by Ursula
Part III
The Executioner's Face AKA Silver
Mulder woke dreaming of a rainy day, black leather, and long beautiful limbs wrapping around his. He groaned and Walter's hand automatically emerged to stroke his stomach. Mulder grunted and rolled away, sitting on the side of Skinner's bed, his head held in faintly shaking hands.
The phone rang and Mulder reached for it before remembering it was Walter's phone and Walter still had something to lose. He handed the handset to his lover and went to take a shower. It surprised him to find Walter sitting on the bed when he emerged all nicely stuffed into his work skin. He grinned and asked, "So, Walter? Did I finally break my favorite toy?"
Walter said, "Krycek... Krycek was found shot in the head."
Mulder felt so many things it was impossible to sort them out, but what he said was, "Shit." He staggered and sat next to Walter on the bed.
Walter said, "He's not dead. Not yet at least. Scully was working late when he was id'ed and slapped a protection order on him."
Mulder shook his head and said, "You know that won't help."
Mulder knew he was looking at Walter with puppy dog eyes. He said, "We have to get him out."
Walter nodded and then stood up. He stood up and walked into the bathroom slowly as if suddenly grown old. Mulder waited impatiently, but this time he wouldn't run off on his own. His own blood seemed to run hot and cold. He squeezed his fists together to keep the pain away. He had closed his heart; sure that Krycek had betrayed them when Walter's friend told him that Alex had never showed in Thailand. The ticket had never been cashed. It was as if Alex had disappeared into the night.
Walter appeared out of the shower. He looked at Mulder and said, "We can't be sure that he didn't just manipulate us. And he's in serious condition. He might not make it."
Mulder nodded. Walter held out his hand. Mulder took it and Walter squeezed it. Mulder said, "I want to believe he didn't betray us. There haven't been any attempts to blackmail us with the information. He hasn't showed up with Cancerman."
Walter said, "I thought he was dead. I actually thought that man had gotten to him and killed him."
A uniformed police officer was stationed outside the door. He sat slouched in a chair disinterested after a cursory glance at their identification. Mulder saw Walter's scornful look and he would bet the man's supervisor would hear about his lackadaisical attitude.
Krycek looked wan, crumpled, someone's ill-used toy left lying in this hospital bed. Mulder decided that his lover looked like a Borg. He had enough machinery on him to seem part of some alien hybrid. One side of Krycek's head was encased in a heavy bandage.
Scully sat in a chair, leaning on her hand. She must have spent the night there and she looked it, puffy eyed, rumpled, and face washed clean of any trace of make-up.
Mulder went to hug her and said, "Scully, you look so tired. How did you catch him?" He really wanted to ask, "Why did you have to shoot him?"
Scully pushed him away with a grumpily inarticulate sound. She straightened and stretched with a soft moan of protest. Before answering, Scully walked over to the bed and lifted one of Krycek's eyelids, peering it. Then she said, "I didn't catch him. A bum found him in a dumpster two days ago. It looks as if someone who hates him as much as we do caught up with him. He was beaten and then someone shot him. Someone careless enough not to check his or her work. The bullet grazed his skull. Of course head wounds bleed profusely and that may have fooled the shooter."
Walter had picked up the chart. "So there's no brain injury, thank God. Good strong EKG. But he's not regained consciousness?"
Scully stared at Walter thoughtfully. His exclamation had sounded too sincerely grateful. She answered, "Not so much as a wink. And since you two are here. I am dumping this little problem in your laps. I am going to go home, have a nice warm soak, and then I am going to go to bed with a wake up call sometime into next week."
Mulder tried another hug, this one accepted. He watched her go. Walter blocked the door and Mulder went to the bed. He leaned down and kissed Alex on the side of his face that was not swollen from the injury. There was no sign that Alex knew he was here.
Mulder stroked gingerly at the right side of Alex's head, wincing as he accidentally touched the stubbled line of shaven hair that extended a little past the bandage. "Alex, come on, babe. It's Mulder. You're safe." He raised Alex's hand to his face and kissed it. "Wake up, sleeping beauty."
Alex didn't stir. Silently, they changed places. Walter kissed Alex's forehead and cheek. "Where have you been, Alex? Did he find you?"
A groan emerged from the shattered figure on the bed. Mulder saw one
eye slowly open. Alex's hand flailed in the air until Walter caught
it. Alex's voice sounded muffled, as rough as if someone had
sandpapered the inside of his throat. "Punished me. He punished me.
Sold me."
Mulder fought back a sudden heat. He pushed away a mental snapshot of Alex in chains, lifting imploring arms to him.
Walter's hand swallowed Alex's. He leaned closer to their lover. Walter asked, "Who shot you? Was it the Smoker?"
Alex asked, "Where's Mulder? Please, where's Mulder? Did they hurt him? I was at his place because you moved. You moved away and I couldn't find you"
Walter moaned and said, "Shh, Alex, don't cry now. It's all right. Mulder's right here."
Mulder abandoned the door.
Walter didn't go back to guard the entrance. Fuck anyone who couldn't handle their twisted little triangle, Mulder thought. It was wrong for the world, but infinitely right for them. Mulder leaned over the bed, pushed in close to Alex. Alex turned his whole head with another pitiful cry of pain. Mulder grunted in alarm. The left eye wasn't working; he could tell by the way Alex craned his right eye to see him.
Alex said, "Mulder. Bet you thought I ran away or went back to them."
Mulder couldn't lie about it. He said, "I'm sorry. But when we found out that you never got to Thailand..."
Alex said, "He was watching. Right at the airport. Took me back. Oh, Mulder, I feel so sick."
Walter managed to get the small basin under Alex's face in time. Mulder frankly fled, seeking a doctor. Nursing was not his forte.
When Mulder arrived back with a doctor, Alex had lapsed back into sleep. The doctor was a dark skinned man with a heavy Latino accent. South American, Mulder guessed. He examined Alex with deft swiftness and then said, "His vital signs have improved."
Mulder said, "I think he was having trouble seeing out of his left eye. He kept moving his whole head to see me out of the right one."
The doctor said, "It's probably temporary. Still..."
There was nothing objectionable in the way the doctor handled Alex.
He lifted an eyelid gently and beamed his small flashlight into the
pupil. He said, "His eyes are both reactive. You can see that his
eyelid is swollen. I think someone kicked him in the face. He was
beaten before he was shot. There are other injuries. Older ones. It
looks as if he was tortured. I saw his feet. Someone burned him
there. In my country, I treated such things. Which is why I had to
come here. I hoped it would be different."
The heavy lidded dark eyes somberly regarded them. "What will they do with him, your government?"
That was a question that Mulder did not want to consider. And it was not a simple one. Which government? The one that had hired Mulder or the one that had hired Alex?
Walter leaned down to kiss Alex goodbye. After his brief wakening, he had remained asleep but not at rest. He was tormented by nightmares... moaning, crying out, and twitching. Sometimes he calmed when he heard their voices, but at other times, he seemed to think they were suffering beside him. He pleaded with someone unseen to spare them. A heart of stone would have melted hearing that, but Walter grimly reflected that the Smoker probably had neither heart nor soul.
Mulder sat by Alex's side, his long legs stretching half way across the room as he sat slumped in the chair. His hand draped across his elegantly shaped forehead, his hair tawny-dark like a lion's mane in disarray from the nervous sweep of his agile fingers.
Walter explained, "I have to put out a fire or two at the office and I want a look at the police report on Alex's case. Perhaps they missed something. Not that we don't both know who ordered this." __
Back at the office, Walter had to sign an emergency leave for a worried agent whose wife had just given birth to an exceedingly premature baby. An agent in Maryland had pulled a Mulder and Walter had to explain to the local authorities that the erratically behaving young man really was one of his agents.
Walter grimly cleared his desk of the more urgent matters. It galled him to have to pretend like this. But so far, no one had guessed that their interest in Krycek's case was personal unless it was Scully. She had given him one of her famous cool gazes, the ones that made you feel like a microbe on a slide when he had been fervent in his thanks that Alex wasn't brain dead.
