From: "bizzzichick" <bizzzichick@yahoo.com>
To: "Whispers" <XFilesNC17ff@yahoogroups.com>
Subject: [XFNC17ff] NEW FIC:  Love Hurts III:  Breaking the Bond, R, M/K, (1/2)
Date: Thursday, February 28, 2002 12:48 PM

Title:  Love Hurts III:  Breaking the Bond

Author:  Satina  (bizzzichick@yahoo.com)

Website:  http://www.angelfire.com/scifi/xtasy

Rating:  R...can you believe it?

Keywords:  M/K, ANGST ANGST ANGST

Disclaimer:  They're mine.  Alllllll mine.  Finders keepers, losers weepers,
Chris.

Summary:  CGB does something horrible to remedy the situation Mulder and
Krycek's new relationship has caused for him.

Archive:  I used to give it away, but after getting burned, I'd very much
appreciate it if you asked first.  Yes in advance to any list it's posted
to.

Spoilers:  Um...nope.  Not this time.  But pay attention to that 'III',
people.  You've got to read, "Love Hurts," and "Love Hurts II" or you won't
get all of this.  They're on my website.

Feedback:  Ain't too proud to beg.   bizzzichick@yahoo.com

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Gentlemen, we have a problem."  CGB spender took a long drag off his
cigarette, then held the smoke dramatically, looking suspiciously like an
old pothead toking on a doobie. The other men in the room were silent,
giving him his moment of drama.  Spender blew out the smoke, sitting back in
his chair.

"It seems that the one thing we hoped would never happen has come to pass.
Alex Krycek has teamed up against us with Fox Mulder."  Anxious murmurs made
their way around the room and Spender waited, taking another drag.

"We've worked very hard to keep this from happening.  Now we're going to
have to work even harder to remedy the situation."  He had the room's
attention now, and he basked in it, pursing his lips slightly, leaning into
the old leather.

"First of all, we are going to have to punish Alex for his betrayal of us."
The room buzzed quietly and a few nods of agreement were seen.  "Second of
all, we are going to have to break the new bond these two have formed, and
make sure that Fox Mulder will have nothing to do with Alex Krycek ever
again."  The assent became louder as the room settled into solving their new
problem.

......................................................

"I've gotta get another hat."

The Bullwinkle computer email notification sound wav broke the silence of
the morning as Fox Mulder rushed around, gulping coffee and wrestling with
his tie.  He quickly bent and punched the button to bring up the message,
too curious to let an email go unopened, even when running late. His lips
curved into a grin as he saw the sender's address: Ratboy@hotmail.com.  He
slid into the chair, tie forgotten, coffee summarily plunked down on the
blotter.  As the message came up on the screen, his grin turned into a wide-
eyed stare of wonder and excitement, and his tongue made a quick swipe over
his bottom lip.

'Motherlode.  Fourth floor, bring DAT, orange pants optional, 8pm.'

Mulder read the message repeatedly, breathing rapid and shallow, then
remembered he was late for work and slurped the rest of his coffee while
shutting down his machine. He bolted out the door, feeling lighter than he
had in a very long time.

.................................................................

"Sorry I'm late."

"Mulder, good morning.  Uh oh...you look...enthusiastic.  I'm scared."  I
was only half-kidding.  I knew the reason for Mulder's recent bouts of
uncharacteristic happiness, and it did worry me.  I couldn't deny that
Krycek was doing so much for Mulder...for us...to make up for his
transgressions.  But he was still Krycek, and he had still duped Mulder once
with pretty eyes that looked too innocent, and a voice that dripped with too
much adoration.  I watched Mulder falling deeper and deeper under his spell,
and my happiness at his growing contentment warred with my need to protect
him.

Mulder laughed.  "Don't worry, Scully.  I'm not dragging you off to Siberia
or anything.  I just may have something very exciting to share with you
tomorrow morning."  He smiled enigmatically and removed his jacket, draping
it across the back of his chair with a flourish.

"Is this exciting as in, 'Alex Krycek carved his name in my back and now
we're in love,' type of exciting, or is it more, 'Aliens are staging me my
own laser show on top of Hegal Place tonight' type of exciting?"

Mulder laughed again, worrying me even more.  "A little of both, actually,"
he said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

I waited for more of the story, but it was not forthcoming.  I decided I'd
have to take the direct approach or it would drive me crazy.  "So, Mulder,
how is...Alex?"  His first name stalled as it made its way across my tongue,
but I made the effort for Mulder.

He looked up at me from under lowered lashes, looking like a naughty
schoolboy.  "Alex is great, Scully.  He's really great." He looked back down
and pretended he was very interested in his fluttering pile of previously
ignored, month-old departmental memos.

"Have you heard from him lately?" I pressed.

"Yeah."  Mulder said casually as he paged through a pile of weeks-old
telephone messages.  He didn't meet my eyes. Sighing again, I decided this
was all I was going to get from him on the subject.  I chewed my cheek and
studied the floor for a moment.  He looked up and caught me, and his face
looked instantly contrite.

"I'm sorry, Scully," he said, sounding sheepish.  "It's just that...this is
so new and...well, frankly weird...that I don't like to talk about it.  It's
nothing personal."

I looked into his eyes and couldn't help but feel a flicker of happiness at
the new light I saw there.  I finally relented, for today.  "I know, Mulder.
That's fine."  I gave him a gentle smile.  "So..." I said, changing the
subject, much to Mulder's obvious relief.  "What's on the agenda?"

......................................................

Alex Krycek's Nokia phone beeped quietly from within his jacket's inside
pocket.  One beep.  Text message.  He only received those from one person on
this earth.  His breathing accelerated as he looked side to side, making
sure he wasn't going to miss anything important, then brought the phone out
and called up his message.

'4th fl  need u  8p'

The strange string of letters on the screen made his heart pound almost
painfully against his ribs, and he took another quick look left to right,
ducking behind the collar of his jacket slightly.  Unable to conceal his
grin, he started to make his way to the street to catch a cab to the bad
part of town.

....................................................

I was probably the happiest and goofiest-looking assassin (EX-assassin, I
reminded myself) taking those rickety apartment complex steps two at a time,
but I couldn't help the grin that threatened to get me hauled off in the
paddy wagon. Five little letters that meant so much to me.  'need u'  God,
even thinking about them made my heart jump and squeeze inside my chest.  I
came to the door leading into the apartment in which we'd finally, under
great duress, confessed our real feelings for each other some months ago.
The contact I'd been there to meet had never shown up, and after watching
for a few weeks to insure it was clear, Mulder and I had started using it as
our meeting place.

We didn't have a set schedule...things were far too perilous to consider
anything that might be noticed, especially with all of the information I was
slowly feeding to Mulder, and his surreptitious investigations into the
secrets I was baring to him.  I was giving him the keys to the puzzle, piece
by painstaking piece, in a way that I thought he could handle. So far, he'd
been careful and had taken Scully with him on every investigation.  I told
him if I saw one 'Rogue Mulder' act I'd cut him off for a month.  And I'd
stop feeding him information for a while too.

I'd call him to meet, and I'd give him a name or a location, then we'd spend
hours on the floor, table, chair and countertop making love.  We'd part ways
before the sun was back up, with no set plan as to when we might meet again.
But I'd been calling meetings about every two weeks or so. We'd even
furnished our lovenest with a futon and battery- operated lantern, as well
as a generous supply of Astroglide and wet wipes.  Mulder had let me take
the lead, waiting for his next email from me.  We were making our own DAT
tape, recording everything he could gather during his operations. He brought
it with him to each meeting, and I'd download the Data onto my palm pilot
and give him another piece of the puzzle to pursue.  He'd never called a
meeting for us, so this message was extraordinary and exciting. 'need u'
Jesus, Mulder, I need you, too.

I even felt a bit of a blush warming my face as I pushed open the door,
which was already unlocked, the first of the tin numbers marking it turned
upside down, our signal that one of us had arrived.  I pushed it open and
saw his silhouette against the dark window, the lantern casting the room in
dark, otherworldly shadows.  I stepped in and saw him turn to greet me, his
smile choking me and stealing my words away.

Before I could even cross the room, I heard them in the hall. Frowning, I
whirled around.  My mouth dropped open as CGB Spender and four of his thugs
walked in the door, a trail of smoke marking his passage.

"Excellent job, Alex.  You were right.  He came just as you said he would."

I spun around to find Mulder's face pale, stricken, his mouth open, eyes
wide in shock and confusion.

"No!  Mulder, no!"  Before I could get anything else out, CGB elbowed past
me and two of his henchmen crushed in on either side of me, surreptitiously
shoving a gun into my gut. "This wasn't me!  Mulder!"  I struggled, ignoring
the sound of the pistol being cocked.  Spender cut in front of me, speaking
over the top of me.

"We'll take it from here, Alex.  You can drop the act.  Rest assured, you'll
be amply rewarded for your loyalty."

I opened my mouth to protest again, and suddenly felt the point of a blade
stab shallowly into my side, stealing my breath.  As I struggled to gather
enough to speak, the other two thugs rushed forward and grabbed Mulder,
sticking him with a syringe and catching him as he went limp in their arms.

"Noooooooooo!" I felt the scream tear my throat and my side, and heard it
echo from the hollow walls of the barren building.  Only my captors heard
me, and their answer was to drag Mulder out of the room after divesting him
of our DAT tape.  "Let him go..." My words were cut off as I felt the blade
slip more deeply into the flesh at my side, and all I could do was draw a
hiss of breath as it bit deeply.  The rapid thumps from outside let me know
Mulder was quickly being taken down the stairs.

"What..." I gasped, fighting against the pain of the knife point, going
still so as not to provoke further penetration, "are you doing?"  Spender
just stared at me, taking another drag of his cigarette.  I resented the
ashes falling on *our* floor.  I struggled to stay as still as possible to
avoid further injury by the blade.  It seemed that for now, the two men were
content to hold me tightly, the blade sunk in only a few inches, waiting.  I
wondered why I wasn't dead yet.  As the other two men returned and closed
the door carefully behind them, the picture started to come into focus.

"Alex," Spender began, his voice so reasonable it chilled my blood,  "You've
been doing very bad things."  He held the tape up between his first and
second fingers, turning it to catch the meager light of Mulder's and my
lantern.  I didn't say anything.  I knew he didn't expect or want a
response.

"You really underestimate us," he continued, dropping the tape and slowly
crushing it under his heel.  "Why did you ever think you could turn on us?"
This time his head tilted slightly, as if he wanted an answer.  I still
didn't have one.

"Well, no matter, really.  The truth is, Alex, you can't."  He took a deep
drag on his cigarette, squinting his eyes and daring me to disagree.  As if
I would, with a knife point sunk into my gut.  It was all I could do not to
breathe too deeply and exacerbate the pain.

"Oh, you don't disagree?" he goaded me, waving knife-boy back carelessly.  I
felt the point slide out of me as he took one step to the side and I took my
first deep breath since my one, long, breathless scream of denial.  Then I
took another, and another, feeling my warm blood quickly cool as it seeped
out into the fabric of my T-shirt.  His creased face distorted itself into
the parody of a smile.

