The Way of Seeming
I own nothing. All character's belong to someone with much more money
than me.
Author's note: REVIEWS!!!! In honor of the three reviews I received yesterday
(It made me so happy!!! Thanks Guys!!! ?) I have decided to forego doing my Spanish
oral project, my APA style paper for psych, and the research paper on the Brooklyn
Bridge I received today and update once again.
And still- To all my friends out there reading this: You are in college and
therefore you should be capable of clicking a button. If not, seek me out for further
instructions.
Don't forget to review. They make me happy. :)
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Easy. Easy." Francie and Will carefully helped Sydney out of the car and up the
path to the door.
"You ok?"
"I'm fine. And I am capable of walking on my own you know."
Francie shook her head. "No chance in hell."
Sydney sighed and went along with their slow progress towards the house.
When they finally got into the house they led her into the living room and put her
on the couch.
Francie handed her the remote. "Now sit there and don't move."
Sydney let out a long suffering sigh and relaxed back into the couch, turning the
TV on and flipping through the channels.
Will came back with her bag and tossed it into her room before carefully sitting
down next to her.
"I'm not a china doll you know," she leaned in closer to him, "I've been through
worse. I could probably take down a guy twice my size right now."
Will shook his head, smiling. "Well then I guess I don't have to baby you."
He reached over and grabbed the remote out of her hand.
"You give that back NOW Will!"
At Francie's yell Will jumped and tossed the remote back to Sydney.
Sydney couldn't stop laughing.
Suddenly she couldn't breathe. All silliness dropped as she tried to take deep
breaths as the pain in her ribs was suddenly unbearable.
"Sydney? Sydney! Are you ok?"
A dim voice cut through the lights flashing in front of her eyes, the hand on her
arm bringing her back.
"Sorry," she whispered, still trying to breath, "Pain killers just wore off."
"Oh honey."
"Whatever you do don't touch me."
A startled hand pulled back as Sydney slowly stood up. "I'm going to bed. By
myself. Goodnight."
With that Sydney walked away, leaving her friends in confusion behind her.
She shut the door behind her, only then letting the tears leave her eyes. She could
almost feel the drugs in her system, breaking down quickly without the painkillers
to sustain them.
Everything was spinning, changing colors, glowing. Any blissful feelings were
washed away by the total and complete terror that she felt knowing what was going to
come next.
The feeling of your bones being pulled through your skin, your blood on fire, and
the nightmares, the horrible nightmares.
Sydney carefully and slowly sunk to the floor, unable to stop the sobs that
escaped.
All she could hear was her father, the terror in his voice when he'd found her
collapsed on the floor of her bedroom. "Sydney? Sydney?!" His hands pulling her into
his lap. "My god Sydney, what have you done?" The sound of flesh on metal as he
picked up the gun. "Where did you find this? Sydney, what were you trying to do?! Oh
God."
She remembered the ambulance, the voices of the paramedics. And then the
hospital. She'd spent two days in the detox wing before her father had taken her out. She
hadn't let go of his arm for three hours. She had been terrified. Everything was spinning,
the walls were moving, the lamp kept talking to her.
She was jolted back to the present by a knock on the door behind her.
"Syd? Do you want some breakfast?"
"What?" she muttered. She looked over at the window, daylight. She'd spent all
night on the floor.
"Yeah. Just a minute." She stood up, finally realizing that she was still wearing
her outfit from Taipei. She hadn't let anyone convince her to change. She felt closer to
Vaughn wearing it. But she didn't need that now. Vaughn was fine.
She carefully changed into some loose pajama pants, yellow with little ducks on
them, and a half tank top, keep everything away from her ribs.
She took a deep breath, slipped her feet into her slippers, and walked out to face
Francie.
So what do you think? Is Vaughn ok? Is he hiding out somewhere to escape Devlin's
wrath for violating orders? Or is he dead? Is he some mutilated corpse lost in the story of
the world (or my world at least)? Leave me a review and tell me your thoughts.
(sneaky way to get reviews huh? bargaining with the life of a gorgeous man. [insert
maniacal laughter here])
I own nothing. All character's belong to someone with much more money
than me.
