by Erika
The Hour Between Waking Dreams
"Daniel," he called to him, gently touching his son's ginger-red hair.
One eyelid opened and then closed as his child burrow deeper into his stuffed toys, fingers coming to circle around a He-Man character, ignoring Alex's call.
Alex picked up the quilted comforter his wife had once made for their bed and placed it along Daniel's shoulders, picking his son up from the floor and then depositing him not too gently on the twin bed.
A loud humph from the boy and Alex controlled the smile forming on his lips.
"Dad," the sleepy voice protested at having been unceremoniously moved. One small hand sneaked out of the covers, lifted up, waiting it would seem for Alex to bent down and receive his intended hug.
Never able to resist his son's affection, Alex allowed himself to be hugged as he kissed his son's eyebrow, adjusting the covers along Daniel's still sleepy body, silently berating himself for this one weakness.
If people knew Alex Krycek had a son...No, he pushed that thought away and instead allowed himself to enjoy this moment with his child. A part of him was thankful that Daniel resembled more his mother than his father.
Daniel yawned aloud, slowly tossing the bed sheets away, moving out of the cocoon Alex had built around him.
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I have a dog?"
"No." Maybe when Daniel was older Alex would get him one, a Rottweiler perhaps to hunt down anyone who would dare hurt him.
"Aww...how come?" Daniel's persistence knew no bounds.
Alex sent his son a look. They had talked about this too many times; they did not need to discuss it again.
"Sleep, you have a busy day tomorrow."
Daniel yawned one more time, blue eyes again closing but not before he wiggled his pert nose at Alex as if to say, 'I'll try again tomorrow'.
And Alex found himself keeping vigil over his son, needing this silent moment between father and child to reconfirm what he knew all along, that the fight against the Greys must continue for Daniel deserved everything Alex could give him. His chance for a normal life.
Impossible Dreams
He never thought this day would come, that he would actually be able to retire from his job. In the past he had assumed that he would never reach this stage, that somehow a bullet would take his life. End things once and for all.
But that did not happen. Instead, he found himself facing early retirement by an agency that was grateful for all his years of service but no longer able to keep him employed. He had been too successful at keeping his end of the bargain, succeeding at his job, proving the existence of the Consortium.
And it had cost Skinner the one thing he cared for.
He had embarrassed the higher ups, and now questions were being asked right, left and centre by the public, the media and other concerned government officials: What was the conspiracy? Who was involved? Did aliens really exist? And was it just a plan, by a connected few, to take over the world?
He had no answers to some of the questions, and too many answers for others. He was now too public a figure to get rid off, to kill, but not to silence. Without his office, without his position to back him up, he became an everyday man. One of many.
As he drove towards his sister's house, Skinner wondered what life would be like without the FBI. Without Mulder to now drive him crazy, without Dana...poor Dana, who was on the run, trying to keep her child safe from harm.
He guessed he was lucky. At least he still had a semblance of a life.
Even if it was a dull one at that.
As Skinner drove through the residential areas of this small town, he quietly observed the children on their bikes, the parents picking their kids up from school, how ordinary the day seemed, and yet how strange.
He had never lived a quiet life and now this was what he had to look forward to.
He turned the corner into another residential street filled with identical houses, all lined up. One of those housed belonged to his sister, a single mother raising her young son.
He was the godfather to the boy, a child he had only met twice in his young life, days after his birth and later at his baptism.
His job had left no room for family. Sharon had known about that...
Probably the only thing he ever regretted about working for the FBI, not having a son to play ball with, or to go fishing with. A child he could teach all the things he wished he had learned. At times he wondered whether he would have been a better man, had he a family to go home to, a son, who would have looked up to him?
Foolish sentimental thoughts from an old man. He hadn't had time for his marriage, let alone a child.
He had been loyal only to one mistress, his job; all others had been dismissed or abandoned, not deemed worthy.
He turned into the driveway of a beige home, with a front porch in desperate need of paint and a lawn that had seen better days.
Skinner knocked on the door of 54 Lincoln Drive and frowned slightly when a red-haired boy of ten opened its door.
Either he had the wrong house or his sister had forgotten to tell him she'd had another child.
He couldn't help looking at the child, the boy who had opened the door, his godson's friend. Skinny and lean, red hair and freckled face, friendly...words one would usually use to describe a puppy seemed somehow to fit this kid.
The child, Daniel, reminded him of someone. The boy's face was like a puzzle where the pieces didn't quite fit, belonging more to a different picture.
Strange. It felt as though he had met him before.
"Gilbert seems to have grown up a bit." His nephew resembled his own father, dark hair, lean and long face. Shy kid, head probably always buried in a book.
His sister smiled. "You always have such a way with words," Katherine teased her brother.
He had been an absentee uncle, and not a much better older brother at that, but Katie had always made him feel welcomed. She had never gotten over her hero worship of him. The little girl, who had watched from her bedroom window as her older brother had gone off to war, still believed in him and seemed quite willing to indulge Skinner as he experienced his mid-life crisis.
He nodded toward his nephew's friend. "You're raising two now?"
She tossed the small pillow at him, "No. His dad is still at work. He'll pick Daniel up after five."
