SSB's note: In my defense, it's hard writing a fanfiction that confuses me even sometimes. I'm really going to have to go back and rewrite a lot of the first chapters for this. I'll do that after I finish this story.

"Sydney, whose place is this?" Jack asked as he followed his daughter from the zoo where he'd found her, her daughter, and her rogue husband. What's more, is that Sydney seemed more angry than relieved that her husband had been taken into custody. Why, he had no idea.

"Lexy's," Sydney answered over her shoulder and Cory's head. Ever since she'd picked up Cory, her daughter had refused to be let down. Though, Sydney wasn't complaining much.

"And that would be…?" Jack asked as they climbed the walk to Lexy's townhouse. He'd never heard of a Lexy before, especially one in Stockholm.

"Michael's sister," Sydney replied off handedly.

The fact that she had called him Michael had thrown him off guard. The fact that Michael Vaughn had a sister momentarily confounded him. He quickly recovered and looked unaffected. "I see."

"Mommy, my head hurts again," Cory complained softly.

Sydney bit her lip and after opening the front door with the key Vaughn had given her, she placed Cory down on her feet despite the little girl's adamant protests. "Cory, shush."

"But Mommy," Cory whined latching onto one of Sydney's legs. "I don't want you to leave."

"I'm not going to leave," Sydney answered warmly.

Cory's eyes widened for some reason at this and she shook her head rapidly, hugging Sydney's arm tighter. "Please don't leave me Mommy," She whimpered.

Sydney frowned in confusion and looked up at her father for a split second. His eyes mirrored the same question. What was Cory talking about? "I'm not going to leave you, sweetheart," She answered softly.

Cory looked up at her and blinked. "Promise?"

"Pinky swear," Sydney answered, holding her pinky up.

Cory still looked unconvinced. She studied her mother's small finger for a moment before hesitantly raising her own hand, hooking pinkies with her mother.

Sydney gave her a smile, raising her to feet. "Dad, can you take Cory to go pack her things?"

"NO!"

Sydney and Jack jumped when Cory protested so adamantly. She never showed any signs of disliking her grandfather. Not like she just had. Intentional or not, she gave Jack a mean look before turning to Sydney.

"You promised you wouldn't leave," She said.

Sydney bit her lip. "I'm not leaving." She answered.

"But you just said--" Cory protested.

"I meant that you go with Grandpa just to pack," Sydney interrupted. "I'll still be here."

Cory shook her head, refusing the option. "I don't wan' to go with Grandpa!"

Sydney was about to say 'I don't care what you want. Go with Grandpa' but by some small miracle, managed to hold her tongue. "We'll be with Daddy sooner if you go with Grandpa to pack your things."

She could see the hesitation in her daughter's eyes now. Perhaps it hadn't been smart to bring Vaughn into this, but if it got Cory to go with her grandfather to pack faster, then it was worth it. At long last she looked up at her mother and shook her head. "No."

Sydney sighed. She didn't have time to argue with her. If she wanted to tag along as Sydney rushed around the house, then so be it. "Alright. Dad, Cory's room is the first door on your right. Please go get her stuff repacked."

"Repacked?" Jack questioned, not moving from the spot.

"Dad. Seriously," Sydney sighed. "Just do this for me and please God, don't ask any questions."

Jack gave her a look that said 'you're going to have to answer all of my questions on the plane' before moving to go up the stairs.

"Where's Aunt Lexy?" Cory asked suddenly.

Sydney opened her mouth to reply, before promptly shutting it. That was a good question. Where was Vaughn's sister? True, she had said that she was going to go shopping but could it take that long? She'd been gone all day. Or had she…? She wasn't sure what time it was even.

"We'll leave her a note," She said finally, reaching for Cory's hand. "Now, you and me have some hurried packing to do."

-break-

Sydney sighed softly, reaching for the doorbell. After hearing the 'ding dong' from inside the house, she retracted her hand, her foot tapping impatiently. Somewhere behind her a dog barked, followed closely by a loud shout of 'Casey! Get in here!' She smiled softly to herself at that. Sometimes it was good to remember that other people had normal lives.

