A/N: OK a **HUGE** thanks goes out to Sandpiper, who did like 98% of the medical research for this chapter. You rock so much, hun, thanks a million times! Luv ya! ::hugs::

Disclaimer: I don't own Alias, but I'm sure you knew that. lol. The song Sydney sings is "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper... I don't think I was even alive when it was written, so, no, I don't own that either. lol.

Chapter Two~ Something on the Surface

Sydney POV

 
That something on the surface it
Kind of makes me nervous who says that you deserve this
And what kind of god would serve this? 
We will cure this dirty old disease
If you've got the poison I've got the remedy~ Jason Mraz~ "The Remedy"

Back in Los Angeles, the first thing we'd done when we'd gotten off the plane was rushed Vaughn to the nearest CIA hospital.

The extraction team took him, and I'd gone with them. I knew the risks, how dangerous it was for me to be in a CIA hospital, and my father took the liberty of forcefully reminding me. But knowing what I now knew, that Vaughn had put himself through so much for my safety, I couldn't let him go alone.

While my father drove back to the JTF building to drop off the manuscript, I climbed into the back of the van with a morphine sated Vaughn, holding his hand in my own as he slept what I prayed was a painless sleep.

Three hours later, I was awoken from my sleep in the armchair in the waiting room by the doctor. "We've tallied the injuries."

"And?" I braced myself.

"The laceration on his face wasn't quite as bad as you'd imagine, we managed to stitch it up somewhat easily. However, as I'm sure you noticed yourself; his nose and left ankle are badly fractured, as well as three ribs. One of the ribs snapped inwardly and punctured his right lung," he helped me up as he talked, beckoning me to follow him to Vaughn's room.

 "We also found traces of several toxic gases travel through his Respiratory system," he continued. "There wasn't enough to be fatal, just enough to make him sick, especially with his immune system still strengthening itself after his recent... illness. Also, two of his back molars were extracted, but it's nothing a dentist can't fix."

I remained silent through all of this, letting the news settle in, using all of my acting ability to prevent my face from displaying the horror I felt. I bit my tongue, feeling my mouth fill with bile. I swallowed hard, then spoke. "On his throat, there were burns."

We now stood by the side of Vaughn's hospital bed as he slept, several wires and tubes connected to him and an artificial respirator pumped air through his worn body. I had to restrain myself from sitting next to the bed and grabbing his hand, and never letting go.

Dr. Walgreen nodded. "Third degree. They were on his hands as well, and various other areas of his skin. We can treat them to an extent, but other than that they'll have to heal on they're own as much as they can.

"When he was brought in he was coughing blood... a sign that the punctured lung may have caused him hemothorax, meaning the cavity in the lung filled with blood. Sure enough, an x-ray confirmed that. He'll have to go through surgery to drain the blood."

"Alright... thank you... please contact me when the surgery is complete," I requested, aware that it was already midnight.

"It could be somewhat late-" the doctor began to warn me.

"That's okay. Contact me anyway."

I knew I may have gone too far, shown too much emotion. The doctor stared at me oddly for a second, as though I'd just begged him to take out my ribs and let Vaughn have them (though, given the opportunity, I'm sure I would have.) Then he nodded lightly. "I'll do that, Agent Bristow."

"Thank you."

Taking one last glance at Vaughn's resting figure, I smiled politely at the doctor then headed out the door for home.

Dr. Walgreen had been right. By the time he called, I could faintly hear a group of early birds whistling a song with no real tune. The sun wasn't yet rising and the sky was still black, yet the feeling of early morning lingered in the quiet hour. The red numbers on my clock read 4:48.

I hadn't even tried to sleep.

I scribbled a quick note to Francie about work calling me in early, knowing she wouldn't read it until at least seven, then raced out to my car, glancing in every direction for carefully hidden eyes and ears.

It took me a half an hour of driving down random streets, sharply turning in unplanned directions, and taking spontaneous stops at several twenty-four hour Walmarts and Rite Aids to shake the tail that had been following me.

