Peaceful

Author: Janet (SkyGirl5)

Genre: S/V, AU

Summary: Getting through the holiday season will be nearly impossible for the newly widowed Sydney Bristow. All she can do is pray and draw on her family for strength. However, come Christmas morning, she will recieve the shock of a lifetime that might just change the whole atmosphere of the season.

Author's Note: Entry in AllAlias.com's Holiday Fiction Challenge.

Disclaimer: Sydney, Vaughn, etc are properties of JJ Abrams and ABC.

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Chapters 1-6 + Epilogue

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Chapter 1

With a log ablaze, cracking and popping, before her, Sydney Bristow sat surrounded by boxes and bags on her living room floor. The heat emanating from the fireplace was a welcome contrast to the chill outside; it made sitting on the floor bearable, even if she was still wrapped up in a blanket, trying to decide which glass ornaments should be the ones to decorate her Christmas tree. The classic Christmas carols softly floating through the room were not adding Christmas cheer as she had intended. Instead, they were doing just the opposite. The songs that sang of spending Christmas with a loved one only added to the tears threatening to fall from her eyes at the realization it would be her first Christmas without him.

When deciding between the green spheres with reindeer on them or the blue with glittering white Christmas trees became too much, she stood and pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders. As she paced around her couch, sniffing back tears, her fingers drifted towards the silver locket dangling around her neck. The pendant was a gift from the previous Christmas and a memory of a happier time. Inside was a picture of the two of them, she and the man she loved, taken on the one month anniversary of their dating relationship. On that date, three years earlier, she had no way of knowing the events that would befall her in the months to come. Then again, even if she had known, she would not have changed her path in life; the pain she suffered was worth those beautiful times with him a million times over.

When Sydney first laid eyes upon Michael Vaughn, they were young, naïve twenty-something’s filled with idealistic views of their lives ahead. Both fresh out of college, they were attending a local Fourth of July celebration with their respective friends. Sydney spotted Michael across a crowded walkway while she was munching on some caramel popcorn. He was playing a typical carnival game, which he won, earning him the manly prize of a bright pink stuffed bear. She watched as his friends teased his reward, laughing and throwing playful punches at his shoulder. Then, she saw the most peculiar thing, something she would always remember.

As he stood there being ridiculed, a few feet away a little girl around the age of seven was eating an ice cream cone. A boy, who appeared to be in his early teens, walked up behind her and hit her squarely on the head causing her face to crash into her ice cream cone, which subsequently tumbled to the ground. Naturally, the girl burst into tears. Upon seeing this, Michael simply walked over to her, handed her the bear with a smile, and then walked away. It was then and there that Sydney fell in love with Michael.

Later that same day, the two were formally introduced while waiting in line for the go karts. They chatted and became acquainted with each other before sharing their first kiss under the colorful bursts of fireworks that night. From that point on, they were almost never separated.

Their relationship progressed at a steady pace, being the first of a very serious nature for both of them. A year into their courtship, they began discussing marriage, though the actual proposal did not occur until just a few months shy of their two year anniversary. Shortly thereafter, they decided to buy a house together, much to the disapproval of their parents. Sydney and Michael knew what they were doing though; they were going to marry and raise their family in that house and it was going to be wonderful. Sadly, they would never get a chance for ‘wonderful’.

A year earlier, on Christmas Day, Michael’s family received the most unthinkable news; his younger brother, Adam, had been killed while on duty in Iraq. Naturally, the Vaughn family was ripped apart by the loss of their loved one, but to make matters even worse, Michael somehow got it in his head that he needed to continue Adam’s work. Adam was a firm believer that what the United States was doing in Iraq was for the best and was one hundred percent the right thing. The rest of his family was slightly more skeptical, but they supported him nonetheless. However, none of them supported Michael’s decision to enlist in the army when he had a stable job and a life of his own. This did not change Michael’s mind at all though, and he went right off to boot camp.

Sydney was horrified by his decision, especially with the tragic loss of Adam fresh in her mind. She begged, cried, and pleaded with him, but it was no use. She even threatened to leave him, hoping it would cause him to stay, but Michael was steadfast. She would never make good on her threat, but in the end she was left alone destined, she feared, to become a war almost-widow.

For a while, she believed things would be alright. That was until she found herself face to face with two men dressed in Army uniforms on her doorstep, a folded triangular shaped flag and a Purple Heart medal in their hands. All her family agreed that she was amazingly strong through the whole ordeal. Sadly, the same could not be said for Michael’s mother, who was understandably devastated beyond recovery at the loss of her two sons to the same war in such a short time period.

In the five months since his death, Sydney managed to keep her head held high, but with the holiday season, she just could not continue her strong stance. Between putting up her Christmas tree alone, shopping for presents for only her sister, parents and not him, and making cookies just for herself it all hit her; it was like losing him all over again. He was never coming back, and that was a thought she was not quite sure she would be able to handle.



Chapter 2

When Sydney glanced over at the clock and saw through her tears that it was after eight, she tried her best to pull herself together; she needed to finish her Christmas tree decorating or else it would go on all night. She made her way back to the pile of ornaments on her floor and sat down to decide which colored glass ball should adorn each bough of the tree beside her.

As she carefully chose each ornament and placed it upon the evergreen she purchased, the smallest tree on the lot, the memories of Christmases past washed over her once more. Not all of them were sad though, simply overshadowed by the bittersweet feeling surrounding every holiday this year; every holiday she would spend without him.

She recalled childhood Christmases, one especially. She was nine-years-old, her younger sister Nadia, seven, and the two of them had volunteered to help their mother decorate the tree. Their mother agreed, and the two sisters excitedly began laying out ornaments, deciding which would go where on the branches. In their excitement, they were not as careful as they should have been and they ended up knocking over a box of ornaments, breaking every one. Luckily, the box only contained three instead of the nine that fit in it, but the sisters were scolded nonetheless.

