Title: Homesick
Author: ThePaperLantern
Summary: Sark's thoughts about Sydney during his two-year incarceration.
A/N: This is my first 'Alias' fic. Any con-crit would be sincerly appreciated.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The monotonous rhythm of dripping water was the only sound that penetrated through the silence of the cell. It's lone inhabitant scoffed at the absurdity of the situation: He, Julian Sark, assassin extraordinaire, was currently residing in a dark, musty CIA cell and instead of plotting how to make his grand escape, he was thinking about the recent death of Agent Bristow.
Sydney.
Sark sighed and wearily ran a hand across his face. He leaned back against the cold stone wall, his icy blue eyes staring at the ceiling of the small cell. He shuddered internally as he remembered the day he had found out about Sydney's unexpected death.
Agents Jack Bristow and Eric Weiss walked quietly into the room. Sark looked up at them and despite the fact that he was absolutely miserable being in that wretched cell, his face was decorated with a mocking smirk.
"What can I do for you, gentlemen?" he asked, curious as to why Agent Vaughn wasn't there. He was, after all, the one who usually handled his interrogations.
"We need information," said Bristow, his face, unsurprisingly, hard and stony. What struck Sark as strange, however, was that the usually cheerful Weiss also looked strangely despondent and cold. Sark raised his eyebrows, at the two men's serious, border lining morbid, demeanors but wisely chose not to comment.
"What can you tell us about Allison, the woman who was doubled to look like Francie Calfo." A look of surprise cross Sark's face before he quickly regained his composure.
"Why are you interested in a dead woman?" he asked quietly, still hurt over the recent death of the woman he thought he had loved.
"That is none of your concern," said Bristow tersely. "Need I remind you that if you chose not to comply, we will revoke your pardon agreement?"
Sark's face remained impassive. After a brief moment of hesitation, he asked, "What would you like to know?"
"Was there anyone who would want her dead? Someone who would go through an awful lot of trouble to eliminate her?" Weiss finally spoke, his voice uncharacteristically hoarse.
"Other than your daughter," said Sark, looking at Jack, "And other CIA agents, I don't know." There were undoubtedly others who wanted Allison dead but Sark chose to keep that information to himself. However, at his mention of the younger Agent Bristow, Sark realized that he hadn't seen her in quiet a while. He found it strange, not seeing her. While he didn't expect her to visit him to reminisce about their previous encounters, he at least thought she'd show up to interrogate or threaten him. As strange as it was, Sark had very much looked forward to being interrogated by Agent Bristow.
"Are you sure?" asked Weiss, snapping Sark out of his thoughts. The blonde assasin nodded his head, confused as to the sudden interest over Allison's death and curious about Sydney's whereabouts. Before he could inquire as to their investigation, Jack Bristow turned and left without another word. Weiss, however, remained behind.
"Why the sudden interest?" he asked Weiss.
Weiss hesitated before he spoke. "It's classified information." He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead turned to go after Bristow.
"Where's Sydney?" asked Sark, surprising both himself and Weiss.
Weiss' shoulders tensed. He slowly turned around, his eyes filled with pain. After what felt like an eternity to Sark, he finally said, in an almost inaudible whisper, "She's dead."
Sark was vaguely aware of Weiss saying something else and then quickly leaving but he couldn't concentrate on any of it. He kept repeating Weiss' words over and over in his head, "She's dead. She's dead. She's dead."
Sark snapped himself out of his reverie and shook his head to clear away the thoughts and memories of Sydney Bristow. As much as he hated to admit it, her death hurt him, more so than Allison's. It frightened him. The realization that he actually cared about Syd-Agent Bristow frightened him so much that most days he tried to forget about her.
Only he couldn't.
He would spend hours remembering the anger and determination that would flash in her eyes during a fight, the full lips that were so often pursed in concentration, the strong jaw and cheekbones, the mesmerizing curves of her gorgeous body. But more than anything, he would remember her smile, a smile so bright and beautiful that it lit up her entire face and tugged at his heartstrings.
He knew he shouldn't be thinking about her, but there was nothing he could do about it. No matter how hard he tried to forget about her, he couldn't. He wasn't stupid enough to think that he loved her, but he certainly couldn't deny the fact that he harbored some type of feelings for her. Love? No. Hatred? Definitely not. Lust? Of course. Attraction? Possibly.
Sark sighed. He desperately wanted to rid himself of those thoughts, to be able to close his eyes without seeing his face flash in his mind. He growled in frustration. Why couldn't she just leave him alone? She was always interrupting his plans when she was alive, always there when she wasn't wanted, and now it seemed that even with death, she would continue to haunt him.
Damn her.
A/N: For now, this is a one-shot, but I might add another chapter depicting Sark's reaction to seeing Sydney alive. Reviews are always appreciated!