Title: Raw Precision
Author: UConnFan (Michele)
E-Mail: LoveUConnBasketball@yahoo.com
Story Summary: Post "The Telling"; be warned, it picks up immediately where ep leaves off.
DISCLAIMER: Don't own. Never will. Dream job is a writer on this show, but I'm only seventeen so I'll stick to fanfiction.
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Sydney thanked the orderly and insisted on walking into the room on her own. To no great surprise her Father, Vaughn, Dixon and Kendall were there, but she was surprised to see Director Devlin sitting next to her Father. Kendall welcomed her and motioned for her to take her customary seat next to Vaughn.
"Agent Bristow, how are you feeling?" Director Devlin asked.
"Honestly, I'm still trying to understand how all of this could have happened," she sincerely answered. She decided it would be wise to not mention the emotional upheaval she was undergoing. That much should have been obvious to even the most untrained eye. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but is all of this necessary? Couldn't I just write down what I remember? It's what I did when I first became a double."
"Yes, it is, but your memories been compromised Agent Bristow. Don't get me wrong, I trust you but neither I nor you should trust any memory you have from the past two years," Kendall explained. "We're hopeful that you can be out of here in a few days. If you can't make arrangements to stay somewhere the CIA will arrange a safe house for you until you get on your feet."
Sydney silently thanked him and nodded her consent.
"I think we're all familiar with the last few hours you remember, but why don't you go over it with us," the former FBI director suggested.
"Do you really think that's necessary?" Jack protested.
Ben Devlin spoke up, "Jack, I think this could be helpful. This might help Sydney in the long run. Take your time Agent Bristow," he advised.
Sydney nodded, pushed her hair behind her ears and folded her hands. "I had made plans to go away with a friend for the weekend," she glossed over the details as Vaughn looked at his own hands, the pain appearing when she referred to him as a friend. "Agent Vaughn dropped me off at my home and when I went in Francie was there. She was reading a magazine and said she didn't know where Will was. We were just sitting in the living room, I was eating ice cream and she was reading her magazine. I checked my voicemail. . One was from Mary Beth, from Director Kendall's office, and other one was Will. . He had found evidence in my bathroom that led him to believe that Francie was the double . . . I offered the woman I believed to be Francie some of my ice cream and when she accepted it, I knew she was a double."
"Would you care to elaborate Agent Bristow?" Devlin asked.
"I had coffee ice cream. One thing my best friend couldn't stand was coffee ice cream. Real Francie would never have had some of it, but the double forgot that little detail."
"What happened after you discovered the truth about Miss Doran?" Kendall demanded.
Sydney sighed and struggled to retell that horrible night. "I went to my room to get my gun from under my bed. I told Francie I was going to go get changed. . Or something, I don't remember," she brushed hair out of her face. "I was knelt down getting the gun when Allyson appeared and told me that she just remembered that Francie doesn't like coffee ice cream. We ended up fighting. . We were in every room of the apartment. . I tossed a kitchen drawer at her and we pushed each other into cabinets and walls and mirrors . . .Somehow we ended up back in the bedroom. By then both of us were in pretty bad shape. . She tossed me into a mirror but lost the gun in the process. When she went to get it I cut her with a large shard of glass. . I managed to get the gun," she struggled at the tears that were there, that would probably always be there, when she retold this story. "I shot her. I shot her three times. . . The third time she fell to the ground."
"Then what happened?" Devlin persisted.
"I don't remember. I fell back. . I think I probably passed out . . . I'd seen Will in the bathtub when we were fighting in the bathroom and I thought he was dead . . . My last thoughts . . . All I could think that Will and Francie were dead, and that I was in a lot of pain. . I remember wishing that Vaughn would get there soon . . . Then I blacked out," she concluded. Unintentionally she'd slipped Vaughn's name in, too wrapped up in her recount to gloss over his presence. "I woke up in this alley in Hong Kong, I was confused. I found a phone booth and called the CIA. Initially I thought I'd been kidnapped, that someone had dropped me off in that alley . . . Then Vaughn arrived and . . . And I found out everything."
Kendall nodded and picked up at thick file. "Agent Vaughn's account goes that he arrived and you were gone. The forensic team found enough blood that we believed that you had severe blood loss but we were uncertain of whether or not you were dead. We had agents in government organizations all over the world looking for you Agent Bristow, for you, your Mother and Arvin Sloane. Then suddenly you turn up, out of the blue, almost two years later in Hong Kong."
"So you think my reappearance is some move in my Mother and Sloane's master plan?"
"I believe that Arvin Sloane had no qualms about using you as a pawn," Kendall reminded her. "Which is why, when you do leave our custody, we'd like to give you constant protection. Your Mother or Sloane could contact you at any time."
"You don't believe I willingly left, do you?" Sydney's words were clipped as Kendall shot her a smirk.
"Give me a little more credit Agent Bristow, no one in this room believes that. If anyone of any credence believed it, we wouldn't be giving you such a lavish room in medical services."
The last word that came to Sydney's mind was lavish when she imagined the room in medical services, but compared to the cell her Mother had been housed it, it was lush. "Where is Sark?"
"He was transferred to Camp Harris over a year ago. Once you disappeared he quickly stonewalled as to your possible location," her Father explained
"It was all an elaborate set up," she realized.
Dixon spoke, "perhaps. We have no way of proving whether or not Sark knew or if Sloane was involved at all."
"I think it's irresponsible to believe that Arvin Sloane was *not* somehow involved, directly or indirectly, in Sydney's disappearance," Vaughn added. Sydney cast him a brief sideways glance - it was the first time he'd spoken since she'd arrived in the room. "She wouldn't have just walked out of that apartment of her own free will, not with the condition both Will and Francie were in."
"Vaughn's right," Jack confirmed. "We might not have any hard evidence to tie him to her disappearance but we don't have any evidence that proves him innocent either. I know Arvin and he has ways of making evidence disappear."
