Chapter 34: There's No Place Like Home…
Nadia & Eric,
It's been three months since I last saw you, and I have to admit that I miss you and Eric so much that it hurts. We've got friends out here, but it's just not the same. In any case, Danny's doing so much better! The scar on his chest is still a little ominous, but we're working with him on that. In fact, the other day – Vaughn painted a replica scar on his own chest so Danny wouldn't be afraid to go swimming with his friends.
It's surprising how self-conscious a four (almost five-year-old) can be! Yet, I do say that with a small amount of chagrin, because I'm pretty self-conscious myself. Carrying one baby makes you fat enough, but carrying two?
Everything's healthy, and no Eric (since I know you're leaning over Nadi's shoulder to read this letter) we still haven't found out what they are yet. You've only got two more months to wait anyway. Michael almost broke at the appointment last week and asked. Danny asked us what he was going to have, brothers or sisters, and Vaughn almost didn't have the heart to tell him that we just weren't sure yet.
I managed to persuade him otherwise.
Vaughn's done well with the job hunt. He's found a place coaching a mini-league hockey team. He loves it, though I really don't have to tell you that. It's only a matter of time before Danny's old enough (and healthy enough) to play on his Daddy's team, and for that we're pretty thankful.
Speaking of giving thanks, we're inviting you and Eric out here for Thanksgiving, if you think you'll be able to arrange it. I know all about red-tape, so I understand if you can't, but Danny's been talking non-stop about how he can beat Uncle Eric in a pumpkin pie eating contest that it's been on my mind all month.
And…I know I can really use another pair of hands in the kitchen getting everything ready. I've already got a turkey in my stomach – essentially the size of the massive growth on my waist – I don't really want to molest another by myself; what with the stuffing, pulling out and lifting.
Write back if you can, and if not, we can handle e-mail.
All our love,
Sydney, Michael and Danny.
"Wait, mommy, you forgot the twins!" Danny called out from his spot at the kitchen table, a half-colored dinosaur picture sitting in front of him. "We put our names on, why not them? And why did you write Daddy's? Can't he do his own?"
"Sweetie, it's pretty tough for the twins to do that from inside mommy's stomach. Why don't you do it for them? And I just put Daddy's name with mine, but when he gets home you can ask him if it's okay." Sydney smiled back over at him from the stove as she stirred the chili in the large pot.
As if on cue, the front door opened and Vaughn walked in. She heard the thump of his sports bag on the wooden floor of the entryway, and the following two thuds of his shoes being kicked aside.
"It smells so good in here, I can almost taste dinner," he called out, Danny flashing him a dimpled smile before concentrating on signing the card for the two unborn additions to the family.
"Mommy, how do you spell twins?" he asked, reaching up and hugging his sweaty father, Michael pressing a kiss to his son's forehead before moving over to his wife.
"T-" she started, setting the metal spoon on its holder and turning to give Vaughn a proper greeting. He hugged her close, despite the awkward bulge of her stomach, and placed a lingering kiss to her mouth. "You're sweaty and you smell like hockey. Go take a shower, dinner should be ready when you're done."
"Mommy?"
"W-" she continued with her spelling. She'd purchased several books from preschool to first grade and had begun teaching the little boy everything he'd need to know right after they'd arrived in Denver. It had given them something to do in the new setting, but also some quality mother-son bonding time.
His little tongue stuck out as he made the squiggly lines of the W, finishing with a smile.
"I-N-S." she finished and set the wide flat lid over the top of the simmering concoction, turning the stove on low before moving back to the table to look over his shoulder. Her fingers moved through his hair and he unconsciously leaned back against her hand for a moment as he finished the curved line of the S.
"Good job, sweetie. You're getting really good at this. You know what? You might be ready for school in the spring,"
"Really?!" he burst, standing quickly on the kitchen chair and jumping up and down. "I wanna go to school! Let's go now!" he begged, Sydney picking him up and holding him despite the large lump of her middle.
"Well, school already started, so we'll have to wait until after the snow leaves, but I think you're more than ready for Kindergarten. I'll have to talk about it with your daddy. Let's set the table for dinner," she smiled, using him to reach the plastic cups that Vaughn insisted keeping up on a top shelf above the counter.
