Train Wreck

A/N: I know that my readers have been wanting me to update my other stories (which I will get to very soon) but this idea was in my head and I couldn't fight it any longer. I get my new computer in a week and ditch this old, virus-infested felgercarb-box, so I'll update then. This is another AU story, taking place when Sydney is in high school. Sydney is a... well... I don't want to give too much away. You'll discover as you read. Vaughn is her substitute teacher who shows just a *little* too much concern towards her, which ultimately leads to other things. Hopefully, this satisfies my readers and my muse. Enjoy, Train Wreck

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Chapter 1--



Life seemed so pointless at times like these. She knew she had been taught to think otherwise-- eight months being taught otherwise-- but she couldn’t help it. It was hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel when the tunnel was really a labyrinth built to keep people from finding that light. To keep her from finding her light.

“You’re fine,” her father spoke.

It was a statement, rather than a question. She really wasn’t, but nobody dared to think the truth, out of fear that the truth would make things too complicated. The truth of the truth was that there was nothing complicated about it. People went through life, choosing to believe what they will, refusing to face the one, simple truth, the universal truth; that when you close your eyes, you have to open them sometime, and when you do, nothing really changes.

Everybody, except for her.

“I know,” she lied.

There was momentary silence that seemed to stretch out for ages. There was nothing awkward about it, the silence her and her father shared and embraced. Their silence spoke louder than both of them and their words ever could, making their positions very clear.

“Then get going.”

It was a process of baby steps; walking before running; testing the water before diving into the darkness of the unknown. Of course, there were those who progressed faster than others, those who learned to run before they learned to walk and those who did a cannonball into the frigid waters, the cold never bothering them, and splashing the onlookers in the course. She was one of them.

“You need to slow down, Sydney.”

Those words echoed in her mind. Maybe she was right. Maybe she did need to go back to the basics and reset. Now was her only chance at a fresh beginning and golden opportunity. She could dive in like she always did with everything else, only to regret her actions later when she realized that everybody else was still at the side and she was in the deep end, alone. Or, she could dip her toe in and slowly get used to the idea that everything was different and nothing was as it appeared. She could learn what she was diving into, adjust, then slowly begin to become one with her surroundings, starting shallow and going deeper.

Then again, that was never any fun.

Stepping out of the car, she gave her father a longing look. She had wanted him to say something like, “Have a good first day,” or, “Good luck at school today,” but their familiar silence took the place of her wish. It always did, because in the end, wants meant nothing and all that mattered was what could and would be done to survive. She had learned that and accepted that long ago; wanting everything and expecting nothing, but still holding onto the tiniest shard of hope; hope for that one day, that “Good first day” would come.

“So this is my new home?” she asked herself, as she heard the engine of her father’s car and felt the loss of its presence as it sped away, “I guess I’m trading one prison for another.”

It didn’t matter where she went, it was all a prison to her. She was a prisoner of herself; a prisoner of her mind, of her hope and of her fear. A prisoner of everything she had ever learned and everything she would come to learn, just like every other living, breathing person on this earth was. It all came around, full circle, the irony like a cruel joke told too many times; seemingly funny at first, but annoying as hell when the harshness of the joke takes its desired effect and we’re reminded of that severity seven times over.

The tiny suitcase she had at her side was lighter than one most people would carry. Come to think of it, it was much lighter. For someone with nothing but baggage, she carried nearly nothing with her. It wasn’t because she didn’t need it, but because she didn’t have anything to fill a suitcase up with, except for some clothes, a couple of books and her journal. It was all she had and all she needed to survive; again, about survival.

Unfolding the piece of now sweaty and crumpled paper which was clenched in her palm, she read the number off of it, looking around at her surroundings. It was your typical, rich private school, just like all of the other ones her father used to send her to, until she took her… leave.

As she made her way towards the dorms, she wondered if she’d have a roommate. She had had one at her last school and they didn’t get along very well. Julia was her name and she was very narcissistic. In her opinion, the world stopped when she did, and Sydney just rolled her eyes.

“I wonder if the dunce who puts us together even bothers to read our files.”

If he did, he would have learned that Julia and Sydney were polar opposites, ultimately leading to Sydney’s expulsion and Julia’s concussion and six stitches to the head.

“I can only hope for the best.”

Hope. There again, with that fruitless yet comforting word. The whole ideal of hope was ridiculous, yet so many people, even she, were guilty of getting by on it. It was impossible not to, and it was the only thing that brightened her labyrinth, acting as her candle. As soon as that candle blew out, she’d be alone in the dark with the monsters, which she understood and accepted, but still feared, all the same.

