Fox Mulder couldn't believe it, even as he stared at the man standing 
in his doorway, whose face wore an incredibly pleading expression. Alex 
Krycek. 

He hadn't seen Krycek for over half a year. Since he walked into - and 
then out of, his life. And left it turned upside down. Mulder had never 
doubted his sexuality until Krycek kissed him. Both men knew what a 
hard on Mulder had had that night. Both knew exactly what it meant.

But both tried to deny it. 

Mulder broke the staring competition by sighing, and asking, "What do 
you want, Krycek?"

Krycek averted his eyes. "Mulder, you gotta let me stay here. Just for 
a while, and then I'll be gone. Maybe just a night, or two, but you 
gotta. I'm sick of running, I can't run forever.."

Krycek was speaking slightly garbled from speed, but Mulder understood. 
He just had one question.

"Why me, Krycek?"

Krycek looked back, straight into Mulder's eyes, and Mulder recalled 
when those flat green eyes were locked with his last, before..

"You...you're the only one, who..who HATES the Cigarette Man as much as 
me. And I guess I can trust you as much as anyone, which isn't saying 
much."

Mulder stepped back, submitting, letting Krycek come in. He noticed how 
soaking Krycek was, and how the wet denim clung to his thighs. He 
mentally hit himself for thinking that.

Krycek quietly stepped in to the apartment further, and Mulder took his 
chance. He sprung forward and clicked Krycek's wrists in front of his 
body, in handcuffs. Krycek gave him a 'what the hell was that for, 
smartass?' look, and Mulder smiled. 

"Just to be safe. It's no secret that I trust you as far as I can throw 
you, Krycek."

Krycek gave him a mock-wounded look, then chuckled. Mulder gave him a 
questioning look, and Krycek grinned.

"Are you, uh, planning to get some clothes on?"

Mulder looked down, startled, and realised he was just wearing his 
boxers. He half blushed, and then realised something else.

"Yeah well, I was asleep. It's half past one, Krycek!"

Krycek nodded, suddenly quiet again. "Is there somewhere I can sleep?" 
he asked, not meeting Mulder's eyes.

"Yeah. You can have the bed, I guess."

Krycek seemed to be studying his boots. "Thanks."

Mulder wondered what the hell was wrong with Krycek, but instead of 
asking, lead him into the bedroom. Krycek sat on the bed, and Mulder 
shoved him roughly on the front, causing a slight yelp of pain from 
Krycek, and also causing him to fall on his back.

Mulder wondered what was causing him pain, and pulled up Krycek's 
shirt. And winced himself. Someone had come at Krycek with a knife, and 
they had done a good job. Mulder looked at the shirt again, and 
realised in fact it wasn't a maroon-reddish coloured shirt, but 
originally white - stained dark from Krycek's blood. 

"Krycek, we've got to get this checked out. It'll need stitches."

Krycek shook his head adamently, "No!" then he calmed down, lying 
quietly. "I'll go later. Maybe. But it'll be right."

Mulder was doubtful, but realised he had Snowball's Hope in Hell of 
getting Krycek, albeit an injured Krycek, to a hospital against his 
will. He unlocked one hand of the handcuffs, and put the chain of the 
handcuffs over the headboard of the bed, effectively chaining Krycek to 
the bed. 

Krycek laid his head on its side, staring off into space. Mulder 
helpfully pulled the sheets up over him, but Krycek didn't even seem to 
notice, simply closing his eyes, and Mulder unwillingly noted how his 
long lashes fell gently on his cheeks, almost femininely.

He left, wandering out to the couch and lying down. But part of him was 
wondering if the man in his bedroom was feeling the way he was. Part of 
him, however, was calling him a hypocrite - taking in, perhaps his 
worst enemy, and feeling attracted to him. Stupid Spooky Mulder. 

In the bedroom, Krycek cringed, his wound causing more pain than he had 
let on. He realised he was still fully clothed, one leg hanging out the 
side of the bed. Even his boots were still on, but he couldn't move to 
take them off. *Fuck, Alex!* his mind swore, *What the hell are you 
doing at Mulder's house, pleading to be protected? What the fuck 
happened to being hard and tough? Huh?*

Involuntarily, a tear crept down his cheek, and he mentally hit 
himself, trying to wriggle around so his face was buried in the pillow. 
Fuck it, he was getting soft. *You're not going to break now, Alex?! 
Shitdamnhell, stop crying!* He couldn't help it, and hated himself. He 
was sick to hell of being everyone's worst enemy, continually on the 
run before he got killed, and he hated his left 'arm'. And now, 
turning, of all people, to Mulder. His ex-partner. 

