In The Air Tonight, Part 8
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Michael Vaughn jumped like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar when the door to his room suddenly swung open. He quickly shoved the card back into his front shirt pocket and looked up to see it was only the duty nurse walking in carrying a clipboard. Standing before him, she looked down at her clipboard saying, "Okay, Mr….Vaughn… yes?" She looked up at him questioningly.
"Yes," he replied. "Michael Vaughn."
Nodding professionally, as if it were every day she stood having conversations with people spattered in blood (which it probably was, Vaughn mused), she continued, "Right. Mr. Vaughn. I just need to get some information from you and then we can get you cleaned up for the doctor, okay?"
"Okay," Vaughn agreed and proceeded to answer the nurse's questions. After a few moments, Vaughn interrupted, "Excuse me, but do you have any news about Sydney Bristow?"
"Bristow?" the nurse repeated. "Oh, you mean the woman that came in the ambulance with you? No, I'm sorry; I haven't heard anything yet. All I know is that she went right into surgery."
Vaughn nodded and fell into anxious silence. The nurse told him sympathetically, "I'll be right back. I'm going to bring in an orderly and we can help get you out of those clothes and get you cleaned up."
After a moment, she returned with a young orderly, who was carrying a dressing gown and a set of scrubs. Between the three of them they were easily able to shed Vaughn's coat and shirt. The nurse simply cut the remainder of Vaughn's pant seams all the way up to the waist on both sides and carefully peeled away the top, taking care to not let the fabric stick in any of Vaughn's wounds. She slid the bottom portion of the pants out from under him and then placed both pieces into a large plastic bag along with his shirt, jacket, and shoes.
"Wait, where are you going with those?" he asked the nurse, now sitting on the table in his underwear and socks, his voice tinged with panic. He didn't want to lose that card from Jake Rambaldi. He had a feeling it was very, very important he not lose it.
"Nowhere," she responded with a polite smile. "I'm just going to put them over here." She deposited the bag on a plastic chair across the room. Then she gathered up a cotton cloth and a plastic bowl. Filling the bowl with warm water out of the tap, she set them aside and changed her latex gloves. "Okay now, Mr. Vaughn…"
"Michael," Vaughn interrupted.
"Michael," the nurse responded with a small smile. "I'm going to get you cleaned up a bit before we put the gown on you. Is that all right?"
"That's fine."
Nodding to the orderly, who stood back against the wall unobtrusively, the nurse picked up the cloth and dipped it in the water, lifting it to squeeze out the excess water. "If you wouldn't mind lying down, I'd like to clean off your face and hair."
The orderly stepped forward to help Vaughn slowly lie back onto the table. The nurse lifted his head, placing a white towel underneath. "Okay, here we go, Michael…Close your eyes, I'm going to start with your face…"
Vaughn closed his eyes and immediately pictured the lovely face of Sydney Bristow. The gentle swabs of the cloth on his skin reminded him of her soft kisses on his cheek. Sydney had such soft skin. As the nurse's hands moved to his hair, removing the traces of blood from it, Vaughn's mind drifted to how much Sydney liked to run her fingers through his hair, how she often did so when he was making love to her…His mind drifted to the last time they'd made love, so full of laughter and teasing, so frantically erotic on the living room couch while her roommates were away…
A couch that was now tipped onto its side, one leg broken off. In a house now covered in blood and glass…with dead bodies on the floor…with Sydney's body on the floor…
Vaughn sucked in a violent breath and forced his eyes open. He didn't want to see that picture; he didn't want to think of that memory…even though he knew that vision would be frozen in his mind forever. In that moment, Vaughn felt he could truly empathize with how Sydney must feel every time she thought of Danny Hecht. Did all of her happy memories ultimately drown in the horror of her last sight of him? Did she, in time, find a way to dull the pain and remember better days? Vaughn prayed he'd never need to find out.
