| Title: Losing Control
Feedback: Appreciated very much. E-mail Me Archive: Ask first, I'll say yes. Rating: R for language and theme. Pairing: Slight Vaughn/Sydney. Summary: Syd's thoughts after "Almost Thirty Years" as she slowly goes crazy. Notes: This one's different. Sorry for language and OOC. Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot. JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, ABC, and people who are luckier than me own everything else. Big surprise. |
Losing Control By Alison D/C: I don't own anything but the plot. Everything else belongs to JJ Abrams, ABC, and Bad Robot. ~*~*~ Ever since it happened people think I've been going crazy. Crazy? I don't think so. Unless crazy means that your mind is going in a million different directions, all telling you a million different things for a million different reasons, please stop, please. The funeral. Everyone sobbing, like it was taken out of a movie or something. Everyone telling me it's OK. But they're all fake. Just there to comfort some poor agent like me. Telling me there was nothing I could do. No no no… Sloane calls me up. Tries to be a friend. Asks why I haven't been at work. I give him some bullshit story about Emily. How I miss her. I don't miss her. I miss you. You couldn't breathe. Why couldn't you breathe. Why couldn't you have found some way out of there, get out, get out. And all the while you try to help me. Me, of all people. You wouldn't even be there if it hadn't been for me. My fault my fault my fault… Guardian angel my ass. I never guarded you. You always guarded me. My own little personal body guard. You even got me that present, a picture frame. All I did was kill you. I let you drown. My fault… Mom once told me that if you truly loved a person you could look into their soul. I couldn't look into Danny's soul. Why could I look into yours? Looking into those eyes with a million shades of color and looking into your soul. But you're dead, and I get a new handler. Everyone who knows me gets punished. My fiancé, my friend, my handler…my fault… New handler…who is it this time? Lambert? Weiss? That slime ball that you beat up that one time? None can come close to you…none…miss you miss you… I see you in the casket. Why the hell they keep the casket open in these things is beyond me. Like we didn't get enough grief. I see your body all stiff. I can't see your hazel eyes. My fault… What were you thinking of? Me? How much you hated me for killing you. Letting you drown. All for some cause you weren't even involved in at first. Some fucking cause. This all would have been easier for you if I had just died. If SD-6 had just shot me in that park. My fault… Everyone's gone away from me. Francie doesn't know me anymore. Will's still in the hospital. Recovering. Like I should be. Recovery. Not as easy as it sounds. Devlin thinks I should get a shrink. Spill my heart out to some stranger who tries to analyze my mind and expects me to be all better. They live for people like me. My handler, whose father was killed by my mother, is killed. Drowned. By me. I don't want to pour my heart out to a stranger. I want to pour my heart out to you. Love you love you love you. I loved you, then I killed you. No no no no I killed you no no no Made you stick by me no. You couldn't breathe. Couldn't get the one thing that mattered most to your survival. No me…air. All because of some stupid mission for some fucking SD-6 that I don't even support, but I've been spending the last year trying to bring them down. With you. We were bringing them down together. Love you love you… We tried. We tried so hard. What damage did we do to them? Stole a piece of paper from Sloane's house. Took pictures of a lot of crap. I'm sure that Sloane's losing some fucking sleep over it. My fault… I miss you. Miss you miss you miss you. I'm so sorry I killed you. I'm so sorry you fell in love with me. I'm so sorry you felt so obligated to come with me. I'm sorry I fell in love…with the man I could never have…my fault my fault… Maybe I am going crazy…
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