Thanks to those of you who reviewed the first chapter. Everyone reading
this, please, please review even if you don't think the story is very good.
Any criticism is welcome (as long as it's not too mean!:). I just want to
know if people are reading, cause I need a bit of reassuring about this
fic.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"So?" Sydney asked impatiently.
"Lie down first," Jack ordered. "You've been sitting up like that for a while, and you look worn out."
"I'm fine," Sydney replied obstinately.
"You're clearly not," Jack sounded annoyed with his daughter. "Now lie down and stop fussing,"
Sydney obeyed, but not without making a few faces at her father. She was not in the habit of taking orders from him, and didn't like the idea of starting now. Jack wisely ignored all this, and when she was comfortable he began.
"After Agent Vaughn took you to the hospital, he called me and told me what had happened. I came at once, and the Director at the CIA was -"
"Wait a minute," Sydney broke in. "Why was Vaughn going to meet me?"
"I was going to be your handler at the CIA," Vaughn told her. Jack nodded, and continued with the story.
"The Director at the CIA was very worried. We thought someone at SD-6 might have over heard our conversation and that Sloane had sent someone to. . . deal with you." Jack phrased this last part delicately, though all three knew exactly what he meant. "I can only assume, since Sloane said or did nothing to me, that the attack on you was completely random and nothing to do with SD-6."
"We didn't think the coma would last long, so I came to visit you every day in the hope that you would wake up and I would be able to answer your questions about SD-6," Vaughn took up the story. "Your father told Sloane that you'd been attacked and that you were in hospital. When you were moved here, he told Sloane that you'd died."
"What did he say?" gasped Sydney.
"He feigned distress, of course," spat Jack. "He offered me condolences, and said you were like a daughter to him."
Seeing that Jack was getting upset and angry, Vaughn took over again.
"I was assigned another agent, and we continued our work towards bringing The Alliance down. We were successful last night. Sloane was there when it happened. We were planning to take him into CIA custody, but he was hit by a stray bullet and died instantly."
Sydney was hit by a sudden realization. "I think that's what the voice meant," she whispered.
"What?" asked the two men in unison.
"This morning when I woke up. . . before I woke up, I mean," Jack and Vaughn looked thoroughly confused. "When I woke up in the dream" Sydney tried again, " I was awake but I hadn't opened my eyes yet. I heard a voice in my head and it told me that it was safe to wake up now. Somehow I must have realized that The Alliance was gone, and I would be safe in the real world."
"I meant to ask you about that, actually," ventured Vaughn. "Something must have triggered you waking up. Maybe it was that you somehow knew about The Alliance and Sloane. . . but I don't know. I'm not sure if that could penetrate into your coma. What happened in the dream just before you woke up?"
"I woke up in the dream just before I woke up here. I've told you that already," Sydney replied, perhaps a little too quickly.
"Agent Vaughn has a good point, Sydney. What happened before you woke up? Before you went to sleep even?"
"I - I don't remember," Sydney flushed a little, and hoped they didn't notice.
"Try harder," Jack persisted. "You remember everything else that happened. Whatever happened before you woke up must have put you in the right state of mind to wake up in the real world."
By this time, Sydney was blushing furiously and didn't dare to raise her eyes to meet Vaughn's. "I don't remember," she repeated. "And I'm really tired now. We can talk about it tomorrow." She punctuated the end of her sentence with a yawn, which was mostly genuine, but a little exaggerated for good effect.
"Of course," Jack said, getting up to leave. Vaughn smiled at her and followed suit. "Oh, and to answer your other question: Francie and Will are both very well. Francie married Charlie a year ago," saying this, Jack smiled and left, leaving Vaughn to take one last glance at Sydney now sitting up in shock, and follow her father out of the room.
"She *married* him? But he -" Sydney stopped and reminded herself that Charlie's dishonest actions had only been in her head. The real world was going to take some getting used to.
