Valerie slept in Ben's bed. She'd decided that he owed her as much after caging her.

She had a long shower, dried her hair, and settled into the reading nook in Ben's office. She was happy to stay prisoner here—particularly compared to her other options.

Alex wandered in later in the morning. "Making yourself at home?" she asked brightly.

Valerie smiled. She knew Alex was only interested in befriending her because Ben was antagonizing them both.

"Trying to stay out of trouble," she explained, holding up the book. She looked closely at Alex and stood up, leaning against one of the bookshelves. "I was in a boating accident, a long time ago—I nearly drowned. It fucked up my lungs for a while." She gestured at the window. "I was cooped up for weeks, desperate to be outside."

Alex smiled politely, not sure where Valerie's story was going.

"The point is that I am perfectly capable of being stuck in this house for as long as necessary."

"How long is that going to be?"

"Depends on your dad, I think."

Alex made a face at her. "Can you tell me what's going on—honestly?"

Valerie thought about it for a moment. The girl had been kept in the dark about so many things—she was too smart to ignore it. But her father was too stubborn and frightened to let her know the truth.

"Alex, it's not my place to tell you everything—"

Alex started to interrupt, but Valerie continued. "—but I'll explain what I can—sit down."

Alex sat, eyes wide, and Valerie took a seat next to her.

"Your dad has a tumor on his spine," Valerie began. "He's going to be fine," she added quickly, before Alex could panic. "That's what all this is about—why he's got those people from the plane on Hydra."

"What?"

"One of them is a spinal surgeon. The other two—it's complicated. Needlessly convoluted, really. He's using them. I tried to stop him from doing things this way, but he decided that he doesn't trust me anymore." She rolled her eyes.

Alex looked uncomfortable. Valerie realized that she'd dumped a lot of information on the girl very quickly. Alex knew the kind of man her father was, but it didn't make it any easier to be confronted with that reality.

"My dad was not a good man either—not quite like yours, but he was involved in a lot of shady business. He had an obsession with guns and martial arts—that sort of thing. He cheated a lot of people—lied all the time. He wasn't a bad dad, but it was always hard to reconcile the things he did with the person he was to me."

Alex nodded.

"This is part of who your father is—but it's just part of him. He really does have a good heart—deep down."

"Why do you believe that?" Alex asked with a hint of scorn. "I don't even think he believes it."

Valerie smiled wryly. "I'm a pretty good judge of people. He's a fundamentally insecure person, Alex. He's constantly scared—scared that everything he cares about can be taken away from him—his position, his power, you."

"Me?"

"Why do you think he gets all worked up about Karl?"

"I don't know."

"It's not because he hates Karl, or he doesn't want you to be happy," Valerie explained. "He's scared for you."

"Why? I'm not stupid."

Valerie squinted awkwardly at her, trying to choose the best words. "You know what happens to women who get pregnant, here, I assume."

She blushed. "Oh my god. I'm not going to get pregnant!"

"I know! That's not the point though, Alex—that's just what he's scared of. And it's not a crazy thing to worry about."

"Why doesn't he just say that instead of meddling?"

Valerie snickered. "Can you actually imagine him trying to have that conversation?"

Alex looked straight ahead, wide-eyed, then started giggling. "No," she admitted

"Look—when I was your age—" Valerie began, but thought better of using her delinquent sixteen-year-old self as an example. "When your dad was your age, he didn't—he doesn't know what it's like to be sixteen and in love."

Alex buried her face in her hands. "Oh my god."

Valerie ignored her embarrassment. "His mom died giving birth to him. His own dad was abusive. He doesn't really know how to be a good parent. His power is the only tool he has, and he's using it clumsily. But he has a good heart, I promise. Don't give up on him."

"What was he like with my mom?" Alex asked suddenly. "Do you know? Did you know her?"

Valerie shook her head. "I have no idea," she lied. "Her name was Danielle. That's all I really know."

"Can I tell you something?" Alex said suddenly, inching closer to Valerie. "I've always wondered what she was like. No one will talk to me about her—and there are no pictures."

Valerie nodded. She wished that she could tell Alex the truth.

"I think she was probably a lot like you," Alex said quickly, immediately embarrassed to have said it.

Valerie was taken aback. "Like me?"

"It's just—how could anyone love him? You know? She must have been, like, kind of—I don't know—the same as him."

Valerie was startled by her insight but didn't say anything.

"When I was little, I thought maybe she balanced him—someone sensitive and patient—someone who would have been a really good mother."

"Maybe she was?"

"I don't know—that thought used to make me happy, like she was this perfect angel watching over me. But when I got older, I wanted her to be strong. I wanted her to be the type of woman who could stand up to him when he was being stupid."

Valerie laughed. "If you're any indication, Alex, she definitely was."

Alex smiled. "And we have almost the same hair," she added, touching her own dark waves. "It's what made me think of it."

