SkyGirl5
Cadet
Title: Hermès
Genre: s/v during syd's missing 2 years after she "died"
Summary: Meet me tomorrow at noon at the church across the street. Go into the confessional closest to the front of the church. I have information regarding Sydney Bristow.
16 Chapters
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1 (below) Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 & 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9
Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 + Epilogue
Chapter 1
The sun was barely beginning to creep over the horizon and shed an orange glow through the window as Michael Vaughn rolled out of his bed. The night had been very long, full of tossing and turning and only sleeping for bits of time here and there. He could not stand lying down any longer; he needed to get up. Shuffling his way into the bathroom, his eyes were still closed tightly, causing him to painfully smash into the wall with his elbow and curse loudly. Once he safely made it into the bathroom, he groped his way to the shower and cranked the water on almost as hot as it could possibly be. He then stripped out of his boxers and t-shirt and climbed into the scalding hot shower.
Instead of hissing with agony from the steaming water like he usually did, he yelped for an entirely different reason; the water was ice cold. Now fully awake, Vaughn slid his way out of the ice bath and groped for the faucet handle once more. He turned it the fully way off and then the full way on that time making sure to crank it as far as it could possibly go towards the hot side. He was met with the same result: the water was freezing.
Groaning, he emerged from the shower, grabbing a towel on the way, and reached for the bathroom sink. He turned on the left side faucet and let it run for a few minutes before testing its temperature. Not surprisingly, the water was still freezing. Now irritated, he walked towards the phone and called down to the hotel’s front desk only to find that their hot water heater was, in fact, broken, but would hopefully be fixed by the end of the day.
Grumbling and mumbling under his breath some more, Vaughn returned to the bathroom to take a very fast, very cold shower. Apparently for him, it was just going to be one of those days. It seemed that for him, he was having a lot of ‘those days’ lately. In fact, he was just having one of those years, or nine months anyway. Any sunshine had disappeared from his life the moment Sydney Bristow, the love of his life, died.
That moment occurred on a seemingly ordinary day nine months, ten days, twelve hours and ten minutes earlier. Ordinary day was, of course, a relative term. Ordinary in the lives of Sydney Bristow and Michael Vaughn, international spies, was not even in the same realm of ordinary for the population of the world as a whole. They had been on a mission, not surprising for them, and returned home. An impromptu trip to Santa Barbara, California and a relaxing weekend with just the two of them and the beach awaited them after Vaughn’s debrief. Unfortunately, they never had the chance to experience it.
While Vaughn was half listening to CIA Director Kendall drone on and on and on about work-related things and half fantasizing about his weekend away with his girlfriend, Sydney was dying. Though no one was sure what exactly happened, somehow a fire had been started at Sydney’s house. The CIA monitors police and fire calls to their agent’s residences, so they knew immediately that the fire department had been dispatched to Sydney’s house. The agency knew all too well Vaughn’s romantic relationship with Sydney, so as not to alarm him (and pull him from his debrief) Dixon was sent to the house. There, Dixon was met with the grave sight and immediately called Weiss, knowing he was the best person to break the tragic news to his best friend.
When Weiss found out that Sydney Bristow, a close friend of his as well, was dead, he was uncertain what caused him to be more distraught: the fact that Sydney was gone from their lives, or the fact that, within moments, Vaughn would be too. With a solemn expression, Weiss delivered Dixon’s message to Vaughn, who naturally had an indescribable and uncharacteristic reaction. He shouted and screamed at his best friend for speaking such a terrible lie to him before turning his fury on Kendall. Then, when the disbelief set in, Vaughn bolted to his car and drove to Sydney’s at top speed. Upon seeing the charred wreck that was Sydney’s residence, Vaughn lost all control of his emotions; his life had been changed forever with the lighting of one match.
That was the last normal day of Vaughn’s life. That was the last day he was motivated to get out of bed in the mornings. That was the day that would be forever marked in his mind as the day that he lost part of himself, never to be returned.
The information regarding Sydney’s death was vague at best. Her body was burned beyond recognition; she had to be identified with her dental records. The body of her roommate, Francie, was also found. Her house had been so destroyed in the fire that all evidence was ruined along with any chance the CIA had of finding out what truly happened that fateful afternoon. Only one thing was clear: the fire was arson. Keeping this information in mind, the CIA looked into the death of their top agent, but with no evidence, it was impossible to determine if Sydney had merely been the victim of a misguided miscreant who picked her house at random, or someone who had been out to get her specifically.
