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I wake up with a start, forgetting for only a millisecond where I am and why I am here. Rolling over I can't help but let my eyes drift up towards the camera above the door. I hate them. I hate the people on the other side of that camera, watching my every move, waiting to see if I break. I hate them for seeing me at my worst - locked up and crying. I am a fighter, a survivor, not someone who sobs into her pillow.
The anger is bubbling in my stomach and instead of crying I want to throw something at the camera, to jump up and break it off, smashing it to pieces. I want to kick some ass - heaven help the first person I see this morning.
On cue, I hear the gate lifting at the end of the hall. Who is the lucky soul?
The minute he walks into view my anger melts: Will. He stops in front of my door and nods back down to the hallway. Before he is even through the door I am up and off the bed, throwing my arms around his neck.
"Hey Syd," Will says, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Will," I'm crying, "You were in the bathtub. there was so much blood. Will, God, I've missed you so much and I didn't even know it. I'm so glad you are okay. You are okay, right?"
Will is crying too, and laughing, "Sydney, Syd. take a breath. Yes, I'm all right, perfectly healthy, in fact. But you. I just can't believe it is you!"
Will pulls me away from him to look me up and down, stopping to stare at my face then embraces me again.
"Syd," Will speaks over my shoulder, "Where have you been?"
I take a step back from Will, taking his hands in mine, "I have no idea. I just woke up in an alley in Hong Kong and that is all I know, the last thing I remember is fighting with Francie. I mean, well, I don't know who I mean."
"Allison, her name was Allison, she worked for Sark and Sloane."
"I shot her, Will," I squeeze his hands, "And even though I knew it wasn't Francie it still felt like it was her that I was shooting, her I was killing."
"But it wasn't, Syd. Allison was trying to kill you, too. She was on Sloane's side," Will offers a weak smile. "Look, that doesn't matter right now, we just have to work on getting you out of here. Mike says that they have to determine whether or not you are telling the truth about all this and if you can remember anything."
"I guess that sounds about right," there is something in Will's voice, the use of Vaughn's first name that causes me to ask the next question, "Are you guys friends now?"
"Who, me and Mike?" I nod, he continues, "Yeah, we're friends. After you were gone we started playing basketball together with Weiss to blow off steam. Sometimes we would talk about you, but mostly we just did guy things. We haven't seen each other too much lately, he's been pretty busy with work."
"Do you know her?"
"Melanie? Yes, I know her, of course I know her," Will clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable, "You know, I don't think we should really be talking about her, not now, not here; there are more important things that we should be concentrating on."
"Okay, sure," I rub my hands over my face.
I hear the gate again and look down the hall to see my father walking quickly towards me. "Sydney," he gasps. "It is you!"
My dad, the iron-willed Jack Bristow, enters my cell with tears rolling down his face, taking me into his arms in one, swooping motion.
"Dad," the tears are flowing once again and that is all I can say.
After a few minutes, I remember that Will is standing next to us and let go of my dad who seems reluctant to let me out of his grasp. Despite myself I laugh, "This is just so, so unreal. I mean, I am so upset and crying but I feel like I just saw both of you a couple days ago, not two years ago. I'm sorry."
"Sydney, please, don't be sorry," my dad beats Will to the punch, "At least you didn't have to go through two years of being away from the people you loved, it's been hell for all of us. And at least you don't remember the hell you've been through. For that, I am thankful."
His words bring tears to my eyes again and I am damn sick of crying. Before I can say anything to comfort Will or my dad, the gate goes up again. Who's it going to be this time? A glance down the hall reveals someone I was looking the least forward to seeing, Kendall.
"Sydney, welcome back to the United States," Kendall strides through the door as pompous as ever, "You've thrown us for quite a loop these past two years, I'm eager to hear about your time away."
'Yes, I'm sure you are, asshole,' I think to myself and aloud, I reply, "Well, I'm sure that Agent Vaughn filled you in, but in case he didn't, here goes. I woke up in Hong Kong about 48 hours ago and before that the last thing I remember was being in my apartment and fighting a woman I thought was Francie Calfo but it turns out was Allison, a woman who was working for Sark and Sloane. That is all there is to tell because that is all I remember."
