Title: A Reason to Heal
Author: Drake
Category: Drama/Romance
Disclaimer: Nothing even remotely affiliated with Alias (which, by the way, is the greatest show on earth) is mine. It all belongs to Touchstone TV, Bad Robot, J.J. Abrams...yada, yada, yada.
Rating: G
Summary: Post "A Dark Turn." As Sydney reflects on the events of the last few days, she chances upon memories that lead her on path of forgiveness and love. S/V.
Feedback: Criticism is more than welcome from anyone who cares to review. Please be nice, though; it's my first fic!
A/N: All lyrics found in this story are from "Lullaby" by pc3. The words of the song relate to what's going on in its subsequent paragraphs, so you might want to pay attention to that.
* * * * *
A Reason to Heal
~ Have you lost your way?
Do you think you'll get it back again? ~
The night air was bitingly cold, which was certainly unusual for Los Angeles at this time of year. The waves of the North Pacific, caught in a sudden gust of wind, hurled themselves against Santa Monica Pier. The full, white moon shone above the glassy water and broke into a thousand pieces as the restless ocean rolled and swayed and disappeared in itself. Still, the soft, almost undetectable sound of the surf retreating back from the beach to its home in the sea brought about a rare, calming effect - if only for a split second.
But that short-lived instant was all Sydney needed. She strolled somewhat aimlessly along the dock, her hands jammed into her pockets or otherwise reaching up to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. For a fleeting moment she wished Vaughn were there - to hold her, to smile at her, to tell her that everything was going to be all right.
And then she remembered what brought her to the pier in the first place. She had felt the sudden need to get away - away from the life that lied to her and told her to lie for so long, away from her home where everything had always been so familiar and comfortable, away from Vaughn.
Especially Vaughn. It was quite ironic, she thought, to want to escape from him, and then to come to a place that was special to both of them, just to be able to feel as if he was somehow with her.
He wasn't with her, but she wasn't alone. Her thoughts haunted her, wanting to break free from the confines of her mind and completely torment her. She tried to push them away, only to sense them returning with full force, ready for the next onslaught of mental anguish. So in the end she gave in to the insistent memories, feeling them surge forward with relentless cruelty.
Vaughn had never been one to lie to her, but he had - oh, he had. She could understand some of his reasons for keeping his investigation from her, one being that the subject of his research was none other than Irina Derevko, her mother. Yet her understanding of his motives to shield her from his actions was useless when it came down to the simple facts in black and white.
Why he hadn't had the integrity to tell her of his exploits concerning her own mother, she couldn't comprehend. She felt angry and betrayed, knowing Vaughn had kept her in the dark for so long, and knowing he probably never would have told her if she hadn't found out. She felt...
Quite honestly, she didn't know what she felt. An overwhelming sense of compassion for him engulfed her, and she remembered his exasperated statement to her when they parted at the bar earlier that day:
"You can't know everything about me, Sydney."
And so once again she was lost, torn between feeling resentment and love for her guardian angel.
~ Did you find something
In the rubble of your memory? ~
Her guardian angel. It was a nickname that fit, despite it being made known on a spur of the moment. He had always been there for her, and throughout it all he had held strong, never faltering or showing any signs of weariness of being with her.
Love was what held them together, though they did not know it before. Both had decided early on that they would follow the rules unerringly - absolutely no fraternization between a handler and his asset.
Look where that got us, Sydney thought with a small smile.
* * *
"You like hockey, right? The Kings?"
"Yeah, how'd you - "
"The pen you keep in your briefcase. It's a Kings' pen."
"Yeah, I got that - "
"They're playing the Islanders next week. We should go."
* * *
The wind picked up suddenly with a piercing howl. Sydney sniffed lightly and turned up her collar, finally ceasing her walk on the wooden planks and turning to stare at the dark water below.
She smiled faintly at her recollection of her feeble attempt to ask Vaughn out. She remembered that his face had lit up with a flicker of hope, only to die down the next instant when he declined her offer. She knew he wanted to go - he had told her so himself - but in actual fact, both knew they couldn't, under any circumstances, be linked together in public. And for that, Sydney had hated the CIA with as much vehemence as she had hated SD-6.
* * *
"You told me a couple of months ago, that when you feel the need to disappear, you go to the Observatory. But the Observatory was closed. And then I remembered you said the pier calms you down. But you weren't there. And you weren't at the Bluffs and the Palisades, either."
