Title: Chat
Author: Jenn
Chapter:26
Chapter Title: Waiting Room
Dedications: Mooch, CryHope, sunnE1, Angel,
Vulcan, Chateau, okelay, Tricia, OddShadowyEgg
Waiting Room
26.
She's silent for a moment, looking only into his eyes with a sort of wonderment
shining, mirrored in her own. "The Post-it."
Her voice is a murmur.
He nods, "The post-it." He lowers his head for a moment before
bringing it back up. "God Sydney... It was so hard. So hard to look at you every day and not scream out the truth, so
hard to speak to you when I saw the hate in your eyes and the confusion
underlying every word that came out of your mouth."
"And when I tried to kiss you in the warehouse-"
"-that was the hardest of all, Sydney. How could I stop you? How could I
stop myse-"
He is silenced by her lips.
Relief and gratitude flooding through his system, he closes his eyes, threading
his fingers through her hair, needing to convince himself that this is real.
That she is real. That she is truly standing in front of him... and
kissing him. That her lips are truly on his, her fingers
equally as entwined as his in his hair.
She tastes sweeter than he remembers, sweeter than he ever thought a person could
taste.
It seems almost an eternity before they break the kiss and he looks at her
face, flushed with happiness, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. "You love
me?"
Her voice still carries a tinge of reservation.
He hugs him to her, kissing her temple and whispering into her ear, "I
love you. So much."
And then the door swings open, revealing a smirking Jager.
"I see that we shall have to provide separate cells."
They break apart, glowering at the man. "Was wollen
sie von uns?" What
do you want of us?
"Es ist nicht was ich wünsche. Es ist was ein andere
Person wünscht." It's not what I wish.
It's what another person wishes.
Vaughn's eyes narrow. "Und wer
ist diese andere Person?" And who is this other
person?
Jager pulls a chair from just outside the door and
sets it inside the cell, sitting in it and closing the door behind him. "Du wirst
bald wissen." You will soon find out.
Sydney's jaw clenches in obstinacy. "Du wirst nicht für wem
wir arbeiten finden." You will never find out who we work
for.
Jager cocks his head slightly, an amused twinkle
coming from the corner of his eyes. He speaks in English, the German accent
piercing through the syllables. "You mean the CIA?"
Her nerves shaking, Sydney stands up, Michael
following suit, a worried glance showing in his eyes.
The voice is calm, barely able to conceal the smirk that it holds underneath
the layer of sickly-sweet melody. "Where is the SSG?"
Eyes flashing, Sydney clenches her fists
into tight balls. "If you know so damn much then why don't
you tell me?"
"Because I would rather extricate the information as soon as
possible rather than use my own resources to find out information more easily
taken elsewhere. Because I, unlike yourself, have
nothing to lose and everything to gain. Because you stole something from
me and I want it back. And because I hold your future, your happiness in my hands."
And with that, he leaves, as suddenly as he came, the door clanging with a
finality that confused both of them.
But just as suddenly as the door closed, it reopens, this time by two men.
~:~
Vaughn's pulse quickens as the door swings open and a body is thrown back onto
the stone tiles. Fists clenching, he somehow manages to refrain from speaking
until they are alone again. He quickly makes his way to her, lifting her head
off the floor and onto his lap, murmuring softly into her hear and hugging her
close to him.
She lays with her head cradled in his shoulder, the
tears slowly seeping out of her eyes without a word and her arms slowly come
around his neck. Her body trembles slightly with the aftershock and it is all
he can do to keep the horror out of his eyes as he bends slowly to kiss her
temple.
"Sydney…. Sydney don't you dare give up
on me," he whispers, his voice coming out a shaky tremor. He hugs her, probably
tighter than he should, to him, needing to feel her skin against his so that he
knows that this is real. That despite the circumstances, she
is here and they are together. "I love you, I love you, I love you…
you're okay. You're okay…"
She whimpers slightly and burrows into his neck and he feels her wet skin make
contact on his shoulder and his heart breaks for her. He stroked her hair until
she is quiet.
How long can we stay here?
~:~
They sit close, huddled together in a futile attempt
to share the warmth that neither of them have. She has her head leaned against
his now-weak shoulder, lips muttering inaudible sounds, eyelids quivering. He
sits against the cold concrete wall for support, giving her all the energy he
possesses and the energy he is trying accumulate by letting the wall take his
weight, helping her stay in her more or less upright position.
Both are shivering, uncomfortable. Both are unable to move into a different
position because of the slow stiffening of their muscles and the pain that jars
their senses and their perception of reality with every movement, every breath.