The next Christmas she remembered was one from her teenage years. Her boyfriend at the time, Chip, was over at her house and the two of them were indulging in the holiday atmosphere on the couch. Her sister, who was angry at her for a reason she no longer remembered, informed their parents that Sydney was shirtless on the couch with her boyfriend, who was equally undressed. Of course this was not true at all, but Sydney was still lectured to the point of death because of it.

After that, the recollection of her first Christmas with Michael floated through her mind. Their relationship was just in the beginning stages then, but they still had a wonderful time ice skating together and kissing under the mistletoe. The image of Michael’s sparkling green eyes and irresistible smile fueled the tears in her eyes once more.

Every time she thought of him, the guilt stemming from her anger towards his actions formed a great lump in her throat. She was furious that he had chosen to do something that, in her opinion and in the opinion of many others, was essentially a suicide mission. Michael would hear none of it though. He was determined and that stubborn attitude led to many fights between them: most notably, the fight that occurred just a few days before his untimely death.

As was to be expected, communication from the battlefields of Iraq was sporadic at best. Mostly, it was in the form of email, though Sydney did receive two highly cherished phone calls. Hearing his voice over the crackling connection was almost a miracle, yet at the same time it was heart wrenching; it reminded her just how much she missed him.

During that last phone call, Sydney asked Michael how long it would be until they saw each other face to face once more. Since he had only been in Iraq a few months, Michael had absolutely no way of knowing when an opportunity for leave would arise. Furious, Sydney retorted in anger that perhaps she was not willing to wait for him, all alone; maybe she wanted to find someone else. Naturally this sparked an argument, which was cut short when Michael’s time using the phone was up. The last words they spoke were those of spite, not of love, and she would never ever get a chance to take them back; that was what ate her up inside when she spent nights staring at the ceiling instead of sleeping.

For the most part, despite her thoughts of Christmases past, Sydney was able to keep her emotions in check. She hummed along to the songs playing over the radio and hung each ornament, each piece of tinsel, each string of popcorn with care. Her tree was nothing out of a Martha Stewart catalog, but she thought it looked very nice, which was the most important thing. When she came to the final box, though, she could not stop the tears from drifting down her cheeks.

Years earlier, while she and Michael were strolling through an outdoor shopping mall, they came upon an shop full off all sorts of different decorations and gifts that Sydney deemed to be adorable. She dragged Michael inside and began to peruse the items while he complained about the smell of potpourri assailing his nostrils and thus nauseating him. In that store, she found the most beautiful snowflake ornament she had ever laid eyes on. Its soft silver and blue sparkles made it seem as though it had been plucked right from the heavens and set into that velvet lined box on the store shelves. She wanted it immediately, but upon seeing the price tag changed her mind; it was too expensive for something so frivolous.

Weeks later, completely out of the blue, Michael came home with a present just for her. It was not her birthday or any other holiday that would warrant a gift; it was just because. When she opened the carefully wrapped package, she found the snowflake and was amazed that he had remembered.

That gift was just a glimpse into the romanticism Michael possessed in his character. He was always surprising her with little presents, even if it was just a chocolate bar he picked up on the way home. Sydney knew no matter what the cost of the item he presented her, whether it was fifty cents or fifty dollars, it was simply a representation of his devotion to her, and that certainly could never have a price tag on it.

Ever since receiving her beloved snowflake, Sydney used it to decorate for Christmas. It was too special to use year round, she determined; however, it was perfect for the holiday season. After she and Michael purchased a home of their own the previous year, they bought a real Christmas tree for the first time. Sydney decided that it would be perfect for her extra special ornament to adorn the top of that tree, though she made sure to tie it on very securely so that it would not fall off and shatter.

As she held the glittering snowflake in her palm, her heart began to ache even more than it had over the previous five months. She was not sure how she was going to be able to stand looking at that symbol atop her tree for the three weeks leading up to Christmas, but she knew she would have to; her tree would simply not be complete without it.

As she stood atop a chair that enabled her to reach the top of the tree, she missed him more than ever. He would have tried to reach it without the chair, which would have been impossible, since he was only a few inches taller than she. In the process, he would probably almost fall over on top of the tree. Then, she would scold him for being a ‘stubborn man’ and he would grumble and grunt at her, pretending to be offended. Half an hour later, they would make up with a warm kiss and he would concede to being a stubborn man. It was their ‘thing’ and she missed it so badly sometimes she felt as though she could not even breathe.

With the snowflake in its position, Sydney stepped down to observe her handiwork. The tree was perfect. As she began picking up the now empty ornament boxes, a glint from the tree caught her eye. It was the sparkles within the snowflake reflecting off the moonlight filtering through the nearby windows. They shone specks of light onto the ceiling, which danced around in circles. This was yet another reminder of him.

One of Michael’s favorite things to do was to use a stream of sunlight or, in this case, moonlight and a reflecting surface, such as a mirror or a watch face to send beams of light shining around the room. If possible, he would send them directly towards Sydney’s face to annoy her, in a playful way, of course. Naturally, this was one of the things about him that irritated her, until it no longer happened and she missed it terribly.

Looking back at the tree, she saw the snowflake had slumped to one side and was no longer standing up tall. She climbed back onto the chair and adjusted it so that it was perfect once more. Dragging her fingertips along the smooth surface she let out a long exhale. At that moment, the snowflake seemed more like a star, which was one of the traditional signs of the Christmas season; the North Star, a peaceful, guiding light for the entire world. This snowflake was going to be the sparkling instrument that shined above her living room, so in a way it was like her very own North Star.

Glancing heavenward, Sydney’s heart traveled up into her throat as two tears dripped down her cheeks. “I hope you’ve found peace,” she said softly, truly meaning every word. Then, with that, she climbed off the chair and continued to clean up the boxes strewn about.



Chapter 3

“Merry Christmas Eve, Sweetheart,” Jack Bristow greeted his daughter when she arrived for their holiday celebrations.

“Thanks Dad,” Sydney said as she brushed the snowflakes from her hair. She shivered slightly from the difference in temperature between the frigid outside and the warm interior of her parent’s home before she set down the gift bags she carried and stepped into her father’s open embrace.

“How are you?” he asked softly.

