Bricks And Mortar

He was panting, desperate, anxiously banging his hands against the solid iron of the barred window. What little light that filtered into the dank cell only highlighted the look of panic on Krycek's face.

Mulder watched him irritably, noticing where Krycek's white T-shirt had been stretched after their confrontation moments ago. Krycek gave off a distinct air of vulnerability while he was in this enclosed space, and it wasn't just because of the threats of torture he mentioned. There was something decidedly feral in his desire to get out of the cell. It was a side of Krycek Mulder had never seen before now: absolute terror.

It was unsettling, frankly. For a man who made a habit of double- crossing him and scheming his way into impossible situations -- usually violent -- Krycek definitely wasn't exuding calm.

"You're only going to hurt yourself if you keep doing that," Mulder noted quietly after sinking to the floor with a sigh.

Krycek turned, the sunlight proving that he hadn't just been sweating; his cheeks were tear-stained as well. "Why do you care?" he hissed angrily.

"I don't. Just pointing out the obvious."

Krycek went back to work on the window, this time gripping each bar and shaking it.

"Are you really that scared?"

"I told you they wanted to torture us," Krycek said angrily, still focused on the bars. "What do you think?"

Mulder considered their predicament, but knew banging against solid iron bars wasn't going to help. "I think there's another reason you're so anxious."

"Please don't profile me right now, Mulder, for *Christ's* sake."

"Krycek, we're not going anywhere unless you can squeeze through those bars. So calm the fuck down, huh?"

"I need to think..." Krycek mumbled to himself as he started pacing back and forth.

"Krycek..."

"There has to be a way to maybe..." Krycek began clawing along the space where the bars connected with the cement of the window.

"Alex, hey, what are you doing?"

By the time Krycek had begun punching at the bars with his balled fists, Mulder was up and across the cell. He grabbed the other man around the waist from behind, pulling him away before he could do further damage to his hands. Krycek struggled and tried to squirm out of Mulder's grasp, but Mulder turned him around and slammed his back against the side of the cell away from the window. The force of the blow knocked Krycek's head against the cement, and he finally stilled, his eyes wide and stunned.

Mulder hands were still on Krycek's shoulders as the other man finally settled. "Jesus, Alex, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," he whispered.

Mulder noticed his pale complexion, his trembling hands, and the sweat beaded on his brow. "Krycek, are you claustrophobic?"

"Enjoying this, Mulder?"

"I don't take joy in other people's pain, Krycek, even yours," Mulder said, drawing Krycek back over to the window. "Try and focus on the breeze coming through."

Closing his eyes hesitantly, Krycek inhaled deeply, his nose pressed against the bars.

"Take deep, even breaths, okay?" Mulder coached. "Keep your mind out of the room."

"It's a little hard with you hovering, Mulder."

Mulder realized he still had his hands on Krycek's shoulders. Stepping to the side, he propped an arm against the wall and gave the man his space.

"Sorry."

"This usually doesn't...I mean, I haven't been bothered like this in a while," Krycek admitted, running a hand over his face to wipe the sweat away. He glared at Mulder angrily. "And I hate that you're seeing it."

"We all have our fears, Alex. Though I have to admit this one is a little surprising coming from a sewer-dweller like you."

Krycek narrowed his eyes and shook his head subtly. "I should have murdered you on the plane."

"If we get out of here maybe you'll have a chance on the return trip."

Pressing his cheeks against the bars, Krycek looked up. "It's going to be dark soon," he said quietly.

Mulder looked through the bars at where Krycek had his attention focused on the sky. "Usually happens when the sun goes down."

Glancing back at Mulder, Krycek sighed, almost like he was embarrassed. "I can't stand the dark, either."

"Must make all those late-night killings awkward for you, huh?" Mulder asked snidely.

"Mulder, do you have to be a fuck *every* time we're together?"

"Let me think...yes."

Krycek sighed and sunk to the floor. "Fine. Then at least let me suffer in peace."

