Title: Ever This Night
Author: Margot C (aka Kittyfantastico)
Rating: U (or G, if you're American)
Timeline: Extended scene at the end of Blood Ties
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. I don't know who wrote the Catholic prayer I used at the beginning, but I don't own that either.
A/N: Well, I found that S/V scene at the end of Blood Ties awkward and odd, with neither of them, especially Sydney, acting very like themselves. And not to mention it was entirely too short. This is what I like to think happened after we left them. The scene ends with Vaughn saying that The Chosen One and The Passenger will fight and neither will survive.
1/1
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Angel of God, my guardian dear,
To whom God’s love commits me here,
Ever this night be at my side
To love, to guard, to rule and guide.
“Who told you that?” Sydney asked, her voice low, serious. Without realising it, she gripped his hand tighter, needing something to hold onto as she braced herself for another one of her life’s nose-dives.
“You remember I told you about that guy Brill? The one who knew my father.”
“He told you?” Vaughn nodded, while she squeezed his fingers even tighter, almost painfully. “How does he know?”
“He was there when my dad was killed.” Sydney was silent. She didn’t want to push Vaughn; things were already so strained between them, and forcing him to talk about his father could only make things worse. She was also horrified by the state he was in and didn’t want him getting worked up. On the other hand, she felt as if she was about to explode from the bombshell he had just unloaded on her, and she was desperate for answers. It was beyond her how William Vaughn could have anything to do with her sister or why Vaughn had been given this intel rather than her. “He was protecting The Passenger – your sister,” he announced, shattering her silence.
“What?”
“He took her from the KGB, but apparently he didn’t trust the CIA either.” Vaughn’s voice sounded bitter and sharp, a tone it had taken on a lot lately, and one Sydney was not fond of. “He was a follower of Rambaldi.”
“But wait – if your dad was protecting Nadia, then why did my mother kill him?”
“I don’t know, Sydney. Not that any of it matters anymore.” He spat the words out angrily, as if they burned his tongue, and Sydney sat down by his side, leant over him and rested her free hand against his face. He turned his face into her palm so that she wouldn’t see him cry, forgetting that the droplets of liquid pain would cascade over her fingers, etching their tiny paths into her palm so that she would always be able to trace a line there with her fingertip and say, ‘this is where he cried.’
“Hey,” she soothed, allowing him to cry, and comforting him simultaneously, all the time the nurse’s warning ringing in her ears; “don’t let him get too worked up, he needs to rest.”
“Syd…my dad…I didn’t even know him! It was all a lie.” He looked at her, grief-stricken, and saw her own eyes shimmering with tears; tears for his pain, and for her own.
“I know,” she whispered. “I know what that’s like. But you’ll be okay.” She comforted him the way a mother comforts a child, running her fingers through his hair, across his face, carefully avoiding the cuts and scratches. She brought his left hand up to her face and pressed her lips to his fingers in what was not quite a kiss, yet so much more; it was as if she was trying to pass some of her strength to him, or to draw the pain out of him the way one sucks the poison from a snake bite. “Shhh…I’m here,” she continued to murmur. “I’ll take care of you.” She realised then, that it was no longer her role, her privilege, to look after him, and worse, that he might no longer want her to. “Let me take care of you,” she asked, her demanding tone masking the hidden plea. He did not reply; there was no need. His answer was there in his eyes, in the gentle squeeze of his hand in hers, and the very serious look he was now giving her: she could look after him if he could look after her. It was a fair deal.
“You won’t try to find her again, will you?” he asked suddenly, urgently.
“Vaughn…” she hesitated. “I could be able to help her.”
“Please, Sydney,” he begged.
“Not until we know more,” she relented, unable to bear being the cause of so much worry for him, yet reluctant to give up on Nadia either.
“Not until I’m there with you,” he persisted.
“Okay,” she smiled, amazed at how protective he was, even after all he had been through. His first thought was still for her safety. She quickly grew quiet, another weight tugging at her thoughts.
“What is it?” he asked gently.
“Your dad gave his life to protect Nadia…to protect her from me. He obviously believed I was this great danger…I mean, I’d understand if you feel like you need to follow him…if you have to keep her away from me.”
“Oh, Syd,” he breathed, pulling her down to him as she gave in to her turn to cry. “That’s not what this is about.” He adjusted her slightly on his chest so that she wasn’t hurting him and rubbed her back, soothing her as she had done him. “I want to keep you away from her for your own sake, not hers!”
“But your dad…” she whispered, taking deep breaths as she cried.
“Syd…it turns out that I barely knew my dad. You’re the most important person in my life. I know you, and I trust you. If you really believe that your sister isn’t a danger to you, I’ll help you to find her. But I want you to promise me that you’ll wait until I’m able to go with you.”
“I promise,” she smiled, sitting back up.
