A/N – And here you go. . .Part 3. . . .ENJOY. Leave a note on your way out will you? :)

Before she had time to respond, her mother turned and raced down the hallway. She watched her mother for a few seconds before she turned, and started down the stairs. She had no idea if she was going the right way. She didn't even know if Sloane was still here. She moved down the stairs silently, but quickly. She didn't have a watch, but she knew that she didn't have much time before she would have to abandon the search and start for the woods.

But before she was going to do that, she was going to make sure that she made every effort to find Sloane. Or at least some clue as to where he was. She was too close now.

Back on the basement level, she made her way to the room that held her last night. It was empty now. She stopped and listened for any sound. It was deathly silent.

She could feel her frustration rising. The size of the house was enormous. If Sloane had secret rooms or passages, she wouldn't have enough time to find them. She ran back out into the hallway, taking off in the opposite direction from which she came. She quickly glanced into each room as she passed. Every room was empty.

When she got to the end of the hallway, she stopped and uttered a curse. Loudly.

[Now what? I've got probably 5 minutes before I have to head for the woods. I can't just run through this house, hoping I'll stumble onto him.]

She let out a grunt of frustration before taking off down the hallway again, heading for the stairs. She was almost at the stairs when she heard, faintly, her father calling her name.

She stopped dead in her tracks and whirled around, trying to figure out where the sound came from. "Dad?"

Silence.

"Dad!"

She forced herself to concentrate. Her father's voice sounded as if it had come from in front of her. It was faint, as if it were coming from behind something. And it sounded as if it were near the stairway. She ran at it and looked around.

Nothing.

"Sydney, don't—"

She turned and looked again. No sign of her father but his voice was unmistakable. It was coming from the general direction of the stairway. She looked again. And again, she saw nothing. The stairs ended on the basement level. There was a small space behind the stairway, that contained some boxes but it was much too small a space for a person to fit under.

Quickly, she tucked her gun into her waistband and began to feel along the wall surrounding the stairway. It took several minutes before she found it. It was a panel, hidden into the wall trim along the floor. She gently tapped the panel and it sprung open, revealing a simple switch.

Taking her gun out of her waistband, she cocked it and aimed it in the general direction of the stairway. Then, bending down, she flicked the switch.

At first there was nothing. And then a soft whirring sound began and to her amazement, the floor off the side of the stairs began to slide open, revealing a small stairwell that led downwards. To what, she didn't know. But she knew her father was down there somewhere. And if her father was, there was a good chance Sloane was as well.

She stood for a full minute, watching the steps, and waiting to see if anyone emerged. Her gun was at the ready, and she was poised in an attack position, but nothing happened. After the minute passed, she drew in a deep breath and then cautiously edged to the top of the opening.

She peered down the steps and could see very little. She sighed. Of all the times she wished that she had some CIA-issued equipment, it was now. What she wouldn't do for a pocket flashlight.

All her training and experience was telling her that it was a bad idea to go into an unknown place blind, but she had little choice now. The allotted ten minutes that her mother had given her had passed and she knew that at any moment the Task Force's strike team would be descending upon the house. She *had* to go down those dark stairs.

She clasped the gun tighter in her hands and placed her foot on the first step. And then slowly, down the other. The further down she went, the darker it seemed to get. Soon, she had to grip her gun in one hand while she used the other to feel the wall around the steps as a way to guide herself down. Her nerves were drawn tighter and tighter the further down she got.

She knew she was in a completely vulunerable position. She was nearly blind, in a precarious position, and holding her weapon in a way that she could be easily disarmed. She swallowed and forced herself to keep going.

[I have no choice.]

And then, she saw a glimmer of light. She forced herself to quicken her pace, and focused on the light that seemed to grow stronger and stronger. Before she knew it, she had reached the bottom step. She quickly stepped into the shadows, letting her eyes get used to the oddly bright light and looked around. Nothing. She listened and could hear the murmur of voices directly in front of her.

She glanced around again, and confident that no one was there, she stepped out from the shadows and made her way forward. She was in a hallway, very similar to the hallways in the house. She guessed that she was in a secret level of the house, one that was accessible only through the hidden stairs that she had just descended.

At the end of the hallway was a door, and from behind the door was the light that she had seen. It was an odd light. It was too powerful to be a simple room light, for from behind the close door, it cast a strong enough glow to illuminate even the furthest end of the hallway.

She edged closer and closer to the door. She could feel her heart rate picking up, while her breathing grew quicker. Her hands felt sweaty and she gripped her gun even tighter. When she was just outside the door, she angled her head and listened.

At first, there was silence, and then she heard it. Sloane's voice. His unmistakable voice, calmly talking to someone.

