Title: The Box
Author: Mrs. Fish
Email address: mrs_fish@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: D/K implied
Warnings: Minor spoilers for Release; language
Status: Completed
Date: 5/6/02
Archive: No; link okay. Do not forward to any other lists or archive without permission.
Series/Sequel: No

Summary: Krycek finds something he doesn't expect.

Disclaimer: The X-Files, the series, concepts and characters, are the property, copyright and trademark of Ten Thirteen Productions, Fox, Chris Carter and others. No ownership or claim on said property, copyright or trademark is made or implied by the use in this work. This work constitutes a personal comment on the aforesaid properties pursuant to doctrines of fair use and fair comment. This work is non-commercial, not for sale or profit, and may not be sold or reproduced for commercial purposes.

Notes: In my universe, Krycek has two arms.

Notes 2: Much gratitude to Ursula for the beta.

Additional author's notes at the end of the story.

Falls Church, VA

I'm not a nosy person by nature. Curious, definitely, but I don't generally go snooping through other people's things without their permission -- unless it's a job, of course. Computer information is another matter entirely, but I'm not going to get into that right now.

When I first moved in with John, I decided I'd do my part and help with the chores -- dishes, laundry... that type of thing, and pay my share of the grocery bill. John never asked me to do any of those things, but it was only fair to him that I did. Besides, we'd done this before in New York. Not lived together; but I spent enough time at his apartment to make it seem like we did.

The first six months were awkward. First of all, we hadn't seen each other in over eight years. We only got together again because of Mulder's abduction, and the fact that I trusted John to work with me. It was John's suggestion that I move in so I'd have "a safe base of operations" from which to work. Made sense to me, so I did, even if I was gone more times than not.

Our arrangement worked well. If I was home, and had time, I cooked and did general cleaning. Of course, I wasn't averse to ordering pizza or take out either -- less dishes to wash that way. Whoever did laundry for the week always neatly folded the other person's clothes, then left them on the bed. I picked up John's dry cleaning, especially if he was out of town or working late.

Things changed slightly after John and I became lovers again. Whoever did laundry was expected to put the clothes away, no matter who they belonged to. And that's how I found it.

As I said, I respect people's property. I never went digging through John's things. Wouldn't think of doing it -- ever.

I was feeling especially generous after being thoroughly fucked the night before, so I thought I'd do something extra nice for John -- like shine his shoes. Don't ask me why I decided on that particular chore. I knew John had a shoe shine kit because I'd seen him use it. And I knew it was in his bedroom closet -- somewhere -- so I went looking for it. It wasn't on the floor, so I reached up, felt around the shelf and touched a small, wooden box. Naturally I pulled it down... and immediately felt like I'd been sucker punched. Except this was worse than when Skinner laid into me and cuffed me to his balcony.

My head spun, my knees went wobbly and I ended up dropping to the floor staring at the thing in my hands like it would rear up and bite me. Then my vision got all blurry. It wasn't until I rubbed at them that I realized I was crying. It was just a wooden box with some writing on it for Christ's sake!

I must have been sitting there for quite a while because the next thing I knew John was next to me, gently prying the box out of my hands and pulling me into a hug.

"It's okay, Alex."

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

"Shhh... You don't have anything to be sorry for."

John pulls away and lifts my chin up so I'm facing him. "You didn't know, did you?"

I shake my head no. "Why do you still have them?"

He glances down at the box now sitting on the bed and answers softly, "Because that's all I have left of him. And I can't let him go until I know... until I find..."

I wrap myself around John and hold on while he sobs into my shoulder. As he does, I can't help but look down at the box and read the words again:

Luke Doggett
January 9, 1986 - August 13, 1993.

And I make a silent vow that no matter how long it takes, I'm going to find the bastard that killed Luke and make him pay.

The end.

I was totally blown away by the fact that Doggett still had Luke's remains nine years after he'd been killed. I wanted it to be a shock to Alex as well.

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