Disclaimer: Of course, I don't own any of this blah blah blah.
A/N: This story is purely Sydney angst. If you're hoping for fluff, you've
come to the wrong place.
A/N 2: This whole story is based on the song "I Dreamed a Dream" out of Les
Miserables. If you've never heard it, you should try to find it somewhere,
it's beautiful.
Chapter 1: There Was a Time
"There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft, and their words inviting
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song, and the song was exciting
There was a time.
Then it all went wrong."
I still can't believe it. Two years of my life have gone by, and I have no memory of what happened. My 30th birthday is next week, and if ever there was a woman with a reason to lie about her age, it's me. If I can't remember the birthdays they never happened right? So really I'll only be turning 28.
I suppose that is the crux of the problem. Despite what I've been told, what I see when I look at the date on the calendar, my mind is stuck two years in the past. To me, the past is the present and the present is the future. When you get your yesterdays and todays turned around it's awfully hard to believe that there will be a tomorrow though, or that tomorrow will be any better than today which is really tomorrow and. I've got to stop thinking like this or I'll go mad.
I want so badly to have someone to blame. I tried to point the finger at Arvin Sloane, but the more intel we receive the more unlikely that is. No, the people who stole my life from me belong to some faceless organization I'd never heard of before, which means that I don't know who they are now. I desperately need a tangible focal point for my anger, and fate offered me a perfect choice.
Vaughn. When I saw him in the hallway and heard the honest concern in his voice, all my anger just came bubbling out. Every ounce of frustration I feel, all the loss and pain-I laid it all on his head. Now that I can think rationally and that I've heard his side of the story, I know it's not his fault. It is simply a cruel blow that life dealt me, and I have to learn to deal with it.
I don't regret what I said though; I needed to let some of that anger go. And Vaughn. he just stood there and took it. He let me rip into him with a viciousness I wouldn't have thought myself capable of while he barely offered a defense. He knew I needed that.
You know what the sad thing is? That just makes me love him more.
Chapter 2: High Hopes
"I dreamed a dream in times gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung
No wine untasted."
I used to be such a happy child. Okay, I'll put aside the mournful parent act. I loved life. I had a gorgeous fiancé whom I adored, I was following in my mother's career footsteps, and I was making a difference in the world.
Then in the space of two-excuse me, four-years, the bottom has dropped out of my world three times. Or maybe it was four, after a while you stop caring enough to keep track. First I came home from a mission and found my fiancé, dead in my bathtub. It was months before I could take a bath without seeing his body in my mind.
Before I'd truly begun to process his death, I discovered that I didn't really work for the CIA. I'd been making a difference in the world all right-the wrong kind of difference. How many times had I undermined the security of the United States while thinking I was upholding it? Plagued by guilt and hungry for revenge, I became a double agent.
Then my mother. remember her, the one who I was modeling my future teaching career off of? Well it turns out she wasn't really a teacher, she was a spy. With the KGB. I suppose in some sick, twisted sense I actually did follow in her footsteps by working for SD-6. We both worked against the United States government.
You know how they say bad things happen in threes? They're wrong. At least I hope they are, or I've got another two things coming, and I don't think I could handle that.
So now I'm sitting here, trying to avoid thinking about the void that is two years of my life, and I find it hard to believe that I was ever happy. That girl I was before, did she really exist? How could I have ever had such an idealistic outlook on life? Where once I saw flowers and heard music, now I see only pain and the song has turned to tears.
There is no more room in my heart for dreams.
Chapter 1: There Was a Time
"There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft, and their words inviting
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song, and the song was exciting
There was a time.
Then it all went wrong."
I still can't believe it. Two years of my life have gone by, and I have no memory of what happened. My 30th birthday is next week, and if ever there was a woman with a reason to lie about her age, it's me. If I can't remember the birthdays they never happened right? So really I'll only be turning 28.
I suppose that is the crux of the problem. Despite what I've been told, what I see when I look at the date on the calendar, my mind is stuck two years in the past. To me, the past is the present and the present is the future. When you get your yesterdays and todays turned around it's awfully hard to believe that there will be a tomorrow though, or that tomorrow will be any better than today which is really tomorrow and. I've got to stop thinking like this or I'll go mad.
I want so badly to have someone to blame. I tried to point the finger at Arvin Sloane, but the more intel we receive the more unlikely that is. No, the people who stole my life from me belong to some faceless organization I'd never heard of before, which means that I don't know who they are now. I desperately need a tangible focal point for my anger, and fate offered me a perfect choice.
Vaughn. When I saw him in the hallway and heard the honest concern in his voice, all my anger just came bubbling out. Every ounce of frustration I feel, all the loss and pain-I laid it all on his head. Now that I can think rationally and that I've heard his side of the story, I know it's not his fault. It is simply a cruel blow that life dealt me, and I have to learn to deal with it.
I don't regret what I said though; I needed to let some of that anger go. And Vaughn. he just stood there and took it. He let me rip into him with a viciousness I wouldn't have thought myself capable of while he barely offered a defense. He knew I needed that.
You know what the sad thing is? That just makes me love him more.
Chapter 2: High Hopes
"I dreamed a dream in times gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung
No wine untasted."
I used to be such a happy child. Okay, I'll put aside the mournful parent act. I loved life. I had a gorgeous fiancé whom I adored, I was following in my mother's career footsteps, and I was making a difference in the world.
Then in the space of two-excuse me, four-years, the bottom has dropped out of my world three times. Or maybe it was four, after a while you stop caring enough to keep track. First I came home from a mission and found my fiancé, dead in my bathtub. It was months before I could take a bath without seeing his body in my mind.
Before I'd truly begun to process his death, I discovered that I didn't really work for the CIA. I'd been making a difference in the world all right-the wrong kind of difference. How many times had I undermined the security of the United States while thinking I was upholding it? Plagued by guilt and hungry for revenge, I became a double agent.
Then my mother. remember her, the one who I was modeling my future teaching career off of? Well it turns out she wasn't really a teacher, she was a spy. With the KGB. I suppose in some sick, twisted sense I actually did follow in her footsteps by working for SD-6. We both worked against the United States government.
You know how they say bad things happen in threes? They're wrong. At least I hope they are, or I've got another two things coming, and I don't think I could handle that.
So now I'm sitting here, trying to avoid thinking about the void that is two years of my life, and I find it hard to believe that I was ever happy. That girl I was before, did she really exist? How could I have ever had such an idealistic outlook on life? Where once I saw flowers and heard music, now I see only pain and the song has turned to tears.
There is no more room in my heart for dreams.