"Sydney… that was quick," Another brunette woman admonished after she opened the door.

Sydney shrugged slightly. "Sorry about this Cynthia. I thought she was over the nightmares."

Cynthia waved her hand impatiently, beckoning Sydney into the house. "Don't worry about it." She answered. "I'm more surprised that's all. How many five year olds have nightmares?"

Sydney raised an eyebrow at the other woman. Did she really need an answer to that question? God, she hoped not.

Cynthia seemed to catch the look and added, "I mean, nightmares about her father."

Oh. Right. Well, how many six year olds were abandoned before they were even born? Find out that number and you'll get your answer. Though, she wasn't convinced that Cory's 'nightmares' about her father were actually nightmares. From what her daughter had described, they weren't scary. Just unnerving.

A lot like her dreams about the same man.

"Where is she?" Sydney asked, avoiding the subject as best she could.

"In the kitchen," Cynthia answered, picking up on the change of subject rather quickly.

Sydney nodded her thanks, moving towards the kitchen quickly. "Cory?" She asked softly, not wanting to startle her daughter.

Cory's head shot up from staring at the table. "Mommy!" She cried, jumping off the chair and running to embrace her mother's legs.

It probably made her a bad mother, but sometimes Sydney really hated when Cory had a dream or question or thought about her father. It just brought back too many painful memories that had tried for five years to rid herself of. Not that it worked very well. "Are you okay, sweetie?" She asked, rubbing her daughter's back comfortably.

Cory shook her head against the legs she was gripping in a death grip, somehow managing to squeeze tighter. Sydney didn't even flinch. "I had a bad dream."

"Can you tell me about it?" Sydney asked softly.

Cory sniffed before she started to talk. "Daddy was in it and…" While she paused, her mother waited patiently for her to continue on her own. "and… h-he said that he hated m-me… and…"

That was enough for Sydney. With an "oh sweetie" she unwound Cory's arms from her legs long enough so she could kneel down and embrace her child. "Your father doesn't hate you," She whispered, smoothing some of Cory's hair out of her eyes.

"Y-you're sure?" Cory asked in a small voice.

Sydney gave her a reassuring smile and nodded solemnly. "I'm positive. He loves you very much." Or, he put on the façade of loving her when she was still in Sydney's womb. She couldn't even be sure if he loved her, when they were married or otherwise. But that wasn't something she was going to tell Cory anytime soon.

"Then why won't he come back?" Cory questioned, resting her head against her mother's shoulder.

Sydney stroked her child's hair absentmindedly for a moment, trying to think of a satisfactory answer besides 'I don't know'. Sadly, she realized that it was all she had. "I don't know," She replied softly. "But that doesn't mean he doesn't love you."

"It doesn't?" There was a hint of wonder and disbelieving in the six year old's voice.

Sydney nodded again. "It doesn't," She confirmed. "He loves you." She repeated. "Just ask him when he comes back."

"He's going to come back?" Now she sounded excited.

Sydney bit her lip, silently berating herself for saying that. She shouldn't have even hinted at the possibility that Vaughn was coming back. She had no idea if he was. "Of course," She replied against her better judgment. "And when he does, you can ask him if he loves you or not."

"Okay," Cory agreed, sounding happier now.

Silently, Sydney hoped that for Cory's sake, Vaughn came back from wherever the hell he was.

-break-

Sydney jumped, awakening from her slumber at a rapid pace. Now… what was it that had woke her up?

RIIIIINNNNGGGG

Ah yes. Her cell phone. That was why she had woken up. Alright, nothing was going to die or be seriously harmed now. Still blinking sleep out of her eyes, she reached for the cell phone on the table in front of her. Honestly, she understood why CIA planes needed a table on them but it was a still a little unnerving. She'd gotten used to planes without tables. Unless you counted those ones on the back of chairs but those could hardly be called tables. More like hard place mats.