Accounting thought they had a crisis, but Walter didn't agree. He didn't consider the budget overdrawn until Ways and Means called him up to testify at a closed hearing. Walter left the office manager waiting in the office and "forgot" to call to say he was going to the precinct until he was in the garage. His beleaguered secretary would have to cover for him.
It had been years since he had reason to visit the precinct. Nothing really had changed except the faces. Well, maybe the accused were younger, but then everyone seemed younger to Walter these days.
An eager young cop ushered him to Major Crimes. Krycek's case was assigned to an Inspector Roberts. Wide-eyed and innocent, the uniformed officer asked, "Is the FBI taking over on this? Was the man kidnapped?"
Walter replied, "Maybe." He doubted it. It was best not to draw any more attention to the crime than already existed. A sad commentary that a man could be nearly killed and dropped in a dumpster and not even make the crime column in any of the local papers.
The pictures in the file made him blink back tears. If he had one prayer other than to see Alex well again, it was to get revenge for this on that man; the man that tried to play them like puppets on a string. The police detective assigned to the case was a tall, lean black woman with close-cropped hair. She had a direct, calculating gaze that seemed to penetrate to his subconscious thoughts.
"We assumed it was botched gangland shooting." Inspector Roberts said. She tapped the picture. "His clothing was expensive although he had no wallet. Just the stub to a plane ticket and a few dollars. After I ran his fingerprints, I was surprised to find that the only record was a sealed FBI employment file. And now the assistant director of the FBI is asking about him."
Walter said, "He worked for me. He was a good agent and I liked him."
"And?" Roberts asked, "What happened? He's twenty-five. Too young for retirement. Was he injured? Did he screw up?"
Walter chose his words carefully, assuming that this woman with her plain face, her intense charcoal black eyes, and her blunt confidence would sense a lie.
"He went to work for another agency." Walter stated. "That's as much as I can tell you."
"Undercover." Roberts mused. "So this may have been a bad move in a spy game."
Walter shrugged. He said, "I'll want a copy of that file."
Roberts didn't argue. She walked out side and found a clerk idling
at the coffee machine. She set the young man to work copying the
file immediately. Walter didn't know if there was anything in there
to help them. Still, Mulder should see it. He often found clues that
the rest of them had missed.
Walter used the excuse of bringing the file to drop by the hospital, hoping that Alex was awake. He needed to see him. Needed to know he was going to be all right.
Entering that room was like entering a deep freeze. Apparently Scully had decided to bring Mulder lunch. The deli bag sat in the middle of the floor. Alex cowered in the bed, very awake and looking quite like an unfledged bird with the ragged remains of his hair standing straight up; his eyes as wide as saucers. Mulder stood between his beloved friend and his lover; his expression indicating that what he really wanted to do was to jump out the window, never mind that they were seven floors up.
"He was kissing Krycek." Scully spat out as soon as she saw Walter. "I can't believe it. The rat bastard helped them kidnap me. He screwed us all over. Oh pardon me, Mulder, I guess I should rephrase that. I suppose it's you who does the screwing."
Alex was wincing at each loud word. He looked helplessly at Walter. His hand reached out and he said, "Walter, please." The hand fell back, trembling on the pale blue bed cover.
"Agent Scully, you will have to leave. As a medical doctor, you should know better. He's just off the critical list." Walter lectured.
"You're on his side too!" Scully snapped. She moved toward Alex. Mulder was frozen in misery; head drooped on his grace note of a neck.
Walter moved swiftly. He didn't really think Scully would hurt Alex, not as helpless as he was in this condition, but still his every instinct moved to protect his frail lover. Scully pulled resentfully away from his grip. She said, "Well, he must be very good lay. You too, Walter?"
Mulder moved to follow her; his face twisted with pain. Scully and Mulder were a symbiotic organism. They didn't always get along, but it was hard to imagine one without the other. Scully whipped around and said, "I don't want to talk about it, Mulder, not right now. But don't worry. I won't betray you."
Mulder didn't have to say what he was feeling. His stricken face showed it all. He swallowed his agony and stumbled from the room. He turned just before leaving and said, "Stay with him, Walter." His voice choked with misery, Mulder said, "Alex, it's not your fault."
Walter's own chest felt tight and his stomach burned acidic with
emotion. He wanted to reason with Scully, to comfort Mulder, but he
couldn't leave Alex alone. He straightened his spine, squared his
shoulders, and crossed the room to the wounded man's side. Alex had
covered his face with his arm. He cried silently, only the trail
wetly gleaming down his face betraying him. Walter wanted to hold
him as much to reassure himself as to help Alex, but the festooned
IV's and that wad of bandages prevented him from giving in to his
feelings.
Walter laid his hand over Alex's and said, "Alex, don't worry. They'll work it out. They always do."
Alex said, voice still rasping, "Mulder will be angry with me. I shouldn't have let him kiss me."
Walter leaned down and sought the dry lips. "Kissing you is a privilege, Alex, a pleasure that I have missed every day since I last saw you."
Alex's mouth softened. His tongue tickled out to taste Walter's. Kissing Alex. Kissing him was bliss, a pleasure so sharp and distinct that it edged toward pain. It made the blood rush in his veins like vodka, like fire. Walter's hand cupped the back of Alex's head, brushed the bandages. He sighed, reminded that his lover was in no shape for this. Walter sat down heavily, exhausted and confused. He remembered though, reaching over to link Alex's hand in his. He felt the gentle squeeze and returned it.
Mulder was gone two hours. The afternoon drizzle must have become a downpour. He was soaked. His hair looked black from the drenching. His wet clothing clung to him limply. He dripped. Walter shook his head and said, "Mulder, get a towel. What the hell did you do?"
Little boy truculence. Mulder mumbled, "I went running."
Walter looked at Mulder's dress shoes and said, "Yes, and your feet are going to raise blisters on your blisters."
Mulder shrugged and went into the bathroom. When he came out, a little drier, he said, "I feel better now. I'm going to call Scully."
Mulder ran a hand though his hair, further maddening the wayward locks. He pulled out the phone, but came over to the bed and sat on it before calling Scully. He leaned down to kiss Alex. "I'm sorry for running out on you that way. It wasn't your fault. I should have told her what happened. But I wasn't sure, Alex. Didn't know if you were coming back."
Alex nodded and his hand rested on Mulder's face. "I wanted to come
back, Mulder, but they wouldn't let me. I was with you all the
time." He touched his head and said, "In here. I just hid inside
myself and waited for a chance. Talk to Scully. If she loves you as
much as I do, she'll forgive you."
Mulder sprawled back in the chair, his mouth tightly drawn as if the rift with Scully was a physical pain as well as an emotional one. He picked up the phone, autodialed Scully's number at work. He winced a moment later and snapped the phone shut. "She hung up on me."
Walter said, "Give it some time."
Being AD had its privileges. No one sent them from Alex's room. Around midnight, Scully returned. Alex was awake. Walter was feeding him chips of ice. Mulder was brooding, wrapped up in his own thoughts. They all looked at Scully.
Scully walked over and said, "When did this start? I mean, I knew about you and Mulder, Walter. I'm not an idiot. I know you both too well." She cast her sharp gaze on Alex and she shook her head, her lips pursing in that swift prim rejection that had always warned Walter not to move on his admiration of this lovely and strong woman. "At least, I thought that I did."
Mulder appeared to be trying to dissolve into the chair. Walter carefully put down the glass and said, "Mulder and I ran into Alex in Washington State. That conference we attended in Seattle."
Scully glared at Alex and said, "So you run into this rogue agent, this man who helped them kidnap me, and nearly got you killed, and he was just so pretty that you both had to fuck him?"
Alex frowned at that. Walter had a hand on his lover's leg. It twitched and Walter rubbed it. Scully's eyes caught the action and she grimaced. She said, "Mulder, I never put much past him. Vampires. Beast woman. Porno fantasies. But, you, sir. I expected better of you."
Walter winced. Now how many times had he heard that? His mother, his father, teachers? What did they think he was? Some marble monument come to life? He was just a man, with weaknesses and flaws. All of which, the Smoking Man seemed to find with his leech-like like ways.
