Disclaimer: Everything Alias is the property of JJ Abrams, Bad Robot Productions, ABC, and Touchstone. Please consider this a humble tribute to the genius of the Alias characters and plotlines. No harm intended.
Rating: PG for mild language.
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Authors Note: As usual, I haven't done my research – the parts about brainwashing and the treatment are truly fiction.
Chapter Eleven – Constructing a LifeCarson was trying to prepare Sydney for what was coming. "Sydney, before we start, I want you to know that recovering memory in a case like yours is very difficult. Treatment for your type of memory loss consists of months of cognitive rehabilitation and hypnosis. And sadly, the rate of success is below 50%," Carson said.
"And, we don't have months. For reasons that will become clear as we proceed, there are many people – important people -- that want us to try and recover your memory in four days." Carson paused to check Sydney's reaction. He found it odd that Sydney had not reacted to anything that he said. He continued, "I believe it is impossible that we will be able to recover anything substantial in so short a time. So, I'm recommending that we do more hypnosis, less cognitive rehabilitation, and spend quite a bit of time just giving you the facts of your life.
"If you agree to this treatment, you will be staying here for the next four days. You and I will be working much more than we will be sleeping. After the four days, you'll return to your life, and you will come back to see me on a regular basis where we will continue with the more traditional treatments."
Carson paused again. Sydney simply nodded her head in understanding. "I certain that we can give you all the information you need to return to your life, but if we get started and anything becomes too difficult for you, we can stop at any time."
Sydney looked at him for a moment. "So, there's nothing to lose and everything to gain by trying the four day treatment," she said.
"Yes," Carson replied.
"Okay, lets try it," she said sounding more confident than she felt.
"Good!" Carson tried to sound more enthusiastic than he felt. "Now, I highly recommend including a support person in this process. Usually the support person is a spouse, parent, child, or close friend. You do not have a spouse or child and your father will not be available to participate. That narrows our choices down to Mr. Tippin or Mr. Vaughn. Do you have a preference between these two?"
Sydney thought for a moment, started to say something and then stopped and mutely shook her head.
"My recommendation then would be Mr. Vaughn, merely because he is the only person that you have any recognition of. But, keep in mind that the things we will be talking about are extremely personal. While Mr. Vaughn knows a lot about you, I doubt that he knows everything. I'm sure he will be sensitive to this, but you might become uncomfortable."
Sydney was quiet as she thought about what Carson had said. She was becoming apprehensive about the whole process. Sydney's intuition told her that her life was not a normal life, and somehow Vaughn played a part in it. Without knowing what kind of relationship she had with him in the past, it was difficult to say if she would be comfortable with him going through the treatment with her. But her intuition also told her that Carson wasn't going to offer her very much comfort.
"Is Mr. Vaughn willing to be my… I mean, is he willing to participate in the process?"
Carson smiled, "Yes, he is."
"Then, yes, I would like Mr. Vaughn to join us," she said.
Carson went to the door and called for Vaughn. Vaughn walked into Sydney's room carrying several folders. Carson motioned for him to take a seat at the small table near the window. The sun was setting and it provided a pleasant view – a pleasant view for a hospital room at least.
Carson pulled a third chair up to the table then walked to Sydney's bedside. "It will be easier for all of us if we work at the table," Carson said as he tried to help Sydney out of bed.
Sydney pulled her arm away from the doctor. "I can make it on my own, thank you," she said haughtily. Vaughn smiled recognizing the Sydney that he knew.
She hadn't done much walking since they had rescued her in Taipei, and her steps were slow and shaky. Dr. Carson held out the chair next to Vaughn for her to sit in, then he sat down on the other side of her.
"Lets start by looking through some photos to see if you recognize any of them," Carson said.
Vaughn opened a folder and started shuffling pages of photos around for her to examine. Some were of people, some were of buildings or houses. Sydney vaguely recognized two men: one was Vaughn and the other was Sark.
Vaughn was surprised. He had felt flattered that Sydney recognized him, but now that she had also recognized Sark he wondered what the connection was between them. And he felt just a little jealous.
Carson pulled out the two photos, "Sydney, can you tell me anything about either of these two men?"
Sydney pointed at Vaughn's photo and said, "Yeah, this guy is sitting right next to me." Vaughn smiled again at seeing the old Sydney. Carson was less pleased by her response.
"We have a lot to cover and not much time to do it in," Carson said. Sydney was still studying the photos and never looked at Carson. "Please, take your time, look at them as long as you need to and see if you remember anything about them. Who they are, how you know them, where you've seen them, any feelings you get from them, even the smallest thing is significant."
Sydney bit her lip nervously and finally said, "The only thing I get from these photos are feelings."
"That's good. What kind of feelings?" Carson asked.
She pointed to Sark and said, "I don't like this guy. He gives me the creeps."
"Mmmm," Carson said as he jotted something on his note pad. "And this man?" he prodded as he pointed at Vaughn's photo.
Sydney felt like a 14-year-old girl having to talk about the guy she had a crush on. She glanced at Vaughn out of the corner of her eye and could feel herself blush. "This guy," she pointed to Vaughn's photo, "Is just the opposite. I like him, I can't say why exactly..." She hesitated, "He makes me feel safe. He's comfortable… he feels like home." It was Vaughn's turn to blush now.
"So, you trust this man," Carson pointed at Vaughn with his pen, "Michael Vaughn?"
