"I hate them." "Me too."
By: Rachel
Rated: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing. JJ Abrams and ABC and Paramount and whoever else own everything.
Summery: Post-Confession
AN: Just something that was running around in my head after watching this episode that I wrote down and debated for a while putting up here. It's my first ever publicly shown story, so please, please be kind. Constructive criticism please.
~*~
Sighing heavily, Agent Vaughn looked down to check the time on his watch for what seemed to him like the twentieth time since he had arrived and, seeing that she was now fifteen minutes late, he wondered for what also seemed like the twentieth time whether she would actually show up to meet him. Looking dejectedly around the small cubicle buried within the walls of chain-link fences inside the abandoned warehouse, Vaughn sighed again and thrust his fists inside his pockets. His attention turned towards the dusty floor and he gazed at the mildew forming in one corner as he pondered his actions over the past few days guiltily and wondered if it was really too much to hope that she would give him the benefit of the doubt and listen to what he had to say. Her reply to his request for a meeting when he called her earlier in the day had been a clipped "Maybe, I'll see if I have the time," and a hang-up.
Vaughn leapt up from the chair he sat in at the distant sound of footsteps coming from the dingy hallway outside of the gate, each one growing louder than the last. He walked over to the gate in time to see Sydney approaching him, head bent, her hair almost creating a curtain to hide her face from him. Vaughn pulled the gate open for her and stepped back to let her through, then closed it behind her following her quick glance up at him and soft reply of thanks. She walked over to a pile of crates stacked against a far wall and pulled off her coat, setting it down with her purse beside her. Pulling at the sleeves of her sweater, trying to straighten them out, Sydney sat down on the pile of crates and finally looked up at Vaughn in earnest.
Vaughn held her gaze for a moment, noticing the slight redness and swelling that inflicted her eyes which he presumed must have been the result of crying, then turned his focus towards the floor and stared at it intently.
"Hey," Vaughn said, risking a small glance back up in her direction.
Sydney regarded him for a moment, then replied slowly, "Hi."
Vaughn swallowed and looked back at the floor, unable to move himself to look at her in the eye. Shoving his fists into his pockets, he took a few steps towards her, head still bent towards the floor, and sighed softly. He knew that he should say something, but as his mind began searching for the words he wanted, he found that he didn't know quite what to say to her. It had been he who had called this meeting, he who wanted to explain his actions to her, but in finally having her in front of him, apparently willing to listen to whatever he had to tell her, Vaughn couldn't wade through all of the thoughts and emotions that were currently running through his head to formulate the words he needed to offer her. Looking up at Sydney, he watched as she continued to tug at the sleeves of her sweater, pulling them slightly over her hands, balled into fists, and then folded her arms across her chest.
He swallowed and turned his gaze to the floor once again. As he began speaking, the words flew from his mouth without much thought put into their meaning. "Look, I, uh…I wanted to talk to you…to explain to you why…explain why I did what I did…why I taped you and…and lied to you and everything-"
"Vaughn…"
He looked up at her at the sound of his name escaping her lips and put his hand up to silence her before she could continue.
"No, just lemme finish. I have to explain. I mean…this doesn't make up for…nothing excuses what I did. I shouldn't have betrayed your trust…I'm really sorry for that. I just…want you to know why…I want you to understand why."
Sighing once again, Vaughn took one hand out of his pocket to run it through his short hair and began pacing through the small, enclosed space. Stopping in front of Sydney, he dropped his hand to his side and tried once again to sort out his thoughts. Briefly wondering why he hadn't thought more about how to explain this to her before she arrived, he opened his mouth to speak, hoping what came out would make the same sense as it did in his head.
He took another moment, mouth still slightly open ready to produce words, to consider his words again, then began speaking softly. "When I was a kid, my father was…he worked, a lot, and went on business trips all the time, worked a lot of hours…but he was my dad…he took me to baseball games and…taught me how to ride a bike, and came to my soccer games, when he could…he read me The BFG by Rold Dahl whenever I was sick." Vaughn paused, smiling slightly at the memory. He immediately sobered and continued speaking.
"He was just my dad. Then one day…I come home from school and he's this CIA agent and he's dead and no one will tell us how he died," Vaughn began to gesture with his free hand as he spoke. "And I didn't even understand what it means that he's in the CIA, all I knew was that someone took my dad away from me."
Vaughn swallowed and closed his eyes, as if to block out the painful memory, and when he opened his eyes to once again stare at the floor, Sydney could see the tears that had formed in them, tears that he seemed to be struggling mightily to keep from escaping. He continued pacing the floor, one hand still in his pocket, his other now gently rubbing the back of his neck.
"For twenty-five years…I've wondered who my father really was," he said, his voice quavering slightly with emotion. "And why he died and who killed him. When I first joined the CIA I looked through every file I could find on him and his cases, but I could never find anything about his death. And when I saw his face in the stack of files of agents listed for murder in your mother's books…"
Vaughn paused again, shoving his hand back into his pocket and looked, almost sheepishly up at Sydney. "You said once, before I told you about my father's death, that I didn't know what that felt like, to loose a parent like this, and that if I had been in your position…that I wouldn't be able to control myself either." He shook his head softly, trying to work his emotions into words to explain his feelings to Sydney. "I got the report back on what the codes in the books were and found the files of all the agents that the KGB had ordered killed.… When I saw my father's face in that stack of files, I just…I lost control a little…I couldn't…I needed to know. And I was so…" Vaughn paused again and clenched his eyes shut. "I wanted so much to turn in your father, to bring him to justice, to…to punish him for murdering my dad."