“I guess this is the building,” she thought, staring the structure up and down.

It wasn’t too big and it wasn’t too small; she hated big buildings, because she always seemed to get lost in the space and with small buildings, it was too easy to be found.

Hoisting her backpack over her shoulders and dragging her suitcase across the ground, she pushed through the glass doors. Looking back down at the slip of paper, she read her number off and memorized it.

“Room 47 A,” she chanted, it becoming a mantra on her lips.

Staring at the ceiling, a small sign hung down a few inches, indicating that the first fifty rooms were to the left, with rooms fifty-one through one-hundred to the right. The second floor had the same setup, with rooms one-hundred and one through two-hundred. The third floor was the lounge, the fourth a rec center complete with a pool, and then the roof was open to all students as well.

“Sounds basic enough,” she decided, heading to the left.

Nearing the end of the hallway, she finally found 47 A, sighing in relief that she hadn’t made a scene yet. She would just slip into her room, unpack her things, and enjoy a quiet evening alone… if her roommate would permit it.

Sliding her key into the lock and opening what would be her home for the next year, her eyes widened slightly and she couldn’t help but crack a little smile. Nice was an exception; the room looked like a really nice hotel suite.

“Looks like daddy got his money worth,” she noted, dropping her bags by the door and shutting it.

A queen-sized bed occupied the room, as well as a large, oak desk set, a television set, a phone, and even a couch. The bathroom was off the left as soon as you entered the room, and her smile grew wider when she realized the singular bed.

“One may be the loneliest number, but it finishes first every time.”

Walking over to the phone, she picked it up, pulled the cord out of the wall and tossed it in the nearby garbage can, “I won’t be needing you.”

She sat on the bed, running her fingers over the sheets; beige, floral print, followed by other semi-dark yet vibrant colors. The room on its own was nice, but bare. It didn’t bother her, since she had nothing else to put in it. Hell, her room at home was basically a box with a bed and a desk. She had gotten along just fine with that.

Walking back over to her suitcase, she tore through her things, not caring about neatness or where they ended up; nobody was going to be in this room anyway, so why did they care what it looked like? Finding the object of her desire, she grabbed her journal and her favourite pen, making her way over to the desk and grabbing a seat in the office chair.

Now for her favourite time of day.

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“I think you’ll find the students are more than helpful,” the principal Arvin Sloane said, placing a hand on his back.

“I hope so, since I’m just as new to this as most of them are,” he laughed.

Michael Vaughn had just been called last week to cover for a teacher at one of the most prestigious private schools in all of America for an entire semester. Apparently, the woman had had some medical problems over the summer and was due in surgery, as well as vigorous therapy. It surprised him, since he had only taught at a handful of other schools. Why would they call on him? Surely there were more experienced teachers they could find in LA.

“You should fit right in,” Arvin said, reassuring him one more time.

Vaughn nodded, as he and Principal Sloane finished their conversation and he headed towards the teachers’ quarters. Most, if not all of the students had arrived today and were getting settled. The new school year started tomorrow, Vaughn as one of the new English teachers. Checking his watch, it read 7:34pm. Most of the teachers would be at their quarters, too.

Entering the building, he noticed many teachers sitting around a coffee table, discussing what appeared to be their new classes and preparations. Most of them were older and middle-aged, but there was a handful of young ones there, much like him. A young man and woman stuck out right away, the woman smiling at him and the man signaling for him to come over, which he did.

“You must be Vaughn,” the man said, “Eric Weiss. I’m new here, too.”

Vaughn smiled and sighed, shaking Weiss’ hand, “Thank God. I felt like I was on a cruise or in a bingo hall.”

The blonde next to him laughed, covering her mouth. Vaughn turned to her, “And what about you?”

“Lauren Reed,” she said, her voice thick with her British accent, “This is my second year returning. I‘m a Chemistry teacher.”

“Nice to meet you,” he replied.

“You must be the new English teacher?” she asked.

“Yeah, that would be me. To be honest, I’m a little nervous,” he laughed.

“Don’t be. This is basically just like any other high school across the country; you have the clicks and the hormonal teenagers. The only difference is that there is a higher abundance of uptight snobs and loaded parents who flip out when it comes to their kids,” Weiss joked.

Vaughn could already tell that Weiss was the funny guy and new that they would become great friends, “What do you teach?”

