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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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2020-11-04
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It was a dark and stormy night...

Summary:

Feedback: Why, yes, thank you!
Category: slash, hurt/comfort
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Add pouring rain for days to a dark and story night. And a fast car. Oops?
Archive: Make Believe. All else, ask, I usually share.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never were, I have no money.
Notes: Lorelei thinks I should be writing this story, so here I am. You'll like it, I promise. My Alex has two arms, and that's how he is, no explanation as to why. It's not pertinent to the story.
Submitted through the kryceklovers mailing list. This list can no longer approve new members posts, please join us at Krycek_Lovers

Work Text:

It was a dark and stormy night...
by Amazon X

Walter rushed into the busy hospital, past the families waiting, past the security, straight to the desk for information. "You have a patient here, a John Doe, car accident. He was driving..."

"Slow down, sir. Is this person a relative?" The nurse at the desk was sweet, creamy brown skin just the right shade that Walter couldn't tell what her background was. She smiled, eyes twinkling. Moving to Vancouver, Canada, was the smartest thing they'd ever done. The woman exuded a certain quality. It was something he'd never have seen in Washington DC, kindness.

"He's my husband. We fought, he went for a drive to calm down, forgot his wallet...where is he?"

She began typing information into her computer while Walter babbled on. She held her hand up to quiet him. "Your name, please?"

"Walter Skinner. Is he here?"

"There was a man brought in. Can you describe him physically for me?" Her smile was genuine. He knew she wanted to help, but she also wanted keep her patient safe.

"He's about 6'1", dark hair, almost black, green eyes, well built..."

"That's him. Can you give me his name, please? I would like to at least enter that information. Once you're upstairs, they'll ask you for the rest of the information."

"Krycek, Alex Krycek." He spelled the last name, as no one ever got it right. She handed him a visitor's pass and he raced to the elevator, third floor, east wing. He made it to the ICU and was stopped in front of an unmanned nurse's station. They were all behind the large desk, attending to the patients in the unit. Walter looked inside, adjusting his glasses to account for the glare, and saw him lying there, attached to tubes and wires, face half covered by a massive bruise. Unable to contain himself, Walter covered his mouth, stopping the gasp from escaping. He'd seen accidents in his time, seen bodies that survived, and didn't, horrible accidents. He couldn't deal with the one in the accident being the man he loved.

It was a stupid argument. Did it really matter if Alex wanted to get a larger television? Was it so bad that he would need to take down a wall and rebuild it so that they could hang the flat panel television there? It didn't even seem like it mattered anymore. A nurse came out when she saw Walter cover his mouth.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"The John Doe. He's my husband, Alex. Krycek. I let them know downstairs. The name should be..." The nurse began typing on the computer and nodded. "Great. Why don't I show you in..."

And from there he was shown Alex, told about the accident, how the drunk driver slammed into him and sent the car spinning. He hit a lamppost, one of the beautiful posts in Gastown, and it crashed down on the car. The fire department used the Jaws of Life to cut him free. Vancouver General was the closest hospital with a trauma center capable of caring for him. He was so pale, due to blood loss. Usually, he was a vibrant tan, with rose blooms in his cheeks. Walter could barely hold himself up and the nurse just got the chair under him.

"Is he going to be OK?" Walter asked, reaching for Alex's hand.

"The doctor is in another surgery...I...we don't know. He's lost a lot of blood. His femur has a hairline fracture, and thankfully didn't need surgery. His shoulder was dislocated from the seatbelt. He's going to need a lot of healing time. But his head wound is the most troubling. If the swelling in his brain doesn't go down, we may have to perform surgery to alleviate the swelling. I'm very sorry, sir."

"Yes, thank you. I'm sorry to...I'll be fine. I...there's paperwork I must fill out for him, isn't there?"

The nurse smiled and handed Walter the clipboard full of papers for him to fill out. He took the pen, and with a long last look at his beloved, he filled in all the forms. It was difficult to concentrate and keep his hand from shaking, but Walter gave all the information to the nurse, who took the clipboard from him, then handed him a cup of coffee. "This is much better than the garbage in the cafeteria and the swill in the machine in the hall. Relax and rest. With the adrenalin rush over, it's going to be a long night."