Finally, I pulled into the almost deserted parking lot of UCLA Medical Center, a dim patch of sky beginning to fade to smoky gray in the distance.

"Visiting hours aren't until..." a graveyard shift candy striper began to tell me, not looking up from her filing behind the desk.

"I'm sorry, I'm-" I started to apologize, when she glanced up at me from her work.

"Oh, Miss Bristow... it's alright. You can go right in. He's probably sleeping though."

I thanked the girl, and walked quietly down the eerily echoic hallway, breaking into a jog as soon as I was out of her sight around the corner. I saw my shadow racing beside me on the spotless white wall, bobbing up and down an inch ahead as though trying to beat me to the room.

Finally, I reached room 163 and quietly entered, not wanting to wake him in case the anesthetics had worn off by now. I took a seat in the chair by his bed and stared at his sleeping form, feeling an all too unnerving sense of deja vu coming over me. Please let him be okay again... let him make it through again.... I pray, hoping my wishes will be enough.

"This is something I thought I'd never have to see again..." I suddenly heard myself whispering, leaning my forehead lightly against my hand. "It's something I prayed I'd never have to see again. You, lying there sick and helpless... but I can't even do anything about it this time. Vaughn, please, get better. I need you to pull through this."

I looked down and, through the thin mist of tears that had begun to gather behind my eyelids, saw his battered hand, pale in the last rays of moonlight filtering through the window. Gauze bandages covered burns from his wrist to the center of his palm, but the rest of his skin was bare.

Carefully, not wanting to damage the bandaging or bring more pain, I lifted his hand into both of my own, slowly drawing invisible circles on the exposed skin with my thumb. I could feel a tear slowly grow against my will in the corner of my eye, and begin its journey down my cheek.

Staring at him, embedded in the soft glow of the machinery and the now gradually peaking sunlight, a song I used to love flooded my thoughts, and I found myself quietly singing the words, almost a whisper, as the tears began to fall onto our hands.

 "After my picture fades and darkness has turned to gray, watching through windows you're wondering if I'm OK..." My voice cracked, emotion now choking me as I cried more freely. I read somewhere once that singing to hospital patients while they're out can actually help to relax them, even if they only hear it in the back of their mind.

So I took a deep breath and continued."Secrets stolen from deep inside...the drum beats out of time. If you're lost you can look and you will find me... time after time. If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting... time after time...."

It had been three days by the time the phone finally rang, interrupting the silence of my bedroom at 11:30 pm. With the room dark, I fumbled around for the phone then pulled it almost hastily off its cradle, upset that I'd been disturbed on my first night of peace in a while. "Hello?"

"Joey's Pizza?"

At these words, my anger melted away and I let out a long sigh I must have been holding in for the past seventy two hours. "Wrong number." I slowly and carefully placed the phone back on the receiver, staring at it for a full twenty seconds before making an effort to slow my beating heart and get out of bed.

I threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, pulled my bed tossed hair into a ponytail, and hurried out the door into the peaceful night.

Upon arriving at the warehouse, I saw his car already outside. I just about swerved into a spot, probably leaving tire marks but just not caring. All that mattered now was this building and what was waiting inside.

"Hey," I greeted as I pushed open the gate.

"Hi," he responded softly.

I rushed forward and before I had a chance to think, I was hugging him tightly. "Thank God you're okay... I thought... again... I was going to lose you...." I whispered, my voice muffled in his shoulder.

He didn't answer, just rocked me slowly as he had the first time he'd gotten out of the hospital months ago. Just as we had then, we gradually and awkwardly pulled away. He looked down at the floor and shifted his weight from foot to foot, as I've noticed he does when he's nervous.

"So... how are you doing?"

"I'm ok..." he answered. "The surgery went well. I've got about 5 inches thick of bandages wrapped around me but... at least I'm breathing."

I smiled and looked down, not sure how to phrase what I wanted to say. How could I possibly put into words everything I had to thank him for? "Vaughn..." I began, deciding to say exactly what I was thinking. And suddenly... "Vaughn, you're so stupid..."