"Maybe you're a bit smarter than we took you for.  I suppose we must as
least concede to that, given that you escaped our little surprise, even
getting away with the MJ files."  I felt a tiny spark of satisfaction at
that, which was quickly doused with his next revelation.  "Of course, it's
really not indicative of your high intelligence that you then paired up with
one of the operatives who tried to kill you.  Unlike you, Cardinale has
remained faithful to the Project.  The money you have split with him from
selling our secrets has funded our attempts to cover them back up quite
nicely."  The breaths I'd taken left my body in a defeated sigh as my lips
tightened, holding back the curses I wanted to spit.

Cardinale had found me after I'd escaped the car bomb.  I was selling the
secrets on the tape to stay alive, afraid if I closed my eyes I'd get my
throat slit in the middle of the night.  He'd threatened to expose me and my
buyers to the Syndicate unless I cut him on the deal.  I'd reluctantly
agreed, having no choice.  Seems Cardinale had sold me out anyway.
Motherfucker.

"In the end, Alex, you're going to come back to us, too."

I finally spoke.  "Fuck you."  I knew I was signing my own death warrant,
but with Mulder believing that I had betrayed him, this time more deeply and
horribly than ever before, and CGB's knife an inch from my body and streaked
with my blood, I had nothing to lose.

Or so I thought.

"From what Luis says, that's Mulder's job."  Spender smiled again, and it
was all I could do not to sacrifice my life, just to feel the satisfaction
of possibly spilling some of his blood before taking my last breath.  I had
heard about Cardinale's escape from the prison hospital, and had realized
that things had quickly become infinitely more deadly.  So, Cardinale was
back with them, and they knew everything he knew. They'd caught up with me.
And now they were going to kill me.  I resigned myself to it, grateful that
before my life had ended, I'd begun to make things up to Mulder, and we'd
shared something I'd never dared hope to experience.  I lifted my chin
defiantly, forfeiting my life with only the regret that I'd have no more
time with him.

He stepped up close and flicked ashes on my shoulder.  His smile disappeared
and his devil's eyes took on their true nature, going cold and soulless.

"Here's the deal," he said, blowing smoke in my face.  I could tell that he
was angry, which he'd not let on until now. "You're going to give us the
files, and then you're going to make sure that Mulder never has anything to
do with you again, Alex. You're going to sever any kind of fledgling
relationship you've started with him and insure that he never trusts you
again."

"Forget it, Spender.  You're just going to have to kill me."

He smiled again, and I felt my blood freeze.

"Ah, but Alex, my dear boy...you really aren't the brightest crayon in the
box, are you?"

I just stared at him, confirming his assessment but unable to do anything
more as I watched his lips stretch and lengthen.

"You're valuable to us, Alex," he continued.  "And Mulder is too, as a
matter of fact."  I felt a measure of relief.  It died as he went on.
"We've protected him for a long, long time," he continued.  "But now, well,
Alex...he's just become too dangerous to live, now."  He stopped to let his
words sink in. And they did, like a dagger in my heart.

"Yes, Alex, that's right.  As long as Mulder is working with you, and you
have the files, he's far too much of a threat to allow him to live.  So, if
you don't do exactly as we say, we'll just have to kill him." Spender's
voice was soft and calm, as if his words had no more consequence than a
recitation of what he'd had for breakfast.

"In fact," he went on, despite the blood that was now rushing in my ears,
threatening to lay me out on the ground, "as we speak, Dana Scully is being
transported to a secure location by one very disenchanted Luis Cardinale,
and he'll make sure all evidence implicates you as the one responsible for
this second abduction...as well as the death of her sister."

I felt any last dregs of hope decay as I realized he'd covered every base.

"So," he finished, taking a deep drag then dropping the used-up carcass of
his cancer stick at my feet as he blew it out carelessly into my face.  "You
go to Mulder and tell him whatever you need to, to make him believe," he
smirked, "or we will do away with the always beautiful but ever so
inconvenient Agent Scully, and there will be no way you can ever prove that
you were not responsible."

"And if I do as you ask?"  I was surprised my voice still worked.

"Then Mulder falls back under our veil of protection, we return Scully, we
send you underground for reconditioning, and things return to the way they
were."  He stepped back, shaking a second cigarette out of the pack.  Like
an automaton, one of his henchmen quickly stepped forward to light it, then
stepped back as if he, too, didn't want to be near the man too long.

Spender took a deep drag, and I stared at the cherry on the end of the
cigarette, feeling it burn me as he sucked the smoke from the stick and my
soul from my body.  "He's at his apartment now.  I assume we can trust you
to carry out your responsibilities as soon as possible, Alex."  The two men
stepped away from me altogether, as it was obvious to everyone that physical
force was no longer needed to keep me on my leash.  Feeling it tighten to
the point of asphyxiation, I nodded once.

"Good.  Assuming Mulder lets you live after you've talked to him, report
back to Base Three for your reconditioning.  Only when we've received your
report will Scully be returned to Mulder."

I nodded again, realizing for the first time that as much as I'd felt
controlled by him before, now he truly had the means to own me.  I knew he
wouldn't even let me take my own life; that Mulder's life would always be
held over me now that he knew how much I valued it.

"Oh, and Alex," he added, heading for the door.  "We have him under constant
surveillance, remember.  If you try anything clever, we kill her."  I just
nodded again.  He evidently also knew that Scully's death would be the one
thing Mulder would never forgive, no matter what I told him.

As soon as they were gone, before they'd even reached the bottom of the
noisy wooden stairs, I stumbled to the old sink and retched and retched and
retched, until my body was only convulsing in on itself in dry heaves,
aggravating my stab wound.  Blood ran down my side, soaking my jeans as well
as my shirt.  I stood, wiping the bile from my lips but unable to rinse it
from my mouth, even with the vodka we always kept under one of the
floorboards.

I took a deep breath and then started down the stairs, hoping that Mulder
would let me live long enough to report back to the base.  As I drove across
town, I realized I did have one last way out.  After I returned to Base
Three and made my report, and after I was 'reconditioned', I would simply go
back and make it very easy for Mulder to kill me.  I knew it wouldn't take
long after what I was about to do to him.

I pulled up in front of his darkened apartment and wiped away the tears I
hadn't even realized were welling from my eyes.  How could I be crying?
Dead men don't cry.

end 1/2
2/2...

I made my way up the stairs and opened the door, unafraid. I knew that at
the very least, he'd listen to me.  He might even still be sedated, giving
me a moment to be with him before I shattered everything we had.

I stepped into the room, reaching to the side to turn on the light.  Mulder
was facing the door, hands cuffed behind his back, head lolling on his
chest.  I took a moment to appreciate his aching beauty, sending out every
bit of love I'd ever had for him or ever would, telling his soul with mine
that everything I was about to tell him was the most terrible kind of lie.

Then I chuckled loudly.  Mulder's head snapped up.

"You...Alex...what happened?"  He looked more confused than angry and it
nearly broke me.  But I made my eyes blank and smirked.

"You're absolutely priceless, you know that, Mulder?"  My tone was mocking,
and I felt my soul leave my body and hover, watching as I continued with my
performance.

"What are you talking about?"  His voice was more leery now.  Yeah, he was
catching on.  It wouldn't be hard at all to destroy the fragile trust I'd
built so carefully.

"You...thinking I would give it all up for the chance to fuh...fuck you."  I
almost blew it, but I sneered and looked down at him with all the contempt I
could gather.  "Do you know how much power I have, Mulder?  Do you have any
fucking idea how big I am in the grand scheme of things?"  I sounded
half-crazed with my efforts to mask my pain.  I almost didn't have to go on
at all as I saw the hurt wash over his face, the betrayal immediately
stealing away the light in his eyes and the color in his skin.  It was so
easy for him to believe the lie.  I wanted to blow my brains out in the
hopes that maybe it would take away the sting.  But I had to make my report.
I finished up quickly.

"You were so easy, Mulder.  So much easier than I'd ever thought you would
be.  Oh I'll admit...you're a good lay." Here I had a little trouble again,
unable to use the coarsest language, settling for something middle of the
road.  As his lip curled up in a scowl, I knew it was good enough.  "But
Jesus...no ass, even yours, is worth giving up the chance at world
domination."

He surprised me and spoke quietly.  "But you said it made a difference..."
And it was so vulnerable, so achingly raw, that I had to shut my eyes
against the wave of pain that threatened to pull me under.  I opened them
quickly and said what I knew would rip away any last shred of hope he might
be desperately holding onto.

"I have Scully.  I took her before I set up the meeting, in case you were
more difficult to take than I'd thought.  Well, we all know how easy you
ended up being, so Scully will be returned to you."  I turned on my heel and
made my way to the door quickly, unable to bear the pain and pure hatred
that bloomed in his eyes at hearing that, once again, I'd dragged Scully
into the mire that was our twisted association.  "See ya, baby.  Was fun
while it lasted."

"If it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna hunt you down and kill you, Krycek,"
I heard from behind me, low and dark and so intent that I knew it to be
true.  I made myself chuff out a contemptuous laugh and keep going.

Please hurry, Mulder.  I stepped out, closing the door behind me.

.........................................................

I woke lying on my side, gagged, hands tied behind my back, ankles bound,
riding in a moving vehicle.  I heard voices and froze, eyes closed, not
letting on that I was awake, as much as I wanted to blow the long strands of
hair off my face.

"Do you think this is going to work?"

"Of course it is."  The smoker's voice was unmistakable.  I didn't know the
other one.

"What makes you so sure?"

The smoker sounded impatient.  "You said it yourself, Luis. Alex Krycek, as
much as he wishes the contrary, very much loves Fox Mulder, and while he
would easily forfeit his own life to escape us, holding Mulder's over his
head is an absolutely flawless way to get him to do whatever we want for the
rest of his life."

I nearly gasped, holding back at the last moment as I heard the man who
killed my sister speak.

"So why the redhead?"

"Insurance that Alex will go and tell Mulder whatever is necessary to
convince him that their bond was false...that Alex was playing him all
along.  If Alex doesn't report back to Base Three, Scully doesn't return.
Again, flawless, since Alex knows that Scully's death would destroy any
chance of resurrecting that tenuous bond, even were he to somehow convince
Mulder of his sincerity.  This way, he tells Mulder what we want him to and
gets back to us as soon as possible."

I felt myself grow sick at the perfect evil of their plan.

"What happens when he gets back?"

"Alex needs a little reminder of who is pulling his strings," said the
smoker smugly.  I could almost see the smile creasing his tobacco-stained
face.  "And you deserve a reward for your admirable service, Luis.  He'll be
brought to you to discipline as you see fit.  You may not, of course, kill
him or maim him in a way that would make him useless to us, but it won't
hurt to have him spend a few months in one of our hospitals, before being
sent up for reconditioning.  By the time we're finished, there will be
nothing left of that irritating will of his, and he'll be the perfect tool
to keep Mulder down, should Mulder even continue to be a threat."

God.  Oh, Alex.  I knew I had to get away, no matter what it took, and get
back to Mulder before Alex could return and make his report.  We had to stop
him.

"I appreciate your generosity," Cardinale said, an edge of breathless
anticipation in his voice.  "But Krycek's such a loose cannon...why not just
let me kill him?"

