Alias=Life
Cadet
A/N: Okay, I wrote this for the Color Challenge, obviously. Its dark, angsty S/V, seeing as how it takes place during her missing two years. Everything after the Season 2 finale never happened, and this is just a "What if?" take. I hope you guys enjoy!
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Part I
She was overcome by an infinite darkness, not able to see anything. It was like someone had turned out all the lights and put a black bag over her head. The silence itself was deafening, lingering in the air and taunting her. All of her senses were heightened and she couldn’t help but wonder where she was.
“My guardian angel.”
The voice was her own, except she didn’t speak it. Someone else did. It was almost like she was listening to herself speak with someone. But who? Who was her guardian angel? What was her other self talking about? It was still too dark to see.
Suddenly, she felt a presence close to her. It was familiar, yet so distant. She longed for it, yet rejected it. It confused her, yet answered her calls.
She reached out, looking for the person but grabbing nothing but air. It didn’t make sense. Whoever it was, they were right in front of her, so why couldn’t she touch them? Why couldn’t she see them? All she heard was steady breathing and a steady pulse. Were they her own?
“Goodbye.”
“Wait!” she objected, her voice finally breaking the paralysis, “Wait! Don’t go!”
But it was too late. He was already gone.
----------
She opened her eyes and shot straight up in her bed, her body damp with cold sweat. She had that dream again. She didn’t know why, but she was having this strange dream, over and over, which had just started recently. They felt like memories, but she couldn’t place them and pin them down in her mind. Every time she came close, they slipped right through her fingers, like grains of sand.
She lay in her bed for a good hour before she finally gave up and admitted that she wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. Not that it mattered; sleep was a luxury that had become so foreign to her. That, and looking to her side, out the window, she could see the sun beginning to break past the horizon. It was already morning.
She forced herself out of bed and into the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of lukewarm coffee. She was too lazy to make a fresh pot, and to be honest, she didn’t think she could stomach it.
She was right.
She ran to the bathroom, emptying the contents of her stomach in the bowl. It had become a ritual to her, every morning and sometimes even night. At this rate, she knew she didn’t have long. Not that it mattered. Life was a commodity which came cheap. She had told herself that so many times and she told herself yet again.
“My guardian angel, you say?” she asked, barely above a whisper. She wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her shirt, staring into the toilet bowl, “Then where the hell are you?”
Her question was broken by the all-too-familiar and constant ringing of her cell phone and she quickly dashed into her living room, ravaging through her things. When she finally found it, she checked the ID and scowled.
She should have known.
“Julia Thorne,” she answered, her voice indifferent.
“My, are we pleasant on this bright and early morning?” her employer asked, his voice sarcastic and scratchy from his age and the years he spent smoking thousand dollar cigars.
“Yes, I noticed that, too. It is bright and early, so why are you calling me?” she snapped, wanting him to cut to the chase.
“You know, Julia, this is a twenty-four hour job. I’m surprised at your astonishment,” he laughed, “Plus, you and I both know you don’t close your eyes. How can you… without seeing so many faces?”
She frowned, “Make your offer and make it quick, or I hang this phone up and you never hear from me again.”
“All right,” he surrendered, “How fast can you get to LA?”
“As fast as you need me there. Why?”
“Your next target is in LA. I need you on the next flight out,” he explained, “Information will be made available once you arrive.”
“Very well. Consider it done,” she replied, hanging up her phone and putting it in her pocket. She looked over to her door, where her luggage was packed and ready to go.
Its not that she ever packed in advance. She just never unpacked. Why, when you’re just going to be heading out the door in a day, anyway? Why, when staying in one place is not an option? Not for her, anyway.
She thinks it has been this way her entire life, always on the go. Its what keeps her going and tears her apart; never having to settle down and grow too attached, but never having the chance to experience “home.”
Her apartment was so… uninviting, to say the least. It mirrored her personality perfectly, which made her smirk. She had a bed, a bathroom, and a kitchen. There was a couch in the living room, along with a worn coffee table and old TV set, but that was it. That was all she needed. She stuck straight to the point.
Deciding it was time to leave, she took one last look around and did a mental check-list, making sure she had everything she needed. The horizon caught her eyes again; glowing and burning a bright red, scarring the sky.
As early as it was, it was her favourite time of day, when all the lights in the city were out and the ocean was glowing red. Then, it quickly spread throughout the city and basked every building in its… gentleness?
That was what confused her the most; was it red, the colour of blood? Or, was it red, the colour of tranquility? So simple, and yet never so complicated.
