Disclaimer: Alias belongs to JJ Abrams, ABC and the people at Bad Robot

Rating: R, for language and sexual themes in future chapters

Pairing: Sydney/Sark, suggested Sydney/Vaughn and Sark/Lauren

Summary: When Sydney makes the fatal mistake of trusting Sark with a gun in Man of His Word, Season 4, Sark takes the opportunity to revenge himself on Vaughn for Lauren's murder. However, after spending a prolonged time together, Sark and Sydney begin to develop feelings that neither of them anticipated.

Author's Note: An AU version of the events in Man of His Word. What might have happened had Sydney trusted Sark with a gun during the fight with Anna at the club.

Chapter: 12/14

Chapter 12- Unhappy Endings

The café Nadia finally stopped at was neither run-down, nor very remarkable. It was only a few blocks away from the airport in Havana. The sisters, so newly acquainted had driven into Havana in silence. Nadia had kept her eyes on the road, never once turning to look at Sydney. Sydney had made no attempt at conversation, leaning her elbow on the jeep door and gazing out mournfully at the Cuban countryside that went skimming by. She was overwhelmed by so many feelings- misery, guilt, betrayal and anxiousness to hear news of Vaughn, that she could find little joy in the reunion with her sister. Particularly not when the grim look on Nadia's face invited no conversation. Sydney began to realize perhaps Nadia had not been so understanding as she had immediately assumed. The news of Vaughn must be grim indeed if she had come to retrieve her 'traitorous' sister.

But as the dust blew in Sydney's eyes, she found she could not blame Nadia for any ill feelings towards her. She had done the one thing she had never thought herself capable- run away with the enemy. She had been able to condone her actions at the time, because she had truly believed she and Sark had found true love. Now she looked back and laughed bitterly at her own gullibility. To believe that the man who had carelessly set off a new age weapon outside a church of innocents, a man who had captured and tortured Will- the man who had played a large part in the murder of Francie! Her own stupidity was appalling. She had slammed her hand down on the outside of the car, angry with him, but more angry with herself.

Nadia asked for a table for two and the waitress, dressed in a checked red and white dress, led them to one with relative seclusion. They both ordered tea. The waitress left and they were left staring at each other. Sydney realized that there was very little of similarity between the sisters. They were both physically fit with sharp dark eyes, but the similarities ended there. As a whole, they didn't resemble each other at all. Nadia's hair was glossy and dark, while Sydney's hair was still dyed caramel blonde. Sydney had taken her looks from Irina, while Nadia features had a distinct echo of Arvin Sloane. But there was none of the coldness of her father or mother in Nadia. Despite her hard upbringing and original lack of morals, she had learned her lesson and was now faithful and dedicated to fighting the good fight.

Sydney herself had never had that dedication. She had always put her life on the line for the job and sacrificed her personal life a hundred times over. But she had always looked at it as a bothersome sacrifice and had longed for a normal job. Nadia looked at her job as a privilege and was much more content with her lot in life. Sydney rubbed her aching head. Nadia certainly hadn't thrown away the admiration of Eric Weiss away, while Sydney had been more than willing to toss away the love of Michael Vaughn. Thoughts of Vaughn reminded her there were more tales of Sark's betrayal to be heard, so she refocused on her sister's face.

"Nadia…" she began haltingly. "I can't ask for your forgiveness, namely because I don't deserve it. What I did was disgusting. I was taken in by one of the oldest tricks in the book…one that I have seen played out numerous times before. I knew exactly who Sark was, and what he was capable of, and I still fell for it. I was stupid enough to believe he could change for me."

"But you have to believe me when I say, I went in with the best of intentions. Sark did kidnap me, and for many weeks I resisted and attempted to escape. But eventually, I gave away to his…charms. And I'm so sorry, you have to believe me when I say that if I could erase everything I have done I would." She hesitated, hoping Nadia would say something…anything to make the dead silence less heavy.

Nadia fixed Sydney with an unreadable look. "Your sex life doesn't concern me. At all." Her voice held a definite chill in it. It wasn't exactly the reply Sydney had been looking for. The waitress came and left their tea before conversation continued. Nadia lifted the cup, and her hands were shaking. She gave up trying to take a sip as the hot liquid spilled over the rim of her cup. She slammed the mug down on the table. "Damn it, Sydney!"