Walter said, "Scully, you don't plan whom you love. It just happens. And it wasn't the way that you implied. Alex and I...when Sharon and I separated, it wasn't easy on me. I felt like a failure. There were things in my personal life and my professional one that you wouldn't understand. I would never ever want you to be in a position where you could understand. Alex was tailor-made to make me feel alive again. Maybe that was someone else's plan. But it didn't go the way they expected."
Alex reached for him, grasped his hand. He said, "Because I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you. He thought there was nothing left in me, but he was wrong."
Walter felt a wave of tenderness that rolled through him with physical sensation. He said, "He was very wrong, Alex."
Mulder had finally decided to face his beloved partner. He unfolded from the chair. Mulder said, "Scully, do you remember anything from when you were taken?"
Scully shook her head. Mulder said, "Alex got you out, Scully. They were done with you. They thought that I was broken. That's the only reason they took you. To break me. But you see, they are practical men. Why not use you for the tests as long as they had you? Alex got you out before they killed you."
Scully's hand twitched and she stepped forward, her heels briskly clacking. Walter stood up again. She said, "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not going to hurt him. But you both know he's a liar."
Walter moved aside the blankets. Alex shivered. The thin gown had ridden up, exposing his roundly muscled thighs nearly to his groin. Walter smoothed it down to give Alex some slight modesty. He moved to the end of the bed, holding up Alex's tortured foot. He had thought the doctor was talking about the damage he and Mulder had seen before, but this was infinitely worse. That sick bastard!
Scully's eyes widened. She said, "My God."
Walter said, "Alex tried to run after you were kidnapped. Those men hunted for him. Found him. Punished him."
Alex jerked his foot from Walter's hands. "That's ugly." He exclaimed. "I hate being scarred. I hate remembering."
Walter soothed the foot and said, "Alex, all of you is beautiful. These are your badges of courage." He covered Alex and smoothed the blanket over him.
Alex smiled a little at Walter's words. He said, "If I had been brave, I would never have left."
Walter said, "He would have killed you. Killed Mulder."
Alex said, "No, he said that Mulder was important. I don't know what he means. He just tells everyone not to kill him. You and Scully, you're expendable. Mulder isn't."
Scully's curiosity was overcoming her antipathy. Scully asked, "Krycek, who is he? Whom do you work for?"
Walter saw Alex struggling with his memories. For a moment, the old Alex shone shrewdly from the shattered eyes. He said, "Christ, Scully, do you think a man like that is going to be listed in a phone book? Anything I tell you is like signing a death warrant for you. I only know enough to get you in trouble, not to help you."
"That's convenient." Scully said. "I haven't fucked you. So forgive me, I'm immune to your charms. You're a liar, a traitor, a coward."
Alex was shaking. Mulder said, "That's enough, Scully."
Scully said, "Why Mulder? Why can't I ask the questions for once?"
Mulder shot her a sullen look and commented, "As if you didn't from the first day."
Scully's voice took on her crisp interrogational tone. She asked, "Krycek, why would you help me? Just tell me that."
Alex looked at her and said, "For Mulder and because..." He tried to shrug and winced instead, lifting a hand to his head.
Scully moved closer. She asked, "What's the other reason?"
Alex turned away, face trying to burrow into the meager excuse for a pillow. Walter didn't think he would answer, but finally he said, "Because you asked me. Because you thought I was Agent Krycek and I had come to help you. That's why." His voice eroded to a whisper. "My head hurts." He said.
Walter said, "All right, that's enough. Mulder, you and Scully go some place to talk. Alex needs to rest."
The nurse, a quiet mouse of a woman, appeared almost as soon as Walter had rung the buzzer. He watched her carefully; knowing that her dun brown hair, her faded colored eyes, and slump shouldered posture could be the disguise for some deadly thing. However, the medication looked the same as before and Alex merely murmured something fretful and drowsy before closing his eyes.
Asleep, Alex was an unhappy child. The small wrinkle above his nose furrowed. His right hand, the one unfettered by an IV tube curled snugly against his cheek. His petulant rosebud of a mouth gaped and his white teeth gleamed from within. Walter settled back in the more comfortable of the two chairs, determined to watch over his lover, despite the grogginess that seemed to press on him, smothering him toward sleep.
Noise woke him. A subtle movement, a rasp of clothing, and Walter was alert. He kept his breathing even as he prepared. The intruder hesitated as the clanking of a metal cart sounded from near the door. Walter calculated the distance and lunged. The flash of light and the percussion arrived almost simultaneously. Rage rose in him, mindless rage, a berserk untrained purposefulness such as had overtaken him in Vietnam, earning him a purple heart, a bronze star, and a gut wound that landed him briefly in a body bag.
The rush of footsteps shook him from his vengeful intentions. Walter squared off at the reinforcements, his gun aimed steadily at mid-chest. The stout cop that had been on duty outside yelped, "Take it easy, man. All I did was go to grab a piss. The nurse's aid said he would keep an eye on things for me. He brought me coffee. He's a good guy..."
Walter shoved his opponent's gun into view. Walter swallowed his rage and said, "I bet he brought you several cups of coffee."
"You going to report this?" The ruddy-faced man asked unhappily.
"In great detail." Walter replied. He edged back toward the bed.
Alex was awake. The gunshot had penetrated his drugged slumber and his formerly pale face was now snow white. The pupils of his eyes were huge with shock and fear. Walter moved as close as he dared, unable to comfort his lover and raging inside because of that.
Scully forgave him. Would she always? And yet, Mulder mulled. It was one of those riddles. The chicken or the egg? If Alex had saved her because he loved Mulder, did that leave anything for her to forgive? Yet if she had not been Mulder's partner, his mainstay, the Watson to his Holmes, she would not have been abducted at all.
Scully leaned on the elevator wall as they returned from a ragged edged conversation over bad McDonald's coffee and sweet rolls that neither had finished. She had taken a moment to put on her armor, makeup smoothing her complexion, glossing her lips, shadowing her eyes. Pretty woman. Pretty mask. Soft feminine guise to cover a steely mind and a resolution less vagrant than his.
"How do you know you love him?" she asked in a tone that asked for the chemical formula, the greater than or less than of his passion.
Mulder laughed, pretending that she was joking. "Well, Scully, how does anyone know they love someone?"
"Damned if I know." She replied and Mulder saw that she wasn't joking at all.
Mulder shook his head and said, "When Alex isn't around, I feel like something's missing. An Alex sized hollow inside of me."
"It makes no sense to me." Scully said as the elevator lurched to a stop. "You need someone more logical than you...not that most people wouldn't qualify in that respect. Someone such as..."
Mulder winced, sure that she was going to say like herself and paint another layer on their already confusing relationship. Scully's lip twitched in that pretty flicker of a smile. She finished, "Such as Walter."
Mulder said, "Yeah, well, there's that. I love him too, I guess, but when it's the three of us, there's no guessing."
Mulder stiffened as he caught sight of the activity outside of Alex's room. Heart imploding like a black hole.
"Get the fuck out of my way," Mulder snarled, his ID waved at a cop. "FBI!"
Walter poked his head out and said, "That's my agent. My agents, I mean, let them in."
Two hefty nurse's aides were moving Alex onto a gurney. Mulder asked anxiously, "What's going on? Where are they taking him?"
Walter replied, "To a different room. There was an assassination attempt."
In the new room, Scully shouldered the doctor aside. She said, "I'm taking over. Dana Scully, MD. She flipped open her ID and showed the doctor her board certification.
The doctor scowled, "A pathologist? You're a little premature."
Scully replied, "Not much premature if I leave his care with the staff here. One attempt is quite enough."
Scully was surprisingly gentle, considering the brisk fashion that she used to treat Mulder's frequent injuries. She reconnected the IV's and stood, holding Alex's wrist, checking his pulse.
Alex stared at her bemusedly. "Scully?"
Scully answered, "Since it appears the two men I care about are in love with you, I'll put my own feelings aside. Alex, tomorrow you are going to take a turn for the worse. In fact, you are going to die."
Alex laughed softly and said, "Deja vu. That's how I got you out."
"Scully." Mulder said in that seductive caress of a tone Walter heard him use only for her.