Author's note: REVIEWS!!!! In honor of the three reviews I received yesterday
(It made me so happy!!! Thanks Guys!!! ?) I have decided to forego doing my Spanish
oral project, my APA style paper for psych, and the research paper on the Brooklyn
Bridge I received today and update once again.
And still- To all my friends out there reading this: You are in college and
therefore you should be capable of clicking a button. If not, seek me out for further
instructions.
Don't forget to review. They make me happy. :)
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Easy. Easy." Francie and Will carefully helped Sydney out of the car and up the
path to the door.
"You ok?"
"I'm fine. And I am capable of walking on my own you know."
Francie shook her head. "No chance in hell."
Sydney sighed and went along with their slow progress towards the house.
When they finally got into the house they led her into the living room and put her
on the couch.
Francie handed her the remote. "Now sit there and don't move."
Sydney let out a long suffering sigh and relaxed back into the couch, turning the
TV on and flipping through the channels.
Will came back with her bag and tossed it into her room before carefully sitting
down next to her.
"I'm not a china doll you know," she leaned in closer to him, "I've been through
worse. I could probably take down a guy twice my size right now."
Will shook his head, smiling. "Well then I guess I don't have to baby you."
He reached over and grabbed the remote out of her hand.
"You give that back NOW Will!"
At Francie's yell Will jumped and tossed the remote back to Sydney.
Sydney couldn't stop laughing.
Suddenly she couldn't breathe. All silliness dropped as she tried to take deep
breaths as the pain in her ribs was suddenly unbearable.
"Sydney? Sydney! Are you ok?"
A dim voice cut through the lights flashing in front of her eyes, the hand on her
arm bringing her back.
"Sorry," she whispered, still trying to breath, "Pain killers just wore off."
"Oh honey."
"Whatever you do don't touch me."
A startled hand pulled back as Sydney slowly stood up. "I'm going to bed. By
myself. Goodnight."
With that Sydney walked away, leaving her friends in confusion behind her.
She shut the door behind her, only then letting the tears leave her eyes. She could
almost feel the drugs in her system, breaking down quickly without the painkillers
to sustain them.
Everything was spinning, changing colors, glowing. Any blissful feelings were
washed away by the total and complete terror that she felt knowing what was going to
come next.
The feeling of your bones being pulled through your skin, your blood on fire, and
the nightmares, the horrible nightmares.
Sydney carefully and slowly sunk to the floor, unable to stop the sobs that
escaped.
All she could hear was her father, the terror in his voice when he'd found her
collapsed on the floor of her bedroom. "Sydney? Sydney?!" His hands pulling her into
his lap. "My god Sydney, what have you done?" The sound of flesh on metal as he
picked up the gun. "Where did you find this? Sydney, what were you trying to do?! Oh
God."
She remembered the ambulance, the voices of the paramedics. And then the
hospital. She'd spent two days in the detox wing before her father had taken her out. She
hadn't let go of his arm for three hours. She had been terrified. Everything was spinning,
the walls were moving, the lamp kept talking to her.
She was jolted back to the present by a knock on the door behind her.
"Syd? Do you want some breakfast?"
"What?" she muttered. She looked over at the window, daylight. She'd spent all
night on the floor.
"Yeah. Just a minute." She stood up, finally realizing that she was still wearing
her outfit from Taipei. She hadn't let anyone convince her to change. She felt closer to
Vaughn wearing it. But she didn't need that now. Vaughn was fine.
She carefully changed into some loose pajama pants, yellow with little ducks on
them, and a half tank top, keep everything away from her ribs.
She took a deep breath, slipped her feet into her slippers, and walked out to face
Francie.
So what do you think? Is Vaughn ok? Is he hiding out somewhere to escape Devlin's
wrath for violating orders? Or is he dead? Is he some mutilated corpse lost in the story of
the world (or my world at least)? Leave me a review and tell me your thoughts.
(sneaky way to get reviews huh? bargaining with the life of a gorgeous man. [insert
maniacal laughter here])