Kendall grins, "Well, that is what we are going to find out. I'm sure you can understand that I would be suspicious of your story considering your known ability to conceal your true motives and lead a double, or even triple life. We'll be running a series of tests on you and you will be required to meet with CIA psychologists for psych testing and regression therapy. Then, if everything gets cleared, I will be happy to release you and welcome you back to active duty."
"Kendall, I don't think I am at all thrilled with the tone you have taken with my daughter," my dad speaks up, "She's been through quite an ordeal and if Sloane indeed had her, who knows what he did to her. I'd appreciate it if you would remember that she is an agent of this government and has served her country and given of herself time and time again. I recommend you remember that when you are treating her like a criminal."
Kendall smirks, light gleaming off his bald head, "Jack, you defend your daughter so eloquently, I admire your dedication. Sydney, you need to come with me to medical services for testing, I'll give you the benefits of an unrestrained escort. Gentlemen, please excuse us."
Will and my father stand back as Kendall takes me by the arm, leading me out of the cell.
"I'll see you later, Syd," Will calls from behind us.
At the end of the hall, the gate slides up and the door opens leading to the center of the Joint Task Force - it looks the same as the last time I saw it. I can't help but look in the direction of Vaughn's desk. But, instead of Vaughn, I see a short, blond woman is sitting in his chair.
Kendall wordlessly takes me in the direction of medical services, a path that leads us almost directly across the room, in full view of everyone. I see a number of familiar faces, the people who have always been working away on one lead or another; the tech people who get me up to speed before a mission, the support staff who book flights and hotel rooms and always made sure my alibis passed Sloane's scrutiny. A number of them look up as I pass, giving me smiles tainted with pity or confusion, my appearance here is likely quite surprising to those who hadn't heard of my return. Some of the looks I'm given are suspicious, even mean, reflecting their misguided notions of where I have been and what I have been doing for the past two years.
Before walking into the hallway that leads to doctors poking and prodding me for hours, we pass by an office and I see Vaughn sitting behind the desk, phone to his ear. Not only is he still with the CIA, he's gotten a promotion. So where was he asked back from? By chance he looks up as we pass his window, his expression is flat as he raises a hand. I mirror his action and feel Kendall pull against my arm, "Come on, Agent Bristow, they are waiting for us."
* * *
A few dozen tests later I am lying on a cot much more comfortable than the bed waiting for me in my cell. My nerves feel raw from all the needles that have been stuck in me and from being hooked up to a number of machines that remind me of torture devices. If any results have come back that haven't been shared with me.
At lunchtime Will came by and ate with me, though I was only allowed chicken broth and a protein drink that tasted like strawberry chalk. I realized that I hadn't even asked Will what he had been doing in the past two years. He filled me in on his life. He is still working for the CIA and advancing in his position as an analyst. He works on the weekends at Francie's old restaurant, which her sister, Maureen, has taken over. He's dating a woman named Claire. They have been together for a little over four months. She works for the CIA as well but is based out of D.C. They met when she was called in to consult on a project Will was working on.
Will also brought news about Dixon, Marshall, Weiss and my father. Dixon still hasn't gotten married since Diane's death, but he is happy simply raising his kids and trying to spend as much time with them as possible. Marshall sounds like he is as wacky as ever and has been dating another techie since my disappearance. Weiss is the big surprise; he has gotten married and divorced all in two years. The divorce was quite a shock to everyone but apparently Carol, his wife, was cheating on him with the mailman - how cliché. Will says that Weiss has handled it pretty well, though he groans every time he sees something related to the US Postal Service. My dad is another story. Will explained that he never gave up on me and has spent all his spare time tracking down lead after lead as to my whereabouts, all of which led to dead ends. About a month ago Weiss had called Will and asked him to come help take my dad home from a bar where he had passed out. Since that night he had been attending AA meetings and has assured Will that he was just having a bad night and that it won't happen again.
Now, as I lay here, the world feels like it is weighing down on me but I know the only thing I can do is be honest and wait for this to all work itself out; they can't keep me locked up forever, eventually they have to release me. And then, well, then I figure out what I am going to do.
