A/N: I'm sooooo sorry it took this long!!!! Merry belated X-Mas newayz! lol. Sorry again!

Part Six~ "Cold as Ice"

"If I was never born... If I didn't exist... what would've happened to Vaughn?"

Kate is silent.

"Ok..." I say quietly. "Then show me. Please, just show me what happened to him."

"Sydney... you've seen what's happened to the people in your life when they didn't have you. SD-6 is undefinable. Dixon is cold and callus. Marshall has lost his fun-loving nature. Francie's living at home with a cheating, lying jerk. Will's a drug addict who lived on the street for a month. Your mother is dead and your father is in a mental institution. Your fiance died without ever having been in love," she remind me, miraculously doing so in one breath.

"Thank you," I snap. "I know."

"Then why do you need to see him? If it's not already obvious how needed you are in this world, then maybe you were right and you should just give up."

"No, it's not that, it's just..." I don't want to tell her the truth.

"He means a lot to you." She knows anyway. Hell, who doesn't?

I nod. "I just need to see him."

"This is not a good idea. You really, really do not want to see this," Kate warns.

"It's not a matter of want. It's a matter of need. I need to see what's happened to him."

"Sydney... you've seen some pretty bad things so far. What's happened to your friends and family... it's all been awful. But I promise you, none of them compare to what's happened to him. I don't think it's something you can handle."

My stomach drops. My heart rises to my throat. "Kate... I'm going to find him with or without your help. I have to know."

She frowns, a desperate glint in her eye, before answering. "Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you."

I wonder what we'll see. What has happened to Vaughn? My pulse is racing and I'm imagining all kinds of horrible scenarios.

A moment flashes by and we're outside a large brick house at night. Red bricks, navy blue shutters. Little columns of smoke rise from the chimney, suggesting a warm fire within the house.

In the dark night, the multicolored bulbs flash along the roof and windows, illuminating the air. A glowing yellow light shines out through one of the windows. I look inside, and there he is.

The bright lights gleaming all around don't hold a candle to the dazzling smile that makes his face shimmer as though it's a light itself.

He sits cross- legged on the cream carpet, laughing as a little boy crawls onto his lap. I walk up closer to the window and touch my hand softly to the glass. "Vaughn..." I whisper.

"Do you want to see better?" Kate asks and I nod.

We're inside the house and I can see the child clearly now.

He is about six. Golden blond hair covers his head and is a little messy. There is a tiny dimple in the center of his chin, and large, bright green eyes glitter with delight as Vaughn, undoubtedly his father, tickles his stomach.

I feel myself smiling with him.

Then I hear a voice sound from another room. "How's little Shawn doing?"

A blonde woman belonging to the voice enters. I know that face and that soft airy voice. Alice.

"He's great."

I watch as she lifts Shawn into her arms and twirls him around as he gasps, grinning and clapping his hands. She sets him softly down on a couch and turns to Vaughn, who stands up and takes her hand.

She leads him to a spot in the room and points up. Mistletoe.

My eyes water as they kiss, and the truth sinks in.

This is what Kate hadn't wanted me to see. This is what she had meant when she said I couldn't handle it.

Vaughn is happy. He is blissfully and wonderfully happy.

Without me.

I realize that I don't know what I had wanted. I hadn't wanted to see him living a lonely, miserable life. The last thing I wanted was for him to be in pain. I care about him too much for that.

But the fact that he was happy because I didn't exist....

I guess I've been kidding myself in thinking that he needed me as much as I need him.

"Kate? Thank you for showing me this. I know what I want to do now. I can't go back. If Vaughn is this happy without me... what I once said still stands. He's an amazing guy. He deserves all the happiness he can get."

"You saw what happened to everyone; all your friends and your family. SD-6 will undoubtedly achieve their domination goal this way. You would put Vaughn's happiness ahead of all that?"

I don't answer. She's right. What do I want? Do I want my friends and family to be happy? Or Vaughn?

Kate speaks again after the silence. "You love him that much?"

Again, I don't know how to answer. I hadn't expected that, but I can't argue.

Lead again by my lack of answer, she places a hand on my shoulder. "Then you deserve the truth."

I turn to face her, knowing there's a surprised look on my face.

We leave off with a comment from Kate ringing in my ears. "Things aren't always as they appear..."

I find myself in the CIA building, in an office. "This is where he went after putting Shawn to bed that night," Kate tells me.

I see Vaughn sitting at a desk, tapping a pencil against a computer printed paper.

"Vaughn!" a voice demands.

Vaughn snaps his head up and with lightening speed sits up straight. "Yes, Mr. Haladki?" he says to the rat-like man who enters a moment later.

"Are you finished that report yet?"

"Almost, Mr. Haladki," Vaughn answers, a strained politeness in his voice.