* * *
The next morning, Sydney woke up to the sound of someone bustling around her room. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see that she was alone, save for the busy nurse who was currently rearranging everything she could lay her hands on.
"Where are they?" asked Sydney, her voice still croaky from sleep.
"Who?" asked the nurse. Sydney looked pointedly at the chairs beside her bed. "Oh, you mean Agent Bristow and Agent Vaughn?" Sydney nodded. The nurse laughed. It was a high, almost melodic sound that betrayed her obviously bubbly personality, and made Sydney like her instantly. "They had to work!" she exclaimed. "They can't be here all the time you know, they've got jobs to do!" she glanced round at Sydney sympathetically, pausing momentarily in drawing the curtains back. "Agent Vaughn promised to stop by later though. And Agent Bristow said he was goin' to call your friends."
"Can I get up?" Sydney asked, pushing herself into a sitting position. The nurse laughed again.
"Get up? You've gotta stay in bed for a few more days 'til you're ready! You don't wanna go makin' yourself worse!"
"I'm fine," Sydney insisted eagerly.
"You only woke up outta your coma yesterday. You've gotta take things slowly," the nurse said, perching herself on the edge of Sydney's bed. She glanced up as the door clicked open. "Well, I've got other rooms to see to," she got up as Francie and Will entered. "You make sure she stays in bed," she warned Will, giving Sydney a meaningful look before leaving.
Armed with flowers, chocolates and a big cardboard box, Francie and Will approached the bed. The three friends had a tearful reunion. Francie repeated over and over how much she loved Sydney, and Sydney cried and cried. She let all the emotions that had been building inside her come pouring out. Anger and confusion, longing and love streamed down her cheeks as salty tears. Will took Sydney in his arms and rocked her slowly back and forth, comforting her as best he could. He pulled Francie into the hug, and they sat there, together, crying and making promises as time passed over their heads.
When they had nothing left to cry, they pulled apart. Will took up one of the chairs; Francie chose to stay closer to Sydney and sat opposite her on the bed.
"What's in the box?" asked Sydney curiously.
"We figured you'd get bored in bed all day," began Will
"So we brought you some books and stuff," finished Francie, lifting the box and bringing it into her lap. Sydney looked into it briefly, and was assured that she wouldn't have much time for boredom. They had provided her with a lot of her books from home, and some new ones too. There was also a pack of cards, and a few board games, though Sydney was not sure she would be able to find someone to play them with her. There were some girly magazines, courtesy of Francie and, guessing that she would be in hospital clothes, they had also thought to bring enough of her own clothes to last her for the rest of her hospital stay, which Jack had told them would probably be a week or two.
When they had finished looking through the box, and Will had found a vase and water for the flowers and was sitting down again, he nudged Francie and muttered something to her that Sydney could not hear. Francie giggled and whispered something back. After a little more persuasion on Will's part, Francie bent down to the floor, where she had left something earlier, and held out a big photo album to Sydney.
"I don't know if you want to see them, but these are my wedding photos," She explained, a little nervously.
"Of course I want to see them!" Sydney exclaimed.
"See, I told you she would," said Will triumphantly.
"Why did you think I wouldn't?" Sydney asked, opening the album but looking at her friend.
"Well, I didn't - I thought maybe you might not want to see them because you weren't there. I thought it might be too painful for you to be reminded that you've been in a coma for two years."
Sydney gave her friend an affectionate look and then replied seriously, "Francie, I admit it is hard to deal with, but I'm going to have to be reminded of it every minute for a long time. I won't deny that I'm finding it difficult and painful right now, but seeing your photos won't make that worse. It might even help me - I want to find out everything that's happened so that I can get past this."
