Discretion is the better part of valor. Mulder wanted out of Russia
as quickly as possible.
He had been beaten, whipped (well, there had been a certain kinky
charm about that scene, in retrospect), fed cockroach soup,
inoculated with God knows what, and held immobile while Oiliens
crawled into his nose and out of his mouth. Mulder had filled his
quota for adventure and was ready for a vacation, preferably
someplace that was politically stable and lacking in intrigue.
Mulder wondered where the hell Krycek had gone. The trucker and his
wife said they hadn't seen another man in the woods. Mulder shrugged
it off. Krycek may have returned to the camp where Krycek seemed to
be well connected, or he might have gone to ground. Mulder didn't
care anymore. He just wanted out of this country and to be home. He
took his leave of the couple eagerly. The trucker had wanted to cut
off Mulder's left arm for Mulder's own protection. The trucker's
wife had stopped him, but Mulder didn't know how long she would
prevail. His left arm was his jack off arm and he would miss it a lot
if it were gone.
The trucker had given him directions, but he was a city man. He
wasn't sure if the tree with the twisted top he was told to look for
was the one over there that tilted down or the other one to the left
that looked as if it had been hit with lightning long ago.
What the hell. Mulder went left. He caught himself singing `The
worms crawled in, the worms crawled out.' He realized he had been
thinking about the Oiliens and gave a choking laugh at his morbid
twist of mind
The woods appeared to be lighter ahead. Maybe he was finally
approaching the road he had been told to look for.
Fucking hell! What was that noise? It sounded like something out of
Dante's Inferno. There was another agonized scream and every hair
on Mulder's body stood up and he felt an even deeper chill than the
one that he already suffered. He had borrowed the axe from the
trucker's lot, not having mentioned it, of course. These woods were
the kind that a medieval mapmaker would have marked, `Here there be
dragons'. Mulder needed that axe.
Every instinct told Mulder to run the other way, but he often felt
his more conservative instincts were hypnotic suggestions implanted
by Scully. He forced his fear into a tiny box in his head and ran
toward the hideous sound.
The clearing was scattered with bedding and lit with a glowing
campfire. The screaming was coming from someone on the ground. A man
was being barely held down by several ragged woodsmen kneeling on his
legs and pinioning his arms.
Indignation and fear lent berserker fury to Mulder's rush. He was
yelling, cursing, and almost foaming at the mouth. He had super human
strength, fueled by adrenaline. He reached the men holding down their
hapless victim and dragged them off, scattering the men in every
direction.
Mulder might not have pulled it off, but the victim managed to get to
his feet and grab a burning branch, striking and setting one of the
men on fire. Between the two of them, the woodsmen were routed.
It was about this time that Mulder realized he had rescued Krycek.
"God damn it to fucking hell," Mulder yelled. "If I had known it was
you . . ."
His mouth said one thing, but Mulder didn't lose a second while he
talked. Krycek's left side was covered with blood. Grabbing a shirt
that someone had left hanging from a branch, Mulder wrapped it hard
around Krycek's arm and said, "Keep pressure on the wound and stay
the fuck on your feet."
"Why the hell didn't you stay lost?" Mulder grumbled as he grabbed
things almost randomly.
"Why the hell can't you steer a truck?" Krycek shot back, despite
looking as if he was about to pass out.
"The damned brakes didn't work! I can steer!" Mulder yelled,
gathering what he hoped was a first aid kit, some food, and two
blankets up into a bundle. "Don't faint," he warned Krycek.
"You can bet I won't," Krycek said. "Just get me out of here, Mulder,
and you can beat me to your heart's content until the last day of my
life."
"Oh, a proposition. You don't know how long I've waited to hear you
say that," Mulder said.
Putting his arm around Krycek's waist, Mulder said, "Stay with me,
Alex."
"Don't leave me," Krycek said. "Just don't leave me for them."
"I won't," Mulder said, "But you have to help. Come on. Keep moving."
Mulder had to admire his ex-partner. Krycek kept moving to put
distant between him and those knives. At first, Mulder intended to go
back to the trucker's home and try to persuade him to help. However,
they took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up near a small hut. The
place was probably a woodcutter's shed and looked as if it hadn't
been used recently. There wasn't too much choice about the matter.
Krycek was down on his knees and seemed likely to stay there.
"Come on, Alex, be a big boy. I don't have the strength to lift you.
Come on, just a few more feet and you can rest," Mulder said.
"Okay," Krycek muttered. "Yeah, Mulder."
Mulder did most of the work hauling Alex into the hut. The place was
not too bad. He found a mattress. There were two, but the first one
was mildewed. Mumbling to himself, Mulder said, "But the baby bear's
was just right."
Covering the mattress with some old newspapers to sop up the blood,
Mulder helped Krycek onto the bed and said, "Why aren't you begging
me to take you back to that old buzzard you were sucking up to?"
"I sucked him," Alex said. "I sucked him off to get him in a good
mood and I would have let him fuck me to let us go. But I'm no good
to him like this."
"I'd play the violin for you if I believed any of that," Mulder
replied.
Alex turned his face away, his hand covering his deeply slashed arm.
"They tested me," Mulder said. "They shot something into my arm and
then they tied me down. There were Oiliens crawling in and out of me."
"The things died; didn't they?" Alex shot back.
"Yes, they died," Mulder admitted.
"Now you're safe," Alex said, "They can't get you. You have what
people will fight, kill, or fuck anyone over to get in the future."
"You knew about that place? You knew what they were doing all
along?" Mulder roared. "Damn you! I should leave you here to die. I'm
going to do it."
Leaving Krycek lying on the bed, Mulder grabbed whatever he could at
random. He had to get as far away from Krycek as possible.
Shit, it was cold outside. The rain was turning to snow. Mulder
looked back at the hut glumly. If he'd been smart, he would have
dumped Krycek outside and stayed inside himself.
There was firewood in that hut and a big kettle. Krycek was probably
too weak to make a fire. That arm was bad. Chances were he would die
without further help. Not that it mattered to Mulder . . . after
all, the man was a rat bastard who deserved what happened to him.
The thought of his former partner down on his knees sucking off that
bespectacled freak of a commandant pissed Mulder off further. Alex
probably had whored himself to the man. Mulder didn't want to
consider why the idea bothered him so much.
Trudging down the path, Mulder was getting colder and colder. The
snow was coming down fast. This was idiotic. He wasn't going to let
Krycek drive him out of the shelter. Turning around, Mulder made his
way back to the hut, finding his way after having to retrace his
steps two times.
Krycek hadn't moved. Mulder glanced at him as he removed his sodden
coat. The man was pale, unconscious from loss of blood and pain. The
arm had to be excruciatingly painful.
Krycek had put himself in this predicament. If he hadn't insisted
on coming to Russia with Mulder, if he had run off like a proper
little rat when Mulder went under the fence, then . . . . Mulder
didn't like the way his thoughts were going.
Ah, God, the fire felt good. The hut had seemed warm after the
outside, but now it was really becoming cozy. Mulder pumped some
water into the kettle and put it on the stand to warm. It would feel
good to get some of the filth off his body. He hoped there was some
clothing in the khaki bag he had grabbed up. Lifting the bag by the
carry strap Mulder thumped it on the table, looking over to see if
that roused Krycek. No. He was still under, although he was moaning
in his unconscious state.
The bag held a few shirts, but most of it was a first aid kit, almost
a field surgical kit. Mulder found some pills and a container with a
few needles. Was that the vaccine? The Cyrillic characters made no
sense to him. He wondered if Krycek could read Russian as well as
speak it.
"Hey, Krycek," Mulder said, "Wake the fuck up."
That was a mistake. Krycek woke screaming, thrashing around and
managing to punch Mulder in the nose. "Don't let them take my arm!
Don't let them take my arm!"
Oh shit, well, this was not going well. It was aggravating as hell.
All that movement wasn't good for Krycek's arm. Not that Mulder gave
a damn, but it would be awkward if Krycek died here. If he kept him
inside, the corpse would stink and if he dumped him outside, it might
attract wolves. There were wolves everywhere in Russia, Mulder
thought, remembering the folk tales he had read as a child. He
doubted they had much truth in them, but what he believed at home in
front of some nature show was a lot different than what he believed
in this hut. The wind howling outside might be an entire pack of
wolves.
"You better not fucking die on me, Krycek," Mulder snarled at his
semi conscious companion. "Hold still. I need to have a look at your
arm. You hear me?"
"Yeah, Mulder, I hear you," Alex replied. His head turned toward his
left arm. "I thought they took it. Thank you, Mulder."
"You could still lose it," Mulder replied. "Look, there was some
medicine in that bag I grabbed. What are these? Is this vial the
vaccine?"
