YAY I'm back! And as I promised I am updating both fics and posting a new one as well!


Love Heals when you feel so small, like a grain of sand. Like nothing at all.- Jonathan

Larson.

Maybe there's a God above and all I ever learned from love was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you.- Rufus Wainwright.

Sydney didn't want to wake up. She was having a rather nice dream but the sunlight hitting her face and her internal clock ringing were pulling her farther and farther from the happy haven of dreams. Trying vainly to remain asleep she flipped over and buried her face in the pillows.

These pillows smell like Vaughn.

The thought had barely penetrated her subconscious before dozens of alarm bells went off in her head.

These pillows can't smell like Vaughn. Vaughn's dead. These aren't even my pillows.

Her eyes snapped open, registering briefly that she was in a completely foreign room. Her arm swung out, frightened when it came in contact with nothing but air. There was no sleeping warmth of a child, only her. Sydney pulled herself out of the strange bed, searching frantically for her daughter. She swung back floor length shades to reveal a balcony extending from the room. It was emptying and the door was locked, assuring Sydney that Isabelle had not wandered out there. Swinging open more doors she discovered a large closet, a bathroom and a hallway, but still no brown haired, green eyed little girl. Trying to calm down, Sydney made her way out of the room and down the hallway, using her old spy techniques to remain silent. She crept down the hallway, listening to faint noises that appeared to be coming from up ahead. The hallway emptied out into a bright den with an attached kitchen, modern and sleek. In the kitchen was one of the oddest scenes Sydney had ever witnessed. Her mother and father were sitting side by side at the kitchen island drinking coffee and smiling as if she was still Laura Bristow and Sydney was still a little girl. They were both gazing at Isabelle adoringly, much as they had gazed at Sydney before Laura Bristow disappeared and left Sydney with a father hardened to his little girl's dimples. But the thing that completed the odd sight was the man sitting next to Isabelle, with his all too familiar back facing her. It couldn't be. He was dead. Sydney had learned to accept that many years ago and all though it still hurt it was the truth. Michael Vaughn was dead.

"Mommy!"

Isabelle saw her and turned around, causing the other three pairs of eyes to flash at her. Two pairs of brown and two pairs of similar green. That green. Maybe he's not so dead after all. Sydney welcomed the cool black of unconsciousness as it slipped over her.

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"Mommy?"

Isabelle was calling to her, trying to wake her up. Maybe it was just a dream. A horrible twisted dream. When she woke up she was going to be lying in her bed and it was going to be morning. Isabelle was going to be in the bed next to her trying to wake her up. When she opened her eyes that's what she was going to see. The white of her ceiling, not the green of his eyes. It was just a horrible dream she had. She had had them before where her heart had soared that he was alive again, only to be bitterly disappointed upon waking. This time she wasn't going to be fooled. When she woke up this time she would be expecting the white of her ceiling, nothing more, and nothing less. And slowly she opened her eyes.

Damnit.

He was still there. Was she still trapped in this dream? And then she felt the strength of his arms around her and realized. This wasn't a dream.

She exploded away from him, backing up until she hit a wall, barely noticing her mother or father or daughter standing around him.

"You're dead."

"Sydney…"

"You're dead."

"He's not dead Mommy! He was just sick and couldn't be with us. But now Daddy's here for good."

Kids say the dardnest things. But Isabelle was firm with her beliefs as she talked to her mother, explaining the miracle before her eyes; the miracle both of them had wanted so badly. And yet Sydney wasn't so believing, she had been hardened by the world, retaining little of the child like innocence her daughter embodied.

"How?"

And for the first time for five years, her father looked her straight in the eyes and told her the truth.

"It was me. I drugged his drink to make it appeared that he flat lined. Then I had him transferred here to be cared for by your mother. We have been working to eliminate Prophet Five. I did it to protect you and Isabelle. They were after you."

"You lied to me for six years? You let my cry myself to sleep, you let me feel that pain, you let Isabelle feel that pain? How could you Dad? How could you lie to me, how could you hurt me like that again. How could you hurt Isabelle like that?"

She ran. She always ran. She couldn't stay in that room anymore with those eyes. Those green piercing eyes staring at her, asking for forgiveness, asking for a relationship, asking for her heart back, could she really do it again after six years? Sydney had no place to go but back to the room she woke up in. Flinging upon the doors to the balcony, she felt a cool breeze sweep over her as she gazed out at the wooded area surrounding the house. No had followed her. Her mother probably stopped them. They were so much alike; each needed their own space to sort things out, to brood. He probably wanted to follow her. He always thought he could make it better with a hug and a kiss. Or sometimes much more than a kiss. He was right. Being in his arms always helped her. But now. Things were so different. It had been six years. But then again. Even after those two years, those two horrible years, hugging him, holding him close, had made her feel so right. Surely these six years could be the same as those missing two years, minus him marry some psycho blonde devil. After all at least a part of him had been with him these past years. His spirit was very much alive in Isabelle. And Isabelle did seem to accept and like him. They could be a normal family, couldn't they? Or was it in their genes to be abnormal, to always have to glance over their shoulders, never positive that they were truly safe.

Sydney sensed the other person before she heard the wood of the deck creak. She turned around knowing full well who was behind her and what they wanted.

"Sydney…"


Ahhh. That was a lot of fun that chapter!