She examined the door. It was a pretty standard door, with a single lock under the door knob. At least that was the only lock she could see. There might be a bolt on the other side that she was unaware of.

But again, she didn't have much choice. So she angled herself in the most optimal position, gripped her gun tightly and then, gritting her teeth, she kicked at the door with all the strength that she could.

To her surprise, the door gave way. Easily. Perhaps too much so.

The bright light of the room momentarily disoriented her, but she had instinctively rolled into the room and had tucked her body into a defensive position. It took only a few seconds for her eyes to adjust and then she was able to see the room clearly.

She saw her father first. He was bound to a chair, and a gag was tightly wrapped around his mouth. He looked at her with an expression that she could only label as regret. But she didn't have time to dwell on that because her training took over and she continued to assess the room. She only spotted one of Sloane's guards. He was standing near her father. His gun was drawn, aimed at her, but his stance was purely defensive.

She saw Sloane next. He was standing near the back of the room, and looking at her calmly. His expression was almost. . .proudly paternal. It was as if he expected her to burst into the room just as she had. And he was actually *proud* that she had done so.

Before she had a chance to ponder Sloane's expression and the motivation behind it, her roving eyes finally located the source of the bright light. And it was this that made her gasp in shock and forget, momentarily, everything else.

She didn't even know how to describe it. It looked like a windmill. . .a strange, ill-formed windmill. But that was the closest thing she could think of that this. . .*thing* resembled. It was rather small. . .about the size of a standard TV set, except for the two metallic 'panels' extended outwards. The central core, she could see upon closer inspection, was made from. . .Rambaldi artifacts.

She was on her feet now, staring, as if mesmerized by the device. The Rambaldi device. Il Dire.

It was fascinating. All the artifacts seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces and together, they formed what looked like an engine of some sort. She said engine because certain parts were moving, like pistons in an engine. The device made no noise, except for an imperceptible hum.

And in the center of the device was the Di Regno heart, which was glowing bright red. Near where the Di Regno heart was 'beating' a bluish-white light emanated from within the device. She could tell, without even having to look behind the device, that the light was coming from inside the device and not from any other source.

And suddenly, she knew. Her mind had flashed briefly back to her conversation with Marshall and she knew, in that instant, that the Rambaldi device was not a time machine. It was, instead, a key.

"Magnificent isn't it?" said Sloane.

His voice jolted her back to reality. She snapped her weapon back up and aimed it straight at him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sloane's guard tighten his grip on his own weapon while continuing to aim it at her.

Sloane smiled and held up his hands at his guard. "It's O.K." He turned back to her and indicated the Rambaldi device. "You know what it does, don't you Sydney." She could only nod, not yet fully accepting what her mind had just pieced together moments ago.

Sloane turned to her father. "You and Laura did a fine job with her, Jack." Her father glared at Sloane, who only smiled before he looked at the device again. "Who would have thought that the Rambaldi artifacts could be pieced together to create something so. . .wonderous? So powerful?"

"That's how you did this," she said, looking at the bright light emanating from the device. She half-expected something to come from it.

Sloane nodded. "Yes. You understand everything now, don't you?"

She hated to admit it, but she didn't. She still had no idea how her role in the Rambaldi prophecy would allow her to stop Sloane. . .or if she even could given the fact that he had the device, and it was evidently operational.

"I know that you need me," she said, seizing on the piece of information her mother had given her.

Sloane nodded. 'You're right, unfortunately I do need you, Sydney. I say unfortunately because if I had a choice, I wouldn't have brought you into all of this. I wouldn't have brought you here."

"That's a lie!" she cried. "You've planned this for years! It's why you recruited me into SD-6. Why you kidnapped me and brought me here!"

"You're only half-right, Sydney," he said, still as calm as ever. She realized that the calmer he was, the angrier she seemed to get. "I did recruit you into SD-6 because of your role in the prophecy. Yes, I wanted to keep an eye on you, but I also wanted you trained and ready to defend yourself if need be. You need to understand, Sydney, there are many people out there who would like nothing more than to get their hands on this device. And when, not if, they were to discover your role in it, they would have come after you. Had I not taken you under my wing at SD-6, you'd have been entirely vulunerable." He glanced at her father for a brief moment. "Why else did your parents place you into Project Christmas?"

She winced perceptibly and she hated it. She hated showing him how much he could affect her but she couldn't help it. Project Christmas was still a sore subject for her, and learning that it had existed in this world also didn't make it any easier for her to deal with it. She had forgiven her father. She understood his motivations, but that didn't mean it didn't still bother her to have her choices taken away at such a young age.

"So you see, Sydney, I was only completing what your parents had started."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Sloane actually justifying his actions as some sort of. . .protection on her behalf! "You son of a bitch! Don't you dare insinuate that you had my best interests at heart! What you did, you did for yourself!"

