Will Fic
Title: I'm dreaming and you're living
Summary: He has nightmares that she's alive.
He has nightmares that she's alive.
He has nightmares that Sydney is walking down a boulevard somewhere in Paris, laughing and smiling. He knows this is backwards. That thoughts of Sydney, Syd, alive and breathing should make him happy. Or at least relieved. Instead he has nightmares that she's alive.
And dreams that he kills her.
~~~
He can't remember the last time he slept through the night. The last time he didn't wake up sweaty and scared. Reaching for a gun or a knife, pulling up short when he realized he didn't own a gun, and then suddenly wondering who he had become. Wondering why he was reaching for a weapon. Wondering why he needed one to feel safe. Wondering why he never felt safe anymore.
~~~
He could block things out in the hospital; morphine was good for distancing reality from imagination. And so he laughed and loved, and stayed high. Or he tried to. Vaughn stopped by to visit once, and the morphine didn't help so much that night.
That's when the nightmares began.
No more dreams about laughing with Syd over ice cream, or sex with Francie in imaginary bathtubs. Instead it was guns in his face and fears that he never loved Francie, that all along it had been this Alison person.
~~~
He was released into the care of Witness Protection two months after Syd's "death" and Alison's "disappearance." He puts those words in quotes because he doesn't think they're true. He's started to see Alison out of the corner of his eye during long drives. And Syd? She haunts his nights.
So they're not dead. And they haven't disappeared. It's just that no one else can see them.
~~~
He escapes from the "safe" house one night and is surprised to find Mr. Bristow, Jack, following him. Explanations and murmured excuses seem to trip over the silence. They stand together in front of Syd and Francie's old house.
"She's still alive," Jack states calmly, matter-of-factly, as though he hadn't spread her ashes along the shore just last month.
"I know," Will says and then pauses. He weighs out the potential downside of this bombshell, but decides that Jack has the right, or deserves the pain (Will's not sure which), "They both are."
Jack looks at Will in what some might call a new light, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you got-I'm sorry you ever-" Jack can't seem to find the right words to say. It's obvious he's not very practiced with apologies.
Taking pity on him, Will offers his own take, "I'm sorry I ever met your daughter." He nods his head one last time in Jack's direction and walks away, "Goodbye Mr. Bristow. Good luck."
~~~
He takes a cab to Francie's restaurant and jiggles the handle at the backdoor to sneak around inside. He doesn't know what he's looking for exactly, a sign? Some sort of hint that he should have known? A computer document that says "evilclone.img" that contains a perfect Photoshop copy?
Everything looks the same; the rent's been paid up through the year. He remembers Francie's joy during the opening, and curses himself when he thinks he saw her eyes gleam. He knows that trying to discover when Francie became Allison will only be a fruitless journey. One full of self-loathing and screamed curses, and he doesn't think he's strong enough for that. Not now. Maybe not ever.
But somewhere near booth seven he finds a sort of resigned peace. No he'll never know what happened. If Francie was the one to kiss him over lobster. If he'd ever slept with her, or if those first frantic kisses had been from Allison. But somehow, it just- it's just not important. Both women loved him. And for right now, that's all the fucking closure he's going to get.
~~~
He feels like he's signed up for a "This is Your Life" segment, somehow trying to revisit all of his old haunts ((how appropriate)) to piece back his life. Facing the destruction at Syd's place, admiring the serenity of Francie's place. Will can't remember what has his 'place.'
Definitely not the newspaper. No, that had been taken away last year by his "drug addiction." The park where he met Vaughn? The elevator where they arranged meets? The travel agency where his cover was?
When did his life stop being his and start being hers? When had Will forgotten life pre-Sydney Bristow? And what did he do now that she was gone?
Looking around the restaurant he realizes that the answers aren't going to be found there. The tattered pieces of his life will have to be picked up somewhere else. Somewhere that's not filled with memories of a life he doesn't want anymore. Somewhere that's not Los Angeles.
~~~
He grabs the phone off the wall, calls Vaughn and waits for the cavalry to appear. When they get there, he agrees to permanent Witness relocation. North Carolina sounds nice; he always liked the East Coast.
~~~
He doesn't dream for three weeks.
The doctor's blame it on the stress of erasing everything that was Will Tippin and the process of learning to become William Andrews. He fought to keep his first name. If only because he knew he'd never remember to answer to Anthony, Gregory or Bryant. And blowing his cover as web researcher William Andrews within the first week was not on anybody's To Do list. So they let him stay "Will." At least a little bit.
The doctor's also tell him that he needs to stop taking the painkillers soon, if he doesn't want to remain hooked for the rest of his life. Right now Will, William, hasn't decided if a life of sobriety is really worth anything. After all the heroin rush really wasn't that bad. It was just the withdrawal ((head down in the bathtub, eyes bloodshot like a zombie, shaking fingers)) that sucked.
He knows that if he stops taking the pills, the nightmares will come back. William Andrews can't stop them.
~~~
He stops taking the pills one day when he can't remember if it's *his* birthday or if it's *William's*. He throws all of them away except for one. That one he slides into an envelope and puts it between his mattress and box springs. Right next to the picture of Syd, the picture of Francie/Allison, and a picture of all of them happy.
That night the nightmares return. And for a moment he welcomes them. Welcomes a living, breathing Sydney back into his life. He hugs her, brushes her tears away and grabs her throat and twists. He smiles at the sight of her eyes bulging, laughs while she claws at his face and cherishes the sound of her neck popping.
He wakes up reaching for something, anything, but finds only air.
AN: Thanks to the band Konstantine for the title. celli, corngirl_jo, chickenjodie, trixalicious and crushw_eyeliner for the encouragement. alorarose for the beta. And the lovelyandamazing keenai for the inspiration. Much love to each of you.