“I’m okay,” she nodded. These days, ‘okay’ was the only thing she could confidently say about her mood and she feared that was as good as it would ever get.

“Jesus, it’s snowing already. I thought we weren’t supposed to get that blizzard ‘til tonight,” Nadia exclaimed as she gave her sister a hug while dusting some excess snow from her back.

“We’re getting a blizzard?” Sydney questioned with a raised eyebrow. True, she had not heard a news report that morning, but last she’d heard, they were only supposed to receive flurries and perhaps a passing heavier snow storm. However, reports said there would be no more than one or two inches of accumulation.

“Your sister is being an alarmist; there is no blizzard,” her father informed her. Then he walked off towards the back of the house at the sound of his wife’s calls.

“How ya hangin’ in there, Sis?” Nadia asked with a sympathetic smile.

“Oh you know, I cry at least once a day, but I figure that’s completely normal given the circumstances,” Sydney said with a slight laugh. Nadia gave her a rather sad look before pulling her into an extra tight hug.

“It’ll be okay, Sis; I promise,” Nadia smiled at her. “Do you want me to come down tomorrow and-”

“No, no,” Sydney shook her head. “You don’t have to do that… I mean, you’ll be busy with Henry and you don’t want to hang around me. I’ll just suck the mood right down.”

“But I don’t want you to be alone on Christmas. I spend like every other day with Henry…,” she said referring to her live-in boyfriend. Of course, only Sydney was aware of the live-in part. Nadia had wisely chosen not to inform her parents of that little detail, recalling the less than positive reaction when Sydney and Michael moved in together after they were engaged.

“I’ll be fine, really,” Sydney assured her. “Just give me a call or something; no need to stop by.”

“Alright,” Nadia said in a rather uncertain tone. Sydney gave her a rather forced smile before following in the footsteps her father had just taken so that she could greet her mother.

“Oh Sydney, you’re wearing that red sweater I bought you. Good, good. You really need to start wearing more colors instead of black and navy blue. Honestly, this isn’t the nineteenth century; women in morning do not need to display it,” her mother said.

Sydney managed to hold in every comment she wanted to make as she watched her sister roll her eyes dramatically. While Sydney’s mother was initially very supportive after Michael’s death, as any parent would have been, somewhere in between the second and third month afterwards her sympathy began to dissipate. For some reason unbeknown to Sydney, her sister or her father, her mother began to regard her mourning as annoying and unnecessary. After all, in her mother’s mind, Michael was just her boyfriend. She acted as though the two of them had only been together for a few months. In that case, while losing someone that way would be sad, it did not warrant very much mourning at all. Sydney chose to ignore these opinions, though; she knew all too well that her mother could never understand just how much more Michael was to her.

“Mom, get off Sydney’s back, okay? It’s Christmas,” Nadia said in a futile attempt to rescue her sister. Her mother merely held up her hands in defeat before turning back to the stove.

“Sydney, did you decorate your house at all this year?” her father asked in an attempt to change the subject.

“Yeah, I got a little tree and decorated it. I didn’t put any lights on the lawn though,” she said, letting her voice drift off. The previous year, Michael had taken to decorating their front yard with lights. He claimed it was the man’s job, and Sydney did not bother to fight him on the issue; it was cold outside!

Their display that year was by no means spectacular since Michael purchased too few lights and, by the time he went back to the store to get more, they were all out. Sydney didn’t mind though; it looked nice anyway. As she was decorating her tree a few weeks earlier, she considered putting a few lights around the bushes by the front porch on her house, but decided against it when she found the mangled mess of lights Michael left in their basement. Typical, she had thought at the time with a laugh, even if that laugh quickly faded only to be replaced with a heavy heart.

“Well that’s alright; I didn’t put any out this year either,” her father said.

“’s stupid,” Nadia commented from her spot across the kitchen table. “I mean, who wants their house to look like the friggin’ landing strip at Santa’s Christmas Village?”

Sydney could not help but laugh at this comment. “True.”

“Speaking of, have you seen the Henderson’s yard at night? It’s just dreadful!” their mother said with a disapproving tongue click. “They have some sort of revolving snow globe with spot lights… Honestly… there should be a neighborhood ordinance against it.” Sydney, Nadia and their father all exchanged eye rolls at this.

After a peaceful dinner, they moved into the family room, which was a more comfortable location for opening presents. There, the family exchanged gifts like they had been doing for the past twenty-five years. Everything was going wonderfully, Sydney was even laughing at the silly gifts her sister gave her solely for the purpose of making her laugh, until her mother brought up the taboo subject, that was.

“Well, this certainly was nice…be thankful that you didn’t buy any Christmas presents for Michael that you had to return,” she said.

“Mom,” Nadia warned.

“What?” Irina asked in an innocent voice. “It’s the truth! That would have been terrible.”

“You’re right. It would have been, unlike now, which is just fantastic,” Sydney snapped with sarcasm.

“I didn’t mean it that way…although, you should really use this as a chance to move on – the next year, I mean. You need too move on. I know you loved Michael, but he was just your fiancé and you’re still so young. Plus, it’s been over half a year and-”

“It has not been over half a year!” Sydney cut off her mother harshly. “It’s been five months and a week and Michael was not just my fiancé - he was my husband!” she blurted. At this, all the room’s occupants snapped their heads in her direction, their eyes wide. No one knew that secret; Sydney had kept it a secret from everyone, just as Michael asked her to.

“What are you talking about?” her mother asked curiously.

“You and Michael got married? When?” Nadia asked.

“March, after he came back from boot camp, right before he left for Iraq,” Sydney said quietly turning her eyes towards the floor. “When he came back, he said how a lot of the guys were finding someone to marry before they left. He thought it was silly to get married just for the sake of getting married…except we had already been planning a wedding before we even found out about Adam, so we talked about it and we went to city hall. The next morning, Michael felt kinda guilty because his mom wanted him to have a big wedding, so I told him we’d keep it a secret and have a nice wedding when he came b-back,” she said, squeaking slightly because of her tears on the last word. Her sister leaned forward to hug her, but Sydney held up her hand, indicating that she was alright.

