Chapter 3: Grace
Spoilers: Still sort of AU from Trust Me
Vaughn trudged back to where Irina Derevko stalked her cell like an impatient tigress. "I'd like to see the prisoner," he told the guard. The man nodded and granted him access.
The stretch of walk down the hall seemed more sinister than it had before.
In her cage, Derevko waited. He watched her, a revolting fascination welling up inside. The woman was a pro in every sense of the word and that had to gather a little respect no matter how reluctant. He hated her with a passion he had thought himself incapable of yet she was also the woman who brought the one he loved into this world. A part of him did not know whether to thank her or shoot her dead. Maybe one day he could do both.
When she finally noticed his presence, she glided up to the glass to greet him.
"Hello again."
"Ms. Derevko," Vaughn said, terse. "I'll make this short: you say you have information that the CIA needs. What is it?"
She studied him. Vaughn held back the need to vomit and steeled himself. When she continued to stare at him in a manner that disintegrated his control, he said in a sharp voice "All right. You know the thing about agreeing to cooperate is that it sort of requires you to cooperate. It's a silly form of etiquette we humans have."
Finally she spoke. "Not without my daughter present."
Vaughn clenched his jaw. "Agent Bristow is currently off active duty. You will not be getting anything from her."
"Well then, you won't get a thing from me."
You bitch. "Ms. Derevko, Sydney is incredibly unguarded right now. Your presence will do nothing more than confuse and upset her. Something I would just as well like to keep her from."
Derevko lifted her chin. "I have a right to see my child."
"After what you've done to this country, I hazard that your rights may waiver somewhat," Vaughn told her, his voice harsh.
She was silent. Vaughn sighed. Contesting with the prisoner would get them nowhere. "Look. Tell me what you know. And I will do my best to…convince Sydney to see you." I really hate myself.
She stared at him, sizing up his integrity. She pushed a strand of hair from her face. "Promise?"
You promised. You promised me Vaughn.
In one horrifying moment, Vaughn thought that he was looking at Sydney instead her mother.
He swallowed. "I promise that … I will do my best."
She nodded. "All right."
When she was finished, Vaughn walked out of the holding area. He couldn't get away from her or Kendall fast enough. He loathed them both and himself even more.
When he made it outside, he breathed in the cool night air to regain his composure.
Two promises. In order to keep one he had to break the other.
I am so sorry, Sydney.
He intended to drive right by her apartment, honest to God he did. But as Vaughn drove to his own apartment after his frosty encounter with Irina Derevko, his thoughts turned to Sydney. It was only natural, right? The two were practically mirror images of one another, give or take a few years. It was impossible to think of her without also thinking of the daughter who resembled her.
Before he knew it, he was cruising down her familiar street. It occurred to him that he had never told her that he knew where she lived.
Yeah, I'm really not a stalker, he thought, humorously self-deprecating. He parked his car a safe, unseen distance away from her yard.
Then he waited. He waited all the while thinking This is crazy. You're crazy.
But crazy people couldn't help themselves. A plea of insanity alone was enough to make him stake out her complex on the off chance that she would…
Sydney emerged from the hallway. Vaughn's body gave a start when he saw her. Through the large front window, he watched as she moved about her living room. There was dullness to the way she walked as if her feet were weighed down.
Yeah, despair does that to a person. Like lead it burdens the soul. He let out a shuddery breath. She used to be so …even when it seemed that she bore the sins of the universe on her shoulders, there was still a fire in her eyes and lightness to her step. Sydney Bristow had been nothing less than a force of nature, bold and undeniable.
But these days, she was nothing more than a shade. A flicker of animation that was alive but much too dead to care. The Sydney Bristow he knew was gone and buried along with her friend. It didn't mean he loved her any less.
The room was bathed in a fluorescent orange, too bright, too harsh, and the illusion of warmth seemed to mock them both. Vaughn would never again be able to touch her warmth and Sydney no longer looked aware of it. The darkness had swallowed them both and they were lost to it.
Vaughn watched, hungry, as she sank onto the couch. To any passerby, she appeared so normal, but it was all a cover. Whether it concerned her loyalties or her grief, there had always been a mask that Sydney hid behind. SD 6, CIA, none of them knew who she was nor did they care to. The only person she dared to reveal herself to was Vaughn and he took a pleasurable honor in that. Now she was all alone with her pain and no one could possibly understand how it was killing her.
The phone rang. Sydney's head jerked up startled. It had been awhile to since she'd gotten a call. Tentatively, she picked it up. "Hello?"
"Joey's Pizza?" Vaughn said into his cell as he kept his eyes on Sydney's face. His grip tightened as his heart beat against his ribs.
There was silence on the other end. Vaughn tried to interpret the flashes of emotion on her face. Surprise, definitely. Panic, maybe. But there was one emotion…
Perhaps it was all in his attention-starved mind, but for a fraction of a second, a light shone on her face. For a minute she was Sydney again. Then it was gone.
"Sorry." She cleared her throat. "Sorry, wrong number."
"The pier," he said and hung up. He placed his hands on the steering wheel and rested his chin on it as he waited for a reaction.
She stood there, staring at the phone, at nothing. Then, with a solemn face she replaced it. It was impossible to determine what she would do as doubt and need warred upon her features.
For Vaughn, it was easy to tell when she was torn up inside. She would turn her head away and bite her lip just to hold back the tears. Her eyes used to beg him to remove the hurt and it cut him up to see her in such anguish.
Life would never be fair toward her, he decided.
But then again, life in itself was not meant to be fair.
Sydney got up and paced the room as she fought a losing battle with herself. Vaughn knew that doubt would keep her away from the meet; but need, the same need that compelled him to spy on her, would draw her to the pier.
