Part 4: Aftershocks

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Whatever the hell had happened, it was very bad.

This was the conclusion Weiss had reached while eating the BLT he'd quickly put together, all thoughts of beer and pizza gone for the night.

Now that the immediate urgency of the situation had passed, he'd had a few minutes on his own to think back to the events of the last couple of hours.

And the same image kept reappearing before his eyes, as if burned on his retina: Sydney looking helpless and haggard, naked and crouching down in a near-fetal position.

The fragility it suggested had shaken him to the core.

Sydney Bristow was one of the strongest people he knew. He'd never seen her "lose it" first hand, though he knew from Mike that there were times when she did. From what he had gathered, the episode usually translated into a good cry and a lot of action-packed hours after that.

But never had he heard about her being so helpless, so close to the breaking point as when he had found her earlier.

It wasn't all that unexpected, though. The girl had lost everything over two years she didn't even remember. Still, if she hadn't been very happy, it had looked like she'd been coping relatively well under the circumstances.

No, something else must have happened. Something that triggered the collapse of the fragile equilibrium she'd reached since her return.

Something like being in North Korea with your ex-lover, facing a death squad…

They must have talked, thinking those were their last moments alive. Things one would never say under normal circumstances. Definitive stuff. The kind that you'd say to ease your conscience. And with his permanent guilt trip, Mike had plenty of that in reserve. Dammit, what the hell did he say to her? It wasn't enough that he'd ruined all her hopes? He wanted to ruin her spirits as well?

Weiss got up and cleaned the remnants of his meal. With angry movements, he put his plate and silverware in the dishwasher. When he was done, he went to his bedroom and exchanged his clothes for dark grey sweat pants, a black CIA training T-shirt and a jeans overshirt. In his bathroom, he ran through his nightly routine. All the while, he kept his thoughts firmly anchored in the present, not wanting to reconsider the accusations that had laced his questions.

It was only when he was ready to head back to Sydney's apartment that he finally admitted to himself he was being both unreasonable and unfair to Vaughn. Even if something had happened, and he was sure it did, Weiss could hardly judge either of his friends by their reactions. Not when they'd thought they were facing imminent death.

Over the past few months, Weiss had carefully considered their predicament and he'd come to one conclusion: it was a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. Whatever Vaughn's decision turned out to be -whether to leave Lauren or stay with her - both he and Syd would end up hating the results… Sydney was right: the original mistake had been Mike's acceptance of her death and his subsequent decision to move on with his life. Yet, one could hardly hold him accountable for trying to make something good out of a terrible tragedy.

As things stood, Weiss couldn't see an end to this demented situation… Time didn't always heal wounds. Vaughn and Sydney's feelings for each other had run too deep to simply give way to the voice of reason. Eventually, their close proximity at work would force them to make a decision about their future, one way or another.

Was that what happened? If it was, the answer wasn't to Syd's satisfaction, that much was clear. She was hurting so bad he didn't feel comfortable leaving her alone for too long.

As he closed his door and crossed the hall, Weiss decided he wouldn't let her out of his sight until he had an answer to what was disturbing her. As his friend, Sydney deserved no less. And no matter how much this might look like meddling, there was just no way he could sit back and watch this car wreck unfold. Losing her once had already been too painful for a lifetime. Losing her twice, when he had the power to do something to prevent it… No way he could allow that.

Not on his watch.

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When he got back into the bedroom, Sydney was still asleep. Her slumber, however, was far from restful. She was moving her head back and forth, as if in the throes of a bad dream.

Weiss took a chair and placed it next to the bed. Gently, he put her right hand in his. It felt much warmer at last. With his voice, he tried to soothe her back to a more peaceful state. "Hey Syd. Shhh, it's ok, you're safe. You're safe. It's only a dream…"

Moments later, she calmed down a little. Weiss took the opportunity to scan the room for whatever could make his chair more comfortable for the night.

He got up and gathered a few pillows. In the living room, he found a throw on the sofa. He took it to the bedroom and draped the chair with it, making a cozy little alcove where he could spend the long hours to come in relative comfort.

He sat back down, satisfied that he'd be able to put in a few winks. When he was settled, he took Sydney's hand back in his. Absentmindedly, he stared at the slight fingers and started stroking their deceiving softness with his thumb. A few blue veins raised her skin in places, blood gently pulsating through…

So fragile behind her formidable armor, he reflected…

He blinked a few times and let out a low, prolonged sigh of relief as his mind concentrated on the tangible proof that Sydney Bristow would live another day.

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tbc

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Next time, in Part 5: The Bewitching Hour

"Hey, you ok?"

"Yeah." She sighed. "Just… empty…" She lowered her eyes to hide the fresh tears that were pooling there. She didn't want to ask him for more help when he'd already gone above and beyond the call of friendship. But she wasn't sure she could manage on her own right now…

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