His daughter nodded and considered the possibility that Sloane had ways of making memories vanish as quickly as evidence. "Doctor Vaughn's recommendation is we start regression therapy sessions once you're out of our custody and beginning to assimilate back into your life. Now Agent Bristow we're not entirely sure you'll be able to recover all your memories, but we'd like you to do your best. The process is going to take time and it's going to be a standing order that you see Dr. Vaughn at least weekly until we've pieced together most of your missing memories."
Despite her own distaste for the assignment she conceded. Two years hadn't deteriorated Kendall's annoying but effective attitude. "Agent Bristow, not to interfere with your private life, but have you considered where you'd be staying?"
"She could stay with me," Jack offered.
Sydney immediately began to protest, "Dad, I couldn't."
"Your my daughter Sydney, it's no trouble," he assured her.
"Now that that's settled," Kendall cut in. "We'd like to keep you for a few more days. We still have some test results we're waiting for."
"Including my lie detector test?" she asked testily.
"What?" Vaughn's eyes widened as he looked at Kendall.
At nearly the same time Jack had a similar reaction, "you gave her a *lie* detector test?"
"Gentleman we had to be certain she wasn't lying to us. No, Agent Bristow, you'll be happy to know you passed with flying colors."
"Were you expecting anything different?" Jack shot out.
Vaughn continued, "Sydney isn't a criminal. We shouldn't be treating her as if she's done something wrong. She's a victim in all of this."
"Thank you Agent Vaughn, I think I know how to do my job," Kendall snapped. "Would you like to return to your position or do you care to stay on in this investigation?" he asked pointedly. With no other option the younger man silenced and sat back in his seat.
Devlin spoke, "Agent Bristow we'd like to make you two offers. Given your history, after you've completed your regression therapy we'd like to give you the option of returning to work here or joining the Witness Protection Program. Of course you cannot return to work for us and not join the program, but we'd like you to realize that both options are available to you. If you do choose to join the program we'd have to request you stay here until your regression therapy is over instead of entering back into society."
"I don't want to go into the program," she wearily shook her head. Even though sitting next to Vaughn, knowing he belonged to Dr. Rebecca Cox Vaughn and was apparently in love with the doctor hurt Sydney; she couldn't imagine leaving her family and friends again. Especially not when her Father needed her. All Jack Bristow had was Sydney, and she had realized that little unmentioned tidbit during the late night travels of her mind. She'd unwillingly left him for two years, and she wasn't going to leave him again.
"Well then Agent Bristow, you're welcome to return to work for us. Either as an analyst or an agent, I'd say you're qualified with whatever you'd prefer," Devlin assured her.
Jack popped in with another suggestion, "I'm sure linguistics could use your expertise as well, should you choose that path."
"Thank you," she said as she stifled a yawn. "I'm sorry, I didn't sleep well."
"Why don't we do this later?" Jack suggested. "Sydney's not going to leave. I think everyone here can agree that this is going to be a process that's going to take time, there's no need to dig through all of this in one sitting."
"I agree," Dixon nodded. "Syd's been through a lot."
"Did you eat today Agent Bristow?" Devlin asked as she nodded, clearly tasting the burnt toast on her tongue.
"Perhaps some time up on the roof would do you some good," Kendall suggested. "Jack, what do you think?"
"If Sydney wants that. "
"Right now I'd like to go back to my room. I'm still tired."
"I'll have medical services send you up something that might help you sleep," Kendall offered. "Do you need anything?"
My life back, but she knew better then to give the Director that response. "No. I think I just need some sleep."
As if on cue the orderly reappeared with the wheelchair. "If you need anything Agent Bristow, don't hesitate to ask," Kendall commanded as she thanked him. "Get some rest, and if you remember anything - *anything* Miss Bristow, regardless of how minute it may seem - you've got a pen and pad to keep you occupied."
The trail from the conference room to medical services was familiar to her on that late morning journey. Her bed was appealing as she walked in to her solitude. Shoes were quickly discarded and she was readjusting the pillows they had given her when the door opened. To her delight she looked over her shoulder and discovered Eric Weiss standing there expectantly.
"So what, no sugar?"
"You'll get your sugar," she grinned and stood to hug him. "Oh, it's so good to see you."
He pulled back and smiled, "I have to say the same thing," he agreed.
"Sit," she motioned as she sat on her mattress and he sat across from her.
"This place isn't too shabby," he teased as he glanced around. "So how are you doing?"
"Everyone keeps asking me that and I still don't know. Confused, mostly, and . . . Sad. So sad."
"So do you want to know?" he asked softly. To her surprise look he rolled his eyes, "c'mon Syd. You're a spy, and female, that means you have a need to know. Do you want me to tell you because I have this nagging doubt that you're having anything to do with my buddy Mike."
"I met her," she conceded.
"I have to say that insisting she work with you was a stupid move on Mike's part," he commented as she sighed. "Still Syd, for what it's worth I think Mike's heart's in the right place."
"Two years, I was gone for almost two years and he's not only given up, grieved and dated, he somehow found time to get *married*," she shook her head as the words shot out of her softly but with an unmistakable venom. "Married. For life . . . Maybe it's my ego, but I didn't think I was that easy to replace."
"Your not, but for what it's worth neither was Brandon," he commented as she looked up, the confusion easily read on the curves of her face. "Do you want the story or not?"
"I'm not going to like it."
"Since I doubt your going to ask Mike, I might be your only option. C'mon Syd, no one does a story like the Amazing Weiss."
"'The Amazing Weiss'?" she stifled her laughter and lifted her eyebrows.
Eric laughed and shrugged, "Marshall loves my magic tricks. I think it's gone to my head."
"Just a little," she laughed. After a second to regain her composure she silently waited for him to continue.
