Title: Beyond Hope (Burnt out)

By PEJA

Fandom: X-Files/Once A Thief/

Pairing: Alex Krycek/ Fox Mulder Mac Ramsey/Victor Mansfield Vic/Alex (Cory Raines)

Rating: PG

Feedback: its the only coin I’m paid for this sort of thing in, so.....

Email: daltonavon@yahoo.com or peja@codenet.net

Archive: The WWOMB

URL: http://www.squidge.org/~peja 

BEYOND HOPE
By PEJA

Cocooned in the black velvet darkness of his car, Mulder nibbled on a handful of sunflower seeds and stared, unblinking, at the building across the street. His eyes drifted to the note he’d found in his in-box this morning, checking the address against the building for the hundredth time. It hadn’t changed while he sat there and yea, it matched so he hadn’t made a wrong turn. This run-down sleazy "Bates" Motel kind of house was where he was supposed to be.

"Face it, Spooky," he chided himself.  "This has got to be some kind of practical joke." Squinting against the darkness, he re-read the scrawled words that had brought him to this run-down section of town with the promise of capturing his most desired quarry. The note had said prey, but his civilized mind wouldn’t let him consider another man prey. 

His soft chuckle rumbled in the darkness. Of course there had been one man he’d consider prey, but that was before Skinner had put three bullets in him and left him dead, lying in a pool of his own blood in that dirty underground parking lot. 

Before he’d turned away from his greatest enemy without a backward glance.

Before he’d torn out his heart and walked away from his greatest secret love.

A noise at the end of the block drew his attention.

Squinting against the smothering darkness, he sought and found the source of the noise....Just another drunk. 

His glance slid away from the bedraggled character, back toward his targeted area of surveillance.

The trench-coated man, seemed on a lead that had him staggering towards the ram-shackle house Mulder had been waching most of the evening.. 

Mulder gave the drunk a harder once over, but couldn't find anything out of the obvious. Only one that creature would be a danger to was himself.

Sighing, Mulder turned the key enough to get the battery motivated and clicked the radio on at a low volume. Just the hint of sound to break the silence of waiting.

Another  darting, cautious glance placed the drunk at the door, leaning his shoulder against the door. 

As  Mulder watched, the man fumbled to get it open without dropping the bottle he had tucked under the rigid second arm.

The door suddenly swung open from the inside and the drunk stumbled, falling inside, only to be caught up in a strong pair of  arms. 

Mulder was suddenly swallowed up by the vision of a matronly, curler-wearing, rolling pin welding woman dancing in his head. Chuckling darkly he murmured, "You’re busted, fella." 

"Alexi, where the hell have you been?" 

The question floated on the late night air to Mulder from a masculine voice. 

Alexi? 

An impossible suspicion  prickled up and down his spine and he squinted against the darkness, trying to get a better look at the staggering man. 

The man in question shoved away from the other man’s supporting embrace, growling, "Lea’ ma ‘lone," 

The slurred voice was strikingly familiar, yet disconcertingly different. 

No. Not possible. Spooky, do not go there.

"Lexi, let me help you."

 "G’way," the man....Lexi...barreled at him awkwardly, shouldering him out the still open door. His clawed hand hit the door, slamming it in the other man’s face. 

"Damn," Mulder spoke aloud. "No, but damn, that voice....

"Dammit, Lexi. Let me in the damn house. What are you trying to do?"

"Doo....Doo....Don’ nee no damb babe....si...si....sit...ter" the drunk’s voice stuttered through the door and floated to Mulder. "g’wa’ an lea me lone."

It isn’t him. It isn’t him, became a silent mantra beating against his skull as Mulder slipped silently from his car and began his descent into a familiar nightmare.

"Now you know I can’t do that, Alexi," the other man’s voice returned, drawing Mulder across the street like some mythical siren. "Mac isn’t gonna be nice when he gets back and  finds me on this side of the door. Let me in, Lexi."