I heard the smoker's sigh.  He sounded impatient.  "Alone, Mulder is a thorn
in my side, and Krycek a sometimes useful, if unpredictable, tool. Together,
the two of them have probably the only chance of bringing the Project down.
That must be avoided at all costs. This way, Mulder is shattered, perhaps to
the point that he is no longer any kind of a threat. Scully is left broken
by a second abduction, as well as the impression that Krycek was the one who
killed her sister, and Krycek is made the ultimate weapon against any and
all resistance to the plan."

"Wow," said the other man, obviously impressed.

Yeah, wow.  I was riding with the devil incarnate here.  The men said
nothing else, and I began to assess my situation more fully, opening my eyes
just a slit.

I appeared to be in the back of a limo, lying on a sumptuous leather couch,
unguarded.  I guessed that if there had been more than the two men riding
with me, at least one would be riding back here.  So, we had the smoker and
Cardinale, and an open window between us.  They thought I was still
unconscious and that gave me one advantage.  My short legs gave me yet
another.

Bending myself double, I slipped my bound arms forward under my feet and
brought them around in front of me.  I stopped, going still and waiting if
they'd noticed any of my struggling.  When nothing happened, I quickly
slipped my gag down, untied my wrists and ankles, then scanned the back of
the car for something that could be used as a weapon.  I knew that at any
moment, the smoker could turn to check on me, or Cardinale might look in his
mirror.  I stayed low, and seeing only one option, grabbed up one of the
large, clunky highball glasses from the rack along the side of the leather
seating.  Then I heard a cellphone chirp.

"Yes?  Ah, good.  Excellent.  Thank you."  I heard the beep of the end
button being punched.  "It's done.  Alex has done what we asked him to do,
and by the sounds of things, he did a very thorough job.  Mulder is crying
pathetically, not yet even making an attempt to get free of his bonds.  It
appears the illusion is completely successful."

"So now we take back the redhead?"

"No, not yet.  We need to keep her as insurance until Alex has made his
report.  We also need to give her enough of a trauma that she is unable to
forgive Alex, and perhaps even ready to abandon Mulder in his quest
altogether."

"Smart thinking."

"Thank you," the smoker said sarcastically.  "Now please shut up and drive."

I bit the side of my cheek to keep from growling.

Now I had to decide who to take out first, Cardinale or the smoker.  I
decided that if I took out his superior, the obviously not-so-brilliant
Cardinale was likely to be stunned enough to give me the two seconds I
needed to turn and brain him with the tumbler next.  Before I could let
myself think about it too much, I raised up and reached through the open
window between us, hitting the smoking man as hard as I could in the back of
the head with the heavy whiskey glass, once, twice.

As expected, Cardinale turned, stunned, as the smoker slumped forward and
slammed into the dashboard.  Before he could even assess what had happened,
I rammed the glass into the side of his head quickly three times, driving
him forward to slump over the wheel, unconscious.

Now I had a new problem.  I was in an out-of-control limousine on an unknown
roadway, going an unknown speed. I quickly climbed through the opening,
holding the wheel steady with one hand.  I reached across Cardinale to open
his door, and then shoved him out, hoping we weren't on a busy road where
his exit might prove dangerous for other drivers. I slipped behind the wheel
and swore colorfully, realizing the seat was too far back for me to reach
the pedals, and the damned car was on cruise control and going as fast as
ever. I straightened out the wheel, seeing that we were on what appeared to
be a deserted country road, then reached to the side to activate the
motorized seat adjustment.  Finally, I could reach the pedals, and I
immediately stopped the car, pulling over the side of the road and snatching
the smoker's cellphone from his inside jacket pocket.  I ran far enough away
from the road that I would not be seen by a suddenly conscious smoker, and
punched the buttons on the unfamiliar phone.  I didn't call Mulder.  It
didn't sound like he was in any position to help me right now. Instead, I
dialed another number.

"Skinner."

"Sir, it's Agent Scully."

"Agent Scully, what is it?  It's after 10pm.  Are you all right?"

"I think so, sir.  I'm not calling about me.  It's Mulder."

"What about Mulder?"

"He's cuffed to his chair in his apartment.  The smoking man's people did
it.  I need you to go over there."

I heard rustling, and I knew he was getting to his feet.  "Of course.  But
where are you?"

I looked around at the dark shapes of the trees around me.  I frowned.

"I'm actually not sure.  I just left the smoker's car, and I'm in a field."

"Scully, are you okay?"

"Yes, sir, I'm fine.  I just need you to get to Mulder."

"All right, Agent Scully, I'm on my way.  In the meantime, I'll triangulate
this number and we'll come and get you.  Stay put and stay safe."

"Yes sir," I said, feeling some of the tension drain from my body as the
adrenaline rush wore off.

"One thing, Scully.  Whose phone is that?  It's not your number on my caller
ID."

"It's the smoking man's cellphone."

There was silence on the other end, then Skinner's voice, low and warm.  "I
see.  Good job, Agent.  Stay on the phone and I'll get that trace going."

"Yes, sir."

I could hear all of Skinner's actions as he made his way out of his
apartment and down to his car, first using his home line to order the trace.
I listened, impatient and breathless, as the car's motor roared to life and
he drove across town to Mulder's apartment.  I heard him get out of the car,
still carrying the phone, and make his way up to Mulder's door. He stepped
through the unlocked door and I heard him cross the floor.

"Agent Mulder."

"Sir?"  Mulder's voice was cracked and low.  He sounded lifeless and
defeated.  I closed my eyes against the wash of pain I felt at the knowledge
of his suffering.  To trust Alex again, then once more have that trust
destroyed had to have been more than Mulder could bear, even after the many
evils he'd faced in his life.

"Let's get you out of there."  Skinner's voice was gruff, covering his
concern, although not successfully.  My throat swelled with the need to tell
Mulder the truth I knew.

"I've got bolt cutters in the kitchen," I heard Mulder mumble. I could
almost see Skinner's eyebrow go up and heard him as he went into the kitchen
and got the tool, bringing it back and with a series of metallic snapping
sounds, freeing Mulder from his bonds.

"We need to go, Agent Mulder."

"Where?"  Mulder's voice sounded completely uninterested. He didn't even ask
how Skinner had known how to find him.

"We have to find Agent Scully."

"Scully?"

I smiled sadly at his instant concern.

"Yes, she's fine.  She called me, but she's not sure where she is, and we're
triangulating on her cellphone now.  I need to use your phone to see if we
have any coordinates.  Here, you take this."

Scully heard the rustling of the phone being handed off and then sighed with
deep relief at the sound of Mulder's voice.

"Scully?"

"Mulder.  I'm so glad you're all right."

"Scully, where are you?  What's going on?"

"They took me, too, Mulder.  Mulder, I have something to tell you.  It's
going to be hard to believe."

"Okay..."

"Mulder, Alex is not your enemy."

Before he could respond, Skinner was back.

"We've got it.  Let's go."

"Scully..."

"I heard, Mulder.  Go out to the car.  We can talk there."

"Okay."

I waited until I heard them get into the car and the motor started.  Mulder
came back on the line.

"Okay, we're moving.  And Scully, I'm pretty damned sure I know exactly
where Alex Krycek stands."

"No, Mulder, you don't..."

He cut me off.  "Scully, listen.  If there is one thing I know, it's that my
one goal in life right now is to hunt down Alex Krycek."

"Yes, Mulder, we do have to find him, but not for the reason you think.  I
was in the back of the smoking man's limo and I heard the whole story.  I
know what Alex said to you.  And I know why."

"What the hell are you talking about?  And since when do you call Krycek
'Alex'?"

"Since I found out he sacrificed his life to save yours, Mulder...and mine."

"I...I don't understand."

"I heard the smoker tell Cardinale that they made Alex tell you things.
Things that would insure that you never trusted him again.  Because
together, Mulder, you're too dangerous to them."

"But why did he agree to do it?"

"Because they said they'd kill you and me if he didn't."

Silence from the other end of the line.  Then breathing.  Then heavier
breathing.

"They took me so that he would be sure to come to you and break everything
off with you right away.  He has to report back to them or they kill me.
Mulder, we have to find him. We have to stop him.  They're going to let
Cardinale take his revenge, and then they're going to send him away for
something he referred to as 'reconditioning'.  Do you know where he might
be, Mulder?  Do you have any idea how to find him?"

Mulder was silent a moment, and I could almost hear his brain working.
"What else did you hear, Scully?  Tell me everything you can remember."

I thought back, biting my lip.  "They said he had to report back to Base
Three or they were going to kill me.  Do you know what that is?"

"We need to get back to my apartment."  He was talking to Skinner, not me,
his voice distant.  "Scully, we've got people on the way there to get you.
Meet me back at my apartment."

"Okay, Mulder.  I'll see you there."

I heard the phone being handed back to Skinner.

"Agent Scully?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'm going to take Agent Mulder back to his apartment. We've got a fix on
your location.  You're only about an hour away.  Our men should be there
shortly.  Will you be okay?"

"Yes, sir.  I think I'm pretty safe here."

"All right, Agent.  I'll see you back here when you return. Stay safe."

"Thank you sir."

I hung up the phone and made myself comfortable, sitting against the trunk
of a tree.  Now I just had to wait and see what Mulder had in mind.  Hold
on, Alex.  Just hold on.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Title:  Love Hurts IV:  Bent

Author:  bizzzichick@yahoo.com  (Satina)

Website:  http://www.angelfire.com/scifi/xtasy

Rating:  R for language

Keywords:  M/K

Disclaimer:  I might be willing to deal if I see the boys together
in the finale.  Might.

Summary:  Mulder races against the clock to try to stop Alex
from walking into his nightmare.

Archive:  I used to give it all away to everyone, but after getting
burned, I'd appreciate it if you asked first.  Yes in advance to
any list it's posted on.

Spoilers:  No.

Feedback:  It keeps me going on the bad days and makes me
loopy on the good ones.  And it keeps the fic-fountain flowing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I was half-sick and light-headed as Skinner pulled up in front of
my apartment.  I blinked the tears out of my eyes, not wanting
Skinner to see them and wonder what the hell was wrong with
me.  I knew I had to tell him what was going on in order to have
his help, but I needed a few minutes to myself first.

I was opening the door before the car had even rolled to a
complete stop and bounding up the stairs two and three at a
time, too impatient to wait for the elevator.  I reached my
apartment and rammed the key into the lock, slamming the door
open.

The DAT.  The DAT.  Thank God he trusted me not to open it.
They must have assumed that the DAT I had with me when they
ambushed us was theirs.  It wasn't.  It was ours.

I started across the room toward the lockbox under my book
case and stopped as my shoe slipped on something spilled on
the floor.  I stepped back to see what I had stepped in and felt
my breath leave in a gasp.

Blood.  A small pool about the size of a golf ball.  Right where
he'd stood as he'd strangled my soul.

Oh, God, Alex.

The tears won, sliding down my cheeks as I imagined him
injured and distraught, thinking only of rushing back to his
nightmare so that Scully and I would escape ours.  My arms
ached with the need to hold him.  My lips trembled with the need
to be against his, feeling his breath, swallowing his words as he
took back the deathblow he'd dealt me to save my life.

I wiped my hand across my eyes and hurried over to the box,
pushing the small key into the lock and yanking the lid open.
Inside lay a small, plastic tape that held everything I'd ever
sought in all my years since my sister's abduction.  All the
information and proof I'd ever need to end my quest once and
for all.  But right now, I needed it for another quest.  The one to
save Alex's life.

