There was a cacaphony of noise, voices screaming in hard languages, people
banging on things, behaving like madmen. And maybe they were, being locked
in here truly increased the risk for that.
And the odors...the smell of dirt, sweat and other less pleasant body
fluids. First the stench was unbearable, and then you came to smell as bad
yourself, the stench sticking to your skin and clothes, as the dirt did.
Knowing that the chance for a shower was as big as the chance of an ice cube
out there in the frying sand, the future didn't look good. As small wounds
became infected and the stomach turned upside down after yet another
disgusting meal that you had to fight hard for.
It was the law of the jungle in here. There were no gangs, like in western
prisons; everybody guarded their own interests with their life, regardless
of whether it was for a good sleeping space, a rag of clothes or a moldy
piece of bread
He had been tested when he first entered the hellhole. As a foreigner,
unable to speak the language and also having just one arm, he was at first
considered weak prey. Someone you could take the clothes, food and space
from. They soon discovered that the newly arrived prisoner wasn't prey, but
rather a predator. And he was now, most of the time, left alone; avoided by
the weaker and ignored by the equals.
How the hell did he get here? This was crazy, yet another twisted prank in
his otherwise already fucked up life.
Sitting in one of the quieter corners of the big room, feeling lousy, he
still tried to keep a tough exterior. He shivered despite the hot nauseating
air. Dehydration from the illness he had suffered the last few days, made
him light headed.
Unable to recall how long he had been here, how many escape plans he had
attempted and how many fights he had fought, he still tried to keep his head
cool. He intended to survive this. There was in his genes to never ever
fully give up, to grasp at even the smallest possibilities of positive.
He had to admit that it didn't look good this time though. But what the
hell, he hadn't quite thought of a bright future in the silo either.
Suddenly the already intense noise and activity in the room increased
significantly. What was going on? It wasn't time for food and the arrival of
newcomers didn't warrant such attention.
Despite feeling weak, curiosity took over; he had to see what was going on.
People seemed to crowd at the barred side of the room. Pushing himself
through the mass he finally saw the reason of the commotion, and couldn't
quite believe his eyes.
Mulder stood there, looking clean and proper as ever. So beautiful in all
the ugliness, so cool, and nice as a mirage to a thirsty man in the desert.
He had a troubled look on his face, biting his lower lip, looking around the
faces of the crowd on the other side of the bars. Suddenly their eyes met,
their gazes instantly locking to each other. Mulder walked closer to the
bars where he stood.
Mulder couldn't miss that man's eyes. He had such an intense gaze, and
still enigmatic. Even in the surrounding filth, the look was so alive, so
amazingly full of spirit. He had always been hypnotized by those green eyes.
"Krycek", he almost whispered, as if afraid to scare him away shouting out
too loud. Krycek pushed aside a man standing in his way, studying Mulder,
too confused to say anything.
The feeling of water gushing over him was so wonderful that he couldn't help
moaning out loud. He couldn't recall how long it had been since he last
enjoyed such luxury, and he turned his face to the running water. Letting
it rinse away the dirt, the stench, and all of the disgusting things he had
experienced in the prison. When Mulder passed him a bar of soap, he thought
he was in heaven, enjoying the sweet scent and the cleansing lather.
"Who sent you?" Krycek asked, feeling Mulder's stare without opening his
eyes where he stood under the water, rinsing the lather from the hair.
"No one sent me. I found you myself". Krycek rubbed the water from his eyes
and looked in surprise at Mulder.
"Why?"
"I needed to find you", Mulder said cryptically. Krycek contemplated that
for a while, but decided to push it aside for the moment. He was too tired
for any games, and would accept that evasive answer for now. He really
wanted to stay under the water a while longer, but he started to get the
chills again and felt rather weak.
He shivered like a little boy, who had been bathing too long, putting on the
clothes Mulder had brought, enjoying the softness of the fabric against his
sore skin.
Mulder took him out of the terrible prison, and the sun outside hit his eyes
painfully. Seeing his discomfort, Mulder gave him his sunglasses without a
word. Krycek accepted them gratefully, and then they walked to a jeep
waiting on the dry desert road outside.
After sitting in the backseat of the jeep looking out the window at nothing
in particular, Krycek felt so relaxed that he fell asleep.
Mulder looked at the man in the backseat, content to see the relaxed
features of the man. It hadn't been easy tracking him down to Tunisia. Alex
must have pissed someone off really badly to be sent to such a terrible
place. Realizing the obstacles still in front of him when he arrived in
Tunisia, he had been afraid that he wouldn't be able to find Krycek.