"At first Vaughn *hated* Becky. I mean he hates the idea of shrinks, the companies basically been making him go to one since he lost his Dad as a kid, you know, standard protocol to offer counseling to family members and his Mom made him go," he explained as she nodded. "If you ask either of them if they're the love of each others lives, they'll both say no. They admit it Syd, they love each other but it's not this earth-shattering, life-altering love that . . . " he trailed off and looked at her as she nodded. Her silence was all the understanding he needed. "Becky's a widow. Married out of high school, married for eight years - happily - before his car was high jacked and he was killed. That news was the straw that finally brought Mike around. She had to tell him that before he'd tell her anything. Initially I thought it was good, you know, they could have their own little Widows and Widowers of the CIA group or something," he shrugged with his flippant comment as she conceded a small smile. "Eventually their shared grief led to coffee and eventually dates. They'd been dating for about three months when they got married. The ceremony wasn't much more then a justice of the peace Syd. They're comfortable together. Shared grief, patriotism and love for the Mets is apparently a strong combination."
She wanted to be strong enough to say something like 'good' or that she was happy for them finding comfort in each other. Still she didn't have it in her. For her the two years didn't exist and this was the deepest burn he could have inflicted upon her soul. Surely their relationship had undergone a lot of weight during its bumpy course, but the lightweight gold wedding band on his finger might be more then it could bear.
"So what," Weiss continued as he read her forlorn expression. Since news of Sydney's reappearance his best friend had been wavering between caution, fear, euphoria and rage. Considering he was the one who'd been missing for two years he could only imagine the scope of Sydney's emotions. "Do you wish you could take it all back? Do it all over again and not be with him?" he inquired. The question was not an insult or a defamation, just simple curiosity from a friend. "Would that make it easier right now?" he ended on a gentler note.
"I've been thinking about it. A lot, actually," she conceded. Of all the new mysteries in her life, the mystery of Vaughn was the most painful. "I've decided I wouldn't change it. It hurts now . . . To even look at him," she whispered. "What we had . . . I would rather have that time, no matter how short it was, to look back on. That was as close to perfection as I've ever been. Even when I was a kid, and everything was great . . . What we had was everything I wanted. Those moments were worth all the flaws and pain that I have now. They mean everything to me."
Eric Weiss considered himself perhaps not an overly masculine man, but still a strong male. Still, the look on Sydney's face and the soft words she chose to utter had him near tears. Even when she looked back at him, he had a quiet sympathy around him that she'd never seen him carry before. "Did you ever tell him you loved him?"
"We never said it," she looked down at her hands. "I don't think we needed to, we both knew. I think. . If we said it too soon, it would cheapen what we had . . . It was there though, in every little word and action, without question or regard . . . "
"'The course of true love never did run smooth'. Shakespeare," he grinned in pride.
"What, your a poet now?" she teased and bit her tongue as he shrugged.
"I decided it looked better to the ladies of I could come up with deep things to say while impressing them with my yo-yo and magic tricks," he managed to explain with a blank face before she laughed. "I've got one you'll really like."
"What's that?"
"'Everything is okay at the end. If its not okay, then it's not the end'."
With a sigh she looked down at her fingernails before back at him, "I hope your right."
"Yeah," he leaned over to squeeze her hand. "I do too"
"Sydney. Sydney, wake up," a small hand jostled her as she opened her eyes. To her surprise, Marshall stood anxiously in front of her holding a breakfast tray. "I'm sorry to wake you. I mean, I'm not sorry, that's what Director Kendall ordered me to do, but I know your not sleeping. . See, I found out Will brought you breakfast and I was like, hey, I'm her friend, I can bring her lunch! . . " He trailed off uncertainly from his ramble. "Is that okay?"
A full smile split across her face before she had fully sat up. "This is great Marshall, thank you."
"You look amazing," he smiled sweetly. "We all thought. Well, you know what we all thought."
"Dixon told me you married Carrie," she teased as his cheeks glowed. "Congratulations."
"Thanks . . . See, we were going out for like two months before she finally kissed me. Don't get me wrong, I *wanted* to kiss her. . But I don't have much experience with the ladies, if you know what I mean," he whispered as she nodded. If she'd been conscience of her two-year absence she was certain she would have missed Marshall's sweet, good-natured ramblings.
"Carries very pretty, very smart too," she complimented. "So, do you have any kids?"
"Soon," he started visibly sweating. "In February. Our first. Before we knew you had . . . Reappeared, we were thinking about naming it after you. Now we're probably going to name if after my Mom.. If that's okay. ."
"Congratulations, that's wonderful," she sincerely spoke. When someone was around Marshall, with his consistent nearly childlike honesty it was hard to do anything but return the truth. "So it's a girl?"
"Yeah . . . Well, we think so."
"That's great," she complimented. Before he could response and the door opened with a visitor she thought she'd permanently freed herself of.
Michael Vaughn looked uncomfortable, one hand in his pocket and the other dangling from his side. All the while he looked at Marshal expectantly. "I'm going to go," Marshall squirmed in his own skin. "Syd, I'm so glad your back," he leaned in to hug her. "Oh, you've got to see this new gadget I just came up with, it's this -"
"Marshall," Vaughn impatiently cut him off.
"Yeah, I'm going. I'll come visit you later," he promised.
"Bring Carrie too, I'd love to see her," she called as the tiny man disappeared. Now left with just her lunch and Vaughn, the room seemed smaller then ever.
"Kendall wanted me to come see you," he clarified.
"What is it?"
He let out a tired sigh as he sat down on the mattress across from her. "They gave you an extremely thorough exam up in medical services . . . Some of the results. Kendall thought it would be best if I discussed them with you, privately."
Sydney would just prefer they never discuss anything privately ever again, but he was still her superior so there was no option out of this. "What did they find out? Is it something with my proteins?"
"Nothing like that Syd," he assured her. "When you first joined the CIA, we had you fill out a thorough medical history, remember?" he asked as she nodded. "We're prohibited by law to ask certain . . . questions about your medical past."
"What are you talking about?"
"In high school, or even college Syd . . . Were you ever pregnant?"
"No," she shook her head. "My first real boyfriend wasn't even until after I joined SD-6 and then I was on the pill," she answered before her blood went cold. "Why?"
"According to the lab, you've been pregnant. They're not conclusive on whether or not you've actually had a child, but you've been pregnant."
"No," she shook her head. "I would *remember* a baby, damn."
"Unless you never had a baby," he brazenly took her hand and cut off her rant. "Unless whoever took you did something to you so that you never had a baby."
