Chapter Nine: Beautiful Oblivion

Sydney woke on the leather couch in the game room to the sound of faint voices at the top of the stairs. Probably Michael and the children, she figured. But no. After a moment's consideration she decided that the voice that conversed with Michael was distinctively adult. And female.

The voices stopped abruptly, giving way to the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and suddenly Michael was at her side. "Syd, honey," he said, green eyes full of relief. "Good, you're awake."

"Oh, Michael." She felt a sudden rush of happiness at the sight of him. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Of course I'm here, honey," he said. She sat up and he settled down next to her, kissing the top of her head.

Sydney sighed, snuggling up against him. "Who were you talking to up there?"

"Oh," Michael said casually. "Your mother's here."

Sydney jumped up, eyes wild. "What?!"

"Sydney--"

"Michael," Sydney hissed, horrified. "Did you call her?"

"Sydney! Of course not." Michael rolled his eyes. "She just stopped by. I haven't told her anything," he added, voice low. "I just said you were feeling a bit under the weather when you got home from shopping and that you dozed off on the couch while the children and I were playing."

"The kids," Sydney gasped. "Michael, where--"

"They're upstairs, watching a movie," Michael said calmly. "Your mother was going to go talk to them while I checked on you."

"My mother!" Sydney cried. "Michael, we can't let them out of our sight, we--"

"Shh, Sydney," Michael said, standing and putting a finger to her lips, his other hand moving comfortingly up and down her left arm. "You need to calm down. She doesn't know anything, all right?"

"Oh, Michael." Sydney felt ready to burst into tears, or worse, ready to pass out again. Her hands were shaking. Much as she knew she had to get a hold of herself, she couldn't seem to do it. "Don't you understand? She knows everything. Everything."

"You're not thinking rationally, Sydney." Michael's voice was so comforting, so soothing. All she wanted to do was bury herself in his arms and never come out. "You and I have a lot to talk about, a lot of decisions to make, but not now, okay? You have got to talk to your mother, and you have to act like nothing's wrong, okay?"

"I don't know if I can." Sydney hated feeling so weak, so powerless. Maybe that was why she hadn't minded the idea of running the Organization so much. If she couldn't control her own fate, at least she could control the fates of others.

"Of course you can, baby," Michael said, kissing her forehead. "Now sit back down, okay? I'll go get your mother. The sooner you talk to her, the sooner she'll leave."

"Okay," Sydney whispered. Of course she'd do what she was told. She could scarcely remember a time in the past ten years when she had been given an order she hadn't followed.

She had just settled herself onto the couch when Michael returned with her mother.

"There you are, darling," Irina said, moving toward her to kiss her cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Mom," Sydney said, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. "Just tired."

"Poor darling." Her mother sat beside her on the couch, wrapping an arm around her. In spite of herself, Sydney felt her head dropping to her mother's shoulder. "Maybe you should think about taking one of those pills my doctor prescribed."

"That's not necessary," Sydney said, her mind reminding her that she needed to stay alert even as her body ached to slip into the beautiful oblivion she knew the pills would provide.

"Well," Irina said, giving her shoulder a comforting pat before rising from the couch. "At least let me take the children off your hands for the night."

"No," Sydney said, a little too quickly. "They'll be fine right here."

Irina raised one eyebrow in a silent question. "Are you sure? I could take them with me, leave your gorgeous husband with nothing to do but pamper you," she said, squeezing Michael's shoulder. Sydney noticed that Michael didn't flinch in response to her touch. When had he stopped doing that?

"I'm sure, Mom, but thank you," Sydney forced herself to say.

"All right," Irina said with a nod. "Michael, you'll take good care of her, won't you?"

"Of course, Irina." Normally, Sydney would have been pleased and a little amused by the convincingly warm smile Michael gave her mother. That day, it made her skin crawl.

"Good." Irina let her hand linger on Michael's shoulder a moment longer than Sydney thought necessary before starting towards the stairway.

"Mom!" Sydney called after her.

Irina turned back to her daughter, a slight smile playing about her lips. "Yes, darling?"

"You never said why you stopped by."

Irina's smile faltered, but only for a split second. "Oh, I only wanted to talk business, darling," she purred. "But it can wait till Monday."

"Oh." Somehow, that didn't sound quite right to Sydney. "Okay. Goodbye, Mother."

"Goodbye, sweetheart."

"Let me show you out, Irina," Michael said, starting after her.

"No, no, Michael," Irina said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. "You stay right down here with my daughter."

"Okay." Sydney could tell by Michael's eyes that something seemed wrong to him, too, but that he wasn't quite sure what. "Goodbye, Irina."

"Goodbye, Michael."

Sydney waited until she was sure her mother had gone before jumping up from the couch. "She never just stops by like that, Michael!" she exclaimed. "Do you think she planted a bug?"

"Please," Michael scoffed. "Irina doesn't need to know what we're doing. She doesn't care. She knows she can beat us no matter what, anyway."

Sydney locked eyes with her husband, frowning at the gravity of the situation. The sad thing was, they both knew what he said was true.

"Have you thought about what you want to do about my father's offer?" She figured one of them had to bring it up eventually.

Michael sighed, running a hand back through his hair. "I don't know, Syd," he confessed. "My first thought when you told me all of this was how humiliating it would be to turn myself in to the CIA after all of this. They fire me, and look what I do with myself."

Sydney silently guessed that the CIA probably hadn't been all that surprised to find he'd spent the last ten years in a mess she'd gotten him into. Things hadn't been so different back in their CIA days.

"Then I thought, 'Forget your pride, Michael. Do the right thing,'" Michael continued.

"But what's the right thing?" Sydney murmured, perching herself on the arm of the leather couch.

"Exactly." Michael began to pace back in forth before her. "What about the kids, Syd? How are we going to keep them safe as long as your mother's around?"

"Exactly." Sydney wasn't sure whether to be relieved or upset that she and Michael seemed to be on the same train of thought. On the one hand, it was nice that they were on the same wavelength; on the other, he was reinforcing her worst fears.

"I can't help but think that as long as Irina's around, it might be best to stay on her side." Michael dropped down to the couch, pulling her onto his lap.

Sydney paused. "But if you knew our kids would be safe, you'd definitely want to go to the CIA."

"No."

Sydney looked at him in surprise.

"If I knew your mother wouldn't come after us, I'd like to just escape to some private island somewhere."

Sydney smiled. The idea sounded heavenly...but then what would they accomplish? They wouldn't bring down SD-6, wouldn't bring down Irina Derevko. The last ten years would have been for nothing.

Well, not nothing. Over the past ten years, after all, she had married Michael and given birth to two beautiful children.

The only question was what kind of life they would be able to raise those children to live.