A/N: I will be updating Mission: Impossible soon. It's just that my muse abandoned me for a moment and gave me ideas for this story.
Disclaimer: Alias and all its characters are not mine. They belong to J.J Abrams. So don't sue me. But if they allow me to have Jennifer Garner, that would be just fine 'cause she's my idol. :)
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Prologue
They said she lost her memory. They weren't sure when she'd regain it, only that it was just temporary.
It had happened on a mission. She had been captured by the Covenant.They tried torturing her to get the infomation on the whereabouts of the Passenger, but she wouldn't bulge.
So they had resorted to drastic measures. They used the Rambladi fluid on her, hoping that the Chosen One and the Passenger was the one and same person. But it didn't work. Instead, it had wiped away her memory.
As a result, she didn't even know who she herself was, let alone the location of the Passenger. So she was rendered useless.
The Covenant dumped her at the side of a road in Italy and left her wondering the streets, helpless. If it wasn't for the fact that a CIA agent had spotted and recognised her, she would have been laying dead in some random ditch.
The doctors back in LA had ran tests over her, giving her a clean bill of health besides her memory loss. She was re-introduced to all her friends. Weiss, Will, Marshall, even her father, Jack. Surrounded by by so many unfamiliar faces, she had retreated into herself. It pained Jack to see his daughter acting so weak and defenseless when the real Sydney Bristow would have been full of confidence.
The CIA had her stay in a safe house since they didn't think that it would be safe for her to live alone. Plus, the Covenant might come to take her back again once they thought she had regained her memory.
Irina had been informed of her daughter's situation, courtesy of Jack, to the chagrin of the CIA, but Jack had insisted, arguing that she deserved to know. The CIA knew he would contact her anyway, regardless of what they said.
Everyday, Jack would pop in at the safe house to check on Sydney before and after work. At first, the guards posted there didn't allow him to enter. But after some 'persuading', they did. He would chat with her over breakfast and tell her about everyone, hoping that would alicit some memory from her.
One day, however, when he turned up, the house was empty sans the bodies of the two guards. Sydney Bristow was missing.