by HollyIlex
This was addictive.
I lay very still and concentrated on keeping my breathing even. When Walter
woke up, the day would start—probably very pleasurably—and I wanted to
savour this moment for a little longer.
I wanted to enjoy the feeling of Walter spooned behind me, his arm flung
across my hip. I liked hearing the sound of his breathing—little 'whuffs'
as he exhaled. I could feel the weight of my new arm, still clumsy and
uncoordinated and more trouble than the prosthesis and yet...
I thought back to the days which had changed my life and my body... to a
conversation which showed how far apart Walter and I could be in our thought
processes.
Walter had bought a packet of Hershey Kisses to Mike's clinic, as rewards
for me while I lay immobile for three days as my arm regenerated.
I think it was sometime during Day Two that he asked me if I minded.
"Mind? What do you mean?"
I was genuinely puzzled.
"Well, I know you like Kisses."
He grinned at my leer.
"Chocolate Kisses," he said, smiling broadly. "And... I don't want to
spoil them for you."
My perplexity increased and this must've shown on my face.
Walter sighed and tried to explain.
"You're having a rough time here. I know, we're all doing what we can but
Alex, being restrained goes against all your instincts for survival. You
can't sleep, only nap because your dreams interfere with the hypnosis. You
must be climbing the walls with boredom."
"Can't climb walls," I muttered. "I'm tied down."
He was right, being restrained was hard for me. Mike had explained that I
needed to keep the new arm as immobile as possible so that the regeneration
process proceeded smoothly. As the regeneration was starting from so high
up, near my shoulder, it was simplest to restrain all of me. Then there
would be no accidental flexing of the new arm as I tried to move some other
part of me.
So I knew there were good reasons for the restraints, but that didn't make
it much easier to bear.
He grinned and stroked my hair.
"You know what I mean," he said, affection lacing his voice.
"Yes," I said, "I do. But, Walter, you're only looking at half the picture."
Now it was his turn to look puzzled.
"I'm getting my arm back, Walter. And..."
I hesitated, unused to sharing my innermost thoughts and feelings.
"And?"
He stroked my hand.
I decided his need to hear this outweighed my instinctual need to keep
things to myself.
"This will be happy memory, Walter. For the rest of my life. The care I've
had here... me, Alex Krycek, after all I've done and had done to me, I am
now here ... I can't remember ever being looked after like this."
"Mike is very good, isn't he?"
There was a pride in Walter's voice as he spoke of his friend that I wished
Mike could hear. I resolved to tell him about it sometime.
"Yes," I said, "He is. So is Paul. And Anne and Janey. And after all this is
over, I'd be happy—no, honoured—to call any or all of them my friends."
Walter smiled at me.
"I'm glad," he said. "I think they'll be frequent visitors to Mike's cabin."
"And you," I said.
"Me?"
"You've made all the difference, Walter."
He gripped my hand and fed me a Kiss. It's one way to shut me up.
I smiled again at the memory of his embarrassment as I lay in our bed, the
solid warmth of Walter against my back.
Walter. None of his agents would ever believe me if I tried to tell them how
romantic he can be, how kind, how caring and how thoughtful.
I remembered Walter's surprise for me when we arrived here, at Mike's cabin,
four days ago.
He'd produced a locked box about ten inches long and six inches wide and
four inches deep.
With a flourish, he'd unlocked it to reveal—packet upon packet of Kisses.
I laughed with delight but Mike didn't—he looked at me seriously.
"Alex," he said. "They are rewards for you. You will earn every one and
every empty bag will demonstrate your progress. We'll pin them up on this
board. But make no mistake about it, it will be hard."
I nodded.
After Consortium training for my assignment, I thought, nothing could bother
me.
Four days later, waking in Walter's arms, I admitted to myself how wrong I'd
been about that.
Very wrong.
We'd been here for four days.
Four days in Mike's cabin under a strict exercise and rest regimen that was
threatening to drive me wild with frustration.
Even Kisses... Mike decreed that I had to unwrap my own Kisses using my
own two hands. So I picked up the Kiss with my right hand, transferred it to
the clumsy grip of the left hand and pulled the tag to remove the shiny
wrapping with my right hand.
Mike had told me that soon I would be doing that with the left hand, using
my right hand to hold the Kiss. I had my doubts that I could ever have
unwrapped a Kiss left-handed but I kept those thoughts to myself.
The only thing that made it bearable was that Mike had not put any
restrictions on our love-making.
I shifted slightly and heard Walter's breathing change as he slowly woke.
I grinned to myself and turned in his arms, carefully moving the new arm so
that it didn't slap him as I rolled onto my back.
His eyes opened and lit with pleasure as he saw me watching him.
"Morning," he said, sleepily.
"Morning, handsome," I replied.
"Been awake long?"
"No, not long."
"No pain?"
"No pain."
Walter smiled at me then.
"Oh, good," he said before leaning over and kissing me. Thoroughly.
I moaned as I felt the warm softness of his tongue stroke my lips before
pressing into me, invading my mouth.
He shifted so that more of our naked skin was touching, his skin against
mine, yet he was always careful of the new arm.
Idly, I wondered how long it would be before I stopped thinking of it as
"the arm" and it became "my arm."
As I struggled to get it to move in the direction I wanted it to go, I
decided that it would be my arm when it did as I told it to instead of
behaving as if it had a mind of its own.
