Chapter Twenty-three: Pit Stop

Sydney dozed on Michael's shoulder for she wasn't sure how long. All she was certain of was that when she had drifted off, the sun had only just been peeking over the horizon, and when she woke, it was high in the sky. She sat up straight, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, then turned to gaze back at her children. Jack was still passed out-- he had always been one to sleep as long as he was allowed-- and Emily sat quietly playing with a pair of dolls. So young, so innocent. So able to take everything in stride. Sydney wished the same was true of herself.

"Morning, sweetie," she said quietly, not wanting to rouse her son.

"Morning, Mommy," Emily said blissfully.

Sydney smiled and turned her attention to Michael, lowering her voice even more. "You must be exhausted, baby." She wasn't sure if she'd earned the right to call him baby, but doing so felt so right. "Want me to drive for awhile?"

"I was thinking of stopping in the next town," Michael responded, speaking in the same hushed tone. "We should eat, and pick up more food for the trip, and find something new to drive."

Sydney nodded. "Where do we go from there?"

"I think we should get on a plane sometime today," Michael replied. "Doesn't matter where to. We just need to keep moving, then maybe eventually we'll find somewhere safe we can stay for awhile."

Sydney frowned. She and Michael had collected a fair amount of fake passports and aliases over the years, some Irina hadn't bothered to keep track of. It was the children that were the problem. Securing false documents for the two of them had never been necessary in the past, and there hadn't been time to do so in their hurried getaway. "I wish there was someone we could trust to keep the kids until we get settled somewhere," she said, her voice low. "Do we know anyone who doesn't have ties to the Organization?"

Michael sighed. "I thought about Eric Weiss, or my mother," he confessed. "But I hate to put either of them in danger."

"I don't think we could trust Weiss not to send the CIA after us, anyway."

Michael nodded. "I hate what we're about to put the kids through, but I think they'll be safest with us."

"What are you about to put us through, Dad?"

Sydney's head jerked towards the backseat. Shit. Jack was awake.

"Jack, buddy," Michael said, glancing at his son in the rearview mirror. "From here on out, I need you and your sister to do exactly as your mother and I say and not argue or ask questions, okay?"

Jack smirked. "So I can't ask how you came back from the dead?"

"I wasn't dead," Michael said tersely. "Your grandmother just made your mother think I was."

"Why?"

"Jack--"

"It's okay, Sydney," Michael interrupted her. "Jack, she did it because she knew we were thinking about working against her, and she didn't like it." Sydney glanced at her husband. His lips were set firmly in a straight line.

"Why were you thinking about working against Grandma?"

"Because she's not a good person, Jack." Sydney could tell that Michael was getting a bit tired of this line of questioning, but she figured he would put a stop to it when he was ready.

"Why were you working for her at all, then?" Jack pressed.

"When we went to work for her, it seemed like the best option available to us." Seemed like being the operative words. What would have happened if they would have explored their other options? Would Sydney have taken down SD-6 and the Alliance? Would Michael have chosen a new career as a teacher or a lawyer or an actor?

Would they still have been together?

At least Sydney could feel fairly certain that the answer to the last question was yes. If they had made it through the hell of the last decade, surely they could make it through anything.

They reached the outskirts of a small city-- Sydney had no idea where they were, and she didn't think it mattered-- and Michael pulled into the parking lot of a small diner. "Syd, why don't you and the kids go in and get something to eat?" he suggested. "I'm going to go see about finding something new to drive."

"Does that mean you're going to steal a car?" Jack piped up.

Michael frowned. "You've asked enough questions, Jack."

"That means he is," Jack told Emily conspiratorially.

"That's enough," Michael said, green eyes flashing. "Syd, I'll be back soon."

"Okay, sweetheart." He flinched at the endearment even as Sydney sensed he wanted for things to go back to the way they'd been before. "Do you want me to order you something?"

"No, thanks, I'll just pick something up."

"Before or after you steal the car?"

"Jack!" Sydney and Michael said in unison. They exchanged a glance before Sydney made a move to get out of the car.

"Be careful, Michael," she said, placing a tender hand on his cheek.

"I will," he said. He hesitated before adding, "I love you, Syd."

"I love you, Michael." She kissed him once, briefly on the lips before she, Jack, and Emily climbed out of the car and headed for the restaurant.