Francie smiled at her, tears coming to her eyes again. She hurriedly blinked them away and moved to sit beside Sydney on the bed. The three of them spent hours exclaiming over memories and photographs of the wedding. Silent tears coursed down Sydney's cheeks when she saw Francie in her beautiful dress and she wished more than anything that she could have been there. They all laughed at the terrified expression on Charlie's face as he danced with Francie's mother and Sydney hid her jealousy when she saw the numerous pictures of Francie and Will together. She should have been there. There should have been pictures of all three of them laughing and dancing together. It was obvious that Francie and Will had become much closer since the accident, and though she knew it was not her fault, she felt guilty that she hadn't been there for Francie's special day. She hated herself for feeling jealous of their close bond, and vowed to herself that she would make up for lost time as quickly and as much as she could.
"It looks like it was perfect," sighed Sydney enviously, when they came to the end of the album.
"It was," Francie smiled. "Almost."
* * *
Vaughn ran a tired hand through his hair and tapped aimlessly at the keyboard. He looked at what he had written so far, and on reading it, promptly deleted it and started again. His mind wasn't on this latest report, and there was nothing he could do to force himself to concentrate. His thoughts drifted once again to the hospital and he wondered for the millionth time if Sydney was awake. He pictured her in his mind; beautiful and fragile, yet full of determination. He'd sat by her side every day for two years. That was seven hundred and thirty days. It hadn't felt like it. At times it had felt longer, but sometimes, the days would fly by as if they were mere minutes. He'd been her most frequent visitor, coming more often and staying longer than even Jack Bristow. At first the hospital staff had been surprised, and wondered why he came so often, but with time they became accustomed to him and his visits became routine, he himself just a part of the furniture in Sydney's little room. Though they seemed it, his visits were never routine to *him*. Every day after work. If he was working late, mornings before work. He never missed a day. He spent both Christmases with his mother, coming home early to visit Sydney, hoping and praying for the kind of Christmas miracle that happens in sentimental movies with fake snow and twinkling lights. Sometimes he imagined her waking up, as he sat there holding her hand, so still she could have been a doll. He imagined the light in her brown eyes, the way her eyes smiled in the picture of her that stood on the table by her bed. He tried to imagine what her voice would sound like, the things she would say and how she would laugh. To begin with, he was just a prospective handler, waiting for his prospective asset to wake up so they could start to work together. He wasn't sure exactly when that had changed, but it had. He had been assigned another agent, yet his visits didn't stop. In fact, they became more frequent. He willed her to wake up, telling himself and her that the CIA needed her. That her father needed her. That he needed her. He added this to his whispered prayers one time, as an afterthought, but as soon as he said it he realized the truth in it. He needed her. And he thought - just maybe - he was falling in love. After that his visits were different. He pleaded with her to come back, not for her sake or her father's sake, but his own. He wasn't sure how it was possible to love someone who's eyes you have never looked into, who's voice you have never heard, but he was sure that he did. He told her the details of his day, the jokes Weiss had made and the arguments he'd had with his temperamental asset. He talked to her about movies and music, hockey and baseball. He carried on lengthy one-sided conversations with her, confiding in her as if she could comfort him.
"You need to tell her," Vaughn was startled by Weiss' voice.
"Need to tell her what?" he stammered when he realised where he was.
"That you're sorry you walked out on her! Jeez, what did you think I was talking about?"
"Huh?" Vaughn was still dazed from being snapped out of his thoughts so suddenly. Weiss rolled his eyes and began again, speaking slowly and patiently as if he was talking to a child.
"You need to tell Simona that you are sorry you yelled at her," he emphasised each word looking closely at Vaughn as he spoke. "And you better hope she forgives you this time, or you're gonna get hell from Kendall when you don't hand that report in,"
Vaughn sighed and mumbled an agreement, finally catching onto his friend. He and his asset, Simona, had had another of their blazing rows the night before. He couldn't even remember what it was about, but he was sure it had something to do with her not following orders and him trying to force her to - it always was. He wondered briefly what Sydney would have been like to work with. She seemed pleasant enough, but she also had a definite stubborn side to her. He picked up the phone to call Simona, the usual apology - it was *always* he who apologised - ready at his lips. Weiss' words echoed around his mind, his words taking on a different meaning. "You need to tell her,"
TBC. . .
