It's Not a Habit
By Amy B. jb7811@bellsouth.net
Fox Mulder walked out of A.D. Skinner's office full of anger and hurt
that even the reopening of
the X-Files could not assuage. Alex Krycek had disappeared. His telephone
had been disconnected
and Mulder was sure his apartment had been cleaned out. He shouldn't
be surprised after finding
that damned Morley butt in Krycek's ashtray, but he had held some faint
hope that at least one
person in this whole debacle would get the punishment he deserved.
Mulder cursed both himself and Krycek as he made his way home that night.
He cursed himself
for being a fool and Krycek for betraying him. Fox Mulder did not trust
lightly-- he didn't really
trust anyone unconditionally. Even Scully and Skinner were on shaky
ground some of the time.
Now Scully was gone; abducted-- and it was Mulder's own lover who had
aided her disappearance
and possibly killed the only witness. Even if Duane Barry was the raving
lunatic everyone else
thought he was, he had been their best lead to whoever took Scully.
He walked into his apartment like a man going to the electric chair.
He knew the memories would
overwhelm him, and they did. That first night-- he had brought Alex
home with him and changed
their relationship forever. Alex-- cuddling with him on the couch.
Alex--naked and teasing in the
shower. Alex--writhing on the bed and telling Mulder how much he loved
him.
Mulder slumped in the chair across from the couch and rubbed his eyes.
He knew he should be
focused on finding Scully right now but thoughts of Alex kept popping
up. He thought about the
morning after Barry had taken Scully from her apartment and Skinner
had ordered Krycek to
take Mulder home to rest.
Alex had known Mulder would never be able to sleep so he had stretched
him out on the bed and
loved him so gently that Mulder had been moved to tears. He had proceeded
to sob out some of
his frustration and fear on Alex's shoulder. Alex had been so tender
and sweet, stroking Mulder's
back and wiping his tears away. Reassuring him that Scully would be
okay and they would find
her. Mulder had been slightly comforted at the time but now wondered
whether the reassurances
were just more lies or based on some kind of inside information.
He looked over at the flashing red light on the answering machine, remembering
Scully's voice
yelling his name in that last fateful message, and felt his heart break
just a little more. He hadn't
thought it was a possible to hurt any more but apparently it was. The
wellspring of pain inside him
just seem to grow with each disappearance, each betrayal.
His isolation was even greater than ever--speaking to Mrs. Scully had
only driven that point home.
He tried to imagine his parents' reaction if he had been the one abducted.
His mind conjured up a
rather grim picture of stoic acceptance, so he tried to shake that
off too, only to be confronted
with his solitude-both physical and emotional.
Mulder finally hauled himself out of his chair and went to take a shower.
It seemed like days since
he had felt clean. The hot water did little to soothe him and if his
face was wet with more tears
than water he ignored it. He dried off mechanically and went to his
room for a fresh t-shirt and
boxers.
Avoiding even a glimpse of the bed, he dressed quickly and went back
to the living room. He
turned on the television for background noise then lay down on the
couch. It held just as much of
Alex as the bed did, but, oddly enough, Mulder could pretend for just
a moment that Alex had
never been here. He tried to pretend for another moment that he had
never met--and loved--Alex
Krycek. He couldn't do it. Alex--for all his lies-- had burrowed right
into Mulder's heart. So now it
felt like that part of him had been ripped out.
He sniffled and sat up. Brooding wasn't the answer but he had gotten
little or no sleep in the last
days so he had precious little energy left to do anything else. He
stood up a bit unsteadily as
exhaustion started to take its toll. He went to the kitchen for aspirin
then to his bedroom door. He
stood there, braced against the door frame and slowly raised his eyes
to the bed. The scene of the
crime, Mulder thought-- his criminal stupidity in getting involved
with Alex Krycek in the first
place.
He walked slowly to the side of the bed. The neatly made up bed. Mulder
had never bothered but
Alex always made the bed... and washed the dishes, dusted the tables
and bookshelves, and folded
and hung his clothes with military precision. Mulder had laughingly
told Alex on more than one
occasion that he would make some lucky guy a great wife someday. Tonight
Alex's neatness was
not amusing to Mulder, it was infuriating. He leaned down and grabbed
the bedclothes in two big
handfuls and wrenched them from the mattress. The pillows flew off
to the side, and he scooped
them up and threw them in the corner with the rest. He was sure he
could still smell Alex's scent so
he turned the mattress over. He collapsed on the bare bed, the last
of his energy drained. He lay
there gasping for a moment before finally giving in to sleep.
