding any survivors after three weeks. All passengers and crew were presumed dead.
"What does this have to do with..."
"Oceanic released the passenger manifest. Jack Shephard was on that plane."
It took a moment for the name to register. "The doctor?"
She nodded grimly. "His father was on the plane too. Jack was taking his body home for burial."
I reeled. "You think Prophet 5 did this?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "We had no reason to look into it until now. It could be a coincidence but we can't risk making assumptions. Prophet 5 has members in the upper levels of government in several countries. They're certainly capable of something like this. It's possible they were trying to send us a message - convince us to back off."
I nodded stupidly. None of this would surprise me, but it made me sick to think that these people would go to such extreme lengths to murder an innocent man just because he had helped protect Vaughn from them. "But why his father? And why an airplane? If they wanted to make a statement they could have just used a car bomb. Why kill two hundred innocent people just to eliminate two men - one of whom was already dead?"
"Christian was Jack's father *and* his superior. They probably assumed he knew what Jack was doing - possibly that he helped Vaughn's escape or at least covered for Jack. They may not have anticipated Christian would be dead before he got on the plane. And there was another man...someone who was working for the CIA. That's why this was brought to our attention. Whoever is behind this may have had multiple targets."
My head spun. "I helped Vaughn get out of that hospital too. Why didn't they go after me first?"
She shook her head. "Like I said, it could be just a coincidence. We need to look into it further before we can say anything certain. But even if it's just a coincidence and Prophet 5 had nothing to do with Jack's death...you're close enough to this for them to believe you could pose a threat. We have to assume you're in danger."
I nodded and took a deep breath. "Okay. What do I have to do?"
Next chapter