I reached inside the box with trembling fingers and withdrew the
case just as A.D. Skinner came through my front door, frowning.

"Agent Mulder, do you care to tell me what the hell is going on
here?"

I turned around to answer him and watched his eyes drop to the
object held tightly in my fingers.  His brow furrowed deeply.

"Is...that..."

"Yes.  It's the DAT."

"But how..."

"Alex gave it to me.  I've had it for months."

"Months.  Alex.  Alex Krycek??"  Skinner's brows arched into the
most expressive face I'd ever seen him make.

"Alex Krycek.  He gave me the DAT four months ago, and he's
been working with me ever since."  My lips trembled as I
simplified our relationship into a working partnership,
remembering how tenderly Alex would kiss me, how softly he
would touch me, how passionately he would make love to me,
whispering husky declarations in both English and Russian.

Skinner blinked and squinted, trying to understand.  "You've
been working with Alex Krycek."

And more.  So much more.  "Yes, sir.  He's been helping me
gather information on the Project."

"I don't understand."

"Please, sir, I don't have time to explain it all right now.  Alex is
on our side, and he thinks that they're going to kill me and
Scully unless he returns to them.  They're going to hurt him, sir,
and I can't let that happen."  I struggled to keep my voice
steady, the tears in my throat making it hard to speak.

"I'll expect to be updated more thoroughly on this situation later,
Agent.  Now what are we doing here?"

I went over to my computer and clicked the DAT tape into place,
punching in a long, complicated series of codes, opening the
many layers of protection on the files.  "Scully said he was
headed for Base Three.  I've never seen that in the files, but it
must be in there somewhere."

Skinner nodded and pulled up a chair as I began to do a search
on the words 'Base Three.'  A list of documents began to form,
and before it was finished, I opened the first one.  It was a
medical record.  A very long, complicated medical record.  I
hoped Scully was on her way here, because I could only make
out a small part of the information I saw.  Lists of medications,
lab results, tons and tons of test results of all kinds.  I couldn't
tell if they were good or bad though, I could only see that this
individual, assigned a number instead of a name, had undergone
enough tests for a whole city's worth of hospitals.

I felt my stomach begin to twist itself into a tight, sick knot. Alex
was headed straight for a medical experimentation facility.  I
began scanning the document for some sign of an address,
phone number, zip code, anything.

"Goddamn it!"

I swept my arm across my desk, sending papers, pencils, and
other assorted debris flying.  Fortunately in a direction other
than at my boss.

"Agent Mulder!  Throwing your possessions across the room is
not going to get us any closer to finding Krycek."  Skinner's
voice was calming, but I felt like an errant child.  I sulked,
turning back to the screen as he stood from the chair.

"So this is why we have to requisition you a new phone every
damned week," he muttered, and I jerked around in my seat,
breath caught in my throat.

The phone!

"Sir!  Here!"  I reached out frantically toward the man crouching
on the floor, and he frowned and handed me the phone after
putting the battery back in.  With trembling fingers, I began
punching the keys, the sweat on my fingertips causing me to
make more errors than usual. Breathing hard, feeling like my
chest was going to explode, I hit the button to send my
message.

Please, Alex, answer it. ................................................

I drove with one hand, wiping tears away from my eyes with the
other, swerving across the yellow line, barely giving a shit. With
a curse, I wrenched the wheel back, knowing that Scully would
die if I was stupid enough to get myself killed in a fucking traffic
accident.  I felt light-headed and queasy from loss of blood, the
pain in my side a constant, throbbing ache, the blood having
saturated my clothes down to my shoes on one side, making my
foot slip on the gas pedal.

I reached into my front jacket pocket and pulled out the fifth of
vodka I'd taken from our stash in our old meeting place.  I used
my teeth to unscrew the cap, wincing at the feel of the metal in
my teeth, then spit the cap to the side and started gulping it like
water.  I was almost to the base and I didn't think it would really
hit me for another ten minutes, plenty of time to complete the
short drive.  As I pulled the now-empty bottle away from my lips,
willing my stomach to hold onto the rocket of poison I'd just
sent down, I heard a quiet beep from inside my other pocket.

I gasped, and tears blurred my vision again as the sound that
used to take my breath away with giddy joy now threatened to
steal it away with despair.

Text message.  The thing that had ended my life, sucked out my
soul, broken my will with just a few carefully chosen letters.

'need u'

I roared and ripped the phone from my pocket, swerving across
the lane, then screeching over to the side of the road so I didn't
kill myself and fuck everything up.  What kind of a fucking game
were they playing now?  I knew they had my message address
and they had corrupted my one little lifeline to Mulder with their
betrayal of our new and fragile alliance.  I felt my body sway as
I stared at the phone, but I knew I had to at least look at the
treacherous message they'd sent.  I punched the buttons
savagely, bringing it up.

'scully safe. love u. i no all. cum bak.'

For just one, stupid, vodka-soaked moment, I felt my heart swell,
feeling his love behind the economical display on the screen.
Then bile rose and I nearly vomited, realizing it was just a trick,
a test to see if my loyalty was as complete as they thought it
was.  Fucking pricks.  Just one last dig of the knife in my side
to see if I'd weaken and go running back.  I brought my shaking
fingers back up the keys and punched.

'im not fking stupd. go 2 hell.'

I hit the button to send, then threw the phone on the seat next to
me, pulling back into traffic with a loud screech of tires,
narrowly missing a collision with a taxi.  I stepped on the gas,
trying like hell to blink away the haze falling over my brain so
that I could drive one more block.  The vodka was starting to
kick in, and my reflexes were failing fast.

...................................................

I heard the soft beep and nearly dropped the phone.  I quickly
brought up the message, my fingers slipping on the keys.  My
body sagged as a heavy stone dropped into the pit of my
stomach.  I stared at the screen, looking at a communication I
knew Alex's fingers had keyed in just minutes ago.  God, I nearly
held the phone to my heart and sobbed, and probably would
have if Skinner hadn't been there staring at me, waiting to see if
my idea had worked.  I wordlessly handed him the phone.

"Dammit."

I closed my eyes, holding my hand out for the return of the
phone.  Even though the words on the screen were not what I
had hoped and prayed to see, they were from Alex and therefore
special.  I keyed in the command to save them and let my hand
fall, the phone held loosely against my thigh.

"Agent Mulder."

I turned, forcing my eyes open.  I knew I had to stay focused,
keep working on trying to find him.

"I have an idea.  Hand me your phone.  Your land line."

I frowned and gave it to him and watched as he dialed.

"Yes, hello.  This is Assistant Director Walter Skinner of the FBI.
Badge number 756478930.  I need some help finding a
cellphone."

My breath caught.  Another chance.  Oh God please.

"No, no we can't triangulate.  We don't have an open connection.
But we received a text message moments ago, and we need you
to track the origin of that message.  Yes, of course it's an
emergency."

Skinner glanced at me, obviously irritated, and I tried not to
make a sound, forgetting to breathe as I waited for them to
respond.  He turned his attention back to the phone, listening,
then I saw his shoulders sag as he sighed.

"Yes.  Yes, I understand.  Thank you."

He handed me the receiver, his face dark.  "They can't trace a
cell phone without an open connection.  All they can tell us is
that it was roaming when the last transaction was made."

I blinked.  Roaming?  I knew Alex's cell worked for a two-
hundred mile radius.  We'd joked about it, because he was
grousing that unless he left the state, he couldn't even force
those assholes to pay roaming charges.

But there was an exception.  He'd told me that for some reason,
the phone never worked near the Kennedy psychiatric hospital.
And not just anywhere near the hospital, but in a two block
radius around it.  He said he sometimes had business there, and
he'd wait to make his call to them until he pulled into the parking
lot just so the call would be billed at the ungodly rate of sixty
cents a minute.  He could be such a brat.

"God.  I think...I mean, I may know where he is!"  I jumped up
from the chair, grabbing my cellphone and my jacket and
heading for the door.  Skinner jumped up behind me and we ran
out the door, each jumping into our own cars, Skinner following
close behind as I pulled into the mid-day traffic.

........................................................

I pulled into the underground parking structure, my vision
starting to seriously blur as I drove down to the third level,
parking the car and practically falling out the door.  I shook my
head and willed myself to stay upright, knowing I only had a
short distance more to go before I'd completed my objective
and could stop giving a shit what happened to me.

I staggered over to the door that looked like it led to a storage
area next to the elevators and shuffled through the keys on my
ring.  Fortunately, I'd used the key enough times that I could find
it by touch, because I could no longer focus my eyes to see it.  I
still stuck the wrong key in the lock a few times before I felt the
doorknob give, then I stepped into the small secret elevator and
willed myself not to puke as it began a swift descent
underground.

I staggered out as it reached Base Three, catching myself
against the wall and blinking away the intense need to fall down.
I stumbled down the stark white hallway to the main door and
buzzed to be let in, giving the security camera my sickest smile.

The heavy door opened and I stepped through, making my way
over to the front desk.

"Krysshek."

"Yeah, I know.  They're waiting."

I scowled back at the look of disgust on the receptionist's face
and went over to the door, taking a deep breath before opening
it and stepping in.

"Alex."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Name's Pierce," said the young man coolly.  I scowled at him
and made no move to step closer to the large mahogany desk.

"I believe you have a report to make?"

Asshole.  I wanted nothing more than to grab that pompous shit
by the back of his collar and shove that smart mouth of his into
the wall over and over until the paneling was slippery and wet.  I
was so far in rank above him that if I weren't in trouble with
them right now I wouldn't even get a reprimand for killing him.
Maybe once I'd been through 'reconditioning', I'd pay him a
special visit.  I let that thought cheer me.

"Objective achieved."

"We know," he sneered, leaning forward to punch a button.
"Come and retrieve parcel number seven."

Parcel.  Nice.  What the fuck ever.  Scully and Mulder were safe.
That's all that mattered.  The smarmy little bastard sat back in
his chair, tenting his fingers like he was somebody.  I imagined
breaking them one by one and enjoying the wet cracking sounds
punctuated by screams.

"You did such a nice job," the underling said.  "He was actually
crying when you left him, Alex.  Poor little whiny faggot."

My whole body tensed, and I bit down hard, my vision
narrowing to one sharp tunnel.  I would kill him.  Maybe not
now, but I needed a new reason to live now that I'd met my goal,
and I decided that it would be his slow and interesting death.  I
stalked across the room toward him and saw the fear spark in
his eyes.  I knew I wouldn't be able to do anything here and
now, but I'd still give him a taste of what was to come.

"I'm going to enjoy watching you scream," I said quietly.  Just
then the door behind me slammed open and two thugs came in
and grabbed me by the arms, wrenching them back.  I felt the
wound in my side tear a little more, more blood flowing to join
the trickle still making its way into the fabric of my clothes.
Maybe they'd forget all about that and I could quietly bleed to
death.  I've never been that lucky, though, so probably not.

The man at the desk smiled as the two men restrained me.  I
couldn't even struggle as the combined effects of the alcohol
and blood loss seeped away my strength.  As the guy came
around the desk and swung his arm back, preparing to sink it
into my gut, I didn't even flinch.  I felt his fist drive the
remaining air from my lungs and felt some small satisfaction as
I promptly vomited down the front of his suit just before passing
out.

