"Damn."
The softly spoken word somehow reached into his numbed mind and
forced his body to turn round.
The owner of the voice, dressed all in black, was standing just
inside the doorway, hands jammed into the pockets of his
leather jacket. He caught Mulder's hazel eyes with his own and
said sympathetically, "I'm sorry this happened."
"Krycek! How did you get in here?"
Krycek smiled slightly and the laughter lines crinkled at the
corners of his eyes for a moment. "I'm better dressed than you
are," he commented, studiously avoiding the issue of how he'd
got in, and took another look around. "It sure looks a mess."
"Why do you care?"
Krycek shrugged, then sighed looking slightly uncomfortable. "I
told you, a long time ago, that I believed." He put up his
right hand to stop Mulder's expected comment. "I know you
probably thought I was lying... but I wasn't."
"Do you know who did this?"
"Not really, but the guy you call Cancerman would be a good
guess." At Mulder's surprised expressed he went on, "I know
he's not dead. He went to Canada to recuperate." He looked
around again, then said, "Come on, let's get out of here."
When Mulder didn't move, Krycek reached out, took him by the
arm and dragged him away.
The act of moving seemed to rob Mulder of the power of thought
and it wasn't until he was seated in a small apartment, with a
cup of hot, sweetened, chocolate in his hands, from which he
had just taken a sip, that his thought process kicked into gear
again. Looking at the dark, steaming, liquid, he asked, "What's
this?"
Krycek smiled wryly, "Whether you realize it or not Mulder, you
are in shock, that should help counteract it."
Mulder took another sip and shuddered. "It's sweet," he
protested.
"It's meant to be. Now drink!"
Suddenly Mulder started shivering and Krycek immediately
stripped off his jacket and flung it round his former partner's
shoulders, before going to the closet and rummaging around on
the top shelf for a spare blanket. Shaking it out as he re-
crossed the room, he tucked it firmly around the still shaking
form.
Krycek took away the empty cup and refilled it with the same
sweet mixture. After giving it back to Mulder he turned to go
back to the kitchen, relieved that the shock seemed to be
wearing off.
Mulder, wanting to continue their conversation, reached out and
grabbed hold the nearest hand and was horrified to feel cold
plastic instead of warm skin under his fingers.
"God Alex. What happened?"
Krycek smiled wryly, "Tunguska... When you did your stupid
'great escape stunt'. Whatever possessed you to do that
Mulder?"
Mulder sucked in his bottom lip, feeling suddenly embarrassed.
The younger man hunkered down in front of him and cocked an
eyebrow.
The Agent took refuge in a swig of chocolate, then mumbled,
"The guy in the next cell could speak English, he told me,
after you'd left with the guards, that you were not my friend;
and when you didn't come back and they experimented on me... I
was unconscious when they threw me back in the cell and he was
talking to me as I woke up. There was a crack in the wall, I
could just see a pair of eyes looking through it at me. He told
me he'd been a geologist, and had been amongst those who had
found the black rocks, and that was why he was a prisoner
there. He also told me about the gulag and the experiments on
the inmates, until they died, and, when you still didn't come
back, I guess, I started to get angry. Then when I saw you
laughing with the Doctor, I guess I lost my temper..."
Krycek made a small disgusted sound, "And of course the word of
a man you'd never met, let alone couldn't see, was more
acceptable than mine?" he asked bitterly.
Mulder had the grace to look a little guilty, but not liking
the feeling, defended himself by reiterating, "I didn't know
what to believe, but you didn't come back, and you hugged the
guy who experimented on me."
"Mulder, Mulder," Krycek shook his head in wonder, "Didn't it
occur to you that he was more than likely put there to find out
why you had come? I'm glad you're a Special Agent and not a
secret agent. As for being 'nice' to the camp commander, how
else was I supposed to get you out of there? I could have left
you any time before that... I didn't have to follow you under
the wire." He shook his head, "If only you'd waited you would
have been on a plane back to Washington that same night."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Krycek grimaced. "I wasn't in any position to make demands. My
parents were defectors and although my Russian may sound okay
to you, I'm told I speak with an 'English' accent, so I can't
exactly pass as a native."
"I'm sorry Alex..."
"Are you? Are you really sorry, or are you just saying that,
glad it didn't happen to you?" the remembrance of pain making
him lash out.
Mulder suddenly found the dregs of chocolate in the bottom of
his cup absolutely fascinating, and he was silent for quite a
while as an image of a one-armed boy flashed across his mind.
