A/N: I have to give the biggest shout out ever to Elektra. She seriously
saved my ass. Most of the ideas were hers, cause I had absolutely no idea
how to write this chapter. You can also thank her for the pumped up angst,
cause what I had written before was non descriptive. But, thanks to her
welcome prodding, I managed to get something better out. I happen to be
extremely proud of this chapter, cause it was so fun to write. Thanks
Elektra, for staying up until 2 in the morning to finish this with me.
"Agent Vaughn, you can come in now," Dr. Barnett called from behind the partially opened door. He pushed it open and settled himself in the chair he had come to loathe sitting in.
The doctor settled her glasses on the bridge of her nose before glancing at the Vaughn. The fist thing she noticed was the absence of the sling on his left arm. "How's the shoulder?"
Vaughn shifted the shoulder in question and had to catch himself to stop from wincing. "Better."
"So how is Ms. Bristow doing?" she asked, getting used to the question she seemed to be asking quite often.
"Sydney stopped eating a couple days ago. Will and I do everything we can to get her to eat, but it's been very difficult because as soon as she gets home from work, she falls asleep. And she sleeps until her alarm goes off. On her day off yesterday, I called in around 3 to see if she was ok, and she had been sleeping all day. I know that's a symptom of depression, and Will and I are doing everything we can to lift her mood. It only works occasionally."
Dr. Barnett stared him down, eyes cast over with worry. "Has she exhibited any suicidal behavior?"
Vaughn returned the gaze easily, and answered a with a firm "No."
But he was lying.
***She thought he didn't notice the powder she slipped into his drink, but he did. He pretended to down the whole glass, but he didn't. It was something they taught everyone early at Langley, how to avoid being poisoned, and he had aced the course.
So she thought he passed out after dinner while he was heading toward the bed to lay down, because his head was starting to hurt. She was kind enough to help him finish the journey, hoisting his legs onto the mattress and sitting beside him. She kissed his lips gently while stroking his cheek, and it was all he could do to not kiss her back.
"I love you, but I can't stand this any longer. Please forgive me."
He watched through slit eyelids as she approached the window. Resting one balled fist against the glass, he could see the tears falling down her cheeks by the moonlight. Her jaw moved, and she spoke, for what she thought would be the last time.
"Oh god Francie. I never wanted to put you in danger, and I was selfish to let you get so close to me. I killed you, just like I killed Danny. I have to end this now, so I don't kill Vaughn or Will or anyone else. I love you so much, sweetie." She moved her fist back, and punched the window, shattering a pane and leaving a dangerously jagged shard close to her hand.
Vaughn decided then was the time to move, so he leapt off the bed to stop her. She, however, didn't want to be stopped. The tears kept coming faster, and she clutched the glass so tightly in her palm that blood dripped onto the windowsill. "Don't come near me Vaughn. I need to do this."
He could feel the tears pushing themselves at his eyes, but he shook them away. He needed to be able to see. Slowly moving closer, he whispered to her, "You really think you need to kill yourself to protect me?"
She backed away, the piece of glass still in her fist dripping blood. Her back was against a wall, and she felt completely cornered and alone. "It's the only way."
He shook his head, and continued to approach her slowly. "No, Syd, it's not. Think of how selfish you're being! You want to leave everyone that loves you behind? I don't know how I can live without you. So if you die, I die." He picked another shard up by the window. "We can go together, but I want to be holding you. Please, don't deny me that."
She shook her head firmly, the tears spraying everywhere. "No. You don't need to die, Vaughn. You can find someone else to love, to hold you at night. This is the end for me. Please, put it down."
He shook his head, determined to go with her. "No. Either I die with you in my arms, or not. If this is the end for you, then it's the end for me. You give me everything I need to live for Sydney, and only you can give that to me. You die, I die." He started to press the glass against the delicate skin of his wrist, but her frantic yell stopped him from actually cutting it.
