'I'm sorry that our session today has to be cut short but I've been called to a meeting…' Dr. Barnett was sending Sydney a calming smile when she closed the door behind them, adding, '…so we'll have to settle for a quick talk and then reschedule. If that's okay with you.' Their eyes met briefly before Sydney sat down on a stylish beige couch, replying,

'Sure, that's fine,' watching Barnett walk towards her, on the way picking up a small notebook and a pen, hereafter sitting down in a chair in front of her. The doctor's blue eyes were constantly seeking eye contact and every time she got it, she somehow succeeded in reassuring her patient, without words convincing her that every feeling or thought that might go through her head was okay, that she could speak freely because within these four walls no one would be judging her – all she would receive was help.

Barnett knew better than anyone how much support and understanding women in Sydney's situation needed, especially those who had undergone mental torture in connection with the rape – just as the young woman sitting in front of her had. The fact that she had known her assailant, already despising him before the attack, made a huge difference – it gave the attacker an opportunity to verbally abuse his victim, misuse the knowledge he had of her personal life to get to her mentally and emotionally, in that way turning the rape in to much more than just an act of violence.

Studying Sydney closely Barnett tried figuring out what her state of mind was at that moment – watching the way her patients looked, their mimic, gestures and posture gave her a pretty good idea of how well they responded to the therapy, of how well they where progressing, because she knew their body language didn't lie. People, however, did. Remembering their first session Dr. Barnett was convinced that Sydney had improved tremendously. Just a few weeks ago she had been a wreck, at first almost constantly in tears, but not many sessions later she changed her behavior pattern completely suddenly coming across as incredibly emotionally restrained. She wasn't able to talk about anything in her personal life and she was constantly ashamed, scared and guilty, fearing that she would lose her boyfriend, her job and herself. Now, Barnett concluded, Sydney was beginning to find herself. There was a special glow about her today, the way she walked, the way she held her head, and especially the look in her eyes, all indicating that she had had some kind of breakthrough since their last meeting – for the first time in 3 weeks she actually looked happy.

'So, how are you doing today?' The rather casual question was delivered with such warmth and compassion that Sydney instantly relaxed, with almost no consideration answering,

'I actually feel great…' Not being able to stop herself from smiling she paused, quickly considering whether or not to tell Barnett what had happened only a few hours before, then, as she recalled the incident, feeling a rush of unrestrained happiness fill her, making her exclaim,

'This morning I was standing in the kitchen preparing breakfast as Michael came into the room, and when I saw him I…' her eyes were sparkling, '…I felt this intense love for him! Like I used to! And without any restrictions or concerns I found myself walking up to him just putting my arms around his neck…' Anticipating that her voice was going to break she cleared her throat, briefly pausing until she was sure that no tears were going to announce their presence. She was just so happy. Ever since the assault she had wanted to be able to enjoy Vaughn's touch, to feel his arms around her without them evoking some terrible memory inside her, and suddenly her wish had come true – her body was no longer deceiving her. Knowing that Barnett was patiently waiting for her to continue she looked up, once again smiling, while she said,

'When I realized that I was able to hug Michael without being reminded of Sark I was so relieved! Instead of feeling awkward I felt so safe and loved and I was just so grateful…' she looked down, the expression on her face changing as she added,

'…because that meant that I could touch him now and that's a start at least…' Her last comment had been said with a hint of sadness, because she knew that being able to hug and touch her boyfriend didn't sound like much of an accomplishment, and deep down she still doubted if she would never be able to enjoy kissing and making love to Vaughn again. Somehow that still seemed wrong.

'I'm very happy for you Agent Bristow, that just shows how well you're improving,' Dr. Barnett said, and while she quickly wrote something down, she added, 'and even though a hug might not seem like much…' she looked up with a knowing smile, '…I'm sure the rest will follow!'

Seeing Sydney respond with a subtle but yet noticeable bewilderment, Barnett knew that her prediction had been accurate – as so many other rape victims Sydney couldn't picture herself in any sexually charged situation yet, because it was tremendously difficult for her to connect any type of physical passion with an act that had caused her so much pain and degradation. It was hard for a lot of women to stop equating sex with violence and powerlessness but in this case Barnett was almost positive that Sydney soon would be able to enjoy sex again. After all, she did have the most powerful tool at hand – a loving, compassionate, respectful boyfriend.

Sydney's puzzled expression had turned into a look of relief when Barnett asked,

'Now when we're speaking about Agent Vaughn…' she tilted her head, '… how would you say he has responded to all of this?'