Just as Krycek thought he wasn't going to get an answer, Mulder
spoke in a low monotone.
"After the brakes failed on the truck and it crashed, I hid.
The truck driver found me and took me to his home. He was going
to cut off my arm, just as he had done to his son. I managed to
persuade him that it wasn't necessary, and that all I needed
was help to get back to where I had entered Russia. I thought
the guards would find you and take you back, if you hadn't
managed to find your own way... It never occurred to me that
you might... That you'd be in danger..."
Krycek sighed, "I didn't want to go back, they were going to
keep me while sending you back to Washington, I guess because
my parents had taken me with them when they defected. So, when
the truck crashed, I ran to keep out of the guards' way, and
then I started looking for you. I ran into a group of one-armed
men, they fed me and let me sleep by their fire, but during the
night, while I slept, they attacked me and cut off my arm. I
can remember screaming... The guards came, and they killed my
attackers and took me back to the gulag with them."
"Oh god..." Mulder paled, suddenly feeling sick, "I'm so
sorry... so sorry..."
Alex, noting the pallor, felt his anger drain away. He leaned
forward, placed a finger on Mulder's lips and shook his head
gently, "It's all water under the bridge now Mulder, for both
of us," he paused and grinned slightly, "Talking of Water, you
could do with a shower."
Mulder threw off the blanket and Krycek's jacket, sniffed at
himself, and wrinkled his nose. "Yeah," he agreed tiredly.
Krycek pulled him to his feet and pushed him into the bathroom
where he started to help his ex-partner out of his clothes.
"Hey, I can do that," Mulder protested.
"Do it then," Alex told him, and went into the kitchen to warm
some soup.
Fifteen minutes later he returned to find Mulder sitting on the
toilet seat wrapped in the bath towel almost asleep. He
manhandled the sleepy Agent into the bedroom and having got him
into bed, propped him up against his body and fed him the soup.
Not until the bowl was empty would Krycek let him lie down, and
sleep.
Krycek stood watching him for a while, then went to clear up
the kitchen and bathroom. Picking up Mulder's clothes he placed
the contents of the pockets and the cell phone on a table in
the living room, then took the clothes into the kitchen and put
them in the washer/dryer on a short cycle to get the smell out
of them. Then he sat down to watch the TV news for a while. The
fire in the basement of the Hoover building rated a small item,
mentioned almost as an afterthought.
Going back to the bedroom again, he checked on his guest, then
reached up under his sweater to release the straps of his
prosthetic. Stripped himself of his clothes he padded into the
bathroom. While he was in the shower, slowly soaping his body,
he couldn't help wondering whether he had done the right thing
bringing Mulder here. After he'd heard about the fire he had
felt he had to see the extent of the damage for himself. He'd
been somewhat surprised to see Scully leave the building on her
own, then thought that perhaps Mulder had already left. When
he'd seen the devastated man just standing, motionless, in the
middle of the charred office he hadn't been able to walk away.
The man who'd sent him to speak to Mulder about the resistance
fighter was insistent that the Agent was a crucial factor in
the forthcoming fight, but he had to admit to himself that his
main reason for looking after him was that he was in love with
him. He'd felt the attraction was soon as he'd seen the lanky
form hunched over the wiretap equipment. The next three months
had been both heaven and hell; he'd lain awake at night in
their adjoining motel rooms, fantasising about his partner's
hands and mouth roaming over his body. During the days he'd
suffered the purgatory of having to work alongside him and not
being able to touch, to tell him his inner thoughts, and most
of all not to be able to tell him why he was there.
He sighed, all the trouble they had gone to, getting him in
place then the CSM had squandered the opportunity. He was
convinced the Smoker had his own agenda, which had nothing to
do with what the Consortium wanted at all. In fact, he man had
as good as said so to the Englishman, when the latter had
chided the Smoker for not having completed the task he'd been
set. He still would rather have put a bullet through him, but
his companion had vetoed the idea. He smiled grimly, at least
he'd worked off some of his aggression buy passing very close
to him as he'd driven away. He'd seen the man's shoulders
hunch, expecting to be hit, and it had temporarily alleviated
his urge to kill the bastard.
Mulder was still asleep when he returned to the bedroom.
Judging that he would stay that way for some time to come,
Krycek got a robe out of the closet and put it where Mulder
couldn't miss seeing it if he awoke during the night. Then he
found a spare pillow and a sheet and made himself a bed on the
couch.
The next morning, Alex woke early and went to check on his
guest. He grinned to himself as he watched the other man sleep,
he had quite expected to wake up during the night with the
Agent looming over him, demanding answers from him at gunpoint.