Scully snapped, "Don't make any mistake about this. I'm only doing this because I love you, Mulder. That doesn't mean that I like any of you." Scully shot a resentful gaze at the three of them. Walter didn't blame her. He knew she felt betrayed.
Scully said, "You can take him to my Aunt May's house. She died a year ago and left the house to Melissa and I."
Scully looked back at Alex and complained, "I can't believe I'm doing this."
Alex was sensible enough not to try to thank her. He was limp from pain and stress. A tremor shook his hands as they curled outside the blanket. Walter patted him and said, "It's going to be okay. We won't let them take you."
Alex dug his fingers into the bedding. Was it still warm from Walter's body? He had made a fool out of himself again when Scully told his lovers to leave. He had clung to Walter like a drowning man to the hope of salvation. Had hid his face in the solid, warm reality of Walter's chest, feeling Mulder's hands rubbing his back. 'Don't take this from me' he prayed, fearful of the demons that still howled at his heels. 'Let me stay right here in this secure harbor'.
Walter's hands soothed him and lay him down, his stronger will overwhelming the nebulous fabric of Alex's sense of self. "You'll be all right." He promised, but he had said that before. Out of sight, was out of mind, was gone. They left him with Scully, who walked toward him with a bright shining needle. Alex huddled deeper, his body remembering that fetal curve, that knot of fleshly defiance to keep the Smoker away.
And remembered hands and laughter as they wrenched his limbs open as if he were no more than an infant. He caught Scully's hand as she leaned close and said, "They turned me inside out."
Scully's face would have been funny if Alex hadn't mislaid his humor somewhere along the way. "Krycek, settle down. This will only make you sleep."
Sleep? Alex knew about that. Hours and hours beneath the bright lights, white...white...white room. "He wouldn't let me sleep. Sleep burns. Keep your eyes open, Alex. Look at me."
Alex fearfully gazed around the room. Where was he? The smoke made Spender gray. Years and years of molecule by molecule replacement, an osmosis of smoke to make the man what he was; no longer flesh and blood, an empty creature of sulfurous stench. Nosferatu, devourer of souls. Alex thought he saw something move and said, "No, he's here. I can't go to sleep until he lets me. Scully, do you want him to punish you too?"
Scully's eyes were different. She had water in her eyes. Her hand trembled as she patted him. "No-one's here, Krycek. He's not in the room." But Alex saw her blue eyes glance here and there, peer into the shadows just as he did.
The pretty, pretty mask crumpled and she said, "I can't do this. What the hell am I remembering?"
Alex saw her struggling. He whispered, "I'm sorry, Scully. I didn't mean to bring it back. I wish I could forget."
Scully turned her face away. She wiped her eyes with a sharp stab of a movement and then briskly injected the medicine into Alex.
Alex fought it. He resisted the inert pull of the medicine, the sleep that held no safety for him. His eyes dragged on the spars of slumber. He yielded for a moment then woke with a start.
"Jesus, Krycek, just go to sleep." Scully snapped. "What's wrong with you?"
Alex replied, "I'm scared, Scully, so scared."
Scully said, "No one's going to hurt you. You want to see Walter, don't you?"
Alex nodded although it made him feel as if his neck was wobbling, his head about to roll from its unsteady perch. "Mulder too," he whispered. "Mulder."
Scully glowered her disapprobation. Her pale complexion seemed marble-like in the bilious hospital lights and made her seem one of the Fates.
"Atropos cuts the thread." Alex murmured.
Scully exhaled in a descending scale. "Krycek, why me? What did I do to deserve this? First Mulder and now you. Just go to sleep."
Alex reached out to take her hand, to touch someone on the way down. She started to pull away and then relented. Her hand felt small in his, but her grip was firm. Alex blinked a last time and let the darkness take him.
Scully groused to herself, "If the medical ethics board gets a hold of this, they'll rescind my license."
Scully shook her head, but after one last wince; she signed the death certificate. The machinery of the hospital slid smoothly into place. Supposedly, Scully would do the autopsy. Mulder's friends, Byers, Frohike and Langley had bribed someone to allow them to use a funeral home station wagon. It belonged to a friend of theirs. Scully shuddered as she contemplated reasons why the strange triad would cultivate the acquaintance of someone who worked in a mortuary. She helped them slide Krycek's body into a body bag and then onto a gurney.
Frohike asked, "Are you sure he isn't dead? He sure feels dead."
Scully said, "Of course he isn't dead. I know what I'm doing." She checked the pulse, very faint, but that was expected given the combination of drugs that she had used. She said, "Hurry up now."
Frohike said, "Well, this is even weirder than the usual stuff that Mulder is involved in."
Scully rolled her eyes and raised her eyebrows. Sometimes she thought that her brows would simply rise up and be stuck in their disbelieving and exasperated arch. And it would all be Mulder's fault too.
Mulder checked his watch. By this time, the Lone Gunmen should be here. Forty-five minutes ago, Scully should have escorted a mannequin stuffed body bag into her autopsy bay. Of course, Frohike, dramatist as he was, had offered to provide a real body to substitute for Alex. Mulder had politely declined. Mulder looked around. The underground parking lot at this hospital was quiet at this hour. Most of the possible visitors were at work, the new patients had been admitted hours ago, and the lucky ones being discharged had gone home.
The Gunmen liked complicated plots. They had driven the ambulance into a tunnel; one of the ones that seemed built as fish traps for cars rather than to actually aid them in getting from one place to another. Byers waited in line with all the other jammed vehicles. Easy enough for Frohike and Alex to climb into his car, leaving Langley to drive the mortuary vehicle back. When they finally moved out of the tunnel, Frohike had called saying, "Package was transferred."
Walter stepped out and put an arm briefly around Mulder. "He'll be
here soon."
Mulder nodded and leaned back for a moment; that was Walter strong, solid, a shelter in moments like this. Mulder closed his eyes. Warm. Safe. Sane. No wonder his heart always craved Alex even when he lay happily satiated in Walter's bed. Like a humming bird, Mulder only wanted a moment of stability. He was a creature of fire and air.
Walter tightened his grip for a moment. Mulder wriggled free. He asked, "What are we going to do with him? I mean, when he is well enough to travel. Will your friend in Thailand still hire him?"
Walter said, "Probably, but that's not the best plan. We should assume that Alex told the Smoker about Tony."
Mulder said, "I suppose I could see if the guys can come up with something."
Mulder saw Byers in the front seat of a Volvo. 'Hmm, wonder where they borrowed that one from? Some yuppie friend of John's?' As they came closer, Frohike's head popped up, but Alex wasn't visible.
Mulder and Walter moved as one. Anxiously, Mulder pulled the door open. Alex lay huddled in the farthest corner from the Gunmen. Walter went around to help their lover out.
Mulder said, "Thanks, guys."
Frohike asked, "You sure you don't need help interrogating him? There are some things I just read about that I'm dying to try."
Mulder shook his head, watching Walter settle Alex into the car. Alex sleepily moved to lay his head on Walter's shoulder. "My head hurts." Alex complained, "And I feel sick."
Walter said, "I know Alex. You'll feel better soon. I promise."
Frohike's eyes widened and he said, "Uh, do I sense something wrong with this scene?"
Mulder just met the man's eyes. Frohike stammered, "Hey, well, that's cool with me. I mean he's pretty and all. Does this mean that I can have Scully?"
Mulder laughed and said, "Don't you think that you should take that up with Scully?"
Frohike said, "Hey, just wanted to make sure it was cool with you."
Mulder nodded, eager to get Alex settled in a bed. He said, "Thanks, Frohike, I appreciate it." He said, "The field is clear for you, sir. I have other interests."
Frohike glanced at Alex again and said, "Okay, you need anything else...if he needs a forged identity or anything, we're on call."
Mulder smiled and said, "As a matter of fact, he will need one. But be careful. The men from whom Alex is running are very clever and dangerous."
Mulder exchanged places with Walter, smiling as Alex curled around him, resting his face cheek to cheek so sweetly. "Where are we going?" Alex asked.
"A little cabin in the country." Mulder replied. "Some place safe."
"Safe?" Alex questioned, "Is any place safe?" He burrowed deeper into Mulder's side though and went to sleep.