Walter nodded. There was a burst of thunder, flashing lightning through the large set of windows on the other side of the ICU. The rain pounded the windows. There wasn't supposed to be rain that night, nor thunder and lightning. It was supposed to be a clear, quiet night. Walter had wanted to watch the baseball game, Yankees at Seattle. It was supposed to be a quiet night. All Alex needed to do was to leave it until the morning. Yes, the television was small, if forty inches could be considered small. Yes, it took up a large space in the living room. Did that warrant a fight at eight o'clock at night?

It didn't matter any more. It was Walter's fault, for telling Alex if he didn't like the house the way it was, he could leave. Walter had taken pride when he found that house. It was perfect for two men, needed some work, lots of yard, large carport for a wood working shop. Alex could use the basement for his electronics hobby. All Walter wanted was for Alex to stop arguing about the wall and sit down for the game. The wall was fine the way it was, and they didn't need a 130-pound television hanging on the wall, and they didn't need to take the whole wall down and rebuild it to support the television.

It didn't matter anymore. Walter took Alex's hand and held it, pressing gentle kisses to the palm, ignoring the IV spike in the back. Walter thought to the night he'd convinced Alex to move away from DC, which didn't take much convincing. A well-done blowjob and teasing during afterglow piqued Alex's curiosity about the house that Walter had seen on the Internet. Walter had taken his retirement seriously. He had a stack of books he wanted to read. There was a pile of wood in the garage to be made into various and sundry toys and furniture for family and friends. And most important, he wanted to write about his time in the FBI, about his dealings with the Consortium and how he finally helped rid the world of the alien threat.

"You know, Alex, I keep expecting Mulder to call me and tell me he's going to be writing the books. All the X-Files cases. I don't think he wants that. If he does, I won't fight him. But all the files are stored in the basement. It would be a shame to let them go to waste like that, wouldn't it?"

The heart monitor continued its electronic rhythm, reminding Walter Alex was still alive. He didn't like looking at the pipe taped to Alex's mouth, keeping him breathing. Walter was thankful it wasn't a tracheotomy, which left an ugly scar. Alex had enough ugly scars on his body, and his soul, and didn't need more. The free hand brushed stray hair from Alex's forehead. He felt warm. There were plenty of bags feeding into one of the many IVs in Alex's hands and arms.

"When we go home, I'm going to take the best care of you. We're going to see if the bedroom wall can support a flat screen, too. I'm sure we can get one with a support arm to attach to a stud. And I'm sure we can do that with the living room. I should have listened to you."

For the next four hours, Walter sat talking to Alex. He mentioned getting pets, a dog or a cat, whatever Alex wanted, fish or hamsters. Alex had been talking about buying a hybrid car, and Walter pledged to buy it for him. When the sun was starting to rise, Walter went to the window, to see that the rain wasn't going to stop. The cloud cover blocked what Walter knew was probably a beautiful sunrise. Alex loved morning lovemaking, and it would be a long time before that would happen. His leg was broken. And his shoulder was dislocated.

Walter sat back and envisioned having to care for Alex, baths and toileting. It wouldn't be easy. Alex would feel humiliated. He was a strong and proud man. Walter always figured he'd be the one needing a diaper change and a sponge bath in his old age. He never suspected he'd need to do it for his young, healthy lover. Then again, it wasn't going to be for long. Knowing Alex, he would be out of bed and up and around long before his doctor would allow it.

Said doctor walked into the room and brought Walter from his reverie. He stood and when the doctor was done reviewing the notes on the chart, he shook Walter's hand. "Mr. Skinner, your husband is looking much better."

With a deep breath, Walter finally ventured a smile. "How much better than..."

"Death? It's not likely. Now, anything is possible..."

"You sure you want to be this negative?" Walter asked, letting the old visage of the assistant director visit his features.

"I'm sure you're not a man I can bullshit and give false hope to. I just want you aware that we are cautiously hopeful. His pressure is lower, his brain function is normal..."

