Wrestling Emotions

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Wow, AnnaSun, that had to be the fastest I have ever gotten a review after posting. ;) Thanks! … Thanks, Raina/minirussel, I'm glad you like it… Haha! CryHope, my thoughts exactly… And, valley-girl2, that review must have taken forever! Thank you so much!

Thanks for reading, everyone! And if you have a second, please let me know what you think…

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Chapter 6: Delirium

"I'll get it," Vaughn murmured, his fingertips lingering on her cheekbone as the phone rang once more, screaming for someone to answer it.

He sighed, wishing he could make the phone stop, wishing she hadn't closed her mouth so tightly at its sudden ringing that the words she had been about to say were unable to escape. Wishing, too, that she had said them anyway, that the phone hadn't scared them away.

He already knew what the words would be, almost exactly what she would say. He could see it in her eyes every time she looked at him, every time she touched him or his fingers brushed against her. He could hear it in the way she said his name, whispering it softly in the night when she thought he was asleep, calling to him across the Ops Center after she had returned from a mission, gasping it, screaming it into the air when they made love.

But skulking in the back of his mind, lingering near Doubt and Cynicism, stealing from Self-Confidence, and sharing with Fear, was a mutated monster of a thought, whispering to him that he was wrong, that she didn't feel the same way he did.

He had bashed it, bruised it, cut it, and clawed at it thousands of times, but had never succeeded in destroying it completely. Somehow it always returned, always came back, despite the damage he had done to it.

Sydney's voice was what he needed to kill it. She had no idea what a powerful weapon her voice, those words would have been, how they would have freed him from the monster once and for all. She surely would have spoken if she had, damn the phone and any other interruptions.

Shrill and demanding, the phone rang for a third time, and he realized that without knowing it, he had already made his way across the room, that his fingers were practically touching the receiver, only had to move a quarter of an inch to pick it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey man."

"Eric." The word was both a greeting and a statement, as he made eye contact with Sydney, letting her know who was on the phone. Her eyes smiled into his, and the "Hi" that followed his friend's name was almost strangled on its way out his throat.

"I sit with the tech guys for hours to bring you this information and that's the greeting I get?"

"Sorry. We were just on our way out the door."

Which was the truth, more or less, and a lot easier to say to a friend than, You just interrupted what might have been a crucial moment in my love life. But go ahead; it can wait…

"Oh, alright. I'll get right to the point then…" Weiss took a deep breath to continue, and for a moment, Vaughn thought that they were actually going to be able to complete a business conversation without a string of his friend's amusing, if sometimes offensive innuendos and sidetracked thoughts. A shocking notion, but apparently a wrong one. "Hey, how was your first night playing daddy?"

Vaughn sighed, glancing up to where Sydney stood near the door, intent on signaling to her that this could take awhile. "It was…"

But his eyes came into contact with her form much sooner than he had anticipated. She had crossed the room, backing into his arms and laying her head on his shoulder, seemingly unable to stand without his touch. Vaughn put his arm around her, his fingers running circles over her shoulder. Ilya had settled once again, thumb held securely in his mouth.

"…fine. Everything was fine."

Fine was an awful word. One of those that you offer to someone you don't really know when they ask you how your day went, and you don't feel like launching into a long explanation. A word that arouses suspicion in those close to you, that somehow always sounds unnatural as it makes its way out of your mouth. And Weiss was sure to call him on it.

"Fine? Ha!"

Another deep breath was heard through the phone, and Vaughn knew what was coming next: some inappropriate comment that Sydney was sure to hear with to her sharp ears and proximity to the receiver. She was more than used to Weiss' antics and comments, but Vaughn still attempted to prevent them whenever he could.

"Eric…"

Luckily for Vaughn, this appeared to be one of Weiss' good days. A hint of warning in the tone was all he needed.

"She's standing right there, isn't she?"

"And she can hear every word you're saying," Sydney stated, turning her head up toward the phone, unable to resist making her way into the conversation. She glanced up at Vaughn apologetically, but he held the phone away from his face and gently kissed the corner of her mouth to tell her that there was no need to apologize.

Weiss seemed taken aback at her comment, surely thinking that it was some kind of woman know-all, that Sydney was a psychic, or could project her voice over long distances. The silence stretched over a few seconds, and Vaughn thought for a moment that Weiss would actually behave. But…

"So now would not be a good time to mention that I think your girlfriend's got…"

Sydney's clipped "Watch it, Weiss" intermingled with Vaughn's drawn out "Eric…" so perfectly that it was impossible to hear or imagine one without the other. Vaughn didn't know whether Weiss had actually been able to make out either of these statements separately, but it didn't matter. He had been sufficiently shut up.

