Chapter Text
The next week was complete torture in Rachel’s opinion. She was worried about Sark. She knew he could easily go off the deep end of rage and get into serious trouble. Or he could be so hurt by their son and not come home again. She didn’t want to spend more years without him.
That was how 3 days in Trevor found his mother on the family room floor digging through a small box. He groaned, “this isn’t a bunch of baby photos like Grandma and Grandpa have, is it?”
Rachel smiled. “Not alot but I do think you’ll be interested in these.”
“Don’t we have enough albums on the shelf?”
“Just look.”
Trevor rolled his eyes but plopped down next to her. He noticed it was a combination safe, not a cardboard box. Why...? But then she handed him a pile.
“We don’t have much because of safety reasons but this is what I have of your dad.”
Trevor inhaled sharply. He was still mad at this british stranger but he had been thinking alot the last few days. “I always thought you were so mad you got rid of everything.”
“No, we just hid these incase someone found out about you.”
He thumbed through the small stack. There really wasn’t alot before the age of 8 but what was there rocked the boy’s insides. On top was a grainy photo, obviously from an old camera phone, of his mom and Sark sitting on a hospital bed. She was holding tiny Trevor bundled up. Despite the horrific bruising on both adults they looked happy.
“Some very bad people took us before you were born,” she began. “Julian, he tried to keep them off of me but they still hurt me just to taunt him. We didn’t have the most normal relationship, I hadn’t even gotten to tell him I was pregnant. But... Even in the worst moments when he had a broken arm and I was having complications, he still helped deliver you. Then my team found us.”
The next few photos varied. Some of Rachel holding the baby, tired but smiling. And some of Sark holding him. One she had captured the man didn’t even know about. They were asleep on the couch, he curled around the infant.
Who knew this horrible terrorist and assassin would be a softie for a baby?
She giggled at one of him and a toddler-aged Trevor running through a field. There were also a few of just the couple together. One of them kissing, completely unaware of the photo (the boy made a face at that). One of Sark trying to teach Rachel piano. There was a beautiful cliff and he now understood the hike they took.
Then Trevor flipped to another one, towards the bottom of the pile. “What’s this?”
Rachel unfolded it and sighed, tears in her eyes. “I carried this with me for weeks after your father left. I knew exactly why he had to but I still missed him. I finally put it away just so no one could find it.”
It was one of the young blonde as he stood in front of a ferris wheel at what Trevor assumed was a county fair or park. He was smiling so brightly his eyes light up, grey t-shirt, jeans, and a badge pass around his neck. She never thought she’d seen him so happy before.
What she didn’t know was Sark had a black & white shot of her sleeping that he’d hidden in the lining of his coat.
“Is this just to convince me to like him again?” he asked quietly.
“No,” Rachel answered. “I just - Honey, Julian’s done some very bad things. Was conditioned from a young age to enjoy....killing for profit. I’ve never excused that at all. But something changed. It was like a light clicked on. I think with you and I he found something normal he could have and be happy for. Not just this trained monster.”
And she wanted that for Sark. She knew he’d never stop his job, just as she wouldn’t, but she had seen the shift happening.
“The point is even with all those bad things, he didn’t leave by choice. We didn’t want you to be like us and have this job. And he g-gave up the one conventional thing he had for your sake. I still love him, can't help it. Just give him a chance and get to know him again.”
Rachel wiped her eyes, rubbed Trevor’s shoulder, and left the room so he could process. She hoped he’d remember all the good times.
The 14 year old exhaled hard. What the hell do I do? he wondered.
The next day Trevor sat at the piano trying to concentrate. He needed to learn this for his next recital. But he couldn’t stop thinking of those photos. He thought his mom was just trying to get him to like this guy again but the kid was smart. He’d seen exactly what she meant. His father was a trained killer and even though he left, he had a legitimate reason.
He sighed, slamming down on the keys. There was something else nagging at his brain. A memory he thought was conjured from the pictures but when he flipped through it wasn’t there. This was a real memory.
He couldn’t have been more than 4 years old. It was late at night but he’d heard music drifting through the house quietly. Creeping down the stairs he stopped and saw his parents. He didn’t know why at that age, but they’d been slow dancing in the middle of the livingroom.
Foreheads pressed together and soft kisses. Rachel sighed and smiled at Julian. “I’m glad you’re back in time.”
“Me too, Sweetheart.” He stroked a hand through her hair.
“What is it?”
“I’m happy.” And the young man sounded so surprised.
“So are we,” she answered referring to herself and their son.
“There’s small footsteps on the stairs,” he whispered.
She grinned, looking over his shoulder to see the toddler watching them. “What’re you doing up, Honey? It’s very late for little boys.”
“Heard music,” Trevor mumbled running up to them. He stopped a few feet away and looked on curiously. “What you doin’?”
“This is how you properly court a lady,” Julian answered, accent thicker.
When the small boy looked back confused, Rachel laughed.
He glared lightly and crouched down infront of their son. “Your Mummy makes Daddy feel like a sap.”
Even more confusion and now an eyebrow crinkle. Julian laughed and scooped the boy into his arms, tickling him. The little boy giggled loudly.
“Daddy just means we’re happy to have you and our little family.” Rachel pressed a kiss to Trevor’s hair before gently kissing Julian.
He sighed wrapping his arms around the best things he’d ever had....
Trevor gasped as he returned from the memory. He had to fix this. Even if his father had done horrible things, they’d been a real family once. And those 2 weeks he’d been here again, Rachel was truly happy again for the first time.
He groaned, already preparing to call his uncle Eric.
But as it turned out there was no reason....
Two nights later Rachel was washing dishes. Trevor had gone to bed awhile ago. Dinner was good but they could tell both of them were lost in thought.
Suddenly she dropped the plate she’d been drying, the dish clattering in the sink. A searing pain tore through her temple, wrapping around her right ear bone. Not this again. Her hearing aid emitted a high-pitched whine and she gasped, grabbing at it.
It wasn’t the first time this had happened but it hurt like hell.
Being distracted, her spy reflexes failed to notice the person approaching. As strong arms wrapped around her middle she gave a soft yelp. Her will to fight battled with the pain in her head.
But then there was lips against her temple and she felt the soft whisper of “Lydia.”
No her mind was playing tricks because of the pain.
But it was true. She knew those strong hands and chest as she leaned back into him. Sark reached up, moving her long hair back, and gently unclipped the device from her ear and shut it off. Setting it aside, his fingers trailed up her neck and carefully began to massage the spot just behind her ear. As well as pressing kisses to her neck.
Like he’d done a million times before when they were together.
She always wondered how hands that killed so easily could be so sweet.
But now it didn’t matter. The man she loved was finally home. She turned in his arms, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. Trying to use the overwhelming emotions to fight off the physical pain.
Looking up at Sark, Rachel noticed a bruise forming on his jaw as well as faded ones from the last attack. Leaning up to kiss the mark, she inhaled happily. “Bob. You’re back.”
His fingers kept moving gently around her ear while his other hand wrapped around her hip. Maybe it always belonged there. “I’m home now.” And he was. He couldn’t stand to be separated from them anymore. His family.
“Dad?” a voice asked from the doorway.
Rachel looked over when Sark moved and smiled, reading the word clearly.
Trevor stood rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Sark felt tears well up and he beamed softly at her while he raised his arm. “I’m glad you’re home, Dad,” he told him as both parents hugged their son tightly.
No matter what happened, or where their lives as a spy, assassin, and their son led, no one was leaving anymore.