Oh, so that's how it was. "Single father?" Skinner asked. You can take the man out of the FBI but you can't make him drop those detective skills.
"Widower. And stop." She glared at him.
"What?"
"I know what you're thinking. It's nothing like that."
"Really?" He didn't believe her.
Throughout the past hour the instincts that had kept Walter alive ran intently inside of him.
There was something about the boy Daniel that didn't seem to fit. As the hour approached for Daniel's father to pick him up, Skinner found himself standing guard, watching through the front living room windows as the neighbours' children played outside.
Maybe the reason he was feeling this unease was some leftover protective instincts older brothers usually had for their kid sisters.
Even now looking at Katie, he could still see the little pig-tailed girl who endlessly followed him around.
"If you're good, I just might introduce you." She was laughing at him, Walter could tell.
"He'd better treat you right."
"Agh!" she threw her hands in the air. "I give up." Before she turned to leave, she glared at him. "You'd better not embarrass me, mister."
Walter took a step back. Sisters on a warpath were a force to be reckoned with. They were more dangerous than Mulder on the hunt of an alien.
"Be afraid. Very afraid."
"Katherine." He was an FBI agent, okay, ex-agent but still...
"Oh, hush." She looked past him. "Here he comes. Daniel, your father is here." She walked over to open the front door. "Daniel. Gilbert." She called from the bottom of the staircase. "Come down, now." She didn't notice the sudden stillness that had come over her brother.
Skinner couldn't breath. Could not believe what was approaching him. The Dead, walking, breathing and alive. Courting his sister. Skinner had killed him over two years ago, personally pulled the trigger. Had watched as if in slow motion as the bullet had entered the traitor's forehead.
Skinner had killed in cold blood and he had had nightmares about it for days and months.
Now the man he had killed was here, walking up the front porch, ringing the bell, ready to pick up his child.
Any doubts Skinner had as to the identity of the man were dismissed when he heard the voice that haunted his dreams and still fuelled his passion.
Skinner's stomach twisted up in knots and instead of walking towards the door, he quickly headed into the bathroom. His mind replayed the final scene, when in the parking lot of the FBI building, he had raised his gun and shot Krycek in the forehead.
"How long?" he coughed. He'd thrown up into the toilet several times. His throat felt dry and his voice raspy.
"Walter, what's wrong?" Katie touched his pale face.
He waved the hand away. He needed answers, now.
"How long have you known...?" he nodded towards the door, unable to use any other name but Krycek.
"Steven?" she frowned, not understanding his concern. "Are you still going on about Steven? Honestly, Walter, I'm a grown woman. I can take care of myself."
"Can you?" Krycek was alive.
"Steven...I don't think he could ever recover from losing his wife. He loved her dearly."
"How did she...?"
"Die?"
"Yeah."
"Cancer." She paused, still puzzled at her brother's reaction. "I'd never met her. What I do know of her are things that Molly or Daniel shared with me."
"Molly?"
"Daniel's godmother and his mother's best friend. For a while there, she and Steven, they dated but it was too soon. Sometimes, I wonder what they saw in each other, whether it was more about their grief...well, it's none of my business."
Walter crossed his arms. Trying to put this new information within the timetable of events as he knew them.
"Steven is a good man, Walter."
Walter knew what Krycek was capable of, what games Krycek was able to play with people's lives. And if Skinner had any say, Katie would never know.
It didn't take Skinner long to find information about Krycek, Steven Harris that is, an investigative reporter for a San Diego newspaper. He had lost his wife over two years ago. That explained the time period, those months when Krycek had but all disappeared from the face of the earth, only to reappear a few days before William's birth.
Krycek had been here all this time, burying his wife, and hiding in plain sight.
The ex-Consortium member was well known in the community, respect by his peers. A damn good investigative reporter, who covered such news items as corrupt politicians and the social welfare of the community.
In the library, he printed out many of Krycek...Steven's newspaper clippings. Getting to know the man behind the words, unable to believe that the once assassin had something that resembled a normal life.
It didn't seem possible...unless Steven was Krycek's twin.
The only way Skinner knew he could clear up these doubts was to talk to the man himself.
Confront him.
Test him. Force him out of hiding.
Discover once and for all whether the man was Krycek...or just a man.
Skinner followed Krycek for days, getting to know his routine. Work. Home. Work. He didn't really deviate that much from it, a practice that surprised Skinner.
Maybe Krycek didn't feel the need to hide his movements. Maybe he wasn't Krycek after all, Skinner thought as Krycek played soccer with his son, spending a Sunday afternoon in the park.
And Skinner continued to watch. The man moved with a grace that had always been apparent in Krycek's walk.
He looked down at the reports he'd written in his small notebook.
It was almost two years ago to the day since he'd last seen him.
"Hey, Mr. Skinner."
Daniel ran up to him, holding the soccer ball in both his hands, smiling gamely at him.
He looked past the boy to watch as his father came to a standstill. Skinner had doubts that if Krycek had a gun, he would have pulled one out and pointed it at him.
"Daniel." Krycek called to his son, beckoning him away from Skinner. He approached them cautiously. He probably assumed there were other FBI agents nearby.
