Sufficiency

Fire and Ice
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Robert Frost

Through the dust and the ash, everything looked gray. Alex rubbed his eyes with the last clean inch of his shirttail, not that it improved anything. Once it had been a charming cul-de-sac of expensive cottages by the sea, less than three hours up the coast from Boston.

Now, the place was a wasteland.

There was nothing here, why he kept digging, awkwardly with one hand, (but who cared now) and searching was something he wondered at from his pit of exhaustion, filth, and thirst. He gave up, threw down the shovel. He knew some other scavenger would find it and think it was his lucky day.

Alex knew better, there were no more lucky days.

There were no more lucky nights, just smoke and dust, hunger and thirst and loneliness.

It was March 24, 2005 and the planet earth was no longer overpopulated. He had, early in his career, learned to process death. A body here or there, illness, a shot in the head, a swallow of poison, he seen that, hell, he'd participated in it. However, death on a global scale was beyond his comprehension.

In the end, everyone was dust to dust and ashes to ashes. He'd learned that in a long ago and far away catechism class. Maybe the nuns had it right all along.

He wondered if Mulder had ever been subjected to a catechism class, a sharp rap on the back of his hand or head with a yardstick or the long walk down green linoleum and pea-green walls to the Mother Superior's office.

By the time he was 12, that long walk held no more terror for him. The Mother Superior was a desiccated old witch, but the assistant in the front office had cookies and juice boxes hidden under the counter. Even then, he'd learned to live through the punishment to get to the good stuff.

He walked to the sea. It was a murky yellow, with billions and billions of pounds of concrete, dust, and detritus boiling and roiling in its waves. No doubt, the shores of every ocean looked the same.

There was no kindly soul to hand him a sweetie and a drink this time.

He found the skeleton of the burned out car where he'd hidden his last bits of stuff. He gathered it together in the remains of a beach towel. The towel's red, white, and blue stripes were incongruous now that the beach and the sand were grime, dust, and oil.

As he followed the path made by the thousands of feet of two hundred years plus of former inhabitants, he was almost amused remembering the final scene in Planet of the Apes, when the Statue of Liberty was discovered rising out of the sand. The path went across the beach and up a hill. The bodies were gone, but the smell of them was still ripe in the slow moving fetid air.

Surprisingly, the old-fashioned town square was mostly intact. The gaily-painted bandstand remained erect and colorful among the ruins of the library, city hall, and police station.

He'd found a few guns in the rubble a week ago, and they were reassuringly heavy in his hobo sack, clinking dully under the towel. He wasn't sure who was left to be so defended against, but if there was, he was ready.

He kept walking, the few stores and restaurants were all destroyed and picked over before he got there, and nothing edible remained.

The thought of food made him hungrier and his stomach growled out its protest.

He didn't know where he was going, where there was to go. All he knew was that he needed to leave.

He slept on the side of a dry ditch, hidden between a nest of cars and house siding. It was hot all night despite the date, but dry and he slept deeply. If a gang came to cut off his remaining arm, he intended to die from it this time. He wondered if the pristine snows of Russia were, like the beach, turned to muck.

Mulder helped shovel the final layer of dirt over the mass grave. Exhausted, aching, starving, and dirty, his sadness was so vast the large number of dead hardly registered.

He'd tried for years and years, but few had listened and fewer than that had believed him. So, nothing had been done. The alien ships came and conquered. Mulder guessed that the humans who survived had been pre-selected or tagged in some way, because some had survived. They were rounded up and marched off within days. Mulder and a few others had hid successfully and had spent the time since burying scorched, dead bodies. It was a hopeless task. There were too many bodies to dig graves for, the men tried anyway. It was the humane thing to do.

Mulder sank into the front bench seat of a sedan that had become his home. Somehow, it had been ripped from its car and ended up by a pile of concrete that formed a three-sided enclosure. He'd hauled a roll of thick plastic lawn bags and fashioned a roof. It leaked, of course, but not onto the seat. As long as no one was ostensibly more comfortable than his fellows were, his stuff was left alone. Mulder had hid his FBI issue revolver and spare clips in a small space in the concrete along with his collection of Kennedy silver dollars. There were over 250 silver dollars and they were too heavy to carry around, but silver was silver and could be used if he ever found anyone selling anything he needed.

Right now, hunger was everything. Thirst too. If anyone was cooking, there was no scent of the BBQ, just the roasted gristle smell of the dead bodies. Down, what used to be Georgia Avenue, had been the National Arboretum, fruit trees, and vegetables galore. All dust now. He wondered if the vast collection of seeds had survived somewhere under the rubble of glass and trees. Maybe, maybe, someone would unearth it someday and replant the planet.

He lay, half asleep and dreamed of the apple orchards and pear trees that had grown on the small farms just outside his hometown on Rhode Island. He'd raided those orchards after dark, with his buddies, on a dare in high school and he could remember the crisp and juicy taste of them now.

Mulder shifted his hips and started to fall asleep, glad he'd always preferred a couch instead of a bed.

It was inevitable, Mulder thought, that just when he gave up and started walking north in hopes of finding cooler weather and open spaces, that he would recognize another walking ghost. It had taken almost a month before he and the small team that had gathered gave up trying to bury what was left of humanity in Washington DC. There were just too many bodies and the state of decomposition in the fierce, impossible midwinter heat had finally made the task impossible. Besides, the rats and vultures had become brave and refused to give up their feast of the millennium without fighting back. After three men had died from rabies and another two from open sores that were infected without medications or clean water to help them, the team dissipated. Mulder was left alone.

He'd made good time, as if time mattered anymore, walking almost twenty miles a day for the past ten days, eating roots and slurping dew from any surface that looked clean in the mornings. He was almost to the outskirts of New York City, although he had chosen to walk west of the city and avoid it and more evidence of massive death tolls.

The man walking slowly along the same path from the opposite direction was in rags, gaunt and crippled, with one arm was missing. He listed slightly to the right and staggered every few steps, drawing himself erect again. His hair was long and kept off his face with a filthy headband made of a piece of rag. No matter, Mulder recognized Krycek immediately.

Krycek halted. He stared, without greeting, at the thin bedraggled creature that approached him. Mulder, he thought, without surprise. Mulder had survived; and was, of course, on the same path. Krycek almost smiled at the irony.

"We have to stop meeting like this," Mulder said in a hoarse voice.

Alex stood still, "Here," He said, thrusting his sack at Mulder. "There are guns inside, shoot me." He sat down on the pavement, waiting for the relief of death.

Mulder tottered on his feet under the weight of the sack; he dropped it and sat down too. "Nah," He said and fell silent.

Alex groaned. If Mulder would shoot him, his death would mean something, unlike the other millions, possibly billions of other deaths. He liked the idea. He reached over, struggled with the knot on his sack, and handed Mulder a gun. "Come on, shoot me."

Mulder glared at him from bloodshot eyes, "Too easy, Krycek, you're not getting off that easy."

They sat there, the sun was hot, and the road billowed with dust in the sluggish wind. Eventually, Mulder rubbed his eyes. "Waiting for Godot," he mumbled.

Alex smiled. "Nothing else to do," He said agreeably and passed out.

Mulder stared at the ravaged body of his enemy. Krycek was terribly thin, his hand, ankles, and face bloated with that particular look of dehydration and incipient starvation. His lips were cracked and caked with dust and so were his eyelids and every small line on his face. "Well," Mulder said aloud, "he doesn't look like a kid anymore."

Mulder dug in his own sack; he had a precious bottle of water left. He looked at it a long time, unscrewed the top, and wet his lips, his throat aching to drink it all. He carefully poured a capful of water and, using his finger, traced the water on Krycek's lips. Krycek's mouth fell open and Mulder poured the small amount in his mouth.

Krycek choked and his eyelids fluttered. Mulder poured another capful and tipped that in too. Krycek opened his eyes. "Shit," he said and closed his eyes again. Mulder screwed the top back on, put the bottle in his sack, lay down, and closed his eyes.

When they awoke, it was dark, hot, and silent. Krycek grunted. Mulder grunted in return, without a word, they struggled to their feet. "West," Krycek mumbled, "There's nothing left north."

"Nothing south either," Mulder said and they began to walk.

They shambled along, feet dragging, but still they were making some progress. Near dawn, they saw the twisted metal of a large sign; they got closer, "Welcome to Pennsylvania, the Keystone State, it read."

"Go west, young man," Mulder said and stepped across the invisible state line.

Krycek followed.

Dawn was hot, airless, and blindingly bright. They realized they were walking along what had been the Pennsylvania Turnpike and they saw twisted, burnt, and abandoned cars everywhere, but not another soul.

Krycek stopped at a car, he scavenged inside and came up with a dirty baby blanket, he tied it on his head. He found several jars of baby food and crowed.

They sat by the car, hungrily tipping the jars of stewed fruits into their mouths. It was wet, sweet, and wonderful. They both belched loudly and Mulder almost laughed.

"Odd that the bodies are missing," Alex said.

Mulder grunted, he had theories about that.

They walked on, investigating every car and finding tidbits of foodstuffs, in one car, two liters of bottled water, still sealed, and not evaporated. "Eureka!" Mulder said.

They changed into fresh t-shirts that they found in a crushed SUV. "Ohio, First in Flight," they read, one blue and white and one green and yellow. Mulder found a College baseball cap too, and put it on.

In another car, they found three backpacks in the trunk. They shook out the contents, textbooks, girl's bikini panties, a cell phone and a laptop computer. In the second one, they found a package of M and M's. This time Mulder actually laughed, grabbed them and said, "Mine!"

They packed their stuff in the backpacks and walked on. They weren't traveling very fast, but they were feasting and drinking and that was more important. "The turnpike goes all the way through Indiana," Krycek said at one point.

When the noon sun made any traveling impossible, they lay down in the scant shade of a tractor-trailer and slept. Later, they found a truck from a chain of grocery stores. The odor of rotting food was terrible, but they found cases of water, cases of canned vegetables and paper products. They agreed to search in nearby cars for suitcases that had wheels and pack them with the water and vegetables. It took most of the night, but Mulder found a twin sized baby stroller and Krycek found a trunk with wheels and they packed them to the maximum and kept walking.

They rested again near dawn, but wanted to walk on before the heat got too bad. Krycek used his knife to pry openings in the cans and they ate peas and corn until they were stuffed.

The next day was the same, scavenging, and eating, finding whatever they could use and adding it to their makeshift wagon train. They found a Nike truck and put on new shoes, each keeping a few more pairs, a Sears truck afforded them new jeans, a two-man tent, camping gear and some useful small tools. They hit pay dirt in the back of a Toys-R-Us truck where they found a shipment of new, lightweight, plastic molded, shopping carts, large enough to hold toys for a dozen kids. They tied them two by two for each. They continued to load and walk and push them down the highway, like some kind of caricature of the homeless. They never saw another soul and only smelled rotting flesh occasionally. They did not approach the dead, the rats and the maggots had gotten there first.

When the day got too hot, they found shade, ate, slept, and played gin.

On the fourth day, they found another sign, this one said I-40 West/I- 70 West and I-40 East to Baltimore, MD, and saw mountains ahead of them. They continued to walk. The cars here were as twisted and burnt as before, but it was obvious someone had been there already. Piles of things from the vehicles were strewn all over the highway. Krycek stopped and checked his weapons. Mulder, grimly, did the same. They tied belts made of fabric and stuck the guns where they could get to them. The makeshift holsters were uncomfortable, but meeting other scavengers could be dangerous. In the heat of the day, they climbed off the turnpike and found shade and some protection in a shell of what was left of a barn. They agreed on shifts and Mulder slept first, thinking how strange it was that Krycek, of all the people left on earth, was watching his back, and what was more, he trusted him.

Krycek, keeping watch, was equally amazed. He chewed some hard candy that they had found in a family car and wondered about the bodies. Almost all the vehicles were empty, but here and there, was a dead carcass. He hadn't allowed himself to think about the whys and wherefores of how the aliens had accomplished the invasion. But, it certainly seemed there was a method of some kind in play. He thought about the Purity Project Cancer Man had managed. There were many details he was not privy to, but he began to extrapolate what he knew. Their smallpox vaccines catalogued humans, but not everyone had them. They were also subdivided by blood type and in some cases, genetic markers. Why there had been so many dead bodies in urban areas and for few out here was a mystery that population numbers did not answer. Maybe the aliens had gambled on seeing if the more urban would live through the holocaust for some use later or needed Type O blood donors for some purpose. He shrugged; no doubt, Mulder had some clue that he wasn't talking about. In fact, they hardly talked at all. It was as if having the mission to go west and survive in common, they worked seamlessly, if silently, together.

Krycek scratched his scruffy chin, they needed to bathe, and it was becoming something they could no longer ignore. The rough living, walking and sweating was taking a toll and Krycek felt grimy, itchy, and exhausted.

Day twelve, and they saw the tunnel. Krycek remembered driving through this tunnel on his way to Pittsburgh years before. It wasn't particularly long, a mile or so, but it went straight through the mountain. At the entrance were heaps of twisted tractor-trailers. One of them was a fuel carrier with metal tanks of benzene, kerosene and other flammable materials. They entered the tunnel, at first, grateful to be out of the sun, but a few feet in, they changed their minds.

There were cars every few feet, twisted and partially burnt, but there were also bodies. Bodies and rats. Somehow, the mountain had stopped whatever alien power took the bodies and the rats had found their way to the rotting corpses. Fetid and beyond foul, Krycek gagged and vomited. Mulder copied him. They turned back.

At the entrance, Krycek had an idea. He stopped Mulder, and said, "If we take the benzene, we can spill it as we go and at the other end, burn everything. These bodies will never be buried otherwise. Mulder agreed, they piled their belongings into one cart each and filled the other with tanks. Mulder tore up a tee shirt and tied it over his nose and mouth, Krycek did the same. They hurried as fast as they could through the tunnel, but Krycek felt the weight of the mountain on top of them and hated every second of the trip.

At the other end of the tunnel, they left the tanks and pushed the carts down the ravine. Krycek used the pieces of T-shirts to make a couple of Molotov Cocktails. They lit them and ran as close to the entrance as they dared, heaved the firebombs and ran, hell for leather, down the slope.

The tunnel exploded and the smell of burning bodies, both human and rat was terrible.

Mutually, they traveled down the mountain on a side road, which ran parallel to the turnpike, just in case others saw the fire and came to investigate. As the day turned to evening, they could see the flames in the distance.

During the night, they found a small town. Barely a town, it was more of a gas station, mini-mart and cheap motel exit. The houses, all twenty or thirty of them, were on a ridge to the north. They pushed their carts to the street of houses, found one with a partial roof and spent the night there.

They were getting low on water again and Mulder worried about it aloud. Krycek agreed. They would have to start searching everywhere. On the way out of town, they saw a valley. Even after everything, it looked lovely and untouched, a stream and a small lake were at its center, a few large, white houses still stood, and several cows and a couple of goats wandered freely.

It was the first time they had seen an animal other than rats, mice or vermin. They headed toward the valley.

As they approached the final descent into the valley, they felt a cool wind blow, scattering the stagnant heat and sending a sweet scent. It was so unusual that they paused and breathed deeply. It was quiet, but it was the quiet of the ages, a soft wind, gentle mooing, and rustling trees. It was the quiet of life without man, or fear or degradation. Krycek stopped; suddenly afraid.

Mulder stopped too. He stared at Krycek and waited. After a few moments, he smiled. "Krycek... Alex," he said in a soft voice, and Alex looked at him, his eyes, had he known it, luminous. "There's nothing to fear." Mulder looked around the gentle scene, smiled some more and turned back to Alex. "Didn't you believe there would be something left, which even the aliens could not alter or destroy? I did."

Alex fingered the weapon tied around his waist, brushed the ashes of remains off his shirt, rubbed his left shoulder and put his hand over his heart, "No," he said in a whisper, "No."

Mulder stretched, flung his arms out as if he were flying, and pointed at the valley spread before them, "I'm alive, you're alive, there are others who will find this and have hope. The aliens might have won this round, but if it is a battle for heaven and earth, it's not over yet."

"I didn't know you were religious, Mulder," Alex said, but his voice was far from sarcastic.

Mulder considered the matter, "It's not religious faith, per se, Alex. It's about hope, maybe, or knowing that the entirety of our species is more than the sum of a single man's weakness or even a single man's strength. We are enduring, I believe, and our time has not run out."

Alex stood up straight, trying to shake off the strange feeling, and said. "I think we should be very careful here, Mulder."

Mulder grinned, picked up the rope to his carts and began to walk, Alex followed. After a few minutes Mulder began to speak, "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me lie down in green pastures; He leadth me beside still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Even when I walk in the valley of darkness, I will fear no evil for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff-they comfort me. You set a table before me in the presence of my adversaries; You anointed my head with oil; my cup overflows. May only goodness and kindness pursue me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for length of days." (Translation from the Hebrew Torah, not the King James Bible)

"That's not funny, Mulder," Alex said firmly.