...............................................................

I pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, scanning the area
frantically for Alex's car.  I didn't see it anywhere, but I went
slowly, row to row, checking every vehicle in the lot. Fortunately
it wasn't a huge hospital, just two stories high with a small
parking lot.  Very small.  I made the rounds twice and saw no
sign of Alex's car, and I saw Skinner working the other side of
the lot, going on the description of Alex's car that I gave him.
Nothing.

Then I saw a small service vehicle, one of those little golf carts
with gardening tools in it, putter up a small cement roadway and
then disappear into the side of the wall behind a breezeway.  I
pulled the car over to the curb and got out, unsnapping the
holster of my gun and pushing my coat back, making sure it was
easily accessible.  I looked over and saw that Skinner had pulled
up at the curb and was watching me. I walked over to him.

"I'm gonna follow it."

"You shouldn't go alone, Mulder.  We'd better wait for Scully and
my men to get here."

"Sir, it may be too late if we do," I said, not allowing myself to
really think about it what that could mean for Alex.  He frowned,
considering, then nodded once.

"Let's go."

I sighed with relief as Skinner stepped out of the car, readying
his own weapon.  Silently we made our way up the small road
and around the wall I'd seen the cart go behind.  I was only
slightly surprised to see that the road led downward into a
hidden underground parking garage.  Very interesting, seeing as
how the hospital wasn't that large and the small parking lot not
even half-full.  We made our way slowly into the dark, scanning
for Alex's car once more, each taking a different side of the
garage.

The structure was full of cars, but it was small, so it didn't take
us long to search the first floor and find the road down to the
second.  We covered that floor, finding nothing, and made our
way down to the third level, becoming increasingly frantic.  I
was scanning the cars, trying to control my rising panic, when I
saw Skinner waving me over.

Alex's car.  He was there.

I went to the driver's side door and peered in, but of course the
car was empty.  To my utter surprise, the door was unlocked,
and I pulled it open, leaning in.

The front seat was covered with blood.  The dark blue velour
upholstery was soaked through with it and still very wet to the
touch.  I breathed slowly and carefully, trying to stay objective,
looking for clues as to where he might have gone. Other than the
cellphone sitting on the passenger seat, the only other thing I
found was an empty fifth bottle.  'Our' fifth bottle.  The vodka we
kept in our little secret stash under the floorboards.  My jaw
clenched, and I lifted the bottle to my mouth, running my tongue
around the rim, trying to taste him.  Of course I couldn't, but I
could remember, and I knew his mouth had been there, so I
licked the traces of vodka away, hoping the alcohol had helped
to dull the pain I knew he must be in.  I tucked the precious
bottle into my pocket and slipped his phone in with it, then got
out of the car and looked around the area.

"What is it, Agent Mulder."

"Just his phone, and empty vodka bottle."

Skinner nodded and looked down, obviously concerned for me.
Then his head bolted up.  "Mulder."

I looked at him and he glanced down at the ground and back up
at me.  I looked down and felt my stomach turn as I saw the trail
of blood Alex had left for me.  With heavy steps I followed it to
the elevator doors.  Skinner trailed me, watching my back.

When I reached them, I was surprised to see that the trail didn't
lead to them, but rather to a small door to the side of them. Alex,
are you in there?  I stepped over the door and reached for the
knob.  It was locked, of course, and I swore and rattled it,
shaking the heavy metal door only slightly as I tried in vain to
get it to give.  He was in there. Alex was in there and I was
going to get through this door and find him.

"Mulder, you're going to alert someone to your presence shaking
the door like that."

His tone was quiet, not chastizing.  He was right, of course, and
mistakes like that could get me killed, and then I'd never be able
to get to Alex.  "I've gotta get in there, sir."

"I know, Mulder.  I have some things in my trunk.  You wait here."

Skinner headed quickly for the ramp leading up, and I made my
way back over to Alex's car.  I hunkered behind it, taking small
comfort in the meager cover.  I pulled my gun out and flipped
off the safety just in case, then settled in to wait.

I didn't have long.  But it wasn't Skinner that showed up. The
elevator doors opened soundlessly and two men in riot gear
stepped out, scanning the area.

Shit.  I ducked down lower, making myself as small as possible,
but they seemed to know right where I was. The sound of their
heavy boots on the cement was ominous as they stalked toward
me.  I heard the sound of semi-automatic weapons being
cocked.

"Come out with your hands up, sir."

Oh God, Alex.  I'm so sorry.  I fucked up.  I stood up, holding my
gun in the air.

"Slide the weapon to us across the ground, sir."

I looked at the two big men with their two big guns and knew I
was screwed.  I flipped the safety on and slowly lowered the gun
to the ground, then slid it toward them.  One man stayed while
the other came over and frisked me, and soon they'd found my
backup weapon on my ankle as well.  I had no thought for what
they might do with me.  My only thought was that now I couldn't
save Alex.

Maybe Skinner and Scully would do better.  As I was hustled
into the elevator and began a rapid descent, I prayed it was so.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Title:  Love Hurts V:  Broken

Author:  bizzzichick@yahoo.com  (Satina)

Website:  http://www.angelfire.com/scifi/xtasy

Rating:  NC-17 for graphic violence and nonconsensual sexual
activity

WARNING:  The noncon sex is pretty mild, but there's a lot of
blood here.  Be prepared.  No one you give a damn about dies,
though. What am I, Chris Carter?

Keywords:  M/K, K/O, M/O

Disclaimer:  I might be willing to deal if I see the boys together
in the finale.  Maybe.  Try me.

Summary:  Mulder and Krycek each face their own hell.

Archive:  I used to give it all away to everyone, but after getting
burned, I'd appreciate it if you asked first.  Yes in advance to
any list it's posted on.

Spoilers:  No.

Feedback:  It keeps me going on the bad days and makes me
loopy on the good ones.  And it keeps the fic-fountain flowing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I woke up strapped down to a bed in four-point restraints with
the taste of vodka, vomit, and blood in my mouth.  The light was
bright to the point of pain, and my eyes squinted, trying in vain
to adjust to the point where I could see.  I blinked, seeing
nothing but white, and made myself breathe slowly and deeply
so as not to panic.  The room finally came into some focus and
I squinted and turned my head to the side to get my bearings.

It was a large, empty white room.  I appeared to be the only
thing in it.  Me and this bed and that fucking light right over it. I
tested the strength of my bonds one at a time and determined
that they were unfailingly tight and securely buckled and locked.
I felt my heart begin to pound as the panic started washing over
me, and I closed my eyes and pretended that I had chosen this
position and could move at any time.  I just didn't want to.  It
was a trick I'd learned during my first stays in the psych ward
as a kid.

My first trip to the loony bin had been at age 13 for telephone
fraud.  I was quite proud of that one.  I'd figured out how to rig
the pay phone at our favorite convenience store so that you
could make free calls.  The cops and phone company didn't see
it as quite the wonderful gift that my friends did, so I was taken
to juvy hall.  While there, I was given a battery of tests, and lo
and behold, it was determined that little Alex had psychological
problems.

Well no fucking shit.  You would too, if you had the father I did.
They took me away to the adolescent psychiatric hospital, and I
thought my dad was gonna shit a brick when they told him it
would cost over a thousand dollars a day to keep me there.  I
decided it was gonna take me a long, long time to get better.

That first time was the best time, really.  It only took a few
weeks to learn a whole shitload of new tricks.  I practically
burned the fucking place down trying to make LSD with orange
peels in my room.  But right now, I was trying to remember a
trick I'd never been able to master but had seen performed
countless times.

Jack Ankerman could get out of four-point restraints and start
masturbating within ten minutes of being put in the quiet room.
He was the only one who could do it, and when you asked him
how, he just gave you that same crazy look he gave you all the
time.  Now that guy was a fuckin' fruitcake. He was in there for
cracking a guy's skull open on a sidewalk. I guess he got him
down and just smashed his face into the cement over and over
and over until someone called the police and they hauled him
off.  I don't know if the guy he attacked lived or died, and I don't
know why he did it.  Jack just gave you that look when you
asked him.  He was fifteen and claimed to be a Satanist.
Personally, I don't think he had enough brains to be a Satanist,
but it's true that he got away with a hell of a lot more shit than
anyone else on the unit, so maybe he had some kinda dark mojo
after all.

They'd call a 'Dr. Armstrong' and we'd all look around to see
who was missing from the ranks.  About half the time it was
Jack.  The whole staff would have to help them get him to the
room and restrained, and they'd come out splattered with spit
and sometimes urine.  Then about ten minutes would pass, and
you'd see a flurry of activity as the nurse hurried in with a loaded
hypo.  Jack was out of the restraints and painting the walls with
his cum again.

We were all scared shitless of Jack, but you had to admire the
guy.  I'd been in those restraints myself over a dozen times, and
I hadn't gotten free even once.  Never mind jacking off on the
walls.

Okay.  So Jack could do it.  He did it every time they put him in
there.  I think he did it so they'd shoot him up.  They couldn't
shoot him up unless he got free of the restraints. There was
procedure to be followed.  Protocol.  So Jack would get
restrained, then he'd get free, then he'd get off, and finally he'd
get sedated. They'd go in there and find the restraints still
buckled and locked, but Jack had gotten completely free.  He
was a big guy, too.  Big for his age.  It wasn't like he was so
skinny he worked his way free.  He was about 200 lbs. at age
fifteen.  I closed my eyes tight and tried to channel his spirit,
making my mind blank and calm.  Hell, what else did I have to
do?

I was still concentrating intently when I heard the door quietly
open.  I jerked my head up, trying to see.  A man in a white coat
was walking toward me, tapping the side of a syringe.  I began
to struggle, all the while knowing it was useless and would only
escalate my panic.  The doctor ignored me and came to stand
by my bedside.

"What the fuck is that?"

The doctor lowered the needle to my arm and I willed myself not
to scream as he pushed it in and depressed the plunger.
Whatever it was, burned through my veins, tracing its course
through my circulatory system in a trail of fire.

"Jesus!  Fuck!  What did you give me?"  To my surprise, the
doctor actually made eye contact.  He sighed and frowned.

"Mr. Cardinale is late for his appointment with you, but he just
called ahead and asked us to administer some Taganol."

He said it like I'd know what he was talking about.  I searched
my brain frantically but nothing came to mind.  "Taganol?"

Shockingly, the doctor continued to speak to me.

"Experimental, Mr. Krycek.  Heightens sensation, actually. Would
make a wonderful aphrodisiac if pleasure were the expected
stimuli," he said absently, slipping the used needle into a sharps
bag.  He didn't have to tell me what stimuli I could expect.  He'd
told me this was Cardinale's idea and that was enough for me.  I
closed my eyes and prayed the vodka would counteract some of
the drug's effect.  I heard the doctor leave the room and close
the door behind him.  I closed my eyes and tried to get back to
my calm, meditative, Jack-channeling place, but the panic was
taking over, and I soon began struggling against my bonds.

Fuck!  It suddenly felt as if the restraints were lined in rough
sandpaper, scraping my skin raw with every small move.  And I
realized that the wound in my side, which still hadn't been paid
any attention even though it was staining the sheets red, was
beginning to throb with an agony that stole my breath.