"No!" The bloodied shard dropped from her grasp as she lurched forward and grabbed Vaughn by his neck. He let go of the glass immediately and hugged her tight. Her legs chose that moment to give out on her, and all of her weight was set in his embrace. She was whispering feverishly, clinging to him. "You can't die. You can't die." He wasn't used to so much weight on his shoulder, and had to sit her on the bed. He only left her there for a moment, though.
Scooping her shaking form into his arms, he carried her to his car and deposited her in the passenger seat. It was difficult, considering he had been shot in the shoulder barely two months before, but he managed it.
They spent the night at his apartment, arms wrapped securely around her waist, and positioned away from any windows.***
Careful not to cloud his expression at the memory, Vaughn kept his eyes just above the doctor's head. If he told her the truth, the complete story, they would have Sydney in confinement so fast his head would spin. She didn't need that.
Dr. Barnett's voice cut across his thoughts, nagging him accusingly. "I can't help her if you don't tell me everything."
Vaughn's expression hardened into a cool mask that reminded Dr. Barnett of the elder Bristow, and she sighed in frustration. They were so alike sometimes it nearly scared her.
"Jack took away her field clearance temporarily, and she didn't even care. No yelling, protesting, hell, she didn't even complain. All she did was nod her head and continued working on reports." He was glad when Jack did it, but was not happy with her reaction. It gave him the feeling he lost her.
"That doesn't sound like Ms. Bristow."
Vaughn chuckled grimly. "The Sydney I know would be yelling furiously at me, Jack, Kendall, anyone. She likes to think she can handle anything. This Sydney.she just doesn't care."
Dr. Barnett nodded solemnly. "It's a common symptom of depression. Everything you've said is a common symptom, which surprises me. I would have thought Ms. Bristow to be more original. The best treatment is counseling, but you've mentioned that she refuses. Do you think she'll be willing to talk about it with you?"
Vaughn considered the thought for a moment before nodding. "Yes, we've been through a lot. She trusts me. I'll try to get her to talk."
Dr. Barnett smiled gently. "When you were missing in Taipei, she referred to you as the only person she trusted. I'm glad that's still the case."
Vaughn rose stiffly from the straight-backed chair, grateful to be out of time. "I need to get back to the Ops center. Someone will have another report for you in a few days."
The doctor nodded up to him, dismissing him. As he was walking out of the building, his cell phone rang.
"Christopher's Window Pane Service. You have a broken window?"
"Agent Vaughn, you can come in now," Dr. Barnett called from behind the partially opened door. He pushed it open and settled himself in the chair he had come to loathe sitting in.
The doctor settled her glasses on the bridge of her nose before glancing at the Vaughn. The fist thing she noticed was the absence of the sling on his left arm. "How's the shoulder?"
Vaughn shifted the shoulder in question and had to catch himself to stop from wincing. "Better."
"So how is Ms. Bristow doing?" she asked, getting used to the question she seemed to be asking quite often.
"Sydney stopped eating a couple days ago. Will and I do everything we can to get her to eat, but it's been very difficult because as soon as she gets home from work, she falls asleep. And she sleeps until her alarm goes off. On her day off yesterday, I called in around 3 to see if she was ok, and she had been sleeping all day. I know that's a symptom of depression, and Will and I are doing everything we can to lift her mood. It only works occasionally."
Dr. Barnett stared him down, eyes cast over with worry. "Has she exhibited any suicidal behavior?"
Vaughn returned the gaze easily, and answered a with a firm "No."
But he was lying.
***She thought he didn't notice the powder she slipped into his drink, but he did. He pretended to down the whole glass, but he didn't. It was something they taught everyone early at Langley, how to avoid being poisoned, and he had aced the course.
So she thought he passed out after dinner while he was heading toward the bed to lay down, because his head was starting to hurt. She was kind enough to help him finish the journey, hoisting his legs onto the mattress and sitting beside him. She kissed his lips gently while stroking his cheek, and it was all he could do to not kiss her back.
"I love you, but I can't stand this any longer. Please forgive me."
He watched through slit eyelids as she approached the window. Resting one balled fist against the glass, he could see the tears falling down her cheeks by the moonlight. Her jaw moved, and she spoke, for what she thought would be the last time.
