The Y Files
Fandom: The X-Files
Category/Rated: PG13
Year/Length: ~13,200 words
Pairing: Mulder/Krycek
Disclaimer: 1013 owns the characters. These are not even the characters. This is an AU, and I'm sorry This story was originally written for the Terma Zine, "Leather and Armani."
Author's Notes: Just suppose that Mulder was abducted, Alex was the sidekick, and Scully was the ratbastard....
Beta: by Frankie, thank you.
He didn't know where he was.
He had arrived home late, thrown his case down in the living room and fallen onto his couch, too tired to do anything but drop his jacket onto a chair back and slump down. For once, he had fallen asleep almost immediately as the grim reality of his job was doused in dreams.
His dreams had been confused, and when the TV came on suddenly, providing his alarm call, he had struggled to come awake, fighting sluggish swoops of dizziness to make his way back to reality, only. Only this wasn't it.
It wasn't his reality. It wasn't his apartment. It wasn't his TV that was playing either, and he was suddenly afraid.
He opened his eyes and tried to look around. He couldn't turn his head. He couldn't move his arms and legs, and all he could see within his limited field of vision was a diffuse light in a grey space. He couldn't tell how big the space was. There were no apparent boundaries.
He shouted out then, calling to whoever might be listening, asking them to tell him what was going on. There was no reply save for the music and the flashes that seemed to be from a TV screen just outside his visual field.
He tried to struggle and found himself securely held in place although he could feel no bonds.
He closed his eyes and tried to feel the ties that held him. No ropes chafed or cut him. He just couldn't move. Opening his eyes again, he tried to make out anything in the muted light of the place where he was. There were no details. There was nothing. He was in no place, outside of time, and his body was no longer his own.
He screamed.
His voice, harsh and frantic, sounded good to him. It sounded real. It felt good to scream out his panic, and he howled, his throat rasping as he did.
There were suddenly sounds, and then he found himself floating back down into the blackness of a warm, safe place that was his own entirely. Pictures fluttered through his mind like so many night creatures blindly making their way toward the light. The case he had recently been working on had been bizarre. Duane Barry was an abductee, he could swear to it. When Duane had kidnapped Scully, he had chased them crazily, and finally, thanks to his new partner, Alex Krycek, he had managed to save her from meeting the fate Duane had planned for her.
Had Alex not knocked out the cable car operator and taken over the controls, Mulder would never have made it on time. He could picture the scene on the top of Skyland Mountain, Barry, with Scully at his feet, holding up supplicating hands as the bright light had drawn closer.
He had run faster than he had believed possible. He had taken Scully, half dragging and half carrying her away as Barry had seemed mesmerized by the light that drew nearer with every second.
Kneeling, cradling the unconscious Scully in his arms, he had watched Barry realize that his captive was gone. Barry had shrieked once then and turned to run before Mulder had seen him somehow translated into a column of sparkling light, drawn screaming upwards with a crackle of atmospheric, something.
The light had abruptly vanished, leaving the summit empty save for Mulder and his precious burden.
Hoisting her up in his arms, he had made his way back to the cable car and called Alex.
Alex was waiting down at the base, and as he saw Mulder appear on the monitor, he gave a whoop and started up the cable car once more. By the time the car had descended from the summit to where Alex awaited it, there were tears in the young agent's eyes, and as the car came to rest, he was already tearing at the door, helping Mulder to carry Scully down and lay her on a bench. As Mulder laid her down and straightened up, Krycek flung himself onto Mulder, his arms around the other man like a vise. Burying his head into the shoulder of the other man's jacket, he stammered out his relief at seeing the two of them again.
Mulder had suffered the embrace for a moment or two and then disengaged himself kindly from the young man's clutching grasp. A kind of tremor had gone through him as he held Krycek's arms and searched his face. Alex had enormous, long-lashed green eyes, and at that moment, those eyes seemed so full of love for him that Mulder felt it like some physical presence, and it shook him to the core.
He had touched the young man's cheek in a mute acceptance that they would have something to discuss once all this was over and seen the leaping of hope in Krycek's face before turning back to Scully to get her to a hospital.
It had been very late when the now conscious, but terribly shocked Scully had been admitted into the hospital. Krycek had fallen asleep in the waiting room, and Mulder, so tired and emotionally drained he couldn't think straight, had written a little note apologizing for running out on him and asking him to call in the morning, tucking the note under Alex's wristwatch. Then he had climbed into his car as if he were sleep walking and driven home.
Now he was here, wherever here was. The only thing he was certain about was that it was not his home.
Hazily, he felt his limbs being moved and returned to the present. He had slightly more freedom of movement now. His fingers could wriggle, and he could turn his head enough to see that he was lying on a broad, flat expanse of metal that seemed to be pierced, permitting diffuse light to shine through. He could see that he was naked, and in some places the light source from beneath him shone clear through his body, permitting glimpses of bone and sinew within. He felt as though he were melting.
There were sensations crawling through him now. Something was stroking his feet. There were light touches, then stronger ones. His feet were suddenly massaged, stretched and stroked with sensations that varied from feather light to firm. It felt nice, very nice, and he relaxed as the touching and stroking continued. Other sensations ran through his body, confusing him. He felt a raging thirst, a burning hunger, then the skin of his right hand suddenly seemed to be on fire. He shrieked in agony as the pain possessed him. The feeling left him just as suddenly as it had come, leaving him gasping and drained.
The massaging had continued, moving up from feet to calves, and then to his thighs. It was now working the inside of his thighs and his buttocks, and he could feel himself becoming aroused as he charted the progression of the stimulation. In a few moments, the squeezing, kneading and pummeling would reach his genitals, and he found himself holding his breath as it approached them.
He pictured Alex Krycek, junior FBI agent, and wondered where he was right now. He felt feather light caresses on his testicles, then his perineum. His buttocks felt super sensitized as the flesh of them was squeezed and pulled. Then it was as if someone or something had penetrated him. His ass was full. His prostate was being stroked, and all of a sudden, his cock, rigid now, was taken and squeezed. He was being fucked. He was fucking. My God, he couldn't tell which, and he couldn't move to prevent it. Protesting, he was possessed utterly and dragged inexorably towards an orgasm so intense it had him shaking.
As it took his body, sending surges of excitement jolting through him, the vision of Alex Krycek as he had looked in the cable car control room rose up before him. He imagined he could feel the soft lips on his as he felt his body spasm and his balls contract in an endless wave of spurting, tickling pleasure.
It felt as if the breath had been squeezed out of him as pulses of ecstasy washed through him again and again, emptying him out, draining him dry, finally becoming almost painful as he lay hel
pless. He was able only to pant and groan, and roll his head from side to side with the force of it all until, with a vision of green eyes drinking in his soul, he passed out again.
Time passed by like the sand in the hourglass, trickling down the slide of Mulder's thoughts, leaving him empty and waiting, who knew for what?
He lay there, squashed like a bug under glass, for what felt like forever as the cycle repeated itself endlessly while he was drained of seed, drained of life, drained of energy.
Alex Krycek ran through the hospital corridors. For once he was not dressed in the suit and tie he affected for work, and his blue jeans fit him snugly, the casual T-shirt and leather jacket transforming him from a nerdy-looking young man to something different, something a little menacing.
He burst into the hospital room where Dana Scully was preparing to leave, and as she turned to face him, he strode towards her, grabbing hold of her shoulders in a bruising grip.
"Agent Scully, he's gone. I called his apartment, but he wasn't there. I went over to see him, and he's gone, but his keys, his wallet, everything. It's all still there. I don't know what to do." The young man's face was a study in consternation, and he chewed his lower lip as Dana Scully drew herself up, shrugging his hands away.
