Palingenesis
by Ursula
Now...
Hope...gone.
Nothing left to do but try to find the point where he had lost his
thread and go back to see if he had missed any answers in the forward
motion.
Mulder leaned his head against the window, feeling the cold chill
against his flesh. The plane landed despite the icy mist hanging over
the airport.
The taxi dropped him off in front of a tourist hotel in Moscow. As he
walked to the door, he caught a glimpse of a one armed man. He had
dark hair and Mulder's breath caught as he noticed the jaunty saunter
of the man. He ran down the block and grabbed the man's remaining
arm. The Russian turned and stared at Mulder, his pale blue eyes
blinking.
"Sorry, sorry," Mulder said, backing away.
The hotel room seemed quiet. Mulder didn't want to be alone with his
thoughts and went out to dinner, walking the few blocks to one of the
recommended restaurants. Mulder noticed that the city was full of
casualties of one kind or another. He finally stopped noticing men
with one arm after the first few shocks.
The one whose ghost he could not lay to rest was dead.
Oddly enough, now that his old nemesis was gone, Mulder felt able to
resurrect the few bright moments of the past. He could remember the
kisses, making love to his partner until both of them could not move
from exhaustion, his fingers tangled in the chestnut hair. He had not
allowed himself to remember that for years.
The restaurant was mostly empty. Mulder ordered and ate slowly,
prolonging the moments before he returned to his hotel. He threw back
a shot of vodka, feeling the fiery burn. "Until we meet again, Alex,"
he murmured to the air.
The truck driver dropped him off in Tunguska without argument. A
substantial bribe explained that. Mulder walked through the burned
out site of the camp, toeing aside charred papers, wondering about
the horrors that had transpired here.
One-armed men appeared out of the woods. Mulder held his ground,
waiting to find out what they wanted.
A man with pale blond hair and a narrow, sharp-featured and
intelligent-appearing face said, "You brought him here. You take him.
We do not want him here."
"What?" Mulder asked.
"We only kept him in the hopes that he would reveal the secret to us,
now that the madmen have gone and there is no benefit to having
missing arms, but he doesn't appear to know how he grew the arm back.
You take him away. Take him back to America. He is a witch," the man
said.
The crowd of men parted and Krycek was shoved forward. He had a rope
around his neck and his hands were bound. Bruises and dirt marked his
face. He stared at Mulder disdainfully and spat on the ground. "Now
you come back for me after all these years?"
"I didn't come back for you," Mulder said. "I thought you were dead."
"You tried hard enough to be sure of that," Alex said. He snarled as
one of the one-armed men pushed him forward.
Mulder caught Alex before he could fall and his hand tightened on the
left arm, which was warm. He caught his breath and said, "Where did
you find this man?"
"We cut off his arm to save him, but the soldiers came and took him.
When next we saw him, he was wandering naked in the forest...with two
arms. He seemed dazed and childlike so we took care of him until he
recovered his wits. Later, when we saw that the soldiers were driven
from their camp, we wanted to know the secret, how the arm grew back,
but he would not tell us. He is useless. You take him," the leader
said.
Wordlessly, the men faded back, leaving Mulder with the bound Krycek.
After a moment, Mulder moved forward, grimacing at the rank odor that
emanated from Krycek's body.
"They don't boast many American comforts in the woods," Alex growled.
The man sounded like Krycek. He looked like Krycek. Certainly, he was
a paler, thinner version of the man Mulder had last seen. Yet every
expression, every gesture was recognizable.
Mulder said, "I don't know how you did it, but I'm keeping you with
me until I find out."
Krycek nodded, a swift fierce jerk of his small chin. He turned to
jab his hands at Mulder to be untied. Thinking that he could hardly
drag Krycek across Russia bound like this, Mulder worked the knots
loose. The wrists bore scars. Krycek must have been frequently tied.
It took an hour and more to get back to town. Mulder had to bribe a
delivery man to drop them at the nearest place large enough to boast
of a hotel and clothing store.
Mulder bought stiffly new denim jeans, underwear, a sweater, and
jacket for Krycek, who was clad in the same reeking rags that he had
been wearing when the one armed men gave him to Mulder.
Krycek grabbed the toothbrush and ran to the sink. "Those stupid
peasants use frayed twigs to brush their teeth. Like living in the
dark ages all this time."
Mulder said, "I really thought you were dead twice over."
"Yeah," Krycek said. He glanced back at Mulder and said, "Get me back
to America and I'll tell you anything you want to know." His
eyelashes fluttered and he added, "Do anything you want."
"Krycek, if you think I would trust anything that came out of that
lying mouth..."
"You gonna leave me here?" Alex said.
"No, I'll take you with me. Maybe I can use you," Mulder said.
Finishing a through brushing, Krycek bowed his head and said, "I want
to shower."
"I was about to tell you to take care of that. You really smell like
the gutter now," Mulder remarked.
Listening to the water splash down, Mulder irresistibly was drawn to
the cramped bathroom with its peeling tiles and greenish-gray grout.
He hastily undressed and pushed his way into the shower enclosure.
Krycek moved back; didn't seem startled or reluctant.