Please review!!!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"So?" Sydney asked impatiently.
"Lie down first," Jack ordered. "You've been sitting up like that for a while, and you look worn out."
"I'm fine," Sydney replied obstinately.
"You're clearly not," Jack sounded annoyed with his daughter. "Now lie down and stop fussing,"
Sydney obeyed, but not without making a few faces at her father. She was not in the habit of taking orders from him, and didn't like the idea of starting now. Jack wisely ignored all this, and when she was comfortable he began.
"After Agent Vaughn took you to the hospital, he called me and told me what had happened. I came at once, and the Director at the CIA was -"
"Wait a minute," Sydney broke in. "Why was Vaughn going to meet me?"
"I was going to be your handler at the CIA," Vaughn told her. Jack nodded, and continued with the story.
"The Director at the CIA was very worried. We thought someone at SD-6 might have over heard our conversation and that Sloane had sent someone to. . . deal with you." Jack phrased this last part delicately, though all three knew exactly what he meant. "I can only assume, since Sloane said or did nothing to me, that the attack on you was completely random and nothing to do with SD-6."
"We didn't think the coma would last long, so I came to visit you every day in the hope that you would wake up and I would be able to answer your questions about SD-6," Vaughn took up the story. "Your father told Sloane that you'd been attacked and that you were in hospital. When you were moved here, he told Sloane that you'd died."
"What did he say?" gasped Sydney.
"He feigned distress, of course," spat Jack. "He offered me condolences, and said you were like a daughter to him."
Seeing that Jack was getting upset and angry, Vaughn took over again.
"I was assigned another agent, and we continued our work towards bringing The Alliance down. We were successful last night. Sloane was there when it happened. We were planning to take him into CIA custody, but he was hit by a stray bullet and died instantly."
Sydney was hit by a sudden realization. "I think that's what the voice meant," she whispered.
"What?" asked the two men in unison.
"This morning when I woke up. . . before I woke up, I mean," Jack and Vaughn looked thoroughly confused. "When I woke up in the dream" Sydney tried again, " I was awake but I hadn't opened my eyes yet. I heard a voice in my head and it told me that it was safe to wake up now. Somehow I must have realized that The Alliance was gone, and I would be safe in the real world."
"I meant to ask you about that, actually," ventured Vaughn. "Something must have triggered you waking up. Maybe it was that you somehow knew about The Alliance and Sloane. . . but I don't know. I'm not sure if that could penetrate into your coma. What happened in the dream just before you woke up?"
"I woke up in the dream just before I woke up here. I've told you that already," Sydney replied, perhaps a little too quickly.
"Agent Vaughn has a good point, Sydney. What happened before you woke up? Before you went to sleep even?"
"I - I don't remember," Sydney flushed a little, and hoped they didn't notice.
"Try harder," Jack persisted. "You remember everything else that happened. Whatever happened before you woke up must have put you in the right state of mind to wake up in the real world."
By this time, Sydney was blushing furiously and didn't dare to raise her eyes to meet Vaughn's. "I don't remember," she repeated. "And I'm really tired now. We can talk about it tomorrow." She punctuated the end of her sentence with a yawn, which was mostly genuine, but a little exaggerated for good effect.
"Of course," Jack said, getting up to leave. Vaughn smiled at her and followed suit. "Oh, and to answer your other question: Francie and Will are both very well. Francie married Charlie a year ago," saying this, Jack smiled and left, leaving Vaughn to take one last glance at Sydney now sitting up in shock, and follow her father out of the room.
"She *married* him? But he -" Sydney stopped and reminded herself that Charlie's dishonest actions had only been in her head. The real world was going to take some getting used to.
* * *
The next morning, Sydney woke up to the sound of someone bustling around her room. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see that she was alone, save for the busy nurse who was currently rearranging everything she could lay her hands on.