After taking a moment to compose herself, Sydney looked her mother squarely in the eye. “He was my husband and I loved him more than anything, so I cannot just move on. I don’t know how I’m ever going to move on and, as my mother, I would have thought you could’ve appreciated that,” she snapped. Then she stood quickly and rushed out of the room.

After Nadia gave her mother a rather disapproving look, she left the room, bound to follow her sister. She ascended the stairs and found Sydney curled up on the bed located in her childhood room. Nadia sat down beside her sister and wrapped her arms around her, saying softly, “I know what she said was cruel…but I hate to admit she did have a tiny point. You have to let it go, Syd.”

Nadia was in no way talking about the grief her sister felt; she would never, ever tell her sister it was time to stop mourning. She, herself, had only recently begun to come around, for Michael had been like a brother to her. What she was referring to was Sydney’s fruitless belief that Michael was still alive.

The details of the events surrounding the death of Michael and the other members of the group he was traveling with were still hazy. One thing they knew for sure was that their convoy had been intercepted by a group of terrorists. While trying to escape, the car Michael and the others were traveling in ran over a roadside bomb and exploded. Everything within the car was burned beyond recognition, though some of the men were identifiable by their dog tags, or dental records. Michael, however, was not one of those men.

According to every record the army had, Michael was traveling in the car that exploded. Just because they were unable to recover his dog tags or remains to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt he was dead, did not mean they could not declare him so. It was entirely possible that every part of him was simply burned up; unidentifiable. Nadia knew, though, that deep down within Sydney there was a part of her that believed him to be alive just because there was no cold hard evidence to the contrary. She also knew that if her sister held onto this belief, it would only destroy her in the end.

“I know,” Sydney said in a ghostly voice. “But I… I don’t know how…”

“I know,” Nadia sighed softly, hugging her a little tighter. “I know…”



Chapter 4

For Sydney, the drive home from her parent’s house was utterly exhausting. Sometimes she forgot just how long the ninety minute trip could be, especially after an evening full of her mother’s negativity. Once she was home, all she had the energy to do was change into her pajamas and crash into bed. That was alright, though; she had no interest in watching any Christmas Eve television, which undoubtedly would have been dripping with loving happy families that would only succeed in making her cry. A nice, peaceful sleep was exactly what she needed to face the next day, which would arguably be the most difficult of the year.


The next morning, Sydney was painfully wrenched from her peaceful dreams of Santa Claus stuffing stockings with pounds and pounds of chocolate. In her sleepy state, it was difficult at first for her to tell what had woken her. After a few minutes of blinking through the blinding light filtering through the cracks at the edges of her window blinds, she realized it was something very simple: a snow blower. She glanced over at her clock and groaned immediately when she saw that it was barely after seven a.m.

Sliding from bed, she grabbed her robe and shuffled over to the window, wondering who in their right mind would be using a snow blower at such an ungodly hour on Christmas morning. She wrenched open the blinds and was immediately met with an agonizingly bright light. She blinked rapidly as her eyes watered, trying to adjust to the blinding light. It was then, as she wiped the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand, that she recalled her sister’s comments from the previous afternoon. Blizzard, Nadia had said blizzard, and judging by the fact that someone was using a snow blower and she was completely unable to see from the sunlight bouncing off the pure white fluff coating the ground, a blizzard had indeed befallen her quaint town. A white Christmas was a beautiful thing; however, it would have been appreciated much more had she been able to sleep in and enjoy it at a more reasonable hour.

When her eyes finally adjusted to the stark contract between her dark bedroom and the outdoor light, Sydney struggled to look down her street, trying to determine which of her neighbors was using the snow blower. She saw no one, yet the noise continued on. Grumbling with determination, she left her bedroom and hurried down the hallway to look out the opposite side of her house.

As she approached the top of the stairway, she heard the unmistakable sound of a snow shovel chipping a concrete sidewalk. When combined with the snow blower, this was not an unusual sound. However, the unusual part was that it sounded so very nearby. Confused, Sydney wrapped her robe more tightly around her body and shuffled her way down the steps. There, she squinted out the window beside her front door to see what was going on. Much to her surprise, she saw a shovelful of snow float by and land with a soft thump on the built up snow beneath the window.

“What the hell?” she wondered under her breath. Someone was shoveling her walk, which was a very nice gesture, but she wondered who would do such a thing. In order to answer this question, she rushed back upstairs to peer out the window of her bathroom, which would give a better view of the front yard. From that vantage point, she saw no car on the street or by her driveway, meaning it was most likely a neighbor who was shoveling her walk. She caught a glimpse of the mystery person wearing a heavy jacket and a woolen hat. However, because of the winter wear, it was impossible to tell the identity. Curiosity got the better of her, so she went back downstairs.

After cramming on her snow boots over her pajama pants, Sydney raised her garage door and began shuffling her way out through the snow that had tumbled inside. It appeared that a blanket of snow well over two feet had fallen the night before, which made it very difficult to walk. “Excuse me!” she called out. There was no response; maybe they didn’t hear her. “Excuse me! Who are you!? Are you aware it’s seven thirty in the morning?!” she shouted.

That time, the mystery individual turned around. With his hat and the scarf tied tightly around his neck, only the upper part of his nose and his eyes were visible. That’s all Sydney needed to identify him though, but surely…no, no it couldn’t be, but…was it? She tried to take a step closer as the breath hung in the back of her throat, but she could not; she was frozen stiff. She stared for what seemed an eternity before her heart jumped up into her neck and all the blood rushed from her head. Then, everything went dark.

~*~

When Sydney awoke, she sat up with a start in her bed. Her breathing was heavy and she looked around her surroundings frantically. Her robe was on the end of the bed where she’d left it, her pillow in its exact same position, and the blinds closed. Everything was as it had been when she went to bed.

