Upstairs in the Ops Center, standing in front of the monitor and seeing her husband's stricken expression, Irina loosed a furious barrage of Russian and headed out the door. Those surrounding her looked surprised. The few that spoke Russian blushed.
She met Sydney halfway down the corridor. "We're going back," said Irina implacably.
"I have nothing more to say to him, Mom."
"Well, I have something to say to you *both*," she said, grabbing Sydney's arm and steering her in the opposite direction.
Jack lay on his bunk, staring morosely at the ceiling. He had expected this, he told himself. Had two years to prepare for it. He couldn't even really blame her. Why did it still hurt so much?
He was startled by the sound of returning footsteps. Listening carefully, he could hear two sets - Irina and...Sydney. He felt a small glimmer of hope, quickly extinguished when he saw the defiant expression on Sydney's face as they approached. She had been forced to come to see him, he concluded with a sinking heart. Irina was meddling again. He strode angrily towards the glass.
"Don't interfere, Irina," said Jack warningly. "This is between Sydney and -,"
Irina's eyes flashed dangerously. "You. idiot." she ground out. "Defend yourself, dammit! Do you think being all stoic and silent is going to win you any points? She's an adult now, stop shutting her out. She can handle the truth. All of it. And stop being such a god. damned. Martyr."
She rounded on Sydney. "So this is what you were like growing up? Something wasn't perfect and you just dumped on your father? And when he didn't defend himself, you just naturally assumed that he was wrong and you were right?"
"Something wasn't perfect?!" exploded Sydney. "He worked for Sloane for *two years*, Mom. He betrayed Marshall. He," her voice broke, "lied to Vaughn."
"You're complaining about the boyfriend you lost while your father is facing the death penalty?" Irina asked in disbelief. "Do you think for one moment he wanted to work with Sloane, a man he loathed? He sacrificed everything, *everything* that was important to him to save you."
Irina glared at her daughter. "And did you know," she seethed, "that your father saved the life of every person in the Ops Center that day he betrayed Marshall? Or that he took that bullet in the chest intentionally, thinking he would die, because he believed it would be the only chance of your recovering?"
She whirled back to Jack. "Show her that scar," she ordered.
"Irina, I really don't think -,"
"Do. It!" she said through clenched teeth.
Jack sighed and lifted his shirt.
Sydney's face whitened as she saw the extent of the damage. Jack hastily lowered his shirt. "It's not as bad as it looks," he said quickly.
"No," Irina shot back. "It was worse." She stood back and looked at the two of them fiercely. "This is the only family we've got. Now this time talk!" she snapped. "And don't. make. me. come. down. here. again." Irina turned on her heel and stalked away angrily.
Sydney and Jack watched her leave and then looked at each other, stunned. Sydney was the first to speak. "Was she like that when you first married her?"
A rueful smile tugged at the corners of Jack's mouth. "She's mellowed a bit."
Sydney was silent for a moment. "Is what she said true?"
"The part about me being an idiot? Undoubtedly."
"Dad!"
"Oh. You meant about the Ops Center and things?" Sydney nodded. A faint tinge of pink colored Jack's face. "Well, yes."
"I saw Marshall the other day," said Sydney offhandedly. "We met for lunch."
"Oh," said Jack, swallowing.
"Do you know what happened after Marshall left the CIA?"
Jack shook his head, dreading her answer.
"He joined a technology startup in the Valley. They were, not surprisingly, wildly successful. Marshall's now like a multi-zillionaire. But-
"...still living at home with his mother," they both finished together. Sydney smiled shyly at her father.
They watched each other in silence for a moment.
"Sydney?"
"Yes, Dad?"
"I'm sorry about Vaughn."
Sydney nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Grateful that her father didn't tell her that there would be others.
Another silence fell between them, finally broken by Sydney.
"Dad?"
"Yes?"
"Why didn't you tell me yourself? When I said those things to you?"
Jack licked his lips and looked down. Silent and stoic was starting to look better all the time. But Irina, he knew, was probably watching on the monitor upstairs.
"I guess that I kind of felt - guilty as charged," he said quietly.
Sydney looked puzzled. "But Dad-,"
"Sydney, where do you think you got your strong sense of right and wrong?"
Sydney was silent, baffled by Jack's shift in direction.
"It was from me, Sydney. Children aren't born with a strong moral direction. Your mother left too early. And after your mother betray-," Jack stopped, wincing, remembering Irina upstairs. "After your mother left," he resumed, "I didn't take it for granted that you'd naturally know. I spent every opportunity I could to reinforce the difference between right and wrong. I didn't want you...tainted. At first by her...and then later by me, by what I'd become."
"Dad-,"
"No, let me finish." Jack took a deep breath. "Sydney, I'm not proud of what I am. I didn't defend myself because the things I've done over the past two years were wrong. They may have been less wrong than the alternatives, the ends may have justified the means, but they. were. wrong. I spent too much time trying to teach you what was right to drag you down now to my level. I hope," his voice faltered, "I *pray* that you'll never confuse doing what's less wrong with doing what's right." Jack's voice finished on a whisper.
Tears slipped down Sydney's cheeks. "I was the end, wasn't I, Dad?" she asked tremulously. "The end that justified the means?"
Jack nodded, looking down at his feet. "You always have been. It kept me sane for 20 years." He swallowed. "And if you have to go, I-I'll understand."
A long silence stretched between them. "Dad," Sydney finally said with a watery smile. "You're not being a martyr again, are you?"
Jack looked up quickly, his breath catching in his throat as he scanned her face. Overcome, he looked away, struggling to compose himself. "I love you, sweetheart," he choked out at last.
"I know, Dad. I know. I love you too."
