A/N: Here it is! Two in one day! Don't you feel special? Now, say hello to Stan...
Chapter Five
Nancy's Flowers
She slit her eyes reluctantly ajar as a commotion at her door jolted her out of the most pleasant sleep she'd had lately; someone apparently was having trouble opening it and was now preparing to knock it down. It finally swung in violently to admit yet another visitor: a bouquet of flowers. Two legs appeared below the basket, but the deliveryman's face was hidden behind the elaborate design as it bobbed across her room to the bedside table, the smell of lavender, roses, and snapdragons saturating the room with perfumes from the outside world. She hadn't realized how much she missed her home until the aroma reminded her that there was an existence beyond the sharp, white lines of the hospital, and a foolish tear threatened to spill over.
She turned her attention to the flowers to distract her from her sudden homesickness, but they seemed too far away to make the attempt to reach for them. Still, her curiosity was eating at her, and she felt she owed the person who had sent them the courtesy of finding out his name. "Could you read me the card, please?" she inquired wearily, hoping the man wouldn't take the comment as too demanding.
"I don't know," a familiar voice said as he set the flowers down with a clunk. "I don't think I signed it."
"What are you doing here?" she snarled, sitting up in a way that made the room move in unnerving ways. But it was hard to stay mad when she was on the verge of hysterical laughter; he looked absolutely ridiculous. He was dressed in a navy and red uniform with the name Stan printed in bold black letters on a white badge, under the words Nancy's Flowers embroidered in flowing cursive.
Vaughn shrugged, though he didn't quite meet her eyes, "I figured I should come see you and-this-was the best way I could think of." She felt a little heart sore at this complicated hoax, despite the good intentions, because she wished that he, of all people, could simply walk through her door, sit down and hold her hand like all the rest.
She nodded to the chair closest to him, and he took a seat, glancing nervously around. "No cameras," she assured him. "We took care of that." She didn't specify whom 'we' meant, and he was considerate enough not to ask.
He settled back into cushion then, a little more at ease. "You look a lot better than the last time I saw you."
"Um, thanks?"
He looked suitably embarrassed, understanding his choice of opening remarks had not been the best to make. "I mean, you look good today...Not that you don't always look good...Um, yeah. So, how are you feeling?"
"I should be released tomorrow," she commented evasively as her eyes guiltily darted past his, hoping he wouldn't notice.
"The doctor said this?"
"Well, not in so many words, no. But I'm sure he'll agree with me, I can be very persuasive. Plus I feel fine."
"Mmm-hmm."
"I do!" she protested, feeling like some child insisting that she would be all right while playing in traffic.
"Fine? Are you really sure? Two broken ribs, a fractured wrist, countless other things, and that's fine?" She got an odd shiver of pleasure from the fact that he had taken enough interest to find out what her injuries had been.
"Nothing that won't heal, given time." At least physically. Mentally, emotionally, she'd had a few too many blows, not the least of which was her self-confidence. She had let herself be attacked and beaten, no one but her to blame. What good was she if she couldn't believe in herself anymore, when she was the only one she could count on during her missions? Who else would believe in her?
He would.
The thought hit her, and she looked straight up into his eyes, watched his brow wrinkle in that well-known way as his confusion grew. He would believe in her. Her father would believe, Will and Francie would believe, even Arvin Sloane in his twisted way had complete faith in her. They had never given up on Sydney Bristow, even when she had.
And there it was, her reason, she remembered now; it had never been far away, only as far as she pushed it. She did it for them, for the people she cared about, for the innocents, for the old friends who still sent her Christmas cards with pictures of their happy families, for the strangers who smiled at her on the street. Not so hard to find if she had only thought to look.
But that wasn't enough. There was something else she needed before she could face that life again. What else could she need to do?
Give in.
Her mother's words came back to her; it might not have been what Irina meant, but it certainly fit the situation. Give in, let go. Stop being afraid to lose herself in it once in awhile, she would be among good company.
Vaughn's bewilderment only intensified in the continued silence and he cleared his throat, "Sydney? Are you tired? Maybe I should go..."
"No, no, stay." She stretched her arm across the coverlet to reach out to him, palm up, fingers slightly curled. He hesitated only a moment before he took her hand in his own. She closed her eyes blissfully, warmth spreading form the point where they touched. "You're good for me, you know that?"
