Something was unquestionably wrong. She didn't even have to open her eyes
to realize that. Almost unsure what she would find, Sydney's eyes opened
again and gone was the beautiful and elegant hotel and here was a dark room
and she was no longer in the feather bed. Things were cold and harsh. She
was strapped to a wall by heavy leather and metal chains. An involuntary
gasp escaped her lips. What was going on? She tried to pull against it
wall but her body was suddenly sore and couldn't move. The darkness
clouded her senses and she could barely make out a figure strapped to the
wall to her left. It was obviously a male figure from his silhouette. Her
eyes fluttered quickly as she tried to focus on the figure. She had to
take a gamble and guess who it was, "Vaughn.?" Her voice was groggy and
raspy. All she could do was gasp for air and pray that he would answer.
The figure's head lifted up and he squinted his eyes to see who it was, "Oh Syd." He groaned. "You're awake. I was so worried." His voice sounded sincere but wavering. He began to cough violently, causing the chains to jingle in an ominous tone. The horrible noise sent a chill up her spine, that caused her restraints to shake.
"What happened?" She was afraid to ask. Her body shifted slightly and she could rest easier against the wall. Her body ached with severe pain that grew more and more intense with each slight inhale.
Vaughn gasped for air a little before he spoke again, "Sloane found us and while you were sleeping, captured us and we've been tortured for..I think..it might be a week?"
"A week?"
"Yeah." Gasp. "You've been out cold since we got here. Sloane wanted to make sure I was tortured by seeing you in the state you in pain. Are you okay, now? Please, tell me." A rattle of chains was heard before she could open her mouth to answer. A bright light flicked on, blinding both of them. Their eyes shut immediately and her body tried to brace herself. The muscles tightened all along her arms and her legs. Her fight or flight reflex kicked into high gear. Vaughn was too weak to do anything..instead; he let out a shudder followed by a moan of dread. "Oh G- d."
"Is that too bright?" A cold voice forced Sydney to open her eyes and stare at him.
"Sloane?" She wanted to bark but it came out more like a whimper. She wanted to kill him more than anything else in the world.
"My dear Sydney, I am so pleased you're awake." His voice was revolting. "And Mr. Vaughn, are you feeling well today?" He came towards them, brandishing a new torture weapon in his fists. His beady eyes settled on Sydney and he clicked his tongue softly, "Pity. You were my best agent but you know too much." The weapon was brought up to eye level. It looked like a long metal pole with little sharp grooves in it. "Which one of you would like to be first?" Silence filled as Sloane took a breath, "No volunteers? Well Sydney, I fear that is it your turn to watch." He said, in a partially remorseful tone. He quickly turned in his black suit, the material making a soothing whoosh sound. "Lay him out." Was the instruction to the two men in suits at the cell block door.
One guard came towards Vaughn and unlocked his wrist and legs from their tight restraints. He immediately collapsed to the ground, showing how weak he truly was. He tried not to groan as the men grabbed him by the wrists, with visible sores and gashes on them. They pulled him up and literally threw him on the table. He started to shake and his eyes and his head looked at Sydney. His body was turning against him in such a way that he could barely fight the two men rebounding his limbs to a long table in the center of the torture room. His green eyes were fogged over and his face was drawn and pale. He looked at her and tears began to fall, soaking the metal table beneath his exposed chest. They both had been stripped down, only wearing bare minimum clothing. He only wore a pair of sweatpants and she wore a badly torn tank-top and ripped pajama pants. The tears formed a sad little pool by his shoulder and slowly, his chest was stopping..stopping moving up and down. "Syd." His breathed, letting more tears shed, "It's over."
"It's not over." She spoke softly to him. "Don't hurt him!" Sydney found herself saying, throwing her body weight against the chains. "Please, I'll do anything!"
"It's too late for that, Sydney." Sloane showed his teeth towards her. His feet glided him towards Vaughn with what looked like a box cutter in his hands, it was a different weapon than two minutes ago. Black met brown as his lips curled into a smile and then starred down at Vaughn. "It's too bad," he started, "you two looked so destined together lying in that hotel bed. I should have recruited him. He would have done us proud."
Sydney began to sob, "He would have never joined SD-6. He wanted to bring you down more than I did." She let her eyes meet Sloane's. She hated him so much and she wished that he was on the table, instead of Vaughn. She never broke down when she tortured. Her emotions were always kept in check but this was different. This couldn't be reality.
"Because he was in love with you. Because he was CIA. Because he made you betray me. Because he was in love with." He snapped hastily.
"He is in love with me."
"Not when I'm done with him he won't be." Sloane knelt over the body, examining his calves and then turned towards a guard. "Make it messy. I want her to see what she's done." The tool was transferred from gruesome hand to gruesome hand and Sloane left the room.
Vaughn's eyes had clouded over even more. He was giving up. His body was covered with gashes, bruises, and far worst than third degree burns. His body was being destroyed and the last thing was his mind. If he just let go.
"Don't let go, Vaughn. Please, for me. For your mother, your father." Sydney started to plead to him but as the guard leaned closer, tears soaked through her words. "Don't let go. Please, Vaughn. Vaughn."
Vaughn's eyes opened quickly. Something was wrong. His name was being screamed into the darkness. His body immediately jumped up, his head whipped around looking for the cause of the commotion but there was nothing there. All he felt and saw was a body tossing and turning next to his. Sydney was lying next to him, screaming his name out, tears freely flowing down her face. The comforter was wrapped around her body as she arched her back like she was trying to break away from a hold. He sat up a little bit and attempted to wake her or comfort her or something. It greatly upset him to see her like that. He had only seen her frantic a select number of times and this was by far the worst. This wasn't an outside force. It was something in her mind that caused this.
"Don't let go. Please, Vaughn. Vaughn." She pleaded through gasps. Her eyes were welded shut with tears escaping down the beige lids.
