An Undefinable Sweetness
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Yostamaca:You are my god too... haha your reviews make me laugh (i'm glad at least one person got the humor in the fake TBC in Mornings)
Andi Horton: No problem, I hope you're feeling better (you're terrific too!)
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39.
Her eyes were open wide in horror that she was unable to stop, couldn't hold it in for the life of her, felt it spilling out of her system, gates crashing down. She saw the body thud and fall heavily from the safety of the door, saw the familiar tousled blond hair...
The next two shots that fired took Sloane down but she didn't notice, couldn't even see her victory because she could feel the word crumbling in front of her very eyes. She ignored the rising dust, the flood of people rushing in, leaving the first body forgotten and lying in the rubble.
Choking back a sob, she didn't move as she felt the heavy blanket fall from her shoulders and slide onto the ground. She merely walked on the solid concrete, acutely aware of the effort it took to take each step closer.
She sunk to her knees, eyes open in wonderment and a lack of comprehension. And then the tears came as she saw the blood splattered all over his shirt, soaking through the fabric and wetting the ground. She bent her head towards his face, eyes looking at his closed ones, willing them to open, willing his lax face to revive and come to life once more. Even as she felt a sort of guilty relief. But then it was swallowed by her sorrow and she felt the pain run acutely through her.
She leaned on her palms, rocking back and forth in silent suffering though there was something inside of her telling her that there was something more.She brought her forehead to his, eyes closing in pain as she felt how it was still warm from the life that had been so abruptly taken from him. "This wasn't supposed to happen," she whispered fiercely, pressing back the tears. "You weren't supposed to end up like this." She leaned a little harder on him, begging him to take off some of the weight that held her captive, dragged her down, consumed her.
And then she felt eyes watching her, the hairs on her neck prickled slightly as she felt the gaze from behind her. Getting off of her hands, she turned slowly around. And saw him standing there with an unsure expression on his face, his hand lifted mere inches from her shoulder as if he was about to lay it there. There was a small cut above his eye and he stood anxiously as if unsure of his place in life. His place in her life.
She was speechless, the words stuck in her mouth and throat as she saw the uncertainty fly across his face. She knew what he was thinking.
She took his hand in hers, tugging slightly, asking him to come down to her, needing him there. He sunk to her side, still confused, still worried as she broke down sobbing, seeking comfort in his arms.
And then he remembered himself and remembered her and brought his arms tightly around her, patting her head softly and brushing away her tears with the pad of his thumb, his heart breaking while she wept.
"Syd..."
"Don't." Her words were sure, there was no room for any questions. She needed him to hold her, needed to feel the circle of his arms clasping her to him with the same urgency that she felt pulsing through her right now. She looked up at him, eyes shining with tears and she looked at his face. "I thought it was you."
Michael looked at her, saw the strains receding from her face as she took in every detail.
"I thought that it was your body and I couldn't find you and I thought that he shot you..." She shuddered slightly, placing her arms around him and hugging him with such ferociousness that all he could do was let her. "And then I walked closer and I saw his hair and I felt sure in my heart that it was you lying there bleeding on the floor." Her sobs were laced with a kind of wonderment.
She kissed him lightly, as if making sure that he was real and not a figment of her imagination. "It's you."
Vaughn nodded. "It's me. Sydney, I would never leave you. You have to believe that." He brought her trembling hand to his lips and kissed them all the while keeping eye contact. "Syd... we should go."
She nodded but turned back to the man lying in front of her, still feeling the sorrow fresh across her heart. She spoke to Vaughn though she didn't look at him, almost as if it were an afterthought. "I saw him lying there and I felt happiness. How awful is that? I was glad that he wasn't you. And then I realized that it didn't matter that he wasn't you because he was himself. And then the injustice of it all just hit me; he didn't deserve this fate, Michael."
"I know sweetie." The guilt gnawed at him even as he thanked the heavens that this had not been his doing. He would never have been able to take it; seeing her go through such raw suffering would have killed him.
She brushed the hair away from the cold forehead, ran a finger along his slight scar. "He didn't deserve this, Michael. He died again and it was my fault; no person should have to go through that twice."
He didn't know whether she was talking about herself or not but knew that it would still be true either way.
He pressed his lips against her hair, an act of comfort she didn't know she needed until she received it. She brought a hand to her shoulder and held his, feeling a unity that she hadn't had in a long time.
And so this is how it ended.
She clenched her jaw to stop her face from contracting from her tears and she pressed open a closed eyelid. After verfying the color, she mutely let it close again. Her hand raised and went down to the neckline of his shirt and pressed it down until she saw the small birthmark surrounded by freckles. Danny had wanted her to be sure.
She was sure. She turned her head to look back at Vaughn and he somehow sensed a change over her, knew she was ready. He lifted her up gently and walked with her back into the crowd, knowing that she wouldn't want to talk while tears were still so close to the surface.
