Chapter 19: Fear

"Hell is other people." – Sartre


Once she was out in the hall, she marched right over to where Drs. Kerns and Ramsay were standing talking.

She pointed her finger widely at both of them and said, "He was opening up to me, he told me more than he's told anyone else about what happened to him last night and I want to tell you both that I'm completely against this whole thing and I'll be searching for other alternatives for his continued hospital care." She looked to Dr. Ramsay and got nose to nose with the short man. "If you hurt him, I'll hurt you…" With that, she took off down the hall to find her father.

Dr. Ramsay watched her walk away in a state of shock. He turned back to Dr. Kerns and said, "She's a fiery one, isn't she?" he chuckled to himself and went back to Vaughn's room.

Sydney found her father back in the waiting room getting something out of a vending machine. She ran up almost hysterically.

"Dad!"

Jack Bristow did something that Sydney never thought she would see in her entire lifetime, he jumped.

"Jesus Sydney! You startled me."

She held back a laugh, but remembered her intended purpose. "Dad, you have to find Dr. Barnett or contact someone at the Naval hospital. Dr. Kerns is insisting that Vaughn speak with this shrink colleague of his and he's a real asshole. To top it off, he won't let me stay in the room, and I know this isn't going to go well, but he won't listen to me. We have to get Vaughn moved."

"Ok Sydney, calm down. I'll contact Barnett and I'll call Kendall to see if he can work something out with the Naval hospital. Ok?"

She hugged her father who was surprised but hugged her back as well. "Thanks dad."

"Of course Sydney."

She walked off and before Jack turned to call Kendall, he watched his daughter walk away in amazement, the little girl that he had missed out on had turned into the best person he knew. He smiled sadly as he walked to the phones.

Sydney stationed herself outside of Vaughn's door, hoping that if there was a commotion, she would be able to hear it.

Vaughn sat in the bed, waiting Dr. Frankenstein's return, dreading every moment and desperately wishing Sydney were with him. He told himself to stop being such a baby, he had told Sydney that he could handle stuff without her, and now it was going to be put to the test. He felt ill already, and the doctor hadn't even come into the room yet. He couldn't get up and walk away, he couldn't leave the hospital, much less even the bed on his own power, he was totally helpless to his fate. All he could to was wait.

Trepidation filled him as the Dr. walked back into the room. Vaughn eyed him suspiciously as he took a seat too close for Vaughn's liking and opened a folder.

He smiled at Vaughn, but Vaughn didn't return the gesture.

"Now, Mr. Vaughn, Michael is it?" he looked up at Vaughn. Vaughn didn't respond.

"Ok…why don't you tell me some things about yourself." Vaughn didn't respond.

"Michael? Did you hear me?"

"Yes, I did."

"Ok, then, why don't I just ask you some questions instead." Vaughn didn't respond again, and found a very interesting spot on the wall that he could look at.

"You work for the CIA is that correct?"

Vaughn nodded.

"What do you do there?"

"Lots of things…"

"Could you be more specific?"

"No."

"Ok…what about Ms. Bristow, what is your relationship with her?"

At the sound of Sydney's name, Vaughn looked at the doctor, who seemed satisfied by his reaction.

"I don't think that's really any of your business," Vaughn said coldly.

"Well, it's obviously a big part of your life, any fool could see that…what is the nature of your relationship, how did you meet, how do you feel about her?"

"What is this the Newlywed game or something?"

"Mr. Vaughn, please."

"I'm not going to answer that, it's none of your business."

"Ok, let's move on then," the doctor looked down at the sheet in his hands, "When were you kidnapped?"

"A while ago."

"How long were you in the custody of your assailants?"

"I lost track of time."

"What did they do to you?"

"They tortured me."

"In what way?"

"Lots of ways."

"Such as?"

"Such as lots of shit, ok?"

"There is no need for profanity, Mr. Vaughn. What kinds of torture were you subjected to?"

"What do you want, a list?" Vaughn asked exasperatedly.

"That would be fine." The doctor got his pen ready to write down notes.

"Beatings, burnings, whippings, just about anything they could think of."

The doctor busily jotted things down, which immediately began driving Vaughn nuts.

"How did they go about this? What were their methods? Who were they exactly, if you know?"

"I know, but you don't need to, and they used a variety of methods."

"How did it make you feel?"

"How did it make me feel?" Vaughn asked as if he didn't hear the question correctly.

"Yes, how did it make you feel?"

"Like shit, it hurt, what do you think it felt like? Have you ever been tortured doctor?"

"No, but I can imagine it wasn't pleasant."

Vaughn snorted with laughter.

"Is something funny Mr. Vaughn?"

"Yeah, you are…did it hurt? What did it feel like? What the hell kinds of questions are those? You couldn't possibly know what it felt like, it's not like anything you can imagine."

"Well, why don't you elaborate then, and help me understand."

"I don't want to."

"Why not?"

"For one, I don't trust you, and two, I don't particularly want to help you understand, I don't want to think about it."

"If you don't talk about it, it will wind up eating you alive Mr. Vaughn."

"I'll talk about it, just not with you."

"With Ms. Bristow then? You'll talk to her?"

"I already have."

"And what happens when she doesn't want to hear any more Mr. Vaughn? What happens when she isn't here?"

Vaughn looked with hatred at the doctor.

"I'm only saying what is obvious Mr. Vaughn. What is your greatest fear, Mr. Vaughn? I doubt that it's being taken again; I'd guess it would have to do with Ms. Bristow. What happens if she doesn't want to talk about torture and nightmares and the like? What will you do then?"

Vaughn was silent.

"Does that scare you Mr. Vaughn?"

Vaughn looked away and said quietly, "yes."

"I'm sorry, what did you say Mr. Vaughn?"

"I said yes…"

"Let's go back to the torture. Perhaps you'll want to talk about it with me now…"

Vaughn was silent, but tears were starting to appear. The doctor paid them no attention.

"What did they do to you, describe a typical torture session."

It was a lot like this one, Vaughn thought. "Typical? I don't think there is anything typical about torture."

"Did they hit you with their fists?"

"Yes."

"Kick you?"

"Yes."

"Use instruments? You mentioned whips, did they use other things?"

Vaughn was losing his composure, "Y…Yes."

"What did they burn you with? Matches?"

"Yes."

"Cigarettes, cigars?"

Vaughn started to shake. "Yes," he said softly.

"Did they heat up objects and burn you with them?"

Vaughn nodded.

"Did they leave imprints of the objects?"

Vaughn nodded again.

"Did they interrogate you?"

Vaughn nodded.

"What did they interrogate you about? Your work?"

Vaughn shook his head no. His breathing was beginning to elevate and he could feel his skin getting hot. His palms were sweaty.

"What then? What did they talk to you about? Did they threaten you?"

Vaughn nodded.

"Threaten loved ones?"

Tears started falling as Vaughn nodded to that question.

"Threaten Sydney?"

Vaughn lost all composure at that remark.

"What did they say they were going to do to her? Hurt her?"

Vaughn nodded.

"What else?"

Vaughn was silent as he continued to cry. The doctor seemed oblivious, and pushed further.

"Mr. Vaughn? What else?"

Vaughn did not reply.

"Mr. Vaughn? Tell me what else they threatened. Did they threaten to rape her?"