by Lady Midath
Spender fixed the other man with a withering stare. "I
did not ask your opinion
on how much he can take Owen. I believe I gave you a
direct order. Wake him up."
Spender did not raise his voice, he didn't have to. He
watched as Owen bent down
to the unconscious man strapped in the chair.
He right about one thing. Spender thought as he lit a
cigarette. He's not
looking good at all.
Both of them were correct. Alex was in fact looking
dreadful indeed.
He was sitting half slumped in the hard wooden chair,
his battered looking body
listing to one side. The only thing that was keeping
him from falling onto the
floor were the thick straps that secured him to the
frame of the chair.
"Krycek...c'mon wakey wakey." Owen slapped Alex's
swollen face lightly, trying
to bring the younger man back around once more.
Alex's one good eye fluttered open, the other was
swollen shut. His cracked
puffy lips parted slightly, emitting a soft groan.
"Water." He whispered. "Please...some water..."
"He's awake." Owen announced somewhat unnecessarily.
He straightened back up.
He's all yours."
Spender nodded satisfied, then stared down at the
subject of his somewhat
aggressive interrogation.
"Welcome back Alex." He said easily as he regarded the
battered young man
through the cigarette smoke haze that permeated the
small airless room.
"Uhh." Alex's one eye blinked at him, confused.
"Where..."
"Don't you remember Alex, I had you brought here three
days ago. Owen and
Paulson delivered you to me. Surely you must
remember."
"Walter, where's Walter." Alex had come around fully
now, he glanced around the
small cell like room frantically.
"Is that anything like where's Wally?" A slightly
smaller man dressed in jeans
and a long jacket said with a sneer.
Spender rounded on him. "Keep quiet!"
Paulson paled and took a step back. "Uh, sorry Mr
Spender."
Taking a breath, the Smoking Man turned back to Alex
once more, cool reptilian
smile firmly in place.
"Now Alex, why are you concerned with the Assistant
Director, after all, I
rescued you from him. You should be grateful to me
that I got you away from
him."
Weakly Alex shook his head, a soft moan escaping from
his painfully swollen
lips.
"Please, I don't know what you want from me." Alex
whispered, his voice rasping.
He was not sure how long it had been since he had been
given anything to drink,
his throat burned his stomach cramped for the lack of
water.
He ran his tongue along his parched lips, feeling the
cracked peeling skin.
"Spender...why?"
The Smoking Man shrugged nonchalantly. "Why not?"
Alex looked at him for a moment, then looked away, how
could he have ever worked
for this man? How could he have ever admired him?
How could he have not seen the pure malice that
Spender's urbane mask had
hidden?
Suddenly Spender bent down towards Alex, the younger
man could smell the tobacco
on his breath.
"Now, about that information disc."
Part Two
Walter sat behind his desk, rifling through all the
reports. He had made finding
Alex his top priority.
At first Mulder and Scully had been puzzled. The AD
had put finding Krycek on
the backburner and now he was pulling out all stops to
locate him.
"He has vital information that we need, so finding him
is number one on our
list." He had told them both tersely.
Mulder and Scully had looked at each other, surprised
at this sudden turn of
events, then they had immediately set to work.
Walter had then called in every favour, and called
every informant and contact
that he had, he found himself dialing numbers that he
had not dialed in a very
long time, but all to no avail.
Three days, the black lunged son of a bitch had been
holding Alex for three
days. Christ, Walter could not bear to think about
what they could be doing to
him.
The large man rose from behind his desk and walked
over to the small bathroom in
his office.
Opening the door and switching on the light, he turned
the cold water tap on,
and after removing the wire rim glasses that he always
wore, he splashed water
on his face, trying to remove the grittiness from his
eyes.
Straightening up, he caught sight of his reflection in
the mirror. A haggard old
man with red rimmed eyes stared back at him.
Jesus, he thought, do I really look like that? He
sighed, well it was no
surprise, it was not as though he had been able to eat
or sleep since those
bastards had taken Alex.
Alex. Even the very thought of him cut through
Walter's heart like a knife. He
had not realized how dependent he had become on the
beautiful young man that he
had so cruelly chained to his bed.
Walter felt something inside him turn over. How in
god's name could he have let
this happen, how could he have let Alex get taken by a
man whose ruthlessness
was matched only by his sheer maliciousness.
"I lost him." He whispered, he looked at the haggard
old man in the mirror and
saw the despair deep within the dark brown eyes.
Finally unable to stand the
sight of misery and defeat anymore, he lowered his
head and wept.
Part Three
"He's not going to talk." Owen said matter of factly
as he picked his cup of
coffee up and took a sip.
Spender glanced at the Consortium operative, his eyes
cold and speculative. "I
think that eventually he can be...persuaded, given
time."
