by Ursula
It's very dark. From the fumes, I realize I'm in a trunk. It's cramped and I'm
folded around myself. I feel cold and stiff, numb. I can't move a muscle and my
eyes are fixed in a semi-open position. I'm looking through lashes that are
stiff with old tears. I'm very confused about what is happening. The last thing
I remember is confronting Mulder, trying to push his buttons to see if he was
really Mulder.
Then, I saw Walter Skinner. I thought I could control him.
Damn, I made the same mistake as Spender.
The big man is flexible. He bends, but he doesn't break. You think he's afraid,
but he's behind the compliant mask, planning his next move.
I should have remembered. I played chess with him when...
It was a long time ago. In another country. Besides, the man that I pretended to
be never lived.
I bet he thinks that was another way to get him by the balls. You'd think he'd
notice that it's been a hell of a long time and no one is blackmailing him with
pictures. No one is confronting him with the evidence of a love affair with a
man. Bad enough that it was a subordinate. That it was someone later revealed as
a double agent must have kept him up nights for a long time.
I must have blacked out for a while. When I wake up, Walter Skinner is looking
down at me. The expression on his face is amazing. He looks relieved, guilty,
and queasy all at the same time.
I'm really scared. What the hell is he planning?
Skinner hauls me out of his trunk. I realize that I am lying on a tarp in a
fetal position. He's trying to keep the tarp between his hands and my body
although he's wearing evidence gloves. Funny, Walter was never squeamish. The
man has been around dying men since he was eighteen years old. So, this must be
personal. Maybe he thinks I'll give him bubonic plague or something.
I hit the ground with a thud. It hurts and I scream in my head, but my face is
frozen. I don't even whimper. He looks upset and his hands shake as he wraps me
tightly in the tarp. He must have had duct tape or something as I can hear the
sound of something being cut and the tarp is tighter and tighter around me. I'm
panicking. I finally get it. He thinks I'm dead.
I'm screaming in my head.
Please.
Not even I deserve to be buried alive.
Walter, you're a trained FBI agent. Can't you tell that I'm not finished? Give
me the coup de grace. For the pleasure that I gave you, give me that much.
I can hear something. A car? A car is coming.
Walter curses and I feel myself being dragged. Walter is panting in fear. I fall
a short distance. I hear a car door slam and the tires peeling away. Walter must
have dumped me in a ditch and left me.
Oh God. Oh God, help me. I don't want to die like this. I don't want to die
alone.
I hear another car. The door slams and I hear a yelp. It's a dog, I think. I
hear it crying and a harsh voice yelling. "Get the hell away from me. Fucking,
stupid bitch, just like the one that left me. I'll show you. I'll show her. I
hope the coyotes eat you alive."
The dog is howling and suddenly there is a blinding flash in my head. Damn, what
did Spender do to me?
Yeah, Spender...
I didn't check and make sure that he was dead. I don't know what I was thinking.
Marita and I were like a pair of abused kids, running away from what we thought
was Spender's body as if it could get up and chase us.
I hope she got away. We've used each other and hurt each other, but we have more
in common than anyone else that I have ever met. We were both the abused
stepchildren of the Consortium. I didn't see her when Spender had my ass hauled
to that creepy laboratory. He didn't say what was being done to me. I just know
that it fucked up my head.
It hurt too. They kept injecting me with crap and taking samples, not just my
blood, but marrow and spinal fluid. No one would tell me what the purpose was. I
just lay there, strapped to the table, with tears flowing down into my ears.
When Spender said he had work for me, I would have done anything he said just to
be off that table. He kept looking at me and grinning. He was smoking again and
the stoma from his neck was missing. I thought he must have found a tame alien
healer.
I didn't know they were that good.
I bet he would have loved this. Alex Krycek dumped in a ditch like an abandoned
dog.
I can hear that dog sniffing about. At least, I hope it's the dog. Maybe it's
coyotes coming to eat me?
I found my voice and whispered, "Hey, dog, hey, dog, help me, dog."
Man, I didn't really expect the dog to respond. It started to scratch at the
tarp. It wasn't that tight around my head and when the dog grabbed the edge and
tugged, it started to give.
It took a long time for the dog to work enough of the tarp and tape loose to
free my arm.
I kept passing out. I was in bad shape. The only thing I couldn't understand was
why I wasn't dead. I know Walter shot me three times. The last one was in my
head. I know that there have been some weird cases of people walking around with
massive head injuries, but this seemed bizarre. What was strange was that I was
healing. It wasn't anything dramatic, but I could feel the hole getting smaller
in my head and my arm was no longer bleeding.
Every time, I woke up, the dog was licking my face. I thought at first it simply
tasted the blood, but it patted my face with its paw and whined. I was so cold
and it struck me how warm the dog's breath was. I whispered, "Here, baby, lie
down with me. Come here, girl, lie down."
It was a pretty dog. I had never seen anything like it. One side of her face was
pure white, like angel's wings. The eye on that side was an incredible blue.
