When I'll Close My Eyes

The door opened and the man in filthy battledress was pushed in so violently that he landed on all fours. He rose to his feet immediately and rushed towards the door, but it was already closed. Blind with anger, he raised his fists to hit the unknown metal but froze almost immediately, opening his hands and letting his palms slide against the door. Slowly, he leant against the icy surface and rested his forehead upon it. His shoulders fell.

For the first time in history Alex Krycek surrendered.

A few weeks ago, he would have shot on sight anyone who suggested this. But the short space of time had brought to light an unexpected truth.

Unexpected, unbearable, definitive truth. A sinister laughter shook the tall silhouette.

Oh yes, definitive. Absolute. And quite repulsive.

Everything he had believed to be a war between species for the control of Planet Earth... Everything everybody had believed, including the Rebellion, the Syndicate and the Consortium - the Grays themselves - had proved to be nothing but a smoke screen.

And behind the screen *they* were waiting. A species so alien to every other forms of life that perhaps species itself wasn't even the correct term. He had been close enough to some of *them* - if there was any individuality to be found among them at all, it was probably way down at the cellular level. Alex corrected himself. Not an organism either - they were probably not organic. Yes, he had been close to whatever they were, and yet he was unable to describe what he had seen, or heard, or felt...

... but for a sentiment of repulsion so deep that the mere idea of it brought a mouthful of acid to his throat and made him choke.

Shivering against the metal that had grown colder against his forehead, which was now covered in a sweat of terror, he abandoned himself to full despair. The war was over; he knew it. Perhaps it wasn't a war. Had these ... things... such a concept? They had just appeared to *take* the Earth, as they had done with other planets, other systems, other galaxies maybe, to fulfill an agenda of their own - an agenda nobody could even begin to understand. One thing was for sure: when they succeeded, the blue jewel floating in the depths of the starry night would be uninhabitable for any of the races that had begun the battle for it. The dazzling, breathtaking beauty of it would be nothing more than a fading souvenir.

A souvenir? In whose memory?

Alex felt tears gathering in his eyes. He left them spill freely onto his cheeks. Who cared?

Rubbing his eyes with a crooked finger, he turned slowly around to peer at the cell. Probably his grave, but here or elsewhere...

The room was square and white. A neon-like light left no details hidden. In fact there were *no* details to hide. The room was bare and empty.

Or was it ?! There was a white shape in a white corner. A human shape, hunched. And the white outfit the man wore was stained with dry blood.

As desperate as he felt, Alex walked to his companion in misfortune. A remnant of human solidarity made him crouch beside the injured man. Carefully he reached a hand to touch the other's shoulder. He was ready for any reaction; so many people had just gone insane when they learnt of the real situation.

With a moan of pain, the man turned his head to face him and gasped. Alex jerked violently backward.

"Krycek?!"

"Mulder? What the hell do you..." Alex stopped and taking the Fed's appearance in, he asked in a softer voice, "Are you badly injured? Did they torture you?"

"Torture? No...." Mulder thought for a while. "Why would they?"

His former partner nodded. Right, they didn't care in the least for humans. Even the Grays' experimentations were totally alien to their system of thought.

Mulder tried to speak, but a painful cough prevented him doing so. He took a few sharp breaths, then, "I was injured in Skopje."

"Battlefield?"

"Yes." A few seconds later he added, "I'm going to die."

"We're all going to die," Alex said with some exasperation.

"No, I mean... I think... I have just a few hours left, I believe."

The quiet claim shocked Alex. "Come on, you're going to survive a little longer. Don't you want to see the end of the movie?"

Mulder stared at him silently.

Alex read the answer in the grey-green eyes from which the old flame was gone.

"You're that injured? Let me see," he said in a lower voice. Mulder grunted faintly and let the younger man unfold his crossed arms. On his chest and greater part of his belly a kind of purple moss spread. Alex hissed softly and closed his eyes briefly, swallowing his saliva.

He had seen this before. Nobody could say if it was a virus, a toxine, or what. People just discovered a patch of this somewhere on their skin, and it covered them little by little. It wasn't painful. It even didn't itch. It was just... growing. Victims became more and more sleepy, and after a brief time of light delirium they merely passed away, like a blown-out flame.