He blinked, confused at my sudden affront. "...What?"

"You're so stupid... such an idiot.... Why would you go back, Vaughn? Why didn't you keep running.? You should have screwed the mission, you shouldn't have stopped and let them get you... you shouldn't..." I trailed off as my voice became too heavy with emotion to speak.

"Syd..." his voice was so gentle, so soft and soothing; it just made me more upset. I could have lost him, this one perfect, unfaltering thing I had in my life, I almost lost him again because he was so fucking caring.

I couldn't even explain to myself where the sudden rush of anger had come from. But suddenly I felt as though I would suffocate or explode, or implode, if I didn't make him see... if I couldn't let him know how much he mattered. "You had to let me go ahead, you couldn't just think of yourself for once... you couldn't have been selfish for just once in your life!"

He stared at me, his green eyes wide with an emotion I've seen from him all too frequently. Understanding. No matter what I do to him, no matter how badly I treat him... he's always so understanding. Why can't he think about himself for once? "Why, Vaughn? Why did you have to be so Goddamn selfless? I could have been the one in those bandages, not you. I could have been the one to suffer."

"Sydney..." Vaughn began again, and I let him continue this time. "Sydney, I never want that for you."

I gasped in a quick breath of dusty air, and blinked out the traces of tears welling at the sides of my eyes. "Vaughn... I was so worried. So worried. Don't ever scare me like that again. Don't ever do anything like that to me again!"

That's when I couldn't hold it in any longer. I collapsed into his embrace again, and he slowly cradled my head in one hand and rubbed my back with the other. Even with the roughness of the gauze on his hand against my back, his touch was electrifying. "Thank you, Vaughn," I whispered. "What you did for me back there... I can't ever repay you with just a thanks."

"It's okay, Syd," he murmured, still holding me close. "I did what I wanted to do."

"I know you did it for me... and I honestly can't put into words what that means. But Vaughn... I also can't tell you how much you mean to me, and how much I care about you. You can't give yourself up for me, I won't let you. I can't let you suffer for me."

He didn't answer that. We separated again lingeringly, and suddenly I was looking straight into his eyes without a thought of anything else. I wanted to kiss him... I was going to kiss him, I knew it. And then, suddenly, I couldn't. Not yet. It wasn't right. He'd just gotten out of the hospital; we were both vulnerable and emotional. I couldn't do it.

I lengthened the distance between us abruptly and gave him a small, unconvincing smile through my tears. He sighed and looked down again, the silence deafening. Finally, he said, "What happened to that manuscript anyway?"

I snapped my head up, not able to believe that he'd bring that up at a time like this. "It's still in analysis," I answered anyway, my voice filled with astonishment. "The special ink didn't work on it this time; they're still trying to figure out how to read it."

"Ok."

We stared at each other again for what seemed like the longest time. Vaughn coughed and I came to my senses. "I... I should probably be going," I told him, obvious regret filling my tone.

"Yeah..." he agreed.

I reached out and briefly touched his hand. "Feel better soon, okay? I know you still must be overwhelmed with everything that happened... and... you know. You have my number."

He smiled at that, a genuine smile. "Thank you." He said quietly.

With that, I turned around and left the warehouse as I always did, taking with me the pressuring emotions and desires that built up with every meeting, threatening to burst. I walked outside and took a deep breath, scattering them all out into the night.

There they would stay floating in the black oblivion of the city, hidden from all prying eyes, until Joey's Pizza called again. 

A/N: Yeah still not getting too far into the main plot of things, but there was another mention of the manuscript at least. Lol. Chapter three is where the real action starts, and there might just be some fluff included in that deal ;-) But seriously, this chap. was just to set up more of the emotional background of the fic. In fact, in my outline, it says: Chapter Two- Emotional mumbo-jumbo. :-D

Once again, muchos gracias to Sandpiper. Sorry I kept you waiting so long, hun, you ROCK! :-)