Bill Buchanan stood at the head of the table in CTU's conference room. His suit jacket was thrown over his chair and before him were files. He breathed in, stabilising his mind and drawing in strength that he knew he'd need.

There was a tap on the heavy dark door.

"Come in."

Chloe O'Brian entered, eyes downcast, shoulders slumped. She looked dejected, as though she were carrying more than her fair share of pain.

"Lock the door."

The young woman glanced around, taking in her surroundings, before she did so.

"Have a seat."

Bill occupied his chair at the head and Chloe sat to his immediate right, away from the door. Her eyes met the folder on the table.

"I'm worried about you."

Her downcast eyes squinted in a scowl. "I'm fine," she replied, shortly.

Bill shifted in his seat, attempting to move into her view. "You failed your evaluation."

Chloe's eyes widened, and she was overcome with a look as though she had been doused with ice water. Her nerves jolted with iced lightning. "What?" she asked, breathlessly.

He opened her file, a navy folder with a stack of papers fastened in place. Flicking through a few of the sheets, his finger landed on the middle of a page. "Chloe O'Brian," he read, "shows a lack of compassion and concern for her fellow employees. With direct comparisons of her chart against her performance during the evaluation process, I recommend that she be relieved of her position as Lead Analyst at CTU:LA. I feel that, were she interested in the retention of her career in CTU:LA, she should be demoted to a lower level Analyst, without management responsibilities."

There were tears shining in her eyes as she looked up at her elder, part in devastated sadness, part in frustrated rage. "You're firing me?"

Bill looked up, his gaze locking onto her own. "No." The reply was simple , but with conviction.

Her eyes bounced away, latent tears still shimmering at the corners. She was no longer frozen, but the heat of the sudden thaw left her cheeks blazing. "But I failed. I shouldn't be management and if you demote me, I'll just leave." Her matter-of-fact tone belied the shocked expression still on her face.

"I know that you'll leave. Which is why I'm not going to demote you. However, I need to know some things, Chloe, and I want you to be honest with me. If you can't do that, then all I can offer you in a shining letter of recommendation."

Chloe's eyes dropped to the floor, avoiding the gaze of her elder. Absently, she worried on her lip. "What do you need to know?"

Bill flipped through the file, glancing over an unbound printed sheet. "What is Asperger's Syndrome?"

The young woman froze, without blinking or taking a breath. She paled several shades. After a few moments, she swallowed hard, breathing again; her jaw slacked.

Bill focused on her; his warm eyes melted the icy fear that held Chloe fast.

The lids slipped over her eyes and one stray tear slid down. She swiped at it angrily; the colour rising in her cheeks. "It's this mental disorder. It means that the person is socially retarded."

The white haired man frowned. "It doesn't mean that the person is retarded as such. It just means that they..."

"No," she interrupted, her voice rising. "It means retarded. Special Ed classes and all."

"Your file says that..."

"It shouldn't have been in my file." She rubbed her hand over her face in exasperation.

Bill nodded, flipping the folder shut. He slid it to the side, revealing a thick manilla file. He pulled at a bookmark and opened to a place close to the beginning. Sliding it near Chloe, he said, "Not in your CTU file, no. There were some glaring omissions in your CTU profile, so the doctor that did the evaluation referenced your medical file. Your diagnosis was noted, in great detail, in the hard copy."

Angrily, she shoved the folder back along the table, not even glancing toward it. "I know what it says."

"Why is there a difference in what your files say?"

She sighed. "Because I don't want everyone to treat me like a retard."

A look of gentle concern softened Bill's features. "And why would anyone treat you that way?"

Chloe's head shot up, her eyes grabbing hold of Bill's. "Because I am a retard. But if people don't know about the Asperger's, then they just think I'm a bitch."

Bill squared his shoulders and straightened in his chair. "You are not a 'retard.' I won't hear of it again, do you understand?" His tone quashed the notion to argue.

Her reply, a nod, was halfhearted and absent; her mind far away.

"Chloe," he said, his tone again mild. He reached out to take her hand, but she pulled away. "You are an extraordinary young woman. You show tremendous strength under pressure. You have a sense of justice and loyalty that I respect and admire. You've saved our lives more than once, and, most of all, you have a good heart. Things might not always be spoken with tact, but your friends know that you mean well."

Chloe rolled her eyes and directed a scowl away from Bill. "Yeah, well, it looks like 'meaning well' isn't letting me keep my job."

"I'm not firing you."

Her eyes still avoided his calm, yet serious gaze. They widened, however, as she came to a realisation. "Everybody's gonna find out, aren't they?"

"No."

"Oh my God. They are going to find out." She sucked in a panicked breath and began a tirade, without air. "Then I'll have to leave again. I don't want to leave, but maybe Denver is hiring, and I can get on there, but you have to not say anything, because then they'll know I'm retarded before I get there and I won't even have the chance to screw up the first impression and I..."

He silenced her by placing his large warm hand over her own. She looked up at him, panting, anxiousness in her eyes.

"I'm not going to say a word, Chloe. Your secret is safe with me."

"Oh."

