A/N: Thanks again to Chimaera for betating, and test reading. And to PRL, for being a wonderful muse, especially with her insights on Sark.
Part 3: In the scars of yesterday...
Six weeks earlier
"Sydney?"
Sydney startled and glanced around the office. She was sitting on a soft gray couch. Several potted plants sat near large windows. A glass of water and a pitcher sat on the table in front of her. She was hugging herself uncomfortably and shifted.
Across the room sat her therapist. An auburn haired woman in her late forties. She wore a sweater, thin rimmed silver glasses. A pen was in her hand, resting against a notepad. Dr. Burke was giving her a concerned frown. "Did you hear my question?"
Sydney blinked and glanced at her watch. Ten minutes later than the last time she'd checked. She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. I guess I'm not really focused enough to be doing this today." She looked down apologetically.
Dr. Burke put aside her notepad and pen. She sighed. "Sydney, I was surprised when you called me last month wanting to start setting up appointments. Especially when you'd been so adamant before that counseling was exactly what you didn't need. But after looking over the records from your overnight stay at Bayview Mental Hospital, things seemed clearer. Except, when you come in here an hour a week and talk to me, I'm not sure we ever more than touch on the root of the problem."
Sydney frowned slightly. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."
The doctor straightened the glasses on her nose. "Some days, we talk about your father and how you feel as though it's a burden for him to be concerned for you. The majority of the time we talk about your son. The two of them seem to be your main reason for coming here. And your concern for yourself seems to extend only so far as it affects them. You don't really seem to come here for you."
Sydney swallowed and looked at her watch again.
Dr. Burke debated, then questioned. "What were you thinking about just now?"
Sydney straightened. "I've been home almost...almost a year. I like being with family, my friends. Having my apartment. Just being a mother. Being normal." She sighed. "But every time things seemed to being coming along well, something happens and I'm reminded how not normal everything is. And I can't help but feel, things aren't going to stay this way."
"It's normal, after a trauma, to have feelings of uncertainty about how much longer you might live or if your life can ever be good again."
"What I'm feeling doesn't feel normal."
The doctor sighed. "Then, why don't you tell about what happened two months ago?"
Sydney nodded, but her expression went blank.
2 Months Earlier
He closed the door to the baby's room and headed into the living room. He stood there waiting as the door unlocked and opened. She tensed to see him standing there. She didn't relax as she closed the door, locked it, and shed her coat.
"I've been waiting an hour," he informed her.
She looked unimpressed. "It takes amazingly longer to check yourself out of a mental institution than it does to check yourself in." She turned, opened the closet, and hung up her coat. "Don't let me keep you." She headed towards the kitchen.
He knew it wasn't so much that she wasn't expecting him to follow but rather hoping he wouldn't. "We have to talk about this."
She turned her back to him and opened a cupboard. "No, we don't." She removed a glass from the cupboard. "You proved your point. I had a horrible weekend. You got everything you wanted, so leave me alone. See you next month." She casually turned on the faucet and filled her glass with water.
He stepped closer slowly. "I'm sorry about what happened."
She smirked at him. "Oh really? Are you?" she cooed. Then, she glared at him. "Have you considered the possibility that you caused it?"
"What I've considered is that it would have happened anyway. And that it was better that I took the action I did, instead of things playing out the way they could have if I hadn't."
Sydney shook her head. "If you're so certain I'm a crazy, horrible parent, then why did you bring him back to me?" She lifted her water glass and started to drink it.
"Because I'm not certain of anything," he snapped, annoyed at her for not listening. "I'm concerned for you. I'm sorry you find that so upsetting."
She lowered the half empty glass, dumped it, and set it beside the sink. "I'm not upset with you," she mumbled, as she headed back to the living room. She sunk onto the couch. She hugged herself around the waist, staring blankly into nowhere.
He sighed and moved to stand just in front of her. "It wasn't your fault."
A dry laugh escaped her, and she didn't even look up at him.
He knelt down and took each of her hands carefully into his own. "I know you would control it if you could."
She blinked and actually looked at him. Her fingers moved and for a moment he thought she was about to dig her nails into his palms. Instead, she squeezed his hands and looked down. "I'm sorry." She shook her head apologetically.
He tightened his grip on her hands and watched her seriously. "Why?"
She pulled her hands from his and ran them through her hair. "I'm not like this. I don't...lose my mind. And you..." She glanced towards the baby's room. "You both deserve better."