Vaughn opened his eyes again and focused them on the ground, then turned to face away from Sydney, once again pacing through the small cubicle. "Sydney…I called you selfish, for not wanting to turn him in, but that was absolutely…I was completely wrong. I was being selfish and I'm sorry…I wanted to turn in your father because I thought he killed my father and I was so…I couldn't take knowing that and not acting. I just wanted him to be punished, get retribution for my father's death…and that, I don't know, clouded my judgment. I was…so wrong to tape you, to lie to you, to even consider going behind your back…" He sighed heavily. "You were so proud of him…I didn't think you'd be able to do it, to turn him in…I didn't want to take him away from you, I never wanted to hurt you, but I couldn't…I couldn't control myself. I just…kept picturing my father, imagining him being killed, imagining your father killing him. I just couldn't get it out of my head…"
Vaughn trailed off, suddenly at a loss as to what else to say and stopped pacing a few feet in front of Sydney. His head bent, he stared fixedly at the ground, brow furrowed with a mixture of guilt and sadness. Sydney continued to watch him, never having taken her eyes off of him throughout his speech, and raised a hand to her forehead to brush a piece of hair behind her ear as she waited for him to continue speaking, unsure as to whether he was going to continue or if she should say something. Realizing that Vaughn most likely was not going to continue, Sydney tore her gaze away from his figure and pointed it at the floor in front of her.
Silence hung thickly between the pair as Sydney and Vaughn each tried to collect their respective thoughts. Sydney sat, now with her legs folded and arms bent, elbows resting on her knees, chin resting on her clasped hands, staring at the floor, while Vaughn stood in front of her, his eyes also pointed downwards, with his hands resting in his pockets.
Finally breaking the stillness of the makeshift room, Vaughn swallowed and said, "I'm, uh, gonna put in to have you assigned a new handler on Monday, so you don't have to worry about-"
Sydney's eyes immediately widened and flew up to look at Vaughn. "What?" she exclaimed.
Vaughn's eyes left the floor to meet Sydney's and he noticed the look of shock and alarm in them. "I'm… going to have you reassigned on Monday…I figured that's what you'd want…" At the shocked expression that was now etched on Sydney's face, Vaughn continued. "I mean, with all that's happened, after what I did…I wasn't sure if you trusted me anymore-"
"I'm angry at you," Sydney interrupted. "I feel…" unable to think of how to express what she felt, she shook her head and then said, "I hate that you…but I understand that…" She spoke in broken sentences, almost rushing to get her words out and make her feelings known. Softly, she said, "I trust you."
Silence once again reined the small space for a few moments before Sydney asked, "Do you want me to be reassigned?"
Looking almost alarmed, Vaughn replied quickly, "No…"
"Because if you do," Sydney continued as if she had not heard him. "I mean, I understand…my mother…" she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, and looked away from him, shaking her head slightly.
When she looked back up at Vaughn, he held her gaze intently. "Your mother's actions have nothing to do with this. You're not responsible for her.… I just didn't think you'd want me…didn't think you'd trust me…I thought I'd completely fucked up…"
Sydney cocked her head to one side as she considered him and said, "Well, you did completely fuck up, but…"
Vaughn nodded and replied quickly, "I know," before she continued.
"I know…I understand what you were feeling." She gave the tiniest of sardonic laughs and said, "The real irony is that you're probably one of the only people who knows what that feels like…to loose a parent, to feel…" she shook her head again, shaking away the thought and went back to what she had originally intended to say. "I know you want to protect me, to help me…You saved my life the other day, in Crete…"
Vaughn's brow furrowed even more than in had been, confusion forming on his face. "What?"
"Weiss said you were an inch away from blowing Hassan's head off when he wouldn't give you the code, then ran up for Devlin like you'd lost your mind." At this she received a look of amused surprise from Vaughn, to which she replied, "His words, not mine." Vaughn gave a soft smile, the first that had graced his features in days. Sydney continued. "He said it took you less than a minute to get up to Devlin's office and back…"
"When did you talk to Weiss?" Vaughn asked her.
Sydney shrugged nonchalantly and replied, "I, uh, was looking for you this morning. Your cell phone wasn't on…he, uh, said you were out, at a cemetery…" she trailed off, hoping he'd finish the thought for her.
Vaughn bent his head towards the ground again and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I, uh…I was visiting my dad's grave…I haven't been there in a while…a long time, actually…I just got the urge to go see it today…"
Sydney nodded mutely, then replied, "Yeah."
An unsettling silence took over the atmosphere of the room while its two occupants each began once again pondering the unfortunate twists of fate that had caused their lives to become intertwined. And endless stream of "what ifs" ran continuously through Sydney's head, one that had started the previous afternoon when the pair had been informed of the truth in the actions of Sydney's mother and her involvement in the death of Vaughn's father. What if my mother hadn't killed his father? What if his father had never been in the CIA? What if I hadn't asked him to look into my father's past? Neither of us would have found out that my mother's death wasn't an accident and wouldn't find out about the FBI's investigation. What if Francie hadn't spilled cider on my mother's books? I wouldn't have found the KGB codes and Vaughn would never have had them deciphered…would never have seen his father's file within the stack of those killed…
Shooing the thoughts from her mind, Sydney looked up at Vaughn and broke their silence, stating simply, "You gave me the tape."