A bump in the road woke Alex. He peered out seeing trees, an irrigation ditch, a worried band of quail scattering into the overgrown weeds. Mulder stretched as Alex sat up. His arm had probably gone to sleep from Alex's weight leaned on it.
Mulder said, "There's the place."
You wouldn't exactly call it a cabin, Alex thought. It was just a house, a small, simple place that sat on a secluded road, apple orchards framing it on three sides. The wide porch had a swing and empty planting boxes, a black mailbox with a curlicue flourish underneath for magazines, and the remains of a hanging planter. A strawberry pot still held a withered brown ghost of its former occupant.
Inside, the walls were papered in flowered designs. The house had a patina of love, of grubby, chubby toddler hands, scrubbed spots that remembered the misled efforts of budding young artists. Alex liked it instantly. He wished he didn't feel so tired and ill so he could just sit for a while in the sunny living room. "It's nice." He said. "It feels happy. Like someone was happy here."
Walter said, "It belonged to Scully's aunt. She was a foster parent, Scully said. Took care of a lot of children here. Come on, love. Up the stairs. Time for you to go back to bed."
Alex argued, "I'm tired of bed...I don't think I can sleep." A yawn betrayed him and Walter smiled at him.
Walter said, "I'm going to go out for groceries. Chicken soup for lunch."
Alex settled in the bed, but caught at Mulder's hand. "I'll sleep if
you lie down with me."
Walter said, "But sleep is the word, Alex. Right, Mulder?"
Mulder grumbled, "As if I was that greedy."
Alex waited until Mulder slid under the covers. Even though his eyelids were leaden, Alex fought sleep. He traced Mulder's face, mapping his beloved features with tender tentative touch. "Kiss me and I'll go to sleep." He bargained.
Mulder smiled, a quick crooked show of teeth. A wry smile. A Mulder smile. Alex traced his lover's mouth. In hindsight, every gesture, every expression of his lover's had been precious. When he had curled, wracked with pain in whatever dark, cold hole that his puppet master chose, Alex had taken those memories out, examining them, cherishing them, reliving them in his mind. They had kept him alive, saved his sanity as much as possible. They saved him from utter loss of his self.
Mulder kissed his hands, took his fingers in his mouth for a moment to suck on them. Alex said, "I want you."
Mulder chuckled and said, "Walter would have both our hides and, what ever was left, Scully would make a change purse out of. Go to sleep. You promised."
Alex said, "You won't leave me?"
Mulder wrapped his arms around Alex and replied, "Got you right here."
Mulder woke. He heard something. Never a heavy sleeper, this latest trial had made his slumber a mere taste of sleep. He felt at his side. Alex was out of bed. He heard a harsh sob. Walking in the bathroom, he heard a thump. Alex stood in front of a full-length mirror that was mounted on the door of the linen closet. His hand drew back to strike the surface again. Mulder caught it and caught Alex's waist with his other arm. "What's wrong, lover?"
Alex gestured to the desecration of his hair, the mound of bandage covering the side of his head. Alex was dressed in the way Mulder liked best, nude, natural beauty his only cloak. Anything more was gilding the lily.
Mulder found the place he liked to stroke where a few sleek hairs led his fingers lower. Where the firm muscles momentarily softened to a faint curve that marked the join of belly and groin. The skin was so soft and the v of hair led him down to the otter pelt of pubic hair. Mulder petted Alex there, enjoying the sudden arch backwards, the sharp intake of breath.
Still, grimacing at his reflection, Alex said, "They massacred my hair. And I look like a stand-in for the mummy."
Mulder snuggled his nose into Alex's neck. He moved slightly to suckle the lobe of Alex's ear. He nipped the ear then tongued the piercing, remembering his surprise the day he noticed that little clue that stuffy Agent Krycek hid someone else much less conventional. "Alex, don't be silly. It'll grow back. You look rakish. A prince of the desert with a turban. Come on. Let me take you back to bed."
Alex leaned against him. He said, "No, I want a bath. You can help me."
Mulder felt Alex's cock stir beneath his hand. He surrounded it, stroking its quivering heat. "Okay, even Scully can't object to a little cleanliness. As long as we keep the bandages dry."
Whatever had happened to Alex since they parted, his body was well tended. He had been thin when they saw each other last, but now his body had lost the last vestige of his juvenile gawkiness. He was solid with muscle, toned with that even sculptured development that seldom happens except by frequent visits to a gym. Mulder explored the silken structure of Alex's body with a thrill of possession. The droplets of water and the slick of soap burnished the sheen of his flesh.
Mulder groaned and said, "You look so fucking hot. What the hell have you been doing? Competing at muscle beach?"
Alex blushed and said, "You don't like it? Mistress liked me this way. Beautiful and fit just like the show dogs in her kennel. I think she wished she could have had me compete for her too. Put a blue ribbon in her trophy case."
Mulder frowned. What the hell was he talking about? Mulder said, "What do you mean, Mistress? You were with a woman? A lover?"
Alex looked at him oddly and said, "Not a lover, Mulder. I only have two lovers. She was someone that owned me. First Master owned me, but the rebels killed him. Then Mistress bought me and brought me back here. But she died and I ran away. I wanted to come home to you and Walter."
Alex sounded like a sleepy child. Mulder finished washing him and put him to bed. He heard a car pull up and went to glance out the window. It was Walter. He stopped the Taurus and reached in to get bags. Mulder said, "It's just Walter. You rest a bit until lunch is ready."
Mulder dashed down the steps and made for the back seat. "Did you get ice cream? Alex likes ice cream. I hoped you were careful and made sure you weren't followed."
Skinner gave him an owlish look and said, "Unlike you, Mr. Toad, when I engage in acts of subterfuge they stay covert operations. No, I was not followed and I am sure."
Now after all, having had a little sleep, Mulder was hungry. He eagerly unpacked the contents of the brown paper sacks until he was left puzzled. There were no cans. Walter had said that he would make soup for lunch. There was raw chicken, boned and skinless, celery, carrots, and the biggest green onion he had ever seen. Mulder brandished this item and asked, "Didn't I see this in 'Sleepers'? Growing next to the giant bananas? This is the most God-awful big green onion that I ever saw. What's it for? The relish tray of the Gods?"
"It's a leek, Mulder. And stop right there. I can see the joke before it's out of the gate. Wash up. You can chop the vegetables while I season the chicken."
From scratch...Walter was making soup from the raw parts. "Campbell's would be quicker." Mulder mumbled as he set about his chore.
"Right." Walter said, "And hardly worth the moment it takes to warm it. Chop, Mulder, finely chop the leek and thin slice the carrot. I can have the soup on the table in half an hour with your help."
Alex called out as the soup bubbled on the stove. "I want to get up." He said. "Walter, can I come downstairs? That soup smells so good."
Alex's sigh of contentment sounded like a cat's purr. He snuggled in the royal blue quilt. Mulder had washed the few dishes, pushed to this extreme by his boss and lover who was suddenly a tyrant. Strange to realize it, but Mulder had seldom seen Walter cook. Of course, sometimes he arrived to a nicely laid out meal, but mostly he was just buzzed in late to tumble around on the big comfortable bed in Skinner's apartment, leaving before morning brought the eyes of observant neighbors.
It was a new side of his lover and Mulder was not quite sure if he liked it. Alex's diminutive nose sniffed the air like a little pink rat nose as the odors of cooking enticed him. "It smells so good." Alex said. "It reminds me of my mother. She used to cook vats of chicken soup when I was sick. With lovely dumplings bobbing on top. Walter, are you making dumplings?"
Walter bowed and said, "As you wish." He took down another bowl and started a frenzy of flour flying through the kitchen.
Alex said, "I must be dreaming. Hey, Mulder, look. There are ripe apples on that tree!"
Mulder couldn't tell, but he knew Alex had wonderful eyesight. He
said, "Want one? I'll get you one."
"Bring me a golden one." Alex pleaded.
Golden apples, well, Mulder thought. If this were Greek mythology, this might not be so easy.