He watched her face, as the nervousness faded into calming credence of Bill's statement. He could see the faith she had in him. He frowned for just a moment, as he pulled his hand away, and opened her medical file to marked spot.

"Chloe, there is more in your evaluation. More we need to talk about."

"I don't wet the bed anymore, so that shouldn't be counted against me."

A soft smile upturned the corner of Bill's mouth. "It's not about that." He sobered visibly. "Where is Morris?"

She flinched away from his lingering, friendly touch; her eyes steeling over. Her body language radiated defensiveness. "He left." Chloe's scowl returned, and her bottom lip went between her teeth again.

Bill sat back in his chair; his hands resting on the table. "Why?"

"It doesn't matter," she replied quickly. "This is about work. Not about whatever convoluted soap opera is going on behind the scenes. My problems are my own."

"I agree. Everyone should avoid bringing their problems to work."

Chloe's discontented squint locked with Bill's eyes. "I do. I don't gossip. Because I don't care. Work is work."

Bill reached for the file again, and Chloe stiffened. "Work is work. However, whether you are aware of it, or not, people have been noticing of your issues. You've been defensive, not just verbally, but also physically. This has raised concern with several of your co-workers."

"It's none of their business." She absently rubbed at her turtle neck collar.

"They're your friends. And from what Nadia said, you've barely acknowledged her presence for the past week. She relayed," he began, glancing at the open folder to give a direct quote, "'Chloe has been distant and when I went to ask her what had happened, she said that Morris had left her and nothing else. She seems hyper-vigilant and when I went to put my hand on her shoulder, she pulled back. I think she was shaking.'"

Chloe wrapped her arms around herself. There was a haunted look in her eyes. She glared; her face like stone. "I'm not all touchy-feely. Nadia should know that by now."

"Chloe." Bill sighed, bracing himself. He flipped to a page in the medical file. "What happened to you during your sophomore year of college?"

It was obvious, by the shock in her posture, the distant pain drowned in her eyes, that she knew to what exactly he was implying. "How dare you..."

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to find out this way, Chloe."

Her eyes were burning holes in the folder, but avoiding Bill's humble gaze. "I didn't want you to find out at all."

"The doctor brought it up to me, as the information was missing in your current CTU profile."

Chloe's scowl deepened. "So are you going to fire me because of this instead?"

Bill blew out an exasperated breath. His face held pain and his eyes sympathy. "I'm not going to fire you. I can understand why you wanted to hide this."

"Too late for that. You violated my privacy. And the only CTU person who knows what happened is Chase. But I guess that's not the case now."

"Chase Edmunds?"

"Yeah." Chloe balled her fists, and impulsively stood, sending her chair clattering to the ground. "You know what, I don't want to talk about this. Not now. Not with you. Not ever again, okay?"

"Chloe..." Bill rose, extending an arm toward her.

"No. Okay? Just... No. I don't want you to lay that 'it's not my fault' crap on me. I don't want you to tell me how sorry you are for me. I don't want your sympathy or your own harrowing tale of survival. I just want to go, okay?" She turned and moved for the door.

In an instant, the elder was before her, blocking her exit. He did not touch her. He simply stood, tall, proud, with arms crossed; his face adamant. "No."

She closed her eyes, flinching as she bit down on her cheek hard enough to draw blood. Her fists were clenched so tight that her fingernails cut into her palms. "I don't want to do this," she said, her voice wavering.

Bill let his arms fall to his sides. "Chloe," he said, emotion impinging on his own voice. "I'm not going to rehash everything that people have told you over the years. I will simply tell you what I see before me."

Chloe shivered and she could not get her teeth to stop chattering.

"Before me is a woman who knows what she believes. Who knows what she stands for. She is loyal beyond measure. She has had her share of problems and has broken her share of laws, but she stands before me a survivor. Knowing what I know now doesn't make me think any less of you, Chloe. I know that you aren't 'retarded' and you aren't a victim. You are the same brilliant woman who has fought with more conviction than nearly anyone I've ever met. I am honoured to have known you, and I will do everything in my power to ensure that you remain in your position. I know that I can sleep a little easier with you running things here. Chloe... You are Chloe today, no matter what happened in your past. You are a survivor."

She slid her eyes closed, and with deft movements, Bill got her to her seat just before her knees buckled and she would have hit the floor. It was as though a dam had broken, and she was deluged with a torrent of repressed emotion. Sobs wracked her frame and Bill knelt before her, simply holding her as she bawled. Her sobbing was silent, at first, but as she continued, anguished wails were muffled into his shirt. He began to rock her gently, shushing her, as he rubbed her back.

She sniffed and wiped at her nose, pulling away, but, within moments, found herself sobbing again, burying her face into his chest.

Nearly twenty minutes later, the crying had tapered off to stuttered breathing. Bill reached into the pocket of his suit jacket, procuring a cotton handkerchief. He handed it to the young woman, who had pulled away, trying to regain control of her unwieldy emotions.

She took the offered tissue, and blew her nose, catching a glance at Bill's dress shirt. "Sorry. I, um, I got snot on your shirt." She swiped at her cheeks, desperately trying to will herself back in check.

