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Bleed For Me – Part 3
By Abby O. (abbyo3@hotmail.com)

* * * * * * *

 "I'm moving on and last I can see

Life has been patiently waiting for me

And I know there's no guarantees, but I'm not alone

There comes a time in everyone's life

When all you can see are the years passing by

And I have made up my mind, that those days are gone"

                                                --"I'm Moving On" by Rascal Flats

I carry the last box of belongings to the Subaru and wonder where the hell I was going to fit it. I didn't realize she had so much stuff until I had to make a second run to the U-HAUL store to get more boxes. Kate was moving out today, leaving my life for good, and I'm not sure how I should feel. I certainly hadn't plan for things to turn out like this or for her to get hurt, but I couldn't stand to live a lie. Staying married to a woman while I was in love with another is emotional sacrilege. I did love Kate. She was free-spirited, beautiful, and she loved life...she deserved more than I could ever give her. She deserved to have all of a man's heart, not just half.

The thunder from the oncoming storm couldn't have done any better in setting the atmosphere for this already dreary day. The rain hasn't begun yet, but the clouds have spent the last half hour turning angry shades of grey. I find a spot in the backseat and push the box inside, shutting the door afterwards.

Kate starts to walk down from the porch with presumably her last box and she wordlessly sticks it in the front seat. The door closes with a slam and I come face to face with the woman who's heart I have just broken into a million pieces.

"I guess this is it," I say, not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah," she replies, pulling her cardigan tighter around her.

"Kate, I know you think I'm the biggest jerk in the world, and with good reason, but—"

She smiles and shakes her head. "I don't think you're a jerk, Michael."

Can you say that again? Because I really don't think I heard right. "What?"

"I mean, sure, there was a point in time where I considered buying a voodoo doll, but other than that, I think I understand."

I laugh a little at her voodoo doll comment. I hope she didn't actually get one. "I'm so sorry," I whisper. She sniffles and I see the tears begin to well up. God, please don't cry...

"I've wanted nothing from you since the beginning of this relationship except to follow your heart. I'm..." Deep breath. "...really glad that it seems to have found the right direction."

I pull her into a tight embrace. "Thank you...for everything." For understanding. For unknowingly helping me along the grieving process when Sydney was gone. For everything. We pull away and she fights to keep the corners of her lips upturned.

She reaches out and ruffles my hair. She told me once that she loved doing that. "This better be one hell of a woman, Michael," she comments, laughing through her tears.

"She is, Kate. She is," I assure her softly. I didn't expect this to be so difficult. Maybe if she was less understanding, this would be easier, but that's Kate Fischer for you. She would make another guy very happy one day. Regret fills my head once again and I wish that I didn't have to put her through this.

"I should go..."

"Okay. I guess this is goodbye."

"Bye," she murmurs, kissing me on the cheek. And with that, she gave me one last glance, got into her car, and drove off.

I stand there for what seems like hours, not particularly sure on what to do next. I had no doubts that I had done the right thing. Not one. It just...felt too right. I look at my wedding band and calmly slip it off of my finger. I open my palm and I find myself staring endlessly at it; as if it symbolized the beginning and the end of a chapter of my life. My hands find my pockets once again and I look up at the stormy skies.

Then the rain began to fall.

* * * * * *

"WILL!"

"Hey, you!"

It takes me a split-second to realize that he's scooping me in his arms and lifting my feet off the ground.

"Oh my God, I can't believe it's really you!"

"In the flesh," I grin, kissing his cheek before he sets me back down. I pull him inside and throw his luggage on the floor. "Wow...look at you. You look great!"

"So do you, Syd," he breathes, still holding my hand. It feels so good to see him alive and in one piece. I still have nightmares that involve seeing his bloodied body laying in my bathtub...it reminded me of Danny every single time and the image still terrifies the hell out of me.

We sit on my dad's black leather couch, the fire already going in the fireplace. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"No, I'm okay...the stewardess in the plane treated me well," he grins.

I can't help but laugh. "So, Mr. New Yawk, how's life treating you over there?"