Bribing the prisoner guards was quite easy, but finding the right person
wasn't. The conditions in the prison were horrible, and the guards didn't
really know whether any particular person was alive or not. When a prisoner
was incarcerated, his identity was lost. There was no reason for keeping
track of prisoners, since the chances for leaving the place alive were very
small, and a human life wasn't worth much here.
If Krycek was to be released, he had to find the man himself…and looking
into the big room with bars on one side, crawling with screaming people,
Mulder had at first lost some of his hopes. Then he had met the familiar
green eyes.
Releasing the man and taking him to the primitive shower rigged up in the
prison, Mulder had watched the man feeling horrified. He was painfully thin
and sickly pale under the loose fitting clothes and dirt. And his left arm!
There was no arm! The sleeve was clumsily tied up, and the remainder of the
arm shivered slightly when he walked in front of him. The horrors of
Tunguska hit Mulder hard in the face. The cynical words of "beating him with
one hand" that Krycek had said at their last encounter, the one that had
ended so strangely, made things fall to place. Krycek hadn't abandoned him
willingly, in the forests of Tunguska; he had been captured, unable to reach
him.
Anyway, that was the past, this was now, and he had found him. Even if not
he was not in one piece, Alex was now sitting slumped back against the
window in the backseat of the truck. Sleeping soundly even if the bumpy road
made his head hit the glass occasionally. That was what's counted, that he
had found his rat.
It was so quiet and comfortable. No sound from other prisoners, no cold
concrete floors with itching straw. And no bad smells. I must be dreaming
Krycek thought. The distinct humming from a fan was the only thing he could
hear, and he was lying on something soft with a light blanket over him. The
sound of a metal spoon against glass broke the silence, and a spicy smell
reached him, as a familiar monotone voice spoke.
"I know you're awake Krycek, sit up and have something to drink".
Krycek experienced a moment of disorientation, and then everything fell into
place, and he remembered being released by Mulder. But, everything else,
from the moment of stepping into the jeep, was a blur. He opened his eyes,
blinked twice to focus, looked around the room and stopped as his gaze fell
on Mulder. He sat on a straw chair beside the bed and held a tall glass with
steaming amber colored liquid.
"Got your bearings back?" Mulder looked amused at the other mans face.
Krycek blinked again and made a faint grimace hard to interpret.
"How..." Kryceks rusty voice broke and he cleared his throat. Mulder handed
the glass to him.
"Here drink this. It's herb tea that, according to the natives, should be
kind to your stomach". Krycek struggled up into sitting position and reached
for the glass. His hand was shaking so much that Mulder at first kept his
grip at the glass. Smelling the spicy fluid, Krycek carefully sipped some.
It was tepid, sweet, and tasty and made his taste buds jump for joy. He
gulped a quarter of the contents, but then suddenly put the glass down.
Mulder caught the expression of his face and took the glass. A wave of
nausea hit Krycek, during which he swallowed repeatedly, cold sweat pearling
on his brow.
"You have to take it easy I guess", Mulder said. "You're dehydrated and need
to drink, but your stomach has been badly abused".
"Tell me something I don't know!" Krycek spat back with eyes sparkling with
anger, suddenly feeling the urge to give something back of all the horrible
things he'd experienced. The one it hit though was Mulder, and Krycek
instantly regret his irritated response as he saw the other man's
expression. This wasn't Mulder's fault. He was the innocent and exploited in
this bad game, and he had also been the one saving him.
Krycek lowered his eyes, ashamed and sad. He glanced at Mulder from under
his eyelashes and cleared his throat again.
"I'm sorry, forgive my temper, I have no reason to take anything out on
you…I'm not quite myself I guess". They looked at each other again. Hazel
meeting green, and to Krycek's surprise, he could see forgiveness and
something remotely like trust and…love in the other man's eyes.
It isn't possible Krycek thought…then again; everything could be possible in
his twisted world, couldn't it? Could it really be true that he meant
something to Mulder, something not including beatings, hate and revenge?
"It's okay. If I'd been through what you have, I'd probably bite the first
hand stretching out at me". To Krycek's relief the pained expression had
vanished from Mulder's face, and he looked himself again, almost smug.
"You must have pissed someone off really bad", Mulder said.
"It's an acquired skill of mine" Krycek said cynically, but with a smile.
"How long have I been passed out?"