Maybe she was an alien dog? I even wondered if she was an angel. A little dog
angel sent to help me.
Yeah, right, if anything supernatural came for Alex Krycek, I suppose it would
have had hooves and smelled like brimstone.
The other side of her face was a strange bluish-black speckled color and the eye
was brown. She had thick fur, very soft. When she pressed close to me, it hurt
the wound in my chest, but I felt warmer and that made up for it. I cried a
little. I thought I was still dying, but at least, I wasn't alone.
I was passed out when Walter came back. I woke hearing him exclaim, "Oh, my
God...you're alive? How can that be?"
The dog was barking at him. He had his gun out and was pointing it at her. That
scared me more than the thought that he would finish the job. I hurt so much
that dying didn't really frighten me. I managed to croak out, "Don't hurt her.
She's just trying to protect me."
I called my only friend, "Here, baby, here, good girl, it's okay. Walter won't
hurt you."
I looked at Skinner, his face calm and stolid, expressionless as a judge. I
said, "When you get done with me, this dog needs someone to take care of her.
Some shit head dumped her."
Walter squatted down, looking at me and at the dog. He shook his head and the
hand with the gun moved. I close my eyes and pushed the dog away so the shot
wouldn't hurt her.
A minute later, Walter said, "You bastard!"
The gun was put away and I screamed as Walter's hands roughly lifted me out of
that ditch. He grunted, "Sorry, you're too heavy. Hold on to me if you can."
The dog was running around and barking. Walter swore as she nipped at his leg. I
yelled, "Don't hurt her. She's just a puppy."
Walter laughed. It was an odd sound, choked and rusty, as if he had forgotten
how to laugh. If he had, it was my fault. I had done it to him with the
nanobytes. Of course, that hadn't been my idea. I don't get off on hurting
people.
Yeah, I put the screws into Walter. I was a cruel son of a bitch. It made me
feel better to make someone squirm as I was doing on Spender's hook. I used the
nanos on him like a picador; I stuck my verbal barbs in Walter's thick hide. You
know, even with the bulls, every once in a while; the bull gets one of the human
devils that torment it.
I'm surprisingly normal though. I like to make love. I like a soft couch and a
hot meal just like the next guy. I was even fond of Walter when he was my lover.
He's not as beautiful as Mulder, but damn, that man is experienced. When he
worked me over with his tongue, his powerful hands, and his thick cock, I used
to melt for him. I would feel him laughing at me as his mouth surrounded my
sensitive nipples or even more sensitive cock. I didn't care. I just wanted
more. A guy like Walter might not be up for multiple orgasms, but when he made
love to me, the one conclusion we might have was perfect. He was hardly ever in
a hurry. He spent long moments teasing me, exploring me, making me feel as if I
was the most beautiful creature on earth. When he was finished, he would hold me
until we fell asleep. I never left his bed or apartment without a deep soulful
kiss.
Walter was separated from his wife when I was his lover. I always wondered what
she found that was better than the man she left. Walter might have been a
workaholic and intense, but he was not only a good lover, but also a tender and
intelligent.
I would have stayed if I'd had a choice. I wouldn't have hurt Walter if it had
been left up to me. I tried to get away from Spender so many times. I never
succeeded for more than a few months. Ultimately, he would have me dragged back
and when he did, he made me scream and I don't mean the way that Walter did.
Walter jerked me back to the present when he put me in the back seat of his car.
That's when I finally understood that he wasn't going to kill me. You would
think I would have been content with that, but the dog was crying. I said,
"Please don't leave her. She can't take care of herself."
Walter just stared and said, "I can't believe this shit."
I wasn't sure what he decided, but a moment later, his gruff voice said, "Come
on, dog. "
The little girl dog hopped in and settled with her nose resting on my hand. I
said, "Thanks, Walter."
"Don't thank me yet, I may still dump you both on the freeway," Walter replied.
The car was warm and I felt comfortable. I was too weak to think about what
might come next. I slept like a baby all the way back to Walter's place. I woke
up when he put me in his bed. I knew it was his bed although I had not been in
this new place. It smelled like Walter, male, strong, and spicy. The dog jumped
up beside me. Walter said, "Off! Get off my bed, dog."
That tiny, thin dog growled at him. He said, "Shit, it's as vicious as you are."
Walter left the dog alone and a while later Scully showed up with Mulder. That
frightened me. I didn't want Mulder to hit me. I didn't want to be hurt anymore.
My nerve had shattered. I was like a broken wind-up toy. There was nothing left
to make me go.
Mulder seemed more curious than belligerent. I should have known that there were
two ways to mollify him. Sex worked, but I didn't think offering that in front
of Scully was a good idea. Giving him a puzzle was also effective and I was a
puzzle.
Scully examined me and said that I was not in need of surgery. I don't know
where the bullets went. The wound in my chest looked a week old. My arm was
healing too. I could still feel a scabbing hole in my forehead, but my brains
were unscrambling. Finally, she just cleaned me up with help from Walter and
Mulder, bandaged my chest wound and stuck an IV in me to replace fluids. She
said she would get me a prescription for painkillers and antibiotics.