"Let me see," Alex said. "No, not the vaccine. Morphine. They had
morphine and they were too cheap to waste it on me when they were
trying to cut off my arm. Give me some of it, Mulder. Please. The
pills are penicillin. I need some of those too, but give me the
morphine first."
"Just to stop you from all that whining," Mulder said. Opening the
bottle, he carefully drew up some of the liquid, tapped it to take
out the air, and picked a spot on Alex's uninjured arm.
"Damn good job," Mulder said. "As good as Scully would have done."
Watching the pain fade out from Alex's face, Mulder admitted it was a
relief to him as well. "I'd better look at that mess," Mulder said.
It was nasty. Any thoughts of trying to stitch up the edges flew out
of Mulder's head. The knife had been heated, probably saving Krycek's
life, but the fiery blade had seared his flesh. He was going to wear
a deep scar for the rest of his life if he survived.
Using the water he had heated, Mulder cleaned up the wound and
wrapped it with fresh bandages. At least the bleeding had stopped.
Rolling Krycek onto his uninjured side, Mulder removed the
newspapers. He was about to add them to the fire when Krycek
said, "Toilet paper, Mulder."
"You have an accident?" Mulder asked with a shudder. No way was he
cleaning that up!
"No, dick head," Alex said. "The newspaper is toilet paper. This
isn't America, you know."
"Yeah, I figured that out," Mulder said.
Grimacing, Alex said, "But I am going to need some help using the
bathroom at some point. Should be something to use, a bucket would
do." His eyes flickered downward in embarrassment.
"Just what I wanted to hear," Mulder said. "Can't I just put you over
one of those precious newspapers? Or doesn't Spender housebreak his
pets? Bet you suck his dick too."
"If he got it anywhere near my mouth, he'd lose it," Alex said. "I
was never his pet. I was stupid and ambitious. I fell for a line of
shit. Deal with it, Mulder. I'm not who you think I am."
"I don't know who you are," Mulder said quietly. That was honesty.
Pure and simple honesty.
That earned him a fleeting smile and Alex said, "That's okay.
Sometimes I don't know who I am either."
Eased by the morphine, Alex drifted back to sleep.
Mulder followed an irresistible urge to wash his ex-partner's face
clean, sponging away the dirt and blood. If only he could wash away
the past as easily.
The fire was banked so why was it so damn hot? Maybe the cabin was on
fire. Mulder remembered checking the hut carefully before he crawled
onto the mattress with Krycek. Waking more fully, Mulder realized
that Alex was the source of heat. He was burning up. This was so
fucking unfair. Why the hell did Mulder have to take care of a sick
rat? He never had a pet as a kid and he didn't want to start now.
Krycek was groaning, moving around so much that Mulder was sure that
he was going to start bleeding again. Mulder went to pump the water
and found that it wouldn't flow. His next thought was to try outside.
He could barely push the door open. The snow had accumulated during
the night until it was partially blocking the door. Damn it!
On the bright side, no one would be looking for them with weather
like this. They would assume that they died in the woods. Of course,
it would be necessary to live in order to make that assumption a lie.
Well, they had food, firewood, and water. They could tough it out
unless Krycek punked out and died. He'd better not. It was one thing
to prefer to be alone and another to be trapped in a cabin with no
choice in the matter.
Scooping up a bucket of snow, Mulder put it by the fire to melt. He
started bringing in wood to dry. He wanted a huge stack at hand in
case the door was entirely blocked.
By the time the wood was inside, the snow had melted, leaving only a
few inches of water in the bottom of the bucket. Mulder frowned and
filled it again. There was a couple of cracked wooden bowls in the
cupboard. He washed one out in the snow and poured in some of the
tepid water to give Krycek a sponge bath, hoping that Scully would
never hear about this.
Man, Krycek had been in these clothes too long! Mulder wrinkled his
nose as he undressed him. He really should have listened when Krycek
had demanded he buy him a change of clothing when they had arrived in
Russia. Not that Mulder was any advertisement for clean American
living. As long as they were stuck here, he had to find a way to wash
their clothing.
Alex had a new lot of bruises. Mulder had seen the damage that
Skinner and he had inflicted on their prisoner when Krycek had
undressed to have a shower in the hotel where they had spent the
night. It had been bad, but now Krycek was wearing a garden full of
colors. Maybe he hadn't been lying when he claimed they had tortured
him at the camp.
Krycek's olive sweatshirt was a total loss. The undershirt would have
been salvageable, but when Mulder started to pull it off, Alex yelped
with pain. He decided to cut it off. Krycek opened his eyes, staring
at Mulder with a gaze that was overly bright with fever.
"Don't want to fuck right now," Krycek announced. "Later."
It was no use reasoning with the man. Mulder said, "Okay, later. I'm
just going to give you a bath. That sound nice?"
"Yeah, I stink," Alex said. He sniffed again and said, "Man, you
stink too."
"We both stink, but you have a fever," Mulder said.
"Nice," Alex said. The `nice' was either because Alex was happy to
have a fever or in appreciation of Mulder's sponge bath.
Mulder found himself taking his time. Well, why not? No reason he
shouldn't look. After all, Alex should be very grateful. Mulder had
saved his arm and maybe his life.
Mulder wondered again about whether Alex had really given the
commandant a blowjob. Bet Alex looked good on his knees, little pink
mouth stretched wide to accommodate a cock. He was a good-looking
kid, nice body, and a really nice ass not to mention a very pretty
face.
Moving the man's legs apart, Mulder decided he might as well make a
thorough job out of the washing. Krycek sighed and rolled over on his
good arm, his leg raised.
"My Mulder," Alex said, reaching for his cock with his injured arm.
Mulder's care must have interwoven with Alex's dreams until the pain
pulled Alex back to the reality of his situation. Mulder didn't know
how he felt about Alex having erotic fantasies about him. It should
have bothered Mulder more than it did, but, instead, he found Alex's
reaction fascinating, almost inviting.
"Just giving you a bath. You may as well stay like that," Mulder
said. "I'll wash your back."
"Thanks, Mulder," Alex said.
"Did you really suck the commandant's cock?" Mulder said..
"Yeah," Alex said. "And I would have let him fuck me too so he would
let us go."
"That ugly old bastard?" Mulder said.
"Not everyone has a choice, Mulder," Alex said. "God, I'm so hot. I'm
burning up. I want to go outside. Let me go outside."
"It's snowing," Mulder said.
"It would feel so good, lying down in the snow," Alex said. His
eyes focused briefly on Mulder and Alex laughed softly. "Let's go
outside and make snow angels."
"You're crazy with fever," Mulder said, but he couldn't keep the
laugh out of his voice at the idea of his best beloved enemy and him
playing in the snow like children. "I'm not going to let you freeze
your ass off," Mulder added.
"I want to go outside," Alex roared, unexpectedly launching himself
off the bed. He was surprisingly strong and fast.
Mulder tackled him, pinning him to the bed until he fretted himself
to sleep.
Jesus, what a ridiculous situation this was!
Well, the fire was still warm and the water in the bucket was almost
warm, good enough to wash the stink away. Mulder shivered, but
persisted until the past few days of grime were washed away. He still
couldn't devise a way to wash their clothing, but he would be warm
enough under the blanket.
Mulder wrapped the blankets tightly and for good measure took
advantage of the heat radiating from Alex's body by lying close to
him.
Moaning, Alex muttered in Russian. The only words that Mulder
recognized were Arntzen and nyet. Alex seemed to be begging Arntzen
to stop something. Queasily, Mulder realized that Alex was reliving
some sort of sexual activity. Perhaps a rape or, at least, not
welcomed intercourse. Alex's voice seemed different, younger. Alex
was a puzzle and here was another piece.
Waking, Mulder realized he was staring at Alex's naked back. Damn
lucky it was not at the knife that Mulder had left sitting in plain
sight.
"Mulder, I need another shot," Alex said, his voice shaking.
"Yeah, I'll give you one. It's time for the antibiotic too. You
should eat something while you're up, too," Mulder said.
"Jaw's too sore to chew jerky," Alex said. "Maybe if you boil some of
it into a soup. There are some potatoes in there, too."
"Why is your jaw sore?" Mulder asked.
The fist-shaped bruises were as good an answer as Alex's roll of the
eyes and shrug of the shoulder.
Okay, change the subject.
"Potatoes? I didn't see any," Mulder replied.
"The bag of dried up looking things," Alex said, "Those are sun dried
potatoes."
"They don't look edible," Mulder remarked.
"People have preserved them that way for hundreds of years," Alex
said.
"Smart ass," Mulder said. "I didn't grow up here. Did you?"
Alex turned around to look at him and said, "Am I trading information
for your tender care?"