After Sydney’s death, Vaughn sunk into a deep depression. One conversation with the therapist Dr Barnett gave him a medical leave of absence from his job. He simply became a shell, existing within the walls of his house, rarely leaving. He kept the blinds drawn at all times and the refrigerator well stocked with liquor and beer, which seemed to be his only beverage of consumption. Weiss kept a close watch on him, mostly for suicidal reasons, but Vaughn never even considered taking his own life. Well, maybe for a minute he did, but then he decided that he was not even alive enough to die; it simply would not work.
For three months he lived in the tomb that was his house, until, one day, he had a most unexpected visitor. When Jack Bristow showed up on Vaughn’s doorstep, he had no idea what to think. Actually, at the time, he was a little too intoxicated to think, but Jack took care of that. He emptied the remaining liquor from the bottle in Vaughn’s hand into the sink along with the rest of his supply. Then, he made a pot of coffee and waited for the younger man to sober up long enough to have an intelligent conversation.
When Vaughn did come around, he protested Jack’s presence greatly, stating that he was in no mood for a lecture. That was when his second, but not last, shock came. Jack was not there to lecture, well, he was, but not about the topic Vaughn was anticipating. Jack lectured Vaughn on his drunken behavior, telling him that Sydney would not have wanted him to be acting that way. Vaughn knew this to be true, but he needed the alcohol to escape from the pain he was feeling; it was his only out.
Jack went on to tell him, much to his utter bewilderment, that he respected Vaughn’s love for Sydney. Though he had never made it obvious, or even hinted at it a little bit, he also respected Vaughn as an agent, at least more than he had when they first met. Jack explained to Vaughn the situation surrounding Sydney’s death and detailed him on his theory that Sydney’s death was not an accident. Vaughn listened respectively, but in the end told Jack he wanted absolutely nothing to do with whatever Jack was scheming at. Then, he left to go and find himself a bar.
its a little slow to get started but i promise it picks up
Genre: s/v during syd's missing 2 years after she "died"
Summary: Meet me tomorrow at noon at the church across the street. Go into the confessional closest to the front of the church. I have information regarding Sydney Bristow.
16 Chapters
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1 (below) Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 & 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9
Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 + Epilogue
Chapter 1
The sun was barely beginning to creep over the horizon and shed an orange glow through the window as Michael Vaughn rolled out of his bed. The night had been very long, full of tossing and turning and only sleeping for bits of time here and there. He could not stand lying down any longer; he needed to get up. Shuffling his way into the bathroom, his eyes were still closed tightly, causing him to painfully smash into the wall with his elbow and curse loudly. Once he safely made it into the bathroom, he groped his way to the shower and cranked the water on almost as hot as it could possibly be. He then stripped out of his boxers and t-shirt and climbed into the scalding hot shower.
Instead of hissing with agony from the steaming water like he usually did, he yelped for an entirely different reason; the water was ice cold. Now fully awake, Vaughn slid his way out of the ice bath and groped for the faucet handle once more. He turned it the fully way off and then the full way on that time making sure to crank it as far as it could possibly go towards the hot side. He was met with the same result: the water was freezing.
Groaning, he emerged from the shower, grabbing a towel on the way, and reached for the bathroom sink. He turned on the left side faucet and let it run for a few minutes before testing its temperature. Not surprisingly, the water was still freezing. Now irritated, he walked towards the phone and called down to the hotel’s front desk only to find that their hot water heater was, in fact, broken, but would hopefully be fixed by the end of the day.
Grumbling and mumbling under his breath some more, Vaughn returned to the bathroom to take a very fast, very cold shower. Apparently for him, it was just going to be one of those days. It seemed that for him, he was having a lot of ‘those days’ lately. In fact, he was just having one of those years, or nine months anyway. Any sunshine had disappeared from his life the moment Sydney Bristow, the love of his life, died.
