Shattered Paradise

Chapter 1: Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

It started during the moment of silence. How ironic; a moment that was meant for peace and reflection. Instead, she was preoccupied with the dull, throbbing ache that at the time was nothing more than a minor annoyance, but that she knew would soon explode into piercing pain.

And she was right. It did. Just as the second bell rang and the last few stragglers of her first class found their way to their seats.

She gave them an assignment to work on; one that would take the entire class period. Then she frantically searched through her purse for her pills; the ones that would bring a quick end to the pounding of her head, but only if she took them soon.

She found the pill bottle, thank God; unscrewed the top, and turned it upside down. But nothing came out. She tried again, as if she thought it would somehow work the second time, but still there was nothing. Dammit.

Putting the bottle away, she pretended to busy herself with the stack of papers on her desk, as the clock slowly clicked the time away. She wouldn't make it through the rest of the day, not without her medication. She hadn't had too many of these blinding headaches in the year or so since her injury, but she had had enough of them to know that much. She only had to make it to the end of the period, and then she could go home; they could find someone else to cover her classes for the rest of the day.

Someone coughed, and she looked up. A girl in the front row had her hand raised in the air.

"Mrs. Vaughn?"

"Yes, Alicia?" Sydney asked, with all the patience and sweetness she could muster; it wasn't much.

The girl looked at her, confused. "Um, my name's Natalie…"

"Of course, Natalie. I'm sorry…Do you have a question?"

"Yeah. Could you explain the theme to me? I'm a little confused."

"Sure," Sydney responded. Thank God. A simple question on theme. She could do that. That's why she had become a high school English teacher, after all. The job was simple and enjoyable (most of the time); the answers to questions relatively straightforward. Nothing like before.

"You see, the theme of this novel is freedom and self realization," Sydney began, "because Edna…"

"Mrs. Vaughn…" A boy in the back of the room interrupted her, waving his hand in the air.

"Let me finish," Sydney snapped impatiently. "You can ask questions later."

The students gave each other strange glances as Sydney continued, but no one dared interrupt her. She finished her monologue, describing how Edna's search for independence shows the struggle that all women of her time had to endure.

"Does that answer your question?" Sydney asked with a sigh, folding her arms and sitting back in her chair. Poor Natalie only stared at her blankly.

The pain was slowly increasing with every second that passed. It felt like someone was squeezing her head in a vice, one kind of torture that she actually hadn't had the pleasure of experiencing first hand. She used to only get these headaches once every couple of months, but now…

"Mrs. Vaughn?" The boy who had interrupted her before was waving his hand in the air frantically.

"What, Luke?" Patience is a virtue, Sydney…

"Oh, my name's Ryan…."

God damn it.

"…Luke's in your next class, though…"

That's helpful.

Sydney searched through her desk for her seating chart. She hadn't needed the damn thing since the second day of school, and it was nowhere to be found in her desk.

"What is it, Ryan?"

"I was just wondering if you were okay, because…"

That was sweet. How refreshing.

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered calmly, but inside she was screaming. Michael would have known that something was wrong, but these kids hadn't a clue. But then again, how could they?

"Okay, well, that was a really nice explanation you gave us, and I'm sure we all enjoyed it and it will come in handy someday…"

"The point, Ryan?"

"Yeah, it's just, we finished The Awakening last week. We're reading Madame Bovary now. Emma, not Edna."

Sydney sighed and propped her head up with her hand. It had become too heavy to hold up. The tears were burning her eyes; she wanted so badly to cry, but couldn't. She had probably already scared these kids enough today.

"They're very similar, though…" Someone piped up from the back of the room, and the rest of the students nodded avidly.

Well, that made her feel so much better. Uh huh, the books are similar. Any high school English teacher could have made the same mistake. Pure and simple. They were easy to confuse; any double agent, who had studied literature in grad school could have done the same God damn thing…

Sydney took a deep breath and lifted her head to stare out at the twenty bright faces before her. She felt powerless. A sudden, piercing pain slammed through her head, and she gasped and brought a hand to her forehead in an effort to wave the pain away.

Just then, the bell rang, giving entirely new meaning to the phrase "Saved by the bell." The class remained seated, waiting for her to tell them that they could leave. Without looking at them, Sydney quickly gathered up her things and left the room, leaving twenty confused students whispering curiously behind her.

Sydney walked as fast as she could (there was no running in the halls, even with her head pounding, she could remember that) to the main office, ignoring the greetings of students and fellow teachers that she passed.

She glanced in, and breathlessly told the secretary that she was leaving. The secretary nodded knowingly, and Sydney left the room.

The last thing Sydney heard before she left the building was the secretary's voice droning over the intercom, "Mrs. Vaughn's second period American Literature class, please report to study hall in the cafeteria."