"If that were true, you'd have been dead long ago, Sydney." He looked at her, his eyes daring her to challenge him. "The operations you were sent out on while at SD-6, some of the. . .*missteps* shall we say were glaringly obvious. Of course, I couldn't prevent all probes into the matter, but I certainly protected your double agent status for a very long time."

She said nothing. But a small part of her agreed with him. In hindsight, she could name more than a few occasions where it was now obvious that Sloane would have been able to figure out her double agent status if he had really wanted to. Despite the fact that she was an exceptional intelligence agent, she had made more than a few stupid mistakes. Mistakes that should have cost her both her cover, and her life.

But the thought of Sloane having anything to do with her well-being or even *protecting* her was anathema. She couldn't, she wouldn't, accept it.

[He always has an ulterior motive. Always!]

"Didn't you find it odd, Sydney," Sloane said conversationally, "that when you awoke in Hong Kong, you had no bruises and your injuries had scarred over? You were just in a deadly fight with Fran-. . .I mean with Allison only a day or so before."

"You did something to me. When you pulled me. . .here, you did something."

He nodded. "Yes, I did. I cared for you. Tended to your injuries." He looked at her with an expression that she would have classified as 'tender' if the thought of doing so didn't make her physically ill. "The prophecy might have required me to take you, but it didn't require me to harm you. And I haven't."

"You *are* crazy," she said, staring at him in disbelief. "You have done nothing but harm me! Starting with your lies and your. . .sick obsession with Rambaldi. Do you homestly think taking me to some. . .some screwed up version of our past *isn't* harmful? That you're doing this for my benefit?!"

"I understand your anger-"

"I don't care if you understand my anger!" she cried. "You stole two years of my life! You took me and you. . .you. . ." She was so angry that she couldn't even get the words out anymore. "You're gonna pay for this!"

He remained nonplussed. "So now what Sydney? Are you going to arrest me? Use me as your way back into the CIA's good graces?"

He wasn't mocking her, but he might as well have been because he was right. She really didn't know where to go from here. She couldn't go back to the CIA. Even if she used Sloane as a bargaining chip, there was still too much that she couldn't explain. She would still end up with the DSR.

[But I'll be damned if I let Sloane see how confused or scared I am!]

She pointed her gun at him. "You're going to fix this."

He smiled. "Fix it how?"

She suppressed the urge to shoot him. "You know how."

He studied her a moment and then he chuckled. "But you don't, do you?" He turned to her father. "Are you telling me Jack, that in all this time, ever since you discovered my, ah, presence, you and Laura haven't managed to figure out Sydney's role in it all?"

He father kept his expression blank, but she could see in his eyes that what Sloane said was true. And that scared her. Her father *always* knew what to do. He didn't always do the right thing but at least he always had a course of action. The fact that he didn't now deeply scared her.

"All this time?" she asked.

Sloane nodded. "For close to two years now."

"What!"

"You really have been missng Sydney. At least *here.* Here, you've been MIA for close to two years."

His words sank in, slowly and to devastating effect. "You mean you didn't. . .the device didn't. . ."

"No," Sloane said simply. "The device didn't. . .I guess open would be the best word, in Hong Kong several days ago. It opened approximately two years ago, shortly after you decided to be a double agent."

"You've had me. . .all this time?"

"I told you, Sydney. I took care of you. You were in terrible shape when you were located. So after I activated the device, with your help of course, I kept you. . .well, I kept you safe and let you heal."

"I would have woken up long before two years! My injuries weren't that serious."

"You're right," he agreed. "But I couldn't chance it, so I had you placed in an induced coma."

"You did what!" Her anger, always bubbling beneath the surface when she was in Sloane's company was threatening to explode. Very much like it had done in the sitting room earlier that day.

"I had no choice, Sydney. I couldn't just let you go. Not in your condition. And I knew once you were better, you would have questions and attempt to find the answers. That was the. . .best course of action."

"For you!" she cried with vehement hatred. "My God! You deliberately placed me in a coma for two years? I could have. . . ." She stopped and shook her head. There were times, like this, that Sloane's actions truly shocked her. She knew she shouldn't be shocked at anything by now, but the depths to which he sank. . . .the things that he was capable of. . .they still shocked, and sickened, her. "You. . .you're depraved. You don't care about anyone but yourself, do you?"

"That's not true, Sydney. We both know that I'm capable of caring for others."

She stared at him, as the implication of his words hung between them. "Emily."

He nodded. "Yes, Emily."

"Is that why you did this? To get Emily back?"

"Partly. Her death motivated me more, I'll concede. But when I learned, fully, about the device's capabilities, I was as determined as ever." He sighed. "Besides, this was a 30 year journey. By the time I had all the pieces in place, it was long past the point of giving up, or finding a motivator."

