DISCLAIMER: As much as I'd like to, I don't own Alias or its characters. It is the property of ABC, Touchstone and Bad Robot Productions.
SUMMARY: For those she left behind...
Fourth in the Cry of Orphans series. Links to previous stories in my signature.
RATED PG-13
GENRE: Angst
SPOILERS: None. This is a Future-Fic
DISTRIBUTION: I'd rather this is not distributed anywhere without my permission. I'll put it where I want it. But you're still welcome to contact me and try to convince me that my story should be in your fine archive.
Now back to your regularly scheduled Sydney-hate fest....
FAMILY OF ORPHANS
by Aliasscape
Copyright 2004
He could barely stand how calm she looked.
It was how calm she always looked. Since the day in the park. The day she'd broken back into his world, stolen his life away from him, and sent it spiraling out of control. He'd spent every waking moment wishing that day had never happened. That she had never come back. That she was dead. That the ground wasn't crumbling out from beneath him.
Yet, she stood before him, completely calm. Perhaps, she was even amused by his presence. She approached the glass. She studied him, her eyes lingering on what he clutched fiercely in his hand.
He'd been foolish to think that behind bars she would actually be rendered defenseless. She was caged, but not contained. Instead, she was proudly on display. An attraction rather than a prisoner. Glass walls stood between them, but nothing could protect him from her. The world revolved around her.
He couldn't believe there had been a time when he had been content with that. Content to live in her world. Content to love the lethal force of nature who had masqueraded as his wife, then ruined his life. Now he reduced their relationship to two simple facts.
He loved her. She killed him.
He could have forgiven her for that. But he would never forgive what she had thoughtlessly, if not heartlessly, done to the child she'd left behind. To Taryn. To the orphan she'd created. And he swore he would never let Sydney near Taryn again.
Not after everything they'd been through.
Sydney had disappeared in the early afternoon that first day. And yet, they were unable to find any useable leads. He stayed at the rotunda waiting for any news until nearly midnight. Sydney had been a spy for almost a decade. He shouldn't have been surprised that she could vanish without a trace in only a few hours.
"Take your daughter home, Vaughn. There's nothing more to do tonight."
A female agent at the rotunda had taken care of the baby all afternoon. Vaughn hadn't wanted her too far out of his sight. He had retrieved Taryn, taken her home and laid the baby in her crib.
She cried like she was being murdered.
He scooped her back into his arms immediately, settling in a rocking chair, turning her to face him on his lap. She quieted and stared back at him. He wrapped her in a blanket and rocked her to sleep in his arms. He didn't sleep, but he didn't put her down.
He didn't call for the nanny the next morning. He brought her to work with him again. He knew no one else thought that was a good idea. But she was his daughter, and he was her only parent for the time being. And a part of him worried, even if Sydney didn't come back to him, Sydney would come back to her baby. Or rather, come back to take her.
"We can have people watch the house, Mike. You don't have to keep bringing her here."
But Eric was wrong. He did have to. Apart of him did need to have her there. Right beside him where he knew he could protect her, comfort her whenever she needed, and remind himself that he hadn't lost his entire world. He still had Taryn. Despite the nagging thoughts that went with the question he couldn't ask anyone. If he didn't have Taryn--if they had never had Taryn, would he still have Sydney?
He found himself staring into the wide brown eyes of his baby, wondering. Wondering what had gone wrong. What had driven Sydney away from him? When had he really started to lose her? He retraced the previous days, weeks, and months prior to Sydney's disappearance. The things he'd come to accept as routine from her.
"You're home late."
"I stayed late at work grading papers. I didn't think I'd be able to concentrate here."
She never graded papers at home as she had before Taryn was born. But that he hadn't questioned. How could one read essays with a baby crying in the background? It made sense.
"You missed dinner."
"I grabbed something on the way home. What's going on?"
"I was about give Taryn a bath, get her ready for bed."
"Alright. I'm going to change clothes and take Donavan for a walk."
She'd walk out the door with the dog on a leash and never be gone less than an hour. He had always appreciated the way she took care of his dog. He hadn't nearly enough time to give the animal attention now that he had a baby. He thought Sydney was being thoughtful, recognizing this and just picking up the slack. But now, he realized, they could have been excuses to get out of the house. Excuses to get away from their baby. Excuses to get away from him?
The search for Sydney consumed his life. They dug into the family phone records, banking records, insurance, anything anyone could think of.
"There was a deposit of $10,000 into your joint account the day of her disappearance. Any ideas why?"
He questioned himself twice as often as he was actually questioned. About his routines, her routines, his moods, her moods. Jack only ever approached him with accusations that he had somehow driven Sydney away.
"Sydney did not pack up and leave for no reason at all. There must have been some indication that she was unhappy."
And Jack was right. There were indications. Things hadn't been perfect. Vaughn constantly wondered if he could have done more to help her.
He prayed that he would just get to talk to her. To get her to explain what happened. He'd apologize for not finding her sooner and offer her whatever it was she needed. He wished for a chance to be able to talk to her, just one last time. So he could at least know he'd done everything he could. So that he could know why.
He hated to recall those first few weeks without her. The emptiness of the house. He had their baby, but the baby couldn't replace adult company. He answered the phone, hoping every time it was Sydney, or at least news about Sydney. It never was.
"There was a raid on a museum in Rome. Evidence suggests it was Arvin Sloane."
He immediately began to look for any hints that Sloane was behind Sydney's disappearance. Perhaps he'd threatened or blackmailed her in someway. But why hadn't she told anyone? Why hadn't she gone to the CIA for protection? Why run away? To protect him? The baby? Why was she always so against asking for help? Maybe there hadn't been time. Maybe Sloane's people had made Sydney disappear. Vaughn swore he was going to find her, rescue her, bring her back.