Walter kissed a trail along my jaw, content to pull back slightly while I
wrestled with the arm.
Finally I got it into position across his back, my hand splayed on his firm,
smooth skin. Then Walter shifted so that more of his weight was resting on
me, knowing I loved that feeling of being his. His to possess. His to love.
More incendiary kisses followed. The arm moved slightly, allowing me to
stroke Walter's back, enjoying the feel of his skin under the new
fingertips.
I parted my legs and lifted them as I felt Walter shift again, then I felt
him guiding his cock to the entrance to my body.
We were fucking so often these days, I needed no preparation.
His hand snaked between our bodies to guide him into me. He entered me in
one smooth stroke, filling me, taking me as his.
I gasped as I felt him glide into me. The pleasure was intense and it was no
less intense this time than any of the previous times we had done this.
He started moving within me, a slow withdrawal and a hard, sharp 'thrust' to
fill me again, then that languidly leisured withdrawal before another hard
'thrust' with his hips...
We took our time.
I was screaming by the time I came, Walter shouting my name with every
thrust.
Walter cleaned us up before sliding back into bed to gather me into his
arms.
We had started using this time to review the previous day's progress with
the arm and plan the activities for the coming day.
Sated, warm, secure, cared for—held in Walter's arms, I was rapidly
learning that I would agree to anything at this time of the day...
"I think your arm is getting more strength in it," Walter said. "And more
movement. There was definitely more pressure when you held me."
"I'm sure hugging you is better physio than the dreadful exercises Mike
wants me to do," I groused, grinning.
"Do both," a new voice said.
We jumped.
"Mike?" Walter said. "What are you doing here?"
"Checking on Alex. I... umm... made coffee while I waited. But I
thought I ought to let you know I'm here now that you've finished screaming
and moaning."
I blushed. I know it's silly but I cannot get used to people knowing when
I've been making love.
"Thanks, Mike," Walter said, grinning. "We'll be out soon."
"Take your time, I can review Alex's records from yesterday while I wait."
Part Two
Mike waited until after we'd shared breakfast to tell us the real reason for
his visit.
Oh, he needed to check my arm regularly but Paul could do that and it
certainly didn't need an early morning visit.
Unannounced.
So I waited patiently to find out what was on Mike's mind and when he seemed
to be having difficult in broaching the subject, I decided I knew what it
was about.
Money.
He'd come with a bill for me.
I decided to help him out.
"So," I said, lounging in my favourite place, next to Walter. "To what do we
really owe this early morning visit. Come with the bill?"
Mike looked blank.
"Bill?"
"Yeah," I said "You know, the piece of paper you give me which says "For one
new arm" and a telephone number preceded by a dollar sign. I respond to this
piece of paper by giving you another piece of paper which repeats the
telephone number, in both words and figures. Then we smile a lot and say
thank-you a lot. It's an arcane ritual which has served humankind for
centuries, in one form or another."
"There's no charge, Alex," Mike said.
I narrowed my eyes.
"Alex, I have broken every rule in the book to do that procedure. I cannot
explain a payment for it. Even if I wanted to charge you, and as you were
very much an experimental guinea pig I would feel uncomfortable doing so,
but suppose I decided I did want to charge you, I can't put such a payment
through my books."
"Charitable donation?" I asked.
Mike laughed.
"Do I look like I need charitable donations to further my work?"
I had to admit the cabin was not quite what I had imagined.
For a start, it was brick with log cladding and hi-tech insulation between
the brick and the logs, making the building very heat-efficient and cosy.
It was also much larger than I had expected. Two stories, with a big
basement as well. Four en-suite bedrooms. A separate annex with six more
bedrooms. A whole single-storey wing devoted to physio—exercise machines,
a small, heated pool and a work-out area where I practiced Tai-Chi. Mike
considered that both safe for me to do and excellent therapy.
I was teaching Walter.
In the main building there was a large kitchen with every gadget you can
think of and some you probably never knew existed, a large oak panelled
dining room and a sumptuous sitting room lined with bookshelves, with soft
couches and a big fireplace. The basement housed the huge TV and a large
collection of videos and DVDs. Both the sitting room and the basement also
had top of the line audio equipment. Pop and country CDs were downstairs,
classical CDs were upstairs. A wind-up gramophone and collection of 78s also
occupied a corner of the sitting room. A glassed-in porch ran the length of
the building at the back, with a view over the lake.
It was nothing like any cabin I'd ever visited before.
And Mike was right, it indicated—as if I couldn't have guessed from other
clues, like the private jet—that Mike was wealthy.
"Tell me, then," I asked. "How do you make all this money from trauma
surgery?"
Mike grinned.
"I don't," he said. "I make it from prostheses."
"But..."
"I know," he said. "The procedure, if we can perfect it, will put me out of
business. But I can diversify. I'm already looking at options, I owe it to
my workforce. I'd be betraying my oath as a doctor if I blocked this
research for selfish reasons."
I nodded.
"I understand," I said. "But just so that you know, I am not a poor man. If
you need anything, ask."
He nodded.
Walter broke the silence.
"If you're not here demanding money," he said, "Why are you here?"
Mike sighed.
"After Dr Scully pulled that stunt with you," he said, looking at me, "I had
a talk with her. Well, to be exact, I talked and she listened. She will be
coming to see you today. I didn't want her visit to be a surprise."
"What for?" I asked.
"To apologise," Mike said, and then he laughed when he saw my face.