"Where is she?"

"She's safe. For now."

"You haven't told her, have you? About what you've done. . .what you're doing."

He shook his head. "I will."

"She betrayed you when she found out before. She'll do it again. Emily has too much. . .integrity. . .to ever stay with you if she really knew you."

He smiled. "Yes, she did betray me. But in the end, she understood, Sydney. She was going to come with me. Despite everything. I'm confident she'll understand this as well. She has put up with my obsession for well over 2 decades now. . .we're both in this for the long run."

"Guess you've got it all figured out, huh?"

"No," he said softly. "Just what I need."

"Except me," she said, defiantly. "I'm never going to help you activate that thing."

He nodded, as if expecting her to say that. "I only wanted a. . .new start." He turned to her father. "I really wanted things different, Jack. But you and Laura, you've made that impossible. First by forcing my hand and making me release Sydney." He turned back to her. "And I suspected that once you were released, you would try to figure things out. I had hoped that having you in CIA custody and monitored would have prevented that. But then your mother manuevered her way into the leadership position within the Task Force." He turned again to her father. "And you, Jack. I had hoped that exchanging you for Sydney would have allowed me to maintain some control over you." He smiled ruefully. "I should have known better, but my personal feelings for all of you got the better of me." He looked at her and shook his head. "Even dumping you in Hong Kong, hundreds of miles away from here, didn't detract either you or your parents."

He walked over and held out his hand. His guard silently handed him the gun. As she watched the exchange, she had a horrifying sense of deja-vu.

"No!" she cried.

"I'm sorry, Sydney. I've done everything I could to avoid this. But you've made it impossible. All of you." He turned to her father, aiming his gun directly at her father's head. "Especially you, Jack. Somehow you managed to sneak communication to Laura and gained the DSR's attention."

"You don't have to do this!" She tried to find an angle by which to shoot Sloane, but his guard stayed close to his side, making any attempt on Sloane impossible. She could take the guard out, certainly, but by the time she did so, Sloane would have shot and killed her father.

"I'm afraid I do. The decision was made long ago. When the DSR began investigating Rambaldi, I knew I couldn't settle here. There are simply too many questions and sooner or later, I would have been found. And I can't risk that." He glanced at the device. "It's time to move on. Permanently."

"I-I'll help you. You don't need to do this!"

Sloane looked at her grimly. "And then what?"

"What?"

"After you agree to activate the device, then what? You'll just let me go?" He shook his head. "No, you see, Sydney, you'll just come after me wherever we end up. And since this time you'll be conscious when you activate the device, you'll know how to operate it, which makes things even riskier for me."

"No! No, I'll-I'll stay here. I won't follow you."

"That's impossible, I'm afraid." He gestured to the device. "You see, as I'm sure you've already figured out, the device opens the portal. The entry to the wormhole that connects time. . .and dimensions. But you, my dear, you and you alone activate the device. And in order to activate it, you must be with the device. There's no way for you to simply stay here while I and the device go through the wormhole."

Her mind was racing. She didn't know what to do. Sloane was determined. There was no mistake. And she knew, no matter the history between her father and Sloane, that Sloane would not hesitate to execute her father if he needed to.

"Then I'll. . ." She stopped, searching desperately for something, anything, that might change his mind. "I'll. . .just. . .I'll stay out of your way. Wherever we end up, I'll. . .forget this."

Even as the words left her mouth, she knew that she was lying. And from Sloane's expression, he knew it as well. "No, you won't." He looked at her a beat before he turned back to her father and cocked the gun.

"No!" she yelled, and made a move towards Sloane. She stopped when she saw his guard move towards her. She would never make it. "W-what. . .that's not gonna. . ..you kill him and I swear, I *swear* I will do everything in my power to hunt you down. I don't care what happens, where we end up. . .I'll never stop coming after you."

Sloane considered her words and nodded. "I know. But I'm hoping, that by showing you. . .*here* what can happen, it'll deter you. . .later."

"You're sick," she whispered, stunned.

He shook his head. "No, I'm determined. You need to understand that Sydney." He turned to her father again and leveled the gun.

In her panicked desperation, an idea suddenly hit her. She whirled and fired at the device, deliberately missing it, but shooting close enough to get Sloane's attention.

"No!" he yelled, turning away from her father.

"I'll destroy it." Her voice was steely. "And then no one is going anywhere. *Ever*"

"You don't want to do that, Sydney."

"I don't?" she challenged, cocking her gun.

"You'd be stuck here forever. And I know you don't want that."

"No," she conceded. "But you'd be stuck here too."

