Too Much To Remember

Chapter 1: The Box

Vaughn sat staring at the brown cardboard box, his hands trembling slightly as the object seemed to be watching him as it sat on the table. His trusted bottle of scotch was sitting next to the offending entity, and he lifted his glass quickly feeling the familiar burn of the alcohol traveling down his throat.

He'd packed everything. Every photo; every hair tie; favorite mug, favorite book; every memory. The box sat full, the open leaves sealed with clear packing tape until the roll had been exhausted. It was as if Sydney herself was sealed away where he could no longer reach. A year later, while packing into a new house with a new life, more importantly a new wife, the box had appeared. When questioned over it, he lied. Merely referring to it as his 'old life stuff', but since its arrival it had been a constant in his mind. Late into the night, he climbed gently out of bed and silently crept into the living room. He found it easily because of the over-done taping job along the creases of the top, bottom, and sides.

Running a hand through his tousled hair he stood and made his way into the messy kitchen. Leaning against the counter with a sigh, he tilted his head to the side once more as his eyes landed on the box. Yanking open a drawer, he grabbed a small paring knife and timidly made his way back into the living room, checking the hallway to make sure Lauren was still sleeping.

Ripping through the tape easily, he set the knife down and peeled away the sections one by one until several rolled and folded items wrapped in newspaper from that morning, the day she'd disappeared, became visible in the faded light of the kitchen. Flicking on the lamp atop the coffee table he lifted the first item from the top and gingerly unwrapped it. A faded frame of scuffed and dingy silver was offset by the picture sporting the brilliant sunset and churning waters washing about the feet of the couple standing in the surf; centered on the black velvet backing tears welled at the corners of his eyes, going unheeded.

"Eric's birthday…" Vaughn whispered with a hoarse voice as he settled back against the couch, his mind lost in the memory of that day…

"Syd, you're the best! Thank you…" Weiss laughed lightly, pulling the smiling brunette into a warm embrace as he held the brand new hockey shirt against his chest to see how it fit.

"You're welcome. I mean…it isn't much but I couldn't really think of anything else. And under the circumstances of the incredible 7 to 2 loss your team underwent this afternoon, I'd say it's the perfect gift." She laughed and caught Weiss' grunt of approval as he took a quick drink of his beer.

The waves crashed in the background as the sun set lower in the sky. The raging party of perhaps ten people was beginning to subside, leaving Eric, Vaughn, and Sydney alone on the beach. Weiss' birthday party had gone off without a hitch or a single phone call from Kendall, something of a rare occurrence.

"Syd, let's take a walk." Vaughn suggested as he stood and pulled her with him hearing Eric's voice in the background.

"Oh…now that it's time to pack everything up you've become romantic." He growled and lifted the large cooler prior to turning and making his way along the sandy beach to the parking lot.

Grains of sand stuck to the back of her faded denim shorts as she linked her fingers with his, the two walking in silence with the surf lapping at their ankles.

"Oh…I almost forgot." She jumped, reaching into the small pocket and pulling out a gold key. "To my apartment. I had it made today when I picked up Eric's shirt."

Vaughn stopped and gave her a confused look. "I thought we weren't moving ahead too quickly; we were going to take our time."

She could hear the laugh in his voice as he echoed her words of the previous day.

"Well…the longer I thought about it, the more I realized that we've waited nearly two years as it is. But…if that isn't long enough, Agent Vaughn, I could always take the key back and use it for a spare…" she continued walked, though her eyes didn't miss him pocketing the item of their conversation.

"The spot under the third potted geranium from the left has already been claimed."

"True…then you'd better keep it. Just in case." She countered and felt a pull against her arm.

More than willingly, she moved into his embrace as her head found his shoulder, his chin resting against the crown of her head. Sydney's fingers drew abstract designs along the skin of his back, feeling the tied knot of the t-shirt around his waist pushing into her stomach.

"Well…I suppose we should help Eric pack up." Vaughn pulled away reluctantly as he reached out and cupped her cheek with the palm of his hand. "You are so beautiful…" he sighed, pressing a light yet intimate kiss to her lips before retracting slowly and taking her hand once more.

Two weeks later Eric surprised them both with the picture he'd taken, the setting was beautiful as the sun sunk in the horizon, the ocean waves lapping lightly about their feet as Vaughn held her against him while setting a gentle hand to her face.

"Well…it would be strange if I kept it." Was Weiss' only explanation as he presented the framed photo to the pair during dinner one night.

