Title: Chains of Self
Rating: NC-17
Timeline: Between season 2 and 3, during Sydney's missing two years.
Disclaimer: The character and Alias
universe belong to JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.
Summary: Vaughn turns to Sark for help in finding Sydney. (Vaughn/Sark)
Feedback: Always welcome. You can email me at lunasky @ gmail.com or
leave a comment here.
A/N: Much beta love to daera23 and to queen_cutie for the beautiful artwork.
I wanna fit inside you
I wanna room inside you
If money talks I wanna buy you
I wanna die, I wanna die
I wanna live you
“You son of a bitch! What have you done!”
“Aghh!”
“Agent Vaughn you can’t be in here!”
“Mike what are you doing?”
Weiss grabbed Vaughn’s shoulders without really hearing him and hauled him away from Sark who was falling to the ground. Agent Adams was standing behind Sark trying to keep a hold of him.
“She’s gone! Weiss, she’s gone! Sydney’s gone! The house is ruined, it’s a mess, there’s blood everywhere…”
Sark had both of his hands around his throat, rubbing it slowly; the handcuffs clinging together.
“Mike, calm down! What are you talking about? What do you mean Sydney’s gone?”
Vaughn turned to his friend with his eyes frantic. The anger that had flashed across his face moments before had now morphed into a blinding panic. “We just heard from Emergency Services about a call to her house. I went right there…the house is trashed. There’s blood everywhere! Oh God…and she’s gone. The house is empty. They found her gun…it had been fired, four bullets are missing…oh God….” Vaughn grabbed Weiss’s arm to steady himself.
Eric looked closer at his friend. His hair was sticking up as if he’d been pulling at it, his tie was askew, and there was blood and dirt on his clothes. But it was the panic in Vaughn’s eyes though, that cut him to the bone. “Oh my God... Ok, Mike, calm down. Does Kendall already have a team there? Yes? Ok. What are you doing here? I have to transport Sark to Camp Harris tonight with Agent Adams. Let me call someone to take you home. Where’s Jack?”
Vaughn looked at Eric blankly until a movement caught his eye. Adams was helping Sark back up.
“But he knows what happened! I know he does! What the hell have you and Derevko cooked up?!”
“I haven’t done anything you crazy fuck!” Sark retorted still rubbing his neck. But Sark wrenched himself free of Adams and moved closer to Vaughn. Then he spit on Vaughn’s chest.
“Shut up Sark! Adams, restrain him! Mike, you have to get out of here. Did someone talk to Jack yet?”
But Vaughn didn’t even hear him. He was staring at the spot where Sark had spit on him and Eric barely had time to blink before Vaughn smashed his fist into Sark’s face. “What do you know you son of a bitch?!”
“MIKE!”
Sark fell back down to the floor as Vaughn nursed his right hand.
“Adams, get Sark out of here!” Weiss said to his partner before turning back to his friend. “Mike, get a hold of yourself! You can’t just assault a federal prisoner—”
Vaughn stared at his hand and refused to meet Eric’s eyes. Finally Eric reached forward and grabbed his arm.
“Where’s Jack, Vaughn?”
Vaughn rubbed his hand over his face before answering. “I don’t know.”
Eric squeezed his friends arm. “Look. Let me call someone to take over here. Then we can go find Jack and find out what’s going on. I’m sure Sydney’s fine.”
Vaughn finally looked up at his friend. “Sorry. I know. You’re right, she’s probably fine. I’m sorry Eric. I’m just so scared… I’m fine now though, I promise. You can let go of me. Go finish your transport. I’ll go and find Jack. Maybe he knows something or can find out something…I don’t know.”
“Mike—”
“I’m fine. Really. Go. I’m going to go find Jack.”
Weiss looked at the broken remnants of his friend and then back to Adams. Adams was having trouble with Sark and clearly couldn’t transport him alone. “Call me if you hear anything, ok?”
“Sure, Eric. No problem.” Vaughn mumbled as he turned absently towards the door.
Chapter 2 – Whispers
Words all fail the magic prize
Nothing I can say when I'm in your thighs
“Right this way Agent Vaughn.”
“Thanks.”
