AN: Things aren't always as they seem…So sorry guys, no happy ending yet!
I sink onto an overstuffed leather couch in front of the hearth, unable to erase the look of shock on my face. My mind can't quite form a clear sentence.
"What are you…how…?" I sputter incoherently.
You, Michael, Elise, Francie, Jack and I are all sitting in front of the fire, the only place in the cabin that can hold all of us at once. We balance plates of pasta on our knees, and beverages crowd the coffee table in the middle of the room.
"Maybe we should start at the beginning," you say, leaning your head on Michael's shoulder.
"When Sloane first came after us," Michael says, cutting Elise's pasta into bite size pieces, "we knew that everyone we cared for would be in danger."
"So they contacted me," Jack cut in, only to be interrupted by Francie.
"And Jack called me," she explained. "I've been here for about three months now," she continued, motioning to the cabin that surrounded us.
"We knew that Sloane would catch up to us eventually, so we had to find someone to take Elise. We needed her to be safe, and it wasn't fair for her to be running from someone else' demons."
"But why me?" I ask.
"You were the only person we could think of in such a short amount of time. Sloane thinks you're dead, or at least he did…and we trust you," you reply patiently.
"But why only take her for two days?" I persist, struggling to stop my curiosity.
"We didn't know she would be with you for such a short span of time," Michael answers, "The safe house was further along in the plan, but when Sloane caught up we had no other choice."
"How did you know where to find me?"
"The CIA has been monitoring you for the past five years," Jack announces solemnly.
I stare at him in disbelief.
"You've been watching me!?" I yell. Everyone jumps at my outburst, including me. Your fork stops in mid-air, halfway to your mouth, as you, along with the other five people in the room, stare at me in obvious shock.
I'm not sure why I react that way - I should be happy to have people watching my back. But for some reason the thought haunts me. If the good guys have been watching me without me being aware, maybe…no. No, it can't be possible. I blink a few times, as if the action will clear my mind. But my curiosity and fear are too strong, and I can't help but wonder. Could the bad guys have been watching me, too?
"It was a precautionary measure, Will," Jack tries to reason with me, but continues before I have a chance to argue. "I had informed Sydney that you frequently spent time in Masker Park, and she therefore planned the drop off of the letter around that knowledge."
"When did I go back to being Will?" I ask, barely able to register the other information in my head.
"When you stepped into safety. Yesterday I was worried that we wouldn't make it here, that we might get caught," your father pauses.
I think everyone is surprised that he is, for what could possibly be the very first time, admitting that he actually felt something. But the look on your face proves me wrong. You've obviously seen this side of him before.
Although I have made it clear once before that safety is simply an allusion to me, I don't bring this belief up again, for fear of your reaction, or that of Michael. I don't want to scare Elise, and I know that that's exactly what I would do.
"I was simply protecting my granddaughter," he explains. "If she had known the truth, that you are Will, not Andrew, it could have compromised her at the hands of the enemy." His words cause the room to go absolutely silent.
Despite the fire's heat, a chill settles over the room, and your face blanches. Jack's face falters as he realizes his mistake, but Elise frowns, confused by the sudden tension.
"What's wrong?" she asks after a second, her eyes searching each face for a clue.
"Nothing sweetheart, it's ok," you lie, pressing a kiss into your daughter's hair as your father's words undoubtedly boom through your mind.…it could have compromised her at the hands of the enemy…
Jack clears his throat, and the tension eases a little.
"It's been a long day, we should all get some rest," Francie splinters the silence.
"I'll do the dishes," Michael offers.
"I'll help," you add as we collect everyone's plates and bring them to the kitchen.
__________
I sit by the fire, staring at the dancing golden and crimson flames. I can feel Jack watching me from his seat across the room, and assume he is trying to measure the extent of my inner pain, something equally unnecessary.
A heavy sigh escapes me as I think about what has happened in the past few days. The fear is beginning to sink in, and the unavoidable feeling of being watched, maybe even hunted, is stabbing me in the gut. How did I get myself into this? How did I dig myself deeper into this suffocating pit of lies and falsity? I am hiding once again, flinching at the slightest sound, trying to bury myself in the happiness that fills me when I think that I have found you once again….Or that you have found me.
My thoughts are interrupted by your warm laugh floating from the kitchen. I pick up the empty hot chocolate mug that I had placed at my feet, and saunter into the kitchen to see what's going on.
You are snuggled into Michael's arms, your flushed face upturned towards his with an expression of obvious delight as he brushes soapsuds off your face.