With agents watching the house, Vaughn allowed the nanny to resume care of Taryn. Vaughn went after every lead that was even remotely tied to Sloane. He took teams a7nd raided old airstrips, warehouses, labs, and compounds. He kept expecting to find Sydney locked in a room someplace within. He feared it as well. Every time he didn't find her, he was left to wonder if perhaps he was too late. Left to wonder if his wife was already dead somewhere.
"You can't keep going like this, Mike," Weiss told him. "You spend your every waking moment searching for her. You've gotta take care of yourself."
"If I stop searching, I have to let her go. I can't do that."
Not when he had this aching feeling that wherever she was, she was not okay. How could he face his daughter when she got old enough to ask questions about what happened to her mother if he hadn't made his every effort to find her?
Four months passed. He could barely remember them. He spent them out of the country, following possible leads on Sydney's whereabouts.
"This just came in. Surveillance footage from a bank in Switzerland."
Even with the grainy blue of the picture it wasn't hard to spot one blond assassin withdrawing funds.
Maybe it wasn't Sloane they should have been looking for. The second he saw the footage, his mind immediately connected Sark to Irina. It couldn't a coincidence that they had suddenly resurfaced as well. Unfortunately, the CIA had little information on her organization. Not their compounds or their operatives. Refocusing the search on her meant starting from scratch. It meant more time raiding abandoned compounds and meeting informants, paying them more money for less information.
It meant more time away from Taryn.
He would come home and she'd grasp onto his leg and cry because she was so happy to see him. He would take her into his arms and hold her and rock her. Anything to reassure her. She was easier to calm down each time. He'd thought that was a good thing. That she was realizing that even though he went away that he'd always come back.
Six months escaped him. Leads were drying up. Threats were emerging that the CIA thought more important than searching for Derevko. He continued his search with the limited number of agents he was given. But then the reports came.
"Derevko has a new protégé."
Reports were sketchy at best. A female in her mid-thirties. The hair and eye color couldn't be confirmed. She seemed a representative according to the informants. A negotiator. A courier. Never appearing with less than three guards by her side. But whether she was in control of the guards, or the guards were in control of her was never clear.
"We have to rescue her."
"Maybe she doesn't need to be rescued. Maybe she needs you to let her go."
He refused to believe that. He threw himself into the search all the more so. He tried to learn all he could about this protégé. He wanted confirmation that it was Sydney, or rather confirmation that it wasn't. He couldn't have lost Sydney. Not to her mother. Not to the woman who had abandoned her when she was six years old. Not to the woman who had killed his father! Why would she abandon him for the woman her had abandoned her? How could she?
"She wanted justice."
"She wanted a mother."
For the first time since her disappearance, he was actually angry with her. For choosing her mother over him. For choosing to run away from her life, her responsibilities, her baby. He went home that night. It'd been almost a week since he'd been home. He opened the door, ready to wrap his arms around his daughter but she didn't come to the door as he had expected. He found her in her bedroom, engaged in looking at a picture book. He gave her a hug and kiss, and she never stopped flipping the pages of the book. He got the horrible feeling that he'd lost something he was never going to be able to get back. He turned to the nanny but she didn't seem the least bit surprised. She spoke before he could.
"You can look for your wife, or you can raise your daughter. One or the other."
Her words burned into his ears. He'd spent far more time with Taryn before Sydney's disappearance. Now, when his daughter needed him most, when she was adjusting to losing her mother, he was making her grow up without a father too.
He turned in his resignation the next day.
"You're sure you don't want to think about this a few days?" Devlin asked.
"There's nothing to think about, sir. I'm not going to change my mind."
Weiss was the only one truly supportive of his decision. He'd helped Vaughn clean out his desk and carry his belongings to the car.
"I'll come by. We'll take Taryn to the zoo or something."
Vaughn smiled. "She'd like that."
He'd left the CIA that day with no regrets. With a clear idea of what he was going to do with his life. With his daughter's life. A life that would no longer be centered on Sydney. Boxing up the remnants of his life with her was easier than it should have been. Protecting Taryn took precedence over things left behind by a woman that who had abandoned her family. He didn't fight with Jack Bristow when it was obvious he was dropping out of Taryn's life. He had thought life might even be easier without Jack's blame and constant scrutiny.
Vaughn knew he was far too indulgent those first couple of years. He couldn't take her with him to the store without returning with whatever object or cereal the child had wanted. The nanny thought he was overcompensating for the year he had missed much of. But the truth was, he just couldn't bear it to hear his daughter cry.
Perhaps it wasn't exactly his fault alone. Weiss and Will were always buying Taryn gifts and sweets. And they were always suggesting that Vaughn take her to the park or the zoo. He enjoyed taking her but it worried him how independent and fearless Taryn was. He found himself constantly scolding her for chattering to strangers and wandering away.
"You're overprotective of her, Vaughn," Weiss told him one evening. "You hardly let her go anywhere without you."
"She's four years old. Why on earth would she being going places alone?"
"I didn't say alone, Vaughn. I said, without you. I don't know the last time you let me take her anywhere alone, even if only for a couple hours. What are you going to do when she starts school next year?"
Vaughn hadn't had a response. He'd simply gone about his routine.
He tucked Taryn into bed each night, and read her a story. She'd hug her favorite stuffed fox close and listen intently. Though after turning four, she started to interrupt him with questions.
"...After the death of his wife, Cinderella's father was very sad, but he took comfort in raising his daughter and eventually he married again...."
"Daddy?" Taryn interrupted. "Did my Mommy die like Cinderella's Mommy?"
Vaughn swallowed, forcing himself not to frown, but he couldn't help the downcast expression that clouded his face. He was awkwardly silent a moment. "No, Taryn. She didn't--"
"Then, why don't I have a Mommy?" Taryn inquired, her brown eyes watching him seriously.