Mulder laughed, and then stopped when he caught sight of Krycek's face. It was stripped of its usual arrogance, a far cry from the man who had just threatened Mulder moments ago with the warning "Don't touch me again." Sitting there on the floor, Krycek looked older than his years - - a wounded soldier, broken and defeated.

"Alex...you're serious?"

"Leave me alone," he said, his voice barely audible.

"You're really afraid of the dark?"

"Yes, I'm really afraid of the dark, asshole," Krycek spat back. He turned away from Mulder. "Dark and confined spaces."

He tried to remember if Krycek had ever mentioned these fears when they worked together, but they hadn't really shared too many personal anecdotes. Actually, they hadn't really shared much of *anything* in the month they were partnered, other than lies and deceit. Mulder had to admit the feelings of betrayal still stirred whenever he encountered Krycek, even after all these years. After a shaky start he had warmed to the younger man; he had remained cautious, but he was willing to accept the unique idea that Krycek was interested in believing his theories. That made Alex's double-cross even more painful, because Mulder had begun to like the kid.

As an adversary Krycek was formidable. A quick thinker, and one who never hesitated to pull the trigger, Alex had been a thorn in Mulder's side ever since they parted company. Mulder didn't know what the hell he was thinking bringing this dangerous man along with him on this half- assed "mission." He should have left him locked up in that damn car at the airport.

But there was something other than animosity that always brought the two of them together. No matter how hard he tried, Mulder realized, Krycek was always going to be a part of his life, for the simple reason that they had so much left unfinished.

The mystery of his father's death still haunted him, as did Melissa Scully's. He could never prove that Krycek had been the one who had perpetrated either murder, but he had his suspicions. Krycek was always at the top of the list of suspects.

He always considered him evil, nothing more than a parasite living off the blood of others.

But if these thoughts were correct, Mulder wondered, how the hell did he keep allowing Krycek to get so close to him? Why did he even bother talking to the man? How was it that whenever Mulder found himself in a sticky situation, Krycek somehow happened to be there? That line of reasoning made him think about the raid on the Queens warehouse and the feeling in the pit of his stomach when he saw Krycek come tumbling out of that truck.

His first reaction was to put a bullet right between his eyes, but if he hadn't done so before, why now? That disturbed him the most: the man who he suspected had killed his father was still alive, mostly because Mulder hadn't simply gunned him down yet.

Why was that?

Why did this man keep returning to him like some lost soul seeking redemption?

Maybe...maybe that was it. Were they connected somehow because Krycek was the one who sought Mulder out? Not in a bid to destroy his life, but to seek forgiveness? Why else would Krycek even bother to send Mulder those receipts that led to the warehouse bust? They had always been hostile to each other, although Mulder never gave Krycek much of a chance to explain himself.

Now that dark enigma sat huddled against the decaying brick wall of their cell, eyes focused on the rapidly declining sunbeams that danced over the cement floor.

"Alex, what happened to you?" Mulder asked gently.

At the sound of his name Krycek turned his head and looked up at Mulder. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Mulder slid down next to Krycek in the darkening cell. "There's something you're not telling me that has you behaving this way."

"What did I tell you about the profiling?"

"I'm not profiling you, I'm simply asking a question."

Krycek made a face and concentrated on the floor again. "I got...trapped in a bad situation in North Dakota."

"The missile silo? We had a feeling you were there, chasing down that UFO..."

"Yeah, well, I don't really want to go into it," Krycek interrupted, wiping at his face again. "But this....fear, whatever, has been with me since then, and it's sort of fucked me up. Although I don't know why you care."

"I've been asking myself the same question," Mulder admitted, looking at him. There was a beat, and Krycek lifted his head to meet Mulder's eyes, then looked away again. "Why are you always turning up in my life, Alex?"

Krycek scoffed, the sound echoing between his knees.

"I keep wondering why you haven't just killed me. You've had plenty of opportunities. Why is there this strange dance you and I are always following in which I threaten you, you threaten me, but nothing ever happens? I don't get it...what is it with you?" Mulder asked.

Krycek looked up now, his eyes traveling over Mulder's features. "It's complicated."

