Illusion
"Sydney, he's going to be fine," Vaughn coaxed, leading Sydney over to a pair of chairs in the waiting room.
Sydney slumped down into a seat, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. She wasn't crying, she had exhausted all of her tears in the ambulance. She nodded slowly and felt Vaughn's hand on her back, tracing circles. Unconsciously, she reached a hand down, pretending to scratch an itch, but actually checking to see if the page was still in place. She sighed a bit, relieved that the page was still there, then leaned back against the chair as Vaughn shifted and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
After a few minutes, Vaughn got up and began to walk back and forth, his hands shoved into his pockets. Sydney raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you doing?"
Vaughn looked over at her and shrugged nonchalantly. "Pacing."
"'Pacing,'" Sydney repeated, shaking her head a bit.
"What?" Vaughn asked, almost defensively.
Sydney looked down and wrung her hands, then said, "Isn't that more of a girl thing?"
Vaughn frowned. "If I sit too long, I'm going to go crazy. I needed to move."
Sydney rolled her eyes and stood up. "I was joking, Vaughn." Vaughn frowned again and Sydney muttered, "Throw me a bone, here."
Vaughn sighed. "Look, I'm just a bit testy."
Sydney narrowed her eyes at him and slowly enunciated her next words. "No. Shit."
"Syd—"
"Vaughn, we're both worried. Obviously, I have more reason to be worried than you do because those two men mean more to me than anything. But seriously, if we both fixate on it and allow ourselves to be consumed by worry and fear, we're not going to have any strength left for when the doctors come back out with their verdict," Sydney said, her eyes blazing. She sighed and dropped back down in her seat.
Vaughn looked at her for a few moments, trying to decipher her behavior. Just a short while before, she was in pieces, and now she was acting like what had happened wasn't affecting her. He figured it was because she was either embarrassed about breaking down earlier or she was trying to be as strong as she could, so if things *did* take a turn for the worst, she would be prepared. Or, maybe she was compartmentalizing like she had been forced to do when she was a double-agent. He sighed and sat down next to her as her head dropped onto his shoulder. His nose nuzzled her hair and he reached for one of her hands.
Sydney breathed deeply, a shudder reverberating throughout her body. Vaughn tightened his hold on her hand and asked softly, "Syd, are you all right?"
Sydney sighed and moved closer to Vaughn, her head fitting into the curve of his neck. "I think you know me well enough to know the answer to that question."
Vaughn sighed as well and whispered, "Yeah."
"It's impossible to die from a leg wound, isn't it?" Sydney asked after a few minutes of silence.
In spite of himself, Vaughn managed a chuckle. "I would certainly hope so." He looked down and saw Sydney's lips curve into a small smile. He knew she was trying to avoid talking about Sark because of the nature of his injuries. She wanted to focus on Will because she knew he would be okay and because she was afraid to admit to herself that she might lose Sark. Vaughn squeezed Sydney's hand. "Sark will be fine, too, you know," he said gently.
Sydney's smile faded. "It was bad."
"I know," Vaughn said, "but he'll make it. He's strong. We both know how tough he is."
"He can still be broken no matter how tough he is." The sadness and bitter truthfulness in Sydney's voice caused Vaughn to close his eyes for a moment and let everything sink in. More than just the tone of her voice affected him—it was also the meaning behind her words. Vaughn probably understood exactly what she meant better than anyone.
"You should rest," Vaughn said finally, and Sydney looked up at him and nodded slowly. Vaughn patted his leg. "Makes a good pillow."
Sydney smiled faintly at Vaughn's kindness and resourcefulness, and lay down on her side by him, her cheek on his thigh. She curled her legs up because there wasn't enough room to stretch out and closed her eyes, hoping she would fall asleep quickly. "Thanks," she whispered.
"Mhm," Vaughn murmured, placing a hand on Sydney's hair and stroking the strands with his fingers.
After a bit, Sydney announced, "I have a question."
Vaughn continued to thread his fingers absently through Sydney's chestnut locks as he prompted, "Yeah?"
"Does Michelle know that you work for the CIA?"
Vaughn ceased his stroking of Sydney's hair because of two revelations—Sydney referring to his wife by name and asking a question that he hadn't expected her to ask.
"Vaughn?" Sydney asked, wondering why Vaughn had stopped and why he was taking so long to answer what she believed was a simple question.
"Yeah, she knows," Vaughn told her, twisting some of Sydney's hair around his fingers and using his other hand to briefly rub the top of Sydney's head in something that both he and Sydney decided was an action of reassurance. Reassurance of what though, neither one knew.
Sydney sighed a little. "When you tell her you have to go on a mission, what does she do?"
Vaughn's hand stopped again. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, does she get really worried—almost to the point of freaking out—or does she smile and give you a kiss and say she'll see you when you get back?"
Vaughn laughed a bit, as did Sydney. "Well, in the beginning, she *would* almost freak out, like she was sending me off to war or something and might never see me again. But now, she basically just tells me to be careful and that's about it."
"Ah."