He shrugged. "You're right. But I could always just. . .disappear. I'm dead in this world, remember? Presumed dead at least. But you. . .you're wanted by the US government. By the DSR. And your friends. . they're gone, Sydney. And I'd venture to guess that after today's events, your mother will be joining you soon in federal custody. And Agent Vaughn. . ." He paused and looked at her a beat. "I suppose he may survive the injury. Or he may not. Either way, with you in DSR custody, you don't have a chance. And your father. . .his predicament hasn't changed."

She wanted to scream and hurl herself at Sloane. She was beginning to see the 'genius' of his plan. He had been a step ahead this entire time. He had gone 'back' in time long enough so that his knowledge of Rambaldi would allow him to acquire all the needed artifacts. And with her 'missing' she hadn't been able to impede his work, nor had the CIA. The time period would have also allowed him to manipulate events to his liking, including the downfall of the Alliance. And then when her parents had gotten too close, he had arranged it so that she would be taken back into CIA custody in such a state as to insure DSR's involvment. But when that plan hadn't worked accordingly, he had set in motion events that would make her remaining in this world impossible. He had all but assured that she would activate the device. . .whether she wanted to or not.

Suddenly, she finally understood. And she finally accepted. Not only her role in the prophecy, but her role in stopping Sloane. It was odd. In the craziness. . .the desperation. . .of this moment. . .that was when she began to see things clearly. For the first time ever. Her mother had been right. When the time had come, she did know what to do.

She knew suddenly that fighting Sloane. . .letting her anger and hatred towards him control her actions wasn't the right way to go. The more she struggled against him, the more she hated, the worse her situation became.

[Bind them with fury. A burning anger, unless prevented at vulgar cost, this woman will render the greatest power unto utter desolation.]

The words of the prophecy played in her mind and she understood. Since she had been taken here, Sloane had done nothing but to incite her anger. . .her rage. Why else had he complimented her when she had attacked him in the sitting room? Why else had he shot Vaughn? Or was threatening to shoot her father? All of his actions had been done with one goal in mind – to incite her to fury.

[And I made it too easy for him.]

She looked at the device and once again, the Di Regno heart caught her attention. She wasn't sure how to activate the device, but something told her that the Di Regno heart played a key role in it.

And then, she suddenly knew. Knew what the prophecy meant. And what her role was. And as hard as it was, with all the memories and pain from the past few days, not to mention the last two years, she forced herself to release the anger she felt towards Sloane. To release the hatred she felt for him.

She turned to Sloane and held up her hands. She indicated her gun which she slowly lowered to the ground. Straightening, she kicked the gun away from her, towards the opposite side of the room.

"O.K.," she said softly, continuing to hold her hands up. "You win. What do you want me to do?"

Sloane looked at her, considering her dramatic change in attitude. He lowered the gun he was holding to her father's head. . .but only slightly. "I know you're planning something Sydney. Whatever it is. . .it's not going to work."

"I'm not," she said, feeling an odd sense of calm enveloping her. [It's funny. Dealing with Sloane without anger, without hatred, it was. . .comforting. And clear. I'm finally seeing things clearly for the first time in a long time.]

"I still have to do this," he said, once again raising the gun and pointing it at her father's head.

She nodded, as if accepting it. She looked at her father and forcused as hard as she could, hoping to somehow convey, silently and without code, what she was planning. Her father stared at her, unblinkingly for a second, before he nodded imperceptibly. She gave him one last look, conveying all the emotions she couldn't articulate before she turned and started running with all her might at the Rambaldi device.

Her father must have understood her, because there was a loud 'Thud!' followed by Sloane's cry of surprise, and a gunshot. She chanced a quick glance back and saw that her father had managed to knock himself over so that he and the chair had fallen on Sloane, momentarily pinning him down, and dislodging the gun from Sloane's hand.

"No!" she heard Sloane cry. "Stop her!"

She had reached the device and frantically ran her hands over the heart, looking for a lever, switch, *anything* that would activate it. She didn't get very far when she felt strong hands on her shoulder, roughly pulling her off the device.

Instinctively, she used her momentum and swung a complete circle, throwing the guard off balance. Once she regained her footing, she unceremoniously kicked the guard viciously in the groin, using all her strength. He uttered a cry of pain and keeled forward. She knotted her hands together and swung, aiming for his nose as he feel forward. The combination of his own motion, and her focused power knocked him completely off balance. He fell backwards with a loud thump. Before he could have the chance to recover, she quickly moved and delivered the knock-out blow to his head.

"Stop!"

She whirled and found Sloane, looking angry for the first time since she's seen him, standing behind her father, his gun held directly to her father's temple.

"Get away from there. . .now."