Sydney shrunk back in her seat, appalled at the emotional damage she had caused to someone she loved. "Nadia…I didn't mean…I didn't think…"

"Sydney, do you realize how worried I was? How worried Vaughn was?" she demanded, tears shining in her eyes. "And all this time, you were jaunting around the globe fucking some British asshole!"

Sydney was crying now as well. "I don't know what I was thinking," she pleaded. "I'll do anything to make it up to you, Nadia. You have to believe me the hurt I caused was never intentional."

Nadia scrubbed at her face, brushing away the remnants of tears. Sydney didn't bother, knowing there was no stopping the floodgate. "If you only knew what you've done…" she trailed off. Clearing her throat, she started again. "When Vaughn first reported you were missing, APO went mad. He stayed in Venice looking for you, until Sloane ordered him home. The next few weeks, no one at Headquarters did anything but look for you. I'll never forget how shaken Vaughn was those first weeks. He kept saying it was his fault, that he hadn't looked after you…that he wasn't a good boyfriend…hadn't loved you enough. He was so scared of losing you just after your relationship had recovered after Lauren."

"Orders came from the CIA. We were supposed to abandon the search, which technically wasn't a job for APO. Jack immediately left, saying he was 'unfit for duty.' He kept looking for you, while the rest of us were researching Sark's new organization…the Guild. For a while, there was nothing. And then Jack got a lead on Tai Ichiniwa, who led us to Sark's private residence in Austria. We tracked him first to Tuscany and then back to London. That was where we first realized you two had entered…a relationship of sorts. We obtained surveillance footage of you shopping with Sark on Notting hill. Your…conversation…led us to believe things weren't what they should be."

"Shortly after, Vaughn led a raid on the London mansion. But, I suppose Sark had gotten wind of it somehow. The house was abandoned. We did a thorough search of the house and found…" Nadia paused, looking at Sydney.

"More surveillance, I suppose?" she asked bitterly.

"Not exactly," Nadia said slowly. "Syd, why were you so upset when you saw me? I could tell you were distressed as soon as you left the house."

Sydney took a sip of tea before answering, not really wanting to admit she had been fooled just as easily as her father and Vaughn. "I found surveillance of the London house. Sark was talking to a man he told me was his mentor. He revealed to him that he was never in love with me. He was just seducing me to get revenge on Vaughn for Lauren's murder." The tears seemed to cease as she told Nadia the story briefly. At the moment she could only feel hot rage at Sark's trickery.

Nadia reached out and squeezed Sydney's hand. Sydney looked up, surprised to have Nadia's compassion. Her dark eyes were clearly hiding more secrets. "I wish that was the extent of his revenge, Syd," she said softly. "But there's more. He left behind an envelope addressed to Vaughn after you two had fled the London house. There were pictures in it…what looked like surveillance stills. Some were harmless enough out of context. The two of you swimming and cooking together. But there were a good deal of pictures that…Syd, he left behind pictures of you two having sex."

Syd let out a low moan, covering her mouth with her hand. "And Vaughn saw…?" she choked out, unable to go any further.

Nadia nodded. "And Jack. And Weiss. And me."

"Oh God," Sydney gasped, covering her face with her hands. "I'll kill that bastard."

"There's more," Nadia said, breathing irregular.

"More?" Sydney cried. "How could there be more?"

Nadia continued, her voice dull and listless. Sydney could tell the following tale of events gave her absolutely no pleasure. "After the raid in London, we lost both of your trails. Then suddenly, a few days ago, we got an anonymous call informing us that Tai Ichiniwa and Julian Sark could be found in Innsbruck, Austria. The call was untraceable, though Marshall did his damndest. We proceeded with caution, unsure if it was a trap. Jack, Eric and Dixon went into the house, Vaughn and I waited outside, ready to stop anyone trying to escape."

"The caller was right, Tai and Sark were there, as well as Igor Poladski. Eric killed Poladski, and then Tai shot Eric."

