AN- Yes, I'm a very slow writer. This I realize. But there's only one more chapter left, and I've already started it, so hopefully it will be up soon. The poem used towards the end of this chapter is Love Sonnet XI by Pablo Neruda. And the medicine I used is just something I completely made up, so if you lose two years of your life mysteriously, don't go asking your doctor for some of it!
Ar dheis Dé go raibh a h-anam
Hold My Hands, Please
Suddenly, as quickly as it had fallen silent, the chaotic chatter resumed. She was flashed several bright smiles, and got a few waves. The other, newer agents she assumed bowed their heads back down to their work. She could hear keywords such as 'Hong Kong' and 'missing for two years' and knew that even if they weren't all staring at her, they were certainly still interested.
"Agent Bristow, I'm honored to have you back," Kendall said, walking up to her. He gave her what she took to be a form of a smile, and reached out to shake her hand.
It matters. It matters a whole hell of a lot.
"Thank you," she said meekly.
"Well," Kendall started off, instantly changing from the kind, caring man to his usual self, "you need to get down to medical services immediately, and then see Barnett for a pre-hearing."
Sydney nodded, and then turned to head down the hallway where medical services was located.
"Whoa," Vaughn said as he grabbed her upper arm. He turned her body around completely, so she was facing the entrance to the rotunda and said, "Medical services was relocated to the basement. Go that way and take the staircases down; you'll wait forever on the elevator."
"Thanks," she said, trying to ignore the stinging spot where his hand had made contact with her arm.
He flashed her a smile and then sat down at his desk, turning his attention onto his work.
She made her way to medical services, this time without interruptions, and rapped lightly on the glass door that separated the medical ward from the rest of the floor.
"Hello, I'm Doctor Nguyen, and you must be Sydney Bristow," a cheerful voice greeted her, after a young Asian man opened the door. He had a bright smile, but it wasn't a fake, phony smile that made her want to pull her hair out. It was comforting and warm, and made her feel less volatile.
"Yes, I am," Sydney replied, sending him one of her first smile since Vaughn had shown up in the safehouse.
"Well, I know this won't be the most fun thing, but uh…" he said, handing her a green hospital gown. "You'll have to wear this. Don't bother taking off your undergarments, I'm sure we won't have to go that far."
Sydney almost groaned, but complied. She followed his finger that pointed to an area that was closed off by curtains, and changed from her present outfit into the gown. It was, however, better than most hospital gowns she had been in, as it zipped up in the back instead of the single tie she was used too.
She moved the curtain towards the side of the wall, and looked around for the doctor.
"One moment Agent Bristow, I just need to grab my stethoscope," the doctor's voice came.
"All right," Dr. Nguyen said, popping up unexpectedly behind Sydney. "I need to perform a standard physical, so if you will hop up on the table, we can get this done with."
"First, I'd like you to breathe in deeply," he said, sticking the stethoscope on her back. "This is simply a check to make sure you still have lungs."
Sydney would have laughed, but she tried to concentrate on the doctor's orders.
"Yep, you're good. Both lungs are fully intact. Now, this time I'd like you to turn to the side so I can look in your ears."
Sydney did this, but with some reservation. She had never liked having something stuck in her ears, and because of this she scrunched up her face in anticipation.
"What is that face for? I haven't even looked in your ears yet!" the doctor cried in a humorous tone.
"I'm expecting it, which is half of the battle."
The doctor looked in her ears, with Sydney hating every second of it, and then in her nose and mouth.
"Now, if you'll lie down, we'll see that everything is in its proper place."
She scooted down, and his hands probed her torso.
"Oww!" Sydney cried as he pressed near where her scar was.
"Where does it hurt?" the doctor asked, all traces of his earlier wit gone.
Sydney moved his finger slowly until it was directly on top of the scar. "Right there. There's a scar there, one that I don't remember. It's about two inches long, or so."
Dr. Nguyen pressed on it a little bit; Sydney flinched and bit her lip.
"Can you lift up the gown a little bit, so I can see it?"
Sydney nodded and did so, revealing the scar and the red splotch around it.
After a few minutes of examining the scar and the skin around it, the doctor announced, "I wouldn't worry about it. It seems that your abductors were concerned about your safety. I'm almost ninety-nine percent sure that your scar is from an appendectomy, or the removal of your appendix. I'll have to x-ray you to make sure, but it's in the right position, and is the right length for one."
"Is that good?" Sydney asked, slightly worried.
"It can be good, if your appendix was inflamed, but it won't affect you if it wasn't. The appendix does nothing other than get in the way," the doctor said, pulling the gown back down and turning his attention to her right arm.
"Where were you found again?"
"Hong-Kong," Sydney replied.
The doctor nodded and reached behind him, pulling out a mirror. "Your abductors must have been paranoid about your health." He pulled Sydney's arm up and positioned the mirror so she could see a small imprint, about the size of a tack, on the upper side of her arm. "That's what the vaccine against SARS leaves."
The rest of the physical went fairly quickly, and an x-ray was scheduled for the next day. Although she had received a clean bill of health, Sydney knew she would not be going home that night. She walked down to the rotunda and scanned the faces until she found her father, who was talking to Kendall.
"Agent Bristow, you're scheduled to see Dr. Barnett in ten minutes. I would suggest you get a move on," Kendall said before she could even reach them.
Sydney turned around, choosing not to respond, but she did as he requested.
When Sydney reached the door, which was wide open, she noticed the change in decoration. The room was now a pale, minty green with golden accents.
"Agent Bristow, please come in. This won't take but ten minutes," Barnett beckoned.
Sydney flashed the physiatrist a semi-content smile, and took her seat on the couch.
"It's good to see you again, Agent Bristow," the older woman said, coming to lean against her desk in front of Sydney.
"And you."
"Now, you'll obviously be going through regression therapy, but in the last two years numerous medical advances have been made. One, is this drug," Barnett said, holding up a tiny bottle of clear liquid marked Adoctate 13X. "Which helps the mind to remember. It's certainly no cure-all, but it does help allow the mind to open up to regression therapy. If you allow it, we'd like to give you a dosage tonight, so that we can begin regression tomorrow."
"Of course," Sydney whispered.
"I also have to warn you of the side-effects. You may begin to feel dizzy, faint or sick to the stomach. You may experience rapid flashbacks, have dreams that don't make any sense, and see things from the past for split-seconds. The latter effects are usual, and shouldn't be anything more than a simple nuisance. However, the things that you see should be written down or monitored. Things that you see only once could simply be a dream that is being remembered, but reoccurring events are typically a true memory of something that has happened."
"Okay."
"Well then, you can have 40 milliliters tonight, and 40 more tomorrow at noon," Barnett said, handing her the bottle.
Sydney gulped down the medicine and nearly choked on the acidic taste of it.
*
Four hours later, Sydney was lying in her bed asleep, and the last of the CIA agents were packing up to leave. One, however, was watching Sydney sleep, a content look on his face.
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring
in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