He shook his head at his grim thoughts, and kept one eye on
Mulder as he quietly got dressed. He then retrieved Mulder's
clothes and folded them neatly, leaving them on a chair by the
window. Checking he had his wallet, he put on his jacket and
went out to get some groceries.
On his return, he opened the door to his apartment cautiously,
not wanting to be on the receiving end of one of Mulder's
violent outbursts just yet. The apartment was quiet, and on
looking in the bedroom, he was surprised to find that Mulder
was still asleep. In fact it looked as if he had hardly moved
in his sleep at all.
He unpacked his purchases in the kitchen, then decided to start
cooking a meal for two, hoping that maybe they would be able to
have a meaningful conversation, instead of resorting to the
usual round of accusations which then escalated into violence.
Mulder woke with the scent of cooking assailing his nostrils.
He looked around the strange bedroom and for a moment wondered
where he was. Then memory returned. Krycek had brought him
here. Had brought him here, made him wash, fed him and put him
to bed. The question was.... Why?
His stomach rumbled and he decided that he'd go see if the
smell was an indication that he was soon to be offered
something to eat again. He pulled on the towelling robe, padded
out of the bedroom and wandered into the kitchen to time to see
Krycek add some diced bacon to the large frying pan on the hob
in front of him.
Seeing Mulder enter the room, Krycek flashed him a smile, then
said, "I was just about to come and see if you were feeling
hungry. Are you?"
Mulder nodded, "That smells good."
"It's about ready to eat. So take a seat and I'll put some on a
plate for you."
Mulder retreated to the table and took a seat where he could
watch what Alex was doing.
Krycek noted that he wasn't going to present his back to him,
and smiled to himself. Acting completely unconcerned, he took
two large plates from the oven where he had been keeping them
warm, and arranged a helping of scrambled eggs, diced bacon,
sausages and beans on each plate. He then carried them, one at
a time, to the table.
Sitting down opposite the Agent, he said, "Bon Appetit. There's
plenty more so just go help yourself." Then, seeming to ignore
his guest, he picked up his fork and started to eat.
Although he was now feeling very hungry and the small of food
was making his mouth water, Mulder waited until Krycek started
eating before taking his first mouthful.
They ate in silence. Alex was wary of saying anything that
might antagonise his former partner, and Mulder was too busy
trying to figure out why Krycek was being so solicitous.
Eventually, Mulder couldn't stand not knowing any longer. He
put his fork down with a thump and looked squarely at the
younger man.
Alex jumped slightly at the sudden movement and raised his eyes
to meet Mulder's.
"Why did you bring me here?"
"You needed help, a... friend..."
Mulder frowned, "How can you call yourself my friend, you
betrayed me, you..."
A look of pain haunted Krycek's eyes for a moment then before
Mulder could work himself up to the usual tirade of accusations
he cut across the Agent's words.
"I'm not going to offer excuses, or explanations, for my past
actions at this time." He sighed, "I know you probably won't
believe me, but I'll say it anyway. I am not, and never have
been, your enemy. But for now, please accept that my only
motive for bringing you here is that I want to help you."
"Why should I believe you?"
"Why shouldn't you? You've always been so good at using your
instincts, at discovering the truth. So trust your instincts
Mulder."
Mulder shook his head and dropped his gaze back to the plate of
food in front of him. After a couple of minutes he absently
picked up the fork and started eating again.
Alex watched him intently until he started eating again, then
concentrated on finishing his own meal. When he couldn't eat
any more, Krycek filled two mugs with coffee. Passing one to
Mulder, he sent the Agent out to sit on the couch while he
cleaned up the kitchen.
Mulder had got into his own clothes, and was sprawled on the
couch flipping through the TV channels, when Krycek rejoined
him.
Alex crossed the room to an armchair and, after staring at the
changing patterns on the TV for a while, he picked up a book
and started to read.
Mulder had watched Krycek's movements and after the other had
started reading, he openly studied the other man, trying to
fathom what his feelings were towards him.
Feeling Mulder's eyes on him, Krycek looked up and cocked an
eyebrow, "What?" he queried.
"I have lost my way, I have lost the files and I have lost my
beliefs and I was wondering why you believe."
Krycek put his book down and ran his hand over his short hair.
"Mulder you never cease to amaze me. Why are there always
extremes with you? Everything always has to be either black or
white, true or false. I've got news for you, real life isn't
like that, everything has shades of colour. As for why I
believe, well I could easily reconstruct two of your files."
