Chapter Two
Jack Bristow stepped quietly into his daughter's room, smiling slightly at the sight greeting him. Vaughn slept awkwardly against a pillow, one arm in a cast and the other tucked around Sydney, and a peaceful expression gracing his features. Sydney wore a similar smile as she lay with her head on Vaughn's chest and the rest of her body curled up in a tight ball, just as she'd done as a child. They were both a sight for sore eyes, but they both looked so happy, despite their surroundings and the events of the day. For a moment, he allowed himself to remember when Irina announced her pregnancy, how happy he'd been, how amazed that he took part in something so miraculous. His daughter and her boyfriend must feel the same way; their bliss over the baby was the only thing that could distract them from the looming threat to their lives. He hated to wake them now, knowing they both needed rest and time to convalesce, and hating even more that he would probably shatter the perfect bubble currently cocooning them against the harsh reality of their world.
Taking a deep breath and reminding himself that this was best for them, Jack stepped to Sydney's side and gently smoothed the hair away from her face, rousing her in the process. She blinked a few times in confusion before rolling over and bringing her father into focus. "Daddy?" she asked sleepily.
Jack smiled at the innocent slip and her drowsy state as he nodded his head. "Yes, Sweetheart. You and Vaughn need to wake up so I can talk to you."
Sydney blinked again, her mind still a little fuzzy from the sedatives she'd been given. "Why?" she questioned, rubbing her tired eyes.
"Sydney, you can't stay here tonight. We have to talk about what we're going to do," he explained gently.
"Okay," she agreed. "Can you give us just a minute?"
He politely left the room, promising to bring them both coffee – decaf for Sydney - when he returned. Sydney sighed aloud and rolled over again to face Vaughn. Though she could tell he was still in pain, he looked so adorably boyish and content that she hated to disturb him. She moved one hand to his face and lovingly stroked his stubbled cheek, but he merely leaned into her touch and continued to sleep. "Vaughn," she said quietly, moving her hand to his chest to shake him gently. "Vaughn, Honey, you need to wake up," she encouraged. "Come on, Michael."
"Syd?" he slurred, not bothering to open his eyes.
"Yeah, it's me. Come on, you need to wake up. My dad will be back in a few minutes and we all need to talk."
Vaughn forced his eyes open, wincing at the bright lights. "Then can we go back to sleep?" he asked hopefully.
Sydney chuckled and kissed his forehead. "I don't know. He said we can't stay here tonight, but I don't think you're going to be ready to leave just yet. You look like you're hurting," she said in concern.
"Just a little," he admitted. He sat up a little straighter and quickly closed his eyes, panting heavily. "Okay, maybe a lot," he amended.
Sydney face furrowed even more in consternation as she watched him struggle with the pain. "You're not going anywhere tonight," she asseverated, shaking her head.
"If we have to leave we have to leave," he sighed. "I'll be fine. We'll probably be a lot better off somewhere else. This is the first place they'll look for us."
Sydney opened her mouth to protest, but her father stepped in before she conjured a response. "I'm afraid he's right, Sydney," Jack agreed solemnly. "Obviously the hit was intended for both of you, and considering Vaughn's injuries, they'll be looking for you in all the nearby hospitals. We need to get you both out of Paris."
"Dad, there's no way Vaughn can travel like this!" she argued.
"That's why I'm going to suggest a safe house just a few hours away," her father answered calmly, trying to soothe his daughter. "We can get you out of here quietly, and then you two can just rest in the safe house until you're ready to fly home. This is really the best solution, Sydney. It's the best way to protect you both from further harm."
Sydney turned dolefully to Vaughn, her eyes begging him to disagree with her father. But he only nodded his head in approval, even as he winced at the movement. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked them both sceptically.
Vaughn jumped in before Jack had a chance to argue logistics with her, choosing instead to appeal to her emotions. "Come on, Syd, don't you want to sleep in a real bed? It'll be like vacation," he grinned. "Just a few days tucked away in France, no uncomfortable hospital sheets or horrible institutional food?"