He ran his hand over her forehead and attempted to comfort her. Her skin felt so smooth beneath his palm. "Syd. Syd." He repeated over and over again, coaxing her to open her eyes but it was not going to happen easily.
"Don't kill him! Please! Vaughn! Vaughn!" Sydney screamed as she fought against the chains binding her. They grew tighter and tighter as she fought. The second guard stood off to the side of her and touched her forehead, mockingly. He smiled a revolting smile.
The first guard approached Vaughn's calves, slitting his Achilles tendons in both legs. Vaughn began to scream in terrified pain, attempting to wriggle free but his screams only made the guard more eager to finish the enjoyable job. Vaughn's wrists and forearms were next. Blood began to ooze from every fiber of his being. His body began to tremble and the screaming grew weaker. She didn't even attempt to fight against the chains anymore but watched in horror as the guard was right there expelling large amounts of blood from Vaughn's perfect skin. "He's already lost so much blood, Sydney." The guard hissed in between Vaughn's ear piercing screams.
Sydney's screams became louder and louder, overriding Vaughn's until hers stopped. She had never seen such a red color before. That color red wasn't found anywhere else. Shock overwhelmed her for a few moments and she fought to think clearly. "Please, take me instead!" She finally said calmly. This was death sentence and she knew it but she needed to save Vaughn..even if it meant throwing herself away. The guard looked up and this time, it wasn't the guard, it was Sark's face.
"You heard the lady. We'll take her instead." He crossed his arms and his eyes settled on her chest. He licked his lips. "You'll go first." He stepped back a little.
She felt dirty and vile as the other guard let her loose. "Let me stay here for a moment. Then, you can take me." She stood on her own feet, fighting the searing pain in her body.
"Done." Sark replied, stepping back even further.
Even the mighty can fall unexpectedly. As soon as Sark spoke, she fell to the floor and tried to compose herself before she said her good- bye. Subconsciously, she started to nurse her sore wrists. The guard then pulled her to her feel and held tightly, pressing on the pressure point in her already weak back. Sydney limped the three feet to the table, where she collapsed onto his body. She ran her hand over his face, pale and shaking from pain. His breath was almost non-existent but she still felt some onto her cheek. "Hey. Don't give up on me, baby. Come on. Open your eyes honey. Come on. Please. Please, open your eyes." She let a sob escape her mouth, causing her whole body to shake, "Please, please Vaughn." They can't take you from me! Please, Vaughn, open your eyes." His green eyes had rolled back into his head and his chest was no longer moving up and down. "Please! Vaughn! Vaughn!" She sobbed and felt his blood onto her body. It was the last thing that she would have of his. Her body was shaking and sweat was dripping down her back as her eyes looked up for a moment. She felt something damp and soft against her forehead. It mingled with the sweat and tears on her brow. Sark had the gun pressed to her head, finger on the trigger. Her eyes filled with horror and breath stopped entirely.
"Now, it's your turn, Sydney. Sydney. Sydney. Syd! Syd!"
BANG!
He tried to comfort her and wake her up even more. She was growing more hysterical with every second that ticked by on the clock. She was screaming his name but at one point, the tears had grown more intense.
"Hey." She had sobbed, "Don't give up on me, baby. Come on. Open your eyes, honey. Come on. Please. Please, open your eyes. Please, please Vaughn. They can't take you from me! Please Vaughn, open your eyes!"
He kissed the top of her head and started to talk again, "Sydney. Sydney. Syd..Syd. Syd!! He started to shake her gently, opening her eyes from the hell she was obviously living in.
She finally jumped up and her eyes shot open. The tears and the gasp came more rapidly. Her face thrashed around, taking in the surroundings again. Was she really back in the hotel room? She tried to get a bearing on her surroundings and finally, her frantic eyes settled to her left. There was Vaughn, sitting straight up with a terrified look on his face. "Vaughn?" She sobbed as she leaned towards him. She collapsed into his body and let her body shake. "Oh my G-d. Oh my G-d." She repeated over and over again. She rested her hands on his collar bone and shook violently.
"What happened? You were tossing and turning and screaming." He ran his hand on her back, trying to calm her down. She had curled up and had her head buried deeply in his chest. Her sobs rocked her body and he tried to comfort her. His kissed the top of her head and rocked with her back and forth, painfully aware that he was only wearing boxers and t-shirt. His attire was quickly soaked through but it didn't matter. "Can you tell me?" He pressed her when she didn't answer.
She promptly responded by sitting up straight and wiping her eyes. "I don't know where to start." She stifled a sob. She looked at him helplessly. "Oh my G-d."
"Then, why don't you lie down and just relax. You don't have to tell me." He laid back and motioned for her to follow suit. Her eyes engulfed themselves in fear as he continued to coax her. "C'mon. It's fine, really." She nodded reluctantly and lay in his arms. He made soothing noises and kept his arms wrapped tightly around her. His body stayed propped up. He towered over her and she curled up towards him. She felt safe..almost safe.
"I dreamed," she started slowly, her eyes starring up at him. "That Sloane captured us..he found us here and...and he tortured us. We were there a week and then, he strapped you to this table and cut your tendons and you were screaming and I was screaming and then Sark came and I exchanged my life for yours but you-you-you died and then Sark put the gun to my head and then he started saying my name and I woke up." Her speech was rapid and full of gasps. The last tear rolled down her cheek. "I saw you dead. I've never been more scared in my life." Her lips pressed against each and formed a straight line. Another sob was swallowed as Vaughn's eyes clouded with tears. She reached up and traced the tear line with her finger. "Please don't."
He held her hand tightly in hers, pulling it away from his face. "I hate seeing you this way." His hands were warm against her cold skin. She opened her mouth to say another thing but he cut her off, "Relax. You need to sleep. This has been a tough twenty four hours. You have a lot on your mind."
She shook her head adamantly, "I can't close my eyes." She was a five year old again afraid of the monster in her closet or the eight year old afraid of bridges and water. She started to gasp and shake again.