Even though having expected a question like that Sydney couldn't really decide how to answer. She loved Vaughn and he had treated her with nothing but care and respect, but there were still some things she wished he would handle differently, and she needed to think her answer through carefully so Barnett wouldn't misunderstand what she was trying to say. Her intension wasn't to put Vaughn on the spot, but she had to be truthful, and therefore she answered,

'He has been very sweet and loving, making sure that nothing he did would trigger any unpleasant feelings in me, and at the same time he has been trying to be as comforting as possible but…' frowning slightly she reconsidered how to explain her problem, after a short while continuing,

'…sometimes he is just too gentle, pampering me like I'm unable to do anything myself, protecting me to such a degree that it's making me crazy! And I've told him that I can take care of myself, that he doesn't have to watch over me all the time, but he doesn't seem to listen… he worries all the time…' she felt herself getting agitated, '…we even had a fight a couple of days ago about him not wanting me to go on missions yet! Like that's not a decision I can make on my own!'

Realizing how worked-up she had gotten over what seemed to be a minor detail, she felt a little embarrassed, still not being used to revealing some of her inner most feelings to someone who had barely been more than a stranger just a few weeks before. She needed a close personal bond with someone before she usually was able to share her feelings with them and it seemed odd just blurring things like these out. Barnett quickly picked up on Sydney's uneasiness, asking her another question to remind her of something she had been told so many times before,

'You have every right to feel the way you do, and I'm sure your feelings are justifiable…' she looked her straight in the eyes, as if wanting to underline what she had just said, '…but I can ensure you that Agent Vaughn's reaction is completely normal – a lot of men in his position feel this way, because they're afraid that something just as terrible might happen once more, threatening to ruin both their own and their loved one's life.' She leaned forward, adding,

'What you need to do is tell him that his overprotective behavior is hindering you from regaining the control Sark took from you during the assault – it'll be much harder for you to get better if Agent Vaughn, through his actions, are implying that you aren't capable of being in charge of your own life…' seeing the distress on Sydney's face Barnett quickly said, '…if you do that I'm convinced that he'll be able to understand you better and therefore his behavior will change.'

'She makes it sound so simple', Sydney thought, letting Barnett's advice sink in, hereafter nodding, saying,

'I'll try that but I…' she looked away, a hint of bitterness crossing her face while she exclaimed, '…I'm just having trouble admitting that Sark actually did take away my self-control! I don't want that to be true, because that means I have given him the opportunity to have an influence on my life and that's devastating to me, so…'

'…so you want to prove to the world that he didn't do anything to make you lose control – that you're still the same strong, independent, self-reliant spy you were before the attack…and what better way to do that than to go on missions again,' Dr. Barnett said, finishing Sydney's sentence after she herself had stopped talking.

There was no response to Barnett's conclusion – somehow Sydney couldn't really decide if the doctor was right, if she only insisted on going on mission so soon because it was the perfect way to stop Vaughn from pitying her or if she really was ready to go back to work. She couldn't figure herself out.

Not really having expected an answer Dr. Barnett asked,

'Try imagining that you did go on a mission very soon and…' she lifted her eyebrows, '…that you somehow met Sark! You are standing there face to face with the man who is guilty of making your life so much more complicated…' she put her elbows on her knees, leaning forward, this way implying the importance of her next question, '…how would that make you feel?'

The mere idea of being close to Sark again made a chill run down Sydney's spine and, without intending to, she made it obvious to Barnett that the question had upset her – the earlier so noticeable confidence had left her, the glow in her eyes being replaced by insecurity and anger, when she considered how she would handle such a situation. Her first thought was to get back at the son of a bitch, to hurt and torture him, killing him even crossed her mind, but she didn't want anyone to know that she had those feelings – telling Barnett would probably result in her being taken off field duty – so instead of being truthful, she said,

'I would concentrate on doing my best to capture him…'

'That's not what I asked…' almost having interrupted Sydney immediately Barnett continued, '…I'm not interested in what you would do, Agent Bristow, I want to know how such an experience would make you feel!' Having made her comment with a tone underlining the authority of her expertise she had purposely sounded a little harsh, wanting to remind Sydney how important it was to focus on feelings instead of rationalized thoughts.

Feeling edgy and a little irritable Sydney snapped,

'How do you think I would feel! The bastard raped me, making me fear for my life, so don't you think I would be angry! Pissed! Vindictive!' She was hurling out words and Barnett was just looking at her, pleased that Sydney finally was able to express her true feelings regarding Sark – a subject she had been so good at getting around during their previous sessions.