I must have looked as shocked as I felt.
"I... I'm glad you warned me," I said.
"Try and hear her out, that's all I ask," Mike said. "And now, let's check
that arm."
I went through the limited movements I had mastered, gritting my teeth as
the new muscles protested, pushing through the discomfort.
Mike was pleased with my progress.
"I think you can start going out now. Short walks, say fifteen to twenty
minutes, and no more than an hour in total in any one day. Your body needs
to recover from the trauma."
I grinned.
"It'll be nice to get out," I said.
I'd felt too tired to care either way for the first couple of days we'd been
at the cabin. The exercises, short and simple though they were, left me
exhausted, and I tended to nap a lot.
I was, however, according to Mike, young, strong and physically fit, so I
recovered fairly quickly from the worst of the weakness and tiredness.
I was ready for more.
Mike said his goodbyes not long after that and Walter and I were alone
again.
Walter took one look at me and grinned.
"You look ready to drop," he said bluntly. "Come on, time for a nap."
Walter had discovered that I don't like going back to bed during the day.
He'd also discovered I'm a sucker for having my hair stroked. So to get me
to sleep enough, he'd encouraged me to stretch out on the sofa with my head
in his lap. He'd get a good book and read, one hand petting my hair until I
fell asleep.
He said he enjoyed having an excuse to sit and read a book.
I believed him.
So when he said it was time for a nap, I didn't argue, just lay down on the
sofa and rested my head on a pillow on Walter's thighs and closed my eyes. I
knew I wasn't tired of course, but if Walter wanted to read I was happy to
have my hair stroked for half an hour... yeah, I know, I'm a real
hedonist...
Scully's arrival woke me almost an hour later. I stumbled sleepily into the
bedroom to wake up in private while Walter greeted her at the door. As I
splashed water on my face I could hear Walter's voice rumbling, probably
offering her coffee.
Awake as I would ever be, I returned to the sitting room and nodded to
Scully, who was sitting in one of the armchairs uncomfortably.
"Doctor Scully," I said, formally.
"Krycek," she responded with all the warmth of an Ice Age.
Walter brought the coffee and a dish of Kisses.
Scully's eyes brightened and she accepted a Kiss with her coffee.
It was the only sort of kiss she'd get from me.
"I came to apologise," she said. "I was out of line when I tried to get a
sample from you without your permission."
"Apology accepted," I said, and rewarded myself for my even tone with a
Kiss.
Scully looked surprised that it was going to be that simple.
Walter changed the subject slightly.
"How is the research proceeding?" he asked.
I got lost in the explanations but the bottom line was that they were
getting a license for animal experimentation soon and hoped to treat their
first human patient in about 12 months time.
"So long?" I asked.
She took it as a criticism and lectured me on the difficulties of proving a
procedure is safe, especially when you can't admit to already using it on a
human being."
"A lab rat," I murmured and was rewarded by a very slight smile.
"Without the lab rat," she conceded, "We'd be looking at two, maybe three or
more, years."
That made me feel better. I'd got the arm and at least halved the time for
the roll-out of this procedure to the rest of humanity.
Walter squeezed my hand. He knew I saw this as atonement. He didn't approve
but he tried to understand.
Scully finished her coffee, snagged another Kiss and got up to leave.
"You're looking well," she said.
"I have the best of care," I replied, glancing at Walter.
He grinned.
"That reminds me," she said, turning to Walter. "Mulder wants to know
whether you're returning to D.C. in the next few weeks."
"No," he said. "I like it here."
She suppressed a sigh so obviously that I was irritated. Why not just sigh
out loud and be done with it!
"In that case," she said. "Mulder would like to know whether he can visit
you here."
"Of course," Skinner said, smiling. "We won't be going anywhere."
The faint stress on 'we' was not missed by any of us. I saw her lips press
together as if holding in angry words, then relax.
"I'll be sure to tell him that," she said.
And then she was gone.
Part Three
The days passed very pleasantly.
We made love a lot. Sometimes slowly, sometimes hard and fast.
Sometimes Walter would want me so badly he'd push me up against the wall or
bend me over a chair, yank down my trousers and underwear and press himself
into me.
I loved that. I would feel his hardness pushing into me, forcing a gentle
way into my body. I was always ready for him. Lubed. Relaxed.
He would enter me in one long slow stroke, making sure he didn't hurt me
even as we were both panting from desire.
Then he would take me. Pound into me. Thrust after thrust, hard and fast.
Primal.
I would come hard, usually screaming from the passion and the possession. He
would come inside me, thrusting into me, spurting, grunting, sometimes
yelling my name... and I loved it.
Other times, usually in the evening, we'd be relaxed, cuddling on the couch.
We'd kiss, just little affectionate pecks. We'd touch and stroke and
eventually I'd find myself on my side, Walter entering me gently from
behind, his arms wrapped around me. Then I'd feel his cock pushing into me
so slowly, so gently... sometimes, his tenderness would bring tears to my
eyes. He would kiss my neck as he gently entered me, then we'd lay like
that, connected, while he stroked me, kissed me, made me feel loved and
cherished.
He would start moving inside me slowly while I would contract my muscles
around his cock. We'd come with a whisper of love, a sigh of completion, our
names breathed into the quiet of the cabin like prayers of thankfulness.
It wasn't all sex and fun though.
I worked on my exercises.