With her newly expanded stomach – and even on her tippy-toes – there's no way that she could reach them without an extra foot. Holding Danny up so he could grab three cups, making sure he counts out loud as he picks them, she set him down on the floor and watched as he scampers over to the table slightly out of breath.
What she'd said in the note to her sister was true. He was getting much better. His lungs were getting stronger and his blood was starting to look good. The doctors were bound and sure that most of the cancer was on its way out of his system. They'd been taking it easy for a month, and she'd seen him improve quickly.
"How's your chest?" she asked, seeing him come back into the kitchen and take the forks and spoons she'd set out on the counter.
"Good,"
"Does it hurt at all?" she asked again, seeing him methodically lay each and every piece of silverware on the edge of the place mats, picking up the letter and his dinosaur and putting it on the counter.
"Nope," he smiled as she handed him his plates that he'd painted – each saying their names – and making sure they were at the correct spots on the table before climbing up into his chair to wait.
"You know what I think? I think we need to make Daddy take us out for ice cream." She smiled grabbing bowls and scooping up the chili, carrying them over to the table as Vaughn trotted down the stairs and into the kitchen with his shirt in his hands.
Sydney's eyes scanned his chest briefly before he pulled the white undershirt over his rippling torso and adjusted the drawstring pants around his waist.
"How was hockey, Daddy?"
"Pretty fun," he answered, lifting the bowl of salad off of the counter and placing it into the center of the table as Sydney grabbed the dressing from the fridge. "The boys are getting better, and we even have one little girl on our team."
"Eww, girls can't play hockey!" Danny grumbled, feeling Sydney's flicked finger thump him on the back of the head. "Hey!" he growled playfully, swatting at her hands as she tossed him a grin.
"Danny, do you want milk or juice?"
"What kind of juice?" he asked, looking as she opened the fridge.
"We've got apple and orange, and then some mixed stuff in juice boxes." She answered.
"Ummm…juice box please. They have straws and are funner," he grinned, looking down at his steaming bowl of chili.
After grabbing the warm tortillas from the microwave, the small family settled down to eat. Danny told Vaughn all about the letter that they were going to send to his 'Tia Nadi and Uncle Eric', listening with rapt attention as Vaughn talked about his hockey practice.
After a thoroughly stuffing meal, Vaughn and Danny stood at the sink – the smaller on his step stool so he could reach over the counter – to do the dishes. Vaughn rinsed as the little boy ferried the plates, bowls, cups, and silverware over to the dishwasher.
"Momma says that we need to have ice cream," he mumbled, looking up at Vaughn with hopeful eyes. "I've been really good, daddy," he pleaded, Vaughn looking down at the child with a loving grin.
"Well, since you've been really good, I suppose we need some ice cream. Go get shoes on," he winked, Danny shouting a 'hooray' as he scampered out of the kitchen and into the living room as Sydney finished addressing the envelope.
"I take it we're going for ice cream," Sydney smiled as Vaughn walked to the door, picking up his wallet and keys before sliding their respective flip-flops on.
The moment of alone-time didn't go unnoticed by the parents and they were immediately drawn to one another. His hands sprawled over her large stomach before circling around both sides to rest against her lower back.
"Back still sore?" he asked in a whisper, his breath fanning the side of her cheek.
"A little, but I'll be fine. I'm excited to take Danny out," she smiled, her fingers rubbing the back of his neck as his hair tickled the back of her hands. "You need your haircut,"
"Yeah, I know. It's getting' kinda shaggy. So is Danny's. Looks like we're tryin' to grow a mullet on him." he laughed, feeling her chuckle against his chest.
"Well, maybe when we get back tonight I'll play barber." she pulled back and flashed him a smile as Danny clomped down the stairs with Denver on his heels.
"I was thinkin'," he beamed up at them as they pulled apart. "Maybe can we go by the water?"
"By the water?" Vaughn questioned, looking up at Sydney's smiling face.
"Over by Chatfield Reservoir. On the north side there's an ice cream shop between the pier and a gigantic playground." she explained as they watched Danny struggle with his shoelaces.
"Sounds great," he smiled, leading them from the house, Sydney dropping the letter in the mail before they piled into the car.