He held her body closer to his, "I won't let anything happen to you."
Her eyes got wider and the tears threatened to flow again, "You don't know what I saw. The blood. Your blood was on my hands. You were killed because of me. You're here because of me. G-d Vaughn, you need to get out of here." Sobs took control again. It was a pure mixture of exhaustion and genuine fear. "You stopped breathing and got cold. Really cold, really fast."
The blood in his body stopped for a moment. It began to run cold but his hands started to sweat from nerves, "But I'm not cold, see?" He pressed one hand against her arm, "I'm 98.6. I'm not dead Sydney."
"Yet."
"Sydney, you have to snap out of this." He sat up more and released his grasp from her.
"It felt so real. I could feel everything. The guard touching my face, the gun against my head, the blood on my body, the sores, everything. It was too authentic." She hushed her voice and started to sit up, drawing her knees close to her chest. It was a feeling of comfort for her. She kept her ankles crossed and brought her head down to rest her chin on her knees with her hands clasped in front of them. She felt the pain in her heart against her legs. It was an indescribable pain that was more mental than physical. Her heart pounded hard and it was causing her agony. "It was too real."
Vaughn could understand her pain. He wrinkled his forehead and sighed, cleared his throat and opened her mouth to speak. There was a lecture coming and she couldn't have expected what was about to come. "When I was little," he started fighting to keep his voice steady, "before my dad died," He swallowed hard, repressing memories, "I used to be afraid of monsters in the closet. I used to have these horrible dreams of the them coming and taking me away, out of my bed and into their monster world in the closet and eating me. One day," This was obviously hard for him to admit, "I didn't have the dream of the monster eating me but of my mom. I was so shook up by it I refused to sleep for two days straight."
Sydney's face was still red and blotchy as he spoke but her eyes watched him with interest
"On the second day, my mom came into my bedroom and lay me down and wrapped her arms around me. Mon chéri, nos rêves sont simplement des possibilités de nos réalités. Et si ces rêves sont horribles, puis nous choisissons de ne pas leur faire notre réalité. Nous choisissons notre destin à un certain degré mais nous ne pouvons pas contrôler ce qui est enterré dans nos esprits. Maintenant mon cher, étroit vos yeux et rêve des possibilités sans fin que votre réalité peut se tenir." He watched this set into her mind for a moment before he started to translate but she cut him off.
"My darling, our dreams are merely possibilities of our realities. And if those dreams are horrible, then we choose not to make them our reality. We choose our destiny to some degree but we cannot control what is buried in our minds. Now my dear, close your eyes and dream of the endless possibilities your reality can hold." She quickly translated in one breath. "She had a gift for words.
"Yeah, I always thought so too." Vaughn replied. He broke the eye contact between them and stared down at the blanket wrapped between them and concentrated on one wrinkle. He refused to let their eyes meet for a moment. It was easier to tell this this way. "After Dad died, she started writing. She had gotten a call from the CIA, actually, extending their condolences and she asked about the circumstances of his death. They couldn't tell her anything, so she started writing. I guess what she had wished had happened. She let me read it a couple of months ago..after his anniversary and it was beautiful. This woman, during some war..she was specific was captured and thrown into a prison. In her cell, there was a man, an American, and they became friends. They were tortured daily but their friendship remained strong. One day, after she had been brutally beaten and was on the verge of dying from blood loss, the guards gave them a decision. If one of them killed the other, then the other could get medical attention. The man decided that the woman should get medical attention, so he had her kill him."
"Story sounds almost familiar." Sydney remarked quietly, playing with her fake nails over his skin.
"Let's not talk about it." He swallowed hard and let his brow wrinkle with concern. Memories were coming back in tidal waves and he couldn't bare it anymore. He swallowed hard again, holding his tongue back not to let any tears escape. "Why don't you get some sleep?"
"Not yet." She replied, resting the side of her head against the headboard. "I need to tell you why I was so afraid to go to sleep before."
His brain quickly wracked for answers. Right before they had fallen asleep, she had mentioned she couldn't fall asleep. "Go ahead."
She sighed deeply and decided it was time to tell him about the other dreams. Her eyes remained shut or focused straight ahead. She went into every detail from his murder, to hers, to the destruction but went into the most detail about the dream she had had the other day. It was the dream about the Paris restaurant and the CIA and everything (AN-if you don't remember her dreaming this, it's in Chapter 2) After she had finished, she cleared her throat and looked at him.
No eye contact was made back. Somewhere in the middle of her tale, he had shifted so his back leaned against the headboard. He couldn't face her anymore. The wrinkles on his brow were more intense as he listened, pushing his own emotions down. His face faced forward and he concentrated on a little nick in the wall. It took a moment for this to sink. She had been dreaming of him for months. Almost three months. Did she realize how he felt? Did she feel the same way? The dinner was too much. Why the hell did he listen to Weiss? He hadn't listened to him since training, now six years later he started to do it again? Figures. The one recent time he listened, he had gotten himself screwed. "Tell her how you feel." Weiss said, "You should have taken that hotel room, man." "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Weiss was such an idiot sometimes!
Vaughn sighed and forced himself into the present. It took a moment for him to speak. He kept running his hands over face, obviously thinking of a careful reply. She couldn't tell if he was panicking or honestly flustered or annoyed. He became so unreadable at that moment. It took ages for him to turn his head down, back to the blanket, over her body and then up to her face. His eyes finally rested on her face as he turned his head towards her. His green eyes were no longer cloudy or fuzzy. They were crisp and cool. He licked his lips and to her, it was one of the most seductive things he could have done at that moment. "Let's go get something to eat. We need to take a walk and talk. But we need to get out of the hotel room. I'm hungry. You hungry? I think we just need to sit down with a good cup of coffee and some pastries and we'll talk." He out of the bed and looked at the digital clock on the nightstand as her jaw dropped. It was 10:45 in the morning. His hands went over his face as he tried to cope with what she just said and then his reply. Did he say the right thing? He finally stopped his thoughts for a moment and faced her. "Yeah?" He answered his own question.