"There must be some logical explanation for it. I'm just about ready to leave here, Krycek. Let's go take a look." She gathered up her jacket, and together they left the hospital.
Climbing into Krycek's car, Dana Scully studied the young man with cool disinterest. She had been with Fox Mulder on the X-Files for around a year, and when the department had been closed down, she had been sent back to Quantico as an instructor, teaching pathology. She'd seen Mulder hook up with the young man beside her and felt a certain jealousy. His eager-beaver attitude had
irritated her to a degree she would rather not admit. Looking at his worried expression now, she felt a gleam of satisfaction as she examined his anxiety and found it good.
As they arrived at Mulder's apartment, she watched as Krycek deftly picked the lock before withdrawing her own key from her pocket and dangling it in front of him. He made as if to say something, but she rolled her eyes, snatched the key from his reaching grasp and put it away in the same movement that she slipped through the door and into Mulder's place.
Krycek tossed his hair out of his eyes and followed her in, a little afraid now of the diminutive woman whose help he had sought.
Inside the apartment they stood together, taking in the evidence of Mulder's recent presence there. There was the suit jacket hanging over the chair back, the gun, the watch and the wallet lying on the coffee table, and the shoes and socks strewn beside the couch.
In the corner of the room, the TV flickered, and Scully reached for the remote that lay on the couch, thumbing the control to turn it off. The two of them looked at each other, and without further ado they began to search the rest of the apartment.
The shower and tiles were dry, and to Krycek, that fact was worthy of note. He had not left the apartment voluntarily. The bed had not been slept in, but then it never was. Alex turned to Scully, eyebrows raised, and she gave him a cold smile.
"I think you're right. There's something strange about this. His wallet is still here. He wouldn't have gone out without that." Krycek moved to play back Mulder's phone messages, but there were none. He was baffled. He was more than just baffled; he was heartsick, and somewhere inside him, the certainty that Mulder was in serious danger had begun to flower.
"What do we do now, Scully?" He turned to her, worried green eyes meeting acid blue as she gave him a gaze that withered him.
"Do? We follow procedure. We go back to the office and fill out a report. There's little else we can do." Her voice was cold. He could see that she was anxious to be rid of him.
"Don't you think we should call the police?" His voice was whiny; he could hear it himself. She shrugged her shoulders at him.
"Call them if you want. They won't do anything, but if it makes you feel better." The scorn was evident in both her tone and her curled lip. He felt himself growing angry at last. He grabbed her shoulders, his fingers digging in as he shook her, briefly.
"Don't you care? I thought you." His voice trailed away, defeated, as he searched her face for compassion.
"Loved him?" She laughed harshly, brushed his hands off her shoulders and turned to leave. "No, I don't love him. He's all yours. See you back at the office." With that, she left, high heels click-clicking on the hardwood as she crossed to the door.
Krycek picked his phone out of his pocket and slowly dialed the police.
Alex was sleeping when the call came. The weeks had blurred by, and he hadn't found any trace of Mulder. The man had vanished as completely as if he were one of his own X-Files. He was, dammit, he was an X-File. Alex had let himself into the basement office and gone through the files over and over again, searching for clues to the senior agent's disappearance, but he had turned up nothing more than a smokescreen, behind which there lay only rows of question marks.
Now, almost three months after the night on Skyland Mountain, at 5:30 on a Saturday morning, his phone shrilled, and Alex fought his way through the thick blanket of sleep deprivation towards consciousness. His hand groped for the phone, knocking his watch to the floor as he fumbled, his eyes closed against the morning.
"Krycek." Mumbling huskily into the phone, he uttered mental curses as the warm sweetness of sleep receded and then vanished. It was Scully, and her voice woke him up, bringing him out of bed in a rush.
"I thought you should know. Mulder was found during the night. He's in the University Hospital, but he's not expected to live." The voice cut him like crystal shards, and the frisson that traveled down his back at her words woke him as surely as if she had dashed water in his face.
"Where is he? What's happened." but the dial tone told him that she had already hung up.
He showered rapidly and pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, not waiting for his skin to dry. He combed his hair and left it wet, pausing only to grab cash and keysbefore running out of the apartment.
As he reached the hospital, the light from the early morning sun burst through and lit up the building before him, bouncing colored rays from the glasswork as the clouds rolled back. The beauty of it was wasted on him, and without a second thought he slammed his car door and ran for the reception. As he ran, he thought he caught sight of Scully with another man, but when he turned to greet her, the two of them had left. Puzzled, Alex scratched his head. On the ground were the still smoking remains of a Morley cigarette.
Flashing his badge at the laconic receptionist, he swiftly identified the location of the John Doe who'd been admitted the night before. He took off at speed for the intensive care unit. It was only after he had arrived and was seated at Mulder's bedside listening to the wheeze and beep of the medical equipment hooked up to him that he suddenly made the connection.
This was a John Doe. How had she known? It just didn't make sense. He picked up his phone and dialed her number, listening for her answering voice. The phone rang for a while, and he finally hung up, disturbed.
The man in the bed lay pale and immobile. Tubes led to his nose and his wrist, and his chest appeared to be almost unmoving. He could have been a statue, so still did he lie, and the waxy pallor of his complexion only served to enhance the resemblance. He looked thinner than Alex remembered, and the fan of Mulder's lashes over the high cheekbones beckoned to him. He leaned forward to take one lax, long-fingered hand between both of his, bringing it up to his lips.
"Mulder? Come on, Mulder, where are you?" Come back to me. I really need you." The low, rough voice appeared to have some effect on the comatose man. The smooth, high forehead creased just for a second, and Alex waited avidly for more. The moment passed, and everything was as it had been before. Alex dropped his head onto Mulder's hand and rested there as he tried to think of a way to help the man in the bed.
"Mulder, you have to wake up. The world needs you. You're the only one who can possibly get at the truth. If you go, Scully is only going to cover everything up. I'm afraid of Scully, Mulder. She's acting as if she hates you." The whispered words were intense, delivered in Krycek's gravelly voice, and once again a vague frown appeared on Mulder's face, smoothing out and vanishing like ripples on a pond. Alex stayed there, holding Mulder's hand for a long time before hunger pangs began to interrupt his brooding thoughts.
It was dark and quiet where Mulder was. The pain and the pleasure had faded, and he was left, floating somewhere out of time. Light bathed his tortured body. It was warm and quiet here, and he had no desire to go back although he could hear someone calling him. He had nobody, owed nothing, and his life now was meaningless, ludicrous. He felt like a cipher, a hollow shell, and he knew that nothing could replenish what had been drained from him. He wanted to go. He wanted to leave it all behind and find Samantha at last, but there was a voice that kept on calling him.
There was a voice. It permeated his dreams, crystallized honey melting at the edges, fine lambswool with a burr caught deep in the pile. He knew the voice, but he didn't know why.
It promised him things. He could hear the promise of the voice and the things it was offering. He had been so lonely for so long. He couldn't tell if the promises were genuine, but to his tormented mind, one thing rang true,
"Mulder, I need you," and in the end that was enough. It was all he had ever wanted, to be needed by someone. He turned his back to the light and prepared to return to the world.
The morning had long since gone, and the gold of afternoon shone on the face of the unconscious man. Alex Krycek had been driven by hunger to go in search of sustenance and was only now returning with coffee and a sandwich. When Mulder moaned and adjusted his position in the bed, the sound came heavy on the still air, and Alex, who had been staring abstractedly into the steam from his coffee cup, jumped, and practically dropped his food into his lap.
He'd remained at Mulder's bedside since early that morning. His mind was full of the puzzle that was Fox Mulder. He knew Mulder's family was still alive, and he was baffled by the lack of anyone at the man's bedside. Where were his parents? Where - godammit - was Scully?