…
Eric groaned as he walked into the apartment, Nadia's dinner assailing his senses as the book bag full of papers weighed heavily over his arm. On his other shoulder hung the sports bag, the zipper open and the boxing gloves sticking out of the opening. His tie hung loose around his neck, pulled at during the many hours of debrief with Sloane and the new senior officer that had taken over for Jack Bristow.
Agent Rink. There were only two things that Weiss had learned about Agent Rink so far. One, Agent Rink was even more of a hard-ass than Jack had been. Two, Agent Rink was a complete ahle.
Eric sighed with a contented smile as he powered down his computer and picked up his discarded jacket from his chair.
"Going somewhere, Agent Weiss?" the booming voice of the six-foot-four Samuel Rink filled the nearly empty APO office, making the younger agent jump.
The stare that Weiss once thought had been patented by Senior Bristow was a near permanent fixture on Rinks' face.
"Umm…home?" he squeaked, cursing himself for sounding like a wuss.
"Debrief in forty minutes. You are required" he growled, turned, and walked back to his office without so much as a glance back at the crestfallen agent.
Throwing his things back onto his workstation, he fished into his pocket to locate his cell phone.
Three rings later, Nadia's voice broke through. "Hey angel baby, I'm not gonna be able to pick you up from the airport," he grumbled, hearing her sigh. "How was Greece?"
"Nothing. It's as if the Anderson's have just dropped off the face of the planet," she growled, curling back up in her seat and tucking her legs underneath her.
"Well, we know that's not true."
"What's going on that you can't pick me up at the airport? Anything new?" she asked, not really wanting the conversation to end.
"No. Well…not that I know of. Rink's and Sloane just wanna make our lives miserable,"
"I'll make a late dinner," she promised before they said their goodbyes and hung up.
And the meeting was almost exactly what Weiss had originally thought. Lame and useless with another mission involved. At least he got to go with Nadia this time.
"Nadi?" he called, seeing her head pop out from the kitchen as she fixed him with a bright smile.
He tossed down his stuff, throwing the unread mail onto the table as he stalked over to where she stood and pulled her into his arms. She placed her head onto his sturdy shoulder and inhaled his slightly sweaty yet masculine scent, a small trace of his cologne still sticking to his throat from where he put it on that morning.
"I missed you," he mumbled into her hair, his hands running up and down her back.
"I was only gone two days, Eric," she chastised, pulling away slightly before she saw the ebbing worry in his dark eyes. "For the record, I missed you too. Now, dinner is officially cold, so grab something to drink and sit down while I heat it up."
The meal was a quiet affair between the two as they both sat in their own little worlds. Eric cleaned up the plates as Nadia washed down the table, tossing the cloth to the counter as she leaned against the wall to watch him.
"What?" he asked with a small grin, peering over at her from the corner of his eye.
"Nothin'," she winked in return, picking up the butter and placing it back into the fridge.
"You heard from Syd and Mike?" he asked nonchalantly, though Nadia knew how much it pained him that the small – soon to be large – family wasn't around any longer.
She shook her head and moved up behind him, her fingers kneading the tense muscles of his back.
"Look, I know it's only 9:30, but I'm beat. Let's go to bed," she sighed, kissed between his shoulder blades as he left the remaining dishes in the sink.
They readied themselves for bed, a much needed shower relaxing them both even more as Eric's hands patted her body dry from head to toe, his rising erection making Nadia smile.
"I thought you said you were tired," she grinned, her towel rubbing his firm - but still slightly padded – stomach, the terry cloth making his semi-erect hard-on jump to full attention.
"Hey, for you…I'm never too tired." Laughing, he dropped the towels to the floor and hauled her up against his body.
His mouth instantly found her own, his stubbly face rubbing against her smooth cheeks and chin. Nadia laughed as they both tipped onto the bed, Eric's mouth blazing a path down her shoulder and back up again before skimming across to nibble at her collarbone and the underside of her jaw.
The buzzing of a cell phone was ignored as her fingers coiled around his growing member, his breath rushing out against her heated skin in a whoosh. When his cell buzzed once more a moment later, he glared at the contraption sitting harmlessly on the nightstand.
"Should we answer it?" he asked in a harsh whisper, Nadia following his gaze to the leash-like device beckoning them.
"Nah. Let it go," she grinned, pulling his mouth back down to hers for a searing kiss, her tongue circling his before her own distinct ring pierced the air from the living room.
