DISCLAIMER: As much as I'd like to, I don't own Alias or it's characters. It is the property of ABC, Touchstone and Bad Robot Productions.
SUMMARY: Hush little baby...
For CQ's challenge so note: This story goes backwards.
RATED PG-13
GENRE: Angst/Mystery
SPOILERS: This is 2nd Season AU story, that spins off just after they took down the Alliance in Phase One. Everything post the kiss didn't happen.
DISTRIBUTION: I'd rather this is not distributed anywhere without my permission. I'll put it where I want it. But you're still welcome to contact me and try to convince me that my story should be in your fine archive.

A/N: Huge thanks to Chim and Prl. For telling me when this fic makes sense, and when it doesn't ;)

CHRISTOPHER
by Aliasscape
Copyright 2003

Part 1: In the dark of dawn...

Sydney stroked a small head of white-blond hair ever so gently, singing softly. "...sleepyhead, close your eyes....mother's right here beside you...I'll protect you from harm, you will wake in my arms. ...Guardian angels are near, so sleep on, with no fear....Guardian angels are near, so sleep on, with no fear."

The small boy's chest was rising and falling steadily. He was finally asleep. She covered him with the rough green blanket, rubbing his belly a moment longer. She stared at the peaceful face of the two and half year old. She almost smiled, taking comfort in how calm he looked.

She rose and moved several paces from the cot. She stared at the small room, with peeling green wallpaper and ugly mustard colored carpeting. She sunk into a seat on the floor, unable to stop the tears that filled her eyes. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself. What had she done to their lives? They could have been in Europe.

Why did she think she was better off protecting him on her own? It wouldn't have been so horrible to live in a house with guards, even with Sark, if it meant protection. But it meant moving with little notice. Leaving where she had finally found herself comfortable. Severing ties that she had just reformed after all this time.

She wiped her wet face and looked into the child's face again. "We're going to be okay. I promise." She pulled her knees to her chest and put her head down. But she was still awake when the boy suddenly tensed and whimpered in his sleep. She climbed into the bed, resituating the blanket around both of them and hugging the child close to her. She sighed, but before she closed her eyes, she whispered three words softly.

"I'm sorry, Christopher."

9 hours earlier
It didn't feel empty.

It was as if they had gone on vacation and would return shortly. The air conditioning was still set to cycle on and off. There were still dishes in the cupboard and even the sink. The refrigerator was full of food. Plants sat by windows with their curtains pulled back and still required watering. There were toy cars and video tapes of animated movies scattered across the living room.

He headed into her bedroom. There were still clothes on hooks and in drawers. The bed was neatly made. Her perfumes, make-up, jewelry all still sat on the top of her dresser. Her shoe collection spilled out of the closet. The room still smelled like her.

It didn't seem possible that she had just left. He expected her to enter the house again and any moment with groceries, or dry cleaning. Instead, there was nothing for him. Not even a note to say goodbye.

He exited her room and walked into first door on the right. He a deep breath before he pushed into the next room. A half finished Lego tower in the middle of the floor looked as though it had been abandoned only moments before. Stuffed animals lay beside the single bed with a comforted . A plastic drill and hammer sat on the hard plastic child's work bench in the corner.

He sat down on the bed and looked around the room. It had never looked so comfortable before. But it was easy to see why the boy loved it there. Or rather, why he had loved it. It didn't seem likely this room would ever be used again.

He stood up, leaving the room undisturbed. He would make it safe for them to come back. And then, he would find them.

13 Hours Earlier
The sun streaming in the windows right into Sydney's bedroom refused to be ignored, despite the ten minutes she had before her alarm would actually be going off. She attempted to breathe in deeply, but realized there was weight on her stomach. She squinted down at the small head of white hair, resting on her so peacefully.

She stroked the hair gently. "Hey," she said softly, not wanting to startle him. "It's time to get up."

He rolled over, rubbing his eyes. He yawned and stretched like a baby bear. His round blue eyes opened. He looked over at her and grinned sleepily. "Mama." She sat up and he reached out and wrapped his arms around her neck.

"We have to get ready if we're going to be on time today," she informed him as she climbed out of bed. She held him back so he could look her in the eye.

