A/N: Sorry for the forever taking update. As always, thanks to Sandpiper. :-) Oh, and I apologize for making you wait so long for a chapter that I feel is just filler. Hope you like it anyway
Written in Blood Chapter "Eight Welcome to Existence"
When I returned home, I didn't bother to stop in the Ops Center or at my apartment. I called my father on the way home from the airport and an hour later, he met me in the warehouse, barricaded gray eyes staring down at me as if preparing for what he seemed to know was coming.
Of course he was right. I got straight to the point. "What the hell did you do?" I demanded, my voice clouded In a tone I couldn't re-enact if I tried.
"I understand you're upset-" It was a statement of what was blatantly true. There was no curiosity or doubt in his words.
"Upset? Upset doesn't even begin to describe-"
"If you would let me explain for one minute," he cut in.
"Alright. Explain." I said. My arms crossed involuntarily over my chest as I threw back the glare I'd inherited from him.
It was a challenge, one that he was all too willing to step up to. "Where exactly, Sydney, would I have benefited from the arrest of an officer whom, despite his inexperience and… inadvisable development of emotional involvement, has shown nothing but respectable, decent work in the progression of SD-6's atrophy?"
I could almost feel my eyes darkening. "I don't know. Maybe the same way you'd benefit from almost killing Vaughn and me in attempt to frame my mother, or the same way you'd benefit from brainwashing your six year old daughter."
His breath hitched visibly. I'd struck a nerve. And I was glad. "Sydney-"
"You were supposed to switch the blood, and they found him to be a match anyway. Unless you and Vaughn had a blood transfusion prior to the test that you forgot about and I was unaware of, there's no way the blood in the vile marked as Vaughn's came from your veins. And there's only one reasonable explanation for that," I locked my eyes on his again, confirming my implication. "Now Vaughn is in a maximum security prison being treated as a terrorist."
The tears were beginning to signal to my eyelids, biting and scratching stingingly to be freed. My father, too, it seemed, had reached his breaking point. "Sydney, this argument is ridiculous. I switched the blood samples. I know you're upset about Vaughn and it's obviously distorting your thinking, but regardless, I have no idea how he was discovered. I can promise you that I had nothing to do with it.
"Believe whatever you want, but while you're wasting time convincing yourself that I'm at fault, there is an actual threat somewhere causing the damage. I suggest that you compose of yourself so that we can get an idea as to what it is and attempt to help Vaughn."
I stared down at the dirt encrusted cement floor and remembered Vaughn's eyes as Burkey and Buscher led him away. I said nothing.
"Are you ready to start thinking clearly now?" my father asked, his tone annoyingly condescending.
I nodded anyway, knowing he was right.
"Good. I'll come up with something to suede the tech lab to run some investigations in medical. In the meantime, you should see Kendall about allowing you to 'confront the convict who threatened your life'."
There was such a mocking tone of dry humor in the phrase that I had to smirk. "Ok. Bye, Dad." I turned to exit the warehouse.
"Sydney?" And I turned back around to face my dad again. "Vaughn will be fine. We'll get him out."
I smiled just the slightest, now feeling a little immature and guilty about my premature accusations. "Thanks. I hope so."
........................
So I did it. I stalked up to Kendall and stated, almost verbatim, what my father had suggested. "I'd like to interrogate the prisoner."
"Agent Bristow, so nice to see you here this afternoon. I had a feeling you'd be dropping in."
"Tell the guards I'm coming through."
Kendall smirked. Oh God, I hate that smirk beyond words or reason. "I'm sorry, Agent Bristow, but you don't have clearance to see Mr. Vaughn."
"What the hell do you mean I don't have the clearance?" I seethed, my annoyance beginning to blossom into almost uncontrollable anger. "He was my handler for a year and a half before you decided that he was a 'threat to my life.' I think I'd be more affective than any of the agents you probably have down there verbally torturing him."
Kendall stared at me, arms folded, the smirk wiped from his face. Now he just looked perturbed. I fixed an equally hard gaze at him and he blinked before replying, "Agent Bristow, I can't allow it."
I scoffed, not caring much if I showed too much emotion in my words. "I'm seeing Vaughn with your permission or not. I told you as a courtesy."
Another unannounced staring contest ensued. Apparently I won, because Kendall sighed in frustration. "Alright, Agent Bristow. Go ahead and do all the 'interrogating' you want. You have ten minutes."
"Thanks."
............................
The guards didn't give me nearly as much trouble about clearance as Kendall did. They saw me approaching and simply moved aside, no questions asked; though I felt their cold eyes burning holes through my back as I walked through the lifting gate and towards Vaughn's cell.
He sat on the metal bench in the otherwise vacant little room, staring down at the floor as his thumbs circled each other slowly in his clasped hands. I just looked for a moment, taking a shuddering breath before I made my presence known. "Vaughn."
He looked up, startled, and a tiny smile flashed through his eyes as he moved quickly forward to the glass separating us. "Syd, hey."
"How are you?" I asked quietly, not feeling keen about the guards being included in our conversation.
He smiled sheepishly. "Two meals of canned meat a day, shower every other day, a metal bed and no heat, and three heavily armed men outside keeping tabs on my every move. I'm in paradise. And you?"
Despite the situation, I felt the corners of my mouth tugging up. "Yeah, I guess it was a stupid question. But it's good to know you still have a sense of humor."
We stood there with these out-of-place smiles on our faces, just staring at each other in silence for what seemed like the full ten minutes. Then Vaughn's smile faded a little and he said softly, "Syd, I was serious about the last part. Are you okay?"
How could he even ask me that? "I'm not the one on your side of the cell."
"You didn't answer the question."
I sighed. "I'm fine. Just worried about you," I lowered my voice even further and whispered, "I'm going to get you out of there, Vaughn. I promise."
His green eyes sparkled a little and he nodded. "I don't doubt it, Syd. But please, don't worry about me. I'll be fine," he promised, and the sincerity in his soft voice almost made me believe him.
I nodded a little back and felt a thin, glossy film begin to form over my eyes. Of course, Vaughn noticed. He said nothing, but placed one hand through the small opening in the glass used to pass meals to the prisoners. I understood and my hand met his in the gap, immediately feeling relief rush through me at our contact. He laced his fingers through mine and I squeezed his hand lightly.
We stood this way, no more words between us, until a guard called out and shattered our seemingly impossible peace. "Agent Bristow, time's up."
Reluctantly, our hands pulled apart and my stomach knotted again. "I've got to go," I whispered. "Bye, Vaughn."
He gave me one more "Stop worrying about me" glance and a small smile, hen replied, "Bye, Syd."
I walked slowly away, staring over my shoulder at him until the guards lowered the gate behind me. Quickly, I wiped away the one tear that had escaped and made my way back upstairs to the main room of the Ops Center, a new determination sweeping over me. There had to be a way to prove Vaughn's innocence, and I was going to find it.