"About a day or so, you were in a pretty bad shape. I had a doctor look at
you, he wanted to take you to the hospital, but considering the standards
here, I thought that you'd be better off where you were". Mulder passed him
the glass again and Krycek sipped the fluid more carefully.
"Thanks, I hate hospitals you know".
"And I kind of guessed that" Mulder smiled. "Nevertheless, you have to
submit yourself to antibiotics, plenty of fluids and rest".
The singing shouts of a prayer from one of the plentiful call-out towers
could be heard. Krycek grimaced.
"I can do that, but I'd give a fortune to leave this horrible country at
once".
"I know your first impression of the country isn't the best, but I'm afraid
you're in no condition to leave yet either".
"I'm rather sure I could manage to move my ass to a plane".
"Sure you could, but that wouldn't do you any good. I'm sorry but I won't
allow that, you have to stay put".
Krycek took a breath to argue, but then thought better of it and satisfied
himself with a deep sigh, telling more than any words. Mulder patted his
right leg cheering up, and Krycek flinched at the somehow electric touch.
Studying the color rising in the other man's pale cheeks, Mulder smiled.
"You'll be okay. We'll be out of here before you know it. On the other
hand, you might learn to enjoy the other side of this country".
"I doubt that, but anything's better than the hellhole I just came from".
Even if this country was hot, dirty and at some points chaotic, the market
place was an extraordinary experience. So many new impressions, different
merchandise and spicy exotic smells together with a very lively atmosphere,
made it something very special.
Mulder walked the dry street back to the hotel, carrying bread, fresh
fruits, tea, bottled water and marmalade. There was a small restaurant at
the hotel, but Krycek wasn't strong enough to leave the room.
So, why was he here on the other side of the world, saving Krycek's ass?
Mulder didn't have a straight answer to that. Since their last encounter at
his apartment, he hadn't been able to stop thinking of the man. Krycek's
peck on his cheek had woken certain feelings slumbering deep in his
subconscious mind. That, together with his words, had made Mulder spend this
long investigation finding and rescuing him.
Closer to the room he had rented, a sudden concern of not finding the man
inside, struck Mulder. He hurried and unlocked the door.
The bed was empty. Mulder almost dropped the stuff he was carrying to the
floor, but then he heard sounds from the bathroom. Relieved Mulder put the
groceries on the table and went over to the bathroom door and knocked. There
was no answer.
"Hey, are you okay in there?" Mulder waited a few seconds then pushed the
door open. The room was moist and dim from the shower, and Krycek sat on the
floor, dressed only in boxers, with his head on his knees.
"What's the matter?" Mulder asked, kneeling down to the man. Krycek looked
up, eyes red as if he had been crying.
"I took a shower, then I got sick—throwing my guts up...now I just feel
exhausted".
Mulder looked tenderly at the man. He looked like a boy with his pale face
and wet tousled hair. Another look at the broad shoulders and long muscular
legs told him otherwise though. The stomach was hard and well trained, and
Mulder couldn't help following the soft hair that ran from the navel and
down under the elastic of the boxers. The crotch bulged and Mulder forced
himself to look away, feeling the blood rush to his own groin. Fortunately,
Krycek was too occupied with his own misery to notice Mulders indiscreet
examinations. Mulder swallowed loudly and tried to think of an ice bucket, a
cold shower, whatever chill he could visualize.
"You shouldn't have strained yourself, you're not strong enough for any
demanding exercises yet you know". Krycek didn't answer that; he just looked
at Mulder and then struggled to rise. Mulder reached to help him, but Krycek
twitched at his touch.
"I'll manage", he mumbled and walked out the bathroom on wobbly legs,
sinking tiredly down at the bed. Mulder looked after the man, feeling sad
that he hadn't been allowed to help him. On the other hand, why should he?
Nevertheless he wanted to take care of Krycek, to kiss his pained face, his
battered body...his body...
Mulder shook his head, what was the matter with him? He walked out of the
bathroom and to the groceries he'd left on the table.
"I bought some food, thought you might try some", he said.
Krycek shook his head. "No, I can't eat yet...sorry". Did he really say
sorry? Mulder looked at him, and then walked over with the bottled water.
"Okay, but you have to drink". Krycek took the bottle and carefully drank
the water.
This was torture, Mulder thought, studying the movements of Krycek's throat
as he swallowed. He watched a trickle of water run down Krycek's chin, down
that long neck to rest in the hollow of his throat.
