Chapter 28, part 2.

The text came while she was driving, but she saw the name of the contact flash across the screen. Suddenly, her throat got all blocked, as if something obstructed the way—and no matter how much she tried to swallow, she could not get it out of there. It distracted her so much that she missed her turn and had to go around to finally find the right entrance to the building. She parked her car and reached out for the phone, and her hands shook. Fuck. She was behaving like a sissy. So what if Aaron was writing to her? She was secure in her decision, wasn't she?

I'm sorry, the text read. Can we please talk? I miss you.

Her hands shook even harder.

"It's your own fault," she said aloud—to convince herself. "You had to go and make it weird—I'm not responsible for this." It was over a month since their talk and she was not doing too well. Much as she'd like to pretend otherwise, she missed him, too. In the past, there had been much longer periods when she couldn't talk to him, but over the last year, she got used to having him on the other end of the phone whenever she felt like it. To go from talking almost every day to never was gut-wrenching. She missed her friend—but her friend didn't want to be just friends anymore. Did he think she had been putting him in a friend zone all this time? Was he only so kind to her because he was hoping for something more? She thought they were proof that men and women could be friends. Apparently, she was wrong…

There is nothing to talk about, she wrote back. Please leave me alone. There. No loose ends.

She put the phone in her back pocket as she got out of the car and tried to get him out of her mind. She had a job to do.

Crawford was already there, but it seemed like the mall was still pretty empty. It had only just opened, though, so she figured it wasn't weird. People would start flowing in a bit later—hopefully after her two-hour shift would be over.

"Ah! Alice, how good to see you! Thank you so much for doing this!" Forest exclaimed when he saw her. He was standing next to the desk that was decorated with a huge banner that read Colorado Springs Together Blood Drive. A young woman was sitting behind it already, wearing jeans and a The Clash t-shirt, her thick brown curls surrounding a thin, almost gaunt face with huge dark brown eyes peering out of it. She wasn't skinny like Alice, but it was close.

"Good morning, Forest, how are you?" Alice greeted him with a little sigh.

"Very well, very well—have you met Elena Ramos?"

"Hi." Alice extended her arm over the desk and shook the girl's hand. "I'm Alice Boyd. Nice to meet you."

"Ya, you too."

"Elena has been helping out with the drive already so she can fill you in on everything," Crawford said, patting Alice's shoulder lightly. "I need to go in check with the medical staff."

"Sure, thanks, Forest." Alice watched him disappear in the little indoor tent with a huge red cross on it and then went around the desk to join Elena. "So, what do we do here?"

The girl showed her the paperwork they had to get any volunteer to fill in and sign, as well as the information booklets—Alice noticed the familiar comic sans designs and smirked—that they were supposed to hand out to prospective donors.

"Though there's usually not much traffic this early in the day," she added matter-of-factly. "It can get a bit hectic in the afternoons, but we should have a quiet start."

"Good." Alice leaned back in the uncomfortable plastic chair. "So what do you prefer, should we talk or do I pull out my e-reader?"

Elena looked at her, a little surprised, it seemed. "You okay with us just chilling and not talking?"

Alice shrugged. "Sure. I'm not a particularly talkative person, to be quite honest. Unless there's something you want to talk about."

Elena shook her head. "Nope. Let's just chill, then."

"Great." Alice straightened up, pulled out the e-reader from her purse, and started reading. There was silence between them for a few minutes—during which only a few people passed them by—before Elena broke it.

"There's no fucking way you're reading that fast," she commented, her perfectly trimmed eyebrows up.

Alice smiled. "I assure you I am." She looked up at the young woman. "My brain is a bit weird that way."

"You're fucking with me. Nobody can read that fast."

Alice shrugged. "I can. My childhood shrink even timed me—I read around two thousand words per minute."

"You had a shrink?"

Alice nodded. "My parents took me to a professional when I was six because I was way ahead in my mental development. But I've gotten help from psychologists multiple times—after my dad died when I was fourteen, and then I've been going to see a therapist for about two years now. It's been very helpful."

"I have to see a shrink on the regular, too," Elena confessed. "He's a fucking joke, though. If I didn't have to, I'd never step foot in that office ever again."

"Yeah, not everyone is good at what they're doing," Alice agreed. "The only therapist in my base was a fucking sexist pig, but I'm lucky to have a great supervisor and she hired a new one after I raised a complaint, and that one is great. She's really helped me immensely."

Elena frowned. "Wait—did you say base?"

"Yeah, I'm in the Air Force." Alice shrugged again, as if that was not important.

"Really?" The girl's face seemed nervous and suddenly closed off.

"I mean, this is Colorado Springs—we've got three bases and the Academy here, so what were the odds?" Alice quipped lightly.