"No," He said, "But apropos, don't you think?"

Alex grunted and thought about the nuns and the boy he'd been, walking down green hallways, smarting from the smack by a ruler. "Sister Mary-Elena," He whispered under his breath, "Forgive me." He hurried with his load, and side by side, they reached the floor of the valley.

Up close, they could see that the valley was not, in fact, untouched. The green earth was rippled in an unnatural way, as though it had seized. The white fences around the paddock were cracked and down entirely in some places, the houses' foundations were also cracked, and some of the siding and storm windows were scattered about. Still, it was peaceful and cool and there hadn't been any firestorms here, no odor of rotting flesh or acrid dust.

They left their carts beneath a tree and explored, going from house to house until they came to the biggest house and went into the barn behind it. Here they found lofts full of hay and feed for the cows and a chicken coop, very dirty. The hens were missing, but they had been here, alive after the invasion because the place was filthy. They saw the break in the outer wall when they got closer and out back, there were a few chickens roosting in nearby trees. They came quickly towards the men, clucking and fluttering, obviously wanting to be fed. Mulder went back inside, found a bag of seed, and dumped some on a patch bare of grass. The chickens set to immediately.

Once the chickens were fed, the cows and the goats approached. "See what you've started," Alex said. Mulder grinned, returned to the barn, and struggled back with a bale of hay. With Alex's help, they pushed it over the fence and the cattle came quickly.

"Ever been on a farm?" Mulder asked.

Alex rolled his eyes, "Not my scene."

Mulder laughed.

They went in the back door of the big house, it led to a large conservatory chock full of flowering plants and vegetables. Some of the shelves were knocked from the wall and crockery and earth was scattered about, but overall, the place had come through pretty well.

Inside the house, they found a huge farm kitchen, one entire wall lined with shelves of put-up fruits, jams, and vegetables. Some of the jars had cracked, the juices running everywhere, sticky and smelling of too sweet syrup. It was then that they heard it and it took a moment for them to process the sound, the electricity was running. Mulder opened the large refrigerator. "Wow," he said softly.

Alex went outside and climbed a series of steps to the roof, "Mulder!" He called down. Mulder came outside, "The whole roof is covered in solar panels, very high tech ones, almost new. They must be powering the house."

Mulder hurried back inside without commenting, Alex joined him. Mulder was quickly going from room to room, "What?" Alex asked.

"I'm looking for a radio." Mulder said shortly.

"Did you see if there was anything to drink first?"

Mulder didn't stop, "Go and bring me some. If there is a radio, maybe there will be a broadcast of something."

Alex shook his head; he doubted there would be a station that worked. The invasion had wiped out everything, including all the power plants. He found a gallon jar of ice tea in the fridge, there was milk too, kept cold enough that it was half frozen and not spoiled. There were eggs, meat, condiments, and leftovers. He grinned, if the place had enough electricity to run the fridge, it should be enough to operate the stove. He poured tall glasses of tea, found cookies in a cookie jar shaped like a chicken, and went to find Mulder.

Mulder was at a desk in the den. He had a radio turned on and was bent over it, willing it to work. There was nothing, just a hum, not even static. Alex put the tea and cookies on the desk. Mulder sighed, and drank thirstily.

"I'm going to take a shower before I do anything else," Alex said.

"Good idea," Mulder mumbled, twisting the dial on the radio.

Alex left the room.

Of course, there was no radio response, so Mulder got the idea that they needed to find a Ham Radio set up somewhere and try that. "We could stay here; make this our base, and try day trips. It's rural area; there must have been a Ham operator nearby."

Alex remained noncommittal; while this place was nicer than anything else he'd seen since the invasion, it wouldn't do to get too comfortable. "There's a huge country out there," He said. "We should explore further before we settle. The weather is so strange, and I don't know why. If the invasion had nuclear elements, we would be suffering from radiation poisoning already."

Mulder considered what Alex said, "Okay, we stay here for a while and check out the area. There's food here and shelter. I don't understand the weather either. I don't think it's atomic power, the dead seem to be random, but the ones who were taken and those of us alive who were not collected are not random. The aliens struck with plenty of forethought. They knocked out power supplies and almost all the oil based fuel lines. Without power, we can't tell if the satellites are still working either. Cars don't work, but the machinery, like the fridge here, if they have power, do work. I don't understand that either."

"Time hasn't stopped," Alex said, "You know, like when an alien event happened before. But the weather is reacting to something in or from space."

"There could have been any number of missing times since this began. We wouldn't know without the usual clues. None of that matters, well not until we know more. There are a million questions, Alex. Where are the people who were preselected, taken? Why are some of us alive and free, why did the others die? Right now, we are helpless against them. I want to find out if it is the same all over the world. Until we learn what the aliens intend to do with the planet, we are merely marking time."

Alex frowned, suddenly impatient, "We could live out the rest of our lives, however long or short and never know."

"Yes," Answered Mulder seriously, "That may well be the case, but I believe that as time goes by, people will gather together somehow and try to form societies. We are a tribal species and it will be a mandate once the survivors realize they have survived. The more we know when that begins to happen, the better off we will be. If this has only happened to the western hemisphere, for example, there may be ways and means of transporting us back to civilization." Mulder paused, he stared directly into Alex's eyes, "Do you know anything about it, anything at all about Purity, supersoldiers, alien plans or what the smoker had in mind?"

Alex rose to his feet, "I have been dead for almost five fucking years, Mulder. I have not been in the loop. Before that, Spender fed me the same bullshit bits and pieces he fed you, never revealing the scope of the project. A few times, I thought I understood most of it, but then the rebel resistance became an even worse enemy, you were gone, Scully was pregnant with god knows what and I was scrambling to survive between all the factions. Once Skinner 'killed' me, I opted out, very, very quietly. I was living in Maine doing internet security jobs when all this went down."

Mulder looked puzzled, "You don't know Scully, and I had been on the run for almost the same amount of time? I swear I saw you at the trial. You even helped me."

Alex frowned, "What trial? I thought you, Scully, and the kid were in DC as usual."

Mulder began to laugh, it was wild and shrill, and it scared Alex. He shook Mulder, "Have you lost your mind?" He said roughly.

Mulder chuckled, almost doubling over in mirth, "I thought you were dead and I was meeting your ghost. I met lots of dead people during those weeks I was in jail."

Alex shook his head, "Calm down, Mulder. We'll get some more tea and you can tell me the whole story."

Mulder continue to laugh, "Yeah, tea will solve everything, with more cookies; maybe there will be a miracle."

Alex went to get more tea, Mulder fiddled some more with the radio, laughing to himself. Alex was worried, Mulder seemed to have reached some kind of breaking point, and he hadn't a clue about what to do about it.

He set a tray of glasses, the tea, and the whole cookie jar on the porch and went to get Mulder. Maybe looking at a scene that was virtually unchanged would help the man calm down.

Mulder went outside without protest, still amused.

"Tell me Mulder," Alex said and handed Mulder a cookie.

Mulder cracked up, laughing until his sides hurt and he was gasping for breath. "Scully thought I was mad half the time we worked together, but she never handed me cookies and said be a good boy."

Alex smiled, "What do women know about cookies," He replied, taking a bite out of one in his hand.

Mulder smiled and ate his cookie, nodding wisely. "True," he said.

They chewed placidly.

"I went on the run after Will was born. That was right after you died in front of me, by the way. Eventually, I got a tip that the whole of the invasion plans were located in a secure location. I went there, snuck in, and was captured. You were there, I thought, and helped me. My old and long dead contact, who I called Mr. X, was there too. The supposed military held a monkey trial, accusing me of subversion and dereliction of duty. They brought in all kinds of evidence to prove I was insane and wrong all these years about a conspiracy. Skinner acted as my counsel, he got Marita, Reyes, Jeff Spender, and of course, Scully to testify. It didn't matter, Gibson was there and he could see the alien replacements among the judges. Kersh decided he'd backed the wrong horse and helped Skinner and Scully. We escaped and went to follow another lead. I saw my friends, the Gunmen, also dead, along the way."

"We went to a deserted rock dwelling in New Mexico. It was Spender; all along, it was he who had been leading me along. He was crazed, living in absolute isolation, like a wild mountain man. While he was spewing vitriol, Scully and I heard choppers and ran, I think it was the supersoldiers who blasted the place to Kingdom Come, Spender was blown to bits."

"Scully and I stayed on the run, undercover and looked for anything that could help us find a way to head off the invasion. It wasn't scheduled until 2012. Along the way, Scully figured out how Reyes arranged for Will's adoption. She wanted to see Will again. However, when we got there, something happened and Will recognized her and ran away from his parents to us, almost killing himself crossing the street. Once she had him in her arms, she broke down and wouldn't let him go. There was a big commotion, the police came, the adoptive parents were screaming, and Will was crying. I went to the back of the crowd; Scully understood and called Skinner. He sent Reyes and Doggett on the next plane. They came, armed with official papers and all that. Somehow, Kersh covered the arrest warrant for her and for me too. She got Will back and decided she had to make her life with him, for however long we had left. I couldn't stay, the job was not over. It's moot now of course, I am not sure where she ended up with Will, there was no way for her to hide and send me emails when I was still on the run. I had a PO address and sent letters and money there, hoping she had arranged to get it."

"Last year I returned to DC. Skinner is still there, Kersh was killed in an 'accident' in 2003. I'm pretty sure Skinner was still human. He got me some money and the latest info he had on the supersoldiers. They were taking over all the government agencies and there was no one to stop them, or reveal what they were. At the 2004 Presidential Inauguration, I secreted a weapon and got in the crowd. I was sure Bush was a hybrid. I shot him and he flew back a few feet, shook his head, and came after me. Everyone was after me. Several Secret Service agents grabbed me, but took me to Skinner. Once again, he helped me get away, and into a safe house nearby and made sure I wasn't identified. He was charged and sent to prison. I've been trying to get him out since then. He was about to be released, miraculously cleared of charges. That had to be in syndicate's work. The press carried on about what a close hit the president almost took. No one told the truth. The rest you know. The invasion happened; I lived, helped bury the dead for a while, and then headed north."

Alex let out a slow breath that was some tale. He raised an eyebrow and said, "You've been a busy boy," and handed Mulder another cookie.

Alex went to take a nap while Mulder continued to try the radio and said he would prepare dinner too. Alex luxuriated on the bed. Clean sheets, a pillow, a clean body in clean boxers, Alex felt, for the moment, that life still had a few pleasures in it. He thought about Mulder's story, he'd thought he'd seen him and Colonel Mason - a.k.a. X - as ghosts. As far as Alex knew, the others Mulder had seen had never been exposed to the alien oil, but he and the Colonel certainly had and Alex believed that had something to do with the visions. The aliens and their supersoldier counterparts all worked on a kind of hive mentality caused by the properties of the oil. They were all interconnected and since Mulder had alien DNA in his system, he seemed to tune in naturally to some of the stimuli. Alex felt it too, but it was more of a distant noise and itchy sensation.

He felt nothing now and Mulder hadn't said anything either. Alex felt as though he should be feeling something since the aliens were here and active. But, the moment the alien ships had started bombing, he'd been cut off and knew nothing at all about them anymore. Alex yawned. He wondered if Scully and the kid were alive somewhere, he wondered how many people were left anywhere and what the aliens were going to do with the ones, thousands or millions they had collected.

His last thought before sleep claimed him was that he was rather glad Mulder's spooky dream version of him had been helpful.

Mulder woke him, looking pale and excited. "What?" Alex barked out immediately.

"I caught a working station, it's a drone satellite buoy with weather information, but it means everything hasn't been destroyed."

Alex sat up, "That's an unusual oversight, leaving the satellites," he said. "If there is anyone left with know-how, maybe communication will be possible." He wasn't as excited as Mulder was, but it was a hopeful thing to know.

Mulder nodded happily and yawned, sat on the side of the bed, grinning.

"You're exhausted, Mulder." Alex commented, "After dinner you better have a shower and call it a night."

"I didn't know you cared," Mulder said, dryly.

Alex grinned, "If you collapse, who is going to make first contact, Captain Kirk?"

Mulder laughed, "You're all heart, aren't you Alex?"

Mulder went to bed, he'd hardly eaten anything, but Alex didn't bug him about it, rest seemed more important right now. Seeing that it was Mulder, however, Alex found him snoring on the couch in the den, his wet head staining the armrest. He shook his head, constructed a few home made alarms with wires and noisy items and went to bed. He thought about how he started taking care of Mulder and wondered why.

Nothing disturbed the night.

They spent the day exploring the house and grounds more thoroughly. They argued amicably about whether they should simply let the animals run free and survive on their own, or continue to feed them. Alex refused to consider milking the cows, which made Mulder, who had no intention of doing it either, laugh. Mulder asked Alex if he would be willing to slaughter the chickens. Alex glared, "I could kill one if we were going to eat it, but you will have to pluck it and clean it. Mulder shuddered, "Better to wait until we're really, really hungry. Alex agreed.

They stacked anything edible and storable in the kitchen, threw out foods that had already spoiled and made a bonfire to burn it when Alex reminded Mulder there were no garbage pick-ups anymore. They found a deep freezer in the basement, filled with meat and vegetables. Alex essayed that the owner must have slaughtered a pig last winter and put up vegetables last spring.

Alex had the foresight to thaw some ribs and he roasted them over the fire. They ate outside, midday, like wolves, throwing the bones back into the fire. The water hose worked and after the meal and the fire, Alex doused everything, including Mulder, who vowed retaliation when Alex least expected it.

It was a strangely lighthearted day, but they never lost sight of the bigger picture and how the food might very well mean survival and the animals might really be important later. Alex worried about the weather, this kind of heat, in March, would mean flooding and storms later. After the day began to wane, he checked the roof, looking for leaks.

Mulder found fishing rods and equipment in the barn and they decided to take half-day trips, starting the next day, and go further a field.

Alex, happy to find several wickedly sharp fish knives, one a double edged dagger for gutting the fish, kept it and added it to his other boot. Mulder carried his gun.

They began walking at dawn, after Alex insisted that they carry supplies to last them several days and hide some of their best belongings in the nearest wooded area. Mulder protested the extra caution, but Alex said someone could come along and take what they had left behind or even take over the property.

It was pleasant enough; walking to explore rather than survive and Mulder recalled his education and told Alex all about human recuperative abilities after facing traumas. Alex thought he could probably give a course on the subject based on his own experiences. They walked further into the valley, based on Mulder's few scout-like camping recollections that water flowed downward.

They paused to have coffee from a thermos they carried and to debate what kind of bait would work best. Mulder was all for digging up worms and Alex argued that strips of the raw meat he'd saved would work just as well.

They found a small stream, followed it to some rather gentle white water, and decided to fish there. It was companionable and Alex found himself thinking it was rather like a dream or perhaps, a version of Heaven. He had all he needed, had ever needed, a warm day, a full belly, dangers at a distance and a cohort. More, a companion who was Mulder, as Alex had never experienced him.

Alex found himself staring at Mulder. He noted how the shadows from the tree branches bathed Mulder in fluctuating pastels, made the dark pinkish color of his lips take on a rosy hue and add depth and sparkle to his changeable eyes. Alex listened to Mulder talk, not minding the words, just watching his lips and he thought it was like falling in love, this detailed catalogue of the other man. Alex knew he was a man who noted details; danger and mortal peril had taught him this skill, but this was different. He vaguely remembered doing this in a college course, years ago. That time it had also been another boy, he'd beat himself up over what he saw as a perversion - a trick of his mind, and hormones, caused by loneliness.

Once he had a girlfriend, he'd forgotten the aberration and discovered that finding dates was not difficult, and as his world widened, that temporary companionship and sexual situations suited his wanderlust.

He felt a tug at the end of his line. Mulder got excited and was full of advice about reeling in the fish. Alex laughed as he struggled one handed to bring it in, Mulder hovering to catch the fish before it fell into the dirt.

It was a fair sized trout and Mulder pounded his back and made much of his success.

Back in the house, with a belly full of fresh, fried fish, hush puppies and a couple of beers, Alex reviewed the day. Mulder, he could hear, was asleep on the couch and snoring softly. It had been a day out of time. Alex found his hand had a life of its own, stroking his chest, scoring it lightly with his nails, arousing him. It had been a long time since he'd felt this kind of languorous hunger, or respite from trouble and weariness. He gave himself over to the familiar exercise; it didn't bother him anymore to have just one hand. He had adapted. He thought about Mulder, the shifting light and the strange beauty it had created. He thought about Mulder's lips, how plush and sensual they were for a man who spent most of his life angry about one thing or another. Mulder had always been sexy, he thought, even when he was angry, even when he was spitting vitriol at him. His hand was bring him a slapping rhythmic pleasure and he didn't hear Mulder's sudden gasp from the other room, or his groan, or the sounds Mulder made copying exactly what he was doing and joining him, unheard, when the pace sped up and the moment ended.

Alex slept the sleep of a man who had had a full and pleasurable day and appreciated the rarity of it. Mulder, twisted and turned, got up and found a pillow and muttered to himself. He too, slept at last.