"Oh, God…is he all right?" Sydney asked, unable to deal with the possibility she had cost a dear friend his life.

"He's fine," Nadia assured her. "He's just going to be on crutches for a little while. Jack and Dixon don't have a scratch. Sark and Tai escaped out of a hidden exit, but Vaughn and I were waiting. I shot Tai and then…" Nadia stopped suddenly, unable to go on.

"Nadia, what happened then?" Sydney demanded, fear suddenly coursing through her such as she had never known.

"Sark shot Vaughn!" Nadia exploded, finally saying what she had travelled from Vienna to say. "Sydney, he's dying. If we don't leave immediately, you may never get to speak to him again."

Sydney slumped back in her chair, feeling as though Nadia had slapped her. "No," she whispered. "No, that's impossible. Sark wouldn't have…he couldn't have…"

"He would, could and did," Nadia said coldly. "He's a heartless son of a bitch, Syd. You can live in denial later. If you ever want to see Vaughn again we have to leave now."

"Where is he?" Sydney demanded, unaware of the tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks.

"The CIA hospital in Vienna," Nadia answered. "The doctors don't know how much time he has…he was already fading when I left. He's not fighting."

"Have you talked to anyone there?" Sydney demanded. "Is he still…alive?"

"I don't know," Nadia admitted. "I can call now, if you want."

"Do," Sydney nodded.

Nadia punched in the digits of Jack's cell phone. Time dragged on between rings, but finally Sydney heard the distinct sound of someone picking up. "Jack, its Nadia," Nadia said. "Yes, I have her…no, I don't know where Sark is. Oh, I don't think she cares right now…yes, of course." Nadia handed the phone to Sydney. "He wants to talk to you."

Sydney took the phone with shaking hands. "Sydney?" came the voice of her father. Tears sprang to Sydney's eyes for near the hundredth time.

"Daddy," she whimpered. "Oh God, I'm so sorry."

There was silence on the other end. Finally Jack spoke. "You have no idea how wonderful it is to hear your voice, baby."

"I've missed you so much," she sobbed. And she had, though she hadn't fully realized it until that moment. She wanted nothing more than to be wrapt in her father's arms, knowing he was going to make everything all right- like he always did. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"I think I can manage it," Jack said wryly. "But we can talk when you get here, Sydney. You are coming?"

"As soon as I can get a plane," she promised. "How is…how is Michael?"

"Better," Jack said, and his voice sounded hopeful. "He came around for a little bit. Weiss told him you were on your way, and the doctors say there was immediate approval after that. He's fighting again. But get here soon."

"I will," she swore. "I'll see you soon, Dad."

"I love you, Sydney," he said suddenly. "No matter what."

"I love you too," she sobbed, hanging up.

"So?" Nadia asked. "How…how is Vaughn?"

"Better, actually," Sydney said, taking a deep calming breath. "He was conscious for a little while. Eric told him I'm coming to Vienna."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Nadia grinned. "There's hope he might recover then."

"Maybe," Sydney agreed. There was a new anger in her, fighting back any despair or regret. "Look…when does the next plane leave for Austria?"

"At eight o'clock tonight," Nadia replied. "I've already got us two tickets."

"And what time is it right now?" Sydney asked.

"Three- thirty," Nadia responded.

Sydney bit her lip. "I've got plenty of time, then."

"Plenty of time for what, exactly?" Nadia asked, raising her eyebrows.

Sydney stared at her sister, trying to convey her determination. "I have to see him one more time, Nadia," she explained. "I can't ever go with closure if I don't. Can I borrow the jeep?"

Nadia struggled for a moment inwardly, then sighed in resignation. "Just make sure you come back, do you hear me?" Nadia snapped. "I'm leaving on that plane with or without you."

"Oh, trust me," Sydney said grimly, accepting the keys. "I'll be back."

She strode angrily to the jeep, thoughts swirling. Images of Vaughn and Sark seemed to swirl before her, as she cursed her stupidity and blind heart.

Vaughn stood across from her in an abandoned warehouse she looked upon as their own personal haven. He held out an old watch she recognized he always wore on his wrist. "This watch belonged to my father. It's broken now, but it used to keep perfect time. And when he gave it to me, he said you could set your heart by this watch. It stopped October 1st. The day we met."

