Hello everybody. This here is my second fic and I’m very, very nervous. I really hope that you’ll like it. It’s totally different than “Maroon”, but I love this story so much. Okay, I won’t continue to talk too much, so simply: Enjoy! And please review. This story is already finished (Prologue, six chaps and epilogue) so it won’t take too long to update.
Love, Danuta
Title: Three words
Author: Danuta
Couple: Syd and Vaughn (not really a surprise)
Rating: PG-13 and R-16
Spoiler: Up and including vaguely episode 2x01 “The enemy walks in“
Summary: Words are connecting and separating them. But these three words have destroyed her heart and now she was on her own again.
Chapters: Prologue, 6 chapters and epilogue
A/N: Changing Second person POV (Syd and Vaughn)
This was just a little idea and I needed to write it down. I know that it’s not very extraordinary or fantastic, but it’s one of my many ‚what-if‘-thoughts. And sometimes it’s better to write the words in your mind down. Believe me, you will understand the sentence after you’ve read the story=)
Soundtrack (the songs I’ve listened to during the writing): La tortura – Shakira; If I fall – Tara McLean; Bruised – Sugarbabes; Losing Grip – Avril Lavigne; Because of you – Kelly Clarkson; Rinse – Vanessa Carlton; Everything – Lifehouse; Can I go now – Jennifer Love Hewitt; Stupid – Sarah McLachlan
Prologue
Syd POV
Three words. The most important sentences in life consist of three words. All important feelings can be caught in just three simple words.
“I love you”
“I hate you”
“I want you”
“I despise you”
“I am happy”
“It is tragic”
“It is wonderful”
“I like you”
“I believe you”
“I distrust you”
The most important sentences in your life have consisted of three words.
“Mommy is dead”
“Daddy is away”
“Do not cry”
“Quit the bank”
“Danny is dead”
“Mom is alive”
You prefer short sentences by now. Their meaning is clear. No place for misunderstanding or misinterpreting. They are clear and simple. Most of the time. Too many words confuse you by now.
You hear them. You hate them. And you live on.
Endless briefings. Avoiding subjects by creating a dive of words that choke you. And you live on. Try to decipher the hidden meanings and answer in the same cryptic way. People prefer the torrent of words. Like to choose which they want to hear and which they will ignore. But your life is hard enough. You have enough to think about, so the only thing you want is that they only open their mouths to tell you the important things.
You stare blankly at the crisp white wall. He talks to you. Tries to explain to you the difficult situation. You have stopped listening to him hours ago. His words go straight through your body. Nothing can help you anymore. Not even his presence. But as he continues to rattle on and on, you just hear the single letters. You have lost the ability to connect them, to hear the words, to understand the meaning of what he is saying. The abundance of insignificant details he is giving you, nerves you.
“Are you even listening to me?“
Is it hurt you can feel erupting from his words? Or anger? Pain? You would love to hear him yelling. Telling you that he hates you. Not these declarations of nothing.
Justredeemmehatemekillme.Pleasepleaseplease. You want to scream at him. You want to give him your gun, close your eyes and wait for the shoot that would end your meaningless life.
But he would be frightened. The most people are when you tell them the truth straight into their faces. They‘re afraid because their world of explanations and paraphrases is endangered. So you keep your mouth shut. You bit your lip until the metallic taste of your own blood fills your mouth. And it’s the first time you smile in ages. Because it is the first time you forget the other pain that is growing inside of you for only a second. But the second is over too soon and the hurt that lies so much deeper inside of you are killing you again.
“Sydney. Come on. You’re frightening me. Say something.“
A wry grin settles on your face. You know that. But you’re not punishing him with your silence. You would punish him with your words. You would tell him your deepest secret, would spill every tragic detail of your weird life, would cry about all the people who have left you, would scream at him that he has found you. And that, yes, that would be the living hell for him. It’s time to realize that there’s nothing to talk about. Nothing worth talking about.
“Sydney. Tell me. How are you? Really. I’m your friend. I love you so much. Please tell me.“
You look up. That was surprising. You have never realized that his feelings for you are that deep. Can’t he see that you‘re a demon? You would haunt him. Every day. Every night. You are the downfall for every man.
“They killed Danny”
“Noah was Snowman”
“Will was abducted”
“Jack has lied”
“Vaughn is missing”
Again three words that have changed your life. Funny how life seems to work against your happiness. An icy laugh escapes your throat. He looks at you with a questioning look on his boyish features.
He approaches you. Like you’re a wild animal. And you can bite, if you want. And right now you feel all your senses are on overload, not knowing how to react. Following his movements with your eyes, you see him lifting his hand to your face and feel him tracing the outline of your skin with the back of his fingertips. A gesture of love. But love is pure, innocent and beautiful. You aren’t.
Jerking away, your hand tight around his wrist, you know that you are hurting him.
“Don’t touch me.”
Your voice is dangerous low. A groan. A scream. A whisper. A threat.