The ladder rungs had almost all broken. Mulder boosted up the remaining step, caught a roughly barked branch and studied the fruit until he spotted three perfect globes. He almost fell reaching for the last one, but caught himself in time. The crisp air smelled of sweet ripe fruit. Everything was somnolent. The buzz of bees the only industrious note in the quiet. Mulder loved autumn days like this. When the sun would warm you until you felt as if your bones were melting after the cold tang of the morning passed. It was a time for resting and regrouping before the long hard winter ahead.
Mulder washed his loot and threw one in a lazy spin to Walter who caught it in his catcher's mitt of a hand. Alex and he would share an apple, he decided. This one, the biggest, the roundest, looking as succulent a fruit as any from Olympus. He presented it grandly with a bow and said, "For the fairest."
Alex said, "Mulder, you know, I just love you."
Wiggling in to sit behind his lover, Mulder replied, "I know" and fed him slivers of apple, the perfectly ripe sweetness like catching and savoring a perfect moment of time.
Scully arrived after lunch the next day. She said, her mouth a grim line, "I was followed."
Walter leapt up, intending to gather his lovers and run. Scully shook her head and said, "I lost them at the mall. You own me three bags of clothes and one of cosmetics. I had to do something to pass the time. The men had fallen asleep. Apparently not the kind that enjoys watching a woman shop. I doubled back so many times I met myself both coming and going. Now, Alex, let me have a look at that head."
Walter noticed Mulder edge away. had a strong stomach. He looked closely at the wound. A degree of variance and he would have had that bullet in his skull. As it was, the stitches were neat and he was healing well. Alex's strange luck had held. It was if his mother, like that of Achilles, had made a perverse bargain to try to save her child. Alex seemed able to live through anything, but not without scars. Hardly unscathed in body or soul. Alex jerked away as Scully painted the wound with antiseptic.
"Hold still." She said. "You're as bad as Mulder, Alex."
Walter grinned. She was slipping, using Alex's first name. Walter patted Alex's arm and asked, "Do you have to put all those bandages on again?"
"No, I'm just going to use a small one to protect the wound." Scully replied, briskly applying one as she spoke.
Alex said, "I feel pretty good now. I was wondering if it was okay if I did a little more. Walter said I shouldn't be too active until you said that I was better."
Scully asked, "Are you better? Any dizziness? Headaches?"
Alex said, "No dizziness since before I left the hospital. And just a little headache every once in a while. I'm good."
Scully said, "Then you should be okay." Her blue eyes traveled from Alex to Mulder peering around the kitchen to see if they were done and back to Walter. She slowly said, "No marathons...if you all understand what I mean."
Walter thought that he had clocked in his last blush at precisely O-nine-hundred-hours at a place called Lil's in Saigon after he found out what his unit had bought him for his nineteenth birthday. But Scully's blue-eyed scrutiny was the resurrection and the life to his modesty. He was scarlet, crimson, red as a ruby, hot as a welding torch. Mulder laughed and said, "You know, we could use your ears for landing lights, Walter. Easy, big guy. Scully's mostly harmless. She's just a straight shooter."
Scully smiled and said, "Now, I'm going to wash up. I smell something cooked here. Is there any left?"
Walter willingly, very willingly got up to warm the lasagna. Scully and Mulder might trade barbs about their sex life, but the few years of age difference may as well have been fifty years. Walter's generation did not discuss sex with the opposite gender...at least not out of bed.
Scully spent the afternoon. It was surprisingly idyllic. Just a family unit of four adults. Four survivors. Walter watched his lovers. Mulder pleased that Scully had accepted his beloved. Alex so eager to be accepted by Scully.
As for Walter, he knew he loved each of the others. Mulder like something wild he had captured and partially tamed. Something, which craved his touch while looking though hooded eyes at the sky that called him.
Alex, however, was like a feral dog that had dim memories of being loved before he was cast out, kicked, and starved. Always looking for safe harbor even as he snapped and growled in fear.
And Scully, Scully was like a beloved sister. Exasperated yet loving. Finding Walter's attempts to keep them safe by his silences and compromises to be misguided. And Mulder, whom she loved, but had the good sense not to love too much.
Walter took Scully out to walk in the apple orchards. She looked lovely in this setting with the sun in her hair and the red-gold highlights echoed from the trees. Walter reached up, piling the basket Scully held high with Apples, Jonagolds, Mackintoshes, Winesaps, and older varieties that he had never known existed.
"This is a Golden Russet for cider. My aunt used to press her own and take it to the farmer's market." Scully explained, holding up a humble little apple. These aren't that good to eat, but great for pie." She laughed and said, "Not that you and Mulder are apple pie types. You surprised me though. Mulder...the more wrong for him the better. That's what I think. I thought you were more cautious, Walter."
Walter replied, "You don't really know me, Scully. I wasn't born behind that desk. At one time I was considered as unconventional as Mulder." Walter laughed and said, "Why else would I put up with him?"
The basket piled high; Scully was ready to go. She said, "I'll see you later. Oh, the guys said they're onto something for Krycek. I'll tell you tomorrow."
Mulder and Alex had disappeared by the time that Walter had seen Scully off. So much for being a gentleman. He yelled, "Alex, Mulder?"
"Up here," panted Mulder. A laugh, breathless rippling, richly dark with passion. "Way up here."
Walter took the steps two at a time, shedding his sweater halfway up, shoes at the top of the stair, and lastly jeans outside the door. He arrived wearing just his shorts to find both of his lovers sitting demurely in bed. Alex said nothing, but his eyes danced, the last of the dull dead look vanished. Mulder grinned and pulled the blankets down to chest level, Alex's firm stomach, his own slightly softer and dusted with oddly golden hairs. Lower still, Alex's uncut cock-head emerging rampant and eager from its shield of flesh. Mulder's surprisingly large and deep purple already.
Mulder said, "Did you really think we would start without you? C'mere. Get in here." Mulder's voice was a throaty invocation that tugged Walter like gravity to the bed.
Walter tugged down his shorts. He should have worn boxers. He winced as the briefs snagged on his eager cock. "Damn." He exclaimed. "Double damn." He added as Alex leaned forward, his pinkly prehensile tongue playing over his mouth.
Pounced. The two of them were like a pair of cats, rough tongued, claws just playfully poking. Walter was the willing prey. Lost in the verdant depths of Alex's eyes. The face like a mask, a beauty ageless and timeless. Gently Walter slid his hand around Alex's neck and guided him down to delight in his kiss, to share one breath, one soul. He could feel Mulder's mouth moving on him and devouring him. Shuddering, Walter anchored himself to Alex. Nothing else was ever like this, nothing that took him raw and aching, his shell, and his reserve surrendered joyously.
It was just flesh. It was just sex. So easy to try to diminish this. Three male bodies sucking, nibbling, evoking shivers and moans. No top, no bottom, complete. When they made love they were whole. And to the last sigh, so beautiful. So beautiful. Hardly mattered who said it, who did what to which lover. Until finally Alex cried, his tears spilling as he murmured their names.
"I don't want to leave this time. Let me stay. If they kill me, it doesn't matter. Not really. I'd die apart from you. I'd be empty. Let me stay." Alex pled.
"We'll see." Walter said, an empty promise. Where was there a safe place? And there was Mulder's crusade. Much as Walter would have liked to flee. To Tony's, to Antarctica or Tierra del Fuego, to any remote place. Yet he protected Mulder. Not always or even nearly as often as he wished, but he did stand as a shield. His compromises, bitter bile rising, his visits from that gray man, that banal man in an ill-fitting suit. Evil that hardly bothered to be seductive or glamorous or even clever. Just a man standing, his eyes amused as if Skinner was a bug struggling on a pin. Not very heroic, Walter thought, but they also served who stood in the way of juggernaut and allowed the hero to escape.
Mulder's eyes, not walled for once by his humor, his quick conversion of grief to anger, met Walter's. They moved as one, shielding Alex from the cold night air. If they could shield him forever...if they could but do that.
'Where the hell was Scully?' Mulder thought. He wanted to go back to bed with his lovers. Soon, too soon, they would need to make plans. They would need to part and to complete what they had started months ago. Alex was the most vulnerable. Mulder knew that the Smoker saw him as a king piece although why remained a riddle. Walter was a useful knight, a chessman useful for an odd maneuver or two. Alex, however, was a pawn, as far as the Smoker was concerned, he had outlived his usefulness and now just cluttered the board and got in the way.