Mulder awoke with a hand over his mouth and a warm body draped half
over his chest. He was
surrounded by a familiar scent It all felt too familiar as he looked
up into green eyes glittering in
the faint light from the hallway. The room was dark but for that single
shaft of gold falling
through the door and across the bed, but Mulder could see Krycek well
enough to know that the
green FBI agent was gone. This man, dressed all in black with his hair
rumpled, seemed to be
someone else entirely.
Krycek pulled his hand away in a slow caress and Mulder's throat constricted.
He swallowed hard
and croaked, "Why?" He had a hundred questions and accusations but
only one made it through.
"There's a half dozen reasons for doing anything. I can't tell you much.
I did try to protect you."
Alex's voice was low and gentle and, Mulder thought, possibly regretful.
But maybe that was
wishful thinking. His trip up Skyland Mountain flashed through his
mind.
"You tried to kill me on that tram." He was angry again and tried to
sit up but Alex held him
down. They struggled very briefly before Mulder fell back tiredly.
"I wasn't trying to kill you, just slow you down. It was your bright
idea to climb out of the tram
car in the first place. I was under orders but I never wanted to hurt
you, Fox."
"Don't call me that! You don't have that right anymore." He was almost
embarrassed by his
outburst over what could be viewed as a trivial point. For some reason,
it seemed terribly
important just now. "You rat bastard, don't ever do that again."
"I'm sorry." At Mulder's disbelieving glare, he nodded. "I am. I really
didn't want to hurt you--in
any way--but I had no choice."
"Everybody has a choice. You chose to betray me, the FBI, and probably
this country. And Scully.
Where is she? Just tell me that and I can forget the rest."
"Forget? Forget this?" Alex leaned down and kissed Mulder on both cheeks
then his mouth. He
almost smiled when he felt Mulder's lips tremble under his own. He
pulled back just a bit and
whispered, "You won't forget. You might hate it and try to convince
yourself that you hate me,
but you will never forget."
Mulder shuddered under the truth of that statement. Having an eidetic
memory could be a real
bitch sometimes. His throat seemed to close up as he tried to swallow
back the anguish. Alex was
giving him that adoring look again. The look that had always made Mulder
wonder what it was
Alex was seeing in that moment. He closed his eyes and tried to calm
down and think instead of
feeling so damn much.
"Where's Scully? Is she all right? Tell me where she is... please."
His voice had remained hoarse
but steady until the last word then it broke. He sniffed and cleared
his throat and spoke again,
looking in Krycek's eyes this time. "Please Alex. Tell me where she
is. I won't ask if I meant
anything to you. I won't ask if it was all an assignment. Just tell
me where she is because it's the
right thing to do."
"I can't. I'm a dead man if I tell you anything. I may be one for coming
here tonight but I had to
see you one more time. I had to say goodbye."
"You already did that. The last time we were in this bed. There's nothing left to say."
"You're right. I better go." He still held Mulder down on the bed. He
leaned down for one more
kiss but Mulder jerked his head to the side and it landed on his cheek.
Krycek's lips lingered for a
moment. Then he whispered, "I do love you, Fox Mulder. And we will
meet again. Someday."
Then he released Mulder and disappeared out the door in a dark blur.
Mulder lay there stunned
for a moment then jumped up and rushed after his former lover. But
Krycek was gone as if he had
never been there and Mulder was left alone and hurting once again.
The end.
From the song "Not an Addict" by K's Choice and written by Sarah &
Gert Bettens -Taken
completely out of context ;-)
It's over now, I'm cold, alone
I'm just a person on my own
Nothing means a thing to me
(nothing means a thing to me)
It's not a habit, it's cool, I feel alive
If you don't have it you're on the other side
I'm not an addict (maybe that's a lie)
Free me, leave me
Watch me as I'm going down
Free me, see me
Look at me, I'm falling and I'm falling...