"Is there a reason for all this?" Vaughn asked finally, willing this conversation to come to an end, wishing that he and Sydney were back at the door before the phone rang, that…

"Of course," Weiss answered almost too quickly, angry at the implied accusation. "Devlin told me to call you and let you know that we've looked over those documents."

"And?"

"And to remind you that you were supposed to email him."

Damn. He knew he had forgotten something. But there had been so much else to take care of and there was still so much more to…

Sydney nuzzled closer to his neck, sighing, her breath rushing against his throat. He knew that the move had most likely been unconscious on her part, that Ilya was probably heavy and she was trying to adjust the weight, but he couldn't help the reaction it stirred within him.

He swallowed. Hard.

Email… They would get to that eventually. First there was this phone call, then grocery shopping, and then he would be damned if he couldn't find a way to make Ilya go down for a nap for just an hour… hell, he'd take fifteen minutes if that's all they could get, but first things first…

"What did you find in the documents?"

"They're authentic and even better than we expected. Gave us a real heads up on the capabilities of that compound and the technology that dangerous rogue groups in that area have access to as a result of it. So I guess it worked out better this way, huh?"

Vaughn tightened his grip on Sydney even before she tensed within his arms. He tried to calm her, increasing the pressure of his fingers and whispering tender, reassuring words into her ear: French, he realized a moment later, just as he remembered that he should have taken the phone away from his mouth.

They may have gotten more information this way, but at what cost? Did Weiss even have any idea how many people had to die for them to get that little bit of intelligence?

But Vaughn couldn't blame him. It would be difficult to imagine the torture and pain unless he had experienced it firsthand, had seen the horror that lurked in Sydney's eyes afterwards, the fear that still hid within Ilya's…

"Mike? Hey… What are you doing? Please tell me that "we're on our way out the door" was not code for…"

He had known it had to have happened sooner or later. They had made it pretty damn far in the conversation, all things considered, but still…

"Is there anything else, Eric?"

"I'm serious, man. I already have the visual from the time I opened that closet in the Ops Center. I really don't need to add sound…"

Sydney flushed with the memory. He could feel the blood rush to her cheeks and ears, knew that as embarrassing as it had been, she was also smiling, because, well, let's just say that Weiss' slight interruption hadn't deterred them from completing their activities…

"Eric, please. We were on our way to the grocery store."

"Okay. Sure. Whatever you wanna call it. I just want you to know, that I have been afraid to open a closet ever since then. It takes me an extra half an hour to get dressed in the morning…" Weiss could sense his friend's patience slowly dwindling and quickly got to the point. "They sent a team to Russia almost as soon as you got back, but didn't find much. The bodies were gone and they only found a few bullets; the rest were too far buried in the snow. Apparently it's a hell of a place up there."

He didn't need to tell either of them that.

"Thanks for the info, Eric."

"Just doing my job. Take care of yourself on your days off," he responded, a hint of bitterness edging his voice. "Oh, and watch it. Some nasty virus has been going around here the past couple of days. I swear, half the office is out. I think I might be coming down with it. Do I sound sick enough to get out of work tomorrow, ya think?"

Sydney shifted Ilya to her other arm, adjusting her weight against Vaughn in the process, the parts of his body that had become almost used to the pressure of her body suddenly relieved and new ones tingling.

He sighed. It was time to bring this conversation to a close. "Eric, we really have to go."

"Please, by all means. Just try not to scar little Ivan too much…"

"Ilya," Sydney stated into the phone, the little boy glancing up as she said his name, his eyes catching Vaughn's and not breaking away.

"Ilya, Ivan. Whatever… Oh crap, that tech guy's back. Damn guy must be immune to the flu… I gotta go."

The phone clicked, the dial tone reverberating in his ear before Vaughn had a chance to say goodbye. He hung up without a word, forcing his eyes away from Ilya's and kissing Sydney on the temple. The little boy might be the one in her arms now, but it would be his turn later; he would make sure of it.

His new objective was to get through grocery shopping in as little time as possible. And he vowed not to touch Sydney until they were back in the apartment and Ilya was fast asleep. Because God, if he did… if he even laid one finger on her…

Too late. He had forgotten that she was still pressed against his body, still in his arms. Forgotten, that is, until she turned, brushing herself against him in the process, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek, nearly repeating the intensity of the moment they had had before the phone rang.