And there is also a kind of security in the way that they are lending
themselves to one another, a kind of admirable courage in the way both clench
their jaws in an effort to keep their teeth from clattering. He wonders if he
still has any control at all over his body and he cautiously wills his finger
to move. Just a little.
There is almost no expressing the utter helplessness that rolls over his
features and floods into his eyes, drowning nearly all light; he cannot even
reign over his own body, how can he give any sort of help to the woman leaning
up against him? His whole body feels as if it is on fire from the ever-constant
tingles that keep shooting up his spine, reminding him that his whole body is
asleep.
A chill takes over her body too and she involuntarily shudders, moving both
their bodies in the process and awakening them from painful slumber with a
clash of fireworks and the deepest aches of bone against atrophied muscle. She
closes her eyes and tries to think, an attempt to at least keep her mind from
immobilizing as the rest of her body has.
How long has it been since we arrived? One hundred and fifty four days.
And how many hours is that? Three thousand six hundred ninety six hours.
And minutes? Two hundred twenty one thousand seven hundred
and sixty.
Is that right? Carry the three and then the five and add four to eighteen…yes
that's right.
Seconds? Thirteen million three
hundred and five thousand six hundred seconds.
Six hundred and one.
Six hundred and two.
And three.
She smiles slightly as she feels dry lips land on her chilled cheeks and stay
there for a minute as if it is an attempt to bring heat somehow to her face.
Who is that man sitting behind me loving me the way he is? Michael C.
Vaughn.
How old is he? 34.
When is his birthday? November 27, 1969.
How many days ago was that?
She is tired now, doesn't have the will or the constitution to figure out how
many days old Vaughn is, how many hours and minutes and seconds.
She bites her lip in frustration. Just last week she was able to go through her
entire family and Vaughn's and then add up their seconds of life despite their
ever-changing status.
Everything is wearing down.
"Michael?" Her voice is cracked and uncertain from unuse and she hears Michael running his thirsty tongue over
cracked lips as loud as thunder before answering. As if
magnified by isolation. And despair.
"Yeah?"
"Tell me a story." Even she is surprised at how pleading and
childlike her voice is, what it has become. She has been reduced to a child…
one asking another to help her survive. The weak leading the
weak.
She hears the unvoiced sadness that hangs in the air like a heavy curtain,
dragging down on existence, pulling everything in its sphere with it. The strain of attempt followed by the suicidal darkness of failure.
"Sydney… I'm sorry- I
can't."
She knows. She knows he can't and that he would is he could and she feels like
she should beat herself for merely asking it of him. But that would require
movement.
"Do you know how many minutes we've been in here?"
His slight smile makes a noise that echoes in the small cell, makes her willing
to sell her soul for a tube of Chapstick. She knows
that he has been doing this too.
"Two hundred twenty one thousand seven hundred and sixty
six."
She grins back, pulling up every ounce of energy she
has left to lift her head off his comforting shoulder, to lean it back against
the wall. But the sudden emptiness she feels as a consequence for breaking
their physical connection is worth it for now she is at his level, can see his
face in all its agony, in all its love.
"And forty one seconds."
"Forty two."
She laces her brittle fingers through his, closing her eyes for bittersweet
darkness. "Forty three."
His heart breaks as he watches her, looks at her sitting so close to him,
breathing the same air as he has, sleeping the same
dreams. His next words come out a whisper, as flimsy and nearly intangible as a
feather but there all the same and the meaning that they
carry solidify it to have weight. "I love you."
Despite everything, despite their surroundings, their mistakes, their denials,
they are in a situation where lies no longer work. And so the truth must come
out. His eyes look trace her face, so thin and frail as it is now and he knows
that his must be a reflection of that same hollowed bone structure screaming
for nutrition.
"Don't say it like it's a good bye." Despite her seemingly cold
words, he hears the true meaning behind them, knows that she would say them
back if she had the energy. If she knew for sure that she could love him that
way she would want to love him; she invests so much time in the people and
things she cares about, she's not about to go half-ass now.
"It's not." He feels her fingers tighten a little around his own in
an unasked for confirmation.
He'd kiss her if he had the energy.
The door opens suddenly, with a bang that seems deafening to their ears and
they wince at the sudden eruption of light that has made it through into the
dark and dank cell. There is a silhouette standing there, waiting, watching.
The wait is over.
tbc…
more?
there is no excuse for
this chapter... i guess that's why i tried to shield it for so long... anyway, i apologize but i just can't get
myself to change it so the best i can hope for is
that you'll somehow forgive this chapter and hope for the best for the next
one...
Please review~