"You didn't really go to all those places."
"Yeah, I did. And then I remembered you liked the train station, too. Normal people go to their normal jobs."
"I can't believe you remember that."
* * *
But he did, and that was what mattered the most.
And then she had watched from the other side of the door as he disappeared into the blackness of the water, helpless to do anything but stare at the glass and hope. The guilt she had felt afterward was so strong and so intense, thinking that somehow she had caused his death, that it overwhelmed her completely, never giving her a moment's peace.
It was just another routine mission to France when she found him. She couldn't believe her eyes - she didn't know if he was real or merely a dream. But there he was: alive and whole and well, and giving her another chance at love.
~ It's a mystery
That through a death I found my life again ~
Daniel Hecht was a name foreign to Sydney now. She knew that she still loved him, deep inside, but had long since resigned to the fact that he was gone.
But while she was still with him, she felt like she couldn't truly love him - not completely, at least - because he didn't know the real her. He didn't know the secrets she carried, didn't know the lies and deceit necessary to keep those she cared about alive. And because of that, she felt that he couldn't truly love her either - not until he knew.
It was a sort of love that killed him - a love borne out of the need for a life of relative normalcy. Sydney's confession to Danny changed everything. If she had simply ignored the adamant nagging in her head, she would never have known the truth about SD-6. She would never have led the life of a double agent.
She would never have met Michael Vaughn.
So maybe Fate intervened and brought Sydney an assault of grief, accompanied by a higher need for deception and deceit, but from that presented her with something she never thought she'd want again.
In truth, after Danny's death, she vowed never to love again. She couldn't bear the thought of devoting her heart to someone and having it torn to pieces if she lost him. It was too big a risk to take. So she met Vaughn with indifference, seeing him merely as the handler assigned to her in this case. That was it. End of story.
But she found that her attraction to him was irrefutable, and she tried to deny it the freedom of developing into something more than mere appeal. She fought it obstinately, repeating to herself the excuse that Danny was the only man she could ever love and never once admitting defeat, before realizing that there were some things in life that she couldn't - wouldn't - fight.
So regardless of her solid efforts not to, she fell in love with him - with his sincerity and devotion, his loyalty and pride, his determination, and his ability to simply listen.
~ And in suffering
I found a key that we had thrown away ~
Vaughn did a lot of listening, it seemed, while Sydney worked at SD-6. She would sometimes call him, asking him to meet her at the warehouse, and then inform him of more reasons to hate Sloane, or to try to apologize once again for the sins of her mother (and to this he always interrupted her before she could finish). Every time, he would sit back against a crate, his arm propped up on a nearby box or resting comfortably in his lap, and nod and agree with whatever she said. He rarely made comments or asked anything; just listened. And that's all Sydney asked of him.
When he did talk, however, it was almost always about work. And whenever they met, it was also usually about work. In their line of duty, there was no time for socializing, so they didn't try to. It was clear as crystal to them: come in, get the counter-mission and leave. That was that, no questions asked.
It was because of this reluctant uniformity that the thought of pursuing a relationship was out of the question. Simply thinking about it was against CIA regulations. As long as SD-6 was still around, they could never be together.
~ And so I've started it up
And I filled up my cup
And now I'm lost in your love
And it's more than a memory ~
Sydney paused and looked up at the stars, at the sky illuminated by the lights of the city behind her. She smiled softly to herself and resumed her casual pace, letting her memories overtake her once more.
Everything had seemed to fade in comparison when she and Vaughn first kissed. It hadn't been the ideal location - and it certainly hadn't been a romantic location, either - but it had been their time, their moment, lost in their own world where no one else could have possibly reached them. There was no more need for dreaming or pretending this spark between them didn't exist.
Neither of them had used the "L-word" directly to the other yet, of course, but both knew it was there, was present. Love didn't play games when it came to two years of angst, and it certainly did not deny itself to them now.
This was a reality, not a dream or an illusion; Sydney had spent many a sleepless night convincing herself of that. And when Francie asked her the next morning (in the somber tone Sydney had found she'd lately adopted) why there were bags under her eyes, she'd just shrug and say, "Work stuff."
And while it wasn't the whole truth, it was still one less lie she had to tell to someone she loved.
~ And I'm starting again
And what I thought was the end
Is another beginning
From here to eternity ~
Sydney checked her watch. It was getting late; nearing ten o'clock. She turned and walked somewhat swiftly down the pier toward her car, but her memories followed her.