Immediately regretting her outburst Sydney covered her face with her hands, nervous about Barnett's reaction and deeply wishing that she could take it all back. She knew that Barnett had the power to exclude her from all CIA missions if there were any doubts about whether or not she would put her own feelings before the interest of the agency, and she desperately wanted to part of the team whose job it was to capture both Sloane, Sark and her mother. With an intension to correct her statement she therefore looked at the doctor, but before she got the chance to speak, Barnett said,

'I can only imaging how tempting it must be for you to try and seek vengeance when you know that that is the only way Sark will ever be punished for what he has done to you, but I strongly advice against that Agent Bristow…' there was something about the way she had said the word strongly that indicated some kind of double meaning to Barnett's statement, and the doctor's eyes became only more ambiguous as she continued,

'…that said, I want you to know that because you have come to see me as a private person, not as a CIA-employee, I'm not obliged to inform the agency about whether or not I believe you are fit to serve as a field-agent…' she stared at her…'I'm only bound by law to do that if I suspect you pose a serious threat to Sark when coming in contact with him…' she nodded affirmatively, '…and I'm correct if I say that you wouldn't be a threat. Right?'

Never breaking eye contact Sydney struggled to figure out what the doctor was trying to tell her. It didn't make sense – she had just admitted to be a ticking bomb waiting to go off, full of hatred, anger and bitterness, so how could Dr. Barnett say that it was safe for the agency to let her stay field ready! How could she vouch for that as a psychologist? Slightly frowning, indirectly letting Barnett know that she wasn't quite following, Sydney replied,

'No matter the circumstances the interest of the agency will always be my first priority – I can ensure you of that…'

'Clever answer,' Barnett thought, quietly crossing her legs, while writing a few words down in her notebook. She was convinced that Sydney had noticed the ambiguity of the question asked, but at the same time it was clear that the statement she had tried to make non-verbally had to be clarified to be fully understood. The problem just was that the message she tried getting across to her client wasn't something that could be discussed openly. If Barnett ever spoke her mind on this subject during one of her sessions, and it somehow became publicly know, she was at the risk of losing her job – and her license. With that in mind she pushed some hair away from her face, thinking her next move through before asking,

'Wouldn't you say that it is in the agency's best interest to have an agent who is mentally stabile before attempting to begin…'

'Which I am!' Sydney interrupted, only sparking a quick reaction from Barnett,

'See, I don't think you are! I believe you are very angry and bitter and that those feelings will cloud your judgment! And that is why you do have to take revenge…' looking serious, her eyes locking on Sydney's, Barnett suddenly put on an affected smile, continuing, '…in a non-literal way of course!'

'Yes of course,' Sydney said with stunned surprise as her defensiveness left her completely. Was she hearing this right! Did Barnett actually encourage her to get back at Sark!

Seeing the inquiring expression on Sydney's face, Barnett spontaneously smiled, nodding her head a few times, when feeling convinced that her implications had been understood. She knew her intensions were morally despicable but in this case she didn't care – it was essential for rape-victims to somehow find closure, to feel safe and in control again, and those feelings often occurred in them when their assailant was brought to justice. Sark would never be punished for what he had done, meaning that Sydney wouldn't get the chance to experience how the balance of power between them could change, how she suddenly would be the one in control, stripping Sark of every thread of power he once had had over her. But if Sydney did take the law into her own hands, it would be her chance to regain control, making it easier for her to return to the life she had before the attack, to live every day without a feeling of fear, insecurity and guilt. And that was something Barnett wanted that so badly for this young woman in particular, because she knew that Sydney had been through enough as it was, and even though she might not be able to vouch for her actions on a professional basis she most definitely could on a personal one – as a woman, Barnett wanted Sydney to get her revenge more than anything.

Knowing that she had to finish what she had started, Barnett said,

'There is one method through which you might be able to get your 'revenge' – if you would let me, I could hypnotize you, in that way make you go back to the day of the assault, put you face to face with Sark once again, but this time we alter the events so that you win! That would possibly help you regain control over your life, but naturally…' the look of ambiguity reappeared in her eyes, '…nothing is certain.' With a glance at her watch she added,

'But that is something we'll have to discuss next time, because I have to get going – I don't want that meeting starting without me.'

