Chapter Three
The next morning, Vaughn wakes up feeling a little better than the morning before. Like he'd maybe only been hit by a minivan rather than a truck.
His head is still pounding, but he is almost certain it's not a result of the accident, but the result of the memories that had bombarded him while he slept.
He lets out a short groan upon remembering and tries to ignore the sudden noise at the door.
"Whoa, buddy, you look terrible."
He's not sure whether to perk up or try even harder to ignore it when he recognizes the voice of his best friend. He decides to try a smile. It almost helps.
"Thanks, Eric."
"How're you feeling?" Weiss asks, coming to sit beside his friend.
Vaughn smirks and gestures to the overworked morphine drip. "I wouldn't really know."
Weiss laughs and nods for a moment before sobering to initiate the inevitable. "So, um… I saw Sydney earlier."
Vaughn tries to keep from visibly squirming, choosing instead to play the mock-defensive card. "You visited her before me? I'm insulted."
"Don't try that with me, you were out cold," Weiss plays along. Briefly. "Mike… I know something happened. Besides the accident, I mean. She wouldn't tell me what, but I'd like to think I'm in tune enough with your twisted relationship by now to know…. Plus, she wasn't wearing her ring."
Ouch.
Vaughn had expected nothing less from Sydney, but hearing the words still feels like another van crushing through him at 75 miles per hour. Surely they'd endured enough to survive this as well, after all, she'd done the same thing to the people she loved, deceived more people than he cared to count. She'd be a hypocrite to turn him away now.
"So," he continues, interrupting Vaughn's train of thought, "what's going on, man?"
"Uh. I need to talk to her first, I think," he stalls, rubbing his chin with his fingers. The IV tube pulls at his hand, and he winces. God he hates hospitals. Aside from the safety factor, the smell is unbearable, and the paper gowns are downright uncomfortable, although he appreciates that no one had worn his gown before. Small favors. Eric is frowning at him. Better say something to shut the man up. "She's overreacting, man. I said something stupid and was about to elaborate when another car did a somersault through my window. Talk about bad timing." He smiles at his friend. "Don't worry about it. We always forgive each other in the end."
Eric just rolls his eyes. "If you say so. I'd hate to be in the room when this conversation takes place though. You've got some serious begging to do, my man."
Vaughn turns his eyes up towards the ceiling and sighs. Good humored as he may be, Weiss is completely right. The question now is, will serious begging be good enough?
"Did they say when I could get out of this bed, Weiss?"
Weiss shrugs. "I'm not sure, man, but I think you've got at least a few more days. You have three broken ribs and a broken leg, among various other injuries. I understand I'm talking to the man I once helped to escape from his hospital with a punctured lung, but I highly recommend you take it easy for a while on this one."
"I have to talk to her, Eric."
"No, you had to save her life in Palmero. This, buddy, is not a life or death situation. So you will be holding no guns to my head this time. Sorry."
"Hey," Eric continues, seeing his friend's distress, "You're probably right. She likes you too much to kill you, buddy."
Vaughn's laugh is only slightly amused. "I don't think she likes me too much right now. But I know she loves me, and that's gotta be enough." His eyelids start drooping of their own volition, and suddenly it's very hard to talk. "I think I'm falling asleep," he murmurs, but he doesn't hear a response. Thank god for medication.