Vaughn sniffed and wiped at his tears angrily, but the images that assailed his mind wouldn't leave. Automatically, his hands reached back into the box and produced an envelope. Tucked not sealed, the contents spilled out easily onto his palm as he stared openly at the two ticket stubs. KINGS printed neatly on the side, Vaughn swears that he can hear her laughter despite the nearly two year absence of Sydney Bristow from his life.

"Come on! Cross-checking, ref! What are you blind?!" Vaughn jumped up and screamed with the crowd about them then sat back down with a huff as the Kings fell behind, 3-2.

"Michael…it's just a game. Tone it down." He whipped his head to stare at her laughing mocha eyes as she sat reclined with her feet donning comfortable tennis shoes and propped up on the back of the empty seat in front of her. Her freckles stood out against her pale cheeks and strands of her straight brown hair hung in her eyes. She had long since given up on keeping the flyaway ends from tickling her chin and nose.

"What did you say?" He asked quietly, the last breath of his question lost in the din of yet another outrageous play.

"Tone it down?" She questioned with an upturned eyebrow, tearing off a small piece of cotton candy and placing it into her mouth.

"No before that."

"It's just a game?"

"Before… you…you called me Michael."

He caught the slight blush on her cheeks as she looked down at her lap and folded her fingers together.

"You never call me Michael." His smile was light, though it seemed to touch his eyes as leaned back to get a better look at the woman sitting next to.

"I do sometimes…" her dimple grew on her right cheek as she finally reverted her gaze to Vaughn, remembering all of the times they met in secret, back to back, knowing that one glance could end their lives.

"I like it." He leaned forward and set a kiss to her lips. Hot, but not born of passion, his lips were commandeering, yet gentle and he pulled back quietly to observe her sitting with eyes closed and mouth slightly parted. A small patch of red scratches stood out against her chin and he scolded himself for not shaving before taking her out.

"The Kings just scored." Her voice was lower than usual, but full of laughter as his green eyes sparkled before he shook his head, leaning forward once more with a whisper before his lips met hers once again.

"It's just a game."

Letting the tickets fall to the table he heard soft padding footfall in the hallway. Jumping up from his position on the floor he looked into the eyes of his sleepy wife Lauren as she cocked an eyebrow in his direction, an amused yet confused and curious gaze creasing the corners of her eyes.

"Michael…it's three in the morning, love. What on earth prompted you to unpack at this ungodly hour?" She asked quietly, her British accent sounding so foreign in his ears after remembering the clear bright voice of Sydney's. She leaned down and lifting the antique picture frame into her hands. The smile left her face quickly as she looked up at him with something akin to compassion and jealousy in her blue eyes.

"Was this Sydney?" She asked lightly and diverted her gaze back to the intimate picture, though she caught the slight nod of his head. "You kept a box of her things?"

"No…well…yes, but I forgot about it completely." He defended lightly, the hitch in his voice not going unnoticed by his wife.

"What were you going to do with these Michael? Hope that I wouldn't notice?" She asked as tears filled her eyes as she set a pale hand to her hip. "You told me you'd gotten over it…that you had put her behind you. Judging by the heartache written on your face it doesn't seem like you were telling the truth." She sobbed and her fingers curled around the picture frame. "Do you still love her?"

"Yes. And I won't lie to you by saying that it…it hurt when I found these things…but Lauren, it…it doesn't mean anything. You're my wife." Though his words were justified in his head, his heart was another matter.

"I want you to get rid of it, Michael. It's just going to be a link to a past you promised you'd forget." She almost ordered and she swiped at a tear on her cheek.

"Lauren…" he sighed as he began to pace, one hand over his face as he squeezed his eyes so tight that colors danced behind the lids.

"Michael…please. Just do it for us."

"Us? What did Sydney ever have to do with you?" His voice was angry now as he turned to fix dim, green-grey eyes on the woman standing before him.

"Don't you think that it was a sign? Michael…you and I were supposed to be together. Think of how many things had to happen for us to meet and marry. Sydney's death, the Covenant playing a role in everything, my investigation…"

"Three things…Lauren, do you have any idea how many wheels were set in motion for me to meet Sydney? Even before the CIA, before SD-6. Her mother killed my father when I was eight and abandoned Syd at six. Then SD-6 recruits her and kills her fiancé, she came to the CIA and they gave the case to me…Lauren, I don't say this to dispel my love for you, you know that I care for you more than anything, but…Sydney, for a brief eight months, was mine." His eyes glazed over as he kept his gaze trained on his wife.