But this time… This time Eric's teasing had brought lust to the forefront, images from what he had once jokingly referred to as "the christening of the Ops Center" flashing vividly through Vaughn's mind.

"Vaughn…"

And he broke his vow, pressing a lingering kiss against her forehead, kept from going any further by the little boy's eyes that seemed to be drilling through his skull. Vaughn glanced up, almost angrily meeting Ilya's gaze. But behind those penetrating, serious eyes was a little boy who was far too adorable to stay mad at for more than three seconds; even Vaughn had to admit that.

"… Ready?"

He sighed, his lopsided smile beaming forth at the laughter he could see playing in her eyes. He knew that she felt exactly as he did, but was somehow doing much better at concealing it, instead enjoying his own frustration. Just wait until…

"Vaughn?" She didn't hide the laughter this time, trying and failing to edge her voice with impatience.

"Yeah," he answered, completely forgetting not to touch her (it had been an impossible goal) and threading his fingers through hers. "Let's go."

And so they left for the grocery store, neither of them realizing how much their lives had already changed, how much further they would…

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"Syd…"

His weak and raspy voice called to her from their dark bedroom; she had been in the office, trying for what seemed like the millionth time to get Ilya to speak, to make any noise whatsoever. Her ears so finely attuned to his voice that she stopped mid-sentence at the sound of her name, as soft as it had been.

She was torn with relief and fear at the hum of Vaughn's voice, hoping more than anything that he was better, that he actually was awake this time, shivering as she remembered when  he had spoken the night before...

Plunking Ilya into his crib and handing him his stuffed dinosaur, she headed down the hall to check on her new patient. Thankfully, little Ilya felt much better. He still startled easily and refused to speak, but his temperature had quickly returned to normal. The Infants' Tylenol had been stowed away in the medicine cabinet, the grape flavor more than half full and the cherry still sealed.

But the Extra-Strength Tylenol had been taken down, sitting on the nightstand in their bedroom. Vaughn lay in bed beside it, his pounding head not nearly as bad as it had been the night before. Now, he only felt tired, as if he hadn't slept forever, and silently cursed Eric for even mentioning the flu the other day.

It had been two days since they had gone to the grocery store, two days since everything had seemed so perfect. Of course, Ilya had refused to either take a nap that afternoon or go to sleep at a reasonable hour that night. Once they had finally gotten him to settle down in the early hours of the morning, Sydney had looked so exhausted that Vaughn felt bad trying even one of the thousands of seduction tactics that had been coursing through his mind throughout the day.

So they had slept, but not as peacefully as either would have hoped. Vaughn had woken up with a slight fever the next morning. He had insisted that he was fine, but slowly worsened throughout the day and finally had to give in to the fact that he was ill.

That night, his temperature had spiked near 104, making Sydney nearly out of her mind with worry. He had awakened them both, thrashing and sweating profusely, mumbling in his delirium. She had tried to quiet him, struggling desperately to bring his fever down at the same time.

His slurred words had just begun to make sense and she had been trying her best to answer them, when he had suddenly fallen back asleep. It would have been the most anxious he had ever seen her… if he could remember much of what had happened the night before…

Vaughn had barely realized that he had called her name upon waking, almost surprised when Sydney appeared in the doorway, gliding quickly and silently to his side and sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing a gentle hand across his forehead.

"What's the matter, honey?"

No matter how tired he was, despite how his body ached, he still smiled, the grin somehow widening further as she pressed her lips against his forehead, checking his temperature but ending the gesture with a kiss. She had never called him anything but Vaughn before, and to hear such sweet, gentle words from her was almost worth getting sick.

He felt her cool sigh against his skin, knew that relief had triggered it. Instantly, the guilt crawled upon him, creeping through the aching tiredness. Sydney sensed the change in him immediately, sensed the elation that he had felt at her presence hastily slip away.

"Vaughn? You okay?"

Even in the dimness, he could see how her eyes were glazed over with worry. He didn't know for sure, but he could sense that she had been up most of the night, afraid to close her eyes in case his didn't open. But he had no idea that anxiety was not all that had kept her awake, that something he had said in his delirium had forced her eyes open even when she wanted them so desperately to close.