*Fuck, I hate my life!*

Mind in turmoil, he eventually dropped into a restless sleep.

Mulder turned for the fiftieth time, unable to drop into slumber. Maybe 
it was because his thoughts were taken up by Krycek, so close, in his 
own bed. After what felt like an hour - but the clock confirmed it was 
only quarter that, he got up and walked into the bedroom. 

A sweat had worked up on Krycek's forehead, and he frowned in sleep, 
lips slightly parted and a frown crease between his eyes, across his 
nose. His eyelashes fluttered every now and then, and Mulder realised 
with slight horror that he had a proper hard on, hard being the 
operative word.

His mind freaked, trying to find something to distract him, and he 
caught sight of Krycek's left foot hanging out of the bed, still clad 
in the boot. He bent down, and slowly - afraid of waking him - tugged 
it off. Krycek twitched once, but stayed sleeping. 

Mulder walked around the other side of the bed, and slipped into bed. 
Krycek mumbled something unintelligable, and Mulder ignored him, also 
ignoring the rather suspicious bulge in his boxers. Eventually, calmed 
by Krycek's somewhat irregular breathing, he dropped into sleep.

*****

The next morning, Mulder woke before Krycek did, and took the 
opportunity to firstly check Krycek's wound - which was still bleeding, 
but only a little, and then get out of there. He let Krycek sleep - as 
he had looked pretty tired the night before.

At ten o'clock, he walked back in, but Krycek was still asleep. Mulder 
stood there for a while, just watching him sleep - his breathing had 
quietened down, and he was smiling slightly. Suddenly, his eyes flicked 
open and focussed on Mulder. He raised an eyebrow at him, looking 
surprised.

"Were you watching me sleep?" Krycek asked, grinning slightly, 
teasingly. Mulder smiled back, but didn't answer. Krycek groaned 
slightly. "I could do with a shower. You mind?"

With his head, he indicated to the handcuffs, and Mulder came over and 
undid them. Silently, he lead Krycek into the bathroom. Krycek reached 
in and turned the water on, then cringed as he felt the cold water. He 
turned the knob around so the water was warm, then turned back to 
Mulder. 

"Are you planning to watch me take a shower?"

Mulder looked him in the eyes. "I'm worried you'll take off out the 
window."

Krycek regarded him amusedly. Then shrugged. "I can use some help 
washing my back, I suppose.."

Mulder nodded, and studied the roof as Krycek stripped off his jacket 
and shirt. Craftily using his right hand, he proceeded to take off his 
jeans and boxers, also. And then his prosthetic arm.

Although Mulder tried not to look, he couldn't help it - and didn't 
know why. Krycek caught his glance and smiled sadly. 

"It's ok. You can look, Mulder, I don't give a fuck."

Mulder stared at him, inwardly wondering if his swearing was habit, or 
just a defense mechanism. Krycek got into the shower, gasping slightly 
as the water hit his front, where he was all cut up. 

The two both stood in silence, the only sound being the water hitting 
the floor of the shower. Neither wanted to speak, but Krycek eventually 
broke the silence.

"Mulder, honest, I can't reach my back."

Obediently, Mulder shoved the shower curtain aside violently, and 
scrubbed Krycek's back for him, Krycek only once uttering a slight 
moan, and flexing his back. 

Mulder finished soon enough, and left the bathroom, feeling like he was 
going to never stop blushing. Forget years in the FBI, X-Files, Violent 
Crimes and all the rest - that was the hardest thing he'd ever had to 
do. He heard the door open, and Krycek stepped out, clad in only a 
towel. Fighting the urge to look, Mulder called, "Krycek, you can 
borrow some of my clothes if you want," and was answered by the sound 
of his door shutting.

After about five minutes, Krycek came back out, clad in a pair of 
Mulder's jeans and a slightly-tight t-shirt. Mulder had the thought 
that that had to chafe on his still pretty fresh wound. Krycek sat on 
the couch, staring blankly into space. It occurred to Mulder that he 
hadn't bothered calling in to work, telling Scully that he wasn't 
planning on turning up. But he hadn't thought of that. 

As if on cue, the phone rang. Mulder got up and answered it. 

"Mulder."

"Mulder, it's me. Where the hell are you?"

Scully, naturally. Mulder ran a hand through his hair, and feigned a 
cough. 

"I'm kinda sick, Scully, so I thought it better to, y'know, just miss 
out on coming in today.."

"And leave me knee-deep in paperwork Skinner's "just decided" to dump 
on me today?"

Mulder didn't bother answering. She continued.

