Chapter 182: Seeking Equilibrium
"The pith of conversation does not consist in exhibiting your own superior knowledge on matters of small consequence, but in enlarging, improving and correcting the information you possess by the authority of others." – Sir Walter Scott.
"Healing may not be so much about getting better, as about letting go of everything that isn't you – all of the expectations, all of the beliefs – and becoming who you are." – Rachel Naomi Remen
"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by each experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, "I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along." – Eleanor Roosevelt
"Come to the edge He said. They said: We are afraid. Come to the edge He said. They came. He pushed them, and they flew..." – Guillaume Apollinaire
"We cannot be happy if we expect to live all the time at the highest peak of intensity. Happiness is not a matter of intensity, but of balance and order and rhythm and harmony." – Thomas Merton
Sydney spent the next few hours just relaxing and being Vaughn's solace. She watched his body language and his facial expressions closely as he slept, just in case he started to have a nightmare.
She found herself lost in thought…about the man in her arms, about what he'd been through, what they'd been through…
She looked down again; this same man, lost and confused, heartbroken and full of guilt, this gentle lover of hers had turned into something different last night. He was still Vaughn, and she loved him no matter what, but analyzing her own reaction was perplexing.
She'd taken down men twice (or more) her size, reduced them to lifeless heaps on the floor, she could have easily stopped Vaughn, and probably even easier since he was not in peak form. What he did was unintentional, but it scared her…What if she wouldn't have stopped him? How far would she have let it go? What if he wouldn't have stopped?
She scolded herself for thinking those things, but the fear was what brought them to the surface. It was strange how much love got away with…how much she was willing to do for him, and he for her. This unconditional love was a rare quality, now she just had to work on convincing him that her love was not wavered by his one unintentional act…
She turned and looked at the clock, it was almost 1:30PM. She gave him a few more minutes and then ran her hand through his hair while gently rubbing his chest, "Vaughn…"
She smiled when that didn't pull him out of his sleep. "Vaughn…" she said again, a little louder, "You have to wake up baby…"
He stirred slightly and yawned, and then snuggled back in her arms, nudging his head closer to her.
She chuckled, "No honey…you have to wake UP…not go back to sleep."
He groaned slightly, as though the words sunk in but he didn't want to hear them.
"You can't be asleep when Barnett gets here…" she said with a soft smile.
"Mmm…" was the response she garnered with her statement. "Still tired…" he mumbled.
"You can take another nap after she leaves. You should start waking up now though."
He mumbled again and hummed quietly as Sydney ran her hand though the short, soft strands of his hair.
"Ya know…" he said a few minutes later, "If you keep doing that…I'm not gonna wake up…"
Sydney chuckled and settled for just resting her hand on the back of his head, "Ok…then I'll have to stop."
"Mmm I didn't say that…"
"Come on, she'll be here in just a little while…" she slowly started to move him off of her, a frustrated sigh leaving his chest as Sydney settled him on the bed again. He did still look tired.
She got off the bed; "You want anything before she gets here?"
He yawned, "Can I have something to drink?"
"Sure, I'll get your pills too…you want a snack?"
"No, just something to drink."
"Ok," Sydney replied, walking off and returning with a glass of juice. "Here," she said holding the pills out and then the drink.
He took the pills and kept the glass; Sydney sat down on the bed again.
"See…I told you…no nightmares right?"
Vaughn smiled, "No nightmares…thank you."
"You're welcome."
Ding dong
Sydney looked over at Vaughn, "See – I told you, you had to wake up."
Vaughn grinned slightly and handed Sydney the glass of juice as she got off the bed again. They exchanged a glance, neither knowing what else to say. She leaned and kissed him and then walked slowly to the door. She opened it and stepped aside, knowing full well who was on the other side.
"Hello Sydney."
"Hi Dr. Barnett…usual spot…" she said quickly, not allowing Barnett to say anything else.
She smiled and nodded and walked off to the bedroom.
"Hello Michael."
"Hi," Vaughn responded quietly, watching as she closed the door and sat down in the chair beside the bed.
"How did the journal writing go?" she asked with a curious smile.
"It went well," he replied stagnantly.
"Just 'well'? Did you have any troubles getting things started?" Barnett asked.
"I wanted to write what happened to me so Sydney would know, so I just started from the beginning like we did in the session…it was hard in the beginning…it was harder to write it down than it was to verbalize it for some reason…maybe it's because I know Sydney will read it," he said looking at her.
"It's one thing for me to know, it's quite another for someone you live with to hear it. They're going to be around you constantly and it's a scary feeling to put yourself out there like that."
"Yeah...can we talk about something else?" Vaughn asked, his brow furrowing.
"Of course. What's wrong Michael?" Barnett asked concerned.
"I did something last night and I need to know why."
"Okay. What did you do?"
"I had a nightmare and Sydney was helping me like she usually does – we were making love and I kept hearing all the voices from my dream in my head the whole time. I couldn't make them go away...and I got rough with Sydney," he stopped and then continued, "I didn't stop until she made me look at her and then I realized what I was doing – it was like I was on autopilot."
"I see. You just kind of went to a different place instead of being in the moment?"
"I guess, I don't know...no matter what I did – I couldn't make the voices go away."
"What made you go to that place?" Barnett asked.
"I guess the nightmare did – those were the voices I kept hearing – the same ones from my dream."
"Whose voices were they? What were they saying?"
"Sloane and Sark mainly – just things they'd said while they were torturing me. There were things though that they didn't say...things only I would know and Sydney was the last voice."
"And you couldn't snap yourself out of it?"
"No I tried to, but it didn't work – I'd just hear more words and after while, I don't think I was even thinking about Sydney anymore…that's never happened before," he said with a shudder.
"How did you try?"
"I tried to reason with what they were saying, telling myself that it wasn't true, and I tried to just push the thoughts out."
"Did you try going to The Pier?"
"Not then, I did later."
"Is there a reason you didn't go to The Pier? "
Vaughn thought a minute, "I guess I didn't think of it then."
"Okay. We'll work more on getting to The Pier quickly later. So if something like this happens again, you'll be able to handle it better."
"It scared the shit out of both of us, and I never want to see the look Sydney gave me again – but I see it all the time now – this morning...it's there. She tries to be strong, and tell me it's not my fault, but I think she's afraid of me now...I don't want it to ever happen again and I don't really understand why it did now. Is it my fault?" Vaughn asked, his face full of regret and pain.
"Unfortunately, things have to get worse before they get better, Michael. Torture doesn't just affect you when it's convenient, there will be times when you're doing something that used to be safe and comforting and thoughts will creep in. The harder you try to stop them, the worse it's going to be. I understand you're scared, and I don't doubt that it shook Sydney up as well. But Michael, it's not your fault. Consciously, you would never have done that. Subconsciously you weren't even there. Even Sydney knows it wasn't your fault. It only seems that way because you were there physically. Has Sydney given you any indication that she's afraid of you now?"
"Well no – I mean she doesn't like bolt away from me or flinch or anything, but I'm good at reading Sydney, and she doesn't have to say that she is for me to know it. It's all there...It's affected her more than she'll tell me. She won't say anything to me because she doesn't want to make me feel worse – but her bottling it won't make it any better. I just wish she'd yell at me or something."
"I don't think she's afraid of you. What happened scared her, yes, but if she were afraid of you then she wouldn't be around you. When she's ready to talk about it, she'll tell you. She needs to make more sense of it, like you're doing, before she can confront it all. Yelling at you wouldn't make a difference. She's not angry; she's just confused. I'll even bet that a part of her feels like it's her fault."
"Her fault? Why?"
