Saturday, June 8, 2007. 19:22 P.M.

I will never be able to forget when and how it happened.

It was stupid, really. Completely unnecessary.

It has been two years after Lauren’s death. A bit of dramatic irony, really.

He was with me through my discovery of my mother’s death and my sister being an agent of the same black ops division that I myself was apart of.

After him falling asleep on that plane, though, he did ending up spending the night with me.

And all we did was talk. About Lauren and us and where ‘us’ was going to go. It was the first real conversation we had had in years.

I told him that I loved him that night. He told me he loved me back.

Now, here I am.

Saturday, June 2, 2007. 9:22 A.M.

“So hey, guess what?”

Vaughn looked at me.

“What?”

“He did it.”

Vaughn smiled. “Finally huh?”

“Yup,” I nodded.

“It’s about time he asked her to move in with him. He’s been crazy about her for ages.”

“She’s crazy about him too.”

“Good. I don’t want to see either of them hurt.”

“Me neither.” I kissed him softly. “He says that he’s very offended that you didn’t come to the door.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t want to get dressed.”

“We are going to have to feed Millie, ya know” I said as I undressed again and climbed under the covers.

“We will.”

“Should we tell them our news, today?” I whispered against his lips.

“Absolutely…”

Saturday, June 8, 2007. 19:32 P.M.

Later that day, we were doing chores. I discovered that we were out of laundry detergent…

Saturday, June 2, 2007. 13:22 P.M.

“I’ll go get it.”

I looked at him. “Vaughn, you try and get out of doing chores every weekend and now you’re volunteering to go get laundry detergent?”

“Well, if we are going to be together for the rest of our lives, I want to help out and stuff. I promise never to complain about doing chores again.”

We both laughed at his fake sincerity. He kissed me tenderly and slowly. “Be right back.”

I kissed him again. “Okay.

“Hey don’t let the puppy out!”

Too late.

I heard the puppy that we had gotten last week run through the hallway and out of the door.

“Dammit,” he cursed. He turned toward me sheepishly. “I’ll go get her.”

I smiled and he rushed out of the door after her.

That’s when I heard the screech of the car tires on the street.

Dropping what I was doing, I rushed out of the door to see something I never thought I would see.

Running as fast as I could, the tears running down my cheeks, I finally was able to bend down to the sprawled out form of the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Blood was all over his face and his right arm was bent at an odd angle.

I pulled his head into my lap ever-so-carefully as a neighbor rushed out of her house. “I called nine-one-one.” She breathed.

I nodded, barely paying attention to her as Vaughn was coughing.

“Stay still, Vaughn.” I said softly. “Just stay still. An ambulance will be here soon…”

“M-Millie?”

I looked toward the side of the street to see the puppy staring at them.

“She’s fine, honey.”

He was quiet as the ambulance rolled up, sirens blaring. I absently thanked the neighbor, who had stayed with us.

Saturday, June 2, 2007. 19:42 P.M.

We got to the hospital and I remember that I hated the sight of him, bruised and bloody, hooked up to IVs and a heart monitor. I always had hated the sight of him hurt. Emotionally or physically. He was the same with me.

Saturday June 2, 2007. 14:10 P.M.

“What do we have?”

“37 year old male. Hit and run…” The paramedic rattled off to the doctors as they rushed him to an operating room.

I rushed with them.

A doctor came to me as they started on him.

“Miss,-“

“Bristow. Sydney Bristow.”

The doctor nodded. “Are you a relative?”

“I’m his f-“

But before I could continue on and tell this doctor what we hadn’t told anyone yet, there was a yell from a room nearby.

Vaughn’s room.

I rushed in, the doctor after me, not even bothering to stop me.

“1…2…3, clear!”

Saturday, June 8, 2007. 19:45 P.M.

I remember, so very clearly, that with every arch of his broken body, my own spasmed with him.

Saturday, June 2, 2007. 14:15. P.M.

“No,” I whispered tearfully.

“Ms. Bristow,”

I ignored him and rushed over…

Saturday, June 8, 2007. 19:52 P.M.

More than anything, I hate remembering this. I hate that I know the exact time that he…

I look down at the gray tombstone, the melancholy color mocking me.

“Oh, Michael…” I sink to my knees, touching my fingertips to his name. “It’s ironic…isn’t it? We worked so hard for a normal life and you had to die while we were living it.”

I look down at my left hand. “I haven’t told them yet. Though, I’m surprised that they haven’t noticed it. I haven’t been able to take it off since you put it on my finger.”

I slip the engagement ring off of my finger and kiss it before putting it on his tombstone.

“I think I will leave it with you for a while. I love you, Vaughn.”

“Time of death…14:22…”

End