He met her eyes with an expression of slight confusion and asked, "What?"
"You gave me the tape," she repeated, holding his gaze for a moment, waiting for her meaning to register in his mind. When the furrow in his brow did not leave his forehead, Sydney continued. "You could've just…thrown it away and never told me about it. You could've used it, which would've been even worse…but you didn't. You were honest with me. At least…you were honest in your deception…"
Vaughn noted the irony in the statement and waited, unsure as to whether she would continue. She did.
"At first I was…really hurt when you told me what you had done…I'm still hurt by it." She looked down at her hands for a moment, then looked back up at him. "But if I had been in your situation…" she trailed off, both of them understanding the meaning in her unfinished sentence. "But if you ever…lie to me like that again…" Pausing, she briefly collected her thoughts and then said softly, "I need you. I can't do this without you."
Vaughn looked her in the eye and interrupted with a simple, "I won't."
Sydney nodded at him softly and then looked down once more at her hands, which she had begun to wring together. Looking back up, Vaughn noticed the tears that had quickly formed in her eyes.
"I've really wanted to talk to you," she whispered through her tears which she continued to prevent from falling.
Vaughn looked down at her, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets while wanting desperately to dash the few short feet between them and hold onto her and cry and let her cry and let them both release all of the emotions that were so tightly packed inside of each of them. But he didn't. Instead, he tried to provide as much comfort as he was able to give without physically touching her.
"I really needed someone to talk to," she said. "I don't have anyone else in my life that I can be completely honest with. I keep trying to talk to my friends about this without actually talking about it, you know? Tell them what happened without being specific or telling them the whole truth. But…I really need to talk to someone…really talk to someone. And to tell you the truth, you're the only person in my life who I can tell everything to."
"Where's your dad?" Vaughn asked softly.
Sydney gave a soft laugh mixed with the tears that had begun trailing down her face and replied, "Working. I doubt he's actually working, just trying to avoid one of the few times in my life that I really need him…I really thought we were getting closer…"
"It'll take time," said Vaughn. "Something like this…it's hard for anyone to deal with…and your dad doesn't have the easiest time opening up, even to his own daughter…it'll take time."
Sydney closed her eyes against the tears that continued to spill from them and said, "I just…don't know what to think anymore. My whole life I've had this…picture of what my family is…who they are…were. I had this…" she paused, searching for the right word, "idealized image of my mother. I thought she was wonderful, I thought she was the most amazing woman in the world. I wanted to be just like her… And my dad…I thought he was the bad one. I thought he didn't care for me or for her or about anything but himself and work. And now I find out that all of that, everything I ever thought about my family is completely wrong."
"Sydney-" Vaughn broke in, trying to disagree.
She continued, as if not hearing him. "She was nothing like the woman I thought she was…she worked for the KGB…God…I just can't believe…it was a lie, all of it…"
"All of what?" Vaughn prompted quietly.
"Everything!" Sydney gave in a sobbing yell. "My whole life, who I am, who she was, everything is a lie! She never loved my father, she probably never loved me…!"
Vaughn shook his head softly. "You don't know that. They didn't tell us anything more than her involvement with the KGB," he reminded her gently.
"She killed your father!" Sydney threw at him, immediately sorry when the words flew from her mouth. Vaughn closed his eyes and she took in the pained expression that flitted across his face, as if her words had physically hit him. Calming her voice, Sydney began again. "She killed people. She worked against the United States for a Russian organization during the Cold War. How do I know that any of her life was real? God, I'm not even sure she died in a car accident. What if she was assassinated?" Sydney shook her head and said softly, "I'm not sure of anything anymore."
Vaughn watched her for a moment as tears continued to stream down her face while she stared at her hands, now once again pulled into the recesses of her sleeves, as they rested in her lap. Moving to sit down on a large box next to the crate on which Sydney sat, he clasped his hands together in front of him and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
"For a long time after my dad died…I was so angry. I was angry at everything. I was angry at whoever killed him, I was angry at whoever he was working for who sent him to his death, but I was also so angry at him. I was angry for a really long time. I still am sometimes. I felt like he had left us, like he had put his job over my mother and I. I felt like he had died for his job and abandoned us. I was so angry with him, so angry that he had this whole secret life that I never knew about, and that he joined the CIA and got himself killed, that he left me mother and I. For the longest time I thought the man I knew, the man that took me to baseball games and read me The BFG was all just an act. Like everything I knew about him and thought about him was a lie." He paused in his story to look at Sydney next to him, who stared back at him, waiting for him to continue. "I told this to my mom one day when I was twelve or thirteen, and she said to me, 'Your dad had two lives. One of them was with us, as your father. And the other you don't know anything about. But that doesn't mean that it wasn't important. And it doesn't change who he was in his life with you. He loved you. And nothing he ever did in his other life could change that.'"