Owen saw the look in the older man's face and
repressed a shudder. Suddenly he
found himself wishing that he were anywhere but in the
same room with the
Smoking Man...say Siberia.
"We have tried everything Mr Spender." Paulson piped
up. "But that is one
stubborn little fucker you've got there. He's not
talking at all, unless he's
asking for Skinner. Other than that, forget it."
Spender thought for a moment, absently watching the
glowing tip of his
ubiquitous cigarette. Then he said slowly. "The
trouble is gentlemen, you both
see pain as a blunt instrument, something to bludgeon
someone into submission,
but I see pain as a precise tool, a scalpel if you
will, something to help peel
away the layers to reveal the truths that lie beneath
the surface."
Both Paulson and Owen stared at Spender as their cups
of coffees cooled in front
of them.
"What I am say gentlemen is that I think it's time for
us to get, a little
creative."
Part Four
"Well what have you got for me so far?" Walter asked
barely keeping the
impatience out of his voice.
Both Mulder and Scully were sitting across from him in
his office, they had been
out in the field all day. So far they had turned up
absolutely nothing.
"We have followed up just about every lead and every
source Sir." Dana Scully
told the AD. "But so far it's all been dead ends."
Mulder nodded in agreement. "I'm sorry Sir, but this
is Alex Krycek we're
talking about, he's a master at not being found unless
he wants to be."
"I realize that Agent Mulder." Walter replied evenly.
"But I have it on good
authority that he has been taken against his will and
that his life could be in
grave danger."
Mulder cocked his head slightly. "And this is bad,
because?"
"This is bad because he has vital information that we
need in order to try and
stop the Consortium's plans." Walter replied, he could
not tell either of his
agents the real reason for the frantic search for a
man that both of them
despised and distrusted to the extreme.
Mulder nodded, his face thoughtful. "All we can do is
keep looking but I have to
be honest Sir, Krycek won't be found unless he wants
to be."
Walter watched them both leave, then let his breath
out in a noisy gust. The
trouble was in one way Mulder was right. Wherever
Spender had spirited Alex,
there was no easy way of finding it, let alone getting
in to rescue Alex and
getting out in one piece.
But he had made a vow, a vow to the man that he had
come to care for, a man that
he had sought to punish, but instead had become a
lifeline for him, and now it
was time to pay the debt,after all, he owed Alex that
much.
Part Five
"AARRHHHHGG!"
Alex's head whipped from side to side as the current
from the electric cattle
prod tore through him.
After agonizing minutes the prod was withdrawn and
Alex's sweatslicked body
slumped against the chair.
Owen looked over at Spender, holding the cattle prod
aloft. "Sir?"
Spender stared down at Alex's trembling frame
seemingly unaware that his
operative had spoken.
Owen waited for a moment, unsure, then Spender seemed
to shake himself out of
his reverie.
"Again."
Owen stared at him. "Sir?"
"I said, again." Spender's voice was implacable.
"But, any more of this Sir and his heart might give
out." Owen replied. Spender
smiled slightly, he stared down at the battered form
of his former assistant
with absolutely no feeling of pity what so ever.
"Owen, I gave you an order and I expect to see it
obeyed, is that clear?" He
fixed the other man with an annoyed look. Owen nodded
swallowing hard and
stepped forward with the cattle prod once more.
Part Six
The apartment was silent when Walter returned later
that night, he walked into
the bedroom, setting his briefcase down near the door
like he always did.
Then he walked over to the wardrobe and opened it up
to hang his coat and jacket
up.
Suddenly his eyes lighted on something, he reached
over and picked it up. It was
a slender black paddle.
Slowly Walter turned it over in his hands, feeling the
weight and balance of it.
How many times had Walter used this on Alex's bare
arse? Five times? Ten? A
dozen?
Whatever possessed me? He wondered as he replaced the
paddle, what could ever
make me think that someone like Alex could be tamed?
And by using methods like
this? What had he been thinking?
Suddenly he found himself rummaging through the rest
of the contents of the
wardrobe...the whips and crops, the straps and
harnesses complete with
gags...the manacles.
Suddenly something caught his attention, the object
making him draw breath. It
was Alex's prosthetic arm, he had taken it off the
assassin and locked it into
the wardrobe. He had done it purely to demoralize the
younger man.
After a while Walter had simply left it there, Alex's
stump did not bother the
AD, hell he had seen far worse in Vietnam.
Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he closed the
door once more.
It had all seemed like a good idea at the time, he
thought bitterly. God, where
had he heard that before? Walter's lips quirked up in
a humourless smile.
But it had, that was where the trouble lay, so to
speak. After everything that
Alex had done to him, punching him into near
unconsciousness, blackmailing him
with the nanocytes. It had been the last straw seeing
that son of a bitch in the
elevator, riding up to the seventeenth, just to pay
Walter a little visit with
that dammed palm pilot.
