The chill from the cement floor has sapped my body heat away, leaving me
unable to stop shivering. I try to relax because the shivering causes
shooting pains to flare through my body. The paper thin hospital gown does
nothing at all to protect me from the cold.
It seems like I have been in this Consortium run facility forever but in
reality it has probably only been a few months. They caught up to me in
Seattle as I was trying to board a plane to Europe. Just 15 minutes longer
and I would have escaped the country and maybe even bought myself enough
time to finally go home.
Home. I can't remember what it is like to have a home and to be surrounded
by family and friends. It seems a lifetime ago that I was recruited for this
assignment. I was only 19 and in my second year of college when I was
approached by the NSA. They spoke of honor, patriotism and adventure and I
fell for it hook, line and sinker. At the time I was excelling in school and
was thinking about attending the FBI Academy when I finished my degree in
political science so their offer seemed like a fast track to my dreams.
I don't think I truly understood the sacrifice that the fast track was going
to require until the day I died. At the age of 20 I was killed in a vehicle
accident to assume my undercover identity. Even my parents and brother
believe I am dead and I have not contacted them since. But I believed that I
was making a sacrifice for my country, the American Way and eventually even
the salvation of mankind. Shit. If I had only known then what I know now.
The chills seem to be lessening and I'm not sure if that is a good sign or
if I am finally too hypothermic to shiver. The pain is not so bad anymore so
it must be a good thing. I can hear water dripping somewhere and have to
concentrate to remember that the faucet in the sink has a leaky seal. The
room is only an 8'X 8' square with a sink, a toilet and a dirty mattress on
the floor but it has been my home for longer than I can remember. The only
time I leave is when they take me for more experiments or the punishments. I
don't want to think of that right now.
Where was I?? Oh yeah, home. Home was a place where there was warmth and
comfort, both physical and emotional. I had really great parents and a
little brother to pick on but my favorite family member has always been my
Uncle Walt. He isn't actually an uncle, more of a family friend but to me he
is family. Walter Skinner has been part of my life since my earliest
memories but it wasn't until I was 6 years old and he returned from Vietnam
that he started to become one of the most important people in my life.
I was young but I can clearly remember the haunted look in his eyes and how
frail he seemed to me. His family lived next door and I made it my duty to
look after Walt while he recovered. For some reason he let me into his
shattered world and allowed me to spend time with him. Looking back, I think
he needed someone with the innocence of a child to remind him of all that
was still good in the world. He also needed someone he could protect and
someone he could trust. He took me under his wing like the little brother he
never had and our bond was forged. Even when he got married and moved away
we remained in close contact by mail, phone and occasional visits.
He was the first person I came out to when I was only 14. I remember being
afraid to tell him and of losing his love and respect. I was shocked when he
showed up on my doorstep the next day having taken the first flight he could
manage. We went to a ball game and then we took a long walk by the
waterfront to talk. He told me that his love for me was unconditional and
also let me know that was not a freak to love another boy. I was so relieved
to realize that he was still my friend and that he understood.
I realize that I have been drifting in my memories and I don't know how much
time has passed. My remaining arm has fallen asleep from lying on it at this
awkward angle but I don't care anymore. The world is becoming fuzzier and
the pain has receded until I can almost forget the damage my body has
suffered. The punishment for the last escape attempt was severe and I'm
pretty sure that I have broken ribs and maybe some internal bleeding. At
this moment I just can't bring myself to care. I hear voices in the hallway
and close my eyes hoping that they will think I am still unconscious and
leave me alone.
When I wake up next the pain has returned full force. I still cannot feel my
arm and that scares me a bit since I will have no way to defend myself if
they come again. I don't know why I even try. Months of systematic terror
and pain have reduced my body to a near invalid state. This is worse than
losing my arm. At least when that happened I was able to go underground to
heal and Walter took care of me.
He is the only person from my past who knows who I really am. When I
finished my training and began infiltrating the Consortium my superiors
realized that I would be involved with the FBI and that Walter would
eventually find out that I was alive. To keep Walter from having a heart
attack the first time we bumped into each other and to enlist his help on
our side he was brought into the conspiracy. I will never forget the meeting
when he found out I was still alive.
The meeting was held at a private retreat house on Catalina Island. Poor
Walt! They didn't do much to prepare him, just dropped him off at my room
and left me to fill him in on the details. At first he didn't believe it was
me but I knew things that only we would know and he came to believe. We
hugged and cried for what seemed like forever. I hadn't even realized just
how much I missed him and what he means to me until that moment. After hours
spent talking and catching up, I let him know all about the conspiracy and
what my role would be at the FBI.
Since that time he has been my sanity and the only stable force in my life.