Mulder raised his eyebrows.
Krycek gave a derisive snort. "Surely you haven't forgotten
that Oilalien and that damned silo already?"
"Was that what...?"
"Made me believe? No. My belief started a couple of years
before that. Well, I'd always thought that we were arrogant to
believe we were the only sentient beings in the universe, but
my beliefs were confirmed when I found myself in hospital after
being interrupted during sex with an alien."
Mulder frowned.
"The Kindred," Alex prompted.
"But... that was someone called... Um... Michael..."
Krycek grinned. "Strange how things work out. The night before
the incident, I'd been to the birthday party of a mutual
friend, where Michael and I had worn almost identical jackets,
and we managed to pick up each other's when the time came to go
home. So, of course, I had his wallet and he had mine. I was
attending Quantico; he was studying at Georgetown, so we
arranged to meet at the club to make the exchange. I was just
talking to a friend, apologising for seeming to ignore her, and
telling her that I was there, when this strange woman
interrupted my phone call. She touched my hand and suddenly I
had no will of my own. She was straddling my lap in the front
seat of my car when the cop banged on the window, saving my
life I guess. She assaulted the cop, turned into a man and
fled, leaving me feeling pretty sick. As I believe I said at
the time: 'The club scene used to be so simple'."
To put it mildly, Mulder felt stunned and looked it.
Alex's grin widened to a smile at the other's expression. "By
the time we met again, well, I'd got a different hairstyle and
was wearing a suit and tie instead of a hospital gown, standing
up instead of lying down, it was no wonder you didn't recognize
me. Naturally, one of the first files I looked at once we'd got
back from New York, was the one on the Kindred. I needed to
know the rest of the story.... Well, you understand.
His expression sobered and he swallowed hard before continuing
his narrative. "The next time.... Well... I guess that if you'd
come into the bathroom in Hong Kong we might not be having this
conversation now. I got cleaned up like you told me, and went
to take a pee. A woman came up beside me and I couldn't believe
my eyes, suddenly she reached over and slammed me up against
the wall. My face was bruised and sore for days afterwards."
He gaze shifted to the floor. "It was like being aenesthetised,
I could feel it coursing through my body, taking control as it
went, until... Then I was crouched on top of a UFO puking my
guts out. Black oil running out of my eyes... how long I was
crouched there I don't know. When I regained the use of my body
I tried to get out, but the door had been locked. I tried
calling for help, but nobody came. After a while the lights
went out. Then I could only mark the passage of time by
illuminating my watch. The Alien kept me alive, sometimes I'd
wake up under bright lights but unable to move and there were
instruments hovering over me, other times I'd be in the dark by
the door again. When the consortium's people came to move the
ship I managed to get to the surface and that's where those
militia guys kind of captured me. I wanted out of there and
they could see I was hiding from the MIB's, so they decided I
might be useful to them, at least that's the impression I got."
He looked up to meet Mulder's eyes again. "Having been
'possessed' by that alien is the reason why I agreed to carry a
message to you a couple of month's ago. If we don't resist,
something like that's going to happen to us all...." He
suddenly got to his feet and disappeared into the bathroom,
leaving Mulder staring after him.
When he returned a few minutes later, Krycek looked a little
pale and he didn't immediately settle back in his chair,
instead he took their mugs to the kitchen and filled them with
fresh coffee.
Mulder nodded his thanks as the new drink was put on the table
beside him.
"Do you need to call anyone," Krycek asked, gesturing towards
Mulder's cell phone lying on the table beside the coffee mug.
Mulder thought for a moment, although he wanted to question the
other man more about the alien, he recognized that as far as
Krycek was concerned, the subject was closed.
"Yeah, I guess I'd better call Scully and tell her that I'm
okay and for her not to worry. Otherwise she'll have Skinner
put an APB out for me. Aren't you afraid that I'll take you
in?"
Alex cocked an eyebrow at him, then shook his head. "One, that
would be an abuse of hospitality and; two, what could you
prove? I left my job without giving the correct length of
notice? Hmmm?"
"You beat up Skinner and took the DAT." Mulder replied, picking
up the phone and dialling Scully's number.
"A tape, I might remind you, that you should not have had in
the first place. You couldn't risk that becoming public
knowledge," Krycek retorted.
Mulder held up his hand for silence, then said into the
microphone, "Scully, it's me. Look, I met an old—um—
acquaintance last night, so I stayed the night at his place."