Only pride made the man go after Alex the last time, but the second weakness the man had was hubris. And Alex had hurt his pride, defied him and fooled him, grabbed his prey from his claws before he was done playing the life out of her. Mulder didn't know the Smoker, but he understood him well. He was not a man who would accept defeat nor let defiance go unpunished. He might have been done with Alex, but he would not allow the pretty toy to be taken by another.
Mulder winced. He sometimes saw himself in that evil man. Saw the ruthlessness in face of a mission. It frightened him. He never wanted to wake up some day and find himself a spider caught in his own web.
Mulder found Walter reading to Alex, enjoying the golden light that lazed through the window as they sprawled together on the couch. Walter's voice perfect for reading poetry as easily adapted to commanding men, read:
My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still,
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.
I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight
I got from looking through a pane of glass
I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough
And held against the world of hoary grass.
It melted, and I let it fall and break.
But I was well
Upon my way to sleep before it fell,
And I could tell
What form my dreaming was about to take.
Alex yawned and smiled, green eyes gilded in the flattering light. He was happy. Sleekly content in their lover's arm. Mulder went to push them both over a bit and make room for his own lanky body. He leaned back on Walter, bent Alex's head towards him for a kiss. "Scully's late." He announced. "And her phone is off. I left a message on her voice mail."
Alex said, "You should go and have a look. Both of you. I'll be safe here for a little while. I'll take a nap. Store up some energy for later. Go on."
It was a good idea, although Mulder was uneasy about leaving Alex unattended even for a little while. Still, it seemed reasonable. This was a remote patch of road. It was bumpy and the surface was slick with fallen leaves and with the residue of the morning frost. Scully might have found trouble.
They didn't find her and drove into the city. Her car was parked in her usual spot. Mulder frowned and said, "I suppose she could have forgotten." Right, Scully always knew the time of day, never absent-mindedly forgot appointments. He knocked on the door and heard a familiar voice say, "Come in, gentlemen."
No fool, the Smoker had accessorized himself with wall-to-wall
thugs. They ranged like a jackal pack, assessing weakness, waiting
to attack at any show of weakness. Their eyes were all as
expressionless and empty in a deadly threatening way as the muzzles
of their steely guns.
"Well, well, aren't you surprised? Isn't this where you ask, 'Where is she? What have you done with Scully?"
Mulder glanced at Walter, saw the head mulishly bent, the fists caught in knots, white knuckled, painful looking lumps of obdurate defiance. The Smoker's washed out blue eyes followed Mulder's gaze. "Ah, yes, isn't he splendid? I do enjoy my little bouts with him, every time I think I've broken him, he surprises me. But Walter knows his limits. Do you know yours, Agent Mulder? You know, I realized belatedly that Alex had done me a favor, saving your sweet Agent Scully. She's your weakness as you are hers. So charming. And of course, Assistant Director Skinner will do almost anything to save you both. It's all so amusing."
Walter spat his words, "We don't have all day."
The Smoker leisurely lit another cigarette, his thin lips creasing in cruel little smile. He loved to play games, Mulder thought. He loved to pull strings.
"Now Alex is a trifle, an irritating trifle. I don't care for loose ends and I will not be defied." The Smoker said, his jaundiced fingers trembling in suppressed rage. "He's my property. Had you asked for his use nicely, Mulder, we might have made arrangements. It's not as if he has any real value. It's the principal of the matter."
Walter interjected, "If it's a bargain you want..."
The Smoker smirked and said, "What can you offer me? I already have a lien on your soul. As for Mulder, I am afraid it's too late. If I let dear Alex escape at this point, it would be a poor decision. It would undermine the corporate structure. However, I will promise you that I will spare his life. Who knows? I may need him again. I might send him back to you at some point. Once he's chastened." The man's laugh was a wet wicked thing, like the liquidly decaying slide of a ghastly hand.
"Now, choose, Scully's life or Alex's freedom? What will it be?" the Smoker said.
Mulder yelled, "Fuck you. Fuck you, someday you'll pay for this."
The Smoking Man puffed on his cigarette. He smiled around it and finished a long obscene drag on it before saying, "Scully is paying right now. There are things worse than death, you know. And that's not just a Victorian bit of melodrama. Did Alex tell you what I did with him? How I sold him? How he was passed from hand to hand like a tawdry little toy? What would that do to her? How would Scully deal with that? The violation of her body? The slow destruction of her inner self? Alex is adaptable. Amazingly adaptable. He bends. He accommodates and keeps some hidden reserve. Scully is strong yet she doesn't bend easily, does she, Mulder? No, I don't think she would live if I put her through what Alex endured. What do you think, Mulder?"
"Damn!" Mulder said, his voice shaken. The Smoking man was right. Scully couldn't endure degradation. Could not cope with the loss of her self-respect. Mulder said, "All right. But I'll need to see her."
The Smoker replied, "In all good time. When we exchange them, you'll see her. Meet me at the east end of the parking lot on Constitution Street by the War Memorial at midnight. If I'm late, you can always entertain yourselves by contemplating the merits of being a dead hero. So much less trying than the complexities of your lives."
Mulder asked as they climbed into the car, "Are we doing the right thing, Walter?"
Walter looked at him and said, "Is there any choice? It's not right, Mulder. Sometimes that's not the choice. Sometimes it's the choice ofone wrong against the other. Scully is in his hands because of us, Mulder. Because we love Alex. Because we can't resist him."
Mulder said to himself, "He won't kill, Alex. That would be losing if he does it now. I understand that much about him. We give him Alex, get Scully back, and then go after him. We'll find Alex again. And I know he'll forgive us."
Walter said, "Good that you know that. I don't even know that I'll be able to live with myself. Either way."
Mulder brightened and said, "Go to the Lone Gunmen. We'll plant a bug in his guts. We'll get Scully back and then free Alex too. It'll work. It'll have to work."
Mulder moaned as they approached the cabin. He shook his head and said, "God, Walter, how can we do this?"
Walter looked at him silently and said, "We could try some other way."
Mulder said, "He'd kill her or worse."
Walter replied, "I know. But it doesn't make this right."
Mulder said, "My instincts tell me that he isn't lying. The kind
of man he is...can't tolerate defiance, can't let anything he owns
get away. I really believe he won't kill Alex now that he's cooled
down. When he has Alex back, that will show the others that you
can't get away. Killing him would only show that he couldn't control
Krycek any other way."
Walter sighed and steered into the driveway. He said, "I'm not sure if Krycek wouldn't choose another bullet, this time right through his brain as the lesser evil."
Mulder fingered the transmitter. It was small, like a pill. Once Alex swallowed it, they would have twenty-four hours to follow it to him. It seemed so small to gamble a man's life on. Yet otherwise, the Smoking Man would win.
Alex was watching through the window. He met them at the door a questioning look in his eyes. He asked, "Is something wrong? Mulder, did you find Scully?"
Mulder looked at Walter. They hadn't decided when and what to tell Krycek. Walter made the decision. He took out handcuffs and said, "Give me your hands, Alex."
Alex looked to Mulder and then back. "Walter, Mulder, I thought..."His voice trembled and he said, "You said that you would keep me safe. You promised."
Mulder replied, "They took Scully, Alex. If we turn you over, The Smoker will give her back."
Alex knelt and laid his head against Mulder's legs. "Please, if you have to do it. It's okay. I understand, but not alive. You said that you loved me. Please just let me die first."
Mulder knelt and embraced Alex, "Shh, please don't cry anymore, Alex. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Alex said, "So you'll do it?"
Mulder closed his eyes and rested his cheek on Alex's hair. He said, "I can't. He said, "Alive" if I want Scully returned alive."
Alex pushed Mulder away. He looked at Walter helplessly. "Walter?"
Walter wanted to run from the cabin. If he ever had a chance at the Smoker, the man would pay. Gathering his courage, Walter said, "I can't help you until we get Scully back, but after that, we'll come after you, I promise. Mulder, show him the transmitter."
Mulder held it up. "See, Alex, you swallow this and then we'll use it to track you. He won't be able to hide you."
