Chapter 4: Desperate

Rachel Gibson wasn't someone who enjoyed being looked down on. In turn that meant she didn't enjoy encounters with Jack Bristow. Recently though she discovered that the man who made her feel about two inches tall also had a kind compassionate side that he rarely showed anyone.

Jack's POV:

I had Dr. Barnett's contact information ready for Rachel, but I had not yet determined why she needed it. The only issue was that APO didn't really exist on the CIA radar; it was the SD-6 of the good side.
"You have the information," young Rachel is a smart woman, she knows what is at stake here.

"Yes, you are to be extremely careful about meetings, the CIA will officially deny any involvement. Dr. Barnett will be dealing with you as a special patient. If anyone asks, she is an old family friend. I had a list of contacts set up and Dr. Barnett is briefing the history at the moment."
"You know my mother is dead, and my father doesn't really exist," Rachel meets my eye and I glimpse pain in them.

"Yes, I'm aware of those things, there's no need to specify times when your parents interacted with her, if someone gets suspicious, we'll come up with a plausible cover story."

I handed her the information and she glanced at it, "Thank you Sir."

I nod and she takes that as her cue to leave.

"Dad," Sydney is standing in my office door. I was so engrossed in my follow-up on Sloane's activities and trying to track his plans down. The bastard never should have been trusted.

"Honey," I'm surprised to see her at work.

"Hi," she gives me this look like she's penetrating to my core and it's unnerving. It's the same look she had in her eyes when Vaughn died, the look in her eyes as she watched him die will haunt me until I die.

"What's wrong Sydney," I've never called her Syd. That name is reserved for those of her friends she's shared her life with. As her father I'm not in either category.

"Dad, when mom died," she hesitates and looks down.

"Sit down," I invite, but it sounds like an order.

She obeys and meets my eye with a tormented gaze, "you thought she'd died, what if Vaughn…"

"Sydney, Vaughn is dead," it hadn't occurred to me that she'd be struggling with something like this.
"Dad, isn't there a chance that he…"

"No Sydney, he died that day in the hospital in front of you. I know you are too overwhelmed right now to realize it, but this grieving has to close before your child is born. It's not fair that she should have less than all your love."

I wait for her to meet my eyes again and then I continue, "I didn't give you enough love, not even a fraction of what you deserved, Sydney, your child deserves more than I gave you."

"Dad," she is broken, and it hurts me so much to see her like this.

"No Sydney, you are strong, your mother told me something recently, she said as long as you know she loves you, that you can let go of her and the past, the scars she left you with can be healed," I watch her.

"What if I fail at this?"

"You won't Sydney, when you hold your child, everything will start living again," she just needs to hold on.

"I just want his arms around me again," she watches my face.

I stand and walk around the desk and squat down next to her, she accepts the arm I place around her, resting her head on my shoulder.

"I know Sydney," I don't tell her how I burned for Irina's touch in the days following her apparent death.

"I just keep thinking about how lucky you are that you still have mom," Sydney studies me.

"What?" I'm taken aback.

"I mean she did destroy you, but now you know where things are," she looks at me waiting for my agreement.

I can't give it to her; I don't have a clue where I stand with my child's mother. She's still my wife come to think of it.

"You're still married aren't you?" She is reading my mind

"Sydney," again I can't find the words.

"Why?" She wants my past to help her make sense of her future. That's not fair.

"I don't know," it's an honest response. I have no idea.

"I guess because it's easier this way," a lame response, even I know that.

My razor sharp daughter picks up on it of course, "Dad," she pounces.

"I don't know Sydney," I think I do.

"You still love her," she isn't accusing, she just needs answers.

"Maybe," I hate admitting that.

"It's okay Dad," she shows me that side of her that is Irina when we once were together. That gaze that Sydney has it pure Laura, it's the look that used to tell me that she loved me, that no matter what happened she would always love me.

I am so blessed with my daughter, and if for one minute I could take her pain away I would.

"Sydney, if I could bring him back I would, I would give my life so you could have him back."
"Slap," the sound echoes and I turn my face back to meet my daughter's pained eyes.
"Don't you dare," her voice is deathly quiet.

"Sweetheart," pacification wont' work.

"Don't you ever say that again, I need you, I wouldn't ever wish that Dad. You're my father, I would never want that," I see the sincerity in her eyes and am reminded again of how far we've come.

She is in my arms now crying softly. Now I've upset her.

"I'm here sweetheart," and I am.

She stands a few minutes later, awkwardly, "I should go."

"Are you okay?" It's silly to ask.

"Yes, Rachel is moving in tomorrow," she looks happy when she tells me.

"I heard," there's no need to say how.

"Dad, will you come have dinner with me?"

"I'll see you six, Chinese?"

"Yeah," she gives me a weak smile, but it's a start. She plants a gentle kiss on my cheek and then makes her way slowly out of my office.

Sorry it's short. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!