"It's going to be that way?" Krycek asked.
"You have an objection?" Mulder said.
"You think I'm lying scum and you still want to sleep with me?"
Krycek said.
"That's not the Mulder I knew."
"Things have changed," Mulder said, "More than you can know."
A swift motion and the water ran down their bodies as they pressed
hot and hard against each other. Alex gasped as Mulder's mouth
bruised his. Deep kiss, no need for oxygen, nothing but naked need
and longing between them.
"I want you," Mulder growled. "You are mine."
"Yours," Alex agreed. "Yours."
Tumbling onto the lumpy, stale mattress, Mulder's hands explored
familiar territory. He stroked the left arm repeatedly. He found no
trace of scar. Krycek tasted the same. The sounds he made as Mulder
caressed him were the same. His hot, tight passage that yielded to
Mulder seemed the same. His frantic groans of pleasure, the way his
head fell back against the mattress, his throat bared in submission,
his beautiful eyes half shuttered by his long lashes were all the man
Mulder had once known.
It was like a magical tale. Mulder had suffered. He had seen the
wraith of his beloved defeated and now, delivered by woodsman, had
regained his lover.
The truth...
Was out there.
But this lie, this deceit of the senses...
Mulder embraced it. It was enough.
Morning came, even in Russia. Pale, watery sunlight illuminated
Alex's features. He looked as if he was carved of jewels. Jade eyes,
garnet highlights in his chestnut hair. His features were delicate
and sharp.
Mulder watched him sleep. His...
You look for the truth. You look for justice. You sacrifice nearly
everything to do what you think is right.
And now?
Scully had what she needed. Mulder had left before she realized that
he was not the man she wanted in her life and not the father for her
son. Neither Mulders nor Spenders made good fathers. Better to
go...leave her for Walter, Doggett, and Reyes to protect.
Mulder had gone seeking peace. Seeking answers to the growing
uneasiness and dissatisfaction in his life. He hadn't known what was
missing, just that he felt empty, grieved, and driven.
And he had found Alex.
It felt right, even if his mind could not wrap around the logic of
why this discarded lover was what he needed. Mulder stroked back a
loose tendril of hair from Alex's forehead.
Alex's eyes shot open and his hands tightened on the blankets. Mulder
placed a reassuring and possessive hand on his shoulder. "You're
okay; I have you."
"That must have been what had me worried," Alex said. "What do you
really want from me?"
"Sex, Alex, subjugation...and sex. A few answers wouldn't hurt
though," Mulder said, moving to straddle his lover.
"Such as," Alex asked with a closed expression on his face.
"Such as what happened after you jumped off the truck?" Mulder said.
"You acted as if you knew, the way you were checking my arm back
there," Alex said. "I ran a long way. I wanted to be clear of you and
the camp. I was ready to dump it all at that point. I had tried to
get out from under it, but you took my playing card away...or at
least the Oilien did. Maybe it would have caught me anyway."
The shudder that ran through Alex and the dark look in his eyes were
not feigned. He covered his face with his arm, his left arm, and
said, "I remember falling a couple times. I hit the ground hard and
hurt my arm. It was dislocated I think. Then I saw the Russians in
the woods. I was so tired and frightened that it took me a few
minutes to notice they all had their left arms missing. I suppose I
thought it was some cruel experiment. They gave me some soup to eat
and a blanket by the fire to keep me warm. I was exhausted and I went
to sleep like a fool. Next thing I knew they were holding me down and
cutting me. They were cutting my arm off! I remember screaming and
trying to fight, but there were too many of them. I passed out and..."
Alex frowned and said, "It seemed as if the oil was in me again. I
remember the way it felt. I was there, but not in control. I knew
something was wrong, very wrong, and then I was wandering through the
woods freezing. That's when the Russian Rebels found me, I guess. I
was very confused for a long time, simple-minded. The only reason
they kept me around was that I would work hard and...for my looks.
They don't have wives. They only tested the men you see and the
women...the women move away. They want husbands with two arms."
"You want an answer to your mystery?" Mulder said, "I'll help you."
There was a long silence and then a pure Alex answer, "I guess I
never could stand to be kept in the dark. I'm in. We'll go to a place
I know where the old men hide their secrets."
"This is the place; if the information is anywhere," Alex said. He
turned around, seeking reassurance.
"I'm with you," Mulder said. He stared up the mountainside and
said, "An Essene cave?"
"The Englishman had a sense of humor," Alex replied, "which greatly
perturbed the First Elder... Come on, Mulder, maybe all the answers
are here."
The climb was long. They entered a white walled cave. Faded paintings
decorated the walls. Alex said, "This was looted a long time ago. The
Englishmen had a thing about the Essenes. He'd wanted to be an
archeologist after his military service, but he came from a long line
of politicians. His family didn't think much of scrabbling around in
the dust and bones."
Mulder managed to stop panting. He followed Alex's back as the
passage narrowed. Finally, they squeezed behind a boulder and Alex
shone a flashlight on the wall. There was a stone door. Alex
shouldered it open and they confronted an apparent dead end, a
bricked up passage. Alex fumbled at the wall and pushed a lever. The
wall slid aside and revealed another passage. Mulder coughed as dust
swirled from the floor of the cave.
