Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.
It was a usual, sunny Monday in a sleepy Californian town, children played in schoolyards, office workers tapped at their keyboards and life continued as normal. However, as with every moment in time for someone, somewhere it wasn't a usual moment in time and at this point, in this place it was time for Michael Vaughn to pass on. His death wouldn't come as a surprise, he was in his 81st year and had been suffering from cancer for several months and there was nothing more the doctors could do for him. So his wife, Sydney, had brought him home so he could die in his own home with his family around him.
The curtains fluttered in the light sea breeze as Sydney opened the balcony doors. She turned to look at her husband, lying asleep on their bed. She climbed onto the bed and lay down next to him, he awoke and turned his head and looked deep into her eyes, his body was weak and tired but he was still her Vaughn, she could see it in his eyes. They had been married for nearly 50 years and even though Syd had known this moment would come- and it very nearly occurred several times during their CIA careers- she couldn't believe she was about to lose him forever.
The sound of children's laughter floated up into the room from the garden below, it was their grandchildren making the most of a sunny day. Their parents would be in the kitchen downstairs waiting for the news they all knew would come.
Syd and Vaughn had brought four children into the world and had raised them to become important members of society. Michael, the eldest was a doctor, Gabriel was a university lecturer and Raphael, perhaps inspired by his godfather Marshall, worked for the ICT department in the CIA. However, it was the youngest and only girl who shone the brightest, Ava was the image of her mother, just as intelligent, just as beautiful, just as fearless, every inch a Derevko woman. When Ava turned 13, Syd and Vaughn told their children about their CIA exploits and from that moment on Ava knew she too would follow in her mother's footsteps. And she was right, upon leaving college she was offered a job at the CIA and she quickly became as successful and notorious as her mother. However, she had now retired from field work now that she was a mother just had her parents had done when their children were born.
Vaughn looked at his wife, he wasn't scared of dying he just didn't want to, he didn't want to leave her alone just as she had for those two long years, decades ago. But he was so tired, he found himself fighting to keep his eyelids open and he knew if he closed his eyes he would never open them again. He tried to speak but for the first time since he was small boy he couldn't find the English words to describe what he was feeling, all he find in his blurred mind were the French words his mother had spoken to him in his childhood.
"Merci, tu as enchanté ma vie." He whispered and he shut his eyes for the last time.
Sydney placed her hand on her husband's chest and she felt his fragile heart slow and stop.
Four months later Sydney Vaughn died and was buried beside her husband. The death certificate said "stroke" but everyone knew it was a broken heart, she couldn't survive without her soulmate.
Author's note- I hope you liked that, I know it was sad and a bit cliché but I liked writing it. The French phrase is slightly adapted from a song I heard in my French oral session at college, "Derniere Danse" by Kyo.
Please review this is my first Alias fan-fic.