She never thought she'd see the day when she was finally free of SD-6, finally free to be normal again. It was such an extensive project, she figured she'd be a double agent forever. And so she had acquiesced to the fact that she would spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, never knowing who to trust or confide in. She had yielded to the thought that this was always going to be her life.
Then the day came when all the tables were turned, when all that remained to do was storm the Credit Dauphine building and finally bring to justice the man who had afflicted her life for so long.
And there, in the midst of the destruction and chaos, Sydney and Vaughn found each other - both fully aware that there were no more pretenses, no more rules regarding them as handler and his asset, no more need for the secrets and lies that was destroying her bit by bit.
* * *
"You're so beautiful."
"Dinner's ready."
"We do have an oven, you know. We can reheat."
* * *
Sydney smiled at the recollection as she pushed her key into the lock on her car door, remembering how dinner had been forgotten in the oven and on the stove until Will found it the next afternoon.
"What's this?" he had asked innocuously, and he noticed Sydney's face flush red.
"Leftovers. You can have some if you want."
And Will had simply shrugged and dismissed it as something Sydney didn't want to talk about, and helped himself to the free lunch.
Sydney told Vaughn later that day at the Joint Task Force Facility, and he just laughed.
~ So here we are
Flesh and bone and spirit lifted up ~
The drive home was perilous, as Sydney's thoughts were not on the mildly busy road ahead. The bright yellow and red lights from headlights were blurred; the radio's music went in one ear and out the other. It was a wonder she made it out of the parking lot.
Her thoughts returned to Vaughn, to their hockey lesson two days ago. She remembered she had called him a showoff after he had skillfully skated around her with the puck, and how he had jokingly agreed that he was.
But later that night, when the news of Yeager's investigation still hung on Sydney's mind, Vaughn was suddenly solemn and serious, smiling at her twice at the most, and even then she noticed it was forced. When she asked what was wrong, he only said:
"Don't ever feel like you have to pretend around me. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"
This she thought about, as she lay in bed that evening with Vaughn's arm draped loosely around her waist. He was right, she knew; she had always been able to come to him in her times of need. She could trust herself with being honest to him about anything and everything - which, during the earlier period of their acquaintance, never came easily. She rarely kept anything from him, and in the few occasions that she did, he always found out what it was sooner or later.
Sydney's brow furrowed as she her grip on the steering wheel tightened. Anger repossessed her. She had always been truthful with Vaughn, and she thought - she hoped - he had always been truthful with her. This wasn't necessarily the case, she realized, as she thought back to Alice. He had never informed her of his seeing Alice again; she had to hear it from Alice herself. Likewise, he had never told her of his investigation of Irina Derevko - this she had learned from Yeager in the unhappiest of circumstances. What other secrets was he keeping from her?
~ And that's everything
You've ever needed and it's all you've got
All we've got ~
Sydney had once tried to count the number of times Vaughn hadn't been there for her when she needed him. She couldn't. It was that simple. He had always been her attentive audience, her confidant, her shoulder to cry on.
And then she tried to count the number of times she had been comforted by the touch of his hand on her shoulder, a bright smile on his face that overflowed with emotion and caring, or a soft kiss on the cheek at night. But she decided she didn't want to know, because just knowing that he cared deeply for her was all that mattered.
He cared. Sydney gasped silently as the revelation hit her. Vaughn had always been one to heed another's feelings. He would never bring up a certain item for conversation if he knew it was a sensitive subject to someone else. And so naturally, when he perceived Sydney's approach to Alice, he would never discuss her around Sydney.
Similarly, he couldn't bring himself to tell Sydney about his investigation of her mother, though it was as touchy an issue for him as it was for her. Sparing her from the fact that Irina Derevko, the woman she had been connecting with and growing closer to for the past few months, could possibly still be linked to outside affiliates seemed the appropriate decision to him at the time. And for all Sydney knew, it still was.
She stopped at a red light and leaned against the cool glass of the window. It had started to rain, lightly, and the small beads of water drummed against the windshield - tip...tap...tip...tap...tip...tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. It suddenly began to come down harder, faster, and the wind howled and blew the palm trees side to side.
The light turned green and Sydney accelerated, unexpectedly remembering the last time it had rained so hard in Los Angeles.
