A/N Just wanted to let everyone know that the next few chapters are big ones and will come quicker than in the past.

Review Replies:

Scox- Thank you for the correction, everythings fixed now.

Kathryn- Her boyfriends back? Who said he was her boyfriend? Lol Hope you like the next chappy.

Derevkobristow-spawn- sark and kat hmmmm well they're both in the next chapter if that's what you mean (insert evil laugh here)

Grouch- Hope this chapter clears it up for you, if not feel free to e-mail me if you have questions

Landi- Here is more now! Lol

Anna- here's a great Weiss/Katy scene for you

Eyghon- Well I hope this next chapter lives up to your expectations. Fasten your seatbelt you're in for a bumpy ride.

Agent Flamingo- Hope the next chapter clears up any questions, but if not just ask!

Redemption

Chapter Fifty Eight

"Julian."

She said his name with more defiance than anything else. She wasn't about to be brushed aside, ignored, or even lied to. So it was true. Seeing her like this explained unanswered questions; unanswered suspicions. Not just about finding her familiar due to her resemblance to Sydney, but about finding Sydney familiar years before she had ever met her younger sister. Sark couldn't take his eyes off her. She was crying. She seemed broken and confused. She was unsure of what to believe.

After Moscow he'd begun to dream. He didn't usually remember his dreams. Until recently that was. He remembered Shakespeare and bed bugs and the little girl who'd hung onto his every word and fell asleep in his arms. He'd suspected there was something more to them than just dreams. In the dreams, he never saw her face. He found an old photograph in a box, which contained a few meager belongings from when he was a child. The photograph was of him with a little girl who had long red hair. He wasn't even sure if the little girl from his dreams had ever existed, or if she was even the one in the photograph. Aside from the dreams, he had no memory of either so it was impossible to tell if she was fact or fiction.

When Sark had delivered Melnikov's prisoner back to him, he had hesitated. Her uncanny resemblance to Irina Derevko and Sydney Bristow and the fact that she was just a mere child had made him think twice about performing the act. But, not doing so would have elevated Melnikov's suspicions and there was no way he'd have been able to take her with him. He did the next best thing; delivered Katarina back to Melnikov and informed Irina of her location. On one hand he was surprised to learn Irina Derevko had another daughter, on the other hand he wasn't surprised at all; She was a woman of many secrets.

There was something about the girl that surprised him; it was fear or rather the lack of it. She wasn't afraid of him. In truth, despite her tears of confusion, she seemed almost happy to see him. Whether she meant it or not was another story.

She said his name again. This time it was muffled by a sob and he began to wonder if it indeed was a set up. Perhaps she knew all along and it was a trap. Perhaps any moment the CIA would swoop in and take him into custody, but her confusion seemed so real. Tears glistened on her cheeks and her dark eyes begged for acknowledgment, for any confirmation that he was who she believed him to be. He couldn't give that to her. He didn't have memories; only the dreams.

She stood before him, her dress torn, her arm outstretched, her fingers grasping at air. There was a mark on her cheekbone, a mark he'd caused. It wouldn't be long before her skin pigment would change and the bruise would appear. He'd caused that bruise. He had marred her beautiful face and strangely he wanted to take it back.

"Julian." Her voice was a tortured sob as she called his name. He took a step back and she ran to him throwing her arms around his neck. "Tell me what's going on," she begged whispering in his ear. "Please."

Awkwardly one arm came around her back hugging her slightly. His eyes closed and with the feel of her arms clinging to his body, he remembered. "Little Katia."

He pulled back and saw the confusion in her eyes. She didn't understand how she knew him, why she knew him, only that she did.

He took three steps back. He couldn't lose his focus. Not now.

"Julian, don't leave me."

She begged him to stay, to explain, but he couldn't. He didn't know the answers to the questions she sought. Sark turned and walked quickly down the corridor, leaving her standing alone and confused with the lipstick camera hidden in his pocket. He didn't look back. Looking back he would have seen her cry and he didn't want that.

"Weiss, find Bristow now," Kendall ordered.

"I'm on my way," Weiss pushed passed several maids and continued down the seemingly endless corridors.