Vaughn stared at Sydney, who looked back at him through the tears that were now becoming less prominent, before continuing. "Sydney…whatever your mother did in her life, she was still your mother…and whatever she did in her other life has nothing to do with the person that you are. Who she was doesn't change who you are." He paused for a moment and looked out ahead of him.
"And anyway, she couldn't have been all bad." At Sydney's questioning look, Vaughn said, "Well she had you. There must've been some good in her for you to turn out the way you did…" he trailed off, unsure as to whether he had said too much. After seeing the faint smile that appeared on her lips, he softly added, "I don't think her life with you was a lie."
Sydney put a hand to her mouth as tears once again began trickling down her face and she closed her eyes, silently crying once more. They sat in silence for a few moments before Sydney opened her eyes and turned to look at Vaughn, the tears still flowing.
"Are you okay?" she asked him softly.
"Yeah," he replied quickly. Then, to her disbelieving expression, he shrugged slightly and quietly said, "I don't know."
Sydney nodded silently and, turning to look forward at nothing in particular, she said, "Yeah."
After a moment's silence, Vaughn said softly, also staring in front of him, "I hate this."
"Yeah."
"I really hate them."
"Me too," she replied softly through tears, knowing without having to ask that he was referring to their parents. They sat quietly for another moment before she said quietly, "Thanks."
He looked at her. "For what?"
She looked back at him. "For calling. For talking. Everything."
"Sydney-" he began, but she stopped him before he could speak any further.
"I know, you said I could talk to you whenever I need to, I just…thanks."
He nodded, then turned to stare ahead of him once again. "I wasn't even sure you wanted to meet with me." He glanced back and saw the look of confusion etched on her face, then elaborated. "You sounded…mad when I called you earlier. You said you weren't sure if you could meet me. I thought you were mad…"
Sydney shook her head quickly as realization dawned on her face and replied, "No, that wasn't why I…My friend, Francie, she's the one getting married. I promised her we'd go dress shopping this weekend and I've had to put it off a couple of times already because of work. I just wasn't sure if I'd be able to make it here on time. To be honest, I was still mad, but…wasn't sure if you'd be mad at me."
"You called me this morning," Vaughn stated more than asked.
"Yeah. I wanted to talk to you…apologize for my mother…"
"You know you don't have to."
"I know."
Neither spoke for a moment before Sydney said, "God, you should see the bridesmaid dresses she wants to get." She smiled despite her crying, trying to lighten their respective moods.
"Bad?"
"Horrible. She generally has such good taste, I can't figure out what she's thinking and I don't really have the heart to tell her right now that there's no way in hell I'm going to wear something with pink tool."
He laughed softly and, finding his eyes once again, she smiled through her tears.
"Is she excited?"
"It's not so much that she's excited, it's more along the lines of insane excitement. I didn't want to ruin her mood by telling her that the bridesmaid dresses looked ridiculous."
"How's her dress?"
"Beautiful. Which is why I can't figure out what she's thinking with the others."
"Maybe she doesn't want to risk anyone else looking more beautiful than her." Sydney gave him a disbelieving look to which he replied, "Five or six years ago my girlfriend at the time, Jane, was a bridesmaid in her cousin's wedding and had to wear this horrible orange thing. She insisted that her cousin had purposely made everyone around her look terrible so that she would look better."
Sydney smiled at the story, then shook her head and said, "No, Francie wouldn't do that. But, regardless, I'm going to look like an idiot if she makes me wear that dress."
"I don't think that's possible," Vaughn replied.
Sydney looked back at him and smiled. He held her gaze for a moment, then, looking slightly embarrassed, he turned to look at the floor. Her tears had become less fervent and she tried to wipe those that remained out of her eyes. Sighing, she turned her gaze downwards as well. "Do you think," she began slowly, trying to choose her words carefully, "that maybe, if the circumstances were different…that if we just met…if you weren't my handler and I wasn't involved with SD-6…that we would be friends in the real world?"
Vaughn's soft sigh reminded Sydney once again of the death of his father at her mother's hand and she guessed that his answer, whether he would voice it or not, would be no for this reason.
"I don't know," he replied softly. "We can't ever be friends out there. At least not until SD-6 is destroyed. But…I would've liked to have been your friend in the real world."
She nodded. "Me too." Wiping away the tears that had again begun to form in her eyes she let out a strangled sigh and said, "You know, when all of this is over…we're all going to need a lot of therapy."
He gave a small laugh and said simply, "Yeah." Looking almost cautiously over at her, he raised his hand hesitantly. She turned to look back at him as he gently took his hand in hers.
Despite the bond that they had formed over the previous few months, the two had rarely shared any kind of physical contact. There was danger in physical contact, danger that Vaughn was very aware of. The threat of death forbade their ever touching each other in public. While in the relative private of the warehouse, however, Vaughn still found that he had to control his impulse to reach out to her every so often, which proved to be particularly hard when she came to him upset about something, and forced him to keep a substantial physical distance from her for the most part during their meetings. Despite his constant self denials, he knew that he was getting too close to her; that if he let himself, he could probably fall in love with her. And he knew that that was impossible. So he usually kept his distance.
However, he allowed himself this one transgression and softly held her hand in his. They sat together, hands clasped, each staring straight ahead, silently. Neither thought about much of anything. For the moment, they were each content to sit, not thinking of the past, not thinking of the future. Just sitting together.
