And there fell upon men a great hail out of heaven, [every stone] about the
weight of a talent; and men blasphemed God because of the plague of hail; for
the plague thereof was exceedingly great. Leaving Mulder behind in that padded cell had been one of the hardest decisions
of her life but a necessity if she was to figure out a way to bring him back to
her. In the past she would have felt comfortable leaving him in the seemingly
safe hands of AD Skinner but now... Dana Scully took a deep breath as she
stepped from her rental onto the white sand. Skinner had lied to her. He had
revealed information that he could not possibly have obtained except through
spying on her and Mulder. How? And more importantly, why? Why had he betrayed
them? He'd always seemed such a staunch supporter albeit a silent one. He had
turned a blind eye to some of their indiscretions and oiled the wheels when they
needed something. So why had he betrayed them now?
Some small part of her believed he had a good reason. Perhaps he was trying to
protect them or perhaps he was being coerced. Whatever the case, she would be
willing to give him the benefit of the doubt; she would be willing to wait and
see.
Then there was Fowley, that bitch from hell. Double-crossing, back-stabbing...
Scully drew those thoughts to an abrupt end. She knew Fowley was a Consortium
spy—like Ratboy Krycek. If only she could have persuaded Mulder about Fowley,
but for someone who thrived on paranoia, he seemed reluctant to denounce
Scully's dark-haired rival. Frohike had tried to console her, explaining that
Fowley had once been Mrs Fox Mulder. Perhaps the love that had put a ring on her
finger had not been completely extinguished. She sighed, pushing back a strand
of hair that had flopped over her forehead and into her eyes. If only Mulder
would let go of the past then perhaps there would be a chance for them.
Scully snorted softly to herself as she strode across the sand towards the small
research station. She had fantasised about there being a them from very early
days but, despite the odd occasion when emotions had run high, he had shown no
sexual interest in her. In fact, if she had not been aware of his penchant for
porn movies—and that bitch Fowley—she would have thought he preferred the
company of men.
A little while later she stood by the shore staring out at an almost impossible
sight. The small fragment pointed out to her was but the leading edge of a
massive shape submerged beneath the warm blue water. Her gaze remained locked on
the structure but her thoughts turned inwards. This was far more than she
expected.
What the hell was she going to do now?
The weasel-faced man cowered on his knees before him, and Alex smirked as he
decided the man was probably cursing his stupidity for daring to play such a
dangerous game with him. The Consortium assassin should have shot Sandoz at the
hospital, before Scully turned up and escorted the doctor to the reservation.
Certainly, he should never have waited for Alex to catch up with them all, but
the man had allowed arrogance and overconfidence in his own abilities to get the
better of him.
A dull gleam shone off the long silencer attached to the gun held firmly in the
Alex's hand.
"Give me the pieces."
"I don't have them..."
If it was true then where could the man have stashed them? He had heard no-one
else, but that didn't mean there was no-one else around. He knew from personal
experience that most Consortium assassins worked in pairs. Alex pursed his lips
in annoyance, his eyes narrowing to slits as he gazed down at the terrified man.
If it was true then he would have to let this man live a little longer—if only
so he could extract the location from him.
"...but I can show you where to look."
Alex smiled. Now this was more like it.
"Tell me."
"N-No. I have to show you."
The man climbed to his feet, his body trembling in fear as he turned away,
slowly leading them back towards the ceremonial hut. However, he couldn't
prevent the fear from loosening his tongue, much to Alex's initial annoyance.
Krycek filtered out most of it until a single word penetrated through. Krycek
shot out a hand to grab the man's arm, spinning him back around.
"Say that again. About Mulder"
"I-I said it's a shame about that Mulder character... gone crazy you know."
"How do you know about him?"
A new fear crept into the weasel face.
"Just heard things...heard he went nuts. Started ranting about... things. Last I
heard they put him in a straitjacket and locked him up on the Psycho ward."
Krycek's eyes widened in shock then narrowed dangerously as anger-driven
thoughts went crashing through his brain. Mulder. His Mulder. Finally driven
insane by the experiments performed upon him since childhood. A soft phut
sounded and the weasel-faced man glanced down at his chest in confusion before
crumpling to the ground at Krycek's feet. The Russian assassin's eyes followed
the body to the desert floor, his own face frozen in shock. He had not even felt
his finger tighten on the trigger yet there was no mistaking that the bullet had
come from his gun. Alex wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, the gun
held loosely between his fingers, and he cursed himself, closing his eyes for a
moment to blot out the sight of the dead man. If it wasn't Cancer Man killing
people before he got to them then it was Mulder—or thoughts of Mulder—that
ruined his plans.
He sighed and slipped the gun into the back waistband of his pants.
Oh well, he thought. As his mother used to say—no use crying over spilled
milk.
Krycek knelt down and checked through the man's pockets hoping there might be
something there to give him a clue where to look for the artefacts, but he was
out of luck. He stood back up and gazed ahead, eyes trying to pierce the
darkness but finally, he had to admit that those alien pieces no longer held any
real interest to him. Let someone else find them, he had more important matters
to attend to now.
With hurried footsteps, Krycek headed back the way he had come.
Thoughts of Fox Mulder filled him as he drove back towards civilisation, and the
nearest airport. He berated himself softly, in several different languages.
Those pieces of alien hull must have triggered a dormant part of Mulder's
exceptional brain, that much had been glaringly obvious from what he had seen on
the Skinner's surveillance tape, and yet it had not really connected in his own
mind until this moment what the full impact would be on Mulder. If Mulder was
affected that badly then there could be no doubt that he was one of the hybrids
- and if that was true then Mulder was in grave danger. Colonisation was about
to begin and the Rebels had decided to go for an all-out attack to prevent this
from happening—and that meant the destruction of anything connected to the
Colonists. Unfortunately, as a hybrid, Mulder might well fall into that
category, but Krycek vowed there was no way he was going to let that happen.
When he reached the airport, he dialed the number for his contact within the
Rebel resistance, needing to know if there was any sure way he could save Mulder
from the coming attack.
The conversation was abrupt but Krycek gained what he sought, confirmation that
they would allow Mulder to live, but only if he kept him out of reach of those
who would use Mulder to force their hand. It was not a hard decision for him to
make as he had no intention of abandoning Mulder to the psychiatric system let
alone allowing him to be sacrificed, even if it was to save the world. Mulder
was not insane, just temporarily overwhelmed by the vast amount of raw data
pouring into his mind.
As to a plan on how he was going to 'rescue' Fox Mulder. Well, he had several
hours to work on that on the flight back to Washington.
AD Skinner sat down in front of the small bank of monitors and stared at the
quiet figure hunched into the corner of the padded cell. Mulder's head was
lowered onto his chest as if in sleep but he looked up suddenly, his eyes
burning into the camera lens.
Skinner? I know you're there.
Walter Skinner sat back in shock as he felt the words form in his mind, shaking
his head in confusion. He had just about managed to convince himself that he
just thought he heard Mulder when it came again.
Skinner. You've gotta help me. You've gotta get me out of here.
Skinner stood up and backed away from the monitors. When Mulder started shouting
for Scully that time he had put it down to mere coincidence but this... He
turned as he heard the click of high heels right behind him, and came face to
face with Diana Fowley. Her pretty face was creased, a questioning expression
apparent but Skinner had no inclination to share any answers with her. He did
not trust this woman. There was something very wrong about her sudden
reappearance in Fox Mulder's life at this time. With a half-hearted smile he
motioned towards the monitors, deciding to conceal what he had felt only moments
before.
"There's no change, although he seems a little more subdued now."
She inclined her head then nodded as if she had taken a moment or two to
consider his words before deciding to believe him. No more words passed between
them as he brushed past her and stalked into the corridor beyond, leaving her
alone to watch the man who was more than just one of his finest agents; Mulder
was also a friend.