**
And upstairs in the Ops Center, much to the astonishment of the agents surrounding her, Irina Derevko silently wept
She met Sydney halfway down the corridor. "We're going back," said Irina implacably.
"I have nothing more to say to him, Mom."
"Well, I have something to say to you *both*," she said, grabbing Sydney's arm and steering her in the opposite direction.
Jack lay on his bunk, staring morosely at the ceiling. He had expected this, he told himself. Had two years to prepare for it. He couldn't even really blame her. Why did it still hurt so much?
He was startled by the sound of returning footsteps. Listening carefully, he could hear two sets - Irina and...Sydney. He felt a small glimmer of hope, quickly extinguished when he saw the defiant expression on Sydney's face as they approached. She had been forced to come to see him, he concluded with a sinking heart. Irina was meddling again. He strode angrily towards the glass.
"Don't interfere, Irina," said Jack warningly. "This is between Sydney and -,"
Irina's eyes flashed dangerously. "You. idiot." she ground out. "Defend yourself, dammit! Do you think being all stoic and silent is going to win you any points? She's an adult now, stop shutting her out. She can handle the truth. All of it. And stop being such a god. damned. Martyr."
She rounded on Sydney. "So this is what you were like growing up? Something wasn't perfect and you just dumped on your father? And when he didn't defend himself, you just naturally assumed that he was wrong and you were right?"
"Something wasn't perfect?!" exploded Sydney. "He worked for Sloane for *two years*, Mom. He betrayed Marshall. He," her voice broke, "lied to Vaughn."
"You're complaining about the boyfriend you lost while your father is facing the death penalty?" Irina asked in disbelief. "Do you think for one moment he wanted to work with Sloane, a man he loathed? He sacrificed everything, *everything* that was important to him to save you."
Irina glared at her daughter. "And did you know," she seethed, "that your father saved the life of every person in the Ops Center that day he betrayed Marshall? Or that he took that bullet in the chest intentionally, thinking he would die, because he believed it would be the only chance of your recovering?"
She whirled back to Jack. "Show her that scar," she ordered.
"Irina, I really don't think -,"
"Do. It!" she said through clenched teeth.
Jack sighed and lifted his shirt.
Sydney's face whitened as she saw the extent of the damage. Jack hastily lowered his shirt. "It's not as bad as it looks," he said quickly.
"No," Irina shot back. "It was worse." She stood back and looked at the two of them fiercely. "This is the only family we've got. Now this time talk!" she snapped. "And don't. make. me. come. down. here. again." Irina turned on her heel and stalked away angrily.
Sydney and Jack watched her leave and then looked at each other, stunned. Sydney was the first to speak. "Was she like that when you first married her?"
A rueful smile tugged at the corners of Jack's mouth. "She's mellowed a bit."
Sydney was silent for a moment. "Is what she said true?"
"The part about me being an idiot? Undoubtedly."
"Dad!"
"Oh. You meant about the Ops Center and things?" Sydney nodded. A faint tinge of pink colored Jack's face. "Well, yes."
"I saw Marshall the other day," said Sydney offhandedly. "We met for lunch."
"Oh," said Jack, swallowing.
"Do you know what happened after Marshall left the CIA?"
Jack shook his head, dreading her answer.
"He joined a technology startup in the Valley. They were, not surprisingly, wildly successful. Marshall's now like a multi-zillionaire. But-
"...still living at home with his mother," they both finished together. Sydney smiled shyly at her father.
They watched each other in silence for a moment.
"Sydney?"
"Yes, Dad?"
"I'm sorry about Vaughn."
Sydney nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Grateful that her father didn't tell her that there would be others.
Another silence fell between them, finally broken by Sydney.
"Dad?"
"Yes?"
"Why didn't you tell me yourself? When I said those things to you?"
Jack licked his lips and looked down. Silent and stoic was starting to look better all the time. But Irina, he knew, was probably watching on the monitor upstairs.
"I guess that I kind of felt - guilty as charged," he said quietly.
Sydney looked puzzled. "But Dad-,"
"Sydney, where do you think you got your strong sense of right and wrong?"
Sydney was silent, baffled by Jack's shift in direction.
"It was from me, Sydney. Children aren't born with a strong moral direction. Your mother left too early. And after your mother betray-," Jack stopped, wincing, remembering Irina upstairs. "After your mother left," he resumed, "I didn't take it for granted that you'd naturally know. I spent every opportunity I could to reinforce the difference between right and wrong. I didn't want you...tainted. At first by her...and then later by me, by what I'd become."
"Dad-,"
"No, let me finish." Jack took a deep breath. "Sydney, I'm not proud of what I am. I didn't defend myself because the things I've done over the past two years were wrong. They may have been less wrong than the alternatives, the ends may have justified the means, but they. were. wrong. I spent too much time trying to teach you what was right to drag you down now to my level. I hope," his voice faltered, "I *pray* that you'll never confuse doing what's less wrong with doing what's right." Jack's voice finished on a whisper.
Tears slipped down Sydney's cheeks. "I was the end, wasn't I, Dad?" she asked tremulously. "The end that justified the means?"
Jack nodded, looking down at his feet. "You always have been. It kept me sane for 20 years." He swallowed. "And if you have to go, I-I'll understand."
A long silence stretched between them. "Dad," Sydney finally said with a watery smile. "You're not being a martyr again, are you?"
Jack looked up quickly, his breath catching in his throat as he scanned her face. Overcome, he looked away, struggling to compose himself. "I love you, sweetheart," he choked out at last.
"I know, Dad. I know. I love you too."
**
And upstairs in the Ops Center, much to the astonishment of the agents surrounding her, Irina Derevko silently wept