Title: Different [3/10] Author: Winking Tiger Rating: PG Setting: AU; General Season 3; post Crossings Summary: Different can be good. [Sydney/OC] Dedications: I have to thank Jude for the inspiration and Mel for betaing this for me. Author's Notes: I haven't looked at this in some time, so here's assuming it's fine. I know this is on the short side, but maybe if you're all good, I'll post the next chapter really soon..

3

He caught up to me—I slow down and close my eyes in anticipation of seeing his face again. I don't stop though, I keep walking. He tries to talk to me but I am having none of it—my plan is crashing down in flames but I'll hold onto the wreckage.

"Hey, Syd, talk to me," he tries, again. I falter for a moment, look at him, but turn my head away quickly. He can't see me, not like this. He is someone I only met a few hours ago. He shouldn't know me as intimately as he would if I had revealed myself to him. "Syd, are you crying? Hey, don't—shhh, don't cry." He literally stops me, forces my face into direct view of his, and then he brings me to his chest—Casey's leash taught against his wrist—and holds me there. Only after a few moments do I let myself really fall apart.

He couldn't have understood why I was crying. All he could know is that I walked away from him and his dog and as he'd caught up to me, I fell apart in his arms. Real great way to make friends.

The worst part, though, is that even though he didn't know or understand, he's comforted me the entire time. I am standing in the middle of a paved pathway, between homes and cars and the beach. I am sobbing violently against this guy, with a dog at his side, that is almost a stranger—and he offers his strength when he knows that I have none left. If it wasn't bad enough to begin with, his insane sense of loyalty—would that be what it is?—is all too reminiscent of someone else. That someone being the man I've worked so hard to try to get over. The rest of the world had been given two years to ship up and shape up; I only had a few months, after they'd had their two years. I was doing as good as I could be. I was realizing he'd never be mine again, not in any form I'd be happy with. I was finally beginning to enjoy my life again, for what it was and not what it could have been—what I'd dreamed it would be. And this great guy decides to be my friend. Only, he's too familiar of the rock I used to lean on, the one that was cruelly yanked from under me and I've barely made it out intact.

I cry even harder after I think about that. Just when I thought I'd drained myself of all the tears in me—I cry more: more tears, more pain, more heartache. This isn't like any of the other times I've fallen apart. This is me realizing things for how they are and knowing I may never forget, it may never not hurt. Like when my mother 'died', it was painful for a really long time. After a while, time lessened my wounds, but every now and again I'd see something, hear something, smell something, and be reminded of her. And it felt as if my wounds had been ripped open, had never healed, all the time that had passed really hadn't. When I realized the truth, I didn't feel pain over the situation I used to. Maybe her actually being alive, regardless of the person that she is, made things better. But this, this is me seeing the things I loved about a man—a man that's hurt me so much—in the kindness of a stranger. Could I get any more pathetic? Is this what they call desperate?

One way or the other, I need this though. I need someone else's strength, because I have used all of mine up—I have none left in me. Before, I had someone to lean on. Before, I didn't need any extra support. Now I do, I need something else—I can't fix everything, not now. And he's here, he's offered himself. And all I can think about is Vaughn. I grew quiet, thinking, trying to breathe and ward off the headache that's approaching from all of my tears. Between the silence, my thoughts, and the physical presence of his support the fog that had encompassed my mind was clearing.

There's more then just this: memories and pain of the past, there has to be. There's Colin, he is really here, going above and beyond. Some things are real. Dealing with things like this are what I have to do. With the things that matter, that care and make things better, not worse.

Having cleared my head, I think I've composed myself. I know what I want to say, once I'm able to get my voice together. "Colin," I attempt. "Thank you—I'm sorry. I had ... I was ... You shouldn't have—really, I didn't mean to—I'm sure I look insane—you've been so kind to me—I just ... it's been—I'm so sorry." I didn't mean for it to come out like it does. My heart and lungs are too loud; I'm not sure what I actually said just now.

There is silence for a minute or two. Casey barks at a rustling leaf and then rubs against the two of us, to which Colin gives me a large grin. He laughs, and then—amazingly—I do too. "Sydney, don't be sorry," he says soothingly. "Don't ever—I know that we just met, but I'd really like to be your friend. Is that okay with you, could I be your friend?" With the gentlest voice I've ever heard, holding me—even then—and rubbing circles on my back, he looks at me. His words and the look in his eyes go straight to my soul and I feel weak in the knees. I can't help but nod my head. When he holds me tighter, hugs me reassuringly, I cry quietly against him some more.

Truth list: 9. crying drains the life out of you.

He doesn't ask any questions. I keep trying to explain to him, but I can't keep myself together for more then a few seconds. He doesn't move or say anything. I am grateful, truly grateful, for him being here, doing what he's going. Long after the last tear dropped I'm leaning against him, my head throbbing from all the crying I've done. His hands still circle my back and I keep my eyes closed—partly from an odd form of contentment and partly from exhaustion.

tbc