i reeealy don't own alias (duh)
hey dudes! thanks for reviewing...um not really sure where this is going...beginning to think i should of left this as is but never mind..um let me know what you think...dani xx
p.s sorry all my fics are so short! i don't know how you guys amnage it. i'll try make them longer from now on- they just seem such much shorter when i upload them!!!
chapter 2
It took him a little over a minute to realise he should've run out after her; that he should be sprinting to catch up with her screaming her name. He angrily wiped his face clear of tears, slamming the door behind him as darted out. It was raining; the drops were furious and heavy, yet their impact soft, barely noticed by his body. He didn't understand how it had come to this; how he had managed to hurt her so much- how had he caused her so much pain. He suddenly stopped realizing he didn't know where he was running. Where could she have gone? He knew she wouldn't go to Eric's, but it was too late anyway- he had passed his home seconds after feeing Syd's. The pier? Maybe, but it was several miles from here and he didn't have his car- he'd walked to Syd's so he could plan what he was going to say. He'd have to run. Vaughn tore towards his destination, contemplating where Sydney could be and what she could be doing. Oh Jesus. He stopped dead in his tracks. What if she- no. He screamed to himself she wouldn't. Syd's not like that, she couldn't, she wouldn't. She couldn't do that to him. He mentally slapped himself. How could you possibly be so selfish?! This is about Syd not you! She would only take her life because of the pain you had caused her, not because she'd lost you, not to hurt you! But she didn't know what pain is. He started running again, faster than before. When she died he was destroyed, demolished. He was no longer the man he had been, he was a ghost of himself, but instead of a spirit without a body, he was a body without a spirit. She was his spirit, she was his heart, his mind, his soul, leaving only the shell remaining. When he saw her in Hong Kong, his spirit and soul returned, but they were full of darkness. Finally he could see the magnitude of his grief, how unrecognisable he had become, how everything in the last two years had practically been performed on autopilot. And for a second he hated her for it. He hated her for leaving him. He hated her for telling her he gave up. He hated her to coming back from the dead, making the wound fresher, more painful. She had no concept of what true pain felt like, he was the one who had lost her, he was the one who had to carry on, move on. At least she could survive on the glimmer of hope that they would reunite; at least he hadn't died leaving her completely and utterly alone. Then it dawned upon him- she was alone, she had Weiss of course, but he was her 'drinking buddy'. He was her knew best friend and could be there for her when he was no longer allowed to. Eric was-was her knew Guardian Angel... all of a sudden it came screeching back to him, slamming into him like a bullet. "No Vaughn! You can't comfort me anymore! You're no longer my Guardian Angel! You caused this! Do you hear me? You caused this!" He sobbed as he remembered the pain of her words and the agony present in her voice. He could see the door of her home wide open, could hear her yells as he approached her house, could visualise the way her shuddering body was half sprawled and have curled up on the floor. Then he remembered the most agonising thing of all; how she had flinched in reaction to his attempt to comfort her, how she's tried to crawl away only to be stopped by the wall, and how he had inevitably made the situation worse.
He was at the pier now, the rain was coming down thick and clumsily, preventing him seeing any thing more than five foot in front of him.
"Sydney!" he screamed, his voice cracking violently with the force behind it. The sound that had just escaped from his mouth was the most terrifying thing he had ever heard and he span around wildly in an attempt to find his most treasured possession. 'No' he thought furiously to himself. 'She isn't yours anymore. How dare you think that when she isn't so much allowed to look at you or touch you in a manner, which isn't considered professional! There was a time you could say she was yours, and could place your arm around her waist, beaming with pride, honour and gratitude, but that was two years ago. Now she can't even bare to be in the same room as you let alone let you touch her.'
He had run the length of the pier twice now. She wasn't there, or at least he hadn't seen her. How did this happen? He thought desperately . How did it come to this? How did I manage to abuse her so horrifically?