Sark paused behind her as she sat down to a private dinner in Tuscany. "You're very beautiful, Sydney," he said suddenly. "Does Agent Vaughn ever tell you that?"

Vaughn regarded her with heated passion in a secluded corner of CIA headquarters. "You need me to tell you what, that when you're on operations I can't sleep at night, that when we're in debrief I have to force myself to remember what the hell we're supposed to be reviewing when all I want to do is kiss you."

Sark slammed her down to the ground, face contorted with rage and delivered an acute insight into her character that no man had ever been able to pick out before. "Don't you dare give me that justice bullshit. You went undercover as Julia because you were angry that Michael Vaughn had lost faith in you, just like the little boy he is. You wanted revenge. Which is exactly what you wanted when you first became a double agent for the CIA- revenge for Daniel Hecht's death!"

Vaughn, the perfect image of a high school teacher, looked at her with eyes full of sorrow. "I was so in love with you... it nearly killed me."

Sark laid a hand on her bare shoulder and smirked at her reflection. "You must admit, Sydney, we do make an extremely attractive couple"

Vaughn took her hand as they raced towards a waiting airplane he had arranged to meet them. "Even though everything's changed... some things don't... I'm not going to lose you twice."

Sark pulled her into his lap, a warm smile playing on his lips. "Don't be foolish, love," he said in a whisper. "You see, I love you. Possibly more than I have ever loved anything in my entire life. Which would make it very difficult to regret you or anything about you."

"…when you're at lowest, just know you can call me…"

"…dance with me…"

"…in Santa Barbara…"

"…you changed me…"

"…almost killed me…"

"…anything in my entire life…"

"…guardian angel…"

"…how was Vaughn?"

"…perfectly fine. Not a scratch."

Nadia's face broke through her reveries.

"Sark shot Vaughn…cold, heartless son of a bitch."

Sydney revved the engine of the jeep and took off, knowing she had very little time before she would return to Vaughn and beg for his forgiveness. She also knew she had finally made the right decision.

Sark was beginning to worry. He had returned home over an hour ago to find the house deserted. Sydney must have gone for a walk or something, he had supposed. But she had left no note or reason for her absence, meaning she had not meant to be gone long. He attempted to read a book, but his worry was beginning to eat away at him. He checked the phone for messages for the third time, and found none. Having a sudden brainwave, he checked to see who the last caller had been. Micanglo's Taxi Service. Which made no sense at all and had probably been a wrong number.

He searched the house once more, thinking perhaps she had curled up in a corner somewhere and fallen asleep. He found nothing though. Their bed was made and all of her clothes and things were just as he had last seen them. He began to toy with the idea of taking a walk down the beach in hopes of meeting up with her, when he heard the front door open. "Julian?" called the sweet tones of the woman he had grown to love. He felt a foolish grin paint his face and hurried downstairs to meet her.

"Up here," he called down, rushing down the stairs. Sydney was standing in the front hall, dressed in black jeans and a yellow tank top that accented her athletic figure. She was wearing Birkenstocks and her blonde hair was up in a ponytail. But for the first time in quite a while, Sydney's beauty was not what took his breath away. It was the fact that she was holding a gun and it was pointed directly at him.

"Hey, honey," she said, her voice falsely cheerful. Before he could establish anything else, she pulled the trigger. He dived to the ground, narrowly missing being shot in the face.

She let out a scream of frustration and chucked the gun away from her. "What the hell was that?" Sark demanded, struggling to his feet.

Sydney let out another shout of anger and kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying into the wall. "You are quite possibly the worst piece of shit I have ever had the misfortune of making love to. And that includes Simon Walker."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sark demanded, though a deep pit of guilt in his stomach was quickly giving him a good guess.

"Did you honestly think I wouldn't ever find out?" she shouted. "Did you think I was stupid? Listen to me, you arrogant ass. Lauren Reed was a filthy little whore who only ever made love with you to further her position in life! Did you actually think she could care for you? Or any man? Maybe I shouldn't point fingers though, I was the one who thought a scum of the earth like you was capable of caring about me!"