"Weiss, Sark got away," Sydney took control of the headset. "According to the security feed Katy is fine, but she turned off her comlink."

"She did what?" Weiss stopped and braced a hand against the wall, trying to catch his breath. "Why the hell would she do that?"

"I don't know," she cried out in frustration or fear; perhaps a mixture of both. "Weiss, just find her."

"I'm on my way." He was about to start running again when he heard a door slam just up ahead. He drew his gun and soundlessly walked along the corridor his back pressed against the wall. He recognized the rear figure of Sark immediately and aimed his gun. "Freeze."

Sark spun around ready for a fight. He lunged at Weiss, quickly knocking the gun from his grasp. Weiss was a decent fighter and could hold his own, but Sark was quicker and younger than he was. Sark slammed Weiss' head against the wall and he collapsed to the floor. Weiss struggled to stand and regain his balance but his efforts were lost and Sark delivered a quick kick to his chest before taking off down another hallway. Weiss pulled himself to his knees and as he attempted to stand he spotted something lying on the floor a few feet away. Sark must have dropped it and not realized.

Going after Sark was useless, he was long gone now. Weiss stretched out his hand and grabbed the object, a photograph, before standing. He used the wall for support as he got to his feet. Turning the photograph over, he was shocked at what he saw. It took a few moments of just staring at the photograph before he slipped it in his pocket and continued in search of Kat.

When he found her she was staring straight ahead looking right at him, but she didn't see him. Her eyes were distant, focused on something beyond him. It took three attempts to capture her attention. "Are you alright? Did Sark hurt you?"

"No."

She seemed disoriented and confused and he wasn't so sure that Sark had let her be. What had happened to her in between the time he'd left the security van and now.

"I gave him the camera."

"Doesn't matter." Weiss cupped her chin and tilted her head up gently. "Are you sure you're all right 'Shiner?" he asked concern showing in his eyes. She nodded, but not convincingly enough for him.

"I just want to go home," she said softly and walked slowly down the hallway. Eventually he followed his hand in his pocket holding tight to the photograph.

In the privacy of his own office, Jack reviewed the security tape from the Hotel in Morocco on his laptop. The picture was black and white, grainy and without sound but there was no mistaking the events that had occurred.

His daughter embracing a cold, heartless killer of her own volition. Calling a name no one had heard before. Crying for him. Reaching for him. And severing the contact between herself and the CIA, leaving her team as only deaf observers.

"Dad?"

He looked up as Sydney entered his office.

"Weiss called. They're on their way home now. The plane just took off." She walked around the side of her father's desk and stood watching the video. It had been almost six hours since the event had taken place. "What do you think happened?" she asked softly.

"I don't know." Jack closed the lid of the computer and glanced out the doorway to Dixon who appeared to be in a heated debate of some kind with Kendall. "But I do know that we need answers quickly."

As if on cue Dixon knocked lightly on the glass door and entered Jack's office. "Jack, Sydney," he spoke gravely, his voice unusually low and quiet. "I need to speak with you both, immediately."

Weiss glanced at the bathroom door of the private plane as it shut quietly behind Kat. Since finding her in the corridor hours before, she'd barely said two words to him. They'd gone back to their hotel suite where she'd immediately gone to her room telling him she was tired. She hadn't slept, that he was sure of. On more than one occasion during those long six hours he'd stood outside her door one hand on the knob, hearing her cry and debating whether or not to go in. Each time, he'd turned away until the last time there was only silence and he woke her to tell her that they were leaving. They were going home. Now, they were five hours into their flight time and Kat had done everything possible to avoid him, even going into the cockpit and sitting with the pilots for several hours.

Weiss pulled out his laptop and opened the security footage Vaughn had sent him. He'd watched it easily a hundred times now, but each time felt like a knife stabbing him in the chest as he watched Kat stepped forwards and hug Sark.

Sark.

