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But For the Grace of God

by Kara B.

© 2001

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An Alias Story

Rating: PG-13

Archival: FanFiction Universe Archive, All others ask before using!

Disclaimer: SUE ME NOT. ME IN COLLEGE. HAVE NO MONEY.

MY ALIAS PAGE:

http://dreamwater.net/karafic/fic/alias.html

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RUSSIA

"Remember that all you have to do is grab the code and call it out to us. Give the same code to SD-6." Vaughn reminded Sydney.

"Right." Sydney whispered into her headset, clearly not happy with SD-6 actually getting the information. Vaughn and Weiss were watching and listening from a trailer a few miles away.

"Observe radio silence until the code . . ." Weiss reminded them.

Vaughn nodded and they went silent, waiting for Sydney to give them the code.

Weiss yanked off his headset, and reached over to grab a coke from the trailer's ice chest. "Want one?"

Vaughn rolled his eyes, but said, "Sure." and pulled the headset off his ear, to hang on his neck. He walked over to the door and cautiously opened it.

"We shouldn't do that." Weiss warned, "Someone could see us."

Vaughn peered out and quickly closed the door back, "It's not like there's anyone out there to see us . . ."

Weiss sighed, "Devlin might assign me to work with Lambert on his latest boring case." He grimaced.

Vaughn nodded sympathetically, "I'll talk to Devlin - make sure you stay working with me. Besides, he seems to think that I need someone to watch me."

"Thanks," Weiss grinned, "I was hoping you'd say that. I'd rather do anything than work with Lambert . . . even clean the CIA bathrooms . . ."

"Yeah, I know . . ." Vaughn laughed, "What are friends for?"

Suddenly, the trailer was rocked by an explosion and darkness followed.

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Vaughn woke moments later to find the world around him in flames, "Weiss?" he called questioningly, hoping his friend was all right . . . Vaughn was hurt, but he ignored the pain and pulled himself up . . . When he did, he saw an unconscious Weiss on the floor near one of the burning walls.

The smoke in the trailer stung his eyes as he crawled across the hot metal floor, "Weiss." He shook him. When there was no response, Vaughn grabbed the other agent and pulled him toward where the door was. He managed to get them both out of the smoky death trap and to a safe distance just before the trailer exploded and pelted the ground and them with hot bits of metal.

It was winter in Russia and the temperature was well below freezing. Vaughn knew that they needed shelter soon as neither had their heavy coats on. They had been in the trailer. Vaughn cursed. This was his fault . . . He should have been more careful, should have paid more attention to their surroundings . . .

Speaking of . . . he looked up and glanced around. Nearby, in some rocks, was a small, cave-like hole. He quickly pulled Weiss inside it. At least it would give them some protection. He then began inspecting Weiss' injuries. Blood was streaming down his fellow agent's face and both his face and hands were badly burned. His clothes and hair were also singed. Vaughn imagined that his own clothes were in the same state of disarray. And his hands were definitely burned, from crawling across the metal floor of the trailer.

"Gosh it's cold out here . . ." he muttered. A quick look at his and Weiss' cell phones told him that they were worthless. Even worse than that, the trailer had contained state of the art communication technology . . . which had been turned into a flaming pile of rubble. Worst of all, whoever had done this could still be nearby.

At that nasty thought Vaughn pulled out his gun. It seemed unharmed, thankfully. And it was all he had to keep both of them alive until the CIA rescue team could arrive, which itself presented several problems. Only a few people knew their location . . . Devlin and a couple other senior administrators. In addition, it wouldn't be until Sydney got back that they would suspect something was severely wrong. Agents on high security projects often cut communication. It would only be when Sydney got back and realized that the CIA had no code and that Vaughn and Weiss had not come back that anyone knew anything was wrong.

He cursed again and Weiss moaned, startling him. Vaughn knelt next to him, "Take it easy."

"What happened?"

"The trailer exploded," Vaughn said as calmly as he could. "Someone must have seen me."

"S'ok." Weiss sighed, "What about calling in the team?"

"Our cell phones are fried."

"Figures." Weiss said, trying to grin.

He moved, as if to sit up, but Vaughn put his hands on Weiss' shoulders, "Take it easy."

" . . . 's getting cold."

"I know." Vaughn said.

Suddenly, a panicked look crossed Weiss' face.

"Eric? What's wrong?" Vaughn was immediately concerned.

