Descent

by A. Cribben

Sequel to Desolation. Sydney thinks she is ill again... and someone she loves is about to reenter her life. From the end of ch. 6 on, Rebekah will be coauthoring & sharing editing duties with me.

8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Sydney's POV

It was another couple of days before I recovered enough to be told everything that had happened to me since the afternoon Simone came by to visit. It all frightened me a bit, but I was glad to have had people to help me. I was still angry with Michael, but by the time the evening of my last full day in the hospital rolled around, I began to miss him, too.

To ease my loneliness, Simone and Eric both stayed there that last night until the very last moment of visitor's hours. Dixon stopped in, as did Dr. Barnett, but when I grew withdrawn and upset at seeing her, she quickly left. Eric said Francie had promised him she'd come by, but she never showed. I was disappointed, but supposed something extra had come up at work. For all the times I'd missed things I'd promised to her for the same reason, I couldn't stay mad at her. After everyone left, I drifted off to sleep, even before ten o'clock.

I opened my eyes suddenly, waking from a sound sleep. It was late and dark in the room except for the illumination from a streetlight streaming in the single window. I reached automatically for Michael's hand... then remembered he wasn't there. I looked around the room, trying to discover what had woken me. It was then I saw my mother, standing silently in the doorway, mostly hidden in shadow.

"Mom!" I cried. "How did you...?"

She quickly approached my bed. "How I got here doesn't matter, Sydney." She spoke in a rapid whisper. "I came because I have to tell you something very important. "Michael has been keeping something from you for weeks now. Your father is alive, Sydney. And he's known it, all this time."

"That's not true!" I cried out loudly this time, and in the next second I felt, more than saw, Mom's hand cover my mouth.

"Be quiet!" she snarled. "I came here to help you! I'm not lying, Sydney. Your father is alive, and Michael kept it a secret."

"Michael wouldn't keep that from me! Not that..." I said, once Mom removed her hand to allow me to speak. "You have to be lying. I shot Dad, I saw him fall. We buried him. I didn't mean to, but Sloane, he... I didn't mean to, I didn't. You're lying to me! I saw him hit the ground. All the blood..."

I heard myself crying hysterically as if I were two people, one on the bed, and one standing in a corner, watching myself. In the next few seconds, I got as far away from my mother as possible, and screamed at the top of my voice when she tried to take a couple of steps too near. "I want you to get out! Get out of here, leave me alone!"

Irina's POV

I'd seen Sydney upset before, but never like this. I considered leaving, but decided I couldn't give up. I had to make her understand that I WAS telling the truth. This was my chance to be the one that saved her from pain, and I was going to take it. There was no Michael here now, nor any "Daddy" to stop me. Sydney was all mine, at last.

As I moved to approach her again, I expected her to protest, but she didn't. She turned toward the doorway, obviously not looking at me. A wide smile spread across her face. "Daddy," she said softly. "I knew you'd come. Make her leave now, I'm scared..."

Sydney's voice was so firm, I actually turned to see if Jack was standing there. But we were alone. At least for the moment. I heard rapid footsteps in the hall. I was sure it was a nurse coming to discover the source of the cry moments earlier. I had no time to take more than three steps when the door to Sydney's room opened. The nurse that entered demanded to know who I was and how I had gotten in at such an hour.

"I'm Sydney's mother," I said, in a calm, unruffled voice. "I've been away, I just found out she was here. I know it's very late, but I had to come. I startled her, that's all."

The nurse clearly didn't believe me. With Sydney hiding in a corner sobbing, I hadn't expected to be believed immediately. If I wanted to talk my way out of this, I had to make it good. I waited a moment, giving the nurse time to help Sydney stand up and get back into bed. The whole time, she said she wanted me to leave, to please leave her alone. As the nurse tried to soothe Sydney back to sleep, I began to weave my story.

"I was away on vacation... Sydney was told I died in an accident. This was the first chance I had to come here, and I..."

Sydney was still sobbing, but the nurse had heard enough and turned all her attention to me. "I honestly don't care who you are. All I know is, you've sneaked in here in the middle of the night and frightened my patient. Please leave, or I'll have you thrown out!"

I knew I was beaten, and turned to go. This would have to wait for another day... Once Sydney was home, and alone. I heard the nurse return to her attempts to calm my daughter as I walked out. I knew that once Sydney really heard what I had to say, she wouldn't be crying anymore.