Summary: He has nightmares that she's alive.
He has nightmares that she's alive.
He has nightmares that Sydney is walking down a boulevard somewhere in Paris, laughing and smiling. He knows this is backwards. That thoughts of Sydney, Syd, alive and breathing should make him happy. Or at least relieved. Instead he has nightmares that she's alive.
And dreams that he kills her.
~~~
He can't remember the last time he slept through the night. The last time he didn't wake up sweaty and scared. Reaching for a gun or a knife, pulling up short when he realized he didn't own a gun, and then suddenly wondering who he had become. Wondering why he was reaching for a weapon. Wondering why he needed one to feel safe. Wondering why he never felt safe anymore.
~~~
He could block things out in the hospital; morphine was good for distancing reality from imagination. And so he laughed and loved, and stayed high. Or he tried to. Vaughn stopped by to visit once, and the morphine didn't help so much that night.
That's when the nightmares began.
No more dreams about laughing with Syd over ice cream, or sex with Francie in imaginary bathtubs. Instead it was guns in his face and fears that he never loved Francie, that all along it had been this Alison person.
~~~
He was released into the care of Witness Protection two months after Syd's "death" and Alison's "disappearance." He puts those words in quotes because he doesn't think they're true. He's started to see Alison out of the corner of his eye during long drives. And Syd? She haunts his nights.
So they're not dead. And they haven't disappeared. It's just that no one else can see them.
~~~
He escapes from the "safe" house one night and is surprised to find Mr. Bristow, Jack, following him. Explanations and murmured excuses seem to trip over the silence. They stand together in front of Syd and Francie's old house.
"She's still alive," Jack states calmly, matter-of-factly, as though he hadn't spread her ashes along the shore just last month.
"I know," Will says and then pauses. He weighs out the potential downside of this bombshell, but decides that Jack has the right, or deserves the pain (Will's not sure which), "They both are."
Jack looks at Will in what some might call a new light, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you got-I'm sorry you ever-" Jack can't seem to find the right words to say. It's obvious he's not very practiced with apologies.
Taking pity on him, Will offers his own take, "I'm sorry I ever met your daughter." He nods his head one last time in Jack's direction and walks away, "Goodbye Mr. Bristow. Good luck."
~~~
He takes a cab to Francie's restaurant and jiggles the handle at the backdoor to sneak around inside. He doesn't know what he's looking for exactly, a sign? Some sort of hint that he should have known? A computer document that says "evilclone.img" that contains a perfect Photoshop copy?
Everything looks the same; the rent's been paid up through the year. He remembers Francie's joy during the opening, and curses himself when he thinks he saw her eyes gleam. He knows that trying to discover when Francie became Allison will only be a fruitless journey. One full of self-loathing and screamed curses, and he doesn't think he's strong enough for that. Not now. Maybe not ever.
But somewhere near booth seven he finds a sort of resigned peace. No he'll never know what happened. If Francie was the one to kiss him over lobster. If he'd ever slept with her, or if those first frantic kisses had been from Allison. But somehow, it just- it's just not important. Both women loved him. And for right now, that's all the fucking closure he's going to get.
~~~
He feels like he's signed up for a "This is Your Life" segment, somehow trying to revisit all of his old haunts ((how appropriate)) to piece back his life. Facing the destruction at Syd's place, admiring the serenity of Francie's place. Will can't remember what has his 'place.'
Definitely not the newspaper. No, that had been taken away last year by his "drug addiction." The park where he met Vaughn? The elevator where they arranged meets? The travel agency where his cover was?
When did his life stop being his and start being hers? When had Will forgotten life pre-Sydney Bristow? And what did he do now that she was gone?
Looking around the restaurant he realizes that the answers aren't going to be found there. The tattered pieces of his life will have to be picked up somewhere else. Somewhere that's not filled with memories of a life he doesn't want anymore. Somewhere that's not Los Angeles.
~~~
He grabs the phone off the wall, calls Vaughn and waits for the cavalry to appear. When they get there, he agrees to permanent Witness relocation. North Carolina sounds nice; he always liked the East Coast.
~~~
He doesn't dream for three weeks.
The doctor's blame it on the stress of erasing everything that was Will Tippin and the process of learning to become William Andrews. He fought to keep his first name. If only because he knew he'd never remember to answer to Anthony, Gregory or Bryant. And blowing his cover as web researcher William Andrews within the first week was not on anybody's To Do list. So they let him stay "Will." At least a little bit.
The doctor's also tell him that he needs to stop taking the painkillers soon, if he doesn't want to remain hooked for the rest of his life. Right now Will, William, hasn't decided if a life of sobriety is really worth anything. After all the heroin rush really wasn't that bad. It was just the withdrawal ((head down in the bathtub, eyes bloodshot like a zombie, shaking fingers)) that sucked.
He knows that if he stops taking the pills, the nightmares will come back. William Andrews can't stop them.
~~~
He stops taking the pills one day when he can't remember if it's *his* birthday or if it's *William's*. He throws all of them away except for one. That one he slides into an envelope and puts it between his mattress and box springs. Right next to the picture of Syd, the picture of Francie/Allison, and a picture of all of them happy.
That night the nightmares return. And for a moment he welcomes them. Welcomes a living, breathing Sydney back into his life. He hugs her, brushes her tears away and grabs her throat and twists. He smiles at the sight of her eyes bulging, laughs while she claws at his face and cherishes the sound of her neck popping.
He wakes up reaching for something, anything, but finds only air.
AN: Thanks to the band Konstantine for the title. celli, corngirl_jo, chickenjodie, trixalicious and crushw_eyeliner for the encouragement. alorarose for the beta. And the lovelyandamazing keenai for the inspiration. Much love to each of you.