"Ma-n’s ga—ga-gatta do..." the drunk’s voice floated away on shuffling feet. "Na....na...no  good in li-li-life like thi-thi-this." 

"Jesus," the man said, raking through his golden hair. "Alexi....babe....baby, don’t you dare do something stupid again. You know it wouldn’t do you any good." He threw his shoulder against the door, trying to batter his way into the house, only to rebound backwards into Mulder’s waiting arms.

"Sorry, I..." The man turned to face Mulder. 

"Fuck," Mulder said, going for his gun as the streetlight revealed Alex Krycek’s open, smiling features. "How the fuck...Krycek..."

"Hey hey hey, put up the gun, quick trigger." Krycek advised, raising his hands before him. "You’ve got the wrong guy, mister." Krycek offered a reassuring smile. "Name’s Vic Mansfield." 

Shifting on the balls of his feet, Mulder stared at the offered hand as if it were a snake ready to strike. 

"I’m not who you think I am, guy," Mansfield said softly, waggling the fingers on both his hands. "Both are in working order, see?"

A look of confusion flickered over Mulder’s lean features. "You.....know about Krycek?" The gun inched lower. "He really is dead, then. I thought...." He shook his head, shoulders slumping. "Doesn’t matter. Sorry..." He made a slight motioning wave with his gun hand. "..About the gun, I mean."

Gifting Mulder with a lop-sided grin, Mansfield murmured, "This Krycek? He gets under your skin, doesn’t he?"

Mulder cast him a jaundiced eye. "He’s dead." 

"Sure of that, are you?"

Mulder tilted his head thoughtfully. "Isn’t he?"

Shrugging, Mansfield rifled through his pockets, coming up empty, and turned back to the locked door. "I have to get inside. Witness protection and all that," He tossed a grin over his shoulder. "Damn hard to protect a man from himself, though. Bastard’s got a death wish that could encompass the entire U.S of A." He slammed his fist against the door, rattling it on its hinges. "Dammit, Alexi, open the fucking door. Don’t want a repeat of the last time, do ya?"

"Do you, Mansfield?" An amused voice murmured in the darkness.

Vic and Mulder spun around to watch the tall young man emerge from the shadows. 

"Mac..." Vic said, a warm smile curving his lips.

The man strolled the distance between them, grinning a half grin. "He got your key again?"

Vic shrugged. "He’s cunning. More dangerous than he looks."

Mac leaned in and brushed a kiss over the other man’s lips. "S’okay sweetheart. That’s why I carry a spare." He turned away from the other man and made quick work of the locks, swinging the door open into a pitch black hallway. "He’s drinking?"

"Always," Vic confirmed. "Slipped past me and got his hands on another bottle. Fool is gonna bring the bad guys down on all or heads dodging us like he does."

Slapping the light switch on, Mac headed down the hallway, and into the kitchen. The man in question was sitting at the table in the dark. As they watched he tipped the bottle to his lips, drinking deeply of the vodka.

"Lexi. Lexi. Lexi, you’re getting sloppy, man." Mac said softly.

The bottle trembled slightly before the man set it down on the table. "Don’ matter, doesh i’?" he slurred. "Can’ die, can I? Can’ make i’ sta...sta...stop."

He shuffled around then, to face them, and the bottle slipped from suddenly shell-shocked fingers as his blurred gaze fell on Mulder. 

Mulder returned the stunned stare for a long moment, then with great control unholstered his gun and fired point blank, emptying his gun into Krycek’s chest. 

Blood spurted from the wounds, splattering Mulder’s suitcoat and pants. 

Krycek’s stunned gaze managed to catch Mulder’s in that last breath and he grinned as his eyes clouded with death and his body slumped in the chair, tottered for a heartbeat then crashed to the floor.

Awed by what he’d done, Mulder gaped at the death he’d caused, the gun hanging, forgotten from numb fingers.