I just tried to stay quiet and to keep from getting aggressive when she took her
blood samples. She didn't have a good touch with me. I bet she was gentle when
she took care of Mulder. I can't say I blame her. Scully has as much reason to
be pissed at me as Walter had.
As she took the gloves and mask off, she asked, "Who sent you to save me?"
"Spender," I admitted.
"Why? Does it have to do with William?" Scully asked.
"I don't know for sure. The consortium isn't just one man's direction. The old
men who remain oppose each other. I never made it to that level of information
to understand all the motivations. I can't say who wants your son alive and who
wants him dead, but Spender wanted him alive. Spender said that I should just do
as I was told and that I wasn't ruthless enough to get to the top of the food
chain," I replied.
Mulder's eyes narrowed and that familiar biting smirk crossed his face. He said,
"Spender mustn't have known you as well as he thought."
Scully wasn't enjoying the game. She reached for the little girl dog and brushed
back her hair. The half-grown puppy wiggled for her. Scully said, "She has
fleas. You'd better give her a bath if she's going to be on your bed."
Walter said, "Pick up flea collars for them both, Scully. I didn't plan to have
either of them in my bed, but I don't know what else to do with them."
Mulder laughed at that. I had the feeling he knew about Walter. Probably smelled
him on me one of those times. Mulder came near me and I shook. He didn't hit me
though. He said, "I'm glad that you're not dead, Alex." He stroked my hair and
made a face as he hit some crusted blood that the quick bath had missed. "Now, I
can still look forward to finishing you myself."
I knew he wasn't serious. I know Mulder about as well as anyone does except
Scully. I know his temperament with the focus of someone whose physical health
depends on guessing right on what Mulder is thinking. I have a harder time
reading Walter. He plays it closer to the cuff than Mulder. Of course, I've seen
actors emoting who showed his or her feelings less than Mulder does.
Mulder and Scully moved to the door together. I move like that with him on those
rare occasions when we play on the same team. I think that's what drives Mulder
crazy about me. I feel as if I should be a member of his pack and I'm not.
Walter picked up the little girl dog and hauled her toward the bathroom. She
appeared to have decided that he was the boss-man. Good for her. Maybe Walter
would keep her when he dumped me into prison or back on the street. I wouldn't
subject the dog to the way I lived. She could keep Walter company.
I heard Walter cursing and the sound of splashing. I smiled despite my misery. I
wished I were in there to watch. I'd have bet Walter looked good all wet from
wrestling with that spotted dog.
Walter came back with the dog wrapped in a big towel. She looked thinner than
ever wet, but I think she felt better.
Walter commented, "Damn dog was covered with fleas."
"Sorry," I said.
Walter put her down and proceeded to undress. He was a little heavier than when
I was with him, but his body still looked good to me. I ogled him as he stripped
out of the jeans and shirt he had been wearing, putting the clothing in a sack.
He looked at me quizzically when he noticed me watching. He said, "Don't try to
con me, Krycek. I know you now. All that big eyed shit is not persuading me of
anything."
"Hey, I thought you were putting on a free show for me," I said.
Walter disappeared. I heard the shower running and then he came back, smelling
clean and looking less tired. He crouched to pet the dog again and asked, "What
are you going to name her?"
"Name her?" I asked.
"Yes, name her. Dogs need names," Walter said as if I was being very obtuse.
"Ludmilla," I said.
"Ludmilla?" Walter asked.
'She was a Russian princess," I said crossly. EVERYONE knew about Ludmilla. What
was wrong with Walter? Hadn't he ever been a kid?
Carefully moving my sore arm, I reached up and felt for the wound on my head.
Walter sat down on the bed and said, "Leave that alone. If you keep picking at
it, it will scar."
"I don't care," I said.
"No reason to mess up your looks," Walter said.
"If I had been ugly, Spender wouldn't have picked me from the orphanage," I
replied. I had always thought that if I had just banged up my face the day that
Spender came to the orphanage that the man would have picked someone else.
Such a pretty boy, the female attendants had said. They had kept me very clean,
brushing my hair and saying how soft it was, smoothing my brows, and giving me
the best food and clothing, they could offer. I hadn't thought anything of it at
the time. My parents had loved me. When they had been killed in a car accident,
I had grieved completely. Being fussed over the way I was at the orphanage was
natural to me and I had been puzzled that some of the children were treated
differently.
The orphanage staff had said that I was so pretty, intelligent, and well
mannered that surely an American couple would adopt me and I would be rich. At
the time, I had no desire to be adopted. I had hid when one couple had smiled at
me, but when Spender had gone through, he had insisted on seeing all of the
children and reviewing the records.
I had not wanted to leave Russia. I hadn't been allowed to go to the funeral. I
didn't tell anyone, but I thought that my parents might have gotten out of the
car and that they would not be able to find me if I went to America. Spender
hadn't given me a choice. He wasn't much into choices. Still wasn't.