"Yeah," Mulder said. "How did you know the camp commander?"
"Because that is where they dumped me when I was taken from my
parents," Alex said. "It was some kind of joke since my parents were
Russian immigrants. Send the kid to Siberia."
"You were taken?" Mulder said.
"Abducted, just like your sister," Alex said. "I was a hostage for
the rest of my family, meat for the tests. I lived in that camp until
I was fifteen. I fought it when I first woke up there, but I learned
fast."
"And you slept with the commander?" Mulder said. "He raped you?"
"I was hungry," Alex said. "I traded the only thing I had. I learned
to be his good boy until they decided to recruit me as a soldier.
Then they cleaned me up, built me a pretty little record and I
became, in time, Agent Krycek."
Mulder had to step away, bite back the impulsive, poisonous words
that threatened to come out. Alex Krycek always threw him into a
tailspin. It was too easy to lash out at him when Mulder's own fears,
confusion, or feelings of helplessness started spinning out of
control. He almost said something crude about Alex's disclosure,
something he might not forgive himself for saying later.
A moment later, Mulder felt sick when he considered Alex's comments
in light of what he feared had happened to his sister. Had Samantha
been thrown into a situation like that? Had she been the victim of
abuse, seeing no way out except to bargain with the sick bastards?
"Mulder, you okay?" Alex asked. "You look strange."
"Alex, what happened to you . . . was that . . .do you know how
Samantha was treated after her abduction?" Mulder asked, his voice
revealing his fear and grief.
Alex was silent long enough to make Mulder wonder if he was planning
to answer. "Ah, Mulder, I know it wasn't like that for her. She was
tested. We were all subjected to tests, trying to find a way that we
could fight the aliens or become like them. I tried to find out what
happened to her after I met you. I thought the information might be
useful."
There was another silence. Alex didn't want to meet Mulder's
eyes. "Spender had her for a while, treated her like his kid. Spender
is a lot of things, but he doesn't molest children."
"Thank you, Alex," Mulder said. He hoped that it was the truth and
not another case of Alex making things up to mollify him.
"You do what you have to do to survive," Alex added.
Mulder had been planning to ask Alex more about Samantha, but this
might not be the time. He would bide his time and wait, draw Alex
out, and gain his trust. Besides, there was something Mulder needed
to say.
"You're not a child now, Alex," Mulder said.
"I wasn't a kid when I was a child," Alex replied.
"I mean that you should have looked at other choices," Mulder
said. "There were other ways to escape from that camp. I escaped. I
took you with me."
Alex was sulking. He said, "You weren't there. Don't you dare look
down at me for what I did."
"I'm not," Mulder said, "Not for what happened to you as a kid. If
you want to keep being a victim . . ."
"I'm not a victim," Alex said. "I never was a victim. I chose what I
did. I survived, Mulder. You wouldn't have made it out of that camp
if it had been you."
Alex spit his words out, his face red with rage. Mulder knew that he
was challenging the man's adaptive mechanisms, the lies Alex told
himself to live with the trauma in his life.
Mulder thought it was time to back away. It might not be a good idea
to break through Alex's barriers now. Psychological wounds sometimes
had to be reopened to heal, but that process belonged in a controlled
environment and Mulder was not the person to guide Alex through it.
Shrugging, Mulder reminded, "You need me, Alex. Keep that in mind."
"You going to take it out in trade?" Alex asked, his tone of voice as
insulting as he could make it.
"You better hope I think your ass is worth saving," Mulder snapped. A
moment later, he regretted it. Damn, he hadn't wanted to lose control
again with Alex. It infuriated him that Alex could bring this out in
him, a side of his personality that Mulder hated. On the other hand,
Alex must feel as confused as he did from the way he refused to let
the argument drop.
"Alex, I'm sorry," Mulder said. "I didn't mean that the way it
sounded. I'm not like that man. I'm not the Commandant."
"You think I don't fucking know that?" Alex exploded.
It was all too much. This conversation had to end before Mulder let
Alex goad him into actions that seemed totally unacceptable to
Mulder.
Getting up, Mulder walked across the room, took out the medication
and injected Alex, his control slipping to the point that he was
rough, causing Alex to hiss through his teeth in pain.
"Take your pill," Mulder said, shoving it at the man and following
with a cup of water.
The other side of the hut seemed safer. Mulder paced, wishing he
could lose the fear that still nagged at him. He didn't want to think
about Alex as a terrified teenage boy in the hands of brutal, sick
adults because he couldn't stand the idea that his sister might have
endured the same. No, it was more than that. He found it incredibly
painful to think about that happening to anyone, even Alex. No,
Mulder admitted to himself . . . especially not to Alex.
Maybe there was something between them that had to be settled here.
Meanwhile, it had been a long while since Alex had eaten and he
needed nutrition to replace the blood he had lost. Mulder had to make
the soup. He took out some more of the dried meat and the wrinkled
blackened things that Alex said were potatoes.
There was comfort in doing something, even something as mundane as
making a meal. Mulder prolonged the task, tearing the meat in small
strips and trying to break the tough, fibrous potatoes into chunks
before adding them to the kettle of water.
"I have to go," Alex said, so quietly that Mulder didn't hear at
first. Alex repeated it, "Mulder, I have to go."
"Of all the . . ." Mulder exclaimed, "Why do I deserve this? What the
hell did I do?"
Alex's timing sucked. Mulder had just about calmed down and stopped
thinking about him. Now he was forced back into intimate contact with
Alex. Still grumbling, Mulder found a rusty can to press into
service. He presented it to Krycek, who promptly dropped it. The man
was too weak to hold the can. "You better be strong enough to hold
your own dick," Mulder said. "You better not piss on me!"
Mulder glared into Krycek's face as he waited. He waited. Waited
longer and finally said, "I thought you had to go?"
"Look away at least," Krycek said.
"Oh, God, now you decide you're a blushing virgin?" Mulder bitched,
but he looked away.
Finally, the trickle started and then a flood. Mulder grimaced, but
held steady. He asked when there was no more sound, "Are you done??"
"Yeah, thanks," Alex said.
Mulder dumped the can outside, adding his urine to the yellow patch
on the snow. Better remember where he pissed. He didn't want to use
that snow for drinking and cooking water.
Glancing back toward the mattress, Mulder saw that Alex had retreated
beneath the blankets. Well good, Mulder didn't want to face him
either.
Bored stiff, Mulder fiddled with the fire. The soup in the kettle
didn't smell half bad. He stirred it again before scooping some out
with one of the wooden bowls. Mulder ate. He decided to dress and
wash Alex's clothes in the snow. If that worked, he would dress in
them once they were dry and wash his own. Impressed with his own
ingenuity, Mulder wished Alex was awake to appreciate it. Alex could
do that admiring stare he had mastered in the brief weeks when he was
pretending to be Mulder's partner.
God, the man was very quiet. Mulder prodded at the clothing he had
hung near the fire. The garments were stiff, but they smelled a lot
better. Alex would be pleased once he was well enough to get out of
bed.
Mulder stirred the soup again. There was even something that looked
like gravy as the meat slowly dissolved. Sore jaw and all, Alex
should be able to eat that.
Mulder brought more firewood inside. He let some of the logs thump
down. That should have awakened Alex.
Still nothing. Was Alex even breathing? Damn, Mulder hadn't been
careful with the shot this time. Had he given Alex too much? Alex
might have contacts, he spoke the language. He might need him to get
out of Russia. Mulder squatted down and put his fingers on Alex's
neck to check for a pulse. Alex seemed cooler, but not room
temperature, thank God. The lush eyelashes fluttered. Alex's mouth
opened. He yawned and stirred.
"Thought you might have died," Mulder said.
"Actually I feel better," Alex said.
"Good," Mulder said. "I washed your jeans and one of the shirts I
grabbed. I'm afraid the sweatshirt is trashed."
"Thanks, Mulder," Alex said. He sniffed the air and said, "Are you
cooking something?"
"Yeah, soup. It worked out just like you said," Mulder said. "No
cockroaches either."
"Good, I hate cockroaches," Alex said.
When Alex struggled to get up, Mulder reached out to help him. Alex
glanced at him and said very softly, "Thanks, Mulder."
"No problem, Alex," Mulder said. "I'll get you some soup."
Alex's right arm was injured as well. It must have happened when he
jumped from the truck. Mulder shook his head. What a fuck up! He
hoped they would get out of here alive.
"I'll feed you," Mulder said, taking the spoon.
"I can do it," Alex said.
"You're spilling soup," Mulder said. "I sleep in that bed too."
"Sorry," Alex said.
"No problem," Mulder said. "Open wide."
Most of the bowl emptied into Krycek's mouth spoonful by spoonful.