Vaughn closed the book and sighed. "There are different kinds of families, Taryn. Some with two parents and some with just a mommy, or just a daddy. Some with lots of kids, or just one." He pulled her close to him and kissed the top of her head. "I love you very much, Taryn. You know that."
Taryn grinned. "I love you too, Daddy. And you do everything, I don't even need a mommy."
He had smiled at the confidence with which Taryn had said the words. He wished every conversation he'd had with Taryn about her mother had been able to go that smoothly. It had been able to give him hope that the fact that his daughter was motherless wasn't going to seriously affect her.
But she was a very sensitive child. And the scars of having lost a parent began to affect everything about her. He'd never forget the look on the face of the five year old when he'd had to inform her that the dog had died.
"But...why?" she'd wailed, her questioning eyes full of tears. "What did I do?"
"Nothing, Taryn. You didn't do anything wrong. He was just old." He'd tried to pull her into his arms. "Maybe we can get a new dog. A puppy."
She'd wriggled out of his arms and looked at him with cold eyes. "I don't want a new dog! I want Donovan back."
He had sighed. "You can't ever have him back, Princess."
Taryn had run into her bedroom and slammed the door. She moped around for days, eating very little. She clung to the pictures she had of the dog. She wouldn't let him put away the dog bowls or throw out the dog food. She kept his leash, collar and tags in her bedroom. He'd wake up in the middle of the night and she'd be standing at the foot of his bed, just watching him. When he moved, she'd run back to her bed and pull the covers over her head. But if when he went to her room to check on her, she wouldn't talk to him and she wouldn't let him hold her.
He felt so helpless. He waited almost a month before he finally found a puppy of the same breed and brought it home. He called Taryn in to see it.
"That's not Donovan," she told him.
He kept the puppy two weeks. Taryn wouldn't touch it, wouldn't play with it or feed it. She refused to name it. He ended up giving it away.
"You can't replace it. Something she loved has disappeared. It's her first real loss," Will decided.
"Not her first," Vaughn countered.
"You're right." Will was quiet a moment. "But now, for the first time, she gets to feel it."
He was so used to looking forward to firsts. First smile, first tooth, first word, first step. Suddenly now, he feared her firsts. First broken bone. First cavity. Her next first descended on them like the fall of night. First day of school.
"I'll see you after school, Taryn."
She didn't even look up at him. He knelt down expecting to see tears in her eyes. There were none. When he wrapped his arms around her to hug her goodbye, she stiffened. She backed away as soon as he let her go. He decided it was probably better not to make a big deal out of leaving. He waved. She didn't wave back. She stared at him, looking betrayed and alone.
When he came into the classroom at the end of the day, she was curled up in a chair. The teacher told him she'd curled up in a corner and cried silently the second he had left. They'd been unable to find anything to comfort her.
He picked her up.
"I missed you," he whispered in her ear as he carried her from the school to the car.
She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face. "Please. Please don't leave me there ever again."
He knew he couldn't make such a promise, but he couldn't tell her that. So he'd comforted her with an ice cream cone and visit to the park to feed ducks. He tucked her into bed that night, but when he mentioned school, he watched her face cloud over and her eyes turn cold. She wriggled away when he tried to kiss her goodnight.
He didn't sleep that night. He spent the time wondering if she would ever trust him again.
Taryn's attitude towards school improved, but he wasn't sure if she ever actually adjusted to being there. Her teacher confirmed that at his first conference.
"Taryn's a bright child, perhaps one of the brightest in the class. But I'm worried that she's not making friends. Three months and she still keeps very much to herself. The other kids do try to include her, but Taryn can be very confrontational."
Vaughn didn't know what to do when he began getting reports that his kindergartener was getting into fights with her classmates.
"Why, Taryn? What are you fighting about?"
The five-year-old refused to even look at him.
He knelt down to her height and turned her towards him "Look at me. Talk to me. There is no excuse for you to behave this way. No fighting, Taryn. Do you understand?"
All he was able to get out of her was a half-hearted nod, so he wasn't surprised that the reports didn't stop. The look in her eyes as he'd question her about the incidents was a mixture of sad and angry. But her answer as to why was always the same.
"I don't know. I'm sorry. Please don't hate me."
She would fold her arms hugging herself, and respond stiffly to his hugs and reassurances that there was nothing she could ever do to make him hate her. He was certain she was truly sorry, every time. If not for fighting, for disappointing him. He knew he should scold her further, but he could rarely bring himself to do it. She would crush so immediately and completely and would refuse to be consoled. And she seemed so sensitive that she would do anything to avoid his disapproval.
He knelt down and lifted the tablecloth on the dining room table. "Taryn, why are you hiding?"
Taryn stared into her lap. "I got scared, so I hid."
He pulled her out and into his arms. "Do you have any idea how much it scares me not to know where you are? Even for a second?"
"I'm sorry." She hugged him carefully. "I'm glad you came to find me." She pulled back from the hug and he watched a serious look form on the five-year-old's face. "Daddy? Maybe Mommy's hiding, cause she was scared like me. Maybe you need to find her."
He added an ability to catch him completely off guard to his daughter's list of superpowers. He couldn't get her to reveal what had brought her mother into her thoughts. A blank piece of paper was sent home from school the next day. A teacher's handwriting told him that the assignment had been to make a picture of her mother.
Vaughn couldn't have been more thankful when summer vacation came. He thought if he could just love Taryn enough it would solve everything. More attention, more quality time. More reassurances of love. Hugs, kisses and surrounding her with people that loved her. He thought he suceeded. The summer passed without incident.
He hoped a new school year would mean a better school year. At first, he thought it was. He took up a position teaching French at a local college to have something to do with the time that he used to fill with nothing but Taryn. For almost two months, there were no reports from the school, and then he got a phone call ordering him to a teacher's conference. A child's nose was broken. Taryn was expelled.
"You can find another school that'll take her," Weiss assured him.