Sydney kept a soft smile pasted on her face, truly glad that he was better and not wanting him to be anxious about her, trying desperately to show him that she was all right. But more than that, not wanting to have to tell him that…

"You probably shouldn't stay in here too long," Vaughn mused, interrupting her thoughts, sitting up and gently pushing her hands away as she tried to keep him down. "You don't want to get sick, too."

"I'm fine," she murmured. She had been exposed enough already. It would take more than the flu to keep her away from his side of the bed. The only difference had been that she had had him in her arms instead of the other way around.

She kissed him to emphasize her words, placing her lips gently against his own. And as much as he knew that she shouldn't be doing that, he couldn't help but respond, powerless to resist to the spell she had cast over him long ago

Vaughn didn't quite believe her, but didn't want to press the issue any further; he hadn't really wanted her to leave, after all. Sydney didn't tell him that she already felt a little under the weather, that she was probably already coming down with whatever he had, that she hadn't been able to keep anything down since breakfast yesterday.

"I don't get sick," Sydney added, hoping that the power of her own mind would be enough to persuade her as well as him, not wanting to be as sick as Vaughn had been or to have to push the responsibility of caring for Ilya onto him…

Sydney didn't know exactly what triggered it. She had remained steadfast in all types of situations before, and surely should have been able to in this one. But all the emotion that had been wound so tightly within her burst forth, and suddenly she couldn't take it anymore, hated this game of pretending that nothing had happened, that everything would be okay.

"God…" That one word wavered on the verge of tears. She brought a hand to the back of his head, burying her face in his neck as she mumbled, "You scared the hell out of me last night."

Last night…

Last night was a series of blurred pictures and blackness, almost like a dream, but even too screwed up to be considered that. He couldn't remember waking up completely, had felt her nudging him, heard her speaking, but couldn't make out the words, couldn't shake himself from sleep.

He knew that he had spoken, the words had poured from his lips, slurred together drunkenly. He had been completely powerless to stop them, completely at the mercy of his subconscious. And he had no idea what he had said to her, what she had been able to make out of his indiscernible babble…

"What happened?" It took him a moment to come up with even those words, but it was all he could think of to ask.

"You were burning up. Delirious… I never thought I'd get the fever to go down…" She brought her face up to look at him, millimeters from his own, her eyes so deep that he felt he could dive into them and never reach bottom. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Vaughn considered telling her that he was sorry, even opened his mouth to say the words. But she anticipated them, stopping him with a few gentle fingers pressed against his lips. "Don't," she murmured, tears shining in her eyes. "It's not your fault."

And he didn't, would never do anything that she had asked him not to, not something like that. So when she took her fingers away, his mouth formed a question instead, one that he was almost scared to ask, thought he knew the answer to and was hoping desperately would be wrong.

"What did I say?"

"Nothing," she answered, a little too quickly, fear and sadness flashing through her eyes for a fraction of a second before she smiled, standing up and walking to the door. "I'll go get you some ginger ale."

His stomach flip-flopped, not from sickness but from the thought of it; his heart sank when the realization hit him. It was all he could have, would have said to her in his fever, all that had been on his mind for days…

"Syd."

She stopped as he said her name, letting the word linger in the air between them, thick and heavy. Her hand was on the doorframe, frozen there, not letting her turn to face him.

"Syd, did I…" He trailed off, unable to put the rest to words.

But it didn't matter. Sydney knew.

"Yeah," she answered, almost too softly to be heard.

But he did hear it, regret hitting him instantly, smacking him square in the face and nearly knocking him over. She hadn't wanted to tell him, hadn't wanted to bother him while he was still sick, maybe never would have told him at all. But there it was, hovering between them, thick as fog in the valley, frigid as a sudden blast of wind on an already chilly day.

She was motionless, waiting for him to speak, waiting for his reaction. Wasn't even breathing for fear that she would miss his words. The two of them could communicate without words perfectly, but there were times, times like this, when they were needed more than anything, more than food, sunlight, and air combined.

"Syd, I didn't mean…"

Fear shot through her, an arrow from her mind straight to her heart, nearly piercing and shattering it, causing it to skip a beat. She stopped him there, not wanting to hear the rest, the fear filling it in for her, putting words there that she couldn't bear to hear spoken aloud.

"Vaughn. It's okay."

She turned and even smiled at him, willing to forgive and forget. To live as if for the night she hadn't, letting it fade away until she couldn't be sure whether it was a dream or reality, would never remember that it had actually happened.