Slipping into the Neuropsych ward of the Georgetown Memorial Hospital, disguised
as an orderly, was surprisingly easy and so long as nobody got close enough to
see his fake ID, Krycek knew he was relatively safe from detection.
A familiar figure caught his attention and he swore softly under his breath,
ducking into the nearest doorway pulling the door closed behind him. He waited
until the stocky frame of AD Skinner had passed and then let himself back out,
watching until Skinner had turned the corner at the end of the corridor before
letting out the breath he was holding. Despite his current hold on Skinner with
the nanocytes, he had no intention of confronting the man; one confrontation in
a hospital was already one too many, and he was on his own this time, there was
no-one to pin Skinner's arms behind his back, giving him the opportunity to take
out all his frustrations on the helpless man. As he walked up the corridor in
the opposite direction to that taken by Skinner, Krycek turned his thoughts to
the task ahead, silently reflecting on the words spoken by his trainer—Vassily
Peskow.
'The art of infiltration is looking as though you belong there. No-one questions
somebody purposefully going about their business.'
Over the years he had put that particular advice to good use. He paused by the
Nurse's station and flicked through the patient records until he found the one
he wanted. A stealthy glance around showed no-one was paying attention to him so
he quickly pocketed those sheets of paper and made his way to Mulder's cell. He
fumbled with the lock, no longer as quick now he had but one hand, he thoughts
turning to Mulder.
Just sit tight, Mulder. I'm gonna get you out of here.
A sense of displaced anger flared through him and then gave way as a new
thought, a single name, pushed itself to the front of his brain, but Krycek
realised that this thought was not one of his own.
Fowley.
He paused, the crease across the bridge of his nose suddenly very apparent in
the reflection from the observation window as he frowned in bewilderment,
wondering where the thought had come from, and then full realisation hit him.
Cancer Man would have sent Fowley to monitor the incapacitated agent and Mulder,
in his current condition, would be able to monitor her—and him—but he never
expected Mulder to be able to project his thoughts as well as read them. It was
something Gibson Praise could never do despite the number of tests they
performed on the unfortunate boy. His thoughts returned to Diana Fowley,
remembering the way the dark-haired woman had twisted Spender around her finger,
suggesting ways of applying the tests on Mulder that had little or no
consideration for Mulder himself.
I should have killed that bitch a long time ago.
He 'heard' a laugh inside his head. Not a pleasant sensation of joy but one of
resignation and Krycek realised that none of his thoughts were safe from Mulder.
He was about to turn away and go in search of Fowley, to put her out of the
picture once and for all, when Mulder gave him the all-clear. Krycek's fingers
gave a quick twist and the lock clicked open. Moments later he had Mulder
released from the straitjacket and carefully following him through the hospital
corridors. Krycek led Mulder to a storage room where he had hidden a set of day
clothes and they both quickly changed out of their hospital garb.
"I don't expect you to believe me but you'd be safer with me right now."
"You're right. I don't believe you but d'you know something else. I don't care.
Just get me out of here, Krycek."
Krycek noticed the way Mulder was wincing and realised he was being battered,
constantly, by the barrage of human thoughts, his mind defenceless, unable to
lock out those around him. Krycek pushed down on his own thoughts, hoping to
mute them as he placed a hand under Mulder's elbow to guide him through the
crowded waiting room then down a long corridor to the staff exit.
Five minutes later they were driving away, heading out of the city.
They drove for hours, changing cars twice during the long journey and as the
city gave way to the suburbs, Mulder felt the pressure inside his head decrease.
By the time they reached the Appalachians only two people's thoughts echoed
around his head—his own and Krycek's. He slid sideways in the passenger seat
so he could stare at the strong profile of the man that had regularly turned his
life upside down, easily reading what thoughts flowed through that remarkably
intelligent mind.
Remarkably?
He frowned. Why should it be so remarkable that Alexei Krycek was an intelligent
man? A simpleton... or even a man of average intelligence would not have
survived as long as Krycek had in this business. Of course he was intelligent
- and beautiful. An incredible combination.
Beautiful? Now where had that thought come from?
Mulder studied Krycek closely, for the first time noticing that Krycek still had
that stupid-ass haircut, although it was shaved closer at the sides and had
grown out a little on top since their ill-fated trip to Tunguska. His eyes
followed the curve of Krycek's ear from the fleshy lobe to the almost elfin tip.
There was something delicate about his features, something almost effeminate.
Krycek's eyes flicked sideways as he sensed the scrutiny and Mulder caught a
flash of smoldering green along with a questioning thought before the face
turned back to watch the road ahead. Long, thick eyelashes descended momentarily
and Mulder suddenly understood why Scully had been jealous. They were so
provocative, so enticing, the way they framed those beautiful sea-green eyes. He
focused next on those luscious lips, ripe and ready for the taking. Mulder
licked his own lips as he watched the tip of a pink tongue sneak out as Krycek
concentrated on his driving.
Mulder sat back suddenly as a sense of relief flooded across from the other man.
"Almost there."
"Almost where?"
"You'll see when we get there."
Mulder sighed in exasperation. Being able to read thoughts only worked if the
subject had thoughts worth reading and so far, Krycek had kept a tight rein on
his.
For the most part, Krycek concentrated on the road ahead, refusing to let his
thoughts drift in any other direction in case he betrayed himself to the man
seated beside him. He had long ago accepted what he felt for Mulder; the desire
and the need... not just sexually but in every way. If only things had been
different between them. If only his choices had not taken them down different
paths. Someone had once told him that the end justifies the means, and if only
that were true for, somehow, he doubted Mulder could ever understand his reasons
for the things he had done. Perhaps, one day, when the Conspiracy and the threat
of Colonisation was behind them, he might have the chance to explain his part in
it all. Perhaps...
Krycek took a sudden left onto an overgrown track, surprising Mulder who had not
seen any indication of a turning. It soon became very obvious why Krycek had
chosen to pick up a 4 wheel drive at the last change over as the ride was bumpy,
the shocks and the seat-belt barely managing to stop him being thrown from side
to side. Another half an hour of dips and bumps passed before the car eased into
a large clearing.
A small cabin was nestled against the trees at the edge of the clearing, it's
rustic appearance successfully allowing it to merge into the tree line. Neither
man moved as the car pulled to a halt, waiting for the other to do something
first. In the end it was Krycek who stepped out of the car, waiting for Mulder
to join him. He threw out his hand, expansively, to encompass the surroundings.
"Welcome to your new home... at least for a while."
Mulder frowned as his mind caught a tendril of another thought and the strong
emotion accompanying it, but both were quickly squashed by their owner. He
stared at Krycek, who had closed his eyes to help reinforce the wall he was
trying to throw up in his mind. Mulder smiled; a predator smile. He had sensed
this same emotion before on the stairwell of the University but had considered
it just a product of the overload that had floored him. Now he knew for sure
that Alexei Krycek, super rat, had been there. His smile faltered as he realised
something else; Krycek wanted him, wanted to make love to him. He tried to
dredge up anger and disgust but both were strangely missing. Confused, he turned
away from the closed face and headed for the cabin.
"Where is Mr Mulder?"
"I have no idea."
CBG Spender sucked deeply on the cigarette and exhaled a stream of blue smoke
directly into Skinner's face. "I am not a patient man, Mr Skinner. I know you
were passing information onto Alex Krycek—"
"Prove it—"
"—and the monitors show quite clearly who freed Mulder from his room."
"It means nothing... except that Alex Krycek has taken a sectioned patient from
the hospital without permission from either the Doctors or the man's family."
Walter Skinner waited while Cancer Man digested that piece of information. The
sour look on the Smoker's face told him that he had won this round. He watched
as Spender turned on his heel and walked towards the door of his office, but
Spender paused on the threshold.