I had never really had the gift of keeping my trap shut. If I had been smart, I
would have been trying to remind Walter of the distant past and making promises
to make it worth his while to keep my ass alive. I wasn't feeling smart and
staying alive seemed one of those 'I can take it or leave it' deals.
I asked, "Why didn't you just finish it?"
"The dog would have bit me," Walter replied.
"Right," I said.
Walter stared at me and said, "You're bait. I shot the gun when I wanted the
trigger finger. I keep forgetting that you aren't the one that calls the shots.
You're just the Consortium errand boy and whore...although I imagine that you
don't get a lot of call for the latter since that trip to Russia."
"Ouch," I said. I closed my eyes. It did hurt. Being pretty had been the cause
of my trouble, but it spared me some of the worst abuse I might have
experienced. Besides, as I said, I did care about Walter. I think part of the
reason I got a charge out of the nanobytes was that I always figured that Walter
could have helped me.
Maybe I didn't give him a chance. I didn't tell him anything directly and he
didn't seem to catch any of my hints. From what I saw, Walter wouldn't have
given me the time of day if he'd found out that I worked for Spender. As for
Walter's entanglements, I never found out what Spender held over Walter's head.
I knew it was something.
Of course, you have to understand that Spender met many FBI administrators as
part of the 'government'. They didn't question his role when they saw he had the
ear of the director. You don't question certain things in the FBI if you want to
be promoted. That's why Mulder would have been a special agent forever. I don't
think Walter knew who Spender really was until the man grew bold in his
interference with Mulder. He knew the guy was black ops, but not how bad he
really was. My Walter wasn't a fool, but he had lines he wouldn't cross. He
wouldn't have sold out his agents and he certainly wouldn't have collaborated
with the aliens.
I must have fallen asleep. I woke up to Scully's hands on me. She took my
temperature and checked my pulse. She said, "You are doing fine, Krycek."
Wow, bed side manner even. I was impressed. She had Walter and Mulder turn me on
my side. I had been put to bed in one of Walter's tee shirts and a pair of his
boxers. They didn't fit, of course. Scully pulled down the shorts, swiped
something cold against my butt and jabbed home a needle. Jeez, she at least
could have said I had a pretty ass. Nearly everyone thought so.
After that, everything became cloudy and warm. I smiled at everyone as they put
some flea medicine on Ludmilla.
"He has to go to a vet,' Scully said.
Me? Shit, I knew Mulder called me a rat, but I didn't think that justified
taking me to a vet.
I must have said that aloud because Mulder laughed at me. He said, "The dog,
stupid."
"Ludmilla is a girl," I replied with great dignity.
Scully looked and said, "I suppose she is. In any event, she's very thin. She
might have worms. Take her to the vet, Walter."
"What kind of dog is Ludmilla anyway?" Walter asked.
"A borzoi," I interjected. I had never seen a borzoi with one blue eye or that
color of coat, but if she was my dog, she was a borzoi.
Mulder said, "Australian Shepherd. I saw a movie once. Rodeo clown had them."
I wondered what she was doing in America if she was an Australian Shepherd.
Would she be happy if I didn't have sheep for her? I felt like crying for her.
She was just like me. A stranger everywhere...
Mulder and Walter must have discussed the plan, because Mulder said, "You really
think that Spender will come back after him?"
"I think Spender has been experimenting on him. He will probably be interested
in the results," Walter said.
"Keep sharp," Mulder said.
I hope he meant Walter because that was when I fuzzed off to sleep.
When I woke up, Walter was in bed on one side of me and Ludmilla was snuggled
close to my right side. One of Walter's hot hands rested under that long tee
shirt. It draped across my naked hip. When I moved, the grip tightened. I looked
at him and he was asleep, but still he held onto me.
Damn, he couldn't tell me that some part of him still loved me, but I got the
message anyway.
My body felt heavy and it ached all over. My left arm was killing me. I'd had
phantom pain before, but this was as bad as it had felt when I first woke up
after those idiots cut it off.
Tears filled my eyes. I cried silently. Spender had taught me not to make any
noise to disturb him before I was twelve. I still cried though, knowing it
didn't do any good. Ludmilla whined and licked at my face. I reached up to try
to rub above the scar. Sometimes that helps. The skin above the stump was
burning. I wondered if I had hurt it some how and reached down. The skin was
pulsing. My arm was longer...
Now, I yelled.
Walter rolled out of that bed as if it was on fire. Mulder came charging in with
his gun drawn. Both of them ended up staring at me as Ludmilla stood over me,
barking fiercely.
"Krycek, you asshole, what the hell is wrong with you, now?" Mulder demanded.
"My arm is growing," I said.
"What?" Walter asked. He pushed Ludmilla off me and grabbed my arm, staring at
the stump. He said, "It does look strange. There are tumors growing from it."
"I wonder if I should call Scully?" Mulder said. He touched the lumps as I
craned my head around to see.