Sark got to his feet, desperately trying to cling to the pieces of his life that were falling apart. "Syd…"

"Don't call me Syd, Julian," she hissed. "You and I are not friends, and certainly not lovers anymore. You can address me as Agent Bristow, though to tell the truth, I'd much rather you didn't address me at all."

She walked over to the gun and picked it up. She tossed it up in the air, catching it easily. Then she turned it on Sark and refocused her aim. "Did you actually think that if you dared to use me as a means of revenge on Michael Vaughn, that I wouldn't kill you when I found out?"

Her finger inched towards the trigger, and Sark couldn't help but dryly noticing this was the fulfillment of all his worst nightmares. Perhaps it was no more than he deserved, but he had to fight. It was second nature to him. "Syd…Agent Bristow…I'm not going to lie. This whole thing started out as a way to get revenge, but it's all changed. I love you and I always will. You changed me, you've made me a better person. Please don't throw away this amazing thing we have."

"How long have you loved me?" she demanded. "Did it start around the time you were leaving pictures of us having sex for my boyfriend and father to find? Or was it right from the very first time you shot me when my back was turned?"

"If I could take back those pictures, I would," Sark said, trying to get across his earnestness. "It was the stupidest, most ridiculous thing I've ever done."

"No, not exactly," Sydney growled. "I could think of a few more." She tossed the gun down for the second time, clearly unable to shoot him just yet. "God, how could I have been so stupid? How exactly did you convince me you'd changed?"

"Because I have!" Sark insisted. "You were too good to fool, Syd. It wasn't until I truly started to want you for my own, that the charms started working on you. You wouldn't have believed I loved you unless I did. And I do. I love you with all my heart."

Sydney laughed bitterly. "If you think great declarations of love are what I came here for, I should let you know we're a little beyond that bit."

"I'll give you what you came for," Sark promised.

"Really?" Sydney questioned. "And what…do you think…I came here for?"

"An explanation," he answered. "And perhaps proof that I earnestly love you."

"I don't want an explanation," Sydney countered. "I don't give a damn why you did it. And I don't want your love, so you don't need to bother trying to prove it. I came here to kill you, but since I seem unable to pull that god damn trigger…"

"Maybe you can't pull it, because you're still in love with me," Sark leapt on her weakness.

"Or maybe I just don't like killing people," Sydney suggested dryly. "Even if they deserve it." She sighed. "What ever made me think that you were preferable to Vaughn, is the only question I have right now."

"Vaughn?" scoffed Sark. "That man was just a little boy, who was never good enough for you! A life with him wouldn't have suited you at all. He only ever loved the Sydney he created, not Sydney Bristow with her faults and flaws. He's a pretty boy whose uses were few and skill was seriously lacking."

"STOP TALKING ABOUT HIM IN PAST TENSE!" Sydney exploded. "Despite your admirable attempts, Vaughn's alive."

"Oh," Sark said, dimly aware that there was now no saving the situation. "Found out about that, did you?" He found himself unable to look at Sydney, shame coursing through him.

"Yeah, yeah, I did," she said, and her voice was suddenly thick. "I can't believe I ever trusted you, Sark."

"Is he going to live?" Sark asked, wishing now only to cause her as little pain as possible. His eyes remained closely on the floor.

"I don't know," Sydney answered, anger fading from her voice. "I'm going to him as soon as I leave here."

"Of course," Sark nodded, hoping to disguise some bitterness from his tone. "I hope…I hope he lives. I never wanted to shoot him…and certainly never had any desire to kill him. That would have hurt you too much for me to bear."

Sydney let out a dry chuckle. "The rest I might have been persuaded to forgive you," she said, voice hollow. "But never this. Never this."

Sark risked a look up and found her gazing remorsefully out their kitchen window. His kitchen window, now. She looked at him, a twisted smile on her lips. "I changed everything about myself for you. My morals, my lifestyle…even my fucking hair colour. And the really…really twisted bit is, that a part of me is still in love with you. And I think that's why I hate you the most."

Sark got to his feet. "I…I hope you two will be happy together," he said softly, walking over to her. "If he survives, that is."

