These next several chapters contain graphic images of Vaughn's torture. If you don't with to read about those topics, I would suggest not reading these next chapters.


Chapter 169: Coming To Terms

"Life is like and ever-shifting kaleidoscope - a slight change, and all patterns alter." – Sharon Salzberg

"Everything that I understand, I understand only because I love." – Leo Tolstoy

"Much learning does not teach understanding." – Heraclitus

"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be." – Douglas Adams


Vaughn was quiet for a long time. He looked off, deep in thought, the stress ball gently being flexed in his right hand. The only movements from him were shallow breathing and pensive blinking. Barnett stayed quiet, finishing a few notes as she let him wrap his mind over what he had just told her.

"I don't think I really…she…she saved me…I mean I knew that…but I didn't remember…maybe because I didn't want to. I just don't get her at all…why? Why would she save me? Tell me to hang on?"

He shook his head, "I really don't remember anything after that…I mean, I know Sydney saved me then…but I only have like random flashes, and for all I know, that could have been dreams…but there was nothing…NOTHING better than waking up and seeing Sydney's face…" Vaughn smiled sadly, and took a sideways glance at Barnett.

"Thank you for sharing that with me Michael…" Barnett said.

She was silent a moment, not expecting a response from him. She began quietly, her voice calm and even, "With all that you feel and think as a result of this ordeal, what seems to be the biggest problem you have to overcome?"

Vaughn thought a long while. He sighed and then responded, "I feel…like a burden…"

Barnett regarded him a moment, then asked, "You feel you have an oppressing attitude a lot? Did this feeling start before or after my mind game?"

"Before…"

"And you still feel this way?"

"Sometimes, yeah…"

"Tell me why."

"Well…because I can't do anything. I don't do anything around the house, everyone caters to me, they eat their meals where I do, they watch movies that are 'appropriate,' watch what they say…" he paused, "I do nothing here, yet reap the benefits and I feel guilty…and there's this lingering thought that creeps in sometimes that maybe they just are too nice to tell me that I'm really a burden, that they hate doing all this stuff…"

"I know I led you to believe that Sydney and everyone else was just sparing your feelings, but could you honestly believe that she'd lie to you like that? That she wouldn't tell you if you were a burden on her, on them? She's spent most of her life living in lies and betrayal, wanting nothing more than to tell her loved ones the absolute truth. You think she would want to go back to living like that? You saw the toll all that lying took on her; don't you think you'd be able to see through her lies by now? You shouldn't feel guilty for letting people take care of you; everyone needs it sometimes. Sydney needed it; even Will needed it, and you were there for both of them. It seems that now is your time."

"It wasn't just you suggesting – I thought that before…and yeah, Sydney tells me that too – that it's my turn, that it's her turn to take care of me…but that doesn't make me feel any less guilty." He stopped and then added suddenly, "Maybe I've just never needed anyone the way I need Sydney…"

"I know…Guilt is always the hardest emotion to control. You just have to remind yourself that they wouldn't be helping you if they didn't really want to…"

"I've always been in control before…I've never really been powerless, not to this level."

"That always a scary feeling too. Having power taken away from you…I have two assignments I want you to do after today's session. First, I want you to do one thing today, one thing that puts you in charge. Anything where you can feel like you have complete control of the situation. From how it starts to how it ends…The second assignment is an on-going one. I want you to keep a record, a journal, of your thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. Pick a certain time each day and write down everything you felt during the entire day. If you felt particularly strong about one thing, I would like you to write down why you felt like that; who you were with, what part they played in it, if any. You don't have to bring your journal to our sessions, but you can if you'd like. If you have any questions or problems or worries over certain emotions you feel and their reasons, then by all means I'd like to discuss them with you. Okay?"

Vaughn nodded, "I'm gonna have to type it though…my fingers aren't exactly–"

"That's fine Michael…" Barnett smiled at him, "Now, would you like to go to the Pier?"

"YES!"