The stretch of purple stain on Mulder's flesh revealed by the torn overall left no doubt - the agent's self-diagnosis was right. With a deep sigh Alex sat down beside his nemesis and started to question him.

"Do you know why they brought us here? How did you come?"

"I was in Skopje with a few guys from the Bureau. We had joined with survivors of the Kafor who had fled from Kosovo to Macedonia, and a battalion of Rebels. We fought the Grays togther. We almost had overcome them, when the *others* arrived. I had been injured a little earlier. Skinner was killed at the same time." He stopped to cough, his features contorting in pain.

"Nobody could take care of your injuries there?"

"Yes, a guy from the Red Crescent tended the flesh wounds, but I have a broken leg," he showed Alex. "It's just the fibula, but it's an open wound. The doc did what he could, but without essential medical supplies, he was powerless. I also have several broken ribs; that's the most painful part." He made a face.

"How did you get here?" Alex repeated.

"When *they* arrived everything went to hell. The Grays were suddenly on ourside. For whatever reason, they now thought we were the good guys, and that we could be useful to them."

His whistling breathing forced him to halt. Alex waited patiently for what came next. "A physicist who had been here for a long time, working with the Rebellion, tried to understand the nature of our new adversary. This guy was a specialist of quantum theory, a Nobel prize winner, no less - but he remained in ignorance, as the Gray scientists had been for centuries. They were aware of the threat, and it appears that's why they came to Earth; they thought we might be the solution. They were wrong, obviously."

Mulder rested for a short time, and then resumed his explanations.

"Three days after the clouds arrived..." He stared at Alex who nodded his understanding, "there was a big explosion - in fact," he frowned in reminiscence, "I don't know if it was an explosion. I just remember a blinding light. I lost consciousness. When I woke up I was here."

Alex made a quick calculation. "You've been here for ten days at least, then?"

Mulder looked at him with distraught eyes. "I don't know. I haven't a clue. The light never goes off. I see nobody. I doze now and then..."

"They don't feed you? They don't bring any water, or something?"

The Fed shrugged. "No. Or maybe I don't remember?" He looked thoughtful. "You know, I sleep a lot." He indicated his chest. "The moss appeared a few days after I'd been here, I think - since that I haven't been hungry or thirsty." He frowned. "Maybe they're feeding me whilst I'm asleep; or maybe there's something in the air?"

His speculative old self was back, but it lasted for no more than half a minute. Soon his air of dizziness was back.

Alex remained silent, thinking furiously but reaching no conclusion.

"Do you have any idea of where we are? I mean, where on Earth?"

"On Earth? I don't know. We could be anywhere in the universe. Or somewhere else."

After a brief pause, Mulder's forehead frowned. "And you? How did you come here?"

"I was in the Meteors with a few renegades from the Russian Consortium and a pack of Rebels. Grays had already met with our ranks and told us of the threat to come. They had enough proofs to convince us, even me," Alex smirked. "We heard of the clouds gathering everywhere, and they told us that resisting was hopeless."

"So you surrendered. I didn't think I'd ever see the day." Mulder's monotone was surprisingly sad.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mulder, but I didn't surrender. We fought for three days; we were entranched in a monastery. My companions fell one after the other." Alex's features darkened at the memory.

"A small pack of us were all that was left; Brickmann was severely injured by a kind of liquid they were sending in dark balls - when I say dark, it looked like they were absorbing the light... Gillen and Truong were killed right after, and I was left alone with Father Kostakis and Raynes."

Alex fell silent for a moment, reflecting once again on that time. "Then *they* entered the monastery."

Mulder stared at him, a sparkle of interest in his tired eyes. "You actually saw them???"

"Saw them? I don't know."

"How do you mean; you don't know?"

"I mean, we felt them - a presence, it was dreadful, horrible, the most repulsive thing I ever felt. I'd never imagine such a sensation could exist... Father Kostakis was crossing himself frantically and reciting an exorcism... Yes, I remember the very moment, the image is engraved in my mind, I see it all the time when I think of their arrival..."

Alex remained silent for a moment. Anguish and anger fought on his face, twisting his fine lips and creasing the bridge of his nose.

"I think Father Kostakis believed it was the Devil himself coming to Earth.Maybe... Maybe he was right... Maybe they are what traditions call 'Evil' everywhere in universe?"

