~~~

If this had been another time, another place, I most surely would have jumped at the chance being presented to me.  However, those days are over.  There’s no longer a threat from this man.  If there ever had been one.  No matter how much I may have hated him in the past, I can’t kill him now.  Especially not now.  Not after I know the truth.

Perceptive to the fact that Scully, even in death, would never forgive me if I did as asked of him, I’m shocked, yet again, to find my heart actually going out to the man seated on the bed.  Instead of wanting to fulfill his request for death, I feel the anguish of Alex penetrating the air and surrounding me; encompassing me with the sudden urge to protect the younger man.  Even if it is from himself.

Therefore, I reach over and gently remove the gun from his sagging hand.  Then, removing the clip and empty the chamber, I walk over to my right and place the pieces of the weapon on the nightstand by the bed, before turning back to find him staring at me.  Staggered, I know I should say something, but am not quite sure what.

“Alex.”  Melissa says softly, to my relief, as she takes a seat next to the distraught man.  “We know you’re hurting.  Please, let us help you.”  She begs, and I can see her own heart breaking at having witnessed his emotionally charged outburst.

“You can’t help me, Missy.”  He states quietly, as he lies back, defeated; placing one arm behind his head and the other, still clenching the ring, onto his chest.  He starts shaking and rolls to his side, away from her-from us-grabbing Scully’s pillow with him into a fetal position; no longer caring about who may or may not see him.

He just wants to die.

He.  Simply.  Wants.  To.  Die.

But there is no way in Hell that I’m about to let that happen.  Not on my watch.

I silently observe; suffering my own agony, as my wife aches for him.  She begins rubbing his back through his jacket, while looking up at me fearfully; inquiring with her eyes as to what we should do next.

I simply gaze at them, unable to describe the odd feeling that comes over me.  To realize that this “Bad Boy”, this…assassin, this…Secret-Agent of the C. I. fucking A. has turned into nothing more, than a pitiful mass of flesh, blood and bone.  Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would witness this.

Though I truly understand the pain that he is feeling, and I actually find my heart going out to him, I know that this will not do.  If we’re to achieve what must be done, I need to have the “Bad Boy” back.  The asshole I had thought Alex Krycek to be-however erroneously over the course of the past several years-must return.

Thus, I, being a psychologist, as well as an agent for the FBI, suddenly understand that I have to try a different approach than that of the caring attitude of my wife.

Tough love.

“Alex, get your sorry ass off that bed!  Now!”  I shout in my most authoritative voice, as I cringe on the inside.

“Fox!”  Missy admonishes, as she looks up at me incredulously.

“Fuck you Mulder.”  He replies, muffled by the pillow.  I can see from the way he tucks his head against it that he is wishing we would just go away and leave him the hell alone.  I watch him warily, as he breathes in deeply, inhaling the scent of his dead almost-wife, before breaking into sobs.

My heart lurches at the sound, but I continue on, knowing that I must break through to him.  “No!  Fuck you!  I did not spend six hours last night listening to the shock-story of my life, just so that I could simply come over here and watch as you turn into a worthless bowl of God damn Jell-O!  Get your punk ass up this instant!”  I yell, while on the inside my guts are shredding.  Jesus, he really did love her!  I have been such an asshole!

“Fox William Mulder!”  Melissa barks, looking up at me as if seeing me for the first time.  “What the hell are you doing?  Can’t you see he is in pain?!”

“Yes.  I see it.  So what?  We are all in pain.”  I reply, trying to keep from looking at her straight in the face, for fear she will identify what I’m actually trying to do.  What I’m actually feeling.  I don’t want her to know how much this is suddenly killing me; watching Alex fall apart.  That, for some reason completely alien to me, I am starting to care-again-about my former partner.  I’m fearful she won’t believe what she would see.  Hence, I must hide it from her, particularly if I’m going to succeed in getting through to Alex.

Maybe I care, because I have never seen him this way.  Because I have only seen him, for so long, as a Ratbastard.  Not as someone who, in fact, actually gives a damn about anyone aside from himself.