The trip the next day was uphill. They wanted to see what was on the other side of the mountain. Each man was lost in his own thoughts, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, and neither noticed the other's abstraction.

This time Mulder didn't quote psalms, instead he sang, "The bear went over the mountain, the bear went over the mountain," until Alex yelled at him to stop driving him crazy. Regardless, as they approached the last few feet to the summit, Mulder sang out, "To see what they could see, and all that they could see," timing it exactly so when they reached the top, "and all that they could see, was... the other side of the mountain..."

Only, it wasn't just the other side of the mountain, it was an unexpected deep ravine to a huge valley floor and it was occupied. Alex dragged Mulder to the ground and they both lay there panting. "Base camp," Mulder whispered. "It's got to be a base camp."

Alex felt his heart leap inside him. He knew he was cursed, one lovely day of pleasure and then the plunge back into hell. "There's got to be ten thousand people, maybe more," He rasped.

"Humans, do you think?"

Alex got his breathing under control, "Who knows at this point," He said. "We don't know why they took people. But, we better be very careful, Mulder, or we might be next on whatever assembly line they have going down there."

Mulder nodded and fished his binoculars out of his pack. Alex was reminded of another time they had done this and his left shoulder twanged sharply in sympathy.

Mulder watched and reported, "All I can see is people milling about, and they look fine, unharmed, and fed. If any of them are supersoldiers, I cannot tell from here. There are barracks in the rear, God, Alex they stretch on for miles. Wait, wait, they're all wearing some kind of tags; different colors, I can't focus on the details, but I think some have words on the tags, or markings."

Alex turned over onto his stomach and Mulder handed him the binoculars. He studied the scene, "There's no obvious security, but that doesn't mean anything. None of the crowd seem to be talking, Mulder, just wandering about silently. Can you believe all this is less than ten miles from where we slept last night?"

Mulder shook his head, it was obvious that he was excited, but, much to Alex's relief, cautious.

"I wish I had some surveillance equipment," muttered Mulder and Alex agreed.

"There's a higher peak to our left," Alex said in an undertone. "We could try that and see what more is visible."

Mulder sighed, "It's a long climb, Alex, and I don't think I want to be this close after dark."

"Let's go back," Alex said. "We can camp at the bottom and go up tomorrow, they're not going anywhere."

They went down the mountain, cutting to the left instead of going to the farmhouse. They found partial protection in an outcropping of rocks and made camp. The two-man tent was made of camouflage canvas, but it was just large enough for them to fit in it. They didn't dare start a fire, but Alex had packed sandwiches and brought fruit. They were both restless and on edge, but that was normal.

Out of the blue, Mulder asked, "Know any of the guards this time, Krycek?"

Alex growled deep in his throat, "Shut up." He said.

Mulder sniffed and Alex wanted to hit him. It seemed so long ago, that decade spent at the old bastard's behest. God he hated that old fucker and was glad he was dead by the same forces he thought he lorded over. Alex had escaped death by the skin of his teeth, an old favor owed to him by one of the scientists who'd lusted after Marita in the old days. He'd set them up and while he'd rotted in a Tunguskan Forest, she'd amused herself with the old fart, robbing his computer of all his secrets while she was at it. But, that info, shared when he thought she was his back up, made up for her betrayal. He'd known what was coming earlier than most and had made himself useful to the drones that morphed into the supersoldiers. They'd agreed he was too valuable to be risked once Scully was near term and as soon as he saw nothing was going to stop Mulder from going after her, they'd sent a clone in his place for the last meeting. He'd watched as Skinner had gunned him down, as Mulder stepped over his bloody corpse and the clean-up crew had distracted Skinner and removed the clone. He'd hightailed it out then, finding a quiet corner of New England to hide in and stay out of sight. They had let him go, warning him that real death was his the next time he came sniffing around, and he'd believed them.

After a few months, he'd found that the mundane life of a security planner was actually not too bad, it paid well and he slept nights. The invasion had been a surprise; he'd thought the timetable was 2012. He had no idea why it happened so previously.

He looked at Mulder, restless, heroic Mulder, taking neat bites of the red apple Alex had handed him. Mulder would convince himself that breaking into the alien fortress was a good idea and expect, although not trust, Alex to go with him.

"I watched you when Skinner killed me," Alex said quietly and Mulder choked. "You didn't give a fuck, Mulder."

Mulder set the apple aside, "No, no, I didn't. You said you 'd tried to kill Scully's baby and a lot of other bullshit. You still had Skinner on a leash, did you expect any of us to trust you, or care if you died?"

"No, I expected nothing from any of you. I fed Skinner a load of crap so he would unhook you from life support and save your life and I gave you the vaccine. I knew you would investigate, but then, like now, you want to rush in and be a hero. You never know when to stop, wait, and watch until you know what the dangers are. I fully expected to die a long time ago, but if you act rashly, it will be both of us."

Mulder shrugged impatiently, "I don't need a babysitter, Alex, whining about danger. I was dead too, remember, and I know the risks."

"Sure," Alex said disbelievingly. "Sure you do."

Mulder fisted his hands, "I do know," he protested. "I want to live, now more than ever. This is a nightmare, but it is a new playing field. The aliens are here and no one can deny it anymore, whoever they are and however they survived. There's still a chance, Alex."

"Does it feel good to be right?" Alex said scathingly. "Is that what it's always been about?"

Mulder kicked a rock and sent it flying into the underbrush. "Fuck you; I forgot you are a coward."

Alex laughed, really laughed. "I am not a coward, I am a survivor, a mighty useful thing to be these days, you know. I want them gone more than you can imagine. But, I won't barge into a situation without facts, and for all we know, none of the people we saw are human anymore."

Mulder calmed down a little; he looked at Alex and thought about these days together. Mulder had to admit this version of Alex had been a surprise. If this was the real man, then there was lot Mulder could lose if he wasn't careful. Before the invasion, before he had been dead and subsequently spent time with Gibson, then Scully and he had been so intimate with on their run together and her gut wrenching decision to stay with Will, all these experiences had changed him. He had always put personal relationships and needs on the back burner. He had always insisted he keep himself paranoid and alone in order to pursue his quest to find Samantha, prove there was a conspiracy and that aliens were real.

The time spent with Alex, perhaps the only person alive who knew him, had been revelatory. The companionship had been pleasant, and the knowledge that he didn't have to protect someone weaker than he, had been liberating. One arm or not, Alex had pulled his weight, had come up with ideas that had made their lives better. Furthermore, Alex knew all the risks and the meaning of the invasion. Even the others, who had survived and helped Mulder bury the dead in DC, had still been disbelieving, wanting other explanations for the holocaust. Mulder believed there were chances to change things again, to find the large numbers of victims who had been taken and may be still alive. Maybe even a chance to rid the planet of the aliens somehow.

And then there had been last night, a new, if not altogether surprising, ramification regarding Alex and himself, and sex. This element was so personal, had hit such a deep chord within him, and opened his eyes once and for all. The world had ended, the world he and Alex knew, had ended. Whatever was in the future, it wasn't going to look anything like the past. There would be no nations, no government, and no FBI. The human/alien conspiracy was powerless and dead, too. Mulder shuffled the rocks with his feet; there was no more time to maybe someday have relationships. It was really now or never and Mulder did not want to be alone.

Maybe it had been meant all along, Mulder thought of the night Alex had come to warn him about Weikamp, the night Scully had given birth, and all the many other times Alex had stuck his nose in Mulder's business. Alex was his counterpart, fighting all along to survive the conspiracy, to bend it into something else. Whether or not his goals had been the same, emotionally he had been trapped the same way Mulder had been trapped.

Mulder thought about all the 'end of the world' science fiction he had watched. What he and Alex were living was not fiction, not anymore.

At last, Mulder sighed, "What do you think we should do?"

Alex Krycek took a deep breath, Mulder had gone away somewhere in his mind and thought things over and he was asking Alex for help and advice. If the world hadn't already gone to hell in a hand basket, Alex thought wearily, it surely would now. "We watch." He said, "We watch a long time and carefully, we determine if they have a schedule, if there are guards, weapons, surveillance. We try to determine if the people in the yard are human, or if they are in the process of being altered or if they are simply cattle waiting for the slaughter. We do not panic and we try to save them all, if they are still human, and not tip our hand to save a few."

"And if they are in immediate danger?" Mulder asked.

"If we can determine that, we will have learned a lot of other things too and we weigh the risks and the benefits. There is no FBI cavalry to win the day. It's just us and we have to figure out what to do if we rescue them. There might be thousands and how would we feed and house them, offer them medical care if they need it. There is everything to learn, Mulder and then consider."

Mulder conceded that all of this was true and the plan safe. He hated to wait, hated being on the outside, but there was no more need to gather proof and bring it back to Skinner and the FBI, there was no more Washington Post or New York Times to publish amazing discoveries, no more panel inquiries where Scully denied what she had seen and made him seem clownishly insane.

"Okay," Mulder said, tossed the apple core into the underbrush and removed his boots, "Let's get some shut-eye, Alex."

"Go ahead," Alex said and sat on a log, "I need a few minutes to unwind."

Alex opened the last beer; there was plenty of water for the next day. He tilted his head and took a long draught, letting it slide down his throat with appreciation. He and Mulder on the same side, at last. He wanted to laugh at the irony. It had taken the destruction of the planet for that to happen, everyone else dead and gone. He remembered the day he'd tossed Mulder the keys to the FBI car, knowing the Smoker's evidence was there, knowing his hiatus as an agent was over and a friendship with Mulder not even begun. He'd wanted to cry out to Mulder and stop him. But, he hadn't and chose the other path. There had been no glory in it, just pain, degradation, and sorrow.

Now, he was going to enter the two-man tent, breathe the same air, and sleep the sleep of the righteous. Sure, he thought as his libido made itself apparent. Maybe he should get a blanket and hang out here on the log. He'd slept in worse conditions just recently.

He heard Mulder do his usual tossing and grunting until he got comfortable and felt himself flush. He wondered if any of the thousands at the base camp were having inappropriate sexual thoughts and realized if they were still human and thought death was at hand, they were fucking anything else human and alive as often as they could. It was the human thing to do.

He barked out a short, quiet laugh. He sincerely doubted Mulder was on the same wavelength.

He put the beer bottle, now empty, back in his pack, stretched, rubbed his shoulder. He wished his prosthetic had survived. He got out of his boots and crawled into the tent.

The tent was small and close, it already smelled like Mulder. Once inside, Alex shimmied around until he was on one side of the sleeping bag and pulled a blanket over himself. The night was warm, too warm for this time of year, but a blanket was comforting once body temperature went down while sleeping. Alex took slow deep breaths, willing himself to calmness and sleep. After awhile, Mulder spoke, "Who did you lose that was important to you, Alex?"

Alex sighed, "I've been alone a long time. Although I could never be sure, I think Schmidt, the fat German, killed my parents, under orders from Spender and Bill Mulder, of course. At the time, we thought it was a car accident. Later, I investigated and there were too many discrepancies. My sisters and I went to relatives. They were still small and fit into my uncle's family, but I was twelve and a pain in the ass. I ended up in a Catholic youth center until I was sixteen. I went to see my sisters, but my uncle claimed I upset them too much and he didn't want me to visit and remind them of our parents. He was decent enough though, and seeing I had calmed down some, he was willing to help me go to college. I went to state college and then transferred to Cornell. I studied Russian and Political Science. Once they were older, my sisters kept in touch. They were both married and had kids. I never went to see them, I didn't want to draw attention to them and make them targets. But, I guess, I lost them long ago. I had a few friends from college and an occasional girl friend, but they all melted away during the years I worked with Spender."

"You're sure my father was involved?"

"Hell yes," He said, but quietly and without heat.

Mulder sighed, "I always hoped he got out before the project got going."

Alex coughed, "He never got out. His drinking made him unstable and he was marginalized. He remained on salary and nominally reviewed plans and such things. As you know, they all lost family members to the project, he adapted to what happened to your sister."

"He knew?"

"Yes, come on Mulder, why would he leave you and Samantha alone at the house and go play cards of all things, when he knew it was the night scheduled for the exchange with the aliens. He didn't take the two of you to the landing site, but he made you both available."

"So, your parents were in on the project too?"

"My father was a geneticist and my mother was a biologist. Supposedly, they worked for a pharmaceutical company. They told me the company helped the family escape from Moscow. All I know for sure is that Spender, Bill Mulder, Schmidt, and others, like the Brit, came to the house from time to time. I was always sent to stay with friends. When I got older and looked into it, I realized it was all smoke and mirrors. Spender came back into my life when I was a senior in college. He offered me a position as a junior aide, for one of their technology company presidents, in Russia. I knew he was a bad person, Mulder, but I thought if I took the job, I could find out the truth about my parents.

"How did you go from junior aide to hit man?"

Alex laughed, "I was always poking into things, and I saw confidential plans for the types of rooms they wanted in the business offices they were planning to build. I followed the trail to an office that handled the actual testing schedules. I chatted up a girl who worked there and she told me about Purity. They planned it all along, of course and she was told to tell me, to bond with me and make me care about her. I did all that and one day, they 'detained her', showing me they had her in a cell and would kill her for telling me about the project unless I came aboard too. I thought I could pretend to join." Alex paused, "I was an idiot. There is no pretending to join a criminal organization with the kind of power they had. I got lost, Mulder. Lost in the violence, the promise of power and by the time I came up for air, it was too late, and I was juggling as fast as I could to stay alive."

"When I was first assigned to you, I thought you were one of them too. For all your 'Spooky' reputation, it looked like you'd carved a way to work for the project under the guise of a FBI agent. It wasn't until you freaked out over Scully's abduction that I began to believe you were actually working against them and it was too late to tell you anything or they would kill her, you, and me too."

Mulder sighed.

Alex sighed.

"They're all dead now, those S.O.B's." Mulder said and grasped Alex's right arm.

"I can't saw I miss them," Alex said.

Mulder choked a laugh. "Me either."

Mulder laid his head against Alex's shoulder and yawned.

"Go to sleep, Mulder." Alex said.

Mulder nodded silently and the tent was quiet.

It was a gentle kind of agony, Alex thought. To be so near to Mulder when he was coming to terms with impulses and desires he'd always eschewed as abnormal for him and beyond reason. Mulder's body felt comfortable lying on his shoulder, as if this were a normal thing and familiar. Alex inhaled and smelled Mulder, he was somewhat earthy and entirely masculine. Alex tried to summon up feminine scents, perfume or body lotion, Marita had used Vanilla Musk, and a girl from long ago had used Charlie. He smiled, Charlie and he'd used Canoe, it had clashed when they sweated in the back seat of his car. He tried to remember the last time he'd bought aftershave and nodded off to sleep, his head resting against the top of Mulder's head.

Their bodies made the tent very warm and Alex woke once in the night and tugged off the blanket. Mulder was still sprawled at his side; his head had slid down and was resting on Alex's chest. Alex felt his body begin to crave something more satisfying than a cuddle, when he fell asleep again to dream of cool blue oceans and white sandy shores.

Mulder woke first, and if he felt anything about cuddling Alex all night, he said nothing about it. He woke Alex and they both found trees, a small distance from the tent, and took their morning leak. Alex wanted a shower. Ever since the silo incident, he had no tolerance for being funky. He grabbed a clean shirt from his pack, and went to find the stream he could hear gurgling in the distance. Mulder followed him and they washed up, the water was warm enough, too warm for normalcy. Mulder stepped up to him as they began to head back to camp and tied the left sleeve of Alex's shirt in a knot so there wasn't so much material flapping around.

Alex still had some bread and cheese in his pack and they ate that with tepid tea.

As they climbed the taller mountain, they began to see the extent of the alien encampment. It was huge and laid out in orderly rows, which extended from a hub made up of three large buildings. People were roaming about, as they had been the day before, seemingly without purpose.

They could not tell from this distance if they people were fully human or not.

"An Uzi would come in handy," Mulder, muttered.

Alex thought a rocket launcher would be even better.

They stayed there all day, watching the camp. There was a pattern, which became apparent. The people from the nearest barracks wandered back to them and another swarm of people exited the next tier. They made their way to the largest of the three buildings and after about an hour, exited again. The next group did the same. "It must be the chow hall," Alex said. "There doesn't seem to be enough of a time lapse for experiments or things like that.

Mulder agreed.

The tide of people coming and going went on all day and into the night and all that time there was only silence from the compound. Alex grew restless; they were all much too drone-like to be normal human beings. "I don't like this," he said to Mulder.

"Me either, maybe they're drugged."

"Yeah," Alex replied, but something stirred in his memory.

Mulder perked up and stared at Alex, "You think of something?"

Alex spoke slowly, "There was a report I came across, and it was in the same files as the information about the nanocytes. The report enumerated why this particular scientist thought it was too soon to use them. He said constant exposure slowed down the processes in the cerebral cortex and the test subjects had reported feeling as if they were in a dense fog or underwater. The rebuttal scientist wrote that it didn't matter as the intended use for the nanocytes was crowd control."