He moved to sit down beside her. "I don't expect you to be completely over it. I only wanted you to take of yourself."
She leaned into him, looking down at her hands. "I just want to forget and move on."
He put his arm around her and hugged her closer. "I know."
"What do you do to forget?" she whispered. She looked up at him.
He looked her in the eyes and ran his hand through her hair. "I don't. I just go on."
She rested her head against his chest. "When do you have to leave?"
He rested his chin on her head, inhaling her silky hair. "Perhaps an hour. Would you like to talk until then?"
She tensed, hesitating. "I don't want to talk. I want to listen. Just tell me about your weekend. Everything you did."
He sighed. "Sydney, it'd be better if you talk--"
"Please," she pleaded. "For one hour, let me forget."
He rubbed his hand up and down her arm a moment. "For an hour," he agreed, kissing the top of her head.
He began to speak, keeping his voice soft. He felt her start to feel heavier with each moment. It was perhaps only twenty minutes before he realized she had the rhythmic breathing of a person asleep. He stayed the rest of the hour anyway. Then, he moved her carefully, propping pillows under her head, hoping she could still be comfortable without him. He covered her with a blanket, rubbing her back gently, when it seemed like she might be stirring. He watched her several extra moments after she was still.
Then, he slipped away soundlessly.
3 Days Earlier
Jack dragged himself from deep sleep to grab onto the phone. It was too late for it not to be important. "Jack Bristow."
There was no sound a moment, and then a sniffle. "I'm sorry to call so late."
"Sydney? Where are you?"
She sniffled again. "I don't--I'm not sure."
"Sydney, are you all right?"
There was a distracted pause. "I'm not...sure."
"Where are you?"
"The...desert."
"How did you get there?"
"I don't know!"
He could hear that she was ready to cry. "Hold on, I'll have your cell-phone signal traced, all right?"
"Okay," she whispered.
He quickly dialed Marshall on his other phone and explained the situation. Marshall gave him instructions and began the trace. Then, he returned his attention to Sydney. "I'll be there to pick you up shortly. Just stay on the line."
It was a forty-five minute drive to the middle of nowhere, before Jack saw Sydney walking along the side of the road. She was wearing only sandals, cutoff jeans, and the top of a black bikini swimsuit. Her hair was loose, blowing in her face. She was hugging herself, shivering almost uncontrollably. She looked up when she saw him, trudged towards the car and climbed inside. He pulled a blanket from the backseat for her.
"Sydney, what happened to you?"
"I don't--remember," she admitted. Her eyes were wide and full of tears. "I just want to go home."
He stared at her, not shifting the car back into drive. "Sydney. Where's the baby?"
Sydney stared at him. "I woke up and he wasn't...he wasn't with me."
"Woke up? You were laying out there in the desert?" Jack questioned.
"No, I...I wasn't laying down. I was just...walking and suddenly realized I didn't know where I was, or why I was there or...." She stopped talking and just stared at her shaking hand.
Jack reached out and held her hand steady. "What else do you remember?"
A familiar haunted look passed over his daughter's brown eyes.
"I remember...being terrified."
"Of what?"
"No, there was nothing there...today." Her face contorted as she tried to concentrate. "I remembered being terrified...before."
He drew his hand away slowly, looking disappointed. "You had another flashback."
Sydney's lip quivered. "I think so."
Jack frowned at her. "Haven't you been taking your medications?"
"I've been sleeping okay. The dreams have barely been...."
The hard stare he was giving her forced her to swallow instead of finishing.
Sydney ran her hand through her hair, uncertainly. She blinked as if her current surroundings had just registered and turned to her father. "We have to find him."
"We will," he said, flatly. He shifted the car into gear and turned to head back to the city.
He got her back to the house and settled. Then, he called Weiss, who arrived less than half an hour later.
Weiss tapped on the door lightly, uncertainly. Jack opened the door with a heavy sigh.
"I came as quickly as I could," Weiss said. "Where is she?"
"On the couch," Jack answered softly.
Weiss looked over. She was curled up tightly, possibly asleep. He kept his voice low. "Look, no one seems to know anything except that she went to the beach today. Her car was still there, with all the stuff she'd brought with her today still packed inside. Including stuff for the baby. He at least was there with her. But no one's seen them since. I even checked the apartment in case my some miracle he was there alone, but it was empty."
Jack's eyes lowered.
Weiss frowned. "You don't think she had a flashback and just wandered away from him?"