I yelped. The skin was very tender and it ached terribly when he probed at the
lump.
Mulder remarked, "Scully said she would have my balls for breakfast if I
bothered her. She hasn't been the same since she had that baby. I think we
should just give him some pain medicine and see what's happening in the
morning."
Walter had continued to study whatever was happening under the hot skin that
covered the remainder of my arm. He said, "It's growing back."
I opened my mouth to argue, but the hope that flooded through me stopped my
speech.
"Whatever Spender did to you; you have the gift of healing. At least you can
heal yourself," Walter said. "You should be dead."
That cut deep. I said, "You can always try again, Walter."
His expression was fierce. He said, "Alex, I could have shot you before. You had
the palm pilot, but I could have shot you before the palm pilot was dialed high
enough to kill me. When you went after Mulder, that's when you crossed the final
line. What the hell was that about?"
Damned if I knew!
"Spender let me off the table and said that Mulder wasn't really cured. He said
he was one of them. I don't know if I believed him or not. I just wanted the
pain to stop," I said. "I don't know why Spender decided he wanted Mulder dead."
As I looked at Mulder, I felt sure that I wouldn't have done it. If I had meant
to shoot him, he would be dead before Walter ever showed on the scene. I
remember fighting the welter of thoughts in my fevered brain. I kept watching
Mulder for a sign that Spender was right. That the man was gone and only the
alien remained.
I told myself that Mulder wouldn't want to live if the core of him had been
lost, but the attitude, even the damn Inigo Montoya routine was the same. Yes,
it was the same myopic, obsessed, brilliant and brave asshole that I always
knew. So, I kept talking, talking as if I was waiting, praying someone would
stop me.
That was the reason that I said, "good shot" as Walter gave me what should have
been the coup de grace.
About at this point, I started to sweat. It would be just like Spender to play
such a joke on me. Tell me that Mulder was turned into an alien when it was me
that was transforming.
I guess I must have had hysterics at that point. I ended up held against
Walter's broad chest as I raved about needing to be burned in the hottest
furnace that he could find.
After that, there were tests. Lots of them. I was scared to death, but after my
arm grew back, that was it. My blood was still red. I had some oddities about my
chromosomes and in my blood chemistry, but I had no tendency to want to take
over the world. Hell, I had more ambitions in that vein before Spender decided I
was his personal lab rat.
Having two arms should have made me feel whole, but it didn't. I was lost. I
didn't know how to use two arms anymore. Walter kept reminded me to use that
left arm and insisted on a good physical therapist.
It played havoc with my balance and my coordination. I cursed that arm more
times than not. I'd be reaching to get something and the left arm would get in
the way of the right. I wished sometimes that I could strap it down and ignore
it.
Walter helped a lot. He was always a taskmaster and he made me work until I
could defend myself with two arms again. Although I still woke up feeling as if
something was wrong when I stretched and two arms rose, I stopped resenting the
miracle.
Ludmilla seemed to like me having two arms to hug her. I had never had a dog
before. I had never even thought about them. She was a lot of work. One chore
that I hated was cleaning up the yard after she shit.
I was watching TV one day and I saw this stupid pet trick thing about a cat
using the toilet. I thought that, as smart as Ludmilla was, I could teach her.
That dog didn't like standing on the toilet seat, but she did it for me, staring
at me with puzzled eyes. I couldn't get her to go even when I waited until she
was pacing in front of the door. It was driving me crazy but I knew she could do
it.
When Walter came home one day and saw me trying, I thought he'd die of laughter.
He bellowed, holding his sides, taking off his steamy glasses, and chuckled
until tears rolled down his face.
"I saw a video of a cat doing it!" I insisted. "If a cat can do it, a dog can.
Ludmilla is smarter than a cat!"
We argued about that for a week before he resorted to calling two dog trainers
and having them tell me it was unlikely that she would be comfortable enough
balancing on the rim to release her waste. They told me I could train her to go
in one spot in the yard so I was content with that.
I hate it when Walter is right even if it is frequent.
Sometimes, I was jealous of Ludmilla. Walter liked her a lot. He would come home
from work, kick back, and spend an hour, rubbing her tummy and stroking her
ears. I liked having my tummy rubbed too, not to mention other things, but
Walter was keeping his distance from me.
For a long time, every night, Walter's little house was set up as a trap for
Spender, but the old man didn't seem interested. I was bait, but there were no
nibbles. I suppose Spender could be playing a waiting game, but he must have
been very patient.
I stayed with Walter and with Ludmilla. I think Walter and I both pretended that
Spender was the reason. He said that he wanted me where he could keep an eye on
me. I would have preferred that he kept his hands on me, but after I healed,
Walter pulled his barriers back up. If I wanted affection, I had to be glad that
I had Ludmilla. Sometimes I thought that she was the reason that I was still
around. He had said she was mine and he was a man of his word, but he loved that
dog. I wondered if he kept me because otherwise he'd have to give me Ludmilla
when I left.
