This story is inspired by the song Angel by Sarah McLachlan. I was up late one night and this story just came to me. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
I would defiantly recommend listening to the song while reading this story.
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Setting: Any time after Free Agent really
Angel
She let her fingers graze slowly over the piano, reveling in the familiar sound of the notes vibrating around the empty room. The piano, once cherished, now sat covered in dust, seemingly forgotten the day she moved out. It used to fill the empty house, taking the young pianist to another world, of ballrooms and handsome princes, of kings and queens.
For so long, that is what her parents had symbolized to her. They had always called her their little princess, so she figured they must be the king and queen. Together, they were unstoppable, unquestionable. They set the laws of the land and were responsible for punishment. They were her source of laughter. That laughter almost echoed through the halls of the old home.
Sydney glanced across the room and the set of couches. She remembered rainy days when she and her mother would build a home out of sheets draped across the furniture. When her father would return home, he would join them for a while. She remembered the night they all ate dinner together in Sydney's special house. It was the last time they would ever eat dinner together.
This is the room where they held the wake following her mother's "death". She remembers escaping to the back garden, away from the strangers with somber faces. She had been sitting on a bench where her mother would sit and read while Sydney played in the garden. She remembers her father appearing by her side, taking a seat next to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, she wrapped her arms around his strong chest and he gently kissed her head. In silence, they sat alone.
Her mother may never be free again to revisit here, her father hardly ever returning home, she never visited. For all of them, this place held too many memories which were hard to face and even harder to let go. When her father invited her to dinner, she thought it was a sign that maybe they would revisit the emotions together, only to arrive at the house and find him running out the door to a meeting. She wondered why it still hurt her. So she decided to stay, to have the dinner that her father would never join her for. To find some sort of peace. She decided to stay, to face her past.
Each room held conflicting memories, first the happy and then the lonely. She moved into the kitchen, where her mother would make cake, where her nanny showed her how. Almost without thought, Sydney opened cupboards, started to make pasta. Despite his shortcomings in the kitchen, Jack Bristow loved food. She wasn't surprised to find sun-dried tomatoes and fresh basil in the fridge. She set about cooking, the scents bringing memories.
"Daddy, Mommy doesn't put that in her pasta"
"Trust me Sydney; this will taste better than anything you have ever eaten before"
"That's because Mommy said everything you cook tastes the same"
Jack's laugh filled the roomy kitchen. "This is special, the only thing I know how to cook. And when you only know how to cook one thing, you may as well cook it well"
She had trusted him. For all these years.
There was a knock at the front door and Sydney turned the stove down to answer it.
"Thanks for coming"
Vaughn stood on the doorstep, his hands in his pockets. "He cancelled again?"
Sydney smiled sadly. "Yeah, but I figure I may as well eat his food while I am here"
Vaughn grinned and gently kissed her. "May as well"
Soon they were seated around the kitchen table which still had only three chairs. If Vaughn noticed, he did not say as Sydney removed the chair her mother once sat in. He knew she would tell him when she was ready.
"This is delicious Syd"
"My father's recipe" Sydney replied simply, before returning to her meal.
They washed up and Sydney showed Vaughn her childhood home. He gazed at her childhood photos, saying little. They made their way into the living room and while Vaughn wandered around the room, Sydney placed a CD in the player. Soon the music filled the room and they found each other, slowly swaying to the music.
"Thank you for coming" she whispered
"I wouldn't be anywhere else" he replied, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.
Spend all your time waiting
for that second chance
for a break that would make it okay
there's always one reason
to feel not good enough
and it's hard at the end of the day
"What were you doing tonight?" she murmured against his neck
"I was just going stay home, watch some TV"
"I was worried I had interrupted you doing something important"
"Nothing is more important to me than you" he replied softly, tightening his grip on her waist ever so slightly.
I need some distraction
oh beautiful release
memory seeps from my veins let me be empty
and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight
"What happened to your dad?"
"Work. What else?" she replied resentfully
Vaughn paused for a minute. "Why did you stay when he left?"
Sydney shrugged slightly. "I haven't been here in years. It is so strange being here again"
"After my dad died, my mom sold out house and we moved to France for a few years" Vaughn began. "I was driving past a couple of months ago and saw the owners were selling and having an open house that afternoon. The furniture was all different, but I could still picture what it was like before we left. Made me feel old" he joked as they continued to sway to the music.
In the arms of an angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort there
Sydney smiled. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes I can't believe I actually lived here, that I had two parents who think I was the most special person in their lives"
"I think they still do Syd"
Sydney laughed bitterly. "They both have a funny way of showing it"
"Well if it matters, I think you are pretty special"
Sydney pulled away and looked up at him. "I think you are more than special" she whispered, a vague smile playing on her lips
So tired of the straight line
and everywhere you turn
there's vultures and thieves at your back
and the storm keeps on twisting
you keep on building the lie
that you make up for all that you lack
"I'm sorry I asked you to come here tonight, to her house" Sydney said, resting her head on his strong shoulder once more
Vaughn paused, trying to find the right words. "This isn't her house. This is your house, Jack's house, Laura's house. I don't see her here"
"I love you" she whispered, letting her tears of happiness flow down her cheeks.
it don't make no difference
escaping one last time
it's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees
Jack Bristow quietly entered the house, searching for the source of the music which flowed through the home. He quickly found it and stood in the shadows as his daughter danced slowly in Vaughn's arms. Their eyes were shit, their arms wrapped tightly around the other person and for the first time in months, Jack saw his daughter was at peace. And he knew it was because of the man next to her.
As quietly as he arrived, Jack exited again, leaving the couple to their dance.
in the arms of an angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort there
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort here.