He knew he shouldn't have added that last bit. Her eyes flared up again. "We will be," she promised darkly. "As long as I never have to see you again." She turned sharply on her heel and strode for the door. Sark waited until he heard it bang behind her before following. He wrenched the door open in time to see her jump behind the driver's wheel of a black jeep. She revved the engine and did a large wheelie in the driveway, before tearing off. He got one last sight of her blonde hair- as fake as their entire life had been together- and then she was gone.

He slipped back inside and closed the door behind him. There was a hollow ache in his heart and waves of sorrow were washing him under. There was also a large sense of catharsis. Everything, he supposed, had been put back right in the world, again. The hero and heroine reunited in their happy ever after, and the villain, alone and broken hearted on his own. Before he could fully realize what was happening to him, he had slumped down against the door and was sobbing in his hands, unable to deal with the loss of the woman he had come to love more than life itself.

Nadia paced the airport lobby ceaselessly, not caring about the looks she was drawing from her fellow passengers. Sydney had been gone for quite some time, and they were supposed to be boarding the plane in ten minutes. She hoped fervently that Sydney had remained strong. If Sark had managed to charm her once more, she would have to return to their hopeful friends and relations with crushing news. The second loss of Sydney would be too much for Vaughn in his critical condition. Nadia suppressed a frustrated shout, and forced herself to sit down.

She couldn't believe the change that had come over Sydney, and not just her blonde hair. Her sister was ravaged by grief and betrayal. She had always admired Sydney for her strength of will and determination, but in the hour or so they had spent over tea, she had seen her sister looking weaker than she could ever have imagined possible. She fully realized now the fact that Sydney was truly in love with Sark, whatever his own feelings had been. Nadia couldn't help but wonder if Sydney could actually go back to Vaughn…if indeed, he would accept her.

It was not her only question. Two more thoughts were plaguing her mind. First off, was how wrong she had been about Sark's body image in the surveillance photos. He must be a true master of the craft of deception. She would have sworn that Sark was every bit in love with Sydney as she was clearly with him. Nadia had once prided herself on being able to read all humans easily enough. Apparently from now on, she would have to be slower to make a final judgement. The second question, the more relevant of the two, was who had made the call to tip the CIA off about the location of Sark? Although anonymousness calls were nothing out of the ordinary, those with such excellent results definitely were. Who was the mysterious person with such a grudge to Sark? Clearly he or she had to be close to the spy to know his movements and private residences. Where were they now?

"Nadia!" called a voice she would recognize anywhere. She stood and scanned the airport, looking for Sydney. She didn't notice her sister until she was directly in front of her. The blonde hair was gone. Clearly in her prolonged absence, Sydney had reverted back to her brunette roots. She was also more cheerful than Nadia had seen her from some time, wearing a smile. It was not a large smile, but for now it would do.

"Nice hair," Nadia smiled, reaching out to take a brown strand between her fingers.

Sydney's grin widened. "You know, au contraire to popular belief, blondes really don't have more fun!"

Nadia laughed, but quickly grew serious again. "Did you see Sark?"

"Yes," Sydney nodded shortly. "I really don't want to talk about it. All that matters is that it's completely finished."

"Are you sure?" Nadia asked suspiciously.

"More sure than I have ever been of anything," Sydney confirmed. Nadia couldn't help but notice Sydney's smile no longer reached her soulful brown eyes.

"All passengers boarding Havana, Cuba to Vienna, Austria , please board at Gate 2 immediately," a crackling voice over the PA system requested.

"Good timing," Nadia observed.

"I know," Sydney smiled, looping her arm through her sister's. They made their way towards Gate 2. Sydney did not look back once, though Nadia did. She met eyes with a young blonde man she knew only too well. He had clearly just rushed into the airport and was looking in angst at Sydney's retreating back. He opened his mouth, but then caught Nadia's eye. She fixed him with a glare that left him speechless. He lowered his arm and settled for watching Sydney walk away.

"What are you looking at?" Sydney asked, as she handed her ticket to an attendant.

"Absolutely nothing," Nadia smiled brightly.

AN: Two more chapters to go, kiddies. Next up is a Sydney/Vaughn chapter without our dearly beloved Mr. Sark.