A cold, calculated assassin, would be the only word to describe the man who'd tried on several occasions to kill her own sister not to mention himself, Vaughn, Will and countless other CIA Agents. Kat knew about Sark. She knew what kind of a man he was. If he hadn't born witness to the after effects of Kat's meeting with Sark, to see the confusion in her eyes, he'd have thought her actions were a ploy. He'd have thought that she'd hugged him to detain him, to get the camera back, to allow time for Weiss to arrive with a tranq gun and take Sark out before he could harm anyone else. The truth was that her actions hadn't been a ploy. She'd had no ulterior motive or hidden agenda when she'd embraced the enemy. Everything that happened, had been done of her own free will and then she'd stepped back allowing Sark to get away. If one looked at the security footage closely enough, they would see Sark hugging her back if only of the slightest moment.

Weiss snapped the lid of his laptop shut and pushed the computer onto the side table angrily. None of it made sense. Why Sark? Why now? Sark was the representation of everything dark in the life they all led that they'd tried to keep from her. Now it didn't matter.

Weiss was hurt. Whether or not he wanted to admit it to himself didn't matter. He felt the pain in his chest when he thought about it, when he replayed the image of her hugging Sark in his mind. Kat used to talk to him about everything. He was the only one who held her confidences, knew her deepest secrets and her most treasured dreams. At the present moment, he felt he didn't know her at all. She wouldn't talk to him and he didn't know what to say. Every time he'd opened his mouth on the way to the airport, she'd looked away clearing stating her desire to be left alone. He knew she was trying to process everything that had happened, understand it herself before even attempting to explain it to anyone else, but he could have helped. He was her best friend, her confidante, and her partner. But now the distance between them had never been greater.

Weiss retrieved the photo from the inside pocket of his jacket. Sark had to know by now that it was missing. Weiss wondered if by having possession of this photograph, Kat's life might be in danger. In danger from who?

His eyes shifted to Kat as she exited the tiny washroom. In comparison to the night before when she'd looked several years older than her actual age, with her hair done up, the jewels, the make up and the black sequined dress. Now, wearing khakis and a t-shirt, her hair in french braided pigtails and her face scrubbed clean of any toxins she looked several years younger. Sometimes, he had to remind himself how old she really was. She always seemed older than her true age except for the times when she was younger. He relished in those times when she was truly the child she should have been.

She passed him with a hesitated glance and he caught her hand holding it tight. Her eyes traveled to his silently asking to be released, but he wasn't about to budge.

"We need to talk." Weiss patted the seat beside him and reluctantly she sat down curling her legs under body. "I know you don't want to, but we need to." He ventured a look over at her. Her eyes were red and swollen, matching the darkened bruise on her cheekbone and exhaustion was clearly written across her face. She hadn't slept much at all since the mission. Gently he lifted his arm and placed it around her shoulders allowing her to slip against his side. "Are you crying?" he asked softly a few moments later. Weiss felt her shake her head no but he knew she was lying. The sound of her shuddering breaths was all too familiar. He waited a few minutes until her breathing had regulated and she'd discretely wiped her eyes before he faced her. She kept her eyes cast down, not looking him in the eye.

"I know something's wrong. I know that you were scared and confused to act the way you did, but Kat, this is serious." He used his index finger to gently lift her chin so their eyes could meet. "You turned off your comlink so none of us could hear what you said to Sark or what he said to you, but the Op Center still had the video surveillance footage. They might not have been able to hear what went on, but they certainly could see what happened in that hallway. I've seen the footage." He thumbed away a tear from the corner of her eye before it had the chance to trickle down her cheek. "They'll want answers. They'll want to know what happened. I understand that you're scared; reluctant to talk. If Sark threatened you-"

"Julian would never hurt me, not ever." Her eyes were wide, almost angered at Weiss' suggestion.

"How do you know?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I just know he wouldn't." Kat let out a frustrated sigh and leaned her head back against the couch. "That's what makes this so confusing Eric. I don't know why, or even how, but I know. Somehow I just know that he would never hurt me. At least not intentionally."

"You call him Julian, but the CIA has no knowledge of his first name."

"I don't know," she shrugged. "As soon as I saw him, I just knew. And it's not exactly like he denied it either. It was like he was just as confused as I was." She was silent for several moments as they both contemplated her words and the possible implications of her actions. "What do you suppose will happen?"

