Chapter Eight: Breakdown

Sydney took a deep breath as she pulled her car into the driveway. She couldn't say she was terribly happy to see Michael's car parked in the space beside it. He had been in such a good mood when he'd left the house that morning. She hated to be the one to ruin that.

She moved her hand to the door handle, stopping short when she realized how badly her hands were shaking. She had to get a hold of herself. That was all there was to it.

So she forced herself out of the car, forced herself to walk through the front door and call, "Michael?"

"We're downstairs, honey!" Great. Downstairs. That meant they were playing ping-pong or Michael was teaching Jack to play pool. No doubt they were having a great time. A great time that would end precisely the moment Sydney appeared at the bottom of the stairs and opened her mouth.

She walked down the stairs to find her family gathered around the ping-pong table, just as she had predicted. Apparently, it was Michael versus Jack and Emily, though she was sure Emily wasn't doing much more than standing there holding a paddle. She wasn't even tall enough to see over the table. Sydney would have found the sight adorable, under normal circumstances.

"Hi, sweetheart," Michael said, looking away from the game to smile at her. "Did you get a lot of shopping done?"

"Ha!" Jack crowed, as his oblivious father failed to return his serve. "We win!"

"Hey, no fair, Jack, I wasn't paying attention." Sydney smiled in spite of herself. Michael sounded just like a little kid. He was so competitive.

Most days, she would have joined them then, wrapped her arms around Michael and teased him a little. She would have suggested they start a new game and insisted that Jack be on her team. That day, though, she stood rooted to the bottom of the stairs. Frozen.

"Michael, we need to talk," she said, her voice soft.

As hard as she was trying to keep her face expressionless, she must not have been terribly successful. "What's wrong, Mom?" Jack asked, green eyes full of concern.

She shook her head. "Everything's fine, honey, I just--" To her horror, she felt her voice break, and she knew the tears were on their way.

Her beautiful family. That morning, she'd felt so sure things were going to work out for them. And while her children's futures hadn't necessarily been set in stone, she'd felt sure, at least, that she and Michael would be there for them. Be able to give them anything they needed or wanted, be able to keep them safe. Her father had taken that certainty away.

Her sweet little Jack. Now that she thought about it, the time right after he was born was probably among the best of Sydney's entire life. She remembered how Michael had climbed into her hospital bed with her while she held their new son. The two of them had spent hours, just staring at the perfect little child they'd created.

They'd been so happy.

Things had been different when Emily was born. Sydney had gone into labor six weeks early. She'd lost so much blood giving birth, and the baby had been so tiny; the doctor had been unsure whether either mother or child would survive. Sydney realized now how lost and confused little Jack must have felt then. His mommy had left to have a baby and not come back for what must have seemed like forever. Michael had gone home to him whenever he could, but he'd been so reluctant to leave Sydney's side. So reluctant to leave their little baby. It hadn't been long before it was clear that Sydney would be fine, but it took them awhile to be sure about Emily, and when they were finally allowed to take her home, it had seemed like such a miracle. Sydney and Michael had vowed that they would take extra special care of their precious little girl. And they had.

Sydney looked at both of her children then, the two of them blurring under her teary gaze. What if she and Michael weren't able to keep them safe? Suppose she and Michael did go to the CIA. Who was to say the government would ever be successful in taking Irina into custody? Who was to say she wouldn't snatch up Jack and Emily and hide them away somewhere?

The what-ifs were too much for Sydney to bear. She found herself unable to stand, dropping down to sit on the bottom stair. "Jack, honey," she said, voice so full of fear and worry it frightened even her. "You know how much I love you, don't you?"

"Yes, Mom." Jack's eyes were as wide as saucers. He clearly didn't know how to deal with a mother who wasn't cool and in control.

"And Emily," she said, turning her attention to her daughter. "Mommy loves you no matter what, okay?"

"Okay, Mommy." Even little Emily sounded scared.

Well, she should have been scared. Sydney had been on the planet more than three decades longer than she had, and she was absolutely terrified.

"Sydney, what happened?" Oh, Michael. Her gorgeous husband. He was so good to her, so good to their children. She loved him so much.

"Michael, please." He was at her side by the time she began to cry. She knew she had to pull herself together and tell him what her father had told her. He'd know the right thing to do.

"Shh, honey, don't cry, I can't stand it when you cry," he soothed. He raised his voice to say, "Jack, buddy, take your sister upstairs."

Yes, Jack, take her upstairs, Sydney added silently. Your mother's scaring her. Your mother's scaring all of us.

"Sydney, honey, tell me what's wrong."

Sydney looked at him, taking a deep breath as she willed the right words to come. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the heel of her hand. And she calmly, rationally told him everything her father had told her that morning.

And then she fainted.