by Draig
He glanced down at his hand that was covering the knife wound in his side.
He had been lucky to win the fight, had nearly lost it and all because he
had been stupid. Had foolishly believed that because the man had dropped
his gun that he was unarmed, he saw that as a sign of just how exhausted he
really was, for normally he would not have let his guard down like that,
especially as he usually carried more the one weapon himself.
The world wobbled and he knew that he had to get on; could not afford to
rest, not here. They would be looking for him, and if he were not careful
they would find him. They were now hunting as a pack, which made them
doubly dangerous.
The large tower block suddenly loomed above him. The lit apartments giving
an indication of just how tall it was. The front entrance was large, well
lit and welcoming, but he knew that he could not go in that way. Security
would not allow him to enter, so he had to find another way in. The
underground- parking garage, which was the only way in that would not
attract unwanted attention.
He stopped in the shadow of a side doorway and waited, patiently, for one of
the residents to either enter or leave by car. Finally the wrought iron
gates slid open and he readied himself to run as soon as the car was far
enough out of sight to allow him to enter unseen.
Ten minutes later he was leaning against the brickwork, next to the
elevator, blinking owlishly up at the lights as they numbered down to the
parking basement. He moved back out of sight, just in case there was anyone
in the elevator. He had come too far now to be caught out by such a simple
mistake.
The doors slowly opened but no one stepped out. He waited a few seconds
before he moved forward, slipping inside just as the doors closed. He
tripped and crashed against the panelling. Reaching out a shaking, bloody
hand, he fought to keep himself upright. He needed to stay conscious long
enough to seek help. With a trembling finger he pushed the button for the
floor he wanted and then prayed that he would make it.
The floors slowly slid by and he counted them off, knowing that with each
foot he travelled he was closer and closer to staying alive, at least he
hoped that he was. There was always the chance, a very real possibility,
that he would be rejected; have to leave the building and try to survive in
the bitter weather outside. Where *they* were waiting. Where death stood
patiently holding his scythe, knowing that eventually he would stumble into
his cold embrace.
The elevator tinged and the doors opened. With a start he realized that it
was his floor, that he needed to leave the sanctuary of the metal coffin and
seek outside help.
His blood loss was so great now that he was unable to walk unaided and had
to lean on the wall just to move along the corridor, taking great care not
leave any bloody hand prints behind him. He reached the door that he
wanted, and lifting a shaking hand he knocked, it was feeble and hardly
sounded at all, but within a few seconds he heard movement behind the door.
After what seemed a long time, the door slowly creaked open and he smiled
warmly, the look freezing on his face as the world tilted and he slumped
unconscious into the arms of the surprised man, who exclaimed, "Krycek!"
Skinner looked down at the man who had fainted into his arms and didn't know
weather to laugh or cry. Laugh because holding an unconscious Krycek was
the last thing he had ever expected to be doing, or cry because holding an
unconscious Krycek could only mean trouble.
He realised that he had to fight two urges, one to just drop him on the
floor at his door, slam it shut and leave him for someone else to find, and
worry about. Two take him in and tend to his wounds.
Finally it was the wet feeling of blood seeping onto his shirt that decided
him, and with surprisingly little effort he swung the other man up in his
arms and carried him into the apartment, using one foot to catch and slam
the door firmly closed behind them.
Skinner looked about the apartment and considered where he was going to lay
his burden. He didn't really want to place him in his own bed as it held
too many memories he would rather forget. So he took him into the spare room
and laid him on the unmade bed.
Standing, he then took the time to look down at the other man and consider
what he was really going to do with him. Krycek, he noted, looked as if he
had been missing a few meals and the dark smudges under his eyes told of
missed sleep as well. Life didn't look as if it had been treating him well.
With a sigh, Skinner found it difficult to be very sympathetic towards the
other man.
Yet, Krycek was now bleeding over his mattress and Skinner really did need
to stop the bleeding. Otherwise he would be talking to the police, trying to
explain away a dead body in his apartment's spare room. With another sigh
he bent forward and carefully opened the jacket and shirt to reveal a nasty,
jagged wound, probably made by a knife.
Knowing what he was now facing, he left and room and went in search of his
well-stocked first aid kit, a bowl of water and some old towels that he
could use to clean the wound. When he returned he carefully undressed
Krycek and soon had the wound clean and bandaged. He then set out some
painkillers and water beside the bed.