"If you change your mind you know where to reach me."
Skinner mumbled under his breath at the departing figure, "you have to have the
last word."
He sank back into his chair and pondered the enigma that was Alex Krycek. On the
one hand he hated the bastard; the betrayal, the beating—the way he had
callously killed him with the nanotechnology only to bring him back to life for
his own ends. He hated Krycek for forcing him to betray Scully and Mulder...
spying on them, hindering their investigation into the strange artefacts. He
pulled his glasses away and rubbed a hand across his face as the beginnings of a
massive headache formed behind his eyes.
On the other hand—a vicious thought crossed his mind that at least he still
had two hands.
On the other hand Krycek had freed Mulder from that padded cell. He paused on
that thought, wondering why that should be a plus in Krycek's favour considering
what the ex-Consortium assassin had done to both him and Mulder in the past. For
all he knew Krycek had some ulterior motive for freeing Mulder that would have
little benefit to anyone but Krycek himself, and certainly not to Mulder. He
frowned as the headache increased. So why did he believe Krycek's actions were
in Mulder's best interest?
Then it occurred to him that Krycek had never done anything to hurt Fox Mulder.
To hinder, yes. To mislead, yes. But to hurt? Hell, the man even allowed himself
to be used as a punch bag whenever his and Mulder's paths crossed.
Skinner leant forward in his chair, his finger stabbing at the intercom as he
paged his secretary.
"Kimberley, I want Agents Markham and Ribaldi in my office immediately."
He sat back and waited. Markham and Ribaldi were good agents. He would assign
them to search for Fox Mulder and Alexei Krycek.
It did not take long to get a fire going and both men sank into the surprisingly
comfortable chairs ranged around it, both deep in thought. Mulder's thoughts
revolved around the man seated close by as he watched the fire-lit face, trying
to snatch the half-formed thoughts as they were quickly pushed back into the
recesses of that quicksilver mind. He smirked, enjoying his new skill as he
probed deeper; Krycek was trying to hide his thoughts by focussing on the
domestic issues.
How much wood have we got? How much food? I need to check. What shall I cook for
dinner? Where are we gonna sleep tonight... Whoa... back off, food. What about
dinner? Think of dinner. Don't think about sleeping here in this cabin so close
to...
Krycek jumped to his feet in agitation, the blood rising to his face and, from
the bulge in his pants, dropping to his groin at the same time.
"I'm gonna get some more wood before it gets dark."
As he hurried off through the small kitchen Mulder could hear him wondering what
Mulder's telepathic range was... or if the man was even still receptive to
thoughts now they were so far away from the artefacts.
How the hell am I gonna gauge that? He's hardly likely to say 'Hey, Krycek, I
can't hear you any more'.
Mulder had smiled as he watched his agitated ex-partner practically run from the
room. He heard the outer door slam shut and turned back to the fire, his eyes
watching the dancing flames even as his mind turned outward to catch the trickle
of thoughts that still bled from Krycek. Although the thoughts grew fainter, the
emotions were still there but muted. He could feel the frustration and the fear;
the knowledge that he was the cause of this giving him an even deeper thrill.
This was the ultimate in voyeurism.
About ten minutes passed by with the feelings becoming more and more faint.
"Oh no you don't."
Mulder spoke softly to Alex Krycek even though he knew the man was out of reach.
In just a few short hours he had become addicted to the whispers that stripped
away the loneliness; a loneliness he never realised existed within him until
now. Swiftly, he rose to his feet and followed the hazy mind, each step making
the thoughts and emotions stronger and clearer until...
Mulder stopped dead, his mouth dropping open in shocked realisation. He glanced
back towards the cabin, half-turning with the intention of going back but the
sensations echoing around his mind were like a siren call. He took a few more
steps and, taking care to remain hidden, he looked through the trees until he
caught sight of...
So beautiful.
Alex was kneeling in a tiny clearing, surrounded by the soft glow of moon and
starlight, the hazy beams reflecting off his ivory skin. The muscular thigh,
soft curve of ass... the hollow of back as he arched upwards, head thrown back,
the long arc of neck and vulnerable throat were exposed. Short gasps and moans
sighed on the gentle night breeze, starlight reflecting off perfect white teeth
as his hand moved slowly up and down the tumescent shaft. Mulder watched,
mesmerised by the fingers that squeezed gently, the thumb stroking across the
sensitive head with each stroke, spreading dew drops of precome. He closed his
eyes for a moment, caught up in the sensations leaking across from the clearing,
feeling his own passion rise in response, desperately wishing those slender
fingers were wrapped around his own engorged flesh.
Mulder's hand lowered the zip and slipped inside his jeans and he began to
stroke himself in rhythm with the heady sensations that rippled through to his
soul. The soft cry that fell from Alex's lips was so far in contrast to the
scream and the violence that ripped through his mind, taking him over the edge
even as he watched the spurts of come slicking over the agile fingers and
splattering across the taut abdomen. His own voice caught on a single word
whispered into the breeze.
It was only as he relaxed into the afterglow that he realised Alex's soft cry
was a name; his name. Various emotions chased through him; some were his own,
some were from Alex but the blackest were his own. Guilt... and loathing. Not
for the way he had been mesmerised by the sheer beauty of the other man; not
even for the pleasure he had felt as he worshipped that beauty from afar. No.
The guilt was for the way he had used this gift, treating Alex Krycek like a
piece of his porn collection, avaricely feeding on the emotions... raping Alex
Krycek mentally. With trembling hands he tidied himself and fled back to the
cabin as swiftly and quietly as he could, hoping Alex had not seen or felt his
presence.
In the small clearing Alex smiled in complete contentment. When he left the
cabin the intention was to go somewhere as far from Mulder as possible and to
jerk off hard and fast, hoping this would be enough to dampen the lust that
flickered around the edges of his mind whenever he looked at Mulder. Instead it
had been glorious. The gentle breeze stirring his hair, warm enough to caress
his skin like a lover's breath. The moonlight had turned the clearing into an
enchanted glen and he had felt invincible as he opened his mind and heart to
free the desire. He stretched, catlike, remembering the moment of annihilation
where he could almost believe he heard Mulder call his name even as he sobbed
out the other's.
With a soft sound of self-rebuke he pulled his clothes back on. He took a moment
to glance up into the starlit sky, the bright points of distant stars and
galaxies easily visible now he was out of the smog-filled city. The gibbous moon
hung heavy in the night, casting its golden glow across the small clearing,
darkening the shadows around him but Alex felt no fear.
He wished he could have shared this moment with Mulder, wished he could have
felt those long fingers rather than his own caressing his flesh but it was not
likely to ever happen. He sighed knowing that he could not afford to leave
Mulder alone for much longer; his peaceful interlude at an end. With heavy
footsteps, and a heavier heart, he headed back to the cabin.
Scully looked around at all the activity not surprised that word had leaked out.
Something like this was next to impossible to conceal. Around her she could hear
dozens of different accents and languages as academics, archaeologists and
Ufologists argued and crowed and crowded around the small inlet to study the
unique artefact partially hidden beneath the shifting sand, as the tide crashed
softly against the sandy beach. The cacophony of voices was almost unbearable
and, for one moment, Dana Scully fully understood what had driven her partner
insane. A new sound distracted her.
"Miss Scully. Agent Scully."
"Yes."
"Telephone call from an AD Skinner."
Her heart suddenly leapt up into her throat and she swiftly made her way to the
small tent that housed the field telephone.
"Scully."
"Agent Scully. I have some distressing news regarding Agent Mulder."
"What's happened?"
"Alex Krycek..."
A feeling of dread curled in the pit of her stomach. "Is he dead?"
"What?"
"Has that bastard killed Mulder?"