"What's wrong with you? Should I come over?"

"No, I'm ok. I'll see you later.."

"Muld-" Mulder hung up the phone, cutting her off. He turned back to 
Krycek, on the couch. 

"Krycek. Will you tell me exactly why you're here?"

Krycek turned away, and Mulder was sure he caught a hint of a sigh. 
Still looking away from Mulder, he started speaking.

"You know him. The Cigarette guy, you call him Cancer Man I think. He's 
after me, hates me, wants to kill me. I have to get away. I've been 
running for..god knows how long, I don't know. I don't want to think, 
and I've been running too long, I'm too tired to think. I've gotta 
stop, but where can I go. No-one's on my side, except me I suppose. 
You're the only person I could think of who I might be able to stay 
with. You have no idea what it's like, Mulder! What it's like for 
everyone to hate you, to have no friends, to not be able to have a 
choice in trusting anyone."

Mulder broke in, "I don't trust anyone, except Scully."

Krycek fixed him with a glare. "Yeah well I don't have anyone I can 
trust. Anyone I've ever trusted has either double crossed me, or died - 
or gotten killed. Fuck 'em."

Mulder looked curiously at Krycek. "You care, don't you. This 
flippancy, this 'I don't give a fuck' attitude, it's a coverup, isn't 
it."

Krycek shot him a glare. "Shut up, smartass."

Mulder leaned back, in his seat. "Where's your family, Krycek? Why 
aren't you with them?"

Krycek suddenly sprung forward, taking Mulder by surprise and 
effectively pinning him back. 

"Don't you ever fucking well say anything about my family. Ever, okay? 
Just shut the hell up. I don't have a family, as far as you or I are 
concerned. So leave it."

He shoved Mulder, and went back to his place on the couch, slouching 
back. He wiped his right hand quickly across his eyes, making Mulder 
wonder if he'd been crying.

"Krycek. Geez, if anyone could know about not having a family, it'd be 
me. Okay? So do tell."

Krycek fixed his green eyed glance on him, glaring with a hint of hurt 
in his eyes. "Okay, Fox.." he spat Mulder's first name out like he 
would a curse, and Mulder wondered if he was right to push the issue. 
"Listen to this. I haven't seen anyone in my family since I was five 
years old. My only memory of my father is of him yelling at me, telling 
me that I was no fucking son of his. He informed me, that my mother 
must have screwed the fucking mailman to get me. He told me that I was 
going to grow up to be a murdering bastard, like him. I was adopted, I 
think - I hope. He told me to change my name, Krycek's not my real last 
name. Arntzen is. But you know, what fucking hurts the most? He was 
right. I have turned out to be a murdering bastard like him."

Mulder leaned back in the chair, surprised at this sudden outburst of 
emotion. He didn't know what to say. Krycek had been right.

"Uhh.." Mulder was unsure whether to call him Alex or Krycek, or what. 
Krycek saved his butt.

"Just call me Alex, I don't really fucking care.."

"Alex.." Mulder still didn't know what to say. For some reason, he'd 
imagined Krycek to have a reasonably normal family. But apparently not. 
Mulder couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"Mulder!" Krycek exclaimed, annoyed, "Don't you dare fucking well feel 
sorry for me, okay? Don't you fucking dare."

Mulder stared at him. He didn't want to say anything, as Krycek tried 
to calm his breathing back to normal. Out of the corner of his eye, he 
kept a glare on Mulder.

Mulder got up again, heading for the kitchen. He called over his 
shoulder once to see what Krycek wanted to eat, but got no answer.

"Alex?" he ventured, wondering if he really was okay. Krycek didn't 
answer, so Mulder went back in to the room. Krycek was over at the 
window, sitting there and simply staring out into space. He didn't 
notice as Mulder walked over to him, didn't turn. 

Mulder inwardly noticed that Krycek had been silently crying. His 
cheeks were streaked either side by a tear, and he just stared.

Mulder walked over and sat down beside Krycek. Tentatively, Mulder 
slipped one arm around Krycek's shoulders, in an attempt to comfort 
him. A sob escaped from Krycek, and he turned around quickly, gripping 
Mulder tightly with his right arm, and leaning his face into Mulder's 
chest. Slightly uncomfortably, Mulder stroked the back of Krycek's 
head, just embracing him. 

Krycek sobbed uncontrollably, choking on the tears; suddenly breaking. 
He couldn't believe how much it hurt, talking - thinking about his 
family. He clutched at Mulder, drawing strength from him. Mulder just 
held him, and Krycek hadn't realised how much he'd missed being hugged. 
But the tears refused to stop.