He moved Krycek to a large chair while he set about making up the bed. As
he moved about he kept an eye on the injured man, but Krycek was totally out
of it, and never made a sound as he was carefully lifted back onto the clean
sheets and placed securely under the warm blankets.
Finally, as a precaution, Skinner collected his handcuffs and secured the
flesh and blood arm to the top railing. He did not want this man to
disappear on him once he awoke, and it was getting late and Skinner was not
so sure that he would remain awake enough to protect himself if needed.
This man had always been one of his weak spots.
The night passed slowly and Skinner kept a careful watch on his uninvited
guess. In the small hours Krycek began to toss and turn as a fever caught
hold of his body, and it was after a few failed attempts that Skinner
finally managed to get some crushed pain killers into the other man's body.
By six the next morning, Skinner was in need of a few hours sleep and Krycek
was snoring like a unconcerned baby, his mouth slightly open and his unruly
hair laying across his forehead, giving an impression of innocence that tore
at Skinner's heart.
By eight, Skinner had contacted the office, called in sick, and Krycek was
showing signs of waking. By the time the AD returned after showering and
refilling his mug with strong coffee, Krycek was awake, looking at him
groggily as he struggled to come to terms with the fact that he was awake,
weak, and more importantly, handcuffed to the bed.
"Never thought you liked it kinky Skinner... but I should have guessed," he
gasped with a weak smile, licking at dry lips and determined not to cough,
as he knew it was only going to cause him pain.
"You never stuck around long enough to find out," Skinner spat back, before
he picked up the glass of water beside the bed and assisted Krycek to drink.
He then patiently handed him some more painkillers and steadied him as he
swallowed them down with some more water.
After Krycek was settled back on the bed, Skinner asked in a voice that was
hard and bitter, "What the hell are you doing here Krycek?"
The other man closed his eyes for a few seconds, fighting against the pain
the other man's tone inflicted, then gathering himself he answered, "I
needed... need...." He stopped suddenly, and Skinner surmised from the look
of him that he was fighting off either a wave of nausea or dizziness.
"Needed a hole to crawl into, so your knife wielding buddies didn't find
you?" Skinner snarled, his anger suddenly flaring. He was not prepared to go
on another wild ride with Alex Krycek. The man had used up and tossed aside
any feelings that Skinner might have had for him.
"No," Krycek snapped back, opening his eyes and glaring back angrily. "I
needed to warn you..."
"Warn me..." Skinner interrupted with a laugh, "You warn me... that's like a
snake telling it's next lunch to look out." The words were bitter and
sharp, and both men knew there was so much anger behind the words that if
unleashed might leave both of them torn and battered.
"I didn't have to come to you..." Krycek gasped with building rage,
forgetting about his cuffed hand and struggling to rise. His wound, and the
steel holding him, prevented him from moving too far, and he slumped back
with a groan.
"Don't start acting the hero now Krycek, otherwise I might actually think
the world is really coming to an end." Even Skinner was surprised at how
cold he sounded, but he pushed that aside as he continued, "Now what the
hell do you want, and give me one good reason why I shouldn't just toss your
sorry ass out of this apartment."
"You need me."
Again the bitter laugh. "One time you might have held some appeal to me
boy... but not now... now you're nothing but a half- starved, one-armed
cripple who by the looks of it can't even whore for a living."
Krycek absorbed the words, all expression vanishing from his face as he
answered his tone almost dead. "But you wanted it once big man.... You
begged for it then... didn't you..."
"And like any cheap little slut you gave it over without a second thought...
man you knew how to wiggle your ass back then didn't you."
"Only because I was ordered to, and believe me SIR," Krycek snarled, his
eyes flashing green fire as he spat the words out, "You weren't anything to
write home about..."
Before he could finish Skinner was on him, yanking him painfully up from the
bed, and punching him back down. Krycek cried out in pain, but then snapped
his mouth shut and closed his eyes as he saw the rage of the man above him.
He was totally helpless to prevent the beating he knew was coming. Suddenly
he felt the cuffs being released, and then he was dragged up and thrown
across the room. Before he could stand, Krycek was grabbed again dragged
from the room, and tossed down the stairs. Then a door was opened and he
landed hard against another wall. The door slammed shut.
Krycek slid down and lay panting; fighting against the agony that coursed
through his body. He swallowed, coughed and fought back the whimper of
pain; fought to opened his eyes, and saw that he was back in the corridor
outside Skinner's apartment, the door firmly closed on him.