"No... no. Alex Krycek has kidnapped Agent Mulder from the hospital."
Scully closed her eyes, swallowing heavily in relief. Perhaps there was hope
yet.
"I'm on my way back."
Mulder found it hard to look Alex Krycek in the eye when the other re-entered
the cabin carrying an armful of freshly chopped logs. He gave a sideways glance
as Krycek dropped the logs onto the pile next to the fire, unable to resist the
temptation to watch the play of thigh and ass muscles beneath the tight fitting
jeans, his mind flowing back to that stunning vision in the clearing. He
swallowed hard and glanced away when he sensed the query rippling through the
other man's mind. A moment passed in silence and then Mulder heard that soft
voice again.
"I'll go get us some dinner."
"Krycek?" He sensed rather than saw the other man pause in the doorway to the
kitchen. "Why am I here?"
He 'heard' Krycek start and abandon several thoughts before settling for one.
"To keep you safe."
"Safe from whom?"
Spender.
Mulder paused, eyes locking with the wide, sea-green gaze of his ex-partner.
Mulder knew it was not thoughts of Jeffrey Spender that had breached the wall in
Krycek's head. He frowned. No place on Earth would be safe for Alex if he had
interfered with Cancer Man's plans once more, so why had he placed himself in
danger?
"Okay. Let's rephrase the question. Why are you here?"
Krycek smiled, that bitter sweet half smile that said everything and nothing.
"To keep you safe."
Mulder closed his eyes in frustration for a moment and then directed his whole
mind towards the other man. No matter how hard he tried, Krycek could not stop
the strong emotions he felt for Mulder bleeding through the holes in the mental
wall he had built. All Mulder had to do was convince him to let go, to release
them. He sniffed in exasperation and decided to give up for now, fixing Alex
with a dead-pan expression.
"Kunpo chicken with egg-fried rice."
The smile that crinkled up the edges of those beautiful eyes was worth the
descent into levity.
"You always order that Mulder. For someone in your line of work you can be
very... unadventurous."
"I just know what I like."
He let a little of the desire he felt for Alex bleed across, not enough to
convince Alex but enough to remove the smirk from the younger man's face. His
own smile broadened as Krycek turned away looking strangely agitated.
Mind-fucking Krycek was a hell of a lot more satisfying than beating him to a
pulp.
Markham and Ribaldi wound and rewound the tapes from the hospital security
cameras, hoping something would appear out of nowhere.
"There."
Ribaldi pointed to the two hazy figures dressed in jeans and t-shirts diagonally
crossing the far left of the screen in the distance. Markham squinted.
"Could be. What is that corridor?"
The video from the staff car park gave them the starting point they needed as
they watched one dark-clad figure help the second into the passenger seat before
moving round to the driver's seat. They made a note of the car make and model
before contacting the FBI Headquarters. Moments later they had the next lead. An
abandoned car just south of the freeway matching the description of this one.
The hunt was on.
Smoke curled up from the chair facing away from the door but Diana Fowley would
know this arrogance was not overconfidence. CGB Spender had spent too many
decades in this business. He knew when he needed to protect his back... and when
others would protect it for him. A movement within the deeper shadows of the
darkened room revealed the presence of at least one of Spender's hired
operatives but she ignored this man and stepped around the chair to face her
employer; the one her ex-husband had labelled Cancer Man.
"He placed Agents Ribaldi and Markham on the case."
Spender sucked on the ever present cigarette, drawing the nicotine and tar deep
into his lungs before exhaling slowly; a smile curling his seamed lips. So
predictable, he thought smugly.
"And Agent Ribaldi will, no doubt, keep us informed of their progress."
A statement of fact but Fowley nodded anyway, seemingly impressed by the way
Spender had managed to stay two steps ahead of Skinner. No-one would ever guess
that Ribaldi had a dirty little secret that had placed him securely in the
Consortium's hands, and even though the majority of the leaders were now dead,
the reins were still held tightly.
Spender sighed. If it wasn't for Mulder's importance as a link between the
Colonists and Humanity then he would have been content to let the pair of them
go. His biological son... and his surrogate son. A beautiful combination.
Spender had to admit, privately to himself, that Alex Krycek had actually done
him a great favour when he orchestrated the El Rico massacre. He had always
known that it was the First Elder who had arranged the unsuccessful
assassination attempt on himself and felt slightly vindicated that it was his
own erstwhile protégé who had evened that particular score. He pursed his lips
in thought. It was only that Alex had expected him to die with the rest of them
that tainted his opinion of the younger man but then, perhaps that was
justifiable payback for his own attempt on the Russian's life. Strange how both
attempts had failed. Both of them responding to that sixth sense kicking in to
warn them of danger. Alex had escaped from a car bomb with only seconds to
spare, he had escaped in a car with only seconds to spare. The small smile
flickering about his lips grew larger. Life was certainly more interesting when
Alexei Krycek was around.
For a moment, Spender wished his other son, Jeffrey, had lived up to his
expectations. That final act of rebellion had earned young Jeffrey a severe
reprimand and even now, Spender wondered whether he had been too easy on him,
dropping his aim to gut-shot the boy. Jeffrey had spent the last few months in a
private sanatorium, in agony, as his body slowly healed. In time he would be
strong again and, hopefully, he would have learnt a valuable lesson about
loyalty. Still, Spender wondered what had turned his seemingly spineless child
against him, not truly understanding the love his son had felt for his mother,
Cassandra—and the subtle manipulation of a certain dark-haired assassin.
His thoughts were interrupted.
"Skinner informed Agent Scully of Mulder's abduction. She's on her way back."
He lifted a glass of scotch and took a sip of the fiery amber liquid as he
digested this latest piece of information. Scully was his greatest failure. The
Englishman had sent her in to keep tabs on Mulder after the marriage to Fowley
had broken up, but the diminutive redhead had proved herself to possess far more
intelligence and integrity than previously credited. With her by his side,
Mulder had become an even greater threat. She stabilised him, curbing the worst
of his excesses and eccentricities; helping him to narrow his focus to almost
pinpoint accuracy.
Spender wondered if Alex Krycek would ever realise that the reason his cover
with Mulder was deliberately blown was because he had filled Scully's shoes far
too well. They had thought to replace Scully with a fresh-faced Quantico
graduate who would hinder Mulder but, by the end of the Augustus Cole case, they
knew they had made a mistake. Mulder and Krycek had the capability of becoming a
formidable team, maybe more so than the Mulder and Scully combination for,
although Dana Scully was scientifically brilliant, she was also a non-believer.
Alex Krycek, on the other hand, was far more open-minded... and far more
intelligent than he let on.
Spender took another drag from the cigarette feeling strangely detached from his
surroundings. His main problem, at this moment, was the imminent start to
Colonisation. Uncovering the downed UFO off the African coast was a major
disaster. One that both his people and the Rebel Aliens, through Alex Krycek,
had tried to avoid but it was too late. Pictures were being flashed around the
globe on every news program. The question 'Are We Alone?' had been answered and,
in doing so, it had sealed the fate of humanity. Within a few days Earth would
fall to the Colonists and only the hybrids and a chosen few would survive the
Armageddon. Spender intended to be one of those chosen few, but that meant
finding his son, Fox William Mulder, and using him to barter for his own
continued existence.
Mulder's dream was full of strange symbols and images. Bees swarmed about with
an almost preternatural intelligence, singling out those who would feel their
sting. He saw these people fall to the ground, their bodies breaking out in
oozing sores. Moments later he was standing high on a cliff top watching the sun
set over the sea; the brilliant red of the sky reflecting in the still waters
making it seem as though it was a sea of blood. Along the shoreline stretched
miles of bloated corpses; fish, marine birds, seals, whales... humans. It was if
every living creature that had lived in or upon the sea had died and been washed
ashore.