Realizing that I’m probably making one of the stupidest mistakes of my life, I lean down, and gently remove my wife out of the way, much to her distress.  I then place my arms under and around the bulk of Alex’s upper body, and pull.

“Come on Alex, God damn it!  Get the fuck up!”  I demand, straining against the man’s weight while trying to regain my balance.  “Now!  Scully needs us!”

The mention of her name seems to do the trick, as Alex starts screaming and fighting me off.

“Mulder let me go!  You fucking prick!  What the hell do you care?  Leave me the fuck alone!”

He sits up swiftly, throwing me off of him, and to the floor, where I land on my ass.  He turns to glare at me, shooting fire from his tear-filled eyes, and I bite my lower lip to keep from grinning in triumph.  Yes, get pissed!  Come on, Alex!  Show me what you’ve got!

“I told you to leave me be!  Go!  Get the fuck out of my house!  Both of you!  Just fucking leave!”

I watch in stunned awe, as he seems to wilt before my eyes, as he places the prized ring onto his left pinky and bends, thrusting his head into his hands.  “Just go.  I want to be left alone.”  He then asserts, muffled, crying once more.

“Alex?  Please?”  Melissa entreats, sending me a glare, before squatting next to him on the floor; running her hand through his hair like she would to comfort a child.

To my continued dismay, he trembles as he says, “Missy.  This was a mistake.  You should never have told him.  I just want to be left alone.  Go.  Please.  Please.”

He continues to beg, but I’ve had about enough as I can stomach.  “Well, Alex, she did tell me, and now I’m here.  So, unless you want me to really kick your ass, just for the sheer pleasure of it, I suggest you get your shit together and start talking.”  I stress, getting back to my feet to lean against the wall next to the bathroom door.  “I have heard the story from Mel, but now I want to hear it from you.”

“I do not want to talk to you, Mulder.  Get out.”  He replies, quietly.  “I’m too tired to deal with this shit.”

“Mel, would you please make some coffee?”  I softly ask my wife, while never taking my eyes off of Alex.

Wanting to stay and comfort her sister’s love, yet understanding that I am trying my best to help, she stands, hesitantly, but agrees.  “Yes.”  She then makes her way toward the bedroom door, reaching out to touch my hand, as she passes.

I look down at her pretty face, and she finally notices the unshed tears hanging on the rims of my eyelids.  She quietly gasps, realizing that I really do care.  Swiftly, she turns away and walks out, toward the kitchen.

“Nice to see that some things haven’t changed.”  Alex quietly quips, and I turn to catch him staring at the floor through his tears.

“Oh?”  I ask, as calmly as I can, still unaware as to how to not only control my own emotions, but also how to approach the distraught man seated before me.

“You still don’t listen to anyone.”  He retorts, raising his head to finally gaze at me-his perceived adversary.  I can see the moment he is taken aback at the tears now falling freely down my face, because he actually flinches.

“No.  There is one person I listen to, Alex; otherwise, I would not be here in the first place.”  I answer, moving away from the wall and taking a seat next to him, on his left.

I note with a sense of irony that Alex does not flinch as I sit down.  He simply turns his head back to stare at the beige plush carpeting, calculating how fast it would take him to get passed me, put his gun back together, and simply get it the hell over with.  I, meanwhile, take this time to ask for something that completely stuns him out of his morbid thinking, as I had hoped it would.

“May I take a look at her ring?”

Alex whips his head up to look at me; the shock clearly written on his face.

“What?”  He softly chokes out.  His husky voice almost inaudible.

“I’m sorry.  I’m not trying to be an asshole, or insensitive, or anything like that.  However, I miss her too, Alex, and the fact that she was going to get married?  Hell, the fact that she was even in a relationship, and I didn’t know about it?  It’s...?”  I pause, and shake my head in sudden embarrassment, “It has been a hard few days and an especially hard twenty-four hours.  I just...”  I stop, unable to contain the flood of tears and emotions that demand release.  “God, if I had only known!”  To my horror, I lose control and start sobbing, placing my own head into my hands.  “I just can’t believe that she didn’t trust me enough to tell me.  That I was not trustworthy enough.  Even after all that we have been through.  Jesus, if I had only known!”