Mulder looked more and more interested. Fighting to remain awake, he asked, "What happened then?"

Alex stared at him. Biting his lower lips he answered, "I don't know if Father Kostakis' exorcism pissed them off, but they produced a big, crimson flame... It surrounded him and when it vanished he wasn't anywhere to be seen. Nothing was left. Not even ashes. Raynes and I tried all the weapons we had at our disposal, but it was useless as you can guess. I still wonder why they left us the ability to fight this way. Then they came closer, so close, oh my God!"

To Mulder's surprise, Alex hid his face in his hands, and his shoulders trembled violently. When he raised his head again, his eyes were filled with tears, and he repressed a hiccup. "I was unable to move ; they were all around me, and I didn't know what they wanted; or what they were going to do with me and..."

He swallowed and forced himself to calm down. "After that, everything seems like a dream, or a nightmare. Everything was dark red like their *cloud*. Maybe I was inside it?" He shook his head. "Then I was in front of a building that looked like a jail; they were still around me, touching me in some way I could't understand but just made me shriek! I think I fainted... And they probably dragged me here; I woke up in front of a door; it opened, and I was pushed inside."

"And here you were," he concluded.

"Mulder? Mulder???" He shook the American's shoulder gently, but the man was asleep.

Mulder woke up in a fog. He stretched slowly, knowing that his pain would be back soon. When he felt a presence at his side he looked around curiously. For what seemed a long time he had remained there, alone in this anonymous whiteness with nothing left to divert him from his distress.

He stared at Krycek's form, sleeping on the ground. His eyebrows raised in wonder, then suddenly he remembered his former partner's arrival. Torturing his dull brain he dragged recent events back into his memory. Well, he thought they must be recent - although there were no clues to support his hypothesis.

He looked down at himself and gauged the extent of the purple stain covering his flesh. It had grown a little since the last time he'd checked; it almost reached his groin. A question of hours, then. Two, three?

He turned to his unconscious cellmate and shook him gently. "Alex? Alex, it's me, Mulder."

Alex woke up and blinked in the white light before focusing on the other man's face. "Mulder?"

"Yes, Krycek, it's me. Remember? You were brought here a little while ago." He shut up for a few seconds. "In fact I don't know how long you have been here. I'm losing count of time. I haven't really an idea..." He frowned as if the effort to think was too much for him.

"Yes, I remember, Mulder. How's your... huh, the stain?"

"Growing. I'm almost done," the Fed said, quietly.

Alex felt deeply disturbed by his companion's peaceful acceptance. He had almost forgotten his own apathy earlier. He just couldn't accept a Mulder who refused to fight... The man had already been dead, for God sake! Injured, abducted, tortured, what hadn't he suffered? But he knew in his heart that Mulder was right and couldn't be fooled, even if his mental capacities were slowly fading. He shivered at the idea. A vegetable Mulder wasn't in the order of things. But what was today?

He became aware of the intensity of the look the older man held on him.

"Yeah, Mulder?"

"Alex, I have something to tell you."

The Russian was slightly startled. Mulder hadn't used his first name since their first and unhappy collaboration. It was usually 'Krycek' - on good days - or 's.o.b' the rest of time - or worse...

"Yes, Mulder?"

"I'm going to die, and I don't know for how much time I'll still be conscious." He gestured Alex to silence, preventing the young man's protest. "Forget it, Alex, I haven't much time, and you know it."

Krycek nodded. It looked like Mulder was going to dictate his will or something of the kind. Unfortunately, it was too late to call a notary. Anyway there would be no remote heirs left to claim his legacy, and no greedy state to fight with them over it.

"When you came to work with me the first time, I didn't give you much of a welcome."

"Hey, I was coming in from nowhere to step on your toes!"

"No, that wasn't the reason, but I chose to keep you at bay. Then you betrayed me, and I knew I had been right to protect myself."

Alex frowned. "To protect yourself?"

Mulder ignored the interruption. "For years I thought you were my enemy. Hush," he stopped the young man's protest one more time.

"Now I know that you were trapped, at first, by the Syndicate; then you entered the Rebellion, when I couldn't even imagine such a thing existed, and that you were meant to cover me."

Alex nodded.