"Hey, Will," you greet me warmly without removing yourself from his hold.
"I see I missed a water fight," I grin, glancing at the spots of water that mark your clothes. For the first time in three months, you look truly happy.
Suddenly Elise rushes into the room, tugging on Michael's pant leg.
"What is it, sweetie?" he asks, deep worry lines immediately creasing his forehead.
"Grandpa Jack asked me to ask you if you forgot that I was up. He says it's getting late."
"Grandpa Jack's right, let's get you to bed," Michael laughs.
"Just a little longer?" your daughter pleads.
"It's pretty late, hun," you say, but your resolve is already breaking.
"Can I have a story?" she compromises.
"Okay, a story and then you go to bed," Michael agrees.
"Five stories?" Elise persists, "One from each person?"
"Francie is already in bed, sweetheart."
"Then from everybody else?" she asks, her hazel eyes sparkling as she pulls on your pant leg.
You and Michael exchange glances, and then Michael turns to his daughter.
"You'll have to ask them, ok?"
A huge grin spreads across Elise's face, along with a set of adorable dimples.
It is decided through a silent glance between you and Michael that Elise will be sleeping with you in your bed tonight. Once Elise is settled under the covers, she chooses a story for each person to read. I have never heard Jack so relaxed and carefree before, and I glance over at you as he reads Elise the story she pulled from a large pile beside her bed. You smile at me, a sad small that is apparently reminiscent of when your father read stories to you as a child.
A few minutes later it is my turn.
"What story do you want me to read?" I ask, sitting on the edge of Elise's bed.
"Don't read one, tell me one," Elise requests.
"Why don't you want me to read one?"
"Mommy said you used to tell stories in the newspaper."
I glance over my shoulder at you, but you pretend to be interested in an imaginary piece of fluff on Michael's sweater.
"What kind of story do you want to hear?" I sigh, giving in to your daughter's pleading expression.
"A love story," she says firmly, and I raise an eyebrow in surprise.
"I'm not exactly an exert on love, but I can try."
I wrack my brain for a "love story," searching desperately for some sort of inspiration, when suddenly it hits me. The perfect love story is right in front of me.
"Once upon a time," I begin, and Elise giggles, "there was a handsome prince named Michael. Or at least he was handsome in the eyes of the beautiful princess Sydney."
"Will!" you laugh, burying your face in Michael's sleeve in embarrassment. You are obviously aware of where this is going.
"Princess Sydney met Prince Michael at work one day, and they fell in love right away."
"Princesses don't go to work, silly," Elise laughs at me.
"Normal princesses don't, but Princess Sydney did. She was a very hard working princess, and she wanted to help out as much as she could. So anyway, princess Sydney and Prince Michael obviously loved each other, but they couldn't admit it."
"Why not?" Elise questioned, a soft frown darkening her features.
"The king wouldn't let them. They weren't allowed to fall in love."
"But why not? That's not fair!"
"But even if they couldn't tell each other they loved each other, they had other ways of showing their love."
"Like how?" Elise's face brightened. You and Michael glance at each other, wondering what I'm going to say next.
"Well, Prince Michael gave Princess Sydney a beautiful picture frame for Christmas. It made Princess Sydney very happy and she put it beside her bed as a reminder of the prince's love."
"But wouldn't someone see it there and wonder who gave it to her?" Elise asked.
"As a matter of a fact, yes, someone did see it. One day, the Princess' friend, Will the Jester, saw the frame. It was obvious to him that Prince Michael like Princess Sydney…" I trail off as I glance at my watch and notice how late it is.
"What happens next?" Elise asks eagerly.
"You're going to have to wait until tomorrow night for more," you say, pulling the blankets up to Elise's chin.
"I'll finish tomorrow," I tell her, placing a kiss on Elise's forehead.
I watch as Michael climbs into bed with your daughter, and she snuggles in close to him. You chew on your lip as you see this, and I watch you swallow down the lump in your throat.
"I'm going to go wash up," you tell Michael, and he nods.
You follow me into the hall and I'm about to enter my room when you stop me.
"We never really thanked you for this, Will."
"Don't worry about it, Syd," I smile, "I know they mean the world to you and I will do anything to make sure they don't get taken from you."
You smile and kiss my cheek before turning towards the bathroom.
"Will?" you say quietly as I start to walk away.
"Yeah?" I turn back.
"You're part of my world, too, you know."
I fall asleep quickly for the first time in years, to the sound of Jack snoring in the next room. I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow, or anytime, but I know that as long as you're safe, I don't care.