A/N: These thoughts take place up to the season two eppy "Endgame". All spoilers are unintentional.
Emily and I always wanted children; there just wasn't enough time. My work always took precedence over family. I loved Emily with all my heart… now it's too late.
She's gone. There's nothing I can do about it. Now I have no family. No one to call me "husband". No one to call me "father". No one will ever call me that now.
I've told Sydney that I've thought of her as a daughter, and it's true. It was always a given that those feelings would never be reciprocated, but I took pleasure in seeing her react with Emily. I know Emily enjoyed it as well, because it was a taste of something she didn't have herself.
I feared for Sydney's safety every time I sent her on a mission. There were times when I was glad I could send another agent, but she was just too talented not to exploit.
It broke my heart when Danny was "contained". I saw the pain in Sydney's eyes when she stormed into my office, Danny's blood on her blouse. I had to bring up the steely resolve, but inside I was heartbroken. Even though I knew that she had broken the rules, she had done it because she couldn't lie to the one she loved, like I finally couldn't bear lying to Emily anymore. Emily died because of the truth, just like Danny.
The ironic thing was that even what she thought was the truth was a lie. It was the only way to keep them safe, yet keep them under the control of the Alliance. Sydney, Dixon, Marshall, all of them were vital to the cause, but ultimately it was all for another end. An end draped in shadows and mystery, but the beginning to immortality.
I had planned to spend the rest of eternity with Emily and finally start a family. That can't happen anymore, just like I can't bring Emily back. I know now the most important thing in this world. More important than the Alliance, more important than Rambaldi…
Family.
A family I no longer have.
A family I never had in the first place.