Maybe it could be nice to have a pet. That's how Mulder should think
about Alex, a pet, a diversion, something to keep him from going stir
crazy in this small cabin.
"You want more?" Mulder asked.
"No, that's fine," Alex replied. "I haven't been getting a lot to eat
lately."
"Did you really freak out because of the cockroaches?" Mulder
asked. "When you threw the soup and started yelling at the guard."
"Yeah, it was the last straw," Alex said. "I was going to tough it
out and hope that we could escape, then that damned bug was in your
soup. I hate bugs, cockroaches most of all. There were a lot of bugs
in the silo, crawling all over me. I couldn't keep them off."
"I know what you mean," Mulder said without thinking too much. "I
hate them, too. I once told Scully that I thought they were like some
alien form of life." He realized after a moment that he had started
to talk to Krycek as if he was a companion again. Why was it so easy
to slip into that mode? They had only been partners such a short time.
"You're wrong, Mulder," Krycek said. "I don't like bugs, but compared
to the Oiliens, they are our relatives."
"You were in the silo?" Mulder asked. "You mean with the ship after
you took off on me? Did Spender leave you in there?"
"You fucking knew that he did!" Alex said, voice shaking with rage.
"No, I didn't," Mulder said. "I wanted you dead, but not like that.
I'm not that kind of asshole."
"You didn't know," Alex said, watching Mulder with eyes narrowed to
angry slits.
"Yeah, I swear," Mulder replied, flashing a Boy Scout signal.
"I believe you," Alex said slowly.
Taking the bowl, Mulder scrubbed it with more snow. When he returned
to the cabin, he asked Alex, "You need to go again?"
"No, I'm fine," Alex said. "A little cold."
"I could move the mattress nearer the fire," Mulder said.
"Might set it on fire," Alex said.
"I'll get in bed with you then," Mulder said, "Just to keep warm.
Doesn't mean anything other than that."
"I know that, Mulder," Alex replied.
"I don't want to end up alone here," Mulder blurted. Oh shit, he
shouldn't have said that.
"I know, Mulder," Alex said. "I know. When I was down there, I would
have crawled on my knees just to hear Spender's voice and I hate
Spender."
"Did those militia guys really get you out?" Mulder asked.
Silence was his only answer. Mulder said, "Krycek, I'm saving your
ass."
Alex thought about it. "You ever seen something that looks human,
but all the orifices are sewed shut?" Alex asked.
"No," Mulder said. "Are you trying to distract me with horror
stories?"
"That's what took me from the silo," Alex said. "That's who I'm
working for now. One of the groups I'm working for."
"Figures you have more than one side. What are they? These creatures
with sewn up faces?" Mulder asked.
"Runaway mules," Alex said. "Alien rebels."
"What?" Mulder questioned.
"If I tell you more, what are you going to do with the information?"
"Go public with it I guess," Mulder said. "When we get back. You're
the one that said I should expose him. You said I could destroy the
destroyer's ability to destroy."
"I was telling you what you wanted to hear," Alex said sadly. "No one
would believe you. You would be just another madman, crying in the
wilderness."
"So what are you doing with your information? Selling it?" Mulder
said.
"No. Information is power," Alex replied. "I go in. I get their
secrets. I give it to the rebels, and to the resistance."
"Wait, the resistance? That's different than the rebels?" Mulder
asked.
"Yeah, Bill Mulder started it. He recruited guys like me, brought
them far enough into the project to know the truth and then told us
what the real purpose of the project is," Alex said.
"Now you're telling me you worked for my father? You're full of shit,
Krycek," Mulder snarled, scrambling away from his former partner.
"I don't care what the fuck you believe!" Alex shouted, his voice
still hoarse from screaming and fever. "You ask me so many questions
and you don't even listen to my answers. Why don't you just fucking
get it over with? Throw me out in the snow. Slit my throat. Just do
it, Mulder."
Jerkily, Mulder dressed in Krycek's clothing, grabbed his own
garments and went outside to wash them. He rubbed and pounded them in
the snow, his hands growing numb with cold. He was shuddering. His
teeth chattered. He still couldn't bring himself to face Krycek.
Hell, he had to get out of here. Mulder headed out blindly in what he
hoped was the direction of the truck driver's house. Maybe he could
get help there. Never mind that he was soaked. Never mind that the
blinding white eroded whatever sense of direction he had left.
Sleepy, Mulder was dimly aware that this was the wrong thing to do.
He had been wandering in a circle for a long time and had fallen over
something buried in the snow. He just wanted to lay here for a moment.
Someone would not let him sleep. Someone was kicking him.
A hysterical voice said, "Mulder, don't you fucking die on me. Get
up. Get up."
Stupid Krycek. Stupid Alex. He wasn't supposed to care. Rat Bastard
never played right. Never cared about the rules.
Still swearing, Mulder struggled to his feet. Alex had his boots on
and was wrapped in blankets, but his teeth were already chattering.
There was a pink drop on the snow. Alex must have damaged his wounded
arm coming out here.
Grabbing Alex, Mulder took a few staggering steps. They were swaying
like drunkards.
"It's not far," Alex said. "Don't worry, Mulder. It's not far. We can
do this."
They could. Just barely, they could.
Mulder wasn't sure how he ended up back on the bed with Alex or what
happened to his clothing. He woke up with his arms around Alex. He
was warm, almost hot beneath the blankets with the two of them
wrapped so tightly together. When he stirred, the rat bastard kissed
him on his forehead, his cheek, his nose, before finding his lips. He
was so warm. Being hugged and kissed felt nice. Didn't really matter
who it was.
Maybe.
Or maybe Alex's kisses were sweeter. Lovely traitorous kisses. Alex's
lips were a little dry from the fever, but he had a beautiful mouth.
Mulder's tongue explored the crease in Alex's upper lip before
sweeping his kiss from side to side. Alex moaned a little, a hot,
impatient little moan that seemed to rush from Mulder's ears down his
spine and straight to his cock.
Sliding his hands to Alex's ass, Mulder kneaded the plush
cheeks. "You sure you want to do this, Mulder?" Alex asked.
Mulder stopped and said, "Are you sure you are the one who should be
asking that? Alex, what is this about? It isn't like . . ."
"It's about how I feel," Alex said. "The way I've always felt about
you. I want you to make love to me."
Mulder spent a long time studying Alex's face, making sure he saw the
truth in his eyes. He saw sexual excitement, affection, and need.
Reassured, Mulder said, "If you want me to make love to you, just
shut up and let me."
That made Alex smile as they moved close again. He was still, letting
Mulder explore him. It was as if Mulder had never seen Alex, not
really.
Mulder's hands mapped Alex's wide hips, his strong thighs, stroked
and caressed Alex's pretty cock with its perfect round head. Alex's
skin was soft, supple, nearly hairless. Mulder lost himself in the
sensation until Alex made an eager, impatient sound. It was time to
move on. Mulder's cock agreed with that assessment.
"Turn around," Mulder said. His hands drifted up and down Alex's
chest, played with his nipples until Alex was arching against
Mulder's belly like a cat.
"Oh, hell, I need some lube," Mulder muttered. He should be thinking
about a condom too, but the one brief trepidation passed
quickly. "You clean, Alex?"
"Yeah," Alex said. "They tested me."
Looking over his shoulder, Alex said, "See if there's something in
the first aid kit."
"Something that doesn't sting," Alex added.
That made Mulder laugh. What did Alex think? He wanted his dick
coated with Mercurochrome or something like that?
"Got to be something in here," Mulder muttered, throwing the
remaining contents of the bag all over the small table where he had
put it. Finally, he located a small tin of something that looked and
smelled like Vaseline. Bringing it to Alex, Mulder asked, "Is this
Vaseline?"
"Close enough," Alex said. "I'd worry about the condom being damaged
by it, but since we don't have one . . . "
"Lift your leg up," Mulder said. "Here, let me stuff the blanket
under your side so I don't jar your arm."
Alex looked anxious and said, "It's been a while, Mulder."
"I'll be careful," Mulder said. "I know I'm big."
"Yeah, I know," Alex said. "I've sneaked enough glances at it."
"Thought you were looking at my dick," Mulder said, absurdly pleased.
His finger explored inside Alex eagerly, his dick harder by the
moment. One finger, two fingers, a kind of queer Dr. Seuss rhythm.
God, it was nice the way Alex kept moving back against his fingers
and mewling so eagerly. Mulder always thought his former partner was
a sexy kid. He had never acted on it until now, but hey, this was
Never-Neverland and the rules were bound to be different. Nothing
counted that happened here.
Alex was tight, but he wasn't afraid. "Do it, Mulder," Alex said, his
entire body shaking as he drew a deep breath. "I'm ready."