"How do you know all this?" Walter asked, standing to look the doctor in the eye. The man was not as tall as Walter, a first-born son of immigrants from Hong Kong, probably. And he was as brave as any man Walter had met.

"Mr. Skinner, the two times I came in to examine Mr. Krycek, you were fast asleep. I didn't have the heart to wake you, and I didn't need his left hand for my exam. He's doing well. I suggest you recline that chair, get a few more hours of sleep, then start talking to him again. You may as well stay here, considering it's still raining. It would probably take you a while to get home and back. You can use the doctor's shower room, and we can give you scrubs and send your clothes to the laundry, if you like. Let the head nurse know."

Walter nodded. Very nice, indeed. He decided to stay, watching over Alex, watching his breathing. His eyes were still, and Walter didn't like that. Alex was an active dreamer, still suffering from the occasional violent nightmare. This would probably fuel more nightmares for a long time to come.

Walter's mind wandered to the lazy days they'd spent at Whistler that last winter. They went to catch a few runs one day, stay over night and travel home the next evening. They didn't count on getting snowed in. It wasn't a problem, as both men just went back to their room and started a big fire in the hearth. Clothes were strewn about the floor, and Alex made Walter get the room service, since he didn't feel like putting a robe on long enough to greet the bellman. They spent four days there, and both men needed the last day just to recover fluids.

Walter's memory flowed into the beach vacations and the weeks they spent in Europe. The nude beach in Crete, the museums and churches they visited, to commune with art. Walter was new to it, but Alex had spent many days and nights in the cities of Europe, recuperating from his life as an assassin. Walter just listened as Alex relayed the histories of towns and villages, speaking to the people there in their native tongues. Walter was impressed by Alex's linguistic skills.

A sudden clang of a dropped tray woke Walter from his nap. He hadn't intended to go to sleep, but it pulled him down while he was thinking about their time together. Walter pulled his glasses off to rub his eyes and heard, "Can you keep it down? Some people are trying to sleep."

It was faint and scratchy, but it was most definitely Alex. Walter fumbled his glasses back into place and sat up. He looked down at his smiling lover.

"Hi, handsome," Walter said. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, about half past assbeat." Walter chuckled. It was something his own father always said, which in turn was something that he would say. Alex tried valiantly, but it slipped into the man's lexicon and could not be shaken.

"Well, you look a little pale, and you have a bruise on your cheek. But other than that, you're as beautiful as ever." There was an awkward silence, and Walter took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry, Alex. We never should have argued."

"I know. And...I could hear you." Alex paused to take a breath. "We'll work it out at home. Just...let's not do this again."

Walter kissed Alex's forehead and stepped back for the doctor who came over. After preliminary exams, the doctor's cautious optimism won out and he informed the men that Alex's blood pressure was stable and the brain swelling was gone. Walter decided that he didn't care if he was still wearing the same clothes from the day before.

"Walt, go on home. I'll be OK," Alex rasped out.

"Are you kidding? I wanna watch them give you a sponge bath. I love seeing you naked."

The smile spread slowly across Alex's face. "Dirty old man," was all he said before closing his eyes. Walter smiled and pressed a warm kiss to Alex's not-as-warm-as-it-was forehead. He went to the charge nurse and told her that he was going home to shower and change and he would be back in an hour. She assured him if Alex awoke, she would tell him where Walter had gone.

He drove back to the house in Alex's car, thinking about the trials ahead that they would have to face. It was not going to be easy by a long shot. Alex was never a good patient. Walter knew the only reason that he was being as good as he was because he was still very tired from being hurt. Pain takes energy. Once Alex regained full consciousness, he would not be a fun patient. They would pay Walter to take him home.

He smiled at that thought and drove Alex's car very carefully. Alex didn't take it because Walter had parked behind him in the driveway. It annoyed Alex when he did that, instead of pulling the car onto the grass or on the street in front of the house. It didn't matter, as Alex had said at the hospital.

The rain was stopping, and just as Walter turned into the driveway, a rainbow fell behind the house in the sky. He stopped at the curb, looked up and sat back, air rushing from his lungs. It was a sign, Walter was sure of it. There's always something good at the end of the rainbow.

The End

Happy Spring!