Sydney made her way to her desk. Her thoughts were jumbled. Was she doing
the right thing? Stop thinking like that, she berated herself. It didn't
matter. She had to have answers. She wasn't getting them here. After 4
months, no one knew what the hell had happened to her. They didn't seem
that concerned with trying to find out either. They ran test after test,
did regression therapy, sent her to Barnett, and then gave up. Nothing.
Zip. So, they offered her a desk job and limited security. Still, she
took the job. She had nothing else to do. If she left, she would lose any
ability to obtain information. And information is what she needed.
It wasn't enough to be told that she had been missing for almost two years, to have the CIA give up on her, to have Vaughn move on with his life, and to be poked and prodded like a Thanksgiving turkey. She had lost her herself. She had no real identity anymore, and didn't fit in anywhere. She was not the same Sydney Bristow. The ironic part is, she didn't remember changing. She was bitter, disillusioned, and aching. But, she would not give up. She wasn't going to be beaten.
The other huge blow had been delivered to her when she had arrived back in L.A. Her father was gone. The CIA had no idea where he was, and assumed that he was working with Sloane or dead. Sydney firmly believed that he was alive. But, she also knew that Jack Bristow would never willingly work with Sloane. No one would listen to her. They all insisted that he had changed after she had been declared dead. The day the star went on the wall, he threw his badge in Kendall's face and walked out. There had been no contact since. He was listed as one of the most wanted in the world, right under Sloane and Irina Derevko, her mother. She knew the man that her father was better than anyone. He would not work with Sloane unless he had no choice or had another agenda. The CIA thought that maybe since she was back, Jack or Irina would contact her. Little did they know, that if her parents did contact her, she sure in the hell wasn't telling them.
As for Vaughn, he had moved on. He had a wife. He was happy. She couldn't help but be bitter and wonder about what might have been. To her, they were together 4 months ago, ready to take a vacation to Santa Barbara. She still loved him, but she knew that she had to move past it. She couldn't change it, no matter how much it hurt. And, she resented him. Resented him for giving up on her, for moving on, for leaving the CIA. But, she had to be honest with herself; she knew why he did it. He couldn't handle anymore. He just wasn't that strong. He needed some semblance of a normal life and some happiness. She had to give him credit. He came for her. He tried to explain. She listened and then compartmentalized. She just couldn't deal with it. Then, he went back to his new life. Maybe one day she could be happy for him.
Will wasn't the same either. She couldn't believe at first that he was alive, but he was. He was there, in flesh and blood. But, he wasn't her Will anymore. He was in a wheelchair, which, she had to admit, didn't seem to phase him. He had become a senior analyst. She knew that he still cared about her, but he had been through too much to be her rock anymore. They still talked and spent time together, but it was strained. It was just too much to face.
The others were still around. Weiss, Dixon, Marshall, and Kendall. The only one that hadn't changed was Kendall. He was still an ass. The others were polite, and happy to have her back, but the loss of time was apparent. They went about their everyday business, and she had no part in that.
After being released, she had been contacted by her mother. She offered help and some explanations about the prophecy. At first, Sydney was extremely wary, considering their past history. But, after what she had been through the past months, and what she couldn't remember from the past two years, she was willing to take the risk. She realized that Irina had her own reasons for the things she had done. She didn't agree with all of them or even know every reason, but there it was. And she knew, deep down, that her mother had nothing to do with the past two years. She also knew that Irina agreed with her about her father. It still amazed her that despite everything, her mother still believed in her father. After all she had done and he had done, she still loved him. She wondered how her father felt.
So, she agreed. She was willing to do anything to find answers. The first step was to get Sark out of custody. Sydney wondered why she wasn't more skeptical about this, but things change. He had killed many people, including having a hand in Francie's death. But, Sydney had also killed people. Maybe with a different motivation behind it, but it was still there. Her mother insisted that even though he'd been in custody for two years, he still had contacts in the places they needed. She knew the only chance that she had was with the help of him and her mother. The pieces would fall into place later.