"Yeah," Mulder said, positioning his cock to push inside.
It was almost too much. Alex's little moan undid Mulder. He almost
came at the sudden heat surrounding his cock and that heady little
moan. He wasn't all the way inside yet. He waited, trying to think of
the last staff meeting that he attended or of how fucking cold it was
outside.
"Muh uhl der," Alex thrummed. "Muh uhl der, I'm ready."
"Don't be pushy," Mulder said. "Give me a minute or the show will be
over before it starts."
"Oh," Alex said.
There was something Mulder could do, something he wanted to do. He
reached around to find Alex's cock. Good, it was hard as rock too,
standing up so high that it was nearly flat against his belly. Mulder
ran his fingers up and down its length, squeezing lightly, flicked
the tip, loving the way Alex went wild at his touch.
He had to move now. Mulder thrust in and out, Alex's hips taking up
the pattern gladly. One hand on Alex's hip and the other guiding his
erection, Mulder didn't have a thought in his head except that it was
good. It was fine. It was perfect and he wanted to keep doing this
forever.
Alex's head was pounding back against him. His arm was probably much
the worse for the way he was moving. Mulder urged Alex along, his
hand leaving Alex's hip to take his cock again.
Moving together, moaning in counterpoint. Mulder felt as if every
nerve in his body was alive, firing in perfect rhapsodies of pleasure.
"Oh, Mulder, I'm coming," Alex announced. "I'm coming."
Mulder was too. His body arching, his thrusts spasmodic. All of him
dissolving in bursts of delight.
Damn. Over. Mulder didn't want to withdraw, didn't want to let go of
the pleasure. He curved his head over Alex's shoulder and said, "You
belong to me."
Alex said, "Yeah."
"Just to me," Mulder ordered.
"I know, Mulder," Alex said.
Damn, Alex sounded happy.
"Anytime I want," Mulder said.
"Oh, yes, Mulder," Alex said.
Mulder found some rags to clean them up. Between fighting his way
back here and making love to Alex, he was exhausted. He made a few
swipes with the rags and then tossed the rags toward the wall. Alex
cradled against him as Mulder pulled up the covers. At peace and
happy, Mulder slept.
The cabin was cold when Mulder woke up. He grimaced as he rolled over
and out of bed. His clean up job had been none too comprehensive. He
still smelled of sex and sweat. Alex snuffled and moved about in his
sleep when Mulder's warmth withdrew. Mulder found himself smiling.
This was crazy, but it was right. Mulder took a moment longer to
consider a future that included Alex. There must be a way to protect
him and even have him reinstated in the FBI. Things could be the way
Mulder imagined they should be, Alex back as his partner along with
Scully, the X-Files reopened. It was possible or so Mulder felt this
morning.
Happy thoughts of a better future had to make way for here and now.
The fire had burned down to mere embers while Mulder slept. Mulder
coaxed the flames back to life, but it was still too cold. He needed
one of those blankets until he could dress. He worried that all the
clothing was damp. He didn't remember undressing, just somehow
ending up naked in that bed with Alex.
Wrapped in his blanket, Mulder found their clothing heaped on one of
the two rickety chairs by the equally ancient table. Fuck, he would
need to wash Alex's clothing again and dry everything. Of all the
stupid moves, Mulder, he lectured himself.
The kettle needed some more water. Mulder stepped outside to scoop up
more snow to melt. The sky was just starting to show a trace of red;
it was very early. Yawning, Mulder decided to add meat to the soup
and found a small package of barley. That might as well go in the
soup too. He moved the kettle farther from the heat so the soup
wouldn't burn. Pleased with himself, Mulder decided he had earned the
right to relax in bed. Alex moved back against him, making a
contented sound. Mulder was comfortable and more content than he
remembered being in ages. He went back to sleep.
Morning came and Mulder woke. For some reason, he had no inclination
to get out of bed. Propped on one elbow, he watched Alex sleep.
Eyelashes fluttered. Then a tiny yawn followed by a wince as Alex
tried to stretch.
"How did you find me?" Mulder asked.
"You weren't far from the hut," Alex replied. "Looks like you walked
in a big circle. Lucky."
"Stupid," Mulder replied. "I could have died out there. Why did you
risk your life to save me?"
"It was in my best interests," Alex said. "I need you."
Alex struggled up and grimaced. "It didn't do my arm any good though."
"You just stay in bed," Mulder said. "We can't go anywhere yet. It's
still snowing."
"There's a problem with that. I need to go to the outhouse," Alex
explained.
"You up to that?" Mulder asked.
"Yeah, with some help," Alex said.
The clothing was mostly dry by now. Mulder dressed and helped Alex
dress. Alex couldn't put on his boots this morning without help. As
Mulder suspected, struggling through the snow and enthusiastic sex
had not been good for Alex's arm.
They reached the outhouse and Mulder wrenched open the door, moving
aside a great deal of snow. "You need me in there?" Mulder asked.
"No, just wait for me," Alex said.
"Oh, my God, whatever you do, don't try to sit on this thing! I just
about froze my ass off!" Alex's voice came from the dark outhouse.
"Good advice," Mulder said.
It took a very long time, but at last Alex came out. Holding the door
ajar, Mulder asked, "Do you need help to get back inside?"
"No, I can walk," Alex said.
"Go inside," Mulder said. "Be careful. The snow is deep."
"Thanks, Mulder," Alex replied, slowly making his way back towards
the hut.
Mulder waited a bit until he was sure Alex was not going to fall
before taking his turn inside the rickety outhouse.
When Mulder tramped his way back to the hut, Alex was sitting on one
of the chairs, his injured arm, cradled in his right hand. "Snow is
slowing down," Alex said.
"Gee, you missed a career as a weatherman, Alex," Mulder said.
"You know what I mean," Alex said, "We should get moving soon."
"Another day," Mulder said. "I want to be sure you're strong enough."
Alex laughed, a genuine, show your teeth and throw back your head
chuckle. "I might not be if we do what we did last night again."
"I don't know," Mulder said. "You seem to be in a damn fine mood now."
"Yes," Alex said. "As long as you don't have any regrets."
"No regrets, Alex," Mulder said. "Just that we didn't do it sooner."
"All you ever had to do was ask," Alex said.
"I'm not good at asking to have my needs met," Mulder admitted.
There wasn't much to do in the cabin except fuck. As appealing as
that idea was, Mulder knew Alex was right. It would have to wait
until Alex was healed.
They ate. Mulder washed the bowls and carefully culled their meager
belongings down to what he could carry.
"I have some contacts," Alex said. "They can get us out."
"Good," Mulder said.
"Mulder," Alex said.
"Yeah?" Mulder replied.
There was a long silence.
"Mulder, we have to talk," Alex said.
"About my father?" Mulder said.
"About Bill Mulder," Alex said. "He wanted to bring you in."
"And?" Mulder asked.
"Spender, the man you call Cancerman, wanted him killed," Alex
said. "I didn't do it, but I was there that night. Bill was going to
tell you to work with me."
"Alex, don't lie to me," Mulder said.
"I'm not lying about it. I didn't kill Bill Mulder. He recruited me.
He trained me," Alex said. "Look, Bill knew what was going to happen.
Spender told him to rein you in. Bill knew that they were going to
try to break you. At first, he thought that you would be useful on
the inside, but, man, what they were doing to you. Bill couldn't
stand it. You were his son."
Alex was still lying about something. Mulder could tell, but there
was also something of the ring of truth to Alex's words. Between
distrust of Alex and wanting to believe him, Mulder's words were
quiet and flat. "A lot of what they did was you, Alex," Mulder said.
"Not nearly as much as you think," Alex said. "Look, Mulder, you know
I've always had a thing for you, but I knew what we were looking at.
I'm not willing to trade a good piece of ass for my cause. I did what
I had to do."
"Scully?" Mulder asked.
"Look, I didn't know that was going to happen. Spender was an idiot.
He thought he could control you by taking her away. Giving her to
them was the worst thing he could have done," Alex said.
"You're talking awfully fast, Alex, my dear," Mulder said. "For
someone telling the truth."
"Yeah, well, I'm nervous," Alex said. "Usually when we have this
conversation, you end up hitting me. You hit hard."
"I do, don't I?" Mulder said, contemplating his fist proudly.
"I don't like being hit," Alex said.
"But you kept coming back for more," Mulder replied.
"It was my job to keep you alive," Alex said. "To keep you on the
right path, but to keep you from finding out the kind of things that
would have made Spender kill you or worse. So we danced our dance.
You didn't know what I was doing and so you hated me. You didn't
understand my role."
"Make me understand," Mulder invited.
"Not unless you're ready," Alex said.