Walter liked me to stay in the guest room. We continued to call it that although
I didn't have any other place to go. Sometimes, I had bad nightmares and he
would let me creep into his bed, but if I tried to kiss him, he would put me at
arm's length.
"It's not that time, Alex. There are too many bad memories for me. I'm sorry,"
Walter would say.
"How can I make it better?" I asked him.
Walter shrugged and said, "I don't know. I still have feelings for you, Alex,
but you hurt so many people. I would feel guilty about loving you."
If it weren't true and fair, it wouldn't have hurt so much. I should have left,
but I couldn't feel safe any other place. I know that seems strange, given what
he had done, but I was only connected to a few people. Out of those people,
Marita was hidden deep so she wasn't an option. Mulder was busy with his new
life. That left Walter...
One day, Mulder walked in when Walter wasn't there and said, "Krycek, are you
ever going to stop freeloading?"
I went for his throat. We probably would have kept fighting until we could only
spit at each other except Walter interrupted us. Of course, Ludmilla bit Mulder
in the ass before Walter could stop her. Good thing he was wearing new denim
jeans. She barely broke the skin. He wasn't even mad at her. He just said that
she should have better taste about whom she picked as a master.
At that point, Mulder told me what he had in mind. He wanted us to work together
to find and bring down the aliens and the consortium. He had gotten an ear high
up in the government. As high up as the president. All that was needed was to
weed out the plants inside the FBI and CIA so we could work.
I said that I would. I identified the ones I knew. Some of those guys talked
under the ruthless measures that Mulder's organization was willing to use. We
weeded them all out. Every mole from the corrupt AD's to the lowest cafeteria
workers.
The next step was Scully's brainchild. She had been thinking about the way that
the consortium had classified and typed the people it wanted to target. What if
the smallpox shots had more than one purpose?
What if smallpox was fatal to the aliens?
The pathologists didn't want to wipe out every person on Earth that wasn't
naturally immune or vaccinated so they developed a mutated form of Small Pox
that didn't make humans ill. They had to capture an alien to test the strain to
see if it still affected them.
Mulder and I managed that trick. I had no sympathy for the one that we plunked
in the biohazard drum to bring to the Center for Disease Control's secret
laboratory. It wanted to subjugate humanity. Well, fuck that, other opinions
aside, I was human too.
The Grey died quickly. We had our weapon.
The scientists wondered what the disease would do to someone modified to have
alien genes. Mulder and I were the guinea pigs. Walter held both of our hands
when they gave us the shots. He had argued himself blind, but we had to know.
We had our answer. It wasn't the one that we hoped to hear. Hey, not that I
wanted to be a martyr, but it would have been nice to know it was all over. The
smallpox modification didn't kill hybrids although both Mulder and I were sick
for a long time.
After that, we released the virus.
Scully was frightened, but William didn't become ill. I was wrong about him
being the perfect hybrid.
However, with the hybrids running high fevers and incapacitated, it was the best
time to strike at the Consortium.
Mulder and I were in the group that stormed the last enclave of the Consortium.
Spender wasn't there, but the complete records were intact. We got to the
computer before anyone pulled the plug.
The researchers had a good time with the information stored on that computer. A
lot of it even I hadn't known. I didn't want to know most of it. The experiments
were gruesome beyond belief.
Mulder called me into the room at headquarters. I had stopped flinching every
time he yelled. I think the man liked me. He was riding high and his happiness
seemed to include even his former whipping boy. Finding out that I really hadn't
killed dear old dad had helped.
When Mulder grinned at me, I thought about hiding under the table.
"Sit down," he said.
I sat and he turned on the VCR. I watched as he fast-forwarded through tapes of
the experiments on me.
I had to make him stop once to be sick.
Mulder didn't laugh. In fact, he held my head, rubbed my back, and gave me a
glass of water. Somewhere along the way, I had become his partner all over again
for the first time. He cared about me.
Walter showed up as Mulder was asking me if I could stomach the rest.
Wanting to know, I said, "yes".
Strong arms surrounded me as I gritted my teeth through the endless tests that
consisted of my body being hurt and healing. No wonder I had forgotten what they
did. It was more than anybody should have endured.
The final straw was realizing that Walter's actions were the intention of that
final scene. Spender knew I would balk. He knew that, between the pain that I
had caused Walter and the threat to Mulder, my former lover would shoot me. He
choreographed entire episode and taped it to enjoy.
When it appeared that I could survive even two potentially fatal injuries,
Spender couldn't wait any longer to try the gene therapy that he had derived
from the sub-species of aliens that we called the healers.
It was not enough that the creatures had saved his life. Spender wanted to have
the power within him. He chose me to be altered as an irony or because he always
enjoyed hurting me. When it appeared to be successful, he put himself through
the painful process.
One moment he was gloating about the potential for eternal life and the next, he
was screaming in horror as his body melted into green goo.