They were hard, even with Kisses as a reward. We had some spectacular
disagreements. Walter would pull out his Marine persona and I would do as I
was told for a while before I rebelled and then I would erupt into a furious
display of temper.
I was packing my bag after one such mammoth display of temper on my part
when he joined me in the bedroom.
"Giving up, Krycek?" he drawled. "I never had you pegged as a quitter."
"Fuck you, Skinner," I yelled.
"Go on then," he replied, calmly.
I froze.
"What did you say?" I asked.
"I said, 'Go on then.' Fuck me."
I turned to face him.
He grinned.
I had to grin back, I couldn't help myself. My anger disappeared, evaporated
by the sudden heat of my passion. I would take him. I would possess him, as
he possessed me.
"Come here," I whispered.
He walked up to me, stood so close that we were touching, looked into my
eyes.
"Fuck me," he said.
For one moment I thought I would come on my pants ... a near orgasm
induced by chocolate eyes and two words... he grinned, a wicked, wolfish
grin that had me going weak at the knees.
I felt his hand on my swollen cock, his palm rubbing me hard through the
layers of cloth...
"I want this inside me," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "I want to
feel you stretching me, making my body open up to your cock, to feel you
pounding into me, I want to feel your balls slapping against me, your sweat
dripping onto my back..."
With a strangled cry, I came.
He held me up, supported me over to the bed, lay me down and stripped me.
"Hey," I said. "What happened to 'You're recuperating, you must take it
easy'?"
"Anyone who can put on a display of temper like you just have can cope with
fucking my brains out," he said, grinning again.
I liked this new Walter. I hoped I'd see a lot more of him.
Which reminded me.
"You are wearing way to many clothes," I said.
He bent over the bed and put his lips next to my ear. I could feel his
breath.
"So strip me," he whispered.
We'd already discovered things like buttons, belts and zips were good
exercise for my new fingers.
But he wasn't wearing any, just old sweats and a loose t-shirt.
I assessed the t-shirt. Old, well worn. I slid off the bed, noticing the way
his eyes darkened as I moved. I can be very sensual when I like—forget Rat
and think Cat...
I gripped the hem of that old t-shirt and ripped it. The grand gesture was
ruined when the rip stopped at the neck. I found my knife—under my pillow,
Walter didn't approve but I knew I'd need it one day, I just didn't realise
what I'd need it for—and used it to slice the fabric at the neck.
Walter kept very still as my knife cut through the fabric so close to his
neck but his cock was tenting his sweats. He liked this.
I pushed the remains of his t-shirt off his shoulders and tugged the fabric
over his arms and dropped what was now rags onto the floor.
"Are you going to take them off?" I asked, my eyes on his sweat pants.
I saw the struggle in his eyes. He loved the primal act of having his
clothes ripped and cut off but then again, they were his favourite sweats.
He took them off.
I put the knife away, making a mental note to get some clothes for Walter
for 'play' purposes, and looked at my lover.
He was very turned on. His cock was huge and dripping. I wanted to taste it
but decided to save that pleasure for another time.
I pushed him towards the bed.
"Lay down," I commanded.
I felt him resist my hands as I pushed.
"Do you want this," I demanded, looking him in the eye.
He dropped his eyes in pretended confusion.
"Yes," he whispered.
So, he was playing virgin... or was he?
Gently, I tipped his face up to look at me.
"Have you had a man's cock up your arse before?" I asked.
He flushed. So, he wasn't playing.
"Not... not often."
"How often?"
He shrugged.
"I didn't keep a count," he said. "One man, about thirty years ago."
"You didn't like it." I said.
"No," he agreed. "It hurt."
"I won't hurt you," I reassured my lover.
"I know," he said, and his eyes met mine again.
The absolute certainty in them staggered me. He trusted me completely. I
grinned.
"I'll blow your mind," I said.
"Yeah?" he asked, grinning back.
"Oh, yeah," I breathed. "No doubt about it. Now, get yourself onto the bed
on your back."
This time he obeyed me.
I took a moment to enjoy the sight of Walter Skinner laid out before me,
cock erect, waiting for my attention.
I can never get enough of the sight of this man. Naked or clothed, awake or
asleep, resting or working, cooking, cleaning, barking orders at me in the
gym, swimming, working out... whatever and wherever, it doesn't matter to
me, he's the most wonderful sight to see. So I look—a lot.
Then I pounced.
Walter said afterwards that while I was standing there looking at him, for a
brief moment, he felt like the mouse to my cat. But after I pounced—his
word, not mine—he knew no cat ever played with his mouse as lovingly as I
played with him.
It was just as well I'd come in my pants. It took the edge off, meant I
could devote time and effort to driving Walter wild.
And I did.
Oh yeah, I did.
I stroked his soft skin. I stroked him gently, I stroked him firmly, I
concentrated on those places that made him feel more than just relaxed.
I found erogenous spots he hadn't known he had.
I licked him.
I nibbled him.
And only when he was gasping and panting did I tongue his nipples.
I took his scream as a tribute to my skill and sucked and licked those two
sensitive nubs until Walter's head was shiny with sweat and his hands were
grasping the sheet fit to rip it.
Only then did I part his long legs and gently push them up, giving me access
to his most secret places.
My finger sent him wild as it stroked gently over the sensitive skin behind
his balls.
He babbled.