Mulder hummed "That makes sense, if they've found a way for mass applications of the nanocytes. These people don't seem to be in distress or anything."

"You realize, Mulder, this means they probably have one control available to shut off everyone if they are under attack, either by killing them or by reversing the process and making them all manic or something."

Mulder nodded.

They made their way down the mountain and towards their house in the valley. They walked most of the night, but the moonlight was bright and they could see their way. They didn't talk much, each considering what the best plan would be for what to do next.

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
Pablo Neruda

They decided to breach the compound and see if the people there were human or could be rescued, or could tell them anything. They chose an area closest to a tier of barracks near the middle. They would go in when that group returned from the hub. The timing was as safe as they could manage; this group went to the hub right before sunset and returned at dusk. Alex and Mulder packed carefully: the tent, enough food, and drink for several days and they brought their guns and knives.

They set out at dawn in order to get down the mountain and into place with time to observe that the compound's schedule remained the same. Everything went according to plan, as dusk approached and they could see the group of silent people return towards the barracks, they slid under the fence.

Within moments, it all turned to shit. Mulder grabbed his forehead and screamed, the inmates began to push and shove each other, and a loud alarm went off, blasting the camp with high-pitched screeches. Lights turned on and Alex thought they were in hell, under the floodlights, people teemed about, the noise was unbearable, and Mulder rolled on the ground clutching his head.

Alex grabbed Mulder's arm and began to drag him back towards the fence. He had no leverage to pick Mulder up and Mulder was resisting. Alex dragged Mulder and felt as if his right arm was going to fall off. Mulder was heavy and heaving. Alex took out his gun and smacked Mulder's temple. Mulder went limp. Alex summoned all his strength and crouched, hefting Mulder over his shoulder. He could not run with the weight, but he moved as swiftly as he could to the fence. He manhandled Mulder and pushed him through the fence; they were both torn up and scraped before he was through.

Panting and cursing, Alex rolled Mulder into the tent. He knew he couldn't run, toting Mulder, should they be pursued. He drank some water, wet a rag, and cleaned up Mulder's face. Mulder was coming around, but Alex was prepared to knock him out again if he started to scream. Mulder opened his eyes, in the dim light of the candle Alex had lit, his eyes looked huge, dilated, and shiny with tears.

Something in Alex's chest turned over, as if he'd wrenched it, he rubbed it absently and watched Mulder. Mulder licked his lips and Alex trickled some water into his mouth. Mulder tried to get up and Alex pushed him down. "What happened?" Mulder, asked in a whisper.

"As soon as we went through the fence, you collapsed, alarms went off, the people got agitated, and the place lit up."

"You got me out?" Mulder said, his eyes widening further.

"Yeah, you weren't transported here by Scotty."

Mulder reached for the canteen and took a long drink, "You saved my life."

Alex shrugged and as he watched Mulder bite his lip, that thing in his chest ached. "Can you remember what happened to you?"

Mulder frowned, "There was a very bright flash, and I could hear screaming, saw massive death, like when the aliens came, and felt overwhelming sorrow. It was very loud and it hurt."

Alex thought for a moment while Mulder drank some more. "It's got to be a force field, invisible, but laid out where the fence is. Why you feel it and I don't, I don't know, but your brain has additional properties."

Mulder nodded. "I'm tired," he said, as simply as a child.

"Then rest," Alex replied and covered Mulder with the blanket. "I'll keep watch."

Mulder licked his lips once more, and Alex could see they were sore, as if in his frenzy, Mulder had bitten them.

Alex watched him fall asleep and once his breath became regular, Alex crawled out of the tent, washed his own face, paced a circle around the tent, and sat down on a log to keep watch. He found himself rubbing his chest, above his heart. He peered at the skin in the moonlight, but there was nothing, no mark, no bruise.

He heard Mulder mumble and turn over. He felt a strong urge to go look at him, but he squashed it. Mulder was okay, it had been a close call, that's all.

The night passed quietly, Alex ate some of the sandwiches, and paced to keep himself awake. There was no pursuit.

Mulder woke near dawn and came out, pissed at a nearby tree and said, "Get some rest Alex, I feel fine."

Alex got up and walked to the tent, Mulder looked ragged and a little pale, maybe a bit frail, but he was in his right mind and awake and Alex was exhausted. "Don't be a hero," Alex said and made to crawl into the tent.

Mulder stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, "You saved my life," Mulder said. "Thanks."

Alex nodded once and crawled into the tent. It smelled like Mulder, earthy, warm, like home.

Later, while they ate and packed up to return home, they discussed what had happened. The best Mulder could come up with was that the force field was integral to the control the aliens had over the population. Alex agreed, but went further, "When you were abducted, it was because the force field reached out to you and drew you inside. Here, the force field rejects you."

Mulder hummed, thinking. "It rejected Scully, although, at the time, I thought it was coming for her. That time they only wanted people who had actually experienced mental anomalies or aphasiac interaction with them. You were exposed, Scully was exposed, but neither of you had brainstorms. But, I get what you mean, why does it affect me and not you this time. Maybe it has something to do with why we survived. No, that can't be right, there were several hundreds of others who survived in DC, and they couldn't have all been exposed."

"Maybe it has more to do with who was chosen." Alex said. "We know they have accounted and tracked most humans by their smallpox vaccines, which would leave out anyone born after 1979 and I don't see all those young people, do you? In the USA, they added that data to Social Security numbers. In other countries, I am sure they employed similar devices. I wish we could find out if tribes or religious sects who were never given the smallpox vaccines survived. Anyway, this time, maybe it was those with certain blood types or genome particulars that were chosen and it had nothing to do with exposure, in whatever form. On the other hand, Mulder, maybe more people, many, many, more people were exposed and no one ever knew. I saw nothing to indicate that, but then, I had no idea about the invasion coming this soon either."

Mulder rubbed his face. "The force field acted like the magic square pieces did, Alex, and I only saw a rubbing, not a real piece. I can't go back inside the fence, it overtakes me completely, and I am helpless."

Alex muttered, "Yeah, I know."

"I'm sure you do," Mulder said, but without heat or sarcasm.

'It's useful to know," Alex continued. "I always wondered why the aliens hung around doing small shit at the behest of the Syndicate. Why would they? They could have taken the alien fetus back anytime, wiped out the labs and the project, and killed the old men. I don't believe the bastards were sentimental, they handed over family members and counted it as the cost of doing business. What did the aliens want or need? If the force field is a valuable commodity, if that energy is what they live on or need for transport, maybe what they needed all along was the magic square, or any pieces of that ancient ship. Maybe they tried to duplicate it in human brains, intending to use it somehow or harvest it."

Mulder stopped in his tracks. "Spender tried to implant some in his own brain. He seemed to believe it would enable him to communicate with the aliens. But, he already did, least-away he did with the ones who could speak English. What if he wanted the whole picture, to read their minds and know what they knew. Gibson could hear them naturally, and communicate too. He told me they were orderly thinkers, not swayed by emotions or anything except their goals. He said they did not have debates about what was good, evil, right, or wrong. He said the drones, like Jeremiah Smith, were different, that they had been on earth so long they had evolved some distance from the rest who came later. However, the Bounty Hunters were the same race as the drones and they had no epiphany. I am missing pieces of this puzzle, Alex, I always have. What were all the experiments supposed to accomplish? Were they human run in order to create hybrids that would survive an invasion? Were they alien managed to create super-soldiers to take over the planet and if so, what is the end game?"

Alex smiled, remembering a time when he had told Mulder there was no truth. He still believed that sentiment. Like every other human endeavor, the plans had been argued, subverted, gone awry or personalized and kept secret. "There was no one plan, Mulder. I believe they each took pieces of the alien possibilities and worked towards their own ends. Maybe they all started on the same page, but fifty years passed and the old bastards wanted to live forever. Spender certainly wanted power over life and death. He had no conscience at all and no plan was too brutal for him to consider. He ended up on top for a while, but the creation of the super-soldiers came at him from left field. Strughold did terrible things with humans, but saw a greater possibility for world dominance in flora and fauna, control the environment and control the world. I think the Brit, and I never knew his name, actually believed that humankind would benefit, although he certainly hated most of humanity and was a ruthless bastard. Who knows?"

Mulder, unexpectedly, grinned. "I have always wanted to have this argument." He confessed, "And I wanted it on the record in front of the skeptics, Congress and the FBI."

Alex grinned back, and patted Mulder on the head, he said tonelessly, "I, Alex Krycek, do solemnly swear that a huge quasi- governmental syndicate of ruthless men did exist and attempted to take over the planet earth using alien technology and alien assistance. Furthermore, I confess to working for and with these men until the truth, that in the end, humanity would be annihilated, became apparent. After that, I worked on my own, with few positive results, until the invasion took place and it all became moot."

Mulder stared at him, "Alex Krycek, you are under arrest for consorting with a power crazed Syndicate who committed acts of treason and subversion against the United States of America." He paused, "In other words, Alex, your ass is mine."

Alex held out his hand and waggled it, "Got any cuffs?"

Mulder shoved him and Alex shoved back, they called out insults all the way down the mountain.

They grew serious once more as they approached the house. They dropped their packs in the living room and Alex turned on the hose and watered the shrubs by the front door as Mulder tossed feed to the chickens. They sat on the front steps, drinking beer and soberly watched the sunset.

"What do you know about what they did to my brain?" Mulder asked.

"Not much," He said, "It was a project they tested in the late fifties and early sixties. They found that attempting to alter the DNA in a person killed them. So, they decided to try it with fetuses. They added specific amounts of alien DNA into thousands of them, most died, another seventy-five percent died soon after birth. They got nervous that the high number of miscarriages and infant deaths would be noted and cause an outcry. They were using wives of active duty military personnel and although they had spread the tests among many military hospitals, it was being noticed. The few babies who survived exhibited significant abnormalities, and all of them had nervous system malfunctions. It was labeled as epilepsy. They gave it up and went on to try other things, like the Cole case proved."

"I wasn't like that," Mulder said.

Alex put down the beer bottle, "I never saw your file, but when you were catatonic because of the magic square, I heard your mother and Spender talking." He took a deep breath, "She was in a panic, and said Spender had promised your childhood seizures would never return. He tried to tell her that this was different, but she wasn't buying it. She knew a little bit, only that they had tampered with fetuses, yours included. Spender fed her a lot of double talk, reassured her that he could bring you back from the coma state. She was angry, but had no other options and you were near death. She cursed him, but she said he better fix it or she would finally talk"

Mulder sat as if turned to stone. "I was never sure what she knew," was all he said.

They went inside, made a simple meal, bathed, and went to bed, Mulder on the couch as usual.

In the dark, Mulder asked, "What about you?"

Alex took his time, remembering his thoughts about his school days, "I was born after my parents defected. My father died, or was killed, when I was seven. He was a securities engineer at a biotech company, but it was really a syndicate lab. He had been very happy to be in the US and joined in all the American pastimes. My mother hated it here. She found English difficult to learn. She was a qualified biologist and couldn't get work, and it was the age of the working mothers, and she stayed home. She remarried, a Janos Arntzen, a geneticist, he was okay. They put me in a Catholic school, and she had three babies in five years. I hated the school, and felt that the babies had taken my place. My mother refused to talk about my birth father. She got rid of all the photos too. I was displaced, lonely, and jealous."

Alex turned onto his side and looked out the bedroom window into the dark night. "Arntzen worked for them too. We moved into a big house when I was twelve. The babies, all girls, were sort of fun now that they were older and able to play and do things. Arntzen was a mild tempered man and he was kind, if mostly uninterested in me. He did convince my mother to let me go back to public school. I did all the usual things, sports, science fair and played tenor sax in the band. I was a normal kid, Mulder."

"When I was twelve," Alex paused to take a breath. "Both my parents were killed. I do not know why, what they did or why they were a threat. My uncle, my father's brother, came for us. I was angry, confused, and not about to bend to his rules. He sold our house and bought a bigger one for himself and a new car. I felt he was profiting from my mother's death. I acted out, at school and home and I was sent to a Catholic reform school until I was sixteen."

I went to state college and made good grades. I majored in Russian and Political Science. I was all set to intern with Senator Mathews; he headed the Foreign Affairs subcommittee, when I went to a FBI recruitment seminar. They came and talked to me a few days later, Russia was in turmoil after Yeltzin, and the Russian mobs were taking hold in the US. The FBI sounded more interesting, so I went to the academy."

"My uncle died, I believe it was natural this time. My aunt fell to pieces and the girls were lost. Taking leave, I went home, and tried to get their affairs in order. That's when Spender found me. He said I would work on his special projects, as an agent, and he would set my aunt, cousins, and sisters up for life. I recognized he was a bad guy from my early childhood, but it seemed above board, if secretive. I got them settled and went back to the academy. Soon after that, I was called into a meeting with Deputy Director Blevins and Spender. I told you earlier, I was set up to find out things and was pressured to 'join'. This was the nail in the coffin, all these years later; I still can't see what else I could have done and my relatives were safe." Alex sighed.

"Go on," Mulder said softly from the other room.

"I spent the next ten months in special training. It was cool at first, hand-to-hand combat, weapons training, and computer classes. I refused to think why I was getting lessons in assassination techniques and urban survival training and chalked it up to possible covert spy shit that Spender might have me do later."

"I was supposed to train directly under Spender after that, but something happened and he assigned me to the Cole case. I was told to watch you carefully and report if anyone contacted you and gave you classified documents. I didn't have to be a genius to figure out that there was a leak somewhere and Spender wanted it closed. I didn't see it as betrayal Mulder, either to the FBI or to you. Spender was obviously cleared and backed up by Blevins and what did I know about covert operations anyway. I recovered the file, reported that Scully continued to work with you regardless of her transfer, and waited. Now, my training got serious. I was taken to genetic labs, aircraft engineers, farms with experimental crops and told that this was all secret government business. I was told that protecting these secrets put me on a special task force and that I would report directly to Spender, no matter who was in my official FBI chain of command."

Alex started when Mulder came into the bedroom and sat on the side of the bed. He was speechless when Mulder put his hand on his good shoulder and said, "What happened next?"

"You know," Alex muttered.

"Tell me anyway."

"I was told to work the Duane Barry situation and stick by you as you investigated him and handled the hostages." Alex felt his heartbeat quicken, following orders seemed so hollow an excuse after everything else had happened. "Aliens! Aliens, Mulder what the fuck, aliens, it was impossible and crazy, as crazy as Barry."

Mulder chuckled, "Yeah, crazy." And Alex found himself laughing too.

They sobered quickly and Mulder yawned. "So, we gonna sleep together or what?" He said.

Alex was speechless, had he really heard what Mulder said or as it a figment of his tired imagination, "Wha... What?" He stuttered.

Mulder hemmed and hawed for a few minutes, plucking at the sheet. "Do you want to try it? You know, sleep, uh, sex?"

"With you?" He said dumbly.

"I'm not talking about the Tooth Fairy here, Alex."

Alex laughed, simply laughed until his sides ached.

Mulder coughed, pulled back the sheet, and got in the bed. Alex went silent immediately.

"We don't have to do anything right now," Mulder muttered.

"Uh, okay," Alex, said.

"Okay then," Mulder answered, yawned again and turned on his side, taking most of the sheet with him.

Alex remained wide-awake. How had this happened? Had Mulder sensed his interest when he was experiencing the mind-blowing force field? He'd never really had a fantasy come true before and this was disconcerting. Alex listened to Mulder breathe. So now what, he asked himself. Nebulous sexual thoughts did not add up to experience or know-how. He'd never even kissed another man, for God's sake. Were he and Mulder going to kiss, simply grabbing each other's dicks, and jerking off seemed awfully crass? Alex grinned, crass or not, the idea of Mulder's hand on his cock sounded wonderful. He yawned and began to fall asleep, when he woke suddenly; surely, Mulder did not expect to fuck him? Alex shifted away from Mulder. He made himself calm down; nothing was going to happen without mutual exploration. He was sure Mulder had no experience either.

Mulder turned over, and was close again. Alex took deep breaths. A few moments later, Mulder laid his arm over Alex's chest. Alex exhaled. This was fine, nice even.

Alex woke first. It was near dawn and that lavender, particular of early mornings, was lightening. It was already warm. Mulder was lying on his back, his mouth slightly open, but not snoring. Alex could smell him, nighttime sweat, and musk. The sheets were gone and Alex could see the outline of Mulder's morning erection through his boxers. He had a woody himself, which he arranged more comfortably, deliberately not encouraging it.

He'd seen Mulder's chest before, and never paid attention. He looked at the light smattering of hair, freckles and softly defined abs. It was a nice chest, Alex thought it would feel good to touch it, but he wasn't sure he wanted more than that. He'd liked breasts, nuzzling them, kneading them. It wasn't the same at all.