"Well, I'm sure she worries," Vaughn said quickly. "I would, too—and have," he added as an afterthought, and he noticed that Sydney tensed because she knew what he was talking about.
"You mean like when I was still a double-agent and you would worry about whether or not I would come back from a mission," Sydney clarified.
"Yeah," Vaughn said with a sigh, his hand moving down Sydney's arm, over the gooseflesh that had risen on her skin. She reached for his hand and Vaughn grasped it, squeezing gently, and using his other hand to once again rub the top of Sydney's head.
Sydney didn't let the irony escape her—the two of them like this, just living in the moment, a glimpse of what could or might have been. She thought about what her mother had told her—that she had to acquire The Telling and go back to the night of her fight with Allison Doren. She still didn't know exactly why she had to go back, but her mother had her made her believe that it had something to do with the object in her stomach. She decided that would be the first thing she asked her mom when she got back to Los Angeles. She had to know what it was and what it represented.
She sighed. When she went back, assuming everything went according to plan, she would be with Vaughn and Sark would be in CIA custody. A shiver ran down her spine. She would have to choose between the men. Should she give the relationship between herself and Sark a chance since he was the only other person besides her and her mother who would know about The Telling's reversal, or should she stay with Vaughn and pretend that nothing had ever happened between her and Sark?
Her stomach tightened into a knot and a dull ache settled into her chest. She remembered Sark talking to her in the mansion. He had told her he loved her. She decided that she probably loved him, too, if their conversation on the plane was any indication.
When they pulled apart, Sydney bit her lip shyly and looked into Sark's eyes. "Do you think it's possible to be in love with someone after only going out for a couple of days?"
Sark looked far into Sydney's eyes and pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. "I don't know."
Sydney nodded slowly and looked down just as Sark pulled her against him, planting soft kisses in her hair and on her forehead. She sighed softly. "It's been a really long time since I last told someone I loved him," she whispered.
Sark's breath was hot against Sydney's ear. "I'm not sure if I've ever said it to anyone before."
Tears creeped into her eyes. She *did* love Sark. And, when—if, a voice in her mind reminded her—he had recovered, she knew she would love him even more. But there was another question—did she love Vaughn as well? Sydney swallowed hard. In Hong Kong, she had decided that she missed what they had because it was simple and she had been cared for, but she wasn't certain if she was in love with Vaughn. Even so, if she went back, she would have ample time to discover if she did. But since Sark would know about the reversal, he would be sitting in the cell at the CIA hoping against hope that he would be released and be able to take Sydney in his arms and continue their romance.
Sydney drew in a shaky breath and sniffed, blinking furiously to fight back her tears. She felt Vaughn's hand on her cheek and she prayed that her tears wouldn't fall.
"I'm fine, Vaughn," she assured him before he could ask.
"Just making sure," Vaughn said softly, his thumb caressing her high cheekbone.
Sydney reached a hand up and grasped Vaughn's thumb, then brought his hand down towards her chest where she interlaced their fingers. Without thinking, she raised his hand to her mouth and began to gently kiss his knuckles. Vaughn started to pull his hand away, but Sydney kept her grip on it, and began to suck lightly on the tips of his fingers. At this point, Sydney wasn't sure if she was doing it to try and find a bit of peace where she didn't have to worry about Sark surviving, or if she was thinking ahead to when she would be using The Telling to go back and possibly keep what she had with Vaughn alive.
"Sydney."
Sydney closed her eyes and briefly wished that she could take back what she had done. She let go of Vaughn's hand. "Sorry," she mumbled, and stood up. She crossed her arms over her chest, vaguely aware of a wave of desire that was coursing through her body.
Vaughn stood up and went over to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I know why you're doing this, Sydney."
"Why?" Sydney asked, her voice flat and disinterested.
"You're worried about Sark."
Sydney gritted her teeth. "Your point being?"
"Jesus, Syd, I don't know. All I know is that I have a wife and all of a sudden, you're kissing my fingers." Vaughn spun Sydney around and turned her face towards him when she looked away. "Syd, there can't be anything between us, you *know* that."
"Yeah," Sydney said, looking into Vaughn's eyes, "I do. I also know that I apparently didn't mean much to you if you couldn't even wait longer than a few months before you went to find some other woman to *fuck*."
Vaughn's eyes went wild with rage, but Sydney stood her ground. She was breaking through and she knew Vaughn wasn't liking it. "You know I cared about you, Sydney. You know that what we had together after SD-6 was gone was incredibly special to me." He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose with the index finger and thumb of his left hand. Sydney clenched her teeth upon seeing Vaughn's ring. "Syd, what was I supposed to do? Wait for a body and be miserable in the process? If I hadn't met Michelle, who knows—I might have been driven to suicide. That's how bad it was, Sydney. I didn't know what to do, I was a complete wreck."
Sydney tried to step away from him, but Vaughn kept his hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him, seeing a million emotions in his eyes. She knew he cared about her, but she didn't realize it would hurt him this much to accuse him otherwise.