He shuddered and sighed, at least he had his trousers on, no top, socks or
shoes, but he was halfway decently dressed, but damn he didn't have his arm,
and he didn't really feel like knocking and asking for it back. He
considered just lying there, making a mess outside Skinner's door until one
of his neighbours came along and found him. But he knew that would be
signing his death warrant, as they would no doubt call an ambulance, or the
police, and then his details would flash across every law enforcement
computer terminal in the city, and they would be after him again.
With fading strength he staggered up the wall to his feet and wrapping his
one good arm about the wound in his side he began to hobble slowly towards
the elevators. He didn't even know how long he'd been unconscious while in
Skinner's apartment, or if it was still night outside.
He paused by the elevator and then discarded the idea of using it. The risk
was too high of someone else getting in on the way down. With that thought
in mind he staggered the few extra feet to the stairwell, and began to
flounder towards the basement level. After the first two floors Krycek
realised that he really couldn't be bothered any longer. He had come to
Skinner to warn him, to admit his feeling for him, and yet like everything
else in his life he had ruined his chance, had let his smart mouth take over
and it had lost him the only thing he had ever really wanted. So when he
reached the next landing he allowed his exhausted body to slip down to rest
on the cold, concrete floor. As his senses swirled away from him he,
realised that he actually welcomed the coming darkness. He really didn't
want to play this game of life any more, and if finding his dead body in the
stairwell caused Skinner any problems, well then it was just tough for him.
Part Two
Skinner slammed his way back into the kitchen and leaning over the sink,
shaking with rage, he took a few deep steadying breaths. Finally, after
several minutes, he made his way back up to the spare bedroom, determined to
remove any sign of his unwanted visitor. But when he entered the room and
saw Krycek's prosthesis lying on the chair near the closet he felt a flicker
of concern.
Krycek had been injured, was weak from blood loss and obviously in ill
heath, and now he was outside with no shirt, jacket or shoes and only one
arm with which to protect himself. Skinner hated it, loathed the fact that
he was standing there feeling guilty over throwing the low life rat-bastard
out of his apartment.
With a sigh of frustration he spun about and swiftly made his way back
downstairs. At the door he paused, considering his actions, did he really
want to take Krycek back in? He frowned, did he really have a choice.
Slowly he opened the door, fully expecting to see the other man still lying
against the opposite wall where he had tossed him. Skinner knew a moment of
absolute fear when he saw that the corridor was empty.
With growing haste he left the apartment and made his way to the elevator.
Somehow he knew that Krycek would not have used it, as it was too open to
discovery, and with that thought in mind he swung open the door to the
stairwell and hurriedly made his way down.
He stopped a few floors down and let out a small breath of relief when he
saw Krycek lying, unconscious; his arm twisted protectively about his body
as he lay huddled against the wall, shaking. Without further thought the
older man bent down and gently scooped Krycek into his arms and carried him
back upstairs as quickly as he could, for he was concerned by the chills
that shuddered through the other man.
He soon had Krycek back in the bed in the spare room and under the warm
covers. Without thinking Skinner reached out and swept a stray lock of dark
hair back from the fevered forehead and then bending he placed a gently kiss
where his fingers had lovingly lingered.
Alex Krycek knew that he was safe, warm and content, and he luxuriated in
the feeling, as he had not felt it for so long. He sighed and attempted to
turn over in the bed, but his side flared in protest and he gasped in agony
coming awake.
He blinked, and then blinked again. He was back in the bed in which he had
awoken that morning! The covers tucked closely round him were warm and
welcoming, and he really didn't want to leave them. Slowly, he tilted his
head and saw Skinner sitting in a chair, positioned between him and the
door. The man appeared to be sleeping, with his eyes closed and his face
relaxed. Krycek considered his options, and came to the conclusion that he
really didn't have any.
He carefully pulled back the covers, and shaking in the sudden cold, he
attempted to sit up. Suddenly Skinner was there, leaning over him, his face
tightened with annoyance. "Toilet." Krycek gasped by way of explanation for
his attempt to leave the bed.
Skinner's stance relaxed slightly and he offered one arm to assist Krycek's
shaking form into the bathroom.
Krycek waited to see if the other man would leave him once there, but
Skinner just ignored him and patiently waited until the invalid had
finished, then assisted him back to bed, where he again fed him two
painkillers washed down with some water.