Jack gave Weiss a hard stare.
Weiss didn't even want to consider the possibilities. He didn't want to picture that cute kid alone in the dark somewhere. Or being snatched. Or playing in the ocean without any supervision. Or...
"We have to ask her more about what she remembers!" Weiss exclaimed.
Jack shook his head. "She doesn't remember. I questioned her nearly the entire ride home. She remembers going to beach. She remembers playing in the water with him. She remembers them starting to build a sand castle together."
"And after that?"
"She gets that look in her eyes. She starts to cry and shake. She can't complete a sentence." Jack sighed. "I attempted to make her tell me what she was seeing and feeling. She just stopped talking completely."
Weiss looked over. "We have to take her to a doctor. Someone who can help her relive whatever happened so it doesn't bother her so much."
"She refuses."
"Then, we make her go, Jack." He knew he sounded heartless suggesting it, but this was serious.
Jack shot him a glare. "That isn't going to help her trust us again."
Weiss frowned back at him. "Who are you more worried about? Her or the kid? If we don't force something out of her, then who knows what is going to happen to him?"
Jack sighed. "Every time I let myself believe she's doing better..." His voice trailed off as there were was movement on the couch.
Sydney sat up and looked at the two of them. They looked back at her. She got up from the couch slowly. Jack moved towards her. "Sydney?"
She looked around her father's living room and then directly into his concerned eyes. "I don't need anything. I'm just going to use the bathroom." She glanced at Weiss uncomfortably, then carefully walked to the bathroom. Weiss and Jack were silent until she closed the door.
"So, should I be looking for therapist numbers?" Weiss questioned.
Jack hesitated but finally nodded. "Go ahead."
Weiss stepped into the kitchen to call back to the office and get a good recommendation. He was midway through his third phone call when he heard Jack shouting urgently. "Sydney! Sydney!" Weiss walked back into the living room, in time to see Jack kicking in his own bathroom door.
Jack peeked into the room. When he returned, his face was more serious than usual. "She's gone."
Weiss swallowed, then quickly made a phone call to get a search team out.
When he looked up, he found that Jack remained in the exact spot he'd left him. The father was staring at him with a pain in his eyes. He looked lost.
"Jack?" Weiss asked, carefully.
Jack didn't even blink. "I thought this was going to stop happening. She was going to get better and she'd be normal again. It was a foolish thought, I know. But I don't think I realized before tonight, just how foolish."
Weiss swallowed. "Jack, she's going to be all right."
Jack's face tightened. "If anything, she's worse." His voice was losing its calm. "She is not making a recovery. I fear that it's only a matter of time before..."
"Before she goes insane?" Weiss shook his head. "Sydney is resilient. I've seen her handle more than I've ever seen anyone handle. She just needs more time to deal with it."
"She's in pain. A pain she either refuses or is incapable of sharing or letting go of. It's eating her up..."
Weiss stared a Jack. He just wanted to be able to protect his daughter and Sydney had given him so few opportunities. He hadn't realized how helpless Jack Bristow was beginning to feel. Weiss looked towards the kicked in bathroom door. Sydney was the most important person in Jack's world to him and yet, she wouldn't trust him. She'd run away.
"We'll find her, Jack." I'll find her, he told himself.
"Almost three and half years ago, I had that same resolve. Despite the last year, I feel as though I never stopped searching."
Weiss sighed. He'd known this had to be wearing on the elder Bristow, but they were always so focused on Sydney. He was really at a loss as to what to say. He patted Jack's arm, just below the shoulder.
"When I come back, I'll have her with me. That's a promise." He hesitated, then headed out the door. He sat down in his car, started the engine and sat there a moment. Where to go? Where to begin his search? "All right, Mike. Help me," he whispered. He shifted the gears and pulled out of the driveway.
It was three hours later that he spotted her. He tried to approach her slowly. She was standing impossibly still on the empty pier, just staring at the water. Or perhaps staring at nothing. He stopped a few feet away, not wanting to startle her. "Sydney."
She didn't even look at him. Her voice came out low and calm. "If you're worried that I'm planning to jump, don't be."
He looked her over. She had to be freezing. He removed his suit coat and held it out to her. "What are you doing here? Why'd you run?"
She hesitated, then turned and took the coat slowly. She looked down as she put it on. "I'm sorry."