The guard opened the door to the private interrogation room and Vaughn followed him through as protocol dictated. It had been thirty six hours since he had discovered that Sydney was missing. It had been twenty seven hours since he had run into Weiss during his transport.
It had now been two hours since Kendall had ordered him to go home. Every second felt like a weight upon his shoulders.
Vaughn didn’t notice the guard’s wary glance towards him. Inside the room were a small table and two chairs. Sark sat patiently in the chair farthest from the door, his chained wrists resting on the table. A second guard stood quietly behind him.
As the door shut behind him, Vaughn tried to force himself to remain calm as he turned to Sark. “Ok, Sark. I know that you’ve been cooperating so far so I’m just going to ask you this once. I want to know where Sydney is.”
“I don’t know. I swear.”
“Fuck you!” Vaughn’s thin mask cracked as he picked up Sark from his chair, spun him around and pushed his head down onto the table. “I know you know where she is. It’s been two days. Now where is she!”
“…don’t know. Wasn’t …part of the plan…”
“What?” Vaughn said, finally releasing his grip on Sark’s head, as the guard intervened.
“I don’t know where she is. Kidnapping Sydney was never part of the plan. If Sloane or Irina had wanted her they could easily have taken her any number of times before.” Sark paused and rubbed his face. “You said the other day that the house was ruined and it was empty?”
Vaughn angrily stepped away. “I’m the one asking question here. Not you. We accessed Syd’s voicemail. Will found out that Francie was the clone. Francie was really Allison Doren. Does that ring any bells?”
Sark’s face paled.
“Does it ring any bells?” Vaughn repeated himself, his voice tight with anger.
Sark whispered an inaudible response which only served to infuriate Vaughn further. Vaughn grabbed Sark’s chest and slammed him back down onto the table.
“What the hell have you done!”
Sark tried to speak but his voice only came out as a gurgle. Vaughn leaned closer so that his face was only inches away from Sark’s.
“You’re going to tell me everything you know or I am going to make your life a living hell, do you understand me!” Vaughn spoke directly into Sark’s face, forcing Sark to blink as his breath beat across his nose and mouth.
Sark looked directly into Vaughn’s eyes and whispered. “...want intel…ask me without the CIA.”
Vaughn picked up Sark and slammed him back down onto the table. “Don’t ever fucking whisper at me again.” Vaughn spat out as he released Sark and waved the guard away.
Straightening his tie, Vaughn shot one last glance at Sark who was still leaning on the table, turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.
Chapter 3 - Freeze Frame
Hey little darling, Your love is legendary
Love's four letters, Ain't in my dictionary
Scuse my position, But it ain't missionary
“Thank you Agent Jones. Would you mind excusing me and leaving
me with the prisoner for a few minutes?”
Agent Jones looked at Vaughn hesitantly. “Um…”
Vaughn held up his hands to interrupt. “I really must apologize for my outbursts yesterday. I know he hasn’t been approved yet for unrestricted interrogation. But we need Mr. Sark to help us with an investigation regarding one of our missing agents. I’m just going to talk to him today, I promise. I need to be able to submit my recommendations regarding his usefulness by noon today.”
Agent Jones thought over Vaughn’s statement and finally nodded his head. “Sure, Agent Vaughn. Just knock on the door when you’re done and one of the guards will let you out.”
The door swung quietly shut, leaving Vaughn standing in the interrogation room with Sark sitting by the small table.
“Why Agent Vaughn. How nice to see you again. I hope that you haven’t come all this way just to try and crush my windpipe again.”
“Shut up Sark.” Vaughn started to pace around the room, making sure to keep his clenched fist tucked into his body and away from the security camera.
“What are you doing here?”
“I said, shut the fuck up Sark.”
“Fine.”
Vaughn paced around Sark for a minute and then sat down across from him. Sark glanced up at him and held his stare.
For a few minutes they sat there, glaring at each other, neither willing to look away. Vaughn’s eyes sparkled with anger and thinly-veiled desperation, while Sark’s were cold and blue.
Vaughn was the first to break their staring contest as he stood up and started to pace around the room again. Sark followed him with his eyes, but didn’t say another word.
After ten minutes, Vaughn knocked on the door and the guard came back in. Without a word Vaughn turned around and left and Sark’s eyes followed him out the door.