It was five months ago and a mere thirty-five days after her mother had turned herself in to the CIA. It was a devastating night. Sydney met her father in a dark alley after walking around downtown for hours, and he had seemed genuinely concerned for her. And she had confronted him about his trap, his "Project Christmas," his lies.
She had left him then, and had gone to the Joint Task Force Facility. She hadn't known where else to find refuge from the terrible beast that was the world.
In Vaughn's comforting arms had she finally discovered sanctuary, and as the water from her drenched clothes had slowly pooled around her feet, a profound feeling of warmth and kindness had encompassed her from within - a feeling brought on by the one person in the world who truly cared.
Sydney groaned inwardly and wiped away a tear that she had found was rolling down her cheek. It was impossible for her to stay mad at Vaughn for long. The key to a successful relationship, she realized, is forgiveness and love, and she found herself feeling just that. She knew she couldn't let him go - not when he was her reason to heal.
~ And now I'm starting it up
And I filled up my cup
And now I'm lost in your love
And it's more than a memory ~
Sydney checked her watch again. 10:23. The houses and apartments that lined her street were all dark, save for the rare few that had the glow of a television or the brightness a bathroom light emitting from a window facing the road.
There were two vehicles parked by the curb outside her apartment. She immediately recognized one as Will's. The other was a black, government-issue sedan, not typically the kind one might find in a suburb. Vaughn's.
Sydney took a deep breath and turned off the ignition. Her hands shook as she exited the car and walked up the path toward the door. She had never been this nervous about coming home.
Vaughn was sitting at the kitchen counter when Sydney opened the door, a beer in his hand and his eyes downcast at some unknown thing on the floor. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his tie loosened around his collar, his face haggard and weary. Sydney figured Will had let him in, and wondered how long he had been there.
He looked up when she entered, concern clouding his expression when he saw her. He stood up and placed the bottle on the counter, awkwardly clasping his hands behind his back before deciding they were better suited in his pockets. She smiled lightly at him, said:
"I'm home."
~ And I've started again
'Cause what I thought was the end
Was another beginning
From here to eternity ~
* * THE END * *
I know some parts are weak, but this took me forever to write! Seven pages of writing should be sufficient enough, don't you think? Anyway, thanks for reading! I'm reiterating the fact that feedback is welcome, so please review!
Author: Drake
Category: Drama/Romance
Disclaimer: Nothing even remotely affiliated with Alias (which, by the way, is the greatest show on earth) is mine. It all belongs to Touchstone TV, Bad Robot, J.J. Abrams...yada, yada, yada.
Rating: G
Summary: Post "A Dark Turn." As Sydney reflects on the events of the last few days, she chances upon memories that lead her on path of forgiveness and love. S/V.
Feedback: Criticism is more than welcome from anyone who cares to review. Please be nice, though; it's my first fic!
A/N: All lyrics found in this story are from "Lullaby" by pc3. The words of the song relate to what's going on in its subsequent paragraphs, so you might want to pay attention to that.
* * * * *
A Reason to Heal
~ Have you lost your way?
Do you think you'll get it back again? ~
The night air was bitingly cold, which was certainly unusual for Los Angeles at this time of year. The waves of the North Pacific, caught in a sudden gust of wind, hurled themselves against Santa Monica Pier. The full, white moon shone above the glassy water and broke into a thousand pieces as the restless ocean rolled and swayed and disappeared in itself. Still, the soft, almost undetectable sound of the surf retreating back from the beach to its home in the sea brought about a rare, calming effect - if only for a split second.
But that short-lived instant was all Sydney needed. She strolled somewhat aimlessly along the dock, her hands jammed into her pockets or otherwise reaching up to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. For a fleeting moment she wished Vaughn were there - to hold her, to smile at her, to tell her that everything was going to be all right.
And then she remembered what brought her to the pier in the first place. She had felt the sudden need to get away - away from the life that lied to her and told her to lie for so long, away from her home where everything had always been so familiar and comfortable, away from Vaughn.
Especially Vaughn. It was quite ironic, she thought, to want to escape from him, and then to come to a place that was special to both of them, just to be able to feel as if he was somehow with her.
He wasn't with her, but she wasn't alone. Her thoughts haunted her, wanting to break free from the confines of her mind and completely torment her. She tried to push them away, only to sense them returning with full force, ready for the next onslaught of mental anguish. So in the end she gave in to the insistent memories, feeling them surge forward with relentless cruelty.