Her eyes shut as she took back her hand and covered her face. In another time, another place, this man would have been by her side, his arm around her in an attempt to comfort her. Now he sat a respectable distance away, watching with the appropriate amount of sympathy mixed with a tinge of pain. When her eyes opened she met his and shook her head, "Vaughn, I swear, I didn't know -"
"I know Syd," he assured her.
"I just want my life back," she wiped away her tears.
"I know," he softly spoke with a nod of his head.
As he sat across from her, unwilling to make a move to comfort her, she slowly felt what little composure she had fall to the waste side. "Why?" she asked as his confused eyes met hers.
"Excuse me?"
"I don't even know where to begin . . . What made you think it was even remotely appropriate to send me to your *wife* as my therapist?"
"Becky's a trained professional Syd, one of the best -"
"She's your *wife*!" she snapped. "I don't even want to *think* about that, never mind that I'll be recovering the last two years with that woman! I don't want to think about her but now, because of *you* I have to see her! My God, I've been home less then seventy two hours and thanks to you I end up in the *her* office!"
"I'm just looking out for you -"
"No, your not!" she snapped. "You gave up looking out for me a long time ago. This is *hell* for me Vaughn and your just making it worse!"
"Don't pull this self-righteous crap with me Sydney. My life just couldn't stop because you were no longer around."
"No longer around! Jesus Vaughn you make it sound like I was on some extended vacation! I don't know what I've been or who I've been with or what I've done for two damn years! I always had you, through the hell that I had to go through I always had you, and now . . . Now you can't even *look* at me. You were *everything*, you became the reason I got up most mornings . . . You forgave me for my stupidity and I forgave you for looking into my Mother -"
"You forgave me? For what Sydney, for my own self-assurance? For insuring that someone you love wasn't once again betraying you? Then you'll have to forgive me again Syd, because that's what I'm doing here, looking out for you."
"You don't need to feel obligated to look out for me. I have my Father, Dixon. . I can handle my own life."
"Obligated?" his eyes widened as he paced. "I don't feel *obligated* to look out for you, not for the reasons you think. I *want* to look out for you Sydney. I was there in Hong Kong, wasn't I?"
"The CIA forced you to come retrieve me."
"The CIA could have just as easily sent Dixon or even Will. I *demanded* I be the one called at *any* lead. I *had* to move on Syd, but I meant what I told you earlier. None of this changes how I feel about you, or that I'm here to support you"
"Thank you," she said as she looked at her hands. Both of them could avoid one another's eyes if that's what he wanted. "For taking care of my Dad and Will . . . Neither one of them has mentioned it, but I'm sure you must have . . ."
"Most of Will's recovery has been his own work," Vaughn explained. "I didn't think he would make it . . . His progress has been amazing."
"I'm so proud of him," she smiled. "Weiss stopped by earlier."
"Oh, he did?" he asked, trying to feign his casual interest.
"He wanted to see if I needed anything," she explained. "Then Marshall brought me my lunch and was telling me a bit about things with Carrie."
"She's pregnant."
"I know," she smiled and looked down at her food. "Marshall's going to be a Father . . ." she shook her head as she attempted to eat the tasteless food. In her mind she toyed with the idea of asking how his normal life was going but decided to let sleeping dogs lie, at least temporarily. "You look tired," she noted, her eyes still glued to her lunch.
"I am," he agreed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. When he opened his eyes he was surprised to see Sydney silently offering him her small packet of crackers. They made crumbs on his expensive suit, were hard and tasted stale, but the taste of a possible peace between the two of them was what lingered with him long after the crackers were gone.
"I hate chicken soup," she sighed as she ate the lukewarm liquid from the Styrofoam cup.
"At least the CIA's soup is better then the FBI's," he joked as a hint of a smile briefly fluttered across the corner of her lips. "You must be getting bored in here," he said as he looked around the barren room. "Not even a television."
"I'm a bit too early for the Kings though, aren't I?"
"Yeah," he slight smile passed over his lips. "Just a bit. I could have them bring you some books. That way you'd have something to read."
"Maybe a newspaper?"
"Sure, that too," he complied. "You must need some more clothes too."
"A shower."
"I'll talk to Dr. Nichols about the shower and your Father about bringing you some clothes," he explained.
"Do you have any idea how long they're going to keep me?"
"Hopefully not long. There's no need for Kendall to drag this out longer then necessary."
"What happened to my apartment?"
"Will and I sold it. With all the . . . damage and news coverage, we had to sell it as a fixer-upper. The profits went towards the restaurant. Will bought a place closer to the CIA and the restaurant."
"Our belongings?"
"Will and Francie's family split up what was left of hers. Since we weren't sure what happened to you, yours went into storage. I assume that's where they are now."
Briefly she thought back to the drawer and wondered how, at all, he'd explained that to her Father. "How long did you wait before you. Sold it?"
"A year. It got to the point where your Father and I just couldn't afford the rent, and Will couldn't afford it on his own either."
"I'm going to stay with my Dad for awhile, once they let me go. "
"That should be good for both of you."
"I hope I can help him," she softly mused as he checked his watch.
"I'm sorry Syd, I have to -"
"Go back to work," she finished for him. "Thank you for telling me."
"I'll see what I can do about getting you something to do along with a shower and fresh clothes."
"Thanks," she nodded. Finally he met her eyes, and for half a moment she felt real again, before he stood and walked out the door.
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A/N: Admittedly, I am a bit uneasy about the whole pregnancy thing, *but* I wanted some sort of joint angst for the two of them to share. Yes, they're both in pain over her disappearance, but with the pregnancy thing I have them both at the beginning stages of grieving for the same thing. Plus I was going to wait until I got a beta to post it, but I decided we all needed at least a semi-sweet S/V scene. Still I'll probably wait until I have a beta to post chapter 6 (not written yet, that could be a problem too :)). All my other stories are being ignored, so I think I need to pay them *some* attention too (my original characters get P.O.'ed when Alias characters control the muse). Still, thanks for the support & ideas and reviews - please please *PLEASE* keep them coming. You feed my soul :)
Author: UConnFan (Michele)
E-Mail: LoveUConnBasketball@yahoo.com
Story Summary: Post "The Telling"; be warned, it picks up immediately where ep leaves off.
