Through The Back Door
Disclaimer: I do not own Alias, because if I did then it would still be running new episodes.
A/N: Thanks to all my readers who have made it this far! I re-read the first three chapters, and I realize it's kind of boring, but I put information in those chapters that you'll need to know for later chapters! I promise that it gets more interesting, if not any better written. But I'll try! Thanks!
A/N: I tried to put italics and stuff in my other chapters, but it didn't work. Henceforth, *italics* will be in this form. ____________________________________________________________________________________________
They enter the CIA through the back door, Sydney notes ironically. Everyone in the main room full of desks stares openly at the 'dead' agent. Weiss comes up cautiously as he sees them.
"Sydney?" he says, "Is it really you?"
Sydney nods with a small smile. "It's me. I think."
Weiss has a way of asking things that makes you smile, even on the worst days, she thinks.
"Hey!" he greets, making her smile a little more. She had greeted him the same way when he came back after being shot.
"Come on, Kendall wants you in debrief as soon as possible," Weiss says, gently leading her away.
Sydney feels a lump form in her throat as she tentatively follows Weiss into the interrogation room.
*************************************************************************************************
"Where have you been the past 23 months?" the man barks.
"I don't know!" Sydney spits back sharply.
The man interrogating her is a large man with a gruff, irritating voice. It crosses Sydney's mind that, despite his size, she can probably kill him before he knows what is happening. She finds the thought comforting. He began by trying to intimidate her into talking, and then, when that didn't work, by asking her the same question multiple times to fluster her. He has asked this question at least four times, to her recollection.
The man stands. "You'll undergo a psychological evaluation now. Stay here." He walks out of the room without another word.
Several minutes later, the staff psychologist entered the room.
"Sydney Bristow?" she says. "It is nice to see you again."
Sydney nods absently, as though she has other opinions but considers it wiser not to voice them. She remembers the woman well. She and her father saw Dr. Barnett frequently when Irina Derevko resurfaced.
"Would you follow me to my office? I think you'll be much more comfortable there," she says, looking disdainfully at the hard wooden table and chairs.
Sydney nods again and follows the woman, an acute sense of emptiness seeping into her being.
*************************************************************************************************
"Make yourself comfortable," Dr. Barnett says, gesturing at the couch and armchairs.
Despite herself, Sydney is grateful to sink into the large overstuffed sofa.
"Sydney, do you remember anything form the past two years?" she asks, more gently than the male agent, but nonetheless irritating.
"No. Nothing," Sydney answers shortly.
"Nothing at all? Not even a sense of a passage of time?"
"No. I thought it was only days after that night in my apartment." Tears well in her eyes at the memory of that night.
"Nothing strange, besides being in Hong Kong?"
"No. Well, there was this scar," Sydney admits, her right hand moving to trace the scar through her shirt.
"A scar? From what, do you think?"
"I don't know. It might be from Allison cutting me with something. But I don't remember that."
"Do you remember other specific events that night?"
"Yes. It's all still pretty vivid. I don't think that's where this scar came from," Sydney states firmly.
After an our of questions leading to no where, Dr. Barnett decides to try hypno-regression now instead of wait until later.
Sydney appears calm, but she isn't. She has seen people under this treatment. They seemed to relive everything. She isn't sure she wants to relive what might have happened to her. For one short moment she wishes Vaught were here with her. Then she remembers Amanda.
"Is there anyone you would like to be here for this?" Dr. Barnett asks.
Sydney thinks, yes, my father, my boyfriend, the mother I remember when I was six years old. But she only shakes her head. "No," she says softly. "No one."
Barnett nods. "There is no guarantee you'll remember anything this time. If it's induced amnesia, combined with you current emotional state, then it's probable you won't recall anything after you passed out," she explains.
Sydney let's out a breath. She is glad that, for the moment, she won't remember those two years.
*************************************************************************************************
"You will wake feeling rested and refreshed," Vaughn hears as he slips into the room.
He can see Sydney alone in the room separated from the room he is in by a wall of soundproof glass.
"Anything?" Vaughn asks.
"Nothing. Right now, the last thing she can recall is passing out in her apartment," Barnett replies with a shrug. "When she's had more time to adjust to the idea, and she's a bit more relaxed, it should all come back."
