Numb
Summary: Vaughn, post Unveiled.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Please don't sue me!! Please!
AN: Why is it that TPTB keep giving me episodes where Vaughn can run straight into Sydney's arms at the end? Oh well…
Thanks to all who reviewed, I heart you! – Rhyianna
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Caught in the undertones
Every second I waste is more than I can take
I become so numb, I can't feel you there
I become so tired, so much more aware…
I have no idea how long I stood staring at that suitcase. Time seemed to stop. Literally, stop.
This is not fucking happening. I am not Jack Bristow; she is not Irina Derevko. And this is not happening.
I had my suspicions, but I passed them off as the seeds of doubt sewn by Sydney and Jack. But Jack had been right…Syd had been right.
I blinked once, hard, and scrubbed my hands down my face. Maybe when I opened them I'd realize that I was imagining things. That there was no way Lauren was a traitor.
No such luck, however.
Somewhere inside, the CIA agent wanted to see what else was in that suitcase. That part of me seemed to be more in control than I was, so I let it take over gratefully.
Hands that did not seem like mine pushed the black wig aside and examined the weapon. The one she had used to kill Cypher.
Jesus Fucking Christ. I wanted to vomit.
The gun was moved aside. Passport. Too many places she said she had never been. Too many dates that matched missions I had been on.
I heard movement from the bathroom. As quickly and as quietly as I could, I replaced her costume and shoved the suitcase back into the closet. Grasping furiously for my control, I managed to face Lauren with a somewhat normal look.
She looked back with concern. "Michael? Is something wrong? You look flushed."
No, nothing's wrong. I just found out who you are, you sick bitch. "I, uh… I feel kind of jumpy. I think I might go for a drive, you know, see if I can relax. It's been a pretty crazy week."
She smiled compassionately. "Of course, love."
I twisted my face into what might have been a smile. It must have been passable, because she says nothing.
"You don't have to wait up, I'll probably be a while," I said, thinking that 'a while' meant 'forever'.
No complaints. Which means she'll probably be on the phone to Sark within five minutes of my departure.
"Be careful, darling," she says, always the concerned wife, before kissing my cheek.
I repressed the shudder that wanted to run down my spine.
Fifteen minutes later, I had managed to master myself enough to get into my car and drive to the one place where I could maybe wrap my head around things a little more.
Sydney's.
I knocked on her door. The night didn't seem real. I almost expected to wake up. Almost.
When she opened the door, I think she felt the same way.
"Hi," she said, sounding confused.
"Hi," I reply, glad that my voice is staying steady. "Can I, uh, come in? I just… I need to talk to you…"
She immediately looked concerned. "Of course," she says, stepping back so I can enter.
Her apartment. I look around vaguely. This is not what I remember. This is not where I picture her living.
"Vaughn?" I turn back to her. "Are you okay?"
I run a hand through my hair. "I don't think so." I paused. "No. No, I am not okay. Can I sit down?"
She nodded, looking genuinely frightened. I dropped to her couch, a fist pressed over my mouth, silent for a moment. She reached for my hand and I take it, grateful for something that I can touch, something that's real.
I looked up, meeting her wide eyes. "You were right."
She looks puzzled. "Right about what?"
I swallowed. "Lauren." I let it sink in for a moment. Telling Sydney, telling anyone, made it real. "I…Jack told me what Irina used to do, the signs he had ignored. After he said that, I began to notice things. I couldn't help it."
Sydney looked like she was beginning to comprehend. Looked like she knew what I was going to tell her.
"I told myself I was being paranoid. I went through her things… and I found a wig. A black one, with red streaks. And a gun. And a passport."
Sydney's lips were parted slightly. I saw surprise in her expression and…sorrow. Sorrow for me. I let go of her, and buried my face in my hands. A moment later I felt her move closer to me, felt her hands running up and down my back.
"Syd? I think I might be sick," I confessed.
I have no memory of her directing me to her bathroom. All I remember is when I re-entered her living room, she was getting off the phone.
I was glad she knew what to do, because I sure as hell didn't.
"That was my father. He's on his way. So is Weiss," she said, studying my face.
I nodded once before dropping back to the couch and resting my head in her lap. In that moment, I didn't care that it was probably inappropriate. Didn't care that I was married. Didn't care that Jack would kill me if he walked in now. I needed this. I needed her.
We sat there in silence for five minutes, Sydney's fingers running through my hair, before Weiss knocked twice and entered.
He took us in, then his eyes widened. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize that Syd had probably told Weiss about her suspicions.
Weiss opened his mouth, but Sydney cut him off. "Let's wait for my father."
He nodded, then walked to the kitchen, reappearing a minute later with a glass in his hand, which he sat down in front of me.
"You look like you need one, Mike," he said.
I almost smiled. "I need, like, fifty of these."
There was a second knock on the door then. I forced myself to lift my head from Sydney's lap, knowing it was Jack.
As soon as he entered, he knew. He even looked…sympathetic.
"What did you find?"
There was never any bull shit with Jack. "A wig, a gun and a passport. The wig was what Sydney saw her in, the gun was what Cypher was killed with, and the passport has dates that match up with missions that involved the Covenant."
Jack nodded. "Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to call Dixon. Authorities will be notified and put in place. Then Dixon will call an emergency staffing. Ms. Reed will be apprehended then."
I let out a breath. So, it would be over that soon. I reached for the drink Weiss had given me and downed it.
Forty-five minutes later, I sat at the staff table, waiting for Lauren to walk in. She did. She couldn't see the guards until she was fully in the room. By then it was too late.
I closed my eyes when she turned to look at me. Reaching out blindly, I found Sydney's hand and grasped it as tight as I could.
It was over in about five minutes. It seemed like five hours. Dixon told me to go home, he could get a statement tomorrow. I nodded absently. I heard him tell Sydney to take care of me.
She did.
I didn't go home that night. Syd drove me back to her place where I promptly flopped face down onto her couch. It hadn't been fifteen seconds before I felt her kneeling beside me, her hands trying to soothe me.
I looked up at her after a moment. I don't know what she saw in my face, but whatever it was, it made her eyes well up with tears.
Tired of thinking anymore, I pulled her on to the couch with me. Resting my head on her chest, some of the numbness that had enveloped me since I opened that suitcase seemed to dissipate. I closed my eyes then, knowing she wouldn't leave me.
Things became more real after that. I could feel again. I felt her heart beat, I felt her breathe, felt her brush kisses on the top of my head. Felt myself plant a kiss on her neck. Felt her arms tighten around me.
I felt… hopeful. Maybe things would be okay.
Maybe.