They ignored the other people around them though they had started celebrating and questioning and talking already. The only thing that Sydney was sure of was Vaughn's arm wrapped so securely around her shoulders and the inexplicable happiness that he was there to give her such support.
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It wasn't until later that night that she loosened up a bit and turned back into the Sydney he knew. She walked up behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist, kissed the nape of his neck so that she could be sure that it was him under her fingers, that she was fortunate enough to have him there.
He turned to her, lightly pressing his lips against her forehead. "Sydney, are you all right?"
She looked up at him and behind the sorrow that still lurked, he saw a brightness that he had missed, the brightness that had first caused him to fall in love with Sydney Bristow and the brightness that had given him hope for their future.
"Michael-" The name still sounded unfamiliar to her lips. "I almost lost you today. And I just can't let you stand there thinking about what you saw. I love you. With all my heart, with all the strength of my being, I love you."
He smiled at her, remembering that morning only a few months ago when he had first declared his feelings for her. He kissed her lightly and stroked her cheek. "I love you too Syd."
Her eyes closed and he knew that no matter what else happened, he had to be there for her tonight. And for all the nights following that. "Please don't stop kissing me. I have to know that you're still here." He grinned a little though he was a little chagrined at the outcome of the day; this day that was to represent the new beginning of their lives together. Had begun with death.
And though the love was there, was present between the two of them, their kisses were filled more with urgency, the need for the knowledge of existence, the want of the other person just to know that one wasn't alone in the world. When it started getting too pressed, He held her hands, pulling back. "Syd, I don't think that tonight is the best night for-"
Mutely she placed a finger softly against his lips, silencing his words. With a searching look on her face, she slowly, silently, traced the outline of his lips, the soft skin of his eyelids, the contours of his face. And then she traced the path her finger had taken with her own lips not for the sake of kissing but for remembrance; to have the feeling of this one moment forever. She reached his lips, hesitating when there was only a breath left between them. She laid a hand on his chest, felt the steady, if slightly accelerated, beat of his heart.
Looking at her hand and then at him, she locked eyes with his own, letting her gaze break down all of his arguments, letting him understand the feelings that had gone through her as she lightly let her lips land on his. Still watching him, she let her free hand drop to the first button on his shirt, unfastening it with her fingers and letting her touch sear the skin that showed through. Button by button, she released him, letting her hands roam over every inch of his chest, making sure that should she lose him in the next instant, she could remember the touch and the feel of him as both etched themselves into her memory and the tips of her fingers.
He stood still, knowing that he was doing all that he could be doing merely standing there in front of her. With every kiss he felt her pain, her relief, the absolute fear of losing another love battling with the emotion even more intense: the fear of losing love itself. With the touch of her fingers he felt himself only connecting more with her and now understood thoroughly her pain, felt as if he were helping her by taking some of it for himself. Michael looked down at the top of her head, kissed her hair as she pressed her lips against his heartbeat, wanting to memorize every beat, wanting to synchronize it with her own.
It wasn't about lust when he eased her own shirt over her head, it wasn't desire that caused him to trace the length of her with his lips, wasn't the mere want for physical contact. Tonight, it wasn't even about love; not mainly about love. It was the revelation that the other could be gone in an instant; it was the reassurance to themselves that the other was still there, lying next to them.
Afterwards, with the smooth sheets wrapped around her, with Vaughn's arm wrapped tightly around her, her eyes were open in thought. The tension had slowly eased itself out of her body, leaving her feeling mainly gratitude. Her life had not fallen apart; she had not lost the love of her life. Feeling his thumb tracing her stomach in slow circles, she felt whole again; realizing that today was the day when everything she had ever wanted had come into place. That everything she needed was still within her reach.
Her voice softly broke through the silence that lay between them. "Michael?"
There was a slight pause before he answered."Yeah?"
"I thought I lost you today."
His arm tightened around her. "You didn't. I'm right here and I promise you you'll never lose me.
"I won't let you."
She nodded, feeling his kiss on her neck.
"Michael?"
"Mm?"
And another pause as if each were unwilling to let the perfection of silence go. As if with silence came the cessation of time and they knew that they wouldn't mind staying like this for eternity.
She felt his warm breath on her shoulder, knew that he was waiting for her to speak again.
"I'm pregnant."
TBC
Say the word and I'll rewrite this chapter.
This one has actually been the hardest one that I have ever written and I'm not sure if I'm completely satisfied with it yet. Just tell me... I didn't pre-write but I did do a LOT of deleting and re-writing.
Sorry if you guys wanted to be warned about the slight smuttiness but I didn't really think of it as smut becuase it isn't about sex itself but more of a reassurance that the other is still alive, knowing that they could have lost one another... Which you know because i wrote that enough times :)
Hope you liked it... (Relieved?)
review~ (1-2 left)
-Jenn