He'd phoned AD Skinner to tell him of Mulder's reappearance, and the AD had promised to look in after the game was over, but so far, he, Alex, was the only visitor.
He'd kept up a running commentary of his thoughts and feelings directed at Mulder as he lay, waxy and immobile, and his throat was feeling a little sore.
Hastily putting down his plate and cup, he turned to the man in the bed.
"Fox, Fox, please come on back." But the movement had been fleeting, and it seemed as though there was to be no further change in him.
Alex returned to an abstracted munching of his sandwich. His belly was letting him know that it was seriously food deprived. When he heard the mild voice drift from the direction of the bed, it came as a total shock to him.
"Krycek? Where's Scully?" and Alex's blood stilled for a moment or two as he pondered the implications of the question. His heart ached as he realized that he had no answer to give.
"Mulder, I don't know. It's Saturday, and I couldn't reach her." That was true as far as it went. "AD Skinner will be by in a while. Is there anyone else I can call for you?"
Mulder shook his head, and Alex could see his resignation to being alone. His heart went out to this lonely man. He understood. Gently, he bent towards the man in the bed and kissed him on his lips.
For a while, nobody spoke. Mulder lay, eyes closed, in the butterscotch warmth of the late afternoon sunlight. Alex had subsided back into his seat and perched there, poised for flight as he awaited judgment. His heart knocked wildly on the inside of his ribs, and he felt absurdly as though the air he was breathing contained some subtle poison. His groin was tingling too as his cock began to twitch and leap into readiness.
He gulped. Mulder had opened his eyes and was gazing at him strangely, very strangely indeed.
"Mulder, I." His voice, breathy to begin with, faded away, and he lost himself in the eyes of Fox Mulder. Mulder smiled slowly as the other man fell silent.
"Do you know what they did to me, Alex?" The question was mild, and Alex shook his head, still drowning in Mulder's gaze. "They sucked me dry over and over again. I never saw them. They." The voice died, and Mulder's shoulders began to shake. Alex threw himself forward to comfort him, his arms around him as far as they could go.
Alex could feel his cock, slippery with pre-ejaculate, sliding over Mulder's. He scrambled down to take hold of the other man's crazily bobbing cock, tasting him gently, then more determinedly, and finally sucking him deep inside his mouth with a growl.
"Oh, god, yes." The hissed intake of breath from Fox seemed like a good thing. It seemed like more than a good thing. It was perfect to have Fox's jumping prick deep in his throat while he ran his hands over the perfection of Fox's muscular ass cheeks and sucked, drinking him down.
Mulder lay quiescent under Alex's assault, apparently unresponsive. The sigh he gave seemed to indicate that he had taken some comfort from the embrace, and Alex held him close for a short while before gently touching his lips to him and straightening up.
"Fox, I don't know what's happening, but there's something very strange about this. I don't know how to tell you, but it seems that Scully might be implicated in something sinister." Alex found it difficult to look at Fox as he was talking, and the man in the bed started as Alex explained his suspicions, describing the things he had seen. He was well aware that his words were falling with the same effect as lead. Gritting his teeth, he stumbled on, watching Fox's eyes widen as he went into detail. He was just winding up when the door to the ward opened and AD Skinner stepped in, looking serious.
The Assistant Director was tall, broad and somehow infinitely reassuring by virtue of his size. When he was close by, it seemed unlikely that harm could ever come to the people in his charge. His mien was usually solemn, but today he had a face like thunder, and Krycek quailed as he stomped into the room.
"Agent Scully's phone has been disconnected. Anyone care to tell me what's going on?" The two men he was addressing both stared at him blankly. They had no idea what to make of this turn of events. Krycek gritted his teeth and began his tale over again for the newcomer, while Mulder closed his eyes and to all appearances lapsed back into a coma.
Alone at last, Fox Mulder lay in his hospital bed and attempted to recall just how much he had trusted Scully. He tried to remember why. She had never believed in him. She had always raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, but she had always strung along behind him, and somehow crucial evidence had inevitably disappeared at the end of each case.
Scully! Not Scully. I trusted her. I can't believe she would betray me. He just couldn't wrap his mind around her duplicity.
She'd become almost a sister to him. She'd been his confidante, his sounding board, and occasionally his conscience. He couldn't come to grips with her behavior now. His heart ached, and he felt the dull pain from a very great distance. He felt dislocated, as though it wasn't truly his pain, and wondered why it should feel like an intellectual hurt when by rights it should cut him to the bone.
He pictured Scully, small and fine-boned, with her arrogant, bred-in-the-bone expression and her piercing stare. She was cold, dispassionate, and had spent much of her time bringing him back to earth when he had zoomed off on some outlandish theory. He had thought her fair. He had believed her to be his friend.
How the hell had this happened? Had she been sent to spy on him right from the start? Had her friendship been a myth? A lie? What the hell had happened to his judgment? He was a bloody profiler for fuck's sake. How had his own personal judgment of her character failed so badly?
He switched his focus to Alex Krycek, his current sidekick. He had distrusted Alex from the start. He'd given him the runaround, but Alex had stuck to him like shit to a blanket.
When he had awoken, Alex had been there, sitting beside his bed, the only one who had seemed to care that he had been missing, or that he had been found.
Alex had cared or seemed to. Mulder closed his eyes and pictured Alex as he had been when he had awoken. Until now, Mulder had only seen him in his box-like suits with his hair gelled back out of his eyes. He'd found the younger man extremely attractive despite his ugly clothes. The faade of geeky young acolyte that he presented seemed to mask some deeper, more sensual appeal, and Mulder had responded to the unspoken resonance, feeling more and more drawn to him during the brief time that they had been colleagues.
When he had opened his eyes yesterday and seen the man sitting beside his bed, he hadn't recognized him to begin with. The hair was a shining, silky fall over his left eye, and he was dressed in tight, worn blue jeans with a T-shirt covered by a black leather biker jacket. He had seemed different, more animal, with sensuality inherent in every movement and a predatory hunger about him. His eyes had still been full of adoration for him, but somehow the balance had changed, and it suddenly felt as though the other man wanted to devour him, to swallow him whole. When Alex had suddenly bent to kiss him, he had somehow felt threatened, although he couldn't have said why.
Alex's kiss had been soft and sweet, a fine garnish to the comfort of the bed. Butterfly soft, lips moist and clinging just for an instant, the kiss had promised more - so much more he could not imagine - and then gone, leaving only a vague memory from outside of time, a husky whisper calling him back. 'Mulder, I need you.'
He slept.
Dark dreams beset him, and in his sleep he ran through winding streets in darkness, looking endlessly for Scully and knowing that something was following him, always right behind him. Turning at last, he faced a dark figure that slowly moved towards him until he could see that it was Alex. It was an Alex who was smiling fiercely and calling in his buzzing, strangely insect-like voice for him to stay, not to leave, telling him how much he needed him.
The smiling Krycek moved towards him and as he reached out to Mulder, a sense of dread overcame the dreamer as though what was happening here in this place would somehow be a message for his life. As Krycek folded him in arms that were as tight and secure as steel bands, he bent to capture Mulder's mouth with his own, and this kiss was not a sweet and gentle benison; it was a pillaging of all that he was. He felt himself devoured by this dream-Alex, pieces of him fading away, being lost as he opened himself wide and then fell into soft, shimmering blackness.
He had found Mulder again. His heart was singing as he awoke the next morning. He would see him again today.