"Dad, this is Trout's uncle." The boy smiled at his father who only frowned in return.
"Daniel, we shouldn't bother the man. Come on, let's go."
"But, dad..."
"Daniel." Krycek was not leaving any room for arguments.
"Actually, it's all right. You're not bothering me at all." He extended his hand. "Walter Skinner, and you are?"
There was an uncomfortable pause before Krycek offered his own hand in greeting. "Steven Harris."
Alex was not amused.
If Skinner didn't know any better, he'd say the other man was pouting
After Daniel invited Skinner over for supper, Krycek had spend most of the dinner sending Skinner weird looks, something across the line of 'What are you doing here?' and 'If you hurt him, I'll kill you.'
He was surprised how normal things here seemed. Normal, if one included an elephant as a pet.
Skinner had read the newspapers accounts and knew Alex...Steven had been given special permission to house the creature but a part of him wondered 'Why risk it all?' Why didn't Krycek just put the elephant in a zoo and avoid all the publicity that followed?
But as he watched father and son interact, Walter realized that sometimes things really weren't that simple.
How do fathers react when their grieving child asks for the impossible?
Daniel had been put to bed early and both men were sitting on the couch in the living room.
"What do you want to know?" Alex finally asked.
"You're not going to deny it?" asked Skinner, somewhat confused as to why Alex wouldn't just lie to him.
"You're not stupid, Skinner. You know who I am. So, what do you want?" There was a hint of steel behind those words.
"I thought you were dead."
One eyebrow raised. "There was never a body."
"Did I..." he couldn't say the words.
"Yes, you did shot me."
"Then..."
"I don't know how much Mulder told you, about our time in Hong Kong?"
"You were a carrier, for the Oilien." Yes, he remembered the scrambled words as Mulder had tried to describe what he had seen.
"Well, it left me with special abilities."
"Healing factor?" Skinner ventured to guess.
"Yes."
"Can you be killed, permanently?" Was Krycek indestructible? And how much of a threat was he now?
"Don't know and I'm not about to find out."
Another night spent talking about Daniel. What was supposed to have been a short vacation, a couple days spend outside of Washington as Skinner got used to the idea of his retirement, soon stretched from five to ten days.
Time was spent sometimes just reminiscing, others days talking about anything but the X-Files as if both men wanted to forget their past and concentrate instead on something else.
It wasn't long before Daniel's mother was mentioned. The mysterious woman that Katherine said Alex...Steven still loved.
He'd seen pictures of her scattered across the room, sometimes alone but most of the time with either Alex or Daniel. The perfect family.
Skinner wondered who she was and how she had really died.
It seemed somewhat strange that for a man in constant contact with alien beings who were able to cure all sorts of ailments had a wife who had died of cancer.
Skinner still didn't feel comfortable enough to ask Alex what had happened to her. He sometimes did not feel like it was his right to do so.
Instead he waited, trying to find out as much as possible from the things Alex mentioned and those he things he left unsaid.
It became a mystery for him to solve, the real identity of this woman who had captured Krycek's heart.
He had to know. Daniel had invited Trout for a sleep over and as the children slept upstairs, Skinner finally asked, "What happened to her, your wife?"
His question was met with silence.
"She died, that is all there is to it." Alex seemed skittish at the question.
"Maybe, the right question should be 'why did she die?'"
Alex flinched.
"We couldn't risk anyone finding out about Daniel." He sighed deeply. "Once Daniel was born, we had erased all traces of Elizabeth ever existing. It was rather simple. It is not like people in my profession carry a lot of paper work, and once her supervisor within the organization died, well, there was no way for the Consortium to contact her."
"They don't know you are here?" Skinner asked in disbelief.
"The Brit knew, it was after all he who introduced us, but no one else had that information. Was privy to it."
"But I thought..."
"What?"
"I thought you worked for Spender."
"No, I did some odd jobs for the bastard and the Brit would sometimes loan me to others but my own supervisor was a Russian. My initial partnership with Elizabeth...it was part of a deal between the two old countries. They needed to get trusted agents into the American arm of the Consortium. Even then nobody trusted the Cigarette Smoking Man."
"This conspiracy never ends, does it?"
"No. I don't think it ever will."
He felt...he never thought that two people who had been sworn enemies could later have and find so many things in common.
Alex was well versed, with a quick wit that kept Skinner on his toes.
Many a night they spent out on the patio looking up at those same stars Daniel had wished upon. Slowly, they started to share smiles across a distance that to Skinner was getting shorter and shorter.
At times it seemed to him as though they were both engaged in their own private language that bespoke of more important things, of needs that were hinted at but still not mentioned aloud.
For Skinner, it appeared to him as though they were setting up a kind of pattern that usually involved Skinner coming over for supper or coffee bringing Trout, his nephew, along to play with Daniel. Both boys would later go upstairs to play computer games or sometimes outside to take care of Lumpy, the elephant.
And the adults, well, they would mostly be engaged in small talk, the kind that danced around the issue, testing the waters, both unsure as to whether they were reading the signals correctly.
If Skinner didn't know any better, he'd say they were courting.
As the days passed there was still something about the situation that bothered Skinner aside from the subdued flirtation that was taking place between him and Krycek.