"It's going really good. I asked to be reassigned after..." His face automatically falls. "After you went missing. I needed a change of scenery, and I've always loved New York as a kid."

"That's great, Will. I'm really happy for you. I'll have to visit one day and we can have coffee and read the paper together at a downtown Starbucks," I tease.

"I'm gonna hold you to that, Syd," he chuckles.

The both of us fall silent and his bewildered eyes are trained on my face. "What?"

"I can't believe you're...alive...I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. The Agency—"

I put a comforting hand on his shoulder just feeling thankful that he's even here. "It's okay," I smile.

"How are you dealing with everything?" he asks hesitantly. Uh-oh. It's the stepping-on-egg-shells routine. My father, along with everyone else in the free world, has taught me to hate that. Nevertheless, I know that they only do it because they care about me...and lately, it has died out just a tad.

"I'm hanging in there, you know? Just taking things day to day. Trying to look forward and not look back." I don't want to tell him that the frustration of not knowing what happened to me is driving me insane. Or how I get angry every time I realize that not one person can offer me answers about anything. And most of all, how it hurts to breathe because the man I love isn't here to hold me and tell me that everything will be okay...

"I'm assuming you know about...about Francie."

Francie...it may appear that I've had a long time to deal with her death, but I don't think it has fully sunk in. I often find myself sitting up late at night in my dad's living room, listening to the Beach Boys because she loved the Beach Boys. She was a woman who radiated beauty in every sense of the word, and I am determined to personally deal with the people responsible for her death. "Yes," I finally answer. "I read the report, and I got your message...that night."

Will nods and he is careful not to meet my eyes. "The service was very beautiful. I wish you could've been there."

"Me too," I say sadly. "I half expect her to call my cell phone and ask me to pick up some parsley or something from the store," I laugh ruefully.

"I know."

I blink back the tears threatening their descent on my already assaulted cheeks. "I miss her, Will..."

He takes me in his arms and for the first time in a long time, I feel safe. Even if it's just for a few moments. "I miss her, too."

I cry into his sweater and I'm reminded of the pain I've endured. There are days where I feel like my life ended when I fell unconscious in my apartment that night. I lost my best friend. My other one was nearly killed. And I never made it to Santa Barbara. Instead, I came home to an unfamiliar world that did a complete 180 on me.

"I want my old life back," I sob.

"I know, Syd...you're gonna get through this."

"What makes you so confident?"

"Because you're the strongest person I've ever met and probably ever will meet. And you have a family, blood or not, who loves you very much." He kisses the top of my head and continued to rub my back.

"Thanks, Will," I say softly, shutting my eyes. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too, sweetie."

* * * * * * *

The next day, after grabbing breakfast, Will and I head over to the storage facility that I still haven't finished cleaning out. My dad and Weiss had offered to remove all my belongings from there and keep it at my dad's place until I could get an apartment of my own. But I wanted to do it myself. We arrive at the location and open the garage-like storage door. The pungent smell of dust and time fill my senses as it did the first time I came here.

"This shouldn't take too long," I tell Will. "There isn't much left, as you can see."

"Take all the time you need."

I start taking a few boxes of clothes and shoes to the car, loading them in the trunk. The CD's and my CD player come next followed by kitchen utensils. Will and I spend a good hour packing things into the car and I almost turn to leave until Will brings something to my attention.

"Wait, Syd. There's one more box."

I sit on the cold cement floor and pull up the package, breaking the masking tape open with my nail. I pull the flaps open and am greeted with a picture of a happy couple staring adoringly at each other like fools love.

Vaughn and I.

A part of me wants to just throw it back in the box and never look at it again, but I can't tear my eyes from it. I remember when this picture was taken...at a picnic with Weiss and a few of his family members. He had asked us to tag along because it would be a beautiful day and "no one can resist Eric Weiss's Super Savory Shish Kabobs" (which turned out neither super or savory). Vaughn and I had spent the day together, inseparable. We were trying to sneak away, behind some trees, no less, to avoid kissing in front of Weiss's very animated nephews. When he finally leaned in, we heard the snap of a camera, followed by incessant giggles, and topped off with Weiss screaming after his nephew to give him his camera back.