"Hello?" She croaked. Well, that hadn't been her brightest moment. She cleared her throat before trying again. "Hello?" There. Better.

"I come home to a message that says 'call me' and that's it. What's up?"

Sydney smiled to herself at the sound of her friend's voice. Thank God for Francie sometimes. "I'm coming home." She announced, her voice soft to keep from waking Cory and Jack up. Cory had still refused to go very far from Sydney, and was currently dreaming away curled up on the chair next to Sydney. Jack was across the plane.

"With Michael?" Francie asked obviously hinting for the other woman to spill every detail she could, which was everything. "You owe me. Hanging up on me two days ago and then not answering your phone until two seconds ago."

The smile on Sydney's face grew, just a little bit. "Sorry about that. Really. Something came up."

"What came up?" Francie asked, pressing for information still. "C'mon! I'm dying over here being left in the dark."

Sydney exhaled slowly, reaching up to rub at her temple idly. "It's complicated." She said finally.

"When is your relationship with Michael ever not complicated?" Francie pointed out. "What happened to the days of when we'd share everything?"

'I got married and had a daughter and was abandoned in between there,' Sydney answered mentally. "I don't want to do it over the phone."

"When's your flight getting in?" Francie asked.

She wasn't going to give up on getting information out of her, Sydney could tell. It might be good for her to talk to someone about what was going on. Her dad hadn't been helpful at all. She'd tried to explain what had happened and what Vaughn had told her but it all fell on deaf ears. She should have expected that.

"Sometime in the morning," She replied with a shrug.

"Syd." Francie replied. "It's already morning."

Sydney frowned, glancing at her watch. It read one in the morning. Oh. Well then. "Sometime before noon, then," She corrected herself.

"You have no idea?" Francie asked.

Sydney shook her head, even though Francie couldn't see it. "I don't feel like waking my dad up to find out," She answered, glancing over at her father. "And I'm afraid Cory'll wake up and start screaming if I go ask the pilot."

"Why would she do that?" Francie asked, sounding puzzled.

"That's the thing, I don't know why she would do that," Sydney admitted. "Ever since this afternoon, she's been clinging to my side and almost throwing a fit if I go too far."

"What does Michael have to say about this?"

"Michael doesn't know," Sydney answered carefully. "He's sort of in the custody of the United States government at the moment and I haven't talked to him since they took him in."

The line was silent for a full minute. "When was this?"

"This afternoon," She answered. "About a half an hour before Cory started her clinging."

More silence. "So you're currently on a plane back to L.A. because your husband is a prisoner?" Francie asked.

"If you want to put it that way, yes," Sydney answered.

"You could have told me this from the beginning," Francie cried. "What happened between you two? I thought you hated him and now you're flying back from Europe on less than a day's notice to be with him or something along those lines? And what about Cory? How's she reacting to meeting her father? And your dad? He's there? What's up with that? And--?"

"Francie!" Sydney interrupted as loudly as she dared to. Off in his corner, Jack gave a soft snore before falling silent. Cory didn't even stir. She paused to study her daughter for a moment. She usually wasn't that heavy of a sleeper. Then again, she'd had a rather rough day with meeting her aunt, and then attempting to spend time with her father only to have him arrested and then going through 'mommy leaving' paranoia. But still, she wasn't a heavy sleeper like this.

"Sorry," Francie said, unaware to Sydney's confusion over Cory's sleeping habits. "It's just that you can't spring something like that on me and then expect me not to ask any questions."

"It's fine," Sydney answered absentmindedly. "Do you remember that time Cory was sick with the chicken pox?"

"What?" was Francie's initial reaction. That had been rather random. "Um, yeah. Why? What's going on?"

"How long did she sleep that night you watched her?" Sydney asked. She had never forgiven herself for that night. First, she had had a late class that she couldn't get another teacher to teach for her. And then on the way home, there had been a massive accident and she was stuck on the freeway for several hours. The sun was peeking over the horizon when she had finally pulled into her driveway.

