AFTER

I was not born to be a fighter

But now's the time I have to learn

To keep my head above the water

Gotta play with fire

But not get burned

"I'm Gonna Win"

Foreigner

May 22, 1952

Worcester, Massachusetts

What was happening?

How did Sarah know to come here? And why is she with Babinska?

Casey gestured silently, sharply, catching Chuck's eye in the dark. Casey wanted Chuck to move along the edge of the row of shipping containers, under the cover of darkness, back to the platform. Still shrouded in the inky black of night, Chuck could only see shadows across Casey's face. But his eyes glinted.

Casey was intense, focused, a razor-sharpness in his eyes that Chuck could only imagine had been honed during his service with the Marines.

Both comforting and frightening at the same time.

Impatiently, Casey gestured more emphatically, a non-verbal shout. Chuck complied. A part of him worried at leaving Casey alone, but, Chuck reminded himself, this wasn't the Casey who tended his home and gardens and Gertrude and dressed as Santa Claus for orphans. This Casey was on a mission, with or without Chuck watching his back.

Chuck kept his eyes on the platform shadows as he slowly moved towards them. Sarah and Babinska weren't lingering, Chuck realized. They had been in the process of finding cover in the shadows when Casey had pointed them out. Chuck watched as Babinska led the way, and their shadows disappeared, almost melting into the wall like apparitions, insubstantial.

What were they doing?

Chuck's first reaction was anger. Sarah had been traumatized in their home, terrible enough without the added complication of her pregnancy and recent illness. The anger was only a flash, and in its place fear and dread started to grow. Chuck had no idea how Babinska was here with her, who had contacted whom.

But her daughter was in danger. Their daughter.

It was less than a full day since Chuck had learned of Molly's existence, less than 12 hours since he had held the girl for the first time, and already he loved her, thought of her as his own. His family.

Chuck couldn't shake the dark feeling, the sense of foreboding. Sarah, the Sarah everyone else in their community had seen, was fierce, independent, hardened by her life and her circumstances. But she had also been withdrawn, almost always confined to herself, confined to the margins. She had always been different with him, allowing the tenderness inside her to manifest. Sharing it with him. But now he believed he was about to see the Sarah that Carina had always described to him. Tough. The indomitable woman.

The Sarah who would do anything… anything…to protect her child. Chuck knew that, just as he would do anything to protect them both.

By the time Chuck was on the platform, he could no longer see Sarah or Babinska.

"Sarah," Chuck called softly, a whisper. He knew she was somewhere nearby, hiding. He could smell the faintest scent of her perfume.

"Chuck, what are you doing here?" he heard Sarah hiss from the darkness. Evidently, her first reaction was anger too. He stepped forward, following the direction he believed Sarah's voice had come from.

"What about you?" he whispered in return. He let his eyes adjust to the darkness, his vision still disrupted from his head injury, seeing Sarah first, and then Babinska, both pressed against a brick wall on the edge of the platform.

"Daniel Shaw," Babinska said, his voice heavy with dread. "He's here. With the little girl."

"How did you know? Casey and I talked to Sister Katherine. Carina was practically talking in code to her. I never told Sister Katherine where I thought Shaw took them," Chuck replied rapidly.

"The man Shaw killed outside your house? The man Sal sent to watch your home?" Babinska added. "He's Sal's brother-in-law's nephew. His family."

Family was a different term when it came to the mafia. As long as a man had Italian blood, he could eventually become a member of the family, that is, the crime family. Made Men, that sort of thing. It offered a level of protection of sorts, a shield that the mafia's code of honor enforced. Harming or killing a member of the family, or anyone involved but outside the family, was expressly forbidden without permission.

The dead man in the car had been an actual, though distant, relative to the local captain and that made it worse. Chuck understood, and it was confirmed by the finality in Babinska's voice. In his vengeful, hateful binge of destruction, Shaw had crossed a line — a line of no return.

It still didn't explain why Babinska was here with Sarah…and how they knew to come to the train station.

"Sal contacted me once word got back. He asked me to go to your house, make sure you and your wife were alright," Babinska replied, as if in answer to Chuck's unasked question. "Your wife told me what happened."

"Cipriani is on his way here," Sarah whispered, taking a step closer to Chuck. "Mr. Babinska offered to bring me here."

"Why? Why would you do that?" Chuck asked, turning to the older man. Why would he have taken her into such a dangerous situation?