She stayed where she was, glancing between the device and Sloane. She still couldn't see where. . .or how to activate the device. But she knew it had to be near the heart. She just knew it. She glanced at all the artifacts quickly. . .growing slightly frantic. And then she saw it. There was a small space, off the side of the Di Regno heart, and easy to miss.

She glanced into the space and saw that there was a crude handprint, gleaming brightly. It appeared as if the light was originating from there.

A gunshot jolted her from her concentration. She looked quickly at Sloane and her father. Her father was still alive, but there was blood now dripping from his thigh. She looked closer and saw the fresh bullet wound. She quickly looked at her father, who was stoically refusing to give in to the pain.

"That is the last and only warning you get."

She looked at Sloane, anger rising in her again. [No! Stop! No anger. . .no hatred. It's the only way.] She girtted her teeth and drew in a series of quick breaths in an effort to calm herself.

"This has to end," she said softly. "And I know just how to do it."

"Do you? What makes you think that the things that happen here won't affect things . . .later? Time isn't entirely linear, but there's still certain laws to be obeyed. You don't know that if your father is killed now. . that he won't remain dead."

She looked at her father, letting Sloane's words sink in. She hadn't considered that possibility. Honestly, she had naively thought that the world as she remembered it was somehow encapsulated. . .exactly as she remembered it. . .and just waiting for her return. She knew, however, the odds of that weren't good. If things had changed here because of something that Sloane had done two years ago, then things done now, they would affect tomorrow. . .next month. . .next year. . .or whatever time and place she found herself.

Her father caught her eyes then, and she understood the feelings he was conveying to her silently. She nodded, and took a deliberate step towards the device. "I have nothing to lose. You made sure of that."

"But you don't have to lose everything, Sydney. You work with me, and I promise you, we can find a way to co-exist. We don't need to constantly be at odds and risking other people's lives." He made a gesture towards the device. "There was a reason I was placed on the quest to assemble that device Sydney, and a reason why you were the one Rambaldi prophesized about. Clearly, we were meant to work together. We could use that device to do real good." He smiled. "There was a time when I believed in doing good. . .in fighting the good fight."

She shook her head. "You don't get it. No one should have this kind of power. Least of all you."

"You don't give me any choice then," said Sloane. He looked at her father, and then at her, and before she knew it, he had raised the gun, and fired. . .directly at her. She didn't feel anything at first, and then a hot, burning pain seared her left shoulder. She uttered a cry and crumpled to her knees as the pain overwhelmed her.

She saw Sloane walking towards her, gun raised. She forced herself to focus on the Rambaldi device, and with a great surge of strength, she pushed herself up and ran towards the device, hand outstretched and aiming for the small space.

"No!" There was another gunshot in her direction, but she ignored it. Everything in her was focused on reaching the device, and inserting her hand into the space near the Di Regno heart.

It seemed too take forever to close the few feet separating her from the device, but at last, she reached it and without hesitation, she jammed her hand into the small space, fitting her fingers within the handprint. Of course, it fitted perfectly.

A radiant heat encompassed her hand, and she instinctively felt like jerking her hand away, like someone who had touched a flame, but she kept her hand there. The imperceptible hum of the device grew louder until it became a whistling, and the light grew brighter, and more focused, until she felt as if she were shrouded in it.

"No!"

Sloane's voice seemed very far away until she felt his hands on her shoulder. He wasn't pulling her away, but felt as if he were hanging onto her. She gritted her teeth, and with one quick, strong, and painful movement, twisted so that she elbowed him. She felt her elbow make solid contact with rib cage and heard him grunt in pain. Ignoring the shooting pain in her injured shoulder, she elbowed him again and felt him fall away from her body. Turning so that she could look behing her while keeping her hand inside the device, she found Sloane kneeling near her feet.

The bright light had grown so much now that it seemed to encompass the entire room. It was so bright now that she could no longer see her father, or Sloane's guard. The only things visible were those within reaching distance from her. Acting instinctively, she lifted her leg, and kicked Sloane, so that he fell further away from her.

"No, Sydney! Don't! You don't-"

She said nothing, only looking at him. Their eyes held for a brief instant and a world of understanding passed between them then. His eyes bore traces of regret and loss, while hers shone with determination. With all the strength that she had left, she reared her leg back and gave Sloane a swift kick, sending him hurling backwards and into the light. His cry of pain was cut off abruptly as he fell back, into the light, and out of her sight.

She looked around. All she could see was the bright light. And all she could hear was the strange, almost eerie whistling, sound. And then, abruptly, the whistling began to die down and she could see the light dimming on the outer edges, as if shrinking back towards the device.

[I guess this is it.]

She drew in a shaky breath and then, jerked her hand out of the device quickly. Then, without pause, she placed both her hands around the Di Regno heart and tugged. It held fast at first but after 3 hard tugs, it finally gave away. She fell backwards, landing on her back and hitting her head on the hard. . .something.