"No shit, Alex. This is you and me we're talking about. There was never an 'easy' between us ever since you fucking betrayed me to your cigarette-smoking friend."

"He was never my friend, Mulder," Krycek said angrily. "Just a means to an end."

"Oh, so your treating me like a real partner and then sticking a knife in my back was a means to an end?"

"You're kidding me," Krycek said, frowning.

"What?"

"Are you *still* pissed off about that, Mulder? Jesus Christ, you can hold a grudge. I did what I had to do when we were partners."

"That's exactly it," Mulder bit back. "You did what you had to, without thinking about the consequences -- for me, for Duane Barry, for Scully! You're always out for yourself and no one else, you treacherous bastard."

"It wasn't like that at first," Krycek admitted quietly.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

Krycek sighed, and then turned to get right up in Mulder's face. "I *requested* to be assigned to you, Mulder, you stupid son of a bitch. All that stuff I said when we were first working together wasn't bullshit. I admired you, followed your work, even looked up to you, for Christ's sake. I read up on your work with Violent Crimes -- all the unbelievable ways you were able to connect the dots while the rest of the FBI had their thumbs up their asses? Shit, I was *amazed* by you, Mulder, and I wanted nothing more than to work with you."

"I sound like some kind of superhero when you put it that way," Mulder said disgustedly.

"You were to me!" Krycek admitted. "And for reasons that went beyond your work I made a fucking foolhardy deal to get close to you."

"Wait..."

"No, you heard me right." Krycek hesitantly lifted his hand and brushed it against Mulder's cheek. "I sold my soul to be near you, Mulder, to get close to you, to feel you next to me every day. It sounds stupid now -- the love of a green-nosed kid for a superior -- but you were my world back then. And despite everything that has happened between us all these years, you need to know that I always have your best interests at heart. I wish you would believe that."

"What do you..."

"It's not important right now," Krycek continued, his eyes locked on Mulder's. "Just for once I want you to understand what motivated me. It was never to stab you in the back. When I eventually found out what I was going to have to do in return for getting appointed to you and the X-Files I wanted to kill myself. I never meant to betray you, Mulder, but I had no choice. That black-lunged fuck has a lot of power that stretches far beyond the confines of the FBI."

"You're saying..." Mulder paused, trying to wrap his head around what Alex was telling him. "That you were...in love with me?"

"Still am, Mulder," Krycek answered, his voice low and child-like.

"Is that why you sent those receipts for the bomb-making materials to me before the raid at the Queens warehouse?"

"It's why I've done everything."

"I can't believe this."

"I don't think you ever will, Mulder. You'll never understand exactly why I do the things I do, nor why my actions sometime seem like I'm working against you. Unfortunately for me, you'll also never love me back."

"Alex..."

Krycek held up his hand. "Just remember what I've said, Mulder, okay? I haven't always been the man I am forced to be now. I still hold on to that enthusiasm and optimism I had as a starry-eyed green agent whenever I get to be with you. I carry you with me all the time. Remember that."

Suddenly the sound of someone approaching their cell shattered the quiet of the moment. One of the guards yelled something in Russian from the opposite side of the door, and slid two odious-looking bowls of liquid through a slot. Krycek immediately began drinking from his, and then passed the other to Mulder.

Sniffing at it, Mulder began to drink until he noticed something wriggling in the broth. His stomach turning, he plucked a live roach from his gruel, and when Alex saw it he spit out what was in his mouth and hurled the bowl across the room.

Then the cell door burst open and the burly guard grabbed Krycek by his T-shirt. Yelling in Russian, the guard manhandled Krycek with obvious enjoyment as Krycek babbled back at him in Russian.

Something Krycek said must have given the guard some thought because he released Alex.

"What are you saying?" Mulder asked, confused at the display.

"That I want to see his supervisor."

The guard said something again, and Krycek answered once more in Russian, nodding. Then he was escorted to the door. Alex stopped, and turned to lock eyes with Mulder, still standing helpless in the cell.

"Da svidanya."

Then the cell door clanged shut, once more leaving Mulder alone.