"Yeah, that'd be nice." She watched him for a moment and was surprised at how soft and fragile her voice sounded. Sydney swung her legs to one side of the bed and slowly got to her feet. Her body was weak, maybe from exhaustion or maybe because she was weak in the knees from Vaughn. She tried too smile a little bit at him, blinking away any tears.
"I'll take a bug killer with me and then we can talk." He leaned down and started to rummage through one of the suitcases in search for a set of clothing. It took him a moment longer than expected, wanting to hurry and get changed. He found a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt. He held one article of clothing in each hand and looked at Sydney once more, "Lemme get changed and then we'll go down to the café, relax and talk about this." As he finished, he ducked into the bathroom to change.
"Okay." She sat at the very edge of the bed, mascara dripping down her face, intertwined with tears. Her mouth had fallen open slightly and her eyebrows lifted in question. Her hands wiped her face once more and she got out of bed. Things were a lot clearer now than they were just ten hours ago. Well, at least she could see straight. Her throat was cleared as she walked over to the suitcase and found a simple, white thin strapped sundress. With full knowledge that Vaughn was in the bathroom, she quickly undressed and slipped into the light cotton material. It flowed over the curves of her body and she reached over to find a pair of white flip-flops to accompany the casual feel of the dress. Digging deeper into the case, she found a brush, to which she promptly ran through her hair and scoffed at her stringy brown locks. She had to put that horrible wig on. She would slowly ease out of wearing it or dye her hair, one of the two. Glancing carelessly at the mirror, she realized what a sight she looked like. "I look like crap." She said to her reflection. If reflections could talk, she was sure it would reply, "That's for damn sure." She ran her hand under her eye and looked at the black line formed on her hand and she scoffed. Vaughn couldn't possible see her as attractive in the state she was in. But then again, he was at his sexiest when he was all over the place. The curve of her mouth managed to tug up a little as she thought of him, put together yet falling apart at the seams. He was gorgeous no matter what.
"That is for damn sure." Sydney spoke louder than before to the un- answering reflection.
"Ja saw something?" Vaughn called from the bathroom over the water running in the sink.
"Nothing." She called back and turned towards the door. He had truly panicked when she told him about the nightmare. Her arms crossed over her body and she starred down at her feet. Her body wasn't as tire as she thought it would be but she still leaned against the oak dresser. All she could do was attempt to keep her mind clear and ready to talk about anything and everything with him.
Vaughn dressed quickly and stood in front of the big black marble sink and oval mirror. He examined his features closely and quickly discovered that he hadn't shave in two days. Sydney couldn't possibly find him remotely attractive in the state that he was in. He was exhausted and after a few hours of sleeping off the drugs, he had laid awake thinking about her and what had happened and what could happen. His eyes focused back in on themselves. Why did it have to be this way? He had fallen in love with her, hard, and now, he had laid in the same bed with her and could do absolutely nothing about it. He reflected for a moment the dream he had been awoken from. It was simple and sweet. He and Sydney were in the warehouse and after a long conversation of nothing, she leaned towards him to give him a paper or a number or something but instead, he moved so he stood right in front of her. And before he knew it, his lips were pressed to hers and her hands were wrapped up in his hair and his jacket. They didn't go any further for he heard and felt screams of panic and was brought back into the cruel reality that he was now living. *That was definitely the wrong answer. I should have sat down with her, in that bed, and just talked her dreams out. Why did I suggest we should go to breakfast? I feel like I'm back in freaking in High School. How much does that suck? I hated high school. I was the skinny French kid that didn't score until I was eighteen!* Reluctantly and with a new feeling of dread and self-pity, he opened the door. His eyes moved slowly until they reached Sydney, examining the folds on the bed carefully with as much concentration as she attacked everyday with. She didn't notice him for a moment and he was allowed to look her body over.
She felt his eyes on her and turned her head. "Lemme chip this off of my face and we can go down. I need food. I haven't eaten since two days ago. Right? Yeah cause yesterday I got up and then it happened and then we were on the plane, took the sleeping pills and somehow ended up here." She spoke rapidly as she made her way past him, leaving the door open as she washed her face, glancing up now and then to see Vaughn still standing in the doorway. She turned to put on make-up but discovered the case was still in her luggage.
"Looking for this?" Vaughn had disappeared for a moment and reappeared with a small black bag overrun with make-up. She smiled a grateful smile and took it front his outstretched hand. She turned back and started to wash the black off of her face and with it, all the dreams. When she had finished washing it off, reapplied it, and applied her wig (still sitting in the bathroom), Vaughn had walked further into the door. "Perfect." He mumbled.
"Yeah, I guess this will have to do for Portia." She smiled and glanced backwards into the mirror once more. "Right."
"You're perfect, Sydney." Vaughn walked closer and brought her close to his body. "Come here for a minute." They rocked back and forth until her breathing matched his breathing pattern. He inhaled deeply her scent of salty tears and Italian perfume. He wanted to stay like that for a while, his hands on the small of her back and her hands around her neck. She filled the empty space like a puzzle piece lost from its box and then joyfully found one rainy day. Her tears being the rain, her the puzzle and him the finder.
She smiled at the stubble on his cheek. The tears threatened to come to her eyes again. She had fallen for the one man she couldn't have, and she had gotten to the point where she didn't know if she could wake up every morning and know that she could never have him. She pressed herself closer, wanting to get the last bit of smell impressed into her clothing but as the electricity grew into a fire in her heart, she started to pull back, letting him know it was time to go back to reality. "Let's go." She whispered into his neck, sniffling slightly.
