Chapter 27

"Alright Sterling," Nate announced firmly as he made to follow Sterling into his study, "stop talking in riddles and tell us what's going on."

Sophie knew how important Sterling's information was to their cause but knew she would be of no use to Nate; her thoughts were fully preoccupied far away from their conversation.

"Nate, I…, I'm just going to check on Eliot," she announced to Nate's back, her body already twisted in the direction that Eliot took the little boy.

Nate turned back to her, his brows tight with curiosity. "…Okay…Is everything alright, Soph?" he asked as he studied her face and walked back to her.

She held up a hand to discourage his advance, "I'm fine, really," she lowered her voice, "Please, go talk with Sterling." She looked over to Sterling conspiratorially and Nate took her action to mean she thought their host was on the verge of divulging vital information.

He nodded his head to wordlessly answer and offered her a small smile. She smiled back and they turned away from each other- he to his quarry, she to hers.

"Ok, Sterling," Nate called as he finally sidled up to Sterling's bar and eyed the assorted liquors, "what more do you know?"

Sterling held Nate's gaze for a moment before he took a deep breath and began, "Are you familiar with the Hydra of Greek mythology?"

Sophie touched the door to the room where Eliot had taken Joshua. She let her fingers linger over the lacquered pine; her head low, her breath lodged tightly in her chest. 'Just go in,' she coaxed herself. She felt heaviness in every limb- her body's natural response to the conflict raging within. Panic began building as she wondered about the 'what ifs' that haunted her every day of the past three years.

It wasn't possible- she knew it but every fiber of her seemed to need confirmation, just once more. Her hand glided slowly over the smooth pine and came to rest on the handle of the door. A deep breath and a twist of her wrist…

"I'm familiar with the Greek myths, Sterling? What are you getting at?" Nate answered dryly.

"…The Hydra," Sterling continued, undeterred, "is a creature of unspeakable guile and cunning and nearly invincible. For every blow deemed fatal by an enemy, it reemerges twice as strong… and twice as deadly…."

"…WHAT'S YOUR POINT, STERLING?" Nate's near bellow halted Sterling's diatribe.

"MY POINT," Sterling shot back in return before his voice evened out, "is that you've created your own worst enemy, Nathan. This woman did her research. She studied you, she studied your team. She has files on you from as far back as your first report card from the nuns and," he paused for dramatic effect, "...history on your team that even you've never read."

The announcement raised Nate's hackles.

"Is she Moreau's mother?" he asked flatly- he was tired of playing games and growing increasingly uneasy with each revelation.

"I'm not certain, actually," Sterling answered evenly and sat back to stir his drink, "but…"

Nate felt himself still as he waited for Sterling to continue.

"…I know for a fact that she's smarter, more calculated and deadlier than he ever was." Sterling offered. "And that's not even the worst part," Sterling continued and Nate swore the little jerk was relishing this little game far too much, "if her endgame is the same as I suspect the destruction of your little band of misfits lines up perfectly with what she hopes to accomplish. You made it personal when you took down Moreau, but she was hired by some very heavy hitters to make some major power plays and she needed you and the merry men to make it so. As you can imagine, she is highly motivated and not nearly as vulnerable as your past conquests."

Nate sat back in his chair and let his head roll back for just a moment. Dammit, how the hell were they going to get out of this one?

The door handle gave with a light twist.

Sophie entered the room as softly as she could manage but Eliot was waiting, tense and battle ready as usual- on his knees, on the floor as if he's sprung up when he heard the door open.

"It's just me, Eliot," Sophie announced quietly, "I just wanted to check on you both."

Eliot exhaled his tension and sat back on his heels.

Her eyes travelled involuntarily to the little body curled up and asleep on the sofa.

"Who is he?" the words tumbled out of her mouth unable to be contained.

Eliot looked at the little boy and relaxed further- his exhaustion finally making its presence felt. He sat flat on the floor and leaned against the sofa where Joshua slept.

"He's… my job," Eliot said with a raised brow. Sophie knew he was notoriously secretive about his other clients and she knew nothing would make him say anything more.

Eliot tried to squelch a small yawn but Sophie caught the move and looked at him, finally noticing how heavy the hitter's eye lids drooped

"Eliot, you look wrecked. Get some sleep. I'll hang out here and keep an eye out in case he wakes up," she coaxed softly. Eliot looked like he was about to object when another yawn snuck up on him and Sophie sat in the chair facing him as if to offer further assurances. He nodded his thanks and eased himself flat on the hard wood in front of the sofa and fell almost instantly into a light but restful sleep.

She couldn't look at first. She didn't allow herself the luxury, but the compulsion grew as the quiet of the room surrounded her. It wasn't possible- the small voice in the back of her thoughts purred again. It was the same voice that always snatched her back from hope, away from the small joy the lived in the possibility of another reality than the one in which she lived.

She let herself have the moment; just one little 'what if'.

She looked at Joshua, seeing nothing but the thick, black, unruly waves that covered the back of his small head. She took her fill of looking at him, his tiny body rising and falling as he breathed. She found it fascinating- and soon her own breathing mirrored his.

In…out…in…out…in…

Pristine white hallways and dizzyingly bright overhead lights…Intense pain…a baby's muffled cry…

Eliot's solid grip on her shoulder shook her away from the dream and as the images faded and her consciousness grew her gaze locked with Joshua's and she stopped breathing.

"Are you okay?" Eliot asked her, kneeling close enough for her to feel his breath on her face but she couldn't answer him. She couldn't take her eyes away from the small silver blue eyes staring intently at her from across the room. Eyes filled with so much intensity for someone so young; they held her captive.

"Sophie," Eliot called again, "breath," he ordered and she gasped and startled out of her trance.

Sophie stood to leave. The room was suddenly too small, too dark- but Nate's entrance impeded her escape.

"Soph…" he called, his voice low with intimate concern. He reached out to touch her arms and steady her, "what's wrong?"

She looked up into his face and saw his silver blue eyes looking at her lovingly. It was her undoing. It's not possible, the small voice nagged but Sophie was too far gone. Hope had taken root. She turned back to Joshua, his little face inspecting the scene with rapt attention.

Sophie's eyes filled instantly but they didn't release, "Nate, I…," she began softly and then turned into Nate's embrace, she had to see his face as she said it, "I think he's our son."