Alex had slept really badly. When he had finally drifted away, he had been awakened in an explosion of lust, gripped by the most powerfully erotic dream he had ever experienced. After that, he had merely lain sizzling in his soiled bed, waiting for the clock to carry him around to the time when he could go back to the hospital and be with Mulder again.
Of course, around 5:30 he had fallen asleep, and now it was time to get up and go see his love. He felt like shit, but that too was wonderful on a day like today when everything was a tribute to Fox. Rapidly, he showered and left the house, this time wearing jeans and a cable knit sweater that was as soft and as green as his eyes, with an old check workshirt to cover it.
He left his apartment without remembering breakfast, and it was only as he passed the McDonald's that he remembered his hunger was physical as well as emotional. He drove through, snagging a breakfast for himself on his way.
There was no trace of McAnything in his bag by the time he arrived at the hospital. He had scoured the wrappers and then licked his fingers clean like a cat. He felt as if he could eat at least another of the things even though he could swear that they had been de-flavored specially before being put on sale.
Parking, he headed for the room where Fox had reappeared into his life. His heart fluttered madly, and he had to breathe deeply to keep his body behaving.
Entering the room, at first he was stunned because Fox wasn't there, but even as he gasped and backed away, the bathroom door opened, and there was his love, dressed in the short green hospital gown that made him look absurdly young and very sexy. Alex felt his dick swell alarmingly and stood gaping at Mulder as all conscious thought fled, leaving him with knowledge only of the single point between his thighs that was crying out for the man in front of him. He opened his mouth and then closed it again because his voice had gone.
"Alex?" Mulder smiled at him, causing his brain function to shut down again. He took a couple of slow steps towards Mulder, who flushed suddenly but showed no sign of making a move to avoid him.
When Alex reached him, the two of them stood for a moment, so close together that they each could feel the heat from the other, but not yet touching, not touching at all.
To Alex, it felt as if the air was charged with electricity. He was breathing a new medium, something dark and heavy that numbed his face even as his penis rose, passing its jolts of sweet pain through him. He shuddered, and Fox said again:
"Alex?" and laid his hand on Alex's shoulder, his thumb moving in to caress Alex's neck very gently. Alex gasped and leaned forward to place his lips to Mulder's, feeling the potent proximity of the man like a punch to the gut. Mulder's hand slid, tightened on the back of his neck, and then pulled Alex to him.
The dam burst. Alex couldn't hold back any longer, and his arms closed around Fox, pulling him tight against his needy body as their mouths closed onto each other, lips slid and parted, and they tasted each other at last.
Alex's hand slipped into the gap down the back of the hospital gown and traced Mulder's spine, first up, and then down to where Fox's buttocks swelled. He moaned, hand stroking and then retreating slightly as he realized just how intimate he was becoming. He moaned again as Mulder's tongue surged over his and pressed in as close as he possibly could, his erection as hard as diamond as he felt the answering hardness of the man in his arms.
Fox Mulder knew how to kiss. Alex felt helpless as he held onto Mulder with desperate hands, giving himself up to the moist feel of sensuous lips, snaking tongue and warm, hard body pressed firmly against him. When finally they drew apart, it seemed to Alex that he might need the services of the hospital if he were ever going to recover.
As he stood, chest heaving, trying to pull himself together, Mulder moved over to the bed and sat on the edge of it, eyeing Alex in an oddly appraising way.
"Alex? Could you get me some clothes?" It took a minute for Fox's words to sink in, and then he nodded, raising an eyebrow in inquiry as he recovered his powers of speech.
My God! What just happened? Does he like me? He must like me.
"I'm feeling fine. I don't want to stay here any more. Please, Alex, get me some clothes?" Mulder was on his feet again, taking the couple of steps that put him close enough to impair Alex's breathing all over again. He reached to cup Alex's chin and leaned forward, mouth very close now. "I want to go home."
Alex was transfixed, trapped in the headlamps of Mulder's seductive stare. He finally found his voice and mumbled something, and Fox swept him once again into a kiss of the kind that curled his toes, straightened out his dick, and made the blood pound through his head in a song of desperate need.
Moaning and clinging, Alex surrendered himself to the onslaught, feeling as if he had somehow been swept away by a tidal wave. Mulder's mouth was sweet and insistent, sucking the breath out of him, sucking his tongue into play, and drowning him, overwhelming him in the sweet sensation of belonging, just for a second belonging to another being.
Finally, when it was either break away or crouch down on all fours and beg to be fucked, Fox released him just a little, allowing him to lean his head back and look into the shrewd hazel eyes that were surveying him. Alex's heart fluttered as he read the unmistakable message that shone from them.
"I.. I'll go now, shall I?" Mulder smiled faintly as he nodded.
Returning to the hospital at breakneck speed, Alex tried to remember why in heaven he had imagined he was hungry. His mouth was dry, and the very last thing he needed was food.
Pushing open the door to Mulder's room for the second time that morning, Alex looked around for his partner. The room was unoccupied, but this time the bathroom door stood open, showing it was empty. Alex laid the bag of clothing on the bed and was just about to leave the room in search of Mulder when he heard the loud sounds of argument from outside in the corridor. He grinned to himself as he heard Mulder's flat, nasal tones raised in protest. Moments later he entered the room, still dressed in the skimpy gown, and a man in a white coat, presumably his doctor, followed him in, yelling something incomprehensible about electrolytes.
"I'm leaving, and that's final." Mulder, always obstinate, looked positively mulish. He flashed a brilliant smile when he saw Alex and made for the bag on the bed. "Alex here is going to stay with me for a few days. He'll make sure I don't suddenly keel over or something."
As he delved into the bag and began to pull out clothing, Alex pondered. He wasn't too happy with the idea of mediating between the man and his doctor, but Mulder had said that he was going to be staying with him. He was beginning to white out again, lost in remembered sensation of arms locked tight around him, and he couldn't think straight.
Fox had found underwear and was busily dressing himself. Alex had chosen blue jeans and a grey sweatshirt for Mulder, and he had them on in no time, stooping to tie the laces on his trainers. The doctor seemed finally to have accepted his impending defection, because he turned to Alex, requesting that he keep Mulder there while the discharge papers were prepared. Alex nodded assent, and the man left hurriedly.
"Fox?" The man looked up from his final shoelace and saw the uncertainty on Alex's face. Straightening up, he moved to put his arms around Alex, nuzzling into his neck for just a second. "Fox, do you think it's wise to do this? Shouldn't you stay until they're sure that whatever happened to you won't have any lasting after effects?"
Mulder smiled again, his glance considering as he looked at Alex.
"I'm fine. I know I'm fine. They just want a new BMW at my expense. Besides, nobody knows what happened to me. Even I don't know, and I'm the one it happened to. Apart from which I really, really want to make love to you, Alex, and I can't do that here. It will blow all their monitors." The gasp, which followed this speech, indicated that Alex had finally processed the words.
Alex's entire body tingled at the extremities. Fox. He was going to have Fox. He stopped protesting and merely gazed adoringly at Mulder, who bent to him again, dragging a scratchy cheek across his before capturing his lips again in a gentle, soulful kiss.
There were no more protests. Mulder broke the kiss as the door reopened and began to sign the forms that stated he was discharging himself from the hospital against medical advice. Once the forms were signed, Mulder turned and stalked quickly from the room, leaving Alex to collect his bag hastily and follow in his wake.
They arrived back at Mulder's apartment having sped through the calm and quiet of the sparse Sunday morning traffic. Alex was as nervous as a cat as he drove Mulder home. And as they arrived outside his apartment building, he parked his car, turning to Mulder, wondering if he would now be told to leave.
"Were you serious? Do you want me to go? You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Fox. I know you just wanted to get away from the hospital."
