A/N: Sorry there hasn't been an update in a while. Hopefully this one will move faster in the future. Ok, I also have to inform everyone that as of right now, I'll be writing this alone. Elektra and I settled our problems before, but now she simply has a bad case of writer's block and will be taking a break from this until she gets her juices flowing again. ;-) She wrote most of this chap. Though, so credit goes to her for that. :-)
Smoke and Mirrors~ Part 2
Vaughn and I sat there for what seemed like a very long time, neither of us
speaking. We both cried a little, he for his mother and I because it hurt me to
see him so sad. All I could think to do by way of comfort was to hold him
tightly and hope it helped.
When at last we drew apart, I saw from a quick glance at my watch that only
forty-five minutes had passed since I'd left home. Still, we had missed our
flight. I supposed we'd be in serious trouble with Kendall in
the morning. I found I really didn't care... there were more important things
to worry about at the moment.
I stood up from the bed. "Come on, Michael. You need to get out of here
for a while."
He stood as well, giving me a bewildered look. "And go where? It's getting
late, there aren't many places open at this hour."
"This place is always open to us. Come on, let's go."
He followed me wordlessly. We only paused long enough for me to retrieve my
purse, and he his apartment keys. Moments later we were in my car, heading for
our destination. Vaughn was still silent, but more composed than earlier.
Just ten minutes later, we arrived. I got out of the car, finding the
long-unused key on my key ring. Only as he waited beside me as I opened the
door did Vaughn comment on anything.
"Sydney, we haven't been here in ages. What are we doing here?"
We went inside, opened the gate, and sat on the crates, now thick with dust.
They obviously hadn't been moved since we'd last been here. It was nice to know
that, to discover that no one else had been given the use of this place for
their meetings. It still belonged to us.
"I thought you might like to come here because it's so quiet, and private.
And special to us, too. I thought you might be able to focus better here. If
you want, we could go..." I was rambling, afraid he had misunderstood my
intentions. But he looked me straight in the eye for the first time that night
as he answered.
"No, this is nice. Thank you, Sydney." He sighed heavily and rested his head on his hands.
"My uncle said the funeral will probably be in three days. He said he'd
call when the arrangements were final." He looked at me again. "Will
you come with me?"
"Of course I will. How come your uncle is planning things, and not you? I
mean, I thought the child of the person usually did those kind of things."
"Mom asked him to, a long time ago. I guess after what happened to Dad,
all that she went through, she wanted to spare me from that." Vaughn
paused as a shadow passed over my face. He looked down, clearly sorry he'd
brought up the subject of his father so casually.
"I'm sorry, Syd. You know by now that I've never blamed you for what your
mother did to him. To this day I can't figure out why she did it. I never saw
our parents together when they would have dinner together and things like that.
They usually went out. But I knew they were friends. They worked together on
missions too sometimes, from what I could tell. It doesn't make any
sense."
"I know. There are times I wish we had met before our families fell
apart.... maybe we could have helped each other then, too. But at least I still
get to see my mother, sometimes. That prison isn't the place for private
discussions by any means, but at least she gets to know that I'm well. I can go
back there next week."
"You never miss the one of those visits, do you?"
His tone seemed almost accusatory, and I looked down, blushing. "No. I
shouldn't have brought this up. But she is still my mother. I know what she did
was wrong, but she's still my mother..."
"I know that, Syd. I'm not asking you to apologize to me for wanting to
see your own mother. I've never tried to make you feel guilty about going
there." His usual gentle tone had returned, and I again had the courage to
look up.
"I know... I'm sorry this came up, especially now. It's just that next
week's visit is especially important to us. It's my birthday, the day I'm
going..."
"Sydney, you don't have to justify yourself to me. "
I sighed. "Thank you."
Michael nodded sadly, then stood. "I'm finally feeling halfway calm, and
now I realize I'm starving. Would you mind if we went somewhere to eat, or
picked something up? I mean, if you're in a hurry to get home to get some
sleep..."
"Sleep can wait. Let's go."
~~~~~~~~
The day of Serena Vaughn's funeral dawned chilly, the sun mostly hiding behind
low, dark grey clouds. These had lifted a bit by noon, when we mourners left the church for the short drive to
the cemetery. That part of the ceremony was brief, and all but Vaughn, myself
and his Uncle Adam scattered when it ended.
We tried making conversation, but it was awkward. I felt like an intruder on
their grief. More than that... my own mother had been responsible for the
funeral of this woman's husband, the man she'd loved. I felt this was the
last place I should be. The church service had been easier than being here,
standing at her graveside.
I tried to excuse myself gracefully, but I saw concern leap into Vaughn's eyes
when he saw my own expression. So I stayed, trying to hide my feelings. The
last thing Vaughn needed today was to worry about me. His uncle seemed very taken
with me. He certainly seemed nice, and it was a good thing to finally meet some
of Vaughn's own family, even though I wish it had been under better
circumstances.
After a few more minutes, we left. Vaughn admitted that all he really wanted
was to go home and rest, so I had him drop me off at home. I let go of his
hand, which had been tightly clasped in my own during the whole funeral, and
watched him walk into his building. I didn't see him again during that week, as
he'd been given a few days off. Before I knew it, it was Monday, and visiting
day with my mother had arrived.
I still get a little nervous every
visiting day. She's still your mother... I
have a habit of repeating that over and over whenever I see her. That's because
sometimes, especially lately when I look at her, I don't see my mother. I see a
stranger.
Of course, it is her, still. She's just very changed. She's missed my growing
up. She tells me I've grown into a beautiful woman, and I feel flattered,
despite the things I know she's done. But underneath her pride in me, I hear
something else. Bitterness and despair. I think I know what has changed for
her. She used to hope she'd still get out of this place, and now it seems the
hope has left her. So I come... because I do still love her.... and I know that
my visits are the only thing in the world she looks forward to.
At last, I arrive in the visiting room. She's in the high security wing, and of
course we aren't allowed a hug or even the simplest physical contact. We both
regret that, but there is nothing to be done about it. A moment later, my
mother is brought in. She sits down on the other side of the Plexiglas barrier
and smiles, wishing me happy birthday, and telling me how she's missed me.
"I've missed you too, Mom. How are you?" That always seems like a
stupid thing to ask.... but the habits of small talk don't go easily.
"The same," she whispers. That is always her answer, and it never
fails to make me feel sad. But today she has more to say. "You look tired,
and sad. What's going on?"
"I'm okay..." I answered slowly. Then I admitted it. "It's Vaughn... his mother died a couple of days ago. I just came from her funeral."
I swear, right then, I saw something.... something in my mother's eyes. They flashed just for a moment, then her shroud slipped back on. "Oh."
That's when I allowed myself to get angry. My emotion finally seeped through and I realized the audacity of the situation. This woman... this monster... "His mother is dead."
She nodded, silent.
"No, you don't understand, Irina. His parents are gone. He lost his father when he was eight years old. Now the woman who took care of him and sheltered him alone through all those years is gone. I'm all he has left. And it's because of you," the words were escaping from my mouth as if under possession. I couldn't stop them.
"You took his life away when he was eight, before he had a chance to live it. All he had was his mother..." my voice was cracking, overflowing with emotion. "Something I never had." There, I said it. "I hope you're happy with what you've done."
My eyes were stinging and I knew what was coming. I couldn't let her see me cry. Without looking back up at her, I turned around and told the guard I was through. The steel doors slid open and I continued walking, but I could feel her eyes following me away.
Those eyes were begging and screaming to tell a secret, release the truth.
I couldn't allow myself to listen.
END PART TWO
