by Ursula
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?"
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..."
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."
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 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."
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."
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."
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!"
"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:
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."
"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."
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.
The Executioner's Face AKA Silver
ulder 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.
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."
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."
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'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.
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."
Walter stepped out and put an arm briefly around Mulder. "He'll be
here soon."
Alex settled in the bed, but caught at Mulder's hand. "I'll sleep if
you lie down with me."
Mulder couldn't tell, but he knew Alex had wonderful eyesight. He
said, "Want one? I'll get you one."
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.
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.
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."