Neither man seemed keen on mentioning their earlier argument, as if they
were both ashamed of losing their tempers. Once resting back against the
pillows Krycek slowly began to talk, refusing to meet the other man's eyes.
This was what he had come to say to Skinner, and after facing so many
dangerous situations in his short life, why was this the hardest thing he
had ever had to do. "They ordered me to kill you... with the nanocytes..."
He paused and swallowed, "But I couldn't... I just couldn't do it... it was
my one real chance to get back in their good books and I blew it... they
were not pleased with me." He laughed at that, it was a small bitter sound.
"I think that's when they decided to really get me out of the way... you
see... I was not... not controllable... a danger to their great plan... so
they tried to take me out... but I..." again he stopped. Closing his eyes he
fought to gather his emotions and strength. "I managed to get away... I had
some contacts so I was able to disappear for a while. I worked on my own.
I'd done it before so I was able to just pick up from there... even with
only one arm there is still a market for a one-armed assassin." This was
said with a slight giggle, but his face became serious as he continued, "But
then... then I heard that they were going to use it on you again... the
nanocytes, I had to do something...." He stopped again, this time he seemed
to shrink in on himself, as if what he remembered gave him pain. "I found...
found a way into their lab... the one where they were working on the
nanocytes...." Seeing the look this earned him from Skinner, he sighed, and
offered, "Yeah, they're still... were still working on them, had a new
expert and everything... Oh man... the tests they were doing there
Skinner... it's... it was even more inhuman then what the aliens are
planning for us...." Again he paused while he struggled to push that memory
back behind the tightly closed shutters where it belonged.
"Alex..." Skinner began, realising that pain this confession was causing the
other man, but Krycek held out his hand, if he was going to do this, he
needed to do it now before his courage failed him.
"No... I need... you need to know, they are still after you Walter... you
need to be ready for them.... They consider you a threat and they will take
you out... you know what they can do, how ruthless they are..."
"I know Alex, but..." Skinner stopped he could see from Krycek's eyes that
he needed to finished, "I'm sorry Alex, please." he indicated that Krycek
could continue and the other man took a breath and started.
"I managed to get to the palm pilot... the one they had set up for you... I
destroyed it, they can never harm you again with it." he looked towards his
one time lover and reaching out a hand he sighed when it was caught and held
tightly. It gave him the strength to continue. "I destroyed the lab as
well... everyone... everything... the scientist, the experiments... I
destroyed them all..." Krycek's voice caught as his emotions spilled out
from him. He could close his eyes and still see the tormented faces of the
experiments, hear their screams as the flicking fire from the explosions he
set, slowly burned towards them. Forcing that memory aside he pushed on,
knowing that his time here was short, as the longer he stayed with Skinner
the higher the risk to the other man.
"Mulder is still protected," Krycek continued, a frown marring his handsome
face. "For some reason he is necessary to them, so is Scully. They now know
that they can control him with her... so they will keep her safe.... But
you... you are not... they see you as a threat... and they will come for
you... but I can help you... if you'll let me...." He glanced up at Skinner
a look of hope entering his eyes. "I've made some arrangements... got you...
new papers, money, a safe place for you to hide out... everything you need
to disappear for a while and be safe."
"Why?" Skinner had to ask, the confusion clearly heard in his tone, "WHY are
you doing this? Helping me?"
Krycek looked at the man who was now sitting beside him on the bed, and at
their clasped hands before he offered, "I can't help it... you... you were
the only one...." He suddenly had to push back the overwhelming emotions
that flooded him as he whispered, "You treated me like a human being
Walter.... You didn't just take, and take... like the others... you... you
gave to me as well... when we had sex... you..." he stopped suddenly unable
to continue, as he licked at lips that had suddenly failed him as they
trembled.
Skinner reached out and carefully rested a hand on the other man's pale
cheek and finished, "When we had sex... I made love to you."
The head slowly nodded, the green eyes blinked lazily before Krycek tilted
his face slightly and set a gentle, loving kiss on the palm cupping his
cheek. Skinner suddenly felt his mouth go dry, and his heart speed up as he
was caught and held in the green eyes of the man who rested before him.
Without thought he found himself leaning forward and their lips met in a
faltering, searching kiss, that grew with intensity until they were wrapped
about each other. Seeking and finding the strength to melt together once
more, to form the bond that had existed before Krycek had been forced to
betray his lover. Finally Krycek's weakness caught up with him, and he had
to break the kiss to breathe.