"Ready?" Mulder was getting worried now. This didn't sound as if it
was going to lead to Alex miraculously working with him on the X-
Files.
"Ready to fight dirty," Alex said. "Ready to leave the FBI and join
the resistance. Bill always said I needed you. I didn't agree. I was
jealous. Yeah, I thought you had a pretty face, and a big cock, and a
wonderful ass . . ."
Alex sounded as if he was ready to continue to catalog Mulder's
virtues for a long time so Mulder blew in his face to bring him back
on topic.
"But I didn't think I was doing that bad," Alex said. "I got the
disk, didn't I?"
"I don't think that was exactly a well planned operation," Mulder
replied.
"Yeah, I know," Alex said. "Only, the one Spender took back wasn't
the original. It had a couple of nice little extras on it. Talk about
your computer spy ware. Bill was right, though, I do need your help."
"As what? Bonnie to your Clyde?"
"I need you, Mulder," Alex declared. "I need your leaps of intuition.
I need the way you balance me. We need to be working for the same
side. I need the only person at my back that I would ever trust."
"What about Scully?" Mulder said.
"She can be what you were supposed to be," Alex said, "Our person on
the inside. Skinner will protect her. He has a thing for her anyway."
"You're kidding," Mulder replied, trying to stretch his mind around
that concept.
"Mulder, say something," Alex said.
"Something," Mulder replied absently. He gazed into Alex's eyes and
said, "Give me some time."
Alex didn't look happy, but he nodded. He walked back to the bed and
said, "I'm going to get some rest."
It was still dark outside. Pretty damned dark inside too. Mulder
threw more logs on the fire before lying down next to Alex to sleep.
His mind was racing. If he didn't want it to be true so badly, it
would be easier to believe. He had always thought Alex was the key. A
nice, well-oiled key that would fit to his hand and unlock all the
secrets that kept dancing out of his reach.
Now Alex was offering him everything: answers, freedom, no more
bullshit crammed down his throat, great sex. The whole nine yards.
Alex snuffled in his sleep and reached out towards him with his right
hand. When his palm found Mulder's stomach, he smiled and relaxed.
That should be proof, Mulder speculated. A guy couldn't lie in his
sleep, could he? Unless Alex was just feigning sleep. He did seem
to be out of it though, breathing with deep slow breaths. What the
hell, Mulder thought. If he had to investigate one more case of
farmers ordering too much fertilizer, he was going to take his FBI
issue pistol, climb to the top of a watch tower, and start popping
off random sons of bitches.
"You better not be lying to me, asshole," Mulder muttered. He covered
Alex's hand on his belly and went to sleep.
"You need to rest again?" Mulder asked.
"Sorry," Alex said.
Mulder had devised a sling to support Alex's wounded arm. At least
the right arm had recovered from the sprain or whatever was wrong
with it. Mulder was tired, too. He had to carry everything and he
couldn't find a way to do that without having the knapsack and
shoulder bag chafe.
Head down, his right hand supporting the lump of bandages that
covered his left arm, Alex looked beat. Mulder shed his burdens, sat
down, and put his arm around his partner. Alex had found a log that
leaned against a bigger log. It was reasonably dry, covered by thick
moss, and sheltered by the sweep of fallen trees.
"Just lean on me," Mulder said.
"You going to sing to me?" Alex said.
"Huh?" Mulder said, sounding brilliant even to himself.
"Not much for pop music?" Alex replied.
"I like Elvis," Mulder announced.
"Elvis is nice," Alex said. He put his head on Mulder's
shoulder. "Your shoulder is nicer."
"Yeah, you rest. I'll hold onto you," Mulder said.
"Thanks, Mulder," Alex said.
Closing his eyes, Mulder sagged back and tried to rest too. They had
spent last night hiding in a gulch with no fire, damp ground, and
Alex running a fever again despite the penicillin.
It was a good thing that Alex was made of sterner stuff than Mulder
would have ever believed. It was a wonder that the man was able to
walk at all.
Having sex with him back at the hut hadn't been such a good idea,
Mulder knew. Still, it did seem to have resolved some things. Amazing
how a well fucked feeling can clear your head.
Or not.
Mulder listened to the Scully voice in his head. Something about
thinking with the wrong head again.
Reaching metaphysical fingers into his subconscious, Mulder twiddled
with the dials until Scully's voice became a babbling brook.
Speaking of head, Mulder bet that Alex gave great head. The babbling
brook went silent.
When they finally reached a phone they could use, Alex called his
contacts. They sent a truck to come and get them. By the time the
truck arrived, Alex had collapsed, feverish and half out of his head.
Mulder thought the man and woman, with cold eyes and weather beaten
faces, who came to get them might have killed him if Alex hadn't
roused enough to shout at them. Mulder wasn't sure what Alex said,
but the man and woman treated him with respect after that.
The arm was worse than Mulder thought it was and the Russian doctor
who was in charge talked about amputating it. Alex roared out his
answer to that and Mulder was ready to carry Alex back out of the
place on his back to stop them. Alex's people spoke to the staff and,
after they did, there was no question that the arm would be saved.
Much as he hated hospitals, Mulder hadn't been willing to leave
Alex's side. He told himself it was only because Alex was his ticket
out of here. It was a case of mutual interests.
Or, it could be love.
Hell of thing if it was love.
Love can't quite be quantified. It certainly can't be planned for or
made to feel. Then someone, maybe someone so wrong for you . . .
Maybe someone so right for you that nothing else matters but him.
Two days later, Alex was still weak and he had lost a lot of weight
that he could ill afford to lose. The fever had broken and the arm
was out of danger if not usable anytime soon. Mulder really didn't
think Alex was ready to leave the hospital, but the medical staff was
unwilling to put up with Alex's surly guardians any longer. Mulder
admitted he had been a pain in the ass too, but Russian medical care
left a lot to be desired even if the staff thought they were
providing medical care to a high ranking security officer.
Mulder liked the dacha. That was what the woman called it. Neither of
Alex's two helpers gave him a name, even a false one. He knew they
spoke English, but for the most part, they talked only to each other
and Alex.
When Mulder said the house was beautiful, like the beach houses of
his childhood, the woman said that it was a dacha that formerly
belonged to a high ranking party member. Now he was dead and it
belonged to Alex.
It wasn't large, but there was a view of the riverfront even if
Mulder wasn't allowed to go outside the house. It was comfortable
and, after the past few days, Mulder appreciated modern plumbing,
electric lights, and most of all, a bed with a soft and welcoming
mattress.
The third day out of the hospital was the charm. Alex seemed more
like his old self. His arm was improving and he starting the
exercises that would in time rebuild its' strength.
The room they had been given had two beds, but Mulder didn't feel
like sleeping alone. Abandoning his bed, Mulder walked over to
Alex's, lifted the covers, and plastered his body to him.
"You trying to tell me something, Mulder?" Alex asked.
"Yeah," Mulder said. "I missed you."
"We've been together the last three weeks," Alex said.
"Yeah, but I was thinking of the hut," Mulder said.
"Thinking about being laid?" Alex said, turning around carefully.
"Now that you mention it," Mulder admitted.
"Think that sounds good to me," Alex replied. He reached with his
right hand to caress Mulder's cheek. "Let me kiss you."
That sounded good to Mulder. He leaned forward, moved his head so
Alex could meet his lips.
"I love your mouth," Alex murmured, the vibration teasing against
Mulder's lips.
"Love your mouth more," Mulder said, claiming the pink lips so
completely that he thought Alex quit breathing for a while.
"Love your neck, too," Alex said.
"I like the direction your thoughts are going, Agent Krycek," Mulder
said.
Alex's tongue flicked each of Mulder's nipples in turn. Mulder could
feel Alex's smile around the sensitive skin. He guided Alex's head
down gently. "Lower, love, lower."
Smirking at him, Alex said, "Impatient bastard."
"Your impatient bastard," Mulder corrected.
"Really?" Alex asked.
"I'm coming to that conclusion," Mulder replied.
"Mmm," Alex replied from the region of Mulder's belly.
"Getting closer," Mulder said.
"I like the way you do that," Mulder admired as Alex's clever tongue
circled around his cock.
"Ain't seen nothing yet," Alex replied, lifting his head up to grin
before returning to his work.
Eyes closed, Mulder concentrated on the sensations, Alex's tongue
exploring him, the slide of warm wet mouth on his cock, Alex's head
resting against his raised leg so he could use his only fully
functioning hand.
Eager moans and intakes of breath made Alex's attentions even more
enticing, but Mulder wanted more.
"Hey, Alex, swing that ass around this way. Don't worry. I won't let
you fall." Mulder said.
The laugh that Alex emitted sounded cute. Damn, Mulder could blush
for thinking so, but Alex sounded like a child offered a surprise.