He listened for a few minutes, then said, "Okay. I'll phone if
I need anything, and I'll leave my cell turned on in case you
need to get in touch with me... Bye." He looked back at Krycek.
"What about the man you killed in the truck?"
"Did I?" Krycek countered. "The receipts I sent you are enough
to catalogue me as an informer. I could say that I shot him to
prevent his escape, which, off the record, is the truth as he
was about to shoot me. Alternatively I could state that the
shot came through the open widow on the passenger side of the
vehicle. Either of these actions prevented a terrorist from
setting off a 2000 kilo bomb outside a federal building, which
would have killed hundreds of people.
"You didn't take me in and charge me with anything. How do you
explain that? The terrorists saw you talking to me, I've heard
they definitely think I was a mole, an undercover cop.
"You'd also have to explain why you took me to Dulles, how you
came into possession of a diplomatic pouch, why I spent the
night on Skinner's balcony, then there's why you forced me to
go to Russia with you." He paused to let his words sink in,
then said, "As long as no 'evidence' has been manufactured in
my absence, I am not aware that I am wanted in connection with
any crime." He looked Mulder directly in the eyes, and said in
a convincing tone, "And no I did not kill your Father."
Mulder stuck out his lower lip and looked a bit sulky while he
turned Krycek's words over in his mind. With those beautiful
green eyes looking into his own, he felt that finally he had
been told the truth about his father. Yet, there were still a
number of outstanding questions to which he desperately wanted
answers.
Alex watched him for a few minutes then had to turn his eyes
away, finding that pouty look on Mulder's face almost
irresistible. He desperately wanted to ravish that lower lip
and tell his ex-partner all the secrets of the world. He sighed
inwardly, it was too soon to give up those secrets, too soon
for Mulder to know any more of the colonization and the
resistance plans. Soon though, if Mulder would acknowledge that
they shared common goals, he would be able to give himself the
pleasure of telling all.
But, the time wasn't yet, so he had to find some way to
distract Mulder without it looking a deliberate ploy. He sighed
audibly, which brought Mulder's attention.
"What?" the Agent enquired.
"I was just wondering if I have to move now that you know where
I live."
Mulder smiled wryly. "You've given me a lot to think about
Alex, some opinions to re-evaluate, but I'm sure of one thing;
you have nothing to fear from my knowing your address. I'll
probably think of a thousand and one questions I want to ask,
but I promise I won't turn up on your doorstep demanding
answers." He paused, then deadpanned, "I'll phone first."
Alex's eyes danced, then unable to contain his mirth he threw
back his head and laughed.
Mulder found himself grinning, unaccountably pleased that he'd
been able to make the other man laugh.
Alex let his head fall back onto the cushioned rest behind him
as his mirth subsided. Then, turning his head slightly sideways
he watched Mulder from under his long eyelashes.
"What now Mulder? Are you going to stay for dinner, or should I
run you home?"
To give himself time to formulate a reply, Mulder looked at the
clock. "It's a bit early to start thinking about dinner isn't
it?
Krycek grinned. "Well, I suppose it would be if I was going to
order in, but I usually cook my own meals, so if I'm having
company I need to start making some preparations now."
"You can cook?"
"Yeah, I can cook."
Mulder opened his mouth to reply, then jumped as his cell phone
rang. Snatching it up, he said his name then just listened,
finishing the one-sided call with "Yes, sir, I'll be there."
He looked across at his host and said, "Sorry, no dinner. That
was Skinner, he wants to see me in his office in two hours. Can
you call a cab?"
Krycek grimaced at Skinner's name, then said, "I'll run you
home, it's not far and my car's just outside."
Mulder nodded, Krycek shrugged into his jacket, picked up his
keys, and they left the apartment together.
Mulder found himself once again admiring the ass of Alex
Krycek, just as he had done when following him up the stairs
during the hunt for Augustus Cole. He had nearly made a move on
him while they had been working together. Curious about his new
partner, he had tailed the young man to a couple of bars and
having seen whose companionship he had chosen, he'd been almost
sure that his advances would not have been rejected. He sighed.
Would things have turned out differently if he had?
During the short drive Mulder covertly studied his ex-partner.
The missing arm apart, time had treated him well. The naive
good-looking puppy had turned into a well-built, handsome, man.
Now that they seemed to be on the way to becoming friends
again, perhaps he would get another chance. Only time would
tell.
The End
Belief Renewed
by Aqualegia
Her overtures of sympathy having been rejected, Scully had gone
home, leaving Mulder alone in the disaster area that had once
been their office.