Barnett laughed, "Alright, close your eyes Michael…"

Vaughn complied as her words started to wash over him, telling him to breathe in the good and out the bad…concentrate on the rise and fall of his chest…concentrate on his heartbeat…He was there, imagining the Pier in no time…

Barnett let him relax a while before gently touching his arm, pulling him out, "Good Michael. You've taken to that really well…"

He smiled at her.

"I want you to practice getting to The Pier without my help. You can either do this by yourself, or Sydney can help you by breathing with you, or walking you through it like I do. If Sydney helps, I'd like you, in the future, to be able to get there without any help…ok?"

"Ok," Vaughn said quietly.

"Our time is up for today. I will see you Friday then. Don't forget what I asked you to do after the session. Have a good day, Michael."

"Bye Dr. Barnett…"

Barnett smiled and walked out of the bedroom, smiling and saying goodbye to Sydney on her way out.

Sydney practically ran into the room. "Vaughn?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Hey," he said quietly.

She smiled at him and sat on the bed, "You ok? That was a really long session…"

"Really?"

"Yeah, it was a little over two hours…"

"Wow, it didn't seem that long…"

Sydney smiled at him. He looked strangely calm for a man who had just spent two hours in therapy…

"What did you talk about?" she asked.

He took a deep breath, "Well…everything…"

"What do you mean?"

"Barnett asked me to tell her what happened…"

"What happened? You mean…"

"Yeah," he said nodding.

"Well, that explains why it took longer…" she smiled and ran her hand over his cheek, "And you're ok?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I am…"

"Aww baby, that's great," she said, leaning down to kiss him.

"Yeah…well…The Pier helped. We did that at the end…"

Sydney smiled, "Good…"

"Yeah…you know what?" he asked excitedly.

She smiled down as the little boy in him bubbled out, "What honey?"

"You can go to The Pier with me! Or at least, help me get there…" he said bashfully, looking away from her.

She lifted his chin to look at her, "I'd love to…how do I do this?"

"Pretty much…well pretty much you just talk me there…or…I'm pretty sure I can get there if I just listen to your heartbeat," he thought out loud, as he looked at her pensively.

The love on her face when he looked up at her was staggering, it was written in droves all over, pouring off of her. He smiled at her, his face lighting up even more.

She leaned down again and captured his lips in a sweet and adoring kiss. When they parted, she rested her forehead on his and asked, "You sure you're ok? Nothing you want to talk about?"

"I'm good right now…" he assured her.

She nodded, "Ok…"

"Sydney," he said seriously.

She looked over at him, at his change of tone, "What?"

"I want to tell you…I want you to know…I mean if you want to know…but…I think it…it would be harder to tell you…"

"Why?"

"Because you love me…"

"Yeah, you have that part right…and it's ok Vaughn, you don't have to tell me if you're not ready…"

"I have to start a journal…"

"You do?"

"Yeah…that's one of my homeworks…I have to keep a journal…" he paused, "I'll write it…then you can read it…ok?"

She smiled, "Only if you want me to…"

"I do…if you want to know everything…"

"I want to know Vaughn…no matter how much it kills me to know what they did to you…I want to know."

He nodded.

"You hungry?"

"Yeah…"

"Ok…I'll start dinner…k?"

"Yeah, great…"

She leaned and gave him a quick kiss and then started to walk out of the room.

"Syd?" he called when she was just outside the door.

"Yeah?" she responded, poking her head back into the room.

"Can you bring the laptop in here?"

She looked at him confused for a moment, but said, "Sure."

She brought it in several minutes later, setting it on his lap, "There…"

"Thanks."

"Sure…" she waited for an explanation.

He finally looked up at her, her eyes questioning him, "Oh…I can't write the journal really…like physically…so I'm going to type it…"

"Ok…" she said, smiling and leaving him to his work.

Vaughn booted the computer and spent a long time just starting at the white Word screen, the little cursor blinking in a steady, mesmerizing rhythm. He was at a loss for how to begin this journal…how does one exactly begin a journal of feelings about torture? It seemed silly and lame to start it with 'dear diary' or something like that, and he chuckled when he recalled the amount of shit he had given his father over keeping a journal. 'I suppose I could address it to myself,' he thought, but didn't like that idea either. He thought again for a while before typing, 'Sydney,' He smiled, thinking it a little strange, but, he was writing it so she could understand, so why not address it to her. He decided that was the route to take.

