Work Text:
Nice "Ratboy" Fanfic
by Fallen Angel
"Alex Krycek, you've been a bit evil."
Like I don't know. Uh huh. Evil isn't really the word. I'm not evil, at least I don't think I'm evil. Evil takes intention, deliberate thought, not just the following of orders. I guess selling my soul to the devil in order to get out of the silo wasn't the greatest idea. Also the fact the devil looks exactly like Cancer Man, as Mulder calls him, doesn't help. It's highly unnerving.
"So? What have you got in store for me?"
He smiles, taking another cigarette from the pack and lighting it.
I instinctively reach up to smooth my hair back, hoping to protect it from stray sparks. One little piece of fire added to my hair gel, and WHOOSH! Bye bye, Alex.
"A bit of creative retaliation. You're a bit faithless, aren't you, Alex."
I shrug, not showing him my hand. Faithless, my ass. I show perfect faith to myself. Just double cross about everyone else.
"You know what animal you're likened to?"
I shrug again, but I know perfectly well what he's driving at, and the thought scares me immensely.
"A rat, Alex. A double crossing rat."
I cross my hands across my chest - the only advantage I can see to being in hell is having my left arm back - and strike a defensive pose.
"Uh huh. You're so scary."
He seemed unmoved by my cool show of sarcasm. Personally I was rather proud of it.
"What was your academy nickname, Agent Krycek?"
I freeze, suddenly unwilling to answer. I quickly replace my shocked expression with my usual mask of non-emotion.
"I'll answer that for you, since you've lost the capability of speech apparently. Ratboy, Alex. Alex 'Ratboy' Krycek."
I shake my head, eyes desperately searching his for an explanation. *This is completely unfair!* my mind screamed. *Geez, I'm gonna kill whoever gave me that nickname!*
"Well, Ratboy, one advice in life: avoid Mulder's mousetraps. Hang on, two things - if someone can love you as the rat you really are, you become the familiar rat you're used to being."
"WHAT?!"
Last thing, I see him advancing towards me with a suspiciously familiar red-hot knife.