"I'm not going to look. I'm not going to put her through that. I'll home school her myself."
Taryn was a fast learner, and he enjoyed the time they got to spend with just the two of them. But while he could be assured she was learning, he was still concerned about her lack of social interactions with kids her own age. He was also still concerned with how she handled frustration, any time she didn't catch onto a new learning concept right away. It was always physically tearing up her homework, flinging her pencils across the room, or kicking walls. He'd tell her to stop and she'd ball her little hands into fists, holding them rigidly at her side, breathing in and out as if she'd explode if she didn't.
"It's okay, Taryn."
But it wasn't.
He realized how much he truly didn't know his daughter. Sometimes he'd find her in her bedroom, curled up and in tears. He couldn't get her to talk about what made her cry. Other times he'd awaken her from a nightmare. She'd wrap her arms around him and sob into his chest.
"I couldn't find you. I couldn't find you! Don't ever leave me, Daddy! Please don't ever leave."
He assured her that he wouldn't, but he hated her terror. He hated that she was constantly worried that he was going to disappear and leave her behind somehow. He finally sought professional help, putting his daughter in therapy. The therapist seemed to find the obvious at first.
"Taryn has a lot of repressed anger."
He also learned things he hadn't expected. The therapist asked him to come in and hear a recording she'd gotten Taryn's permission to share with him. The words on the tape stunned him.
"I make my Daddy sad."
The therapist stopped the tape and Vaughn looked at her. "Why would she say that?" he wondered.
The therapist had tilted her head. "Is it true?"
He had responded with a negative but with his focus solely on Taryn, it had been impossible not to notice how much she resembled her mother. Little things, the way she spoke, the way she'd tuck her hair behind her ear. Sometimes he'd see her curled up in her bed with a journal book Will had given her and the lighting would catch her perfectly to make her profile look like Sydney's. For a moment, he'd let himself miss Sydney. Then, he'd turned away, unable to keep watching her for fear he'd start to cry.
He didn't blame Taryn. He blamed his own memories.
He blamed Sydney.
But there was no way to explain that to Taryn. He knew he left her confused so many times.
"Taryn, where did you get that pen?"
"In your room. You never use it."
"Give it to me," he ordered.
She handed it to him immediately.
"I don't want you to ever touch it again. Do you understand?"
She stared at him with wide brown eyes. Confusion so obvious on her face, but she nodded.
He detailed the event to Weiss the next day. Weiss had given him a shocked look.
"You kept the pen recording?"
"It may have been the last thing I ever heard from my wife. I wasn't going to erase it."
More truthfully, he couldn't erase it. At first he had listened to it over and over again, looking for there to be a hidden message in Sydney's words. Then, he listened trying to decipher from her words and tone, the true reason behind her leaving.
And sometimes he listened just to hear her voice.
The therapist didn't seem to believe his decision to keep information about his wife to a minimum was a protection to his daughter.
"I don't think you realize everything your daughter has lost by not having a mother, by not knowing a thing about her. Taryn is missing half of who is. It's information that she very much wants. And she can't help but feel angry, because she knows that you are keeping that information specifically from her."
He knew the therapist firmly believed what she was saying, but she had no idea what she was talking about. He couldn't give Taryn any more information about Sydney. It just wasn't safe. He tried to steer the conversation back towards the issues that worried him. Such as that Taryn still didn't have any friends her own age.
"Get her involved in activities where she can interact with other children."
Sports seemed like the perfect solution. Teamwork and lots of kids. Though knowing his daughter's temper, Vaughn refused to allow her into any sport with a bats or sticks. Soccer was the sport they both agreed on. She enjoyed playing it, and he enjoyed watching her play it. She became a goalie and within the first couple of weeks made a new friend.
"Her name is Lila, Daddy! And she said I can come to her house and her mom will make us cookies!"
Lila Ramirez was a Hispanic girl, a year older than Taryn. Lila was a shyer child than Taryn, but very polite. Lila's father had died when Lila was a baby. Her mother, Sofia, coached the team. Vaughn had been able to observe the girls together, playing soccer, at practices. He was pleased that Sofia was more than happy to welcome Taryn into her home and returned the favor. After a few visits, Lila and Taryn began spending the night at each other's houses, it seemed the two of them had become inseparable.
Vaughn began to feel like he was the father of two daughters, if Taryn and Lila were at his house, or none at all when Taryn and Lila were at Lila's house. And yet, it was comforting how normal it was to have his house filled with giggles and girls decorating cookies and cupcakes and with chauffeuring to soccer practices and ice cream shops. Taryn and Lila's friendship added a whole new dimension to his life and it seemed to partially fill a void in Taryn's. He was comforted that Taryn had Lila's mother as a maternal figure in her life. Even if it did bring up the mother issue more often between them.
"Lila's mommy has pictures of her Daddy all over. She gets to have a picture of him and her together right beside her bed. And her Mommy tells her stories about what he was like. Why can't I have a picture of my mommy?"
"Because Lila's mommy decides what's best for Lila, and I decide to what's best for you."
"It's not fair!" Taryn stomped off to her room and slammed the door.
He'd sunk into a chair. Taryn was right. It wasn't fair. And he realized that Taryn's friendship with Lila and her mother was not going to make their lives any more normal.
Taryn went to Lila's house for a slumber party only to have Mrs. Ramirez call him in the middle of the night telling him he needed to come and get her.
"She's locked herself in the bathroom and refuses to let anyone in." Mrs. Ramirez led the way to the bathroom.
"Taryn, it's Daddy. What's the matter?"
He got sniffles in response but the door didn't open. He looked to Lila. "What happened just before she went in there?"
Lila shrugged, sheepishly. "We were having a pillow fight. And she fell down and someone hit her with a pillow and then she ran into the bathroom and wouldn't come out."