Alex got out of bed, it wasn't that he was having second thoughts, it was just that, for once in his life, he was unsure where to start. He and Mulder were virtually alone in the world, for now at least. So, this wasn't going to be a hit and run one night stand. Mulder was complicated enough and Alex's feelings for Mulder were also complicated. Maybe adding sex to the mix wasn't the smartest thing to do.

The years alone in Maine, working a regular job, meeting ordinary people, mowing the small yard of his condo, he'd changed. He'd found some remaining semblance of normalcy in himself and he'd liked it. Living on the edge had included sacrifices that he hadn't paid willingly. He rubbed his shoulder.

Now he was on the edge of all edges, Armageddon had come and he and Mulder were way out on the rim of the cliff. To fall, to fail, meant to be alone forever and death was better than that was.

He looked at Mulder, still asleep and defenseless. Mulder shifted, his legs falling further apart and Alex flushed, his erection suddenly full, tight, and aching. He could get on top of Mulder; he thought, and just hump on him until he came. Now, the male body looked more appealing, he wouldn't have to worry about his own strength or gentleness. Mulder would arch up and rub back. They could wrestle their way to completion and fall where they lay, no apologies needed. Alex smiled wryly, men were dogs, and another man would have to agree.

Mulder opened his eyes, luminous in the lavender dawn and Alex felt his heart turn over once again. Mulder smiled, his hand going to his groin and staring at Alex's erection at the same time. "Come back to bed," he practically purred and without any coyness, pulled his boxers off and opened his arms.

Alex decided to be as bold as Mulder, what else could he do? He shucked his pants and stood for a moment, aware of the asymmetry of his body, but Mulder was licking his lips. Saying a mental, 'to hell with it', Alex climbed back onto the bed.

Mulder leaned up and grabbed Alex by the shoulders, pulling him down to the heat of his chest and holding on, more in a body hug than a sexual maneuver. He licked Alex's shoulder and bit down, not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to get Alex's attention and Alex groaned.

Alex wondered what happened to his hesitancy, or Mulder's lack of experience. Mulder nipped his shoulder and Alex groaned, burrowing into Mulder's chest for more contact. It was more like wrestling than making love, Alex thought distantly and stopped thinking and gave himself up to the first contact he'd had in years. At first, they rocked against each other, reaching frenzy quickly. Mulder rolled them over and Alex arched and Mulder humped. They didn't kiss on the lips, but licked and bit whatever skin they could find, and grasping for purchase, rolled over and over across the bed.

"Fuck, Alex!" Mulder exclaimed when Alex's thigh pressed against Mulder's cock. Alex liked it so much he did it again, Mulder laughed low in his throat, and finally, finally, he reached and took Alex's penis in his hand.

"Christ!" Alex gasped and Mulder laughed again, and began to pump him and Alex, propped on Mulder's shoulder, reached with his right hand, and returned the favor. Alex had a moment to think how strange this felt, being jerked off, but not by his own hand. Yet his hand was doing the exact motions at the same time.

They both panted and writhed beneath the other's hand, desperate for more contact, more sensation. They were almost face to face, with little room save for their hands between them. Alex closed his eyes and leaned in, capturing Mulder's warm lips. He kissed Mulder as if they had been lovers forever, with no hesitation, no testing the match. He dove in, Mulder caved in, and they explored each other's mouths roughly, thoroughly and with a fierce sort of joy.

They came simultaneously in a hot flood, panting for a few minutes until they released each other and lay back on the bed, separate, but close, arm against arm and Alex was content.

Mulder indolently swirled the mess on his belly around with two fingers. Alex thought he looked like a somnolent cat that had rolled around in spilled milk. He wanted to kiss him again, those plush, red, bitten lips. Their eyes met and before Mulder could make a remark, Alex kissed him.

When he lay back, out of breath once again, Mulder turned on his side and traced Alex's face, rubbing the morning stubble backwards, making him shiver. At last, Mulder whispered, "Wow."

"Yeah," Alex said. "Wow."

'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

Selections from Charge of the Light Brigade
Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Eventually, they rose, washed, dressed, and ate breakfast. Mulder went to fiddle with the radio while Alex fed the livestock and cursed them as he cleaned the coop. They had no plans for the day, Mulder wasn't pushing to go exploring and look for a Ham Radio set up, and Alex was glad. He thought deeply about what had happened at the base camp; why the people were so docile, why the alarms went off, why the aliens needed the humans. He shook off the urge to think about what was happening between him and Mulder and what would happen next. It hadn't been that strange, he thought, the feel of Mulder's cock in his hand. He shook his head and scrubbed the cage.

After the work was done, Alex decided lunch would be omelets made from the eggs he'd just collected. He made them with cheese and frozen peas. He called Mulder and they ate. Mulder got up and cleared the table. He stared at Alex until he wondered what was up.

"Where is the magic square, Alex?" He asked.

Alex gaped. Mulder sat down at the table again, spreading his palms flat, "One, it is valuable and maybe the key to negotiations with the aliens. Two, maybe it can break the hold over the hostages and we can free them. Three," he paused and looked nervous, "Maybe the real thing will open my mind and I will know what is happening."

"Maybe they will make you catatonic and then dead," Alex said sourly.

Mulder sighed, "I know it must be found, I know it the way I have always 'known' things and if that gift is from the aliens to begin with, it makes even more sense."

Alex got up and paced. He hated this. Yet, he knew Mulder well enough not to doubt he was on to something. That the something was life threatening and crazy was simply a given. He didn't want to go back east and dig in the ruins. He didn't want to find it, or find it was lost or gone either. "It's in a lead box, buried in Bill Mulder's grave." He said and went outside, slamming the door behind him.

He stayed outside all morning, hammering fence rails back in place, nailing siding back on the house. He sweated and cursed fate, Mulder, and the aliens. The serene countryside did not comfort him now and the idyllic hideaway not hid dangers of all sorts, to his health and to his heart.

It was two o'clock before he went back inside, grabbed the jug of tea, and sat down. There was a plate of sandwiches on the table and he gobbled one down, ignoring how it stuck in his throat like a lump.

Mulder was in the dining room, a map of the US spread in front of him on the large table. "We're here," Mulder, said, point at the map and marking the place with a red pen. "We should walk back to Rhode Island, it's about three hundred miles, averaging fifteen miles a day, we could get there and back in a little over a month."

Alex didn't say anything, Mulder gave him a wide-eyed look and continued, "most of the route is on the turnpike and highways, the same way we came here."

"Mulder," Alex began in a low voice.

"I could go alone; you know, and leave you here to keep watch on the camp." Mulder said hurriedly.

Alex sighed and put his hand on Mulder's shoulder, "We aren't Lewis and Clark, you know. The journey could put us in all kinds of danger."

Mulder nodded and leaned into Alex's hand.

Alex shook his head, "We plan this as intelligently as possible. We could go faster on bikes, but that would mean taking only what we can carry instead of the larger shopping carts. Food and water are a problem; both are heavy to carry and who knows if we can find more. We take medical supplies and find a pharmacy somewhere. I want some drugs, in case you are overcome, haloperidol maybe, and morphine, whatever. If you suddenly turn into an alien, I'm gonna kill you."

Mulder laughed, "Okay, Alex. We will do it your way. Finding bikes is a great idea, we could go fifty miles a day or more."

"Great," said Alex unhappily.

"It will be fine," Mulder replied, energized now that he had gotten his way.

Alex let the animals out of the yard, he left food for them, but it wouldn't last a month or however long they would be gone. He found a dog feeder that released food when the weight changed and filled it with chicken feed. He opened the coop. He put up storm windows and found the water main switch; in the morning, he would turn that off too. He sat on the fence and brooded. Mulder went to look through the other houses in the valley on his own. If he found bikes he could bring them back himself.

The journey here had been hard enough; he dreaded what going back would be like.

Mulder found bikes, rather excellent mountain bikes, and a tire pump. They packed their backpacks, adjusted the seats, tied additional stuff to the handlebars, drank the last of the beers, and ate an enormous supper. Alex was mostly silent, but Mulder was ebullient, telling stories about biking through England when he was at school there, and teaching Samantha how to ride when they were kids.

"This isn't a pleasure cruise," Alex said at last and Mulder calmed down. He took to touching Alex a lot, every time he passed him a dish or went to the sink or the refrigerator.

When they met at the sink to rinse the dishes, Mulder kissed Alex. Alex responded at first and then shoved Mulder away. "You don't have to bribe me," He hissed.

Mulder had the gall to look hurt, and Alex shoved him again.

They went to bed in silence. Mulder curled his body around Alex, but made no other move and Alex, still pissed, eventually fell asleep.

Deep in the night and thinking, at first, that he was dreaming, Alex felt a hand stoking his chest and lower, playing near his bellybutton and gently pulling the hair at his groin. He moaned and kept his eyes shut. He heard Mulder whisper, "I think I was always curious, Alex. I wanted to know if you would melt and how you would taste." He kissed the back of Alex's neck. "I wanted to know if your dick was bigger than mine or if you were circumcised. I used to hate thinking about it, but the angrier I got at you, the more I wanted to beat the crap out of you, the stronger the thoughts became. I told myself it was a way of coping with unresolved anger and pain. That it was normal and I was doing it not to feel unmanned by you and the things you knew and did. College was full of gay boys, and I stopped noticing the difference, going my own way with girls. When I got back to the states and there was so much anti-gay sentiment, I just stayed clear of it all. Of all the things that the FBI threw at me to keep me silent, there was never a hint of accusation about homosexuality, and of course, I wasn't. Then you came into the picture and I remembered those college boys rhapsodizing about other boys." Mulder was palming Alex's cock, playing his fingers up and down, teasing him. "I wanted to know, and there was Scully, untouchable, disbelieving Scully who moralized about poor Skinner getting laid during his divorce. I thought about you, how hot and hard you would feel in my hand, in my mouth. God, Alex." Mulder picked up the pace and Alex thrust to the counter pull on his cock and let Mulder jerk him off.

Alex came hard after a few minutes and Mulder bit his neck and groaned too. "This is no bribe," Mulder said hoarsely, and began to rub his erection on Alex's ass. "We don't need games here."

Alex reached behind him and found Mulder's bare cock, already swollen and damp. He made a fist around it and Mulder fucked into it and came very quickly.

Afterwards, he turned over and they kissed. Alex grew aroused again and Mulder chuckled deep in his throat. He climbed on top and spread Alex's legs wide. They were cock to cock and they found a rhythm. Alex thought it was too much and not enough at the same time. He put his arm around Mulder and tried to grind harder. Mulder scooted up and Alex was suddenly sliding back and forth between Mulder's ass cheeks. It was hot and sweaty and the Mulder cried out when Alex's dick bumped against his anus.

Alex reached around, only knowing he wanted in, didn't care which hole it was and wanted it to happen now. He pulled at Mulder's ass, opening the valley and reared up. He breached Mulder's ass and Mulder cried out again, but bore down despite any pain. And, he was inside and it was so hot and tight and wet enough to fuck. So he did, he fucked Mulder hard, with no thought of causing harm, or discomfort. He fucked Mulder as if he owned him, his hips leaving the bed to thrust up, up and in and, "Jesus Christ," Alex yelled and came so hard he saw red behind his eyelids.

When he opened his eyes again, Mulder was still sitting on him, his hand on his cock, his eyes wide and shocked. Alex didn't ask if he was okay, he thrust up again, as an after effect, and Mulder but his lip. Alex pushed Mulder off and to his left side and turned, slipped down, grasped Mulder's cock and covered it with his mouth. He refused to think about what he was doing, simply tongued the head, and sucked it in and out, Mulder trembled, Mulder cursed, and Mulder came.

Alex choked a bit, but he'd swallowed worse tasting things in his life.

They didn't discuss what they had just done, Alex crawled back up the bed, put his head on his pillow and closed his eyes. Mulder got up, went to the bathroom for a few minutes, returned, and did likewise.

Mulder was the first to rise the next morning. It was already a very warm day. Like Alex had the day before, he checked the animals, and stared out into the valley. Alex, who had risen a few minutes later, watched him from inside the house. Quietly, they gathered the last of their supplies and headed out. They rode the bikes until the mountainside got too steep and then walked to the highway. The cars, trucks, and debris were still scattered everywhere.

They rode east and took another highway north, avoiding the tunnel. The morning grew hotter and they stopped and rested in the shade of a smashed tollbooth. Mulder kept track of how far they traveled by looking out for mile markers that hadn't been destroyed. They made thirty-four miles before dark. They had seen no one and had not stopped to inspect any of the wreckage for more supplies. They would do that when they needed something.

"Tomorrow we will make New York State," Mulder said as they pitched the tent and chose which food to eat that evening.

Alex grunted. He was tired and sore and his right shoulder ached from having to keep his balance on the bike. He flexed his hand and Mulder saw him. He came near, took Alex's hand, and massaged it. It was the first time they had touched since the night before.

When he was done, Mulder stayed next to Alex and leaned his head on the armless shoulder, his arm around Alex's waist. They watched the last of the color leach from the sky and the stars appear.

"If this wasn't about life, death, and saving the planet," Mulder said with a hint of humor in his voice. "I could imagine a holiday doing this."

Alex smiled and relaxed into Mulder's embrace. "I'm not angry with you Mulder," He said. "I hate what we have to do and worry about what the damn square could do to you."

"There are too many questions without answers," Mulder began.

"Let's not get into that," Alex interrupted. "For tonight, let's be on that holiday."

Mulder chuckled a bit nervously, "I think I might have a headache."

Alex laughed, "Is that what you want to call it?"

Mulder shifted, easing his buttocks on the hard stone that sat on.

Alex took a swallow of water and muttered softly, "I didn't intend any pain, Mulder. Actually, I didn't intend what happened, it just happened."

"We don't have to talk about it," Mulder said and exhaled audibly.

Alex smiled and blew out a breath in exaggerated relief, "Good."

Mulder laughed.

"I went home a few times since my father died," Mulder said without a trace of accusation in his voice. "I tried to get my mother to open up and tell me what she knew, but she never did, and never confirmed who my biological father really was. She committed suicide, did you know?"

Alex looked at Mulder; this was intimacy at its most acute. "No, I did not know that."

"Yeah, she had cancer, a particularly painful cancer and she chose to end her suffering. Whatever she knew, Alex, she did suffer every moment since Sam went missing."

"I met her once," Alex said, if Mulder could go there, he could too.

Mulder sat up straight, "You did?"

"Yeah, in Spender's office, years ago, before everything. She was looking through a thick file and arguing with him. I could feel the tension when he told me to come in. He did not introduce me, but he told her who I was and that I had just begun to work for him. She glared at him and told me to get another job."

Mulder smiled humorlessly. "I wish she had told me. I find it hard to forgive her, she watched me work so hard to learn things she knew."

Alex sighed, "She couldn't tell you Mulder. It would make her culpability real and she wouldn't have wanted to have to face that."

"Yes, I'm sure you're right, but she was my mother too, not just Sam's."

"Forgive her Mulder," Alex said softly.

"I don't know if I can, Alex. It's such a long list."

"You've already started with me, keep going."

"Who's trying to reform who here?" Mulder joked.

Alex smiled, "You're a nut; did you know that?"

"It's been mentioned occasionally. Let's get some sleep."

Alex got up and went to the tent, glad the conversation was over; intimacy was hard work.

In the morning, they bathed in a small gully created by a downed piece of highway, which had toppled sideways and broke through the side of a water tower.

Alex liked looking at Mulder now that he was beginning to know his body so well. But, it was Mulder who spoke first, "A tattoo, Alex?" He teased, "On you ass too, weren't you afraid it could identify you?"

Alex put his hand on his right buttock; he'd forgotten that particular foolishness. "Well," Alex said, trying to be cool and equally teasing, "It's not a butterfly or a flower or anything."

Mulder laughed, "Did you know Scully had a snake tattoo also?"

Alex dropped his hand, "No way."

"Yes way," Mulder said. "She got it with some guy she picked up who had ketamine poisoning and tried to kill her."

"She didn't have a lot of luck with men," Alex said.

Mulder glared at him, "She had an ouroboros, at the base of her spine. I think she meant it to represent how we never got anywhere."

Alex shrugged, he'd bet she meant getting anywhere with Mulder, but he didn't say so out loud. He knew Mulder had loved Scully, and the child that they believed was theirs. He knew that Mulder carried their loss, along with Samantha's, close to his heart. He wasn't jealous, had never been jealous, but he'd sneered at her interference and disbelief more than once. She had held Mulder back, he thought, in many ways. She had also had his back and kept him alive, so he didn't hate her.

"Why did you choose a crucified snake?" Mulder asked.

"I took an overview of Western Religion course in college, and it comes from the biblical story of Moses, who erected a brazen snake as a charm against plague. After Tunguska, it seemed apt, and I was drunk a lot while I got used to having one less arm."

"Yes, yes," Mulder said, "The brazen snake, it was used in alchemy as well, purifying toxic substances, like Mercury, and making it safe to use."

Alex shrugged and pulled on his pants, he'd forgotten it was even there because it represented a very bad time in his life. "It hasn't helped, has it?" He said bitterly, "The plague has come and infected the whole world."