"Yeah, I guess…"

"Anyway, I don't know why you have to see a therapist, but if you're not seeing eye to eye with the one you have, what stops you from going to another one?" Alice pushed gently.

"I can't just go to whoever I like. It's a, uhm—a requirement," Elena replied uncertainly.

"A requirement of what?"

Elena looked away. "It just is, okay?"

"Okay, understood, none of my business." Alice raised her hands in the got-it gesture. "But that sounds like such a shame. It's not always easy to accept help—god knows I resisted for a long while—but if that help isn't even working, it's just a fucking shame."

Elena didn't reply right away because someone approached their desk to ask about the drive and they spent the next five minutes explaining the idea and purpose behind it, and directing the young man on how to fill in the forms.

"So you didn't go of your own will, either?" The girl asked after the guy disappeared in the tent behind them. "You said you resisted."

Alice nodded. "My CO nearly had to order me to go. She didn't—I appreciated that—but it was fucking hard. See, there is a certain stigma in the service about mental health—I was worried that if I go, and the shrink diagnoses me with PTSD, she would have to report it and I'd be separated, or that someone might subpoena my files and find out just how fucked up I really am and use it to block career advancement or move me out of the field work, and I couldn't have that."

"You've got PTSD, too?" Elena asked, and then made a face as if she just bit her tongue too late.

"There is no official diagnosis," Alice replied cautiously. "But I'd be lying if I said I'm perfectly okay."

Elena shook her head but didn't say anything for a while. Alice didn't go back to her e-book, though, she just sat there and looked idly at the people passing them by, few as they were still.

"I was in the Army," the young woman finally broke the silence. "Specialist Elena Ramos, that was me."

"Oh, really?" Alice pretended to be surprised. "Well, good for you. So you did a four-year contract and got out?"

"I—well, no. I was discharged after three years. For failing to meet performance standards," she added with such venom that it took Alice aback.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said gently. "Must have been hard."

"Yeah." Elena paused for a moment again, and then continued, her face showing frustration now: "I mean, I was doing my job, you know—and I was okay, you know? I was a Finance Clerk, I sat at a desk all day, looking into a computer screen, and I wasn't any worse at it than any of the others, but—but—" She suddenly ran out of steam. "Nevermind. It's all shit anyway. I'm glad I got out," she added militantly.

"Sounds like you're quite conflicted about that," Alice commented. "But there had to be a reason they did that—at least officially."

"Oh, they said I messed up one important thing—and sure, I did make a mistake, but it wasn't that big a deal, and I corrected it anyway, so in the end, nothing bad happened. But it gave them an excuse. They just wanted to get back at me."

"What for?"

But Elena only shook head. "Doesn't matter."

"Well, that sucks. I'm sorry you've had such a bad experience."

The girl looked at her, surprised again. "You believe me?"

"Absent any information to the contrary, why wouldn't I?" Alice shrugged. "Besides, no offense, but I don't have a particularly high opinion on the Army. I've had some dealings with them that made me quite wary."

"What kind of dealings?"

"Well, for starters, I've got an uncle who's a general in the Army—and an enormous asshole." Alice smirked, but then her smile faded when she realized she would have to now share the thing she'd rather keep to herself. "And then, well… let's just say that I've had an encounter with one Army guy go very, very badly."

Elena understood immediately. "I'm sorry," she murmured, hanging her head; her hair fell in a wave on her shoulder, obscuring her face from Alice's view. "I know how that is."

"I'm sorry, too," Alice said quietly. "I was lucky. I was soooo drunk—but I still managed to fight him off until the cops showed up, so not much really happened. And I'm an officer in another branch—I could walk into his CO's office and demand an investigation. I imagine it wasn't that easy for you."

Elena shook her head, without looking up. She was quiet for a moment, before she finally spoke up, chokingly: "He was my CO. I was so scared—I let it happen, over and over again. And when I finally got the courage to file a complaint, they did an investigation and then charged me with falsely accusing him. And then they swept it all under the rug and discharged me for bad performance."

Alice felt her temper rise, but she told herself to remain calm. An angry outburst wouldn't help Elena in any way, and that was the point, wasn't it?

"That's such bullshit," she said, her voice still strained from her mounting ire. "Where was the SAPR in all this?"

She sniffed. "My local SHARP rep was best buddies with my CO."

"Fuck."

Elena sighed. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

For a moment they were both quiet, not looking at each other. Then Alice prodded gently: "How are you dealing with all of this?"

Elena laughed dryly. "I'm sitting here at eleven am on a Saturday with a giant hungover, how do you think I'm dealing?" Then she checked herself. "Sorry. It's just—ah, nevermind."

Alice couldn't respond as a group of three teenagers just approached them asking about the drive. For a long moment, they were occupied with them.

"So if you're not feeling great and don't really want to be here, why are you?" Alice asked, though she knew the answer perfectly well.