Mulder awoke with a start, echoes of the nightmare still gripping him. He
staggered to his feet and made his way to the small wash basin, reaching out to
turn on the faucet. The whole assembly juddered and Mulder smacked the faucet
with the side of his hand. A sudden spurt of liquid sent him jumping back. It
was reddish brown... like blood.
The Seven Vials.
With a sharp intake of breath Mulder opened his eyes, quickly realising that he
was still in the oversize bed Alex had shown him to the previous evening. With
some trepidation he pushed back the covers and approached the small wash basin.
Turning the faucet Mulder sighed in relief as clear liquid flowed into the basin
below. It was all just a terrible dream.
Or a premonition.
"The Seven Vials"
His own voice sounded strange to him.
"Seven what?"
Mulder jumped. He had been concentrating so hard on remembering the dream that
he had not even noticed the whisper of Krycek's mind as the man entered the room
behind him. Mulder turned to face the intruder.
"Don't you ever knock?"
"Didn't think I'd need to, seeing how you can read my mind." Krycek glanced at
Mulder, head cocked slightly to one side. "You can still read my mind?"
Mulder caught a tendril of mental supplication as Krycek earnestly hoped Mulder
had lost the ability to read thoughts... his thoughts.
"Praying to any particular deity?"
Those beautiful green eyes closed momentarily as Krycek pulled the shutters down
to try and control any wayward thoughts, but Mulder easily read the fear that
surged through Krycek's mind, fear that Mulder would recognise the longing and
the desire, afraid this would send Mulder running from him in disgust. A single
thought escaped, the image of his own face in beautiful disarray, bleeding from
Krycek's mind.
If only the man didn't look so...
Krycek's eyes widened in horror as he viciously pushed the desire as deep as
possible. Colour rushed into his cheeks and, as he quickly scurried out of
Mulder's view, Alex missed the smirk that curled up the edges of Mulder's mouth.
Mulder laughed out loud as Alex practically ran from the cabin. The laugh and
the smirk faded with the realisation that it was Alex who had run away from him
in self-disgust. He sank down onto the bed, his mind turning inwards to follow
the ever-fading path of Alex's thoughts. This was ludicrous. He was the one who
ought to be feeling the disgust. He was the one who ought to be running away but
instead... instead he played games, power games, using his newfound ability to
make Alex ill at ease when all he really wanted was to put the man at ease.
The image of that beautiful moonlit body came back to haunt him. He heard again
the echo of his name spilling from those perfect lips; a soft sigh upon the
breeze. He wanted to hear that sigh again, to witness those kiss-softened lips
caressing his name. He wanted to touch the ivory skin, skim his fingers across
star-kissed flesh. He wanted to breath in his scent, strong with the musk of
pure sex. Mulder wanted to taste the essence of Alex Krycek, from the sweetness
of mouth, to the saltiness of sweat, to the bitterness of that ultimate release.
These new thoughts struck Mulder as very odd, especially as he had never
entertained thoughts of himself with Alex before seeing that naked, moonlit
body.
Or had he?
Mulder turned his incisive mind in on itself and realised he had been fooling
himself all this time, his fists becoming an excuse for touching, his harsh
words an reason for hearing that soft, husky voice in retort.
How long has this been true?
He probed deeper inside his own mind, dragging out memories that he had buried,
analysing them with a ruthlessness that left himself cringing. It became all too
apparent that his attraction to Alex Krycek has started the first time their
eyes had met, although he had been too full of his own self-pity and bruised ego
to notice what his body was telling him. Attraction had turned to admiration,
then to love, long before that original betrayal.
But I don't love you now.
Despite his internal protests to the contrary, love had not turned to hate; it
had not died. He had buried it, alive and kicking, deep within his psyche and it
had surfaced every time he met up with Alex, demanding its due, needing to touch
and to hold the one being that meant everything to him, but the only outlet
Mulder had allowed that love was fists and barbed comments.
It doesn't have to be this way.
The telepathy seemed to have opened his mind in more ways than the one intended.
Feeling and reading the emotions and thoughts that poured from Alex, despite
Alex's attempts to build walls, had allowed those deeply buried emotions of his
own to dig their way back to the surface and, this time, Mulder had no intention
of letting them slide back into the recesses of his mind. This time he wanted to
be kind to himself, to allow himself the opportunity of denying nothing. He
wanted to grasp at the one thing he had spent his entire life hiding from. He
wanted to know real love—and that meant finding a way to reach Alex.
Mulder knew that he could have that beautiful body just for the asking, but Alex
was no two-bit whore to be bought, used and discarded. Mulder knew he wanted
more than that. He wanted to feel the pleasure of loving and being loved, and he
wanted him for a lifetime.
He sighed, wishing things had been different between them. Perhaps if Alex had
not killed his father, or betrayed him, or if he had not allowed them to take
Scully? But Mulder could not change the past, but he was uncertain wherever he
could live with that past either.
Through the open curtains Mulder could see that the moon was lying low in the
sky, but instead of focusing on its beauty, he remembered how it had looked many
hours earlier, reflected off of that perfect ivory skin.
They ate in what ought to have been silence but Alex had taken to singing songs
over and over in his head to drown out all other thought—and it was driving
Mulder nuts. Eventually he had enough of it and stalked off to his own room to
try and gain a little more sleep. His earlier attempt to rest had failed
miserably, his head full of the strangest images of boils and blood.
The dream, when it came, was of sunlight: intense sunlight. Charred remains
littered the baked earth, and the bones of others were bleached white by the
fierceness of the enlarged sun. The survivors were huddling in the shadows,
their bodies burned, eyes blinded by the terrible light bringing eternal
darkness upon them. They cried out in their pain and thirst, chewing on their
own tongues, their lips cracked and bleeding. The seas boiled and the waters of
great rivers dried up leaving the Earth covered in a single desert that
stretched to the four corners of the world.
Mulder sat up with a cry of despair falling from his lips, cursing the
photographic memory that had dredged up these images from the depths of his
fertile imagination, mixed in with the text of Revelations. He knew what had
triggered the nightmare, the writing on the alien artefact that Albert Hosteen
had started to translate just prior to succumbing to his cancer. Mulder had read
it all in Scully's mind when she came to see him at the hospital.
Genesis and Revelations; the beginning and the end of the world.
"You okay?"
Mulder squinted as light from the hallway flooded into his room, he could see
the strong, one-armed figure silhouetted by the light, his own mind supplying
the features of the angelic face. Mulder swallowed hard, easily reading the
concern emanating from the dark figure.
"I have to know what you're not telling me."
Concern was replaced by indecision as thoughts flitted through the quicksilver
mind, dazzling Mulder with their intensity. He knew Alex desired him but it had
never occurred to him until now that Alex might also be in love with him, and
the thought stopped Mulder in his tracks.
How long have you loved me?
The thought went flying through his head bringing memories crashing down on him.
he recalled the way Alex would look at him when they were partners, the way Alex
would reach out and touch him on any pretext; a brush of fingers as they passed
files, a hand on his arm to attract his attention. Time moved forward and he
watched as his fists connected with the firm body, pummelling into the handsome
face, blows landing on the soft abdomen and, through it all, Alex had offered
little resistance, barely more than defensive gestures, accepting the blows
without full retaliation. Mulder realised he had never stopped to consider how
he could have been so victorious over the younger, well built and well-trained
man especially when he remembered the ease by which Alex had knocked him down
that night in his apartment—with one hand.
Some of what he was recalling must have either bled through this strange
telepathic connection or been obvious on his face for Alex turned pale, the
blood draining from his face. Mulder watched as the younger man started to
shake, eyes darting around in fear, frozen in a moment of indecision of fight or
flight. Mulder could sense Alex trying to shutter all the thoughts and his heart
ached at the pain he saw cross the angelic features.