"You never fought back when I hit you - and God knows how many times I made it hard for you! I couldn't help hoping there was something there. Later I became aware of the true meaning of your behaviour. I'm sorry I hurt you so often..."

Alex wiped away the Fed's regrets with an impatient hand.

"But of course I learnt of this too late. Too late to come to you and work on your side."

Krycek remarked, "It wouldn't have changed anything; we know that for sure now, and you had every reasons to despise me."

"But I didn't despise you, Alex. I never did."

"No? It was a good impersonation, then," Alex tried to smile. "You know, I never... Mulder?"

The dying man was slipping away. Alex hesitated, then he shook him, anxiously.

Mulder surfaced again. He focused on the young man's face, and with a determined voice he asked, "Alex, you are straight, aren't you?"

Completely baffled by the question, the Russian stammered, "Who,me? Straight? Of course. I mean, yes, I am. Why?"

"Not even bissexual?"

Krycek stared at Mulder, wondering if the delirium phase had begun, but the older man's gaze was clear. "Huh, not even a little bit. I'm just, huh, heterosexual."

"That's what I thought. I had hoped, for a while... I mean, sometimes, you looked so... close, almost inviting."

Krycek stared at Mulder with a complete lack of understanding.

"I guess that at the beginning it was a part you had to play, to convince me you were a green agent, eager to please me in order to win my confidence." Mulder sighed.

"Later I found you so fucking hot... But you were a perp, I couldn't allow myself to indulge... I suppose I took any opportunity to fight with you, just to be close to you, to feel your body against mine..."

Filled with confusion, Alex ventured, "What are you trying to tell me? That you were attracted to me?" He tried to laugh but couldn't manage it. He felt embarrassed and a little moved too.

"Attracted? At the beginning, yes, maybe. But what I mean is that I loved you. For all these years I've been in love with you."

Krycek remained mute. He wasn't sure he could trust his own ears.

"And I still love you. Yes, I never stopped loving you since I met you. Not for one second. Even when I thought you had betrayed me. When I learnt you had killed my father. I know, I know, you didn't. But at the time I thought so."

"Then you kept coming and leaving, offering your help and betraying me, or so I believed - I didn't know of your real agenda, what a pitiful investigator I made!" He was shaken by a silent laughter that turned into a painful cough. Instinctively Alex held the older man to help him with the fit that was choking him.

When Mulder got his breath back, he smiled tenderly at Alex, who let him go uneasily.

"Let me look at you, Alex."

Krycek felt disconcerted. He didn't know how to react to the sudden display of sentiments from his once-nemesis, but he couldn't let the dying man remain distraught either. "Yes? Here I am," he said tentatively.

Mulder raised a trembling hand to touch the Russian's cheek and cup his face. Krycek forced himself to immobility. "Come on, Alex, when you kissed me, you didn't look so shy."

"When I kissed you? Oh, yes, in your apartment... Well, you seemed lost, and I really wanted to convince you of the purity of my intentions, if I can put it so... I thought that nothing but physical contact would reach you right then. It was spontaneous... Later, I was afraid you could think of it as a kind of Judas' kiss."

"Oh no, I never did. Instead I hoped that it meant that... huh, you know?"

"That I was attracted to you?"

"Yes."

"Hey, I'm sorry if I gave you false hope... I really didn't intend to. I had no idea that you were, huh..."

"Gay? But I am not. Or I don't think so. Maybe I am, after all?" Mulder mused as if to himself. "Not that I was ever happy in my choice of women... But as soon as we met, I could think of nobody else. I felt a little guilty at first, but as my sexual life was close to nothing... Well, it didn't hurt anybody, did it? Besides me, of course."

Krycek whispered, "I'm sorry. I really didn't intend to, huh, seduce you."

"You mean, it wasn't in your agenda?" Mulder muffled the younger man's reaction. "No, I don't think it was. Nobody could know of this side of my personality. *I* didn't know myself."

He fell back into a brown study. He hadn't let go of Krycek's cheek and was absently rubbing it. The Russian didn't dare to stop him. The man was dying, and to him he was a kind of brother in arms, even if they had never effectively fought side by side, apart from a couple of very short episodes.