"Oh god Francie. I never wanted to put you in danger, and I was selfish to let you get so close to me. I killed you, just like I killed Danny. I have to end this now, so I don't kill Vaughn or Will or anyone else. I love you so much, sweetie." She moved her fist back, and punched the window, shattering a pane and leaving a dangerously jagged shard close to her hand.
Vaughn decided then was the time to move, so he leapt off the bed to stop her. She, however, didn't want to be stopped. The tears kept coming faster, and she clutched the glass so tightly in her palm that blood dripped onto the windowsill. "Don't come near me Vaughn. I need to do this."
He could feel the tears pushing themselves at his eyes, but he shook them away. He needed to be able to see. Slowly moving closer, he whispered to her, "You really think you need to kill yourself to protect me?"
She backed away, the piece of glass still in her fist dripping blood. Her back was against a wall, and she felt completely cornered and alone. "It's the only way."
He shook his head, and continued to approach her slowly. "No, Syd, it's not. Think of how selfish you're being! You want to leave everyone that loves you behind? I don't know how I can live without you. So if you die, I die." He picked another shard up by the window. "We can go together, but I want to be holding you. Please, don't deny me that."
She shook her head firmly, the tears spraying everywhere. "No. You don't need to die, Vaughn. You can find someone else to love, to hold you at night. This is the end for me. Please, put it down."
He shook his head, determined to go with her. "No. Either I die with you in my arms, or not. If this is the end for you, then it's the end for me. You give me everything I need to live for Sydney, and only you can give that to me. You die, I die." He started to press the glass against the delicate skin of his wrist, but her frantic yell stopped him from actually cutting it.
"No!" The bloodied shard dropped from her grasp as she lurched forward and grabbed Vaughn by his neck. He let go of the glass immediately and hugged her tight. Her legs chose that moment to give out on her, and all of her weight was set in his embrace. She was whispering feverishly, clinging to him. "You can't die. You can't die." He wasn't used to so much weight on his shoulder, and had to sit her on the bed. He only left her there for a moment, though.
Scooping her shaking form into his arms, he carried her to his car and deposited her in the passenger seat. It was difficult, considering he had been shot in the shoulder barely two months before, but he managed it.
They spent the night at his apartment, arms wrapped securely around her waist, and positioned away from any windows.***
Careful not to cloud his expression at the memory, Vaughn kept his eyes just above the doctor's head. If he told her the truth, the complete story, they would have Sydney in confinement so fast his head would spin. She didn't need that.
Dr. Barnett's voice cut across his thoughts, nagging him accusingly. "I can't help her if you don't tell me everything."
Vaughn's expression hardened into a cool mask that reminded Dr. Barnett of the elder Bristow, and she sighed in frustration. They were so alike sometimes it nearly scared her.
"Jack took away her field clearance temporarily, and she didn't even care. No yelling, protesting, hell, she didn't even complain. All she did was nod her head and continued working on reports." He was glad when Jack did it, but was not happy with her reaction. It gave him the feeling he lost her.
"That doesn't sound like Ms. Bristow."
Vaughn chuckled grimly. "The Sydney I know would be yelling furiously at me, Jack, Kendall, anyone. She likes to think she can handle anything. This Sydney.she just doesn't care."
Dr. Barnett nodded solemnly. "It's a common symptom of depression. Everything you've said is a common symptom, which surprises me. I would have thought Ms. Bristow to be more original. The best treatment is counseling, but you've mentioned that she refuses. Do you think she'll be willing to talk about it with you?"
Vaughn considered the thought for a moment before nodding. "Yes, we've been through a lot. She trusts me. I'll try to get her to talk."
Dr. Barnett smiled gently. "When you were missing in Taipei, she referred to you as the only person she trusted. I'm glad that's still the case."
Vaughn rose stiffly from the straight-backed chair, grateful to be out of time. "I need to get back to the Ops center. Someone will have another report for you in a few days."
The doctor nodded up to him, dismissing him. As he was walking out of the building, his cell phone rang.
"Christopher's Window Pane Service. You have a broken window?"