A Death's Toll
Vaughn couldn't believe this was happening. His wife was dead. His world was spinning out of control. He leaned his back against the door to Lauren's room and ran a hand through his hair and down his face. He swallowed his tears as he tried to retain his composure. He wasn't very successful. The woman he loved – one of the women he loved – was now a lifeless corpse. At that moment, Vaughn wanted to just curl up into a ball and die. He didn't know if he had the strength to go through another death of someone he loved. But he had to be strong now. He had to see his wife for the last time.
He breathed out deeply, some unrestrained tears falling down his cheeks, and entered her room. Seeing the figure of his wife under a white sheet made his stomach turn. Tears were falling freely now as he lifted the sheet to look at her face. Her head was wrapped in gauze, blood having seeped through, and several cuts marred her features. But, she was still so beautiful to him. He ran his hand through her hair and leaned down to kiss her lips. He wanted to shake her and scream at her to respond. Instead he kneeled down next to her and whispered softly into her ear, "I love you, Lauren." Tears still blurring his vision, he rose and left the room.
Vaughn had no idea what to do now or where to go. He certainly didn't want to go back to his empty house filled with now painful memories. So he decided to just drive around until he found some relief from this torturous night. Soon, he found his way to bar and dragged himself inside.
A few hours later, he stumbled back to his car, much more relaxed and relieved at this moment. Deep down, he knew that he shouldn't be driving, but after this night, he really didn't care. And anyway, it was nearly four o'clock in the morning, so practically no one would be out on the street right now, he reasoned. Ironically, drunk as he was, Vaughn was the one who made it home safely, not Lauren. He inwardly laughed at his luck, but perhaps it was really his misfortune, he thought.
He dragged himself inside and decided that a few more beers wouldn't hurt. Soon after, he mercifully fell asleep, or more like passed out on his couch.
There was a depressing briefing at the Ops Center later that morning. Sydney, Jack, Marshall, and Weiss all listened respectfully to Dixon as he passed on the news.
"Last night, there was a car accident. Lauren Reed was killed. There will be a memorial service next week."
The room was full of shocked silence.
"Where's Vaughn?" Sydney piped up, immediately concerned for him.
"He's at home. He obviously won't be coming in today."
They were all dismissed to go back to work. But Sydney could hardly concentrate; she was too worried about Vaughn. How was he handling this latest tragedy? Was he going to be all right? What could he possibly be doing right now?
Sydney was so distracted that she was hardly accomplishing anything at work, and so she decided to leave early. When she left, she immediately drove to Vaughn's house. She understood all too well the pain he must be feeling again, and she only hoped that she could somehow help him through it.
When she reached his house, she knocked on his door. There was no response.
"Vaughn?" she called. "It's Sydney. Are you there?" Still nothing.
She tried the door knob, and surprisingly found it unlocked. She entered quietly, scanning the room for Vaughn. She spotted him on the couch, staring blankly into empty space. She made her way to him through the empty beer bottles that littered the floor and sat next to him, regarding him worriedly.
He had in his hand a picture of Lauren holding a small plush bear. He didn't even acknowledge that Sydney was there, but he just started speaking absently in a broken voice. "We went to a carnival last year. She spotted this bear hanging from one of the booths and decided that she wanted me to win it for her. It cost eight dollars worth of balls to knock all of those damn pins down, but I won it. She was so happy. So… alive…"
"Vaughn?" Sydney spoke softly. "Vaughn," she said louder as she shook him a little. "Michael, look at me."
He finally turned his head towards her and stared at her through pain stricken eyes.
"Oh Vaughn…" she whispered touching his cheek softly. "It's going to be all right."
He pulled back roughly from her touch. "You don't know that!" he whispered harshly.
"Vaughn, you've pulled through everything you've come to face. You'll get through this too. I know it'll be hard, but you can do it."
"I nearly died when I lost you, Sydney. How am I supposed to go through this again!"
"You can let me help you. You don't have to do it alone."
"I… I don't think you should help me with this, Syd."
"What? Why not? I know you'd do it for me, Vaughn, and I want to help you too."
"It's just that…" He trailed off, and then suddenly pulled her to him in a rough kiss.
Sydney could taste the alcohol in his breath. She had no idea what he thought he was doing, so she pulled back sharply.
"Vaughn! Wha—"
He took a deep breath. "I loved my wife. But, I still love you, Sydney. I can't keep my thoughts away from you; I couldn't even when I was married. I can't mourn for my wife when all I can think about is loving you."
"Vaughn…" she murmured. "I… I lov—"
"Please don't," he broke in, pressing his fingers to her lips. "Don't say it. It'll just make things harder." He sighed. "I think you should leave."
Sydney stared at him through narrowed, hurt eyes. She wanted to say more to him, but she thought it would be better to talk to him when he was more sober. But, she had to say this.
"Vaughn, if you don't want me to help, let Eric, or a therapist. Just please talk to somebody. You can't torture yourself. I won't let you."
"I'll think about it."
"Vaughn—"
"Please, Syd. I'm tired," he sighed.
"All right," she said quietly. "I'll see you later."
After she left, Vaughn went to the kitchen to drown himself in alcohol once more.
TBC