"Because Cipriani has a vendetta to settle and I'm not letting our daughter get hurt in the crossfire! I gave birth to her!" Sarah proclaimed, stepping in between Chuck and Babinska. In the dark was a Valkyrie, warlike, potent.

The boldness of her words, her truth on display, was shocking but satisfying. She wasn't hiding anything anymore; she was unafraid to let the world know.

She had stepped out of the margins.

"How could I argue with that? Deny that?" Babinska said as he looked at Sarah, overpowered, shrugging his shoulders. "She is her mother."

Chuck listened to Sarah's breathing, a feral panting that told him Babinska was right; there was no arguing with her. At the same time, her pregnancy complicated the danger she was in, heightened her vulnerability. Carina, Molly, and now Sarah and her unborn child…their safety was in his hands.

"Casey is in the railyards. With a gun," Chuck told them. "We never saw Shaw. But you're sure that he's here?"

"Sal was sure. His guys followed Shaw from the orphanage. Bastard hit a nun across the face, can you believe that?" Babinska asked, outrage in his whisper. "Sacrilege."

Sarah's eyes were suddenly troubled in the dark. "She's alright," Chuck reassured her. "Casey and I were too late. But Cipriani's men must have been there right before us."

Chuck scanned in the shadows, looking for movement, some indication of where Casey had gone. Straining his eyes in the dark was making his pounding headache worse. His eyes were dry and burning from fatigue. The faintest pale glow was visible at the horizon, the first indication that dawn was approaching.

If Shaw was here with Carina and Molly, and from every bit of evidence he had, he believed that was true, he would have to show himself soon.

Sarah leaned against Chuck, wrapping her arms around his waist, squeezing him.

She was dressed oddly, a bulky sweater over a loose fitting pair of overalls. She had thrown something on so she could leave, and be ready for anything, wherever Babinska took her.

Sarah suddenly grabbed Chuck's arm, pinching his skin with the fierceness of her grip, her head turned. He whirled to see what she had already seen, blinking as his vision swam with the motion. From the direction of the railyards, moving slowly across the railroad tracks, were two figures. Both were tall, one willowy and the other large and muscular.

As they moved closer, Chuck could see them more clearly. Shaw and Carina. Shaw's hand was death-locked on Carina's elbow. Carina's arms weren't at her sides, and the closer the two of them came, Chuck could see why. Carina was cradling Molly against her chest, the little girl's face buried in Carina's blouse.

Molly couldn't hear, so shielding her vision from the trauma she was enduring was the best way to keep her calm. Even in extremity, Carina's mind was at work, Chuck thought, wondering how much exposure she'd had to Molly in the few months that she had known of her existence, how much about the little girl Carina understood. When he got a closer look at Molly, he realized, amazingly, that she was asleep. Carina had kept her calm enough that she could sleep, after their long and stressful night.

Chuck glanced at Sarah and watched her tense, a puma ready to pounce, as she saw her daughter in Carina's arms, saw Shaw so close to them both.

The lights inside the station came on, the lights glaring in the hazy, predawn gray. It was open. Shaw had timed his exposure carefully. Chuck ducked backwards, pressing Sarah against the wall, keeping them all hidden in the shadows.

In the light from the station, Carina's state of disarray was revealed and was alarming. Her clothing was wrinkled, twisted, the white blouse under her sweater speckled with droplets of blood visible on the collar and shoulder above Molly. One of Carina's high heels was broken, causing her to walk cautiously, avoiding the limp the unevenness of her steps would have caused, her weight and Molly's almost all on her toes. Chuck felt a rush of thankfulness and admiration for her.

The three of them approached the door to the train station, Shaw's hand still menacingly tight on Carina's elbow. Chuck's anxiety heightened; the door was the demarcation between where Shaw could be stopped, and where Shaw would escape. If Shaw and Carina managed to cross into the train station, any chance of a peaceful resolution drastically decreased.

Sarah was holding her breath, squeezing his arm. She blinked rapidly, shifting her eyes towards the door and back, over and over. Chuck realized she wanted him to see something. He turned to look where she was looking.

A small white stone was on the gray cement walkway outside the station door. It was a small rock, out of place, but so small it would be easily missed by a cursory glance.

It meant something, Chuck understood. He didn't know why, or what it meant, but Sarah had left it there, in hopes that Carina would see it.

Carina reached for the door, her body angled as she gingerly shifted the sleeping baby, careful not to wake her.