He straightened up. Maybe he could never have her but they were still "married" and had to act like it in public. Maybe he could never have her for real but what dreams may come. He straightened up and watched her regain all the elegance of a ballet dancer. They moved towards the door in sync with the music that filled their hearts at each other's touch and walked towards the door, his arm around her waist and hers around his back. "Let's go."
AN: Thanks for all the reviews! I hope you liked this chapter, it's my fave so far!!! I promise the big twist is coming that will shock you all! Thanks again and Read and REVIEW!!!!
The figure's head lifted up and he squinted his eyes to see who it was, "Oh Syd." He groaned. "You're awake. I was so worried." His voice sounded sincere but wavering. He began to cough violently, causing the chains to jingle in an ominous tone. The horrible noise sent a chill up her spine, that caused her restraints to shake.
"What happened?" She was afraid to ask. Her body shifted slightly and she could rest easier against the wall. Her body ached with severe pain that grew more and more intense with each slight inhale.
Vaughn gasped for air a little before he spoke again, "Sloane found us and while you were sleeping, captured us and we've been tortured for..I think..it might be a week?"
"A week?"
"Yeah." Gasp. "You've been out cold since we got here. Sloane wanted to make sure I was tortured by seeing you in the state you in pain. Are you okay, now? Please, tell me." A rattle of chains was heard before she could open her mouth to answer. A bright light flicked on, blinding both of them. Their eyes shut immediately and her body tried to brace herself. The muscles tightened all along her arms and her legs. Her fight or flight reflex kicked into high gear. Vaughn was too weak to do anything..instead; he let out a shudder followed by a moan of dread. "Oh G- d."
"Is that too bright?" A cold voice forced Sydney to open her eyes and stare at him.
"Sloane?" She wanted to bark but it came out more like a whimper. She wanted to kill him more than anything else in the world.
"My dear Sydney, I am so pleased you're awake." His voice was revolting. "And Mr. Vaughn, are you feeling well today?" He came towards them, brandishing a new torture weapon in his fists. His beady eyes settled on Sydney and he clicked his tongue softly, "Pity. You were my best agent but you know too much." The weapon was brought up to eye level. It looked like a long metal pole with little sharp grooves in it. "Which one of you would like to be first?" Silence filled as Sloane took a breath, "No volunteers? Well Sydney, I fear that is it your turn to watch." He said, in a partially remorseful tone. He quickly turned in his black suit, the material making a soothing whoosh sound. "Lay him out." Was the instruction to the two men in suits at the cell block door.
One guard came towards Vaughn and unlocked his wrist and legs from their tight restraints. He immediately collapsed to the ground, showing how weak he truly was. He tried not to groan as the men grabbed him by the wrists, with visible sores and gashes on them. They pulled him up and literally threw him on the table. He started to shake and his eyes and his head looked at Sydney. His body was turning against him in such a way that he could barely fight the two men rebounding his limbs to a long table in the center of the torture room. His green eyes were fogged over and his face was drawn and pale. He looked at her and tears began to fall, soaking the metal table beneath his exposed chest. They both had been stripped down, only wearing bare minimum clothing. He only wore a pair of sweatpants and she wore a badly torn tank-top and ripped pajama pants. The tears formed a sad little pool by his shoulder and slowly, his chest was stopping..stopping moving up and down. "Syd." His breathed, letting more tears shed, "It's over."
"It's not over." She spoke softly to him. "Don't hurt him!" Sydney found herself saying, throwing her body weight against the chains. "Please, I'll do anything!"
"It's too late for that, Sydney." Sloane showed his teeth towards her. His feet glided him towards Vaughn with what looked like a box cutter in his hands, it was a different weapon than two minutes ago. Black met brown as his lips curled into a smile and then starred down at Vaughn. "It's too bad," he started, "you two looked so destined together lying in that hotel bed. I should have recruited him. He would have done us proud."
Sydney began to sob, "He would have never joined SD-6. He wanted to bring you down more than I did." She let her eyes meet Sloane's. She hated him so much and she wished that he was on the table, instead of Vaughn. She never broke down when she tortured. Her emotions were always kept in check but this was different. This couldn't be reality.
"Because he was in love with you. Because he was CIA. Because he made you betray me. Because he was in love with." He snapped hastily.
"He is in love with me."
"Not when I'm done with him he won't be." Sloane knelt over the body, examining his calves and then turned towards a guard. "Make it messy. I want her to see what she's done." The tool was transferred from gruesome hand to gruesome hand and Sloane left the room.
Vaughn's eyes had clouded over even more. He was giving up. His body was covered with gashes, bruises, and far worst than third degree burns. His body was being destroyed and the last thing was his mind. If he just let go.
"Don't let go, Vaughn. Please, for me. For your mother, your father." Sydney started to plead to him but as the guard leaned closer, tears soaked through her words. "Don't let go. Please, Vaughn. Vaughn."
Vaughn's eyes opened quickly. Something was wrong. His name was being screamed into the darkness. His body immediately jumped up, his head whipped around looking for the cause of the commotion but there was nothing there. All he felt and saw was a body tossing and turning next to his. Sydney was lying next to him, screaming his name out, tears freely flowing down her face. The comforter was wrapped around her body as she arched her back like she was trying to break away from a hold. He sat up a little bit and attempted to wake her or comfort her or something. It greatly upset him to see her like that. He had only seen her frantic a select number of times and this was by far the worst. This wasn't an outside force. It was something in her mind that caused this.
"Don't let go. Please, Vaughn. Vaughn." She pleaded through gasps. Her eyes were welded shut with tears escaping down the beige lids.
He ran his hand over her forehead and attempted to comfort her. Her skin felt so smooth beneath his palm. "Syd. Syd." He repeated over and over again, coaxing her to open her eyes but it was not going to happen easily.
"Don't kill him! Please! Vaughn! Vaughn!" Sydney screamed as she fought against the chains binding her. They grew tighter and tighter as she fought. The second guard stood off to the side of her and touched her forehead, mockingly. He smiled a revolting smile.