"Don't let me down, Syd," he whispered. By some divine force he managed to tear himself away from the woman he loved. He put the car in gear and drove away.
Weiss was waiting for him back at his apartment. To Vaughn's chagrin, his friend was examining the photos of Sydney that lay on the table.
"Nice to know that after two months of not seeing her, you've started to move on," Weiss observed with his usual dry wit. Vaughn was not amused.
Vaughn threw his jacket on a chair and glared at Weiss. "Did you just come here to rag on my ass?"
"Nah. I can rag on your ass any time I want." He put a photo down and folded his hands. "Just come to see how you were doing."
"I'm fine." He did not bother to put conviction in the lie.
"Your unwholesome obsession on Sydney aside, I was talking about something else." Vaughn stayed silent. "You met with Derevko at the joint task force building tonight."
"Yeah, thanks for the head's up on that." Vaughn instantly regretted the hostility in his voice. He was directing it at the wrong person. "Ah shit, Eric. I'm sorry. I had a bad night."
Weiss shrugged. "It's ok. I can imagine that it hasn't been a fun time for you as of late. First, Sydney dumps you and then the bitch who kills your dad is back-"
"Syd did not dump me." To dump would mean that we were together in the first place.
"Right. She just told you to get lost for the hell of it."
"I told you, I promised her I would stay away." And I did do a pretty good job of doing so until tonight.
Weiss nodded. Then he frowned. "So." He cleared his throat. "Does Sydney look a lot like her mother?"
Vaughn made a sardonic sound in his throat. "So much it hurts. It was like looking at an image of her in the future." Vaughn didn't want to tell Weiss, but as he spoke to Derevko, he realized that she must have been the last thing that his father ever saw. That meant that Sydney's image was the last thing he saw.
"You ok, man? You look pale."
"I just got a chill. That's all." Weiss couldn't understand how terrifyingly blurry the line between mother and daughter had been while Vaughn was face to face with that woman. Vaughn despised himself for thinking such a thought but there was some truth to it.
Jack Bristow knew better than anybody charismatically manipulative Irina Derevko could be. He fell under her spell as easily as Vaughn fell under Sydney's.
Sydney had her mother's wiles, no doubt about that. It used to unnerve Vaughn that whenever she left on a mission she would be forced to exert her charm over some poor dupe in order to retrieve some intel or whatever. And the fact that she did it so well, with an almost carelessness, at times made him a bit jealous.
She never used her skill on him though. Probably because she knew she didn't have to. The fact that she was more real with him than anyone else was enough to seduce him.
Weiss picked a piece of sketch paper off the table. He raised an eyebrow. "Did you draw this?"
Vaughn flushed and bowed his head. "Oh. Yeah."
"Pretty good likeness of Sydney. In a manic stalker sort of way." He stared at the words on the bottom of the page. "'Between now and forever.' What's that?"
Vaughn raised his shoulders not really up to explaining. "It was something that my dad used to say to mom. I never knew what it meant though." As his mind continued to sift through the fog of nostalgia, a bittersweet smile came to his face.
"What?"
"On the anniversary of the day I met Sydney, I gave her a first edition of Grimm's Fairy Tales."
"I see you're all subtle with the schoolboy crush."
Vaughn went on. "I inscribed those words on the inside cover." The day came back to him, soft and hopeful and distant.
"Between now and forever?" Sydney asked, inquisitive.
Vaughn ducked his head down. The brightness in her eyes seemed to heighten the redness in his face. "Yeah, it's just something my parent's used to say to each other. I don't know, it sounds like a good thing to say."
Her smile understood. "Between now and forever. Sounds like a promise," she whispered.
She stood on tiptoes and Vaughn could still feel her breath and his heart and she daintily kissed his cheek…
"Sydney said it sounded like a promise," Vaughn recalled, wistful.
Weiss clicked his tongue. "Funny. It was a promise that broke you two up in the first place." Vaughn looked at him. Weiss got up and walked over to the door. "I guess it's about time for me to go. I'll see you tomorrow to discuss the op."
Vaughn watched with passive eyes as Weiss opened the door to leave. But before he did, he looked back at Vaughn.
"You know this thing you're putting yourself through because of Sydney? It has a name."
"What?"
He waited a beat. "Withdrawal." Weiss left Vaughn to reflect on that.
Withdrawal. A bitter, ironic smile came to his face. Of course how perfect. Vaughn couldn't have put it better himself.
The pier was empty when he got there. It was still cold from the after storm. In the distance, Vaughn could see the first grey hint of the sun over the waves. It would not be long until morning.
She was nowhere to be found.
He let out a frustrated sigh and continued to stare at the water. There was once a time when he found serenity in it. Now, at the brink of his sanity, he was a breath away from hurling himself into the Pacific.
When he looked at the waves all he saw was her.
Minutes passed. Hours passed. The sun rose and a faint yellow beam dawned on his bleak features. The sun did nothing to warm him.
She wasn't coming.
He wanted to wait a little bit longer but common sense told him it would be futile. She would've been here by now.
Morning came and taunted his mood. It was all dark to him. Cursing himself for the fool he was, he turned and left the pier.
Sydney observed Vaughn as he left the railing, miserable and obviously hurt because of her.
I called him all those times and he always came running. But the one time he does it…I stand him up.
"I'm sorry Vaughn," she whispered as she watched him walk away. She emerged from the crates that she hid behind, feeling like she had stabbed herself with her own knife.
She waited until he was out of sight then moved to the spot where he stood. Early dawn illuminated the clear trail of tears on her face.
"I just can't. Not yet."