Do you fear me so much, Alex?
"I-I've gotta..."
"Alex? Stay."
Mulder rose from the bed and took a few hesitant steps towards the frightened
man. He held out his hand, eyes intently focused on Alex, and let the emotions
he had held in check for so long glide over him, flowing out and wrapping
themselves around the forlorn figure.
He saw the fear drain from those soft green eyes, replaced by confusion, by
disbelief. Mulder took another step forward, then another, gradually closing the
distance between them until he could touch the softly parted lips with his
finger tips. Alex closed his eyes and Mulder could feel the slight tremor that
shook the lean frame as his fingers traced the shape of that beautiful mouth,
dipping into the cupid's bow, dragging along the luscious bottom lip. Mulder
took a final step forward, his other hand reaching out cup the back of Alex's
head, fingers drifting through the short dark strands of mahogany. He drew Alex
towards him, met him halfway, their lips barely touching. Mulder tilted his head
further, pressed forward and deepened their first kiss, the tip of his tongue
teasing along their joining, gently asking for permission to explore the world
lying before it. A soft moan reverberated between them, warm breath filling his
own mouth as Alex sighed his acceptance.
A single hand pulled Mulder against the firm body, pressing them together from
chest to thigh. He could feel the physical evidence of Alex's passion hard
against his abdomen, his own engorged flesh caught between their close-pressed
bodies.
No spoken words passed between them when Mulder drew back, none were needed as
Mulder allowed all of his passion to flow directly into Alex, gasping when the
fiery emotions, held so tightly through the years, were reflected back in equal
measure.
Clothes were discarded, falling to the floor in untidy heaps, unheeded as Mulder
kissed and caressed every inch of revealed flesh. They fell backwards onto the
bed, Mulder's weight trapping the younger man beneath him as he continued his
oral assault on the warm flesh. He swirled his tongue over one stiffened nipple,
then bit down hard, hearing a cry of pain and pleasure intermingled. He swiped
over the tightened bud once more before moving slowly down the body, licking and
biting, tongue dipping into the indentation of navel before trailing down,
swathing a path through the dark hairs that led to the base of the proud shaft.
Alex moaned as Mulder made no attempt to touch his hardened flesh with tongue or
hand, feeling the sensations skitter through him as it was nudged aside by
Mulder's slightly stubbled cheek. He grabbed at Mulder's chestnut hair,
clenching his fist around the long strands that cascaded over the tall forehead,
desperately wanting to push that face into his groin, to feel that rough tongue
climb the length of him before he was swallowed by that luscious mouth.
He cried out when Mulder gave him what he wanted, forgetful of the telepathy
that had sent his every thought blazing into Mulder's mind. Alex knew he was
losing control, he had wanted this for so long, for too long, unable to stop
himself from bucking up into the wet heat that surrounded him. A hand coaxed his
legs apart, long fingers trailing down his tightened sac, then further back,
circling the small ring of muscle, teasing the sensitive flesh before dipping
inside. Alex relaxed, opening himself willingly to the invader, gasping as that
finger rubbed against his prostate, sending ripples of pure ecstasy flowing
through him.
"Mulder? Mulder... I can't..."
He tried to pull Mulder away as his balls tightened, unable to control the
warmth building deep inside that spread like wildfire, igniting his nerve
endings—and he came, his seed jetting into the welcoming mouth.
"Mulder!"
His scream of pleasure echoed through both their minds, reverberating around the
room as Alex collapsed into a boneless heap beneath his lover. He had no
strength to fight as he was flipped onto this stomach, his hips drawn back. He
felt something blunt nudge at the entrance to his body and cried out as the
muscle was breached by the thick head of Mulder's cock. Saliva and some of his
own spilled seed eased the passage into his body as Mulder rocked into him, his
shaft sinking deeper with every thrust. Droplets of hot sweat dripped onto his
own sweat-sheened back as Mulder found a rhythm, his hands holding Alex steady
as he plunged in and out. Mulder slammed in hard, froze for a moment, the
whisper falling from his lips strangely at odds with the scream from his mind as
he spoke a single word.
"Alex."
They lay in a heap for several minutes, breathing ragged, limbs heavy, before
Alex had the strength to shift Mulder to one side. Mulder fell onto his back and
Alex curled up by his side, head pillowed on Mulder's shoulder. He closed his
eyes and smiled, fully satiated and content as a hand carded through his hair
before gently stroking his cheek.
"I'm sorry."
Alex opened one eye, confused and a little worried. Was Mulder regretting what
they had just done?
"No! No regrets, Alex. Except for not realising how you felt about me. How I
felt about you."
"Then why are you sorry?"
"For not believing you. For not believing in you."
Alex nodded, still a little confused with Mulder's sudden acceptance of
everything, but he was not going to analyse his good change of fortune.
"It's water under the bridge, Mulder."
"You really are Russian."
Alex felt loved as the smile within his lover's mind seeped into his own,
feeling a warmth spreading through him that had little to do with sex or the
temperature of the room. It was purely mental warmth, easing aside the coldness
of the past years, leaving him basking in its glory.
The rest of the night passed in outward silence but inwardly they wrapped each
other in warm thoughts; offering, sharing and healing the hurts of the past.
Questions were asked and answers given without censure as Mulder discovered the
true depth of Alex's feelings for him and, in doing so, discovered the depths of
his own feelings in return.
They made love several more times, slowly but passionately, clinging to each
other as the sensations rippled through them: mind, body and soul.
When morning came they were still wrapped in each other's arms, legs tangled
together possessively. Alex moaned appreciatively when Mulder nuzzled against
his hair, kissing him on the temple. He stretched, feeling far better than he
had for a long time. His body was still tingling with the after effects of their
lovemaking.
"Good morning."
He smiled at Mulder, loving the way Mulder's hair was standing in all
directions. He watched as Mulder rolled out of bed, feeling the warm glow of
Mulder's mind within his own.
The rest of their morning seemed so domesticated, and so very different to that
first day. The awkward silences were gone and they took every opportunity to
touch. Alex smiled when Mulder came up behind him for the third time that hour,
wrapping his lanky frame around him in an affectionate hug. He could sense the
pleasure it gave Mulder through that strange link, but he knew they had both
been starved of affection for so long that every touch was something special, to
be savoured and enjoyed.
The sound of cars approaching made Alex straighten in Mulder's arms.
"Can you sense who it is?"
"Spender. Fowley. And they're not alone."
Mulder could feel the anxiety building in Alex and he remembered Alex's earlier
words, that he was trying to protect him from Spender. What Mulder had never
managed to discover was why, and now there was little time to extract that
information—unless...
"I have to know, Alex. Why am I here? Why do I need to be kept safe from
Spender?"
"There's no time to explain. We have to go before..."
"Go where, Alex?"
Alex froze as the bulky frame of the Bounty Hunter filled the doorway, suddenly
aware that this was one mind that Mulder had neither read nor sensed. Alex
grabbed Mulder and pulled him back, his eyes darting around the room for
something he could use as a weapon.
Through the kitchen window Alex could see the familiar forms of Spender and
Diana Fowley walking slowly but purposefully towards the small cabin, two of
Spender's goons striding ahead of the pair. Alex turned to Mulder, his heart
heavy with regret for all the time they had lost in the past, and for the loss
of any future they may have had. He jumped when he heard the swish of a plam
springing open, his eyes meeting and holding Mulder's for one moment before
dropping to the weapon held so casually in his lover's hand.
The Bounty Hunter paused, eyeing the lethal weapon held so confidently, and Alex
could almost see the thoughts that must have been passing through the alien's
mind. Could he wrestle the weapon from Mulder's grip without hurting Mulder? The
answer became superfluous as the sound of several more vehicles approaching
caught everyone's attention. Mulder grinned.
