In The Hours After Death

Author:Lady Midath

Disclaimer:I don't own them, CC and Ten Thirteen do

Pairing: Mulder/Krycek, sorta

Rating:R

Archive:Please do

Spoilers:Existence

Summary: What happens to us when we die?

Warning:Death fic, if this is not your thing, please don't read on

Written for the Cube's Dead/Alive challenge

In The Hours After Death
by Lady Midath

I watched frozen with horror as the bullet cut through the air and slammed home into the middle of my forehead.

And that was the last that I knew.

Black. Everything was black, then fading to a shiny surreal gray. The gray finally clears and I find myself standing here, in the middle of...

I'm not sure where.

Slowly I look around, taking in the strange surroundings. A room very much like my uncle's study. Leather bound books line the walls and I noticed the familiar Turkish rug on the floor. Over near the window sits the large walnut desk with the gold and ebony fountain pen and matching inkwell. I glance over at the fire place. Someone had lit the kindling and now a cheery fire blazes, the flames licking around the blackening log, throwing warm shadows over the walls.

I shake my head in disbelief. I can't be standing here in my uncle's study. He has been dead for over ten years now. The house and all his belongings had been sold off long ago.

As if in a dream, I walk over to the desk and run my hand over the surface. It was exactly as I remember it. The wood, silken with age and polish.

"I can't be here." I whisper. "It's impossible."

"Why is it impossible Alexei?"

Whirling around, I found myself facing a stooped old man. He smiled at me, watery blue eyes warm with welcome.

"Uncle Dmitri?"

"You were expecting someone else maybe?" Dmitri made his way over to one of the old fashioned wing backed armchairs and settled himself down.

"Come Alexei, sit down and spend some time with an old man."

I sat myself in the other chair, gazing at the face of my beloved uncle, the man who raised me after the death of both of my parents. He returned my gaze steadily, obviously waiting for me to speak.

"What am I doing here Uncle?"

Dmitri shrugged. "To be honest little one, I am not sure. Why do you ask?"

"Well I'm dead." I began, my voice soft in the closed quiet room. "So shouldn't I be..."

"With dead people?" Dmitri chuckled, shaking his head. "But of course Alexei, here you are with me. And I am glad to be seeing my nephew once more. After all it has been such a long time."

I nodded, feigning understanding.

"Do you know why you are here Alexei?"

"No." I finally admit.

Another chuckle, then Dmitri replied. "No, of course not, why would you. You see my darling nephew, you have committed many wrongs in the world. You dear boy are the proverbial sheep that strayed from the flock." He wags his finger at me and I am a little boy once more, waiting for a scolding.

Then the full import of what he says hits me and I feel a cold weight settle in the pit of my stomach. "Does that mean I'm going to hell?"

"Hell?" Dmitri glared at me from under his bushy eyebrows. "What is this hell. There is no hell, only the other..."

I felt a frown crease my forehead. "The other?"

"The other place of existence my boy." Dmitri replied. "That's where all souls go while they wait to be reborn.

"Reborn." I echoed. Dmitri nodded slowly. "Do you think that you are only given one life Alexei? No, we are born over and over, living out our lives in the corporeal world. Until that life is over, then we begin again."

"Uncle, none of this is making sense." I replied lifting my hands helplessly.

"Look Alexei." Dmitri said leaning forward slightly. "Down at you hands."

Stunned I lifted both my hands up in front of my face.

"See how you have been restored?"

Speechless I nodded. My left hand was whole once more, the prosthetic-gone.

"There." He nodded again, his head moving with satisfaction.

"Then Uncle tell me, why am I here?"

"Because there is still so much that you have left unfinished."

I stare down at my hands again, helpless under my uncle's relentless gaze.

"There is still one chance for you my boy."

I raise my eyes to his, hope as slender as a thread begins to rise up within me. "But how?"

Dmitri smiles at me, then he is gone and I am...

Standing in the middle of a corridor. "Dmitri?" I whisper. Then I see him.

Pounding down the corridor, legs pumping as he races towards me.

Almost by instinct I open the door.

He stares at me stunned, hazel eyes taking in the impossible, but hell Mulder you should be used to the impossible by now. You have lived cheek and jowl with it ever since the night you saw your sister taken.

"You're dead." He says and I smile.

Mulder sits in the court room staring straight ahead as Skinner argues with the judges. The men that presume to judge the one man that has done nothing but merely seek the truth.

They glare down, their faces cold and unreadable, these happy executioners. I place my hand on Mulder's shoulder. My right hand for in this world my left no longer exists.

I can feel the warmth of him under the drab orange overalls that they force him to wear.

Have strength Mulder, my Mulder. I pray silently. I think he hears me because I feel him tense slightly, then relax.

The judges have pronounced their verdict and I close my eyes with despair. Bastards, bastards all. They want to silence the truth, but haven't these old men learned by now? The truth can never be silenced.

I watch as Mulder is broken out of prison and I feel a smile of satisfaction on my face.

"Run Mulder." I whisper and he does. To whatever awaits him.

I'm free, I think, I feel as I turn and walk towards the long bright corridor that is waiting from me. Spender is dead, that much I can sense. And the Lone Gunmen. All are here and that's alright.

What life awaits me now? I wonder as I step into the bright that surrounds me. Then I am gone.

XXXXXXXXX

"He's beautiful Dana." Scully's mother croons as she hold her grandson. "He's the sweetest little thing."

Scully nods and smiles, proud of her newborn son.

"Just look at the colour of his eyes." Her mother says with a smile. "I think they might be turn out to be green."

END