"Each time I saw you, I couldn't but marvel at your beauty. Yes, you're beautiful... You have the most incredible eyes a man could dream of... This colour of them, the warm green with a corona of gold around the iris... And that long, thick fringe of eyelashes! How many women envy you for them? Yet you sure dont look like a sissy! You look sensible and virile at the same time. A fucking walking miracle."

The Fed kept looking intently on Alex's face.

"You have such a cute nose, too... It suits you so well! And I love the way you have of creasing the bridge of it - I don't know anyone else that does it. You don't really frown... And your mouth, such a delicate drawing... I could dream of your lips for hours. And I love your hair too, it looks like silk, I'm sure it feels the same. I loved it when you had that long lock falling on your forehead, always fantasized about brushing it... But you're fine too with short hair. What, did you never notice I watched you so closely?"

Wordless, Krycek shook his head.

"When you were asleep in the cell - the other one, in Tunguska - I couldn't let myself go to sleep. I was so tired, Jesus! But I knew it was unlikely that I'd have many other opportunities to look at you so closely. I watched you for hours, in that dim light... Your face was peaceful, you looked so young... And your damned lashes, resting like silk threads on your high cheek-bones..." A soft caress accompanied the words, raising goose-bump on the younger man's skin.

"Each time we met," Mulder continued, "the sight of you made me catch my breath. Each details of your silhouette was inscribed here," he patted his own chest. "I could have picked you out in any crowd at first sight, the way you walked... The way you stood, so straight..." He smiled at the double-entendre. "I got a leather-fetish as soon as I saw you clad in your black uniform... The smell of leather became linked to you in an indelible manner. That's when I began to wear leather more and more often. Another secret link to you."

Mulder's fingers reached the soft temple.

"Years after years, I saw your features maturing, silver threads appearing in your dark hair; and you were even more attractive. More independant, more feral, more lethal. With a touch of melancholy that was new to you. And always so elegant..."

The Federal Agent's fingers left Alex's face to catch his right hand. "And I was fascinated by the way you moved your hands. You're incredibly elegant, do you know that? Not affected but kind of... noble. Easy. I couldn't take my eyes off your long fingers... When I learnt of your accident - I mean, what they did to you in Tunguska - I fell into such despair... I didn't know when you came to my apartment, the night you kissed me," he explained. "I'm so sorry about the stupid remark I made then. Will you ever forgive me? Alex?"

Krycek shook himself as if waking from a dream. "Huh, yes, of course. You couldn't know. I... frankly, Mulder, I don't know what to say. All this is a little... unexpected."

"I guess so."

Mulder remained silent for a good while, and Alex wondered if he hadn't lost consciousness. But the agent's voice rose again.

"At least I'm going to die close to the person I love. Thinking of so many people who have to wait for a certain death alone, or worse... I'm a very fortunate man although I'm sorry for you. I wish I didn't have to impose this on you."

"I've seen a lot, you know. I mean..."

"Yes, I know what you mean. Christ, I feel so tired."

"Do you want to rest a little? You've talked a lot, you must be exhausted."

"Yes, you're right. I'd like to... I mean, if you could hold me... I know this means nothing to you. But for me it would be..." Mulder closed his eyes without waiting for an answer.

Krycek hesitated for a split second but chided himself. He had found it natural to hold Brickmann when he was shrieking in pain, or young Gillen, who'd looked so surprised as death fell upon him. They were his brothers in arms, right - but hadn't Mulder been the first of all? What if the man bore a torch for him? He was dying, and in a somewhat twisted manner, they had been so close to each other forever...

Krycek took Mulder in his arms, holding the suffering body against his own chest, the chestnut head resting in the hollow of his shoulder. The Fed sighed with contentment and confidently went to sleep.

Alex dozed for a indeterminate time and finally woke up as Mulder moved suddenly.

"Are you all right?" He was immediately sorry for his stupid question. Of course he was not, Mulder couldn't possibly feel alright!

"Not too bad. The pain is less. I think this moss is acting as a painkiller in some way..." He closed his eyes, reopened them and stared closely at Alex's face.

"I'm so happy."

Krycek glanced at him questioningly.

"When I think... So many people... I mean, not that many people, but all the same... They heard of you, saw your photos, watched you moving on surveillance tapes, listened to your recorded voice. And they never could meet you in the flesh... Never come close to you, touch you..." He shuddered. "I don't know how they could stand it. To know of somebody so beautiful, so attractive, so... everything, and to know at the same time they'll never be able to ..."