Perplexed, she glanced at the clock beside her and saw that it was just barely nine o’clock. “It was…a dream,” she exhaled quietly, though her comment was more a question than a statement. Could it have been that her subconscious manifested it all: the blizzard, the snow blower, and, most importantly, the green eyed man shoveling her walk? Yes, yes of course. It was all a dream, just a crazy dream. That was what she thought until she heard the bathroom door creak open.

Sydney’s head immediately snapped to her left and, when she saw the familiar yet foreign figure standing in the bathroom doorway, her blood pressure fell once more. Breaking out into a sweat, she scrambled her way across the bed, away from the figure, which was clearly one from her imagination. He approached slowly, and she began shaking her head silently, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks.

As hyperventilation set in her gaze drifted towards the chair in the corner of the room closest to his side of the bed. A chair he always used as a clotheshorse. There, draped across the back of it, was an olive green jacket, unmistakably that of the US Army. Along with it, matching pants and a soft blue button up shirt to complete the ensemble. With this vision beginning to tie the pieces together, her eyes drifted back towards the man dressed in track pants, who now stood beside her.

“Sydney,” he breathed, reaching out his hand.

“No,” she managed to squeak, rolling away so that his hand could not touch her. “No, you’re dead. No, no, get away from me, no,” she cried as she buried her face down into her pillow. Her entire body trembled as she begged the hallucination to disappear, but it could not, because it was as real as she was.

“Sydney, please, it’s okay,” he said soothingly, resting his hand gently atop her back. She did not move her position one inch, so he stroked her back gently, waiting for her to look at him. When she finally did a few minutes later, her chocolate brown eyes were miles wide, filled with a mixture of utter terror and absolute hope.

“Sydney,” he said softly, dragging his finger down her cheek and brushing away the tears that had fallen there.

“But you…,” she managed.

“I’m here,” he assured her, sitting down on the bed beside her. He moved his hands to cup her face and look her directly in the eye for the first time in nine months. “I’m here; I’m really here. It was all a mistake…”

“Michael,” she choked out as she fell forward into his embrace. She let her head find that perfect spot in the crook of his neck that made her feel so safe as she folded her body into his, holding him as tightly as she could. Being in his arms again brought a fresh onslaught of tears rolling down her cheeks. It seemed impossible – it was impossible, yet there she was, in his arms, praying she would never have to let go again.

After too short a time in his embrace, Sydney forced herself to sit up properly and find out what exactly had happened. She needed to know it all before she would let herself believe it was real. “Michael, I don’t… they came to the door…said you were gone…I…,” she squeaked out, still unable to form proper sentences from pure shock.

“I was gone,” he told her as he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “Sydney, I can only tell you what I know, and I don’t know much. The last thing I remember about this past year is traveling down the road and watching all those men with guns jump out from the side of the road. The next thing I knew, it was two weeks ago and I was waking up in an Army hospital in Germany.”

“W-what?” she croaked. “You don’t remember?”

Michael shook his head solemnly. “They held me captive and a few days before I woke up, the Americans raided the building where I was being held. They said I was unconscious… I don’t remember any of it, which is probably a good thing… the doctors said it’s post-traumatic stress; I may never remember what happened,” he said sadly, though he had to admit, he was not too disappointed about not being able to remember the torture he most likely suffered. “Sydney, I had no idea how much time had passed or that you thought I was dead until a few days ago. I got right on a plane and came here because I figured if I called you, you wouldn’t believe me,” he said with a slight laugh.

“No, no I wouldn’t have,” she sobbed. “Michael…”

“Shh, it’s alright; I’m here,” he told her, leaning forward and kissing her forehead and then her cheek. As he did this, Sydney turned her head and captured his lips with hers; they had done enough talking for now.



Chapter 5

When Nadia Bristow pulled up in front of her sister’s house, she glanced down at the clock. It was after eleven in the morning, and if Sydney was still in bed Nadia was going to kill her. The forty minute drive had been hell even with her four wheel drive SUV, but Nadia had to do it. She just could not leave her sister alone on Christmas, especially since Sydney had not called her that morning as she had promised.

Nadia stomped her way around to the back of the house, practically wading through the deep snow. She let herself inside with her key and made sure to leave her snowy boots outside, or risk death from her neat freak sister. “Syd!” she called out as she made her way into the kitchen. She glanced at the sink and saw that it was completely empty. The odds of Sydney washing the dishes she used for breakfast and putting them away already were slim (especially on Christmas morning), making it more and more likely that Sydney had yet to awake. Grumbling slightly, Nadia made her way to the stairs.

“Sydney Anne, I’m not letting you sleep away your Christmas! You wouldn’t let me do it when we were in college, so I’m not letting you do it now,” Nadia informed her loudly. She purposely stomped her way up the last three steps before making her way towards the bedroom her sister had once shared with the man in her life. The door was open, so Nadia approached cautiously. From the hallway, she had a clear view of the bed, and when she saw the man in bed beside the naked form of her sister, she nearly screamed. She would have screamed too, had she been able to exhale a breath. Instead, she merely made a pathetic croaked. However, this was enough to gain the attention of the man in the bed, who was watching over the sleeping woman with a loving gaze.

He looked up and recognized her immediately. Carefully, he reached for the robe resting at the end of the bed and put it on, making sure not to give the woman in the doorway a view that would only cause her to be even more in shock. He crossed the bedroom quickly, stepped out into the hallway, and pulled the door shut behind him so that he would not wake his sleeping wife.

For two minutes the two of them stared at each other before he asked, “Nadia, are you breathing?”

“I don’t know,” she croaked out honestly. “Are you real?” she questioned quietly as though she was really trying to make sure.

“Yes,” he said with a soft smile. Then, he explained to her the same thing he had explained to Sydney earlier that morning regarding where he had been in the previous almost six months.

“Oh my god, seriously?! You don’t remember?” Nadia asked at the end of his tale. He shook his head gravely. “Oh my god, Michael,” she said sympathetically as she reached to touch his arm. They were silent for a moment before she asked while nodding towards the bedroom, “How’d she take it?”

“She fainted dead right into the snow,” Michael said, laughing slightly; it was funny in retrospect, though at the time it had terrified him to watch her eyes roll back in her head. “I had to carry her all the way up here when she didn’t wake up; she scared the hell outta me.”