She looks exhausted…and terrified.

Chuck watched Carina's face, her pale blue eyes dropping, lingering for a moment. The stone. She paused, ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, Chuck seeing it only because he was waiting for it. Then her eyes darted around, side to side…until she saw them, hiding in the shadows along the wall.

Even from where they were standing, Chuck saw the relief wash over her face. With the slightest of nods, Carina acknowledged that they were there, that help was here. She wasn't alone with Shaw any longer.

Babinska had his gun in his hand, pointed forward. He nodded once, although what he was trying to convey, Chuck wasn't sure. All Chuck knew was that once Carina opened the door, they were moving to take Shaw down. Chuck thought he should defer to Babinska, since the man was armed, and presumably no stranger to violence. The situation was fraught, and Chuck had to be ready for anything.

Carina's hand was on the entry bar. She pushed with her right hand, then spun, shielding the baby with her entire body, jamming the door hard into Shaw's hand, knocking his grip from her arm.

Babinska didn't waste the opportunity Carina presented him. He charged forward, running, holding his gun out in front of him. "Don't move!" Babinska shouted, his accent thick.

Chuck watched through the door as Carina sprinted towards the ticket counter, still keeping Molly tucked safely in her arms. All with a broken heel.

At the same time, Shaw drew his weapon from his waistband and fired, moving faster than Babinska, who fired back and missed. Chuck turned, pressing himself over Sarah, pinning her to the wall. His life flashed before his eyes again as he heard bullets ricocheting behind him.

The sound of glass shattering stopped the pinging of bullets back and forth. Screaming, growling…

Chuck lifted his head. Casey and Shaw had crashed through the glass door of the station. Babinska had cowered behind a bench along the sidewalk. There was no blood on the cement anywhere that Chuck could see, which told him, hopefully, that Babinska hadn't been hit.

Casey and Shaw grappling blocked his view of Carina and Molly.

Without hesitation, Sarah charged forward, rocketing towards the door. Chuck, terrified for her, followed, his long legs compensating for her faster strides.

She banged through the door, no regard for her own safety. Chuck watched in horror as Sarah dove forward, airborne, leaping onto Shaw's back. Casey was on the ground underneath Shaw, both their weapons scattered on the floor beyond reach.

"You son of a bitch!" Sarah screamed, her legs wrapped around Shaw's back, her fingers reaching around Shaw's head, her fingernails gouging at his eyes ferociously, deeply, drawing blood.

Shaw's angry howl of pain echoed in the empty station. He jerked his arm backwards, but Sarah shifted her weight, dodging before he could strike her. She clawed at his eyes again, Shaw's blood coloring her hands red.

Frantically, Chuck scrambled for a gun. He found one, but he didn't know whose gun he had, Casey's or Shaw's.

Shaw finally flung Sarah off of his back; she landed on top of Casey, who was still prone on the floor. As Sarah landed, Chuck closed the distance on Shaw.

Chuck leaned forward, pressing the barrel of the gun savagely against Shaw's neck.

"Touch her again and you're dead," Chuck breathed, absolutely meaning what he said. All hesitation was gone.

Shaw froze; he was at Chuck's mercy, blinded by blood running down his face, dripping from his chin.

"You're as weak as that frumpy housekeeper," he growled. "You won't shoot me, Bartowski, you can't."

Before all of this, Chuck would have believed that. But something primal had awakened in him after he had seen first-hand the pain Shaw had caused to everyone he cared about. After he had seen Shaw on top of Sarah. He glanced over Shaw's shoulder and saw Casey sit up, putting his arm out between Sarah and Shaw, keeping her from attacking Shaw again.

"Enough."

A new voice spoke, one Chuck recognized, but hadn't heard in the melee. Commanding. Salvatore Cipriani. Sarah had said he was on his way.

Behind him, Chuck heard multiple guns being cocked.

"Charles, you may put the gun down," Cipriani said, his voice loud, measured, neutral.

Chuck complied. He lowered the gun, placing it on the tile floor.

"Kick it away, Charles. The other one, too," Cipriani ordered. Chuck did as he was told once he located the other.

Casey stood, helping Sarah to her feet. She stumbled forward, straight into Chuck's arms. It was only then that Chuck turned to see Cipriani.

He stood in the doorway in the midst of a million shards of broken glass, like ice, flanked by two armed men. All three of them were dressed in expensive suits, perfectly pressed, even in the earliest morning hours.

