Shell Shocked, Part One

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, and make no money from writing, so please, don't sue! It's just good, clean fun!

Background: This story follows Vaughn as he slowly discovers the truth about Sydney's mother's books and the aftermath. Beginning set sometime after Episode 8 but before Episode 10.

Author's notes: And yes, I do like feedback… Thanks!

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Location: CIA Office, L.A. Branch

Michael Vaughn leaned back in his chair, stretching the kinks out of his back from the hours of sitting in what must be the world's most uncomfortable office chair. Rubbing his bleary eyes with his fists, he leaned back toward the computer screen that connected him to the CIA's main database.

Draining the dregs from his third cup of coffee, he set the cup aside and checked his wristwatch: 1:42AM. That meant he'd been parked in front of that blasted machine for more than seven hours. "Damn all classified info…" he mumbled. He felt like he was sitting on the edge of a huge discovery, but no matter what avenue he took, it always led him to classified information…the kind of info that only the most senior of officers in the CIA had access to. It was driving him crazy.

He couldn't believe how something so seemingly routine had turned into such a frustrating mystery….

~Flashback~

Location: L.A. County Blood Drive Mobile, Sydney's college campus

Vaughn looked up as he heard the door to the van open and Sydney entered. A tentative smile formed on her face as their eyes connected for a long moment. But then, as if in sudden remembrance, she twisted the engagement ring around on her left ring finger and looked away, embarrassed.

Vaughn always hated when she did that. But moreover, he wondered why she did it. In a way, it almost gave him hope…that maybe he was the person she'd been thinking of during her lie detector test…but he pushed the thought away, as he usually did. After all, it had only been six months since her fiancé had been brutally murdered by SD-6. Vaughn sincerely doubted that an honorable woman like Sydney, who loved her…Danny, he forced himself to correct… enough to turn against SD-6 and risk life and limb daily to take them down, would be ready to add a new man to her life. However, there was one name that gave him a chill whenever he heard Sydney say it: Will.

There was something about the way she said it…or maybe the softened look in her eyes when she said it… that made his heart feel like a lead ball in his chest. After all, this Will…he had the one advantage that Vaughn would never have: He could actually be with Sydney. He could be seen with her in public places without having to worry about one or both of them being killed. He could visit her home, laugh and joke with her, hold her hand or give her a shoulder to cry on…or more, if that was her wish. Will could do and have all the things that Vaughn would do and want…if he would ever consciously admit his more-than-friendly feelings for Sydney to himself, that was.

Suddenly, Vaughn emerged from his musings to the sound of Sydney saying, "…in my backpack… Vaughn? Hey, Vaughn?"

"Huh? What? Oh, sorry…" Vaughn turned for a moment, as if to push some paperwork aside, but in truth, he was hiding the fact that he was blushing from embarrassment at being caught in his thoughts about her. He cleared his throat and turned back to her, offering her the seat next to his with a wave of his hand. Sydney slung her book bag off her shoulder and sat facing him, placing the bag on the floor at her feet.

"You were saying?" Vaughn began, training his green eyes on Sydney's brown ones, giving her his whole attention now.

"Well…" Sydney said, flipping the hair out of her face with a hand. A whisper of a smile crossed Vaughn's face at the now-familiar gesture of hers. "What I said was… I brought those books of my Mom's you wanted to look at. The ones with the Cyrillic code in the margins. So far, I've found three of them that were like that. They're in my backpack."

"Great," Vaughn replied, "I've got a friend with the NSA who could look at those for me…get them deciphered without causing any undue notice." He hesitated for a moment and then said, slightly softer, "I mean, if they are in fact KGB directives, then we wouldn't want word getting back…that we've found them…" he trailed off as Sydney's eyes connected with his again. A hint of pain whispered across her face before she nodded, indicating that she understood, and looked down at her backpack, breaking eye contact.

An aching twinge began to build in his chest, watching her in pain yet again. So much pain…but yet she kept on fighting. Her strength of resolve was one of the traits he admired most. "But at what cost?" he wondered silently.

"I…I'm sorry it took me so long to get them to you…" Sydney occupied herself with unzipping her bag and retrieving the books from inside. Looking up at last, she held them out to Vaughn.

Accepting the books, Vaughn fought to ignore the sliver of heat that shimmied up his spine as their fingers brushed during the transfer. "It's okay, Sydney. I know you've been busy." Vaughn held the books for a moment before setting them aside on the table. "Besides, I know it must have been hard to part with them…seeing that they were your mother's…" Vaughn spoke softly, his voice laden with shared pain and knowledge.