"It had better be important, or so help me god-" he let it go as she grabbed his oversized oxford button-up and bolted out to the phone perched on the counter.
Marshall showed up with blinking lights as she frowned, pushing the button.
"Marshall? What's up?" her voice was somewhat annoyed, but at the same time she knew that it wouldn't be something serious if Marshall was calling them.
"Get in here now." He ordered, hanging up quickly.
She pulled the phone away from her ear, double checking to make sure that it was indeed Marshall who had just hung up on her.
"Who was it?" Eric asked, slipping his boxers on and adjusting them around his waist while walking from the bedroom into the living room.
"It was Marshall," she paused, looking over at the disheveled agent wearing a pair of bright red boxers sporting little hearts dancing with outstretched arms. "You look ridiculous in those,"
"What did he say?" Weiss grinned but chose to ignore her jab at his fashion sense.
"He said, and I quote, 'Get in here now,'"
"That was it? No usual Marshall banter?"
"Nope,"
"Nothing was stuttered?" he asked as they brusquely went back the put their clothes on.
"Nope,"
"Well…this can't be good," he muttered.
…
"Danny, don't go too far ahead, please," Sydney called as she and Michael watched the little boy scamper quickly from the car to the sidewalk, his excitement escaping in the form of little hops and bounces from one foot to another on his new light-up shoes. The red blinking stretched from the tip of his toes along the outside of both feet to the back, where Vaughn joked about them being his brake lights.
There were quite a few people at the pier that night, the jagged rocks of Chatfield Reservoir shining with the last pink hue of the sun setting on the horizon as the sky was bathed in color.
"Well, we certainly don't have sunsets like this in L.A.," Vaughn grinned, pulling Sydney's hand into his own as they met up with Danny as he started talking, grabbing his father's hand, his own being swallowed by Michael's huge palm.
"-then me'n'mom jumped off the swings! The duckies here bite, so don't try 'n pet them," he warned, Michael answering when necessary as he set his other hand to the small of Sydney's back. "Ooh! The ice cream man!" he shouted, pulling his hand free from Vaughn's as he bolted the thirty or so feet to the counter of the small shop.
"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" he couldn't contain his enthusiasm, and the young woman behind the counter merely smiled down at the little green-eyed boy who's hair was the only thing visible over the edge.
The ambling parents got there soon enough as Danny begged his father to lift him up to see. After ordering their ice cream, they walked quietly to the playground, the child maneuvering with his large cone held firmly in two hands, the mint chocolate chip ice cream scoop – chosen because it happened to be his father's favorite – wobbling slightly. His eyes focused completely on his dessert, he stumbled over a large crack in the pavement.
It wasn't large enough for him to fall, but it was apparently enough of a jolt to cause the scoop of ice cream to roll off of its precarious spot atop the hollow cone and land with a splat on the sidewalk.
Danny's hands flopped down at his side, his cone tilted toward the ground as tears fell from his eyes. Vaughn and Sydney made it a few feet before realizing he'd stopped and turned to see what he'd focused on.
"Oh, buddy," Michael mumbled, moving over to where his little boy was staring dejectedly at the spot where his scoop had landed. "Here," he smiled, taking Danny's now empty cone away and placing his own, full treat, into the boy's hands.
"Really, daddy?" he asked with a sniffle, his eyes shining as Vaughn cupped his cheek with a smile, lifting him up against his chest as he rejoined Sydney, his free hand linking with hers.
They sat on a small bench next to the playground to eat their ice cream - in Vaughn's case, to eat an empty cone – but the playground was too much for Danny to take. After eating more than half of his cone, he handed it off to his father and asked permission to go play.
"Ten minutes, buddy, it's gettin' late," Michael said, using the sleeve of his jacked to wipe off his son's sticky face before turning him loose to play.
"So you do get some ice cream after all," Sydney smiled, scooting over and tucking herself into Vaughn's side as she finished her cup of sherbet and tossed it and the plastic spoon into the neighboring trash bin.
Michael merely smiled, pressing a cold kiss to her forehead as Danny immediately went to the swings and jumped in. He kicked his legs as best as he could, but wasn't able to really get anywhere.
"You'd better go help him," she grinned, speaking right before the little boy called for aid.
"You'll be okay here?" he asked and stood, slipping off his jacket as she took it from him and placed it over her lap.