I looked at him lovingly as I made him babble and wondered how many of his
agents would ever have guessed their strict AD could let go like this, could
become this babbling, sweaty, human being with passion-glazed eyes...
Gently I moved his hands so that they held his buttocks apart for me, never
stopping the gentle stroking as I did so.
Then I bent my head and swiped my tongue over his tight hole.
He shrieked a long banshee wail and then started begging.
I grinned to myself. No bad memories coming back to him yet, then. I was
sure he had bad memories.
Then I started rimming him in earnest, licking the tight hole, gently
pushing my tongue just inside and out again.
He stopped babbling and made a series of exquisite noises, half whimper,
half moan.
By the time my well-slicked finger breached the tight muscle to slide inside
him, he was ready for me. I took my time, making sure he enjoyed the feeling
of being penetrated, making sure even this operation to stretch him for me
was pleasurable.
Besides, I was almost coming again from the sight of my finger sliding in
and out of Walter's body.
His whimper when I added a second finger was from the feeling of fullness,
not pain but not pleasure.
I petted him with my left hand, still a little clumsy but adequate for the
job.
Then I bent and tongued his balls as my two fingers scissored and stretched
him.
His cock looked as though it might split it's skin by the time I eased my
own erection into his body. I turned him on his side for this part, anxious
to make it good for him.
Walter sighed as he felt the head of my cock push through the guardian
muscle into his body.
I knew what he meant. That sigh said "At last" and "Oh yes" and "I'm
complete."
I felt it too.
Slowly I pressed forward, taking his cock in my right hand and stroking it
gently.
"Alex," he gasped, "Please, I can't...too soon."
I stopped stroking and just held his cock as I pushed my way into his tight
hot channel.
I paused to savour the feeling of being buried to the hilt in my lover's
arse before starting to move.
Gently.
In and out.
I felt Walter's body move to meet my gentle thrusts. I felt him pushing his
cock into my hand and then pressing back onto my cock. Fucking himself with
my cock and hand. Pleasuring himself.
I stilled.
"Go for it, Walter," I whispered.
He didn't pretend to not understand, just increased his rocking movements.
His channel was sliding up and down my cock. His rhythm. My cock. My hand.
He arched and warm fluid spurted over my hand, I heard him calling my name
and felt his arse tighten around my cock.
The pleasure slammed through me suddenly and I was coming, calling his name
as I thrust into him.
It was intense.
Walter must have cleaned us up as I was too blissed out to be bothered about
such things.
Part Four
So the days passed...
It was not all love-making of course.
We had visitors.
Janey and Anne stopped by a few times for coffee, sometimes together,
sometimes separately.
Paul came by to check on the arm and to play chess with me. I had to use my
left hand of course... but I still beat him.
Mike made regular visits to check on both of us, sometimes staying for
dinner and conversation.
I was having a bad day when he came to see us, bringing wine and steaks.
I'd hurt the arm.
Walter had put me through my paces as usual, and I was okay after that.
Tired, sweaty and aching but otherwise fine.
He'd joined me in the shower and I'd braced myself against the cool tiles as
he pushed his cock into me. I'd braced myself, taking most of my weight on
my right arm, while he pounded into me, his hand stroking my cock as his
cock thrust into me... it was intense and wonderful and I loved it.
I slept until the smell of bacon frying woke me for lunch.
After lunch, we'd gone for a walk and I'd slipped. I automatically put out
the arm to break my fall and felt a pain shoot through it.
I didn't tell Walter. I was enjoying the fresh air, the autumn sunshine and
the surroundings. I didn't want to be rushed back to the cabin and coddled.
By the time we got back, the arm was aching.
By the time Mike arrived, I was in some pain.
It was obvious I was going to have to own up.
"How are you, Alex?" Mike asked, as he always did once the greetings were
over.
"Umm, well, not good," I admitted.
"What?" Walter demanded. "It was that fall, wasn't it? I knew there was
something you weren't telling me."
He looked ready to rant but Mike cut off his tirade with an upraised hand.
I wished I could do that.
"Let Alex speak, Walter, or I'll ask you to leave the room. You weren't
always the perfect patient either."
Walter muttered about getting some beers and stomped off to the kitchen.
"Now, Alex," Mike said calmly. "Let's have a look at your arm while you tell
me what happened."
"There's not much to tell," I said, and I explained about the fall.
Mike felt my arm, flexing it and moving it, apologising quietly when I
winced as one movement or another sent pain shooting through the arm.
Walter came back into the room with three beers while Mike was working.
He sat down quietly and swigged from one of the bottles.
"Okay," Mike said when he'd finished. "It's not too bad, Alex, although it
would have been better if you'd said something sooner."
"What I have done?" I asked.
"It's a sort of sprain. The new muscles aren't used to that sort of impact,
nothing more. I can give you some exercises so that it will be less likely
to happen again but you can't do them until you've rested the arm and the
pain has gone."
I sighed.
Mike laughed.
"I know," he said. "It's hard to have a setback, even a small one. I'll
strap the arm up so that it will be rested. You'll need to keep it strapped
for about a week, I think."
Walter grinned.
"Looks like I'll have to cut your steak up for you," he said.
I was too relieved that he'd taken this setback so well to scowl at him.
After dinner, I was laying on the couch, my head in Walter's lap. The arm
was uncomfortable but not so bad that I needed painkillers.
The conversation had slowed and I decided this was a good time to pose a
question. I'd been wanting to find out the answer to this question ever
since Mike walked into my life.