Sydney's POV

After the events of the night, Dr. Coldwell told me he might reconsider my release, and have me stay another couple of days. But I convinced him I was ready to go home. I actually felt much better. The lack of medication over the last several days caused my symptoms of fatigue and severe tremors to pass. I hadn't had any true seizures after the one at home. The doctor said that after a few more days of waiting, I would be put on the medication again, at a lower dosage, and be watched very closely for adverse side-effects.

Eric showed up around eleven to drive me home. When we arrived, Simone was on the front step, waiting for us. I smiled and hugged her hello. Then we went inside, talking about where to go for lunch. When I stepped inside the house, I knew something wasn't right.

"Eric," I called. "Francie never showed up at the hospital last night, and she never called, either. Has anyone heard from her today? Her car wasn't out front, so she could just be at work, but..."

He stopped, frowning. "No, Syd. She never called me back either. I'll call the restaurant for you, and see if she's there."

He made sure to go to another room, probably for my sake, but I didn't need to hear his conversation to know that something was wrong. When he came back in the room after about twenty minutes on the phone his face was pale and he was crying.

"I don't want to be the one to tell you this, Syd, but I've just spent the last twenty minutes on the phone trying to find out where Francie is, and no one could find her so I called the police. They have been busy with an accident downtown. It was pretty bad, Syd. They said one of the victims was identified as Francine J. Calfo. If it really was her, she's dead, Syd. I'm sorry there was no easier way to break it to you."

I stood there stunned for what seemed like hours. I felt my legs slip from under me but I didn't care. I couldn't believe it. I had killed my father, and now I had lost my best friend too. I could hear people around me asking me to get up, saying everything would be ok, but I couldn't come back. I was too focused on the loss of my roommate and best friend.

Together, Simone and Eric helped me to the living room couch. I laid there crying while Simone watched and Eric went back into the other room to make some more phone calls. I came out of it enough to tell Simone who Francie had been and she suggested that I move out immediately. I knew she was right, but I quickly realized I'd have no where to go. I didn't want to stay with Michael after what he had done to me, even if he was back, and Simone didn't have a place yet. There was no way I would go back to that hospital, and no one else could spare the space in his house. Simone and I sat talking for some time about other things, and I knew she was trying to distract me but I didn't care. In the meantime, Eric was still in the other room talking to someone on the telephone.

Eric's POV

As soon as Sydney collapsed I knew she would have to move out. The loss of yet another person close to her had accelerated her need of her father, and I knew that he would need to reveal himself to her very quickly. In the past few days I had seen the trauma Sydney had gone through in losing Michael's support and still coping with the loss of her father, and now her best friend had gone too. I knew that this would be too much for her to handle so I made sure she was comfortable and left Simone to talk with her while I went back to call her father.

My hands were shaking as I dialed his hotel room number, and when he picked up I didn't know what to say.

"Hello?" he called over the line.

"Hi, Jack. It's Eric. We have a problem."

"What's happened?" Jack asked softly. I could hear the tension in his voice immediately.

"Sydney was released from the hospital an hour or so ago. When we got here, Sydney was worried because Francie wasn't at home. So I called to find out where she was. One thing led to another, and I found out she... she died last night in a car accident.

"Jack, Sydney can't stay here, and she has nowhere else to go. She needs to know you're alive so she can stay with you. It can't wait anymore. How do you want to tell her?"

"I've already written a letter, Eric. If you'd come pick it up, I could go out and start looking for somewhere to live. I have... connections. It should only take a few days. Until then, do you think Sydney would be all right staying with her sister at her hotel?"

"If she had to. But she really needs you. I'll come right now to pick that letter up. I'll ask Simone to stay with Sydney. I'll see you shortly, Jack."

I hung up the phone and returned to the living room, where Sydney sat sobbing on the couch. I knelt in front of her and repeated her name several times, until she looked at me.

"I have to go out for a little while, honey. I want you to stay here with your sister, I'll be back as soon as I can. If you get tired, take a nap, and you'll see me when you get up."

"Okay," Sydney began softly. "I can't believe that happened to her, Eric! It's not fair!"

"You're right, it isn't. Just try to calm down a little, Syd. I really need to go. I'll talk to you later."

Sydney's POV

After Eric left, I quickly expended the last of my tears, at least for the moment. There was so much on my mind, and my heart was so heavy, that I decided a nap was a wonderful idea. Simone followed me to my room, and knelt beside my bed holding my hand until I drifted off.

