Disclaimer: Alias isn't mine.

My first Alias fic, so let me know how you like it. It's much darker than originally intended.

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Sark's hands, an artist's hands stained with blood Will's blood dripping red screaming nightmares and oh god she hates him hates him hates his murdering hands. Sark's hands, holding a gun pointed straight at her, index finger caressing the trigger and in her darker dreams she's felt his hands on her around her throat making her scream making her bleed making her die.

Sark, a man with a boy's face and a killer's smile, a man twisted so tightly, so completely, always a breath away from snapping this life is madness this life is death and it's in his smile death lurks on his lips. He says something but it's drowned out by the beating of her heart she's trapped this time on her knees on her knees before death kneeling before oblivion and she might have asked him to repeat himself, once upon a time, might have feigned boredom, fought back, but it's not that she's broken, just worn away to nothing, and she doesn't fucking care anymore.

Sark's eyes, narrowed slightly in concentration, glinting with pleasure at seeing her brought low, seeing her defeated she imagines the frustration flowing through his veins knowing that she's always his equal knowing that he's never ahead. Sark's eyes, cold as the winter's soul and hiding just a bit of regret enemies always enemies but closer than lovers than friends than family because he sees her and she sees him and she's always known it would come to this in the end.

Sydney wonders why he waits, wonders if he wants some sign of understanding, a look of absolution, an admission that she'd do the same she'd wait she'd feel the wrongness in his position and she'd still pull the trigger she'd kill him because in her darkest dreams she wouldn't.

And she hates everything hates everyone and she won't give him absolution because he's her and she's him and she'll never forgive the killer in herself.

Sark's eyes harden, his lips thin. He says something else it's a pity it's a travesty we should have had our destiny and she replies there's no such thing as destiny there's only this moment and there's only that bullet that trigger.

You've given up he says amused condescending curious angry. You've let them break you and you're already dead.

So finish the job and it isn't begging if it's an order.

He pulls the trigger.

She wakes and Vaughn is there concerned caring loving. A nightmare, she says, please hold me, and she shakes in his arms.

In her darker dreams she dies dies blood running and it's always Sark always him and in her darker dreams she kills him.

And in her darkest dreams he hesitates throws down his weapons lifts her to her feet. In her darkest dreams she lets him live fits herself into his hands presses her lips to his loses herself in his eyes.

It's her darkest dreams that scare her.