"Daddy?" he asked, hopefully.

Sydney nodded, slowly. Absently. "Yes, today we'll go see Daddy." She smiled, sadly, then headed down the hallway towards the kitchen with him padding behind her.

She was unfastening him from his car-seat two hours later. He hopped out of the car while keeping a tight grip on her hand. She held two small bouquets in her opposite hand. She closed the car door behind them and they started across the cemetery. It looked so healthy and green. The sky was a perfect blue. She glanced down at him. He was getting used to this. He no longer mistook it for a playground in which he got to run around. He didn't pull away from her hand at all.

"First stop," she said, gently. They halted and she released his hand long enough to lay down her first bouquet. She brushed off stray leaves and glass clippings from the gravestone.

"Danny," the boy said, pointing and Sydney nodded. He watched her finished clearing around the gravestone respectfully, then tugged at her shirt. "Daddy?" he asked hopefully.

She realized he was still too young to be expected to wait very long. She stood up, took his hand and they started up the gravel path through the cemetery. He pointed out all the flowers and bugs along the way. "Bird? Bird!" he exclaimed with the most excitement.

They came to stop at a second plot and Sydney placed her second bouquet. She ran her fingers across the curves of the letters that spelled out "Michael Vaughn." Then, she rose and stepped back. The boy surprised her when he stepped up to the stone. He kissed the top of it and then looked back at her waiting for her reaction.

Sydney blinked back tears at the child's small gesture. She nodded at him approvingly, knelt down and hugged him. He wriggled out of the embrace after only a few seconds, his eyes lighting up.

"Daddy!" he exclaimed, running towards a figure sheltered in the shade of a tree. Sydney turned slowly, watching Sark scoop the boy into his arms and move out of the trees.

"I can take him for a walk if you would like more time," Sark offered.

Sydney glanced back at the grave. "I've learned that no matter how long I spend here, it won't ever seem like enough time." She stepped away from the plot.

"How's he been?" Sark questioned, nodding to the boy.

Sydney looked thoughtful. "Better. Fewer nightmares. He's got a great appetite. He says something new everyday."

"And you?" Sark questioned.

Sydney rubbed her arms as though chilled. "Better," she said with a half-hearted smile. "Fewer nightmares, better appetite." More honestly, she continued, "Having him to focus on--it helps."

Sark ruffled the boy's hair and smirked. The child giggled.

Sydney laughed lightly. "So, I'll see you two back here in a couple hours."

Sark's expression immediately became more serious. "Sydney, we need to talk."

Sydney stiffened. "About what?" she asked, cautiously. It had been over a month since they'd last spoken. It was always that long between visits, but he usually at least called more often than that.

Sark repositioned his son upon his shoulders. "I want you both to come with me."

"Come with you, where?"

"To my house in London."

Sydney frowned at him. "Our home is here. He's finally starting to adjust. We're not going to move now."

"Sydney, that is not a decision for you to arbitrarily make."

A hurt look passed over her eyes. She reached up and grabbed the boy down from his shoulders. "You come by once a month, and spend a few hours with him. You really have no idea what he's like, what his life is like. How can you be sure this is the right thing to do right now?"

"It will be safer, for both of you," Sark insisted.

Sydney hugged the child closer. "Last visit, you said things were fine. That you were making major progress. Now, it's suddenly not safe." She turned to leave.

"Sydney!" Sark protested. "You knew when we started this arrangement, it wouldn't last forever."

She spun back around to look at him. "It hasn't been forever. It's been a year! One year. What changed?"

Sark held out a folder to her. She didn't even reach for it, but she scanned the page he'd opened it to with her eyes. "You want us to move over this? Is that even about me?"

"I don't have confirmation, but I believe that it is."

"When you get confirmation, you let me know," she responded.

"Whether you are willing to come or not, I plan on taking him," he nodded towards the child, "with me before I leave tonight. I'm not willing to take risks with him. And it surprises me that you are. Especially after everything's that happened."

Sydney gave him a debating frown. "What time tonight?"

"Midnight."

She nodded. "He'll be ready."

"Just him?" Sark questioned, with a raised eyebrow.

Sydney stiffened. "I guess you'll see when you get there tonight."

___
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