The flat stomach, the long legs, the...Mulder closed his eyes. Damned it! He
opened his eyes again, and they fell on Alex's left arm. A sudden spark of
anger hit him. Who were those bastards who had desecrated this beautiful
body? Then he felt sad. The arm was brutally carved off right above the
non-existent elbow. The scar tissue was prominently colored, and it would
take a long time for it to fade, Mulder thought.
Then he realized that Krycek was watching him, he had an embarrassed
expression on his face. Krycek turned a little, as if to hide his left side,
put the bottle on the nightstand and settled down under the light blankets.
Mulder felt almost relieved that he wasn't able to see Krycek's bare body
any longer taking the temptation away. Nevertheless he was very much aware
of what was under the thin soft fabric, and could follow the outline of
every contour of it.
He swallowed hard and went back to the food he'd bought, thinking that he
would have a snack. Then he thought that a shower would be a better idea, a
cold one.
Mulder looked drowsily round the room; something had woken him, but he
wasn't sure what it was. The room was quiet and still, and the only light
was from the full moon coming through the windows.
Then he heard it, a soft whimpering from the other bed. He sat up and walked
over the cold marble floor to the man lying in it. Krycek appeared to be
asleep, but twisted restlessly and mumbled something in his sleep.
He stood there watching the man for a while, not sure if he should wake him,
or just leave him. Not really aware of what he did, he laid down beside
Krycek stroked his shoulder and mumbled something soothing. The response was
immediate; Krycek relaxed markedly, moved closer to him in sleep, sighed and
snuggled content in his arms.
Mulder was amazed by his own feelings...he felt so comfortable with this. It
was as if in a dream, it felt so unreal, but yet so good. A tingling
sensation of happiness and other feelings he wasn't able to interpret filled
him, and he embraced the man hard, and after a while, fell asleep again.
The sensation of comfort was complete. Krycek felt better than he had been
for weeks, and he enjoyed the feeling lying still with closed eyes. It felt
so good and...a slight movement to his left made him tense.
He suddenly realized that he was lying close to another person. He could
feel the heaviness of an arm over his hip and the warmth of a body next to
him. Carefully turning, his eyes fell on Mulder, peacefully sleeping.
Confused Krycek studied the sleeping man. What had happened last night? What
was Mulder doing in his bed? He couldn't quite remember anything from
yesterday other than Mulder stepping into the shower. Then he must have
fallen asleep, or...?
Curiously looking at Mulder, he realized that he had never had the chance to
look at him this close, this thoroughly and this long before. He found that
he thought Mulder was beautiful. Even the nose, that he knew Mulder himself
considered too big, was so very special...beautiful, because it belonged to
Mulder. He could see the fine laugh lines around Mulder's eyes and mouth,
and wanted so desperately to touch the face. Not wanting to wake the man,
Krycek pleased himself with just looking at him, feeling his closeness.
Hearing the steady breathing and smelling the clean Mulder scent.
After a while Krycek could hear the slight difference in breathing that
indicated that Mulder was waking up. Amazed, Krycek saw the beautiful smile
on Mulder's lush lips, before he opened his eyes. The hazel eyes met his
with surprise, and Krycek smiled back.
"Do you always start the day with a smile?" Krycek asked. Mulder recovered
his smile again.
"Only when I've been dreaming something pleasant" They looked intensely at
each other.
"I'd give a fortune to know what that was," Krycek said, persistently
looking at Mulder's chest.
"How much did you say you were you willing to give?" Mulder said, looking
almost seductive. Krycek wasn't slow picking up the expression, willing to
play the game, and got something wicked in his own eyes.
"So what do you want?"
"Do I have to say it out loud?" Krycek studied Mulder for a while, and then
carefully touched Mulder's face. His hand trembled as he caressed the other
man's face, and his eyes never left Mulder's for a second while he did that.
As he reached the lips, Mulder opened his mouth, turned his face and sucked
the fingers, closing his eyes.
Krycek tensed for a split second, but then relaxed, moving closer to Mulder.
This was so unbelievable crazy...but what the fuck!
He leaned forward till their lips met. It was a sensational feeling, almost
electric at the first touch, sending a tingling sensation down Krycek's
spine. They kissed deeper and deeper, rubbing their bodies together.
Krycek felt the tingling reach his groin and his cock rose. He reached his
hand down to Mulder's crotch, and found the cock hard and erect. Grabbing it
gently and stroking faster and faster he made Mulder moan, then scream, his
pelvis thrusting spasmodically.
God! It felt so amazingly good Krycek was able to think, before Mulder
clutched him tightly, kissing him so hard that he had to gasp.