Mulder listened to Alex with a slight smile on his face. As the earnest, young agent finished speaking, his voice thick with need, he began to climb out of the car, looking back over his shoulder at Alex.
"Come. I wasn't joking." Alex felt for a minute as though someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over him. The words drilled through his head, echoing down into his craving flesh. He climbed out of his car, locked it and followed after Mulder. Mulder hadn't waited for him and was even now entering the building.
Scurrying, Alex caught up with Mulder as he waited for the elevator, and the two of them stepped in side by side, Alex jittering and fidgeting, while Fox remained calm, quiet and almost too placid. Arriving at the door to number 42, Mulder appeared disconcerted for the first time. He turned to Alex.
"I can't get in." He looked so woebegone that Alex felt a rush of warm, protective feeling as he stepped forward and calmly picked the lock, pushing the door open for Fox to enter.
Once they were inside, Alex closed the door and leaned on it, watching Mulder as he prowled around, picking things up and putting them down aimlessly. He turned to Alex, and the look on his face was desolate. Alex stepped towards him, his arms out to offer whatever comfort he could, as he watched Mulder's confident seeming exterior crumble.
Taking Fox in his arms, he pulled him in to lie against him, making tiny, soothing noises as he gentled and stroked the feathery hair and long, smooth back. For a long while they didn't move, and the two of them stood, locked in each other's arms while Fox shuddered and shook. Alex held him close, pressing tiny kisses into his hair, his neck, his ear, and murmuring soft words of encouragement to him.
At last, Fox lifted his head from Alex's shoulder and looked at him without speaking. Alex tightened his hold on the other man's shoulders, pulling his face around with his hand on the back of Fox's head. Fox essayed a somewhat watery smile, and Alex felt a bolt of lust to the pit of his stomach that made him grunt. Then, he lost himself as their lips closed on each other's, and they finally stood mouth to mouth, tongues sliding lazily to taste slick sweetness.
Alex, his arm tight around Fox's shoulder, fingers buried in Fox's hair as he kissed him, ran his other hand down the supple lines of Mulder's back until it arrived at the swelling buttocks where it tightened, pressing Mulder against his hard, straining penis. Mulder's answering arousal was plain to feel, and Alex shivered, lust paring reason from instinct like a sharp blade. When finally the kiss ended, all he knew was the feel of Fox and his need, his all consuming need to become a part of him until he no longer knew where he ended and Fox began. He needed to wrap himself around the other man and take him into his body, to sink inside Mulder's body. He moaned, feeling the sharp, sweet pull of sensation to his groin as Mulder pressed himself hard against it.
"Jesus, Alex, is that a gun in your pocket?" Mulder's voice was neither calm nor coherent. He began to apply his lips to Alex's throat, his own arms clutching at Alex as he planted a line of sucking kisses along his jawline, leaving a row of small red marks as he went. Alex threw back his head and closed his eyes as he felt Mulder's kisses like heat on his skin.
"God, Fox, have you g-got a bed?" His eyes when he opened them were glassy, and his arms were restless, running down to pluck the hem of Fox's sweatshirt up, sliding his hands beneath to slip it off him. He ran eager hands down from Fox's shoulders to his elbows and then stooped to fix his hungry mouth onto one of the pinkish brown nipples he had revealed, nipping it between sharp, white teeth as he flicked his tongue over the sensitive peak.
Mulder moaned and slid his hand up to stroke the back of Alex's neck before taking his hand to lead him through to his bedroom. The bed was heaped with books and papers, and Alex began carefully gathering them into piles to place to one side. Fox watched him for a minute, and then took hold of the coverlet by its corners and yanked, dumping the entire mess onto the floor. Taking hold of Alex, he threw him onto the bed, following him down to spread himself over the lean frame of the younger man. His mouth searched desperately for its mate and locked onto it, as his tongue plunged inside in a wild desire to lose himself in his partner's eager flesh.
Alex felt the heat of Mulder's body laid out along him and arched to press himself closer if that were possible. Running his hands over Mulder's smooth skin, he slid them down to stroke the small of Mulder's back and spread his thighs, allowing him to squirm against him. He plucked ineffectually at the jeans that Mulder wore, and finally Mulder, who appeared to be far more in control than his desperate partner, rolled a little to one side, pulling at Alex's sweater.
"Off." The voice was clipped by desire, and Alex sat up to wriggle out of his clothing before turning his attention once again to the jeans Fox wore, tearing a fingernail in his haste to get the damned things off. At last they were both naked, and Alex was reeling with desire as he ran first his eyes, and then his hands over the long, whipcord strong body. Fox moaned and pulled Alex down to cover him. Then as skin met skin and hands molded every dip and swell for the first time, the two of them began to explore the sensations they could generate in each other as they lay belly to belly.
There was no finesse in the way Alex sucked on Fox. There were no subtleties of caress as he forced him down and gulped against the hard flesh. There was merely need and intensity as he took what was his. He deserved this now, and nothing that lived could take it from him.
Mulder's hands were threaded through Alex's hair, stroking it back from the high forehead as he shuddered, and Alex could feel the proximity of Fox's orgasm as he worked, face pressed into the short, damp curls at Fox's groin. Mulder screamed and thrashed wildly under Alex's hot, hungry mouth, and then Alex felt the scalding, acrid fluid begin to spurt. He pulled back to taste it, swirling his tongue around the fat, pulsing girth of his lover as he sucked Fox dry.
He lay for a moment, arms around Mulder's thighs, inhaling the scent of this man he needed so badly. Then, as Fox's hand tightened in his hair to tug sharply, he crept up to lie against the other man, plunging his tongue deep into Fox's mouth to share with him the taste of his own fluids. Alex's own cock butted up against Mulder's flat stomach as he writhed and twisted against him urgently.
Mulder held him tightly, sucking on his tongue, hands pulling him in hard before breaking the kiss to say, shortly, "Fuck me."
And he drew his knees up as he spread his legs wide, inviting the ultimate intimacy. Alex moaned helplessly and looked around for lube, then rolled to grab the small bottle of eye drops that went with Mulder's contact lenses.
"If it doesn't blind you, it won't castrate me," he muttered as he stroked it onto his cock, centering it ready to push into Fox before he exploded. There was a moment of resistance that made both of them wince, and then suddenly he was in past the barrier, flying, everything forgotten save only the heat and tightness and the shimmering sensations that were flashing through him.
Fox wrapped his long legs around Alex's back and was clinging to him, his head flung back as he cried out wordlessly. Alex looked down at him and lost himself in the vague, hazel gaze. He dropped his head to lie along Fox's shoulder and bit, not even knowing he did so as the sensations that pulsed through him flickered, blossomed and burst, and he lost himself, barely hearing Fox scream as he came again, his cock mashed between their two bodies.
He couldn't talk; he could only hang on and grate out Fox's name as everything turned molten, and he sank deep, deep into Fox, emptying himself out until he lay, drained, limp and totally unable to move himself.
When finally he and Mulder came apart, it was to lie together, arms around each other as Alex pillowed his head on Fox's shoulder, there to sleep.
Screams woke him. He sat bolt upright, his nerves jangling, and tried to get his head together. The sun shone gold through the window, illuminating the pale limbs and sweat-sheened face of his new lover. Fox was sleeping still, but the sweat of total panic beaded his forehead as he struggled against whatever dream possessed him. Alex went to the bathroom and found a washcloth, moistened it and returned quickly to sit beside Fox and bathe his troubled face.
When Fox awoke, it was with a start. He was wild-eyed and confused, scooting to cower against the headboard. Alex held out his arms, whispering endearments as the apparently terrified man slowly relaxed. When finally Alex was able to hold him, feeling him gradually let go and collapse against him, Alex's husky voice wove a gentle blanket of soft words as he stroked the other man's hair.