Only then he realizes. His eyes meet yours and he sees it clearly. He’s known you for too long. Playing “hide and seek” isn’t possible with him.
Tears are brimming at your lashes and you wonder that after all the crying you are able to produce even more drops of sorrow and sadness. There’s no bravery left inside of you. So you let him go and see the red impression on his wrist. No regrets are flooding through your body. You aren’t better as the villains you wanted to fight. You are the same. The hate, the pain, has eaten your soul away. There’s only a black hole left now. You aren’t standing at the edge of the abyss anymore, you have fallen into a long time ago. And all your ghosts of the past are laughing at you, are threatening you.
“I thought it’s forbidden.”
It is. You nod and see his furrowed brow. Gogogoleavemealone. Don’t try to help me, you want to say, but you can’t form a coherent sentence anymore. Your heart can’t possibly break because of what has happened.
“You are strong”
“No I am not”
“You will survive”
“Not without you”
He is interrupting your thoughts by whispering your name. He is afraid of touching you anymore. Because you are not his possession. The man who has loved you, who has left you, who has destroyed you, isn’t him. The love for the man, who has left only the hollow shell of the old Sydney Bristow, was never his.
Standing up, you take the folded letter out of your bag. It isn’t long. It isn’t full of false promises and unrealistic wishes. It’s pure and simple. Like you always wanted to be. But that’s not who you are. That’s not who you both are.
“Could you give it to him?”
He isn’t sure. So you use your last acting-abilities and present him with a look that would even melt your own father.
“Okay.”
The moment you give the piece of paper from your hands, is like you can’t breathe anymore. It’s like you can’t think anymore. He has destroyed you. He has shattered your broken heart and soul.
You slip your black coat on and glide your fingers through the fine strands of blonde hair. Removing the big sunglasses out of your bag you stalk away.
Away from this life. Away from him. Away from your hopeless dreams. Goodbye is never easy. But you know that you will do good by leaving them. They deserve to live a life without you.
“Bye Will“, you whisper, but he can’t hear you. The cold walls wouldn’t echo your words. The only sound is his irritated breathing and the clicking of your heels on the cement-floor. Will deserved better. You have never deserved a friend like him. Reaching the door, you push it open and feel the fresh breeze of air.
“Wait Sydney. What should I tell Vaughn if he asks me about you?“
You pause. Mere seconds. Your breath hitches.
One. Two. Three. No words anymore.
You walk on.
Life has changed. And it definitely doesn‘t include Michael Vaughn anymore.
***
tbc...
Please review! You know, just click on this little button and wirte a few words down
Love, Danuta
Love, Danuta
Title: Three words
Author: Danuta
Couple: Syd and Vaughn (not really a surprise)
Rating: PG-13 and R-16
Spoiler: Up and including vaguely episode 2x01 “The enemy walks in“
Summary: Words are connecting and separating them. But these three words have destroyed her heart and now she was on her own again.
Chapters: Prologue, 6 chapters and epilogue
A/N: Changing Second person POV (Syd and Vaughn)
This was just a little idea and I needed to write it down. I know that it’s not very extraordinary or fantastic, but it’s one of my many ‚what-if‘-thoughts. And sometimes it’s better to write the words in your mind down. Believe me, you will understand the sentence after you’ve read the story=)
Soundtrack (the songs I’ve listened to during the writing): La tortura – Shakira; If I fall – Tara McLean; Bruised – Sugarbabes; Losing Grip – Avril Lavigne; Because of you – Kelly Clarkson; Rinse – Vanessa Carlton; Everything – Lifehouse; Can I go now – Jennifer Love Hewitt; Stupid – Sarah McLachlan
Prologue
Syd POV
Three words. The most important sentences in life consist of three words. All important feelings can be caught in just three simple words.
“I love you”
“I hate you”
“I want you”
“I despise you”
“I am happy”
“It is tragic”
“It is wonderful”
“I like you”
“I believe you”
“I distrust you”
The most important sentences in your life have consisted of three words.
“Mommy is dead”
“Daddy is away”
“Do not cry”
“Quit the bank”
“Danny is dead”
“Mom is alive”
You prefer short sentences by now. Their meaning is clear. No place for misunderstanding or misinterpreting. They are clear and simple. Most of the time. Too many words confuse you by now.
You hear them. You hate them. And you live on.
Endless briefings. Avoiding subjects by creating a dive of words that choke you. And you live on. Try to decipher the hidden meanings and answer in the same cryptic way. People prefer the torrent of words. Like to choose which they want to hear and which they will ignore. But your life is hard enough. You have enough to think about, so the only thing you want is that they only open their mouths to tell you the important things.
You stare blankly at the crisp white wall. He talks to you. Tries to explain to you the difficult situation. You have stopped listening to him hours ago. His words go straight through your body. Nothing can help you anymore. Not even his presence. But as he continues to rattle on and on, you just hear the single letters. You have lost the ability to connect them, to hear the words, to understand the meaning of what he is saying. The abundance of insignificant details he is giving you, nerves you.