"Court-mandated community service," Elena replied sourly.

"You got in trouble?"

"Yeah. I got wasted on E and booze and drove my car into a storefront." She shrugged as if it was nothing.

"That doesn't sound very responsible," Alice noted, but not unkindly. "Sounds like you were lucky no-one was hurt."

"I guess. I just—I can't find it in me to care anymore, you know?"

Alice nodded seriously. "I know how it feels."

Elena snorted. "Don't fucking make me laugh. You're so put together, it practically beams out of you."

"You say that because you don't know me. Elena, trust me, there's more to me than meets the eye." She sighed heavily. "Can you not tell that I haven't slept more than two hours in the past three days?"

The young woman frowned and looked at Alice, her eyes measuring. "Well, you do seem kinda tired…"

It was Alice's time to laugh mirthlessly. "Kinda! I haven't had a good night sleep in over a year…" She swallowed hard. "There are things that happened to me—things much worse than what I already told you—and it all culminated in the death of someone very dear to me. And it was all my fault." She paused, looking away. "Tomorrow is the first anniversary of his death."

"I'm sorry." Elena's face seemed a bit shocked, but her voice was quite gentle.

"The only reason why I haven't given up is because the person responsible for all of it is still out there," Alice continued. "And I'm gonna find him and make him pay. That is what sustained me. I know very well the temptation—to forget for just a while, to just live in the moment for one night… to sleep. God, I miss sleeping without nightmares!" She shook her head slightly. "I've done the whole Benadryl with a glass of whiskey before bed for months just to be able to sleep for more than a couple hours at a time."

"Really? You?" Elena seemed unconvinced.

"I've given it up since," Alice admitted. "And at first it was torture. I was like a zombie. Just—numb, completely numb. For weeks. But then it got better. It's still not ideal—there are days when I lay awake all night, and days when I can get a solid six hours of sleep, though I'm always woken up by a nightmare. It's not a straight line, you know—every so often, I'm hit by a particularly vivid memory, or something shitty happens, or there's a significant anniversary, and I'm back at the bottom of the well. But these days I know I can scramble out of it, and on average, it is getting better."

Elena hung her head again. "I don't know how to do that," she confessed. "I try, I really do—I want to get my life back. But when the evening looms large and empty, I realize I can't face it—I just can't…"

Alice reached out and put her hand on her shoulder tentatively. "I know it seems that way. But you're stronger than you think. You just need to let yourself accept help. It's not easy, but it does work. That therapy thing. Give it a chance."

Elena shook her head vehemently, but didn't say anything.

"Is it the therapist?"

The girl nodded, without ever looking up.

"He's no good, is he?"

"He makes me uncomfortable," Elena mumbled. "He looks at me the way my CO used to."

Alice bit her lip. "Okay. Is this also court-mandated?"

"Yeah. It's this VA thing—I mean, Veteran's Trauma Court, it's called."

"Ah." Alice pretended it was news to her. "Good. Listen, then. Maybe I can help."

Elena finally lifted her head, her expression showing shock mixed with disbelief. "What?"

Alice shrugged. "I can talk to the judge, ask them to change your therapist. I'm sure I can reason with them. I'll take Crawford with me, too—he must have a good relationship with all the criminal judges in town because of his job. We'll gang up on your judge, just give me their name."

The girl blinked quickly. "You'd do this for me?"

"Sure. It's costing me nothing but a bit of time, right? But you have to promise me to really try with the new therapist."

For a moment it looked as if Elena would resist—but then she nodded, a bit reluctantly. "Fine. I'll try."

"Okay. I—" She stopped when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Suddenly worried it was another text from Aaron, she picked it up and let out a little sigh of relief when Jake's name flashed across the screen. "Excuse me, it's my brother." She picked it up. "Hey, Jake."

"Have you heard?" He asked without preamble.

"Heard what?"

"Turn on CNN."

"I'm nowhere near a TV, Jake, just tell me," she snapped, tense again. This didn't sound good.

"Someone blabbed—the Brits have published your name as the hero from BA 218!"

"Motherfucker!" She stood up, instantly furious. "They were supposed to suppress anyone who tried!"

"I don't know what to tell you, sis—it's all over the news, though it doesn't seem they've got many details yet—just your rank and name so far."

"Fantastic," she said with heavy irony. "Just what I needed—another problem to deal with!"

"Maybe it won't be that bad—I mean, you've got that new cover story, maybe it'll hold?"

"It better or I'm screwed," she muttered darkly. "Alright, thanks for the heads-up, let me get moving."

"Yeah, sure. Let me know if I can help somehow."

"Thanks. See ya, Jake."

"See ya, Allie."

She dropped back on her chair with a loud exhale.

"What happened?" Elena asked curiously.