"It's all right." He slipped on his suit coat. Flashing her a warm smile, he said, "There. No one will be the wiser."

She nodded, looking humbled.

"Do you feel better?" He took his seat at the head of the table.

"Don't get all weird on me, okay? So you know that I have Asperger's and that I was raped. I really don't want to make this big deal out of it. I took those things out of my file so that I didn't have to listen to everyone give me this sycophantic line of crap because either I was a retard or a weepy victim." She blew out a breath. "When I was at DC, one of the supervisors found out about the Asperger's and suddenly everyone treated me like the special worker at McDonalds. I wasn't bitch Chloe anymore. It was just everyone making excuses for me because of my diagnosis." She shrugged. "When I came here, I wanted to start fresh. No baggage. Just... me."

"I respect that." Bill looked thoughtful for a moment. He sighed and began, "However, something brought this pain back up." He let silence reign for a moment. "What happened with Morris?"

Chloe closed her eyes and worried on her lip. She drew in a breath. With slow and shaking fingers, she reached up for her collar, rolling the fabric down. Exposed were long tendrils of purple and yellow painting her neck.

Bill's jaw clenched hard on his teeth, to mask his reaction. "He..."

She smoothed the fabric back up over the bruises. "He choked me. He..." Tears threatened again, and her voice broke. She cleared her throat, a futile gesture to stem the emotion. "When I came to, I was in my bed. He didn't touch me while I was out, but..." She stopped, sighing. "There was a note. That he was leaving. Staying with a friend."

Bill reached out, taking Chloe's hand. He clenched it in his own, and began to rub the back. "Did you have a fight?"

"Yeah," Chloe said, her gaze dropping to their joined hands. "About his drinking and the baby."

Bill's eyes lit. "Is the baby..."

"Fine." She gave a humourless laugh. "Mom's not doing so hot and dad's an ass, but..."

The elder closed the files. He looked down at them for a long moment and his eyes wandered to what Chloe was looking at. He smiled, despite how he felt. "All right. You need to make a decision."

"Hmm?"

"Chloe," he asked, "Do you want to stay here at the CTU?"

She was ready to answer immediately, but clamped her mouth shut. Deep thoughts etched her brow. After a moment, she replied, "It depends."

Bill nodded. "On what?"

"On what people know. I don't like the fact that people know about me being pregnant. If anyone were to find out anything..."

He interrupted her, "They won't."

She scowled. "Fine... Yeah. I want to stay."

The elder's warm eyes met hers, softening her expression. "Firstly, I want to promise you that your information is safe with me. I will not tell a soul. Not even Karen. And the doctor is held by patient confidentiality. He cannot discuss any of his findings with anyone other than your direct supervisor, who is, for the time being, me."

"Uh... What happens when Nadia takes over?"

"That will be up to you," he replied. "I trust Nadia, but you should do what you feel is best."

Bill pushed the files toward Chloe. "Secondly," he said, with a smile only showing in his eyes. "I want you to ensure that the CTU profile is complete with your vital information pertaining to your health. I am not telling you to include or omit any information, in an effort to cover my ass if this were ever to come back to haunt me."

For the first time during the conversation in its entirety, Chloe gave a meaningful smile and a chortle. She nodded. "I can do that."

He squeezed her hand, drawing her attention to his eyes. "I care about you Chloe. To me, you are family." He shook his head. "I know that sounds sappy, but I mean it."

"It's not sappy. It's cool."

He continued, a little awkwardly. "I just want you to know that you have people who care about you and that, if you need anything, we are here. The things you are dealing with, you should not have to face alone. Not only do I want you to try and talk to your friends, but I want you to seek some help, beyond what we can provide."

Tenseness stiffened Chloe's posture. She scowled and said bitterly, "I don't do shrinks."

Bill clenched the warm hand in his own again briefly. "I understand. Just allow me to give you the name of the woman that I visit when things get to be too much. I'd feel much better knowing that I've done at least that."

A nervous smile twisted Chloe's lips. "Okay. I can do that."

Bill returned her expression with a heartfelt smile of his own. "Good." Breaking his hand away, he pulled a CTU notepad from the centre of the table and jotted down a name and phone number. "Here."

Chloe took the paper and looked upon it with wonder in her eyes. "Cool."

"Cool."

"Are we good?"

Bill nodded as he rose. "Absolutely."

Chloe tarried, an awkward look on her face. After standing, she moved near him. With a proud smile, he gathered her into a hug, with one arm around her back and the other gently stroking her hair.

She sighed against him, snaking her arms around his tall form. "Yeah," she said, her voice holding a sarcastic bite, "This is the extent of touchy feely for me. I've filled the quota for the year."

"I'm honoured that I've won the hug for this year."

Chloe pulled away, straightening her blouse nervously. "Yeah."

Bill stepped back, then moving toward the door. "Can you do me another favour?"

She rolled her eyes. "I better get paid overtime."

Bill laughed, while opening the door for the young woman. "Open up to your friends. Don't hide from them."

"Yes sir."