While Daniel bore a small resemblance to Krycek, he did not look at all like his mother, Elizabeth. The pictures he had seen of her, well, the 'English Rose' as Krycek called her, was that of a brunette with deep brown eyes.
How the heck did they then end up getting a red haired, blue eyed child?
"Krycek," he started and then stopped at Krycek's irritated expression. "Steven," Skinner continued, "Daniel, he doesn't really look a lot like his mom." It wasn't so much a question as an observation.
They seemed to spend the majority of their time, here in Alex's house, sitting in the living room or out in the patio. Not much time was spend away from the house. It is not like they could go out for dinner. It was as if Alex feared that someone would recognize Walter, somehow tie the ex-FBI agent to him and by extension to Daniel.
"He does look like his mother." A pause as Alex stared in the distance. "His real mother."
"I thought..."
"No, she wasn't." Alex answered anticipating the rest of the question.
"Then who was she?"
If Skinner didn't know any better, it truly looked like Alex was squirming in his seat.
"You know her."
"Who?" What did Alex mean, Skinner knew her? The only red hair he knew was Scully and it wasn't as if Scully would agree to...but she had been barren. William was her miracle child. Her only child. "Scully?" Skinner said her name more out of shock than actual belief she was Daniel's mother.
"I always knew you were smart," was Alex's quick reply.
"How? When?" Scully and Krycek? And where was Mulder when all of this happened?
It just...that was...
Impossible.
And silence again settled in the room as Skinner tried to process this new startling information.
After some time drinking coffee, well, Krycek had offered whisky and vodka but Skinner needed to have all his senses, needed to be alert should Krycek decide to again reveal more shocking information.
"I loved his mother."
"Scully?" Walter asked in disbelief, almost reaching for the unopened vodka bottle on the coffee table.
Alex rolled his eyes. "DNA does not make one a parent."
"Why..." he stopped. Skinner didn't know whether he could ask this question.
"What?"
"Why did you risk it all? I mean, you had the woman you loved, a child, why chance it?" He wanted to understand, what had made Alex Krycek go out there and fight this dirty battle when he had a normal life here as Steven Harris.
"At first, it was just a cover. Two agents playing house, nothing more." Krycek stroked the rim of his cup with his thumb.
"We would go on assignments together or separately, and in time our home became the only safe place where we could relax with someone...the only person who knew what we were going through." He took a sip of his coffee. "It just grew from there. We wanted normality. That was the only reason we were in this war, to guarantee someone, anyone a normal existence, something we didn't have ourselves."
"A love born out of necessity." Skinner concluded.
"No. Respect." Krycek glanced at him. "She was, god, she was everything. She was all woman, and she could kick your butt, kill you, main you and make passionate love." Silence settled between them.
Skinner waited for Krycek to continue.
"I would have given her anything, everything but all she wanted was my child. My seed inside of her, forming a life, but she couldn't do that."
"I'm sorry."
Krycek gave him a small smile.
"But, Steven, why Scully? Why her DNA?" Skinner asked, wanting answers to the questions that had been loudly playing in his mind for the past hour.
"I needed a donor and they gave me the vial that contained her frozen ovaries. I was supposed to have transported it from a clinic near Washington to one of our facilities in Florida." He put his cup down. "I instead took it to a private clinic and had them remove one of the eggs."
"That's...you have to tell her." Skinner thoughts turned to Scully, when she first presented William to him. The joy in her face, how she had glowed.
"Who?"
"Scully."
"What? Are you nuts! She's on the run. Look at what her continued involvement with Mulder is doing to William. I'm not putting my son through that."
"She has a right to know."
"You've seen him, Walter. Daniel is happy...he's...there is no need, I don't want to do that to him."
"Tell him who his real mother is?"
"No, telling him I screwed up." Krycek told him quietly.
"He'll understand."
"He's a child, who thinks his father walks on water. He doesn't ever need to know."
"What if..." There was something else they had to consider.
"What?"
"A...Steven, he has an elephant for a pet. Have you ever wondered whether Daniel..." He couldn't say it. It felt wrong telling Krycek that the young boy upstairs could be an alien.
"No. He's not."
"Steven."
"He can't be. He won't be." Krycek insisted, as if by making Skinner believe in the impossibility of his son being an alien could somehow make it true.
"You can't hide from the truth, Steven. Your son wished for a pet. He looked up to the stars and wished for an elephant. I don't know of any other kid, outside of fairytales, who made a wish upon a falling star and got what he'd wished for."
"He's special. Gifted."
"You're in denial."
"What if I am? He's my son, I have the right to think whatever I want to, Skinner."
Walter shook his head, they were getting nowhere.
"I know what you are trying to say, Walter, I'm not foolish enough to believe that Daniel's DNA was not somehow affected by whatever experiments were performed on Scully, on me, but...he's a good kid and I'm keeping an eye on him and...god, he's growing right now and he's all arms and legs...I look at him and think, 'Was I ever like that?'"
"What if he wishes for something else, Steven?"
"I don't think he could wish for anything bigger than an elephant, Skinner." There was a smile upon Alex's lips.
"You're not taking this seriously."