She nodded as she watched him walk over to where Danny was swinging, a parent who had been pushing her daughter giving him a hand before his father arrived.
Sydney sighed as she felt one, or possibly both, of the children wiggle around in her stomach, her hand caressing the large lump lovingly. Though she welcomed the pregnancy and – despite the morning sickness – had enjoyed every moment of it, this huge belly wasn't something she was going to miss.
The constant kicks to her midsection put a permanent goofy smile on her face, one that only Vaughn understood completely. Since he had decided to stay put they'd been like one, great big happy family, something that none of them ever got a chance at.
Two small hands covered her eyes from behind, making her jump slightly before a small voice filled the air. "Guess who,"
"Ummm…is it Santa?" she asks with a grin, the child behind her giggling as he leans up and places a kiss to her cheek.
"No, silly, it's Danny." He explained, walking around and climbing up awkwardly into her lap, both small hands resting on the roundness of her stomach.
"Danny who?" she continued as he leaned forward, wrapping both arms around her oversized middle and resting his head where the lump smoothed out underneath her breasts, cocooning the bundles of joy and clinging to his mother like a small monkey.
"Your Danny," he smiles with a yawn, Vaughn jogging up and setting a kiss to her head as he runs his fingers through Danny's hair.
Sydney stood with Michael's help, his hands steadying her as she cradled the nearly sleeping little boy against her chest, her stomach being used as something like a chair for him to rest against. After reassuring her husband that she'd be fine carrying him – nearly a hundred times – they made it to the car. Danny was snoring lightly with his nose tucked against her throat.
Vaughn took him and settled him into his car seat, Sydney sliding in the front as Michael's cell phone went off.
"Here, it's in your jacket," she grabbed it, rifling through the pockets before finding and answering it.
"I think I have the wrong number, is this Mr. Vaughn's cell phone?"
"This is Mrs. Vaughn,"
"Oh, this is Dr. Patterson. I just left you a message at home, but then I scrounged around and found a cell phone number you'd left with me for emergencies."
"Is this an emergency?" she asked, her voice low as Vaughn jumped in next to her, his eyes concerned.
"No, no, everything's fine, I just wanted to let you know that I got Daniel's refill in today, and since I'm working late at the office, I was wondering if you'd be able to run by and pick it up. If you're not busy, that is,"
"No, I'm sure we can pick it up tonight. How late are you going to be there?" she asked, mouthing that everything would be fine over to Vaughn as he started up the car and pulled back out onto the road.
"Pretty late, just knock on the office door and I'll have my nurse open it up. We're recompiling all of our patient's information and it's gonna take a while."
"Okay, well, I'll talk to Michael and we'll head over." She smiles, though she knows he can't see it, and hangs up the phone. "Dr. Patterson says that Danny's refill is in and that he'll be working late at the office so we should stop by and pick it up."
"Well, we have to pass the house in order to get there, so I'll drop off you and Dans, then you can get him ready for bed and he can take his medicine when I get back." Vaughn smiled, his heart beating slower since he heard that it wasn't an emergency call from Danny's doctor.
The drive home was smooth, Danny waking half-way and sitting with serene eyes as they merged onto the highway, Danny beginning to talk of school as the parents smiled.
…
"Evan Anderson is dead," Sloane blurted as Eric and Nadia walked into APO's main office area.
"What? When? Do we have confirmation on how?" Weiss asked, Arvin leading the way past the conference room and into Marshall's cluttered office.
"She was admitted to a hospital in Canada, first class in their studies of cancer and cancer-related drugs."
"Did we apprehend them both?" Nadia asked as Marshall typed away on his keyboard, listening but not participating in the conversation.
"Unfortunately, no. Ryan Anderson merely dropped her off promising to return in a week or so to check on her progress, but never returned. She passed away early this morning." Sloane finished as Marshall pulled up a photo of a coroner loading the deceased woman onto a gurney.
"So, with the Anderson's no longer wanting to use Danny as a guinea pig, does this mean that the Vaughn's can some home?"
"It would appear so yes. Over the last week or so, we've followed every possible sighting, clue; any lead on Anderson after he dropped off his wife. He's been in contact with some pretty gnarly people," Marshall explained, his fingers once again flying over the keys.