The first guard approached Vaughn's calves, slitting his Achilles tendons in both legs. Vaughn began to scream in terrified pain, attempting to wriggle free but his screams only made the guard more eager to finish the enjoyable job. Vaughn's wrists and forearms were next. Blood began to ooze from every fiber of his being. His body began to tremble and the screaming grew weaker. She didn't even attempt to fight against the chains anymore but watched in horror as the guard was right there expelling large amounts of blood from Vaughn's perfect skin. "He's already lost so much blood, Sydney." The guard hissed in between Vaughn's ear piercing screams.
Sydney's screams became louder and louder, overriding Vaughn's until hers stopped. She had never seen such a red color before. That color red wasn't found anywhere else. Shock overwhelmed her for a few moments and she fought to think clearly. "Please, take me instead!" She finally said calmly. This was death sentence and she knew it but she needed to save Vaughn..even if it meant throwing herself away. The guard looked up and this time, it wasn't the guard, it was Sark's face.
"You heard the lady. We'll take her instead." He crossed his arms and his eyes settled on her chest. He licked his lips. "You'll go first." He stepped back a little.
She felt dirty and vile as the other guard let her loose. "Let me stay here for a moment. Then, you can take me." She stood on her own feet, fighting the searing pain in her body.
"Done." Sark replied, stepping back even further.
Even the mighty can fall unexpectedly. As soon as Sark spoke, she fell to the floor and tried to compose herself before she said her good- bye. Subconsciously, she started to nurse her sore wrists. The guard then pulled her to her feel and held tightly, pressing on the pressure point in her already weak back. Sydney limped the three feet to the table, where she collapsed onto his body. She ran her hand over his face, pale and shaking from pain. His breath was almost non-existent but she still felt some onto her cheek. "Hey. Don't give up on me, baby. Come on. Open your eyes honey. Come on. Please. Please, open your eyes." She let a sob escape her mouth, causing her whole body to shake, "Please, please Vaughn." They can't take you from me! Please, Vaughn, open your eyes." His green eyes had rolled back into his head and his chest was no longer moving up and down. "Please! Vaughn! Vaughn!" She sobbed and felt his blood onto her body. It was the last thing that she would have of his. Her body was shaking and sweat was dripping down her back as her eyes looked up for a moment. She felt something damp and soft against her forehead. It mingled with the sweat and tears on her brow. Sark had the gun pressed to her head, finger on the trigger. Her eyes filled with horror and breath stopped entirely.
"Now, it's your turn, Sydney. Sydney. Sydney. Syd! Syd!"
BANG!
He tried to comfort her and wake her up even more. She was growing more hysterical with every second that ticked by on the clock. She was screaming his name but at one point, the tears had grown more intense.
"Hey." She had sobbed, "Don't give up on me, baby. Come on. Open your eyes, honey. Come on. Please. Please, open your eyes. Please, please Vaughn. They can't take you from me! Please Vaughn, open your eyes!"
He kissed the top of her head and started to talk again, "Sydney. Sydney. Syd..Syd. Syd!! He started to shake her gently, opening her eyes from the hell she was obviously living in.
She finally jumped up and her eyes shot open. The tears and the gasp came more rapidly. Her face thrashed around, taking in the surroundings again. Was she really back in the hotel room? She tried to get a bearing on her surroundings and finally, her frantic eyes settled to her left. There was Vaughn, sitting straight up with a terrified look on his face. "Vaughn?" She sobbed as she leaned towards him. She collapsed into his body and let her body shake. "Oh my G-d. Oh my G-d." She repeated over and over again. She rested her hands on his collar bone and shook violently.
"What happened? You were tossing and turning and screaming." He ran his hand on her back, trying to calm her down. She had curled up and had her head buried deeply in his chest. Her sobs rocked her body and he tried to comfort her. His kissed the top of her head and rocked with her back and forth, painfully aware that he was only wearing boxers and t-shirt. His attire was quickly soaked through but it didn't matter. "Can you tell me?" He pressed her when she didn't answer.
She promptly responded by sitting up straight and wiping her eyes. "I don't know where to start." She stifled a sob. She looked at him helplessly. "Oh my G-d."
"Then, why don't you lie down and just relax. You don't have to tell me." He laid back and motioned for her to follow suit. Her eyes engulfed themselves in fear as he continued to coax her. "C'mon. It's fine, really." She nodded reluctantly and lay in his arms. He made soothing noises and kept his arms wrapped tightly around her. His body stayed propped up. He towered over her and she curled up towards him. She felt safe..almost safe.
"I dreamed," she started slowly, her eyes starring up at him. "That Sloane captured us..he found us here and...and he tortured us. We were there a week and then, he strapped you to this table and cut your tendons and you were screaming and I was screaming and then Sark came and I exchanged my life for yours but you-you-you died and then Sark put the gun to my head and then he started saying my name and I woke up." Her speech was rapid and full of gasps. The last tear rolled down her cheek. "I saw you dead. I've never been more scared in my life." Her lips pressed against each and formed a straight line. Another sob was swallowed as Vaughn's eyes clouded with tears. She reached up and traced the tear line with her finger. "Please don't."
He held her hand tightly in hers, pulling it away from his face. "I hate seeing you this way." His hands were warm against her cold skin. She opened her mouth to say another thing but he cut her off, "Relax. You need to sleep. This has been a tough twenty four hours. You have a lot on your mind."
She shook her head adamantly, "I can't close my eyes." She was a five year old again afraid of the monster in her closet or the eight year old afraid of bridges and water. She started to gasp and shake again.
He held her body closer to his, "I won't let anything happen to you."
Her eyes got wider and the tears threatened to flow again, "You don't know what I saw. The blood. Your blood was on my hands. You were killed because of me. You're here because of me. G-d Vaughn, you need to get out of here." Sobs took control again. It was a pure mixture of exhaustion and genuine fear. "You stopped breathing and got cold. Really cold, really fast."