By: Rachel
Rated: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing. JJ Abrams and ABC and Paramount and whoever else own everything.
Summery: Post-Confession
AN: Just something that was running around in my head after watching this episode that I wrote down and debated for a while putting up here. It's my first ever publicly shown story, so please, please be kind. Constructive criticism please.
~*~
Sighing heavily, Agent Vaughn looked down to check the time on his watch for what seemed to him like the twentieth time since he had arrived and, seeing that she was now fifteen minutes late, he wondered for what also seemed like the twentieth time whether she would actually show up to meet him. Looking dejectedly around the small cubicle buried within the walls of chain-link fences inside the abandoned warehouse, Vaughn sighed again and thrust his fists inside his pockets. His attention turned towards the dusty floor and he gazed at the mildew forming in one corner as he pondered his actions over the past few days guiltily and wondered if it was really too much to hope that she would give him the benefit of the doubt and listen to what he had to say. Her reply to his request for a meeting when he called her earlier in the day had been a clipped "Maybe, I'll see if I have the time," and a hang-up.
Vaughn leapt up from the chair he sat in at the distant sound of footsteps coming from the dingy hallway outside of the gate, each one growing louder than the last. He walked over to the gate in time to see Sydney approaching him, head bent, her hair almost creating a curtain to hide her face from him. Vaughn pulled the gate open for her and stepped back to let her through, then closed it behind her following her quick glance up at him and soft reply of thanks. She walked over to a pile of crates stacked against a far wall and pulled off her coat, setting it down with her purse beside her. Pulling at the sleeves of her sweater, trying to straighten them out, Sydney sat down on the pile of crates and finally looked up at Vaughn in earnest.
Vaughn held her gaze for a moment, noticing the slight redness and swelling that inflicted her eyes which he presumed must have been the result of crying, then turned his focus towards the floor and stared at it intently.
"Hey," Vaughn said, risking a small glance back up in her direction.
Sydney regarded him for a moment, then replied slowly, "Hi."
Vaughn swallowed and looked back at the floor, unable to move himself to look at her in the eye. Shoving his fists into his pockets, he took a few steps towards her, head still bent towards the floor, and sighed softly. He knew that he should say something, but as his mind began searching for the words he wanted, he found that he didn't know quite what to say to her. It had been he who had called this meeting, he who wanted to explain his actions to her, but in finally having her in front of him, apparently willing to listen to whatever he had to tell her, Vaughn couldn't wade through all of the thoughts and emotions that were currently running through his head to formulate the words he needed to offer her. Looking up at Sydney, he watched as she continued to tug at the sleeves of her sweater, pulling them slightly over her hands, balled into fists, and then folded her arms across her chest.
He swallowed and turned his gaze to the floor once again. As he began speaking, the words flew from his mouth without much thought put into their meaning. "Look, I, uh…I wanted to talk to you…to explain to you why…explain why I did what I did…why I taped you and…and lied to you and everything-"
"Vaughn…"
He looked up at her at the sound of his name escaping her lips and put his hand up to silence her before she could continue.
"No, just lemme finish. I have to explain. I mean…this doesn't make up for…nothing excuses what I did. I shouldn't have betrayed your trust…I'm really sorry for that. I just…want you to know why…I want you to understand why."
Sighing once again, Vaughn took one hand out of his pocket to run it through his short hair and began pacing through the small, enclosed space. Stopping in front of Sydney, he dropped his hand to his side and tried once again to sort out his thoughts. Briefly wondering why he hadn't thought more about how to explain this to her before she arrived, he opened his mouth to speak, hoping what came out would make the same sense as it did in his head.
He took another moment, mouth still slightly open ready to produce words, to consider his words again, then began speaking softly. "When I was a kid, my father was…he worked, a lot, and went on business trips all the time, worked a lot of hours…but he was my dad…he took me to baseball games and…taught me how to ride a bike, and came to my soccer games, when he could…he read me The BFG by Rold Dahl whenever I was sick." Vaughn paused, smiling slightly at the memory. He immediately sobered and continued speaking.
"He was just my dad. Then one day…I come home from school and he's this CIA agent and he's dead and no one will tell us how he died," Vaughn began to gesture with his free hand as he spoke. "And I didn't even understand what it means that he's in the CIA, all I knew was that someone took my dad away from me."
Vaughn swallowed and closed his eyes, as if to block out the painful memory, and when he opened his eyes to once again stare at the floor, Sydney could see the tears that had formed in them, tears that he seemed to be struggling mightily to keep from escaping. He continued pacing the floor, one hand still in his pocket, his other now gently rubbing the back of his neck.
"For twenty-five years…I've wondered who my father really was," he said, his voice quavering slightly with emotion. "And why he died and who killed him. When I first joined the CIA I looked through every file I could find on him and his cases, but I could never find anything about his death. And when I saw his face in the stack of files of agents listed for murder in your mother's books…"
Vaughn paused again, shoving his hand back into his pocket and looked, almost sheepishly up at Sydney. "You said once, before I told you about my father's death, that I didn't know what that felt like, to loose a parent like this, and that if I had been in your position…that I wouldn't be able to control myself either." He shook his head softly, trying to work his emotions into words to explain his feelings to Sydney. "I got the report back on what the codes in the books were and found the files of all the agents that the KGB had ordered killed.… When I saw my father's face in that stack of files, I just…I lost control a little…I couldn't…I needed to know. And I was so…" Vaughn paused again and clenched his eyes shut. "I wanted so much to turn in your father, to bring him to justice, to…to punish him for murdering my dad."
