The moment Syd stood up she felt light headed, but she ignored it and slowly marched to the head of the table. Each face she passed seemed more and more resentful to her, each one seeming to say "Leave" or "Bitch", for once she felt completely uncomfortable in front of them. Reaching the head of the table her skull felt like it was about to split in two. "Scratch the vodka." Syd thought to herself and chuckled, making more heads turn and her face to snap up. Looking into the men's stony glares she began to speak "Vaughn..." but that was all she got out before her eyes got big, and all of a sudden the room began to close in, her peripheral vision fading black, and she crumpled like a rag doll onto the cold floor.

Sydney woke up in her father's office, on the stiff black leather couch stretched out at the end the cramped square space. Her head felt as if someone had taken AK-47 and hit her with the barrel, which had happened before. Not wanting to open her eyes, photophobia plagued her vision. A cold compress lay on her forehead and something was on her legs, daring to open one soar eye she looked around. The room was too bright, always too bright, yet it seemed the sun was directly in front of her. As she regained her bearings what had happened just moments before all came rushing back to her.

Tears started streaming down her face, contrasting with the coolness of the washcloth they burned like hot coals on her cheeks. Closing her eyes she began to sob again, she cried for herself, for Vaughn, for what she did and what she didn't do. Everything was different, and yet she knew how to handle differences this was not the same. Her world was upside down, and every time her mind wandered, it strayed right back to that evening when chess became a horrible game, especially when it was played with one's life.

"Syd? You coming around?" Snapping back to attention, Sydney looked up at her father's concerned gaze. "Do you remember anything about what happened?" Syd cringed and nodded, trying not to make eye contact with the tall figure before her. "I'm fine. Can I please go home?" Jack continued to stare at Sydney's face, making each second that ticked by feel like an eternity. "Yes, Kendall said when you woke up you could go home." A relieved sigh slipped from between Syd's lips, feeling as though the weight of the world had lifted from her shoulders.

Staggering to her feet Syd tossed the scratchy wool blanket from her bare shoulders. Jack must have taken her new blazer off, leaving only her sleeveless, turtleneck, cashmere sweater to cover her. Her feet felt as if they had blocks of cement on them, and her legs added to the weight. "Oh God." She groaned, stumbling clumsily from the leather couch to the sliding door of her father's office. "Thanks Dad, and tell Kendall I apologize. I'll see you tomorrow." Jack nodded, still looking deeply concerned for his faltering daughter. He knew this had hurt her badly, never before had he seen her so frazzled. He wanted to hold her up, to be the rock she leaned on, but he knew it was too late, even now, to do such a thing.

"Goodbye Sydney, feel better." Jack watched as his daughter walked from his office, realizing that now, more than ever, she was so vulnerable. Never had he seen Sydney so defenseless, she usually had an aura about her that made her confident, even when she was depressed. But this one time, Syd seemed broken down more than ever and he wondered if she'd ever be the same.