Disclaimer: All X-Files belong to Chris Carter, 1013, and FBN.
story copyright by Jen Collins September, 1997

Warning/Summary: This is MulderTorture. Rated R for content:
One M/M kiss, some violence and gratuitous use of the "F" word.
All Muldertorture relegated to references to Lesser Evil I (sorry);
but I did throw in a little Krycektorture (the devil made me do it).
Tune into Lesser Evil III, Return of the Rat, for a serious and
demented return to Muldertorure. Comments to morganablack@mindspring.com

Lesser Evil II, The Moose Strikes Back

by Jem

Special Agent Fox Mulder sat in grey boxers, his sleeppuffed eyes not
blinking at the file attachment loading up on the screen of his PC.
The top half of the picture was finished and his hard drive whirled,
working to send up the rest. Not that the rest was needed. Despite
the disfiguring bruise and swollen eye on the left side of the man's
face, there was no mistaking the identity of the person in the
picture. Comrade Krycek.

Fingers unconsciously traced a long, twisted purple scar from his
wrist up his elbow then up to his shoulder, and back again to his
wrist. One of many, many such scars on his body. When Scully and
Skinner found him, freshly tortured and raped, 'thank you very much,
Krycek', they'd taken him straight to the Emergency Room. And while
intellectually he knew the people wearing scrubs at the hospital were
only trying to help him, he cried and fought and eventually had to be
sedated as Skinner held him down and Scully murmured comforting
nothings into his ear.

The Krycek in the picture looked bad.

He appeared to be tied to something, a chair perhaps, his hands
restrained behind his back. His head sagged limp on his chest as if
infinitely tired. The darkness around his nose and mouth area was
most likely blood. The eye that remained open looked hollow and
distant. This person was not the cocky, arrogant asshole Mulder knew.

Along with every file attachment comes a file. Mulder opened it and
read the first sentence:

 We have your lover.

"He's not my lover." Mulder quickly told the screen.

At midnight, tonight, you will be on level 3 of the parking garage.
You will be alone and unarmed.

"Oh, come ON..." Mulder sneered at the monitor. "Do you really
think I'm *that* stupid?" He hit the off button of his PC with a
quick angry jab of his finger. Swiveled his chair around, put his
elbows to knees and his forehead in his palms, rocking gently. "He's
not my lover." the agent whispered, "He fucking raped me. He
fucking raped me. He fucking raped me." Then he shot up out of his
chair to go get dressed.

*****

Krycek dangled his head, watched the pretty crimson drops form
patterns on the front of his t-shirt. Was startled by a click and a
flash. This was different enough from the other things that had been
happening to him over the past twelve hours that he gathered the
energy to look up.

One of the MIB who had been beating him had just taken a Polaroid.
The other two stood around him, watching the green square develop.
"Hey..." Krycek wheezed, "I didn't get to say cheese." Wrong thing
to say. What was new? These guys just didn't like him. The one
holding the Polaroid shoved it distractedly into the hands of one of
his collegues as he approached and slammed his fist into Krycek's
nose. The world greyed out.

When he came back, he was surrounded by his new friends. They stood
in a tight semi-circle around him.

"We sent a picture of you to your lover."

"Pardon? Who might that be?" Krycek's contempteous tone belied the
politeness of his words.

"Special Agent Fox Mulder."

Krycek laughed. Which didn't win points with his new friends, but he
couldn't help it. "Okay," he choked out between snickers, "I give.

Why?"

"He'll come for you."

Krycek summoned an expression of mocking amazement. "Fox Mulder
would just as soon see me dead. Why don't you just kill me now and
save us all a lot of time."

The leader cracked a quick backhanded fist across Krycek's cheek.
His head jerked sideways with the blow. "Oh, we can't do that." the
leader taunted, watching the Russian turn slowly back to face him.
"Mulder isn't the only party interested in you." HIs tormentor
walked around the chair behind him. Krycek felt him lean against him,
felt warm breath on the back of his neck. He kept his eyes forward,
and shifted minutely away. Fingers from behind him caressed his
neck with terrible gentleness. "There's someone else coming to see
you. Guess you got some 'splaining to do."

*****

Scully tried not to notice, but it was hard. As he had every morning
without fail since his return to work, Mulder entered the office with
an air of quiet terror. He tried to hide the way his eyes darted
continually, the way he flinched at any sudden noise. HIs
psychiatrist had released him to return to work with the
understanding that Mulder would continue their sessions. Scully
seriously questioned the wisdom of that decision, but couldn't find
it in her heart to protest. Doing so would only imprison Mulder in
his apartment with the memories of his abduction. She turned a
forced smile on him. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." he returned automatically. He sat at his desk and
began rifling through case files, post-its, stray papers.