Mulder dressed, "We're going to find a cure somehow."

They set out, cycling around the destruction when they could, or walking the bikes through it when they couldn't. Mulder kept track of the miles.

They crossed the state border and the landscape got rougher, higher mountains, a fiercer wind and, by afternoon, an unrelenting heat. Fortunately, they found enough food and drink as they needed it, making a strange diet, but livable.

On the ninth day, they saw the people. It was a roughly made caravan of sorts, made of baskets, carts and large wagon, pulled by a mule and a strong looking young man. Several more people walked beside it, each carrying, or dragging some baggage. Getting off the bikes Alex fingered the gun in his belt and Mulder did the same. The other company stopped as well, about twenty feet between them.

The young man pulling the wagon spoke first, "Hello?" He said it cautiously.

Mulder stepped forward, "I am Mulder," He said. "This is Alex Krycek. How did you get here?"

The young man put down the ropes he had around him to pull the wagon. "I am Jim Haley, and this is my wife MaryAnn," He said pointing to the young woman in the wagon. She was badly injured, he arm and leg in makeshift casts, her face bruised.

The other people, six in all, introduced themselves. They were from Binghamton, Vermont, and were making their way west. The aliens had come there too, bombing the population they had not already captured. They had found each other while burying the dead and had decided to stay together.

They sat down, shared water and food and Mulder explained who he was. They didn't laugh when he explained about the aliens, but it was obvious they did not believe him. After a while, Mulder gave up. He and Alex explained about the path they had traveled and why they were returning east. The group listened, but the young man got up, as if he were protecting them. "Maybe you're on to something," He said doubtfully. "But there is nothing back the way we came. We did not see any camps, people, or aliens. All we saw was destruction. We figure to go to California."

Alex ended the discussion, "It's as good a place as any. Believe us or not, watch out for the kind of compound we described and keep away from it. We do not know if they would kill you or take you prisoner as well. And," He said soberly, "Hot spell or whatever we are experiencing, keep clothing for cold weather nearby. There's no telling when this could end."

The young man agreed and they got to their feet and parted, Mulder and Alex going east and the group west. At the last moment, the young woman called out, "Agent Mulder!" They all stopped.

"I believe you," She said. "I read about you in the papers years ago. You talked at a government symposium about extraterrestrials." She looked around at the devastation, "I don't think anything human could have done all this."

"Thank you," Mulder said and smiled.

Despite her injuries, she smiled back. "Save us." She said.

"We're going to try," Mulder replied.

They crossed into Rhode Island eighteen days after they left Pennsylvania. It was green, very green, and lush and the apple and pear trees were covered in blossoms. Mulder grew quieter the nearer they came to his home. They camped for the night eight miles away, they could have pressed on, but Alex halted them and Mulder made no demur. Alex had found some cans of stew in a blasted market a few days before, and with some cans of fruit, they could have a meal that approached a normal dinner. They built a fire, no longer afraid of being found by either aliens or humans. The night was mild and Alex set the sleeping bags side to side, they would not need the tent. They ate and then bathed under the moonlight, in a cool stream. Alex took Mulder's hand and led him to the sleeping bags.

They hadn't been very active, sexually, on the journey. The trip was long, hot, and difficult. Alex ached badly, after a day on the bike, his balance precarious with only one arm.

But tonight, with the probable discovery of the magic square, not to mention Mulder seeing his childhood home in shambles, Alex intended to make a few memories. He could feel his time with Mulder running out. He did not consider himself a romantic man or one especially good at love. The time for those things had been spent on murder, mayhem, and fear under Spender's thumb.

Mulder, perhaps sensing the same thing, acquiesced with a small smile, coming to the sleeping bags easily. Making the first move, he kissed Alex, and kissing, they made it to their knees and then lying down.

"I don't want to lose you," Alex said plainly, in a quiet voice.

Mulder kissed his chest, "You won't."

"You don't know that."

Mulder pushed Alex on his back. "I know," he said confidently.

Alex grunted, disbelievingly.

Leaning over him, Mulder smiled and put both hands on either side of Alex's face. "Whatever's ahead, I am not afraid. I couldn't make a difference before, but I think my whole life has been leading to this. I think the magic square is the answer. The old men, and the aliens, created me. Perhaps, all along, it was to stop them."

He kissed Alex again, lingeringly, confidently. "We aren't going to lose," He said and made his way down Alex's chest.

Alex looked up at the sky and the stars; if they held the answer, they were not saying anything. He closed his eyes and let Mulder kiss him, touch him, taste him, and make him his own. He'd never given so much of himself away, not for money or power. He cried out as Mulder fucked him, pleading with deaf gods and monsters. Mulder's sweat dripped on his chest, and Alex thought it was like acid, opening his heart and letting everything inside melt away until all the stones were gone and there was nothing left but love.

"God," Alex moaned and Mulder moaned back.

They slept under the stars, intertwined, as lovers will and dreamed of their love flowering, and living forever.

Power And The Glory
Saxon, Power, and Glory 1983

I'm a soldier of fortune
I'm trained and I'm ready to kill
Put me in battle
I follow the sound of the gun

And give me an order
At many I will fire at will
I got no emotions
I'm living with the thunder and steel

I don't hear lies
All I hear are your battle cries
I'm a soldier of fortune
I'm trained and I'm ready to die
To the power and the glory
Raise your glasses high
To the power and the glory
Be with me tonight

A cold death awaits me tonight
If I stumble or fall
My friends lay around me
Bodies all tattered and torn
But mine is not to reason why
Mine is just to do or die
To the power and the glory
Raise your glasses high
To the power and the glory
Be with me tonight

Can you feel the power
Can you feel the glory
Can you feel the power
Can you feel the glory
Can you feel the power
Is it with you tonight

I'm fighting for freedom
I'm safe, I've got God on my side
With what poisoned rights
Can you justify your battle hymn
The general says we'll win the war
Just sacrifice a thousand more

To the power and the glory
Raise your glasses high
To the power and the glory
Be with me tonight
Tonight, tonight, tonight

To the power and the glory
Raise your glasses high
To the power and the glory
Be with me tonight
Tonight

Alex thought morning came too soon. They rose, touching as they washed and dressed, touching as they walked near each other. Mulder smiled at Alex, calm almost serenely. Ready to go, Alex tried once more to convince Mulder to stay far from the magic square. It didn't work.

Ironically, the highway was clear and they progressed rapidly. Bill Mulder's house was smashed to smithereens. Mulder hardly cared, shrugging he said, "I should have sold it years ago and made some money off of it."

The graveyard lay at the end of Main Street; it was no longer a smooth green expanse of neat rows and markers. It was torn, as if some huge cat had clawed at it, opening graves, and tossing caskets carelessly. The corner where Bill Mulder lay was torn, but his grave was untouched. Mulder went to the caretaker's shed and brought back a shovel.

"It's not down too far," Alex, said quietly, I had to bury it myself and using a shovel is beyond me. I dug with a smaller spade, exactly three feet from the headstone, right in the middle. I covered it with flowers so no one would notice.

Mulder nodded his mouth grim. It didn't take him long to hit the box. He knelt down and pulled it out. It was a plain plastic box, heavy because of the lead box inside. "Not here," Mulder said and stood, holding the box.

They walked to a small stand of undamaged trees. They sat, Mulder took a long drink of water, leaned over and kissed Alex and said, "This is the end of the line."

Alex, his throat dry, touched Mulder's shoulder, silently. They hugged for a long time.

Mulder opened the plastic box, took out the lead one, and flipped the lever to open the box. As the box lid fell open, the sky turned black, the wind blew, and a high-pitched whine made them both cover their ears. The stared at each other and Mulder grinned, "I can hear them," he said. Alex couldn't hear the words, but understood well enough.

Within seconds, they were surrounded. The aliens, not bothering to take human form, blocked the light as they crowded in. Alex felt a pull under his skin as if there was something inside every inch of him that wanted to come out. It hurt and he screamed. He was still screaming when the aliens picked him up, carrying him to a bench, and laying him on it. They all touched him, holding his arm and legs, and covering his stump with their long narrow hands. He passed out.

When he awoke, it was dark and seeing the starry sky, he thought, for a moment, that is was the night before. He swallowed and tasted oil. Panicked, he rolled off the bench. He was alone in the cemetery, soaked, head to toe, in black oil.

He panicked. Alex was not a man to panic, but every nerve, every fiber of his being was outraged, disgusted and in denial. The pain he was experiencing was enormous. Mulder was gone, the oil was back, and his life must be over. He walked over every inch of the cemetery, no Mulder, no sign of Mulder. He fell, exhausted, under the stand of trees. As he closed his eyes, he hoped he would never wake up again.

But, he did wake up. It took a few moments for his eyelids to actually open, because the oil had caked there during the night. He resisted rubbing his eyes; instead, he rubbed his whole face in the grass, trying to loosen some of the muck. He saw the state he was in, the clothes plastered to his frame, black and dense. He wanted to wash it all off, he wanted to run, although there was no place to run.

He was hungry, so ordinary, to be hungry, so normal, so human. He went back to where they had left the bikes and took out some food. He couldn't taste what he ate, the oil overrode that, but after a few minutes he started to feel more alive. He found a fountain that was working, undressed, and scrubbed himself over and over, until the bottom of the fountain has black and oily. He dressed in fresh clothes.

He had no idea what to do next. He did not want to return to the farm alone. There was nothing east or north. Alex slammed his fist into a tree. He wanted Mulder. All those years when he had guarded his heart and been alone, knowing it was better that way, now, at last, to have found love and partnership on the most intimate levels, just to end up alone again.

He went back to the stand of trees; the box was gone. Mulder had been right, the aliens had wanted that magic square, wanted it badly. Alex sat on the grass, he would wait here, he decided. Mulder was clever, resilient, and if anyone could get away from the aliens, he could.

He slept again, tired from extreme emotions and a deep loss.

He left the trees only long enough to find food and water. He did not know how long he would stand vigil here, but it hadn't been long enough yet to feel he had to leave. One night, almost two weeks since Mulder had gone, he noticed his left arm was longer. Not much, maybe two or three inches, but it was longer and the scars at the end were smooth. He couldn't feel the sharp edge of bone there anymore. He began to laugh, and he laughed until he cried and then, he couldn't stop crying. Alex lay in the grass and cried until he was empty, until there were no more tears and he heaved dryly, his chest and throat aching.

He found an abandoned storefront across the street from the cemetery and set up house there. He searched the town, bringing back anything useful to the shop. He had chairs, a table, and a bed. He'd found linens and pots and pans in what remained of a home furnishings boutique. He found a gas BBQ grill with a full tank. He scavenged for food in every house and store for miles and stockpiled enough for months. And, he found a pair of binoculars and watched the stand of trees from everywhere he went.

He never saw another human being; he heard animals at night, raccoons, rats, maybe possums and certainly dogs. He found a gray and white cat, with one black ear and one eye gone, and brought it to the shop. It slept in the sun all day and wandered at night, but it was there every morning. Alex found some small comfort in the cat's routine.

He wasn't sure when he decided to stop waiting for Mulder, three months had gone by in the same tedious day by day activities; eat, watch, scout around, pet the cat, watch. His arm was back, he was exercising it, and some mobility and sensation had returned. It was mostly numb, as he was mostly numb. It gave him some small satisfaction to look normal again, but everything felt at a distance. Early one morning, he faced the fact that he was depressed. After everything, he had never before been depressed, but then, he reasoned, he had never lost someone as important as Mulder before.

A man of action, Alex decided his next action was either going to be suicide or a rash attempt to break into the camp in Pennsylvania and free everyone. It was suicide too, but suicide by heroism seemed to be what Mulder would expect of him.

He packed, tinkered with the bike and worried about the cat. He should have known better than to adopt an animal, he should have known better than to fall in love, too.

He traveled twelve miles the first day, not stopping for food or drink, but going full out, toughening himself up for the job ahead. He couldn't bear to unpack the two man tent, so he dug around in his pack for a blanket. He actually screamed aloud when it moved and scratched him. "Fucking cat!" He yelled, "Fucking cat!"

The cat laid its ears back and hissed before jumping to the ground and rubbing his legs.

He gave the cat some water and part of his dinner, telling it that this was the end of the line and it would have to become a hunter the next day. The cat was impervious, hardly listening as it gave itself a bath and groomed its whiskers.

It refused to go and slept at his head, making him sweat, purring monotonously. In the morning, Alex resolutely packed, making sure the cat had not climbed into his belongings. The cat glared at him, tail swishing in irritation every time Alex zipped or buttoned the packs.

At first, it ran after the bike, but when Alex looked back a second time; it was gone. He told himself it was for the best and kept pedaling.

By lunchtime, he was mocking himself; some tough guy you are, he sneered, worried about a stupid cat. What was going to happen when he was killed anyway, the cat would be alone then.

He made it back to the farm in seventeen days. He missed the damn cat, but he hadn't gone back for it. He needed to be free, free, and alone to commit hari-kari.

The farm still looked peaceful, the animals hadn't wandered far, and bald patches of grass showed where they had eaten. The heat was intense, rising from the ground in waves.

Maybe he should just let nature take its course, this kind of constant heat and no winter would mean the poles would melt, species of plants and animals would die and the earth would soon be covered in water, tidal waves, and storms knocking out whole continents anyway. He wasn't that sure of his science and thought that was too long to wait.

He prepared carefully. He thought he would start everything off with a Molotov Cocktail; he would get under the fence at the compound, light it and toss it. That should make the people panic enough to go through the fence and out. He wasn't sure, but the fence was an important part of whole thing, maybe it was a force field, regardless, once on the other side, he thought the people would wake from whatever was making them silent and passive.

He remembered the strange pain he'd felt inside the fence, like every inch of him was bursting out from beneath his skin. It had to be the remnants of the alien oil. The thought gave him the creeps.

He exercised his left arm and made his plans. He spent a lot of time standing in the yard and looking out at the valley. He could have lived here with Mulder, fixing up the house, perhaps others would have come and lived in the other houses down the way, and they would have had neighbors. It was good land; they could have learned how to make a garden and planted all they needed. It would have been a life worth living.

At last, he was ready. He watched one more sundown come over the valley, ate a huge dinner, and decided he was certain. He set out in the morning, taking the same route that he and Mulder had taken. The August heat was terrible, the trees were limp, and their leaves dull, more yellow than green.

He took the same lookout spot he and Mulder had watched from before. At the same hour, when the nearest group returned from dinner, he cut the fence. Secrecy didn't matter anymore, and a gap in the fence would encourage the people to leave quickly. He lit one of his hand held firebombs and tossed it in. He ran through the fence and tossed another. The claxons went off, deafening him, the people became agitated, and Alex tried to push them through the fence. They would not go, lining up at the fence line and covering their ears, confused, but remaining docile.

The crowd pressed in one him until he was stuck in the midst of a large and growing mass of people, up against the fence.

Alex was stuck and had no idea how to get the people out, or for that matter, get himself out. The sudden silence was as deafening as the noise had been. The crowd dissolved, the fence gone, the buildings disappeared. Alex stood alone in a green valley, empty except for a small, broken down farmhouse. The wind began to blow and as the sun set, a fresh, cool breeze raised the flesh on his arms, and he shivered.

He stood, not knowing what was happening or what to do next. And, after shock upon shock, he heard a sound he thought was gone forever. A plane appeared in the sky, an ordinary jet, on its way from somewhere to somewhere. As the night darkened, and he searched the valley for clues, he saw something in the distance, just over the next rise. He ran toward it and when he got to the summit looked down and saw a town: buildings, streetlights, traffic, people walking, driving, children running, and everything as normal as the world had once been.

Alex shook his head; something must have happened to him, he'd been hit on the head, been drugged, or transported. He felt for his left arm, it was still there.

He turned back towards the valley; in the gloom, it looked so innocent: grass, weeds, and the dilapidated farmhouse. He saw a light in the farmhouse and walked toward it. He stepped onto the first porch step and the door opened.

Mulder was on the porch. Mulder, was smiling, laughing, and reaching out, Mulder holding him, rocking him, and weeping. Alex felt his knees give way and he and Mulder sank to the floor.

"Wha...?" Alex began, but Mulder was kissing him now, wet kisses, greedy kisses, happy kisses. Alex gave in, if he was dead and this was heaven, he was satisfied.

Inside the house, there was an old mattress, where mice had once lived. Alex and Mulder, tripping, pulling, and pushing each other inside, wouldn't have cared if the mice were still there. They landed on the mattress with a hard oof! But, they didn't stop for a minute; clothes came off, half torn, half twisted. Mulder saw Alex's arm and the tears ran down his face as he kissed it, wrist to shoulder and back down again. Alex pulled Mulder to him, and ran his hands, over and over, Mulder's back and butt and sides. Mulder jacked Alex's knees apart and up and pushed inside, knowing as he did he was splitting Alex in two, but the need was too great to wait. Alex cried out and cursed and pulled Mulder in further, bringing him closer, until they were one being, one flesh.