I look up when I hear a noise at the door, psyching myself up for more needles and scopes.
"How are you holding up?" Vaughn's voice brings goosebumps to the surface of my skin. "You look beat."
"Hey, Vaughn," I swing my legs over the side of the bed and sit up. "I'm fine, don't worry, I'm just taking a break from everything. This bed is nice and soft which is more than I can say for where I slept last night."
"I'm sorry for that, Syd, I'll try to get you a better mattress," Vaughn walks over to stand in front of me. "That cell hasn't gotten a lot of use since your mother was in there."
"Where is my mother," the mention of her piques my interest. "No one has said anything about her."
"We're not sure. We have been looking for her almost as long as we looked for you. At first we kept finding evidence of her in different places but we were always a couple days too late in following her path and then one day everything just disappeared. Since then we hadn't found a thing. It's like she was leading us purposefully for the first part and then didn't want to be found at all, she is a smart woman, a woman whose motives are impossible to understand."
I simply shrug and stare at my hands sitting in my lap; my arms dotted with bandages, reminders of the day's ordeal. I feel Vaughn's hand on my chin, drawing my face so he can see in my eyes.
"Sydney, this is all going to be over soon and you will be out of here," Vaughn smiles. "They can't hold you without evidence and they have to take your record into consideration. Don't worry, everything is going to be all right."
I know the words are supposed to comfort me and suppose on some level they do, but looking in his eyes and listening to him tell me that I am going to be free to live my life, to return to the real world makes want to punch him. I jerk my chin out of his hold and stand up from my seated position, pushing against his chest with both of my hands.
"Screw you, Vaughn. When I get out of here things are not going to be the same. Things are not okay. Everyone else has gone on living their lives while I was gone, even grieving for me. But as for me, I have no idea where I have been and what has been done to me and I have lost two years of my life. My two years have gone unlived and that sucks - it's downright shitty. Don't you tell me not to worry, Vaughn, I'm not your problem to fix anymore. I don't blame you for getting married - you thought I was dead - but don't expect me to be okay with it, to just be able to pretend it doesn't matter and that my life is just fine."
"Sydney, I didn't come here to upset you," Vaughn holds his hands up in peace.
"I know, I know," I sit back down, "But I am upset, I can't help it. Give me some time, I'm sure I'll get over it, that I'll get over you. I mean I can't love a married man forever, can I?"
The question hangs in the air and before Vaughn can respond I continue, "I've only had a day to get over you - give me another 20 months, maybe that will do the trick."
I've hurt him; I can see it as soon as I look at him. His eyes have gone cold, his arms crossed protectively over his chest. I'm amazed with myself - how my emotions can fly from confused to betrayed to furious to sad in a matter of seconds. Silently, Vaughn turns to leave but quickly turns back to face me.
"Sydney, you can think whatever you like, but whether I have gotten over you or not is only something I know and you can't tell me who or what is in my heart. But things have happened that are out of both of our controls and whether you are able to feel it or admit it, we have been apart for two years and I wish I could change that, I do," he throws his arms up in the air and light hits the ring on his left hand. "I'm married and hopefully you can someday understand why, but I didn't do it to hurt you. Losing you felt like losing a part of myself, I couldn't protect you but you are back and I will be damned if I am going to let your feelings of disappointment and betrayal keep me from making sure you are all right."
"Do you love her, Vaughn," his tirade has had its intended effect, I feel horrible, "Does she love you? Are you happy?"
"Why does it matter, Syd? I mean, do you really want to hear the answers?" He's avoiding my questions.
"I don't ask questions if I don't want the answers to them."
"Yes, she loves me and we're happy," Vaughn says flatly. "Look, I really have to go, I shouldn't have even stopped by. I'll check on you later tonight, before I leave."
One of the doctors appears at the door before I can adequately reply so I simply nod and wave as he backs out of the room.
I watch him walk down the hall and smile despite myself - he didn't answer my first question. He didn't say that he loved his wife.
I truly am a Sydney/Vaughn fan, but I am taking my time with this, you will just have to be patient. Good things come to those who wait. Thanks for taking the time to read. Let me know if you want more.