Mulder held Alex's body, racked with sobs, in his two arms, close to 
his own body, Krycek's head resting on Mulder's chest. The tears showed 
no sign of stopping, and Mulder just peacefully, rhythmically, stroked 
the back of his head, wondering if Krycek was feeling like he was. Also 
wondering if Krycek could feel Mulder's continually growing erection.
Eventually, his breathing evened up, the tears halted. Krycek pulled 
away from Mulder, not meeting his eyes. 

Krycek stood up, somewhat shakily, and walked back to the bedroom, 
slamming the door after him. Mulder also rose, but went into the 
kitchen. Without knowing why. That last thing had hit him harder than 
he'd like to think. He didn't know what to think at all. He wasn't sure 
he wanted to think about it much..

In the bedroom, Krycek threw himself on the bed, in part despair, part 
deprivation, and part relief. Geez, Mulder had just...held him? Surely 
it wasn't his imagination. Mulder had held him, and stroked him - 
comforted him. Mulder, his sworn enemy.

*Fuck, why the hell is he screwing with my head like this!?* Krycek 
turned on his back, and scraped his right hand through his hair, which 
was cut short again. He didn't know what to think at all. He wanted 
Mulder, but could Mulder ever possibly want him? *A fucking traitor 
who's double crossed just about everyone he knows, and only has one 
arm. Fucking great traits in a lover*

He sat up, leaning against the headboard and staring at the opposite 
wall. He didn't move, just occasionally shivered. Suddenly there was a 
knock on the door, and Mulder came in, holding a glass of water. 
Suddenly thankful, Krycek reached for it and drank.

Mulder sat down on the edge of the bed, and watched him. 

"Alex," he started, both wincing slightly at the use of the relatively 
unfamiliar name, "You know, I've lost, too. My sister, my father, my 
faith - and my need to go on, time and time again. My X-Files."

Krycek was relatively listening, absently undoing the straps of his 
prosthetic and removing it, trying not to touch the stump of his left 
arm.

"It's just..I don't know. You've lost as well, we both have. You have 
no idea how much I.."

Krycek cut him off, standing up.

"Fuck you Mulder! I have no idea? YOU have no fucking idea! What do you 
mean, you've lost. Lost *what*. You have no bloody idea how much I wish 
I'd *had* a family to lose! I don't even know the meaning of being 
fucking well loved, for godssake! You have Scully. Who do I have?! I've 
lost so much, and I didn't even have much to lose in the first place. I 
was locked in a goddamn abandoned silo for *MONTHS*, Mulder! You have 
no fucking idea about loss. You've lost your sister and your father. 
Well, how sad. Poor Spooky Mulder. Meanwhile, in other news, 
Alex-fucking-Krycek loses his ARM!" Krycek broke off to pick up the 
prosthetic and hurl it at Mulder, who easily ducked. "Geez, Mulder, you 
live like a fucking king compared to me. I can't even remember how long 
it's been since I lived for more than a week in a place without being 
scared. I have no mind anymore, I do what I'm fucking well told. Or I 
die. That's it, Mulder. So don't ever, EVER talk to me about how much 
you've lost. I really don't give a fuck. You sound like a spoilt little 
rich boy, to me. Do you have any idea what you still have left?! What 
do I have. A leather jacket and a pair of boots. That's all! That's all 
that I've ever had, and I think I stole both of them as well, like the 
rest of my clothes! Fuck you, Mulder. I have NO life. Okay? I never 
have, and it didn't help when some Russian fucking bush-men cut off my 
fucking arm with a knife!"

He left off, breathing quickly, and Mulder inwardly wondered if he was 
going to cry again. He sure looked like it. Not meeting Mulder's eyes, 
he walked past him and picked up the prosthetic. He inspected it 
closely, distracting himself. Not wanting to meet Mulder's eyes, still. 
Mulder stood there, feeling like an absolute idiot. Krycek was 
absolutely right, he did sound like a spoilt little rich boy. 

"Alex.." Mulder turned around to look him in the eyes, wishing he could
see the colour. "Let's..we've gotta get outa here. You know as well as 
I do that this place has more bugs than the rainforest."

Krycek nodded, and retrieved his leather jacket, slipping into it. He 
placed the prosthetic back on the unmade bed, shrugging. He didn't feel 
like pretending, like trying to say to people he still had a left arm. 
For once, just today, he was going to be honest.

Mulder locked the door behind him, and the two crept down the stairs 
quietly. Krycek was somewhat quieter than Mulder - years with the 
Consortium had taught him to sneak around, to make not a noise.