"How did you two meet?" I asked.
There was a silence, then Mike spoke.
"You'll have to tell this one," he said. "Doctor/patient confidentiality
means I can't."
"So you were Mike's patient?" I asked. "When?"
"After I came back from 'Nam."
----
Walter scowled at the young man who had just introduced himself.
"Doctor Goode? I'm tired and I just want to sleep."
"I'm sorry but sleep is not an option for you right now."
"What?"
"I'm here to take you for a walk outside," Mike Goode said firmly.
"I don't want to go."
"Okay. We'll talk here."
"Doctor, I don't want to talk either."
"I'm a medical student, not a fully qualified doctor yet. And trust me,
you'd be better talking to me than any of the alternatives that are being
considered for you."
"Trust me, I'm not a doctor," Walter said, "That's a new line."
Mike grinned.
"Come on," he said, "Let's go outside. It's a lovely day."
Walter could never explain why he gave in and allowed himself to be helped,
slowly and painfully, outside. He hated being so slow. He hated the pain. He
hated everything and everyone.
He was tired. Tired of pain, tired of the company of other people, tired of
hospital food, tired of... tired of life.
And yet Mike Goode had grinned at him and he had capitulated.
He had allowed himself to be taken outside. He had allowed himself to enjoy
the warm breeze on his face, the warmth of the sun, the smell of the
flowers, the sound of bees gathering nectar... but he still hated the
pain and the slow shuffle that was all he could manage and the hospital food...
Mike had steered him to a secluded bench seat in the shade of a thick yew
hedge.
"Tell me," he said.
"Tell you what?" Walter asked.
"Tell me whatever you want to tell me. Tell me about the incident that gave
you these injuries."
Walter's eyes closed as his expression changed.
"I can't," he said.
"Why not?"
Mike's voice was gentle.
"I... I just can't."
"How many men from your unit were involved?"
"Ten."
"How many survived?"
"One."
"So you're trying to mourn them and recover from your injuries as well? No
wonder you're having a hard time."
Walter said nothing.
"Let me tell you what will happen if you don't start working with the people
here," Mike said. "They are concerned about you. You are not co-operating
with anyone. You are not speaking to anyone. You are not eating. You are
giving everyone the impression you want to die."
Mike paused but the man next to him stayed silent, his eyes still closed,
his face blank.
"Do you want to die, Walter Skinner?" he asked softly.
Walter bit his lip.
"Answer me," Mike said, his tone still quiet yet compelling.
"I don't know," Walter admitted, his control beginning to slip.
"Have your parents been to see you?'
Walter was startled at the sudden change of subject.
"No," he said.
"Why?"
"I told them to stay away."
"Why?"
"I ... I don't want to worry them. It would worry them, seeing me like
this."
"Don't you think not seeing you might be worrying them more? Don't you think
they deserve better than a selfish, self-pitying son who shuts them out when
he needs them most?"
Walter stared at his companion in amazement.
"Let me lay it on the line for you, Walter. You co-operate with me, you'll
stay here for a while longer and you'll get better. Full recovery. You carry
on the way you are and you'll never recover physically. You will be given a
full psych evaluation and probably end up in a psych ward somewhere. I doubt
you'll ever come out of there either. Your choice."
"Why you? You're only a student."
"I'm a student volunteer, here for the summer. There are several of us.
We're being given the difficult cases as we can work on a one-to-one basis,
under supervision of course. Essentially, you've got me as you're already so
bad nothing I do can make things any worse."
"Oh."
"So, as I can't do anything to help you, only you can do that, let's sit
here and enjoy this glorious weather."
----
"Walter? You were really that bad?" I asked, grinning.
"Worse," Mike said, grinning too. "You have to be on the receiving end of a
Skinner Special Scowl to really appreciate it."
"I know some agents who'd agree with you there," I said.
"I was only what, nineteen? Twenty?"
"I know," I soothed, stroking Walter's arm. "I'm just teasing. What happened
next?"
"We sat on the bench in silence for an hour and then I helped Walter back to
his bed and left him until the next day." Mike said.
"I did a lot of thinking," Walter admitted.
"You were still surly when I came to see you the next day."
----
"Hi."
Walter glared at the cheery young man who sat by his bed without waiting for
an invitation.
"Have you thought any more about what we discussed yesterday?"
Walter ignored him.
"Okay, fine."
Mike Goode stood up and walked away.
Walter was left feeling... oddly bereft.
He didn't see Mike for the rest of the day.
----
"Way to go, Walter," I said. "You were a really bad patient. No half
measures with you!"
"If I'm going to do something, I like to do it properly," Walter responded,
grinning.
He paused.
"I was so unhappy and I had no idea why..."
"So what happened next?" I asked.
"Mike came back to see me."
----
"Hi."
Mike sat by Walter's bed, smiling at him.
"Hi."
"Shall we go for a walk again?"
"If you like."
Walter knew he sounded ungracious but he didn't seem to be able to help
himself.
They made their way slowly to the same seat. It was another perfect summer's
day. Blue sky, hot sun, a warm breeze... Walter had to admit it felt good
...
Mike settled him on the bench.
"Stay there," he said. "I've got some decent food in my car. I'll fetch it.
We can have a picnic lunch."
Walter managed a smile.
"Sounds good. The food in there is terrible. I wouldn't give it to my dog."
"You have a dog?"