~~~

I stare at him, at a loss as how to articulate the feelings that emanate, not only within me, but also to comprehend those I feel coming off of the man seated next to me.

I had known how hard it was on Dana.  No only because of her not being able to tell Mulder about her relationship with me, but I also had not realized the extent as to how much it would hurt her partner, having not known.  “It was not her Mulder.  It was me.  She wanted to tell you, but I was against it.  I just found out myself that she and Missy were planning on a get-together, to clear the air.”

Mulder tenses, and then stares up at me through his tear-soaked eyes.  “Why the fuck would you have done that?  Why?  Were you that afraid of me?  You?”  He asks through clenched teeth, and I can see he is trying to keep his sudden flash of anger under control.

“Afraid of you?  Hardly.  You, Mulder, are the last person on Earth that I am afraid of.  It was Them.  I was fearful that if you knew, you would be a hothead and try to do something stupid and blow my cover.”

“Your cover?  You were worried about your fucking cover?  Your cover was more important than what Scu...”  Mulder shuts his mouth; already realizing it is too late, as he senses my rapid rise to my feet.

“Nothing was ever more important to me than Katya!”  I shriek, flying across the room, before turning to stare daggers of ice at him.

“Then God damn it, Alex!  Why did you tell her not to tell me about you?!”  He asks, his tone carrying that of a person who understands he is out of line, yet still compelled to ask.  To get an answer.

“You are just rich, Mulder, you know that?  I did not ‘tell’ Katya anything.  Not what she could do, nor what she could not.  Yes, I was against her telling you, but she made the final decision.  I did not order her around you prick!  Katya was extremely intelligent and she did whatever she wanted, when she wanted!  I know that she wanted to tell you, but if she did not, it was not because of me, but because of you!”  I spit back, taking hold of the anger in my veins.  Exalting in the feel of it.  Of anything that can take the pain away from my never ending grief.  Even if only momentarily.

“Me?”  He retorts, outraged, no longer caring that I am simply lashing out at him in grief.  “Fuck!  I’m grieving too!  Who the hell do you think you are?!”

“Think about it, Mulder.  How many times over the years had she heard you say how much you hate me?  How much you would like to put a bullet in me, because you felt I betrayed you?  How the hell do you think that made her feel?  Knowing she was in love with a man you despised?  You think she would want to come out and tell you?  Why?  So she could fall victim to your wrath?  You pompous asshole!  She didn’t tell you because she didn’t want to hurt you, even though it was killing her!”

He gasps as the full brunt of my words hits him.

“I would not have listened to her.”  He replies, quietly.  No longer willing to fight against me.  Against the truths that I am revealing to him.

“Yes, Mulder.  You would not have listened to her.”  I agree, turning to face the window, looking at, but not seeing, the rain falling on the other side of it.

“I’m sorry.”  He says softly, and I can see him looking up at my back from the bed through the window’s reflection; of the one man he had thought his enemy, more than almost any other.