And this time she didn't have to pretend, she truly fell asleep.
Chapter Five
Nancy's Flowers
She slit her eyes reluctantly ajar as a commotion at her door jolted her out of the most pleasant sleep she'd had lately; someone apparently was having trouble opening it and was now preparing to knock it down. It finally swung in violently to admit yet another visitor: a bouquet of flowers. Two legs appeared below the basket, but the deliveryman's face was hidden behind the elaborate design as it bobbed across her room to the bedside table, the smell of lavender, roses, and snapdragons saturating the room with perfumes from the outside world. She hadn't realized how much she missed her home until the aroma reminded her that there was an existence beyond the sharp, white lines of the hospital, and a foolish tear threatened to spill over.
She turned her attention to the flowers to distract her from her sudden homesickness, but they seemed too far away to make the attempt to reach for them. Still, her curiosity was eating at her, and she felt she owed the person who had sent them the courtesy of finding out his name. "Could you read me the card, please?" she inquired wearily, hoping the man wouldn't take the comment as too demanding.
"I don't know," a familiar voice said as he set the flowers down with a clunk. "I don't think I signed it."
"What are you doing here?" she snarled, sitting up in a way that made the room move in unnerving ways. But it was hard to stay mad when she was on the verge of hysterical laughter; he looked absolutely ridiculous. He was dressed in a navy and red uniform with the name Stan printed in bold black letters on a white badge, under the words Nancy's Flowers embroidered in flowing cursive.
Vaughn shrugged, though he didn't quite meet her eyes, "I figured I should come see you and-this-was the best way I could think of." She felt a little heart sore at this complicated hoax, despite the good intentions, because she wished that he, of all people, could simply walk through her door, sit down and hold her hand like all the rest.
She nodded to the chair closest to him, and he took a seat, glancing nervously around. "No cameras," she assured him. "We took care of that." She didn't specify whom 'we' meant, and he was considerate enough not to ask.
He settled back into cushion then, a little more at ease. "You look a lot better than the last time I saw you."
"Um, thanks?"
He looked suitably embarrassed, understanding his choice of opening remarks had not been the best to make. "I mean, you look good today...Not that you don't always look good...Um, yeah. So, how are you feeling?"
"I should be released tomorrow," she commented evasively as her eyes guiltily darted past his, hoping he wouldn't notice.
"The doctor said this?"
"Well, not in so many words, no. But I'm sure he'll agree with me, I can be very persuasive. Plus I feel fine."
"Mmm-hmm."
"I do!" she protested, feeling like some child insisting that she would be all right while playing in traffic.
"Fine? Are you really sure? Two broken ribs, a fractured wrist, countless other things, and that's fine?" She got an odd shiver of pleasure from the fact that he had taken enough interest to find out what her injuries had been.
"Nothing that won't heal, given time." At least physically. Mentally, emotionally, she'd had a few too many blows, not the least of which was her self-confidence. She had let herself be attacked and beaten, no one but her to blame. What good was she if she couldn't believe in herself anymore, when she was the only one she could count on during her missions? Who else would believe in her?
He would.
The thought hit her, and she looked straight up into his eyes, watched his brow wrinkle in that well-known way as his confusion grew. He would believe in her. Her father would believe, Will and Francie would believe, even Arvin Sloane in his twisted way had complete faith in her. They had never given up on Sydney Bristow, even when she had.
And there it was, her reason, she remembered now; it had never been far away, only as far as she pushed it. She did it for them, for the people she cared about, for the innocents, for the old friends who still sent her Christmas cards with pictures of their happy families, for the strangers who smiled at her on the street. Not so hard to find if she had only thought to look.
But that wasn't enough. There was something else she needed before she could face that life again. What else could she need to do?
Give in.
Her mother's words came back to her; it might not have been what Irina meant, but it certainly fit the situation. Give in, let go. Stop being afraid to lose herself in it once in awhile, she would be among good company.
Vaughn's bewilderment only intensified in the continued silence and he cleared his throat, "Sydney? Are you tired? Maybe I should go..."
"No, no, stay." She stretched her arm across the coverlet to reach out to him, palm up, fingers slightly curled. He hesitated only a moment before he took her hand in his own. She closed her eyes blissfully, warmth spreading form the point where they touched. "You're good for me, you know that?"
And this time she didn't have to pretend, she truly fell asleep.