Valerie smiled. Her own hair wasn't as curly, nor as dark. Any similarity was just a coincidence, but she was moved by the way Alex was looking for things that connected them.

She liked Alex quite a bit—she suspected that Ben did not know half of the things she got up to when she disappeared with Karl. She was curious, brave and resourceful—much like her mother, though it wasn't Valerie's place to tell her about Danielle.

But Danielle wasn't the reason she'd wanted to have a conversation with Alex.

"Alex, I know you have had a hard time with him lately, but I think he needs your help right now."

"Why?"

"I'm concerned that people might use the surgery as an opportunity. Your dad doesn't really react well when people try to take advantage of him. I think you could be a voice of reason. Make sure things don't get out of hand. I'd do it but—I don't think it would be helpful at this point."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Take Karl to Hydra. Just—talk to your dad. Don't let him do anything unreasonable. Talk to Juliet. Juliet—she's not his biggest fan, but—"

"Because he's got a crush on her," Alex interjected.

Valerie thought about defending Ben but decided against it. "That was part of it. He has also kept her here longer than he said he would."

"I don't like her—I don't know why he doesn't see how phony she is."

"She's just trying to make everyone happy so that she can leave," Valerie explained, "but she's got a mean streak. Be careful with her. She won't want you to get hurt, but I don't really know where she draws the line."

"Okay," she still seemed skeptical.

"Be patient with him."

"Why do you care?"

"I'm here to help him."

Alex wasn't convinced. "But you actually care about him," she insisted. "You were trying to get me to forgive him when you were barely even conscious. He really matters to you."

Valerie sighed. She wasn't wrong. "He reminds me a lot of someone I lost."

"Someone you loved?"

"You're too smart for your own good," she replied dryly. She bit her cheek to hold back a more direct response. It still hurt too much to think about. "Just be patient. You mean the world to him. I promise."

Alex bit her lip. "Okay," she said finally. "I'll try."

***

Ben was examining his own x-rays. He wasn't really sure what he was looking at—but spreading them all out on the table gave him some sense of control over the situation. He was quite surprised when his daughter burst into the room. She launched into a tirade before he could greet her.

"You have a tumor?" she demanded. "That's what all this is about?"

He sighed. "Yes, we're working on it. One of the passengers—Jack—is a spinal surgeon. He's going to do the surgery."

"Does he know that he's going to do it?" she asked sarcastically.

He glared at her. "We have an incentive system in place."

"You mean his two friends that you're keeping in the polar bear cages?"

"You're dismissed, Alexandra. Thanks for visiting."

"Tell me about Danielle," she spat at him.

Ben bristled at the name. "Excuse me?" he asked cautiously.

"Danielle. My mother. Valerie told me."

Valerie told her. Ben's fury spiked, but he tried to settle himself for Alex's sake. He took a deep breath and sat down, grinding his teeth in anger.

"Alex. I need you to understand that I love you as if you were my own."

"What?" she shrieked.

Ben's brows shot up. "What did Valerie tell you?"

"That my mother's name was Danielle! What the fuck dad!?"

"She told you your mother's name? That's all?"

"Yes! Dad what the fuck are you talking about?"

"Language, Alexandra."

"Now is not the fucking time for you to be telling me what to do! Are you even my real dad?"

Tears were forming in her eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Sit down."

"Fuck you."

"Sit. Down."

She pouted at him but took a seat in the chair across the table.

"I suppose you are old enough to know the truth," he continued. "It's been hard to admit that you're not a child anymore, but I know that you are not—I do."

She crossed her arms petulantly.

"It's a difficult truth, Alex. I have kept this from you to protect you."

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Alex. I mean every word. You may disagree with what I should have told you or when, but I did what I believed was best."

"You always do," she retorted.

He decided it would be easier to ignore her attitude than address it. She had probably earned a bit of petulance, given everything.

He had been so haunted by the horrible things he'd said in his dream—the cruel lies that he uttered before she died. The idea that she would be taken from him was awful—but that his last words to her would be so dismissive and cold? He shuddered. He owed her the truth.

"The mad woman—the French woman. Her name is Danielle Rousseau. She's your mother."

Alex's arms dropped to the table and she leaned closer. "My mother is alive?"

"Yes," Ben said with a nod. "She was part of a scientific expedition that arrived on the Island sixteen years ago. The Island drove them all mad. Your father was one of the men she traveled here with. As far as we can tell, she killed him—along with the rest of her crew—in the midst of a violent delusion."

It took her a few seconds to process what he had just told her. "What?" she asked, her voice small. The tears started running down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he told her quietly and let her cry for a moment.

"Another man was in charge back then," he explained. "A man worse than me, if you can believe it."

She smiled a little at his self-deprecation.

"That man ordered me to kill the madwoman—and her newborn baby along with her."

"Me?"

Ben nodded slowly.

He raised an eyebrow and stared at the corner of the table as the memory came back to him. He remembered that night so vividly. He looked back at Alex.

