Chapter Five
One Week Later
Sark sat by Sydney's side staring at the pale and fragile form lying on the bed in front of him. He kept thinking about how strong she used to look, and now he felt that if he even breathed on her, she would break into a million pieces.
His mind kept flashing back to the talk he had with the doctor when he had gotten her to the hospital…
One Week Earlier
He had been pacing in the waiting room for over four hours. What could be taking so long in there? He wondered. He couldn't think of anything other than the blood he saw pouring from her back. His mind instantly thought the worst. Her heart had been hit. It had to be that. She was going to… his thought drifted off when the doctor walked towards him, a grim look across his face. He prepared himself for the worst.
"Mr Warren, your friend Sydney Bristow is out of surgery."
He looked at the doctor hopefully, and frowned when he saw the look in his eyes. "What happened? Is she going to be alright?"
"The bullet entered her back, shattering her left scapula and clavicle. We're going to need to do some reconstructive surgery to repair the damage. As for internal damage… she was bleeding internally, thankfully the bullet did not hit her vertebrae and it missed her heart. It scraped her left lung, but we were able to repair that damage as well." Sark let a breath out that he did not know he was holding in.
The doctor looked down at a chart and sighed. "There's more Mr Warren. The trauma on her body was quite extensive, and in order to protect her from more damage, she has been put into a temporary coma. There is a very good chance that she will pull through within the next few days, but there is a slight chance that she won't wake up."
"What? She might not wake up?" he said softly, moving to a chair and sitting down. He ran his hands through his hair and over his face, trying to take in what he had just learned.
"I'll leave you to think things over." And with that, the doctor left Sark alone with his thoughts.
Present time
He sat silently, continuing to look at her. What he wouldn't give to get her to wake. Over the past week, he had not left the hospital, in fear that she would wake up alone. He had tried to reach Jack Bristow earlier in the week, but found that he was out of town "selling airplane parts" according to the operator. Of course they wouldn't give him any information as to his whereabouts because he called using a civilian line.
"Sydney, please wake up" he pleaded. He knew it was no use though. She wouldn't wake up until she was ready, which could be a while.
Earlier in the day the doctor had come in telling him that there had not been a great change in her, to show a greater possibility of her waking up. He told him not to get his hopes up, but it wasn't worth it. His hopes were already high.
Over the past week, he had much time to think about everything in his life. He decided that once he got her out of the hospital, he would figure out who was after him, or her, or them.
He had come to realize how much he cared for Sydney. He couldn't say if it was love, but he knew that he didn't want to lose her. He needed for her to be ok, and he needed to see that for himself. Not just to hear her say that she was ok, because he knew not to believe her. She wasn't happy with her life right now.
I could try to make her happy, he thought, "I will try to make you happy Sydney, all I want is for you to be happy." He took her hand in his, softly, because he felt it might shatter at his light touch.
Suddenly, the machines around him came back to life, beeping incessantly, causing him to look around frantically. The hand in his began to squeeze his lightly. A nurse hurried into the room, checking her pulse. She smiled and hurried out again, as fast as she had entered, and returned with the doctor. Sydney's hand squeezed his again and he whispered "Sydney?" trying to comprehend what was happening.
The doctor flashed a light into her eyes and smiled. "Her pupils are responding." He sighed. "She's back."
Sark let out a nervous sob when Sydney's eyes fluttered open, trying to take in the light that she hadn't seen in a week. She moved her free hand and wiped her eyes weakly. After a moment, she opened her eyes to see Sark sitting by her side, holding her hand between his. He was looking at her with a look of amazement.
"Welcome to the world of the living Sydney" he said smiling.
"What happened?" she managed to croak out, barely a whisper.
"Well, why don't you start by telling me the last thing you remember."
"We were dancing and then we went back to the table at the restaurant and then there were two men who followed us through the back door."
"Well, those men, they shot you in the back."
"Yeah, I kind of figured that out from the extreme pain in my left shoulder."
"Ah, that's the Sydney Bristow that I know," he said, "so, you were hit in the left shoulder. It didn't hit your heart, but it scraped the side of your left lung and shattered your scapula and clavicle. They had to do some reconstructive surgery when you were out. But you're going to be fine."
She looked ahead of her, thinking about what he had just said. "Does my father know?"
"I've tried to reach him, but haven't been successful. They won't tell me where he is because I don't know how to contact him through the CIA."
"Oh" they were enveloped by silence for a few minutes until Sydney finally spoke. "Sark?"
He raised his head to look at her. "Yes?"
"Why are you here?" he looked at her quizzically, "I mean, I treated you horribly that night. Why are you still here, why did you stay?"
"I'm not sure how I can answer that Sydney" he paused, trying to form the words that he wanted to say. "Well, I'm not sure how you'll take this but, I care about you Sydney. I realized this week that if I could prevent something from happening to you, I would. I don't want you to feel sad anymore. I want to make you happy. I'm here, right now, because I want to be. I didn't want you to wake up alone."
"Ok" she said. It came out of her so softly, that he wasn't sure she had said anything at all.
"Ok" he replied, smiling softly. He looked slowly down at her hand in his.
"If I give you a way of calling my father for me, would you do it for me?"
"Of course."
"Ok. Call him at this number," she wrote out the correct numbers to call on a piece of paper, "and then enter this code once you hear a click. Then you'll be put through to his desk phone. He should be there, if he isn't, then it'll forward you to his cell phone."
"Ok. I think I can manage that" he got up from the chair and let go of her hand. Walking toward the door, he stopped and turned his head to look at her "I'm glad you're awake and alright Sydney."
She smiled at him, and he continued to the phone.