"You really want to do me like that?" Alex asked.
"I said so," Mulder replied. "Come on. I won't bite . . . much."
There was a momentary awkwardness, a knee in Mulder's armpit among
other problems, but they settled into each other.
Alex smelled good. He might play dirty, but he liked to be clean.
Mulder said, "Just lean on my legs so you don't hurt your arm. Yeah,
good."
It had been a while, but Mulder remembered the basics: watch your
teeth, get it wet, and make it sound like you enjoy what you are
doing. He had learned that from the mistress of all blowjobs, Phoebe
Green. She had demonstrated on him, but he had to pay to play. She
liked to watch and Mulder had been crazy enough in love with her to
give in. All in all, it had been a good experience. He learned that
he was very, very bi from it.
Alex was doing that tongue swirling thing, his breathy moans creating
a subtle underscore that made Mulder want to grab that pretty head
and fuck his mouth.
Damned hard to act civilized sometimes!
Not up to Alex's finesse, Mulder contented himself with enthusiasm.
It must have worked because Alex stopped sucking him long enough to
say, "I'm going to come!"
Letting the rigid shaft slide deeper, Mulder sucked hard, his mouth
straining to surround Alex's cock. His mouth flooded with come, as
Alex pulled back a little.
.Alex, relaxed to the point of appearing boneless and with a stoned
look of pleasure on his face, had forgotten to finish Mulder. A grin
on his face, Mulder decided a good fucking was needed.
Mulder twisted around and knelt over Alex, smiling down at
him., "Real lube this time. Condoms, too, if we want them."
"I'll tell you if there's ever a reason to use them," Alex said.
"Better not be," Mulder said, "You're mine."
"Yes," Alex agreed.
"I love to fuck your ass," Mulder said. He also liked this position,
liked watching Alex's face when he was thrusting in and out of him.
He liked the way Alex's legs seemed to want to pull him tight. He
liked the way Alex's eyes stayed open, devouring his face.
Harder, faster, Alex could take it all and enjoy it. He was half
erect despite having just come and if Mulder could just hold off
until . . .
It wasn't going to happen. Mulder's brain was exploding into
rapturous pieces. His spine telegraphed happy surrender and his cock
was the locus of a seismic event of sensation.
Alex didn't have good timing. Mulder wanted to lie there and soak in
the bliss of very good sex, but Alex leaned over him, his eyes soft
with concern.
"You have to be sure," Alex said. "You could still go back to your
own life."
Hell of a time to bring that up.
The main thing that Mulder worried about was Scully. He owed her a
lot and he knew she would feel that he betrayed her. He also knew
that Alex hadn't even started to unlock the secrets buried in that
sharp mind and behind that beautiful face. His answer was more
flippant than he felt. "I could still join the circus too," Mulder
replied. "But I won't."
Alex was sweaty, not with fever though, just well fucked. He still
looked blissful even after Mulder had awakened from a short nap after
he came.
"We'll be leaving in the morning," Alex said. "Scully's in trouble.
They locked her up for not disclosing your whereabouts."
Mulder raised his fist without thinking, stopping himself before
making contact. It was old habit, taking out his frustrations on
Alex. He knew Alex was helping him. He loved Alex and yet there was
so much pain between them, so many demons.
"I'm sorry, Alex," Mulder said. "It won't happen again."
"I understand," Alex said.
"You may understand, but don't ever let me even try to hit you,"
Mulder said. "I wish I could take back every time I ever struck you."
"I'm not worried about it, Mulder. And don't worry. We'll get you
there in time for you to help her," Alex said.
Mulder had to wonder if this would work. He had blamed so much on
Alex and now his world had been turned on its axis. Hate had turned
to love. His worst enemy to his closest ally.
Mulder winced at the thought, considering Scully. She was his touch
stone, he always said, but he had asked too much of her. It was time
for him to move on.
"If I lit a match in here, the entire room would explode into a
gaseous nebula," Alex whispered.
"Shh," Mulder hissed. "I want to hear what's going on."
Scully looked pale, drawn, and tired. Mulder felt as if the Senators
had been sucking the life out of her like a coven of geriatric
vampires.
Senator Sorenson leaned forward and said, "Mister Chairman, may I?"
Senator Romine motioned for him to proceed with an avid look in his
eyes.
"Agent Scully...you've had a good long time to think about the
question that was asked in our last session. I want to give you the
opportunity to answer that question here, today. So I can help our
good chairman here to get on with this proceeding."
"I can't answer that question, sir," Scully said, her hands were
folded in her lap. She looked like the good little Catholic girl she
had been.
Senator Sorenson was a fucking bully. Mulder wanted to take him down.
He wanted his ass in a sling. Maybe Alex had something on the
man . . . My God, Mulder thought, I'm already starting to think like
him. On reflection, that was all right. It was more than all right.
"I'm going to ask you again. Where is Special Agent Mulder? Why is he
not here?" Sorenson demanded.
"I'd be happy to answer you questions about the man carrying the
diplomatic pouch..." Scully said.
"Agent Scully," Sorensen snapped, sounding like a high school
principal speaking to an errant student.
Coolly, as if she was in charge of the proceeding, Scully
replied, "...about his murder, and my opinion about its connection to
the death of Dr. Bonita Charne-Sayre of the World Health
Organization."
Senator Sorenson said, "Miss Scully....you'll get your chance with
all of that..."
"or about the biotoxin being transported within that pouch," Scully
continued.
Mulder wanted to beam proudly. That was his girl.
Taking a deep breath, Mulder hugged Alex for luck. His lover was
disguised, wearing a wig with long hair covering his short locks,
dark glasses, and a bulky suit that fooled the eye. He could have
walked past Mulder without him knowing it was Alex.
Senator Sorenson sounded as if he was a heart attack risk. "Answer
the question Miss Scully," Sorensen barked.
"What is the question?" Mulder asked after walking far enough away
from Alex not to draw unwanted attention to his lover.
Mulder thought he should have been in show business. He enjoyed the
gasps and the way the room turned to see him.
Pounding the gavel, Chairman Romine shouted, "All right. Let's come
to order. Agent Scully...do continue."
"Yes, sir. If I may I'd like to finish making my point?" Scully said,
her eyes not on her interrogator, but on Mulder.
"What is your point, Miss Scully?" Sorensen asked.
"That the death of Doctor Charne-Sayre, given her field of expertise,
not only suggests that she knew something about the toxin, but also
its origins, and that knowledge may be directly linked to the man in
Assistant Director Skinner's apartment building"
Mulder didn't know where Skinner had been. The man walked into the
room, looking as if he had the weight of the world on his back.
Skinner literally looked twice at Mulder before he bent to whisper in
Scully's ear.
They had become closer while Mulder was gone. It bothered him a
little, but he had to let go. It was good that Skinner would look
after Scully. His motivation didn't matter.
Already knowing what the secret was, Mulder waited. His chance would
come.
"Miss Scully?" Sorensen prodded.
"Yes, sir...uh...Assistant Director Skinner has just informed me that
there has been an accident directly related...:
"An accident...?" Sorensen inquired.
"A doctor, infected with the toxin, has died under suspicious
circumstances involving a theft of evidence...of the contents of the
diplomatic pouch..." Scully replied. Her blue eyes scanned the room
restlessly. Mulder hoped that Alex was slumping down in his seat.
"Well, we've gotten off to a real fine start here. I'm going to
recess now until this new matter can be explained, so that we might
then begin to move in a forward direction," Chairman Romine
announced, pounding that damn gavel again.
"Just a moment," Mulder said. "I have something to say."
"About the accident?" the Chairman asked.
"I understand that you were curious about my whereabouts," Mulder
said.
"You understand correctly," the Chairman said.
"And you imprisoned Ms. Scully illegally," Mulder accused. "Illegally
under the assumption that she knew where I was."
"Didn't she?" Sorensen shot in.
"No, she did not," Mulder said. "I told no one where I was going."
"I've reviewed your record," Sorensen said disdainfully. "It is the
record of a man who has no regard for procedure, a man who has used
considerable funds to further his private goals."
"That's what you believe," Mulder said.
"It's the truth," Sorensen replied. "And you have dragged Agent
Scully into that world and suborned your supervisor, Assistant
Director Skinner, to your cause."
"You wouldn't know the truth if it bit you in the ass," Mulder said.
"Agent Mulder, you will respect this court," the Chairman said.
"I will respect . . ." Mulder said and took a deep breath, "my
country."
"Where have you been, Agent Mulder? We have had private word that
you had gone to Russia without permission," Sorensen said, "an act of
treason."