“Something tells me that was mutual,” Nadia laughed.

“Probably,” Michael laughed as well.

“Are you okay?” she asked seriously.

Michael nodded. “I might be a little worse for the wear physically, but…yeah, I’m gonna be just fine,” he said with a brief glance back towards the bedroom.

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” Nadia told him.

He laughed. “That’s good to hear.”

She smiled, stepped forward and gave him a quick hug. “Well, I guess I’ll get going now that I know she’s in good hands. Merry Christmas Michael – oh, and you might want to put some pants on,” she told him as she walked down the hallway towards the stairs. He shook his head in her direction before returning to the bedroom, where Sydney was waking up. He watched her look around the bed frantically until her eyes fell on him, and she notably sighed with relief.

“I didn’t see you… I thought it had all been a dream,” she whimpered.

“It’s not a dream,” he assured her as he crawled back into bed. “Nadia was just here checking up on you.”

“Oh,” Sydney said softly, glancing back towards the door from which Michael came. “Did she leave?”

“Yeah,” he said softly, nodding his head in confirmation.

“Did you scare her?” she asked with an amused smile.

“Totally,” he laughed, nodding his head. She grinned, leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss. Then she curled up against his chest once more, feeling entirely comforted by his arms around her. Simply having him there washed away all the emotional pain of the previous five months.

“I love you so much Michael, so much,” she sighed.

Michael dropped a kiss onto her head before saying, “I know; I love you too and I’m so sorry for what you had to go through these past months…”

“It’s alright,” she assured him. It was going to be alright. Though the previous months had aged her more than her prior twenty-five years put together, she would have done them all over again just to have him right there beside her.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly.

She glanced up at him almost in shock. “What?! Are you kidding me? Michael, you’re here beside me – that’s all I ever need. We’re going to just pick up where we left off, spending our lives together. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Ditto,” he smiled at her. She laughed softly before pulling him into a passionate kiss. She let her kisses trail down his jaw, neck, and then finally on to his chest. It was then she finally noticed the new scars and marks scattered across his pale flesh. Earlier, she had been in too much of a rush to rid him of every item of clothing he was wearing to take a good look at the changes that had occurred on his body since the last time she saw him. He was more muscular, yet at the same time, his skin was so much more battered.

“It’s okay,” he said softly when he saw her staring at a particularly brutal looking cut by his shoulder. She glanced up at him curiously, wondering how such a thing could ever be classified as ‘okay’. “I don’t remember it, remember?”

“That doesn’t make it okay, Michael,” she said before placing a gentle kiss onto the marred area.

“I know, but I can’t change it, so…it just is,” he assured her. She nodded, though she was still unsure. “C’mon,” he encouraged. “Let’s go down and get something to eat; I’m starving and I could really eat a huge Christmas brunch.”

“Me too,” she grinned. Up until that moment, she had almost forgotten that it was Christmas. In the previous few weeks, she had been dreading this day very much, she wanted it to pass quickly. Now, she wanted it to go on forever, especially since she had a feeling it would be the best she ever had.



Chapter 6

“So I was thinking,” Michael began as he cracked half a dozen eggs into a skillet on the stove, “that we could maybe go visit my parents this afternoon? I mean, it’s not like we have presents to exchange. Plus, I should kinda tell them I’m alive,” he said with a slight chuckle before glancing over to Sydney. Much to his surprise, she was not wearing the smile she had been just a few moments earlier. Her expression was very grave, so much so that it scared him. “Sydney, what’s wrong?”

Sydney looked over to him cautiously. Suddenly their perfect little Christmas was not going to be so perfect any more. “Michael…your mother she…she isn’t well,” Sydney told him. She did not know quite how to describe the ailment his mother was suffering from, for it was not one that could be cured with medication. She did not have a disease or an infection, which could be cured with antibiotics. What she had was a permanently broken heart.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked with utmost concern.

“Well,” Sydney began slowly as she sat down in the nearest chair. “As you might imagine, finding out that she lost both of her sons within just a few months of each other affected her deeply. She…she hasn’t spoken since August; she’s catatonic, Michael,” she informed him sadly. Mrs. Vaughn’s grief had been a rapidly deteriorating process that went from days of crying to days of silence almost instantaneously. Though her husband tried to help her through it, as did Sydney, their efforts were fruitless. In Sydney’s opinion, she did not want to come out of her shell-like state, for then she would have to face the pain they were all dealing with on a daily basis. Some days, when her heart was really hurting, Sydney felt as though Mrs. Vaughn might have been the luckiest one of all of them.

“What?” Michael asked in a breathy tone, dropping the spatula he held in his hand. Sydney nodded solemnly. “Your dad quit his job so that he could take care of her. I help out too, when I can. She just sits in a chair by the window, staring blankly outside. We talk to her, but she doesn’t even blink. She hasn’t looked at us in months. Michael,” she said, getting up and walking over to him, “I’m so sorry.”

“But…but she’ll get better, right? I mean, if she sees me, she’ll get better,” he said, making it sound as though it was an absolutely truthful statement instead of a deep desire.

“I don’t know,” Sydney said honestly. “Maybe…but I guess we’ll see.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

Their meal was understandably very silent. Sydney felt terrible for bringing down the mood of the day the way she had, but, then again, Michael would have found out eventually about his mother, and the sooner he did, the better. As she was cleaning up their breakfast dishes, he wandered his way into the adjoining room where she found him moments later admiring their Christmas tree.

“Looks good,” he told her with a soft smile. She smiled back at him, until a light bulb flashed in her mind as to what she could do to lighten his mood.

“Come with me; I just remembered something,” she said, grabbing his hand. She pulled him up the stairs and into their bedroom. There, she began to rummage through her jewelry box, which was an utter mess of mangled necklaces, bracelets and hair accessories. Finally she found the box she was looking for and revealed it to him.

“I bought it a long time ago, just a day or so after you left. I had forgotten about it, but now…,” she paused to remove the silver ring from his case, “now you should wear it.”