“I, my friend, happen to teach the most important and interesting class of them all.”

“He’s a Gym teacher,” Lauren cut him off.

Vaughn and Lauren both starting laughing, “Hey, its Physical Education and it happens to be very important! Do you know the rate of obesity in teenagers these days? Its ridiculous!”

“We’re just teasing you, man!” Vaughn said, still laughing, slapping Weiss on the shoulder.

“You know those hormonal, uptight teenagers he was talking about? He’s the worst one of them,” Lauren joked again.

Vaughn felt a little bit better, knowing he wasn’t completely alone here. After all, he was only twenty-one, which was very young for a teacher. He did always excel at school and was smarter than most people, so he figured he’d be fine. Weiss looked to be around the same age as him and so did Lauren.

Still, knowing this piece of information, something wouldn’t settle in his stomach. He felt like something… big, was going to start tomorrow. Like this school would prove to be more to him than just a simple teaching experience. He feared it, but was excited at the same time.

----------

The first day of school starts tomorrow. Most people would either be excited and happy to be back with their friends, or freaking out at the fact that summer was over. I am neither. Maybe it’s the pills they’ve got me on, or maybe its because I’ve just never been one for big hellos and long goodbyes. I don’t know and I don’t really care.

Father decided that this private school, Mount Subasio, would be good for me and a good way to introduce me back to the real world. I wonder how he could possibly think that, since it appears to be the same as every other school I’ve ever been to. Then again, looks aren’t everything. I know this better than anyone.

I have a feeling. I don’t know what it is, as I’ve never experienced it before. It’s a feeling of… endless possibilities. No, that sounds stupid. Well… I can’t really describe it any other way. Maybe things will be better than they’ve ever been, or maybe they’ll be much worse. Maybe those eight months in complete solitude will prove to be good for me, like she said they would be. I don’t know what the future holds. Nobody does.

I can’t help but feel that this school will be much more than just another school, though. This feeling… it scares me… and excites me. I’ll write more tomorrow.

-Sydney
 
wow i was so cautious at first to read this thinkin it was some season 5 fic where vaughn watches syd die or something but omg so far this whole thing sounds amazing
i cannot wait to find out where and what happened to syd
oh and vaughn and syd relationship should be so intresting
i wish lauren was nadia though then we'd definatly have no reason to be scared that she would try to steal vaughn
sounds terific please keep on a pm list
~dani
 
ohhh let me guess? syd clobbered some chick with something and had to go to a mental place... now shes back 'in the real world'... hmm
VERY different. Cool

pm pleas?e
 
Interesting beginning. I'm wondering if Lauren will try to be a love interest in this story or just remain friends. If you have a PM list for this story, please add me to it.

Chris
 
you've hooked me with syd's apparent craziness and vaughn's young age...though... does that make weiss and lauren genius' too cuz he's one, being a teacher at 21 n all? anyway...pm please
 
you've hooked me with syd's apparent craziness and vaughn's young age...though... does that make weiss and lauren genius' too cuz he's one, being a teacher at 21 n all? anyway...pm please

Well, they're not "geniuses," but they are smarter than most. The thing was, Sydney is supposed to be 16, and if I made Vaughn any older than he already was... that would be more than wrong. I know of teachers who are, like, 23 or 24, but 21 is a tad young. It just worked out ;)
 
A/N: Next chapter! For future references, all flashbacks/dreams will be in bold, while all the journal entries are in italics. Enjoy! :woot: :D ;)

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Chapter 2--



“Sydney, I want you to listen to the tone.”

“Why?”

“Just listen and tell me what you feel or the first thing that pops into your mind.”

She closed her eyes, listening to the steady, electronic tone.

BEEEP.

BEEEP.

BEEEP.



“felgercarb!” she shouted, bolting straight up in bed. She turned to look at the clock, bringing it close to make sure it wasn’t playing some kind of trick on her. The neon red numbers screamed in her face, laughing at her; it was 9:45am, and she had to be sitting in class in fifteen minutes,

“gorram it!” she said, throwing it onto the floor.

She ran to her suitcase, digging through the pile of felgercarb to find something decent to wear. Pulling out a pair of black Dickies, a black, sleeveless top and her favorite pair of arm warmers. She didn’t have time for a shower or to do her makeup, but she couldn’t go to school looking completely unfortunate. Running into the bathroom, she quickly brushed her hair and teeth and washed her face. At least she was as clean as the time would permit.

