In The Air Tonight, Part 10

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Michael Vaughn wasted no time with small talk. "She's in Intensive Care. According to Jake, she made it out of surgery and was admitted to the ward about ten minutes ago."

"Condition?" Jack demanded.

"Severe concussion, broken wrist, four broken ribs, punctured lung, internal bleeding, bruised kidneys," Vaughn rattled off Sydney's symptoms like a grocery list. "Stable for the time being, but they are concerned about swelling on the brain and renal failure."

Jack's jaw twitched, as if the news physically caused him pain. "And Tippin?"

Vaughn shrugged apologetically. "I don't know."

Jack turned to stare at Weiss. Eric immediately got the hint. He put up his hands in the universal sign of surrender. "Okay, okay, I'm going…" he said, practically bolting from the room.

Looking back at Vaughn, Jack continued as if there'd been no interruption. "And you?"

"Nothing serious," answered Vaughn.

Jack gave Vaughn a pointed once over, taking in every detail of the condition of the young man. This was even more uncomfortable than usual for Vaughn, considering he was wearing nothing but a short hospital gown, underwear, and socks. He fought the impulse to squirm.

Instead, Vaughn raised his chin defiantly. "I'm fine," came his clipped reply.

Jack nodded once. "Good. Then when they release you, I expect to see you upstairs in ICU. We need to go over the details of the events of this evening."

Nurse Sanchez took that inopportune moment to check on Vaughn's progress with the IV. As soon as she saw Jack, she instructed, "I'm sorry, sir, but there are to be no…" She trailed off as Jack turned, his powerful stare on her. Her voice petered out for a moment before continuing tremulously, "…visitors in the exam rooms. Please leave." It came out as more a plea than an order.

Luckily for her, Jack was in an obliging mood. He nodded once in her direction and swept out the door, his long gray trench coat billowing out behind him.

Nurse Sanchez looked rattled. "Who was that!?" she breathed.

"My girlfriend's father. She was brought in the same time I was," Vaughn explained.

"But…he was carrying a gun!"

Vaughn tried hard not to smile. He found it amusing how much fear Jack Bristow could instill in people with just one look. "He's in law enforcement," he answered vaguely.

The nurse looked relieved. "Oh…whew! For a moment there, I thought maybe he was in the Mafia or something…scared the begeezus out of me!"

Vaughn chuckled. "I'm not surprised. He tends to have that effect on people." He grinned at the nurse to put her at ease.

She returned his smile as she worked to pinch off the tube from his IV bag in preparation for removal. "Did you say he was your girlfriend's father?"

Vaughn nodded.

She shuddered. "I'd hate to have him for a father-in-law. That was one sca-ry man."

"He does take some getting used to," Vaughn admitted. "But trust me; Sydney's worth it."

"Sydney? Oh, you mean your girlfriend, right?" Nurse Sanchez deduced.

"Yes. She'd be worth dealing with five of him…"

A smile lit up the diminutive, dark-haired nurse's face. "You must really love her, then…"

Vaughn's face fell. "Yes… I do," he replied sadly.

The nurse removed the IV tube from Vaughn's arm, quickly placing a gauze square over the hole and bringing his forearm up to squeeze the cotton between his upper and lower arm. "What's so bad about that?"

"I haven't told her," Vaughn explained. "She doesn't know how I feel about her."

"Nonsense," Nurse Sanchez replied, waving her hand in dismissal as if she were shooing a fly. She brought Vaughn's arm back down and secured the gauze inside his elbow crease with surgical tape. "Raise your arm, please," she instructed, helping Vaughn to raise his arm straight up in the air.

"What's nonsense?" Michael asked her, watching her efficiently bustle about, cleaning up the room's equipment in record time.

"What you just said," she responded, glancing at him with a warm smile. "Sure, you may not have actually said the words 'I love you', but I'm sure she knows."

"Why do you think that?" Vaughn pressed.

She laughed, as if it were a silly question. "Because anyone with half a brain could tell you love her! It's in the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about her. It's in your voice when you say her name. It's on your face when you think about her: your face…it glows… So of course she knows…"

"Yeah, well… Sydney's got some trust issues. Not with me, per se; but she's had some difficult experiences in her past." Now there's a serious understatement… Vaughn thought. "I think maybe she'd have a tough time believing it without me telling her."

Nurse Sanchez motioned to Vaughn that he could put his arm down and then patted his hand consolingly. "Now, now, maybe it's harder for her to trust what she's feeling and what she feels from you, but deep down; she knows it."

Vaughn looked dubious.

"If you're really this worried about it, then just tell her as soon as she wakes up," the nurse suggested.

"I plan to," Michael replied.

"Good man," she agreed. She ripped a page off a clipboard and handed it to him. "Okay, doctor's orders…keep off that leg as much as possible for the next few days to prevent re-injury. It was a very deep cut. Otherwise, just make sure to change the dressing on it and the one on your hand at least once a day. Keep them clean and dry. The stitches in your leg and hand will dissolve on their own." She motioned to the chair that held his belongings. "All your things are there. We brought you a pair of scrubs to change into…"

Vaughn nodded his understanding of her instructions. "Thanks."

"Will you need some help changing? I can send in the orderly if you like…"

"No, that's fine; I'll manage."

"All right, then," the nurse nodded. "Good luck."

"Thank you."

Nurse Sanchez left the room, closing the door behind her.

Michael Vaughn slid off the examination table, wincing as he placed weight on his injured leg. Evidently, the anesthetic has worn off, he thought, impatiently pulling the hospital gown off and tossing it in a heap on the table. He hobbled across the room in his boxers to the chair containing his clothing and the scrubs. Picking up the scrubs in one hand, he used the other to plop the bag of his belongings onto the floor. Then he gingerly lowered himself into the chair and began to dress.

Once he was clothed in the green scrubs and had put on his shoes, he reached into the plastic bag to retrieve his wallet and other items. Vaughn was shocked to see just how much blood covered his clothing. He hadn't noticed any of it earlier; he'd been too worried about Sydney. The pictures of how he'd found Sydney and Will flashed in his mind, and he shook his head to dismiss them. He refused himself the comfort of self-pity right now. All that mattered was Sydney.

He rifled through his pants pockets until he found his wallet and set it on his knee. Then he checked pockets in his coat and shirt until he located the card given to him by Jake Rambaldi. Looking at it again, he couldn't help but feel there was a reason for Jake to have come into his life at this moment in time. He knew it sounded insane, but he couldn't seem to shake the feeling.

Carefully placing the card into his wallet, he slid it into the back pocket of the scrub pants. Vaughn stood up, and then reached down to pick up the plastic bag. Walking over to the examination table, he took the yellow piece of paper with the doctor's instructions and shoved it into the front breast pocket of the green scrub shirt.

Limping just slightly, Michael Vaughn exited the exam room; determination etched on his features. He was a man on a mission: he was going to see Sydney.