No matter how bad things get and the horrible things I have had to do, he
has always been there to support me and love me. Some days are harder than
others, especially when my assignments involve him or his people but he
knows why I have to do the things I do. The first time I had to hit him to
keep my cover almost broke me. Seeing the pain on his face and feeling his
body crumble under my fists was the worst but I knew if I pulled my punches
the whole conspiracy could be exposed. Later he contacted me and let me know
that he knew I was only doing what I had to but it still hurt us both.
He has always been here for me, the big brother I never had. Even through
the terror of the silo and the pain and depression of losing my arm. After
Tunguska he begged me to retire and come in from field work but the cause
was just too important. I didn't admit it to him then but I was afraid to
come in, afraid of what I have become. I think the nano-infection has been
the final straw though. How can I apologize for torturing and killing him? I
think in some sick way my current condition is payment for that final act. I
am here because I could not kill Walter, this is my punishment from the
Smoker.
I am suddenly dizzy and nauseous. Thankfully I keep from throwing up because
I just don't have the energy anymore to keep from drowning in my own vomit.
Isn't that a pretty picture? I wonder what Fox would think if he could see
me know.
Yes. Fox. When we were lovers he let me call him Fox at home or at the
cabin. Even though the affair was short, the vision of what we could have
been has always haunted me. Walter knew from the first time that he saw me
with Mulder that I was head over heels. We even had a very heated argument
over why I shouldn't pursue the relationship and what it could do to my
cover. But I couldn't help falling in love with the man. For all of his pig
headed, arrogant and idealistic ways, he is still the most beautiful man I
have ever met. When I finally cracked the walls he has built to protect
himself I discovered a man who had been deeply hurt but wanted so
desperately to love and be loved.
I think my betrayal was the final straw for him. Nothing dramatic like
suicide but I know for a fact that he has not let himself love or be loved
since I left. His video collection is just a way to drown out the pain of
his everyday life. I think God that at least he has Scully and Walt to care
about him.
I miss him so much. It is worse when we are thrown together because I have a
hard time keeping my facade together. I just want to hold him a kiss him and
spend long Saturday afternoons in bed with him. I should get an Academy
Award for the acting I am forced to do.
Sometimes I get so angry with him. His fucking idealism and his ignorance of
how bad it can be. Doesn't he know what they can do? What they have done?
Even with all he has seen and experienced, he still thinks that I am his
worst enemy. Oh Mulder you don't have a fucking clue. You think that you're
so smart but you don't have a fucking clue what those men up in the towers
are doing to me and you. Or should I say, have "done" to me and you. We
could have had forever and now we have nothing.
But I still love him, with everything I am. If circumstances had been
different, we could have been so happy together. We used to have this dream
of going to a little island somewhere warm and just being together. Warm
sand and glorious days making love in the sun. If only....
"Fox." I almost don't realize that I have spoken his name out loud. My voice
is barely a harsh whisper these days. I have screamed until I've lost my
voice more times than I can remember. There is no one here to listen to my
voice anyway.
My body is starting to shake again and it scares me. This is more of a
convulsion than shivering. Have they finally pushed my ability to endure to
the limit? Maybe this is the beating that I will not survive. The thought
does not scare me like I know it should, it is almost comforting. I think
now that death is the only way I will ever escape this hell hole. No one who
cares knows where I am and no one will be looking for me. Maybe they will
bury me in my empty grave back home so my parents will have something real
to mourn. What a morbid thought....
I hear voices in the hallway again so I start to once again whisper my
personal mantra. "my name is alex krycek, my name is alex krycek...." Maybe
this time I will die.
They will never break me.
Inside Job
by Don Henley/Mike Campbell
While you were sleeping
It was an inside job
It was an inside job
While you are dreaming
And it's an inside job
It was an inside job
You think that you're so smart
I know what I've done wrong
And it's and inside job
They know the road by which you came
Insect politics
It's an inside job...
Fade
by Hammerhead
I woke up a few moments ago and nothing has changed. Except maybe the pain,
it is worse this time and I can no longer feel where one injury ends and
another begins. My mind is still a bit foggy but the world is slowly
starting to come into focus. I remember my mantra and realize that it has
kept me from breaking once again.
they came and took it all away
the lanes and the meadows
the places where you used to play
by the well-connected
your little protest
summarily rejected
like it always is
chalk it up to business as usual
this little island disappears
while you are looking the other way
they'll take your right
to own your own ideas
favors collected
your trusted servants
have left you unprotected
like it always is
just chalk it up to business as usual
but you don't have a fucking clue
what those men up in the towers
are doing to me and you
and they'll keep doin' it and doin' it
and doin' it and doin' it
until we all wake up
wake up wake up wake up wake up
I am acquainted with the night
I know how hard it is
to always walk out in the light
to learn about forgiving
it's an inside job
to hang on to the joy of living
they know your mother's maiden name
and what you had for breakfast
what you've hidden in the mattress
indifferent universe
bang your head against the wall
but apathy is worse