"Well... I guess she's my parents' dog but yeah, I think of her as mine."
"What breed is she?"
"Poodle."
Walter noticed the smirk forming on Mike's face.
"Not that sort of poodle. No stupid haircut for our Kara. She's big and
brown and intelligent and has a naughty streak a mile wide... and she
doesn't moult, so she's ideal for people with allergies, like my brother."
Mike nodded.
"Okay. Maybe I'll meet her one day. Now, stay there, remember? No trying to
move about."
Walter nodded.
"For a decent meal... I'll be good."
----
I laughed.
"Food as an incentive, why does that sound familiar? You'll be telling me
you fed him Kisses when he was a good boy!"
"No," Mike said, laughing. "Walter's never had a seriously sweet tooth.
However, I could and did tempt him with platters of exotic cheeses and
different crackers, garlic bread... prawns and scampi and shrimps and
smoked salmon... I seem to remember packing up some pretty decent picnics
that summer."
"Mmmm, I remember them too. Maybe we should have a few picnics here..."
"Just don't forget the Kisses," I said. "All that other stuff is okay but
the Kisses are essential."
Mike laughed.
"You are so easy," he said.
I grinned.
"That's what they all tell me. So, what happened next?"
"My mother brought the picnic to me. Mike was nowhere to be seen."
"Oh?"
"He set me up. He knew I needed to... talk and that I wouldn't talk to
anyone else."
"I sat out of earshot and kept everyone away from them while they talked,"
Mike said.
Walter's eyebrows rose.
"You never told me that," he said.
Mike smiled.
"You never asked how it was the two of you could sit there for three hours
and never see a soul."
"I... I guess I never thought about it." Walter said.
"So was that it?" I asked. "Walter's Mom came to visit and he behaved
himself after that?"
"Not quite," Mike said, laughing. "But he decided he wanted to get well.
That was a big step forward. We still had bad days and it was a long and
painful recovery for him ..."
"I'd never have made it without you there, every step of the way. Bringing
me picnics, encouraging me, shouting at me..."
"It was that summer that convinced me to go into trauma medicine. I mean, I
had a lot of help with Walter, behind the scenes. A lot of support. And yet
in the end it was me. Me that made the difference. It was... incredibly
fulfilling. And as I carried on with my training we kept in touch. I was so
proud when Walter graduated, I couldn't have been more proud if he had been
my son. I'm still proud of you, Walter."
"You came to my graduation."
"With a picnic," Mike said, grinning.
"Yeah, with a smoked salmon and champagne picnic that had everyone else
there green with envy."
"And garlic bread," Mike reminded him.
Walter laughed.
"Oh yeah, really strongly garlic too. You could smell it from half a mile
away at least."
I decided not to say anything about what sounded like a pretty horrible
combination to me—garlic bread and smoked salmon!
I could hear the two of them reminiscing then. About Quantico. About their
careers. Walter was stroking my hair as he chatted to Mike and I heard him
tell Mike how interesting it had been to see Mike working with me and how
proud he was of Mike.
I remember thinking I was glad he'd finally told Mike that before I fell
asleep.
Part Five
Life was good, the arm was out of the sling and I was sure I was falling in
love with Walter.
I suspected my feelings might be reciprocated but I wasn't sure. Since the
conversation with Mike, Walter had been unusually quiet. I guessed that
talking about the time after 'Nam had awakened old and painful memories and
gave him space to work things out.
I hoped it was nothing to do with me, the reason he was so quiet. I hoped he
wasn't tiring of my company.
And then... Mulder came to see Walter.
I'd stopped expecting him.
After Scully came I was edgy for days, expecting Mulder to turn up at any
time.
Slowly I relaxed. I decided he wasn't coming after all.
So when I opened the door to find Mulder on the doorstep—well, to say it
was a shock would be understating the case.
He was not happy to see me.
"Krycek," he said, putting a whole world of meaning into that one word.
"Mulder," I said. "Come in."
"I've come to see Walter," he said, stone-faced.
"I'm here, Mulder," Walter said, strolling into the sitting room,
bare-chested.
I saw Mulder's face as he eyeballed my man and my hackles rose.
Then common sense reasserted itself.
Mulder was smart, honourable, good-looking in a baby-faced sort of way...
why would Walter want me if he could have Mulder?
It was very obvious he could have Mulder.
Mulder would make Walter happy. Mulder would need Walter the way Walter
needed to be needed.
The way I needed him but couldn't tell him...
I wanted Walter to be happy.
I made a quick excuse and left the room. I made myself some sandwiches,
grabbed a new bag of Kisses and packed them and a cell phone into a
backpack. Then I put my coat on and went out for a long walk, leaving Walter
a note on the fridge.
It would've been a lovely day if Walter had been with me.
It would've been a good day if I hadn't felt like I'd been driven out, if I
wasn't thinking all day about what Walter and Mulder were doing.
It would've been a tolerable day if I hadn't spent most of it wondering
whether Walter would be there when I got back.
I walked.
I sat by the river to eat my lunch. I didn't taste it, it was like cardboard
to me but I'd had weeks of Walter's care and it was automatic to me now to
eat regular meals.
Because Walter said I should.
If I hadn't been feeling so upset, I might've laughed. Me, Alex Krycek,
eating my lunch like a good boy because Walter Skinner told me to.
I wondered if he'd tell Mulder to eat his lunch.
Probably.
Mulder.