Vaughn opened his eyes again and focused them on the ground, then turned to face away from Sydney, once again pacing through the small cubicle. "Sydney…I called you selfish, for not wanting to turn him in, but that was absolutely…I was completely wrong. I was being selfish and I'm sorry…I wanted to turn in your father because I thought he killed my father and I was so…I couldn't take knowing that and not acting. I just wanted him to be punished, get retribution for my father's death…and that, I don't know, clouded my judgment. I was…so wrong to tape you, to lie to you, to even consider going behind your back…" He sighed heavily. "You were so proud of him…I didn't think you'd be able to do it, to turn him in…I didn't want to take him away from you, I never wanted to hurt you, but I couldn't…I couldn't control myself. I just…kept picturing my father, imagining him being killed, imagining your father killing him. I just couldn't get it out of my head…"
Vaughn trailed off, suddenly at a loss as to what else to say and stopped pacing a few feet in front of Sydney. His head bent, he stared fixedly at the ground, brow furrowed with a mixture of guilt and sadness. Sydney continued to watch him, never having taken her eyes off of him throughout his speech, and raised a hand to her forehead to brush a piece of hair behind her ear as she waited for him to continue speaking, unsure as to whether he was going to continue or if she should say something. Realizing that Vaughn most likely was not going to continue, Sydney tore her gaze away from his figure and pointed it at the floor in front of her.
Silence hung thickly between the pair as Sydney and Vaughn each tried to collect their respective thoughts. Sydney sat, now with her legs folded and arms bent, elbows resting on her knees, chin resting on her clasped hands, staring at the floor, while Vaughn stood in front of her, his eyes also pointed downwards, with his hands resting in his pockets.
Finally breaking the stillness of the makeshift room, Vaughn swallowed and said, "I'm, uh, gonna put in to have you assigned a new handler on Monday, so you don't have to worry about-"
Sydney's eyes immediately widened and flew up to look at Vaughn. "What?" she exclaimed.
Vaughn's eyes left the floor to meet Sydney's and he noticed the look of shock and alarm in them. "I'm… going to have you reassigned on Monday…I figured that's what you'd want…" At the shocked expression that was now etched on Sydney's face, Vaughn continued. "I mean, with all that's happened, after what I did…I wasn't sure if you trusted me anymore-"
"I'm angry at you," Sydney interrupted. "I feel…" unable to think of how to express what she felt, she shook her head and then said, "I hate that you…but I understand that…" She spoke in broken sentences, almost rushing to get her words out and make her feelings known. Softly, she said, "I trust you."
Silence once again reined the small space for a few moments before Sydney asked, "Do you want me to be reassigned?"
Looking almost alarmed, Vaughn replied quickly, "No…"
"Because if you do," Sydney continued as if she had not heard him. "I mean, I understand…my mother…" she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, and looked away from him, shaking her head slightly.
When she looked back up at Vaughn, he held her gaze intently. "Your mother's actions have nothing to do with this. You're not responsible for her.… I just didn't think you'd want me…didn't think you'd trust me…I thought I'd completely fucked up…"
Sydney cocked her head to one side as she considered him and said, "Well, you did completely fuck up, but…"
Vaughn nodded and replied quickly, "I know," before she continued.
"I know…I understand what you were feeling." She gave the tiniest of sardonic laughs and said, "The real irony is that you're probably one of the only people who knows what that feels like…to loose a parent, to feel…" she shook her head again, shaking away the thought and went back to what she had originally intended to say. "I know you want to protect me, to help me…You saved my life the other day, in Crete…"
Vaughn's brow furrowed even more than in had been, confusion forming on his face. "What?"
"Weiss said you were an inch away from blowing Hassan's head off when he wouldn't give you the code, then ran up for Devlin like you'd lost your mind." At this she received a look of amused surprise from Vaughn, to which she replied, "His words, not mine." Vaughn gave a soft smile, the first that had graced his features in days. Sydney continued. "He said it took you less than a minute to get up to Devlin's office and back…"
"When did you talk to Weiss?" Vaughn asked her.
Sydney shrugged nonchalantly and replied, "I, uh, was looking for you this morning. Your cell phone wasn't on…he, uh, said you were out, at a cemetery…" she trailed off, hoping he'd finish the thought for her.
Vaughn bent his head towards the ground again and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I, uh…I was visiting my dad's grave…I haven't been there in a while…a long time, actually…I just got the urge to go see it today…"
Sydney nodded mutely, then replied, "Yeah."
An unsettling silence took over the atmosphere of the room while its two occupants each began once again pondering the unfortunate twists of fate that had caused their lives to become intertwined. And endless stream of "what ifs" ran continuously through Sydney's head, one that had started the previous afternoon when the pair had been informed of the truth in the actions of Sydney's mother and her involvement in the death of Vaughn's father. What if my mother hadn't killed his father? What if his father had never been in the CIA? What if I hadn't asked him to look into my father's past? Neither of us would have found out that my mother's death wasn't an accident and wouldn't find out about the FBI's investigation. What if Francie hadn't spilled cider on my mother's books? I wouldn't have found the KGB codes and Vaughn would never have had them deciphered…would never have seen his father's file within the stack of those killed…
Shooing the thoughts from her mind, Sydney looked up at Vaughn and broke their silence, stating simply, "You gave me the tape."