"I am. I just know what my priorities are, keeping him safe, happy and..." There was an uncomfortable pause.
"Away from me?" Skinner concluded.
"Away from anything connected to the Consortium." Alex clarified. Then frowning slightly, Alex continued. "You have to understand..."
"Believe me, I do." Skinner did understand. Alex loved his son and he didn't want to see him hurt but one couldn't just turn a blind eye to Daniel's abilities or the possibility that in time they could be detected. "How..." he stopped. "How where you able to keep him hidden for so long?"
Daniel's face had been in the newspaper. His story on the front cover page for all the world to see. A boy and his elephant. Skinner was surprised nobody in the X-Files had detected that piece of news. Mind you, at the time, his office had been busy, what with Mulder's disappearance and the change of staff.
Still, the news coverage had been dangerous. A record now existed on Daniel should anyone bother to look.
"Walter, you think too much like an FBI, someone who follows the rules and not enough like...me."
"Come again."
"Everyone knows Daniel exists. School officials, neighbours, faithful readers of my column and newspaper know that Steven Harris, a well known home town boy making good, a reporter, has a son. Should anyone take him, they won't be able to erase that, Walter. They can't brainwash a whole city. The best way to protect Daniel was by having him in plain sight."
"Then...what are you afraid of?" Why are you afraid of me? The question, while implied, remained unsaid.
"There is a difference between plain sight and utter stupidity, Walter."
Walter found himself flinching at those words.
Alex got up from the couch and started to pace. "I can't...won't lose him."
After their last conversation when Alex had told him about Elizabeth a certain unease had settled between them.
Skinner had began to realize that for a man who had faced down aliens and crazed FBI agents, Alex was afraid, truly afraid that something could happen to his son.
That for all the precautions Alex had taken, in the end they may never be enough.
Just as Skinner thought things between them were getting back to normal, well as normal as one could make it, Alex surprised him by introducing him to Molly.
She was.
She just was.
Even though Katie had mentioned her, Skinner had forgotten...pushed the existence of this woman from his mind.
A mistake.
She was...there was nothing wrong with her. She was kind and considerate, lovely to look at and genuinely fond of both Steven and Daniel.
And they were fond of her.
Skinner could not ignore the truth staring at him, Molly was competition for Alex...Steven's affection.
Serious competition.
All those days and nights when Alex made time for him where now a thing of the past. Instead of it being Skinner, Alex and Daniel having supper, it changed as Molly was included in the mix and Skinner was slowly being left out.
Skinner has began to wonder whether he'd misinterpreted Alex's attraction for him.
And as he watched Molly prepare supper with Alex standing by her side, Skinner began to suspect he may have been wrong all along.
Daniel was in the kitchen helping Molly with the clean up when Skinner decided to take his chance and get answers from Alex.
"What game are you playing at?"
"What do you mean?"
They were in the hallway headed toward the living room when Skinner pushed Alex against the wall, trapping him there.
"Hey!"
Being this close to Alex was...Skinner shook his head to clear his thoughts.
"You...I'm not a toy to be played with." There was a hint of bitterness in Skinner's voice. He was tried of seeing Alex and Molly engage in their own private dance. A dance that a few days ago had involved a totally different couple.
"I...it's not...look I never promised you anything."
At least Alex acknowledged there had been something.
"You did. Your body...you hinted at many things, Alex." Skinner whispered harshly, ignoring Alex's previous request to be called Steven.
How many times in the past few weeks had Alex touched Skinner? How many times had Alex's hand lingered far more than was necessary?
And what about all those smiles shared and freely given?
"Look, you and I...we can't...Molly is good for Daniel."
Alex broke off, as if the proximity of Skinner's body to his own was somehow affecting him.
Realizing this, Skinner pressed his body more alongside Alex's. One of his hands rested upon Alex's hip, while the other caressed the side of Alex's neck.
Alex gasped and his body seemed to arch into Walter. "We can't."
"We could."
"Daniel needs..."
"What about your needs?" Skinner leaned forward to kiss Alex on the lips only to have other man pull away.
"It is not that simple."
"Life never is."
To say Skinner had been blindsided by all of this would be to mock what he was feeling. Skinner was attracted to Alex, to the mystery that still hid within the man, the father, who loved his child.
Alex was...there really were no words to describe him. He was an infuriating, egotistical, downright dangerous individual who was nevertheless involved in the Boy Scouts because it was something his son wanted.
And he was a good father, not only to Daniel but also to his son's best friends, Trout and Butterbutt.
He took the kids to baseball games, played soccer and football with them and took care of an ever growing elephant named Lumpy.
Was it so wrong to want to be a part of this?
Walter didn't think so, but Alex, well, he wasn't too keen on the idea.
Alex still seemed to be dating Molly, if somewhat half-heartedly, as if a part of him wanted to complete the lovely picture they represented: father, mother, child.
It pained Walter to watch this, the courting, especially knowing that if circumstances were different, it would've been him not Molly who would have shared Alex's life.
He was also getting weary of the continuing mixed messages.
Alex wanted to spend time with him and yet pushed him away.
At times Walter felt the only way to get Alex to react, for him to acknowledge what was still happening between them was to confront him. To force him to look at Walter. Force him to admit he couldn't have it both ways: Walter on one hand, and Molly on the other.