Afterwards, they lay still, breathless, sweat drying on their skin, Goosebumps rising on their flesh. They ignored everything but each other, staring into the other's eyes, happiness to profound to express in words.

They dozed, although Alex's eyes opened every few minutes to reassure himself that Mulder was there.

Before dawn, they woke, naked; they walked in the valley until they found Alex's pack. First, they ate and drank, and then they talked. Mulder explained. "When the box opened I saw them, the aliens and I could see you through them. They solidified quickly and you were gone. I was on their ship looking out over earth and the moon. I could feel they were happy and not a threatening. They assembled the magic square pieces into a huge mural along the ship's interior. There was a physical change to the ship, as if it had finally eaten and was satisfied. I know that sounds crazy, but I don't think their ship was inanimate."

Alex laughed, and Mulder asked, "What?"

"You could tell me anything, Mulder, anything at all and I will believe it." Alex grinned.

Mulder ginned back and suddenly they were two excited boys, talking about the big game they had played and won.

"I could understand them. They showed me their history, millions, billions of years of history. They were explorers, first in their own solar system and after that, moving outward, eventually beyond their galaxy. It was so beautiful and strange. They learned how to morph eons ago and they blended in everywhere they went, learning from whatever beings existed and moving on. Once in a millennium or so, they met in a central location with their other ships. But, after millions of years and tens of thousands of their generations never going home, some of them broke away from the others, wanting a homeland. They couldn't go back; their original planet was long gone."

Mulder kept grinning and Alex could not resist his happiness. Mulder had the magic handshake and the decoder ring this time and Scotty had broken the non-interference prime directive and brought Mulder aboard. So, Alex grinned back and was happy too.

"They came to earth when it was still a primordial soup; they took a liquid form and believing that intelligent life was underground, since there wasn't any on the surface, went inside."

Mulder took a breath, Alex handed him the canteen, and he drank. "There was a major eruption, an earthquake so huge it shifted the earth's plates. They were stuck; the resultant radiation weakened them. The ones left aboard tried to save them. They were pulled into the vortex. Their ship broke into pieces and most of them died. But not all of them. They managed to set up beacons with parts of the ship that had not been destroyed and then they waited."

"Alex, they waited billions of years, through all the earth's developments and extinctions. They remained underground, finding they could survive at the poles. Periodically, they sent out search parties to see what was developing on the surface. They recognized evolution. Sometimes, they tried to hurry things up, giving scientific knowledge to ancient peoples; writing, calendars, monuments to track the stars, like Stonehenge or Machu Picchu. They were noticed and myths began to spring up about them being gods or monsters. And still they waited, knowing eventually these peoples of earth would be curious enough to want to leave the gravity that tied them down and go to the stars."

"It was bad luck, just when humankind was looking outward, that the atomic bomb was let loose. The aliens panicked; this radiation was deadly to them. They hid as deep as they could beneath the ice and missed the first sister ship that, after billions of years, came to find them. However, the old bastards didn't miss them, they caught that ship as it was torn from the skies by the magnetite beneath New Mexico and Arizona. Magnetite so heavily radiated from the bomb tests that it exerted a strong pull and the craft crashed."

Alex felt the hair on his neck stand up and freezing shiver went up his spine. Mulder's story had just become their personal history.

"You know most of the rest." Mulder said. "The newly crashed aliens only wanted to get their brethren back, to do that and not knowing what kind of beings humans were or our history, that made deals with bastards. The men held off, of course, always wanting more. The humans, being who they were, wanted weapons and science that would let them become immortal. The aliens conceded; they could not find the others. In the fifties, the Piper Maru was sent to Korean waters, and the old aliens came aboard. When the ship was rescued, the aliens came with them and made contact with the new arrivals. This was when the bastards realized whom and where the old aliens had been. They had never known, until then. However, when the aliens got together and were ready to leave, they were stuck. The new alien's ship was destroyed and the ancient ship was gone. They could rebuild and leave if they had the information from pieces of either ship. It is sentient and works on a reciprocal exchange with the aliens, like a parasite and its host. Time passed, the humans began experiments with alien DNA and became argumentative and power mad. The secret group broke into factions, one hand not knowing what the other planned. Spender, slime that he was, kept a toe in everyone's projects. Eventually, the aliens became aggressive and wanted something to force the men to give them what they wanted. That's when the exchange of family members happened. Still, the humans delayed, feverishly trying to use the science, use the weapons, and gain power"

Mulder drank some more water; Alex was enthralled.

"What the aliens did not realize was the humans were willing to sell their family members as the cost of doing business. The aliens, being hive-like, couldn't conceive of such a deal, after billions of years, all they wanted was to rejoin with each other. We get to the modern era, the aliens no longer trust the humans, they build ship after ship, but none can leave our stratosphere. All that alien activity people like me believed in, wasn't aliens coming, it was aliens trying to leave. Others, like the Jeremiah Smith's and the Bounty Hunters are off shoots from the billions of years the aliens have been on earth. Some of the aliens went to the surface, god knows how long ago, and took on human characteristics. By now, the old aliens and the new arrivals are more foreign to them than humans are. They work for various factions of the old men's projects. They know however powerful they are, humans could kill them off completely, and they want to survive."

Mulder took Alex's hand, "All this," He says, using his other hand to gesture, "The seeming invasion, was an illusion. The aliens identified those of us who might lead them to the magic square, they transported us to the mothership and on a huge interactive set, they watched us survive. The earth is fine, everything is still there, it's only us that have been in the play."

Alex's breath shuddered, "Now they have the magic square?"

"Yes," Mulder answered, smiling.

"They're going to leave and never come back, the super-soldiers too?"

"Yes," Mulder said again.

"Hot damn!" Alex exclaimed.

"Yeah," Mulder said and they hugged, rocking back and forth, it was over.

When they sobered, Alex said, "You have no proof, Mulder."

Mulder stared into Alex's eyes, "Fuck proof, I know and you know. When we get back, Scully, Skinner and some others will know. That's enough for me. I am free, Alex. You're free, and there's a life to be lived ahead of us."

You say you want a revolution, well, you know, we all want to change the world You tell me that it's evolution, well, you know, we all want to change the world But when you talk about destruction, don't you know that you can count me out (in) Don't you know it's gonna be all right, don't you know it's gonna be all right Don't you know it's gonna be all right, ah You say you got a real solution, well, you know, we'd all love to see the plan
The Beatles - White Album

The excitement lasted well into the night. They ate and drank everything in Alex's pack, made love again and walked in the cool night air.

"Why were you waiting here?" Alex asked.

"They extended the illusion until you came back. I was stuck inside the force field until you broke in and they restored things to normal. I think it was a kind of gift, you know. Once they had the square, they could have dropped reality back on us, or killed us. Strangely, they were fascinated by our journey, although you would think they knew everything about human behavior by now."

"How do you know?"

"They said so,' Mulder said and grinned. " They said we created a sufficiency between us. We put aside our enmity, worked together, and found emotional support from each other on the way. They said this boded well for a future when we do escape our solar system and go into space for ourselves."

"Did they say anything about all the bloodshed, testing, or manipulation they participated in?"

"No, they made no apology for anything. They did what they thought they had to do in order to survive and get back the pieces of the original ship. That it took more time than we can conceive, was not a factor."

Alex said, bitterly, "All's well that ends well, huh?"

Mulder looked up into the starry sky, "Yes," he said softly, "Yes."

Alex looked up too. "What now?"

What now, waited until they woke the next morning, walked over the rise and into the town. They ate, breaking into chuckles of glee over ice water and cream for the coffee. "I have two hundred and fifty silver dollars," Mulder announced when the bill came.

Alex laughed and took out a thin battered wallet. He put a twenty on the table and rose, "come on rich man," he said.

They rented a car, using Alex's credit card, he wouldn't let Mulder see what name was on it and wouldn't let Mulder drive. "I have to keep some secrets," was all he would say.

As they approached the tunnel going east this time, both men felt ill at ease. It had been so real, the danger, stench and horror of the rats. It was clear sailing and they went through at a steady fifty- five miles an hour, trucks behind them and trucks ahead of them. Four hours later, they exited I270 onto the Washington Beltway. "Ah, Alex..." Mulder said uncertainly. "I was hiding out, before it all."

"Yeah," Alex said, taking his eyes off the road to look at Mulder.

"I was in a dump in Fairfax County, supposedly, I was house sitting. Scully stayed in Nebraska with Will and I came back, I told you that. Skinner set me up after the disaster at the White House."

Alex laughed, "You mean when you tried to assassinate the alien replacement president of the United States?"

"Yeah, then," Mulder said.

"You don't want to go back?" Alex asked.

"I don't know. Considering what the last couple of months have been like, I'm sure I would appreciate it more. It does have plumbing that works."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Skinner thinks you're dead and that he killed you. I don't know what the law says about reanimation, but I think you'd still be a wanted man."

Alex frowned. "I'm sure Skinner will be pissed, but I can assure you, there is nothing on record of anything criminal with my name, DNA, or fingerprints on it."

"Good," Mulder said, relaxing. "Take the next exit, Merrifield, my place is about a mile off the exit."

They exited and Mulder directed Alex to drive into a run down area of small saltbox houses, built after WWII. From what Alex could see, it was mostly Hispanic and Salvadoran, if the cantinas on every corner were anything to go by.

He pulled into an overgrown driveway. As Mulder started to get out of the car Alex said, "Do you know what day it is?"

Mulder paused, one foot on the ground, the other still in the car. "No."

"Neither do I," Alex said, "But the daffodils and tulips are still shoots, it looks like mid to late March."

Mulder looked around, "The invasion came on March fourth, and I stayed a couple of weeks to bury bodies. It must have been the end of March when we met on the road."

"Yeah," Alex said and shivered. "None of it happened." He said.

"I told you that," Mulder replied.

"Yes, I know." Alex said with and edge to his voice, "But it 'never' happened."

Mulder tried to understand what Alex was getting at. He looked around. As much as he was used to no one believing him, trying to explain over five months time and the end of an alien invasion, was beyond even his abilities. Today was simply the next day. He'd had no appointments, and had planned to have a lazy day at home and a long phone call with Scully to see how she and Will were doing. He was going to send her a cashier's check he had drawn the day before so she could buy Will whatever he needed. They had not arranged anything formal, but now he was back in DC and only marginally hidden, he sent her money each month. He didn't work for the FBI, of course, but Skinner let him use many of the resources to keep looking for a way to defeat the aliens. He'd tapped into his inheritance when he and Scully were on the run and he continued to use it as he needed money. There was a great deal of it intact, as his power of Attorney, Skinner had sold both of his parents' houses and banked the money for him and there were the bonds and investments from their wills he'd left untouched, as well.

Mulder became impatient, "You're looking for trouble when there isn't any, Alex. The people who were in the know about the aliens experienced what we did."

Alex got out of the car, "Something feels very wrong," was all he had to say as he got the packs out of the trunk.

Inside, the house was dreary, but adequate and nothing had spoiled or gathered dust, because he hadn't really been gone in this reality. The whole time thing was giving him a headache. "The bedroom's that way," he pointed to Alex.

Alex gave him a lascivious grin and Mulder smiled back, he wouldn't have to alone in that bed ever again.

Restless, Alex explored the small house. It was clean enough, if drab and he set himself up in the second bedroom, not to sleep in, but to use an office. He called Maine and spoke to the manager of his apartment complex, generously bribing him to pack up the stuff he asked for and send it FedEx the next morning.

Unabashed, Mulder sat in and listened. "You really are a computer techie aren't you?"

"I have two arms," Alex answered, apropos of nothing.

Mulder felt his headache come back, "Yes, miraculously."

"So I show up at my old place in shirtsleeves and tell everyone I met God on Tuesday and he gave me back my arm?"

Mulder chewed his lip, "You can't go home again," He quoted.

Alex snorted.

"We'll think of something before we see anyone you know. Skinner will believe it and I can't think of anyone else who ever knew. Maybe, Doggett. Scully and Skinner trust him and he 'is' in charge of the X Files, so he will have to accept it too."

"Mulder," Alex said exasperated, "I don't give a fuck who knows or who would be amazed or disbelieving. The project is over, the aliens are gone, but a whole lot of the bastards live on. Do you think they are willing to let bygones be bygones? I stole the magic square and they wanted to keep wheeling and dealing with the aliens forever."

Mulder grinned, "You sound like me," He said, "They'll find some other nefarious use for their knowledge, and use their power and influence to do that."

"Let's hope they don't want the arm or more of your brain to use for alien DNA experiments." Alex said sourly.

"True," Said Mulder and grabbed Alex by the left hand, "Let's put it to good use before anything else can happen to us."

Alex rolled his eyes, but when Mulder wrapped that arm around his waist and kissed him, he gave in and hugged Mulder, fiercely.

They rolled around on the unmade bed in the second bedroom, tossing clothes, shoes, and underwear every which way. Naked, they stared at each other, "We're back in the real world," Alex murmured.

"I guess we should go steady or something," Mulder said, half seriously.

"You weren't queer yesterday Mulder and neither was I," Alex said, completely seriously.

Mulder looked shocked.

Alex started to laugh, burying his head in Mulder's belly.

Mulder said indignantly, "Queers? No way, we're just, I don't know what to call us, but queer is not it."

"No?" Alex said, laughing harder, "Skinner will say faggots and Doggett will call us cocksuckers." After a moment, he added, "Scully will just shoot me."

Mulder pushed Alex off his chest and turned them over until he was on top. "The hell," He said, "And this is funny?"

Alex laughed harder, "Am I going to be your dirty little secret? Do I go to a motel when Scully visits? And the kid, will you wait until he's eighteen until you tell him?"

Mulder scowled, "This is a side of you that's new to me, Alex Krycek."

Alex howled.

"Unrestrained levity is not appreciated." Mulder said, but his voice quavered.

"That a quote from your Oxford education, Jane Austen or Coleridge, perhaps?"

'What do you know of Jane Austen?" Mulder said, in a prissy voice, and began to tickle Alex mercilessly.

Alex wrestled him back, until he was on top once more. "Enough, enough," He panted.

"Never," Said Mulder, equally breathless and kissed Alex.

Things progressed quickly and when Mulder took Alex's prick in his mouth, Alex said, in a singsong voice, "Cocksucker, cocksucker." Until, Mulder added a hint of tooth and Alex shut up.

Mulder continued the seduction, and when he was just about to enter a willing Alex, he said, "I - do - not -care," going in an inch at a time. "What - anyone - thinks or says." He was in all the way, waited a moment for Alex's body to adjust, and said as he began to fuck, "I love this, I love this, I love this."

Alex, totally undone, gasped, "Yes, yes, me too."

Mulder called Skinner. "Hello Skinman," He said, knowing it always irritated Skinner.

Skinner grunted.

"How about getting lunch at Joe's tomorrow?" Mulder asked and added, "On me."

"It's not my birthday," Skinner, replied.

"We have a lot to talk about." Mulder stated.

Skinner grunted again, "Okay, one thirty at Joe's."

"One thirty," Mulder echoed and hung up.

Alex and Mulder went out and bought a huge number of groceries, happy to be able to choose what they wanted. They ate out at the local Italian place, went home, and blew garlic breath all over each other in the double bed in the master bedroom, laughing and glad hard times were over, and everyone was alive.

Deep in the night, Alex rose, and went to sit by the window in the living room. After a while, Mulder sensed his absence and got up too. He stopped by the kitchen for bottles of cold water; bring one for Alex as well as one for him. "What's up?" He asked quietly and handed Alex the bottle.

"Should I stay here, Mulder?" He asked. "What are we doing?"

Mulder rubbed his neck, "You should stay here; I want you to stay here. We still have the remaining bastards to catch and prosecute. I have plenty of money, we can get a better place to live and do what we want."

"I have money too," Alex said. "That isn't what I meant. I was making a life in Maine, it wasn't fancy and it wasn't exciting, but it was sufficient for my needs. You want to jump right back in and be Galahad. You're not in the Bureau anymore, but you still want to fight them."

Mulder sighed, "It's not that I want to fight, Alex, it's that I want to see it through."

"There will always be conspiracies and syndicates of evil, Mulder. You know that."

"Yes, but this one is mine. My whole life, and yours, for that matter, has been under their influence and rule. I want to make sure it's over."

"It's over, Mulder. It is already over. The remaining assholes are criminals, but without power and influence. All the scientists and henchmen will know that without the aliens as backup they cannot be forced to play anymore. I know them and I think they will take the opportunity to get out."

"I hope so and in that case, we can do whatever we want all the sooner."

Alex grimaced, "What about the X Files, Mulder?"

"I'm not in the FBI anymore." Mulder muttered.

"I bet all sorts of upper echelon types have suddenly gone missing from the FBI and every other government agency. Skinner could probably give it back to you."

"I haven't thought about that," Mulder said. "Believe me, no matter how it was handled before, the FBI was happy to see me go. Besides, Scully is gone for good."