Sydney looked down at her hands for a moment before nodding and looking at him again, although she was more caught in memories than seeing him before her. Wistfully, she replied, "They are. She used to read to me from them when she'd put me to bed at night." A tender smile touched her lips before she admitted brokenly, "I…I have so little left of my mother. My father was never very sentimental, but I…" her voice lowered so much that Vaughn had to lean in to hear her "…I have this box. I keep it on the top shelf of my closet, and I…take it down whenever I really miss her." Vaughn nodded somberly in understanding as she continued, "It's mostly silly trinket stuff, papers from school when I was little; but in there I keep some pictures. Pictures of when I was a kid." The tender smile was back. "Pictures of her…of me with her. Sometimes I look at them…" she sighed and paused.

"…So you can remember what she looks like again when you're afraid you're forgetting," Vaughn finished her sentence as if reading her mind.

Sydney looked up, startled. "Yes…"

Vaughn squirmed in his seat as he fished into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. Setting it on the table before him, he flipped open the front of it and stuck a finger into the vinyl pocket that held his California driver's license. Sydney watched in curious silence as Vaughn spent several moments trying to carefully wrestle something from the tight pocket behind his license. Finally, he managed to pull it free and slowly slid it across the surface of the table toward her.

It was a picture. Gingerly, Sydney picked it up to study it. It was old; probably more than twenty years old based on how the colors had faded and how dog-eared and worn the edges were. The picture was a close up but candid shot of a large, rather square-faced man in his late thirties crouching down with his arm around the waist of a little boy whose unruly sandy hair stuck up off the top of his head in several places. The boy had both arms around the man's neck in a tight embrace and both were smiling…or rather it looked as if they were laughing…as if they had just shared some private joke. Above and behind them loomed huge roller coaster tracks.

Sydney had to forcefully blink back the tears crowding out her vision. It was obvious from the twin sets of distinctive green eyes staring back at her that this was a picture of Vaughn and his father. The familial resemblance both in the picture and with the adult Vaughn was unmistakable. Looking up at Vaughn, she saw that his expression was one raw hurt, as if he were reliving the grief of his loss all over again, but yet he smiled tremulously and nodded just the tiniest bit, as if to say she was correct in her assessment. Studying the picture more closely, it was evident that Vaughn and his father were very close. The open adoration on young Vaughn's face was plain and joyful. And it was evident that the elder Vaughn held a very special place in his heart for his son as well. His face and eyes, which could have been considered closed and stern by others, fairly glowed with the strength of his love for the boy. She turned the photo over, and in a loopy, feminine script was written the faded words: Bill and Mikey, Disneyland, Summer 1976.

Vaughn's voice was suspiciously hoarse as he explained, "That was the summer before my dad…" He just couldn't force himself to say the words, so he tried again. "That was the first time I rode the roller coaster. I…I was so proud, so happy." He looked down at his hands, unable to continue.

Sydney understood that feeling…the blazing happiness of the moment, frozen in time, and the agony of what came after. Placing the picture on the table next to Vaughn's wallet, she said softly, with compassion, "He looks like a very kind man. A good man."

Vaughn nodded, and kept his head down a moment longer before meeting her eyes. "He was," he answered simply. Then he silently slid his treasured photo into its hiding place behind his license and stuck his wallet back into his pocket.

After a long moment, Vaughn cleared his throat and said, "Well, thanks…for the books," placing his right hand on the top of the stack. "I'll take good care of them. When I hear something back about the codes, I'll let you know."

Sydney nodded, stooping to zip her backpack closed once more and then stood up, pushing it up onto her left shoulder. Shoving up the sleeve on her right arm, she waited expectantly.

In his shaken state, it took Vaughn a second to realize what it was she was waiting for. Abruptly he stood and reached into a cabinet above his head. Peeling off the protective tab, he pressed a small, round, pink smiley-face bandage over a vein on the soft flesh at the inside of her elbow, leaving his thumb there for much longer than necessary to complete the job.

At just the moment when Vaughn was about to reluctantly pull his hand back from her skin, she reached out with her right hand, grasping his left arm and holding it fast just below his elbow. When he looked up at her with astonishment, she gave his arm a gentle squeeze before letting her arm drop again. Her eyes held volumes… shared knowledge and grief…things that only Sydney would understand about him. Smiling soothingly, she said, "I'll see ya," before turning and opening the door to the van, passing through it and closing the door behind her without looking back.

Long after Sydney had left, Vaughn stood immobile, lost in thought.