This is the last chapter of AtD...sad, isnt it? We'll be posting the epilogue soon. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! Hopefully Dani and I will collaborate again in the future.

Chapter Nine

"Mountaineer, this is Sparrow. You're clear for entry."

"Copy that. Thanks, Sparrow."

With the approved clearance, Sydney advanced towards the building in the distance, attempting to concentrate on getting inside unnoticed the hopefully air conditioned storage facility, as opposed to the mind numbing heat pressing down on her.

Her male cohorts, luckily, could always be counted on to distract her from her discomfort. "Hey Sparrow?" Vaughn muttered from beside her as they neared their destination.

"Yes, Boyscout?"

"Why Sparrow?"

"You don't remember? When I was issued my new code three months ago, Marshall had developed an incurable fetish for Pirates of the Carabbean."

Sydney found herself smirking despite the sweat gathering on the back of her neck and the tight knot beginning to form in her stomach, which was growing more rapidly as she and Vaughn closed the distance to the building.

An undeniable sense of déjà vu overcame her as the guards were taken out, swiftly and silently, and she paused for a moment to shake the feeling off. Vaughn touched her arm in concern, but she just shook her head and motioned for him to follow her in. Oiling the doors in case of rust, Vaughn lingered a moment outside as Sydney pulled the heavy door towards her. Inside was a single light bulb, droning lazily. The room was bare.

"The back," Sydney whispered into her comm, pointing towards a steel door in the rear of the empty room. Her feet were light as she stepped across the floor, and a strong sense of foreboding made her hesitate when she pulled the door open. She got over it quickly, however, and stepped into the room.

The temperature was icy; so refreshingly shocking to her clammy skin, and she breathed in deep, relishing in the wakeup call it was to her senses. As her skin began to tingle, her eyes scanned the room, and she gasped.

Through the darkness, her gaze fell on a large, compelling shape in the middle of the room; an archway. An archway leading seemingly to nothing.

Suddenly, the stiff hairs on the back of her neck didn't seem like they were from the cold anymore.

I've done this before... I've seen this before... I know what this is... repeated somewhere in her mind. Though she couldn't connect the concept to a specific time or place, it urged her to move forward, closer to the object, close enough to see the tiny engravings that decorated its surface.

She saw nothing on the other side but the blank wall that surrounded all four sides of the room. Still, she found herself bringing her fingers to the engravings, not sure why she felt the need to press them down.

Instantly, she pulled back as the material seemed to bite into her skin, scorching her. Upon examination, she found that the markings were imprinting into her fingertips, and the last sign, upon her pinky, was the Rambaldi eye.

A green glow began to form in the center of the arch, and grew in intensity until it enveloped her, and she heard the cries from the other side of the room and her comm fade slowly until all she was aware of was a floating sensation and the light that bombarded her eyelids.

In her mind she heard two voices, both her own, calling, beckoning, tearing her in two, and she was filled with a powerful yearning to make it end. Images began to appear, belonging to the first voice, she knew, and they were scenes of her, drinking with Weiss, crying alone, smiling with her father. The other voice took over and she was back with Vaughn, kissing him, talking to Will in the hospital, and she was filled with such a need to choose that it was painful.

It was so agonizingly obvious, but the images faded and she was left with only depressing memories that she didn't have, and she felt herself sobbing into an oblivion until the light faded and she was left with only black.

A heavy silence crashed in, perfectly matching the empty blackness. All she could feel was her head spinning, and suddenly, a tiny rustling could be heard within the deepest corner of her mind.

Slowly, gradually, it grew louder and louder, as though someone were turning up a muted radio. They were muffled noises, morphing into voices, but welcomed sounds just the same.

The rapid rotation of her mind began to slow, and new sensations swept in. An uncomfortable prick in her inner arm, a cool mattress underneath her, and someone's warm hand in her own. She concentrated hard on the last feeling, listening intently to the muffled voice as she did so.

It sharpened in her mind more easily than she'd thought it would. "Sydney..." the voice repeated. "Syd... Syd, come on. Open your eyes for me..."

She wanted desperately to obey this command, to free herself of the blackness and greet the light and comfort she hoped was waiting for her. But could she? She still couldn't seem to force her brain to connect its thoughts with the rest of her body.

"Open your eyes, Syd... please. For me."

Do it, Sydney. For him. Come on... just a little movement... you can do it. Don't let him down.

Finally, her eyelids sluggishly but surely unveiled her hazel irises, her pupils growing quickly and causing her eyes to sting and water at the sight of florescent lighting. She focused her sights on him instead. "Hi."

"Syd... thank God." Suddenly, it wasn't just her hand wrapped in his touch; it was her whole body, though more loosely than she would have liked as he was probably afraid of hurting her or disturbing the IV that she now noticed in her arm. She wasn't about to complain about it though, and rested her head on his shoulder.

"We were so worried," he muttered.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his shirt, kissing it softly before pulling away. Her need to know overcame the want to remain in his embrace. "What happened?"

His hand came up to rub the weariness out of his eyes briefly, but he smiled and quickly took her hand, rubbing the soft skin of her palm with his thumb. "Do you remember the mission at all?" he asked, eyes on her hands.