Vaughn had never been one to lie to her, but he had - oh, he had. She could understand some of his reasons for keeping his investigation from her, one being that the subject of his research was none other than Irina Derevko, her mother. Yet her understanding of his motives to shield her from his actions was useless when it came down to the simple facts in black and white.
Why he hadn't had the integrity to tell her of his exploits concerning her own mother, she couldn't comprehend. She felt angry and betrayed, knowing Vaughn had kept her in the dark for so long, and knowing he probably never would have told her if she hadn't found out. She felt...
Quite honestly, she didn't know what she felt. An overwhelming sense of compassion for him engulfed her, and she remembered his exasperated statement to her when they parted at the bar earlier that day:
"You can't know everything about me, Sydney."
And so once again she was lost, torn between feeling resentment and love for her guardian angel.
~ Did you find something
In the rubble of your memory? ~
Her guardian angel. It was a nickname that fit, despite it being made known on a spur of the moment. He had always been there for her, and throughout it all he had held strong, never faltering or showing any signs of weariness of being with her.
Love was what held them together, though they did not know it before. Both had decided early on that they would follow the rules unerringly - absolutely no fraternization between a handler and his asset.
Look where that got us, Sydney thought with a small smile.
* * *
"You like hockey, right? The Kings?"
"Yeah, how'd you - "
"The pen you keep in your briefcase. It's a Kings' pen."
"Yeah, I got that - "
"They're playing the Islanders next week. We should go."
* * *
The wind picked up suddenly with a piercing howl. Sydney sniffed lightly and turned up her collar, finally ceasing her walk on the wooden planks and turning to stare at the dark water below.
She smiled faintly at her recollection of her feeble attempt to ask Vaughn out. She remembered that his face had lit up with a flicker of hope, only to die down the next instant when he declined her offer. She knew he wanted to go - he had told her so himself - but in actual fact, both knew they couldn't, under any circumstances, be linked together in public. And for that, Sydney had hated the CIA with as much vehemence as she had hated SD-6.
* * *
"You told me a couple of months ago, that when you feel the need to disappear, you go to the Observatory. But the Observatory was closed. And then I remembered you said the pier calms you down. But you weren't there. And you weren't at the Bluffs and the Palisades, either."
"You didn't really go to all those places."
"Yeah, I did. And then I remembered you liked the train station, too. Normal people go to their normal jobs."
"I can't believe you remember that."
* * *
But he did, and that was what mattered the most.
And then she had watched from the other side of the door as he disappeared into the blackness of the water, helpless to do anything but stare at the glass and hope. The guilt she had felt afterward was so strong and so intense, thinking that somehow she had caused his death, that it overwhelmed her completely, never giving her a moment's peace.
It was just another routine mission to France when she found him. She couldn't believe her eyes - she didn't know if he was real or merely a dream. But there he was: alive and whole and well, and giving her another chance at love.
~ It's a mystery
That through a death I found my life again ~
Daniel Hecht was a name foreign to Sydney now. She knew that she still loved him, deep inside, but had long since resigned to the fact that he was gone.
But while she was still with him, she felt like she couldn't truly love him - not completely, at least - because he didn't know the real her. He didn't know the secrets she carried, didn't know the lies and deceit necessary to keep those she cared about alive. And because of that, she felt that he couldn't truly love her either - not until he knew.
It was a sort of love that killed him - a love borne out of the need for a life of relative normalcy. Sydney's confession to Danny changed everything. If she had simply ignored the adamant nagging in her head, she would never have known the truth about SD-6. She would never have led the life of a double agent.
She would never have met Michael Vaughn.
So maybe Fate intervened and brought Sydney an assault of grief, accompanied by a higher need for deception and deceit, but from that presented her with something she never thought she'd want again.
In truth, after Danny's death, she vowed never to love again. She couldn't bear the thought of devoting her heart to someone and having it torn to pieces if she lost him. It was too big a risk to take. So she met Vaughn with indifference, seeing him merely as the handler assigned to her in this case. That was it. End of story.
But she found that her attraction to him was irrefutable, and she tried to deny it the freedom of developing into something more than mere appeal. She fought it obstinately, repeating to herself the excuse that Danny was the only man she could ever love and never once admitting defeat, before realizing that there were some things in life that she couldn't - wouldn't - fight.
So regardless of her solid efforts not to, she fell in love with him - with his sincerity and devotion, his loyalty and pride, his determination, and his ability to simply listen.