"Can I go see her?" he asks.
"Do you think that would be wise?"
"Probably not. But I want to see her."
"Go ahead. Oh, and Agent Vaughn? I'd like to have you come in for a session next week, if possible. That way it won't go on your record, as it would if I go through Kendall." Barnett's voice drips with the threat. "I think it would be in your best interests to humor me."
Vaughn continues to walk into the room where Sydney sits. As he walks in she makes an obvious effort to hide the tears that streamed down her face as she recalled the fight with Allison, finding Will…
"Sydney. Hi," Vaughn says, not sure what to say now that he is there.
Sydney sniffles. "Hi," she says weakly, her voice wavering gently. "What are you doing here?" she adds.
"Syd, I…I want you to know, I'm on your side…in all of this," he stumbles over the words. "If…If I can help, just let me know, okay?"
Sydney looks down at her hands, at the floor, and up at the ceiling before she looks back at him. "No. I…thanks, but I can handle this without your help." The words come out much sharper than she intends.
Vaughn nods and backs slowly toward the door. "Just know I'm here…if you change your mind." Then he is gone.
Sydney is left waiting in the room while Barnett finishes entering her observations into her computer.
"I took Agent Bristow all the way through the last night she remembers. Starting with the time she arrived home and ending with the time she became unconscious, Agent Sydney Bristow never received a wound an her abdomen, especially not one that would leave a scar of that size."
Little does Barnett know that everything she types is being simultaneously downloaded to a computer halfway around the world and read. Irina Derevko sits in front of a computer screen, thinking that she should have taken more precautions in hiding that scar. Though it can not be realistically linked to her, the CIA will make the connection all the same. She was not expecting the scar to be looked at with any credibility as evidence. It will be interesting to see how long it takes them to discover its origin.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Okay, unless I get dozens of protesters flocking to my reviews (unlikely, I currently only have 5 reviews for this story), I promise not to end with anymore Derevko scenes. I know its irritating, but it *does* make a good ending, no? At least now I bet you can't wait for chapter 5! Speaking of which, it should be up soon, its already written, I just have to type it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Alias, because if I did then it would still be running new episodes.
A/N: Thanks to all my readers who have made it this far! I re-read the first three chapters, and I realize it's kind of boring, but I put information in those chapters that you'll need to know for later chapters! I promise that it gets more interesting, if not any better written. But I'll try! Thanks!
A/N: I tried to put italics and stuff in my other chapters, but it didn't work. Henceforth, *italics* will be in this form. ____________________________________________________________________________________________
They enter the CIA through the back door, Sydney notes ironically. Everyone in the main room full of desks stares openly at the 'dead' agent. Weiss comes up cautiously as he sees them.
"Sydney?" he says, "Is it really you?"
Sydney nods with a small smile. "It's me. I think."
Weiss has a way of asking things that makes you smile, even on the worst days, she thinks.
"Hey!" he greets, making her smile a little more. She had greeted him the same way when he came back after being shot.
"Come on, Kendall wants you in debrief as soon as possible," Weiss says, gently leading her away.
Sydney feels a lump form in her throat as she tentatively follows Weiss into the interrogation room.
*************************************************************************************************
"Where have you been the past 23 months?" the man barks.
"I don't know!" Sydney spits back sharply.
The man interrogating her is a large man with a gruff, irritating voice. It crosses Sydney's mind that, despite his size, she can probably kill him before he knows what is happening. She finds the thought comforting. He began by trying to intimidate her into talking, and then, when that didn't work, by asking her the same question multiple times to fluster her. He has asked this question at least four times, to her recollection.
The man stands. "You'll undergo a psychological evaluation now. Stay here." He walks out of the room without another word.
Several minutes later, the staff psychologist entered the room.
"Sydney Bristow?" she says. "It is nice to see you again."
Sydney nods absently, as though she has other opinions but considers it wiser not to voice them. She remembers the woman well. She and her father saw Dr. Barnett frequently when Irina Derevko resurfaced.
"Would you follow me to my office? I think you'll be much more comfortable there," she says, looking disdainfully at the hard wooden table and chairs.
Sydney nods again and follows the woman, an acute sense of emptiness seeping into her being.
