Goodbye To You

Spoilers: "The Confession"

Summary: Saying goodbye is often the hardest thing to do.

A/N:  These things have a life of their own, what can I say? But thanks to Skye for helping me connect it all, and as always for being a great beta.

"Alavidha" means 'goodbye' in Hindi

Disclaimer: I don't own any of them . . . but I'm open to donations of handsome CIA agents . . .

Of all the things I believe in
I just want to get it over with
tears from behind my eyes
but I do not cry
Counting the days that passed me by

Goodbye to you        
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to

"Goodbye to You" ~ Michelle Branch

The cool misty air seemed to stick to her, clinging to her arms and face like droplets of sweat. As Sydney stared down at the cold gray marble headstone, she wondered why had she come here? Coming to say goodbye to the woman she thought she had loved and mourned already. She'd come here to say goodbye to a woman who didn't exist.

Laura Bristow, Beloved wife and mother.

Coming here, she'd had it all planned out. Go to the grave, make a pretty speech about how she knew the truth but that she preferred to remember a mother who loved her, so she was saying goodbye, then lay the little white flowers on the grave and walk away forever.

But she couldn't. Coming here brought back so many memories. The funeral. The trips to her mother's grave with her father. What he must have felt, bringing his daughter to visit her mother's grave - her mother who was a spy for the KGB and had only married him to get access to CIA secrets. A woman who would give birth to his only child just to provide a cover for her mission. No wonder he was distant towards her. Every time he looked at her he must see Laura and wonder.

Sydney looked down at the flowers in her hand. They looked wilted. They looked like the way she felt on the inside. Tired and hurt. Tried of the lies she had been hurt by. She knew this was a mistake – she should have done what she had originally thought of doing. Going to see Vaughn's father to apologize for what her mother had done. But what difference would that make? He'd still be dead and no amount of white flowers was going to bring back an eight-year-old boy's father. She didn't belong there – Vaughn did.

Sydney sighed and brushed a damp lock of hair from her face. Why had she come here? Why her mother? She should just go to Danny's grave, that's what she should do. But she knew that would be harder in some ways. If she went there she'd be facing her mother and her growing feelings for someone else.  She wondered if her mother had been a normal, loving, non-spy mother, would she herself have become a spy? Would she have been happy and confident enough to ignore the SD-6 recruiter? Would she and Danny be married now? Sydney's eyes teared up at the thought of all that her mother could have stolen from her. She clenched her fist around the flower stems, her nails digging into her palms. She had to stop blaming her mother for things. She had to stop blaming other people for decisions she had made.

"Mom," she choked out. The word sounded so alien as it hung in the air, lingering. Her throat felt dry, and she swallowed hard. "Mom." The second time was just as acidic as the first. Tears stung her eyes and she bit her lip to keep from crying. She couldn't help but remember this one time when she was about six years old and her mother was teaching her how to make cookies.

"Now we add the dry ingredients to the wet," Laura said as she wiped a dusting of flour off her daughter's nose, "Not to our face."

Sydney giggled. "I wanna add the chips, Mommy."

"In a minute, Sweetie. First we have to mix the batter together." The gentle whir of the electric mixer echoed around the kitchen as Laura deftly blended the ingredients together into a smooth tan mixture. Sydney stood on a step stool and carefully emptied the bag of chocolate chips into the bowl. By the time Jack came home from 'work' the smell of freshly baked cookies hung in the air.

"Have my girls been making cookies?" he asked.

"Chocolate chip!" Sydney exclaimed.

Jack ruffled his daughter's hair. "My favorite."

"You have to eat dinner first," Laura smiled. "Both of you."

It was shortly after that that her father began working later and longer, often leaving town on 'business trips', and her parents marriage was becoming strained. There was tension between them and young Sydney was worried that they'd get divorced. Jack became distant towards both Laura and Sydney. Soon afterwards there was the accident, her mother's death. Sydney found it hard to reconcile the mother in her mind with the KGB agent that had killed over a dozen CIA agents, including Vaughn's father.  Vaughn had been eight when his father died, so Sydney estimated that it was about 1976. She would have been two.

She remembered what her father had said to her at Thanksgiving, that if he could, he would give Sydney back her mother. She knew now that he meant the mother she knew, the kind, caring, can-do-no-wrong Laura Bristow that existed only in Sydney's memories. She wondered how her father had felt when he found out. He must have further estranged himself from her for fear that she'd find out the secret and be devastated. He'd rather she'd have one 'good' parent than two dysfunctional ones.

She sighed. "Laura." God, that sounded strange, too. But how was she supposed to address this…woman who had been her mother, but wasn't. Out of habit she called her 'mom', but that was just too personal now. Sydney cleared her throat and started again.

"Mother. Laura. I know your secret. I know all about those CIA agents. I know how Dad covered for you, what it cost him. I know I should by angry with you for all that you robbed me of – my mother, a normal life, my fiancé.  But I keep remembering how," she paused as the tears threatened to come, "I keep remembering the good times. And I know that you did love me, even if it was just a little bit. I can't pretend you weren't the woman who was my mother, so I'm just going to say goodbye to her. I won't visit you again, because if I do, it'll destroy that. Goodbye, Mom."
She laid the flowers on the edge of the tombstone and walked away.

As she walked over to her car, she noticed the silence of the cemetery, of the mute tombstones. Her eyes swept over them and caught something that didn't belong. Something living.

She'd know his profile anywhere. She stepped off the path and onto the worn grass, making her way over to Vaughn, who was kneeling in front of a tombstone. His father's – she could just make it out.

"Goodbye, Dad," he whispered. Sydney hung back, not wanting to interrupt such a private moment. Vaughn stood up and turned to leave.

She knew the moment his eyes turned on her. "Hello," she said shyly.

He seemed shocked to see her, but quickly regained his poise. "Hey. Visiting your fiancé?"

"No," she said, shaking her head, "My mother."

"Oh," he smiled kind of sheepishly.

"I was saying goodbye," she told him. In a way she felt guilty for having visited Laura.

He smiled slightly again. "Saying goodbye to the past, huh?"

"Yeah, I just had to separate the mother I knew from the . . ." she could feel the tears again. "The woman who killed all those people, including your father. I'm sorry, Vaughn."

"Hey, hey, no," his voice was soft and consoling as he wiped away an errant tear that had slid down her cheek. "You have nothing to apologize for. Laura Bristow's deeds aren't yours."

"Thanks," she said, wishing that this was some other world, where her mother was a good woman, where she and Vaughn had casually met and could be having coffee right now instead of standing in a graveyard. Among the living instead of the dead.

They stood for a moment, each contemplating what might have been, until Vaughn took her hand. "There's somebody I want you to meet. Sydney Bristow, meet William Vaughn, my father."

"Hello, Mr. Vaughn," Sydney said to his silent grave. "You should be very proud of your son – he's a very good agent. And he's my guardian angel." She smiled.

"He'd like you," Vaughn told her.

A/N: I had intended to follow this up with a Vaughn piece of him talking to his father before Sydney arrives, but nothing seems right. Hopefully I'll get to write the piece I really want to – Jack saying goodbye to Laura.