"I don't know 'Shiner," he gave her hand a quick squeeze. "It's probable that they are suspicious of what happened. Possibly an investigation of your actions and a review of the events surrounding the mission. Don't be worried," he smiled reassuringly. "You haven't done anything wrong, it's not like you have anything to hide."

"I know."

"There's something I want to show you."

Kat watched curiously as Weiss retrieved the photograph from his pocket and held it face down on his lap. "At the hotel, I confronted Sark and we fought, but he got away. He didn't realize that he dropped this."

Kat turned his hands over to reveal the photograph. "That's me," she whispered in awe staring at the photograph. "My hair, it's different, but that's definitely me.

Weiss tilted her hands so he could see the image as well. Sark, around ten to twelve years of age, stood at the base of a large carpeted staircase holding Kat on his hip who was around four years old at the time. Her hair was red and she wore pink corduroy overalls and a white turtleneck. "I guess this confirms it then. You knew Sark."

Kat could tell he was concerned. The photograph could potentially have the power to cause more questions than there were answers for. "You won't tell anyone right?" she asked. "Not Mike, or Sydney, not anyone. At least until I can figure this out. How and when..."

"I won't," he agreed. "Unless I feel that your life is in any danger. If it is, I will tell, without your permission."

"I understand." She stared at the photograph once more memorizing every detail of it. Julian was standing at the base of the stairs; he couldn't have been more than ten or eleven with wavy blond hair and blue eyes. He hadn't changed a lot since that picture had been taken. He still looked the same; she on the other hand was an entirely different story. He was holding her on his hip and her legs were wrapped around his waist, with her arms around his neck and her head situated on his shoulder. There was nothing forced or posed about the picture. It seemed completely natural and both children were smiling.

As Weiss slipped the picture back into his pocket, he noticed that she was crying again. Silent tears slipped down her cheeks as she slid her body into the curve of his side. "Shiner," he patted his lap urging her over and she quickly followed. It always amazed him at how tiny and compact her body was; she could curl up and fit just perfectly in his lap.

"I'm just so confused," she whispered sighing as Weiss wrapped his arms around her and cradled her against his chest cocooning her in the feeling of security and warmth that only he could give. "It just seems like every time I think things are going okay, something happens and I don't know what's real anymore. I don't know what to believe..."

"We'll just take it one day at a time." Weiss kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back gently. "I promise you, it won't always be like this."

"I'm sorry if I find that hard to believe." Her voice was soft and wistful, her hand wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks as she spoke. They were both silent for several moments, the only movement was that of his hand on her back in slow steady circles.

"Eric, when you were little, was there ever a place that you felt the safest? No matter what was going on in your life, when you were there-you weren't afraid of anything. It was your sanctuary."

He didn't have to think before answering. "My treehouse," he said smiling. "It was the best place in the world, the safest. When my parents were fighting, before their divorce-my brother and I would always go there to get away."

Weiss was silent and Kat looked up at him. His eyes were closed and she reached up cupping his cheek forcing them to open. "They shouldn't have done it. Your parents, they shouldn't have put you and Paul in the middle like that."

He smiled slightly as her fingers slipped from his cheek and settled back into her lap. "When I was older, after Paul died, I spent a lot of time there."

Kat pulled his hand into her lap and traced the lines of his palm with her fingertip. "I don't remember a lot about the time I spent with my mother, but growing up in all those foster homes, I don't remember ever feeling safe. After I came to LA and I got to know Sydney, Will, Mike and my dad, I felt safe with them. I knew they would protect me as best they could from The Covenant and Papa, even from my mother. Do remember that night after you found me in Moscow when I ran away from my dad's apartment?"

"Of course," he nodded slightly as she looked up at him.

"When you asked me why I came to you, I said it was because when I thought of where I felt the safest, it was with you. That's the truth." Kat's hands pulled his arms tighter around her body. "When I'm with you, nothing can hurt me. You're my best friend, my safe place. Nothing can happen to me when you're here." She closed her eyes briefly as he kissed the top of her head. "With Julian, I can't really explain it. I don't fear him as others do. It's different with him--not the same as when I'm with you, but he's safe too." She let out a deep sigh and returned to drawing patterns on Weiss' palm. "How's Lisa?"