But he couldn't let it go like that, couldn't let the uncertainty hang in the air, lingering until it felt like fading away, finally forgotten. It would be over him forever, even when it was the right time, when he was fully conscious and aware, when he bent down and finally asked her if…

"No, Syd." His eyes piercing through her, nestling next to her heart. He let himself smile softly, almost shyly, couldn't help it, she was so damn beautiful. "I didn't mean to ask you like that."

Suddenly, she became very conscious of the doorframe that her hand still lingered on, the only thing keeping her from falling to her feet. A rush of air left her, the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding finally releasing itself. Her eyes and smile told him that she loved him, but the words were stuck in her throat.

He heard them anyway, heard her heart singing to him, felt her arms wrap around him and her lips on his own even though they weren't really there. That one soft smile, those two emotion-filled eyes were enough to convey all this to him, and he knew from the way she sighed and shivered that his own eyes were reflecting hers.

Vaughn left his question from last night unanswered. He didn't ask it again, knew she wasn't waiting for him too, that it wasn't the right time, that both of them could wait.

Sydney slowly turned to leave the room, the moment too intense for her to stay rooted in one spot, the momentum of it pushing her forward. So she turned to walk out the door, rather than join him in bed, knowing that he still needed his rest.

But Vaughn was not content to let his mistake stand like that, to let silence be the only thing that spoke for both of them. Almost twisting himself up in the sheets in his hurry to get out of bed, he sprang across the room, not sure where he found the energy to reach the door before she completely walked through it.

He grabbed her wrist, yanking her backwards, somehow keeping her from hitting both the wall and the doorframe; pulling her into his body, her head in both his hands for the simple reason that one was not going to be good enough this time. Her startled gasp was smothered by his lips, drawn out into a nearly strangled moan.

She was lost in him, always lost in him, no matter how many thousands of times they had done this, trusting him to whisper her through, always hoping he would lead her deeper into his depths instead of showing her the way out.

Of everything that she remembered and treasured and savored about him, this was the only time she would always forget. So rapt in this one kiss that surely all the others that came before it could not have been this good; she would have died if they had been, couldn't remember that they were, that each one had been too infinitely wonderful to be surpassed.

He bombarded her senses, making her forget everything else, anything else, until they were the only two left, until even air didn't matter. And the beauty of it, perhaps what was the best of all, was that she knew he felt the same way, that he was just as mesmerized, just as lost in her as she was in him.

Maybe ten seconds. Probably less. But it didn't matter, because regardless of the length of time, it seemed to have stretched on to forever; the moment their lips touched, it was sweet rapture, pure bliss.

But Sydney knew she had to pull away; she had known the moment he had touched her, although that hadn't stopped her from returning what was offered. But he still needed his rest; she could sense how tired he was, how standing was becoming effort.

It took her even more effort for her to pull away, tearing her lips from his and resting against his forehead. He smiled down at her, hands still holding up her head, fingers playing against her hair.

No words were exchanged, none needed now. She pressed a gentle kiss onto his lips, unable to resist them and almost letting him pull her in for more. But she stood back, and he offered her one more shy smile before retreating to the bed without her asking.

Sydney left then, murmuring something about getting his ginger ale, and checking on Ilya before she walked by his room. The little boy had fallen asleep, one arm encircling the stuffed dinosaur's neck, the other holding his thumb securely in his mouth. Sydney covered him with a blanket, completely forgetting anything else that she was supposed to do and standing by the side of his crib.

She watched the child sleep, knew that in their room, Vaughn was sleeping too. And let herself be lulled into a daydream, the words of the night before playing over and over in her head, now something that would be treasured forever instead of erased…

"Sydsydsyd, baby…"

"Shh, Vaughn. It's okay…"

"Please, Syd. Please… You hafta say yes. You gotta say yes. You just can't… say no…"

"Say yes to what?"

"Please, Syd, baby? Pleasepleaseplease… I've… I've got it all picked out."

"What?"

"All picked out, Syd. It'll look so pretty on you…. It's all picked out, I just hafta…"

"Shh, Vaughn, honey. Shh… it's okay…"

"Please, Syd. Say yes… Say you'll marry me…"

What had made it painful the next day was not the mere fact that it had taken her by surprise, that she hadn't been completely prepared… but that as soon as he finished those words, he had fallen back asleep.

Because despite the fact that she knew his words were spurred on by his fever, they nearly made her delirious as well.

And had he not fallen back asleep, had he given her the chance… she would have said yes.