The drug in the dart had been a painful, fast acting toxin, similar in many
ways to snake venom, except for the fact that it was manufactured in a
laboratory. The doctors, in desperation, had given her both snake and
spider anti-toxin, and luckily, they had worked. Vaughn had been called
into a meeting to discuss how someone had managed to enter a CIA-run
hospital and dart her with a toxin-laden dart.
Another, strange effect of the drug was to make her incredibly thirsty. She'd drank eight glasses of water in just over two hours. She sat up slowly in bed and poured herself another glass of water from the jug on the table next to her bed. The giraffe that Vaughn had bought her was there, along with the pile of magazines he'd brought her. Most of them where unread. Her white paper hospital bracelet slipped down as she picked the glass up. She pushed it back up with her other hand. Her wrist was still in a cast, but she could use her hand well enough. After all, it wasn't the first time she'd had a broken wrist. She put the glass back onto the table and switched off the light.
Endless questions swirled round her mind. Who was the man who'd darted her? Why had he done it? Who was he working for? And why did they want her dead? Nobody could answer the questions for her, but they where looking for the answers. That was all she wanted from anyone.
She laid in the dark, on the hard hospital bed, sobbing quietly to herself. The tears had come suddenly, shocking her with their intensity. The sobs wracked her body. She didn't know how much more she could cry. The hot salty tears stung her eyes, but she had no control over them. Despite the warmth in the room, she shivered violently as she thought over what had happened. She'd been. hurt before, but this time was much worse. Not the physical hurt- that would heal soon enough, leaving only scars to remind her. It was the mental scars that she'd had problems with. She could deal with the physical ones.
Before, when she'd been tortured, there had always been a clear reason for it. She'd known why it was happening. But this time, she hadn't had any information to give her captors. There was nothing she could tell Artis, except the truth, which he'd so blatantly ignored. She'd been helpless and he had taken advantage of that.
She clamped her eyes shut and breathed deeply for a few minutes, getting her feelings back under control. She'd been trained to keep her feelings under complete control at all times, but that training wasn't helping her now. She felt so different from the tough young woman who'd entered that warehouse. She'd left it as a shadow of herself. She didn't know how to go back to her old self.
There were only two people in the world that could make her feel safe again. Her father and Vaughn, people she trusted implicitly. People that had shown her, time and time again that they would risk their lives for her. Her father, on occasion, had let her down before, but she still loved him like she had when she was a child. She didn't know where her father was, so Vaughn was her only choice. She picked up the buzzer and rang for a nurse.
Knowing that confronting her feelings was the best was to deal with them, she'd come to an unconscious decision to talk to Vaughn. Originally, she'd just wanted to see him, as a sort of security blanket. He understood her, in a way most other people didn't.
Within twenty minutes of the nurse phoning him, Vaughn was in her hospital room. He took her hands as he knelt down in front of her, careful to avoid touching her injured fingers. She couldn't help flinching slightly as his skin made contact with hers and knew that it hurt Vaughn. She'd moved to sit in the only chair in the room, where she could look out over the Moscow skyline. Her feet where tucked under her because of the chill in the air. It was breath taking in the dark, but they weren't interested in the view.
"You said you wanted to talk to me?" he asked gently, trying to make eye contact with her. For some reason, she was avoiding his eyes. She looked at her hands as if she'd never seen them before. He looked at her carefully. Her eyes where red and bloodshot. She must have been crying, but she didn't look upset, just tired. No, he thought that's not tiredness, it's what? Regret? Sorrow? Grief? He didn't know what she was feeling.
She bit her lip, almost drawing blood. As soon as she started talking about the kidnapping, she was back in that damp, cold room. Her mind recalled every detail with amazing clarity, from the cracks in the walls to the placement to the windows. She started coughing and he passed her a bottle of water from the tiny refrigerator behind him, which she drank quickly.
He watched as she shredded the label on her bottle, then took the plastic bottle from her to stop her demolishing that. She looked pensive, and when she started talking, he couldn't stop himself feeling sorry for her. Her face was set and blank, as if she wasn't really there.