An image popped up on the screen, Weiss recognizing his picture immediately. "Ronald Zimmerman. He's the guy from England, right? That the S.I.S. had looking into the Anderson's on their side? He provided the Intel on Danny's birth parents,"
"Yes, good Agent Weiss. That man is dead. He's been giving us information, whenever he could, but British Intelligence has confirmed that he has been killed. That leaves this task force as the only on actively searching for Ryan Anderson. I want him found,"
"Whoa…there's a flood of e-mails between Anderson and someone in Colorado," Marshall called, effectively making the other three in the room jump.
"To whom? Who's the recipient?" Sloane asked, peering over the young man's shoulder in an effort to follow what he was doing.
"I don't know…but they mention an address," he mumbled, searching it out and reading it aloud, Weiss and Nadia joining in as they read it all together.
"Sydney and Michael Vaughn. 17883 W Berry Dr. Denver, CO, 80123,"
"Oh my god…"
…
"Okay you two, I'll be right back. Danny, don't forget. You promised your mommy you' help her clean up the toys in the basement," he pointed at his son, a stern look in his eyes.
He kissed them both, opening the door and trotting out before hearing Denver whine at the gate.
"Oh all right," he smiled, opening the passenger-side door and whistling, the large dog using his nose to open the small gate and bounded over and into the car. "We need to teach you not to do that. At least you only do it when asked," he grinned, the mutt taking up Sydney's seat as he pulled out of the driveway and out onto the street.
Parking at the doctor's office, he left the window down a notch for the dog and jumped out, knocking twice before Patterson's nurse opened up the door for him.
"Thanks, Kathy," he smiled, his cell phone buzzing in his pocket. "Give me a sec, it's long distance," he smiled, turning away from the smiling doctor and his assistant as they sat pouring over document after document.
"Hey, Weiss, what's up?" he smiled, though it soon faded as his friend yelled through the phone.
"Get out of the house!"
"What?" he asked, confused.
"Get out of the house now. It's Anderson…he's –"
Vaughn looked up quickly as something slammed into the side of his head, stars flashing in front of his eyes before he hit the floor.
He woke slowly the stench of sulfur under his nose making him cringe. His eyes were blurred but soon focused on the two men standing over him. Patterson was counting hundred dollar bills while the other was a face he recognized all too well.
"Good evening, Mr. Vaughn. At last we have the pleasure of meeting face to face."
"What the hell do you want with me Anderson?" he groaned, his fingers wiggling and testing his bounds.
"I want you to know what it feels like. To lose everything you've desperately tried to keep safe," tears filled and fell from the man's eyes as he thrust a photo of Evan Anderson into Vaughn's face. "My wife…my beautiful wife is dead because you took away the one chance I had to cure her."
"Murdering children isn't a cure." Vaughn snarled, Anderson's fist slamming into his cheek as his head whipped back against the back of the office chair.
"I'll explain everything, Mr. Vaughn, but first," he paused, kicking Michael's chair until he turned around to face a large television in the corner.
"Let's watch a little movie, shall we?" Lifting a remote he pressed a button, an image flickering on the screen.
His eyes squinted to get a closer look, but it wasn't hard to see that it was his own home that the blurry, video-camera was focusing on.
"Wait...what are you doing?" Michael asked, terror filling his stomach like a lead balloon.
"I watched my wife die. I watched the surveillance feed until she stopped breathing." He growled, the image showing that Danny and Sydney were in the basement from where the lights were on.
"Now…I shall give you the same privilege. You have fifteen seconds to say goodbye," He growled, patting Vaughn's shoulder and locking the wheels of the chair before exiting the room.
He didn't want to count, but as the door closed, he found himself doing so anyway. His eyes filled with tears as he called out to Sydney, begging her to read his mind and leave their home. He barely noticed his wet cheeks as he hit one on the countdown in his mind.
It started with the roof. The giant ball of flames licking the sky as it flew into the air in pieces, some landing on the road and others going all the way into Mrs. Gatsby's front yard. It seemed to erupt at once, the walls expanding and buckling as the windows shattered along with his heart.
Michael longed to touch the screen with his bound hands as sobs wracked his body, Anderson's laughter piercing the air as something hard and metallic slammed into the back of his skull.
"Sydney-" he muttered before slipping into unconsciousness.
…