Halakdi frowns. "'Almost' doesn't cut it. Now get to work before I lower your wages again. And you're staying here until you finish that, I don't care if it's Christmas Eve. So you'd better move fast."

"ass," Vaughn mutters as Haladki leaves the room. I can't believe that jerk is above Vaughn. Vaughn is attending to his every whim like some kind of servant.

When he's sure "Mr. Haladki" is gone, he sighs, rubs his forehead, and gets up. There's a stride in his walk, like he's finally about to do something he's been trying to work up the courage to do. I follow him down the hall and into Devlin's office.

"Mr. Devlin, I want to train to be a field agent," he announces in a clear, unwavering voice.

Devlin just stares.

"Please, Sir. I know I can do it. I have athletic experience, I'm advanced at all the required thinking skills, and I'm pretty decent at linguistics. I was already speaking English, French, and Italian by the age of 10. Sir, with all due respect, I know my duty to this country would be best served in the field, not behind a desk filing reports for Steven Haladki."

Whew. Good job, Vaughn.

Devlin stares for another minute, and I swear I think his bottom jaw is going to detach itself. Finally, he manages a quick "Okay."

Good for you, Vaughn.

"He has a great life," I tell Kate. "Sure, he was miserable under the control of that weasel for a while but he just worked himself out of it and now he's going to get the status he deserves.

"I'll admit to you," Kate begins, "that he becomes a successful and respected field agent. He wins the reputation of one of the best in the field and that doesn't make him too upset. But let's go back to his home later that night to have another look, shall we?"

And now we're in the merrily festive Vaughn home again, but this time Shawn isn't there and the living room light is out. The fireplace is dark and black except for a few dimly glowing embers, remnants of the fire that had blazed only a few hours before.

We head into the one room where a light remains on. The kitchen.

Two familiar voices speak softly but sharply, signs of a heated argument.

"We shouldn't be arguing like this on Christmas Eve. Let's just forget it," he suggests.

She protests. "We can't just forget it. This arguing never ends. It's constant, and it's been constant since day one!"

"You know, I regret that day one ever happened!"

"Mike... this just isn't working."

"Wow, that's a brilliant observation, Alice. Anything else you'd like to point out that I haven't realized already?"

"I don't know, but from the way you've been acting since you got home from work, there is. Is there anything about work tonight that will inspire me to make a point?"

He sighs. "I made a request to Devlin for field agent training and it was granted, okay?"

"Field agent!" she gasps. "You cannot do this, Mike! So you're home even less and I have more to worry about? Plus, we were thinking of having kids," Alice points out.

Only thinking about it? What about Shawn?

Alice continues. "Having a father who's a field agent for the CIA is no way for a child to grow up!"

"And neither is having parents who are obviously not in love!" Vaughn shoots back, then quiets down at seeing the hurt expression on Alice's face. "Look, Alice, I'm sorry. But being married to you has made me realize that. You know it too. And Anya's son being here for the weekend has made me realize that having kids with you may not be the best idea."

"Now you're going to bring Shawn into this? Your twin sister's son? Mike, we've never taken care of a kid together before. Anya left Shawn in our care for one weekend. You can't expect us to be expert parents already."

"Alice... I just have to be alone right now." And he left. Just like that.

So Shawn is his twin sister Anya's son. I didn't even know he had a twin sister named Anya. It's amazing, the things I don't know about him. In any case, Shawn isn't his.

Things aren't always as they appear.

"They never do have kids, you know," Kate tells me. "They have a messy divorce six months from now. The arguments never end, though, and both were sent into depression. That could've been a result of the fact that they remained alone and neither experienced real love."

"Bu..." I'm struck speechless, letting this information seep through me. Then curiosity takes over. "How do you know all this? And why do you keep referring to this like it's the past?" I gesture to the room around me and Alice sitting with her head in her hands at the kitchen table. "Do angels know the future?"

Kate shoots her gaze downward. "No... not exactly."

"Then how?"

She takes a deep breath. "I was going to give it one last shot for you to come around before I showed you what... what happened. But I guess him just having the normal problems that tons of people experience isn't enough to convince you. What you just saw, Sydney, what you're seeing... this is last year. This is Christmas 2001."

"Show me Christmas of 2002, then," I press.

"Alright just... be ready."

We arrive again at the CIA building. We're in Devlin's office. Vaughn is here, standing straight and listening intently to what Devlin is saying.

"'The Snowman,' if you recall, has been on the list of most wanted for years and was presumed dead in '95. Last year we uncovered his identity, Noah Hicks, and sent in a team of 10 agents to bring him into custody. They never returned."

I suddenly feel completely immobile.

"However," Devlin continues, "we've discovered his location again and we feel that we can catch him by surprise on Christmas Eve. Plus, he'll be expecting another team, not just one."