"The press just found out something that they weren't supposed to," Alice replied; Elena would figure it out for herself soon enough anyway. "I gotta go right now, try to do some damage control, but I'll call in Deanna or Dalia to cover me."

"I know Deanna—who's Dalia?"

"My cousin—I'm taking care of her, you know, her parents aren't around."

"Oh, that's kind of you."

Alice nodded distractedly, already navigating to the right contact on her phone to get the ball rolling.

"Oh, no, they got a picture now, too?" Alice moaned as her smiling, younger self flashed on the screen, wearing Class As and sporting her old favorite low bun—still red at the time the photo was taken.

"Well, it goes with a personnel file, so that's not surprising," Carter said, not unkindly. "At least the cover story seems to be holding for now."

"For now," Alice repeated morosely. How long would it take for some industrious investigative journalist to start digging around? Alice had already gotten a call from Aga and thanked her stars that they had signed the deal a few days before. But a bit of delay, and Aga would have free reigns to publish whatever she wanted about Alice...

"How come it wasn't suppressed?" Rodriguez shook his head. "I thought we had a whole department working on making sure such things don't happen."

Carter shrugged. "We've successfully nipped a few press inquiries in the bud—well, when I say we, I really mean the Brits—but there was no warning here. Every self-respecting newspaper tried to get some info on Major Boyd through FOIA first, which is exactly what alerted us and our friends over the pond that there were games afoot. But this is Daily Mail—I'd be surprised if they did as much as a Google search before running with the story."

"Well, the cat's out of the bag, now," O'Neill added, his face small in a rectangle in the top-right corner of the screen, most of which was taken up by the talking heads in the NBC News studio. "We'll just have to keep to the cover story and make sure no-one else talks. Did Foster reach out to her contacts?"

"Yes, sir." Alice sighed. "She assured me they'll stay in line, but she still won't divulge her sources."

"Journalists never do." Carter nodded. "When she's going to print?"

"She said she's got enough material to do it immediately, but that would be suspicious." Alice grimaced. The fact that Aga had gathered so much information about her did not bring her any comfort—quite the opposite. "I told her we want to read it first, before she sends it to her editor. She wasn't happy, but I managed to convince her."

"Good. The President, by the way, is loving all of it," O'Neill revealed with a bit of an eye-roll. "He sees this as an opportunity to get good press for himself—and the DoD, which, frankly, could use a pick-me-up after the many recent public relations fiascos."

"Oh god," Alice murmured and let her head fall onto her joined palms on the table. "Please, kill me now."

Carter patted her on the shoulder comfortingly. "It'll be okay, Alice. We'll make sure the Program stays in the shadows—we must, after all the effort it took to get the IOA to agree to our plan."

"It was your plan, ma'am, I just helped," Alice mumbled without lifting her head. "And as much as I appreciate that—I'm just not looking forward to having my face and name out there in general."

"You'll be fine," Carter reassured her. "It'll take a moment but the storm will pass eventually."

"Be happy, Boyd—the President wanted to send you out on an interview tour at first. I managed to talk him out of it," O'Neill added with a smirk.

Alice looked up at him with genuine gratitude on her face. "Thank you, sir," she said with emphasis.

"So it's just gonna be Aga Foster's article and then no comment if anyone asks," Carter summed up. "When is the trial scheduled?"

"Starts on the twenty-third," Alice replied gloomily. "I guess now they won't have an incentive to do it behind closed doors."

"Probably not," Carter agreed. "You'll have to be very careful with your answers. Remember—you can't lie under oath, even in a foreign court."

Alice nodded. "I know, ma'am."

"What about the New Light?" Rodriguez asked. "We can't put it on hold for however long this trial will take…"

"We won't. Last time I spoke with Durnham, he said my testimony should be the first up, so hopefully I can wrap it up within a day or two."

"If necessary, we can work around the court schedule and just beam you up and down as needed," O'Neill added. "There hasn't been anything new from our Lucian Alliance friends lately, anyway, right?"

"Mostly just troop movements and points of interest." Alice nodded again. "Seems like we're close to mapping out most of their Kassa sources and distribution centers, and I've found the location of one of the queens they're using to get symbiotes for trade with Wael's faction and other Jaffa who refuse Tretonin." She hesitated and then added: "And some rumors, but nothing concrete yet."

"Rumors about what?"

Alice wet her lips. "They may be in talks with the Langarans again."

"What?!"

"Like I said, sir, it's just a rumor for now—but we do know that the Langarans have a new government, and who knows which way they will sway?"

"Jonas won't let them fall with the Lucian Alliance," Carter said with conviction.

"Jonas is just one person," O'Neill contradicted. "And politicians are quick to forget the past. Sam, let's send Nine back to Langara to take their temperature. We're due for a check-in anyway."

"Sure, will do. And, Major, Lieutenant—keep your ears open for any more rumors."

"Yes, ma'am."