~ And in suffering
I found a key that we had thrown away ~
Vaughn did a lot of listening, it seemed, while Sydney worked at SD-6. She would sometimes call him, asking him to meet her at the warehouse, and then inform him of more reasons to hate Sloane, or to try to apologize once again for the sins of her mother (and to this he always interrupted her before she could finish). Every time, he would sit back against a crate, his arm propped up on a nearby box or resting comfortably in his lap, and nod and agree with whatever she said. He rarely made comments or asked anything; just listened. And that's all Sydney asked of him.
When he did talk, however, it was almost always about work. And whenever they met, it was also usually about work. In their line of duty, there was no time for socializing, so they didn't try to. It was clear as crystal to them: come in, get the counter-mission and leave. That was that, no questions asked.
It was because of this reluctant uniformity that the thought of pursuing a relationship was out of the question. Simply thinking about it was against CIA regulations. As long as SD-6 was still around, they could never be together.
~ And so I've started it up
And I filled up my cup
And now I'm lost in your love
And it's more than a memory ~
Sydney paused and looked up at the stars, at the sky illuminated by the lights of the city behind her. She smiled softly to herself and resumed her casual pace, letting her memories overtake her once more.
Everything had seemed to fade in comparison when she and Vaughn first kissed. It hadn't been the ideal location - and it certainly hadn't been a romantic location, either - but it had been their time, their moment, lost in their own world where no one else could have possibly reached them. There was no more need for dreaming or pretending this spark between them didn't exist.
Neither of them had used the "L-word" directly to the other yet, of course, but both knew it was there, was present. Love didn't play games when it came to two years of angst, and it certainly did not deny itself to them now.
This was a reality, not a dream or an illusion; Sydney had spent many a sleepless night convincing herself of that. And when Francie asked her the next morning (in the somber tone Sydney had found she'd lately adopted) why there were bags under her eyes, she'd just shrug and say, "Work stuff."
And while it wasn't the whole truth, it was still one less lie she had to tell to someone she loved.
~ And I'm starting again
And what I thought was the end
Is another beginning
From here to eternity ~
Sydney checked her watch. It was getting late; nearing ten o'clock. She turned and walked somewhat swiftly down the pier toward her car, but her memories followed her.
She never thought she'd see the day when she was finally free of SD-6, finally free to be normal again. It was such an extensive project, she figured she'd be a double agent forever. And so she had acquiesced to the fact that she would spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, never knowing who to trust or confide in. She had yielded to the thought that this was always going to be her life.
Then the day came when all the tables were turned, when all that remained to do was storm the Credit Dauphine building and finally bring to justice the man who had afflicted her life for so long.
And there, in the midst of the destruction and chaos, Sydney and Vaughn found each other - both fully aware that there were no more pretenses, no more rules regarding them as handler and his asset, no more need for the secrets and lies that was destroying her bit by bit.
* * *
"You're so beautiful."
"Dinner's ready."
"We do have an oven, you know. We can reheat."
* * *
Sydney smiled at the recollection as she pushed her key into the lock on her car door, remembering how dinner had been forgotten in the oven and on the stove until Will found it the next afternoon.
"What's this?" he had asked innocuously, and he noticed Sydney's face flush red.
"Leftovers. You can have some if you want."
And Will had simply shrugged and dismissed it as something Sydney didn't want to talk about, and helped himself to the free lunch.
Sydney told Vaughn later that day at the Joint Task Force Facility, and he just laughed.
~ So here we are
Flesh and bone and spirit lifted up ~
The drive home was perilous, as Sydney's thoughts were not on the mildly busy road ahead. The bright yellow and red lights from headlights were blurred; the radio's music went in one ear and out the other. It was a wonder she made it out of the parking lot.
Her thoughts returned to Vaughn, to their hockey lesson two days ago. She remembered she had called him a showoff after he had skillfully skated around her with the puck, and how he had jokingly agreed that he was.
But later that night, when the news of Yeager's investigation still hung on Sydney's mind, Vaughn was suddenly solemn and serious, smiling at her twice at the most, and even then she noticed it was forced. When she asked what was wrong, he only said:
"Don't ever feel like you have to pretend around me. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"
This she thought about, as she lay in bed that evening with Vaughn's arm draped loosely around her waist. He was right, she knew; she had always been able to come to him in her times of need. She could trust herself with being honest to him about anything and everything - which, during the earlier period of their acquaintance, never came easily. She rarely kept anything from him, and in the few occasions that she did, he always found out what it was sooner or later.