"I commend your effort, Agent Vaughn," she rolled her eyes. "But I guess I don't really have a choice in the matter."
"Agent Roberts is going to drive you. I have a plane waiting to take me back to Los Angeles, but I'll see you both in a few days. Take care of my daughter, Agent Vaughn."
"I will," he agreed seriously.
"Bye, Sweetheart," Jack said, leaning over to kiss her forehead.
Once he left the room, Sydney took it upon herself to tear out the IV attached to her hand and climb out of bed. "Uh, Syd, I think maybe you should have waited for the doctor to do that," Vaughn frowned.
"It's not a big deal, Vaughn," she said irritably. "And besides, I've done it before. Despite our frequent need for hospital stays, our line of work usually intereferes."
Vaughn could tell she was not happy about this decision, so he wisely opted not to comment. As much as she hated this, it was their only viable solution. His head and arm ached miserably, and his lungs still felt tight, but none of his own ailments worried him as much as the possibility of something happening to Sydney. He would love to go back to sleep with Sydney next to him, but he couldn't put her into danger like that, especially now.
Since he was already dressed and ready to go, he stood up shakily and stood against the door, watching as she quickly changed back into her clothes and pulled her hair into a ponytail. "Ugh, Vaughn," she groaned, "I didn't pack anything. I don't have anything to wear."
"It's just going to be the two of us, so why do you even need clothes?" he joked.
"I don't think I need to remind you that you have a broken arm and a concussion, do I?" she shot back.
"Syd, relax," he urged her. "I was kidding. I have an extra pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt in my suitcase. We'll make do. It's just a few days."
"I know," she sighed. "This is just so messed up. I'm sorry I'm being unpleasant."
Ignoring the pain, he walked over to her side and pulled her into a comforting hug. "Don't be sorry," he whispered. "You have every right to be upset. I'm not thrilled with the situation either, but we just have to go with it."
Sydney nodded reluctantly and pulled away. He attempted to pick up his suitcase, but she quickly stepped in and took it for him. If his arm didn't hurt like hell, he might protest, but the room was already beginning to tilt and he was obviously going to have to focus on just making it to the car. Sydney picked up on his dazed expression and wove her free hand through his fingers for support.
They made it to the car, but Vaughn looked utterly spent from the short trip, and his face seemed a little paler than before. Agent Roberts put his suitcase in the trunk and ushered them both into the backseat. "It will probably take about three hours," he advised them, "so just get comfortable. Don't worry about a thing."
Sydney and Vaughn shared an amused grin at this; obviously her father hadn't really filled poor Agent Roberts in on their background. Not worrying would be equivalent to not breathing right now.
Once they were situated in the car, Vaughn leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. Sydney reached across the gap between them and reclaimed his hand, rubbing small circles with her thumb in an effort to soothe him and lull him back to sleep. She still didn't feel 100, but he looked far worse. The excited energy and sublime happiness quickly faded as the pain returned, and she only wished there was more she could do to comfort him. She'd had more than her share of concussions and broken bones, and he had to be absolutely miserable right now. The fact that he struggled through it to keep her safe just made her love him that much more. "You okay?" she questioned softly.
"I will be," he managed, eyes still clenched shut.
"Do you think you can get some sleep?"
"I don't know," he answered honestly, his voice sounding a little strained.
"Just try to relax," she soothed. "We'll be there before you know it."
He nodded wearily, too tired to say anything else. They rode for a while in silence, Sydney squeezing his hand every few minutes as he shifted uncomfortably, face tortured with each movement. By the time an hour passed, Sydney was ready to tell Agent Roberts to turn around and find another hospital. Even in the dark, she could tell Vaughn's face was ashen, and tiny beads of sweat lined his forehead. His breathing had grown laboured again, agitated by the strain of keeping himself upright and by the raging headache pounding his skull.
