A/N: Close to the end now, I think this is the second to last part! You
find out what's wrong with Syd, and I hope you guys like it :) Here it is!
Sydney felt herself falling again. She had thrown herself off the ledge, down toward the bottom of the pit. Why? Why couldn't she let him help her? He cared, he genuinely cared about her. But she couldn't bring herself to trust him. She couldn't. She could trust no one. And so she had jumped.
Now she was alone again. Always alone. She knew she had to make a choice. Either she would suffer eternally, falling forever toward the knife she would never reach, or she could let down her defenses, let him help her. All she had to do was trust him. Trust him. Would it be that hard? It shouldn't be. And yet, she had built up the wall around her so high she didn't know if it could come down. But she had to try. Taking a deep breath, she reached out her hands and grabbed his.
Vaughn started as she reached out suddenly and grabbed his hands. Her grip was stronger this time, giving him hope.
"Syd?" he whispered. She slowly raised her head and looked at him with terrified eyes. Actually looked at him. He felt relief course through him. She wasn't gone yet.
But then she looked down again. Letting go of Vaughn's hands, she held her own up in front of her.
"Look at my hands, Vaughn," she whispered. "Do you see them? Can you see it?"
"See what?" He asked softly.
"The blood," she spat. "The blood of a thousand people. The blood I spilt."
"Sydney-"
"How can you touch me?" she whispered harshly. "How can you touch a... a... a murderer." She dropped her hands to the floor with a SMACK.
"Sydney, stop," Vaughn broke in, trying to make her see reason.
"But it's true, isn't it?" she whispered bitterly. "My work isn't about bringing justice to Danny's killer. It isn't even about revenge anymore. It's about the people I injure, maim, kill."
"Just wait-"
"And the worst part is, I enjoy it! Every time I hurt someone, I can't help but feel triumph. I've gained victory over the enemy. I have one less opponent in the world. Every time I spill someone's blood, every time they fall lifeless to the floor, I am responsible, and I'm not sorry for what I've done! They deserve it!" She was shaking again, terrified at what she was saying yet unable to stop.
"It's not them, the poor, innocent souls, who deserve it, though. If anyone does, it's their employers. But we count victories on how many assets we can kill. We send our slaves against theirs, think of them as numbers, don't think of them as people. If one dies, we just replace them with another. And I am responsible for those deaths! I'm a murderer, Vaughn, a heartless, cruel, unfeeling murderer!"
"Sydney, stop this-"
"No! I-"
"Sydney!" Vaughn practically screamed. He had to stop this self-guilt before it killed her. He looked at her, and saw her eyes were filled with fear. He realized what she had done. She had bared her soul to him, told him everything. She was vulnerable now. He could either help her or hurt her horribly. And he saw, in her eyes, that she wasn't positive he would help her. She didn't completely trust him. Well, he would show her she could trust him. He gently grasped her hands, holding them tight.
"Sydney, listen to me. Look at me. I am touching you. I don't call you a murderer. Neither does your father, or Will, or Dixon. I'm not repulsed by you, I'm not afraid to come near you. You could kill me in an instant, I know that, but do you see me backing away? No, Syd. Why? Because you're not a ruthless killer. You don't go around killing for fun. If you did, I wouldn't be here with you. But I am, because you're a compassionate, smart, strong woman, not a cold-blooded killer."
She was shaking slightly, perhaps because he hadn't abused her trust. God, did she really trust no one? Was she that suspicious of everyone? No wonder she was in such bad shape. But he thought he was getting to her. She seemed to be listening. He could only hope he was reaching her.
"Syd, think of the people you kill. Who are they? They are not innocent civilians. They are hired to kill. They know what they're doing and they know what might happen to them. They know there's a good chance they'll die. You know, every time you go on a mission, that you might not come back. We are brought into this life knowing what might happen. But think of what would happen if you didn't do what you do. Certain people in this world, power hungry people, would do anything they could to get what they wanted, and if you weren't there, they would succeed. And what would the price be? Civilian lives. Countless civilian lives. You may kill, Sydney, but the people you kill are trained to die. By killing, you are saving countless other lives."
Sydney was silent for a long time. Vaughn didn't pressure her, let her think it over. He hoped she could get out. He hoped she would forgive herself, not blame herself so harshly, but Sydney was so hard on herself. She thought she needed to be perfect. She needed to see that she didn't have to be.