From the first time we met I was in awe of Mulder.
He was so effortlessly superior. He stalked through the corridors of the FBI
as if he owned them. He cared nothing about what anyone else thought of him.
He could advance the most outrageous theories and it was clear from his
demeanour that he expected to be taken seriously.
Not that he was. Most of the time.
He was intimidatingly clever. Good-looking. Well-dressed.
Why would Walter want me when he could have Mulder?
I finished my lunch and packed my rubbish back in my bag, before shouldering
my backpack again and heading back to the cabin.
To face my future.
Mulder's car was gone when I returned.
I hesitated, my key in my hand, wondering whether Walter would have gone
with him or waited to say goodbye to me first.
I decided that Walter was too honourable to just run out on me.
I braced myself for the scene to come and walked into the cabin.
Walter was in the kitchen. He turned and smiled at me.
"Alex! Good, dinner will be ready in about forty minutes. You've time for a
shower."
I nodded and headed for the shower.
'Maybe he's going to feed me first,' I thought, 'And then tell me.'
I was in the shower when I felt Walter slide in with me.
"I've missed you," he said, nibbling my neck.
"You had Mulder for company," I pointed out.
Walter stopped nibbling.
"He was here for less than an hour, Alex."
"Really?" I said, laying on the sarcasm. "Well, I guess if you're meeting
him later it doesn't matter..."
"What?"
He sounded puzzled, maybe he hadn't thought I'd work things out so quickly.
"Walter," I said. "I may look dumb compared with Mulder, but I am not
stupid. I could see what he wanted from the minute he saw you."
"I am not having this conversation in the shower," Walter said. "I shall
wash your back and then turn the dinner down so that we can talk."
I sighed.
So I wasn't going to get fed first.
I dried off and dressed in sweats. I considered packing but decided that I
was here as Mike's patient. Walter could be the one to pack.
Anyway, Mike would be furious if I upped and left without a word.
He deserved better from me.
Walter was on the couch when I strolled back into the sitting room.
"Come and sit down, Alex," he said quietly.
I sat on the other couch.
"I'd rather you sat next to me," he said, still quiet and calm.
I considered the options and moved to share the couch with Walter. But I
didn't sit next to him, I sat at one end of the couch, my back resting
against the arm and my legs drawn up in front of me like a barrier.
I thought I heard a quiet sigh.
"Now, would you like to explain your words in the shower or must I make some
guesses?"
"What needs explaining?" I demanded. "I saw the way Mulder looked at you."
"So did I," he said. "So what?"
I was at a loss for words.
"He... he wants you."
"He can't have me. I'm taken."
"But..."
"But?"
"He's... he's Mulder. He's everything you deserve, everything you could
possibly want."
"Is he?"
"Well, isn't he?"
"No."
"Why not? What's wrong with him?"
"Well, shall we start with the obvious. He's my subordinate, and a very
troublesome one at that. His eyes are the wrong colour. "
"He's good-looking, intelligent, honourable..."
"He's not bad looking," Walter conceded. "Although too long and lean for my
taste. He parades his intelligence like it's something special, as if he is
homo superior. And his honour is questionable."
"Is it? Not as questionable as..."
"As yours? Perhaps not. Nonetheless, his behaviour towards you has not
always been... appropriate. Neither has mine for that matter."
I shifted uneasily. We had discussed our past actions in some detail over
the past weeks, rehashing old events, trying to understand what we'd done
and why.
I returned to the main point.
"So you and Mulder are not..."
"Friends? Yes, we're friends. Lovers? Never."
I exhaled noisily.
"Alex, were you really expecting me to ride off into the sunset with
Mulder? Is that why you were out all day?"
"He's just... so much better than me..." I managed.
"Not for me," Walter said. "Come here."
I scooted along the couch until I was sitting next to him.
I felt a warm arm across my shoulders, a gentle pressure encouraging me to
lay my head on a broad shoulder.
He felt so solid, so safe, so reassuring... I relaxed, leaned into his
embrace, felt his other arm encircle me.
"There," he said, "It's okay, I understand... but you are all I need,
Alex. All I will ever need. I'm sorry I've never told you before. Lots of
times."
He paused.
"There are things I could never take to Mulder. Things that Mike realised I
could not share with him. I never have shared with him."
"Yes," I said, softly.
I had memories I could not easily share, I knew what Walter meant.
"When... when Mike brought my mother to the hospital... it was for
more than a picnic and a chat."
"I guessed," I said.
"She was the only one... she just held me while I cried."
I reached around him and hugged him to show I understood.
"I love you, Alex," he said softly.
"I love you, Walter," I said, cuddling closer.
"I... I want to tell you about it. About 'Nam."
"Okay," I said.
It seemed like a stupid thing to say, even when I said it, but Walter didn't
seem to mind.
He just started talking and I listened.
It was not a pretty story but then again, few stories from 'Nam are.
When he started crying, I held him tightly and stroked him, murmuring
reassurances and love into his ear.
Eventually he calmed again but I still held him.
We stayed like that for a long time.
I knew we had a lot to talk about.
My arm was almost fully usable now. Somewhere along the line I had stopped
thinking of it as 'the' arm—it was a part of me now.
Soon we would leave this place. We would have to decide where to go and what
to do.
Together.
Part One
woke slowly, returning to consciousness while revelling in the warmth and
security and comfort of being in bed with Walter Skinner.