Pain and dizziness overwhelmed her consciousness, and she fought to stay awake. It was a losing battle, however, and before she blacked out, she was able to get in a quick prayer.

[Please God, wherever I am, please let it be OK. Please.]

**********CIA Hospital, May 22, 2003, Evening**********

Consciousness was painful.

That was her first thought. It was as if every single nerve in her body was in pain. . .and letting her know it. She groaned softly.

"Sydney?" a familiar voice asked her. A voice that made her heart swell with hope. But she was scared so she resisted opening her eyes. If that voice was some figment of a lingering dream, some subconscious manifestation of her wildest dream, she didn't want to erase it by giving into consciousness.

"Syd."

[Oh, God. . .please, please, don't let this be a dream.]

With a soft groan, she slowly opened her eyes. She winced and uttered a cry of protest against the bright light. She blinked rapidly to let her vision adjust and then, once she saw clearly, she could see that she was in a hospital room. She was suddenly aware of the soft beeps and whirls of medical machinery. She shifted and was rewarded with a jolting pain.

"Hey, easy, easy."

She closed her eyes momentarily and braced herself before she opened her eyes and shifted her gaze towards that familiar voice. Towards *his* voice.

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry when his green eyes met hers with an expression of utter joy. So she settled for a shaky smile.

"Welcome back," he said softly, brushing the hair from her face.

"You're alive," she blurted out without thinking.

"What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Where am I?"

"Naval base hospital." He touched her head with a shaky hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Uh. . ."

"Let me get a doctor," he said, rising and heading for the door.

"No!" she cried, and grabbed at his hand. Her abrupt movement caused a new wave of pain to wash over her, but she ignored it. There were more important things. [Like where the hell I am now.]

His hand gripped hers in return and he settled back down by her bedside. She finally looked at him for the first time and was surprised by what she saw. He was unshaven, his hair was mussed and the lines on his face seemed more prominent. He looked disheveled, as if he had spent the night, many nights, in a chair or some other uncomfortable place. But his eyes, though bloodshot and weary, shone with love, recognition and familiarity for her.

Her heart swelled with hope and when she realized she was still holding his hand, his left hand, she allowed her thumb to feel along his fingers.

No ring.

Her heart began to beat a little faster. She looked at him for a second, gathering courage to ask what she wanted, needed, to ask.

"Y-you're not married?"

His forehead crinkled in confusion, which was quickly followed by concern. Then his expression melted into one of tender intimacy and he whispered, as he stroked her cheek softly,

"Not yet."

A sob/laugh escaped from her lips. "Oh, God."

"Syd, are you OK?"

She nodded, as a tear rolled down her cheek. "M-my Dad?" His expression grew concerned and that swell of hope that had been rising in her heart stopped just as suddenly. "Vaughn, my Dad, he's OK? Please!"

"Shh, Syd," he said soothingly. "Your father's fine. He's. . .on a mission. I'll ask Weiss to send word to him that you're awake." He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her head. "Now, I really think I should get a doctor to examine you."

"No! Wait!"

"Syd, I really think-"

"J-Just tell me. . .what happened?"

He resumed his position by her bed. "You don't remember?"

"Uh. . . ." She searched her mind for an appropriate response. Not sure what, or where, she had found herself, she wasn't quite sure what to reveal. Her experiences left her uneasy, and distrustful.

"Syd?"

She looked back at him and saw his love, concern and his protectiveness of her and she remembered. She remembered *that* Vaughn. . .and his loyalty towards her no matter what. She remembered how he was willing to risk everything for her, despite the fact that there would be no payoff for him. And she remembered how easy it was to trust him.

She realized then that no matter where she was now, or where she had been, there had been constants. Her father's love and protection for her above all else. Her mother's enigmatic presence. And Vaughn's love and loyalty. If she could trust anyone, anywhere, and at any time, it was Vaughn.

"Uh, I was fighting Francie. . .Francie's double."

No sign of shock, surprise or confusion which was definitely a good sign. "That's all you remember?"

"The rest. . .is kind of blurry," she said softly.

He expelled a slow breath, all the while, stroking her head gently, as if he needed the physical contact. "You. . ." He shook his head. "You were gone. W-when I came back. . .later. . .your place, it was a mess. There was blood everywhere and-"

"Oh my God! Will?"

"He's OK." Vaughn smiled. "He's was in this hospital too. He was released a week ago."

"Good, " she said, offering a silent prayer. The more Vaughn told her, the less uneasy she began to feel. It was as if she really were 'back'.

"Do you want me to-" She nodded in response to his silent question. "Um, I came back and your place was. . .completely trashed. But you were. . .gone."