"You'd think that a person would be able to get used to pain. To block it out. Well, you don't. It builds, gradually building to the point where you can't take it anymore." She said in a monotone, then paused and rubbed her hand over her face. "Then you pass out. When you come round, you know that it's all gonna happen again. It makes you wish for death. I know I did."
"Oh, honey. I'm so, so sorry." He said. His words sounded inadequate, even to himself, but he was at a loss for what to say.
"He hurt me, you know. He had a knife that he cut me with." She said almost dreamily. "Fenwick was there. He was working with them."
"He.he's dead now, Syd. He killed himself."
"I don't blame him. I don't blame you, either. It's not your fault."
She stopped for a moment, and he thought that she wasn't going to continue, but then she described the fight between her and Artis. By the time she'd finished talking, there where little bleeding wounds on her palms from her nails.
"Vaughn?" she asked, suddenly focused.
"Yes?" he answered
"Do you trust me?" she asked
"With my life." He replied instantly.
"Then trust me when I say that we have to take SD-6 down now. Yes, I'm off their radar for now, but as soon as I get back to the states, they're gonna know that I'm alive."
"They think that you're dead, Syd. We have an alias set up for you."
"Yes, I know, but how long will that last once I'm home? Not very long. Someone will see me, and it'll get back to them." She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. "Vaughn, we have to do this, and we have to do it now. It's our best shot at destroying them for ever!"
"I know honey, but it's not that easy."
"I could be." She said simply.
When Vaughn came out of the room, there where tears in his eyes for her. He'd only left Syd once she had fallen into a deep sleep, aided by a strong sedative her doctor had given her. He'd finally heard the full story of her kidnapping, and what he'd heard had sickened him.
The feeling had nothing to do with Syd- she could never sicken him. She had his full support, if she would take it. Artis was the one who had sickened him. He was furious at Artis for hurting Syd. Vaughn was also damn sure that he was going to pay for what he'd done.
Once he reached his rental car, he drove aimlessly around the city. It was beautiful at three in the morning, but he barely noticed. He'd been awake for 36 hours straight, but he couldn't sleep knowing that Syd was in such pain. He drove back to his hotel, parked the car and walked slowly up to his room. He was going to spend anther long night pacing his room. There wasn't a damn thing he could do until morning.
Another, strange effect of the drug was to make her incredibly thirsty. She'd drank eight glasses of water in just over two hours. She sat up slowly in bed and poured herself another glass of water from the jug on the table next to her bed. The giraffe that Vaughn had bought her was there, along with the pile of magazines he'd brought her. Most of them where unread. Her white paper hospital bracelet slipped down as she picked the glass up. She pushed it back up with her other hand. Her wrist was still in a cast, but she could use her hand well enough. After all, it wasn't the first time she'd had a broken wrist. She put the glass back onto the table and switched off the light.
Endless questions swirled round her mind. Who was the man who'd darted her? Why had he done it? Who was he working for? And why did they want her dead? Nobody could answer the questions for her, but they where looking for the answers. That was all she wanted from anyone.
She laid in the dark, on the hard hospital bed, sobbing quietly to herself. The tears had come suddenly, shocking her with their intensity. The sobs wracked her body. She didn't know how much more she could cry. The hot salty tears stung her eyes, but she had no control over them. Despite the warmth in the room, she shivered violently as she thought over what had happened. She'd been. hurt before, but this time was much worse. Not the physical hurt- that would heal soon enough, leaving only scars to remind her. It was the mental scars that she'd had problems with. She could deal with the physical ones.
Before, when she'd been tortured, there had always been a clear reason for it. She'd known why it was happening. But this time, she hadn't had any information to give her captors. There was nothing she could tell Artis, except the truth, which he'd so blatantly ignored. She'd been helpless and he had taken advantage of that.
She clamped her eyes shut and breathed deeply for a few minutes, getting her feelings back under control. She'd been trained to keep her feelings under complete control at all times, but that training wasn't helping her now. She felt so different from the tough young woman who'd entered that warehouse. She'd left it as a shadow of herself. She didn't know how to go back to her old self.