Sydney and Vaughn made eye contact for the first time. She studied his face intently, searched his hazel eyes mercilessly. His pulse quickened under the intensity of her eyes. He felt inexplicably vulnerable; he felt as if she were reaching for his soul.
"Yes, I do," Sydney said while still looking at him.
Carson quietly observed the two of them. When they finally broke their shared gaze and looked at him, Carson frowned thoughtfully and made more notes on his note pad.
For the next 30 minutes, Carson walked Sydney though various photos. He was careful to avoid those that were associated with the CIA or SD-6. They discussed Will and Francie, her house, her father's house, and the university. There were no shocks for Sydney during those first 30 minutes, Carson wanted to ease her into it slowly.
When the three of them returned to the table after taking a short break, Carson laid the page that displayed the photographs of her father and her mother. "Okay, Sydney, here's where things get rough." He paused. She nodded her willingness to continue. "You have no recognition of these people?" She shook her head. "No feelings?"
"Nothing," Sydney said.
Carson sighed. "You already know that this is your father, and this, of course is your mother. Your mother, Laura, died when you were young, and your father raised you." Sydney showed no emotion, but simply nodded. "Your father, Jack, is an active operative for the CIA."
Sydney showed surprise only in her body language – she sat up a little straighter in her chair as if she were paying more attention now. "You, Sydney, also are an active operative for the CIA," Carson continued. Sydney's surprise was evident in her eyes, but she still remained silent. "The reason why you can't remember anything is because on your last assignment, you were captured and drugged – specifically to destroy your memory."
"Brainwashed," Sydney said matter-of-factly.
"Yes," Carson said. "I'm a physician on the CIA staff. This is a CIA hospital."
"All the men in the hallway are CIA," Sydney said.
"Yes." Carson looked at her waiting for some kind of reaction, but she gave none. "Sydney, aren't you surprised by any of this?"
"If you mean, did I think I was a CIA agent, no, of course not. But now that you've said it, it doesn't seem so strange to me," she replied. Carson made a few notes on his pad. "Is that bad?" she asked.
"I don't know," Carson said truthfully. "We might not know until we get all of your life in place for you."
Carson introduced the few people she knew from the CIA, leaving Vaughn for last. "And Vaughn, here, is your handler," Carson said. Sydney looked at Vaughn and smiled awkwardly. "All undercover agents have a handler – one intelligence officer that meets with them, gives them their assignments, and keeps them in touch with the company. Your life rests in his hands, and while it isn't usually the case," Carson shot Vaughn a disapproving glance, "His life has been in your hands more than once."
"I'm an undercover agent?" Sydney asked. "What kind of assignments have I been on?"
"You're active on a long term undercover assignment," Carson said. Sydney wondered why Vaughn didn't talk much. "SD-6 is an organization that claims to be an intelligence agency – actually part of the CIA. This organization is, in fact, part of an alliance that deals guns and drugs, among other things. You worked for them for seven years before you found out the truth. And when you did,"
"I went to the CIA," Sydney said interrupting Carson.
"Exactly right. Do you remember that?" Carson said hopefully.
"Maybe. I have a vague memory of walking across a marble floor that had the CIA badge on it," Sydney answered.
"That's excellent!" Carson said as he made another note on his pad.
Sydney looked at Vaughn, "So, I'm a double agent?"
Vaughn nodded his head.
"Your father is also a double agent, Sydney," Carson said. "He's an SD-6 officer, one of the few that knows the truth about SD-6."
"Is that how I found out? Did my father tell me?"
Vaughn looked nervously at Carson. How much would he tell her?
Carson hesitated, "Yes, he told you about it."
Carson started laying out the pages of photos of people that she knew through her job at SD-6. It took much longer to detail these people than it had all the other people in her life. Carson was trying to set a good foundation for Sydney to work with when she returned to SD-6. They discussed Dixon and Marshall. McCullough and Dreyer. Anna Espinosa. The three other agents that Sydney had partnered with before Dixon. And then Sloane and his wife.
"This is Arvin Sloane. He's the head of SD-6 – he's your boss. He's not a good man, Sydney. You don't care for him… at all," Carson said.
"Why not?" Sydney asked. "I mean besides the fact that he works for the organization and lies about its purpose."
"We will get into that more later," Carson didn't think she was ready for that yet. He pointed to the photo of a woman next to the photo of Sloane. "This is Emily Sloane. You and her were friends for many years. Even though you disliked your boss, you liked Emily. The two of you were very close."
Sydney nodded as she studied Emily's photo. "While you were on your last mission, Sydney, Sloane and Emily were poisoned. Emily died and Sloane is still in ICU at an SD-6 hospital."
"What?" Sydney said with a quizzical look on her face. There was no sadness on her face, just confusion.
"That is all we know. Both the CIA and SD-6 are investigating it."
"Is there any connection between what happened to me on that last mission and what happened to them?" Sydney asked.
"We don't think so," Carson said. It was promising that she was still thinking like an agent.
Carson looked at his watch. "It's 9:00 and we haven't had supper yet," he said as he stood up and stretched. "Do you have any requests?" he asked Sydney.
"Mmmm, can we get a pizza here?" Sydney asked. "Pepperoni and black olives?"
"This is the CIA, Sydney. We can arrange most anything," he smiled at her. "Lets take a break. I'll get one of our doormen to go get us some supper."
As Carson walked away Sydney leaned over to Vaughn and whispered, "Have I heard the worst of it?"
Vaughn checked over his shoulder to make sure Carson wasn't close enough to hear him. "I'm afraid not."