"Looking for something?"

"Nope." he didn't look up.

Scully puzzled briefly over this. She studied him, noting the
careful way he didn't look at her. Okay, she could take a hint. She
turned back to her own work.

The day went by in a companionable silence. She stole the occasional
glance in his direction. Everytime she looked, he was either staring
distantly at places not-here or checking his watch. She finally grew
weary of it, pulled off her glasses and rubbed at her eyes.

"I've had enough for today, Mulder." she said as she gathered her
things. "Are you okay?"

Mulder grunted at her.

"Okay, then. See you in the morning."

Mulder watched her leave the office, waited until he was reasonably
sure she was gone. He reached into his jacket and retrieved an
embossed document. Opened his desk and carefully taped it underneath
the desk top, over the top drawer. Opened and closed the drawer
several times to be sure it wouldn't catch. Pulled out his cellphone
and dialed.

Scully's phone rang. One, two, three times before it forwarded to
her voicemail. "You have reached the office of Dr. Dana Scully.
I'm sorry I'm unable to answer your call right now. Please leave
your name, number and a brief message, and I will return your call as
soon as possible. Thank you."

A beep, then "Scully, listen carefully..."

*****

Mulder waited at the prearranged location. The dark parking garage
yawned around him. Dilated eyes skittered back and forth. He left
his guns in his car. He wondered whether Alex Krycek was really in
trouble or if this was another one of the twisted games he so enjoyed.

He remembered Krycek's single open eye in the picture this morning,
with its blank, shuttered expression.

He turned toward the sound of a car engine, watched headlights swing
around a ramp corner and approach him. Clenched his teeth viciously
to still his jaw. The car stopped in front of him, both front doors
swung open and two MIB jumped out, their guns directed at Mulder's
head. "Raise your hands where I can see them." one ordered. Mulder
raised his hands.

They made quick and professional work of blindfolding him and binding
his wrists in front of him with duct tape. He was muscled into the
back of the car and pushed to the floor and they took off.

*****

"Goddammit!" Krycek spat when a blindfolded Mulder was ushered into
the room. And as pissed as he was that the agent turned himself over
to these fucks, he couldn't help but be glad to see him. Lust seized
him at the sight of Mulder's quick pink tongue touching his upper lip.
Images unbidden of that dark head between his thighs, thumbs
planted in the hollow of his hips, mouthing him with that pink tongue,
played ruthlessly through his mind and he had to will himself not to
become erect. Mulder stumbled forward suddenly, landing on knees and
bound hands, recipient of a meanspirited shove from behind. Krycek's
face twisted with hate as he mentally marked for death the man who'd
shoved Mulder. His open eye narrowed and he hissed at his captor,
"Don't you touch him again."

"Is that you, Krycek?"

"Yeah, you numb shit, it's me."

Mulder flashed bright teeth, "So, you're glad to see me, then?"

"Fucking ecstatic." Krycek deadpanned.

Rough hands manhandled Mulder into a chair; and duct taped him to it.
The blindfold came off, making him blink rapidly at the sudden
brightness.

He frowned at the sight of Krycek's battered face. These guys had
jobbed him pretty good, judging from the broken nose, swollen mouth
and eye. And the blood. It covered his face and painted an obscene
tattoo across the front of his shirt. Rage filled him suddenly, that
these men would do this to Alex, never mind that he himself had
bashed this man in the past with joyous abandon. Mulder turned to
his captors and gritted "Let him go. You have me, now, so let him
go."

The MIB laughed. "Oh, Agent Mulder. It was never our intention to
let him go." Broke up again into high breathy titters as he left
the room with his companions.

Krycek tolerated this exchange with a look of pained annoyance. Then
he scolded, "How could you be so fucking stupid? I'm dead already.
Why are you here?"

"I don't know." Mulder returned. "They emailed me a picture of you.
With blood on your face and your eye swollen shut. I couldn't just
leave you."

"I think you could have." Krycek fired back. "I would have left you."

"No, you wouldn't. You didn't."

Deep sigh. "Now they'll kill you, too." his voice broke slightly
and Krycek was horrified; *horrified* to realize he was very near
tears.

"I don't think so."

*****

Scully sipped her coffee at her desk, still feeling starey from sleep.
She was worried about Mulder. Mulder had every right to be deeply
ensnared in the coils of PTSD, she didn't know the whole story, but
she'd seen the evidence of his ordeal carved into his very flesh.
When she asked him what happened, he'd get this look on his face like.
...she didn't know...shame, maybe. He would invariably look away
from her and stammer a change of subject.