Walter told himself this every day but a part of him was afraid that in pushing Alex again, he'd be losing him.
And a part of him also wondered if he'd be able to walk away if he were refused?
"Walter, stop." There was a certain harshness in Alex's voice.
"Steven." This wasn't...nothing was going according to plan.
"No."
"Steven, please." Walter was not above pleading.
"I'm not doing this."
"I don't have a say in this?" Walter found himself again cornering Alex, forcing him to answer his questions. His needs.
"Walter, I stopped following my dick a long time ago. I'm not putting my son's life in jeopardy, for you or anyone."
He needed to do something with his hands, for they were itching to go around Alex's neck and choke some sense into him. "Nothing is going to happen to him. I won't let it."
"You can't guarantee that." Alex insisted, pushing himself off the wall. "I haven't risked my life..." He paused, as if to calm himself. He was shaking. His hands were trembling, whether in anger or fear. "Daniel deserves a normal life."
"I know he does."
"He will have a normal life." Alex repeated, as sparkling green eyes locked into brown. Alex would not budge from this point.
"Alex..."
Alex frowned. "Everything I've done, the killing, the fucking, has been to give him what I never had, and nothing, Walter, NOTHING, is going to change that."
"I'm just...all I'm asking for is a chance, Steven. Just a chance."
"He's everything to me." Words spoken softly.
"I know."
"No, Walter. You don't." There was sadness in Alex's eyes as he gazed at Walter. "He trusts me to keep him safe. He believes in me. He's my son."
Walter reached to soothe the pain in Alex's face.
"I can't betray that, Walter." There was a finality to those words that struck at Walter's heart.
He knew...he had always known, Alex couldn't choose anything but his son.
Daniel was such an endearing boy, a testimony of Alex's love. It is not like Walter didn't understand where Alex was coming from, just that his heart refused to accept the words. Refused to listen to a father's plea to leave him be.
Walter kissed him, meeting resistance at first but he continued to explore those lips. He needed to taste Alex, needed to remember this for always. Walter needed to take something with him, to warm him on those lonely nights.
Resistance gave way, and soon they were tearing at each other's clothes, leaving marks on their bodies, a bite along the neck, a nipple tugged somewhat harshly, imprints of fingers along the hips, and a burn within.
Walter wanted Alex to feel this, maybe in some way to hurt him, to make him regret his choice.
As Walter slid in and out of Alex, pounding that willing body on the cold floor, swallowing the cries and moans as Alex welcomed him in further, he knew he would never forget this.
The smell and touch of this man and the impossible dreams that could not come true.
By morning he'd be gone and out of Alex's life but for now...
For now, this moment would have to last him a lifetime.
The Embrace
Daniel pedalled his bike faster, anxious to be home, wanting to calm the unease that had crept up in him.
As he turned onto his street and up his driveway, he failed to notice how quiet his usually boisterous neighbourhood was.
It was two in the afternoon and usually by now kids would have been playing outside, enjoying their summer break, but not today.
Daniel set his bike alongside the porch, climbed up the stairs, took out his key and opened the door of his house. He was surprise to find the door unlocked.
"Mom?" he called, as he dumped his backpack on the floor.
He headed toward the kitchen, absentmindedly grabbing an apple from the counter, calling out again, "Mom, I'm home."
Daniel wiped the apple along the side of his pants and took a bite.
Molly had taken the day off and it was unlike her to keep the door open. Maybe she was in the back working on the garden?
Chewing on his apple, Daniel opened the patio door.
The apple dropped to the floor as Daniel stared at the dead body of his pet elephant.
"Lumpy?" His beloved pet had been cut opened, its blood spilled, murking the water in the pool.
He caught his breath. He wasn't safe here.
Daniel could hear his father's voice, in the back of his mind, shouting for him to run but he couldn't. He still needed to find Molly.
He searched the house, trembling at the sound made as the floor creaked at each of his steps.
He found Molly upstairs, in the tub. Her throat had been slashed, blooding the shirt he had given to her, when she had married his father.
Daniel swallowed back his cry and tried to keep himself upright. He had to get out of the house and find his father.
But.
God.
Molly.
He folded his arms and sobbed aloud, "Mom." His chest heaving in rhythm with his cries and he ended up on the floor, his legs tucked up close to his chest, his face buried in his arms as he periodically wiped away tears.
His grief so overwhelmed him that he could hear the footsteps as they climb over the stairs.
"Daniel?"
At the sound of his father's voice, Daniel got up, almost tripping in his attempt to get to his father. "Dad!"
He opened the bathroom door, ran down the small hallway and threw himself at his father's open safe arms.
"Molly, she and Lumpy," he couldn't say the words. He wanted things to get back to normal
His father was not hugging him back.
"We must leave, come." There was a certain coldness in his father's voice, a lack of emotion on his face that troubled Daniel.
Shouldn't his father be upset? Someone had killed Molly, his wife and they had butchered Lumpy, Daniel's pet. It didn't make any sense for his father not to be angry.
But his father just grabbed his arm and pulled him out the door, down the front stairs and to a waiting car.
