So as me and my brain currently argued over sleep, (it's midnight right now in new york and I haven't sleeped in 52 hrs, I decided, a nice little present for all me readers is that when you first go on the you'll get an update. Weeeee!
A/N: This chapter contains a semi graphic wrist cutting scene. It's not insanely graphic but I just want to make sure if anyone is the least bit uncomfortable with the topic to please skip over it. I am giving you fair warning! So if you are at all squeamish about certain things I suggest you stop reading when you get to it (I'll bold the firsts line from here it starts) and head to the next chapter. It will contain a nice summary of what you missed, told from a less graphic point of view.
Chapter Two: Let's Compare Scars
Sydney sat in the bathroom, carefully examining the bruises. Out of habit she took out some foundation to cover them. As she applied the makeup, she realized that there was no one to hide the bruises from. Everyone in her life now would know where she got the bruises. There were no longer any friends to hide her secret from. She tried to hold back the sobs, but they came anyway racking through her body as she cried for her lost friends. Since she had been back, it felt like all she did was cry. For the past few weeks nothing had affect her the way it normally had, every thing had set of an emotional hurricane inside of her. Learning how to compartmentalize had been one of her greatest accomplishments but now Syd feared she loss this skill forever. It didn't help that her and Vaughn had momentarily slipped into old habits. His touch, his kiss. They had sent fire through her, and for one joyous moment she was happy. But then it was gone, and immediately she had felt tears coming on. And then tonight it had happened again. He had held her in his arms and she was on fire, she was happy, but not anymore. Now she was cold and all she wanted was to stop the turmoil of motions running through her. Troubled, Syd changed and headed to the kitchen to have something to eat.
When she entered, Weiss and Vaughn were in deep conversation. Syd took advantage of the opportunity to quietly sneak in and out. Her movement, however, caught Vaughn's eye and he looked up.
"Are you okay?" He asked, yet again.
She wanted to yell at him again, maybe she would feel better. She wanted to tell him that she wasn't okay, that he should be with him, and that she only felt when he was touching her. She wanted to make him seen what he was doing to her, what she was doing to herself, but the words caught in her throat.
"I'm fine."
"We sent the papers to Marshall. We were just about to come and get you. Dixon's calling back in about two minutes with the results." Vaughn replied.
"Okay."
"You want anything to eat Syd?" Weiss asked, getting up and heading to the fridge.
"No." Her appetite had left her. She slid into a chair at the kitchen island, opposite from Vaughn.
"You sure? We have all kinds of soup and soup and oh, some beer."
"Beer isn't really a meal Eric." She replied.
"You obviously did not live out the college experience to the fullest if you truly believe that." Weiss said as he slid into the chair next to her and pushed a beer across to Vaughn.
"Oh and I'm sure being constantly drunk is the best college experience ever?" She liked talking with Weiss. He provided a much needed relief from the tension in the room.
"You bet it is."
The phone rang effectively putting an end to the conversation. Vaughn hit the conference button as Dixon's voice boomed.
"Good work, guys. Marshall's confirmed the contents of the paper."
"What does it show?" Syd asked, curious.
"It's an encrypted legal document. It states the union of two operations and names Juli Troch as the head. Here is where it gets even more interesting. The documents outline that all work that needs to be dealt with outside the operations bounds are contracted to the one and only Sark."
"What are they dealing in?" Vaughn questioned his brow furrowing.
"Right now it looks like solely information. But the documents also contain several coordinates that correspond with arms factory."
"Troch knows we have this information. Do you think he'll try to do something?" Syd asked
"Right now we are just going to keep an eye on these guys. The documents weren't very incriminating but it's possible he might try something. He didn't know you guys were CIA, right?"
"No he was too busy throttling me to get any information about who I worked for." Syd replied, feeling Vaughn's eyes on the back of her head.
"Okay. We'll send some decoy messages over the internet that it was a low level criminal group responsible. That should keep them unaware that the CIA has this information."
"So pretty much this group is just a bunch of talkers?" Weiss asked
"Their association with Sark could mean danger but as we speak, Langley is sending in operatives to infiltrate the organization. We'll be informed if any changes appear and more than likely, the case will be bounced back to us. But you guys can come home for now. Have a safe trip."
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Sydney was glad to be home. She threw her bag on the couch and went to the fridge to grab a bottle of wine, her fifth his week. As she poured herself a glass, her mind kept on flashing back to the rather disastrous plane flight. Weiss had made the mistake of leaving her and Vaughn alone for an hour. It was torture, sixty minutes of green eyed torture. By the end of the third minute her mind and body was screaming for alcohol to drown out his wrinkling brow.
If only Francie could see her know. Syd knew she would be in AA and Francie would have castrated Vaughn by now. But there was no Francie, just Sydney and her wineglass. No friend was going to appear to laugh about how they were going to be crazy old ladies together.
After the third glass, Sydney ditched the glass and carried the bottle into the living room. Lifting an imaginary toast to Vaughn, she gulped down more of the wind and flipped on the TV, the beginnings of a headache forming. She drank a little more to curb the ache, and was slightly disappointed to find the bottle almost empty. A little more never hurt she thought as she returned to the kitchen.
When three hours and two more bottles had pass, Sydney realized that the alcohol wouldn't be enough to dull her emotions this time. Her next option wasn't nearly as pretty as alcohol, but it had been more than effective every other time she tried it; it made her forget her feelings and focus on only one, pain. She ditched her wine and went to the bathroom, turning off her cell and unplugging the phone on her way. She didn't want any interruptions. Syd began to run the water in the tub, leaving the drain open. The back of her mind, the logical part, began to worry. She was too drunk, she had never done this before this wasted. But her heart overruled as it throbbed with emotion.
Pushing up her sleeves, she traced the scars from her previous excursions. No one had noticed the scars at work, no one cared to notice. They were all too worried about her emotional scars, much more than any physical scars she might carry around. But even with the emotional scars, they didn't care enough to really know what was happening. Sometimes she wondered if Vaughn did care, but Lauren stopped him from caring too much.
It didn't really matter, she thought. It was too late for any concern. She picked up the razor that she had grown so accustomed too.
(A/N: Last chance. It's not too graphic but I don't want to risk anyone getting offended.)
The pain was sharp, defiant, and distracting. It took her away from the other pain she was feeling and it made her focus on the fire that was spreading up her arm slowly. Her blood made pretty patterns as it mixed with the running water against the white porcelain. The drops made starburst before they were swept away by the running water, giving the tub a bizarre candy cane appearance. Without second thought Syd slashed the other wrist, marveling at the contrast between the deep red of her blood and the pale bronze of her skin.
She felt deliciously light headed before she realized something was wrong. Her right wrist's blood flow has slowed like usual, but the left wrist was bleeding more profusely then it ever had. Scared, Sydney tried to stop the flow and made the mistake of standing up momentarily. She collapsed as the blood started to flow across her body and on to the bathroom floor. She could see right to the front door from where she was lying and she considered crawling to the door and attempting to set off her alarm. Her world started to fade to black as she made it across the threshold of the bathroom. Her breathing was shallower as she realized her efforts were useless, and struggling to stay conscious she realized that her front door was opening.
There were no loud squeals of her alarm, and she silently cursed herself for forgetting to set the alarm as she slipped into unconsciousness. Her last thought was a pray that the intruder was kind enough to call 911 before he stole whatever he wanted.
Reviews are welcomed. if you skipped over the last part, and you want to send a pm for a little non graphic info on what happened, I'll tell you if you don't want to wait until next chapter. Also people, feel free to check out my other current fic, Love Heals...