Vic leaned down and pried the gun away, tucking it into his waistband. Mac sauntered across the room and toed Krycek onto his back. "Neat fire pattern." He arched a brow at Vic. "Isn’t that a neat fire pattern, Vic?"

Vic tilted his head, studying the wound pattern with interest. "Perfect." He agreed, hunkering down to press his fingers against Krycek’s jugular. "Dead as dead can be." He checked his watch. "We’re on the clock, Mac." 

Mac nodded. "Better get him up to bed. Make him comfortable."

"Are you insane?" Mulder demanded, finally managing to shake himself from the stupor of disbelieve that had encompassed his mind. "Krycek..." he waved his hand in the direction of the dead man. "He’s dead. We have to call the police. Have his body picked up...."

Vic shoved to his feet. "Why?"

"I....I killed this man."

"Did you?" He studied the corpse with a jaundiced eye. "Well, I suppose technically you did at that."

"The police...." Mulder tried again, wondering if he’d fallen through Alice’s magical mirror. 

"Nah, no need bothering them." Mac leaned down, getting a solid grasp on the body’s upper arms. "That would be....messy."

Vic sidled up to Mulder, handing him a small leather case. "Bring that along, will you?" He bent, getting a firm hold on Krycek’s legs and together the men hefted up the body and moved toward another room.

Feeling as if his mind was slipping away, Mulder tagged along behind.

"Toss that rubber sheet on the bed, will ya, Mulder?" Vic said, nodding toward the sheet on the dresser. 

Shaking his head, Mulder laid the leather case on the bedside table and grabbed up the folded sheet, flipping it out over the bed. He stood back, his hands burrowing deep in his pockets.

The two men heaved Krycek’s body onto the bed and Vic retrieved the case from where Mulder had laid it while Mac quickly stripped away Krycek’s shirt. "Damn, he’s bleeding harder. Are you timing this, Vic?"

"You’ve got time," Vic said softly, brushing the golden brown hair back from Krycek’s pallid face. "Just get on with it. It’s creepy looking at me lying dead there like that."

"Dead men don’t bleed." Mulder whispered, shaking his head. "Not like that."

"No," Vic agreed. "They don’t. Hurry up, Mac." 

Mac flipped out the rolled case and selected a lethal looking scalpel. "Let me get that lead out of him." He tossed his partner a grim look. "Climb up here and hold him down just in case."

Vic climbed up on the bed, straddling the dead man’s legs as Mac made the first deep cut into the nastiest looking chest wound, digging out the bullet with a ghoulish calm. A rush of blood flowed out of the deep slashing wound.

"Jesus," Mulder rasped. "What the hell do you think you’re doing? That man isn’t dead..."

"Sure he is, Mulder," Mac assured him. You put five shots directly into his heart. He’s good and dead." He grinned, patting Mulder’s arm. "Don’t worry about it. He’ll be better soon."

"Better...?" Mulder slumped down into a nearby chair, his horror stricken gaze following the flash and slash of the tiny blade as each of the bullets was probed for and cut out of the blood glistening flesh. 

As the last bullet hit the metal spit tray, Mac’s fingers painted a bloody, glistening pattern on the dead man’s forehead.

"What are you doing, Mac?" Vic demanded, his eyes, so very like another brilliant green gaze swirling in shadows of concern. 

"I’m going in for it." 

"Orders are we leave it."

"As long as he was alive....But he’s clinically dead, isn’t he, Vic? Its not like my cutting that bullet out is gonna kill him, is it? Ah, there’s the scar." His blade flashed again, slicing deep between Krycek’s eyes and probing. Seconds later he dug out yet another bullet, stringing sickeningly of gray brain matter. "Got the damn thing." He said holding the grisly trophy up for everyone to see.

"So now what," Vic asked weakly. "Are you going to punish him like last time?"