"There now," the nurse said, dropping the dirty cloth into the biohazard trash receptacle with a wet thump. She used the towel his head rested on to dry his hair and face. "Doesn't that feel better?"
"Ahem…yes, thank you," Vaughn replied. He didn't want to let on that he was actually very distraught.
"Okay then, let's get the gown on you and get the doctor in here to sew you up," she said with a kind smile that told him that she could see through his attempt at being brave. She could see in his eyes that he was bluffing. She helped his arms into the gown and then shuffled off toward the door. "I'll be back in a moment with the doctor, okay?"
Vaughn nodded, and the nurse and orderly vacated the room, leaving him alone again with his thoughts ~ thoughts that invariably drifted back to Sydney.
Right now, they should have been on their way to Santa Barbara, discussing the various ways Sydney planned to "kick his ass" at hockey, or the best way to procure Weiss a girlfriend (A sweet, funny guy with a horrifically bad approach, Sydney had once said of Eric). She would slide herself across the bench seat of his government-issued sedan and snuggle up next to him, head on his shoulder, her silky hair draping down his arm. Maybe she'd even go into great detail as to what she wanted to do to him the minute they arrived at their destination. She'd done that the day of the mole hunt briefing and it had driven him insane.
Michael smiled wistfully at the memory. After their frenzied coupling, they'd snuggled contentedly together on the couch, confident in the knowledge that they had plenty of time to spare before Will and Francie got home… a belief that proved sadly incorrect. The sound of a car door slamming out on the street a few minutes later had caused Sydney to bolt upright from her comfortable position in Vaughn's arms. She padded, catlike, on her toes over to the front windows, slightly bending down a blind slat to peer outside.
Gasping, she'd whispered frantically, "Vaughn…it's Will; Oh, God…he's coming up the walk!" Just like teenagers about to be caught by their parents, both of them scurried to pick up their scattered clothes and then streaked down the hallway into Syd's bedroom, giggling like children. Sydney got her bedroom door closed with a silent click a split second before Will's key turned in the lock. Syd stood next to the door, listening, holding a finger up to her lips, signaling for Vaughn to keep quiet. They listened as Will went to the fridge, got out a beer, popped the top open, and then retreated into the living room, where he plopped himself onto the same sofa Vaughn and Sydney had just vacated. Sydney dared to peek out the door a crack just as Will's hand reached into the couch cushion crevice, searching for the television remote. Taking a sip of his beer, he pulled out the remote, which was attached to…of all things…Sydney's recently discarded bra.
Sydney clapped a hand over her mouth, which had formed a wide "O" of shock, and actually started to blush. After Will's initial reaction of, "What the…?", he blithely tossed the item into the hallway in the direction of Sydney's bedroom and, without even looking over his shoulder, deadpanned, "All right, you rabbits, keep it in the bedroom, would ya? The rest of us are trying to watch quality TV, here…" to which Sydney simply burst out laughing…one of Vaughn's favorite sounds in the whole world.
Sydney had even given that "encounter" a pet name: the 'Point Guy' Incident. The whole rest of that week, whenever she wanted to tease Vaughn or make him blush, she would come up behind him in public places (like in the middle of the Ops Center, for example) and whisper, "Hey, Point Guy…" After a while, all she'd have to say was "P.G." to elicit a reaction. She loved having that power over him, he thought, and truthfully, he loved letting her have it.
Vaughn's smile faded with the realization that he might never have even one more moment like that with Sydney. Tonight in the car, when he'd kissed her lightly and told her he'd see her after the debrief, he hadn't told her what was hiding in his heart. He had felt that the backdrop of a beautiful beach in Santa Barbara would be a more appropriate place to make his first declaration of his true feelings to her. But time and fate conspired against him, and were now plotting to take her away from him.
It was a harsh lesson, but one he knew he would never forget: "more appropriate" times might never come; better to make use of the time you have. He knew that if given the chance, the words he had hesitated to speak would be the first ones from his mouth.
Hopefully, he would have the chance.