Spender miscalculated. He had tried his trick with one of the few people who had
ever lived after carrying an alien rider in his body. A human body isn't
entirely comfortable to them unless it is modified. My rider had subtly altered
my blood chemistry down to the genetic level. When the gene therapy changed me,
it had a favorable climate to make its alterations. Spender had never been
ridden. The gene therapy ran rampant, trying to alter a normal human body.
Failing that, it turned on Spender's body and ate him alive as if the entire
body was a huge cancer invaded cell.
I watched as the observers dumped Spender into the biohazard furnace and turned
Smoky into smoke.
It was over. Spender was dead. That was why he never came for me.
I expected Walter to ask me to leave after that. In my bed, I would dream about
him in the next room, as I silently stroked my cock, pretending it was Walter
touching me. I smothered my cries as I came and swallowed the hopeless tears
afterwards.
Then I would let Ludmilla back into my room if she had not already gone to sleep
in Walter's bed. The dog could sleep in his bed any time that she wanted. It was
a good thing I loved that silly girl. Otherwise, I would be jealous.
Why didn't I leave?
Because I loved the son of a bitch. The longer I stayed, the more impossible
life became without him.
Mulder gave me a job so I could support myself. Even after I received my first
paycheck, Walter wouldn't let me pay him rent. I could buy food and luxuries but
he wouldn't accept my money.
I suppose we would have lived like that forever. Just two guys with a dog and
one man sick with love over the other.
Something happened. Mulder and I had been on a case, an X-File, just like the
good old days, but as far as we could tell, it wasn't connected to the
conspiracy. Just like the old days too, he was always on the phone with Scully.
This time when he called her, Scully was screaming so loud that I could hear her
although it wasn't a speakerphone.
"William has leukemia!" Scully screamed.
Wow, I knew the kid had the flu or something. Scully said that she wasn't going
to leave him to help us out.
William was a cute kid. I liked him a lot. He was like Mulder without the scar
tissue. I knew it drove Scully crazy that her kid adored me. He had grown into
the cutest little curly top that you ever saw. William has red hair, Mulder's
nose, and a round chubby face with dimples. He could have made a mint
advertising baby food.
Ludmilla was the key to William's adoration. He loved my dog. Scully wouldn't
get him one, saying he wasn't old enough, but I brought Ludmilla over to see him
all of the time. She would fetch a ball for him until they were both exhausted.
She would dance in a circle on her hind legs and roll over for him. She even let
me put costumes on her so she could be Blue's Clues.
Mulder and I went straight to the hospital. He and Scully hugged each other as I
helplessly stared at my little buddy.
Damn, all that medical knowledge and nothing worked.
They even tried marrow transplants from Mulder who was the perfect match. That
briefly helped, but soon that evil disease consumed the healthy marrow and he
was sick again.
William cried so hard when he had to go to the hospital again that I wanted to
cry with him.
The toddler was dying.
The doctors stopped talking about new cures and asked Scully to sign a "do not
resuscitate order'.
Scully slapped the doctor. I thought she was right on. I wasn't ready to let go.
As I visited with the child, Walter and Mulder took Scully to the chapel.
William was supposed to be stable enough that they could leave the room.
It was an honor to have them trust me like that. I sat holding his hand as I
wore the glove and masks.
"Where is the doggy?" William asked. For a three-year-old, William could talk
like a kindergartener. He never baby-talked. His first word was clear and he
spoke in three and four word sentences before he was two. He was as intelligent
as his parents.
"Home," I said. "You can see her when you get well."
"Not going home," William said. "the nurse said."
William looked scared. He was too little to understand dying, but he understood
not going home.
"Please, Uncle Alex. I want to go home," William fretted.
I was holding his hand in my left hand as his eyes rolled back. I froze there as
people started to run into the room.
Someone said that the kid was dying. Scully was cussing them. Mulder was
threatening them. Walter was roaring as they tried to clear us out of the room.
"Please, God," I said. If within me were the genes of the healers, let me heal!
I fought my way through the medical personnel and grabbed that small hand. I
poured my will to live into that touch.
Mulder ordered everyone to let me go. Somehow, brilliant, intuitive Mulder knew
what I was trying to do.
If anyone wanted to question this, Walter wouldn't let them. He held his gun on
them and ordered them out. It was just us after that and I wasn't even conscious
of anyone but William and me.
The heat moved along my arm and into William. I felt something leaving me and
going into him. That wasn't the hard part. The difficult thing was to take his
pain and sickness into me.
I knew I had to get it all. I used my will and my hunter's instincts to seek and
destroy every mutated cell. I could see the things in my mind like puzzle
pieces. I took out the changes and made sure that the genetic mistake couldn't
happen again.
Fainting, I remember trying one last surge of the power inside me. I didn't hold
back. For once in my life, I wasn't going to qualify the right thing. I was
willing to die to save William.
When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. Walter was holding my hand. I felt as
if it had been a dream, but I hoped it was true.
"William?" I asked.
"He's fine. He's cured. There's no trace of cancer, Alex," Walter said.