"Cavalry's arrived. Scully... and Skinner. And two others. Federal agents."
The Bounty Hunter lunged forward, sweeping Alex aside with ease, and Alex felt
his head crack painfully against the wall, sending his vision spinning. He tried
to regain his balance, cursing anew the loss of his left arm as he struggled
back to his feet. Mulder had managed to keep the alien bounty hunter at arm's
length and Alex positioned himself ready to attack. If he could divert the
alien's attention then, just maybe, it would give Mulder the edge he needed to
stick the creature where it really hurt—in the back of its thick neck.
His opportunity was lost when the retort of a gun filled the room followed
instantaneously by a burning sensation in his left shoulder. Alex fell, hearing
a scream of denial falling from Mulder's lips even as the cry echoed through his
mind. He looked down at his right hand that was pressed against his shoulder,
seeing the red blossoming through his t-shirt, trickling through his fingers.
Grimly, he held onto consciousness, hearing the sound of Scully's voice raised
in warning, before another volley of shots were fired. A body fell over his
legs, the sightless eyes of Diana Fowley staring back at him as he gazed down in
his own agony.
Skinner cried out as a bullet grazed his arm, a bullet from his gun finding the
unexpected assailant; Agent Ribaldi fell dead to the floor.
"Mulder!"
Alex's voice was so weak but he had to alert Scully and Skinner to the fact that
Mulder was being forced from the cabin by the Bounty Hunter, with Spender hard
on their heels. Flames erupted outside, a high-pitched scream of agony freezing
everyone. A human torch reeled into the kitchen and flames burst into life
wherever the figure touched. Another figure followed him in, a burly man with no
face who carried a metal rod in one hand.
"No!!"
Alex cried out, unable to feel the presence of Fox Mulder in his mind and
assuming the worst. The Rebels had said Mulder could live only so long as he
would not be used against them. Alex felt the weight of Fowley's dead body being
rolled from his legs. He cried out again, in pain, when Skinner hauled him over
one broad shoulder, carrying him quickly out of the burning cabin just a few
long strides ahead of the rebel soldier.
The ground began to shake violently and Skinner went crashing down, unable to
stay standing. Alex cried out as he hit the ground hard, rolling over several
times as the earth shook beneath them. He could see Scully crawling towards
them, saw a fissure open up beside her and thought she would tumble into it but,
suddenly, Skinner was there, grasping her hand and pulling her to relative
safety. Alex tried to crawl back towards the burning cabin, ignoring the rebel
soldier who had fallen to the ground nearby. He had to find Mulder, not wanting
to believe they would have incinerated him.
The shaking ended as suddenly as it had begun, the reason very clear as they
watched a massive Colonist mothership climb into the sky, pushing through the
atmosphere. The sky was lit up, slashes of red and gold light zapping across the
azure blue, striking the mothership over and over. It continued to climb,
growing smaller until it was little more than a dot, the lightning flashes faded
away with it. A blinding flash filled the sky, slowly dissipating. Moments later
the earth shook again as it was pummelled by falling debris from the destroyed
mothership. After what seemed to be an eternity all was still once more.
When Alex looked back up he realised the rebel soldier had gone. He struggled to
his feet, ignoring the pain.
"Mulder!"
Alex weaved towards the cabin, blood dripping down the remnants of his left arm
leaving droplets in the dirt behind him. Skinner caught up with him and grabbed
his good arm. He tried to shrug him off, desperate to reach the other side of
the cabin and yet terrified of what he would find. Skinner decided to stop
fighting him, and Alex staggered off, rounding the corner to come face to face
with his worst nightmare; the charred remains of what had once been several
human beings.
Alex fell to his knees, eyes closing, unaware of the keening cry that started to
fall from his lips. Scully dropped down beside him, her own face ashen with
shock as she allowed her worst scenario to overcome her. Her arms closed about
him, the shock of their grief for the man they had both loved uniting them at
last. Alex was hardly even aware when Skinner dropped down beside them, one hand
placed upon each of them in unspoken sorrow.
Alex had no idea how long they stayed that way but, suddenly, there was a
prickle at the back of his mind that made him fall silent. He focused in on that
strange yet familiar feeling, sensing it growing stronger with each passing
second. He opened his eyes wide, staring directly ahead into the forest then
quickly leapt to his feet, running headlong into the dense foliage. Skinner and
Scully started after him. He stumbled over a root, falling heavily but pushed
back onto his feet, shaking off the hands that grabbed for him as they tried to
impede his flight.
"Mulder!"
Alex!
The beloved voice echoed through him and he sobbed in relief when, moments
later, Mulder appeared on the other side of a small clearing, dishevelled but
still beautiful in Alex's eyes. The distance between them closed quickly, then
they were falling into each other's embrace.
"You've been shot!"
Mulder laid Alex down, his hazel eyes beseeching Scully to help him, and he held
on tight to his lover as Scully pushed aside Alex's t-shirt.
"Sir! Can you get my medikit from the car?"
"Be better if we carried him back to the car."
Skinner made to pick Alex up and found himself facing off a possessive Mulder.
He stood back, hands raised defensively, and watched as Mulder settled Alex into
his arms then strode off towards the cabin without a backwards glance.
Alex blinked, his eyes misting as the glare of daylight stabbed into him. He
recognised the nondescript interior of a hospital room, with its pale-coloured,
insipid walls. A splash of colour brightened the bedside cabinet and he frowned,
wondering who would bring him flowers. His head turned on the pillow and he
sighed in exasperation when he found Mulder fast asleep in the chair beside him,
his head pillowed in his arms on the bed. Alex reached out and let his fingers
drift through the strands of chestnut hair. He felt a warm, fuzzy sensation
drift across from Mulder's mind, recognised it as being the blurred, hazy edges
of a dream; a pleasant dream.
Mulder took a deep breath and sighed, his eyes flickering open, smiling at the
severe expression on Alex's face. He remembered the last thing they spoke of
before Alex was taken into surgery, and he could hear the words in Alex's head
long before Alex opened his mouth to say them.
"Thought I told you to stay at the cabin."
"Thought I told you to stop throwing your orders around."
"It's for your own good, Mulder."
"How so?"
"All these people... in your head—"
"What people?"
Alex hissed as his attempt to pull himself up only aggravated the pain in his
left shoulder.
"What d'you..? Can't you hear them any more?"
"No." Mulder smiled as he watched that familiar frown line crinkle across the
bridge of Alex's nose.
But I can still hear you.
The green eyes widened, and Mulder's smile grew into an unrepentant grin. He
sobered quickly, already hearing Alex's questions filling his own mind. He
replied, sending his thoughts to the concerned mind.
The Rebels did something to me, injected something into me.
Mulder lapsed back into speech.
"It scared me when I couldn't hear your thoughts. I-I missed hearing you in my
head. I wasn't sure if they had cured the telepathy—or if you were dead."
Mulder reached out, his fingers trailing down the stubbled jaw line before
moving across to trace the outline of the beautiful mouth.
"Seems all they did was mute the telepathy to an acceptable level... and give me
the ability to block out all except what I wanted to hear—and I want to hear
you."
"Aren't you afraid of what you might find in me?"
"Nah. I know all your secrets, Alex: even the terrible ones." He looked away for
a moment, trying to find the right words that would convince Alex that he had
nothing to fear. "I learned everything when you gave yourself to me. I know
about my father's death; about Scully's abduction. I know about every death you
caused, every act of violence... and I know the reasons why."
"I had to keep you safe—"
"I know. When you got me vaccinated against the Black Oil... Was it worth the
price you paid?"
Mulder's eyes dropped to the missing left arm.
"Do you really need to ask?"
"No."
They fell into a comfortable silence, no thoughts passing between them, only
warm emotions. Eventually, Alex's mind returned to that last morning on the
mountain.