“Are you even listening to me?“
Is it hurt you can feel erupting from his words? Or anger? Pain? You would love to hear him yelling. Telling you that he hates you. Not these declarations of nothing.
Justredeemmehatemekillme.Pleasepleaseplease. You want to scream at him. You want to give him your gun, close your eyes and wait for the shoot that would end your meaningless life.
But he would be frightened. The most people are when you tell them the truth straight into their faces. They‘re afraid because their world of explanations and paraphrases is endangered. So you keep your mouth shut. You bit your lip until the metallic taste of your own blood fills your mouth. And it’s the first time you smile in ages. Because it is the first time you forget the other pain that is growing inside of you for only a second. But the second is over too soon and the hurt that lies so much deeper inside of you are killing you again.
“Sydney. Come on. You’re frightening me. Say something.“
A wry grin settles on your face. You know that. But you’re not punishing him with your silence. You would punish him with your words. You would tell him your deepest secret, would spill every tragic detail of your weird life, would cry about all the people who have left you, would scream at him that he has found you. And that, yes, that would be the living hell for him. It’s time to realize that there’s nothing to talk about. Nothing worth talking about.
“Sydney. Tell me. How are you? Really. I’m your friend. I love you so much. Please tell me.“
You look up. That was surprising. You have never realized that his feelings for you are that deep. Can’t he see that you‘re a demon? You would haunt him. Every day. Every night. You are the downfall for every man.
“They killed Danny”
“Noah was Snowman”
“Will was abducted”
“Jack has lied”
“Vaughn is missing”
Again three words that have changed your life. Funny how life seems to work against your happiness. An icy laugh escapes your throat. He looks at you with a questioning look on his boyish features.
He approaches you. Like you’re a wild animal. And you can bite, if you want. And right now you feel all your senses are on overload, not knowing how to react. Following his movements with your eyes, you see him lifting his hand to your face and feel him tracing the outline of your skin with the back of his fingertips. A gesture of love. But love is pure, innocent and beautiful. You aren’t.
Jerking away, your hand tight around his wrist, you know that you are hurting him.
“Don’t touch me.”
Your voice is dangerous low. A groan. A scream. A whisper. A threat.
Only then he realizes. His eyes meet yours and he sees it clearly. He’s known you for too long. Playing “hide and seek” isn’t possible with him.
Tears are brimming at your lashes and you wonder that after all the crying you are able to produce even more drops of sorrow and sadness. There’s no bravery left inside of you. So you let him go and see the red impression on his wrist. No regrets are flooding through your body. You aren’t better as the villains you wanted to fight. You are the same. The hate, the pain, has eaten your soul away. There’s only a black hole left now. You aren’t standing at the edge of the abyss anymore, you have fallen into a long time ago. And all your ghosts of the past are laughing at you, are threatening you.
“I thought it’s forbidden.”
It is. You nod and see his furrowed brow. Gogogoleavemealone. Don’t try to help me, you want to say, but you can’t form a coherent sentence anymore. Your heart can’t possibly break because of what has happened.
“You are strong”
“No I am not”
“You will survive”
“Not without you”
He is interrupting your thoughts by whispering your name. He is afraid of touching you anymore. Because you are not his possession. The man who has loved you, who has left you, who has destroyed you, isn’t him. The love for the man, who has left only the hollow shell of the old Sydney Bristow, was never his.
Standing up, you take the folded letter out of your bag. It isn’t long. It isn’t full of false promises and unrealistic wishes. It’s pure and simple. Like you always wanted to be. But that’s not who you are. That’s not who you both are.
“Could you give it to him?”
He isn’t sure. So you use your last acting-abilities and present him with a look that would even melt your own father.
“Okay.”
The moment you give the piece of paper from your hands, is like you can’t breathe anymore. It’s like you can’t think anymore. He has destroyed you. He has shattered your broken heart and soul.
You slip your black coat on and glide your fingers through the fine strands of blonde hair. Removing the big sunglasses out of your bag you stalk away.
Away from this life. Away from him. Away from your hopeless dreams. Goodbye is never easy. But you know that you will do good by leaving them. They deserve to live a life without you.
“Bye Will“, you whisper, but he can’t hear you. The cold walls wouldn’t echo your words. The only sound is his irritated breathing and the clicking of your heels on the cement-floor. Will deserved better. You have never deserved a friend like him. Reaching the door, you push it open and feel the fresh breeze of air.
“Wait Sydney. What should I tell Vaughn if he asks me about you?“
You pause. Mere seconds. Your breath hitches.
One. Two. Three. No words anymore.
You walk on.
Life has changed. And it definitely doesn‘t include Michael Vaughn anymore.
***
tbc...
Please review! You know, just click on this little button and wirte a few words down
Love, Danuta