Logan Fisk stared at the picture that young Matt had dug out of the depths of one of the drawers. He hadn't looked at that picture in a very long time. It brought up too many bad memories.

"I miss you, Kaylee," he whispered as he gently stroked the picture of her face. "I never stop thinking about you."

He could still remember the day of the explosion like it was yesterday. He had managed to make it far enough down the building that the explosion only threw him a few feet. The blast destroyed the top three floors of the building, but luckily he made it to the fourth from the top. The building crumbled around him, but he managed to find a small air pocket in the rubble to hide in until someone tried to dig out the survivors.

When he emerged from the rubble, one of his employees had been waiting for him. They had received intel that Kaylee Derevko was dead. He had known a long time before that she was confused about her place in Irina Derevko's life and her relationship with him. He could respect the fact that she turned to her sister and father for comfort. But he had always been worried about what the CIA would do to her.

Which was why he wasn't surprised to hear they had thrown her in a containment cell for the crimes that she had committed for her mother. It also made it easier to believe when his employee told him that the Covenant had kidnapped Kaylee from the CIA's imprisonment. They had interrogated her, and when she wouldn't talk, they had her killed. He knew that someone could have easily tampered with the intel, but it checked out. Kaylee Derevko was nowhere to be found. She wasn't in CIA custody, and she certainly wasn't in the Covenant's incapable hands.

He had lost his mind trying to deal with the grief of her death. He walked away from his employee that day and never turned back. The first boat he could find became the ship he now thought of as home. He left all reminders of his previous life behind except for this picture. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring himself to leave it sitting on the night stand where it had been stored for months. It was taken on the night he had proposed to Kaylee by a street man trying to make a few extra bucks by taking snapshots of the tourists. Seeing the happy couple, he had swooped in for an easy sale.

He continued to look at the picture as the tears began to trail down his face. He didn't even have the energy anymore to wipe them away. Little Matt Turner had no idea the feelings he had dredged up by unearthing this photo.

The anger got the better of him, though, and he found himself hurling the picture up against one of the ship's walls. The glass broke with a satisfying crunch. He heard footsteps behind him as someone made their way down below to where he was sitting, but he didn't have the energy to turn and yell at the person to get off his ship.

"You are a sight for sore eyes, Andrew," came an extremely familiar voice.

"What the hell are you doing here, Irina?" he snarled back at her. "I thought it would be clear to you that I don't want anything to do with you or your organization."

"I have to say I was surprised that you picked such a horrible name to live under," she said with a laugh. "Logan Fisk. It sounds like something out of a comic book. What were you thinking?"

"Get out, Irina. I don't want to engage in your witty banter." He glared at his former employer.

"You're not at all curious what I've been up to these past two years that you spent sailing the high sea." She paused to gauge his reaction. "No, you're not curious at all. But you should be."

"I really don't have the energy to do this, Irina. Please get off my ship and get out of my life."

"You've become a broody, self-pitying mess, Sark. And I'm ashamed to call you my friend."

Sark laughed. "We were never friends. Colleagues, yes. But friends, no."

"Well, I think otherwise. You were one of the few people I trusted completely. In my mind, that makes you my friend."

"How did you find me?" He hoped that by asking the right questions he could convince her to leave his ship.

"You leave a very easy trail to follow. Obviously I didn't teach you as well as I had hoped. You see, I just decided I wanted to find you and there you were. In a small town harbor on a ship that was falling apart. A ship named for my daughter."

"I loved her."

"Why'd you stop?" Irina asked. She knew the answer to the question, but she lived to set people up for life-altering revelations. It was one of the few joys she had left in life.

"What are you playing at?" Sark hissed. "I'm not in the mood to dance around the subject or talk about your dead daughter. Why are you risking being picked up by the CIA to talk with me?"

"The CIA loves me. They wouldn't dream of trying to arrest. Granted they did give me a babysitter for this little excursion into Small Town America. But I lost him somewhere near Charlotte. I'm their new favorite agent, didn't you hear?"

Sark grabbed Irina's arm forcefully and dragged her off the boat and onto the docks. "I'm tired of your crap, Irina. Have a nice life. Don't try to find me again." He began to untie his boat, fully intending to pick up anchor and sail to another town where no one knew who he was.

"You're just bitter because you think my daughter, the love of your life, is dead," Irina stated.

Sark was determined to ignore her, but something in the way she phrased that sentence stopped him dead in his tracks. "What do you mean I think Kaylee is dead?" he asked.

"Exactly as it sounds," Irina said with a shrug. She turned to leave calling over her shoulder, "Have a nice life, Andrew!"

Sighing, he ran after her and grabbed her arm, effectively spinning her back towards him. "Explain. Now," he demanded forcefully.

"You stupid idiot," Irina said as she poked his chest. "Kaylee is not, nor has she ever been, dead. She's alive and well. And she thinks you're dead. I didn't correct her. I didn't know if you wanted me to. You left my service without a word explaining what had happened. I could only assume that it was because you thought that Kaylee was gone from your life forever. You were never really good at verifying the information you received. I mean she's been living in Wisconsin for the past two years with Will Tippin, and you couldn't figure that out by yourself. Just another reason you should have stuck with me. Seems to me that she has a great life without you. And you are doing just fine and dandy being Mr. Scary Sailor. I wasn't sure that you wanted your quiet little life interrupted either."

"I'm just supposed to believe that you're telling me the truth?" Sark asked.

"I don't know how this whole mess happened. Honestly, I don't. I just wake up one day and my firstborn child is being sold to the Covenant. Everyone thinks she's dead. Then my second born child is missing in action, but she turns up in the hands of the CIA. I don't find that out of course until it's too late. Half the world thinks she's dead, too. Including you, my most trusted employee, who seems to lose all his senses and becomes a wandering sailor with the worst beard I have ever seen. You really need to shave that."

"You're the second person to tell me that today," Sark said with a smirk.

"I'm glad to see you returning to your old self." She didn't really enjoy toying with Sark and his emotions. She had actually grown to love the man. But she knew that explaining to him why she needed him to come with her wasn't going to get him to comply.

"What was your real reason for coming here and telling me all of this, Irina? I know you to well to think you did it out of kindness to Kaylee or me."

"You're right," Irina said with a smile. "I do have my own agenda. I need Kaylee out of the CIA's clutches. It's as simple and selfish as that. I don't want my daughter living in that world. She belongs by my side. As do you."

"I vowed I'd never go back to that life," Sark told her.

"That was when you thought Kaylee was dead. She's alive. And she needs you. More than you know." Irina held her hand out to him. "Are you ready to return to your old life, Andrew?"

Smiling, he grasped her hand and gave it a light kiss. "I think I am."