Mrs. Ramirez guided Lila back to the group, leaving Vaughn at the door alone. "Taryn, let me in," he called.
"No."
"Taryn, don't make me pick this lock."
Hesitantly, his daughter opened the door and he stepped inside. She was drying her eyes with tissues, but she was trembling. "What happened?" He took her into his arms.
"I want to go home," she told him.
"We'll go home," he assured her. "Just tell me what upset you."
The little girl shrugged. "I just want to go home now."
It wasn't something Taryn would ever talk about. To bring it up upset her so much that Vaughn let it go. Her therapist admitted Taryn didn't seem to know what had upset her anymore than they did.
It didn't ever happen again. Taryn went to Lila's for more slumber parties and survived them without incident. Again, he found himself hoping for more normal to their lives. He relaxed enough to enjoy being a father.
"Look, Daddy! I'm a princess."
And she was his princess. His wild princess. She always would be.
"Look, Daddy! I'm a ballerina."
And she'd dance for him.
"Don't look, Daddy! I'm a spy!"
And his heart slammed into his ears. She would hide in the trees and bushes and stalk around the backyard. She'd sneak from table to chair around the living room. Peek out from behind the couch with a toy telescope. A pocket tape recorder in hand she'd record private conversations. And he'd wish she'd pretend to be anything else. A teacher, a doctor, a veterinarian. She was in giggles over her newest game.
And he was in terror, watching her play out his greatest fear.
"Go to your room, Taryn."
"But Daddy-"
"Now."
She was not going to have anything to do with the spy life, not even for pretend. Taryn was not going to be a spy. Nor was she going to be entertained by books, movies or TV shows about them.
"She's so stubborn," Vaughn told Will one afternoon as they watched one of Taryn's soccer practices.
"Sounds like someone we used to know," Will laughed.
"She's more like her everyday."
"She definitely looks more like her," Will agreed.
"It's not just that. She talks on the phone to my mother in perfect French. In this past year, with all the time she's been spending with Lila, she's picking up Spanish. I've been teaching her to shoot back in the woods behind the house, and her aim gets better and better."
"What'd you expect?" Will laughed. "She has you and Sydney as parents. She was born to be a spy."
Vaughn watched his seven-year-old kick give the ball an aggressive kick away from the goal and halfway across the field. "No, she wasn't."
But Taryn did everything possible to prove him wrong.
"Where's Taryn?" Weiss inquired.
"Lila's mother is spoiling the two of them rotten with some girl's only pizza party. A sort of pre-game celebration."
"House is quiet without her," Weiss noted.
"It is. I'm actually starting to enjoy these little breaks from her."
Weiss gave him a wide-eyed look. "Feeling alright, Mike?"
Vaughn sunk onto the couch. "Just tired..." He sighed and more honestly continued, "Just lately, whenever Taryn's around it's impossible not to think of...." He trailed off.
"I know," Weiss answered, sitting down in a chair.
"She's just so much like her, Eric. More like her everyday. The things I loved about her and...her flaws. When Taryn gets upset, she can't talk to me. She's too worried about upsetting me if she does. And I think, if I could go back in time, if I could have realized that about her mother, and we'd talked things through, maybe she would have told me that having a baby wasn't something she wanted at the time. I think I could have respected that."
"But Mike, if you'd done that, Taryn might not even exist now."
"I know." Vaughn fell silent. But he'd still have Sydney.
And Sydney was more than he could have ever wanted.
Taryn arrived home from her pizza party hours later. She told him how excited she was about the upcoming game. He'd tucked her into bed. They'd gone to a soccer game the following the day, and Taryn's team unfortunately lost. Taryn had seemed more crushed than usual about a bad game, moped around the rest of the day and gone to bed early.
He thought she was tired and let her sleep in late the next morning. But finally around 11am he'd gone to wake her. The bed was empty, nothing but pillows and rolled up blankets.
Taryn was gone.
Even with no signs of a struggle, his mind immediately went to the worst thoughts. Who could have taken her? Why? How had they gotten past the security system? His mind ran through the possibilities. Random robbers or kidnappers he dismissed quickly. Was it Sloane, Sark, or Derevko? Enemies of his? Enemies of Sydney's? Or the worst possibility of all.
What if it was Sydney herself?
He called Weiss and Will and they conducted a thorough search of the house and the woods behind it. But why would Taryn run away?
"Sure they lost a game but we've talked about that before. She knows sports aren't just about winning. She was upset but, they've lost games before. What's different this time?"
Weiss looked at him and debated. "Have you called Lila and her mother? Maybe Taryn went there or told Lila something?"
Mrs. Ramirez was more than happy to let Vaughn talk to Lila when she heard of the situation. But the eight-year-old didn't want to talk to him at all.
"Please, Lila. If Taryn told you anything, I need to know. What did she say? Was she upset about losing the game?"
Lila looked up at him incredulously. "She didn't care about the stupid game!"
Vaughn sat up straighter. "Then, what was it?"
Lila crossed her arms across her chest, frowning. "She knows you hate her!"
"Lila, what are you talking about? I love Taryn."
"No, you don't! She knows you wish she was never born!"
"Lila, what do you mean? I never said that."
"We heard you talking. Taryn set up her tape recorder in the living room and we got the tape yesterday. We heard you tell Eric. That's why she left!" Lila hopped off her living room couch and ran to the doorway where her mother stood.
Vaughn moved to follow and knelt down. "Lila, I know what you think you heard, but you misunderstood. I love Taryn very much, and I want her to come home where she's safe. I need you to tell me if you know where she went."
Lila frowned at him. "She ran away."
"But where, Lila?" Mrs. Ramirez questioned.
Lila gave him a defiant look, but at her mother's urging finally answered, "The backyard."
Vaughn had taken off to the backyard and found Taryn asleep in Lila's tree house. He sighed, took her into her arms and just hugged her. She stirred, blinked her eyes opened and looked at him.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I was worried about you."