The blood in his body stopped for a moment. It began to run cold but his hands started to sweat from nerves, "But I'm not cold, see?" He pressed one hand against her arm, "I'm 98.6. I'm not dead Sydney."
"Yet."
"Sydney, you have to snap out of this." He sat up more and released his grasp from her.
"It felt so real. I could feel everything. The guard touching my face, the gun against my head, the blood on my body, the sores, everything. It was too authentic." She hushed her voice and started to sit up, drawing her knees close to her chest. It was a feeling of comfort for her. She kept her ankles crossed and brought her head down to rest her chin on her knees with her hands clasped in front of them. She felt the pain in her heart against her legs. It was an indescribable pain that was more mental than physical. Her heart pounded hard and it was causing her agony. "It was too real."
Vaughn could understand her pain. He wrinkled his forehead and sighed, cleared his throat and opened her mouth to speak. There was a lecture coming and she couldn't have expected what was about to come. "When I was little," he started fighting to keep his voice steady, "before my dad died," He swallowed hard, repressing memories, "I used to be afraid of monsters in the closet. I used to have these horrible dreams of the them coming and taking me away, out of my bed and into their monster world in the closet and eating me. One day," This was obviously hard for him to admit, "I didn't have the dream of the monster eating me but of my mom. I was so shook up by it I refused to sleep for two days straight."
Sydney's face was still red and blotchy as he spoke but her eyes watched him with interest
"On the second day, my mom came into my bedroom and lay me down and wrapped her arms around me. Mon chéri, nos rêves sont simplement des possibilités de nos réalités. Et si ces rêves sont horribles, puis nous choisissons de ne pas leur faire notre réalité. Nous choisissons notre destin à un certain degré mais nous ne pouvons pas contrôler ce qui est enterré dans nos esprits. Maintenant mon cher, étroit vos yeux et rêve des possibilités sans fin que votre réalité peut se tenir." He watched this set into her mind for a moment before he started to translate but she cut him off.
"My darling, our dreams are merely possibilities of our realities. And if those dreams are horrible, then we choose not to make them our reality. We choose our destiny to some degree but we cannot control what is buried in our minds. Now my dear, close your eyes and dream of the endless possibilities your reality can hold." She quickly translated in one breath. "She had a gift for words.
"Yeah, I always thought so too." Vaughn replied. He broke the eye contact between them and stared down at the blanket wrapped between them and concentrated on one wrinkle. He refused to let their eyes meet for a moment. It was easier to tell this this way. "After Dad died, she started writing. She had gotten a call from the CIA, actually, extending their condolences and she asked about the circumstances of his death. They couldn't tell her anything, so she started writing. I guess what she had wished had happened. She let me read it a couple of months ago..after his anniversary and it was beautiful. This woman, during some war..she was specific was captured and thrown into a prison. In her cell, there was a man, an American, and they became friends. They were tortured daily but their friendship remained strong. One day, after she had been brutally beaten and was on the verge of dying from blood loss, the guards gave them a decision. If one of them killed the other, then the other could get medical attention. The man decided that the woman should get medical attention, so he had her kill him."
"Story sounds almost familiar." Sydney remarked quietly, playing with her fake nails over his skin.
"Let's not talk about it." He swallowed hard and let his brow wrinkle with concern. Memories were coming back in tidal waves and he couldn't bare it anymore. He swallowed hard again, holding his tongue back not to let any tears escape. "Why don't you get some sleep?"
"Not yet." She replied, resting the side of her head against the headboard. "I need to tell you why I was so afraid to go to sleep before."
His brain quickly wracked for answers. Right before they had fallen asleep, she had mentioned she couldn't fall asleep. "Go ahead."
She sighed deeply and decided it was time to tell him about the other dreams. Her eyes remained shut or focused straight ahead. She went into every detail from his murder, to hers, to the destruction but went into the most detail about the dream she had had the other day. It was the dream about the Paris restaurant and the CIA and everything (AN-if you don't remember her dreaming this, it's in Chapter 2) After she had finished, she cleared her throat and looked at him.
No eye contact was made back. Somewhere in the middle of her tale, he had shifted so his back leaned against the headboard. He couldn't face her anymore. The wrinkles on his brow were more intense as he listened, pushing his own emotions down. His face faced forward and he concentrated on a little nick in the wall. It took a moment for this to sink. She had been dreaming of him for months. Almost three months. Did she realize how he felt? Did she feel the same way? The dinner was too much. Why the hell did he listen to Weiss? He hadn't listened to him since training, now six years later he started to do it again? Figures. The one recent time he listened, he had gotten himself screwed. "Tell her how you feel." Weiss said, "You should have taken that hotel room, man." "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Weiss was such an idiot sometimes!
Vaughn sighed and forced himself into the present. It took a moment for him to speak. He kept running his hands over face, obviously thinking of a careful reply. She couldn't tell if he was panicking or honestly flustered or annoyed. He became so unreadable at that moment. It took ages for him to turn his head down, back to the blanket, over her body and then up to her face. His eyes finally rested on her face as he turned his head towards her. His green eyes were no longer cloudy or fuzzy. They were crisp and cool. He licked his lips and to her, it was one of the most seductive things he could have done at that moment. "Let's go get something to eat. We need to take a walk and talk. But we need to get out of the hotel room. I'm hungry. You hungry? I think we just need to sit down with a good cup of coffee and some pastries and we'll talk." He out of the bed and looked at the digital clock on the nightstand as her jaw dropped. It was 10:45 in the morning. His hands went over his face as he tried to cope with what she just said and then his reply. Did he say the right thing? He finally stopped his thoughts for a moment and faced her. "Yeah?" He answered his own question.
"Yeah, that'd be nice." She watched him for a moment and was surprised at how soft and fragile her voice sounded. Sydney swung her legs to one side of the bed and slowly got to her feet. Her body was weak, maybe from exhaustion or maybe because she was weak in the knees from Vaughn. She tried too smile a little bit at him, blinking away any tears.