"That must have been some nightmare, Fox-love. Do you want to tell me about it?" As gentle and loving as Alex was, Mulder still trembled in his arms, and Alex wondered again what the hell had happened to him. In the past Mulder had been at times grumpy, snarky, acid and brilliant, but he had never been afraid. Now it seemed as if fear was gradually swallowing him, and that there would be nothing left of the man he loved except for the shell of him. Alex wanted more than the shell. He would not let terror take him. He moved to sit comfortably against the headboard, pulled Fox into his arms, pillowing the tousled head against one shoulder, and settling him to rest, one hand stroking while the other traced his features, sliding like a zephyr over the eyelids, the full lips, the generous nose.
"Tell me, Fox." The whisper caressed, honey and gravel, a massage with rough edges that brought Fox back to himself a little, to cling to Alex, while Alex waited for him to speak.
"I was helpless. I could do nothing. They touched me everywhere, tested everything about me, and I couldn't stop them. They hurt me. They gave me pleasure. They made me come until it was agony and I felt as if I was turning inside out. I couldn't stop them, Alex. Hell, I never even saw them. They took me from here while I was sleeping. I don't want to sleep here any more. I don't want to be alone." The eyes that looked up at Alex were black holes into which sanity had fallen. Alex tightened his arms around Fox and drifted kisses like snowflakes over the heated face.
"Fox, sweetheart, I love you. I've loved you since the day I first met you. If you want me to help you, I will. Just tell me what you need, baby." Alex held his lover tightly and waited, his cheek laid against Fox's hair. It suddenly occurred to him that Fox might just be using him, and that once he got over his initial fear, Fox wouldn't need him any more. He closed his eyes against the threatened pain and whispered, "I love you," again fiercely against the soft hair.
"I need to be somewhere they can't find me. Help me, Alex. I trust you." He raised his head to look at Alex, and his eyes were wild.
"Trust me? Yeah, but not love me, right?" Alex's voice was carefully expressionless, and though he was holding Fox as tightly as ever, there was a subtle difference in the way his arms encircled the older man. Mulder kissed Alex, but this time Alex didn't melt into him; he remained separate, aloof, and his eyes were very bright.
"Help me, Alex. I trust you," he said again. The words were the merest thread of a whisper that Alex had to bow his head to hear. "I don't know what else I can tell you. If you love me, give me time."
Alex made several attempts at speaking before he finally managed to find words.
"You used me, didn't you? You know I would do anything for you, and you made sure I would jump to your bidding. I'm just a tool for you, aren't I?" Whatever else he had been meaning to say was lost in a sob, quickly choked off as he tossed his head in an arrogant gesture that was belied by the naked agony in his eyes.
"No. You mustn't think that. I would still be in the hospital if it weren't for you. Alex." He put out a hand to pull Alex around to face him. "Alex, I just can't tell you that I love you right now. I can't feel anything except afraid. Give me some time. Please give me some time." Mulder had his forehead leaned against Alex's chest, and after a minute Alex dropped his own head until he could lay his lips against Mulder's hair once more.
"What do you want from me?" He was still quiet, his voice in jags and splinters as he tried to supersede the pain he was feeling.
"Don't leave me, Alex. Don't let them get me again. I'll give you anything you want. Let me come with you." Fox sounded truly irrational. Alex sighed.
"Anything I want except for the thing I want more than anything. Oh, well, okay, Fox, we'll try. I know it's not really your fault. I'll go and see Skinner and see what I can arrange." Mulder leapt up, instantly. "I have to come with you. Don't leave me, Alex." And Alex shrugged and smiled before placing a kiss in the hollow of Mulder's neck.
"In that case, you'd better get dressed."
The Hoover Building was mostly empty on a Sunday afternoon, and the two men had no trouble parking. Alex was slightly ahead of Fox as they entered the building and headed to the security gate. He smiled a greeting to the guard who was attending it.
"Good afternoon, Agent Krycek, Agent Mulder." Alex passed through, and Fox made to follow him. As he did so, the metal detector embedded in the gateway squawked at him, making him jump. Alex turned back in confusion, and Fox, in his jeans and T-shirt, looked appalled. He passed in and out of the gate once more, each time triggering the alarm and finally settled in front of the security guard with a puzzled frown. "Check me out, sure." The guard grinned at him apologetically before running the wand over his long, lean body. Nothing. nothing again, and then as the wand passed across the back of Mulder's neck, it shrilled. The guard drew it away and tried once more. The same thing happened.
"You got a steel plate in your skull or something?" The guard was smiling as he spoke, but Mulder was upset, and it showed.
"Not last time I looked. What do you want me to do?" The guard shrugged. "I don't think you're a threat to national security, Agent Mulder, or no more than usual anyway. Go on in."
As the two walked away through the corridors, Mulder was muttering. Finally, he grabbed Alex's wrist.
"Come with me, Alex? I have to find out what the hell this is." Alex, no proof against the wide-eyed, plaintive expression, sighed and nodded. Together they turned and went down to the lab that was buried in the depths of the Hoover building.
They found Agent Brian Pendrell in the lab as usual even though it was Sunday. Alex knew he was mourning the departure of Dana Scully and wondered if the little man ever went home. He looked tired, and somehow hangdog, although he quickly brightened up when Mulder and Alex explained just what had happened. Some 30 minutes later Brian had excised a small, square metal fragment from the back of Mulder's neck, and the three of them were studying it through the aegis of a microscope. Alex spoke first.
"What the hell is that thing?" Brian slowly turned to him, his face a study in sheer astonishment.
"I've never seen anything like it before. If you'd asked me, I'd have said you can't make anything like that yet. It just isn't possible with today's technology." Brian shook his head in good-humored amazement. "Trust you, Mulder. You always manage to find something weird."
Touching his hand to the square of gauze Brian had taped to the small incision in the back of his neck, Mulder thanked the small technician, and the two of them left the lab, the metal fragment resting carefully in a glass phial.
As they reached Skinner's office, Mulder moved closer to Alex and took his hand. A swift glance showed Alex that he was afraid, frightened enough to tremble and then cling to Alex.
"What is it, Fox? There's nothing to be afraid of." His words had no apparent effect on the other man, who put out a hand to Alex in supplication. Alex stopped and pulled Fox around to face him. He felt confused and more than a little exasperated by Mulder's behavior. He searched the anxiety-ridden man's face and then clucked his tongue, pulling Fox in against him and holding him close right there in the corridors of power. He closed his eyes for a moment, uttering a heartfelt prayer that nobody would come along and see them like that, then he didn't think anything any more because Fox was kissing him again, and it took every last ounce of conscious effort not to fall over.
When at last Fox seemed to get himself together, Alex was feeling as if he needed a holiday himself. He grabbed Mulder's arm somewhat more violently than was strictly necessary and hauled him into Skinner's office.
Skinner was sitting behind his desk pushing paper around, just as Alex had known he would be.
This building is full of people who have no lives. Please let me have a life. He glanced back at Fox, who was pale but apparently over his panic attack of a few minutes earlier.
The AD was clad for a Sunday in casual shirt and jeans instead of his usual sharp suit and tie. He looked up with interest at the intruders.
"Hello, I thought you were in the hospital, Agent Mulder." He pushed his glasses back up his nose and surveyed the two agents. "What can I do for you?" Mulder stood, looking lost as the Assistant Director surveyed him. He turned imploringly to Alex, and as the pause grew uncomfortable, Alex finally spoke up.