It had been pure reflex to land a crippling punch on
the side of the little rat
bastard's jaw and to carry him up to his apartment. It
had been lucky that none
of the neighbors had seen him with an unconscious man
slung over his shoulder.
Walter had handcuffed Alex to the bed with the express
intention of punishing
him for everything that he had done. It had all seemed
so clear, so easy, take
one assassin out of commission, get the palm pilot and
take it to the FBI's lab
in hopes that the scientists there might find a way to
rid him of those cursed
nanocytes once and for all. And make use of one dammed
sexy little rodent all at
the same time. Life could not get any better than
this.
Falling in love with him had not been part of the
plan. And then losing him to a
monster like Spender...oh good Christ, what had he
done?
Walter sank down onto the bed, exhaustion and
helplessness overwhelming him.
Then slowly he pulled himself together, he was no good
to anyone like this.
Focus Walter, focus. He ordered himself sternly. You
need to think about what
you can do now, you can't just fall into self pity
like this.
Finally finding the last of reserve of his strength,
he began to weigh his
options.
Part Seven
Alex moaned softly, swaying from side to side, the
only thing keeping him on his
feet was the harness that had been attached by thick
sturdy chain to a heavy
beam overhead.
Blood slowly dribbled down the side of his chin from
where yet another blow from
a hard fist had opened up a deep cut in the corner of
his mouth.
Dimly, he heard the door open up behind him. His eye
cracked open and he watched
as a tall neat figure approached.
Suddenly a bright flare and once again the room was
permeated with cigarette
smoke.
"I don't understand it Alex." That cold dry voice
spoke. "Why do you persist in
being so stubborn?"
Alex said nothing, he pressed his lips together in the
only show of defiance
that he had left.
Spender shook his head, Alex's whole attitude puzzled
him. Spender suspected
that Skinner held a certain disc that contained
information that could cause
considerable embarrassment to certain members of the
Consortium if it ever came
to light.
That was why Alex had been sent to pay Walter Skinner
a little visit that day,
to put a little pressure on the AD, with help from a
certain palm pilot of
course.
Spender had waited for his assistant to return from
his mission, the trouble
was, Alex never came back.
Spender had been beside himself with rage, he had
naturally assumed that the
sneaky little rat had recovered the disc, with the
damming information, then had
decided to try and sell it...or perhaps keep it for
blackmail purposes. Either
way, he had needed that disc back.
He had sent his best people in search of Alex and the
disc, but to no avail,
until it had finally been discovered that Alex had
become a permanent houseguest
courtesy of one Walter Sergei Skinner.
Spender had found it all rather funny, after all, who
would have thought the
middle aged balding bureaucrat had it in him.
But there was still the matter of the disc. Now that
was a dilemma in itself.
That and the fact that Alex simply refused to talk, he
seemed to be protecting
the AD for some reason that Spender simply could not
fathom.
"Alex," he began, why won't you tell me where the disc
is?"
Alex stared at him out of his one good eye. "Why
should I?" He rasped.
"Well it would save you a lot of pain would it not?"
Spender's voice was smooth,
Alex glared at him with loathing.
"Why are you protecting him Alex? After everything
that he has done to you, why
protect him?"
"Because Walter Skinner had more decency than anyone
that I know, that's why."
Alex replied.
Spender's eyebrows shot up. "Decent, is this the same
man that that has held you
prisoner on his bed for the past six weeks we are
talking about?"
"I know he's done that to me...and much more, but then
look at everything I did
to him." Alex spat out, his eyes glinting with tears,
the other still swollen
shut.
"At least he's shown me some kind of affection, some
kindness, shit no one's
ever shown me anything in my life except the back of
their hand."
Spender sighed. "Alex, I do believe you have fallen in
love with AD Skinner." He
personally found this turn of events amusing, and very
enlightening indeed.
"Fuck you Spender." Alex snarled, his voice breaking.
"I'll die before I'll tell
you about any fucking disc....understand?"
"Perfectly." Spender replied. He turned and left the
room.
He sat in the small neat office, turning the
conversation that he had just had
over in his mind.
The other members of the Consortium had been putting
pressure on him lately to
recover that disc.
and now after the revealing talk with Alex, and having
been informed about
Skinner's frantic search for the young man...another
option had just presented
itself. There was one other thing he could do, and
that was perhaps to offer
some sort of trade....
Part Eight
Skinner looked up as the door to his office opened.
"Mr Skinner." Spender greeted him. Without preamble,
he held his hand out.
"Where is he?" Skinner asked coldly.
"Somewhere safe." Spender replied evenly. "Now to hold
up your end of the
bargain, where is the disc?"
"Somewhere safe." Skinner replied coolly.