She frowned. "No you weren't."
"You really scared me today, Taryn. I thought I'd lost you."
Taryn wriggled out of his arms.
"No, Taryn, listen." He turned her back to face him. "I mean that. I don't want to lose you. I don't know what you think you heard, but whatever it was, I'm sorry that it made you think I didn't want you. You are the most important person in the world to me."
She looked down and said nothing.
He sighed. "Let's go home, Taryn."
She had gathered her things and come down from the tree, but he couldn't help but think it was really for lack of other options more than any desire to return home. The car ride home was silent. Taryn holed up in her bedroom the second they got back to the house. She refused meals or to talk to him. He had to leave her alone. There was nothing else he could do. He had hurt her. He loved her more than anything, and he had hurt her. What could he say or do to fix that?
When he tried to talk to her, she wouldn't even look at him. He could see it in her eyes. She hated him. And behind that, she was in pain. She was lonely and his presence was of no comfort to her at all.
"I don't know if this is something we can ever get past, Eric. This is…the last thing I have ever wanted her to feel. Unwanted and alone. Since the day Sydney left, I have tried to do everything to avoid that."
Because he knew if he didn't, then his worst fear could come true. He would lose Taryn too. But at times like this, he feared that no matter what he did he was going to lose Taryn. Because he'd lost her the day Sydney left.
Two weeks of walking on eggshells around his daughter and Vaughn didn't feel any closer to resolving things between them. She avoided and ignored him, keeping to herself whenever he was around. He alternated between trying to give her more attention and leaving her alone. Neither seemed to have much of an effect, but he thought he had time.
And then at the beginning of the third week, Taryn was playing in the backyard, he was putting away laundry in her room and his daughter's scream had shattered his world. He abandoned the laundry and rushed to the backyard.
"Taryn?"
After only a moment his eyes had settled on her lifeless body strewn across the grass under a tree. He had rushed over, shouting, crying her name and gotten no response. He'd ripped his cellphone from his pocket, as he'd fearfully taken her pulse. He couldn't move her. He didn't dare pick her up. The next few minutes passed him in a blur. He'd stroked her hair, and tried to get her to awaken. Sirens blared down the street. Fire trucks and ambulances invaded the driveway. Fireman and paramedics trampled his lawn, asking myriads of questions. Then, they'd stabilized Taryn's neck and spine and started to take her to the ambulance. He'd rode along, trying to answer medical history questions the whole way.
They arrived at the hospital an eternity later. They wheeled Taryn into the ER. It was then that she started to come around. Her eyes widened at unfamiliar surroundings and strange faces.
"DADDY!"
"I'm here, Taryn."
He held her hand as doctors went through exams and x-rays, telling her she was going to be fine even though he had no idea whether or not that was really true. He could hardly bear seeing his vibrant daughter so fragile and small.
"Good news, Mr. Vaughn. Your daughter has no broken bones, just some minor abrasions. She does have a concussion that we want to keep an eye on. We're going to get her settled in a room upstairs, and keep her overnight for observation. Is there anyone you'd like to call?"
Weiss was on assignment. Will was out of town visiting family. He talked to Mrs. Ramirez who said she'd inform Lila and they'd drop by for a visit when Taryn was home. He stood outside Taryn's room, just staring at the phone in his hand. He hesitated before dialing one more number.
"Jack Bristow."
It was a short awkward conversation, but a half an hour later, he was face to face with the father-in-law he hadn't spoken to in five years. He didn't feel uncomfortable. He felt threatened. What was Jack doing here? He hadn't asked him to come. Vaughn had just wanted him to be informed of his granddaughter's situation. But what was Jack doing here at the hospital? Was he going to see Taryn and then drop out of her life again until the next family emergency? He wasn't going to introduce his daughter to her grandfather if he wasn't going to be apart of her life.
Was Jack there to scrutinize his parenting skills? To question him as to how he could have possibly been so irresponsible? Tell him how thankful he should be that Taryn was even alive?
But it wasn't the proud, defiant, scrutinizing Jack Bristow that stood before him. Instead, he looked apologetic, regretful and concerned. With a deep sincerity, Jack convinced him that he was no threat, and Vaughn led him into the room.
Taryn had been resting peacefully when Vaughn had left her but she was awake when they entered. He finally stepped up and introduced Jack as her grandfather. Taryn looked vaguely puzzled and watched Jack warily. He hoped Jack wasn't offended that Taryn didn't just immediately accept him. Vaughn didn't blame his daughter for her hesitant attitude about a grandfather she hadn't seen in five years.
Taryn wasn't any warmer towards Jack when they parted company at end of her hospital stay. Lila and her mother visited as promised, bringing Taryn balloons and a card. Vaughn had vaguely expected Jack to call and check on Taryn's recovery, but he didn't. Instead he dropped by two days later, unexpectedly. Taryn and Jack seemed to really get along during that visit. Vaughn wasn't sure whether to be more worried or pleased when he watched Taryn embrace her grandfather with a hug before he left.
He decided on worried when the door closed and Taryn turned and looked at him seriously.
"If that's Mommy's daddy, then where's Mommy's mommy?"
He'd sighed realizing the can of worms he'd opened by bringing Jack back into Taryn's life. He called him up a day later and expressed his concerns.
"I want Taryn to know you. I want her to have a grandfather. But that doesn't change the decision I made five years ago about what I was going to tell her about her mother."
"Someday, she will have to be told the truth. But I will respect the boundaries you set about the information she's given."
With his mind eased about that, Vaughn encouraged Taryn to get to know her grandfather. He'd never seen her embrace anyone the way she embraced Jack. She talked to him on the phone, and looked for opportunities to go on outings with him whenever she could. Jack attended a few of her soccer games and invited her to his house often.