God, what did he do to you, Mulder?

She sighed pensively. Whatever the state of Mulder's mental health,
there was still work to be done. She noted the blinking l.e.d. on
her phone indicative of voicemail messages. Now voicemail, in her
opinion, was undoubtably the most sinister and evil force on the
planet. She picked up her message pad and the phone. Dialed in her
code.

"September 15, 1997 at 6:11 p.m." the system droned, then Mulder's
voice. "Scully...listen carefully." Her eyes widened and she began
scribbling frantically on the message pad in front of her as she
listened to her partner's instructions.

*****

Two pair of hate-filled eyes marked his entrance. He allowed
himself a tiny half smile, then dragged long and hard on his
cigarette. Watched the graceful smoke curl up and around his head
like a halo. "Hello, boys." he said.

Silence.

"I would have expected a more enthusiastic greeting from you,
considering the circumstances."

"Alright." Krycek said, "Fuck you."

Wrinkled lips quirked. "Mister Krycek." the old man replied.
"Surely you can be more creative than that." He pulled a chair up to
face both men, sat down across from them. His eyes locked
meaningfully with Krycek's and he asked, "So Alex, how's the arm?"
He allowed his gaze to drop and move down, eyeing the arm with
deliberation.

Krycek visibly paled.

The old man turned his attention to Mulder. "And Agent Mulder. Did
you enjoy your recent stay at our facility?"

"Very much, thanks."

"I heard your visit was cut short."

Mulder shrugged.

"I also heard you displayed proper gratitude to your rescuer."

"Oh!" squeaked Krycek, outraged, "Fuck off!"

"Your repetition becomes tedious." The old man crushed his cigarette.
Reached into his inner jacket pocket for another as he stood.
"Well, it's been a pleasure working with the both of you." He paused
to light it. Fresh plumes of smoke swirled in the air. He turned to
leave.

"Wait a minute."

The old man turned gracefully back to face the captives. "Yes, Agent
Mulder?"

"I know who you are."

A spark of interest flared in the old man's eyes. A cold smile
touched his lips as he reseated himself. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah. Mom gave me a welcome home gift last spring when I returned
from the dead." Mulder confided. He leaned closer to the old man,
conspiratorially. "Guess what it was."
"I'm sure I have no idea."

"A Birth Certificate!" Mulder exploded. He paused as he watched the
man in front of him assimilate this information. Then he closed in
for the kill. "Listing you, not William Mulder, as my biological
father."

The old man's wrinkled face went slack with shock. "It isn't true."

"Are you sure?" Mulder taunted. "Are you absolutely sure about that,
you fuck? Because if it *is* true, would it not only cast into
doubt your motives behind everything you''ve done over the past
thirty-five years, but also tarnish considerably your present and
future credibility?"

The old man's eye widened in horror. "You wouldn't...".

"I did. I've made arrangements that if I don't arrive safe and sound
at a certain location by noon, that information becomes public.
*Dad*." Mulder spat the word.

The old man's throat worked as he searched for something to say. HIs
cigarette slipped from his fingers and rolled across the hardwood
floor.

And Fox Mulder smiled in face of his father's defeat.

*****

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Mulder asked. Krycek really did look
like hell, with his swollen face and blood decorating his shirt. He
was attracting unwanted attention from passers-by.

Krycek nodded to his feet, unable or unwilling maintain eye contact
with Mulder. "Yeah, I'll be okay." he looked back up at Mulder.
"I'm Alex Krycek. Remember?"

Mulder nodded. "That's it then. I'll see ya." As he turned to go,

Krycek grabbed his arm and pulled him into an alley. He pushed
Mulder against the side of a brick building, then pressed himself
against the other man. He lifted his hands to Mulder's face and
cradled it gently as he tilted his head to bring bruised lips to feed
on the agent's soft mouth. They stroked and nibbled as his tongue
teased, dartling in fleetingly to brush against Mulder's. Mulder
stiffened momentarily under Alex's touch, then he relaxed and
tentatively returned the kiss. Alex instinctively pressed deeper,
his mouth hungrier, and he ground down on Mulder, trying to
communicate in this kiss all his desires, his conflicts and passions.

Reluctantly, Krycek pulled away. He looked long into burning hazel
eyes, saying nothing. Saying everything. He turned slowly and
walked down the alley. Then he began to run.

eeez done...

____
Jen, GMT, NMMKRA, CKOTHF, TROEM

"Todd, get in here, we're meeting Grandma at The Olive Garden in an
hour. And you better not wear you're freaky cape." --Glenn to his
younger brother Israel Abyss--Goth Talk

On to Lesser Evils III: Return Of The Rat