The Smoking Man chuckled. "Touche Mr Skinner. You will
find what you are looking
for at this address." He handed a slip of paper to
Walter.
He read the address and nodded, it was not far from
here.
"Now, for what I want." Spender said, watching the
other man closely.
Walter handed him a key. The bus station, it's in a
locker. The number is one
the key."
Spender graced the AD with a cool self satisfied
smile. "Thank you Mr Skinner,
and may I say what a pleasure it has been doing
business with you."
Walter watched him leave, cool rage knotting his
stomach, that and something
else. Taking a calming breath. He called Kim, informed
her that he was leaving
early that day. Then grabbing his coat, left his
office.
Part Nine
The doctor looked up from the clipboard to the tired
looking man with red puffy
eyes. He looked as though he had been crying. A
relative, the doctor presumed.
"How is he?" Walter asked, his voice hoarse. "How's
Alex?"
He had found Alex in a deserted warehouse over on
Fifth. He had been left lying
on the floor, still strapped in the harness and
manacle.
Walter had tenderly taken it off the battered body of
the young man and
carefully gathering Alex up into his arms, he had
carried him out to where his
car was parked and taken him straight to the hospital.
The doctors had worked on him for over three hours
while Walter had explained
that he had been the victim of some sort of brutal
mugging.
"They took everything including his clothes. Walter
had lied smoothly. The
doctors had been satisfied with that, after all
working the emergency ward in a
public hospital they had seen everything.
"Alex Krycek, are you a relative?" The doctor asked.
Walter nodded.
"He's just been taken to the recovery ward, you can
see him, but only for a few
minutes. He's still under the anesthetic so I doubt
you'll be able to talk to
him or anything."
Walter entered the cool impersonal room. He approached
the bed and the pale
still figure lying beneath the sheet.
Nearby machines beeped and hummed, monitoring Alex's
life signs. Walter reached
out to touch his bruised and swollen face.
Suddenly a feeling of deja vu, Walter remembered
another love of his life, lying
still, swathed in bandages, hooked up to machines.
Except that Sharon had died, and Alex would live.
Walter was sincerely thankful for that, he could not
imagine a world without
Alex Krycek in it.
"Alex." He began, his voice soft with emotion. "I
don't know whether you can
hear me or not, but there's something I need to say."
He stopped for a moment,
fighting the lump back down in his throat.
"I'm letting you go Alex, what I did was wrong, to try
and keep you like some
sort of pet... you're no one's pet, you never could
be. You're too wild, to
untamed to ever be domesticated. I tried and nearly
broke your spirit, the one
thing that makes you...you."
There was no movement from the bed, Walter sighed. He
bent down to kiss the cool
skin of Alex's forehead.
"I'm letting you go Alex, you deserve your freedom,
and whatever life you choose
for yourself. But know this my darling, I will love
you for the rest of my life.
I will never forget you." A tear slid down Walter's
cheek and dropped onto
Alex's face, just below his right eye. It sat for a
moment, shimmering in the
light, then slid down the bruised skin.
With one last look, Walter turned and left the room,
his heart aching as he left
the hospital to return to his lonely empty life.
Part Ten
It had been over two months since Walter had left Alex
in the hospital, two long
months, broken only by work.
Walter stepped into the elevator, pressing the button
for the seventeenth floor.
The doors were about to slide shut, when suddenly a
dark jacketed figure
squeezed through, barely making it into the elevator.
Skinner glanced at the man standing beside him, cap
pulled down low on his head,
then frowned. Suddenly the man spoke, familiar voice
filling the small space.
"I believe you have something that belongs to me,
namely an arm."
"Alex." Walter's heart stood still. "Alex!"
Suddenly he found himself with an armful of
ex-Consortium agent. Laughing with a
mixture of surprise and pure joy, Walter gathered the
younger man into his arms,
kissing him soundly.
"Why did you leave me in that hospital Walter?" he
heard Alex's anguished
whisper. "Why?"
"Oh Alex, I am so so sorry." Walter said as he stroked
the younger man's hair.
"I promise I will never leave you again...I swear, we
will never be apart,
never."
Alex head nodded against the bigger man's shoulder.
Together they rode the elevator up to the seventeenth
floor, arms entwined
around each other.
Something good can happen in elevators, Walter thought
as he cradled Alex in his
arms, gratefully, perhaps he should call that
attractive psychiatrist that he
had used to see a few months ago. But decided against
it. After all he had more
important he had more important things to do.
He looked down at Alex, who smiled up at him, his eyes
no longer dark and
resentful. They were clear and filled with love, and
more importantly, trust.
This is where it begins, Walter thought to himself
This is where we both truly
begin.
Part One
ake him up."
The tall dark haired operative glanced at Spender
dubiously. "Mr Spender, I
don't think he can take much more."