"She's good."

"Are you happy? Does she make you happy?"

Weiss studied Kat's profile for a minute. "You don't like Lisa do you?" he didn't receive a response. "I don't understand. Lisa's a wonderful person, I really thought you would like each other."

"It's not that I don't like her Eric, I'm sure she's very nice. It's just... she's been married twice already and I don't want her to hurt you," Kat said honestly.

"Don't worry, she's not going to hurt me."

"Why can't life just ever be simple?"

Weiss squeezed her tightly and kissed the top of her head. "I don't know little one. I guess you're a complicated girl." Kat laughed and elbowed him slightly. Weiss grabbed a blanket and spread it over her. "Why don't you get some rest before we land."

Kat adjusted her position slightly on his lap. "Are you worried?"

"'Shiner." Weiss tucked her head under his chin before continuing. "Just tell Dixon the truth. Tell him what you told me and everything will be okay, I promise you." He continued his motions on her back and quickly she drifted off to sleep.

As the plane taxied to a stop on the runway, he looked down at Kat who was still sleeping, her head now resting on his lap and her body lying curled up on the cream white sofa. Jack had called him an hour before and informed him that he would meet the plane at the airstrip and for Weiss and his daughter to remain on the plane.

Weiss adjusted the blanket around Kat's shoulder and listened to her steady breathing. She hadn't even stirred when the plane began its decent and landed. He looked up as Jack entered the plane.

"How is she?" Jack frowned looking down at his daughter.

Weiss shrugged and folded the edge of the blanket down. "Confused, a little scared. Mostly she's just tired. What's going on Jack?"

"The NSC is on a mole hunt," he explained briefly. "Over the past month operations have been compromised. The reconnaissance mission in Morocco was being monitored closely for that reason. The NSC is investigating Katarina's involvement-"

"That's absurd, she couldn't have had any involvement in leaking information-"

"Agent Weiss, ask yourself how her behavior has changed since she returned from Virginia." Jack's eyes flashed with anger. "Distant, quiet, fearful even. Her behavior alone provides the NSC with every reason to question her actions." Weiss opened his mouth to speak but Jack cut him off. "While I have no doubts regarding my daughter's innocence, not everyone feels the same. The operation in Morocco is only the icing on the cake. They don't have any concrete evidence of her wrong doing and while I know they won't find anything that won't stop them from being suspicious-"

"Dad?"

Jack forced a smile as Kat opened her eyes and sat up. "How are you sweetheart?"

"I'm fine. What are you doing here?"

"I need to speak with you about Morocco."

"You mean about Sark," Kat didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "I don't know very much," she said honestly. "Just that I knew him when I was little by the name of Julian. That's all I swear-"

"You're sure?"

"That's all I remember... except-"

"Except what? Katarina, you need to tell me what else you remember." Jack squatted in front of her feet so he was eye level with her.

"Just that when I was little, when I lived in Russia, he-Alexander Khasinau, used to dye my hair red. The Ammonia and rubber gloves remember I told you about that memory? I remember now, Khasinau or whoever dyed my hair, used to wear rubber gloves and they rubbed my head so hard it hurt-"Her eyes shifted to the open door as two security agents entered the plane. "What's going on?"

Jack stood turning to the door and Weiss and Kat followed suite. "Agents if you'll please excuse us, I need to speak to Agents Weiss and Bristow about information that exceeds your clearance level."

"I'm afraid I can't do that Agent Bristow," Agent Hennesey said firmly as he walked towards the three. "We're under orders not to leave you alone with your daughter."

"Could somebody please tell me what's going on?" Kat asked nervously crossing her arms over her chest.

Hennesey stood directly across from Kat and pulled out his handcuffs. He reached for Kat's hands and cuffed them behind her back ignoring her surprised protest. Her gun and credentials were quickly retrieved from her jacket pocket and handed to the other agent. As Hennesey took her elbow and led her out of the plane with both Jack and Weiss protesting the arrest he began to speak.

"Under orders from Director Branden of The National Security Counsel, Agent Katarina Bristow, you are being arrested and taken into custody under the Patriot Act under suspicion of treason against The United States Government."