They got out to the car, and Mulder got into the driver's seat. Krycek 
took residence in the passenger, and Mulder silently started the car 
up. 

"Where are we--"

Mulder cut him off. "You'll see when we get there."

Krycek nodded, and looked out the window. Neither spoke, and Mulder 
impulsively turned the radio on. Krycek stayed staring, still not 
saying anything. Mulder wished he'd break the silence. 

Suddenly, a song came on, and Krycek decided to break the silence, and 
sing along. Mulder chuckled, hearing him sing, completely unlike him. 

"The other night, I had the strangest dream. 
I sailed off to China, in a little ol' boat to find ya,
And you said you had to get your laundry cleaned.."

Neither knew any more of the words, so they mostly made it up. Until it 
came to the chorus, and they both broke out in loud, off-tune song. 
Actually, Mulder inwardly noted, Krycek was quite a good singer. Very 
good.

"Ain't nothin' gonna break my stride!
Nobody's gonna slow. me. down.."

Mulder took the next verse, mostly making it up, then turning to 
Krycek, who was grinning, and singing, "You look at me, and you see 
your past. Maybe that's the reason that you're running so fast?"

Krycek snorted with laughter, and joined Mulder in the chorus again. 
But suddenly, Krycek left off, and doubled over. Mulder looked over at 
him, an expression of concern playing over his features.

"Krycek? You okay?"

Krycek's eyes widened, and he shook his head, looking like he was in 
shock. Cringing, he turned to Mulder, and his hand wavered between his 
stomach wound and his left arm. Mulder killed the motor, and reached 
over, but Krycek yanked away, distrustful. Neither said anything.

Krycek leaned back, rolling his eyes upwards. *Shit, out of any time, 
my arm would have to kick in now. Not to mention the knife wound..*

Mulder flung open his door, and came around to Krycek's side, opening 
his door and catching him an instant before he hit the ground. 

"Krycek.."

Mulder propped Krycek up against the side of the car, and knelt down in 
front of him.

"Krycek, you've got to answer me. What's wrong?"

Krycek's eyes focussed on Mulder's face. 

"My..my arm.." he managed to stammer weakly, then pointed to his 
stomach area, indicating the other pain. Another wave of pain passed 
through his arm, and Krycek barely stiffled a yell of pain. He was 
sweating, and Mulder wished suddenly that he'd brought along some 
painkillers, or alcohol. 

"You've got to get to a hospital, Krycek." Mulder told him, stating a 
fact. 

Krycek shook his head in reply, and whispered hoarsely, "They'll find 
me.."

Mulder realised he was right, but didn't know what to do, as Krycek 
suddenly lost conciousness. It came to him in a blinding flash of the 
obvious - call Scully.

He reached inside the car and grabbed out his cellphone, punching in 
her number. She picked up on the third ring.

"Scully."

"Scully, it's me. Look, I need your help -"

"Mulder? Where the hell are you?"

"I'm..I'm out in the middle of nowhere, Scully."

"And why do you need *my* help?"

"Because.." Mulder trailed off. "All right, Scully. I've got Alex 
Krycek here with me, and he's just collapsed from pain. His arm, I 
guess - and I can't take him to the hospital."

"I knew you were with Krycek," Scully said calmly.

"What?"

"Mulder, as far as I know, there aren't many people that you know with 
prosthetic arms. I found his in your apartment, which, by the way, is 
where I am right now."

Mulder was slightly shocked. "Anyway, Scully, can you come? I don't 
know how bad he is, but I really can't take him to a public doctor."

Scully sighed. "Mulder, Alex Krycek is a liar and a murderer, why do 
you want to help him?"

*Yeah, Mulder, why _do_ you want to help him?*

"Where are you?"

Mulder looked around, but couldn't tell her completely and certainly 
where they were. 

"Look. I'll get him in the car somehow, and bring him into town. Stay 
there, Scully."

Scully sighed on the other end. "Okay.."

Mulder hung up the phone, and gently lifted Krycek off the ground, who 
still hadn't regained conciousness. He placed him in the seat, belting 
him in, then hurrying over to the other side and speeding off. 

**********

Half-carrying, half-dragging Krycek, Mulder entered his apartment.

"Scully!" he yelled, placing Krycek on the couch. "Scully!"

She came out of the next-room, giving him a strange expression. "What's 
the big hurry, Mulder?"

He grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the couch. "He still hasn't 
regained conciousness, Scully. Something's wrong."

She tugged off Krycek's leather jacket. 

"You said it's his arm?"