When I woke up, I was alone. Before I could begin to wonder where Simone had gone, I heard her voice in the living room. Eric answered whatever she had said, and I felt better knowing he was back. I glanced at my clock radio and found I'd been asleep for nearly two and a half hours. I sat up with a groan, then got out of bed to join the others.

"Hi, Eric," I called as I approached the couch where he was sitting. "I'm glad you're back."

"Me too. I'm sorry I left, but it was important. Come here, Sydney. I have something for you."

I watched Eric reach into his pocket. I didn't take any more steps toward him, because I was afraid he'd brought more bad news. When he saw my hesitation, he held out an envelope to me. I could see it had my name on it.

"Take it, Syd, it's okay, I promise."

I extended my hand to him and took it, then slowly opened it. As soon as I saw the opening words on the pages inside, I gasped.

"I want to be alone now," I said, without a trace of shakiness, or the shock I'd expected to hear. Simone began to protest, but Eric knew better.

"Come on, let's go for a walk. We can come back and see how Sydney's doing in a little while. Okay?"

Simone was reluctant, but after a few more minutes, she agreed. After they had gone out, I opened the pages of the letter again and began to read.

My dearest Sydney,

I'm sorry to first get in touch by letter, but I
thought it would be the least upsetting way. It really
is me, writing this. I've missed you so much, and I
can't wait to see you again. But before I can do that,
there are things I must explain.

The day you thought you shot and killed me was a
setup. Sloane did it, but not by himself. I'll explain
that more later. But the body that was brought back
was made to look like me, at least enough to fool a
stranger. If only you or Michael had seen it, you
would have known...

I was away until just a few weeks ago, around the time
you started to have problems with your illness again.
I saw everything before, too. Last year, while I was
away. Sloane was there, sometimes. But more often it
was someone else that held me prisoner. That person
was your mother.

Whenever you did something to hurt yourself, the same
would be done to me. So now my hands are just as
scarred as yours. My burns probably took longer to
heal than yours, but they're fine now.

I was forced to watch many of the things you went
through last year. Sloane had Michael's house wired
with cameras. Very small ones, of course, so no one
would notice them. You should ask Michael to have the
apartment checked, and remove those horrible things if
they're still there.

While it was a terrible thing having to watch you
suffer, in a strange way I was glad to know I was so
missed. Of course I would never wish such illness on
you. But we spent so many years so far apart, I'm glad
to know you love me so much, in spite of the fact that
I've done so little to earn it.

I didn't escape from Sloane and your mother, though I
tried several times during all those months. They
finally let me go. I came straight home. And though
you don't know it, I saw you one night, at home. You
were asleep, and I'd waited until then because I was
afraid seeing me would make you ill again. I hope you
understand.

I can't wait to see you, but I know you might not be
ready yet. Michael has the number of my hotel. When
you're ready, ask him for it and give me a call. I
love you very much, Sydney. I'm sorry for all the
things you've suffered because of what you thought
you'd done to me. I want to do whatever I can to make
it up to you, if it's even possible. I hope to hear
from you soon, sweetheart.

Love,
Dad

I sat for a very long time thinking and crying. I was so overcome with emotions that I did not know what to think. My father was alive, and had gone through everything that I had done to myself. He had been forced to see my pain and guilt. I could not help but feel even guiltier for making him go through that. I felt anger toward Michael and my other friends for not telling me my father was alive. I could have been spared a lot of trouble had they told me, yet part of me knew that I would have done the same thing had I been in their position. I was happy my father was alive, yet sad that he had not seen me awake and happy for some time. I was outraged at my mother and Sloane for setting him and me up that way and torturing the both of us.

I wondered how much Michael and the others knew. I wondered if they had known about Simone before they introduced her to me and if they had known what was happening to my father while I had gone through the first stage of my illness.

As I thought, I noticed an anger growing. I was angry at anyone who had been involved. I was angry at myself, at Michael, at my mother, at Sloane, at my father, and at my friends. I could not forgive myself for putting my father through what he had to endure. I knew how he had felt, but the worst part was that he had to endure watching me suffer in the same way at the same time. I felt I could never forgive Michael and my friends for betraying me and keeping my father a secret from me, and I never even wanted to see my mother or Sloane after what they had done to us.