She smiled.
“Tranquility; wrapped gently and protectively in a blanket of blood and crimson regret. That‘s my sky.”
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Part I
She was overcome by an infinite darkness, not able to see anything. It was like someone had turned out all the lights and put a black bag over her head. The silence itself was deafening, lingering in the air and taunting her. All of her senses were heightened and she couldn’t help but wonder where she was.
“My guardian angel.”
The voice was her own, except she didn’t speak it. Someone else did. It was almost like she was listening to herself speak with someone. But who? Who was her guardian angel? What was her other self talking about? It was still too dark to see.
Suddenly, she felt a presence close to her. It was familiar, yet so distant. She longed for it, yet rejected it. It confused her, yet answered her calls.
She reached out, looking for the person but grabbing nothing but air. It didn’t make sense. Whoever it was, they were right in front of her, so why couldn’t she touch them? Why couldn’t she see them? All she heard was steady breathing and a steady pulse. Were they her own?
“Goodbye.”
“Wait!” she objected, her voice finally breaking the paralysis, “Wait! Don’t go!”
But it was too late. He was already gone.
----------
She opened her eyes and shot straight up in her bed, her body damp with cold sweat. She had that dream again. She didn’t know why, but she was having this strange dream, over and over, which had just started recently. They felt like memories, but she couldn’t place them and pin them down in her mind. Every time she came close, they slipped right through her fingers, like grains of sand.
She lay in her bed for a good hour before she finally gave up and admitted that she wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight. Not that it mattered; sleep was a luxury that had become so foreign to her. That, and looking to her side, out the window, she could see the sun beginning to break past the horizon. It was already morning.
She forced herself out of bed and into the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of lukewarm coffee. She was too lazy to make a fresh pot, and to be honest, she didn’t think she could stomach it.
She was right.
She ran to the bathroom, emptying the contents of her stomach in the bowl. It had become a ritual to her, every morning and sometimes even night. At this rate, she knew she didn’t have long. Not that it mattered. Life was a commodity which came cheap. She had told herself that so many times and she told herself yet again.
“My guardian angel, you say?” she asked, barely above a whisper. She wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her shirt, staring into the toilet bowl, “Then where the hell are you?”
Her question was broken by the all-too-familiar and constant ringing of her cell phone and she quickly dashed into her living room, ravaging through her things. When she finally found it, she checked the ID and scowled.
She should have known.
“Julia Thorne,” she answered, her voice indifferent.
“My, are we pleasant on this bright and early morning?” her employer asked, his voice sarcastic and scratchy from his age and the years he spent smoking thousand dollar cigars.
“Yes, I noticed that, too. It is bright and early, so why are you calling me?” she snapped, wanting him to cut to the chase.
“You know, Julia, this is a twenty-four hour job. I’m surprised at your astonishment,” he laughed, “Plus, you and I both know you don’t close your eyes. How can you… without seeing so many faces?”
She frowned, “Make your offer and make it quick, or I hang this phone up and you never hear from me again.”
“All right,” he surrendered, “How fast can you get to LA?”
“As fast as you need me there. Why?”
“Your next target is in LA. I need you on the next flight out,” he explained, “Information will be made available once you arrive.”
“Very well. Consider it done,” she replied, hanging up her phone and putting it in her pocket. She looked over to her door, where her luggage was packed and ready to go.
Its not that she ever packed in advance. She just never unpacked. Why, when you’re just going to be heading out the door in a day, anyway? Why, when staying in one place is not an option? Not for her, anyway.
She thinks it has been this way her entire life, always on the go. Its what keeps her going and tears her apart; never having to settle down and grow too attached, but never having the chance to experience “home.”
Her apartment was so… uninviting, to say the least. It mirrored her personality perfectly, which made her smirk. She had a bed, a bathroom, and a kitchen. There was a couch in the living room, along with a worn coffee table and old TV set, but that was it. That was all she needed. She stuck straight to the point.
Deciding it was time to leave, she took one last look around and did a mental check-list, making sure she had everything she needed. The horizon caught her eyes again; glowing and burning a bright red, scarring the sky.
As early as it was, it was her favourite time of day, when all the lights in the city were out and the ocean was glowing red. Then, it quickly spread throughout the city and basked every building in its… gentleness?
That was what confused her the most; was it red, the colour of blood? Or, was it red, the colour of tranquility? So simple, and yet never so complicated.
She smiled.
“Tranquility; wrapped gently and protectively in a blanket of blood and crimson regret. That‘s my sky.”