"Umm… all night," Francie replied. "Out like a light at eight and she didn't even wake up when you came home."

Sydney nodded. That she remembered. They'd thought that she was in a coma or something but then she had woken up and had seemed fine.

And now Cory was sleeping heavily again. She only did that when she was sick, Sydney realized, really sick. Forget going straight to Vaughn or even meeting Francie. She was going to the hospital damnit. This was more than just a cat bite. If it was a cat bite that is. Maybe Claire had been right. Maybe Louis didn't bite her. Then where did that abrasion come from?

"Syd? Hello? What's going on?" Francie's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Fran, I can't meet you when we land," Sydney replied frankly.

"Why not?" Francie asked, sounding as though she had just been rejected.

Sydney sighed frustratedly. "Because I'm going to be taking Cory to the hospital." She replied.

"What's wrong with her?"

"I'm not sure," Sydney admitted, biting her lip, reaching out with her free hand and stroking Cory's hair softly. "And that's what worries me."

-break-

Either the CIA had changed their process with prisoners, or he was special case. His money was on the latter.

His proof? The fact that he had gone rogue on this agency and the last time he checked, they were not nice to their traitors. Not even a little bit. Nevermind if there was a perfectly good reason behind it. Your loyalty lied with the United States government and the government alone.

Unless your name was Michael Vaughn. In which case, your loyalty lied with your wife and your daughter and your mother and a little bit your wife's mother.

He remembered the last time he had been down this hallway, the brick lined hallway towards the cells at the end. The hallway that housed the most important and often, most lethal prisoners of the CIA. The hallway that was empty most of the time, the exception being now. It had been the day he left the last time he was here. No, the day before he left. He hadn't worked the day he left. By some small twist of fate, he'd had the day off before he got that call in the middle of the night. In any case, it had been more than six years since he'd been back to this building.

The last time he'd been down the hallway, he'd been wearing the suit, escorting a silent prisoner to their highly guarded cell of solitude. He'd been the one to unlock the door, and casually push the fiend in, unlocking the handcuffs on the man, before closing and locking the glass door behind him. He'd never enjoyed locking someone away, but it always gave him a sense of propriety.

He supposed the suit leading him now was feeling the same way.

But unlike the last time he'd been here, to this hallway, there was someone waiting in his cell. If he was waiting for him, he wasn't sure. Only that this was one of the last people he'd expected to see on his first day back. Or maybe it was that he'd hoped that he wouldn't have to face this person of his past on his first day back. In either case, this wasn't going to be something he was going to look forward to.

The person shifted his weight, leaning against a small metal table in the cell. Vaughn supposed that the table, with papers and folders and a pitcher of water, with two glasses and a tape recorder on top meant that they intended to get every bit of information out of him they could and as soon as possible. He wished them luck with that. They were going to need it.

He wasn't going to talk that easily. Not when it had taken him three months to talk to the only ones he really cared about anymore.

Vaughn stayed coyly silent as the suit opened the cell door, led him in –with the casual push. His gaze turned towards the person as the suit grabbed the chains about his wrists, unlocking them with an air of distain for the person in front of him.

Vaughn couldn't blame him. If the situation were reversed, he'd hate the man who'd abandoned his pregnant wife and went rogue on his country too.

He remained silent. Long after the suit and two guards had left. Long after the precautionary doors closed, blaring some sort of bell in the process. Long after the person had sighed exactly twenty two times and gestured for him to take a seat. He did. Though still silent.

"Mike."

"Mr. Weiss," Vaughn answered, maintaining the air of indifference towards his best friend. Or was it former best friend now? He wasn't sure.

Weiss sighed for the twenty third time, shaking his head warily. "Mr. Vaughn," He corrected himself meeting the other's man gaze steadily. "I have some questions for you."

SSB's note: Seriously, if you have any questions, just ask and I'll give an answer. To the best of my abilities that is. Definitely going to have to go back and rewrite some chapters. I am shamed by the earlier plot holes and things of that nature.

Review responses are in my livejournal.

Next chapter: Questions and the answers