"You're right…I have moved on. But that doesn't mean that I can't remember what it was like to be with her. Though it doesn't compare to now, nothing could, I have to commit to memory the way she was. Regardless of whether or not I keep an old picture, she'll always live with me and I'm going to cherish the memories that I have." He made his way to Lauren's side, taking the picture from her shaking hands as he cupped her cheek.

"I'm sorry; I had no right to ask you to forget her completely." Lauren smiled lightly as the pad of his thumb wiped away a silent tear as she struggled to calm herself.

"Besides, I never said I couldn't make new memories…" he smiled, pressing a light kiss to her mouth as she wrapped her arms about his neck.

"What was she like? I know I promised I'd never ask you about your relationship…but I don't know. I want to know about you Michael, and she was a big part of you."

Hesitant at first, he finally nodded as she sat beside him on their new couch. Reaching in with trembling fingers, he found yet another photograph. Ironically, taken by Amy Tippin as she, Will, and Francie, or who they thought was Francie, invited them to dinner at the restaurant she owned. The picture was of the four of them.

The picture showed them all relatively dressed down, though Vaughn and Syd had come from a meeting with Kendall that evening so his dress pants, jacket and white shirt were a bit out of place with Francie and Will's jeans and casual dining clothes. Sydney had taken off her business coat, revealing a black tank-top underneath. He chuckled a bit at the awkwardness of the picture at the time, though hilarious when thinking back on it.

"What's so funny?" Lauren questioned as she studied the picture, seeing Michael, Sydney and two others she'd never seen before soaking wet and covered with bubbles in a heap on a wide wooden floor. Buckets, sponges and mops forgotten as they lay in a tangled group of arms and legs while wrestling over a single torn sponge.

"That's Will, and….well…that was Francie's double, though at the time we had no clue about Alison Doren." His smile had faded completely as he remembered the laughing face of the young woman as she jumped up to join the fun.

"She was remarkably good at her job." He ground out as he looked over to see Lauren smiling gently, her hand on his arm to let him know she was ready to listen if he was willing to talk.

"We had been in a meeting for what seemed like hours until we were finally set free. We met at Francie's restaurant for a party for Will's birthday, and when it was over we started to clean up and… it was just the five of us…"

"You're beautiful." Vaughn's words tickled her ear as she placed another empty bottle into the large black trash bag she was carrying.

"Vaughn…clean." She pushed him away with a giggle and the five of them finished in a relatively short amount of time. Will and Francie were talking with Amy at the bar as Vaughn flopped down in a chair on the opposite side of the room. Sydney smiled at him as she proceeded to wipe the table down with a wet washcloth.

"No rest for the weary, come on. Grab a mop; you boys can do the hard work." Amy ordered as she rolled out two large wheeled buckets filled with soapy water and a mop resting handle out from the recesses of the containers. Pushing one over to Will and another to Vaughn, they sighed and stood up. Vaughn took off his jacket and rolled his sleeves up to the elbow as he went to work on his side of the floor.

The three girls dunked sponges into the warm water and began washing the windows and the rest of the tables. Sydney's eyes wandered a few tables away to where Vaughn's muscles stretched and pulled with the side to side motion of running the long mop back and forth. He looked up as he splashed the end back into the oversized pail and met her eyes.

"See something you like Ms. Bristow?" he questioned and made his way over to her, his hands lightly gripping both sides of her ribcage and pulling her against his chest. She dropped the sponge, forgetting their audience for the moment as her wet hands came into contact with the back of his neck. Pulling his head down, she covered his lips with hers as her fingers ran through his messy, yet styled, hair. His hands slid down her sides and moved around to her back as she pressed herself fully against him, her arms running over his shoulders as his tongue teased her own.

A splash of cold water startled the pair apart as they heard laughter through the roar of blood in their ears. Turning with a grin, Amy held a large, now empty, bowl dripping in her hands as Will and Francie nearly doubled over with laughter. One sponge flew, and that was the end of it. When the washcloths, sponges and other safe-to-throw items had scuttled underneath the bar or a table out of reach, cupped hands and bowls were used to transport the liquid through the air. An all-out wrestling match was the end result of a single tattered sponge and Will, Francie, Sydney and Vaughn all slipped and toppled to the wet hardwood floor with a series of grunts and groans mingling with laughter.

The sudden flash of a camera made them all grumble as they spotted Amy from her spot at the bar, a drink in her hand and water dripping from her orange hair as she waved the camera in their direction.