"We were in Africa, looking for a Rambaldi device in a storage facility. There was an arch..." she trailed off, staring over his shoulder. Her mouth opened in remembrance, and for a moment she was unaware of everything around her. Memories of both lives returned; she remembered living in pain, and she remembered living in pleasure.

"Vaughn," she gasped, grasping his hand tightly, "You...we're....are we...are...are you married?"

His forehead erupted into those adorable wrinkles she'd come to love so much, and his hand came up to cradle her face. "I don't know what that thing did to you, Syd, but you're talking crazy."

"But... I... You were..." she tried to explain, but was unable to find a way. His hand on her cheek, and although immensely comforting, also served to confuse her further. What the hell happened to everything?

In her mind, she tried to connect what was going on now as to what had already occurred. She remembered being faced with both realities in the archway; she'd been forced to choose.

It hadn't seemed right. Why should she have been allowed to redo everything when the rest of the world had to go on living with their bad decisions and misfortunes?

But in the end, her heart had won the grueling battle with her head. When the light surrounded her, she knew where she wanted and deserved to be. Right here, right where she lay.

She smiled a little as she snapped out of her reverie and remembered what Vaughn had just said. "Oh... I know, it's just... I'm a little dazed. I don't really know what I'm saying," she gasped.

"Obviously," he chuckled. He stroked her cheek with his index finger, silent, wondering at how close he had come to losing her. He had no clue just how close, however, and neither did she.

"How long have I been out?" she asked as his finger continued its journey down her face and neck, finally trailing down her arm and settling in her hand.

"Three and a half days," he muttered, and she could see the weariness behind his eyes. There was no doubt in her mind that he had barely slept during her mental absence.

She stretched her neck and groaned. "Ugh, No wonder I feel like I've been hit by numerous buses." Or perhaps I feel that way because I just escaped from my personal hell with the help of a 15th century semicircle, she thought, but didn't voice this aloud.

Vaughn chuckled and moved his hand into her hair, feeling more relief and comfort with each stroke than he had since the night of the fire; the moment he'd found her huddled up on his floor beside his bookshelf. She smiled up at him, hardly able to believe that any other way of life had existed. The torturing, nightmarish reality she'd fallen out of just a month ago was already becoming a fading memory under his touch. "Vaughn?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever think about things that have happened? I mean... what if they'd happened differently? Like... what if you'd made a different choice when faced with some seemingly insignificant decision? Where would you end up?" Vaughn looked at her oddly for a moment, unsure of where this question had come from and where it was headed. But something in her eyes told him that it didn't matter; she just needed an answer. His fingers continued their journey through her matted hair, down her temple, softly curling around her cheek.

"Well... I guess everyone does. But most of the time, people can't predict how their life would change if they'd chosen to wear the red tie or the blue tie, or watch reruns of Friends instead of CSI. I guess I just make my choices... and I try not to look back... not to say I don't," he corrected, "But I try. There's no use dwelling on the past when it's unchangeable."

For a moment, Sydney was silent, taking in his answer. She wanted to ask about what happens if the past is changeable but kept the words in. She wondered briefly if she should tell him about the other reality, about her supposed death and memory loss, about his relationship with Lauren. But before her inner battle could rage, Vaughn spoke up again.

"Syd?"

"Yeah?"

"I want you to know that... even though no one knows how their life would turn out... I have some idea. I have no doubt that regardless of what decisions I've made in my life... in the end..." he paused, hesitating, "They all would have led me to you. And we'd be together no matter what." he finished quietly, still gently caressing her face with his thumb.

She grinned, placing her hand over his, now lost in thoughts about what he was saying. Was he right? If she had stayed in that other world, would they have ultimately been together in the end anyway? After a moment, she decided that the answer was most likely yes. It might have taken an eternity, and they might have dealt with more pain than anyone should have to endure in a lifetime. But she had faith, just as he did, that they'd always find each other.

"Vaughn?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"I love you."

He smiled widely, the already obvious but never verbalized statement warming the air all around them. "I love you too, Syd." He leaned down to connect his lips with hers, and in that moment she had made up her mind. It didn't matter what could have been, what would have happened. All that mattered was where she should be. Here.

All of her decisions had brought her here, to this moment. This was where she belonged. When she was with Vaughn, the journey ended. And in spite of everything, maybe the path she'd chosen hadn't made all that much of a difference.

It had been three and a half lengthy days since he arrived at this godforsaken piece of land, and he was sitting in the same position that he'd assumed shortly after he'd deduced what phenomenon was occurring.

A tremendous jolt knocked him out of his meditation; he had to brace himself against the cool metal wall to keep his balance.

The glow from the arch had finally returned—he smiled grimly, pulling the gun from the waistband of his pants. The archway shuddered, creaking ominously as the glow intensified, blinding him. He fell to his knees, dropping the gun to the floor. He didn't hear it land.

He never found out who it was that destroyed his plans; during the creation of the arch he unwittingly supplied it with enough power to implode...

To Be Concluded...