"What happened back on the mountain?"
"The Seventh Vial."
"You said something like that before... but I don't understand the reference."
Mulder grinned, deciding not to tease his lover with predicted biblical
holocausts.
"The final Colonist mothership had been buried inside the mountain. When it took
off... It was like an earthquake. The rebel ship was waiting for it and opened
fire; deafening noise and a spectacular light show. Better than last year's
Fourth of July. They destroyed the mothership, but it was too close to the earth
and debris rained down over a widespread area, like a hail storm. Larger chunks
almost destroyed DC; looks like three cities instead of one now."
"And the Colonists?"
"Gone... dead or fled."
"The Rebels?"
"Gone. Earth isn't the only battlefield it seems. Your rebel friends said they
would be posting a guard at the edge of the solar system, in case the Colonists
try to come back."
"What about Spender?"
"Dead... along with his goons. Incinerated by the Rebels. They lit him up like a
cigarette; all that's left is ashes. Fitting end for the Smoker, don't you
think?"
"Then it's all over. The Colonists, the Conspiracy..."
"No. It's not all over. For us it's only just beginning."
"So there is an us?"
Do you need to ask?
Mulder let more than just that thought bleed across into his lover's mind, he
also sent an arrow of desire, grinning as Alex gasped in shock, enjoying the way
the beautiful smoky green of his lover's eyes were quickly consumed by the
expanding blackness of pupil.
EPILOGUE:
Alex awoke to find Mulder was still fast asleep by his side. He watched him for
a while, eyes drifting over familiar features softened by sleep. He reached out
and traced the shell of an exposed ear before his fingers drifted down the
strong jaw line, enjoying the sensation of rough stubble beneath his finger
pads. The pain in his shoulder had receded with the help of analgesics but he
swore softly at the flare of jagged pain when he moved to get more comfortable.
It was hard to believe that almost three months had passed since that day at the
cabin; Mulder had rarely left his side since then. One small consolation was
that Mulder had managed to convince AD Skinner that neither of them needed to be
restrained. Of course it helped that Skinner had witnessed the retreating
mothership and the rebel soldiers. Eventually they had been moved from the
hospital to an FBI safe house, and guards had been posted, but the guards were
more for his and Mulder's benefit. It seemed that every newspaper in the entire
globe had beaten a path to his door, demanding interviews with one or both of
them.
The truth was out there... but no longer was it something hidden, something to
be searched for. The truth had finally been exposed and, every single day, there
were new reports of Consortium members being arrested—for crimes against
humanity—and of Consortium-run laboratories being raided, the unwilling
'merchandise' being freed. Using the information he provided, the Russians
stormed the camp at Tunguska, freeing the captives from their own living hell of
the Black Oil experiments; a hell he had once shared with them.
The secret war was over, and heroes of that war against the Colonists were
starting to emerge. High up on that list were the names Fox Mulder and Alexei
Krycek.
Alex had spent these months answering questions publicly, shocking the world
with his candidness, having decided to leave nothing out. He spoke of his
recruitment to the Rebellion and his role in it, explaining the reasons behind
every death at his hands.
There were those who wanted him brought to justice for the murders he had
committed, but the Army lawyer AD Skinner had produced for him had argued
successfully that Alex had been no different than any other Black Ops soldier
fighting a war.
Alex brought his attention back to the present, his eyes focusing on the bedside
clock. It seemed Skinner's lawyer was not the only one who did not consider him
to be a murderer. Having spent the past months sending messages out into space,
the Rebel aliens had finally decided to respond. Hasty arrangements had been
made for the first official contact—and the Rebels had insisted that Fox
Mulder and Alex Krycek act as intermediaries.
Technically, this made them the very first ambassadors to ever represent Earth.
Alex grinned, amazed at the turn his life had taken but more so for the
beautiful man who now shared his bed. He had set the clock to wake him early,
wanting to spend a little time enjoying his new lover before this day began.
Alex let his fingers drift back to the handsome face, tracing the outline of the
luscious mouth, letting his finger dip inside as the lips parted. A hand grasped
his wrist, holding his finger in place, and hazel eyes opened, the light of
devilry dancing within them as Mulder began to suck on the single digit.
Alex moaned appreciatively, never failing to love the things Mulder did with his
mouth.
When his wrist was released, Mulder's hand reached out to gently trail down
Alex's body, finger tips skimming his flesh, sending licks of energy zapping
along his nerves. The hand moulded itself around his asscheek, fingers delving
into the crease to run along the sensitive flesh. Alex gasped as a finger began
to circle the tight, hidden muscle, letting himself relax as Mulder pushed
inside. He moaned as Mulder's mouth continued to suck on the finger even as
Mulder thrust his own finger into the tight, hot channel.
Mulder released Alex's finger suddenly, giving it one final parting lick. With
his finger still thrusting and teasing the delicate inner tissues of his lover's
body, Mulder kicked aside the bed covers and edged downwards, tongue and mouth
teasing the sensitised skin. He grinned when Alex cried out, continuing his
assault on the stiffened nipple, the feel of his lover writhing against him
sending a dizzying sensation arrowing straight to his own groin.
Mulder abandoned the nipple reluctantly, continuing his journey south across
rippling muscles until he reached his goal. He flicked his eyes back up the
prone body, almost losing himself in the heated green eyes that caught his own.
With slow, deliberate movements, Mulder licked along the length of his lover's
hardened shaft from base to tip, enjoying the way those green eyes glazed over
as Mulder's tongue dipped into the sensitive slit to lap up the droplets of
precome. Alex's cry was even louder when Mulder took the engorged shaft into his
mouth, sucking and licking while his finger continued to thrust inside the
gorgeous body. He felt Alex buck as his finger brushed across the sensitive
gland deep inside his lovers body. Mulder made certain his finger found that
same spot again, exulting in the total mastery he had over Alex. Above him, Alex
was sobbing and cussing, begging for more yet pleading for the end, echoes of
his cries filling Mulder's mind, his own body spiralling higher and higher in
response.
When the moment came, when Alex reached the moment of climax, every sensation,
every feeling both physical and mental, flooded through Mulder, his mind
snatched up and whirled in a maelstrom of intense pleasure until he came
crashing back into himself. Mulder moaned, his limbs too heavy to move. He
reached down and found evidence of his own spent passion sticking to his body
and the sheets, awed that he had not needed a single physical touch.
Mulder dragged himself back up the bed and grinned lazily at the heavy-lidded
eyes, loving the way the long, dark lashes brushed against the high cheekbones.
"That was..."
"... indescribable."
"Yeah."
Mulder leaned up on one elbow as he felt a flicker of pain crossing from his
lover.
"I'll get you some paracetamol."
Mulder moved closer and kissed the soft lips, feeling the smile crease them
upwards. He hauled himself out of the bed and wandered into the bathroom,
catching sight of himself in the mirror above the sink. Smiling at his own
reflection, Mulder licked his own kiss-swollen lips and run a hand through his
sleep and passion-mussed hair.
All the years of searching were over. He had his answers, and later today he
would officially welcome the first extraterrestrial ambassador to Earth, but as
his thoughts roamed back along the corridor, Mulder knew that none of it was
more important than finally having the man he loved by his side, filling the
empty spaces in his heart and mind.
The Seven Vials
by Tarlan
And the seventh angel poured out his vial into the air; and there came a great
voice out of the temple of heaven, from the throne, saying, It is done. And
there were voices, and thunders, and lightnings; and there was a great
earthquake, such as was not since men were upon the earth, so mighty an
earthquake, [and] so great. And the great city was divided into three parts, and
the cities of the nations fell: and great Babylon came in remembrance before
God, to give unto her the cup of the wine of the fierceness of his wrath.
Revelation 16:17 to 19
Revelation 16:21