Chapter 4 - Push and Pull
Whip crackin' floozie way out of control
She got a new kind of jelly in her jelly roll
I got the right key, baby, but the wrong key hole
“Agent Vaughn, four days in a row!” Sark’s even voice
greeted him across the small interrogation room. The sarcasm was palpable
only
because of the identity of the speaker. “To what do I owe this
unexpected honor?”
As soon as the door clicked quietly behind him, Vaughn grabbed Sark by the shoulders and threw him up against the wall. “You sorry son of a bitch. I hope you rot in hell. Now you are going to tell me exactly what you did to her!”
“Ahhgg. If you really want me up against the wall, you don’t have to be so rough. I’m not into near strangulation acts.”
“You fucking wish.” Vaughn slammed him further into the wall before finally releasing him.
Sark sighed as he rubbed his throat. “No as a matter of fact I don’t wish. Surprisingly enough, I don’t derive any sexual pleasure from sadomasochistic practices. You however, seem to be the one hell bent on slamming me up against walls with your hands at my throat. Didn’t they teach you anything about interrogation techniques at the CIA? The person you’re interrogating can’t exactly answer your questions if they’re choking to death.”
“Shut up Sark.”
“Tell me this, tell me that. Shut up. Make up you’re fucking mind.” Sark spoke snidely.
Vaughn clenched his fists and glared at him.
“So are you going to tell me what yesterday was about? Or do you just enjoy having me dragged into this interrogation room just so you can stare at me for half an hour and pace around the room?”
Vaughn unclenched his fist and took a deep breath. “I was making a surveillance tape so that I could loop it. So now that the CIA’s not watching you, you’re going to tell me everything that you know about Sydney’s disappearance, or I am going to throttle you with my bare hands.”
Sark stared at him for a moment with a look of shock mixed in with a little bit if admiration. “I don’t know anything about her disappearance,” he said quietly.
“You fucking bastard!” Fury contorted Vaughn’s face as he threw his fist at Sark’s face dropping him to the floor.
“Don’t lie to me!” Vaughn screamed.
Sark looked up at him, dabbing his nose with the back of his hand. “I am not lying to you Agent Vaughn. Sydney was not supposed to disappear.”
“But she was supposed to be involved in something!”
Sark shrugged. “Well, yes but—”
Vaughn grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, pulled him up off the floor and pinned him up against the wall again. “What have you done with her!”
“Agent Vaughn does it turn you on to keep hitting me? I am after all handcuffed and can’t defend myself.”
“Fuck you Sark.”
“Look, nothing was supposed to happen to Sydney, I swear.”
“So what was Doren doing there?
Sark smirked, “Just providing us with intel. That’s all. That was the extent of her purpose.”
Vaughn stared at him for a moment before releasing him. As he turned away, Sark continued. “By the way, that was a nice videotape.”
Vaughn whipped around and slammed Sark against the wall. “You sick bastard. Do you get off on that sort of thing? Invading other people’s privacy?”
Sark’s face clouded. “We gave up our illusion to privacy the moment we entered into this world.”
Again, they stood face to face, with their eyes locked in a silent battle.
“You’re going to start giving me answers now.” Vaughn spoke quietly, but his eyes were boring a hole through Sark’s head. Sark offered no rebuttal and eventually Vaughn was forced to release him.
Sark pushed himself off the wall and walked to the overturned chair. He righted the chair and then slowly sat down, his delay allowing the tension in the room to lower a bit. Finally he spoke. “Did you say that you found her house empty?”
Vaughn turned away from him, unwilling to look at Sark while not engaged in open conflict. “Empty, trashed and burned. Furniture was broken, blood was everywhere,” Vaughn responded, his voice sounding more than just a little hollow.
“What about her roommates?”
“You mean Allison Doren who wasn’t Francie or do you mean Will Tippin who was left for dead in the bathtub?”
“I see.”
Sark’s quiet voice ignited the anger within him again and Vaughn turned to face him. “Well I don’t. So you’d better fucking start explaining right now or that looped video tape is going to be protecting me more than it will be protecting you.”
Sark paused and then answered quietly, almost to himself. “She took care of Tippin. I didn’t think she’d be able to.”