"Yes." Mac grinned nastily. "Strip him down and secure him, ass up." Mac said, climbing off the man and the bed. "You. Mulder, is it? Park it in that chair over in the corner. And keep your mouth shut. I don’t want Alexi seeing you before time." He headed for the door. "I’m gonna wash up....Smelly work, that." He paused, turning back into the room at the doorway. "Vic, just so you know, with the bullet out of his brain he might make some positive progress. Secure that bad arm good and tight, just like the good one. No telling how this is gonna go now I’ve taken out the neural blockage." He turned away and disappeared down the hall.

"He’s twisted." Mulder murmured softly from the dark corner. "Mutilating a dead body like that. Talking like Krycek is suddenly gonna open his eyes and smirk at us all for the cruel trick he played out here. Twisted."

Vic shrugged, tugging Krycek out of the rest of his clothes and rolling him over in such a way that Mulder was obscured by darkness but could still mourn the passing of such a beautiful man with his gaze. Vic, threw Mulder a whimsical smile. "Hard not to admire his beauty, isn’t it?" He didn’t wait for an answer, instead bending to secure Alex like his partner had ordered. He checked his watch several times during the exercise then finally satisfied, he stepped away from the bed and counted aloud down from ten.

The first sharp rattling breath from the bed jerked Mulder’s downcast eyes up. The enraged jerking of a dead body suddenly risen from death had Mulder’s jaw hitting his chest. The despairing cry of one dead and cast out of heaven stole his voice and his ability to do anything but stare in stunned shock.

Vic hunkered down near Krycek’s head and stroked the suddenly sweat dampened hair. "Hush, Alexi. You’re safe now. Hush." He smiled softly. "Are you thinking clearly now."

A short bitter laugh sounded from the reanimated corpse. "Define..... clearly." Krycek’s head shifted until green met green and hidden in the shadows, Mulder could see the tears slip from flat, listless eyes. "I don’t want this, Vic."

"I know, baby. I know." A soft smile curved Vic’s lips. "You’re sober?"

Grimacing, Krycek moved his head in a single curt nod. "Temporarily." He closed his eyes wearily. "Head hurts. Light....too bright."

Smiling apologetically, Vic turned down the bedside lamp. "Mac removed the bullet, Alexi."

Alex’ brilliant eyes snapped open, making him wince against the dim light. "Wh...Why?"

"I would have thought that would be obvious." Mac’s voice floated into the room from the doorway. "You've lost the stutter, Alexi. So we're seeing an improved healing already. The director will be pleased."

Mulder managed to draw his eyes away from the unbelievable scene being played out on the bed to track over the man standing bare-chested in the open doorway, a basin of steaming water in his hands. A towel swung from his arm as he crossed the room. A crook handled bottle of shower gel dangled from his belt loop, slapping against his thigh as he walked.

He set the bathing implements down on the nightstand. "Let’s get him cleaned up." Dunking a sponge into the water, he handed it to Vic. "Do his face, babe. I can’t deal with...." He shuddered as his glance ate up Vic’s soothing features. "Gawddammit, Vic. This has got to stop. Every time....It’s like seeing you like..." He shuddered again, turning away to plunge a second sponge into the water and suds it up before he ran it over Krycek’s torso.

Vic didn’t speak, although there were volumes in the depths of his eyes as he cradled Krycek’s chin in his palm and cleaned the dried blood from his face.

The bathing was done quickly, leaving nothing overlooked, with the ease of practice and before Mulder could believe it they had striped the rubber sheet from under Krycek and laid up clean linens.

Krycek lie unresponsive during the process, his eyes closed as if to block out what was being done to him.

"All better, Alexi," Mac sighed, ruffling the bound man’s hair affectionately before he gathered the bathing mess and straightened up with stony expression back in place. "Vic," Balancing the basin on his hip, he dug into his pocket, drawing a blindfold out. "Blind him."

"No..." Krycek’s eyes shot open, zoning on the blindfold. 