That moment occurred on a seemingly ordinary day nine months, ten days, twelve hours and ten minutes earlier. Ordinary day was, of course, a relative term. Ordinary in the lives of Sydney Bristow and Michael Vaughn, international spies, was not even in the same realm of ordinary for the population of the world as a whole. They had been on a mission, not surprising for them, and returned home. An impromptu trip to Santa Barbara, California and a relaxing weekend with just the two of them and the beach awaited them after Vaughn’s debrief. Unfortunately, they never had the chance to experience it.
While Vaughn was half listening to CIA Director Kendall drone on and on and on about work-related things and half fantasizing about his weekend away with his girlfriend, Sydney was dying. Though no one was sure what exactly happened, somehow a fire had been started at Sydney’s house. The CIA monitors police and fire calls to their agent’s residences, so they knew immediately that the fire department had been dispatched to Sydney’s house. The agency knew all too well Vaughn’s romantic relationship with Sydney, so as not to alarm him (and pull him from his debrief) Dixon was sent to the house. There, Dixon was met with the grave sight and immediately called Weiss, knowing he was the best person to break the tragic news to his best friend.
When Weiss found out that Sydney Bristow, a close friend of his as well, was dead, he was uncertain what caused him to be more distraught: the fact that Sydney was gone from their lives, or the fact that, within moments, Vaughn would be too. With a solemn expression, Weiss delivered Dixon’s message to Vaughn, who naturally had an indescribable and uncharacteristic reaction. He shouted and screamed at his best friend for speaking such a terrible lie to him before turning his fury on Kendall. Then, when the disbelief set in, Vaughn bolted to his car and drove to Sydney’s at top speed. Upon seeing the charred wreck that was Sydney’s residence, Vaughn lost all control of his emotions; his life had been changed forever with the lighting of one match.
That was the last normal day of Vaughn’s life. That was the last day he was motivated to get out of bed in the mornings. That was the day that would be forever marked in his mind as the day that he lost part of himself, never to be returned.
The information regarding Sydney’s death was vague at best. Her body was burned beyond recognition; she had to be identified with her dental records. The body of her roommate, Francie, was also found. Her house had been so destroyed in the fire that all evidence was ruined along with any chance the CIA had of finding out what truly happened that fateful afternoon. Only one thing was clear: the fire was arson. Keeping this information in mind, the CIA looked into the death of their top agent, but with no evidence, it was impossible to determine if Sydney had merely been the victim of a misguided miscreant who picked her house at random, or someone who had been out to get her specifically.
After Sydney’s death, Vaughn sunk into a deep depression. One conversation with the therapist Dr Barnett gave him a medical leave of absence from his job. He simply became a shell, existing within the walls of his house, rarely leaving. He kept the blinds drawn at all times and the refrigerator well stocked with liquor and beer, which seemed to be his only beverage of consumption. Weiss kept a close watch on him, mostly for suicidal reasons, but Vaughn never even considered taking his own life. Well, maybe for a minute he did, but then he decided that he was not even alive enough to die; it simply would not work.
For three months he lived in the tomb that was his house, until, one day, he had a most unexpected visitor. When Jack Bristow showed up on Vaughn’s doorstep, he had no idea what to think. Actually, at the time, he was a little too intoxicated to think, but Jack took care of that. He emptied the remaining liquor from the bottle in Vaughn’s hand into the sink along with the rest of his supply. Then, he made a pot of coffee and waited for the younger man to sober up long enough to have an intelligent conversation.
When Vaughn did come around, he protested Jack’s presence greatly, stating that he was in no mood for a lecture. That was when his second, but not last, shock came. Jack was not there to lecture, well, he was, but not about the topic Vaughn was anticipating. Jack lectured Vaughn on his drunken behavior, telling him that Sydney would not have wanted him to be acting that way. Vaughn knew this to be true, but he needed the alcohol to escape from the pain he was feeling; it was his only out.
Jack went on to tell him, much to his utter bewilderment, that he respected Vaughn’s love for Sydney. Though he had never made it obvious, or even hinted at it a little bit, he also respected Vaughn as an agent, at least more than he had when they first met. Jack explained to Vaughn the situation surrounding Sydney’s death and detailed him on his theory that Sydney’s death was not an accident. Vaughn listened respectively, but in the end told Jack he wanted absolutely nothing to do with whatever Jack was scheming at. Then, he left to go and find himself a bar.
its a little slow to get started but i promise it picks up