"I think Amy made fifty copies, and needless to say, all who were involved got one." Michael finished as he smiled fondly at the picture before setting it down and looking over at a chuckling Lauren.

"Sounds like a night of fun." She grinned, though it pained her to hear him talk of his intimate relationship with Sydney, it was all a part of healing.

"Look…it's late, but I'll understand if you want to look at more of this. I'm going back to bed." She leaned over, offering him a small kiss before she stood and made her way back to the bedroom.

His eyes scanned the few objects he'd pulled from the box of memories as he thought back to what Lauren had said about the items being something to connect him with the past. He had his memories, and while those were painful to think of at first, he welcomed them now. His love for Sydney hadn't been trivial, he knew. Digging carefully through the box, his fingers brushed over a small velvet box. Finding what he was searching for, he closed his fist around it and pulled it up from the bottom.

He sat, just staring at the black velvet covered tribute to his love for a woman that no longer existed, and despite the ongoing war with his mind to keep it closed and not release the emotions tied to the object, he opened it anyway.

"I'm going to do it." Vaughn's voice startled the man across from him as Weiss sent him a glare.

"Do what?" He grumbled, getting back to his paperwork. Though his voice sounded grumpy, his eyes held a certain measure of curiosity to what his friend was talking about. Hearing the roll of a chair across the three feet to his desk, he saw Vaughn search the room with his eyes before coming to a stop in front of his confidant.

"You can't tell anyone."

"Even Syd?"

"Especially Syd. Understand? Eric, promise me…"

"All right, okay, geeze. I promise." He groused as he clicked his pen closed and turned to watch Michael with little to no patience. "Tell me already. What's the big secret? You've been acting weird all week."

Reaching a hand into his coat pocket, he pulled out the single item he had been terrified of since the moment he had bought it.

"That isn't what I think it is, is it?"

"Shut up." Vaughn growled with a smile as he opened the lid, the platinum band with a single small diamond perched in the center of the black silk.

"That's it? Come on…you're going to propose with that little thing?"

"Eric, as I'm sure you're painfully aware of, size isn't everything. It's not like it was the first ring I looked at. Of course I'd love to give her a million carat diamond ring with her name engraved into the band, but…but that's not Sydney. This was perfect."

"How long have you had it?" Eric questioned with a grin as he propped his head up on his hand like a teenage girl asking about a boy in class. Vaughn laughed as he snapped the case closed, placing it back into its safe place inside his coat as he rolled away from Weiss to his own desk.

"I shouldn't have said anything to you." He growled with a smirk as he clicked the mouse of his computer and the black screen faded back to the report he'd been too distracted to work on.

"Come on, you know I live vicariously through you. You've got Sydney, I've got Alan." Weiss nearly yelled, seeing a few eyebrows raise in laughter from the officers around them. "He's my dog!" He added quickly as Vaughn laughed as he typed at the report once more.

Two weeks had passed until Weiss caught back up with him at the firing range hidden in the basement of the JTF building.

"I can't believe they got away. Again. How many times has that slippery little bastard gotten away from us? Are we seriously ever going to catch them?" Weiss asked as Vaughn reloaded his pistol, taking the earphones off and letting them rest about his neck.

"Personally, I don't think we ever will." He answered simply as Weiss leaned against the wall beside him, a small smirk on his face. "What?"

"You still haven't asked her, have you?" Eric questioned as he reached out and poked at the lump hidden in the cloth of Vaughn's overcoat.

"I…I just haven't found the right moment. That's all." Vaughn lied as he turned and fired a few shots, catching the shaking of Weiss' shoulders as he laughed, though he was thankful that he couldn't hear the mocking giggles of the agent.

"You never will, you just have to do it."

"Well…Syd and I happen to be going away for the weekend. I cleared it with Kendall. I'm planning on asking her at the beach in Santa Barbara."

"Oooh, Mike, you're growing them back!"

"Growing what back?"

"Those balls of steel. Haven't seen them for a while, I'm glad they're still around. Well, congrats and have a good vacation. I think Syd's briefing is over, though Kendall did say he wanted to talk with you in an hour."

It was Eric that called his cell phone an hour and a half later, prompting Vaughn to apologize to Kendall and Jack Bristow as he received glares from both senior officers. It was Eric that told him that something had happened. No details were given as he said, "Get to Syd's, now…" and hung up the phone.

The smoke was visible as he turned into her neighborhood, his foot slammed on the accelerator the entire drive from the JTF to her apartment. The complex was engulfed in flames as Vaughn recognized the family that lived on the opposite side of Syd and Francie's standing out on the lawn as they watched both homes burn. He couldn't move from his car as he watched helplessly as the fire department put out the inferno, and only until they deemed it safe to enter the premises did he jump from his car to be stopped by Weiss and a police officer he didn't know.