“My first frackin day, and I’m already going to be late!” she thought, grabbing her backpack.

She paused momentarily, contemplating whether or not she should show up. She would make a fool out of herself, but what did she care what people thought? She’d only be behind in her classes, which she didn’t need, so she quickly abandoned those thoughts and ran out the door.

Her first class was English with a Miss Carlinda Avery. Her first thought was that this must have been another middle-aged, drunken old woman who had been divorced and her husband took everything they owned, resulting in her wallowing in her own self pity and using alcohol to drown out her problems. She didn’t know why, but that was the feeling she got.

“She’s probably a bitch,” she sighed, “Which means she won’t let this slide, either.”

Staying in her room started to seem like an even better idea, but she was already half-way across campus, so she might as well have walked the other half. She couldn’t go back to sleep, either, which meant she would sit in her own loneliness for the entire day, and however enticing that sounded, it would be taking a step back.

----------

“Great. Just great,” Michael Vaughn said, messaging his forehead, “I was just there yesterday. Where the hell did my room go?”

Still new, he felt like a complete idiot, being a teacher and not knowing where his own room was. He was in the proper building, he knew that much, but what floor? All of the students were in their classes and when he checked his watch, noticing it was 8:57am, he really doubted he’d still see someone in the hall.

“My first day. What an idiot.”

He leaned against the wall, trying to think of what to do. If he skipped class all together, he would more than likely lose his job and the students would be sent home. If he went to class, there was a chance he could have gotten in trouble and his students would think he was a complete moron. What a choice.

Turning the corner to continue looking, he was stopped when the force of another human body came colliding into his, knocking whoever it was to the ground. Momentarily stunned, he shook his had and opened his eyes to see a young female student, sitting on the floor, staring back at him.

“I’m so sorry! It was my fault! Forgive me!” he said, quickly apologizing and extending a hand, “Here.”

She looked at his hand and took a moment to study it, before a scowl crossed her face and she slapped his hand away, “I don’t need your charity and I don’t want it, either!”

“Oh… kay?” he asked, not knowing what to say. Usually, a student would have been punished for such behavior, he was sure. But this was his first day on the job and her first day of classes and he didn’t want to look like an asshole. That, and he felt bad for knocking her over.

He took a moment to take her details in more thoroughly; chocolate eyes, which seemed to repress a deep anger and sadness for someone so young. She couldn’t be more than sixteen, so what could be the source of such anger? He finished inspecting her face, her high cheekbones, full lips, and lack of makeup. It was odd for a girl her age not to be wearing makeup, but he liked it; it emphasized her natural beauty, not like most teenage girls, who piled the felgercarb on. Her hair was long, flowing just past her shoulders and it was a beautiful shade of un-dyed brown, which had also become uncommon among teenagers.

Then, he noticed something; arm warmers. She was wearing arm warmers towards the end of the summer.

“Why are you wearing those?” he asked, pointing to them, “Its, like, ninety-five degrees in here. You must be sweating!”

“Mind your own business!” she snapped, “I don’t need you scrutinizing me! It makes me uncomfortable, when people watch!”

“Damn! She’s a real feisty one!” Vaughn thought, “It was an accident, and I did say I was sorry. Why is she so angry?”

“Easy, firecracker--”

“Don’t call me that!” she interrupted.

Having no idea how to deal with someone like her, he scratch the back of his head, staring at her, clueless, “Have I… offended you? If I have, I’m terribly sorry, but--”

“Just leave me alone! I don’t want to talk to you and I‘m late for class!”

With that, she pushed by him and disappeared around the corner, leaving him staring in awe at the explosion that had just gone off, wondering if he had somehow initiated it.

“I didn’t think I was too mean.”

Weiss had warned him about the snotty, hormonal teenagers, but that girl didn’t look or act like someone who was snotty or hormonal. She truly was angry and it didn’t take a shrink to realize that she needed some kind of help or attention.

“I wonder who she was,” he said, picking up his brief case, “I want to know more.”

----------

Running to shield herself behind the concrete corner, she sighed and sunk to the ground. She was glad that he stopped talking to her. Most people would think that the solitude drove her crazy, but it didn’t. She basked in it and lived in it; it was the company that made her uncomfortable.

For the first time in forever, somebody had actually noticed. Somebody had actually acknowledged her existence. It wasn’t that nobody ever knew she was there. No, it was quite the contrary; everybody knew when she was in the room. How could they not? They all stared and pointed, laughed or gasped, turned around to secretly tear her apart with their friends or shut their mouth in fear. She got noticed a lot. But he was the first person to actually notice her.