"Maybe. Or his stomach," Mulder said, helping Scully remove Krycek's 
shirt as well. Both agents gasped as they took in the sight of Krycek's 
wounds on his front.

They were puffy, red, and swollen - and looking infected. Most were 
still oozing a little blood, and one had completely split apart, 
showing how deep it was. Upon Scully's quick examination of his left 
arm, or what remained of it, she realised how amazing it was that he'd 
survived this long with a prosthetic.

Not wanting to touch him, she stood up, turning to Mulder.

"We've got to get this man to a hospital, Mulder. I don't care who will 
find him there, we've simply got to. Or he'll be in a very serious 
condition."

Mulder gulped, looking down at Krycek and inwardly wondering why he 
cared. Scully went on.

"His arm - whoever amputated it wasn't exactly skilled. It's not a 
clean stump - it needs to be cleaned up. 
That prosthetic must have been ill fitting, it must have hurt, and 
rubbed it raw in places. No wonder when he had it off, the pain hit. 
You know how when there's pain for long enough, your body adjusts, 
but when the pain leaves again, it hits and is almost unbearable? 
That's what's happened to Krycek. We've got to get him checked out, 
Mulder. I can probably do something about the wounds, but not his 
arm.."

Mulder nodded, and gingerly picked Krycek up again, whose head rolled 
onto Mulder's shoulder. Mulder tried to ignore the tingling feeling he 
felt where Alex's skin touched his clothing.

*********

Mulder leaned back in the chair, fidgeting. He wondered inwardly why 
the hell hospital chairs weren't more comfortable. It wasn't just the 
chairs that were making him uncomfortable, however. It was the complete 
and utter termoil inside him, the feelings fighting to assert 
themselves. He didn't know which were his true feelings, didn't want to 
know.

A doctor walked in, at a clipped pace, and passed by him. Mulder 
watched him go, then looked at his watch. 

*Four AM. Great.*

A nurse walked in.

"Hey," Mulder called hoarsely, "Can you come here?"

She walked over to him. "Yes?"

"I'm a...friend.." *Yeah, Mulder. Right, real good mates are you two* 
"Of a man in the hospital, Alex Krycek. I just wanted to know how 
he's.."

She nodded, knowingly. "He's as well as can be expected. We performed 
the operation on his arm, and he's just coming out of it now. He's on 
an IV drip for the wounds on his stomach, however."

Mulder nodded, "Can I go in now?"

She smiled. "I guess so. Don't get him over-excited, however. Come with 
me."

She led him down the hallway, and into Krycek's room. Mulder was 
immediately struck with how fragile Krycek looked, lying in the 
hospital bed. Krycek had his head on one side, looking out the window. 

"Mr. Krycek?" the nurse ventured. "There's someone here to see you. 
I'll leave the two of you alone."

Krycek nodded, but didn't look. Mulder sat in the seat next to the bed. 

"Are you okay, Krycek?"

Krycek turned then, and half smiled. "Fucking perfect" 

Mulder grinned, but didn't know what to say. 

"Your arm hurt?"

"A little," Krycek replied, elevating the head part of the bed.

Neither man said anything, and Krycek in time turned the television on. 
They found a cheap action flick, and watched emotionlessly as a guy 
shot down his enemy, without hesitating. Krycek twisted around.

"Mulder," he began, "Why don't you just kill me. What the fuck do I 
have to live for? You've had so many fucking chances, and you never 
kill me. Why the fuck not, Mulder?"

Relatively simple question. Mulder looked out the window, not 
answering. Krycek glared at him.

"Mulder, answer me! Why the fuck don't you kill me?"

Mulder still didn't answer, his mind scrambling for the correct thing 
to say. He was having a bout of schitzophrenia, and couldn't decide for 
the life of him, what he felt.

"MULDER!" Krycek yelled, trying to get his attention. "WHY THE FUCK 
DON'T YOU-"

Mulder broke in with an answering shout, 

"Because I think I love you!"

The silence and tension in the room could have been cut with a knife. 
Krycek stared wide-eyed at Mulder, mouth slightly open in surprise. He 
couldn't believe it. Mulder had a hand either side of his head, 
pressing hard. He couldn't believe that he'd just said that.

"Mulder.." Krycek began, then trailed off. 

Mulder stood up, and strided over to the window. He stared out, then 
gently hit his head against the cool glass. He opened his eyes, and saw 
in the slightly fogged glass, Scully walk into the room.

"Krycek?" she began, turning towards him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he replied, still looking as if he was in shock after Mulder's 
outburst. Mulder strided silently out of the room, heading for the 
cafeteria.