Vaughn stared at him with a hard expression on his face. “Why? Do you actually think that she cared for him? I thought you and your kind were incapable of any feelings.”
“Fuck you.” Sark spat out, finally loosing his temper. Vaughn eyed Sark carefully but stayed silent. “Yes, Allison was turned into Sydney’s roommate. We needed an in with the CIA and she proved to be the key. Originally she was just supposed to provide intelligence on Sydney’s coming and goings and provide surveillance within the house. However, when it became obvious that a relationship had started to develop between Ms Calfo and Tippin and that on top of it Tippin was now working for the CIA, well that was just good luck on our part.”
“You killed Francie.” Vaughn stated.
“I did not. Allison killed her, if that makes any difference.”
“It doesn’t.”
Sark sighed. “I really don’t have any other intel to share that you’d find useful. You’re just wasting valuable time here with me.”
Vaughn’s face darkened. “You’re the only lead we have, so unless you can tell us something we’re at a dead end.”
Sark looked at him skeptically. “Somehow I doubt that Jack Bristow is standing idly by while you interrogate me.”
Vaughn stood up and turned away again. “Jack’s missing too. He was released from the hospital a few hours before Sydney disappeared.” Vaughn turned back to see a look of surprise on Sark’s face. “So the way I see it, there must be some connection between Jack, Sydney and Allison’s disappearance. The connection between Jack and Sydney is easy to understand therefore Allison’s the key. And Allison worked for you and Derevko. So I want to know what Irina was planning.”
Sark shook his head. “It doesn’t matter to me whether you believe this or not, but Irina would never hurt Jack or Sydney. Not badly anyways. She cares more about them than any of us. You say that Sydney shot Allison? If Allison was seriously hurt or dead, then Irina wouldn’t bother taking her. After all, Irina’s the one that gave me up, isn’t she?” Sark looked at Vaughn honestly, and the hurt of her betrayal was evident on his face.
Vaughn didn’t answer though; he just stared back at Sark.
Finally he got up. “You’re right. You don’t have any intel. This is just a waste of time.”
He turned and with one swift motion, knocked on the door ending their conversation.
Chapter 5 – Pointless Questions
Why can’t I get just one kiss
Why can’t I get just one kiss
Believe me there’d be somethings that I wouldn’t miss
But I look at your pants and I need I need a kiss
“Here you are Agent Vaughn. I’ll just be outside. Knock when
you’re
done.”
Vaughn nodded at the guard and turned into the room. Sark was once again sitting on the chair by the table but this time he was looking up at him darkly.
“Why are you back here again, Agent Vaughn? I thought we agreed yesterday that I have nothing worthwhile for you at the moment.”
Vaughn responded with a glare. “Director Kendall doesn’t want me on the case, so I’ve been tasked with getting other non vital information from you.”
Sark stood up angrily. “He’s willing to waste resources, now?”
Vaughn’s lips tightened in anger. “You don’t have to tell me about it! Look, why do you even care? I don’t want to be here either. Maybe if you just start talking then I can get out of here sooner.”
“And do what?” Sark snorted, his agitation replaced by contempt. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week, and you smell like that was the last time you had a shower as well.”
“What does that matter?”
Sark snorted.
“Let’s just start and get this over with, ok?” Vaughn pulled out a pen and paper and ignored the look on Sark’s face. “What’s your full name?”
Sark slapped the pad of paper out of Vaughn’s hands and it skidded across the floor. “Do you hear yourself? You’re wasting time, asking me about useless information.”
Vaughn threw Sark back into his seat. “Fuck you, ok? I’m doing what I have to with the hope that someone can then make a connection somewhere. You can either help me, or go into solitary.”
Sark returned Vaughn’s glare, but he didn’t say a word.
“Now what is your name?”
Sark continued to stare at him in silence.
Vaughn’s face tightened in anger. “Fine. How old are you?”
Silence, again.
Vaughn clenched his fist around the pen. “How long have you been working for Irina Derevko?”
“Ten years, off and on.”
Startled at the fact that Sark had actually answered and then at the actual answer itself, Vaughn looked up at him to see Sark looking at him levelly. “Ten years? How old are you?”