DISCLAIMER: Don't own. Never will. Dream job is a writer on this show, but I'm only seventeen so I'll stick to fanfiction.
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Sydney thanked the orderly and insisted on walking into the room on her own. To no great surprise her Father, Vaughn, Dixon and Kendall were there, but she was surprised to see Director Devlin sitting next to her Father. Kendall welcomed her and motioned for her to take her customary seat next to Vaughn.
"Agent Bristow, how are you feeling?" Director Devlin asked.
"Honestly, I'm still trying to understand how all of this could have happened," she sincerely answered. She decided it would be wise to not mention the emotional upheaval she was undergoing. That much should have been obvious to even the most untrained eye. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but is all of this necessary? Couldn't I just write down what I remember? It's what I did when I first became a double."
"Yes, it is, but your memories been compromised Agent Bristow. Don't get me wrong, I trust you but neither I nor you should trust any memory you have from the past two years," Kendall explained. "We're hopeful that you can be out of here in a few days. If you can't make arrangements to stay somewhere the CIA will arrange a safe house for you until you get on your feet."
Sydney silently thanked him and nodded her consent.
"I think we're all familiar with the last few hours you remember, but why don't you go over it with us," the former FBI director suggested.
"Do you really think that's necessary?" Jack protested.
Ben Devlin spoke up, "Jack, I think this could be helpful. This might help Sydney in the long run. Take your time Agent Bristow," he advised.
Sydney nodded, pushed her hair behind her ears and folded her hands. "I had made plans to go away with a friend for the weekend," she glossed over the details as Vaughn looked at his own hands, the pain appearing when she referred to him as a friend. "Agent Vaughn dropped me off at my home and when I went in Francie was there. She was reading a magazine and said she didn't know where Will was. We were just sitting in the living room, I was eating ice cream and she was reading her magazine. I checked my voicemail. . One was from Mary Beth, from Director Kendall's office, and other one was Will. . He had found evidence in my bathroom that led him to believe that Francie was the double . . . I offered the woman I believed to be Francie some of my ice cream and when she accepted it, I knew she was a double."
"Would you care to elaborate Agent Bristow?" Devlin asked.
"I had coffee ice cream. One thing my best friend couldn't stand was coffee ice cream. Real Francie would never have had some of it, but the double forgot that little detail."
"What happened after you discovered the truth about Miss Doran?" Kendall demanded.
Sydney sighed and struggled to retell that horrible night. "I went to my room to get my gun from under my bed. I told Francie I was going to go get changed. . Or something, I don't remember," she brushed hair out of her face. "I was knelt down getting the gun when Allyson appeared and told me that she just remembered that Francie doesn't like coffee ice cream. We ended up fighting. . We were in every room of the apartment. . I tossed a kitchen drawer at her and we pushed each other into cabinets and walls and mirrors . . .Somehow we ended up back in the bedroom. By then both of us were in pretty bad shape. . She tossed me into a mirror but lost the gun in the process. When she went to get it I cut her with a large shard of glass. . I managed to get the gun," she struggled at the tears that were there, that would probably always be there, when she retold this story. "I shot her. I shot her three times. . . The third time she fell to the ground."
"Then what happened?" Devlin persisted.
"I don't remember. I fell back. . I think I probably passed out . . . I'd seen Will in the bathtub when we were fighting in the bathroom and I thought he was dead . . . My last thoughts . . . All I could think that Will and Francie were dead, and that I was in a lot of pain. . I remember wishing that Vaughn would get there soon . . . Then I blacked out," she concluded. Unintentionally she'd slipped Vaughn's name in, too wrapped up in her recount to gloss over his presence. "I woke up in this alley in Hong Kong, I was confused. I found a phone booth and called the CIA. Initially I thought I'd been kidnapped, that someone had dropped me off in that alley . . . Then Vaughn arrived and . . . And I found out everything."
Kendall nodded and picked up at thick file. "Agent Vaughn's account goes that he arrived and you were gone. The forensic team found enough blood that we believed that you had severe blood loss but we were uncertain of whether or not you were dead. We had agents in government organizations all over the world looking for you Agent Bristow, for you, your Mother and Arvin Sloane. Then suddenly you turn up, out of the blue, almost two years later in Hong Kong."
"So you think my reappearance is some move in my Mother and Sloane's master plan?"
"I believe that Arvin Sloane had no qualms about using you as a pawn," Kendall reminded her. "Which is why, when you do leave our custody, we'd like to give you constant protection. Your Mother or Sloane could contact you at any time."
"You don't believe I willingly left, do you?" Sydney's words were clipped as Kendall shot her a smirk.
"Give me a little more credit Agent Bristow, no one in this room believes that. If anyone of any credence believed it, we wouldn't be giving you such a lavish room in medical services."
The last word that came to Sydney's mind was lavish when she imagined the room in medical services, but compared to the cell her Mother had been housed it, it was lush. "Where is Sark?"
"He was transferred to Camp Harris over a year ago. Once you disappeared he quickly stonewalled as to your possible location," her Father explained
"It was all an elaborate set up," she realized.
Dixon spoke, "perhaps. We have no way of proving whether or not Sark knew or if Sloane was involved at all."
"I think it's irresponsible to believe that Arvin Sloane was *not* somehow involved, directly or indirectly, in Sydney's disappearance," Vaughn added. Sydney cast him a brief sideways glance - it was the first time he'd spoken since she'd arrived in the room. "She wouldn't have just walked out of that apartment of her own free will, not with the condition both Will and Francie were in."
"Vaughn's right," Jack confirmed. "We might not have any hard evidence to tie him to her disappearance but we don't have any evidence that proves him innocent either. I know Arvin and he has ways of making evidence disappear."