"I couldn't do that, Alex. Even I have my limits."

She reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Perhaps I was wrong, but I didn't believe she could keep you alive in the state she was in. Maybe taking you away from her was the thing that pushed her over the edge—maybe I should have given her more credit. But that was the choice I was faced with—kill you, take you with me, or leave you with a woman who had just killed five people including the father of her child."

"You took me from her?"

He nodded again.

"I just wanted to give you a safe home. And once I'd taken you, how could I tell you the truth? What was I supposed to say? When would you have told that little girl that her mother went crazy and killed her father?"

He was feeling uncharacteristically emotional. His visions of her death had put certain things into sharp focus. His relationship with Alex was worth repairing—it was, ultimately, the only thing that ought to matter.

"I'm so sorry, Alex," he told her sincerely. "I am."

He stood up slowly and she jumped out of her chair to hug him. He was startled, but grateful for the sudden change. He held her close until she had cried away the tears.

"I'm proud of you," he told her, patting her back. "You're a remarkable young woman—in spite of who raised you."

She sat back down at the table and laughed sheepishly, wiping her nose.

It was cathartic to tell the truth—to let her cry. He felt as though weight had been lifted from his chest. He imagined that Alex would be confused and sad for a while—but she seemed as relieved as he was.

"Dad," she asked suddenly, realizing something, "did you even have a wife who died?"

"No," he answered simply.

"Was there someone?" she pressed.

He shook his head. He supposed that she had filled in the blanks of what his life looked before her and was now struggling to understand who he'd really been. "There was a girl—when I was a bit younger than you—Annie," he confessed. "I foolishly thought that I'd marry her."

"Valerie said you didn't have a girlfriend when you were my age."

Valerie had been in a sharing mood, it seemed. He had no idea how she could know the things she knew, but he made a mental note to excoriate her the next time they spoke.

"I didn't," he explained to Alex. "I was quite fond of Annie—and she of me, but not quite in the way I hoped."

He still thought of Annie from time to time. As a child, her friendship had sustained him through his lonely life with a difficult father. As a young man he'd grown to idolize her—she was pretty, smart, and kind. And she had been a fierce friend—defending him from the cruelty of the other children.

"Annie—Anne, as she insisted when she was older—was my first friend in this place," he told Alex, who was listening with rapt attention. "We were apart for a time, but she came back to the Island—and I thought when she did..." he trailed off. "She studied biology—wanted to become a doctor. She married a nice young man—a chemist."

He hadn't begrudged Annie the happiness that she'd found without him, but he had resented the young man she'd found it with. His disdain stemmed in part from the fact that the man was outgoing, well-liked, and handsome—everything Ben wasn't—and in part because he was responsible for her death.

He sighed heavily. "Annie—"

"—got pregnant and died?" Alex interjected.

He looked up sharply. "Did Valerie tell you that too?"

"No—she didn't tell me any of this. I'm just starting to realize why you're so obsessive about that. But I kind of get it now, I guess."

Annie thought they'd found a cure for the illness—so sure of her science that she'd tested it on herself—with catastrophic results. Her widower had soon followed her to the grave—a victim of the purge. Ben had taken some perverse pleasure in causing his death—but that part of the story was not something his daughter needed to hear.

Alex looked at him intently. He knew that she saw him in a completely different light now—so many of her illusions had been shattered in such a short time. He watched silently as she digested all of the new information. She had wanted answers—now that she had them, he wondered if she would have preferred not to know.

"Why don't you trust her?" Alex asked quietly, breaking the silence.

"Who?"

"Val."

It seemed his daughter had developed an unhealthy interest in their houseguest. He'd need to find a way to remedy that eventually.

"I suspect Valerie is not who she says she is," he answered with deliberate vagueness.

Alex thought about that for a minute. "But she really cares about you, dad."

"I doubt that."

"She does—she was literally defending you with her dying breath."

"She's an exceptionally good liar."

"She said you remind her a lot of someone she lost."

That piqued his interest. Alex had managed to extract a new piece of information from Valerie, however unintentionally.

"Is that right?"

"I don't know—that's what she said. There's something that feels true about it though. I guess she always just seems a little bit sad."

It was an astute observation. He'd noticed something similar about Valerie when she arrived. There was a grief that she carried around—a recent grief. She buried it effectively, but he'd lived through enough tragedy to recognize that kind of pain when he saw it.

"We can talk more about Val later," he told his daughter. "You should stay here. I think you should talk to Jack."

"Me?"

"You," he confirmed, and ushered her towards the door.

He looked over his shoulder at the surveillance camera and stared into it for a moment. Juliet was watching, he was certain of that. He hoped she'd been paying attention to his little reconciliation. The more she empathized with him—and Alex—the less likely she would be to try something stupid.

He shut the door behind him as he left. It was a deeply personal conversation, but he didn't see a problem with using it to manipulate Juliet. He'd been honest with his daughter—and there was nothing wrong with killing two birds with one stone.