The fucking drug was working.  My head began to feel as if it
might explode, the added vodka hangover just what I didn't need,
and my bruised stomach and ribs, compliments of a certain
young, walking-dead asshole underling, were forcing small,
labored breaths from my lungs.  Breaths that were very close to
turning into sobs.  The more I tried to block it out and go away
in my head, the sharper the pain would get.  I tried to focus on a
pleasant sensation anywhere in my body, but could find none. I
decided I'd have to create one fast if I was going to make it
through this.

I thought of Mulder.  At first my heart squeezed, and I
whimpered with the pain, but then I forced myself past that into
the memories I had stored up from our precious meetings.  The
night I'd shown up to find the number upside down on the door,
and a futon waiting up against the wall, resplendent with a
naked Mulder accessory.  We hadn't even spoken, I just tore off
my own clothes and fell on him like a hungry dog, covering his
body with little marks of possession, then nearly putting a dent
in the wall as our fucking rammed the brand-new futon's frame
into it repeatedly.

A warm, wonderful tingle suffused my groin as blood began to
fill my cock.  I concentrated on that with every bit of attention I
could muster, pretending the pain I was feeling was part of
some very rough S and M play.  The restraints didn't feel quite
so bad now, and the throb in my side was the only pain really
rivaling the throb in my dick.

"Mulder..." I moaned, trying to intensify the fantasy.  It worked
as I closed my eyes and imagined him standing over me,
smirking and denying me his touch.  "Please, Mulder, touch me,"
I breathed.  I could almost see the evil twinkle in his eye as he
let me struggle and squirm, and I could almost believe that any
minute he was going to wrap those hot, plump lips around my
cock and end my agony.

"Oh God...yes...Mulder..." I writhed just slightly in my bonds, not
trying to get free now but only playing the part of the restrained
lover.  Just the slight friction against my jeans was quickly
pushing me to the peak, but I was afraid if I let myself come that
I wouldn't have my fantasy to blot out the pain.  I needn't have
worried.  All thoughts of orgasm evaporated as the door to my
room banged open and a familiar figure strode into the room.

"Krycek, you are so fucked."

Cardinale sounded inordinately pleased with his declaration, and
I felt my stomach roll as he laughed and came to stand over me.
I blinked, my eyes widening as I got a good look at him.  He
had blood crusted in his hair on one side and a large purple
bruise on his forehead.  His jaw was abraded and bruised from
chin to ear, and I noticed his clothes were smudged with dirt
and something black.

"You don't look so good, Luis."

He glared down at me, his mouth firming into a pale line.  I
breathed back my instinct to flinch away, knowing it would only
make the gleam in his eyes intensify.  He bent over me closely,
giving me a very good look at all of his injuries, then his mouth
stretched into a leering smile.

"You, on the other hand, *Alex*," he said huskily, "are looking
very good indeed."

I watched in horror as his hand raised up and he began to trace
a line down the middle of my chest.  I couldn't decide whether
the intense sensation I was feeling was pleasure or pain, but I
knew that I wanted neither at his hands.  Ignoring the pain, I
began struggling against my bonds.  In fact, I concentrated on
the new pain, using it to take my mind off the finger making its
way down my stomach now, toward my still rock-hard erection. I
closed my eyes against the growing excitement in the leering
face over me.  I yelped as his nail scratched over the head of my
cock.  I'd never felt anything as intense, and I was so close to
coming I wanted to cry.

"Liked that, did you, Alex?" he asked, leaning in and making me
feel his breath on my face.  I squeezed my eyes tight and
focused on the pain in my side.

"It's a wonderful drug, that Taganol, isn't it?" he continued,
tapping his fingers on my aching shaft as if drumming on a
table top.  "I'll bet you thought I was going to hurt you, didn't
you, Alex?" he asked, brushing his lips against mine.  I hoped he
was enjoying the smell of blood and vomit.

"And I will," he assured me, drawing back, evidently deciding I
didn't really taste that appealing after all.  "But first, I think I'll
see just how much fun you can be."  With that he gave my cock a
healthy squeeze, and I screamed as I came in my pants, my
body arching on the narrow table.  The pleasure was so intense
it was pain, made agony by the increased friction on my wrists
and ankles as well as the stretching of the wound in my side. My
body slowly relaxed down onto the thin mattress, trembling
fiercely.  Cardinale laughed breathlessly.

"Good show, Alex," he sneered.  "How long do you think before
you might be able to do that again?"

I couldn't help but whimper at the thought of him touching my
just-orgasmed cock, fearing the intensified sensation might
make me scream.

"What's the matter, Alex?  You don't want my love?"

I waited, eyes closed, but nothing happened.  Finally, I had to
see what he was doing.  I couldn't feel his hands anywhere on
me, and I was afraid that the shock of his touch in an
unexpected place might make me scream again.  I didn't want to
give him the satisfaction.  I opened my eyes to see his hand
hovering over my still-hard, sticky crotch, his eyes wide and
expectant.

"Pleasure or pain?" he asked calmly.  I ground my teeth together,
and even that sent shocks of pain through my jaw.  Oh God.
How could I give him an answer?  What would he do if I didn't?  I
got part of my answer as he withdrew a blade from his pocket.
He brought it to my chest and lowered the point to just below
the hollow in my throat.  I was cold and shaking voilently now
and hating myself for it.

"Choose, Alex, or I'll play my own games."

I closed my eyes and wondered how much shame I could endure
before I did something to get myself killed.  Then I realized he'd
never kill me, just bring me so close I'd wish he could.

"P-pleasure," I rasped out.

"What was that?"  He leaned in, putting his ear next to my lips.

I swallowed.  "Pleasure."

"Ahhhhh Alex," he sighed.  "You want me as much as I want you.
How nice."  I felt the knife leave my throat and couldn't stop the
quiet sigh of relief.  Then I felt his hand sliding down my
abdomen, and my whole body tensed.

"I heard you, Alex,"  he practically purred.  I ignored him, trying
to ready myself for the nauseating touch I knew was coming.

"Moaning for your lover," he mocked.  "It seemed to make things
much easier for you."  I said nothing, eyes open and staring at a
point just beyond his head.

"Do you know that I have permanent nerve damage in this arm?"
he said, suddenly changing the subject.  I averted my gaze, but
he moved his face in front of mine, forcing me to look at him.
His brown eyes flashed with rage, and I swallowed hard.

"See the scar?" he said, taking his hand away from my body and
pushing his sleeve up.  There was a thick pink ridge in the center
of his arm on both the back and the front.  I almost let my lips
twitch in a smile, remembering how he'd gotten that.  But I'm not
that stupid.

"It's amazing how many nerve endings are in that part of the
arm," he said in a conversational tone, arranging his sleeve back
down over his arm.  Then he placed his fingernail against the
inside of my arm just above the restraints, and my body went
rigid.

"I'm not allowed to do anything that will cause permanent
damage," he gritted out, obviously very put out by his orders.
"But with this wonderful pharmaceutical, I can make it feel
damned close."  He dug his nail in and raked it up the inside of
my arm.  I could have sworn he was laying it open, the pain
burning white hot all the way up to my shoulder, bringing tears
to my eyes and a scream to my throat.  He laughed again and
rested his hand on my stomach, waiting for me to stop
hyperventilating.

"Need something to take your mind off that?" he asked,
beginnging to move his hand in circles.  In spite of myself, I felt
my cock twitching in my cold, sticky pants, and I was almost
grateful for the distraction, just as he'd said.  I didn't say
anything, but I admit I started praying he'd jerk me off again so I
could get away from the searing pain in my arm, if only for a
moment.

His hand moved down over my erection and gave it a rough
squeeze, and I gasped, my eyes flying open as my hips
traitorously raised up to meet his touch.  He chuckled and
stroked his hand up and down the length of my cock through my
jeans.  I whimpered, the sensation bringing me so quickly to the
edge again that my balls were already tight against my body. He
withdrew his hand completely, and I was thoroughly embarassed
to hear myself whine.

"Awww...poor Alex.  You need to come, don't you?  Well, I know
what will make it easy for you."  He leaned over me again, and
my whole face twisted with the effort of not begging him to get
me off.

"Pretend I'm your sweet little Fox," he whispered, his face just
inches from mine.  I panted my rancid breath in his face and he
grimaced and pulled back.  "Say it!" he snapped, whipping the
blade out and putting it to my throat.  The threat didn't mean as
much now that I knew he couldn't kill or permanently maim me. I
pressed my lips together in a tight line.  His eyes narrowed as
he realized his limitation, then a smile curved his lips and I
almost sobbed.  This couldn't be good.  He put the blade away,
then, leaving one hand resting on my thigh right next to my
achingly ready cock, he started stroking across my chest with
the other one.  Down toward the wound in my side.  I began to
tremble and whimper as he got closer and closer.

"Moan for your Fox, you little piece of shit," he said, his fingers
tracing around the ragged edge, the pain from just that making
me flinch violently, aggravating the wound myself.

"Muh...Mulder..." I said very quietly, feeling my gut revolt.

"Louder," Cardinale ordered.  His finger started to brush over the
wound and I gasped.

"Mulder!...Oh God, Mulder!"  It sounded like a sob to me, but
Cardinale was evidently pleased because he took his hand away
from my side and lowered his hand onto my cock again.  His
touch burned me and I felt myself surge into his hand.

"One more time should do it, don't you think?"

I squeezed my eyes tight and pictured myself calling for his
help, trying desperately not to let myself think about how, after
what I did to him, he would probably laugh and watch the fun if
he were really here.

"Mulder!  Please!  God!  Mulder!"  Cardinale rubbed briskly
through my jeans and I came again, hard and painfully, the tears
streaming down my face and running into my ears.

"Oh God that was *good*!" crowed Cardinale with a guffaw of
laughter.  I heard the sound of a zipper being lowered and had
just enough clarity to know it wasn't mine.

"My turn now," said Cardinale, stepping up closer to the bed.  I
closed my eyes and prayed for a blackout as I heard the sound
of flesh against flesh begin.

..............................

I was marched between the two guards, down a long white hall
and into a small room.  The only thing there was a television set.
There wasn't even a chair, just four walls, hard, stark white
linoleum, and a large 27-inch screen just out of reach, bolted to
the wall.  They shoved me into the room, and I narrowly avoided
falling on my face as they slammed the door behind me.  It was
without a handle and set flush to the walls, and the impression
was that there was no way out of the small white box.  The room
was about the size of an average elevator, so I had breathing
room, but try to tell my hammering heart that.  Mind over matter,
Mulder, I told myself repeatedly.  You are not claustrophobic.

I palmed the walls, trying to stay calm, but jumped as I saw the
set flicker on and heard the rush of white noise fill the room.  I
looked up at the set and my mouth fell open.

"Alex!"

I said it aloud as if he could hear me, but he just lay there on the
table, eyes closed, not moving.  Blood dripped from the side of
his small, low hospital cot, and from the bird's eye vantage
point, I could see that it was coming from low down on his right
side.  The set wasn't low enough that I could touch it, but still
had to stifle my urge to reach up and try to run my hands over
the image on the screen.  I could just make out the rise and fall
of his ribcage and comforted myself with evidence that he was
still alive.