I wake up with a start, forgetting for only a millisecond where I am and why I am here. Rolling over I can't help but let my eyes drift up towards the camera above the door. I hate them. I hate the people on the other side of that camera, watching my every move, waiting to see if I break. I hate them for seeing me at my worst - locked up and crying. I am a fighter, a survivor, not someone who sobs into her pillow.
The anger is bubbling in my stomach and instead of crying I want to throw something at the camera, to jump up and break it off, smashing it to pieces. I want to kick some ass - heaven help the first person I see this morning.
On cue, I hear the gate lifting at the end of the hall. Who is the lucky soul?
The minute he walks into view my anger melts: Will. He stops in front of my door and nods back down to the hallway. Before he is even through the door I am up and off the bed, throwing my arms around his neck.
"Hey Syd," Will says, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Will," I'm crying, "You were in the bathtub. there was so much blood. Will, God, I've missed you so much and I didn't even know it. I'm so glad you are okay. You are okay, right?"
Will is crying too, and laughing, "Sydney, Syd. take a breath. Yes, I'm all right, perfectly healthy, in fact. But you. I just can't believe it is you!"
Will pulls me away from him to look me up and down, stopping to stare at my face then embraces me again.
"Syd," Will speaks over my shoulder, "Where have you been?"
I take a step back from Will, taking his hands in mine, "I have no idea. I just woke up in an alley in Hong Kong and that is all I know, the last thing I remember is fighting with Francie. I mean, well, I don't know who I mean."
"Allison, her name was Allison, she worked for Sark and Sloane."
"I shot her, Will," I squeeze his hands, "And even though I knew it wasn't Francie it still felt like it was her that I was shooting, her I was killing."
"But it wasn't, Syd. Allison was trying to kill you, too. She was on Sloane's side," Will offers a weak smile. "Look, that doesn't matter right now, we just have to work on getting you out of here. Mike says that they have to determine whether or not you are telling the truth about all this and if you can remember anything."
"I guess that sounds about right," there is something in Will's voice, the use of Vaughn's first name that causes me to ask the next question, "Are you guys friends now?"
"Who, me and Mike?" I nod, he continues, "Yeah, we're friends. After you were gone we started playing basketball together with Weiss to blow off steam. Sometimes we would talk about you, but mostly we just did guy things. We haven't seen each other too much lately, he's been pretty busy with work."
"Do you know her?"
"Melanie? Yes, I know her, of course I know her," Will clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable, "You know, I don't think we should really be talking about her, not now, not here; there are more important things that we should be concentrating on."
"Okay, sure," I rub my hands over my face.
I hear the gate again and look down the hall to see my father walking quickly towards me. "Sydney," he gasps. "It is you!"
My dad, the iron-willed Jack Bristow, enters my cell with tears rolling down his face, taking me into his arms in one, swooping motion.
"Dad," the tears are flowing once again and that is all I can say.
After a few minutes, I remember that Will is standing next to us and let go of my dad who seems reluctant to let me out of his grasp. Despite myself I laugh, "This is just so, so unreal. I mean, I am so upset and crying but I feel like I just saw both of you a couple days ago, not two years ago. I'm sorry."
"Sydney, please, don't be sorry," my dad beats Will to the punch, "At least you didn't have to go through two years of being away from the people you loved, it's been hell for all of us. And at least you don't remember the hell you've been through. For that, I am thankful."
His words bring tears to my eyes again and I am damn sick of crying. Before I can say anything to comfort Will or my dad, the gate goes up again. Who's it going to be this time? A glance down the hall reveals someone I was looking the least forward to seeing, Kendall.
"Sydney, welcome back to the United States," Kendall strides through the door as pompous as ever, "You've thrown us for quite a loop these past two years, I'm eager to hear about your time away."
'Yes, I'm sure you are, asshole,' I think to myself and aloud, I reply, "Well, I'm sure that Agent Vaughn filled you in, but in case he didn't, here goes. I woke up in Hong Kong about 48 hours ago and before that the last thing I remember was being in my apartment and fighting a woman I thought was Francie Calfo but it turns out was Allison, a woman who was working for Sark and Sloane. That is all there is to tell because that is all I remember."