"Sir, Agent Mulder has been through a lot, and he's finding it a little hard to adjust to the fact that Agent Scully could be his enemy. It seems to be preventing him from adjusting to what's happened to him. Is there any way he can trace her? He has some questions to ask. He wants to move too. It's not a comfortable thought that he is sleeping somewhere from which he's been abducted once with ease. We wondered if you'd be able to help, sir." Mulder was gazing in gratitude at his companion, and Alex felt his insides turn buttery and soft as the shrewd eyes seemed to shine lovingly at him.
"We've been looking for Agent Scully ourselves. She's vanished completely. It's felt that someone is concealing her. Interesting that Duane Barry has reappeared, though." Skinner's words produced a gasp from Mulder, who was finally spurred to break his silence.
"Where is he? He might be able to shed some light on my own disappearance, sir." Mulder's face had taken on the typical look of concentration that presaged his immersion in the sifting of facts and weighing of evidence. Alex relaxed a little, feeling that Mulder's reaction to the news was a positive thing, even as he began to understand that Mulder in full 'Sherlock' mode would be far too busy theorizing to put out. Dismissing his thoughts as unworthy, Alex moved around the desk to join Mulder as he stood behind Skinner, studying the report on Duane Barry's reappearance.
Mulder appeared to be functioning again, and Alex was torn between wanting him to continue his recent clinging and wishing he were back to normal again. Not wanting to destroy the mood, he had gone to fetch the car and waited at the ramp for his partner to finish his examination of the facts and come down to join him.
When at last he appeared, Alex was relieved to see that he seemed focused and confident once more. Together they headed for the George Washington Memorial Hospital, and it didn't seem strange. Mulder's presence there that morning had been forgotten, albeit temporarily.
Alex knew his Mulder and saw that he was now showing all the signs that he had been swallowed whole by a mystery and prepared himself mentally for the hours to come, knowing that Mulder would become increasingly moody and cantankerous until the case was solved.
As they pulled up in the parking lot they had left behind scant hours before, Alex turned to touch Mulder's cheek.
"I'm so glad you're feeling better." Mulder nestled his cheek against the hand for one brief moment, and Alex saw softness in his eyes, but then, too soon, it was gone behind the shield he habitually wore, and the Mulder persona was firmly back in place as the senior agent moved to unfasten his seat belt.
Mulder didn't wait for Alex to lock up, setting off with long strides towards the main doors. Alex bit back a mutter of frustration as he jogged to catch up with him, a frustration only part way mollified by the quick, shame-faced grin his partner flashed him.
He didn't slow down.
The room where they found Duane Barry was almost identical to the one in which Mulder had lain and from which he had checked out that very day. The difference lay in the fact that there was an armed policeman at the door, and once inside, it was apparent that Barry had been cuffed to the side of the bed. Mulder swore at him and strode forward, intent on grabbing him and shaking him into wakefulness without giving it any thought at all.
Following close on his lover's heels, Alex placed a hand on the other man's shoulder, tugging him backwards and turning him to meet his eyes.
"Mulder? Fox? Don't. Whatever you went through, he went through too. Look at him." Mulder, who had snarled angrily at Alex, slowly exhaled, and Alex watched as his shoulders relaxed.
"I'm sorry. I guess I'm still not on an even keel. What can we do, Alex? Help me." Alex could see that Barry was exhibiting the same kind of coma he had seen in Mulder the previous day.
"It's not that easy, Fox, he's not just sleeping. You weren't either. He looks as if he's been sucked dry somehow. I don't think you'd have come back if I hadn't been there. He." he indicated the sleeping man. "He's alone."
Together, they studied Barry. The purple smudges under his eyes looked like bruises, and the rough hair was grayer than it had been the last time Alex had seen him. The unnatural pallor of his face made his dark whiskers stand out like streaks of soot on his jowls, and his chest was barely moving.
"You looked like that. I don't think you'd have come back at all if I hadn't been there, calling you." Alex spoke softly, and Mulder's shoulders hunched defensively.
"What are you saying, Krycek? You think I should sit here and hold his hand? I don't think so." Alex shook his head and then went to sit beside the comatose Barry. "Come on, Duane. We need you here. Mulder made it back. You can, too."
With a sigh, Mulder grabbed the other chair and went to sit beside his lover, slipping an arm around his shoulders as he did so.
"You're too nice, baby." Alex gave him a quick smile and ducked his head to rest it on Mulder's shoulder. Mulder turned, planting a series of tiny kisses on Alex's ear and neck before tipping the other man's chin up with finger and thumb to capture his lips, slowly turning to seal their two mouths together and sliding his tongue in to taste the moist recesses. Alex's breath gasped out in a rush as he gave himself up to the kiss, his one hand smoothing the silky skin beneath Mulder's sweatshirt, while the other raised itself to stroke Mulder's cheek before fastening itself into the springy hair as he melted against Mulder.
Each kiss deeper than the last, the two of them were completely absorbed in each other, hands touching, patting and fondling as they lapped and sucked at each other. Mouth and neck, ears, throat. there was no part they didn't bruise with their lips, nip at or nuzzle. For Alex, being with this man he loved was an amazing sensation. The feeling of Mulder's hands on hi s skin raised fiery prickles of delight where they traced. Alex moaned softly, the two of them thoroughly engrossed, each with the other.
The groan from the man in the bed made the two of them jump apart guiltily. All lovemaking suddenly pushed to one side, the two of them leaned forward to inspect their patient. Duane Barry had opened his eyes and was casting about him wildly, utterly unsure of where he was and what was happening.
"Mr. Mulder, what am I doing here?" Wild eyes showed black on white. On his face there showed no vestige of color.
"You were found, Duane, same as me. They brought us both here." Mulder's voice was unexpectedly soft. Alex rubbed his back gently as he spoke and listened, waiting.
"They got you? That's too bad. I tried to give them the bitch instead, but it was always you they wanted." His voice faltered. "Did they hurt you? I couldn't stop them."
Mulder leaned forward to pat Barry's hand, as much to his own surprise as anything else.
"Is there anything I can get you?" Duane Barry appeared confused at this promise of assistance.
"Why are you helping me?" The man lay, greasy hair spiking and whisker stained cheeks pale. Alex felt a rush of sympathy for him but was unprepared for Mulder's sudden answer.
"Because we're the same, Duane. They've used us both, and they don't care. Because I want to even the score a little." Barry's face relaxed slightly as he heard the reply.
"I'm really, really thirsty, Mr. Mulder. I could use a drink." Alex moved instantly to the tumbler and jug that sat on the counter in the corner, pouring water and passing it to Mulder. Barry attempted to raise his hand and only then discovered that he was restrained. He gave a cry, and Mulder looked around for the keys. When they weren't immediately apparent, Mulder shrugged angrily and sat on the edge of the bed to slide an arm under Duane Barry's shoulders and raise him up so he could drink. He drained the glass and asked for more, sucking down the liquid as if he were parched.
Finally he allowed his head to fall back, and Mulder moved away.
"We've got to get you out of these cuffs, Duane. You shouldn't be in custody. They did it to you." Alex blinked a little.
"Mulder, he held people hostage. He kidnapped Scully." His voice was quiet, but the man turned to him, eyes glittering, impenetrable as he stared at his lover.
"Alex, it's okay. Go see if you can find the person with the keys, won't you?" Alex stood looking dubiously at Mulder for another beat and then moved to the door, leaving the room.
When he finally returned, key in hand, he couldn't see the guard who had been stationed by Duane's door. Nervously, he pushed it open and listened for a minute before entering the room.
Crossing the threshold, at first he thought there was no one in the room. The bathroom door was closed, and the covers had been pulled back on the bed.