"No, I don't want an apology. I want you to stop carrying the weight of the entire world inside you, and pushing away everyone that tries to help you. Your father is upset--in a way I've never seen him before."
Sydney turned back towards the water, resting her arms on the railing. "Then, maybe he needs your company more than I do."
Weiss moved to stand just beside her. He leaned into the railing but turned his head to look at her. "He's worried. We both are. We just want to help you."
She straightened and wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't need any help right now. I just want to be alone."
"You don't need any help..." he repeated in disbelief. He shook his head. "So you're going to be like this again."
She gave him a defiant look and walked towards the rail on the opposite side.
He turned towards her but only followed her a couple of steps. "I know you remember that night, the day of Mike's funeral. I was the last one at your house." Her shoulders hunched. "You started to cry for...what must have been the fifth time that day, and you couldn't stop." She turned around and looked at him, her eyes glistening. "You let me...hold you. And that day, I just knew that I should take care of you. That that would be what he would have wanted." Weiss sighed and moved to stand just in front of her. "And then you just disappeared."
Sydney tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shifted. She gave him an apologetic look. "Eric, I never meant to--"
"I know," he interjected. "You just needed to find some closure. But you went off all by yourself--" He sighed and cut himself off. "It just pains me to know the price you paid for that closure. We can't help but want to protect you, because we don't want to go through that again. We don't want to lose you, like..."
Sydney blinked and a blank expression formed on her face. She looked sideways a moment, and then looked him in the eye fiercely. "They tortured him."
Weiss frowned. "What?"
She swallowed and raised her head. "Vaughn. Before they killed him." She raised an eyebrow at him, pointedly. "But you knew that, didn't you?"
He knew his face was flushing guiltily. "Syd--"
"I know." She stepped closer. "You were protecting me." She emphasized the word as if it were something horrific.
He nodded slowly. "You weren't eating. You weren't sleeping. You were barely leaving your apartment It just seemed like it would make you worse."
Sydney stared at him coldly. "You want to know how I found out?"
He was silent. She was going to tell him whether he wanted to know or not.
She tucked her hands further in the folds of her arms and looked down. "They recorded the entire thing." She looked up at him again. "They thought it might be," she blinked, struggling for the word, "helpful for me to watch it."
"Oh Syd..." He reached for her but she moved back.
"Your idea of helping, simply left the door open for me to truly get hurt. Just like Vaughn's investigation. I thank you for your concern. And I'm sorry my father is so worried. But I can't have you all trying to take care of me right now. It's very important that I do this on my own. That's why I ran." She turned away. "I'd appreciate it, if you'd just leave now. I don't need your help."
He stared at her, not liking being pushed aside. "Not even to get your baby back."
Sydney shrugged. "Maybe I don't deserve to get him back."
Weiss's eyes widened. For the level of attachment, he'd witnessed, there was no reason for her to be so unconcerned. Unless..."You know where he is, don't you?"
Sydney shook her head. "No, I don't."
"But you aren't even going to look for him?"
"I know I can't find him." Sydney turned and started away from the pier.
Weiss followed. "Sydney, you aren't making any sense. How can you be so calm about this?"
Sydney halted and looked down. "I know looking for him is not what I need to do right now." She looked him, pain in her eyes. "Please. I can't answer any of your questions. Tonight, I just need to go home and get some sleep. And tomorrow, tomorrow you can take me to a hospital. Run any test. Do any evaluation."
Weiss debated. "What are we going to tell your father? Or anyone who asks about the baby?"
Sydney stared at him, expectantly. "You can tell them anything you want."
"I'm not going to get an explanation out of you tonight, am I?"
Sydney's expression didn't change.
"Fine. Fine. But if I take you home tonight, I'm sleeping on your couch."
Sydney nodded. "Deal."
14 Hours Earlier
She wore a white sunhat, large sunglasses, cutoff shorts with a black bikini top. She knelt in the sand, carefully tapping a plastic mold to make the third tower of a sand castle. She set it aside, and the boy quickly dove his small yellow shovel into the sand to fill up the empty tower mold.
He moved in slowly, walking barefoot on the wet sand that was still kissed by the waves when the tide hit the shore. It seemed a crime to ruin their perfect moment. He was tempted to circle, just watching them for a minute, but then she looked up. Maybe she'd seen his shadow. She pushed her sunglasses out of her face and stared directly at him. Then, she gave a wary glance around the rest of the beach. She sat back on her towel and waited as he approached her.