She returned from Jack's house with things to tell him about her mother quite regularly.
"Mommy liked carousels, and beaches and ice cream."
He'd nod and pretend this information was all new to him. He never volunteered any details or new information. And he rarely answered the questions Taryn had because of it.
"You could talk to her about things other than Sydney," Vaughn snapped at Jack one afternoon.
Jack nodded. "She wants to know everything she possibly can about her mother. And I won't lie to her."
"I'm not asking you to lie. But the more you tell her about Sydney, the more she knows about what she's missing. You're cultivating her interest in a woman who has shown no interest in her."
And he didn't want Taryn to ever have to know that.
He'd always thought there'd be phone calls. Hang-ups in the middle of the night. Just wanting him to pick up so she'd know he was alive and well. Then, he thought maybe there'd be letters. Unsigned, with no return address. Just to ease his mind, so he'd know she was alive and well. He thought there'd be gifts for Taryn. That he'd have to make a decision on whether or not to give her or whether or not to tell her who they were from. And in the absence of all those, he expected divorce papers. So, she could severe ties with them completely.
But there was nothing. Nothing to show any interest or concern. Nor any sign that she was missing them. No closure.
"It's not a crime for you to move on with your life," Weiss told him. "You can get some kind of absentee divorce."
But he couldn't just move on. Some nights when he was sure Taryn was asleep he'd dig out his wedding band and wonder. He'd searched the house thoroughly, wondering if Sydney had left hers behind. He couldn't find it. If she intended to never see him again, why had she taken the ring? He shouldn't wonder. He shouldn't care. But he did.
The divorce he didn't worry about. Taryn was his focus. Anyone else was going to be second. And Taryn always found more than a few ways to keep him on his toes.
"Daddy, I want to try going to school again."
He debated, not wanting to put her through the troubles they'd gone through the last time. He'd sought the advice of her therapist and Lila's mother. And finally decided to try and get her enrolled in Lila's school. He took it as a good sign that he was able to do even more than that. Taryn tested in a grade ahead for her age, so he was not only able to get her into Lila's school, but Lila's class.
And this time, Taryn thrived there. She made new friends. She made good grades. And she didn't get into fights. She actually seemed to fit in at school. He still taught evening classes at the college, but it left his afternoons rather empty.
Which gave him time to focus on the family finances.
"Mike, you look worried. What's up?"
"My job at the college isn't going to be able to keep covering the expenses. The house needs some repairs; Taryn's growing out of all her clothes. The therapy bills...."
Weiss sighed. "You know you still haven't touched the ten thousand dollars Sydney left you."
"And I'm not going to."
"I know after what she did, you don't want to feel like you owe her anything, but the way I see it, you deserve that money. She obviously wanted you to have it. She's certainly not contributing anything else to Taryn's life, add in pain and suffering and I say it comes out to just about ten thousand dollars."
He couldn't agree. He wasn't going to touch that money. He'd been raising Taryn fine without it for years, he wasn't going to start relying on it now.
"Money problems, huh?" Will sighed. "You'll hate me for suggesting this, but you could come back."
"To the CIA. Will, I left that life, I have a daughter to--"
"Not back out in the field. Just…back."
He didn't want to even consider it at first. Going back to that life. A life he'd shared with Sydney.
"If you come back, it doesn't have to be about Sydney," Weiss mentioned. "You don't have to work on those cases."
He wasn't sure avoiding the cases would be enough. It was going to be strange, being there without her. He was surprised the advice that impacted his decision came from Jack Bristow.
"You told me that Sydney wasn't going to be a part of your life anymore. If that is truly the case, then she should have nothing to do with your decision whether or not to rejoin the CIA."
He looked at his mounting bills, and called Devlin the next day. He decided he'd work during the day, and he wanted a schedule where he'd still be there for Taryn as much as possible.
"What are you going to tell Taryn?" Weiss questioned.
"That Daddy works for the government. I think she's too young to care about the details."
And so he returned to the CIA. He went back into the Operations Center, back to the office that he had spent months in looking at reports that he'd hoped would give him some clue what happened to his wife.
It wasn't as big an adjustment as he'd thought it'd be. He was still able to help Taryn with her homework, fix her meals and talk to her about her school day.
"Lila plays the flute. I want to play the flute too."
Vaughn thought it was a great idea at first. Playing a musical instrument would teach Taryn about discipline, patience, hard work and perseverance.
The flute lessons lasted two weeks exactly. They ended abruptly, with Vaughn paying damages to the school for a shattered window and a broken flute. He hoped his daughter would be able to learn to control her temper eventually.
"Perhaps flute wasn't the right instrument for her," Jack decided. "She likes to play with the piano at my house. She could take private lessons-"
"No, Taryn and I have already decided no more music classes. At least, not for awhile."
Jack tried to insist that Taryn might do better with private lessons instead of a music class setting, but Vaughn felt here had to be some consequences for her behavior.
School seemed to go smoothly after that and Vaughn was pleased that conferences with her teacher were only made during the normal period of grading.
"Taryn is a joy to have in class. She asks questions, always actively participates in discussions. Her test scores are well above average. I definitely think we can get her into some of our advanced programs. You've done a wonderful job with her Mr. Vaughn. It seems Taryn has been able to adjust to the death of her mother very well."
Vaughn blinked. "The death of her mother?"
"Yes," the teacher continued without notice of his confusion. "She was hesitant to talk about it at first, but I think she's more comfortable in class now that she has."
He had no idea what he was going to say to his daughter as he walked into his house that evening. The nanny told him Taryn was reading in her room. He went in and opened the door. She had looked up at him and started to smile.
"Why did you tell them she was dead?"
Taryn sunk behind her book.
He crossed the room, took the book from her hands and turned her to face him. "No, Taryn. You look at me and you explain why you told your teacher and your classmates that your mother was dead."