Mulder thought he would explode. Fireworks flashed in front of his eyes as
the orgasm rushed through his body, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to
hold himself much longer.
He grabbed for Krycek, braced him, kissed him, and almost cried with joy. He
heard Krycek's hard breathing. Oh how he wanted to please this man, but God,
he thought he would explode, implode. Krycek was giving him an orgasm like
he hadn't experienced in years, if ever.
"Oh!...Oh God!...Alex!...Ooh!"
"Let it go Mulder, come for me...come for me now!" Krycek's voice was thick
with lust, and Mulder thrust a few more times and then came, spraying like a
geyser.
Panting they lay in each other's arms. It was Mulder who first moved,
brushing Krycek's sweat damp hair from his brow, kissing him. Mulder wanted
to do the same thing for Krycek. To send him out in the seventh heaven,
flying high, just as he had done for Mulder. Krycek looked at him, not
saying a word, but Mulder could see that he actually was as content as he
was.
He looked tired though, and Mulder let it go with just a few kisses. They
would have plenty of time wouldn't they? They would do this over and over
again, and thinking about it made Mulder almost high with happiness. Nothing
could cloud his happy mood right now he wouldn't allow it.
"What have we done?" Krycek suddenly wondered out aloud.
"Are you having second thoughts?"
"No, I don't regret a thing" Krycek said seriously.
"Good, me neither" Mulder said matter of factly, stretching his body,
looking fully content "...and I hope you won't in the future either. I'd
like to think this will become a habit".
"So you mean that we should just not give a fuck about the past, what has
happened? Could you do that, or will you in the future continue stabbing me
with the past when it's convenient?"
"Did you say fuck?"
"Shit Mulder! I'm serious damn it!"
"Such language" Mulder said amused.
"You'd prefer it in Russian?"
"Yeah, why not?" Krycek opened his mouth, but didn't say anything.
"No, sorry. I'll stop teasing you" Mulder said, suddenly serious. "The only
thing I know, is that this felt more right than anything I've done for a
long time. I'm not quite sure why I looked you up in the first place, but I
guess I've always wanted something more between us"
Krycek was quiet still, looking amazed at Mulder, who rubbed his chin with
his hand and continued.
"About the past. We have both done stupid things, and we have both been
under the influence of very powerful, convincing men...and I hope we will be
able to start anew. I want to get to know you, not just physically, which I
also intend, but I want to know you, Alex Krycek"
"Do you really mean that?"
"Yes…the rational part of me has a hard time believing it...but yes I really
mean that" They studied each other a while in silence, and then they both
smiled.
"You know something?" Krycek said. Mulder looked questioningly at him.
"No? What?" He sort of braced himself for the answer, didn't want Krycek to
say something that would hurt him. God, he looked so sly.
"...I'm really hungry. Do you have some of the food from yesterday left, or
did you munch everything?" Mulder blew out the breath he had held, laughing
in relief.
"You crook! I thought...I don't know what I thought..." Krycek looked back
at him, and laughed too.
"But I meant it...I'm starving" He smiled, eyes shining bright. Mulder
smiled and took a grip on Krycek's chin, stroking his lips with his thumb.
"Then we're most definitely going to eat, I have most of it left. You stay
put, and I'll prepare a meal for us to eat in bed".
"Breakfast in bed...I must really be dreaming"
"Our lives are going to be a dream from now on"
"I'd love that" Krycek smiled. He yawned and curled down under the blankets
again while Mulder got up.
Breaking the bread, slicing and peeling the fresh fruits, Mulder smiled, he
was so insanely happy. Looking towards the bed, Krycek lay there quietly
studying him, green eyes shining. Mulder took the immersion heater from the
pot and poured the hot water through the tea strainer. Loading it all
together with the marmalade and brown sugar on a tray.
>This is something I could get used to< Mulder thought, carrying the stuff
to the bed. Looking at the beautiful young man, with eyes full of lust and
love, he carefully placed the tray on the bed, reaching for the waiting
kiss.
The End
Rescue
by Scout
It was dirty and dark in the room. The only light that entered, for the poor
incarcerated bastards, was a thin beam of the intense sun through the small
barred windows high up near the ceiling. As the sun filtered in, the sand
did also. In the air, clouds of fine dust whirled, the dirt sticking to
sweaty skin. The days were hot, hot as hell, and the nights freezing cold.
First the coolness lay like balm on heated skin, and then gooseflesh came,
and shivers.
