Disclaimer: No, I do not own Alias or U2. I do own this story and its original characters. And yes, it contains a Julian Sark way out of character.

Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own

Tough, you think you've got the stuff
You're telling me and anyone
You're hard enough

"Excuse me, but I think I'm capable of taking care of myself". Sark said with a dead voice and replaced my hand from his chest onto the bed. I raised my hand and stroke my thumb over his cheek. Left my fingers trail of into his short blond hair. He would leave now, stand up from the bed, put his clothes on and walk out of the door. He always did that when I got too emotional. But so far he has always returned to me.

You don't have to put up a fight
You don't have to always be right
Let me take some of the punches
For you tonight

I know countless people look upon him and see a different person than I do. They see a cold-hearted terrorist, I see man I love. The man who's always torn to pieces inside when he reaches me. Sometimes he cries, it's not often but it happens. I hold him when he can't stoop shaking and whisper my love in his ear. Sometimes his physically wounded as well as psychology.

He doesn't like to be vulnerable; he only comes to me when there is no other way for him to keep together. He never lets me know what's going on inside his head. Only tells me small pieces of everyday information. Like that an agent called Sydney Bristow wants him dead. But oh, how I wish that he would let me in deep. That I could share his pain and take some of it on myself. At least for the night, because when the morning comes he always leaves.

Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don't have to go it alone

I wish he would stay forever. He's probably, even though I never get to hear about it, been deeply wounded in his childhood. But that doesn't mean he have to go through life like this.

I try to tell him that I want him forever by my side, that I would love helping him back to normal life. But every time I do he gets up and leaves. I think he's scared I might betray him.

So he goes back into the world of espionage and terrorism. He leaves me fearing for his life, he's always been so self-destructible. I hate it every time he leaves, but I can't stop telling him that I love him and that I want to care for him.

And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you when I don't pick up the phone
Sometimes you can't make it on your own

I probably seem silly to you. Always waiting for him to contact me. Waking up in the middle of the night from a nightmare about his death, always seeing his eyes when I look in my mirror the next morning. Not a day passes buy without me thinking about him.

I can't imagine living without him. I need him as much as he needs me. And maybe it's ridicules that I always run to answer my phone, thinking it's him. Always thinking every missed call was from him. But, hey, at least I know love and you know what they say: Love is all you need.

We fight all the time
You and I...that's alright
We're the same soul
I don't need...I don't need to hear you say
That if we weren't so alike
You'd like me a whole lot more

He would probably like me a whole lot better if I was one of his usual little tramps. Someone who never saw through him, only smiled and let him do her.

Well, I'm not like that. I'm every bit his intellectual equal. And it's to me he comes for support; it's me he takes in his arms and holds the night thru. I'm the one who he kisses with feeling, the one he makes love to with his heart in it. That has to count for something; even thou our meeting always end with us fighting and him leaving. If you could call our discussions fighting, that is. I beg him to let me care for him, but by that time he's so put together and collected. He makes some cold comments and leaves.

Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don't have to go it alone

But if he really could care for himself, why must I always pick up the pieces of him?

I know it would be hard for us to be together. Lots of people seek revenge upon him. I'm in no way stupid; I'm willing to accept that kind of life. I don't have anyone in the world that I couldn't leave behind for him, no one I haven't already left behind. My precious Julian.

Sometimes I break down and cry. I know he has tramps all over the world waiting for him. He told me so himself. He just throws it in my face and tries to make me stop loving him. Because he can't stand it, but he can't resist it either. But around an hour after such a confessions he also confesses, whit his face hidden in my neck, that they don't mean shit to him. That he cares about none as he cares for me. But he's still too afraid to let me in.

Oh Julian, you don't have to be alone.

And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you when I don't pick up the phone
Sometimes you can't make it on your own

I know I couldn't make it without him. He knows he couldn't make it without me. I installed an answering machine on my homophone and activated the one on my cell phone just to be sure I never missed one of his calls. Like he ever would leave a message on an answering machine.

A door in my bedroom leads straight into my bathroom. Over the sink is a large mirror who reflects the bed in the bedroom. In the mornings that he's here I look up from the task of washing my face and find myself starring at his beautiful face. It's always him. I never let another man sleep in my bed and I will never se someone else's face in my bathroom mirror.

I know that we don't talk
I'm sick of it all
Can - you - hear - me - when - I -
Sing, you're the reason I sing
You're the reason why the opera is in me...

He's impossible to argue with, leaves before we even have got started. He never let's me in. I don't know what have scared him so deeply. I'm the one who fears for his life when he's out there risking it. He thinks I should be grateful for what he gives me but I want more. He's the reason I'm singing this tune, playing this game. I hide from the CIA and all the others who would think out ways to use me against him. And what do I get in return?

Where are we now?
I've still got to let you know
A house still doesn't make a home
Don't leave me here alone...

I want all of him, I want his love. But I not sure our relationship will ever change. I'm not even sure what kind of relationship we have now. I live in this house, under a faked name and that's what this house is without him. A false home, an empty house. When he leaves, he takes my heart with him.

And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you that makes it hard to let go
Sometimes you can't make it on your own
Sometimes you can't make it
The best you can do is to fake it
Sometimes you can't make it on your own

I know he seems unbreakable to those who aren't me. Sydney Bristow sees a man without remorse. Jack Bristow sees a cruel bastard. Irina Derekovo sees a robotic boy. Michael Vaughn sees a sociopath. The list goes on and on… but I know it's all fake. It's play pretend. Even Mr Sark needs someone who catches him when he falls. And he falls.