"Stop man, there's nothing you can do." He tried, though they were both distracted as an ambulance drove up and stopped quickly.

"We've got a man in his early thirties, stab wound to the chest. He's lost blood, we need a transfusion stat." A medic beside him ordered as they rolled Will Tippin out on a stretcher. Though his eyes were open, he was speaking incoherently.

"Will…what happened. Where is Sydney?" Vaughn asked as desperation filled his voice.

"Francie…Alison..." he wheezed as he struggled to speak so Vaughn could understand him.

"Sir, please. This is no time for an interrogation." The paramedic growled as she and two others loaded Will onto the ambulance and sped off down the road, sirens and lights blazing.

"We've got two bodies inside, burned too badly to be immediately identified. Bring in a team, we'll take dental samples."

"Sir…I'm Michael Vaughn, CIA. The woman that lives here, Sydney Bristow, I need to know where she is."

"Other than the man that was just taken away, there were no other survivors." His eyes were kind as he dealt the news to the stricken young man before turning and dealing with the crime scene.

Everything after that once sentence was a blur. He vaguely remembered Weiss trying to get him to leave; something about walking through the gutted insides of the home that used to belong to his Sydney. Finally making his way to the charred bedroom, he saw two body bags laying on opposite sides of the room, shards of melted glass scattered about one, and he remembered Sydney's stand up mirror that used to be in that corner. Slouching down against the badly damaged wall, he watched with tear filled eyes as the team entered the remains of the apartment and identified one body as Francine Calfo and the other as Sydney Bristow.

Tears spilled down his cheeks as he closed the case and tossed it back into the box. Standing and taking determined strides into the kitchen, he emerged moments later with a large roll of packing tape. Setting everything back where he'd pulled it out from, save the picture of he and Syd on the beach. Removing the picture from the frame, he walked to the coat rack and tucked the image behind his CIA issue ID.

Sealing the box back up, he walked back into the bedroom to see Lauren sound asleep in a tangle of pillows and blankets. Setting a kiss to her forehead, he found a t-shirt and yanked it over his head before sliding his feet into a pair of flip flops. Hefting the box into his arms and grabbing his car keys, he set it in the passenger side seat before jumping in and driving to Eric's.

The lights in the living room were on, and Vaughn double checked his watch to make sure he knew what time it was. 4:47 am. With a frown, he made his way up to the front door with the heavy item in his hands. Setting it down at his feet, he knocked, half expecting to hear Eric stumble to the door with a growl and give him the 'early morning eyes of doom', as he so happily put it one morning.

Eric opened the door with concerned eyes, though he was wide awake.

"Hey, I'm sorry for waking you up so early, but…but I need you to take this box. Do whatever you want with it; I just can't have it any longer. Too many memories of someone I'll never see again. I've moved on…but in order to complete it I need to get rid of these." He spilled, though seeing the cell phone to Weiss' ear.

"How the hell did you get here so fast?"

"What?"

"I just left you a message on your cell phone, I didn't think you'd be able to get here this fast. Wait…is this the Sydney Box?"

"I didn't know you called." Instinctively, he reached down to his pants to find his cell phone, but remembering that he left it laying on the nightstand beside his wallet. "Left the cell phone at home. What are you doing up this early?"

"Mike….ummm…I just got a call ten minutes ago from Kendall."

"No. Eric, I told you last year that I'm out, I don't want to hear about anything regarding the CIA."

"No…you need to listen to this Mike, please. Just hear me out." Eric ordered, lifting the box into his arms as he tossed his cell phone across the room and onto the couch. "Sit." He spoke as he sat Vaughn down at the table.

"Kendall got a call a few minutes ago from an agent in Hong Kong. An agent….missing for almost two years. She identified herself as Sydney Bristow. They ran voice print analysis on the call and it's been confirmed. Sydney's in Hong Kong, and from what we know, she has absolutely no recollection of what's happened in the last two years." Eric's words came out slow and deliberate as he watched the myriad of emotions swim through his friend's eyes.

Vaughn's head was swimming as he tried desperately to decipher what Eric was telling him. "She's alive?" His voice was merely a squeak as Weiss handed him a glass of water.

"Kendall asked me to go to Hong Kong and bring her home. Explain that it's been two years and set things straight. Mike…I called you because…because I think you should go."