A/N: Thank y'all for the reviews for the last chapter. Glad everyone seemed to have enjoyed the twist (or maybe not, considering what that might mean for our Bama Boy...)

Savannah: Thank you for the compliment. You make me blush.

Whatshername: I love Pride/LaSalle moments. TV Guide quoted that LaSalle will be struggling from the events of last season and will need Pride to mentor him, so I hope that means the writers will give us some quality Father/Surrogate Son moments this season.

Thank you to my new follower and reviewer: InThisFieldOfPaperFlowers. Glad to have you on board.

One Who Flew Over the Cookoo's Nest

Brody looked over her shoulder, glaring heatedly at the orderlies before turning her attention back to Sam. "I got a message from LaSalle an hour ago. He was at the gun range with Pride. You can listen to it yourself."

Sam held out his hand. "Let me see your phone."

Brody reached for her phone and unlocked the screen, swiping to recent calls.

"There's nothing here." Sam gave her a pathetic look as he pointed out the list of missed callers, none of which bared LaSalle's name.

"I..uh…must…of eased it." An uneasy pit began to form in her stomach. Someone had gotten to her phone. Hastily, she hit the speed dial for LaSalle.

The number you have reached is no longer in service, please hang up and try your call again.

This wasn't happening. She was with Chris this morning, in the shower. They were kissing and even though it wasn't great it was real. She clearly remembered being cocooned in his arms while he shielded her from the water. Her mind couldn't make up something like that. Could it?

Her voice started to wobble as she tried to plead her case, again earning a pitied look.

Sam motioned for the orderlies to advance forcing Brody's hand. Whirling around, she drew her weapon.

"Don't take another step!" She purposely, stepped back standing at an angle so that she had all of the men in her sights. Unknowingly, she had just given Sam the evidence he needed to begin a regiment of psychotherapy. Drawing a weapon in a government building was a federal offense. One of which Sam could play a couple of different ways.

"Put the gun down, Merri." He said gently as several armed men, wearing Kevlar entered the room.

"Drop your weapon!"

Tears began to form on Brody's lashes in the realization that either she had just played into Fod's hands or she had been living in some sort of warped reality in which LaSalle might really gone.

"Call Pride!" she yelled averting her eyes to Sam. "Get him on the phone now!"

"You're in no position to be making demands, Miss." One of the men growled back, his intent becoming clear. "Put the gun down."

Three against one, the odds were not in her favor. Two she might be able to take, but not three.

Meredith Brody was in hell. Restrained in a hospital bed, in a white sterile room she was virtually helpless. They'd taken her clothes and her shoes and replaced them with a loose fitting pair of off-white cotton pants, white socks and a matching top, so that she looked like she was dressed in an ugly pair of scrubs.

"Meredith can you hear me?" Sam asked.

Brody turned her head towards him. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because everything I see in you indicates that you've suffered a psychotic break."

A psychotic break. She almost laughed. "What did he do to you, Sam?"

"He?" The normally witty doctor looked at her confused.

"Fod!" Merri roared pressing against her restraints. If she could just free herself then she could make him see reason. Fod was behind this and LaSalle was not dead.

"Adkom Fod? The man responsible for having Agent LaSalle killed?" Sam looked down at his feet. "Merri, Fod is no longer a threat. It was all over the news. The President sent SEAL Team Six after him. They captured him weeks ago."

That was not possible she relented. She had spoken to him on the phone when she and Chris were in Florida. "First of all, LaSalle is NOT dead. Get it through your head. Nothing you say or do will make me believe that!"

"That's unfortunate," Sam replied softly as she narrowed her eyes. "The sooner you get into touch with reality, the sooner you can go back to living your life." He reached into his pocket and took out a piece of paper that had been folded in half.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked opening the paper.

"It's a death certificate." She said, remaining calm.

"And whose name is on it?"

Christopher LaSalle

Brody saw the words but refused to read them out loud. If she did she might just crack and then she would be forced to believe that Chris was gone forever.

Sam sank into the chair beside her bed. "Don't you remember, you were with Loretta when she signed it?"

Stubbornly, Brody shook her head. A death certificate was such a simple document to forge. Any fool with a half a mind to operate a computer could fabricate one.

"It isn't real." She said woodenly.

"Look at it again. It has a state seal."

Brody looked at him with disgust. "What do you need me to say? LaSalle's dead?" she tossed out sarcastically. "That he died in that ally way and that you were the knight in shining armor that swooped in to save me? There, I said it. Now, let me go!"