His daughter nodded and considered the possibility that Sloane had ways of making memories vanish as quickly as evidence. "Doctor Vaughn's recommendation is we start regression therapy sessions once you're out of our custody and beginning to assimilate back into your life. Now Agent Bristow we're not entirely sure you'll be able to recover all your memories, but we'd like you to do your best. The process is going to take time and it's going to be a standing order that you see Dr. Vaughn at least weekly until we've pieced together most of your missing memories."
Despite her own distaste for the assignment she conceded. Two years hadn't deteriorated Kendall's annoying but effective attitude. "Agent Bristow, not to interfere with your private life, but have you considered where you'd be staying?"
"She could stay with me," Jack offered.
Sydney immediately began to protest, "Dad, I couldn't."
"Your my daughter Sydney, it's no trouble," he assured her.
"Now that that's settled," Kendall cut in. "We'd like to keep you for a few more days. We still have some test results we're waiting for."
"Including my lie detector test?" she asked testily.
"What?" Vaughn's eyes widened as he looked at Kendall.
At nearly the same time Jack had a similar reaction, "you gave her a *lie* detector test?"
"Gentleman we had to be certain she wasn't lying to us. No, Agent Bristow, you'll be happy to know you passed with flying colors."
"Were you expecting anything different?" Jack shot out.
Vaughn continued, "Sydney isn't a criminal. We shouldn't be treating her as if she's done something wrong. She's a victim in all of this."
"Thank you Agent Vaughn, I think I know how to do my job," Kendall snapped. "Would you like to return to your position or do you care to stay on in this investigation?" he asked pointedly. With no other option the younger man silenced and sat back in his seat.
Devlin spoke, "Agent Bristow we'd like to make you two offers. Given your history, after you've completed your regression therapy we'd like to give you the option of returning to work here or joining the Witness Protection Program. Of course you cannot return to work for us and not join the program, but we'd like you to realize that both options are available to you. If you do choose to join the program we'd have to request you stay here until your regression therapy is over instead of entering back into society."
"I don't want to go into the program," she wearily shook her head. Even though sitting next to Vaughn, knowing he belonged to Dr. Rebecca Cox Vaughn and was apparently in love with the doctor hurt Sydney; she couldn't imagine leaving her family and friends again. Especially not when her Father needed her. All Jack Bristow had was Sydney, and she had realized that little unmentioned tidbit during the late night travels of her mind. She'd unwillingly left him for two years, and she wasn't going to leave him again.
"Well then Agent Bristow, you're welcome to return to work for us. Either as an analyst or an agent, I'd say you're qualified with whatever you'd prefer," Devlin assured her.
Jack popped in with another suggestion, "I'm sure linguistics could use your expertise as well, should you choose that path."
"Thank you," she said as she stifled a yawn. "I'm sorry, I didn't sleep well."
"Why don't we do this later?" Jack suggested. "Sydney's not going to leave. I think everyone here can agree that this is going to be a process that's going to take time, there's no need to dig through all of this in one sitting."
"I agree," Dixon nodded. "Syd's been through a lot."
"Did you eat today Agent Bristow?" Devlin asked as she nodded, clearly tasting the burnt toast on her tongue.
"Perhaps some time up on the roof would do you some good," Kendall suggested. "Jack, what do you think?"
"If Sydney wants that. "
"Right now I'd like to go back to my room. I'm still tired."
"I'll have medical services send you up something that might help you sleep," Kendall offered. "Do you need anything?"
My life back, but she knew better then to give the Director that response. "No. I think I just need some sleep."
As if on cue the orderly reappeared with the wheelchair. "If you need anything Agent Bristow, don't hesitate to ask," Kendall commanded as she thanked him. "Get some rest, and if you remember anything - *anything* Miss Bristow, regardless of how minute it may seem - you've got a pen and pad to keep you occupied."
The trail from the conference room to medical services was familiar to her on that late morning journey. Her bed was appealing as she walked in to her solitude. Shoes were quickly discarded and she was readjusting the pillows they had given her when the door opened. To her delight she looked over her shoulder and discovered Eric Weiss standing there expectantly.
"So what, no sugar?"
"You'll get your sugar," she grinned and stood to hug him. "Oh, it's so good to see you."
He pulled back and smiled, "I have to say the same thing," he agreed.
"Sit," she motioned as she sat on her mattress and he sat across from her.
"This place isn't too shabby," he teased as he glanced around. "So how are you doing?"
"Everyone keeps asking me that and I still don't know. Confused, mostly, and . . . Sad. So sad."
"So do you want to know?" he asked softly. To her surprise look he rolled his eyes, "c'mon Syd. You're a spy, and female, that means you have a need to know. Do you want me to tell you because I have this nagging doubt that you're having anything to do with my buddy Mike."
"I met her," she conceded.
"I have to say that insisting she work with you was a stupid move on Mike's part," he commented as she sighed. "Still Syd, for what it's worth I think Mike's heart's in the right place."
"Two years, I was gone for almost two years and he's not only given up, grieved and dated, he somehow found time to get *married*," she shook her head as the words shot out of her softly but with an unmistakable venom. "Married. For life . . . Maybe it's my ego, but I didn't think I was that easy to replace."
"Your not, but for what it's worth neither was Brandon," he commented as she looked up, the confusion easily read on the curves of her face. "Do you want the story or not?"
"I'm not going to like it."
"Since I doubt your going to ask Mike, I might be your only option. C'mon Syd, no one does a story like the Amazing Weiss."
"'The Amazing Weiss'?" she stifled her laughter and lifted her eyebrows.
Eric laughed and shrugged, "Marshall loves my magic tricks. I think it's gone to my head."
"Just a little," she laughed. After a second to regain her composure she silently waited for him to continue.