"I can't move my legs . . . I can't move . . ."

"Relax Eric, you're probably just in shock. Don't panic." Vaughn said the words automatically, hoping it would be okay.

"Mike . . ."

"Eric . . . calm down. We have to stay calm." What did you say to a friend who might now very well be paralyzed? Another horrible thought occurred to Vaughn . . . what if in moving Weiss and saving his life he'd caused some sort of damage?

"Okay." Weiss mumbled.

"I'm going to go look and see if there is anything salvagable from the trailer. I'll be just outside and I'll be right back. Our guns survived the blast, so be ready to reach for yours just in case." He hated to leave Weiss alone right now given the news, but it was now up to him to ensure that they didn't freeze to death.

He stood up, pulling out his own gun.

Weiss nodded, "I'll be okay."

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An hour later, Vaughn returned with nothing but a few scraps of metal he thought they could use to close the opening of the 'cave' that night. Nothing else had survived. Their coats, computers, food, everything was gone. Weiss didn't even ask when he entered.

"It's bad." Vaughn stated flatly.

"We could make some fire . . ." Weiss suggested. "Get a couple of sticks and rub them together."

Vaughn rolled his eyes.

"Hey, it worked for Tom Hanks . . ."

"Oh gee . . ." Vaughn said sarcastically, "That inspires confidence." A pause, "Nice to see your sense of humor is back."

"Yeah, well my legs are still taking a vacation . . . How long till you expect them to come looking for us?"

"Sydney should get back tomorrow around noon. So, we shouldn't have to wait more than a day or so."

"Yeah, well, I guess the CIA'll miss out on the code this time." Weiss said, "C'mon man! At least try and make a fire."

Vaughn sighed and rolled his eyes again, grumbling, "I don't know what the heck I'm doing." However, he picked up two sticks and began the long process of trying to make fire.

Five hours later, Vaughn had finally succeeded, which was a good thing because it was nearly dark. His hands were bloody and full of splinters and they hurt when he moved. He leaned back against the wall.

"You care about Bristow, don't you?" Weiss suddenly asked.

"Why do you ask?" Vaughn responded.

"Okay, now that tells me all I need to know."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Getting defensive . . . hmmmm. I must be hitting it right on the mark." Weiss said playfully. "You know what they say, the hit dog barks the loudest."

"At least till he beats up one of the other dogs . . ."

"Like you were gonna do to Blackie the other day, Vaughn?"

"Leave it alone, Weiss."

"You brought it up."

"No, I didn't."

"Yeah man," Weiss grinned, "Fraid you did."

"Okay, I care about her . . . so what?" Vaughn finally admitted.

A triumphant look crossed Weiss' face.

"Wipe that look off your face . . ." Vaughn started warningly.

"What look?" Weiss asked innocently.

Vaughn just glared in reply.

"Well, that's the first time I actually got you to admit it . . ." Weiss smirked.

A look of surprise came over Vaughn's face when he realized he had and he did care about Sydney. "Look, I care about all my friends . . ."

"She isn't just a friend . . . or rather you want her to be more."

"Stop putting words in my mouth." Vaughn said indignantly.

"If they're true, how am I doing that?"

Vaughn snapped, "Just shut up."

After a moment of silence, Weiss said softly, "Chill out man. We're the only ones here. It's not like Devlin'll take you off the case. He won't hear this from me." A pause. "I know you've wondered if it might be me who told Devlin about the Christmas present and everything else. I give you my word that it wasn't me."

Vaughn considered, then nodded, "Sorry I snapped at you. But thank you for telling me. Are you feeling any better? Can you move your legs at all?"

"Nope. I gather that's usually not a good thing."

"That's what I've heard."

"Sydney's probably on her way back by now, don't you think?" Weiss said, "That rescue team should be here by tomorrow . . ." He yawned.

"Yeah, probably." Vaughn answered in a noncommital tone. "Now why don't you get some sleep before you make me kick your butt."

"You'd do that to me, when I'm down?" Weiss asked in mock horror.

"In a second." Vaughn grinned.

"Gee, I'm scared." Weiss retorted sarcastically.

"You should be."

They lapsed into silence, and so both were startled when they heard a string of curses coming from somewhere outside. Vaughn immediately pulled out his gun, aiming it at the entrance. He noticed Weiss do the same, as best he could.

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