Chapter Twenty-five: The Way Things Used to Be

"Daddy!"

Michael grinned as the little girl came flying across the diner to greet him. God. He'd almost forgotten what this was like-- being with his family.

"Hey, princess," he said, leaning down to envelope her in a hug.

"Come sit with us, Daddy," she urged, wriggling out of his grasp and taking him by the hand, all but dragging him over to the booth where Sydney and Jack were sharing a plate of French fries. "We're having French fries and pumpkin pie."

"French fries and pumpkin pie?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows at Sydney in a silent question.

"Have some, Daddy," Emily encouraged, dropping his hand so she could scramble into the booth next to Jack.

"I didn't have the heart to argue," Sydney explained. She smiled up at him, and for a moment, it was as if the last year had never happened, as if they'd never been apart. As if Irina hadn't stuffed the two of them full of enough lies to keep them miserable for the rest of their lives.

"Hey, it's okay," Michael said, touching her cheek fondly. He wasn't sure if that was appropriate now, wasn't sure how he was supposed to act, how he was supposed to feel. He only knew that he wanted desperately to forget all that she had done, forget how he was hurting and just go back to the way things had been. Maybe he would. Irina had kept him away from the woman he loved for the last year, why should he let his pride keep him away for longer? "French fries and pie sound good to me, too," he said, sliding into the booth next to her.

"Did you want to order something else?" Sydney asked, brow knitted in concern. "I thought you were going to pick something up for yourself."

"Oh, I had a little something," Michael said offhandedly. A bag of stale gas station popcorn and a Snickers bar, to be exact, but really, he wasn't hungry. He flashed his wife a smile that he knew would erase the worry from her face. "I've missed this," he said simply. He knew she knew what he meant. Family dinners with Emily chattering away happily and Jack looking on with solemn green eyes. His wife at his side, beautiful and loving. God, he wanted this, he wanted all of this, wanted to pretend the last year hadn't happened, wanted--

"You've missed a lot, Daddy," Emily interrupted his thoughts. "I started kindergarten, and I'm learning to read and count and--"

She said more, but Michael didn't hear a word of it. God, he had missed a lot. Emily's first day of school and birthdays and holidays and--

"She's doing beautifully," Sydney interrupted his reverie. "Her teacher is always telling me what a bright little girl she is."

"Well, we already knew that," Michael said, smiling at his daughter.

"Where have you been, Dad?" Jack demanded, apparently deciding he'd been silent long enough. "Why couldn't we know you were alive for the last year?"

"I've been working for the Organization at another location, Jack," Michael said. He didn't feel like evading the question, didn't feel like making up a lie. "Your grandmother told me that the CIA knew where our operation was and that it was important that I stay away, that everyone at the original Organization headquarters believe I was dead. She told me--" he looked away. "She told me that your mother had died, Jack." Beside him, Sydney gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

Across the table, Jack nodded as if he wanted to understand but didn't, not really. "We've really missed you," he said, his voice wavering a little.

Yes, Michael couldn't help but think. But you moved on. Sydney had opened her home, her bed, her legs to another man. Emily, young and sweet as she was, had probably welcomed the new man in her mother's life with open arms. Michael's heart ached as he pictured his daughter smiling at Sark, climbing onto his lap so he could read her a story.

And Jack. Well, it look like Jack had been more resistant. As unwilling to move on with his life as his father had been.

What are you so angry about? A voice in Michael's head whispered. That your wife and children were able to build a new life in your absence? Or that you might never have been able to do the same?

He didn't say any of that. Instead, he simply reached across the table and placed a hand over his son's.

"I've missed you too."