There were only two people in the world that could make her feel safe again. Her father and Vaughn, people she trusted implicitly. People that had shown her, time and time again that they would risk their lives for her. Her father, on occasion, had let her down before, but she still loved him like she had when she was a child. She didn't know where her father was, so Vaughn was her only choice. She picked up the buzzer and rang for a nurse.
Knowing that confronting her feelings was the best was to deal with them, she'd come to an unconscious decision to talk to Vaughn. Originally, she'd just wanted to see him, as a sort of security blanket. He understood her, in a way most other people didn't.
Within twenty minutes of the nurse phoning him, Vaughn was in her hospital room. He took her hands as he knelt down in front of her, careful to avoid touching her injured fingers. She couldn't help flinching slightly as his skin made contact with hers and knew that it hurt Vaughn. She'd moved to sit in the only chair in the room, where she could look out over the Moscow skyline. Her feet where tucked under her because of the chill in the air. It was breath taking in the dark, but they weren't interested in the view.
"You said you wanted to talk to me?" he asked gently, trying to make eye contact with her. For some reason, she was avoiding his eyes. She looked at her hands as if she'd never seen them before. He looked at her carefully. Her eyes where red and bloodshot. She must have been crying, but she didn't look upset, just tired. No, he thought that's not tiredness, it's what? Regret? Sorrow? Grief? He didn't know what she was feeling.
She bit her lip, almost drawing blood. As soon as she started talking about the kidnapping, she was back in that damp, cold room. Her mind recalled every detail with amazing clarity, from the cracks in the walls to the placement to the windows. She started coughing and he passed her a bottle of water from the tiny refrigerator behind him, which she drank quickly.
He watched as she shredded the label on her bottle, then took the plastic bottle from her to stop her demolishing that. She looked pensive, and when she started talking, he couldn't stop himself feeling sorry for her. Her face was set and blank, as if she wasn't really there.
"You'd think that a person would be able to get used to pain. To block it out. Well, you don't. It builds, gradually building to the point where you can't take it anymore." She said in a monotone, then paused and rubbed her hand over her face. "Then you pass out. When you come round, you know that it's all gonna happen again. It makes you wish for death. I know I did."
"Oh, honey. I'm so, so sorry." He said. His words sounded inadequate, even to himself, but he was at a loss for what to say.
"He hurt me, you know. He had a knife that he cut me with." She said almost dreamily. "Fenwick was there. He was working with them."
"He.he's dead now, Syd. He killed himself."
"I don't blame him. I don't blame you, either. It's not your fault."
She stopped for a moment, and he thought that she wasn't going to continue, but then she described the fight between her and Artis. By the time she'd finished talking, there where little bleeding wounds on her palms from her nails.
"Vaughn?" she asked, suddenly focused.
"Yes?" he answered
"Do you trust me?" she asked
"With my life." He replied instantly.
"Then trust me when I say that we have to take SD-6 down now. Yes, I'm off their radar for now, but as soon as I get back to the states, they're gonna know that I'm alive."
"They think that you're dead, Syd. We have an alias set up for you."
"Yes, I know, but how long will that last once I'm home? Not very long. Someone will see me, and it'll get back to them." She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. "Vaughn, we have to do this, and we have to do it now. It's our best shot at destroying them for ever!"
"I know honey, but it's not that easy."
"I could be." She said simply.
When Vaughn came out of the room, there where tears in his eyes for her. He'd only left Syd once she had fallen into a deep sleep, aided by a strong sedative her doctor had given her. He'd finally heard the full story of her kidnapping, and what he'd heard had sickened him.
The feeling had nothing to do with Syd- she could never sicken him. She had his full support, if she would take it. Artis was the one who had sickened him. He was furious at Artis for hurting Syd. Vaughn was also damn sure that he was going to pay for what he'd done.
Once he reached his rental car, he drove aimlessly around the city. It was beautiful at three in the morning, but he barely noticed. He'd been awake for 36 hours straight, but he couldn't sleep knowing that Syd was in such pain. He drove back to his hotel, parked the car and walked slowly up to his room. He was going to spend anther long night pacing his room. There wasn't a damn thing he could do until morning.