"There's a hanger buried in the desert, but this was the Englishman's
back door into it. He always liked to know that he had a way in and
out of the Consortium's rat holes. When he decided to make me his
heir to his place in the Consortium, he made me memorize every hidden
passage. He told me this one held my secret...something I probably
did not want to know."
The passage ended in a room full of cabinets with paper files. A dim
light had switched on at their entrance. There was dust over
everything.
Mulder moved his flashlight around the room, but Krycek went directly
to the files. After a few moments, Mulder searched too.
Automatically, he searched under Mulder. There were file folders with
that name, but they hung empty.
A thump sounded and Alex said, "Someone took the files. I can find my
name, over and over, but the folders are empty. There are some
labels; training, controls, relationships, testing...a subfolder
labeled Palingenesis under testing. What the hell is palingenesis?"
Mulder said, "Shh, let me think..."
The words of his biology teacher echoed, " exact reproduction of
ancestral
characteristics"
Mulder didn't realize that he had spoken aloud until he saw Alex's
puzzled frown.
Alex said, "What does that have to do with me?"
"Perhaps you were part of a long term breeding project?" Mulder said.
"The Englishman said I was an orphan, chosen for the project because
I was intelligent and healthy. I was someone no one would miss..."
Alex said.
Mulder hesitated, thinking of the one armed Alex. It couldn't be what
he was considering. If the alien had altered Alex's body to replicate
itself, then wouldn't Alex's arm have grown back like a starfish's?
"I don't know. Perhaps, it was an experiment? Don't worry about it.
Let's look through any files that remain," Mulder said.
There were only routine files left. Someone had been here and
destroyed almost every hint of the myriad and twisted Consortium
projects. Computers and discs had been removed.
Hours later, Mulder looked over at Alex who was sitting surrounded by
files. Bleakly, Alex looked up and said, "There are other places,
Mulder."
"Maybe, we're not meant to know," Mulder said softly. "Let's go
someplace, Alex. Let's find a life."
"And never know what they did to me?" Alex asked.
"You have a second chance at life, Alex. Do you want to waste it
trying to find out why or do you want to live it? All I know is that
I'm tired. I need some time. I need you, Alex. You were the one I was
looking for. My answer," Mulder said.
As Alex stood up, Mulder met him and embraced him. He said, "I love
you. That's the mystery we don't need to solve."
"I love you too," Alex said, "Never really stopped."
Later...
It was just a house on the seaside. England felt like home to Mulder
and Alex seemed content wherever he was. Mulder watched Alex reading
in the sun room. They were finding a calm place in the storm. Mulder
didn't expect it to last forever, but it was what he needed for now.
Alex glanced back at him and smiled happily.
Maybe someday, he and Alex would go after them, but not now. This was
the life they had joked about when Alex had been his partner. Of
course, they had expected to be old when it happened, or Mulder did.
Two happy old gay men idling away the last years of their lives.
The phone rang and Walter's voice came over the line. "Mulder, how
are you doing?"
"I'm fine," Mulder said.
"William took his first step today," Skinner said. "Scully said she
would send you pictures."
"Good, that's good," Mulder said. As he'd expected, Scully was moving
on with her life. She had never needed him the way he'd needed her.
He could never be the husband she had desired. He still loved her.
Would always love her.
His eyes roamed back to Alex. Sometimes the heart had a compass of
its own.
Palingenesis... The idea kept coming back, worrying him.
"Walter, what did you do with Krycek's body?" Mulder asked.
"A man in black took him. He said that there would be no part big
enough to identify..." Walter said. He sounded as if Mulder had
stabbed him. Walter said, "I want to forget, Mulder. I'll regret it
the rest of my life..."
"I won't bring it up again," Mulder said.
"Thank you, Agent...Mulder," Skinner replied, sounding old.
It was approaching summer. Mulder stroked Alex's back as he settled
beside him. He didn't want to know how the part reproduced the memory
of the whole. What mattered was that Alex was as he always was.
Mulder leaned over to plant a kiss on his lover's pale flesh. His
beautiful one had returned.
In the garden, a pale form appeared and another. Green eyes looked
into green eyes. Each sought what they needed. Each duplicated the
yearning that was an integral part of the whole. One of them worked
the locks as the others looked on.
Mulder turned over in his sleep. His arm found Alex's warmth and
brought him near. Alex snuggled closer without waking.
In the dark, a hand touched him and another. And another.
All the severed parts replicated the whole.
Replicated the yearning.
The need.
Sought Mulder and found him...
"Beloved," they spoke, "Mulder..."
The end
From Satina, the word was:
It was nearly the exact same time of year that he had come through
here with Krycek...back when he still had hope. He remembered his
eagerness to confront his enemy. He believed that the truth would be
the weapon to bring the conspiracy down.
Palingenesis
n. Resuscitation; rebirth; metempsychosis; exact reproduction of
ancestral characteristics.
Palingenesian, palingenetic, a. palingenesist, n.