For a while they sat, just smiling. Once they became comfortable with each other, Vaughn was able to relax and he suddenly realised how much his emotional out burst had affected him. He looked up at the ceiling and grimaced. This did not help the pain at all, only caught Sydney’s attention and caused her to jump up and fiddle with the medication in the IV drip, easing his pain. She continued to worry over him; pouring him a glass of water and helping him to drink, and adjusting his pillows to make him more comfortable. Sitting back down, Sydney moved her chair as close to the bed as she could get it and took his left hand in her right again.
“Is that better?” she asked softly, placing her other hand back on the side of his face and stroking his cheek with her thumb. He nodded and she bestowed a soft smile on him. They were both too involved in each other to notice Jack Bristow standing outside the door, watching them through the window.
Jack stood in the corridor and contemplatively watched as his daughter fussed over Agent Vaughn. He had come hoping to see Vaughn alone; he was eager for someone to help him persuade Sydney that going after Nadia was a bad idea, and he knew that if Sydney would listen to anyone, it would be Vaughn. But this was not the only reason for his visit. He had found himself thinking about the younger agent a great deal recently; he could definitely relate to him, given the current state of affairs, and he had begun to feel that he had perhaps been to hard on him. He was pleased to note, however, that his many rebuttals had not prevented Vaughn from allowing his love for Sydney to flourish. Despite everything he had said against him, Jack could not think of a better man for his daughter than Vaughn. At least, that had been his assessment two years ago. Now, he was not so sure, but he was beginning to come around to the idea again. As he watched them together, he was taken aback by their closeness, both physically and emotionally, and as much as it pained him to think such a thing of his own child, he wondered how long it would have been before Vaughn broke his marriage vows, or if indeed it had already happened. It was only too obvious, particularly to someone with Jack’s observational skills, that these two were longing for each other, and he hoped that Sydney was not setting herself up for disappointment again. It occurred to Jack that he was intruding on what looked like a very private moment, so he decided that he would come back later, deciding that he would also warn Vaughn against breaking his little girl’s heart once again.
Sydney and Vaughn had been talking quietly about nothing in particular, Sydney insisting that Vaughn try to get some sleep, and he insisting that he was not tired. In truth, he was tired, but he did not want to sleep. He was relishing Sydney’s attention, and lay back trying to soak up as much of her warm smile and affectionate touch as he could. A part of him was filled with a selfish dread that as soon as he was out of hospital she would resume her search for her sister, throwing all her energy into finding her and he would be forgotten. It was a horrible feeling, one he hadn’t had since he was a young boy, mourning the death of his father and terrified that his mother would be so overcome with grief that she would forget all about him and he would be left to fend for himself. But the other part of him knew what he meant to Sydney. He felt that he didn’t deserve to have her love, still, after everything he’d put her through, but it as obvious that he did. He could tell by the way her fingers brushed softly over his skin, trembling slightly because she was nervous around him sometimes, the way her eyes filled with tears when she saw him in pain because what she felt for him was so strong that she was deeply affected by it, the way she had blushed when he had first taken her hand, and the way she gazed at him with that mixture of tenderness and intense longing that was so uniquely her.
“Syd…” he started, wanting to reassure himself that she wouldn’t forget him. “You won’t forget me if you find your sister, will you?”
“Vaughn, of course not,” she gasped, her eyes widening in horror. “I admit I always wanted a sister, and now I have one, it’s hard not to make finding her a priority. But, like you said about your dad…I don’t know her.” She paused, considering whether or not she should say what she wanted to. “I don’t love her. You’re my main priority and you always will be.”
Vaughn sighed with relief and closed his eyes, finally letting relaxation wash over him like a cool breeze on a hot day. Sydney ran her hand over his forehead and sighed too, though her sigh was filled more with worry than relief; worry about Vaughn, about all the issues they still had to overcome, and about everything else that she had to worry about as well. She heard his breathing even out, indicating that he was giving in to sleep, and she stood up, extracting his hand from hers.
“Don’t go,” he mumbled, grasping at her hand again.
“Vaughn, you need to sleep,” she argued.
“Stay with me, Syd. Please,” he pleaded with her, and she stood no chance against that voice, and those eyes.
“Okay. But sleep.” She sat down again, and he pulled her forward, moving her so that she rested on his chest.
Later, when Jack returned, he was touched by the picture before him. Vaughn and Sydney were both sleeping, Sydney sitting in the chair, but lying forwards, her upper body resting on Vaughn’s. Their hands were still entwined; Vaughn’s free hand was tangled in her hair while hers lay on his chest. They looked so peaceful, so innocent. As Jack watched them sleep, they seemed little more than children. But they were so much more than that, and he knew, looking at them then, that whatever complications they had to get through, and whatever life at the CIA threw at them, they would be alright.
THE END
Don't you just love them? :wub:
Margot