Scully and Krycek both watched him go. Scully turned to the man in the 
hospital bed.

"Is he okay?"

"I don't know. I think yeah."

She nodded, smiling slightly. He could be sweet when he wanted to be. 
She drew the chair up beside the bed.

"Krycek-"

"Call me Alex," Krycek offered. She nodded.

"Alex. I just want to know one thing - how did you lose your arm?"

Krycek's eyes widened, and he avoided her gaze, staring out the window 
instead. 

"Alex?"

He nodded, and turned back. "In the Siberian Forest," he stated flatly. 
"A bunch of one armed Russian peasants decided to help me, to save me 
from the tests. Their version of protection included cutting my arm off 
with a red hot knife in the middle of the night."

He pointedly left Mulder's role out of the story. 

She noticed the complete lack of emotion, and wondered about it. 
Strange. She looked at his face, which was back to the normal mask of 
non-caring. 

"It was my fault, really," Krycek said distantly, "I should have known 
better than to hang around. Should've left when I had the chance, I 
guess."

"You weren't to know what their version of protection is.."

Krycek lay his head back on the pillow, staring at the roof. He didn't 
offer any more information, and Scully wisely decided to leave the 
subject alone. 

A nurse came in, and tapped Scully on the shoulder.

"Uh, Miss? You'll have to leave now. Mr. Krycek needs to rest."

Scully stood up, and nodded.

"Bye, Kry-Alex."

Krycek nodded, "Bye."

She left, and the nurse stayed.

******

"Mulder?" Scully called, to the figure in the corner, slouched over 
with head in hands. He didn't turn, and she slid into the seat across 
from him.

"Mulder," she began, tipping his face up with one finger, "Are you 
okay?"

Mulder shook his head, leaning back with a sigh.

"I'm fine. But...do you know how it is, Scully - to love someone, and 
not know how they feel back?"

Scully raised one perfect eyebrow. "Excuse me? Mulder?"

He half grinned. "Not you, Scully. Rhetorically, do you know how it 
is?"

"Yes, I do."

He stared at her. "What do you do when that happens?"

She smiled at him, interest piqued. "Well, to begin with, tell her you 
love her. Communication."

"Check - well, kind of."

"Kind of?"

"Yeah, I've told them I love them."

Scully frowned. *Isn't that what I said?*

"Did you get a reply?" she asked, leaning towards him.

"Nope. We got interrupted."

Scully sighed. "You need to get some time alone with this woman, 
Mulder." 

She trailed off as he got a strange look on his face. 

"Mulder?"

"Yeah, Scully, I'm listening, honest. Time alone."

She nodded, then looked closely at him. 

"Are you sure you're fine, Mulder?"

He nodded. "Perfectly."

Scully stood up after a while, with a sigh.

"I've got to go, Mulder. I'm too tired."

He nodded, "Okay."

She stared at him expectantly. "Are you coming?"

He stood up also.

"I don't..I'd feel better if I stayed, to make sure..he's okay."

Scully raised an eyebrow. 

"Okay, Mulder..but when did you and Krycek become such good friends?"

*Yeah, Mulder, when _did_ you become such good friends?*

"I just feel responsible for him, since he came to me with trust.."

*Okay, Mulder, that was weak, and you know it*

Scully nodded, looking reasonably sceptical. She left, and Mulder 
collapsed back into the seat, laying his head to rest on the table.

Scully walked out to her car, and got in. Before she turned the key in 
the ignition, she stopped, thinking aloud.

"Mulder's in love with someone. Who is it?"

That in itself wasn't a hundred percent unusual. What was unusual was 
that he wasn't replying openly to her questions, which were only meant 
to help him. But Mulder sure was acting weirdly. 

"Why is he all of a sudden Krycek's best friend?"

That was almost hurtful in a way. She always thought of them as best 
friends, and all of a sudden, Mulder was getting on brilliantly with 
the man who'd always been his worst enemy. 

Suddenly, Scully realised something. By putting two and two together, 
she realised who Mulder was in love with.

And why he wouldn't respond to her questions.

It wasn't a woman he was in love with, but a man.

Alex Krycek.

*****

Mulder sat with his back up against the wall, hand to head. He was 
sitting outside Krycek's hospital room, and Krycek was inside, asleep. 
Mulder, however, was ready to shoot anyone who came past. He was so 
entirely on edge. His groin ached. His pants suddenly seemed way too 
tight.

Suddenly, from inside the room, he heard a whimper. And then a cry of 
his name. He stood up, and peered into the room.

Krycek was there, twisting and turning in the restless sleep he was 
wrapped in. Mulder had the brief thought that he'd rip the IV out of 
his arm.