"What are you doing here? Our next meeting isn't for two weeks," she reminded him. She read the serious look on his face. She looked at the boy and then back at him. "What's wrong?" She almost looked innocent.
The child looked up immediately. "Daddy!" He stood up and clung to his father's leg. Sark ruffled the boy's hair and urged him to continue his castle. The child hesitated, then obeyed.
Sark gave Sydney a serious look. "I wanted to talk to you. When we made this arrangement, you agreed to be honest with me."
She pulled took off her sunhat and set it beside her. Her jaw tightened and she raised a single eyebrow. "Are you suggesting that I'm not?"
He removed the folder he'd had rolled in the back pocket of his jeans. "I told you, I'd be keeping an eye out." He held it out to her.
She snatched it from him. "You have something you want to know, then ask me," she said seriously. "You don't have to go around stealing my medical records."
"You told me you were fine. You didn't even mention this."
"It's because I am fine. This was one incident," she snapped, defensively.
"Sydney, this happened in a public place. You draw attention to yourself, you draw attention to him." He nodded to the child still scooping sand into the plastic mold. "That's something that cannot happen."
Sydney lowered her eyes. "I know."
"And while you were off in your own little world, anything could happened."
"I know. I know. It wasn't safe for him."
Sark knelt down in front of her. "It wasn't safe for you either."
She placed her sunglasses back on and shifted uncomfortably. "How did you even find out about this?"
Sark actually seemed to hesitate momentarily.
"Spying on me?" she questioned.
"Your father told me."
Sydney's eyes widened. "When did you speak to my father? And why? I thought we had both agreed that we weren't dragging anyone else into--"
"It was not my choice. He sought me out."
Sydney ran her hand across her forehead. "How did he even know to do that?"
"He apparently decided to investigate his own suspicions." Sark watched the child as he spoke. "We do share a resemblance."
Sydney smiled nervously. "There's something else you came here for."
Sark moved silently and scooped up the child, who giggled. "I'm taking him for the weekend."
Sydney narrowed her eyes at him. "You're what?"
"Sydney, you need the break to take some time to care for yourself."
Sydney stood up. "What are you talking about? Did my father ask you to do this?"
"No. He did express concern that you were not focusing on your own health because you were focused on him. But I reached my decision about this weekend on my own."
Sydney swallowed. "Does it have to be this weekend?"
"This is the weekend I've arranged," Sark responded.
"This really isn't necessary," Sydney protested. "I can relax when he's around."
"Sydney--"
Sydney hesitated. "At least let me take him home, pack some of his things to take with you. You can pick him up later tonight."
Sark looked at the child, and brushed some of the sand off of him. "We'll be fine. Get some rest this weekend, I'm serious. We'll be back on Monday."
She looked almost panicked. For a moment, he wondered if she might try to snatch the baby from his arms, but she sunk back into a sitting a position. "Monday," she whispered, as if unsure her purpose in life until then was going to be.
"He'll be okay, Sydney," he said softly.
Sydney flinched as if the words only stung.
He decided it would be better not to draw this out any further. He turned and walked away. As he was heading back up the bluffs, he looked back. She was no longer sitting there. He frowned slightly.
The boy squinted back as if he was looking too. "Mama?" he questioned.
Sark stared at the boy. "You'll see her soon."
Two Weeks Earlier
Jack Bristow kept his hands in the pocket of his trench coat and his face void of expression as he approached the private plane. The lights of the interior cabin were on. The runaway was wet from rain and a chilly breeze swept across the open area. It was nearing two a.m.
"Freeze!" came shouts from three directions.
He halted, and cast glares in the direction of three male guards as they surrounded him, all aiming weapons at his head. "I am here to speak to Mr. Sark."
The lead guard stared at him. "Who are you?"
"Jack Bristow," he answered, not even hiding his annoyance.
The lead guard nodded to the man on his left, who entered the plane. He returned only moments later and nodded back to the lead guard. The lead guard then moved forward and checked Jack over for a weapon. Finding none, he nodded. "Go in."
Jack moved to the interior of the plane. Sark sat just inside. He put aside a laptop computer and regarded his visitor with a nod. "Jack Bristow. It has been a while."
A while. That was one way to put it. They hadn't spoken in three years. And it had been at the long abandoned Credit Dauphine building that had formerly held the primary operations center for SD-6. Jack had heard the young agent was now in charge of his own organization, though the CIA had been unable to figure out their exact purpose.