"I have been," Mulder said. "I have been with the person I love. It
has nothing to do with Scully or Skinner. I have given most of my
adult life for a cause only I believed in. I sacrificed everything to
find the truth. Now it has found me."
"You're trying to tell me that you have been absent all these weeks
without leave for some tryst with a bimbo?" Sorensen said, his face a
mask of disbelief.
"He's not a bimbo," Mulder replied.
"He?" Sorensen said.
Mulder could have enjoyed the expressions in the room except that
Scully had gone pale save the flames on her cheeks. Walter was
looking around the room, searching for someone. Mulder hoped not for
Alex. He didn't know why he thought Skinner would leap to that
conclusion.
"I'm sorry that my dereliction of duty resulted in Agent Scully's
incarceration," Mulder said. "I have my resignation prepared."
Walking across the room, Mulder dropped the two typed pages in front
of Skinner. His supervisor shook his head and pushed the document
back.
"Not this time, Walter," Mulder said. "Take care of her." Mulder
nodded toward Dana.
Back straight, head held proud, Mulder walked from the room. Alex had
slipped away in the confusion. They would meet later at Mulder's
apartment. In fact, Alex shouldn't have come to the grand jury at
all. He seemed to think Mulder needed his support as long as
possible, which was sweet, but not the case. Mulder had faced the end
of his world before without the rosy future Alex promised.
"Aren't you going to help?" Mulder growled.
"I am helping," Alex said. "I'm standing guard. Move it, Mulder. Just
grab what you can't do without. I have a cleaning crew to get the
rest."
"I'm doing it," Mulder said. He wanted his family pictures, his
computer, his Knicks autographed basketball, and his clothes. The
rest could follow to . . .
"Where the hell are we going?" Mulder asked.
"The boss thought we could do with a rest while we work things out as
a team," Alex replied. "We get our own place."
"Housekeeping with Alex Krycek," Mulder said. "My life has never
taken a stranger turn."
"Just wait," Alex replied.
What the fuck did he mean by that?
Someone was ringing his doorbell. Mulder wasn't going to miss that
sound. It hadn't been working properly for ages. It sounded like a
mosquito on downers and sometimes when someone had pushed the button
the sound continued until Mulder went out and manually pulled the
plastic fitting out.
"Who is it?" Mulder asked.
"Scully!" his partner's voice answered.
"Wait a minute!" Mulder said.
"Want me to hide?" Alex said.
"Yes," Mulder said, "Wait, no. Scully will understand if she sees
you."
"She won't think I drugged you?" Alex asked.
As if Alex himself wasn't addictive.
Mulder said, "We'll deal with it. She knows that I found you
attractive when you were my partner."
"You did?" Alex said, beaming. "I didn't know that."
"Don't let it go to your head," Mulder said. "I didn't act on it."
Alex laughed at that. "I'm wounded. Or I probably will be when Scully
finds out."
"Mulder, I'm coming in," Scully said.
"She has a key," Mulder said, moving toward the door. "Scully, I'm
fine."
Her entry may not have had the manpower that stormed the beaches at
Normandy, but what she lacked in numbers, she made up for in moral
force.
Her FBI issue gun was in her hand. "Mulder, I . . ."
"Krycek!" Scully said, volumes of loathing layering her voice. "What
are you doing here?"
Now Scully turned toward Mulder, a question on her face.
"I wasn't lying," Mulder said, "Not entirely. I was in Russia, but I
was with my lover."
"Who?" Scully asked, refusing to believe, daring Mulder.
"Alex. Scully, much of what I believed, we believed, was a lie."
"You hate Krycek," Scully said.She looked both confused and outraged.
"That was the past. I'm going to work with Alex now. We're partners,
partners in every sense of the word."
"And this happened in less than three weeks?" Scully said. She still
had not put her gun away.
"It was an eventful three weeks," Mulder said.
"You're throwing away everything for which we worked and suffered for
that?" Scully said, pointing at Alex.
"Scully, please try to understand," Mulder said. "I don't want to
hurt you anymore. I don't want anyone else to make the sacrifices for
me. Alex has promised me a way to fight without any compromises."
"You don't think this hurts?" Scully replied, her eyes bright with
unshed tears.
"I know it hurts," Mulder said, "But you'll be safe."
"He could be lying to you," Scully said, "You could end up dead or
worse."
"He could have betrayed me at any time," Mulder said. "I've been in
his power since . . . well, it's complicated, but we were arrested in
Russia. I broke out and took him with me. He was badly injured and I
saved him, took care of him. We ended up taking care of each other."
"Mulder, this is insane," Scully said.
"I've never had a clearer moment," Mulder said. "Alex and I can
change the future. Together, we can fight them. We can win. I still
need your help, Scully, but from a distance. Let them think you've
given up the fight. Go back to the pathology lab and forget about the
X-Files."
"Mulder, I told you I wasn't sure how far I could follow you," Scully
said, finally sheathing her weapon. "I can't. I won't support you in
this."
Scully looked at him and then at Krycek. Her lips opened to speak,
but no words emerged. She turned and walked out the door.
"Don't worry, Mulder, she loves you. She'll come around," Alex said.
"I don't think so," Mulder said.
"You want to change your mind?" Alex asked.
Mulder felt an empty place in his soul. Lose Scully or lose Alex?
There was no real choice; if he lost Alex now, he would lose himself.
Kissing Alex, leaning into him, Mulder clung to his lover. It was a
giant leap of faith to go with him. It was the end of the world not
to go.
"Who is your boss?" Mulder asked, as Alex drove the Hummer up a long
crooked road.
"You'll see when we get there," Alex said.
"You love to say that," Mulder complained.
"My father always said that before they took me," Alex replied.
"How much further? Don't say I'll know when I get there."
"Not far, about ten minutes," Alex said. "Would be less, but the road
winds."
"Pretty far from everything," Mulder said.
"Makes it safer," Alex said. "Two kinds of people come up this road.
Friends and enemies. No one comes here by accident."
Mulder craned his head to see the trees far below. The last house
they passed was miles back. The last store was even more miles back.
A vast national park surrounded the scattering of houses.
"Are we going to live with this guy?" Mulder asked.
"In our own house," Alex said.
"He isn't going to object to us being lovers?" Mulder asked.
"No, he knows I'm gay," Alex said. "He doesn't have a problem with
it."
"That's good," Mulder said. They rode a few more minutes in
silence. Mulder mulled over what his new `boss' might be like.
"I've never done well with authority figures," he sighed.
"I know," Alex said, "But this one might be different."
The hummer pulled past a gate with security cameras. There were men
walking the grounds, trying hard to appear casual. Someone came to
the door of one of the three buildings when Alex parked.
Mulder thought the man looked familiar and then
"You bastard, you should have told me!" Mulder roared, not sure if he
was talking to Alex or to his father.
"No, son," Bill Mulder said. "I didn't want that to influence you. I
wanted it to be your choice."
"My choice? You let me think you were dead," Mulder said. "Do you
know what I've gone through?"
"I'm sorry, Fox," his father said. "I wanted you to have a chance to
do it your way."
Now there was someone else. Someone Mulder had seen before, but this
version was different; her eyes were brighter and the expression on
her face was as lively and spirited as he remembered.
Samantha . . .
"Dad?" Mulder said.
"Yes, Alex found her for me," Bill said. "Spender had her stashed
away, brainwashed into thinking he was her father. It's taken years
to help her remember."
"I know you never stopped looking, Fox," Samantha said.
He was hugging her. His face was wet with tears, his tears, and her
tears. Mulder could have stopped right here, died in this moment, and
been happy.
Now, Samantha was hugging Alex, embracing him so hard that he yelped.
"Hurt yourself again?" Samantha asked.
"Yeah, nearly became your brother's one armed nemesis," Alex
said. "He managed to save me in the nick of time."
"Your belongings are in your house," Mulder's father said. "Why don't
you and Alex go have a look and then we'll talk. I know you have many
questions."
"Like if this coming back from the dead stuff is something I might
have inherited," Mulder teased. "That might come in handy."
Mulder didn't have time to wonder why that made his father look sad.
Alex was tugging on his arm, eyes eager. "Come on, Mulder, I want to
see our house."
Mulder had to do it. He took Alex's hand in his, squeezed his lover's
fingers, and looked in wonder at his father and sister. His only
family member missing was Mom. Mulder said, "Dad, Samantha, this is
Alex. I think I love him."
His father smiled and said, "Good choice, son."
Samantha tossed her head much like the girl she had been and
said, "Just because you're older, you get all the good stuff."
Grinning, Mulder kissed his lover and said, "You bet I do, girl."
Gazing into Alex's eyes, Mulder thought, watch out world, we're armed
and dangerous.
The end
Armed and Dangerous
by Ursula