With a subtle sigh of relief Sydney got up, feeling ready to leave right away but knowing that Barnett wouldn't let her go before they had rescheduled. She knew it was for the best but after every session she always dreaded the next one, because they were so emotionally hard on her – this one having been no exception. Barnett's implications had been hard for her to grasp but at this point she was almost certain that she had in fact understood them correctly – for some reason Barnett had made it clear that even though she was expecting a serious clash between the two of them if they met, she still wasn't going to report Sydney to the agency. She was just going to let it happen, and, as grateful as Sydney was, she just didn't get it. But she had decided that Barnett's motives didn't matter – as long as she wouldn't stop her from getting to Sark, her reasons wasn't important.

'How does the 18th at 8:30 sound?' Barnett asked as she was flipping through her calendar, searching for different open spots in the nearest future.

'Sounds fine' Sydney replied, smiling gratefully while adding, 'I'll see you then.'

'Take care,' Barnett said with a smile, watching the young woman as she moved towards the door, feeling proud when she saw her walking away with the same graceful dignity she had possessed before the assault. She was going to fine – Sydney was going to be all right.

- - - - -

Walking into the CIA's main office Sydney had a feeling that every eye in the room was resting on her. The paranoid idea of everyone talking about her, about the assault, wouldn't leave her, even though she knew that the chances of anyone knowing what had happened were minimal – neither she, Vaughn or Barnett had told anyone so how could they know? All they had been told was that she had taken a short personal leave of absence, the reason for which was kept a secret. So of course people were guessing, but no one could know. She told herself that every time she came into the room, and, as it used to, her uneasiness slowly subsided.

When she reached her desk a familiar voice made her look up,

'Hey', Vaughn said, when walking up behind her, remembering to announce his presence to avoid startling her.

'Heey', she replied, a sincere smile crossing her face as she felt his hand sliding over her loin, gently pressing her towards him in such a way, that it didn't make his act of affection to obvious to their fellow employees.

'How did it go today?' he asked, enjoying how Sydney was embracing his touch instead of rejecting it, making it almost impossible for him to keep his hands off of her. After the break-through she had had this morning he was feeling very optimistic – now he dared hoping that their relationship would turn back to normal, that they could go back to the life they had had before the attack, and he too felt happier today than he had since the night Sydney had told him her secret. Life was slowly getting better.

'It went well, Barnett let me know that she has decided to keep me field-ready', she said, and when seeing him look down she added, 'I know you don't think I'm ready but trust me, I really am…' she took his hand, '…so please let me make this decision on my own!'

Without looking up he nodded, knowing that he couldn't keep trying to control her life, but still wanting so badly to stop her from going on missions yet. It was too soon, he was convinced of that but he knew it ultimately was her decision and he didn't want to start a discussion. He therefore said,

'I will, but I'm not happy about it Syd…'

'I know you aren't', she replied, squeezing his hand as he looked up, the expression on his face reveling exactly how scared he was for her – if something else happened to her he would lose his mind… he was sure of it.

'By the way, Kendall asked me to tell you that we have a debriefing in half an hour regarding Sloane and your mother…' he let go of her hand, '…and I have a few things to take care of before that so I'll see you there okay?'

She nodded, and when he turned to leave she took a hold of her calendar, wanting to write down her appointment with Barnett so that it wouldn't slip her mind. Grabbing a pen off her desk she started flipping through the pages, naming the days in her head as they came along,

'10th , 11th, 12th, 13th , 14th, 15th…' suddenly stopping, her breath catching in her throat as she turned back a few pages, realizing that something was missing… 'No, it can't be', she whispered, frantically flipping through the pages once more to make sure that she hadn't just missed the small mark always situated in the corner of the 11th – but no, it wasn't there and as a wave of understanding flushed over her she took a firm hold on the desk, feeling like she was going to pass out. Taking a few deep breaths she tried to stay calm, reminding herself where she was, but it seemed impossible for her to suppress the panic rapidly spreading through her body – she was never late, never ever late, so it could only mean…and she and Vaughn hadn't…so it could only be… Just the thought of any part of Sark still being in her made her sick, and, as the rape started repeating itself in her head, her recollections of that day suddenly became very real – she could once again feel him, taste him, hear him, smell him – Oh God, that awful smell! His breath, sweat, semen, it was everywhere, on her, in her, and she couldn't get it off! She would never get it off!