“So am I, Mulder.  So am I.”  I simply respond, not turning around; placing my hands into the pockets of my jacket.

~~~

I look away, down at the carpet, becoming conscious of the fact that if only I had not been a complete asshole, Scully might still be living.

“Fox?  Alex?”  Melissa asks softly, walking back into the room.  “The coffee is ready.”

“Okay, Mel.  We will be there in a minute.”  I reply, gazing up at her.  I am aware by the look on her face that she can sense the hostility in the room, and is again torn as to whether to stay or not.

I smile gently at her, waving her to go, as I mouth at her that it will all right.  It hurts me to watch her leave so hesitantly.

“Alex, please…”  I say, turning back to my former partner.  “I really had no idea...”

“When the fuck did you decide you could call me ‘Alex’?”  He all of a sudden asks, startling me deeply with his question.

“Would you rather I kept calling you ‘Krycek’?  I pose in return, bewildered.

“I don’t give a damn what you call me, Mulder.  ‘Ratbastard’ seemed to be your favorite.  Why don’t you just call me that?”

The prevailing silence in the room is deafening.

“Kry...?  Al...?  Oh never mind.”  I respond, after a moment.  Giving in.  This is going nowhere fast.  Exasperated, I stand, turn toward the younger man, and look at him through our mutual reflections in the glass.

“I realized you were no longer a ‘Ratbastard’, or simply, ‘Krycek’, after listening to the story from my wife.  I realized the truth was being told to me and that you should have always remained ‘Alex’.  I’m willing to admit my faults here, but please, meet me half way.  I know now that I have been very wrong about you.  It saddens me deeply, to know that it took Scully’s death for me to find out just how wrong.  However, Alex, I am willing to listen to you.  To hear what it is you have to tell me.”

He merely stands still, staring at me in the glass.  I rake my hands through my hair abruptly, very tired and sick to my stomach from all of the happenings of the past week.

“Please, Alex.  Don’t do this.  Don’t shut me out, not now.  Due to what Mel has told me, I’m willing to bet that you are working on some sort of plan?  Plans for vengeance?”

I catch him as Alex blinks, stunned.  Unsure as to how to respond to the directness of my inquiry, though, he says nothing.

I stare at him in the eyes through our reflection.  “You are, aren’t you?”

He finally lowers his head.  “Yes.”  He then admits, quietly.

“Then damn it, Alex!  You are going to need my help!”

Alex turns around at last and stares at me, startling me yet again, as I watch the combined look of sorrow, and hatred, flicker across my old friend’s face.  And that is when it hits me.  He, this man, had once been one of my dearest friends, and I had turned my back on him on suspicion alone.

“I am so, so sorry, Alex.  Jesus.  You really did love her, didn’t you?”  I ask, cautiously stepping closer.

“More than life, Mulder.  More than anything or anyone.”  He answers, watching me warily.  I can see through his eyes that he is wondering what he would really do, if I came any closer.  “Nothing in the world brought me more joy than loving her.”

“Christ!  I am so very sorry, Alex.  I truly am.  If.  Damn it.  If only I had known!  I could have helped you to protect her!”

“She wasn’t yours to protect, Mulder.  She was mine.”  He replies, simply.  Adamantly.

We gaze at each other in the silence, reaching some type of understanding, without any words said.

We stand that way, almost like statues, until he teeters, much to my surprise.

“Alex?”  I question, moving swiftly toward him.  Not liking the sudden paleness of his face one bit.

“Mul...”  He tries to respond, before falling abruptly into my suddenly outstretched arms.

“Melissa!”  I cry out, trying desperately to keep from dropping the unexpected weight of the man.  “Jesus Christ!  Alex?!”

“Yes, Fox?”  She asks running back into the bedroom.  “Oh God!  What’s wrong with him?”  She demands to know hurrying to my side to help me place him back onto the bed.

“I don’t know.  We were talking, and he just…fell into my grasp.”

After placing Alex on the bed, I stand by in alarm, as Melissa tries to revive him by gently tapping his face.  “Alex?  Alex?  Please, wake up!  Shit!  Fox, he isn’t responding!”  She tells me, while trying badly to keep from panicking herself.

“Don’t panic, Mel.  I think…maybe…he is simply asleep.”

“You think?  Fox!  If he were simply sleeping he would respond to me!”

“Well God damn it, Mel!  What the hell do you want me to do?”  I inquire, at a complete loss as to how to handle the situation.  Jesus!  If something is wrong with him too, she will never forgive me.

“Call John and Monica.”  She implores.

“John and Monica?”  I repeat, looking at her quizzically.  “Why the hell would I call them?”

“Yes, John and Monica.  Call them, and ask them to come over here.  We must hurry!  We can not be found here when the other agents come for the rest of the damn boxes!  It will blow his cover!”  She insists, rubbing at his hands.  “Come on Alex!  Please, wake up!”  She quietly pleads.

I stand still and stare at my wife-stunned.  Shit!  She really is in deep in all of this!  I gaze at Alex a moment longer, and then reach into my trench coat pocket for my cell phone, while leaving the room.  I punch in the number three on my speed dial, and begin pacing the hallway.  Instantly horrified by the sight-and feel-of the newly cleaned carpeting.  Oh, Christ, did Alex happen to notice the damn floor?

Copyright ~ 2002 - 2005 ~ TDAP