"Sydney, I just—" He shook his head. "I was devastated, okay? I was just—"
"Vaughn."
Vaughn frowned a bit and looked at her. Her eyes were filled with tears and he knew that she was obviously feeling burned by the fact that he had moved on and she was still stuck in having to deal with the fact that he had slipped through her fingers without her permission. He couldn't imagine what she must have gone through and what she was still going through. It wasn't fair to her. But it also wasn't fair for him to suffer.
"Syd, I'm sorry, but I wasn't going to let myself waste away. I mean Christ, if you were in the same situation, wouldn't you have tried to move on? Tried to find some shred of happiness? It was painful without you, Sydney, but I can't—"
He was silenced by Sydney's lips on his. He forgot about his rant and wrapped his arms around her, cupping the base of her head in one hand and resting his other hand on her back. Sydney thread her fingers through Vaughn's short hair and slipped her tongue into his mouth as she pressed her body against his. She momentarily forgot the fact that they were making out in the middle of a hospital.
Luckily, no one was around.
They finally pulled back, breathless and Vaughn looked into Sydney's eyes. " was all he could manage, " She nodded and he said it again. "Sydney."
Sydney sat up and surveyed her surroundings.
"Sydney."
Sydney wiped at her eyes, vaguely aware that she had been crying earlier.
"Sydney?"
She blinked a few times, trying to figure out what was going on. She heard her name again and squinted to see Vaughn sitting next to her, rubbing her shoulders and trying to get her to come back to reality. She swallowed and opened her mouth to speak, but her throat was still clogged with sobs.
"What's going on?" she managed to choke out.
"Syd, we just got to the hospital," Vaughn explained and Sydney looked around to see that they were in the ambulance. "You passed out."
Sydney nodded slowly. "Sark and Will have been taken in already?" she asked, looking around and finding that both stretchers were gone.
Vaughn nodded and stood up, then jumped down to the asphalt. He reached a hand out to Sydney and she stood and grasped it, nearly stumbling when she made it out of the vehicle. She swiped at her forehead and realized that a thin sheen of sweat had formed. It had been a dream—kissing Vaughn in the hospital.
"Are you all right?" Vaughn asked, running his hands up and down Sydney's bare arms.
Despite the muggy atmosphere, Sydney felt cold and wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she had on more than a thin undershirt. She shook her head in answer to Vaughn's question and felt herself succumbing to more tears as the reality of the situation—Will with a leg wound and Sark with a chest wound and two leg wounds—sunk in.
"Come here," Vaughn coaxed, putting his arms around Sydney, and tilting her head down so that it rested on his shoulder.
"Sark's not going to make it, is he?" Sydney asked, but it was almost more of a statement than a question. She found it hard to believe that Sark would be able to survive his wounds.
Vaughn hugged her tighter and put his arm around her shoulders so he could lead her into the waiting room. He didn't answer her question.
"Tell me," Sydney ordered, stopping abruptly and twisting out of Vaughn's grasp. He still didn't answer her, so she grabbed him by the shirt. "Tell. Me."
"Syd, I don't know," Vaughn admitted, looking her straight in the eye. He saw her fury dissolve into sadness and he led her into the waiting room, his arm around her shaking shoulders. He sat her down in a chair and sat next to her. Almost immediately, she lay down and curled up on her side as she placed her head on his leg. Sydney closed her eyes, pushing aside the pain of knowing that Sark might not survive and instead pondering what her dream meant.
Why had she dreamed what she had? She loved Sark. She felt her breath catch in her throat and smiled at the revelation. She loved Sark, she really did. When he came out of his surgery, she would march in and tell him so. But, there was still a sinking feeling in her stomach that stemmed from believing that Sark might not make it.
Also, she had to deal with the fact that her mother had told her to reverse what The Telling had done, which would put her at the end of her fight with Doren and mean that she was still with Vaughn. Was she prepared for that? And, more importantly, did she *want* that?
Her dream led her to believe that she wasn't over Vaughn like she had believed she was, and if that was true, where would that lead her in terms of her relationship with Sark? He would still be in the cell at the CIA. Plus, as Sydney had realized in her dream, Sark would know that they had gone back and would be expecting some sort of elaborate plan of escape so he could be with her.
She knew she loved him. But she also knew that it would be incredibly difficult to break Sark out of CIA custody. If she did, she would probably be on the run forever because she wouldn't be able to be with him in a normal environment. She felt Vaughn's fingers sliding over her hair and she nearly lost her train of thought. In her dream, she remembered thinking about how she missed what she and Vaughn had had together.
She realized then that she had a hard decision to make and she had no idea how she was going to make it.
A/N: *snicker* Okay, how many of you guys thought the dream sequence was real and that I had lost my mind and was going to turn this into S/V? Heh. Well anyways, Syd *does* have a hard decision to make, unless she can convince Agent Lightbulb to let Sark out of the cell. Although, Sark needs to be alive first. He might not even make it. Hmmm Oh, I have to say to Sassy that I love the nickname Agent Wrinkle for Vaughn. Hee;x