“Gladly,” he smiled, holding out his left hand so that she could put the ring on its proper finger. She did so before standing up on her toes and giving him a long kiss. Michael snaked his arms around her back and pulled her deeper into their embrace, backing his way towards their bed as he did so. That time, instead of stripping as quickly as possible, each item of clothing was removed with great care before the revealed portion of flesh received very thorough attention.

~*~

An hour and a half later, Sydney and Michael were finally making their way out of the house to begin the forty minute drive to his parent’s home. As they dressed, Michael commented how surprised yet glad he was that she had kept all of his clothes. In fact, every single one of his belongings was in almost the exact same position he remembered leaving it in. The only thing that was gone was his car, and he had sold that himself before leaving. After he pointed this out, Sydney sheepishly admitted that she could not bring herself to throw out one single item. It was going to be her task for the New Year, but she was forever thankful that she would never have to complete it.

“It’s going to be okay,” Sydney assured him rather weakly as they drove. She noticed him shifting rather uncomfortably in his seat and, frankly, she could not blame him. Though she had been around Amelia Vaughn many times while she was in her catatonic state, each time had a certain amount of discomfort that went along with it. Amelia had once been so vibrant, with a laugh that filled a room. Seeing her so broken was terrifying, even though she knew what to expect. Michael had no way of knowing what seeing his mother in such a state would be like so, naturally, he was terrified.

“Thanks,” he said softly, giving her a hesitant smile. He knew she was lying to make him feel better, and it did, mildly so. The thing he was most thankful for was that she was going with him. He knew he could not bear to face such a horrible thing alone.

When they arrived at the Vaughn house, Sydney led the way around back and let herself inside like she always did. Very early on in her relationship with Michael, the Vaughn’s adopted her into their family as the daughter they never had. They had always been close and their bond only grew stronger when Michael went off to Iraq; they treated her no differently than had she been biologically their own.

“Bill, I brought a present for you!” Sydney called out as she slipped off her snow covered boots. She found the tall man who greatly resembled both of his sons in the kitchen washing dishes. He stopped when he saw her, though, and his face lit up.

“A present? Sydney, you didn’t have to do that,” he smiled at her.

She shrugged. “Of course I did…this one was a little big to wrap though,” she said before turning around. As she did this, Michael appeared in the doorway. There was a notable half-gasp, half-scream coming from across the room and Sydney hung back so that the father and son could reunite with one another.

Tears flowed as the two men embraced, talking in hushed tones about where Michael had been for the past half year. As they did this, Sydney crept from the kitchen and made her way into living room, where Michael’s mother was in her usual position. Bill and Sydney chose to put her rocking chair close to a window by the front of the house, where she could see the street and watch the cars pass. The doctors were not sure if her brain could even process the images she was seeing, but in case it could, Sydney and Bill wanted her to have something to look at.

“Amelia, it’s me – Sydney,” she said softly as she crouched down beside the rocking chair. She took one of Amelia’s hands in hers, but like usual, Amelia did not move one inch. “It’s Christmas, Amelia. Remember how much you used to love Christmas? You had that great big tree and you’d put all those ornaments on it – the ones that Bill brought you from all over the world. Well, anyway, I brought you a present and I hope… I hope it’ll help you,” she said sincerely. Then she gave Amelia’s hand a gentle kiss before standing up and turning around to find Michael looking rather horrified in the doorway. His father was behind him wearing the same expression he always wore when looking at his wife. To Sydney, it always looked like he was about to scream or cry, she was never sure which, but neither ever happened.

When Michael approached his mother, Sydney stepped aside, giving him the space she knew he needed. He knelt down beside her rocking chair, took both of her hands in his and held them to his face. “Mom, it’s me; it’s Michael. Can you hear me? I’m right here. I know they told you I was dead…and I’m so sorry that happened, but I’m not dead. I’m here. It was all a mistake. Please, you have to get better now. Please Mom, please,” he begged. He kissed her cheek and ran his hands across her face, trying to rouse her, but Amelia stayed just as statuesque as ever.

After a few more minutes of pleas, Michael finally gave up and returned to the kitchen, where the rest of his family was waiting. “I don’t understand,” he said in a distant voice. “I thought she would…”

“I know,” Sydney said softly as she walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He pulled her close and hugged her tightly.

“It’s not your fault, Michael,” Bill sighed, knowing his son would eventually blame himself. “It just…happened. Between you and what happened to Adam, she just couldn’t take it. She’s too far gone now.”

“Dad, I’m so sorry,” Michael said in the most sincere, sad voice Sydney had ever heard from him.

Bill gave a forced smile. “I know you are, son…but the most important thing is that you’re here with us.”

“Exactly,” Sydney chimed in, smiling up at her husband. He smiled back and gave her a brief kiss.

“So, what about you two?” Bill asked, trying to find a lighter subject. “Finally going to try your hand at married life?”

“You told them?” Michael asked Sydney in surprise.

She nodded simply. “Yeah, after you…,” she let her voice drift off. She could not quite bring herself to say ‘after you died’ but it was unnecessary; Michael knew what she meant.

“It’ll be nice for you two to finally settle back into some normalcy, I’m sure,” Bill commented. Sydney nodded her head; she could not have said it better herself. Bill was about to make another comment, but their conversation was interrupted by the sounds of shuffling feet coming towards them. All three of them turned to face the door and saw Amelia standing there. She was still wearing a rather glazed-over expression, but she had not moved on her own in so long, the three of them could not help but be hopeful.

“Mom?” Michael questioned as he took a step forward. Amelia did not say anything, but she shuffled her way towards the sound of his voice, still distantly staring off across the room. Michael pulled her into his arms and she managed to hug him back. This simple gesture caused everyone’s eyes to flood with tears; there was reason to hope again.

Though Amelia did not speak, she sat with the rest of her family as they ate and carried on a hearty conversation. Though they were still hesitant to be hopeful about a full recovery, their faith that she just might pull through had definitely been restored.