Sydney bit her lip, unsure of what to do. She knew they couldn't just turn back, but she couldn't bear to watch him like this for another two hours. She almost wished he would just pass out already so he could have a little relief. "Vaughn," she murmured in agony. "Just try to sit still, Honey."
"It hurts, Syd," he groaned.
"I know. I know, but you're only making it worse. You need to sit still and try to sleep," she instructed.
"I…I don't think I can, Syd," he choked out, struggling through the words with his choppy breath.
"I knew this was a bad idea," Sydney said tearfully. "I'm so sorry, Vaughn."
"Not…your fault," he rasped.
"Here, I've got an idea. Take off your seatbelt and lay down across the seat," she suggested.
"Syd…I'll be ok. Don't…don't worry."
"Can't help it," she said simply. "I learned from the best. Now come on, just lay down."
He still didn't make any efforts to move, so Sydney reached out and gently eased him down until his head rested in her lap. She placed one hand on his back and the other on his head, running her fingers through his hair to help him relax.
"You need…you need to sleep too," he said quietly.
"I will," she lied, knowing full well she wouldn't rest until he was comfortably tucked in a warm bed and free of the torturous pain he must be enduring. She felt a few tears escape from her eyes as she watched him suffer, praying to whoever was listening that he would fall asleep soon.
Her efforts finally paid off, and she listened in relief as his breathing began to steady out and his movements stilled. She felt his breath against her lap and continued to run her fingers through his hair while he slept. After a while her own eyes began to droop, and she leaned her head against the window and began to doze off.
Two hours later, Agent Roberts pulled the car to the front door of a small, run-of-the-mill CIA safe house. Sydney woke immediately and glanced down at Vaughn, still sound asleep in her lap. She hated to rouse him now, but the sooner she got him in bed, the better off he'd be. "Vaughn?" she whispered. "Vaughn, we're here. Wake up for just a few minutes."
"Do you need some help, Agent Bristow?" Roberts asked kindly.
"If you could just grab his suitcase, I'll get him inside," she smiled tensely.
"Syd?" Vaughn asked in confusion.
"We're at the safe house, Vaughn. You need to wake up so we can go inside. I promise you can go back to sleep in just a few minutes."
He groaned in pain, but finally conceded and sat up. "Where are we?" he asked in confusion, his head fuzzy from the pain and the medication.
"At the safe house," she repeated gently. "Come on, let's get you into bed."
She climbed out first and then eased him carefully from the seat and to a standing position. He leaned heavily on her, still battling to keep his eyes open and focused. Despite her own fatigue, Sydney knew he was feeling far worse, and bore most of his weight for him as they staggered inside. Roberts silently pointed her in the direction of the bedroom, and she gratefully accepted his help transporting Vaughn down the hallway. He quickly informed them of the contact protocol and their travel arrangements to head back to Los Angeles in a few days before taking his leave and leaving the couple alone.
Vaughn was almost asleep again, but Sydney knew he would wake up uncomfortable later if she didn't get him out of his sweater and jeans and into a better position in the bed. "Vaughn," she whispered. "Let's get you out of these clothes."
"Syd, I don't know if I can tonight…" he groaned apologetically.
Fighting the urge to chuckle, Sydney kissed him on the cheek. "Not like that, Vaughn," she scolded playfully. "I meant so you could sleep. The other stuff can wait until you're better."
"Promise?" he joked wearily.
"Yes, I promise," she laughed. "How do you want to do this?"
"It's gonna be hard to get it over my cast," he said, the pain seeping through his words. "Just…pull it quickly, I guess."
Sydney bit her lip, afraid of hurting him. "Are you sure?"
"Syd, it's going to hurt like hell no matter what we do, so let's just do it quickly," he begged.