'I have to get out,' she thought, feeling more and more nauseated, reproaching herself for not having seen this coming, for not having realized that it was a possibility, hell, for not even having noticed that she'd missed her period! But in the last few weeks she had been so occupied with getting past this devastating experience of hers, that she hadn't given it a thought – it hadn't even crossed her mind once…

A lone tear escaped from the corner of her eye as she started walking towards the door, just wanting to get away – she felt so helpless, not being able to understand why this was happening to her! Hadn't she been through enough!

Determent to leave the office as quickly, but unnoticeably, as possible she picked up her pace when the feeling of a hand on her shoulder made her spin around, the touch instantly sending a shudder of fear and disgust through her.

'Sydney, are you okay?'

Dixon's question was accompanied by a frown of concern, only intensifying when he saw the truly terrified look in Sydney's eyes, and he quickly added,

'What's wrong?'

Not knowing how to answer, how to explain her seemingly odd behavior, she merely shook her head, saying,

'I'm just…I…' then pausing, being at a total loss of words. What was she suppose to tell him? The truth! There was no where in hell she could do that but still she wanted to shout it at him, let him know that Sark had raped, degraded, and diminished her, perhaps even…gotten her pregnant. That she might be carrying that bastard's child…

'I…I've got to go…' she finally uttered, her tearful voice speaking more truly of her distress than her words, and she felt her eyes burning as she turned around, leaving Dixon in a few hasty strides. This whole thing was so unfair – for a little more than three week now she had been struggling with the repercussions from the rape, trying to conquer her fear, shame and guilt, to regain the feeling of safety she used to know with her boyfriend, and she was actually improving! She no longer woke up every night, bathed in sweat and crying her eyes out, because her cruel nightmares where so vivid that she felt like she'd been raped all over again. She no longer dreaded Vaughn's touch, because the therapy she'd went through had helped her regain the basic trust she had lost when Sark violated her so thoughtlessly. And, most important of all, she was now able to go several hours without thinking about Sark or the assault – her life was slowly getting better. Or so it had seemed. Now, as she was wiping away her tears, she felt like she was right back where she had started 3 weeks ago. Her life was a mess…again.

- - - - -

The day's debriefing had seemed to last forever and it had been impossible for Sydney to get her mind around anything but the problem she was facing. None of what Kendall had said had sounded important to her and for the first time in her life she was actually glad that they didn't have any leads on Sloane, because that meant that she could go home and find out if her biggest fear had come true – if the rape really had resulted in her being pregnant. At that time she just wanted to know but now, as she was standing in her bathroom staring at the home-pregnancy test lying on the sink, she most of all wanted to toss it through the room. No result was better than a positive one.

Moving towards the sink she picked up the small piece of plastic, her hands trembling as she walked to the toilet, thinking,

'Just pee on the stick…that's all I've got to do…' then sitting down, trying to relax. It didn't take long before a huge, but rather desperate, grin crossed her face and she exclaimed,

'Great, now I can't even pee!' Her free hand covering her mouth as the grin turned into a look of despair and hurt accompanied by a sob underlining her feeling of hopelessness. It had to be negative, she couldn't handle it otherwise… she didn't know what to do if it wasn't…

- - -

Having done what she had to do Sydney put the test back on the sink, setting the alarm on her cell phone so it would be ringing after 2 minutes, then sitting down on the side of the bathtub, impatiently glancing in the direction of the test every 5 seconds. She tried closing her eyes, to think about something else, something nice, but all she could get her mind around was how her life could be changed just a few minutes from now, how there might be a child growing inside her – Sark's child…but still also hers…

Letting a hand rest on her stomach she frowned, thinking about what to do if she actually was pregnant. She could only think of two options: to keep the baby or…to get an abortion. Looking down she considered her first option – could she keep a baby who wasn't Vaughn's? Would he be willing to raise a child who wasn't his but Sark's? And if he wasn't what would he do then? Leave her?

Touched by a hint of panic she got up and another thought instantly occurring to her: what about herself? Could she raise and love a child who had been bred in hatred and spite instead of love and affection! A baby who would remind her of what Sark had done to her every day for the rest of her life?

Feeling tears pressing once again she shook her head, mumbling,

'I can't do that…' realizing that that only left one option – abortion. But would she be able to do that? No matter who the father was this child was still a part of her! Her flesh and blood…

A sudden ringing made her freeze, her heart missing a beat as she turned to face the sink, determent to walk over there and get it over with.

'Please not a blue cross, please not a blue cross…' she pleaded while taking a few steps, quickly snatching the test off the sink without looking at it. Holding it in her clenched fist she sent a silent prayer to the heavens, hereafter slowly opening her hand…