When Sydney and Michael left later that evening, both of their moods were much lighter than before. They laughed and talked about the future, their future – together. By the time they pulled up in their driveway, snow was beginning to fall once more. “Jeez, I just shoveled all this stuff to even get into the house!” Michael grumbled as he got out of the car, staring up at the sky.

“Shh, listen!” Sydney hissed at him. She too focused on the sky as she twirled around in the driveway. After a few moments, she grinned at Michael, who was looking at her with a very skeptical ‘my wife has lost her mind’ expression. “Don’t you hear that?!”

“Hear what? I don’t hear anything!” he exclaimed.

“Exactly!” she grinned. “I love listening to the snow fall. Everything becomes so silent…so peaceful,” she sighed happily. Michael walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. She was crazy, but it only made him love her more.

“You know what I was thinking?” he began softly. “I was thinking that maybe we could try to have a baby. It doesn’t have to be right this moment, but maybe we could think about it and – what was that?” he asked when she gasped loudly and clapped her hands over her mouth. She turned around laughing with one of the brightest smiles across her face.

“We might already have one!” she laughed. His brow wrinkled and she explained further. “I went off birth control right after you left and this morning we…,” she let her voice drift off as Michael joined her with his own laughter.

“Is that alright?” he asked.

“More than alright,” she said. Then she leaned in and gave him a long kiss as the snow fell peacefully all around them.



Epilogue

“Michael! Can you please, please change Adam’s diaper?!” Sydney yelled to her husband over the wailing of her four-month-old son. It was their first Christmas together as a family and, stupidly, she had decided to have all their family members over to their house to celebrate the event. That, of course, was a decision she was deeply regretting at the current moment.

“Of course. Come ’ere, Little Man,” Michael said as he scooped up his son from Sydney’s arms. As the two of them disappeared upstairs Adam’s cries were finally muffled and Sydney could sigh a brief moment of relief.

The previous year had been a whirlwind for their family, a wonderful one. As Sydney expected, she did become pregnant on Christmas day, something she and Michael were happy to announce to their whole family early the next year. In keeping with getting their life back on track, Michael returned to a job similar to the one he had left two years prior. Sydney continued working at her job until giving birth to her son in September. The whole family radiated around their new precious little member, named in memory of the uncle he would never know. Since then, things had been perfect – hectic, but perfect.

At the sound of the doorbell’s chime, Sydney groaned loudly. Someone, she did not know who, was arriving early and the house was not yet spotless. Then again, with a baby who went through diapers and clothing seemingly hourly, there was only a certain level of clean the house would ever reach.

When she reached the door, Sydney was happy to see her in-laws waiting on the front step, huddled together in the cold. This sight immediately made her smile. In the year since Michael’s return, his mother had made great strides on the road to recovery. It took her a few months, but she slowly began talking once more and participating in daily life. She was by no means the person she was before her breakdown, but the fact that she was once again interacting with them was more than any of them could have hoped for.

“Amelia, Bill, c’mon in. It’s freezing!” Sydney exclaimed with a shiver.

“Merry Christmas, Sydney,” Amelia said timidly while giving Sydney a light hug.

“How is that grandson of ours?” Bill asked when he hugged Sydney in turn.

“Oh you know…giving his mother grey hairs,” Sydney laughed slightly.

“Oh Syd, your hairs aren’t grey yet,” Michael said with a grin as he descended the stairs, Adam on his hip. He greeted his mother with a kiss on the cheek before passing the baby off to her. Any time Amelia was around Adam, she was almost always the person holding him. Though they never spoke about it, the whole family believed that Amelia thought of baby Adam as the reincarnation of his elder namesake.

Sydney was just about to follow the rest of her family into the other room, when the doorbell rang once more. That time, her sister, future brother-in-law, and both of her parents were on her doorstep. They all exchanged hugs and Christmas wishes before joining the rest of the family. Naturally, everyone was excited to greet the littlest member of the Bristow-Vaughn clan. Unfortunately, Adam did not share their excitement and he began shrieking at the top of his lungs until Sydney took him to another room in order to calm him down.

After a few minutes of bouncing, soft whispers and walking around the kitchen, Adam’s cries disappeared and he returned to his jovial self. Just as Adam was settling, Nadia entered the room with her usual smirk. “What’s with you?” Sydney asked with a laugh.

“Nothin’,” Nadia shrugged, folding her arms in front of her. “It’s just nice…you with the baby, the whole family in there…we’re like a Christmas card waiting to happen or something.”

“Okay then,” Sydney laughed. “Just think, pretty soon it will be you with the baby.”

“Hell no it won’t!” Nadia exclaimed.

“Nadia!” Sydney hissed, covering up one of Adam’s ears. She was trying to emphasis the use of only G-rated curse words around her son, unsure of when he would start developing the ability to speak.

“Oh, he can’t understand me,” Nadia said with a slight eye roll.

“Yes he can…and why don’t you want a baby?” she asked.

“I do want one, just not for at least another ten years; I’m way too immature,” she sighed.

“At least you recognize it,” Sydney mumbled. Nadia shot her a look and Sydney shot one right back.

“Are you ladies coming back?! I wanna give Adam his presents!” Michael called from the other room.

“What the heck kinda presents were we supposed to get a four-month-old? I just got him diapers,” Nadia said with a shrug. Sydney laughed, but somehow she knew that would be a more practical gift than whatever Michael purchased for his son.

“Here he is; Daddy’s little man,” Michael grinned as he picked up his son. Michael set him down in his lap before picking up a large box wrapped in bright paper. “This is for you buddy,” he said. Then he tore the paper off to reveal the gift.

“A monster truck?! Michael! He can’t even sit up on his own!” Sydney laughed along with the rest of the family at the gift.

“So? He can watch me play with it,” Michael informed her.

“So, really, it’s a present for him,” Nadia whispered in her sister’s ear. Sydney laughed and nodded, knowing how many presents Adam would receive in the near future that were really for Michael. She would not have had it any other way though, especially since if things continued as they were going, they were well on their way to having a better Christmas than the last.



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