"At first Vaughn *hated* Becky. I mean he hates the idea of shrinks, the companies basically been making him go to one since he lost his Dad as a kid, you know, standard protocol to offer counseling to family members and his Mom made him go," he explained as she nodded. "If you ask either of them if they're the love of each others lives, they'll both say no. They admit it Syd, they love each other but it's not this earth-shattering, life-altering love that . . . " he trailed off and looked at her as she nodded. Her silence was all the understanding he needed. "Becky's a widow. Married out of high school, married for eight years - happily - before his car was high jacked and he was killed. That news was the straw that finally brought Mike around. She had to tell him that before he'd tell her anything. Initially I thought it was good, you know, they could have their own little Widows and Widowers of the CIA group or something," he shrugged with his flippant comment as she conceded a small smile. "Eventually their shared grief led to coffee and eventually dates. They'd been dating for about three months when they got married. The ceremony wasn't much more then a justice of the peace Syd. They're comfortable together. Shared grief, patriotism and love for the Mets is apparently a strong combination."
She wanted to be strong enough to say something like 'good' or that she was happy for them finding comfort in each other. Still she didn't have it in her. For her the two years didn't exist and this was the deepest burn he could have inflicted upon her soul. Surely their relationship had undergone a lot of weight during its bumpy course, but the lightweight gold wedding band on his finger might be more then it could bear.
"So what," Weiss continued as he read her forlorn expression. Since news of Sydney's reappearance his best friend had been wavering between caution, fear, euphoria and rage. Considering he was the one who'd been missing for two years he could only imagine the scope of Sydney's emotions. "Do you wish you could take it all back? Do it all over again and not be with him?" he inquired. The question was not an insult or a defamation, just simple curiosity from a friend. "Would that make it easier right now?" he ended on a gentler note.
"I've been thinking about it. A lot, actually," she conceded. Of all the new mysteries in her life, the mystery of Vaughn was the most painful. "I've decided I wouldn't change it. It hurts now . . . To even look at him," she whispered. "What we had . . . I would rather have that time, no matter how short it was, to look back on. That was as close to perfection as I've ever been. Even when I was a kid, and everything was great . . . What we had was everything I wanted. Those moments were worth all the flaws and pain that I have now. They mean everything to me."
Eric Weiss considered himself perhaps not an overly masculine man, but still a strong male. Still, the look on Sydney's face and the soft words she chose to utter had him near tears. Even when she looked back at him, he had a quiet sympathy around him that she'd never seen him carry before. "Did you ever tell him you loved him?"
"We never said it," she looked down at her hands. "I don't think we needed to, we both knew. I think. . If we said it too soon, it would cheapen what we had . . . It was there though, in every little word and action, without question or regard . . . "
"'The course of true love never did run smooth'. Shakespeare," he grinned in pride.
"What, your a poet now?" she teased and bit her tongue as he shrugged.
"I decided it looked better to the ladies of I could come up with deep things to say while impressing them with my yo-yo and magic tricks," he managed to explain with a blank face before she laughed. "I've got one you'll really like."
"What's that?"
"'Everything is okay at the end. If its not okay, then it's not the end'."
With a sigh she looked down at her fingernails before back at him, "I hope your right."
"Yeah," he leaned over to squeeze her hand. "I do too"
"Sydney. Sydney, wake up," a small hand jostled her as she opened her eyes. To her surprise, Marshall stood anxiously in front of her holding a breakfast tray. "I'm sorry to wake you. I mean, I'm not sorry, that's what Director Kendall ordered me to do, but I know your not sleeping. . See, I found out Will brought you breakfast and I was like, hey, I'm her friend, I can bring her lunch! . . " He trailed off uncertainly from his ramble. "Is that okay?"
A full smile split across her face before she had fully sat up. "This is great Marshall, thank you."
"You look amazing," he smiled sweetly. "We all thought. Well, you know what we all thought."
"Dixon told me you married Carrie," she teased as his cheeks glowed. "Congratulations."
"Thanks . . . See, we were going out for like two months before she finally kissed me. Don't get me wrong, I *wanted* to kiss her. . But I don't have much experience with the ladies, if you know what I mean," he whispered as she nodded. If she'd been conscience of her two-year absence she was certain she would have missed Marshall's sweet, good-natured ramblings.
"Carries very pretty, very smart too," she complimented. "So, do you have any kids?"
"Soon," he started visibly sweating. "In February. Our first. Before we knew you had . . . Reappeared, we were thinking about naming it after you. Now we're probably going to name if after my Mom.. If that's okay. ."
"Congratulations, that's wonderful," she sincerely spoke. When someone was around Marshall, with his consistent nearly childlike honesty it was hard to do anything but return the truth. "So it's a girl?"
"Yeah . . . Well, we think so."
"That's great," she complimented. Before he could response and the door opened with a visitor she thought she'd permanently freed herself of.
Michael Vaughn looked uncomfortable, one hand in his pocket and the other dangling from his side. All the while he looked at Marshal expectantly. "I'm going to go," Marshall squirmed in his own skin. "Syd, I'm so glad your back," he leaned in to hug her. "Oh, you've got to see this new gadget I just came up with, it's this -"
"Marshall," Vaughn impatiently cut him off.
"Yeah, I'm going. I'll come visit you later," he promised.
"Bring Carrie too, I'd love to see her," she called as the tiny man disappeared. Now left with just her lunch and Vaughn, the room seemed smaller then ever.
"Kendall wanted me to come see you," he clarified.
"What is it?"
He let out a tired sigh as he sat down on the mattress across from her. "They gave you an extremely thorough exam up in medical services . . . Some of the results. Kendall thought it would be best if I discussed them with you, privately."
Sydney would just prefer they never discuss anything privately ever again, but he was still her superior so there was no option out of this. "What did they find out? Is it something with my proteins?"
"Nothing like that Syd," he assured her. "When you first joined the CIA, we had you fill out a thorough medical history, remember?" he asked as she nodded. "We're prohibited by law to ask certain . . . questions about your medical past."
"What are you talking about?"
"In high school, or even college Syd . . . Were you ever pregnant?"
"No," she shook her head. "My first real boyfriend wasn't even until after I joined SD-6 and then I was on the pill," she answered before her blood went cold. "Why?"
"According to the lab, you've been pregnant. They're not conclusive on whether or not you've actually had a child, but you've been pregnant."
"No," she shook her head. "I would *remember* a baby, damn."
"Unless you never had a baby," he brazenly took her hand and cut off her rant. "Unless whoever took you did something to you so that you never had a baby."