Kendall grins, "Well, that is what we are going to find out. I'm sure you can understand that I would be suspicious of your story considering your known ability to conceal your true motives and lead a double, or even triple life. We'll be running a series of tests on you and you will be required to meet with CIA psychologists for psych testing and regression therapy. Then, if everything gets cleared, I will be happy to release you and welcome you back to active duty."
"Kendall, I don't think I am at all thrilled with the tone you have taken with my daughter," my dad speaks up, "She's been through quite an ordeal and if Sloane indeed had her, who knows what he did to her. I'd appreciate it if you would remember that she is an agent of this government and has served her country and given of herself time and time again. I recommend you remember that when you are treating her like a criminal."
Kendall smirks, light gleaming off his bald head, "Jack, you defend your daughter so eloquently, I admire your dedication. Sydney, you need to come with me to medical services for testing, I'll give you the benefits of an unrestrained escort. Gentlemen, please excuse us."
Will and my father stand back as Kendall takes me by the arm, leading me out of the cell.
"I'll see you later, Syd," Will calls from behind us.
At the end of the hall, the gate slides up and the door opens leading to the center of the Joint Task Force - it looks the same as the last time I saw it. I can't help but look in the direction of Vaughn's desk. But, instead of Vaughn, I see a short, blond woman is sitting in his chair.
Kendall wordlessly takes me in the direction of medical services, a path that leads us almost directly across the room, in full view of everyone. I see a number of familiar faces, the people who have always been working away on one lead or another; the tech people who get me up to speed before a mission, the support staff who book flights and hotel rooms and always made sure my alibis passed Sloane's scrutiny. A number of them look up as I pass, giving me smiles tainted with pity or confusion, my appearance here is likely quite surprising to those who hadn't heard of my return. Some of the looks I'm given are suspicious, even mean, reflecting their misguided notions of where I have been and what I have been doing for the past two years.
Before walking into the hallway that leads to doctors poking and prodding me for hours, we pass by an office and I see Vaughn sitting behind the desk, phone to his ear. Not only is he still with the CIA, he's gotten a promotion. So where was he asked back from? By chance he looks up as we pass his window, his expression is flat as he raises a hand. I mirror his action and feel Kendall pull against my arm, "Come on, Agent Bristow, they are waiting for us."
* * *
A few dozen tests later I am lying on a cot much more comfortable than the bed waiting for me in my cell. My nerves feel raw from all the needles that have been stuck in me and from being hooked up to a number of machines that remind me of torture devices. If any results have come back that haven't been shared with me.
At lunchtime Will came by and ate with me, though I was only allowed chicken broth and a protein drink that tasted like strawberry chalk. I realized that I hadn't even asked Will what he had been doing in the past two years. He filled me in on his life. He is still working for the CIA and advancing in his position as an analyst. He works on the weekends at Francie's old restaurant, which her sister, Maureen, has taken over. He's dating a woman named Claire. They have been together for a little over four months. She works for the CIA as well but is based out of D.C. They met when she was called in to consult on a project Will was working on.
Will also brought news about Dixon, Marshall, Weiss and my father. Dixon still hasn't gotten married since Diane's death, but he is happy simply raising his kids and trying to spend as much time with them as possible. Marshall sounds like he is as wacky as ever and has been dating another techie since my disappearance. Weiss is the big surprise; he has gotten married and divorced all in two years. The divorce was quite a shock to everyone but apparently Carol, his wife, was cheating on him with the mailman - how cliché. Will says that Weiss has handled it pretty well, though he groans every time he sees something related to the US Postal Service. My dad is another story. Will explained that he never gave up on me and has spent all his spare time tracking down lead after lead as to my whereabouts, all of which led to dead ends. About a month ago Weiss had called Will and asked him to come help take my dad home from a bar where he had passed out. Since that night he had been attending AA meetings and has assured Will that he was just having a bad night and that it won't happen again.
Now, as I lay here, the world feels like it is weighing down on me but I know the only thing I can do is be honest and wait for this to all work itself out; they can't keep me locked up forever, eventually they have to release me. And then, well, then I figure out what I am going to do.