She didn’t take well to apologies and kindness. At one point, she had hoped for it, but when she realized it wasn’t coming, she decided to shower others in it, and when that just made her feel worse, she had given up on it, all together.

“Forget it. Ignore it. Move on.”

Dragging herself to her feet, she finally made it to class. Of course, all eyes were on her as she swiftly and silently made her way into the classroom. Finding two empty seats at the back on the class, she through her backpack on one and sat down in the other, closing her eyes and blocking their out.

The bell had run five minutes ago, but there was no teacher in the classroom. Perhaps she wasn’t going to get in trouble, after all. She didn’t really care who her teacher was, as long as it wasn’t…

“I’m sorry, everyone.”

She nearly fell off her chair, opening her eyes and springing up to see the man from earlier.

“You don’t look like Miss Avery,” one girl said, laughter stirring throughout the classroom.

“No, I’m not, as you can see,” he said, smiling, “I’m Mr. Vaughn. I’m subbing for Miss Avery for the semester. It seem she had some kind of medical crisis.”

She buried her head in her hands, groaning loudly. Everybody turned to look at her like the freak she was, except for him. When he saw her, a look of shock crossed his face.

“Oh!” he said, “You’re the firecracker from earlier!”

“Don’t call me that…,” she said, her voice low and in a threatening manner.

“Firecracker? Are you sure you don’t mean fire-starter?” a boy asked, causing the whole class to burst into laughter.

“Who didn’t see that one coming?” she thought, rolling her eyes.

Suddenly, he understood why she didn’t like to be called that, “I’m sorry… what’s your name?”

“Who cares!” the same boy said, eliciting more laughter from the crowd.

“And what’s yours?” Vaughn asked, annoyed.

“Jimmy.”

“Jimmy? Why don’t you go and get acquainted with your new fire-starting friend, since that’s your new seat for the rest of the semester,” he said, pointing to the seat next to her.

Both of their eyes widened.

“But, sir--”

“Don’t do that!” she shouted, saying more words than she had in her entire last year of school.

The entire class turned to look at her again, then at Jimmy, then at Vaughn. He was dead serious.

“I can’t sit next to her! She’ll kill me in my sleep!” he complained.

“No, I’ll kill you while you’re wide awake.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Now go,” Vaughn said, his voice dead-serious.

Jimmy grabbed his belongings and dragged his feet across the floor, over to his new desk right beside her. Hesitantly sitting down, he turned to look at her, an almost frightened look on his face. She was looking down, carving something into her desk. Noticing she was staring, she turned to face him, “Can I help you, dick weed?”

“Oh, frack me!” he muttered, “And don’t ever talk to me again, or I’ll have you arrested.”

“Likewise.”

“That’s enough out of both of you!” Vaughn interjected, “Now, what’s your name?”

Staring him in the eyes for a few minutes, she realized that he wasn’t going to back down like most teachers. Sighing in defeat, she finally replied, “Sydney Bristow.”

He smiled, “Thank you, Sydney. Its nice to meet you.”

She said nothing in return, simply put her head down and stared into her artificial darkness. This semester was going to be great fun, she could already tell.

----------

The weird guy who tried to be nice to me this morning turned out to be my English teacher. He tried so hard, but its such a pity. I wish someone would tell him its hopeless. He even tried to stop people from talking by putting this asshole name Jimmy next to me. He doesn’t realize what a huge mistake he’s made, and that he’s changed nothing; people talk. People always will.

I don’t really have much else to say about my first day, aside from that fatal coincidence. In a nutshell, it sucked. But this teacher… I have a feeling he’s not going to just let me drift through English in a comatose state, like all the others. We’ll see.

-Sydney
 
Sydney has some real issues. She may have had some run ins with people in the past, but that doesn't give her an excuse to treat a teacher so badly. I'm beginning to understand why Sydney gets moved from school to school.

Thanks for the PM.

Chris
 
don’t really have much else to say about my first day, aside from that fatal coincidence. In a nutshell, it sucked. But this teacher… I have a feeling he’s not going to just let me drift through English in a comatose state, like all the others. We’ll see.

-Sydney
hmm...this intrigues me. I wonder what is up with syd. thanks for the pm
 
i hope he doesnt let her do that either!
i hope that he is able to help her escape her solitude state!
thanks for the PM :D
cant wait for more :P update soon!
 
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