"Please, have a seat." Sark gestured to the chair across from him. "How did you come to locate me?"
Jack advanced down the aisle to the seat indicated, but he didn't sit. "I have my ways." His face wore its usual stoic expression, but there was a definitely displeased look in his brown eyes. "I felt it was time we had a discussion of regarding your business with my daughter."
"Our business?" Sark smirked. "Perhaps you mean, my son?"
Jack's face tightened. "I've had my suspicions since Sydney's return that the child was yours."
Sark looked him in the eye. "And you are less than pleased to be correct."
"I am less than pleased that you are responsible for making an already stressful situation, even more difficult for Sydney." As Jack finished, his voice started to lose some of his normal calm. "She has to rebuild her life, all the while keeping your little secret. Which means she has to lie to her friends, her family, and her government, or risk charges for hiding a wanted fugitive."
Sark arched an eyebrow. "I did not force these visits upon her. We came to an agreement."
"Sydney's insistence on even more privacy began four months ago. I'm going to assume you reached your agreement then."
Sark said nothing.
Jack eyed him carefully. "I am also going to assume that--whether by being told or your own investigations--you know what she's been through. And that the two of you were not on the best of terms when she first returned to L.A." Jack paused. "What I do not know is exactly how you intend to proceed."
"Why don't you ask Sydney?" Sark gave him a crooked smile.
Jack shifted uncomfortably.
Sark's face mutated into a satisfied smirk. "She doesn't know you're here, does she?"
Jack's eyes diverted momentarily, before returning to an unrelenting gaze. "Sydney has been reluctant to go into details about anything regarding the years she was gone. She hasn't even mentioned your name. It is doubtful she would answer any questions regarding you."
"Ah, it's nothing personal, Jack. I'm sure she has her reasons."
Jack looked down at him. "You intend to continue this way? A visit here or there while Sydney shoulders the majority of the responsibility for this child."
Sark stood. "Not that it's any of your business, but I made her an offer to take him. She was insistent that they remain together. I've made sure he is no burden to her financially."
"What about mentally and emotionally? Or does your concern only extend as far as the child?" Jack looked doubtful that concern was even the proper word. "Have you considered that since she has to spend so much of her time caring for him that it might be hindering her recovery, and perhaps to the point of placing your son in danger?"
Sark looked mildly indignant. "My concern extends to both of them. Sydney takes excellent care of him. That I do not question."
Jack's head tilted. He reached into his inner coat pocket and removed a folder. He extended it in Sark's direction.
Sark took it carefully, but didn't open it immediately.
Jack stared at him. "She's my daughter, taking care of her is my first priority. As you are a father now, I'm sure that is something you can appreciate."
Sark flipped open the folder. He frowned, confusion and surprise flickered in his eyes briefly.
"If you are truly concerned for both of them, you will not ignore that information." Jack turned to leave.
"Jack," he said evenly. He stared at the folder again as he waited for the agent to turn and look at him, then looked up. "I regrettably missed the beginning of my son's life, of his entrance into this world. While the current arrangement is not ideal, it is what I feel to be best for all involved in our present circumstances. But I am not above admitting, I would like to have even more of an opportunity to spend with him, if only to help out in situations such as these." He held up the folder.
Jack stared at him, silently.
Sark took a step forward. "I only wished to say that I do appreciate this. And I would not be opposed if you were ever inclined to share information regarding Sydney and my son again."
Jack nodded ever so slightly. Then, he silently exited the plane.
____
Reviews welcome and appreciated. And if you're just flat out confused, I'd like to know that too.
Review Replies:
Lighteningbug: Thanks so much. I work at a daycare mainly with kids 2 and under so I just based the boy in this story on the kids at work. I'm glad he comes across so well. Your thoughts and questions are all so detailed, I love your review.
Landi104, Grace & Lisa: Thanks for your reviews.
PentagonMerlin: Yes, everyone tells me this fic is more than a little confusing. But I hope you stick with it. I promise explanations come eventually.
Kristal: Thanks for telling me about the anonymous review situation. I'm new to posting fanfic here, and had no idea that there was any such feature on anonymous reviews or how it worked. Anyway, I am now accepting anonymous reviews. :)
JenL: It was a learning experience for me to learn exactly how to write backwards like this. I was lost at first as to how there'd be flow and continuity going backwards. But now I love the suspense I've been able to make even though we go further and further back in time.
Thanks again for the reviews everyone.:)