"Where are they?" asked Sydney, her voice still croaky from sleep.
"Who?" asked the nurse. Sydney looked pointedly at the chairs beside her bed. "Oh, you mean Agent Bristow and Agent Vaughn?" Sydney nodded. The nurse laughed. It was a high, almost melodic sound that betrayed her obviously bubbly personality, and made Sydney like her instantly. "They had to work!" she exclaimed. "They can't be here all the time you know, they've got jobs to do!" she glanced round at Sydney sympathetically, pausing momentarily in drawing the curtains back. "Agent Vaughn promised to stop by later though. And Agent Bristow said he was goin' to call your friends."
"Can I get up?" Sydney asked, pushing herself into a sitting position. The nurse laughed again.
"Get up? You've gotta stay in bed for a few more days 'til you're ready! You don't wanna go makin' yourself worse!"
"I'm fine," Sydney insisted eagerly.
"You only woke up outta your coma yesterday. You've gotta take things slowly," the nurse said, perching herself on the edge of Sydney's bed. She glanced up as the door clicked open. "Well, I've got other rooms to see to," she got up as Francie and Will entered. "You make sure she stays in bed," she warned Will, giving Sydney a meaningful look before leaving.
Armed with flowers, chocolates and a big cardboard box, Francie and Will approached the bed. The three friends had a tearful reunion. Francie repeated over and over how much she loved Sydney, and Sydney cried and cried. She let all the emotions that had been building inside her come pouring out. Anger and confusion, longing and love streamed down her cheeks as salty tears. Will took Sydney in his arms and rocked her slowly back and forth, comforting her as best he could. He pulled Francie into the hug, and they sat there, together, crying and making promises as time passed over their heads.
When they had nothing left to cry, they pulled apart. Will took up one of the chairs; Francie chose to stay closer to Sydney and sat opposite her on the bed.
"What's in the box?" asked Sydney curiously.
"We figured you'd get bored in bed all day," began Will
"So we brought you some books and stuff," finished Francie, lifting the box and bringing it into her lap. Sydney looked into it briefly, and was assured that she wouldn't have much time for boredom. They had provided her with a lot of her books from home, and some new ones too. There was also a pack of cards, and a few board games, though Sydney was not sure she would be able to find someone to play them with her. There were some girly magazines, courtesy of Francie and, guessing that she would be in hospital clothes, they had also thought to bring enough of her own clothes to last her for the rest of her hospital stay, which Jack had told them would probably be a week or two.
When they had finished looking through the box, and Will had found a vase and water for the flowers and was sitting down again, he nudged Francie and muttered something to her that Sydney could not hear. Francie giggled and whispered something back. After a little more persuasion on Will's part, Francie bent down to the floor, where she had left something earlier, and held out a big photo album to Sydney.
"I don't know if you want to see them, but these are my wedding photos," She explained, a little nervously.
"Of course I want to see them!" Sydney exclaimed.
"See, I told you she would," said Will triumphantly.
"Why did you think I wouldn't?" Sydney asked, opening the album but looking at her friend.
"Well, I didn't - I thought maybe you might not want to see them because you weren't there. I thought it might be too painful for you to be reminded that you've been in a coma for two years."
Sydney gave her friend an affectionate look and then replied seriously, "Francie, I admit it is hard to deal with, but I'm going to have to be reminded of it every minute for a long time. I won't deny that I'm finding it difficult and painful right now, but seeing your photos won't make that worse. It might even help me - I want to find out everything that's happened so that I can get past this."
Francie smiled at her, tears coming to her eyes again. She hurriedly blinked them away and moved to sit beside Sydney on the bed. The three of them spent hours exclaiming over memories and photographs of the wedding. Silent tears coursed down Sydney's cheeks when she saw Francie in her beautiful dress and she wished more than anything that she could have been there. They all laughed at the terrified expression on Charlie's face as he danced with Francie's mother and Sydney hid her jealousy when she saw the numerous pictures of Francie and Will together. She should have been there. There should have been pictures of all three of them laughing and dancing together. It was obvious that Francie and Will had become much closer since the accident, and though she knew it was not her fault, she felt guilty that she hadn't been there for Francie's special day. She hated herself for feeling jealous of their close bond, and vowed to herself that she would make up for lost time as quickly and as much as she could.