He must have gone into the bathroom. Where's Mulder? It's not like him to leave. Alex moved over to the bed and then froze. Fox Mulder lay on the floor, unconscious or dead; at first, he wasn't sure which. With a muttered curse, he raced to the fallen man, dropping to his knees to check for vital signs. The sluggish ooze of blood from a wound he had yet to find was slowly pooling around his shoulders.
There was a bruise on his head, showing just above his right eyebrow, and his breath was shallow. At last, Alex located the source of the bleeding.
Mulder had a shallow furrow along the side of his head, a little above his ear, and his scalp was torn. The bleeding appeared almost to have stopped, and even as Alex watched, Mulder's eyelids flickered and opened.
He sat up with a jerk, his hand pressed to the side of his head.
"Where's Duane Barry?" He turned towards Alex and gasped at the pain that turning his head involved. Alex put an arm around him and began to dab at the blood that soaked him.
"Not here. What happened, Mulder? I was only gone for a couple of minutes." The crease at the top of his nose indicated his perplexity.
Mulder gazed at him with stunned eyes, his face a picture of misery.
"Scully. She was here almost straight after you left. I was talking to Duane Barry and didn't even turn around. I thought you'd forgotten something and come back for it. She told me to back away, and when I turned around to talk to her, she shot me." Mulder seemed shocked at the very thought of it, and Alex shivered as he recalled the last conversation he had shared with Mulder's partner - former partner, he corrected himself.
Standing back from his lover, he allowed Mulder to get shakily to his feet.
"Gotta clean up, hold on a minute." He stumbled towards the bathroom door. Alex could see that he was rocky on his feet and moved to support him. As the bathroom door creaked open, Alex had a moment of strange premonition. He sensed a wrongness that threatened to overwhelm him. He tried to pull Mulder back, away from the door, but to no avail.
Duane Barry lay in the bathtub. His face showed that he had found peace at last. His lips were curved in a smile, but his throat had been cut, and he lay, his smile contented, in a world where there was no pain. His blood was everywhere. The missing guard from the door of the room sat on the lowered lid of the toilet, slumped into a corner as if he had been tossed there haphazardly by a giant hand. His face was a bloody ruin.
Standing behind Mulder, Alex felt the exact second when realization as to who must have done this dawned on Mulder. He began to tremble, and Alex felt him crumple, even as he pulled him around to lead him away from the scene.
"Come on, baby. You don't need to see this." Alex led the devastated man back into the bedroom and settled him back into a chair where he sat, blank-faced, uncomprehending. Dropping to his knees, Alex took Mulder's face between the palms of his hands and moved forward, until he was nose to nose with his lover.
"You've got to snap out of it, Fox. You don't know where she is, but she could come back any time." Mulder slowly focused on his face, and Alex brushed a kiss onto his slack lips before moving back to sit on his heels.
"Scully, she." Mulder's eyes were bright with grief. "Alex, I trusted her. Why would she do this?" The voice was bleak. Alex, who had no ready answer, merely shook his head, sliding his hands down to encircle Mulder's shoulders. Mulder slumped forward to lean against Alex, his shoulders heaving.
All Alex could do was stroke his neck and murmur nonsense that was intended to soothe him. He pressed his lips into the other man's neck and rocked him slowly.
Time dripped like molasses. Uneasy feelings hung in the air of the room, causing the two of them to cower unconsciously inwards. The sounds of the hospital echoed down endless caverns before it reached them. Mulder wept, first for the sister he had lost, and then for that other more-than-sister in whom he had placed all of his trust and who had betrayed him.
The storm was finally passing. Alex was fumbling in his pocket for his phone to start the arduous process of sorting out the mess, when the door, only slightly ajar, pushed open, and Scully suddenly appeared, a half smile on her face as she surveyed the tableau made by the grieving Mulder and his lover.
"Well, this is a pretty picture." She addressed Alex, her voice mocking. "You seem to have taken up the baton quite admirably. I leave him in your capable hands. I could never have fucked him without gagging."
Mulder's head jerked up at the sound of her voice, and he would have risen to his feet if Alex hadn't kept both arms around him, holding him down in his chair.
"Scully, why? How could you do this to me? How could you betray me?" Mulder's voice came, shattered, from the depths of his soul. Alex could hear the misery he was suffering as though it was a blanket that piled down suffocating them, crushing them with grief.
"Mulder, you think everything is about you, don't you? It was never about you. Why don't you just butt out and go be happy with poster-boy here?" Her words were scathing, and Alex looked at the small figure incredulously. She stood, small, erect and icy. Her demeanor radiated contempt.
"Sc. I loved you. You were my sister. " The plea in his voice was unmistakable. A cold smile crossed the tiny woman's face, and she rolled her eyes.
"No thanks. You were useful to me for a while, but I don't need you any more. I'd just as soon kill you as let you live, so don't try my patience, Mulder."
Alex surveyed the small, vital creature. She was clad in blue jeans and a sweatshirt. Her hand held a small, serviceable pistol, and it was trained on the two of them.
"Dana, can we talk about this? What is it that you need?" Cool blue eyes met heated green, and again the mocking grin appeared.
"We don't need to talk. I told you before, he's all yours. Take him and welcome." She gave a little, sarcastic bow, and then appeared to have a thought. "But first." She gestured to him with the gun. "Step away from him."
Alex hesitated, suddenly sure that she intended to kill his new found love.
"Back off, Krycek, or I'll shoot you both." Fox gave him a little push, and he moved back reluctantly to stand against the wall at the head of the bed. "Keep your hands where I can see them, both of you."
She gestured with her gun again, indicating that Mulder was to stand up. As he did so, her attention was drawn to him for just long enough that Alex managed to palm the knife he kept in a sheath along his forearm. He held it, pressed up against his wrist, and waited.
"Duane Barry has something of mine around his neck. Go and get it for me, Mulder." Mulder glared at her but started for the bathroom while Scully tossed her head and grinned sardonically.
As he reached the door of the bathroom, Mulder turned back towards her, intent on remonstrating with her. Alex could see that it was his last chance to halt whatever she was trying to do. As Scully jerked her gun up, he threw his knife.
There was a flash of silver as it flew across the room and it caught Scully's attention. She half turned and the knife that would have taken her in the heart buried itself in her left breast instead.
The sound of the gun discharging was deafening, and everything slowed down as Scully crumpled and fell. Alex raced towards her, ready to subdue her if need be, but she had slumped, white faced against the wall, her hand pressed to the wound as she subsided.
As Mulder stood, gaping, Alex took advantage of the confusion to secure her to one of the water pipes that ran along the skirting board with his cuffs. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he was in the act of summoning Skinner when the door was forced open and several of the hospital staff entered the room, having heard the sound of the gunfire.
There was a brief period of confusion whilst people milled, shouting and getting in the way. After a minute of total blank amazement, Mulder took charge, yelling for quiet while Alex completed his phone call.
As the two agents bundled the crowd out of the room, Alex noticed that his cuffs lay open and empty on the floor. Scully was gone.
Examining Duane Barry, Mulder discovered the small gold cross Scully had habitually worn, hanging about his neck. The body was taken away shortly thereafter, and the FBI had moved in to inspect the murder site and argue with the local police. Skinner accompanied the two tired men back to Alex's car.
"What do you think Scully's reason for killing Duane Barry could be?" Skinner's face was mask-like. He was finding the whole thing difficult to take in. He had been sweet on Dana Scully for some time, and the thought that she had been working for some kind of black ops group had shaken him to his core.
"I'm not sure, sir, but I'll find out." Mulder spoke quickly, and then caught sight of Alex's face. "We'll find out, sir. Alex and I." And Alex felt at last that he and Mulder had become partners. Life would be different from now on.
They were a team.
End
| Back to My Stories –|– Email Dr. Ruthless |