"What is it, Syd?" Will asks, noticing that I had spaced out.

"Nothing...it's just an old picture frame," I answer, my voice cracking.

Will walks over to me and sits down, his eyes landing on the frame. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I manage to croak out. I continue flipping through the rest of the box's contents and I fight not to lose it when I pull out the next item. "'Z is for Zamboni: A Hockey Alphabet' by Melanie Rose," I read. I run my hands through the cover of the children's book, remembering how amused Vaughn was that I had developed a fascination for zambonis. "He gave me the book one night before we had gone to bed, saying that he just magically found himself in the children's section of a book store one day and this was sitting on the shelf, calling his name."

"Oh, Syd..."

I feel Will rubbing my back as I open the cover and read the inscription that I've read a thousand other times.

S is for how stunningly beautiful you are

Y is for the cute way you yawn in the morning

D is for the way you dance with me

N is for every night we spend together

E is for everyone who wishes they had what we have

Y is for being you

Every moment I spend with you is the best part.

-V

I close my eyes and I can almost see him again, smiling boyishly at me. If I think back even harder, I can almost feel how his skin feels on mine...

"You mean the world to him, Sydney," Will says. "Anyone can see that."

"It was a long time ago. A lot of things have changed."

"And you think his feelings for you have?"

"He's married, Will! What is that supposed to tell me?!"

"You haven't talked to him about all this, have you?"

I turn away and focus my attention on a random dark corner. "I just...can't."

Will nods and he takes the book from me, reading over the inscription once more. After a few lingering moments of silence, he begins to speak. "Do you know what happened to him when you were gone?"

I shake my head as the tears began to subside. Weiss and my father told me only bits and pieces of Vaughn's reaction...that he had begun drinking excessively and alienating himself from everyone and everything around him.

"When he got to your apartment that night, he searched everywhere for you. He was hysterical, Syd, looking in every corner of your house and scouring your neighborhood. Your father tried to calm him down, told him to go home and he just lost it. He punched an investigator for trying to pull him from the scene...hours upon hours after he had arrived, he sat outside on your porch, staring at nothing. Nobody could do anything to ease his pain and in that instant, he just stopped caring about himself. Weiss finally got him to go home and the months after that weren't any better. He spent his days and his nights looking for you, following leads, looking for ways around the dead ends. He barely ate or slept and pretty soon, he was advised by the agency to go to the hospital and sought out treatment. Vaughn separated himself from everyone, including his friends and his family. He grieved a long time for you, Syd. His entire life had ceased to exist the moment you disappeared and even at our most discouraging moments searching for you, he was the one that held out hope. He was the one that vowed never to give up on looking for you."

"Then why did he?" I ask as I try to process all of this information in my head.

"He didn't. He may have moved on with his life in the most technical terms of the word, but he never gave in to the idea of you being dead. He continued his search even after his marriage."

"But...why would he make a life-long commitment to someone else if he kept looking for me?"

"Because if he didn't move on and if you didn't come back, he would've lived his life for nothing...he moved on because he knew that's what you would've done, too. And as much as it hurts, Syd, you know that he's right. You would've wanted him to continue living his life and not sit around wondering whether or not...there was even a reason to live anymore. His life had been torn apart completely and we all knew that it was best for him to try to rebuild." Will lets out a deep sigh, placing the book back into the box. "Don't place all the blame on him, Syd. The guy has gone through a lot, too. We all have."

The car ride home is spent in silence with my head leaning against the window, watching the people we pass and the children playing on the street. I know that Will was right. Everything he said was painfully true and as much as I didn't want to admit it to myself, I did blame Vaughn. I held him responsible for everything going wrong after my return from the dead because I felt so betrayed that he could go and marry someone else. I shut my eyes, basking in the silence. I feel like I can't even look at him. I know that whenever I do, the image of a faceless woman will hover right beside his.

* * * * * * *

End Part 3