Even in the dimly lit room, Mulder could see the color flush out of Krycek as the words struck home.

"No." His entire body trembled violently and he bucked against the restraints. "Don’t. Please. Not the black. Anything but the....black..."

A pleading glance passed between Vic and his partner. "Mac?"

Mac stared at the panicking man and shook his head. "He’s left us with no choice. ...Again." A broken sigh parted his own pale lips. "Do it." 

Swallowing down any words he might have said in protest, Vic tied the binds around Alex’ eyes, blotting out what light there had been. 

A low guttural sound broke from Alex and grew until it revibrated off the walls. The bound man wrestled violently in his bindings, babbling, pleading, screaming. Tears bathed his face anew as his panic filled the room.

"Mac?" Vic said again, tears in his own voice.

His saddened glance traveled over the bound Krycek, then back to Vic and nodded. "Comfort him." 

"You’re....sure?" Vic asked, his green gaze darkening with restrained emotion. "In any way he needs?"

Mac breathed a rueful chuckle. "You’re a real slut, babe." Shaking his head, he headed for the door. Hand on the knob, he threw over his shoulder, "But the blindfold stays."

His startling gaze dropped like a heavy hand on Mulder and he curled the fingers of one hand in a come along gester. Mulder shook his head stubbornly, cutting a quick glance toward the identical men at the bed. Mac sighed, nodding and touched his finger to his lips, reinforcing his instructions to be quiet, then slipped out into the hall, drawing the door shut behind him.

Giving Mulder a saucy grin, Vic climbed up beside Krycek on the bed. "Come here, sweetie," he murmured, curling his arm protectively around the visibly terrified man. 

Alex cringed away from the embrace, his head moving jerkily as if to hear approaching danger. 

Vic pressed his embrace, smoothing circles over Alex’s trembling back. "Shush, Lexi. Shhhhh. I won’t leave you, sweetheart. You’re not be alone."

Krycek whimpered softly, babbling nonsense about the black and cringing away from the patient caresses. 

Vic wouldn’t be put off. He murmured calming words of safety, assuring Krycek time and again that there was no danfer. The black couldn’t reach him. His hands roamed over the trembling man in gentle caresses. Each time Krycek skittered away from his touch, Vic would pursue and resume the gentle stroking and caressing until Krycek began to calm under his determination and his protesting whimpers turned into ragged sniffles and gasps, like a child who had cried itself out. 

"Better?" Vic asked, dropping tiny nibbling kisses on the bound man’s back and upper arm. 

Krycek’s nod would have been missed if Mulder hadn’t been watching for it. 

"Want to talk about it?"

Krycek didn’t respond.

"You know," Vic nuzzled Krycek’s ear, his tongue snaking out to curl around the lobe playfully. "It tears Mac’s heart out to do this to you."

Krycek buried his face in the pillow.

"It’s true, Lexi." Vic probed the hidden treasures of Krycek’s ear, making the bound man squirm and sigh his defeat.

"I...know." His voice was hollow and lifeless.

"The black oil can’t harm you here, Lexi." 

"If you say so." Came the resigned response.

Vic leaned up to nibble on one tight muscled shoulder. "You’re tense enough to snap, sweetheart." He jostled the bed, moving to get up.

"Don’t...."Krycek cried out.

"What?" Vic settled back down beside him and stroked his cheek. "Don’t what?"

A shudder rippled Krycek’s frame. "Don’t leave." He rasped, so soft Mulder had to strain to hear. 

"Ah, sweetheart, I’m not leaving. Just want to get some lotion and smooth out some of those kinks for ya. Would you like that, Lexi?"

"Don’t...leave..."

Sighing, Vic nodded. "All right, babe, I won’t leave. Promise. But I do want to help ya out so I’m gonna climb over you to get the lotion, okay. Easy, love. No one’s gonna hurt ya." He said, straddling the cringing man, leaning low over him to open the bedside table drawer.