Sark closed his mouth, and Vaughn noticed that from his expression, Sark’s face could have been chiseled from stone.
Vaughn looked back down at his notes, unsettled. “Where did you meet Derevko?”
Sark sighed angrily. “She found me at a boarding school just outside of Dublin. I didn’t want to be there so she got me out. I’ve been in her employment since.”
“Why was Irina Derevko at a boarding school in Ireland?” Vaughn asked, curious in spite of himself.
Sark glared at the floor for a moment before looking back up. He always looked directly at Vaughn when he spoke. “Is this all being recorded?”
Vaughn shook his head. “I’ve looped the videotape again. Why do you care?”
Sark shrugged. “I am willing to do what I can to help Sydney, but there are things that I don’t want recorded in any official CIA transcript. You’ll forgive me if I can’t say that I trust them.”
“But you trust me?”
Sark snorted again but eyed him coolly. “Why shouldn’t I? Everyone trusts you, don’t they Mr. Vaughn?”
Vaughn put down his pen and paper on the table. “Just out of curiosity, why do you hate me so much?”
“You’re very curious all of a sudden,” Sark almost laughed. “Don’t tell me the hate isn’t mutual.”
Vaughn glared. “You’re the one that tried to shoot me at point blank range. To me, you’re just another piece of scum that I have to deal with.”
Vaughn watched as Sark’s lips thinned in anger. “I hate you because it’s personal between us, in case you didn’t notice. Because you, Agent Vaughn, have everything. You’re the righteous hero, the Boy Scout of the CIA. You can battle the terrorists of the world and go home at night, happy. You have the princess and you get to carry her off into the sunset.”
Vaughn tried to shake away his surprise. “You’re in love with Sydney.”
“She’s intelligent, resourceful, beautiful and daring. She’s everything anyone could hope to find in another person, let alone a woman. And she loves you.”
“You hate me because she chose me.”
“I never gave her another option.” Sark said sneering at him.
Vaughn allowed himself to smirk now. “It wouldn’t have mattered if you did.”
Sark uncharacteristically let the rebuke slide. “She loves you. You love her. And her mother is happy for her.”
This time, Vaughn felt his smirk disappear at the casual mention of Irina. “She killed my father.”
“So?” Sark retorted irritably, his face a far cry from his earlier cool façade. “Irina was a pawn back then. She didn’t kill your father because she wanted to hurt you. She killed him to save her family. But that night she found out that you and Sydney were together, she practically cried.”
Vaughn shook his head. The conversation was jumping all around and not making any sense to him. Not to mention, he wasn’t quite sure when Sark had decided to become the voice of reason. That was usually his job. “What does this have to do with anything?”
Sark looked away again for a moment before continuing quietly. “When I first reported to Irina that I had run in to her beautiful daughter eavesdropping on my conversation with K-Directorate, Irina took out her pistol, cocked it and aimed it at my head. She then told me that if I ever made a move towards her daughter, she would put a bullet in my brain. You want to know why I hate you, Agent Vaughn? Perhaps that’s the reason right there. Because you’re not better than me, you’re not stronger than me and you’re certainly not more intelligent. But you got the girl. You’re the hero. But now the girl is missing and you’re the only one that can do anything about it. Yet here you are, wasting your time asking stupid questions of me.”
Vaughn stood up and gathered his things.
Sark looked at him, his frustration plain on his face. “Look, have you tried running a trace on Allison’s cell phone yet?”
“No, we couldn’t trace the number for it, and her phone wasn’t at the house.”
Sark shook his head in disappointment. “Her number is 213-555-8787. Check it out and stop wasting your time here. The longer she’s gone…”
“I know.” Vaughn answered sharply.
Sark let his statement go unfinished as he met Vaughn’s eyes and held them for a moment. In them, he could read Vaughn’s own frustration and anger. And perhaps a bit of uneasiness. Sark wondered briefly at the uneasiness and realized that he felt it too. It was one thing to hate someone for your own failings. Anonymous hate was easy. It was something else altogether to have to acknowledge it. He could see the same thoughts echoing on Vaughn’s face but Vaughn didn’t give him a chance to think too much on it. Vaughn was the first one to look away again as he turned on his heel and went to knock on the door.