She nodded reluctantly and helped him raise his arms over his head. His forehead creased in discomfort, but he didn't make a sound as he struggled to keep them up. Sydney saw him beginning to sweat from the exertion and worked frantically to pull the sweater up to his cast. Then, taking a deep breath, she yanked it the rest of the way. He hissed sharply and clenched his eyes shut, so Sydney immediately discarded the shirt and wrapped her arms around him. "You okay?" she breathed into his shoulder.
"Yeah," he gasped. "Hurts, though."
"I know," she murmured sympathetically. "I am so sorry, Vaughn," she added tearfully. "I hate this."
"I'm alright," he assured her softly.
She nodded again and quickly debated whether or not he needed a t-shirt. The last thing she wanted was for him to get sick on top of everything else, but the look of pain on his face nearly broke her heart. She couldn't make him go through that again. "I think we'll forego the shirt for tonight," she suggested. "Will you be warm enough?"
Vaughn managed to smile slightly and looked up at her with a teasing glint in his eyes. "You just want me shirtless," he murmured. "I know how you think."
Sydney rolled her eyes and forced him to lay back. "I'm not even going to touch that right now. Do you want anything to eat? There's probably not a whole lot but I can try to find us something if you're hungry."
Vaughn closed his eyes again and let his head rest against the pillow. "You should sleep, too," he sighed.
"You haven't eaten all day," she countered.
"I'm fine, Syd."
"Okay, well I'm hungry," she said, rising in frustration. She knew he was just trying to look out for her and the newest little addition to their lives, but as usual, he forgot about his own needs in favour of meeting hers. He couldn't even accept that right now he needed her help more than she needed his. "I'm going to find something to eat for myself, but if you're going to be stubborn, just go back to sleep," she demanded irritably.
"Sydney," he protested wearily. "I'm sorry. I know you're worried about me. I just don't want you to hurt yourself."
Sydney softened and sat back down next to him. "I know, but I'm not going to be able to relax until I know you're okay. So we're kind of stuck here."
"I am hungry," he conceded, too tired to argue further.
"Okay," she smiled, bending over to kiss his forehead. "Just rest and I'll be back in a few minutes."
As expected, the kitchen left much to be desired. Her father barely had time to arrange for a safe house between checking on Sydney and trying to determine a course of action to protect them from whoever tried to take Vaughn's life, so she wasn't expecting to find a well-stocked pantry. Most of the food was probably left over from the last people that used the house, but she did manage to find a box of pop-tarts and another of granola bars that didn't seem too ancient to be edible.
Walking back to the bedroom, she presented them with a mock flourish to an exhausted Vaughn. He smiled weakly at their limited choices and pointed to the pop-tarts. "Is this what we're living on for the next three days?" he asked as she handed him a packet and pulled out a granola bar for herself.
"I'll get Dad to send an agent with some real food," she assured him. "There's no way we can survive on just this, and I don't think we want to even think about eating anything else in that kitchen," she laughed.
"And you're eating for two," he reminded with a grin.
Sydney paused for a moment, stricken by his statement. She instinctively moved her hand to her stomach as though she might feel the baby currently growing inside. She knew it was way too early, but in all the frenzy and worry, she had barely had time to rejoice in the new life they created. "I guess I am," she agreed in wonder. "It's amazing, isn't it?" she asked softly.
Vaughn nodded solemnly, focusing intently on her face. "Incredible," he agreed.
"God, if I had lost you today…" she began with a trembling voice.
Vaughn quickly moved his hand to cover hers and shook his head, forbidding her to think about the possibilities. "You didn't," he promised.
"But Vaughn…"
"You didn't, Sydney," he repeated firmly. "And you won't. We're in this together."
She nodded, smiling a little for his sake. The thoughts still plagued her, however, and she suspected they would for quite some time. If he hadn't called her, if she hadn't been able to coax him out of the car, if he hadn't crawled out in time, she wouldn't be sitting here with him now. She would be mourning and making funeral arrangements instead of celebrating the miracle of a new life. "I guess I got two lives today," she murmured softly. Glancing over at him, she saw that he had finished eating and was struggling valiantly to stay awake for her. "Go to sleep," she commanded.