"I'll take a bug killer with me and then we can talk." He leaned down and started to rummage through one of the suitcases in search for a set of clothing. It took him a moment longer than expected, wanting to hurry and get changed. He found a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt. He held one article of clothing in each hand and looked at Sydney once more, "Lemme get changed and then we'll go down to the café, relax and talk about this." As he finished, he ducked into the bathroom to change.
"Okay." She sat at the very edge of the bed, mascara dripping down her face, intertwined with tears. Her mouth had fallen open slightly and her eyebrows lifted in question. Her hands wiped her face once more and she got out of bed. Things were a lot clearer now than they were just ten hours ago. Well, at least she could see straight. Her throat was cleared as she walked over to the suitcase and found a simple, white thin strapped sundress. With full knowledge that Vaughn was in the bathroom, she quickly undressed and slipped into the light cotton material. It flowed over the curves of her body and she reached over to find a pair of white flip-flops to accompany the casual feel of the dress. Digging deeper into the case, she found a brush, to which she promptly ran through her hair and scoffed at her stringy brown locks. She had to put that horrible wig on. She would slowly ease out of wearing it or dye her hair, one of the two. Glancing carelessly at the mirror, she realized what a sight she looked like. "I look like crap." She said to her reflection. If reflections could talk, she was sure it would reply, "That's for damn sure." She ran her hand under her eye and looked at the black line formed on her hand and she scoffed. Vaughn couldn't possible see her as attractive in the state she was in. But then again, he was at his sexiest when he was all over the place. The curve of her mouth managed to tug up a little as she thought of him, put together yet falling apart at the seams. He was gorgeous no matter what.
"That is for damn sure." Sydney spoke louder than before to the un- answering reflection.
"Ja saw something?" Vaughn called from the bathroom over the water running in the sink.
"Nothing." She called back and turned towards the door. He had truly panicked when she told him about the nightmare. Her arms crossed over her body and she starred down at her feet. Her body wasn't as tire as she thought it would be but she still leaned against the oak dresser. All she could do was attempt to keep her mind clear and ready to talk about anything and everything with him.
Vaughn dressed quickly and stood in front of the big black marble sink and oval mirror. He examined his features closely and quickly discovered that he hadn't shave in two days. Sydney couldn't possibly find him remotely attractive in the state that he was in. He was exhausted and after a few hours of sleeping off the drugs, he had laid awake thinking about her and what had happened and what could happen. His eyes focused back in on themselves. Why did it have to be this way? He had fallen in love with her, hard, and now, he had laid in the same bed with her and could do absolutely nothing about it. He reflected for a moment the dream he had been awoken from. It was simple and sweet. He and Sydney were in the warehouse and after a long conversation of nothing, she leaned towards him to give him a paper or a number or something but instead, he moved so he stood right in front of her. And before he knew it, his lips were pressed to hers and her hands were wrapped up in his hair and his jacket. They didn't go any further for he heard and felt screams of panic and was brought back into the cruel reality that he was now living. *That was definitely the wrong answer. I should have sat down with her, in that bed, and just talked her dreams out. Why did I suggest we should go to breakfast? I feel like I'm back in freaking in High School. How much does that suck? I hated high school. I was the skinny French kid that didn't score until I was eighteen!* Reluctantly and with a new feeling of dread and self-pity, he opened the door. His eyes moved slowly until they reached Sydney, examining the folds on the bed carefully with as much concentration as she attacked everyday with. She didn't notice him for a moment and he was allowed to look her body over.
She felt his eyes on her and turned her head. "Lemme chip this off of my face and we can go down. I need food. I haven't eaten since two days ago. Right? Yeah cause yesterday I got up and then it happened and then we were on the plane, took the sleeping pills and somehow ended up here." She spoke rapidly as she made her way past him, leaving the door open as she washed her face, glancing up now and then to see Vaughn still standing in the doorway. She turned to put on make-up but discovered the case was still in her luggage.
"Looking for this?" Vaughn had disappeared for a moment and reappeared with a small black bag overrun with make-up. She smiled a grateful smile and took it front his outstretched hand. She turned back and started to wash the black off of her face and with it, all the dreams. When she had finished washing it off, reapplied it, and applied her wig (still sitting in the bathroom), Vaughn had walked further into the door. "Perfect." He mumbled.
"Yeah, I guess this will have to do for Portia." She smiled and glanced backwards into the mirror once more. "Right."
"You're perfect, Sydney." Vaughn walked closer and brought her close to his body. "Come here for a minute." They rocked back and forth until her breathing matched his breathing pattern. He inhaled deeply her scent of salty tears and Italian perfume. He wanted to stay like that for a while, his hands on the small of her back and her hands around her neck. She filled the empty space like a puzzle piece lost from its box and then joyfully found one rainy day. Her tears being the rain, her the puzzle and him the finder.
She smiled at the stubble on his cheek. The tears threatened to come to her eyes again. She had fallen for the one man she couldn't have, and she had gotten to the point where she didn't know if she could wake up every morning and know that she could never have him. She pressed herself closer, wanting to get the last bit of smell impressed into her clothing but as the electricity grew into a fire in her heart, she started to pull back, letting him know it was time to go back to reality. "Let's go." She whispered into his neck, sniffling slightly.
He straightened up. Maybe he could never have her but they were still "married" and had to act like it in public. Maybe he could never have her for real but what dreams may come. He straightened up and watched her regain all the elegance of a ballet dancer. They moved towards the door in sync with the music that filled their hearts at each other's touch and walked towards the door, his arm around her waist and hers around his back. "Let's go."
AN: Thanks for all the reviews! I hope you liked this chapter, it's my fave so far!!! I promise the big twist is coming that will shock you all! Thanks again and Read and REVIEW!!!!