Alex yawned. Mulder said, "Can we figure out the rest tomorrow, I'm beat and want to actually sleep in a bed."

"Sure," Alex said and got up. "I was simply wondering. I am not used to taking anyone else into consideration, you know. It's not like I've had time for relationships."

Mulder grinned, "I'll repeat what I said earlier, you want to go steady or something?"

Alex grinned, smacked Mulder on the head as he went by and said, "Or something."

Mulder laughed.

Mulder left Alex making a huge sandwich and puttering around the house, and went to meet Skinner.

Skinner stood as Mulder approached the back booth. They always chose the back booth. Mulder slid in.

Mulder wanted to hug Skinner, or wring his hand and celebrate their survival, but Skinner looked as grim as usual and Mulder refrained.

"What's so important that it couldn't wait until next week as usual?" Skinner asked and signaled to the waitress.

Mulder goggled, "You're kidding, right?"

Skinner frowned. "No," He said shortly.

"You didn't spend the last five months in a post apocalyptic world?"

Skinner frowned more darkly, "What are you up to now, Mulder?"

Mulder shook his head, a huge lump of disappointment and fear forming in his chest. "One second," He said, took out his cell phone, and called Alex.

"Hello?" Alex answered.

"Just wanted to make sure you were there," Mulder said.

"Problems?" Alex asked.

"Looks that way," Mulder answered and hung up.

Mulder ordered a large ice tea and nothing to eat; Skinner ordered the special of the day.

Mulder folded his hands around the glass of tea, "It's like this," He began.

The food came, and Skinner never picked up his fork. The waitress refilled his coffee and Mulder's ice tea and they sat, untouched.

When Mulder finished the tale, Skinner let out a deep breath, "So," he said in a tight voice, "Alex Krycek is alive, got his arm back, and was with you in the alternate reality for five months, sacrificing himself to free the alien's victims and generally act like a hero? That's right?"

Mulder nodded.

Skinner took a sip of his tepid coffee, swallowed it painfully, and put the cup down. "I've seen this sort of thing before, Mulder." He said in a careful voice, feeling his way. "PTSD can do strange things to people. I know someone you can see, he's helped a lot of Vets I know."

Mulder put his head in his hands. "I'm not crazy," He said at length. "Everything I told you happened. I was sure you would have been in on it because you knew about the alien ships and could have been someone who could lead them to the artifact."

Skinner pressed his lips together, tightly. "I believe you think it happened," He said. "I would also consider your companion," He added sourly. "Survivor of our last encounter or not, Alex Krycek wouldn't have dealt fairly with you at any time in any situation. He is a murderer and a liar and probably engineered the whole thing somehow. I really think you should see this doctor."

Mulder felt as if he'd turned to stone. He'd been so sure and now, nothing new at all. Skinner was just as disbelieving as ever and thought he was as crazy, crazier than ever.

"Look, Mulder," Skinner stretched his hand across the table, but stopped short of actually taking Mulder's hand. "You've been going full out for years and years. It's only natural that it would all catch up with you sometime. I'll help you if you'll let me."

Mulder took a breath; it was important that he didn't act up and convince Skinner that he was out of control. "I am not crazy," He said steadily. "I am not suffering from PTSD, although I'm sure I should be by now. You will see; keep an eye on anyone I ever suspected was in on it, McCaughey, Blevins, and the others at the CIA, DIA and the Pentagon. They will be missing and never found. You'll see."

Skinner took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, "Please, Mulder."

"It'll happen all over the world, in every government intelligent agency and scientific institution," Mulder went on relentlessly. "Key figures will be gone as of today."

Skinner shook his head.

Mulder nodded his.

"I'm going home now," Mulder said. "I don't have to run or hide anymore. Alex Krycek is with me, and if you send anyone to arrest him, I will shoot them. Understand me, Skinner?"

"Mulder..." Skinner began.

But, Mulder got up, tossed a twenty on the table and turned toward the door.

Mulder drove home carefully. He'd been so sure. He hit the steering wheel with his fist. He was still joyful, he told himself. The world was safe, Scully, Will and everyone he cared about were safe. He and Alex could start fresh somewhere, do anything they wanted, travel, teach, write or whatever. The aliens were gone, maybe it had been an elaborate charade in which he and Alex had been the only players, but the results were real. He had seen the aliens take the artifact, seen Alex's arm grow back and he'd felt them leave, damn- it.

Mulder pulled up in the driveway, he could see Alex peek through the curtains, alert as usual. He felt tired and defeated again, just as he had felt for years. Then, Alex opened the door and was standing in the light. Mulder perked up, maybe it wasn't all for nothing.

Inside the house, Mulder went to the kitchen; the lunch he'd never eaten had left him hungry. He took out cold cuts and mustard. Alex sitting on the edge of the table handed him the bread, "What happened, Mulder?"

"Skinner did not experience the invasion, he thought I was nuts," Mulder said tonelessly. He made the sandwich, but looked at it as though he never seen one before. "He won't be coming after you and I didn't broach the idea about getting back in the Bureau."

Alex stood, pushed Mulder toward the table, and laid the sandwich on it; he poured Mulder some tea too. "Skinner can fuck himself," Alex said. "It's all over the news and the Internet. They found the president's body in his room this morning; the corpse appeared to be several years old. They don't have an explanation, the same at the Pentagon, dead generals all over the place, old corpses, no explanations. The news is speculating some kind of terrorist plot or plague. The Vice President has called out the National Guard and put the country on alert. The CIA and the FBI have not offered any information to the public. The British Prime Minister didn't come to work today and the Japanese delegation's plane to France suddenly turned back, causing all kinds of furor." Alex paused, "So you see, we didn't dream it. It happened, Mulder."

Mulder grinned, picked up his sandwich and headed for the couch, "Put on the TV, Alex."

They watched for hours, CNN reported similar missing or dead officials from countries all over the planet. No one at the CDC, the World Health Organization, or the Surgeon General's Office had an explanation about the old corpses. They were simply there, the reporters reported, long dead bodies where there had been live people just a few hours before.

At five o'clock, Skinner called Mulder. "I'll be here all night," He said. "Come downtown, Mulder."

Mulder didn't answer at once, he mouthed, "Skinner," to Alex and Alex made a rude gesture. "What do you want me to do?"

"Explain it all to me again," Skinner said wearily.

"Ah," Mulder said and smiled. "Decided I'm not a lunatic?" He heard Skinner sigh. "I'll be there in a couple of hours, Skinner." He said and hung up.

"I wouldn't help him out," Alex said sourly.

Mulder grinned, "I am going to gloat, my friend."

Alex smiled, "Rub it in."

"I will," Mulder said.

Just as he was leaving to go back downtown, the phone rang. "Mulder," He answered.

"What's happening?" Scully said in an agitated voice.

"Hello, Scully."

"I know some of these names from our cases, Mulder, the ones who have disappeared, and what is it about old corpses?"

"Slow down, G-Woman," Mulder said. He heard her sigh. "Have you experienced anything unusual lately?" He asked carefully.

"No," She said, "Will has had a headache for a couple of days. I had him x-rayed, and there's nothing organically wrong. He started to feel better this morning, but I kept him home from pre-school one more day."

"That's probably for the best," Mulder said, "Listen, Scully, I have to go in and see Skinner about things. It's a long, long story, but basically, the aliens have left, they only wanted the return of those ancient pieces of their ship. It seems the master set of directions home was on it. The missing and dead officials were alien replacements who had infiltrated. It's all over, I saw it happen."

"How'd you find the pieces, Mulder," Scully asked in a concerned voice. "They made you so ill last time."

"Krycek knew where they were." Mulder answered.

Scully was silent.

"He's not dead, in fact, he's sitting right here. The aliens restored his arm. We went on a journey together to find the artifact. The aliens aided us and were grateful. I think Will won't be having any more of those headaches, and I won't either."

Scully gasped. "Alex Krycek, Mulder? How can you believe anything to do with him, maybe it's a trap? And why do you think Will's headache had anything to do with aliens?"

"His DNA has alien elements added to it, just like mine was. The presence of alien activity regarding the ancient ship is... was very powerful. But, now they are gone."

"Mulder," Scully said in a long-suffering voice, "You aren't making any sense. You're trying to tell me they just left? What about the invasion plans, all the abductions and tests? Or is it that Krycek comes back from the dead and suddenly everything is okie-dokie?"

Mulder held on to his patience, "The syndicate, Spender, my father, the Brit, all of them had projects. The humans had a hold over the aliens as long as the artifact was not available. The aliens have been searching for it for millennia. They could not leave the earth's stratosphere without it. They built ships, getting ready to leave anytime, but the advent of the A-bomb changed everything and the ships started to crash. That's how the syndicate got a hold of them to start with, the aliens weren't coming; they were trying to leave."

Mulder heard Scully "tsk," through the phone. "Okay, Mulder," she said patiently, if sarcastically, "The conspiracy is over, the bad guys are dead or powerless, the alien replacements have left and all is well. So why is Krycek still there?"

Mulder winced, "He's here because I want him here and he wants to stay. We have a chance to start over. He's paid his dues, Scully. All the wrongs he did were righted because he had kept the artifact safe. You don't have to hide anymore, Skinner has cleared our names, and the syndicate is defunct."

"Sure," Said Scully, not bothering to hide the doubt in her voice. "Krycek probably had them hidden to auction off to the highest bidder. And I am not coming back to the X-files."

"Maybe so, but he never did. On the journey, he saved my life, not once, but several times. I know you have doubts, Scully, but you have to trust me one last time."

Scully sighed. "I need to let this entire tale settle in my head, Mulder. I'll call you again in the next few days."

"Okay, Scully," Mulder said. "Be happy Scully, you and the kid can live normal lifetimes, you don't have to worry any more."

"Really?"

"Really, Scully, it's all true, the aliens are gone."

Scully hung up the phone without saying goodbye, but then, she never did and Mulder did not take offence.

Alex was restless, he didn't want Mulder to go back downtown and meet with Skinner. He could feel the balance between them beginning to erode, after just one day back in the world. Skinner hated him, had killed him once and Alex had no doubt, would do it again without a qualm. And, Alex knew, Mulder loved the X Files. They were his real home and his real relationship, the never ending search for all things weird. Who could be as fascinating as that, offer such challenges or temptations into the new and unexplored. He thought, once Skinner had the current crisis under control, he would offer Mulder the X Files again. Surely, Doggett wouldn't care, he'd never believed from the start.

Alex let none of his worries show, however. He listened to Mulder tell him about his call with Scully, without comment. The least he ever said about Scully, the better.

With a quick hug and kiss, Mulder said, "I'll be home as soon as I can, dear." He winked, scooting out the door before Alex could respond.

This time, meeting with Skinner was considerably different. They met in his office, Mulder having been personally escorted from the front door. Doggett and Reyes were at the conference table, but they both got up and shook his hand, seeming glad to see him back and safe. Anti-terrorist unit chief, Holloway, was there too, with a couple of aides. Nothing much happened in the FBI these days without Homeland Security sticking their noses in it. Two men at the table wore particularly fine suits, were clean-shaven, and had crew cuts. Mulder guessed, before he was introduced, that they were someone from the DOD. The other was from the CIA. Unexpectedly, Scully was there, visual conferencing by computer. Lastly, the assistant head of the FBI sat at the end of the table, opposite of Skinner.

Mulder sat down, folded his hands, and decided to have some fun. It didn't matter anymore that he had no proof, or that they would think he was crazy. The aliens were gone and the world was safe except for its own volatile inhabitants.

He told his story from the beginning, leaving nothing out except his private feelings about Alex. Skinner, Doggett, and Reyes knew a lot, of course. But, for the others, Mulder went back to the start of his quest and his questions into a cover-up over Samantha's abduction. He explained over twenty years of his life succinctly and without drama. The tale sounded all the more harrowing that way, and Mulder knew that. Scully added in explanations whenever she thought Mulder skipped too much of the science, reiterating her early years of doubt and thus, bolstering Mulder's story, by how she, at last understood and believed. Mulder was grateful for her support, so long in coming.

Mulder felt the loss of so many, once again, Mr. X, Deep Throat, his mother and father, Diana, Max, most of all, the Gunmen and always, Samantha.

He did not digress into X Files, even those he speculated 'were' part of the project. His total recall and his relentless pace kept everyone silent and against their will, mesmerized.

When he got to the invasion, and spoke of the devastation and death, his throat tightened and tears came to his eyes. No one blinked, his tale too compelling and detailed to scoff at or deride. Only Skinner's grunt and Scully's sigh interrupted him when he got to the part about finding Alex on the road. He did not pause to comment on them, merely going on with his recital.

When he was done, the guests stretched and began muttering amongst themselves. They did not say he was crazy, although, Mulder was sure they thought it. Instead, they opened their briefcases and began to question Mulder, showing him pictures and files of persons who had gone missing or whose long degraded corpses had been found. Mulder told them what he knew about the faces he recognized.

Hours passed and still Mulder answered questions. Finally, they showed him pictures he had seen before, some of them copies of pictures in X Files or his family's photo albums. Spender, his father, the Brit, Strughold, the fat German, the Alien Bounty Hunter, and Mr. Smith. They had a few pictures of groups of these men and others and Mulder wondered if any of them was Alex's biological father or his stepfather.

Finally, they thanked him, refrained from rolling their eyes or commenting on his alien theories, they were relieved he had helped them.

As Mulder walked back to his car, he saw every office in the building had CNN on their TVs or computer screens and everyone looked hassled. Mulder smiled; after all, it was their turn to deal with the incomprehensible, inexplicable, and fantastic.

With a sigh of relief, Mulder started his car and headed home.

Mulder found Alex awake and waiting for him in the living room. He'd ordered pizza and saved some. Mulder realized he was starving and ate it cold. While he ate, he told Alex all about the meeting. At the end, Alex laughed. "Let them find the perpetrators this time."

For a second, Mulder was confused and then understood, to figure out the solution to the dead bodies and missing people, they would have to find the aliens. Mulder laughed too, the irony striking him at last.

They went to bed and slept. Early the next morning, Mulder woke to find the sheets kicked onto the floor and Alex wrapped around him. It felt good, the early coolness of the morning and Alex's warmth at his back. He spent a few minutes thinking about how they seemed to fit together, with other lovers; he'd worried about crushing them or farting in his sleep or a million other small embarrassments. He stretched his legs and bumped into Alex's knees.

Alex woke, "What time izzit?" He mumbled.

Mulder stretched a little more, bumping his ass into Alex's crotch this time. "Early," He said soothingly, "Too early to get up."

Suddenly he was rolled over, Alex above him, "I'm already 'up'," He said with a feral grin. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Mulder smiled and feigned boredom, "You think of something this time," He said and yawned.

Alex growled, "Don't you know any better than to wake a sleeping tiger?"

Mulder grinned and faked another yawn, "Come on, Tiger." He said negligently and closed his eyes.

Alex bit his shoulder, through the T-shirt and continued biting his way down Mulder's chest, nipping at his nipples and pecks hard enough for Mulder to moan, toss, and turn, every time, brushing his groin and erection against Alex's similar body parts.

Alex had him divested of his shorts and T-shirt within moments, then he off threw his own, and treated Mulder to a full body rub, chest to chest, cock to cock.

Mulder groaned with delight, Alex's body was hot, smooth, and strong. His pelvic bones fit perfectly against his own and the alignment of cocks was exquisite. He could come from just this, he thought, pulling Alex closer, holding him tighter.

Alex bucked against him, "I want to fuck you," he said into Mulder's ear. "Fuck you hard."

"Come on, Tiger," Mulder said again and spread his legs.

Alex wasted no time, murmuring darkly, he called Mulder every dirty, vile name he could think of and when he ran out, said them over again in Russian. Mulder, to his surprise, felt wonderfully helpless and swept along by Alex's pleasure. He tried to think if anyone had ever enjoyed his body so much and couldn't think of a single name. He felt Alex deep inside him and silently apologized to every gay man he'd ever jeered or felt superior to. "Harder, Tiger, harder" He moaned repeatedly. Alex obliged.

Alex came so hard his jaw ached from grinding his teeth. "Fuck, yeah," He said in the aftermath. Mulder laughed, and pushed Alex off him, immediately turning into him and laying his leg across Alex's thighs. Alex was breathing in great gusts, as if he'd run a marathon.

"Who knew?" Mulder said softly, drawing nonsense shaped on Alex's sweaty chest.

Alex chuckled weakly, understanding Mulder at once. Who the hell knew, he thought, how this had come about. It had taken an act of god, or aliens. He put his hand on Mulder's face, cupping his cheek, unaccustomed gentleness overtaking him. He felt sixteen and as old as Methuselah at the same time. He felt wise and simple, he kissed Mulder's forehead, trying to convey his epiphany. Mulder smiled at him dreamily, hope, and love showing clearly in his eyes.

"Now, we know." Alex said in a choked voice.

Mulder kissed him, kissed his cheek, his jaw, his forehead, kissed his lips. "Now, we know." Mulder echoed.

And, it was sufficient.