A very small voice said, "But he can...he does it all the time. I thought you loved me. You said that you loved me."
Walter took a deep breath and looked at Mulder and said, "He's right. We can't do this. We can't just turn him over against his will."
A cry wailed ripped out of Mulder. "Scully." Mulder turned and ran.
Walter gathered Alex up and helped him to the couch. Alex turned away from him, his shoulders moving. Weeping silently. This was hell, utter hell...
The grandfather clock loudly thumped away. The hesitation reminded Walter of Vietnam, of his ear pressed to the chest of a friend as they waited for the medics to save him. Of the shattered soundand then the silence as the heart took one last beat and ceased.
Mulder went outside, paced, walked up to Krycek, huddled on the couch with his face turned to the wall, said nothing and went out again. Walter looked at the clock. They were supposed to meet with the Smoker in an hour. Alex uncurled and slowly rose from the bed. He took a sighing breath and approached Walter. "Okay." He said simply.
Walter nodded and asked, "Are you sure?"
Alex replied, "No. But it's over no matter what I choose. You don't love me enough to sacrifice Scully, but at least, you weren't willing to just throw me away as the Smoker did. I'll go. Take me now before I run away. Because I'm so frightened, Walter. He wants to break me. He'll take away that last part of me and I'll be lost, truly lost."
Walter enfolded him. He rocked him as they stood. Mulder reentered. Walter's voice broke as he said "Alex is going to trade himself for Scully."
Mulder's face crumpled. He hurtled away, his fist crashing into the wall. He staggered and almost fell in his grief and rage. Walter said, "Mulder, this isn't your sacrifice or mine. This is Alex's time."
Mulder lifted suddenly furious eyes at Skinner. He snarled, "What do you mean?"
Walter quietly responded, "I mean that this may be the last hour we spend together for a while. If Alex can stand to look at us, we should spend it with him, not raging at the Smoker." Alex asked, "Do we have to go now?"
Walter nodded. Alex said, "You better drive, Walter. Mulder might get us all killed." And Alex tried to smile, but it was just a flicker, a thin stretch of his lips. He said, "Mulder, come on. Hold onto me. Hold on tight."
They crammed into the front seat. Alex's breaths came in deep shudders. Mulder and he clung together like frightened children, casting Walter as the adult. For once, he couldn't handle it. He had to stop the car before they reached the city. On his knees, retching, Walter spewed his guts into a ditch.
No one said anything after he rinsed his mouth and restarted the car. They drove in silence until they were blocks from the rendezvous. Alex asked, "Is it soon?"
Walter said, "Another mile."
Alex gasped and then said, "Is there time to stop? I think I need a moment."
Silent communication. Neither Mulder nor Walter stood close to Alex as he paced. If he ran, he ran. Finally, the trapped animal rambling stopped. Alex shook from head to toe. He raised his head and met Walter's eyes. He said, "Okay, I can do this. I just want you to hold me, both of you, and kiss me."
The streetlights overhead caught Mulder's hands as they framed Alex's face. The rest of Mulder seemed shadowed, as if the luminance of Alex's eyes was the only light left. Mulder didn't entirely let him go as Walter claimed him. Walter could feel them both trembling.
"Oh God, I keep hoping that you will deliver me." Alex murmured as their lips parted. "What will he do to me now? What will be left of me, Walter?"
Walter clenched his fists. He said, "I don't know, Alex. I'm all out of answers. I do love you. If there was another way..."
Alex said, "Just remember me. Don't forget this no matter what he makes me do."
Walter replied, "We'll always remember, Alex, and this isn't the end. I promise you."
Alex nodded and looked back at Mulder. He said, "I guess we have to go now."
Mulder couldn't meet Alex's eyes.
After they parked, Mulder held out their last hope. It meagerly reflected the light. "Down the hatch, Alex. This will lead us to you."
Eyes gleaming wet in his pale face, Alex slowly shook his head, but he let Mulder put the transmitter on his tongue and choked it down with the bottle of water that Walter offered him. He settled back, eyes closed, walling them away.
The Smoker was late. The three of them waited, silent, unable to look at each other.
Alex's face shone whitely as car headlights glared suddenly. A black limousine glided to a stop. Walter breathed a sigh of relief as two brutes dragged Scully from the car. Mulder threw a worried glance at Scully, but went around to open the door. Alex tried to get out, but his legs wouldn't support him. Mulder was unashamedly weeping as he helped their lover out of the car.
Walter stood supporting Alex who could not look away from the Smoker's smirking face. "Oh God" he whispered, "Oh God, Walter, tell Mulder if he sees me again it might not be really me. Be careful. I love you. Remember that no matter what happens. I really loved you."
Mulder ran to his partner, rapidly checking. He smiled, a smile that quickly lost its glow as he remembered the price they were paying. He said, "She's alive, Walter. Her pulse feels strong."
Their enemy grinned as he passed Mulder. He walked directly toward Walter. He had something in his hand, something shiny and odd in shape. Walter almost laughed as he realized the incongruous nature of the thing. It was a prong collar, a dog training device, blunt spikes curved to gouge and control a powerful brute.
The Smoking man lowered the thing over Krycek's head and jerked it tight. His nicotine stained hands rasped over Krycek's face in a mockery of a caress. He said, "My mistake was in not treating you like the bitch in heat that you are. Luis and I will take your training in hand now. Oh you don't have to fear for your life, Alex. I've reconsidered. We have so many long days and nights before us until you learn who your master is."
The old man pulled on the collar, abruptly sending Krycek to his knees. "Crawl, Krycek." The man whispered. "Crawl and hope that you manage to cooperate enough to convince me that you'll ever deserve to stand on your two feet again. I hate to make mistakes but I do learn from them. This time when I break you, you will stay broken."
The Smoking man flickered his thin-lipped joyless smile at Walter. He passed Mulder, carrying his beloved partner toward the car. Walter saw Alex lift his head and he saw the rage and hate in those big green eyes. He shivered. There was nothing else that they could do, but he had a feeling that Mulder and he were going to pay for this betrayal...pay for the rest of their lives.
The old man paused and laughed. He said, "I do love these classical references." He threw some shining metal objects down on the ground.
As the Smoking man pulled Krycek into the long black car, Walter's eyes were drawn to the things that he had thrown. Walter cried out as another piece of his soul died. The man had thrown down silver dollars, thirty pieces of silver.
Mulder saw them too and moaned, "Oh, God. Oh God, I'm sorry, Alex."
Walter bent and picked up the coins, tears dropping on the concrete of the parking lot as he did so.
Mulder said, "Walter, you can't ever tell her how we got her back this time. It would kill her."
Walter shook his head and said, "I wouldn't have the courage, Mulder. We will lie to her. But, just so we don't lie to ourselves," Walter let fifteen silver dollars drop into Mulder's lap. The remaining coins felt like the chains of hell pulling him down. He started the car and drove off into the dark, cold night. Mulder stared straight ahead and Walter knew it was over. He and Mulder would never touch each other again without seeing Alex Krycek crawling away on the end of the Smoker's lead.
Mulder fumbled the transmitter-tracking device from under the seat. He turned it on as they headed for the nearest emergency room. Mulder muttered, "I have him. He's going west. Hurry up. As soon as we get Dana to the hospital, we'll go after him."
So many questions. Dana's name, their relationship, her nearest relative. Their IDs stood between them and arrest. She woke before they finished checking her in. She grasped Mulder's hand and said, "They kidnapped me. I didn't tell them where Alex was. I hope I didn't at least. Did they...did they get him?"
Mulder bleakly said, "They got him. Dana, I'll be back. We planted a transmitter on Alex. Walter and I have to go after him."
Eagerly, both of them reached for the tracking box. No LED blip. Nothing. Just a scrolling useless map. Mulder's phone rang. The voice said, "Clever, Mulder, but not clever enough. There's no trick that we don't know."
Mulder looked up at Walter as he hung up. He said, "I could hear him screaming."
Walter's hand closed on the pile of silver dollars and he flung them into the darkness. The ring of them sounding hollowly in the dark.
I'm so sorry, Alex. I'll get you out of this, I promise.