'Well…there,' he thought, 'I started it…now back to square one…'

Sydney walked in suddenly, starling him slightly. "Sorry baby," she said, noticing his small jump.

"No, it's ok…just wasn't expecting you…"

"So…how did the writing go?" she asked as she closed the laptop and moved it to the chair.

He smiled at her; she hadn't even attempted to look at the screen, giving him all the space he needed, "Well, it really didn't…I got stuck on how to address the damn thing…"

She giggled and set the tray on his lap, "So did you figure it out?"

"Yeah, that part I did…but I didn't write anything yet."

"Well, that's ok…don't rush it, just take your time."

He smiled as he looked over at her, regarding this woman who was so patient with him, so loving, so forgiving.

They ate in a pleasant silence, sharing looks, touches, smiles; laughing and feeding each other…

"I'm gonna clean up, ok?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna try to get some of this out…"

"Ok, sweetie…" she said, setting the laptop back on his lap and kissing his forehead before leaving the room.

He stared at the previously started, 'Sydney,' followed by the damn cursor again…now what…

Finally, he just started typing, whatever came to mind.

"Sydney, I don't really know where to start and I'm not sure that you really want to know all of this. I told you before that it would be easier for me to write this, because I don't think I could say it to you. I couldn't see the hurt and pain in your eyes while I told you. But, I don't want there to be any secrets between us either, so if you want to know, this is where you can find out."

He stopped, rereading that sentence, 'that's pretty good…' he thought.

He went back to typing, "I was completely honest with Barnett when I told her about it; I told her everything, so I think it's only fair I do the same here. So, I'll tell you everything. You should know a few things. First, you were my reason for living, for hanging on, for enduring it all. When it got bad, and all I wanted to do was…well…die…I thought about you, and then I knew I couldn't. I had to keep going. I lived for you. If the pain got really bad, I'd see your face, and it would go away. When they took everything else from me including a large part of my sanity, I knew they didn't have you. I knew you were safe, and then I was ok. I'm not proud of everything that happened, my reactions to what they did to me, and there was a time near the end, when I totally lost all hope, and that, for me, was the worst moment of it all, because I started to believe what they were saying. I'm not making excuses, I just want you to understand that when you read some of this, no matter what I might say, deep down, I knew the truth. I knew you loved me; I knew it wasn't true."

He paused and took a deep breath before starting again, "I guess I should start at the beginning…"

Vaughn typed intently, his brow furrowed in concentration as he thought and remembered once again. Sydney peeked in on him, but he was so engrossed in what he was doing, he didn't even notice she was there. She smiled and left him be, knowing he needed space to get it out.

When he stopped again, he'd gotten scarcely past the first day of torture, and he had already typed three pages, 12-point font, single-spaced. He sighed; this was going to take forever.

He thought a moment, recalling the morning of day two…Sark…he suddenly got very angry thinking about what Sark had said to him. How he taunted him about Sydney, how he made him believe it for a while…even though he knew it wasn't true.

He saved the journal and laid his head back for a minute, his chest becoming heavy realizing all that he'd been through. It wasn't that he felt sorry for himself, it was more that it all just fell on him again, things he'd forgotten, things he'd purposely forgotten…and Sydney…what he could have lost…

Sydney walked past the door, looking in at him. He was lying with his head back, 'probably taking a break,' she thought. She smiled and came in the room, "Hey…taking a breather?" she asked as she moved towards the bed.

When her eyes caught his, she could see pain, fear, memories reflected in his deep green orbs.

"Honey?" she asked, sitting down.

He attempted a smile for her, but she could see it was pained.

"Vaughn," she said, reaching out her hand and caressing his cheek.

He shook his head, and pressed his eyes closed. She felt the tears on her hand before she saw them…