The usually busy neighbourhood was abnormally quiet. No other cars but theirs littered the driveways, no movement of people, children or pets.
His father had always told him to look for the abnormality of things. To be constantly on guard.
This feeling, this unease that had haunted him earlier, returned in full force.
One of the first lessons his father had taught him was to trust his instincts. To trust them above all else and those instincts were telling him to run.
"Dad?"
His father ignored him, dragging a now reluctant Daniel to the car.
"What are you doing home early?"
His father pulled none too patiently. "I'm here. That is all that matters."
Daniel pulled away from his father.
"We have to call the police. Tell them what happen to mom and Lumpy..."
Daniel stopped talking as he noticed a strange black swirl around the pupil of his father's usually green eyes. They disappeared so quickly that for a moment he thought he was imaging things.
This man was not his father.
"Help! Help!" Daniel screamed at the top of his lungs, scrambling away and running next door.
Realizing he had been discovered, the doppelganger's face changed again, taking a more sinister look, hair no longer black but brown, cut short, jaw more pronounce, slim body becoming heavier, like that of a body builder, while Daniel kept on knocking on his neighbour's door.
But no one answered, as the thing reached for him, squeezing Daniel's neck, lifting him off the ground.
He struggled, nails biting onto the other man's hand, legs flapping, unable to breathe and Daniel's mind screamed.
Unknowingly, Daniel had unleashed something within him, that shone brightly as the flash encompassed them both, and Daniel found himself no longer standing on his neighbour's porch, fighting for his life, but a few blocks away in the forest next to Trout's old abandoned car.
What did he do?
How did he get here?
And where was his father?
Scared and not knowing what was going on, Daniel sought the safety of Trout's hideaway.
He could stay here.
His father would come for him.
But what if the creature that had killed Molly had also gotten to his father?
He wasn't safe here but where else could he go?
Scared, he tore through the place, looking for a second backpack, putting junk food inside the bag, looking for lose change, anything that would help him get away.
Minutes later, tired and much calmer, he sat on the sofa and tried to come up with a plan.
Years ago, when Trout's uncle had come to visit, Daniel's father had given him a small brown envelope that was to be opened only in the case of an emergency, and Daniel had hid it here.
But where?
It wasn't with the books, or his dirty clothes, or the bed. It wasn't anywhere near the computer...it was...he had once used it as a bookmark, played with it, wondering what it contained.
Then he had used it to keep their table from wiggling as he and his friends played 'Go Fish.'
He walked to the table and there it was, still on the floor, a washed-out, small brown envelope.
He tore the side and opened it up. Out popped a new bank card and an address.
Walter Skinner. Washington, DC.
In the Greyhound bus station, Daniel made his way to the bank machine, inserted the card, and pressed down his code, the year of his birth, nineteen eighty-nine.
He now had four hundred dollars, enough for a one way bus ticket to Washington, D.C.
Confident that he had done everything right, he walked to the teller, ready to buy his bus ticket when he noticed the guards questioning people, showing them a photo.
From this far away he couldn't see what was in the photo but he didn't doubt it had his face on it.
Panicking, Daniel quickly entered the men's washroom.
He needed to hide. If they saw him...
He walked to the faucet, turned on the taps and splashed cold water to his face. When he looked up, he shouted out in surprise.
He no longer looked like a typical fourteen-year-old.
His face had changed and matured, his blue eyes had turned brown, and his once short red hair was now jet black, coming down to his shoulders.
His nose was longer, his cheeks rounder, and even his clothes looked different.
Just in case, he looked down at his body. He was still a boy.
His father had always cautioned him to think clearly before he wished, before he let his emotions run wild, and now Daniel finally understood the reason.
He was...a wizard.
Through magic, he had somehow transformed himself into...no, that didn't make any sense. He had a greater chance of being an alien than a Harry Potter wanna-be.
Holding tightly onto his backpack and pushing all questions aside like 'how much of a freak can I be?', Daniel calmly walked over to the teller and bought himself an adult ticket.
In this disguise, nobody would ever be able to find him.
Runaway
He stared out the window, watching as the cars passed them by, ignoring the conversations going on around him.
Molly was dead.
And his father...
He wanted to go home.
None of this made any sense. None of it would ever make sense.
"Are you all right, dearie?" the elderly woman sitting beside him asked.
He had changed buses in Chicago, and that was not the only thing that was different. He was a blond now, a skinny-looking kid with glasses. He resembled more an eleven-year-old waif than his normal fourteen-year-old self.
"Just missing my dad," he informed her. She was a kind woman, who had shared her lunch with him once he had revealed that he had left his behind at their last bus stop.
"I'm sure he misses you as well."
He smiled at her and then went back to staring at the cars, at the ever-changing countryside, wishing it were true.
As Daniel stepped into New York's Central Station, he nervously looked around. It was crowded with people who all seemed to be going to different designations. He was taking the train to Washington, D.C., having changed his pattern of transportation multiple times throughout this trip. He had taken buses and trains, each time physically transforming himself from boy to man and back again.
He had kept a low profile throughout the voyage, applying everything his father had taught him.
He opened his backpack and took out the train schedule. He had two hours to kill in a city that never slept.
