Chapter 2: It Could Always Be Worse

Disclaimer: Nope, Alias isn't mine.

A/N: Hope ya'll are enjoying this!

"What could they possibly have now?" Sydney wondered aloud.

Alone on a CIA jet, they should have been trying to catch a few hours sleep, but a mutual case of field related insomnia plagued them instead.

"Whatever it is, it can't be worse than…" Vaughn began.

"Don't even say that," Sydney cut in. "We both honestly thought Nadia was harmless, and now she and Sloane are God knows where doing heaven only knows what. Probably hundreds of people died trying to put together the Telling. I got arrested by the FBI because of the Prophecy." Sydney ticked off points on her fingers. "Trust me, this could always be worse."

Vaughn looked at her for a moment, then nodded.

"Don't forget the cube," he said, a crooked grin on his face.

Sydney grinned back, even though it was far from funny. It had taken a lot of work, loud arguments, and passionate nights, but they were finally back on a plane where they could laugh together at the satirically ironic as well as the funny.

Less than thirty seconds, and already it was clear a guard was posted at every corner in the dark, gloomy, concrete walled corridor. At least, there was at every corner Sydney and Vaughn turned.

The worst part was, they couldn't simply plug the sons-of-bitches full of holes, because gunfire would bring a probable hundred armed attackers upon them in seconds.

From the tentative map they'd memorized, there were only five more corners to round before coming to the passageway where the room, estimated to hold the artifact and be roughly eight feet across, was tucked, deep inside the compound.

Of course, if they managed to sneak up behind the guards, disposing of them was simple. A few moments of proper pressure in the right spot of his throat, and he was out. Sydney and Vaughn's luck, as they moved with absolute stealth, held out until they were nearly at the door of the room.

They froze when the heavy steel door swung open, and a heavily armed man walked out. As he moved to lock the door, he saw Sydney and Vaughn. He reached for the gun holstered as his hip, but Sydney and Vaughn had theirs already drawn. One shot from Sydney and the guard fell.

Rushing forward and tugging at the heavy door, Sydney hissed unnecessarily, "This is the room!"

With Vaughn's help, the door swung fully open and they rushed in, anxious to escape before reinforcements responded to the gunshot. Sydney paused just inside the door to look around. The room was bare but for a metal cot with a thin mattress, with a little girl huddled on the cot with a grilled cheese sandwich and a disposable cup of some drink on a plastic tray.

"He said I could eat first," the little girl, who couldn't have been more than three, cried in horror. "He promised!"

Memories spun before Sydney's mind's eye. Pictures hanging around her childhood home, before her mother's disappearance. A four-year-old Sydney in pigtails. A three-year-old kneeling by the Christmas tree in pajamas, hair wild. A school picture. And then the child in front of her came back into focus.

They could easily have been the same child.

"Sydney?" Vaughn hissed anxiously. "Are you okay? We have to get out of here."

"She's the artifact," Sydney murmured.

"Do we take her, then?" he muttered back.

Sydney manufactured a smile and tucked away her gun. If she didn't know better, she would have thought the child was deliberately ignoring the firearm.

"Come here, sweetie, " she said gently. "You need to come with us."

The little girl shrank away and looked confused by Sydney's tone.

"What are you?" she asked.

"What am I?"

"What are you going to make me do?"

"Uh…" Sydney was thoroughly confused. "We're going to keep you safe, sweetie."

"He said I could eat first." The little girl's voice wavered only slightly.

Sydney looked to Vaughn, who only shrugged. Reluctantly, Sydney scooped up the child, who kicked and fought like a little hellion.

"Let's go," she said to Vaughn, then grunted as her little captive's foot connected solidly.

"Got her?" Vaughn asked, closing the metal door behind them and starting off at a jog.

"Yes," Sydney growled through gritted teeth as she struggled to keep hold of the child but not to hurt her. She picked up her pace as much as she could.

"They've got the child!" a voice at the far end of the corridor yelled.

"Go!" Vaughn said quickly. "Get her out. I'll hold them off!"

The little girl stilled when the sound of gunfire erupted behind them. She knew only that the sound meant someone was unhappy, and when people were unhappy, people got hurt.

All Sydney knew was that the terrified child was no longer digging nails and teeth and feet and fists into any part of her she could reach.

After a brisk run through the woods--and the Calling had thought them a protective barrier--Sydney ducked into the hiding spot she and Vaughn had agreed on earlier. With no comms, they'd agreed to meet up in a particularly close stand of trees, the effect of which was a space unseen by anyone outside the stand.

It was several minutes before she realized the little girl was looking around, a mixture of fear and wonder on her face.

"What's wrong?" Sydney asked, trying not to let her worry for Vaughn slip into her voice.

"The trees are real," she whispered. "I'm not supposed to be out here."

Sydney was thoroughly confused, but thought to let it go for later inspection.

"What's your name, sweetie?" she asked calmly.

"Kelly."

"Do you know your last name, Kelly?"

"I don't gots one." Kelly was becoming more comfortable with her new captor by the second. She didn't threaten her like the others did. "I asked one of the Calling once, and he said they only gave me Kelly so I would respond to something other than 'hey kid'," she said proudly.

"The Calling?" What, Sydney wondered, would a three-year-old possibly know about the Calling?

"Yep."

Kelly didn't appear to be very afraid of the members of the Calling, and Sydney didn't much care to instill that fear in her just then. She worded her questions carefully.

"How long did you stay with those people?"

Kelly looked surprised.

"Forever," she said. "They think I don't hear them, but I do. I'm the Chosen One," she declared. "That sounds important, huh?"

"Yes," Sydney mumbled, confusion clouding her ability to converse with the child. "It sounds very important."

Ah, yes, that does sound important, doesn't it? Now, who would give them an idea like that?