"It looks like it was perfect," sighed Sydney enviously, when they came to the end of the album.
"It was," Francie smiled. "Almost."
* * *
Vaughn ran a tired hand through his hair and tapped aimlessly at the keyboard. He looked at what he had written so far, and on reading it, promptly deleted it and started again. His mind wasn't on this latest report, and there was nothing he could do to force himself to concentrate. His thoughts drifted once again to the hospital and he wondered for the millionth time if Sydney was awake. He pictured her in his mind; beautiful and fragile, yet full of determination. He'd sat by her side every day for two years. That was seven hundred and thirty days. It hadn't felt like it. At times it had felt longer, but sometimes, the days would fly by as if they were mere minutes. He'd been her most frequent visitor, coming more often and staying longer than even Jack Bristow. At first the hospital staff had been surprised, and wondered why he came so often, but with time they became accustomed to him and his visits became routine, he himself just a part of the furniture in Sydney's little room. Though they seemed it, his visits were never routine to *him*. Every day after work. If he was working late, mornings before work. He never missed a day. He spent both Christmases with his mother, coming home early to visit Sydney, hoping and praying for the kind of Christmas miracle that happens in sentimental movies with fake snow and twinkling lights. Sometimes he imagined her waking up, as he sat there holding her hand, so still she could have been a doll. He imagined the light in her brown eyes, the way her eyes smiled in the picture of her that stood on the table by her bed. He tried to imagine what her voice would sound like, the things she would say and how she would laugh. To begin with, he was just a prospective handler, waiting for his prospective asset to wake up so they could start to work together. He wasn't sure exactly when that had changed, but it had. He had been assigned another agent, yet his visits didn't stop. In fact, they became more frequent. He willed her to wake up, telling himself and her that the CIA needed her. That her father needed her. That he needed her. He added this to his whispered prayers one time, as an afterthought, but as soon as he said it he realized the truth in it. He needed her. And he thought - just maybe - he was falling in love. After that his visits were different. He pleaded with her to come back, not for her sake or her father's sake, but his own. He wasn't sure how it was possible to love someone who's eyes you have never looked into, who's voice you have never heard, but he was sure that he did. He told her the details of his day, the jokes Weiss had made and the arguments he'd had with his temperamental asset. He talked to her about movies and music, hockey and baseball. He carried on lengthy one-sided conversations with her, confiding in her as if she could comfort him.
"You need to tell her," Vaughn was startled by Weiss' voice.
"Need to tell her what?" he stammered when he realised where he was.
"That you're sorry you walked out on her! Jeez, what did you think I was talking about?"
"Huh?" Vaughn was still dazed from being snapped out of his thoughts so suddenly. Weiss rolled his eyes and began again, speaking slowly and patiently as if he was talking to a child.
"You need to tell Simona that you are sorry you yelled at her," he emphasised each word looking closely at Vaughn as he spoke. "And you better hope she forgives you this time, or you're gonna get hell from Kendall when you don't hand that report in,"
Vaughn sighed and mumbled an agreement, finally catching onto his friend. He and his asset, Simona, had had another of their blazing rows the night before. He couldn't even remember what it was about, but he was sure it had something to do with her not following orders and him trying to force her to - it always was. He wondered briefly what Sydney would have been like to work with. She seemed pleasant enough, but she also had a definite stubborn side to her. He picked up the phone to call Simona, the usual apology - it was *always* he who apologised - ready at his lips. Weiss' words echoed around his mind, his words taking on a different meaning. "You need to tell her,"
TBC. . .
Please review!!!