Shaw stayed on his knees, wiping at his eyes.

"Face me, you piece of shit," Cipriani ordered.

Shaw, defeated, spun on his knees, his macabre visage turned upwards. He was bleeding from his eyes, his skin crisscrossed with myriad scratches, blood smeared on his checks and running in rivulets down his neck.

"I took you into my family, Daniel. You were at my house on holidays. I let you eat at the same table as my children. I thought, back then, that you were worthy of that."

Cipriani raised his chin, his eyes thin, angry slits. "This is how you repay me? Blackmailing one of my best friends, going against the family. Beating old women, young girls… nuns. What the hell is wrong with you? You kidnapped a deaf baby, Daniel. Sick, I tell you. Sick. You're a disgrace to the family.

"And you murdered my sister's husband's nephew. My blood. You will answer for that."

Cipriani flicked his head only once. Both men standing at his sides moved forward. Each man grabbed Shaw under one arm and together they lifted him to his feet. He struggled weakly as he was dragged through the broken glass and out onto the sidewalk. The struggling stopped. Now Shaw was begging, the sound pathetic. The merciless pleading for mercy. In the distance, Chuck saw Dominic Babinska, tucking his gun into his belt and then walking out of Chuck's field of vision.

"Where is the little girl?" Cipriani asked Chuck. Chuck turned away from Shaw toward Cipriani.

"We're here," Carina called from behind the ticket counter. She stood slowly, crooked on her broken heels. Molly was still miraculously asleep, her head resting on Carina's shoulder.

Sarah pulled away from Chuck, running towards the pair. Carina stepped forward as Sarah almost collided with her, grabbing the baby and crushing her into her arms.

Molly woke up then, as Sarah sank to her knees, weeping and thanking Carina and nuzzling her face into her daughter's hair. Chuck heard the excited yell, the oddly pitched exclamation he now recognized as his daughter's. Molly looked at Sarah and calmed again, smiling and snuggling against her mother's chest, rubbing her face into Sarah's sweater.

Chuck crossed the floor, lifting Sarah to her feet as she held the baby. Molly was sandwiched between them, bundled safely in Sarah's arms. He felt his blood start to flow again, warmth spreading through him as he contemplated his entire world, there in the circle of his arms.

"What happened to the clerk?" Cipriani asked Carina.

"I told him to run. Get help. You know…the police," Carina said, her voice weakening as her meaning registered in the strange scene.

"Yeah. Well, they aren't coming," Cipriani said flatly, with confident finality. "The police sometimes…prefer we…clean up our own messes, if you know what I mean. And we prefer that too. The fact that the police could track Shaw across the city…" Cipriani clicked his tongue and shook his head. "The boss can't have that."

His voice gentler, Cipriani addressed Sarah. "I'm sorry, miss, for the damage he caused, for how he hurt you and your family."

Sarah nodded. Chuck saw her uncertainty, her questioning if there was anything she needed to say.

But Cipriani turned to Chuck. "Your father saved my life once, Charles. A very long time ago." He sighed. "There are days, I'll be honest, I questioned if I was worth saving, worth the risk he took to save me. Stephen never questioned it, though. He always did what was right. I told myself if I could only be a quarter of the man he was, I would be alright. I don't think I ever came close…and now…well…" Cipriani's voice faded in self-depreciation.

He shook his head. "Stephen died before I could repay the debt. So Charles, I've repaid it to you. Despite all the rest of my issues with him, this…me doing this, making the effort…was because of your father. He was a good man. And so is his son. So are you. Forget all this ever happened. No one will harm you again. You have my word."

The surreal nature of the entire interaction, the entire night, was impossible to shake, as Chuck watched Sal Cipriani walk out of the train station. Chuck's vision became syrupy again, his headache overwhelming.

What grounded him and lessened his pain was the smile he saw as Molly lifted her face from her mother's shoulder. Gingerly, gently, he touched Molly's cheek with the back of his index finger. A caress. Joy rose inside him as she giggled, a unique sound that he already found endearing. She reached up and wound her chubby fingers around his finger, squeezing.

He felt in that instant she had accepted him as her father. That she knew she was home. Safe in her parents' arms.

Outside, the sun had risen.

A/N: Huge thank you for Zettel and his pre-reading genius. One more chapter to tie up loose ends, and an epilogue. Thanks for sticking with me through all of this. :)