TBC... please R/R
Sydney felt herself falling again. She had thrown herself off the ledge, down toward the bottom of the pit. Why? Why couldn't she let him help her? He cared, he genuinely cared about her. But she couldn't bring herself to trust him. She couldn't. She could trust no one. And so she had jumped.
Now she was alone again. Always alone. She knew she had to make a choice. Either she would suffer eternally, falling forever toward the knife she would never reach, or she could let down her defenses, let him help her. All she had to do was trust him. Trust him. Would it be that hard? It shouldn't be. And yet, she had built up the wall around her so high she didn't know if it could come down. But she had to try. Taking a deep breath, she reached out her hands and grabbed his.
Vaughn started as she reached out suddenly and grabbed his hands. Her grip was stronger this time, giving him hope.
"Syd?" he whispered. She slowly raised her head and looked at him with terrified eyes. Actually looked at him. He felt relief course through him. She wasn't gone yet.
But then she looked down again. Letting go of Vaughn's hands, she held her own up in front of her.
"Look at my hands, Vaughn," she whispered. "Do you see them? Can you see it?"
"See what?" He asked softly.
"The blood," she spat. "The blood of a thousand people. The blood I spilt."
"Sydney-"
"How can you touch me?" she whispered harshly. "How can you touch a... a... a murderer." She dropped her hands to the floor with a SMACK.
"Sydney, stop," Vaughn broke in, trying to make her see reason.
"But it's true, isn't it?" she whispered bitterly. "My work isn't about bringing justice to Danny's killer. It isn't even about revenge anymore. It's about the people I injure, maim, kill."
"Just wait-"
"And the worst part is, I enjoy it! Every time I hurt someone, I can't help but feel triumph. I've gained victory over the enemy. I have one less opponent in the world. Every time I spill someone's blood, every time they fall lifeless to the floor, I am responsible, and I'm not sorry for what I've done! They deserve it!" She was shaking again, terrified at what she was saying yet unable to stop.
"It's not them, the poor, innocent souls, who deserve it, though. If anyone does, it's their employers. But we count victories on how many assets we can kill. We send our slaves against theirs, think of them as numbers, don't think of them as people. If one dies, we just replace them with another. And I am responsible for those deaths! I'm a murderer, Vaughn, a heartless, cruel, unfeeling murderer!"
"Sydney, stop this-"
"No! I-"
"Sydney!" Vaughn practically screamed. He had to stop this self-guilt before it killed her. He looked at her, and saw her eyes were filled with fear. He realized what she had done. She had bared her soul to him, told him everything. She was vulnerable now. He could either help her or hurt her horribly. And he saw, in her eyes, that she wasn't positive he would help her. She didn't completely trust him. Well, he would show her she could trust him. He gently grasped her hands, holding them tight.
"Sydney, listen to me. Look at me. I am touching you. I don't call you a murderer. Neither does your father, or Will, or Dixon. I'm not repulsed by you, I'm not afraid to come near you. You could kill me in an instant, I know that, but do you see me backing away? No, Syd. Why? Because you're not a ruthless killer. You don't go around killing for fun. If you did, I wouldn't be here with you. But I am, because you're a compassionate, smart, strong woman, not a cold-blooded killer."
She was shaking slightly, perhaps because he hadn't abused her trust. God, did she really trust no one? Was she that suspicious of everyone? No wonder she was in such bad shape. But he thought he was getting to her. She seemed to be listening. He could only hope he was reaching her.
"Syd, think of the people you kill. Who are they? They are not innocent civilians. They are hired to kill. They know what they're doing and they know what might happen to them. They know there's a good chance they'll die. You know, every time you go on a mission, that you might not come back. We are brought into this life knowing what might happen. But think of what would happen if you didn't do what you do. Certain people in this world, power hungry people, would do anything they could to get what they wanted, and if you weren't there, they would succeed. And what would the price be? Civilian lives. Countless civilian lives. You may kill, Sydney, but the people you kill are trained to die. By killing, you are saving countless other lives."
Sydney was silent for a long time. Vaughn didn't pressure her, let her think it over. He hoped she could get out. He hoped she would forgive herself, not blame herself so harshly, but Sydney was so hard on herself. She thought she needed to be perfect. She needed to see that she didn't have to be.
TBC... please R/R