Golden Child Sydney has finally reached a new level of happiness in her life: Her first baby. But what if the baby she longed to hold for nine long months is the force behind the complete change in the man she loves, and the result of a brief lapse in judgment?

Chapter 3: Brass Knuckles

Disclaimer #1: I don't, nor did or will I ever, own any aspect of Alias. All recognizable characters and plot strands belong to JJ Abrams, not to me.

Disclaimer #2: The basis for this is not mine, either. It originally belonged to Aiden Burn. See Chapter 1.

Disclaimer #3: I'm a die-hard S/V shipper. Please don't shoot me. This fic is Sarkney, and the particular scene Aiden Burn laid out caught my imagination. It was by no fault of my own, the story simply possessed my pen. And my keyboard.

He sees Vaughn leave the room, presumably for a snack. It is getting dark outside, long shadows stretching ominously across the room from the westward window. This time he removes the surgical mask as he enters the room, hoping to relate a lack of desire to fool her anymore.

Her voice is low, almost inaudible as she speaks.

"You shouldn't be here, Julian."

"Shouldn't I?" he asks, a proud smile crossing his face as he looks down at the tiny baby in his blanket lined plastic bed, waving his arms around. He looks back to Sydney. "He's mine."

"Don't you dare…" Sydney begins, looking ready to jump out of bed and pummel him.

"I'm sorry," Sark says, a genuine apology in his voice that stills Sydney's fury into confusion. "I didn't mean to imply that I stake a claim to the child. I meant my fatherhood only as a biological fact." A quick glance at the squirming child, and Sark makes a snap decision, choosing not to analyze the origins of it. "May I hold him?"

"What?" Sydney snarls, hardly believing what she's hearing.

"May I hold him," Sark says again, looking directly at her and making no move toward the baby.

Sydney softens after a moment, unsure if it's because of Sark's unthreatening demeanor or because of some misplaced desire to see him love the child he fathered.

"You will anyway," she says, leaning back against her pillows and trying to maintain a surly demeanor of her own.

Sark takes this as the closest thing to a "yes" as he's going to get and leans over the plastic basinet.

"Hello, Jules," Sark says softly, surprising even himself. "Do you know who I am?" he asks as he carefully picks up the tiny child and cradles him close to his chest. "I'm your daddy."

"You're his father," Sydney snaps. "There's a difference." Her eyes are fierce. Sark has an urge to cringe; he doesn't want Sydney to feel this way.

"Understood," Sark says. He wishes to say more, but he hears Vaughn in the hall. He doesn't care to run the risk of Vaughn finding him in the room, let alone holding the baby. "Take care of him, Sydney," he says, laying the child protectively in her arms instead of back in his bed.

Then he slips the mask back on and strides out of the room as if he has a purpose and a specific destination in mind.

Sydney awakes from a light sleep and at first pass her mouth feels dry. Her eyes blink open as she realizes her hands are tied together with a spare piece of plastic tubing. She sees Vaughn and calls out to him in panic.

"Mmmph!"

With a start she realizes she's been gagged. Someone's trying to kill her, may be even her baby. But Vaughn never turns around from his position over the baby's bed.

But that's wrong. Why is she gagged and tied? Why is Vaughn standing over baby Julian now?

Even as the thoughts run through Sydney's mind, Vaughn turns his head to look at her over his shoulder, and she sees a pillow in his hand. She watches in horror as he presses the pillow into her baby's bed.

"Mmmmfuh!" she cries, scrambling to get up and discovering her ankles are tied in the same manner as her hands. Normally, the binds would be easy work for her, but Sydney quickly finds that the lingering effects of pain medicine makes working one's fingers in a hurry doesn't come easy.

Tears stream down her face and she chokes on the wash cloth in her mouth as the sobs rack her body.

No, no, no, she thinks, moving her head from side to side helplessly as her body begins to shake, betraying her.

He can't breathe, she thinks, rocking back and forth. He'll die…He's killing him…

, she thinks, rocking back and forth.

And then Vaughn is falling. Sydney sees Sark hit him, the blow catching him under the chin and snapping his head back as he falls. The expression on Sark's face in unlike anything she's seen from him before.

Sark lands a single knockout punch with a strength born of an attachment he didn't know himself capable of.

With a quick stoop to check that the baby is okay, though upset, Sark moves to untie Sydney.

"Feel like a walk?" he asks, looking over his shoulder with a hurried intensity and pulling the gag from her mouth.

"My baby," she gasps, pulling away from Sark's attempts to free her. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Sark says, leaving Sydney to untie her ankles while he carefully bundles the baby up and pulls him from his bed.

"What are you doing? Stop! Don't touch him!" Sydney cries, shakily pushing herself to her feet in protest.

Sark cradles their baby in his arms and looks at her for a moment, pining her in place with steely eyes.

"You're barely able to stand on your own," Sark says finally. "I'll carry our son. Can you walk?"

Sydney pauses at Sark's matter-of-fact tone.

"I haven't forgotten what you did to me," she says finally, her eyes narrowing. "Don't believe for one second that I trust you now. But I know when to accept help, and, for whatever reason, I believe you're the only one offering to help me at the moment." Her voice carries a note of defeat, and Sark wonders if her speech is merely to buy time for her legs to quit shaking so violently.

His head is pounding. Or, more specifically, one side of his jaw hurts like hell, and he has a lump on the back of his head he figures is roughly the color of an eggplant.

"Aw, damn!" Vaughn shoots to his feet, remembering how he wound up on the floor and seeing no one in the room now. How long has he been out?

He is furious now, his desire to punish the bitch who had Sark's baby even greater. Because after being slugged in the jaw by one and the same, he has no doubt that the bastard is the father.

Vaughn cannot believe Sark dared to come near his fiancé. Near him. Near the child that by all rights should be his.

Vaughn will make them both pay now. Sark thought he did a number on him to get Lauren's location? Wait until he gets a hold of that bastard now! And that baby…that baby will be the first to go, so that they can both see it.

I'm even intrigued by Vaughn's complete breakdown, and I'm writing it! Lol. I'm enjoying this, I don't know why, but review, please! I'll worry about my runaway plot bunnies later…