I look up when I hear a noise at the door, psyching myself up for more needles and scopes.
"How are you holding up?" Vaughn's voice brings goosebumps to the surface of my skin. "You look beat."
"Hey, Vaughn," I swing my legs over the side of the bed and sit up. "I'm fine, don't worry, I'm just taking a break from everything. This bed is nice and soft which is more than I can say for where I slept last night."
"I'm sorry for that, Syd, I'll try to get you a better mattress," Vaughn walks over to stand in front of me. "That cell hasn't gotten a lot of use since your mother was in there."
"Where is my mother," the mention of her piques my interest. "No one has said anything about her."
"We're not sure. We have been looking for her almost as long as we looked for you. At first we kept finding evidence of her in different places but we were always a couple days too late in following her path and then one day everything just disappeared. Since then we hadn't found a thing. It's like she was leading us purposefully for the first part and then didn't want to be found at all, she is a smart woman, a woman whose motives are impossible to understand."
I simply shrug and stare at my hands sitting in my lap; my arms dotted with bandages, reminders of the day's ordeal. I feel Vaughn's hand on my chin, drawing my face so he can see in my eyes.
"Sydney, this is all going to be over soon and you will be out of here," Vaughn smiles. "They can't hold you without evidence and they have to take your record into consideration. Don't worry, everything is going to be all right."
I know the words are supposed to comfort me and suppose on some level they do, but looking in his eyes and listening to him tell me that I am going to be free to live my life, to return to the real world makes want to punch him. I jerk my chin out of his hold and stand up from my seated position, pushing against his chest with both of my hands.
"Screw you, Vaughn. When I get out of here things are not going to be the same. Things are not okay. Everyone else has gone on living their lives while I was gone, even grieving for me. But as for me, I have no idea where I have been and what has been done to me and I have lost two years of my life. My two years have gone unlived and that sucks - it's downright shitty. Don't you tell me not to worry, Vaughn, I'm not your problem to fix anymore. I don't blame you for getting married - you thought I was dead - but don't expect me to be okay with it, to just be able to pretend it doesn't matter and that my life is just fine."
"Sydney, I didn't come here to upset you," Vaughn holds his hands up in peace.
"I know, I know," I sit back down, "But I am upset, I can't help it. Give me some time, I'm sure I'll get over it, that I'll get over you. I mean I can't love a married man forever, can I?"
The question hangs in the air and before Vaughn can respond I continue, "I've only had a day to get over you - give me another 20 months, maybe that will do the trick."
I've hurt him; I can see it as soon as I look at him. His eyes have gone cold, his arms crossed protectively over his chest. I'm amazed with myself - how my emotions can fly from confused to betrayed to furious to sad in a matter of seconds. Silently, Vaughn turns to leave but quickly turns back to face me.
"Sydney, you can think whatever you like, but whether I have gotten over you or not is only something I know and you can't tell me who or what is in my heart. But things have happened that are out of both of our controls and whether you are able to feel it or admit it, we have been apart for two years and I wish I could change that, I do," he throws his arms up in the air and light hits the ring on his left hand. "I'm married and hopefully you can someday understand why, but I didn't do it to hurt you. Losing you felt like losing a part of myself, I couldn't protect you but you are back and I will be damned if I am going to let your feelings of disappointment and betrayal keep me from making sure you are all right."
"Do you love her, Vaughn," his tirade has had its intended effect, I feel horrible, "Does she love you? Are you happy?"
"Why does it matter, Syd? I mean, do you really want to hear the answers?" He's avoiding my questions.
"I don't ask questions if I don't want the answers to them."
"Yes, she loves me and we're happy," Vaughn says flatly. "Look, I really have to go, I shouldn't have even stopped by. I'll check on you later tonight, before I leave."
One of the doctors appears at the door before I can adequately reply so I simply nod and wave as he backs out of the room.
I watch him walk down the hall and smile despite myself - he didn't answer my first question. He didn't say that he loved his wife.
I truly am a Sydney/Vaughn fan, but I am taking my time with this, you will just have to be patient. Good things come to those who wait. Thanks for taking the time to read. Let me know if you want more.