She had nothing else. Home was a hotel room, since her place had been sold. Will was distant, her father was gone, and Francie died almost three years ago. She had her personal belongings, but they were foreign to her now. They belonged to another Sydney. She couldn't live like this. Like she didn't exist anymore. Like she wasn't alive. Somewhere, there was a place for her. And there were answers.
It wasn't enough to be told that she had been missing for almost two years, to have the CIA give up on her, to have Vaughn move on with his life, and to be poked and prodded like a Thanksgiving turkey. She had lost her herself. She had no real identity anymore, and didn't fit in anywhere. She was not the same Sydney Bristow. The ironic part is, she didn't remember changing. She was bitter, disillusioned, and aching. But, she would not give up. She wasn't going to be beaten.
The other huge blow had been delivered to her when she had arrived back in L.A. Her father was gone. The CIA had no idea where he was, and assumed that he was working with Sloane or dead. Sydney firmly believed that he was alive. But, she also knew that Jack Bristow would never willingly work with Sloane. No one would listen to her. They all insisted that he had changed after she had been declared dead. The day the star went on the wall, he threw his badge in Kendall's face and walked out. There had been no contact since. He was listed as one of the most wanted in the world, right under Sloane and Irina Derevko, her mother. She knew the man that her father was better than anyone. He would not work with Sloane unless he had no choice or had another agenda. The CIA thought that maybe since she was back, Jack or Irina would contact her. Little did they know, that if her parents did contact her, she sure in the hell wasn't telling them.
As for Vaughn, he had moved on. He had a wife. He was happy. She couldn't help but be bitter and wonder about what might have been. To her, they were together 4 months ago, ready to take a vacation to Santa Barbara. She still loved him, but she knew that she had to move past it. She couldn't change it, no matter how much it hurt. And, she resented him. Resented him for giving up on her, for moving on, for leaving the CIA. But, she had to be honest with herself; she knew why he did it. He couldn't handle anymore. He just wasn't that strong. He needed some semblance of a normal life and some happiness. She had to give him credit. He came for her. He tried to explain. She listened and then compartmentalized. She just couldn't deal with it. Then, he went back to his new life. Maybe one day she could be happy for him.
Will wasn't the same either. She couldn't believe at first that he was alive, but he was. He was there, in flesh and blood. But, he wasn't her Will anymore. He was in a wheelchair, which, she had to admit, didn't seem to phase him. He had become a senior analyst. She knew that he still cared about her, but he had been through too much to be her rock anymore. They still talked and spent time together, but it was strained. It was just too much to face.
The others were still around. Weiss, Dixon, Marshall, and Kendall. The only one that hadn't changed was Kendall. He was still an ass. The others were polite, and happy to have her back, but the loss of time was apparent. They went about their everyday business, and she had no part in that.
After being released, she had been contacted by her mother. She offered help and some explanations about the prophecy. At first, Sydney was extremely wary, considering their past history. But, after what she had been through the past months, and what she couldn't remember from the past two years, she was willing to take the risk. She realized that Irina had her own reasons for the things she had done. She didn't agree with all of them or even know every reason, but there it was. And she knew, deep down, that her mother had nothing to do with the past two years. She also knew that Irina agreed with her about her father. It still amazed her that despite everything, her mother still believed in her father. After all she had done and he had done, she still loved him. She wondered how her father felt.
So, she agreed. She was willing to do anything to find answers. The first step was to get Sark out of custody. Sydney wondered why she wasn't more skeptical about this, but things change. He had killed many people, including having a hand in Francie's death. But, Sydney had also killed people. Maybe with a different motivation behind it, but it was still there. Her mother insisted that even though he'd been in custody for two years, he still had contacts in the places they needed. She knew the only chance that she had was with the help of him and her mother. The pieces would fall into place later.
She had nothing else. Home was a hotel room, since her place had been sold. Will was distant, her father was gone, and Francie died almost three years ago. She had her personal belongings, but they were foreign to her now. They belonged to another Sydney. She couldn't live like this. Like she didn't exist anymore. Like she wasn't alive. Somewhere, there was a place for her. And there were answers.