Daniel wanted to see what New York was like, to stand in Times Square, but he could not afford to miss the next train. He walked over to the newspaper stand, glancing at the headlines.
'The UN are again sending inspectors in war-torn Iraq...'
And on it went until something caught his eye. He had been trying to keep track of any news from back home, and there it was. A burst gas line was blame for the destruction of three blocks of residential homes. Or so it read.
He bit his lip.
He was too close, only one more stop before he reached the safety of Skinner's home. He couldn't jeopardize everything he had been through just to call Trout.
He couldn't.
Hadn't his father always taught him that sentimentality could get one killed? He owed it to them, to Molly and his dad, to survive this.
He had no choice but to continue.
The Day the Earth Stood Still
CNN: This has been the worst incident in San Diego's history. A gas line exploded in a residential area in the city. Three blocks were affected and many of the homes in the area were destroyed. Among the dead, reporter Stephen Harris. Many of you many remember Steven from his daily column...
Walter sat abruptly down on the sofa.
Krycek was dead?
It had been years since he had last seen him. Years since he had visited his sister and her son, Gilbert.
Walter picked up the phone and dialled his sister's number. The voice mail answered and Katherine's voice rang out.
"You've reached the Goldberg residence. Please leave your name and phone number after the tone."
"Katherine, it's Walter. Please call me. Let me know you're okay."
Walter then made two more phone calls, to a friend who still worked in the FBI and to the Lone Gunmen. If anyone could find out what was happening, it'd be them.
On the fourth day spent calling old contacts and finding nothing that would help him locate Krycek or his son, Daniel, Walter settled down to read in his home office.
His desk was filled with newspaper clippings, reports on missing children who resembled Daniel, and old notes he had accumulated over the years about the Consortium. Anything he thought might prove helpful in this investigation.
So far, what they had been able to discover was that, just prior to the gas leak, the FBI had put out a missing person account.
Bus terminals, airports, all points of departure from the city were checked in case a child fitting Daniel's description was seen.
If that wasn't suspicious enough, of all the buildings destroyed, Krycek's home was the only one that had burned to the ground. One body had been found inside.
Walter sipped his coffee, picking up another news clipping, hoping that by reading everything he had on the incident he might find something new.
An hour into his reading, there was a knock on the door.
Since he hadn't been expecting anyone, and always cautious from his years as the A.D, Walter opened his desk drawer and took out his gun, switched the safety clip off, and walked toward the door.
Glancing through the peep hole, he discovered a young man standing outside in the hallway. Early twenties. Short black hair with bangs coming down to cover one eye, wearing a baseball cap, GAP t-shirt and jeans.
He looked slightly nervous standing there.
There was something about this scene that reminded Walter of another time, of another young man, and Walter found himself opening the door, keeping his left hand holding the gun hidden from view.
"Yes, can I help you?"
"Mister Skinner?" The voice didn't seem to fit the body, he thought, as the young man fixed the greenest eyes Walter had ever seen on him. Those orbs could rival even Krycek's.
"Yes?"
Before Walter's very gaze the green eyes turned blue, tearing up slightly as the young man said in a child's voice, "I'm Daniel Harris. I'm Trout's friend."
This could be a trick, but that fear wasn't enough to deter him from allowing the young man to step inside.
Each step into Walter's condo marked a new change in the young man's appearance, until Walter found a boy standing before him.
"Daniel?"
Upon hearing his name, Daniel bit back a sob as he dropped his backpack and threw himself into Walter's arms, his hands holding onto the front of Walter's shirt, twisting it as tears fell down his face.
Through the muffle words of the crying fourteen-year-old, Walter was able to catch a few phrases, relating to Molly and Lumpy, both of whom had been murdered.
As for his father... Something had scared Daniel.
Scared him enough to send him running across the country to Walter.
"Shh...It's all right," Walter told him as he gently rubbed Daniel's back. "Let it out. I got you," he said as Daniel continued to sob, the horror of the past few days finally catching up with him.
After some time, Daniel quieted down. His sighs seemed measured as he stepped away from Walter, letting go of the shirt, now wet from Daniel's tears.
"I...My father always told me that if something were to happen to him, to come here," Daniel explained.
The boy had grown. His ginger hair had specks of gold, the freckles that were once quite noticeable were no longer as pronounced. He had his father's pert nose, his mother's milk-like skin.
The child he'd once met, whose eyes seem to sparkle with mischief, was gone. The blue eyes staring at him belonged to a more mature person. The bitterness and sadness lining Daniel's face was also something Walter had not expected to see.
"Your father gave you my address?" Walter asked, receiving a silent nod in return. "Do you know where he is?" Daniel shook his head, now keeping his eyes downcast, shoulders hunched, and Walter took pity on the kid.
He could ask questions later; right now the child needed to eat, to rest, to feel safe once again.
"Come on, I was about to prepare myself some lunch. How does a turkey sandwich sound?"
He received a shrug in return, and Walter gently herded Daniel to the kitchen.
They had time, before the outside descended upon them. Later, he would make phone calls, find out what had truly happened and answers to the question, 'Where was Krycek?'
lex looked down at his son, asleep on the carpet, toys gathered around him.