Her eyes shut as she took back her hand and covered her face. In another time, another place, this man would have been by her side, his arm around her in an attempt to comfort her. Now he sat a respectable distance away, watching with the appropriate amount of sympathy mixed with a tinge of pain. When her eyes opened she met his and shook her head, "Vaughn, I swear, I didn't know -"
"I know Syd," he assured her.
"I just want my life back," she wiped away her tears.
"I know," he softly spoke with a nod of his head.
As he sat across from her, unwilling to make a move to comfort her, she slowly felt what little composure she had fall to the waste side. "Why?" she asked as his confused eyes met hers.
"Excuse me?"
"I don't even know where to begin . . . What made you think it was even remotely appropriate to send me to your *wife* as my therapist?"
"Becky's a trained professional Syd, one of the best -"
"She's your *wife*!" she snapped. "I don't even want to *think* about that, never mind that I'll be recovering the last two years with that woman! I don't want to think about her but now, because of *you* I have to see her! My God, I've been home less then seventy two hours and thanks to you I end up in the *her* office!"
"I'm just looking out for you -"
"No, your not!" she snapped. "You gave up looking out for me a long time ago. This is *hell* for me Vaughn and your just making it worse!"
"Don't pull this self-righteous crap with me Sydney. My life just couldn't stop because you were no longer around."
"No longer around! Jesus Vaughn you make it sound like I was on some extended vacation! I don't know what I've been or who I've been with or what I've done for two damn years! I always had you, through the hell that I had to go through I always had you, and now . . . Now you can't even *look* at me. You were *everything*, you became the reason I got up most mornings . . . You forgave me for my stupidity and I forgave you for looking into my Mother -"
"You forgave me? For what Sydney, for my own self-assurance? For insuring that someone you love wasn't once again betraying you? Then you'll have to forgive me again Syd, because that's what I'm doing here, looking out for you."
"You don't need to feel obligated to look out for me. I have my Father, Dixon. . I can handle my own life."
"Obligated?" his eyes widened as he paced. "I don't feel *obligated* to look out for you, not for the reasons you think. I *want* to look out for you Sydney. I was there in Hong Kong, wasn't I?"
"The CIA forced you to come retrieve me."
"The CIA could have just as easily sent Dixon or even Will. I *demanded* I be the one called at *any* lead. I *had* to move on Syd, but I meant what I told you earlier. None of this changes how I feel about you, or that I'm here to support you"
"Thank you," she said as she looked at her hands. Both of them could avoid one another's eyes if that's what he wanted. "For taking care of my Dad and Will . . . Neither one of them has mentioned it, but I'm sure you must have . . ."
"Most of Will's recovery has been his own work," Vaughn explained. "I didn't think he would make it . . . His progress has been amazing."
"I'm so proud of him," she smiled. "Weiss stopped by earlier."
"Oh, he did?" he asked, trying to feign his casual interest.
"He wanted to see if I needed anything," she explained. "Then Marshall brought me my lunch and was telling me a bit about things with Carrie."
"She's pregnant."
"I know," she smiled and looked down at her food. "Marshall's going to be a Father . . ." she shook her head as she attempted to eat the tasteless food. In her mind she toyed with the idea of asking how his normal life was going but decided to let sleeping dogs lie, at least temporarily. "You look tired," she noted, her eyes still glued to her lunch.
"I am," he agreed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. When he opened his eyes he was surprised to see Sydney silently offering him her small packet of crackers. They made crumbs on his expensive suit, were hard and tasted stale, but the taste of a possible peace between the two of them was what lingered with him long after the crackers were gone.
"I hate chicken soup," she sighed as she ate the lukewarm liquid from the Styrofoam cup.
"At least the CIA's soup is better then the FBI's," he joked as a hint of a smile briefly fluttered across the corner of her lips. "You must be getting bored in here," he said as he looked around the barren room. "Not even a television."
"I'm a bit too early for the Kings though, aren't I?"
"Yeah," he slight smile passed over his lips. "Just a bit. I could have them bring you some books. That way you'd have something to read."
"Maybe a newspaper?"
"Sure, that too," he complied. "You must need some more clothes too."
"A shower."
"I'll talk to Dr. Nichols about the shower and your Father about bringing you some clothes," he explained.
"Do you have any idea how long they're going to keep me?"
"Hopefully not long. There's no need for Kendall to drag this out longer then necessary."
"What happened to my apartment?"
"Will and I sold it. With all the . . . damage and news coverage, we had to sell it as a fixer-upper. The profits went towards the restaurant. Will bought a place closer to the CIA and the restaurant."
"Our belongings?"
"Will and Francie's family split up what was left of hers. Since we weren't sure what happened to you, yours went into storage. I assume that's where they are now."
Briefly she thought back to the drawer and wondered how, at all, he'd explained that to her Father. "How long did you wait before you. Sold it?"
"A year. It got to the point where your Father and I just couldn't afford the rent, and Will couldn't afford it on his own either."
"I'm going to stay with my Dad for awhile, once they let me go. "
"That should be good for both of you."
"I hope I can help him," she softly mused as he checked his watch.
"I'm sorry Syd, I have to -"
"Go back to work," she finished for him. "Thank you for telling me."
"I'll see what I can do about getting you something to do along with a shower and fresh clothes."
"Thanks," she nodded. Finally he met her eyes, and for half a moment she felt real again, before he stood and walked out the door.
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A/N: Admittedly, I am a bit uneasy about the whole pregnancy thing, *but* I wanted some sort of joint angst for the two of them to share. Yes, they're both in pain over her disappearance, but with the pregnancy thing I have them both at the beginning stages of grieving for the same thing. Plus I was going to wait until I got a beta to post it, but I decided we all needed at least a semi-sweet S/V scene. Still I'll probably wait until I have a beta to post chapter 6 (not written yet, that could be a problem too :)). All my other stories are being ignored, so I think I need to pay them *some* attention too (my original characters get P.O.'ed when Alias characters control the muse). Still, thanks for the support & ideas and reviews - please please *PLEASE* keep them coming. You feed my soul :)