*************************************************************************************************
"Make yourself comfortable," Dr. Barnett says, gesturing at the couch and armchairs.
Despite herself, Sydney is grateful to sink into the large overstuffed sofa.
"Sydney, do you remember anything form the past two years?" she asks, more gently than the male agent, but nonetheless irritating.
"No. Nothing," Sydney answers shortly.
"Nothing at all? Not even a sense of a passage of time?"
"No. I thought it was only days after that night in my apartment." Tears well in her eyes at the memory of that night.
"Nothing strange, besides being in Hong Kong?"
"No. Well, there was this scar," Sydney admits, her right hand moving to trace the scar through her shirt.
"A scar? From what, do you think?"
"I don't know. It might be from Allison cutting me with something. But I don't remember that."
"Do you remember other specific events that night?"
"Yes. It's all still pretty vivid. I don't think that's where this scar came from," Sydney states firmly.
After an our of questions leading to no where, Dr. Barnett decides to try hypno-regression now instead of wait until later.
Sydney appears calm, but she isn't. She has seen people under this treatment. They seemed to relive everything. She isn't sure she wants to relive what might have happened to her. For one short moment she wishes Vaught were here with her. Then she remembers Amanda.
"Is there anyone you would like to be here for this?" Dr. Barnett asks.
Sydney thinks, yes, my father, my boyfriend, the mother I remember when I was six years old. But she only shakes her head. "No," she says softly. "No one."
Barnett nods. "There is no guarantee you'll remember anything this time. If it's induced amnesia, combined with you current emotional state, then it's probable you won't recall anything after you passed out," she explains.
Sydney let's out a breath. She is glad that, for the moment, she won't remember those two years.
*************************************************************************************************
"You will wake feeling rested and refreshed," Vaughn hears as he slips into the room.
He can see Sydney alone in the room separated from the room he is in by a wall of soundproof glass.
"Anything?" Vaughn asks.
"Nothing. Right now, the last thing she can recall is passing out in her apartment," Barnett replies with a shrug. "When she's had more time to adjust to the idea, and she's a bit more relaxed, it should all come back."
"Can I go see her?" he asks.
"Do you think that would be wise?"
"Probably not. But I want to see her."
"Go ahead. Oh, and Agent Vaughn? I'd like to have you come in for a session next week, if possible. That way it won't go on your record, as it would if I go through Kendall." Barnett's voice drips with the threat. "I think it would be in your best interests to humor me."
Vaughn continues to walk into the room where Sydney sits. As he walks in she makes an obvious effort to hide the tears that streamed down her face as she recalled the fight with Allison, finding Will…
"Sydney. Hi," Vaughn says, not sure what to say now that he is there.
Sydney sniffles. "Hi," she says weakly, her voice wavering gently. "What are you doing here?" she adds.
"Syd, I…I want you to know, I'm on your side…in all of this," he stumbles over the words. "If…If I can help, just let me know, okay?"
Sydney looks down at her hands, at the floor, and up at the ceiling before she looks back at him. "No. I…thanks, but I can handle this without your help." The words come out much sharper than she intends.
Vaughn nods and backs slowly toward the door. "Just know I'm here…if you change your mind." Then he is gone.
Sydney is left waiting in the room while Barnett finishes entering her observations into her computer.
"I took Agent Bristow all the way through the last night she remembers. Starting with the time she arrived home and ending with the time she became unconscious, Agent Sydney Bristow never received a wound an her abdomen, especially not one that would leave a scar of that size."
Little does Barnett know that everything she types is being simultaneously downloaded to a computer halfway around the world and read. Irina Derevko sits in front of a computer screen, thinking that she should have taken more precautions in hiding that scar. Though it can not be realistically linked to her, the CIA will make the connection all the same. She was not expecting the scar to be looked at with any credibility as evidence. It will be interesting to see how long it takes them to discover its origin.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Okay, unless I get dozens of protesters flocking to my reviews (unlikely, I currently only have 5 reviews for this story), I promise not to end with anymore Derevko scenes. I know its irritating, but it *does* make a good ending, no? At least now I bet you can't wait for chapter 5! Speaking of which, it should be up soon, its already written, I just have to type it.
