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Chapter Eight:
Confessions

"Sloane knows that in order for him to discover the true meaning of Rambaldi's work, he needs two people. Two females related by blood." Irina paused. "Rambaldi refers to these two women as the Chosen One and the Passenger."

"Who are they?"

"Sydney, the woman in the Prophecy, the Chosen One, it isn't me. It's you and Sloane knows that."

"So the Passenger? Who is she?" Sydney paused, remembering what her mother had said about the two being related by blood. "You?"

Irina shook her head slowly. "No."

"But you said they were related by blood."

"I did."

"I'm confused. If you're not the Passenger, then who?"

Irina paused as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Sydney, the Passenger is your sister."

Sydney stared at her mother. "My sister?" she repeated, feeling numb. She didn't even notice when Vaughn stepped up beside her, placing a protective hand on the small of her back. Irina did, though, and she smiled inwardly before answering.

"Yes, Sydney. Your sister." Irina confirmed.

"How come I have never heard about this sister before?" Sydney demanded. "Why would you keep this from me? Why hasn't dad told me?"

"Because your father is not aware of her existence." Irina explained.

"How could dad not be aware that he had a second daughter…" Sydney trailed off, realization hitting her like a tonne of bricks. "It's not his child, is it?"

Irina shook her head slowly. "During our marriage I had an affair. This child was a result of it."

Sydney stared at her mother in disbelief. Though deep down she knew that she shouldn't be all that surprised by this declaration. After all, Irina Derevko was not exactly the most moral person on the planet.

"I discovered I was pregnant shortly before my extraction from the United States." Irina continued. "When I returned to Russia, I was taken into custody."

"Why?"

"The KGB was suspicious of my loyalties, given that I had grown closer to your father than anticipated. I gave birth to a daughter whilst incarcerated. She was taken away before I could even look at her."

"How did Sloane find out about her existence?" Sydney asked.

"That I do not know." Irina replied. However, Sydney could not help but feel that her mother was hiding something.

"What exactly will Sloane do to The Passenger and The Chosen One?" Sydney refused to refer to herself as The Chosen One- she simply did not believe it was her, no matter what her mother said.

"I'm not sure." Irina said. "But I do know that Sloane will go to any lengths to realize the true meaning of Rambaldi's work. You know better than anyone, Sydney, exactly what he is capable of. " Irina paused. "He would stop at nothing- even hurting the person who was closest to him."

Sydney suddenly felt a jolt. "Who is he?" she demanded. "Who is the father?"

Irina looked her daughter in the eyes and without a word, Sydney knew.

Francie stood sadly at the front door as Sydney carried the last box to her car.

"Syd, you don't have to leave. Please stay." Francie pleaded, as Sydney approached her.

"This is something I have to do, Fran." Sydney replied, smiling. "I need to start putting my life back together again. I'm not moving that far away- just a five minute drive."

With the help of Weiss, Sydney had found a new apartment in the same block as his. Ever since returning, Sydney had felt oddly out of place, both in the apartment and the CIA. Kendall had confined her to reviewing Sloane's files- a weak attempt to make her feel as if she was doing something productive.

Moving out of the old apartment was the only step that Sydney could take independently to start feeling normal again- well, that and dying her hair back to her natural colour. Sydney Bristow was back- all she needed now was somewhere she could call home.

One evening, about a week after Sydney had returned, she was in her new kitchen, preparing herself dinner, Boyscout winding himself around her legs. While the lonely nights in Tollston had driven her crazy, Sydney found that since moving out, she was enjoying the solitude. She had so much to process and it gave her time to think.

The solitude that night, however, was interrupted by a knock on the door. Sydney could feel her heart quicken, her instincts telling her exactly who was behind that door.

Her instincts were proven right. "Hi." She smiled as she stepped aside to let Vaughn inside. Sydney returned to the stove and Vaughn settled himself at the kitchen bench.

"Your hair," he said. "You changed it back."

"Yeah." Sydney fingered a strand self-consciously. "Audrey was the blonde, not Sydney."

Vaughn smiled to himself. He couldn't agree more. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke again.

"What are you cooking?"

"Gnocchi with blue cheese sauce."

Vaughn raised his eyebrows. "I never knew that you were such a chef."

Sydney smiled as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I had a lot of free time in Tollston. Gave me a lot of time to practice." She pointed to her glass of wine on the bench. "Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, thank-you."

As Sydney got another wine glass from her cupboard and poured Vaughn a drink she couldn't help but ask. "So, what are you doing here?"

Coming from anybody else this would have sounded rude and uninviting, but Vaughn knew that Sydney was just displaying her usual bluntness. Two years as somebody else obviously hadn't changed her ability to get straight to the point.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," he replied, with a slight smile. "I imagine that your return wasn't exactly as you had imagined it."

Sydney snorted. "No, not quite. But then, when has my life ever gone as I imagined it?"

"So?" Vaughn looked at her questioningly.

"What?" Sydney asked as she took a mouthful of wine.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine." Sydney smiled.

Vaughn saw right through the façade, and Sydney knew it. One look at his slightly raised eyebrows told her she was wasting her breath.

"Ok, ok. I'm a bit of a mess, but other than that I'm doing fine." Sydney stressed her final word as Vaughn decided to drop the subject.

"How did Francie take to you moving out?" he asked, raising his glass to his lips.

Sydney looked up at him, grateful for the change of topic. "I think she felt a bit guilty. She kept insisting that I stay, but I needed to get out."

Vaughn nodded slightly, his eyes gazing around the apartment. Even though Sydney had only been there a few days and there were still boxes scattered around, this place had a much more homelier feel than her house at Tollston.

Sydney observed Vaughn looking around the apartment and it suddenly occurred to her that this was the first time he'd ever been in her home with her. Tollston didn't count- that place had belonged to Audrey, not Sydney.

She didn't realize that she'd been staring at Vaughn until his head turned and their eyes connected. Feeling herself blush, Sydney quickly averted her eyes. Then taking a deep breath, she turned back to Vaughn. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

Vaughn grinned. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Jack Bristow sat in the confines of his cell, his nerves on edge. Being imprisoned for two years had done nothing to dull his intuition and right now it was on high alert.

The buzz in the air, the more frequent sightings of Sark and the cold smile on Sloane's face as he stood in front of the cell the night before chilled Jack's blood. Sydney was in trouble and there was nothing her could do about it.

"Well there was this one time when Georgie and I came out of the movies one night." Sydney said to Vaughn later that evening as she stood over the sink. Handing him a plate to dry, she continued with her story. "This guy came out of nowhere and tried to take my bag. Straightway, my instincts kicked in, and well, you can imagine what happened next."

"Oh no." Vaughn laughed. "How bad did you do him over?"

"Knocked him unconscious." Sydney smiled as she remembered the expression on Georgie's face. "I made up some lame story about how I used to take kickboxing lessons," she said, pulling the plug out of the sink.

"Did Georgie believe you?" Vaughn asked, picking up the last glass to dry.

Sydney shrugged. "She never really said anything about it. Only that she wished I had been around in college when she discovered her boyfriend was cheating on her."

Vaughn finished drying the glass and placed it up in the cupboard. For some reason an awkward silence fell between them at that point. Unable to think of anything else to say, Sydney offered Vaughn another glass of wine. When he accepted, she reached past him to get the glasses from the cupboard, but was stopped when Vaughn placed a hand on her arm.

"Sydney," he said, quietly, turning her slightly so that they were facing each other.

"What?" she asked, knowing exactly what.

Without a word, Vaughn bent down slightly and cupped her face gently. He paused for a second, as if wanting Sydney's approval and when she gave no resistance, he pressed his lips into hers.