"You too," he argued.
Not even bothering to change clothes, she crawled beneath the covers, careful to avoid pressing against his sore ribs. She wanted to curl up next to him, but she was content with sharing a pillow for now, just until he was healed.
"I love you, Syd," he breathed as his eyes fluttered closed.
"Love you, too," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. She waited until the pain ebbed from his features and he slept peacefully, offered a small prayer of thanks to whoever protected all three of them, and then joined him in blissful unconsciousness.
Sydney stood in the kitchen, standing back from the table to survey her work from an objective angle. Smiling proudly, she realised everything looked absolutely perfect. The lights were dimmed, and two candles sat on the table, ready to be lit as soon as he arrived. She'd been rushing around all day since leaving the medical facility, frantically cleaning the apartment and throwing together all of his favourite foods. The pasta sauce was ready, the bread baking in the oven, and the salads were already on the table. She'd even stopped at the bakery on her way home and picked up a cake, now chilling in the refrigerator. The phone began to ring and she cursed under her breath, realising she'd forgotten to call Weiss to ask him to pick up Vaughn at the airport. His flight wasn't due in for another twenty minutes, but knowing Vaughn, he'd probably gotten an earlier flight just to surprise her, and was calling to tell her he was in a cab on the way home.
"Hello?" she answered nervously.
"Hey Syd," a familiar voice greeted.
"Weiss! Thank God!" she gushed. "I need you to go pick up Vaughn at the airport. I wanted to surprise him with dinner and I'm not ready yet."
"Syd…" he began, his voice catching.
Sydney was too distracted and excited to even notice the hitch in voice as he spoke. "He should be here in twenty minutes if his plane is on time. He told me he'd call from New York, but I guess he didn't have time. Will you go get him and bring him back to my place?" she asked hurriedly.
There was a long pause, and then Weiss spoke quietly. "Actually, we need you to come down to the ops centre, Sydney," he said seriously.
"Weiss, I have the day off," she groaned.
"Sydney, it's important. Please, just…just get down here."
"Well what am I supposed to do about Vaughn? Seriously, Weiss, tell my dad I can't make it. He knows I wasn't feeling good, so just tell him I'm sick. Whatever it is can wait until Vaughn and I both get there tomorrow," she tried to reason with him.
"It can't wait, Sydney."
She finally noticed the sadness in his voice, and her heart jumped to her throat. "What…what's going on, Weiss?" she asked anxiously, clinging tightly to the phone.
"It's about Vaughn."
That was all it took. Sydney slammed the phone down and grabbed her keys, forgetting all about the bread in the oven and the pasta sauce sitting on the stove. Without even bothering to change out of the slinky black dress she'd put on for him, she ran to her car and sped to the JTF.
Jack met her as soon as she got off the elevator, and he looked at her in shock. He realised immediately that she and Vaughn had something special planned tonight, given her formal attire and the way her hair was arranged in a delicate chignon. "Dad!" she cried, rushing to him.
"Sydney…" he began slowly, desperately seeking some way around the awful news.
"Dad, I need to know what's going on," she begged tremulously. "Please," she added.
"There was an accident, Sydney," he managed to say. "In Paris."
"What kind of accident? Is Vaughn okay? God, I could just kill him for going alone," she ranted.
"Sydney, Vaughn…Vaughn didn't make it."
Sydney just stared at him, unable to comprehend what he was telling her. "No," she shook her head. "Dad, no, that's not possible. He has to be okay."
"I'm so sorry, Sydney," her father said, reaching out to touch her gently on the arm.
"No!" she screamed, recoiling from his touch. "He can't be dead!" she pleaded. Weiss quietly joined them in the hallway, watching helplessly as she began to sob. "Dad, he can't be dead. I was supposed to go with him. He made me stay at home and he promised it would be an easy mission."