Both men were gasping and leant into each other unwilling and unable to
break the newly found contact. Finally Krycek gasped. "Damn you... I didn't
want this... I can't do this... I want you safe... with me you will never be
safe." He finally confessed, his eyes shimmering with tears as he looked at
the man he could no longer deny he loved.
Skinner placed his large hands on either side of Krycek's head and, holding
him steady, he carefully kissed the lips again, then his nose, and both
eyes. Then said gently, "You don't have a choice Alex... you never did...
and I am never going to let you go now... we can face this together... work
together... you know that... that's why you came...."
"I came" Alex stressed, "To warn you..." Krycek opened his eyes and looked
into the face that he had fought so hard not to love, and had failed. "I
just wanted to warn you..." he whispered, before he swallowed hard, even he
could hear the lie in the tone.
"Alex we can no longer pretend that they are not out there, that they are
not trying to destroy our world or us... now we can either lay down and give
up, accept what they are doing, or we can really start to fight this...
together... on our terms... Damn it Alex... we no longer have a choice
here."
The injured man lay still, soaking up the closeness of the other man, before
he finally had to nod his defeat. He had known when he made his way to
Skinner's apartment that he would be signing his life away; he had just not
realised that it would be to the man he loved.
"What about Mulder?" Krycek asked, knowing that Skinner was fiercely loyal
to the man.
"We shall still be there helping him... feeding him information... just like
you have in the past."
Krycek suddenly drew back slightly and looked deeply into the eyes of the
face he knew so well. "You knew? You knew it was me?" he questioned,
unable to hide his surprise.
"Knew... no.... Suspected... yes," Skinner confessed. "The information was
too complete, too useful to have just been passed down by someone who only
knew part of what was happening, and some of the information came from areas
where you had been sighted.... At times it felt like it was a long shot, but
I guess I always hoped that it was you. The tall handsome man confessed,
looking slightly ill at ease.
"Why?" Krycek had to ask his voice sounding husky from all his talking.
"Because I couldn't believe, wouldn't believe that you were totally bad,
that you were really just in it for yourself... you had been too... too
caring when we were together... in bed... you thought only of my pleasure...
never your own..."
"That could have just been my training... how they... how I was taught."
Krycek shuddered at that suddenly memory, and Skinner gathered him closer,
wanting to wash away all of the suffering this man had enduring in his short
life.
"How long?" Skinner suddenly asked as the reality of the situation came back
to him, looking over the other's head at the wall, as he calculated how much
time they had before they came after them, they had to be aware that Krycek
had disappeared in the area of Skinner's apartment.
"How long?" Krycek questioned not fully understanding the question.
"You said they would come after me... us... how long do we have... can you
take the time to heal up... can I set some things in motion at work... how
much time do we have before we have to move on from here?"
Krycek frowned, his face shattered as he continued, "I don't know... the
order was coming down the line before I destroyed the palm pilot, that
action may have sped up the order, or it may have delayed it... I'm sorry."
Skinner pushed the other man away, so that he could look him in the face and
stated clearly, "You have nothing to be sorry about.... That's over with.
Now we have to think of the future... what we need to do.... But first," he
continued, seeing the signs of exhaustion on Krycek's face, "You need to
rest and regain your strength.... Tomorrow... tomorrow we can plan, and do
whatever needs to be done, but for tonight, tonight there is only us, here,
safe."
"I have already set up an escape route for you Walter... you need only
gather a few belongings from here and walk out that door..." Alex's tone was
slurring, as exhaustion began to pull him down.
"I have all I need to take with me in my arms right now Alex." Walter
whispered. He continued to hold him, until Alex finally slipped into a
deep, healing sleep. The future was cloudy before them, but for the first
time since this all began Skinner actually felt like they actually had a
future together.
Fin or not?
he pain wasn't quite as bad as he had first thought. Although it hurt, he
could manage to stumble along. He stopped and squinted into the distance,
he was nearly there. He knew that if he didn't reach safety soon then he
was dead. He was also on a mission, a mission to protect the one person who
had come to mean everything to him. He still found it hard to say the name,
or even to admit to the emotion. However, while he could shut his eyes to
what he saw before him, he was unable to shut his heart, no matter how hard
he tried, there was still a spark of feeling there that was called love, and
it now looked like it was going to be his death warrant.