Sam shook his head, a slight grin coming to his face. He was no hero. "I'm afraid, it's not that simple. You pulled your weapon in federal facility. That alone is worth a complete psych evaluation with a minimum of a 72 hour hold." He pulled to his feet. "I'm going to have a nurse come in and give you something that will help clear your head."

"Sam!" Brody yelled, again pulling against her restraints. "Sam, get back here!"

Outside, Sam could still hear her calling out to him. Hanging his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He hated what he was doing to her but he didn't have a choice. Eventually, he could call Pride, but not until he'd had the time to thoroughly assess her. For now, he would allow the proper chain of command to notify the Senior agent.

Days later, after she had proven she could remain calm, Brody sat on the floor with her knees drawn up to her chest, her head pressed solidly up against the drywall. Whatever they had given her, was doing more than calming her head. It was turning her mind into Jell-O; a pile of mush who couldn't control her own thoughts. One minute, she was filled with uplifting thoughts and determination and the next she was paranoid as all get out.

Hallucinations were beginning to plaque her: Chris, Pride, Fod, Sophie, even her deceased twin, Emily. They would all appear promising to take her out of here but as soon as she moved they would disappear. She really was beginning to believe that she was losing her mind.

Mechanically, she started to rock her head against the wall causing a knocking sound. The slight discomfort it was causing was real, so why wasn't anything else?

She flinched as the door opened and a male figure entered and knelt beside her.

"Merri?"

"Chris?" she hiccupped as her heart skipped a beat.

"Try again."

Her heart sank. It was Sam. Unfortunately, he was the only person that she could count on as being real and that wasn't saying much.

"What do you want?" she snarled.

Sam sank to the floor, sitting in front her with his legs criss-crossed. "What I've always wanted." he said softly. "I want you to get better so that you can get out of here."

Brody, allowed a rueful grin to spread across her lips. "LaSalle and Pride, they'll come for me and when they do you'll be sorry."

"Well, maybe Pride will, but not LaSalle. We both know that is just not possible." Sam said, gently.

Brody squeezed her eyes shut tight in time her head connecting with the wall. "STOP STAYING THAT! JUST STOP!"

"Very well, we'll talk about something else then. How about the flashbacks and the reoccurring nightmares. Are you still dreaming about that night in the ally way?"

The answer was no but Brody refused to answer. She knew that if she did, Sam would some how tie it back to LaSalle and she didn't want to hear anymore about how the man that she loved was no longer part of this world and that he died in her arms crap. She would just wait it out. So, far it had been three days. She had three more to go. If, she could stay strong for just thirty-six more hours, she would home free and back in Chris' arms.

Part of her wondered however, if this still wasn't Fod and that the intent was for her to leave this place in a pine box. If that were the case she going to need more than her hope of being reunited with LaSalle to stay alive. She was going to need her wits.

Defiantly, she began to hum in effort to block Sam out. If she ignored him long enough, maybe he would go away. As he continued to speak, she began to rock harder, banging her head into the wall to the point that it was really starting to hurt.

"I need you to stop, Merri." Sam started to reach for her, causing the agent to spring forward. As Sam fell, backwards, she straddled him and reached for the jugular. Using both hands, she started to squeeze as hard as she could. She watched as his face begin to turn red, surprised that she had this much strength. She was also surprised that he wasn't fighting back.

"Just tell me the truth!" she growled. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Oblivious to the fact, that he couldn't speak, she listened as he started to gasp for air. She was so intent in what she was doing that she didn't see him pull a syringe from the pocket of his white lab coat. By the time she realized what was happening Sam was already jabbing her in the neck.

"He is threatening my niece." He said, as she released her grip and fell to the floor. Her eyes were still open, trying to fight off the threatening sleep as he pulled to his feet. Uselessly, she tugged at his pant leg as the drug started to take effect.

"I'm sorry, Merri. I never wanted to hurt you." he swallowed pulling his leg free from her fingers. He waited until she was completely out before dropping back down and hefting her into his arms and depositing her back into her bed. After composing himself, Sam walked out of the room making his way to the nurses station.

Palming the counter, he spoke to a plump nurse nearing her forties, "Maggie, I need you to do something personal for me." he reached for a packet of sticky notes and a pen that were sitting beside his hand. "I need you to be discrete. Use your own personal phone and don't let anyone else see you. Call this number and ask for Agent LaSalle. Tell him to come alone."

A/N: So is Sam actually a good guy or is he helping Fod set a trap for LaSalle? The action is starting to mount!