"What?"

"When Will gained consciousness, he told us about Francie and the rest, we kind of pieced together." He closed his eyes briefly, as if a memory was still too painful. "I-I thought. . .I don't know what I thought. Some days I knew you were alive and others. . .it just felt like you were really gone." He cleared his throat. "Uh, anyway, the Task Force did everything they could to find you and we weren't having much luck when a few days ago, you surfaced in Rome. Your father and I, we went to get you and after you were stable enough, you were transferred from the hospital in Rome back to here."

"Los Angeles?"

He nodded and looked at her inquisitively. "You really don't remember what happened after your fight with Francie?"

She looked at him, contemplating. She knew she'd tell him the truth. Eventually. But not right now. "I. . .where's my father? You said he's on a mission?" Vaughn looked down, and then subconsciously swiped his nose. She couldn't help but smile at the familiar gesture. "Vaughn?"

"It's uh. . .not CIA-sanctioned."

Somehow she knew. "Sloane?"

He looked at her, surprised. "H-how. . .uh, yeah."

"Sloane's here?"

Another look of surprise. "Of course. He disappeared in Mexico City, remember? We haven't seen nor heard from him since but your father is convinced that Sloane had something to do with your disappearance and then reappearance. He left for Nepal yesterday, saying he was going to track down a common friend that he and Sloane had." He eyed her curiously. "How'd you know that your father's looking for Sloane?"

She shrugged and a searing pain coursed through her shoulder. She groaned in pain. "Hey, easy. . .you got shot in that shoulder, remember?"

[What!]

She turned her head and peered at her left shoulder. Sure enough, a big bandage swathed her entire left shoulder and part of her arm. Instinctively, she glanced at her wrist. Sure enough, the wrist that had been badly bruised and bloody from her attempts to get out of the cuffs was also bandaged. Her mind raced, trying to calculate all the possibilities and she found that she couldn't. There were too many unanswered questions. . .and only one other person would fully understand.

She sighed. She didn't know whether Sloane had somehow managed to cross through the wormhole with her. She couldn't even believe that she was talking about crossing wormholes! The last few days. . .weeks. . .they had been untterly incredible and she knew it would take that much time, if not more just to figure everything out.

She hoped that she had time for that. And she hoped she had time to build on her relationships. With Will. With her father. With Vaughn. And even with her mother. She knew she was no longer the same person she was before all of these fantastic events had occurred, and the world she was in now was probably different too. But there were always her constants. That was enough. . .for the time being.

Still, one thing nagged at her. One thing that she needed to ask. "Did you find the Rambaldi device?"

He looked stunned as he shook his head. "No. . .but when we found you, you had the Di Regno heart that was stolen from the NSC."

"I-I did?"

"You don't remember that?"

She shook her head, considering Vaughn's words. [So if I did manage to disable the device by removing the heart, what happened to the rest of it? I wonder if Sloane got it?] "Where's the heart now?"

He shook his head. "The NSC lost custody of it based on their previous ineptitude with safeguarding Rambaldi artifacts, so Langley took possession. Last I heard, it was in a secure, undisclosed location." She nodded, but said nothing. "Syd, the CIA. . .the whole Task Force, actually, they're gonna want to know what happened. Where you were, how you got to Rome, who shot you, how you got the Di Regno heart. . .are you sure you don't remember?"

She smiled. She should have been worried, but yet she wasn't. Her experience with Sloane, and with the Rambaldi device somehow lent her a sense of peace. . .of calmness. She didn't doubt that she'd be intensively debriefed once released from the hospital, but she also had confidence that with Vaughn and her father, and possibly even her mother, watching out for her, she would make it through OK. And even if Sloane had somehow made it 'back' here with her, she knew now how to best handle him.

There would always be questions. Some that wouldn't ever be answered. But she could accept that because the questions that she needed answers to, she would find. She was confident of that.

"I'll, uh. . .I'll tell you later, OK?" she asked him with a smile as she stroked his hand. "But right now, I'm. . .I'd rather talk about something else."

"What?"

"Our trip."

"Trip?"

She grinned. "Santa Barbara. The beach. The Biltmore. La Super Rica."

He chuckled softly as he leaned closer to her, almost resting his head against her own. "I didn't think you'd remember."

"I wouldn't forget that."

"OK, then," he said with a happy smile. "As soon as we can, we're going there."

"Great," she said with a soft laugh. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips and she knew it then. She was truly right where she belonged. It didn't matter that things had changed, or would change. That was the nature of their lives. But there were constants, there were things that didn't change. Ever. And those things were enough. "But Vaughn? I still want to go the zoo to see that giraffe."

Their mingled laughter filled the hospital room, and she let the sound comfort and heal her.

Fin. :)