"It was a hit, Sydney," Weiss added. "There was nothing anyone could do. A truck slammed into the car and it caught on fire. If you had been with him, you would have died too."
"Daddy," she sobbed, desperate for comfort.
Jack quickly wrapped his arms around her, not caring about anyone that may be watching. His daughter was quickly falling to pieces, and he was terrified that she wouldn't survive another loss. "Come on, Sweetheart," he whispered. "Let's get you home."
The next thing Sydney knew, she was curled up on her dad's sofa, wearing an old sweatshirt he'd probably owned since college. He sat next to her, trying in vain to offer some comfort. Her perfectly applied makeup now dripped down her cheeks, creating black rivers of anguish that darkened her pale face. The carefully placed strands of hair, once perfectly arranged in painstaking deliberation for his arrival, now fell haphazardly around her face. Jack kept one arm around her, trying to still her shaking body.
"Daddy," she whispered brokenly. "Dad, he has to come back. He has to."
"I'm so sorry, Sweetheart," he said once more. It seemed to be the only phrase appropriate now. Nothing could take away her pain, and nothing could assuage the grief currently racking her thin frame.
"Dad, I didn't get to tell him. He was supposed to come home and it was going to be a surprise. Maybe if I called him…I was being so selfish. I just wanted it to be special, Dad."
"Tell him what, Sydney?" he asked softly, not even sure if she knew what she was saying at this point.
"That I'm pregnant, Dad. I'm going to have a baby."
"Shh," a voice whispered in her ear. "It's okay. You're okay," it murmured.
Scared and confused, Sydney opened her eyes and found Vaughn hovering anxiously above her, concern practically dripping from his face. She suddenly realised she was crying uncontrollably, and she reached up to wipe away her tears. Once she did, fresh ones appeared, beginning a new wave of sobs.
"Sydney," Vaughn murmured in anguish. "What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong," he pleaded.
She cried his name and clung to him, so as carefully as he could, he sat her up and tried to hold her. It was difficult without the use of one arm, but he really couldn't care less about the physical pain compared to the sheer agony of watching her cry without knowing why or how to stop it. She buried her head in his chest, crying out of relief when she listened to the steady beat of his heart.
"You're okay, Syd," he tried to comfort her. "It's alright now."
She calmed down enough to pull away and wipe her face, though a steady stream of tears continued to trail silently down her cheeks. "You were gone," she whispered, afraid to speak the words aloud. "I was waiting for you at home, but you never came. They told me you died in the accident, and I never got the chance to tell you about the baby."
Vaughn clenched his eyes shut in pain, hating how this incident would haunt her forever. It should have been the happiest day of her life, and instead she'd been put through the ringer emotionally and physically. She'd flown halfway around the globe, terrified of what she would find in the hospital room, knowing exactly how much was at stake. She'd lost a man before, and he knew she blamed herself. He didn't even want to think about what would have happened to her if he had really died in the accident. "I'm sorry, Syd, but it was just a bad dream. That's all it was. I'm here, and I'm okay," he swore.
Sydney nodded mutely, unable and unwilling to voice the thoughts still swirling around in her head, so twisted and mangled from exhaustion and fear. She continued to cling to him, his injuries all but forgotten in the midst of her terror. "I can't do this without you," she murmured desperately.
"You're not going to have to," he promised her. "I wouldn't miss out on this for anything."
Slowly, she began to calm down, her breathing returning to normal and her fear abating with the rational thought consciousness brought. It took only a few seconds for her to realise what she was doing, and she immediately let go of Vaughn, moving back to examine any further harm she'd done to him. "Oh my God, Vaughn, I'm so sorry!" she apologised. "God, are you okay? Did I hurt you?"
"Relax," he soothed. "I'm fine. I'm more worried about you. You think you can go back to sleep?"
"You'll be here?" she asked timidly.
"I'll be here."