Alex began to move, writhing in his restraints, then his grunts of
pain filled the room as he jerked and hissed, then finally fell still,
panting hard.  I listened to his breaths echo in the empty room,
and I found my own breaths coming at a tempo to match.  Then
I froze as I heard his voice.

"Mulder..."

I gasped.  Was that pleasure in his low rasp?  It could have been
pain, or a call for help, but as he continued, that possibility
seemed less and less likely, and I felt myself get hard in spite of
myself.

"Please, Mulder, touch me..."

Well, that was definitely a cry for help, but not the kind I was
expecting.  My cock swelled in my jeans, and my hands tingled,
wanting to be on it.

"Oh God...Yes...Mulder..."  His body arched on the bed, his own
erection obvious in the stark light.  My hand started moving
toward my crotch even as my eyes narrowed in shocked
confusion, then it jerked back as an all-too-familiar figure
entered the room.

Oh God, no.  I could see the evidence of Scully's handiwork on
his face, head, neck, shoulders and clothes, and I couldn't help
but smile faintly.  It faded as I watched him put his hands on my
lover's body.  I could only watch, stunned and slack-jawed, as
Alex came with a scream at this man's touch.

Then the screen went blank.

"NO!"  I screamed at the television, tears scraping my throat raw.
Why did he come at Cardinale's touch?  Did he think of me while
that animal touched him?  God, it made me sick to think of it.  I
didn't want to let myself feel disgust at having my memory being
used like that, but it was difficult as the images played over and
over in my mind, Alex arching and undulating under that fucking
animal's hand.  I wanted him to be able to endure, but the
nausea was overwhelming, and I sank to the floor on my knees,
my head in my hands.

When the door opened up behind me, I looked up just in time to
see the two guards enter.  They grabbed me and held me in
place while a syringe was emptied into my arm.  Then the white
room swirled into darkness.

..................................

end of 1/2

part 2/2

..................................

I woke stunned and relieved to find I was no longer restrained. I
sat up quickly, wincing at the pain in my side, grabbing it with
hands that were blessedly free.  I hadn't bled to death yet,
dammit.  I guessed the wound wasn't quite big or deep enough
for that.  Just enough to make a hell of a mess and hurt like a
son of a bitch.  I did note that my body's sensory responses
seemed to be back to their normal level, the scratch on my arm
only faintly burning.  My cock was a shriveled, aching lump in
my soaked jeans.  I felt shame warm my face, but shook it off
and cased my surroundings.

I was in a small white room.  A box, more like.  And there was
something in there with me this time.  A TV.  I frowned and
looked up the black screen, scooting my way back up against
the wall to lean against it and recover my strength for the next
round.

Then the screen flickered to life.

"Mulder!"  I called out, scrambling to my feet despite my injuries.
He was lying strapped to a narrow bed, in a room just like my
previous one.  There was blood all down one side of the bed,
and I panicked before realizing it was my own.  That *was* my
room and my bed on the screen.  And that was Mulder, in my
restraints.

"You motherfuckers!" I screamed, my voice ragged from all the
screaming I'd already done.  "We had a deal!"  I sobbed and
pounded on the walls, smearing them with my blood.  I roared
uselessly as the tears streamed hot down my cheeks.

It was all for nothing!  I'd broken his trust, his heart and
probably his mind for nothing!  They'd gotten him anyway!  The
rage I felt was even frightening to me.  My whole body shook
with it, and it felt like my heart was going to shoot out of my
chest, exploding in a gory mess.  I made myself rigid, reigning
in the rage, trying to focus it on something productive.  My
whole body stilled as I realized I now had abso-fucking-lutely
*nothing* to lose anymore. Someone would have to come for
me, and when they did, it was no holds barred.  I'd rip their
hearts out with my fingernails if I had to but I was going to get
to Mulder.

I stared up at the screen, my nails cutting bloody gouges into
my palms.  Then I watched Cardinale walk into the room.

Mulder was still unconscious, and for that I was grateful as
Cardinale stepped up to him, lips pulled up in a leering smile.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you.  I'm gonna fucking kill you.  I'm
gonna fucking kill you."  At first I didn't realize I was saying it
out loud, and even when I did, I only gave it a moment's
attention before focusing back in on the screen, chanting my
new mantra. Cardinale's hand reached out toward Mulder's groin
and I felt my body begin to shake again.  Cardinale looked up
and straight into the camera, licking his lips.

I went into a white rage, jumping at the screen which was bolted
to the wall just out of my reach.  I looked around frantically, but
of course there was nothing else in the room.  Then I looked
down and felt a maniacal grin stretch my face.

They'd left me my boots.  The stupid, arrogant fuckers had left
my boots on.  I dropped down on the floor and tugged the laces
free, sparing a glance to the screenn against all better
judgement.  Cardinale's hand was resting on Mulder's crotch
now, and he idly stroked it while looking into the camera. I tore
my eyes away and gave all of my attention to getting my steel-
toed workboots off.

I unlaced them and yanked them off my feet, then tied them both
together with a little over a foot of lacing in between them. They
made a very clumsy, but very heavy set of nunchuks.  I felt my
lip curl up in a grimace, imagining the wet crunching sound of
Cardinale's skull caving as I bludgeoned him with them.  I took a
good grip on the middle of the laces and looked one last time
up at the screen.  Cardinale was squeezing Mulder's growing
erection, and as I watched, horrified, Mulder began to moan and
come awake.

I swung the boots with every bit of enraged strength I could
gather, breaking the casing on the side of the set.  I ignored the
sounds of Cardinale laughing and Mulder's protests as I swung
again and again, beating in the side of the set, until finally with
an impressive show of sparks, the damned thing went black.  I
continued to swing and swing, letting my rage turn me into a
weapon of destruction as the set fell in pieces at my feet.

Pieces.  Sharp, broken pieces.  I stopped swinging the boots
and panted, looking down at all the new weapons I'd just
created.  Wires to be used for strangling.  Shards to be used for
cutting and stabbing.  Then there was always my improv
nunchuks for bludgeoning.  I began gathering up my arsenal
and securing it on my body.

I figured it wouldn't be long now.  They had to know that their
set was malfunctioning.  There might have even been a camera
in the set.  There was nowhere else for one to be hidden, so that
was the most likely place they would have put it.  So they'd likely
seen the beginning of my rampage and were probably sending
people down right now.  I hurriedly tucked things in every place
I could think of, noting the possible uses of each as I did.

When I'd gotten everything I could possibly need from the
debris at my feet, I sealed my ear to the door, listening.

Footsteps.  Rapid but not running, and it didn't sound like there
were more than two.  Hardly a challenge at all, given my
advantage of berserker rage and surprise.  I grinned and
stepped away from the door.  I didn't know what side it would
open on, because there was no handle, so I stepped far enough
back that I'd be ready for them no matter what side they
appeared on.

My body was a strung bow, my pain forgotten, every molecule
focused on murder.  The door pushed open and I felt giddy with
excitement, but waited until the guard had come almost all the
way in.  Then I struck.

I lunged forward, a long shard of plastic held in one hand, boots
in the other, and drove my makeshift dagger into his throat on
the first try.  He staggered back into his partner and fell to the
floor, very conveniently lodging the door open with his body.  It
was almost too easy.  I grabbed the gun from his twitching arms
and first blew the brains out of his partner's head, then pointed
the muzzle down and splattered his face, wiping the blood out of
my eyes with my free hand.

I was pretty familiar with Base Three.  Moreso than I was
supposed to be, due to the maps on the DAT.  I was pretty sure
I knew where Mulder was being held.  I swiped again through the
blood on my face, wiping my hands on my pants as I stepped
over the bodies and headed for the ward.

It wasn't far away.  Not far away at all.  In fact, Cardinale had
probably heard the short round of shots being fired as I took
out my captors.  I grinned, feeling very joyful about the fact that
they'd placed the 'observation room' just a few doors down from
the 'interrogation room.'  I didn't even encounter any resistance
as I ran down the white hall and slammed my way in.

Cardinale had Mulder's pants open and he looked up, frozen,
Mulder's dick gripped in his hand.

"Take. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Him."  I didn't yell it, but even I
could feel the barely controlled murderous energy behind my
hoarse, grating voice. Cardinale let go of Mulder with a gasp and
started backing up against the wall.

"Alex!  Oh my God!  You're...you're alive!"

I couldn't spare Mulder a glance as much as I wanted to.  I knew
we only had a matter of minutes before they found us, and I
wasn't through with Cardinale.  I stepped over to the cot and
started pulling at Mulder's bonds, but they were padlocked shut.

"Put that fucking knife on the floor and kick it over here, you
piece of shit," I growled.  Cardinale reached into his pocket, and
I could tell he was considering throwing it instead.  I leveled the
muzzle right at his left eye.  His hand was shaking as he
dropped the knife and gave it a kick.  I stopped it with my foot,
then pushed Mulder's cot aside so I wouldn't lose sight of
Carndinale as I bent to retrieve it.

Mulder was talking to me, but I couldn't hear him over the blood
rushing in my ears.  I carefully picked up the knife off the floor
and stepped over to Mulder.  I had to look at him for small
snatches as I cut his right wrist free of the thick strap.  I looked
from him to Cardinale and back as the sharp little blade sawed
through the leather.  Finally, I felt the strap give, and Mulder
pulled his arm free with a loud breath.  I put the knife in his hand
and turned my attention back to Cardinale.

"Get up against the door."  I figured he'd make a good blockade
for when they decided to come through, then at least enough of
a speed bump to give me time to shoot whomever was coming
in. I checked the rounds left in the gun and found I had plenty
enough to take out about a half dozen guys.  But we needed to
get moving before they could muster up more.

"You free?" I said tersely.

"Yeah," Mulder answered, swinging his legs over the side of the
cot and standing up.  I glanced over long enough to see that his
pants were fastened.  The only blood on him appeared to be
mine.  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the length of wire
from the television.  "Tie his hands behind his back."  He took
the wire and started toward Cardinale.  "Tight," I added,
remembering the sharp sting of piano wire slicing into my
wrists.

"Turn around," Mulder ordered, and Cardinale faced the wall.
Mulder quickly bound his wrists, and Cardinale gasped as he
pulled the wires tight.  I heard multiple boots pounding on the
linoleum outside.

"Okay.  Here's what we do.  We're damned close to the elevator."

Mulder nodded.

"We just have to get past the ones they send out first, and that
shouldn't be more than four.  They always underestimate me."  I
smiled.

Mulder spun Cardinale away from the wall, stepping in behind
him, holding him by the upper arms.  I went over and grabbed
him away, shoving him in front of me.

"Luis, you will be going first.  Mulder, you stay behind me. Either
they'll avoid shooting because of Cardinale, or he'll act as a
temporary shield.  Either way I should have time enough to
shoot at least two of them while you run down the hall.  I'll cover
you and join you as soon as I can get 'em off our ass."

"I'm not leaving without you."

I turned, confusion in my eyes.

"I know everything, Alex.  I know you did it to save me.  I know it
was all a lie."

I felt the rage draining as relief and joy took its place, but I
shook myself free of the pleasant wave and focused on my
anger instead.

"I'm glad, Mulder.  Now go.  I'll be right behind you.  Just get to
the elevator and press the '3'.  My car's just outside the elevator
on the third floor."