He met her eyes with an expression of slight confusion and asked, "What?"
"You gave me the tape," she repeated, holding his gaze for a moment, waiting for her meaning to register in his mind. When the furrow in his brow did not leave his forehead, Sydney continued. "You could've just…thrown it away and never told me about it. You could've used it, which would've been even worse…but you didn't. You were honest with me. At least…you were honest in your deception…"
Vaughn noted the irony in the statement and waited, unsure as to whether she would continue. She did.
"At first I was…really hurt when you told me what you had done…I'm still hurt by it." She looked down at her hands for a moment, then looked back up at him. "But if I had been in your situation…" she trailed off, both of them understanding the meaning in her unfinished sentence. "But if you ever…lie to me like that again…" Pausing, she briefly collected her thoughts and then said softly, "I need you. I can't do this without you."
Vaughn looked her in the eye and interrupted with a simple, "I won't."
Sydney nodded at him softly and then looked down once more at her hands, which she had begun to wring together. Looking back up, Vaughn noticed the tears that had quickly formed in her eyes.
"I've really wanted to talk to you," she whispered through her tears which she continued to prevent from falling.
Vaughn looked down at her, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets while wanting desperately to dash the few short feet between them and hold onto her and cry and let her cry and let them both release all of the emotions that were so tightly packed inside of each of them. But he didn't. Instead, he tried to provide as much comfort as he was able to give without physically touching her.
"I really needed someone to talk to," she said. "I don't have anyone else in my life that I can be completely honest with. I keep trying to talk to my friends about this without actually talking about it, you know? Tell them what happened without being specific or telling them the whole truth. But…I really need to talk to someone…really talk to someone. And to tell you the truth, you're the only person in my life who I can tell everything to."
"Where's your dad?" Vaughn asked softly.
Sydney gave a soft laugh mixed with the tears that had begun trailing down her face and replied, "Working. I doubt he's actually working, just trying to avoid one of the few times in my life that I really need him…I really thought we were getting closer…"
"It'll take time," said Vaughn. "Something like this…it's hard for anyone to deal with…and your dad doesn't have the easiest time opening up, even to his own daughter…it'll take time."
Sydney closed her eyes against the tears that continued to spill from them and said, "I just…don't know what to think anymore. My whole life I've had this…picture of what my family is…who they are…were. I had this…" she paused, searching for the right word, "idealized image of my mother. I thought she was wonderful, I thought she was the most amazing woman in the world. I wanted to be just like her… And my dad…I thought he was the bad one. I thought he didn't care for me or for her or about anything but himself and work. And now I find out that all of that, everything I ever thought about my family is completely wrong."
"Sydney-" Vaughn broke in, trying to disagree.
She continued, as if not hearing him. "She was nothing like the woman I thought she was…she worked for the KGB…God…I just can't believe…it was a lie, all of it…"
"All of what?" Vaughn prompted quietly.
"Everything!" Sydney gave in a sobbing yell. "My whole life, who I am, who she was, everything is a lie! She never loved my father, she probably never loved me…!"
Vaughn shook his head softly. "You don't know that. They didn't tell us anything more than her involvement with the KGB," he reminded her gently.
"She killed your father!" Sydney threw at him, immediately sorry when the words flew from her mouth. Vaughn closed his eyes and she took in the pained expression that flitted across his face, as if her words had physically hit him. Calming her voice, Sydney began again. "She killed people. She worked against the United States for a Russian organization during the Cold War. How do I know that any of her life was real? God, I'm not even sure she died in a car accident. What if she was assassinated?" Sydney shook her head and said softly, "I'm not sure of anything anymore."
Vaughn watched her for a moment as tears continued to stream down her face while she stared at her hands, now once again pulled into the recesses of her sleeves, as they rested in her lap. Moving to sit down on a large box next to the crate on which Sydney sat, he clasped his hands together in front of him and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
"For a long time after my dad died…I was so angry. I was angry at everything. I was angry at whoever killed him, I was angry at whoever he was working for who sent him to his death, but I was also so angry at him. I was angry for a really long time. I still am sometimes. I felt like he had left us, like he had put his job over my mother and I. I felt like he had died for his job and abandoned us. I was so angry with him, so angry that he had this whole secret life that I never knew about, and that he joined the CIA and got himself killed, that he left me mother and I. For the longest time I thought the man I knew, the man that took me to baseball games and read me The BFG was all just an act. Like everything I knew about him and thought about him was a lie." He paused in his story to look at Sydney next to him, who stared back at him, waiting for him to continue. "I told this to my mom one day when I was twelve or thirteen, and she said to me, 'Your dad had two lives. One of them was with us, as your father. And the other you don't know anything about. But that doesn't mean that it wasn't important. And it doesn't change who he was in his life with you. He loved you. And nothing he ever did in his other life could change that.'"