I was angry at my father for not revealing himself to me sooner, but that anger soon evaporated into an immense relief that he was alive and a strong desire to find him and hold him forever. I wanted to stay with him and be with him. If I was there no one could ever remove him from my sight. I wanted him to be my daddy for eternity, and I wasn't about to let any opportunity escape me.

I anxiously awaited Eric and Francie's return, and when they got back, I asked Eric for my father's phone number.

"Syd, are you sure you're ready for this? You've spent so many months thinking he was dead and going through tremendous agony over this. You might want to sleep on it. Think it over. Call him in the morning if you really think you're ready."

I was enraged even more by his suggestion. "GIVE IT TO ME, NOW ERIC! I want my daddy! Give me his number! I want to see him!"

I could tell he was startled by my reaction but I didn't care. All I wanted was my daddy. Nothing else mattered.

"Okay, Syd," Eric whispered, once again reaching into his pocket. He held out a small folded slip of paper. "That's it. Do you want Simone and I to leave again? We can, if you want to be alone."

"No, I'm hoping he'll say I can come see him right away. I think I'm really too tired to drive. Would you take me over there, if he says I can come?"

Eric rested a hand gently on my arm. "Of course I will. Go on, call him. We'll wait out here."

I went quietly to my room to use the extension in there. I unfolded the paper, then picked up the receiver and slowly dialed the number. When my call was put through to the room and picked up on the other end, I suddenly felt I couldn't breathe.

"Hello?" It was him. It was really him. I immediately started to cry.

"Daddy..." I still felt I could barely breathe, and for several minutes, that was all I could say. Once I had control of my voice again, I said softly. "I want to come see you, right now. Please?"

"Yes, Sydney. Of course you can come. I'll be here waiting as long as it takes. Don't rush. When you're excited you drive too fast, sweetheart."

I was surprised to hear myself laugh. "Eric's going to drive me, Daddy. It'll be fine. I'll see you soon. I've missed you so much..."

Dad sighed heavily. "I know. We'll talk about it all when you get here. I'll order some room service for us, and we can sit and talk as long as you need. I'll see you when you get here, honey."

I said goodbye, but couldn't bring myself to hang up. I sat there holding the phone tightly in my hand. I knew Dad could hear my soft crying on the other end.

"It's okay to hang up, Sydney," he said. "It's not going to make me disappear. This is real. Don't be afraid."

I wondered how he knew all that when I hadn't said a word about it. But it gave me the courage to end the call. I whispered a goodbye and hung up. Then, I stood up from my bed and went out toward the living room, wiping away my tears as I went. Eric looked up the second I emerged.

"Okay, I'm ready. Let's go, Eric."

The ride over to my father's hotel seemed to take decades. Every stoplight seemed to be bent on delaying my visit with him. When we finally found a parking spot outside, Eric made up some excuse why he couldn't be there, and, frankly, I didn't care. I ran inside to the receptionist's desk and asked where Jack Bristow was staying.

I didn't even wait for her to finish giving me directions. I knew I could find him. He was my daddy, and I needed to see him. I ran up the stairs to the floor the receptionist had told me before I rushed off. Stairways were faster than the elevators. I began running up and down the hallways looking for the number she had given to me.

At last I found it and I was suddenly afraid to knock. I stood outside my father's room for a few minutes when, suddenly the door opened in front of me, and there he stood. My father. In that moment all I wanted to do was grab him and hold on to him forever. My mother had taken him from me once and I wasn't about to let that happen again. He held me for what seemed like hours, and finally he forced me to let go.

"Sydney, I'm so glad to finally get to talk to you. These last few days have been agony. Are you feeling alright?"

It was so good to hear his voice, to see his face, that I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. I had to be strong for his sake. I couldn't let him down. He had waited all this time to talk with me, and now was not the time for a breakdown.

"I'm just fine, now that you're here with me, Daddy," I choked. I sank into his arms again, wanting to stay there forever. "Daddy, I love you, and I'm sorry."

"What could you have to be sorry for, Sydney? I love you too. There's nothing to be sorry about."

"It's just…" he cut me off by holding a finger to my lips.

"It's alright Sydney. I understand. I know you feel guilty but the fact is that this was not your fault. The important thing is that we're together again, and that you're safe."

The last thing I remember before going to sleep in his arms was telling him, "I love you, Daddy. I'll never leave you again."

His soft reply came a moment later as he gently stroked my hair, "I love you too, Sydney."