A shiver ran through her body when she found it. It had to be at least 3 inches long.
Sydney Bristow had gotten a lot of scars in her life, especially after 9 years in her... business. But this was new. She would remember obtaining a three inch scar on her abdomen. Of course it was yet another question to put on her list of unexplainable things since she had woken up. Starting with how the hell she had passed out in her apartment, and ended up waking up in Hong Kong. She had to wonder just how long she had been asleep. She was guessing anywhere from a couple days to a week. But that didn't make sense either. She should be in a hospital. She should have injuries, for hell's sake! The fight! Maybe that's where she got the scar from. But she thought about it, and she would have remember getting an injury that large, even if she was shocked by the fact that she was fighting and about to kill a living, breathing duplicate of her best friend since childhood. She groaned and longed for a distraction from this self-torture. And she most definitely got it, because at that very moment, one Mr. Michael Vaughn walked in, looking rather... She searched for the right words, but all that she could thing were the reassuring words- jet lag. That must be why he looked so awful, like he had just been contemplating saying or doing something awful. She shook off the feeling and got up.
The minute he walked into the room and saw her, he regretted it. Until she got up and hugged him. He had wanted this- needed this for such a long time. He held her back and buried his face in her hair. And then he remembered what he was doing there. And he regretted the whole thing all over again. He got her to sit down. She looked so... lost. As if she wanted to know the truth, but was afraid to hear it. He didn't blame her.
Then he made the mistake of touching his face, trying to prepare for what he was about to say. Because she beat him to it.
"Vaughn," she asked slowly. "Since when do you wear a wedding ring?"
He sighed and sadly replied, "Since I got married." Sydney looked like she was about to pass out.
Sydney thought she might pass out. "And, um," she breathed out in shock. "When did this happen?"
Vaughn looked so... sad. She would have taken pity of him if she wasn't having a major breakdown at the moment. And then it got worse.
"Sydney," he said. "There's something you need to know. You've been missing... a long time. Everyone thought you were dead. I was shocked when I got the call to come and see you."
Then the anger set in. "How long?" She couldn't believe she could go missing and actually miss Vaughn getting married.
He sighed heavily. "Almost two years."
At these words, the world fell away from her. She was aware of spinning. The tears came to her eyes, but she got control of herself and held back. She was trying her hardest to look normal, but his words were echoing inside her mind. Almost two years. It was impossible. But she took a deep breath and continued to speak.
"And so you got married... In these two years?"
He smiled sadly and replied, "That's the idea."
She was taking it well, Vaughn noted. Very well. Then he realized it was Sydney Bristow he was talking about. Her world had just fallen apart in about two minutes. Of course she would act like everything's normal. He went to grab for her hand, to comfort her, but never got the chance. For at that very moment, Sydney whacked him in the face and put him in a chokehold. He probably wouldn't have been able to refrain from smiling, if he'd had the ability to breathe at that moment. It was just so classic Sydney to beat him up.
"I don't know who the hell you are, but you're sure as hell not Michael Vaughn."
Sydney was beginning to truly dislike waking up. It seemed that every time this happened, the splitting headache she had acquired since she woke up in that stupid alleyway got worse. But mostly, it was the fact that for a few blissful moments she hadn't remembered a single thing about her night. But then she opened her eyes, saw Vaughn on the other side of the plane, and everything came rushing back to her. Vaughn married, Missing two years, the fight, being sedated. She groaned, and he looked over.
"Hey," he said, gingerly, as if he were talking to a wild animal, which could attack at any moment. If Sydney hadn't seriously still felt like shooting him in the head, she would have found it entertaining.
"Hi," she croaked back.
He hesitated before saying, "It is me, you know."
She yawned. "Yeah," she said sleepily, the tranquilizer drugs not quite having worn off yet. "I figured that by now."
She paused, and then said under her breath. "Who else but Michael Vaughn can't ever be without a woman? It was simply a matter of time..."
He was grinning with a look of mild shock in his eyes when he said to her, "I heard that, you know."
She just smiled. "That's nice for you," she retorted, turned over and went back to sleep.
Vaughn was hopeful as he watched Sydney sleep. Sad, but hopeful. He had recently rejoined the CIA. And knowing Sydney, she would jump right back into it as soon as anyone would let her. He had to wonder whether she would have stayed if she hadn't gone missing. But he knew her too well, and now that her life had changed so drastically, she would want to find the most familiar things to find comfort in.
And he hoped they could still find comfort in each other.