I stand frozen, unable to think. Snowman, Noah Hicks. They say he earned his nick name because he liked to use ice picks to kill, but since my... encounters with him last year, I've determined the true significance of the name. The mention of it can make your blood freeze and run cold as snow.

I snap out of my thoughts because Vaughn is speaking. "Take him by surprise on Christmas Eve? With all due respect, don't you think that's a little George Washington, Sir?"

Devlin shrugs. "Well, a bit. But this isn't 1776 anymore. You're certainly not a freezing solider in the Delaware River. You're one of the best agents in the field and I have confidence in your ability."

Vaughn sighs. "Alright. Thank you, Sir."

"Your plane leaves tonight. Six PM."

Kate points to a clock on the wall. 3:00. She twirls her finger in a circle and suddenly, the hands race around the face of the clock insanely as if someone has hit a fast forward button. They hit 11:00 PM and I am suddenly in a long, dark hallway. Without Kate.

I hear footsteps, quick and echoing. A figure runs past me swiftly and I almost don't recognize it. But my heart can sense it. It's Vaughn.

I follow him. He enters a small room. It is dark and smells of rusted metal. In the center of the room is a silver dentist office style chair. Leather straps hang from it and swing slightly as he rushes in.

He holds up his gun and turns all around the room, searching for threats.

Enter Noah. He calmly strides in through a wooden door on the other side of the room, notices Vaughn, and twists a corner of his mouth into a wickedly crooked smile. He nods slightly.

Vaughn doesn't even waver, just holds the gun up threateningly. "Noah Hicks?"

I can hear the blood pumping through my ears.

Vaughn shoots before Noah has the chance to answer, a deafening blast that echoes throughout the cement room. The bullet hits his leg and he falls, clutching where the bullet wound should have been. Only I see more clearly than Vaughn, and I see that there is no wound.

Noah has protected himself under a suit of metal, undetected under his black pants and turtleneck. He must have been warned that an agent was coming. Someone leaked to him, but I can't think about that right now. All I can think about is Vaughn.

As Vaughn approaches him and pulls out a set of hand cuffs, Noah is still pretending to cover the hole. He is moaning with artificial pain. I want to stop Vaughn. I want to warn him. I want to save him like he always saves me, but I know I can't.

Still, the weak, frail word slips from my mouth and dies with the dust floating through the air. "Vaughn..."

It all happens so incredibly fast. I watch in terror as Noah grabs the gun from him, shoots him in both thighs, and in the seconds following forces him into the chair and locks him into the thick leather straps.

"Wait there and don't move," Noah orders coldly.

Vaughn couldn't go anywhere if he tried. His legs are bleeding horribly, the rust red staining the cold gray floor. He is gasping for breath, his eyes watering and teeth gritting in pain.

I'm too petrified to do anything. It's as though I'm paralyzed.

Finally, I manage to find my voice amidst my terror and speak. "Vaughn...? I'm so sorry! I... oh my God. I'm going to fix this, I swear! Just hang in there! Once I figure out how to make things right again I will! Oh, God, Vaughn!"

I step closer to his wounded form and wish I could do something, anything to comfort him. I place a hand on his sweating cheek but just as it had with Francie, it floats through.

There is a sudden slam and Noah returns, an ice pick in hand.

Vaughn's eyes widen. He knows what is coming and so do I.

First, he sloppily winds what appear to be bloody and soiled used rags around Vaughn's leg wounds. Vaughn winces. We know what Noah is doing. He wants Vaughn alive for a while longer. Suffering, but alive. He can't let him bleed to death before he's had his fun.

I clench my hands into fists, my fingernails digging into my palms. It stings, but I don't care.

Noah sets to work on Vaughn with the ice pick. I don't know exactly what he is doing but I don't need to. Everything is blocked out. I notice nothing, hear nothing, see nothing except Vaughn's ear splitting cries and the blood dripping to the floor.

I can see the blood, feel it, smell it.

His screams are so loud, so tortured.

So loud....

Danny. Bathroom. Message. Tub. Blood.

Will. Taipei. Newspaper. Dentistry. Blood.

Noah. Kitchen. Snowman. Knife. Blood.

Vaughn. Here. Now. Noah. Ice Pick. Blood.

Everywhere.

I feel myself shaking uncontrollably. I am sobbing and screaming hysterically.

I'm yelling words now too, jumbled phrases. I don't know what I'm saying. The image before me is destroying my sense of anything.

Finally, I gather up all the strength I can muster and scream out, "I UNDERSTAND NOW! I WANT TO LIVE AGAIN! I WANT EVERYTHING BACK THE WAY IT WAS! I JUST WANT TO EXIST AGAIN!"

All goes dark, and now there is silence.

A/N: Please review! I'll have the last chap up ASAP. Oh, and to my readers of "Lost in Time": Didn't you love Anya's cameo? lol.