"I know.  I'm not closing the doors till you're in there with me,
though."

"Dammit, Mulder, they're here!  We have to go!  Just do as I say!
I'll be right behind you!  Just wait for me when you get there!"

We didn't have any more time to argue as the door burst open
and men began to push their way into the room.  I fired, and
blood and brains sprayed over the white walls and floor as I
took out the first one.  I felt the impact as bullets sank into
Cardinale's body and then felt one as it zinged through him and
into my leg.  I used the pain as a focal point and plowed into the
next man, cutting him down as Cardinale slumped to the floor in
front me, heavy and useless.

I was more pissed about losing my chance to torture him than I
was about losing my human shield, but I leaned over and threw
the downed guard's weapon behind me to Mulder as I fired from
a crouch, taking out the knees of one very surprised thug.  He
fell down as if he'd forgotten to say his prayers, his gun falling
forward from his outstretched hands like an offering.  I took it,
and now I had a gun in each hand.  I felt the rush for a only a
moment before I felt the cold, hard tip of an automatic rifle
shove into the side of my throat.

"Get up, Krycek," barked the last standing thug, jamming the
muzzle into my neck painfully.  Just as I started to rise to my
feet, planning to take him out with my bare hands if need be, I
watched his face explode, and he fell back against the far wall.  I
stood and looked behind me, and Mulder lowered the rifle from
his shoulder.

"Let's go."

I nodded and stepped over the last body, sprinting for the
elevator, sliding in the blood in my bare feet.  Mulder was right
behind me and I spun around and jammed my finger against the
button over and over until the doors finally closed.  I breathed a
deep sigh of relief as it began its ascent.  It went a short
distance then jerked to a stop, but I was prepared for that and
stepped over to the keypad, entering the override code that I
wasn't supposed to have.  The elevator whirred back to life and I
thanked the gods once again for the wonderful DAT.

I glanced over at Mulder.  We weren't out of the woods yet, as
there would probably be Consortium staff waiting for us outside
the elevator doors.

"Just do whatever you have to to get to my car," I told him, my
voice cold with intent to kill.  He just nodded as the elevator
came to a stop.  We both lifted our guns to our shoulders and
waited for the doors to open.

As the heavy slabs of metal slid back, my whole body went cold..
There was a line of at least eight men in riot gear, all of them
holding weapons trained on us.  We froze, still inside the
elevator, guns raised.  They weren't shooting.  This was good.
They must not have orders to shoot to kill, despite our bloody
escape.  I knew Mulder was valuable to them and figured his
presence was keeping us alive.  I glanced over to him and he
glanced back, but we didn't lower our weapons.

"Put 'em down!" yelled one of the soldiers.  I looked at Mulder
again, and he gave me an imperceptible nod and began lowering
his gun.  He used the allowed motion of his disamament to
reach over and jab the button on the wall, and the elevator doors
slid closed, just barely in time to shut out the wide-eyed
soldiers.

"My car's on the ground level and Skinner's there," said Mulder.

"This lets out *in* the hospital, Mulder!  There'll be even more
soldiers ready for us up there!  There's no way we're getting out
of here!"

He reached over and pressed the emergency stop button,
freezing us between floors.  Yes, this gave us time to think, but I
could see no way past the line of soldiers I knew would meet us
in the hospital lobby.  This time they might not be so hesitant to
use their guns.

Mulder reached into the front of his pants, and my brows shot
up.

"What the--"

I snapped my mouth shut as he withdrew a cell phone.

"What the--" I said again, and he smiled.

"It's yours.  They got mine, but when they grabbed me, I shoved
this down my pants.  I wasn't about to lose it.  I didn't know if
I'd ever see you again."

I stared at him, stunned, as he punched in some numbers.

"But,"  I said, and he calmly lifted his finger to shush me.

"Sir it's Agent Mulder.  Yes, yes, I have him, and we're all right,
but we're trapped in the elevator."

I stared at him open-mouthed.

"The lobby floor, I think.  That's the button I pushed.  Okay, we'll
wait here for your call.  It's Alex's phone, sir.  Hang on.  What's
your number, Alex?"

I blinked.  "Uh 555-9086."

"555-9086.  Yeah, that's it.  Okay, we'll be here."

He ended the call and lowered the phone.

"Mulder..."

"Hmmm?"

"You had my phone down your pants?"

"Yep."

I blinked again, then felt my face grow warm.  "But, I saw you,
Mulder.  On the TV.  Cardinale..."

Mulder's eyes narrowed, his jaw tense.  "I was lucky.  He hadn't
gotten very far when you arrived.  He only...touched my..."

I nodded quickly, saving us both the nausea.  "Well, fuck, Mulder.
Nice going.  So, now what?"

"Now we wait for the police, who will come in and neutralize the
threat.  As long as they don't do anything stupid, it should go
smoothly.  Just DC's finest providing an escort for an FBI agent
and a dangerous suspect."

"Suspect."

"Yeah."

I looked at him and frowned.

"Skinner knows everything, Alex."

My brows arched.

"Well, not everything," he amended with a grin.  "He knows we're
working together.  He knows about the DAT."

"So...I'm not gonna be arrested?"  I said quietly.

"You're not gonna be arrested," confirmed Mulder with a big
smile.  I couldn't help but smile in return, then I became serious
again.

"Mulder, I'm so sorry..."  I felt my throat close, the rage gone, my
body exhausted and on the edge of physical and emotional
collapse.

"Hey...I know, Alex.  I know."

"So you...you know I still love you?" I squeaked, instantly
embarassed at the sound.

"Yes," he said softly, stepping closer.  Just having him near me
made me feel better, made my body feel like it could go on just
a little bit longer.  What he said next made me feel like I could
leap tall buildings.

"And I still love you, Alex.  So much.  So much."  He leaned in
and slid his hand up the back of my neck, pulling my face in for
a kiss.  When our lips met, I found myself letting out a quiet sob
against his mouth, and it opened and he swallowed it down with
a soft grunt.  And suddenly were kissing and holding each other,
guns hanging at our sides, my hand smearing blood all over his
face as I held it in place, apologizing and speaking my love
silently with my lips and tongue.

We were startled by the annoying chirp of my cell phone. Mulder
pulled back, grinning.  "You wanna get it?  It's your phone."

I grinned back.  "I'm just the suspect, though.  Besides, you
pulled that out of your pants!"

He laughed and pressed the Talk button.  "Mulder.  Okay, we're
on our way.  Thank you, sir."  He ended the call and slid the
phone into his pants pocket.  I opened my mouth to say
something, and he gave me warning look.  I shut my mouth and
looked innocent.  He reached over and reactivated the elevator.

We rode silently up to the lobby, and I could feel the tension in
the air.  I trusted Mulder, certainly, and he trusted Skinner, but it
was still hard to believe we were gonna walk out of here alive
without a fight.

"Oh, maybe you'd better put down your gun," said Mulder,
gesturing to my weapon.  Did he know what he was asking me
to do?  Give up my one chance to defend myself should there
not be a *friendly* armed escort waiting for us?  I looked at him,
gun held tightly in my hand.

"It's okay, Alex.  If Skinner says they're there, then they are.  The
police think you're a suspect, and you're covered with blood
from head to foot.  You need to put down your gun and put your
hands behind your head, just until we get into the car."

I knew it was true, but I didn't like it.  Not at all.  It felt like the
old Mulder and Krycek, and it was damned hard for me to get
rid of the image of Mulder walking me over to the police and
then smiling as they cuffed me.  I felt physically ill, and it wasn't
because of my bruised stomach and ribs, or the virtual rape I'd
experienced, or even the stab wound in my side.  My body did
*not* want to get into this extraordinarily evocative position.

But I did it.

I laid my gun at Mulder's feet and straightened up, arms
trembling as I laced my fingers behind my head.  I'd never felt
this vulnerable, even when Cardinale was molesting me as I
struggled in restraints.  Before it was only my body in danger.
This was my mind and soul.

"Hey, you okay?"

I didn't get the chance to answer as the doors slid open.  Mulder
stepped in behind me quickly, nudging my back with the muzzle
of his gun very gently.  I made a choking sound and stumbled
forward.  The lobby was full of cops, all of them with drawn
weapons, over a dozen beads on me, tracing my steps as I
shuffled through the lobby.  No one came forward, and Mulder
just continued walking me through the lobby, the police officers
closing in behind us in a wave of dark blue.  I struggled to
breathe as Skinner came forward, holding out a pair of cuffs.

We were still surrounded by police officers in the parking lot,
and Mulder took the cuffs and lowered my arms, very carefully
fastening my wrists behind my back.  Then he led me over to the
sedan Skinner had stepped out of and put his hands on my head
to help me get in before climbing in behind me.  I was almost in
tears as the door shut behind us.  He must have seen what this
was doing to me, because he reached over and began stroking
his hand up and down my arm impatiently as Skinner wrapped
things up.

Finally, Skinner got into the car and started it, and Mulder
pushed me forward slightly and immediately unlocked the cuffs,
removing them gently.  He held my near wrist as he brought it
around in front, and he leaned in and spoke in my ear.

"I love you."

I felt my whole body sag.  We were free.  The danger was over,
at least for now.  Mulder was not putting me under arrest, and
more importantly, he still loved me.  I started to shiver slightly,
the adrenaline rush wearing off.

"Shh...don't say anything, Alex.  Skinner doesn't know about *us*
yet.  Scully's going to meet us at my apartment, then we'll drive
out of town and go to a hospital.  I don't want to freak Skinner
out, so until we're alone, let's keep it between us."

I nodded, swallowing back the childish hurt at not being able to
just fall into his arms.  I was so tired, and so raw, and all of my
many pains had begun to make themselves known.  I
straightened up and stared straight ahead as we drove to his
apartment.  His hand was resting on the seat between us, and
he stroked his fingers against my thigh, glancing over from time
to time.  It helped.  It helped a lot.

By the time we pulled up in front of the building, I was half
asleep sitting up, the adrenaline having completely worn off, and
the blood loss and affereffects of both my ordeal and the drug
wiping me out completely.  The car stopped and I vaguely noted
another sitting at the curb, idling.

"We're here," said Mulder.  "Now just go straight to Scully's car."

I nodded and he opened the door and got out.  I tried to get my
body to cooperate, I really did, but I could only stare at him,
leaning back in the seat, breathing shallowly.

"Alex?  Are you okay?"

I opened my mouth to say 'fine,' but that would have been really
stupid considering I wasn't getting out of the car.  I just shook
my head, closing my eyes.  A moment later I felt my door being
opened and Mulder leaned in grabbed me around the chest.

"Come on, Alex.  We just have to get to the car.  You can lie
down in the back.  I'll even let you put your head in my lap."

I managed to grin at that and summoned my last bit of strength
to pull myself to stand with Mulder's help.  I leaned in and
breathed him in, letting his smell and touch give me strength
enough to walk the few steps over to the other car, then I felt
myself being lowered into the back seat.  I fell against it with a
groan.  Mulder climbed in the other side and I felt strong, warm
arms wrap around me and pull me down.  I fell into his lap with
a sigh, shivering as Mulder's fingers stroked through my hair,
lulling me into sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

bizzzichick@yahoo.com