Bargaining can be with ourselves or if you are religious with your god. Often we will offer something to try to take away the reality of what has happened. We may try to make a deal, to have our loved one back as they were before the tragic event occured.

"Jack, hello. Hold on a moment." Dr. Barnett scribbled furiously on the legal pad on her desk as Jack Bristow sat stiffly in one of the chairs opposite her. Smiling as she finished the doctor folder her hands on top of the smooth mahogany desk. "How's Sydney doing? Has she done anything unusual?"

Jack thought back to the day before, and was swept back into the memory.

The door was cool to the touch, and heavy when he pulled on the ornamented handles. Breathing the spiced air deep into his lungs, Jack was reminded of his youth, the Sundays his parents would bring him to Church to listen to sermons that lasted for hours.


The sanctuary that he entered was much like the one he took Sydney to as a child. Laura had not been raised in religion, but Jack felt it was necessary for Sydney to experience sitting in wooden pew and listening to a man preach. They stopped when Laura died, and when Jack ceased to be "Daddy". Neither had returned to a place of worship since.


He could see her brown hair cascading in front of her face, not quite blocking her features from view. From the angle he stood, light illuminated the teardrops that dripped from her chin onto her folded hands, giving him the feeling she was crying light from her eyes.


Not many things could upset Jack Bristow, but somehow seeing his daughter pray for the first time in twenty years unnerved him.


Taking a seat in the back row of the pews, he continued to observe Sydney, from the way her hair fell to the way her lips moved quickly in prayer. The words were undistinguishable from his vantage point, but he knew deep down that his daughter was asking for something.

 
Suddenly feeling terrible out of place and conspicuous, Jack left the quiet sanctuary. Once outside he let out a long breath; he had unknowingly been holding it in during his visit. There was a part of him, buried deep within his childhood that was terrified of being condemned for the life he led. But then his mind sharply reminded him that it was all foolish nonsense, and he returned to his car to wait for Sydney to exit.


"My daughter went to church for the first time in nearly twenty years," he replied stoically, fixing his gaze on the plaques behind the doctor's head.

"And?" Dr. Barnett asked, somewhat annoyed. "That's common for people who have suffered loss. Why is that unusual to you?"

"Sydney always saw Church as something linked to me. I was always the one to take her, so once we became estranged, she refused to go."

Dr. Barnett tapped her fingers on the clipboard; sessions with Agent Bristow were trying because he was so guarded. Hardly anything was ever revealed during his visits. Her annoyance was stifled, however, when he began to talk on his own accord.

"Seeing her pray, it gave me the feeling she thought that she was out of options. Perhaps she thinks turning to God will bring her friend back.

"I know Sydney is a rational person, but it seems like every thing she has ever believed in has gone out the window once again." Jack looked at his hands briefly before returning his eyes to the plaques. "She turned in a letter of resignation this morning. I didn't order it through, however. She's not emotionally stable, and I know she wants Sloane captured before she leaves the Agency."

You think it's a possibility that she thinks quitting the CIA will restore her friend? I imagine Ms. Bristow to have a better grip on reality than you portray."

Jack's eyes turned stone cold, and for the first time his eyes met those of the doctors. "I think I know my daughter better than you could ever understand. So many personal deaths have taken a huge toll on her emotional state. This last one has sent her over the edge."

"That's understandable. And what you are saying is a common stage of grief; bargaining to return the loved one. You know that as well as I do," she added knowingly. Jack Bristow knew too well all the stages of grief.

Nodding briskly, Jack made as if to leave. "Are we finished?"

"Almost. How did you know Sydney was at the church?"

His eyes hardened once again, and the fatigue was made clear under his eyes. "Agent Vaughn, and Mr. Tippin and I have been monitoring Sydney constantly. One of us always knows where she is and what she is doing."

Frowning slightly, she asked, "Hasn't she noticed?"

"No. And that's what worries me." Jack thought to their shifts: Vaughn had the night, Will watched her in the mornings, and Jack was designated for the afternoons. There was always the chance of relief: their shifts were constantly changing by Sydney's schedule. "We're keeping her safe." He rose swiftly, ending the conversation.

Dr. Barnett rose as well. "Thank you for the report. I'll expect to hear from someone in a few days." She watched Jack leave the office, smiling sadly at the amount of care Sydney Bristow received.

Settling herself down, the doctor jotted some more notes before the next agent arrived.

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update! This chapter was a total b**** to write, and the only way I got through it was because of Elektra. She's awesome.