Mulder walked quickly over to the bed and perched on the edge of it, 
trying to hold Krycek down without making too much out of it.

"Mulder.." Krycek gasped, not concious. Mulder froze, wondering what 
was going on in Alex's head.

"I'm here, Alex. It's okay," Mulder whispered gently, holding Krycek's 
right hand to the bed.

"Mulder," Krycek whispered, turning his head both ways in quick 
succession, "I..I love you too.."

Mulder's eyes opened wide, and in doing so, he unconciously lessened 
his grip on Krycek. Sensing this, Krycek half-rose his lower half off 
the bed, crying out. He seemed to still be wracked in a nightmare, and 
Mulder reached over to the other side of the bed, so Krycek's torso was 
covered by Mulder's arms. But Krycek kicked out, hitting the end of the 
bed and causing his chart to clatter to the floor.

*Must be some nightmare*, Mulder thought.

Krycek attempted, subconciously, to wriggle out, and Mulder realised 
that he was going to rip the IV out of his arm, or do some other 
damage, if Mulder didn't stop him. 

Mulder climbed on top of the bed, and gingerly laid himself on top of 
Krycek, attempting to avoid his wounds.

Suddenly, Krycek gasped, then opened his eyes.

"Boo," he whispered to Mulder, who almost fell off the bed in shock, 
but instead, simply lost his grip and fell fully on top of Krycek.

"Krycek," Mulder began, unable to not smile at him, "Were you actually 
asleep then?"

"Yeah, I was. Why, did I say something I shouldn't have?"

Mulder pushed himself off the younger man, standing up. 

"Yeah. I'll call a nurse about your IV."

Mulder turned around, dejectedly, and walked out of the room. Krycek 
watched him go, cursing himself.

*What the hell did you say, Alex?* 

With his good hand, he reached after Mulder, trying to stop him, but it 
was pointless. Too late. Mulder had left, and Krycek had lost a perfect 
chance to tell him how he felt. 

*****

(one day later)

"You can come stay with me for a while longer, Krycek," Mulder said, 
"But not forever. You've got to go eventually."

Krycek nodded, walking out to the car, gingerly moving the new prosthesis.

Mulder courteously opened the door for Krycek, and after raising an 
eyebrow at him, Krycek got in.

Neither man spoke, both caught up in their own thoughts, both pairs of 
thoughts taken up by the other man. Mulder got in also, and started up 
the car.

They drove in silence to Mulder's apartment, and when they got there, 
Krycek simply sat on the couch, looking at nothing in particular. 
Mulder sat down on the other end of the couch, careful not to look at 
Krycek.

"Mulder," Krycek began, then left off.

"Yeah?"

"In the hospital, when you said--"

"I know what I said," Mulder cut him off, trying to stop Krycek saying 
it. 

"I just want to ask one thing."

"What?"

"Did you mean that?" Krycek asked, turning towards Mulder, and staring 
into his eyes. 

"I.." Mulder stopped, pausing. "Yes, I meant it, Krycek."

Krycek nodded, and turned to look out the window. It took all of 
Mulder's self control not to simply jump over and do something severe. 
After what felt like half an hour to Mulder, but was probably only like 
two minutes, Krycek turned back to him.

"Uh, Mulder.." 

Mulder, staring at the roof, nodded.

"I didn't say anything when you said that, did I."

Mulder looked at him, slight frown dancing over his face.

"No, you didn't. Didn't reply at all."

Krycek let his lashes brush his cheeks, then looked up into Mulder's 
eyes again.

"I meant to. I meant to say this: I think I love you too, Mulder."

Mulder took a deep breath. 

Considering he'd been wanting to hear that for way too long, it was 
strange that he had no idea what to say. So he settled for not saying 
anything, just undoing his shirt. 

A grin played at the corners of Krycek's mouth. He leaned over, helping 
by undoing the fly on Mulder's jeans. 

Mulder jumped up suddenly, intent on setting a record for undressing 
himself. When he was standing, completely naked - throbbing and red in 
places, - he realised that Krycek was still fully dressed on the couch.

"Your turn," he informed Krycek, propping one leg up on the armrest of 
the sofa, beside Krycek, forcing the Russian's face into his groin.

Krycek started laughing helplessly. 

"Are you laughing at me, _Krycek_?" he demanded, leaning forward.

Krycek attempted to speak coherently.

"N-Nyet, no, _Foxy_.." he replied, grinning, and with his good hand, 
began undoing his own fly.

Mulder decided to help by ridding Krycek of his shirt. