Worse Than Death
I don't own them, don't pretend I do, so don't sue. There, I'm disclaimed.
Set a year in the future: how does Sydney cope with losing the things she loves the most? Nothing after 'Phase One' has happened, except for Dixon joining the CIA.
My mom sets a gentle hand on my shoulder, and I look up to see her smile softly before she continues on her way. I nod at her back, but I don't return the smile. I can't. I haven't smiled in over a year, and I have no reason to start now. As I look back down at the table, I can feel my mother back at me again before she goes upstairs. As I watch her retreating back, thoughts fill my head.
They are the same thoughts I have every day, and they are in the same order they come in every day. My thoughts are the only thing about my life that is organized, truly organized. Sure, my mother runs our organization, and everything about it is painstakingly, meticulously precise. But I'm not truly a part of that world anymore. The only reason I'm still here is because of my mother. She is the last thing I have left in this world, and I couldn't make it without her. We are each others lifelines.
It's funny how things like that come to pass. Three years ago, I thought she was dead. Two years ago, I was hunting for her. One year ago, I was reconnecting with her. And now, she is the only person I trust in the world. Circumstances conspired to bring this about. If things had gone the way I had once imagined, I would now be married, or at least engaged, to Michael Vaughn. My father and I would have finally healed all the old wounds. The CIA would have been able to catch Sloane. My mother would have been moved to a nice little house, under CIA guard 24/7, but with at least some breathing room.
Instead, my mother and I are now running her old operations, and the CIA is our primary target.
A year ago, I would have laughed at the thought. But a year ago, I had hope, love, and sanity. Now I have none of those things, and I blame Sloane and the CIA for destroying my life, destroying me.