Vaughn stared at Sydney, who looked back at him through the tears that were now becoming less prominent, before continuing. "Sydney…whatever your mother did in her life, she was still your mother…and whatever she did in her other life has nothing to do with the person that you are. Who she was doesn't change who you are." He paused for a moment and looked out ahead of him.
"And anyway, she couldn't have been all bad." At Sydney's questioning look, Vaughn said, "Well she had you. There must've been some good in her for you to turn out the way you did…" he trailed off, unsure as to whether he had said too much. After seeing the faint smile that appeared on her lips, he softly added, "I don't think her life with you was a lie."
Sydney put a hand to her mouth as tears once again began trickling down her face and she closed her eyes, silently crying once more. They sat in silence for a few moments before Sydney opened her eyes and turned to look at Vaughn, the tears still flowing.
"Are you okay?" she asked him softly.
"Yeah," he replied quickly. Then, to her disbelieving expression, he shrugged slightly and quietly said, "I don't know."
Sydney nodded silently and, turning to look forward at nothing in particular, she said, "Yeah."
After a moment's silence, Vaughn said softly, also staring in front of him, "I hate this."
"Yeah."
"I really hate them."
"Me too," she replied softly through tears, knowing without having to ask that he was referring to their parents. They sat quietly for another moment before she said quietly, "Thanks."
He looked at her. "For what?"
She looked back at him. "For calling. For talking. Everything."
"Sydney-" he began, but she stopped him before he could speak any further.
"I know, you said I could talk to you whenever I need to, I just…thanks."
He nodded, then turned to stare ahead of him once again. "I wasn't even sure you wanted to meet with me." He glanced back and saw the look of confusion etched on her face, then elaborated. "You sounded…mad when I called you earlier. You said you weren't sure if you could meet me. I thought you were mad…"
Sydney shook her head quickly as realization dawned on her face and replied, "No, that wasn't why I…My friend, Francie, she's the one getting married. I promised her we'd go dress shopping this weekend and I've had to put it off a couple of times already because of work. I just wasn't sure if I'd be able to make it here on time. To be honest, I was still mad, but…wasn't sure if you'd be mad at me."
"You called me this morning," Vaughn stated more than asked.
"Yeah. I wanted to talk to you…apologize for my mother…"
"You know you don't have to."
"I know."
Neither spoke for a moment before Sydney said, "God, you should see the bridesmaid dresses she wants to get." She smiled despite her crying, trying to lighten their respective moods.
"Bad?"
"Horrible. She generally has such good taste, I can't figure out what she's thinking and I don't really have the heart to tell her right now that there's no way in hell I'm going to wear something with pink tool."
He laughed softly and, finding his eyes once again, she smiled through her tears.
"Is she excited?"
"It's not so much that she's excited, it's more along the lines of insane excitement. I didn't want to ruin her mood by telling her that the bridesmaid dresses looked ridiculous."
"How's her dress?"
"Beautiful. Which is why I can't figure out what she's thinking with the others."
"Maybe she doesn't want to risk anyone else looking more beautiful than her." Sydney gave him a disbelieving look to which he replied, "Five or six years ago my girlfriend at the time, Jane, was a bridesmaid in her cousin's wedding and had to wear this horrible orange thing. She insisted that her cousin had purposely made everyone around her look terrible so that she would look better."
Sydney smiled at the story, then shook her head and said, "No, Francie wouldn't do that. But, regardless, I'm going to look like an idiot if she makes me wear that dress."
"I don't think that's possible," Vaughn replied.
Sydney looked back at him and smiled. He held her gaze for a moment, then, looking slightly embarrassed, he turned to look at the floor. Her tears had become less fervent and she tried to wipe those that remained out of her eyes. Sighing, she turned her gaze downwards as well. "Do you think," she began slowly, trying to choose her words carefully, "that maybe, if the circumstances were different…that if we just met…if you weren't my handler and I wasn't involved with SD-6…that we would be friends in the real world?"
Vaughn's soft sigh reminded Sydney once again of the death of his father at her mother's hand and she guessed that his answer, whether he would voice it or not, would be no for this reason.
"I don't know," he replied softly. "We can't ever be friends out there. At least not until SD-6 is destroyed. But…I would've liked to have been your friend in the real world."
She nodded. "Me too." Wiping away the tears that had again begun to form in her eyes she let out a strangled sigh and said, "You know, when all of this is over…we're all going to need a lot of therapy."
He gave a small laugh and said simply, "Yeah." Looking almost cautiously over at her, he raised his hand hesitantly. She turned to look back at him as he gently took his hand in hers.
Despite the bond that they had formed over the previous few months, the two had rarely shared any kind of physical contact. There was danger in physical contact, danger that Vaughn was very aware of. The threat of death forbade their ever touching each other in public. While in the relative private of the warehouse, however, Vaughn still found that he had to control his impulse to reach out to her every so often, which proved to be particularly hard when she came to him upset about something, and forced him to keep a substantial physical distance from her for the most part during their meetings. Despite his constant self denials, he knew that he was getting too close to her; that if he let himself, he could probably fall in love with her. And he knew that that was impossible. So he usually kept his distance.
However, he allowed himself this one transgression and softly held her hand in his. They sat together, hands clasped, each staring straight ahead, silently. Neither thought about much of anything. For the moment, they were each content to sit, not thinking of the past, not thinking of the future. Just sitting together.