Vaughn stepped into his house a little after twelve, grinning from ear to ear. He had decided to come home for lunch, and obviously Sydney had as well. This life was paradise. He loved being able to spend time with her, and even though he knew that her lunch break was short, there might be time for…

His smile suddenly vanished when he saw Sydney's things scattered on the kitchen floor. Her keys, her bag, the students' papers. She was always so meticulously organized, but now Madame Bovary was scattered next to The Great Gatsby and mixed with Huckleberry Finn…

Dammit. Not again…

Without a second thought, Vaughn took a washcloth out of the drawer and ran it under cold water, letting the icy liquid saturate the cloth and run down his fingers.

He tiptoed down the hall and into their bedroom. The door was open, but the shades had been pulled down, leaving the room drenched in cool darkness.

She was lying on the bed, her arm over her face, covering her eyes.

"Syd?…Honey?…"

She didn't answer, and he sat down next to her on the bed, gently removing her arm from her face and placing the cool washcloth on her forehead. She sighed and her eyes fluttered open.

"Mike…"

"Hey, you okay?"

She shook her head slowly. He hated seeing her like this. It reminded him too much of what had happened, of what he was trying to forget…

"But I'll be okay soon."

That's what she had said the last time, and the time before that. And it would happen. Soon, she would be okay…until the next time…

"Syd, I'm worried about you. The doctor in Cairo said that you might get a headache like this every couple of months. This is the third one you've had in two weeks." He could remember each and every one she had had since they had left Cairo. He could tell you what day of the week it had been, what the weather had been like, and how long it had been before the pain left her. He could tell you everything.

"Sorry…"

"No, don't be sorry," he murmured as he leaned over and kissed her gently. "It's not your fault." It's that damn bastard's fault. That son of a bitch. If Syd's life hadn't been on the line, he would have made him pay…

"Mike," her voice was a whisper, just like it had been that day, over a year ago. "You should be getting back to work…"

"No, I'm going to stay here with you."

"You don't have to. You really should go."

They had been married a year and he still rarely refused her anything. But she wasn't going to win. Not this time.

"No, Sydney. I'm staying right here."

She closed her eyes. There were no more protests. She had given in, both to him and to the pain.

"Syd, I have to go call out of work…Did you take your medicine?"

She shook her head, eyes still closed.

"Okay, I'll get it and be right back."

He left, called Weiss and explained the situation, found Sydney's medicine, and got her a glass of water. When he returned a few minutes later, however, Sydney was no longer in bed. The door to their bathroom was closed, but he could hear her inside. She was sick. This had never happened with any of her other headaches.

He went inside the bathroom and knelt beside her. Holding her hair out of her face and rubbing her back, as she leaned over the toilet.

Half an hour later, he helped an utterly miserable and exhausted Sydney brush her teeth, and carried her over to bed.

"Here," he said, sitting her down on the edge of the bed, and handing her a small, white pill and the glass of water he had gotten earlier. She took it and he helped her lay down. He sat beside her, wrinkles of worry creasing his forehead.

"Syd," he whispered after a moment. "I'm going to call the doctor. Get you an appointment for tomorrow…"

"But the party, Michael," she murmured. "I don't want to cancel the party."

Vaughn smiled. A month ago, they had finally moved out of his apartment and gotten a house. She had wanted to invite everyone over right away, but he had managed to convince her to wait until they had everything unpacked and put in order. They had planned their picnic for this weekend and she had been looking forward to it with so much enthusiasm that he knew it would crush her if they had to cancel it.

"It's not till the afternoon. I'll try to get you an appointment in the morning, but you're going to go."

"But…"

He brought a finger to her lips. "Shhh, Syd. Don't argue with me. You're going."

"Okay."

He kissed her warm forehead and she sighed. He watched her, as her breathing steadied and she drifted into a fitful sleep.

A little while later, he shifted to get more comfortable and reached over to pick up the phone. Her hand suddenly shot out and grabbed his wrist, startling him; but what she uttered next startled him more.

"Vaughn!?"

Dammit. Back to yesterday. Back to Vaughn. He gazed at her; her eyes were wild and frightened.

"Syd, baby…what's wrong?" He cradled her face in his hands. Her skin was warm, and even in the dim light, he could see that her cheeks were flushed. He took off her sweater and handed her a T-shirt that he had found on the end of the bed. She shivered and let him put the T-shirt on her, still looking at her with frantic, feverish eyes.

"Syd?" he asked again, leaning closer to her.

"Vaughn…don't go…"

Tears came to his eyes. "Stay with me…please." He remembered it like it was yesterday. It would haunt him forever…

"I'm not going anywhere," he murmured…"I'm not leaving you. Never again, I promise."

He snuggled down beside her, taking her into his arms. She shifted so that not even the tiniest amount of space separated their bodies, and clung to him tightly.

He held her and waited. Slowly, her grip relaxed, and she fell into a deep and much needed sleep.

Vaughn sighed. Today, quite frankly, had been a day from hell. A day when they seemed to fall back into old habits and fears, when their carefully constructed world, their paradise, threatened to shatter. On days like today, they took a step backward, into the pain and suffering of yesterday.

But yesterday was nothing more than a memory.

Today was almost over.

And tomorrow, the sun would shine.

I know it's a slow start, and I'm sorry. Better stuff coming soon…Please let me know what you think, it will help me decide what to put in future chapters.