Sydney's brow furrowed as she her grip on the steering wheel tightened. Anger repossessed her. She had always been truthful with Vaughn, and she thought - she hoped - he had always been truthful with her. This wasn't necessarily the case, she realized, as she thought back to Alice. He had never informed her of his seeing Alice again; she had to hear it from Alice herself. Likewise, he had never told her of his investigation of Irina Derevko - this she had learned from Yeager in the unhappiest of circumstances. What other secrets was he keeping from her?
~ And that's everything
You've ever needed and it's all you've got
All we've got ~
Sydney had once tried to count the number of times Vaughn hadn't been there for her when she needed him. She couldn't. It was that simple. He had always been her attentive audience, her confidant, her shoulder to cry on.
And then she tried to count the number of times she had been comforted by the touch of his hand on her shoulder, a bright smile on his face that overflowed with emotion and caring, or a soft kiss on the cheek at night. But she decided she didn't want to know, because just knowing that he cared deeply for her was all that mattered.
He cared. Sydney gasped silently as the revelation hit her. Vaughn had always been one to heed another's feelings. He would never bring up a certain item for conversation if he knew it was a sensitive subject to someone else. And so naturally, when he perceived Sydney's approach to Alice, he would never discuss her around Sydney.
Similarly, he couldn't bring himself to tell Sydney about his investigation of her mother, though it was as touchy an issue for him as it was for her. Sparing her from the fact that Irina Derevko, the woman she had been connecting with and growing closer to for the past few months, could possibly still be linked to outside affiliates seemed the appropriate decision to him at the time. And for all Sydney knew, it still was.
She stopped at a red light and leaned against the cool glass of the window. It had started to rain, lightly, and the small beads of water drummed against the windshield - tip...tap...tip...tap...tip...tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. It suddenly began to come down harder, faster, and the wind howled and blew the palm trees side to side.
The light turned green and Sydney accelerated, unexpectedly remembering the last time it had rained so hard in Los Angeles.
It was five months ago and a mere thirty-five days after her mother had turned herself in to the CIA. It was a devastating night. Sydney met her father in a dark alley after walking around downtown for hours, and he had seemed genuinely concerned for her. And she had confronted him about his trap, his "Project Christmas," his lies.
She had left him then, and had gone to the Joint Task Force Facility. She hadn't known where else to find refuge from the terrible beast that was the world.
In Vaughn's comforting arms had she finally discovered sanctuary, and as the water from her drenched clothes had slowly pooled around her feet, a profound feeling of warmth and kindness had encompassed her from within - a feeling brought on by the one person in the world who truly cared.
Sydney groaned inwardly and wiped away a tear that she had found was rolling down her cheek. It was impossible for her to stay mad at Vaughn for long. The key to a successful relationship, she realized, is forgiveness and love, and she found herself feeling just that. She knew she couldn't let him go - not when he was her reason to heal.
~ And now I'm starting it up
And I filled up my cup
And now I'm lost in your love
And it's more than a memory ~
Sydney checked her watch again. 10:23. The houses and apartments that lined her street were all dark, save for the rare few that had the glow of a television or the brightness a bathroom light emitting from a window facing the road.
There were two vehicles parked by the curb outside her apartment. She immediately recognized one as Will's. The other was a black, government-issue sedan, not typically the kind one might find in a suburb. Vaughn's.
Sydney took a deep breath and turned off the ignition. Her hands shook as she exited the car and walked up the path toward the door. She had never been this nervous about coming home.
Vaughn was sitting at the kitchen counter when Sydney opened the door, a beer in his hand and his eyes downcast at some unknown thing on the floor. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his tie loosened around his collar, his face haggard and weary. Sydney figured Will had let him in, and wondered how long he had been there.
He looked up when she entered, concern clouding his expression when he saw her. He stood up and placed the bottle on the counter, awkwardly clasping his hands behind his back before deciding they were better suited in his pockets. She smiled lightly at him, said:
"I'm home."
~ And I've started again
'Cause what I thought was the end
Was another beginning
From here to eternity ~
* * THE END * *
I know some parts are weak, but this took me forever to write! Seven pages of writing should be sufficient enough, don't you think? Anyway, thanks for reading! I'm reiterating the fact that feedback is welcome, so please review!