The Fed brushed Alex's chest lightly, with reverence. "I think I would have died to know of you and not to be able to... to meet you."

Krycek laughed softly, "Come on, Mulder. There's a lot of people who know me and aren't, huh, in love with me."

Mulder shook his head. "Beats me." Then, "Tell me something..."

"Yeah? What?"

"Anything. I just want to listen to your voice. Did I say how it always turned me on? It is so fucking hot! Each time I listened to you, I had to really concentrate to hear the words - your voice kept me entranced. Silk, velvet, smoke, whisky, gravel, more leather... How can somebody have such a voice?"

"Huh, I've never really put the question to myself."

"At night, when I couldn't sleep, I just fancied you were here, close to me, holding me, whispering things in my ear... Biting on the lobe... Licking my neck... Sometimes I didn't have to jerk off, just listening to your voice made me come... Other times I watched some tapes I had swiped from the Bureau... But not that often, it was too real, it made my heart ache."

Mulder's voice grew weaker and he fell into a doze once more. Krycek found himself torn between compassion and embarrasment. To hold a suffering or dying friend was one thing, to listen to Mulder expressing his passion and his desire was another story. Desire? No, it was something else, something more and in a way, something pure. The man was beyond all this now. Alex rested his chin thoughtfully on the sleeping man's head and accepted the ache that was slowly taking up residence in his chest.

He wondered if he had ever loved somebody this way. Not as a teenager, it didn't count, it was merely hormones talking... But as a grown-up, had he ever missed a woman that much? To the point of feeling his heart fall to pieces at the idea of never seeing her again? He sighed. Not really. Quick encounters, yes, but he couldn't afford anything more; in his line of work it was far too dangerous. He couldn't forget the brief moment when he had trusted Marita, and the price he had had to pay...

Then, what had he missed out on? He wanted to feel the same thing that Mulder had felt for years. It wouldn't change anything but he thought that somehow he owed this to his former partner.

A memory surged at once in his confused mind. One month ago, when his team had settled in the monastery... On the first evening, after they had installed their camp and eaten their rations, one of the guy had started to sing in the warm Greek night. Soon he started on a shanty Alex knew well.

He had been in the Navy before entering the FBI, and the sea had always been a passion to him, as far as he could remember. At first he was pleased with the old song, but after a few verses the rhythm of the waves underlying the music brought ripples of nostalgia to his soul.

He had a premonition of himself never seeing the ocean again, and at the mere idea of being forever deprived of the huge, slightly curved horizon, the whisper of the backwash, the salty wind, the powerful waves crashing in bursts of snowy spume... he felt his heart mangled by a giant and pitiless hand. He had to clench his teeth hard not to cry like an abandoned kid.

Yes, he knew this feeling.

He held Mulder a little closer, and a sudden shiver ran along his spine. He put his fingers on the older man's neck, searching for the pulse, but he already knew he would find none. His once-partner had died as he slept.

He felt absurdly grateful for whathever power had kept the older man from the delirium phase. The brilliant mind he had so often admired had remained untouched till the end.

Slowly he disentangled himself from Mulder's embrace and laid him down, arranging the torn pieces of overall over the martyred body. He didn't have to close the gentle grey-green eyes. After a short hesitation, he leant over the peaceful face and lightly kissed the pale but still swollen lips.

"Sleep well, lisichka. And forgive me. For everything."

I was wondering what the future had put aside for me - not that I had any hope. It's over for all of us. But I was thinking of the details. Were they going to leave Mulder's body here? To feed me? Was there anybody here besides me?

But the answer came soon.

On what I estimated to be the day after Mulder's death, I found a small patch of purple moss in the hollow of my elbow. The right one, bad luck.

If I judge by the cases of which I've heard, it should be one week, maybe less. Curiously the moss somehow prevents the corpses from rotting too quickly. So I think I'm going to sleep near Mulder.

I'm not into necrophilia, and I'm still straight - for what good it can do to me... But Mulder is the closest thing to a human being here. And I don't feel like dying alone. And I believe that in some way, it would have made him happy to know that I'd be with him in the end.

I just hope they're going to leave us alone now.