There were tears running down his face. He suddenly grabbed me out of bed and
hugged me so hard that the oxygen tube was pulled out of my nose.
"We almost lost you. Your heart stopped. It took fibrillation to bring you
back,' Walter said. "Did you know that was happening?"
Too caught up in the wonder, I only smiled at him and said, "It was worth it. Is
William okay? Will the cancer come back?"
"It's as if he never had it. He's eating like a small pony and demanding to go
and play with Ludmilla," Walter said.
"Me too, I want to go home to..." I stopped myself.
"That isn't your room anymore," Walter said.
Damn, I knew it was going to happen. He was kicking me out. He probably thought
that I should have tried to cure William earlier.
It wasn't my fault. The idea came out of desperation. It hadn't been logic. It
had been instinct.
"What about Ludmilla?" I asked.
"She can sleep outside the door when we make love," Walter said.
"What?" I said, stupidly.
"Unless you don't want me anymore?" Walter said. "I was just too proud to ask
you after I kept telling you, 'no'. I almost lost you and I realized that
there's no reason for us not to forgive each other. Alex, I'm sorry for
everything I've ever done to you and I forgive you for everything you've ever
done to me."
Words failed me again. I could only kiss his hands until he brought my face up
to take my lips.
I think we almost did it there on the bed, but the nurse ran into the room and
put a stop to that.
William and I went home the same day from the hospital. The government kept a
cork on what happened. They didn't want to start either a panic or a riot.
William's recovery became another unexplained X-File.
When we parked in the driveway and walked through the gate, Walter picked me up.
He staggered under the weight, but he was stubborn. He was going to carry me
over the threshold and I was going to let him.
Ludmilla didn't help. She kept running around and barking at us both. She must
have thought this was a fun new game. I insisted on petting her and hugging her
before anything else happened. She was my first real friend in this new life and
I wasn't going to do her wrong even to make love to Walter.
After she was settled with a new chew toy in her crate, Walter lifted me again
and plunked me on the bed. He stood in front of me and undressed. The man didn't
put any flourishes into it, but it was still the sexiest thing I ever saw. When
he was naked, he started with my shoes and my socks, kissing my toes, the top of
my feet before moving to my shirt.
I felt his tongue trace the faint scars where my new arm joined the old
remainder. I shivered as he moved on to latch onto my nipples, laving them with
a greedy tongue, sucking on them, and nipping me lightly until I squirmed and
groaned.
Working his way down, he kissed his way to my stomach, stopping to thrust his
tongue into my navel. He kissed the hollows of my pelvis as he peeled off my
pants and underwear.
When Walter's mouth captured my cock, I moaned helplessly and thrust up into his
mouth. His hand fondled my balls in their sac. I had found out when we together
that Walter didn't like his sac to be mouthed. He said he was always too
sensitive there to be handled when he was erect, but I loved it, which surprised
him back when we were lovers. I was thrilled that he remembered. He took most of
my sac into his hot mouth as his fingers stroked my cock.
At that point, I had to stop him.
"I want you in me," I demanded. "Don't make me come before that."
Walter laughed and said, "You always managed to come more than once in the
past."
"I'm older," I admitted. I could see I wasn't in his eyes. I never wanted to be
beautiful until I saw the way Walter looked at me. He made me feel as if I was
the most special creature he had ever seen.
His tongue probed my opening as his finger worked me from the outside. He had to
put some pressure on me once or twice or I would have lost it right there. My
body felt as if it was on fire for him. I wanted him so badly that I was sobbing
incoherently. Finally, he fitted himself to me as if I was a glove that was made
for him.
Every move he made ignited me farther. I had never felt like this before. I was
weeping and trying to tell him how much I loved him at the same time. His
breaths were quickening. His face was far away, as he thrust between my legs. He
might have been in some other world, but suddenly he smiled and kissed me hard,
our bodies strained by the position.
Funny, but that was what finished me. I came with a shout of joy.
Walter's body lost its steady pace as he pounded into me fast and furious before
he thrust deep and his entire body went rigid. I watched his face as he came and
his eyes found mine even in this moment of intense pleasure.
"I love you," he said as he relaxed and withdrew.
We straightened the bed a few moments later and lay kissing each other.
That's when Ludmilla found out she could open her crate if she nudged the latch
just right with her nose. She yipped with glee as she leapt on both of us and
licked our faces.
So much for the afterglow...
It didn't matter. Nothing could have spoiled that.
Walter kissed Ludmilla on the head and said, "I figured, if an abused dog had
more mercy for you than I did, that I had better change. I think I owe this girl
my sanity and my soul. You're my life, Alex."
I looked at him and he meant it.
Wow.
I realized I had a home, a lover, even a dog...
I was no longer the hunted. No longer the hunter. I was home from the hill and I
would never be alone again.
ain was first, distant throbbing pain in my head and a fresh agony in both of
my arms, even the one that was missing. I wanted to cry out but for some reason,
I was locked inside my body.
