Memory
Chapter One
THEN
She didn't go easily.

They stopped her taxi back to the airport [the driver was one of theirs] and pulled her out [it was dark, she couldn't see].

Four of them set out on the mission to capture her.

One returned.

She took down three of them [shot one, knocked out the other, broke the leg of the last] before the fourth took her by surprise [one of them had shot her in the leg] from behind.

She tried to fight, but she was tired and she'd lost so much blood.

The one who returned from the mission was a man named Alistair Sark.

He knocked her out [slammed the butt of his rifle into the base of her skull] and dragged her back into the taxi.
When she woke up, she was sitting in a chair, with three people standing in front of her.

Her mother.

Her boss.

Her "colleague".

All of her favourite people in all the world gathered in one spot. This day has really taken a sudden turn into the "worst days of life" category....

"Hello, Sydney. I do apologise for the restraints, but until we know that you're going to cooperate, I'm afraid they're rather necessary."

"Hello, Sloane. Sark, I see you're still working for this worm?"

"He's offering me some rather nice incentives for my continued employment," Sark replied offhandedly.

"Little weasel," she muttered under her breath. Or perhaps not quite so under her breath as she would have liked.

"Sydney, that's no way to talk to our friends," her mother admonished.

"Mom, it's so nice to see you as well. I see you've joined their merry little gang?" she replies sardonically.

"So what exactly can I do for all you lovely people? Can I just add how nice it is to see all of you in one place? I feel like they must have been having a sale on villains somewhere, and I've gotten three of the price of one..."

"Sark." Sloane gestures Sark forward, and she can see the syringe in his hand, and she knows what's coming, but that doesn't make not flinching as the needle slid into the vein in her arm any easier.

"Goodnight, Sydney..." Sark whispered in her ear as everything went black.

* * *

"She's responding well to the treatment, Mr. Sloane. Everything seems to be going according to schedule."

"I thought you were having some trouble erasing her memories of her CIA handler?"

She had screamed his name over and over again, the desperate pleas of a woman whose life was rapidly being erased.

"Well, we were, but we think we've overcome those difficulties. Michael Vaughn no longer means anything to Miss Bristow."

"Excellent. Has she begun to recognise Sark as Mr. Hecht?"

"We're about to begin that stage of the treatment this afternoon."

"I'm very pleased with your work, Doctor. My colleagues were right when they recommended you for this operation - and
that productivity bonus in the contract is yours."

"Thankyou, Mr. Sloane!"

The scientist scurries off, his brain filled with pleasant thoughts of large bonuses. The Hippocratic Oath [do no harm] long ago gave way in his mind to sheer greed, and all bows before his greed now, even the morals and ethics he was taught.

He's a bug. A useful one, for now, Sloane thinks, but ultimately a bug.

And all bugs get stepped upon on the end.

* * *

"Sydney," Sark croons softly, "Wake up, sweetheart. It's Danny - we've all been so worried about you..."

"Danny?" she croaks hoarsely, "But Danny's dead...."

"No, I'm not...that must just be the concussion speaking. I'm right here, darling."

"What-What happened?"

"You fell down the stairs, dear. You broke your leg [actually, you have bullet wounds in it, he thinks] and knocked your head about a bit [on a rifle butt]....you've been in a coma for nearly a week - you scared me to death!"

"Where-Where am I?" She looks around in confusion..."Danny, I don't remember any of this! I-I don't remember anything."

"Then I'll just have to help you remember it all, won't it?" He smiles comfortingly and sits down beside her bed. "Why don't you just start by telling me everything that you do remember?"

"My name is Sydney Bristow-"

"Sydney Hecht, now. Remember? We got married nearly a year ago, and we have a little baby daughter, Laura."

He pulls out his wallet [black leather, of course] and shows her a picture of a small baby wrapped in a fuzzy pink blanket, in the arms of a smiling man she doesn't quite recognise.

"Who's that holding her, Danny?"

"You don't remember Arvin?"

"No...no, I don't think so."

"Your parents died when you were very young, sweetheart, in a car crash. Arvin was your father's best friend, and he and his wife Emily raised you from the time you were about six years old, like you were their own daughter. Arvin is Laura's godfather, and Emily is her godmother."

"Oh....how old is Laura?"

"Nearly three months old now - she was a honeymoon baby, we think." He grins slightly at this.

"What-what do we do? I mean, our jobs?"

"I'm a cardiac pediatrician, and you're the head of Credit Dauphine's branch in London - you're a banker."

"Oh....is that where we are now? London?"

"Yes - we moved here just after we married - my father was quite sick at the time, and I wanted to be closer to him, and Arvin was kind enough to transfer you over here."

"I work for Arvin? At Credit Dauphine?"

"Yes, except you call him Mr. Sloane when you're at work."

"Well...that seems to make sense. But there's so much I don't remember! I don't remember our wedding, or my childhood, or giving birth to Laura...all I can remember is you, Danny." She starts getting agitated at this, her eyes filling up with tears in frustration.

He wraps an arm around her [playing his part, like a good lapdog] and comforts her. "There, there, sweetheart....the doctors say you should remember everything eventually - it's short term amnesia, and it's expected to fade as you come back into more familiar surroundings."

He holds her tightly, not letting his conflicting emotions play across his face [that's right, sweetheart, I'm your one link back to a life you don't remember], every inch the adoring, overprotective husband.

She tormented me for so long...teased me endlessly....haunted my dreams for so long....now she's mine. And she'll never know any better. We'll finally have our revenge for the treachery of the Bristows. They betrayed us [us - Sloane and I? Irina and I? All three of us?] and they will pay.

Sydney Bristow is broken, shattered in pieces. And I get to rebuild her, one loving memory at a time.

Again, please read and review! Thanks!

:)

Em