Taryn sighed. "Lila's daddy's dead. No one picks on her."
Vaughn raised his eyebrows. "They picked on you?"
His daughter shrugged.
"Taryn?"
"They kept asking. I just wasn't answering and they wouldn't accept the answer that I just didn't have one. So...I told them she was dead and they stopped."
"But, she's not dead, Taryn."
"I know." She turned away and curled up on the bed. "She might as well be dead."
He didn't know what to say. He had intended to scold her for lying but it wasn't as if she was wrong. Sydney was certainly dead to her. There were times when he'd wanted to tell Taryn Sydney was dead. Times when he'd wanted to tell himself she was dead. If he'd wanted to live that lie, then how could he blame Taryn for wanting the same? It made things easier.
Dead didn't leave uncertainty about the future. Dead didn't leave behind any questions.
Dead wasn't by choice.
He couldn't tell Taryn she had to go and tell her classmates and teachers the truth. Because that would lead to the inevitable question.
What was the truth?
Seven years old. Trying so hard for acceptance among her peers. But still so emotionally fragile. This was not the time to tell Taryn that she'd been abandoned. He couldn't do that to her. He couldn't shatter the person she was finally comfortable being and make her start over. Maybe it wasn't so horrible to let the school believe it. As long as Taryn understood that that wasn't the truth.
It was a decision he still questioned himself about in the middle of the night. But as he'd tucked Taryn in that night, it seemed right.
"So we don't have to tell them?"
"No, Taryn. If you don't want to, you don't have to tell them." He brushed the hair from her face and pulled the covers up to her chin. "Just, no more secrets from me, okay?"
Taryn didn't reply.
A month later she was demanding her father take her to Jack's house without explanation.
"It's a surprise, Daddy."
He settled in the living room on a couch, while his daughter settled on a piano bench. Jack sat in a nearby chair. Taryn grinned mischievously at the both of them and then began to play. Vaughn's eyes widened as his daughter wasn't just plucking on keys, but actually playing, with her fingers arched in proper form. She wasn't looking at the keyboard, but reading music.
He managed to hold a smile through her performance then he discreetly pulled Jack aside into another room.
Vaughn shook his head, straining to sound calm. "She's had lessons."
Jack's expression remained stoic. "She likes piano. She wanted the lessons."
"She's seven years old. What she wanted isn't the point."
"Maybe it should be."
"No, the point is she isn't Sydney. No amount of piano lessons, or rides on carousels or trips to the beach are going to change that she is never going to be Sydney. Nor does it change the fact that you went behind my back to give her these lessons. And they're not going to continue." He turned and went back into the other room. "Taryn, it's time to go, now."
In hindsight, he realized that he'd overreacted. He'd refused to discuss the matter any further with Jack. It wasn't the piano lessons. Jack and Taryn had kept a secret. The last thing he'd needed was for his daughter to feel the need to hide things from him. His relationship with Taryn was strained enough without adding in any more secrets. Especially secrets about things that related to Sydney. He had no doubt Jack had encouraged Taryn's interest because it had been one of Sydney's interests. Taryn easily embraced things she knew her mother had liked. Jack could have simply taken advantage of that. But Vaughn didn't need Taryn idolizing Sydney. He hardly felt she was a proper role model.
Even though Jack insisted it wasn't about Sydney.
"Not allowing Taryn to continue piano lessons is punishing her for my decision," Jack insisted. "Taryn had an interest in piano before I told her that her mother used to play."
Taryn completely didn't understand why he didn't allow the piano lessons to continue.
"It's not fair!"
After a couple of days of her leaving rooms when he entered and slamming doors every time she exited a room, he realized he wasn't going to be able to just talk to her.
"Taryn, I'll be out back."
He knew she'd follow. She never passed up the opportunity to shoot with him. She was out the door and in the woods with him before he'd even fired a single shot. He acted as though he didn't notice at first. Then, when she got close enough he reloaded and gestured for her to come up beside him. He stood behind her holding her hands steady to keep the proper aim.
They exhausted half his supply of empty bottles in silence. But after a reset, when he moved beside Taryn again she simply stared into nowhere. She took a deep breath and sniffled.
"Taryn?"
The child blinked back tears. "I don't want you and Grandpa to fight anymore. I don't have to play piano if you don't want me to."
Vaughn watched her carefully. "You really like piano?"
Taryn looked up at him, searching his face. She finally nodded hesitantly. "Yes."
He sighed. "Okay."
Taryn's face lit up and she embraced him.
He'd called Jack the next day to ask if Taryn could still go there for piano lessons. There was barely an awkward silence before Jack had given him his trademark serious voice.
"Of course."
There was never any discussion about their previous disagreement.
That summer Lila and Taryn put on concerts for them with their respective instruments whenever they had the chance.
His friend Agent Craig visited for the first time in several years, shortly after Vaughn was relaxing into having an eight year old in school.
"So, what brings you by?" Vaughn inquired.
Craig smiled secretively. "Well, Mike, what would you think if i said I'm getting married?"
"You're not!"
"Actually, I am. We've set a date for this coming summer."
"Well, congrats. You're getting married, Craig. Never thought I'd see the day."
"So, you'll be there right? Maybe Taryn can even be in the wedding."
"I wouldn't miss it."
Vaughn had thought he'd remember Craig's wedding for how happy his best friend had looked. He thought he'd remember it for the sunny day in the park that it was. Or for the image of his daughter all dressed up as a flower girl.
Instead, all he could remember about that day was that it was the first time he saw Sydney in eight years. And he would give anything to go back in time and stop that from happening.
So, now he stood there, looking at her through the glass, with her watching him just as intently. He lifted the packet in his hand and looked her in the eye. "We need to talk."
___
A/N: I've been terrified I'm out of touch with this story, so please, please tell me what you think. It'd also be really helpful if you tell me what your favorite passages were.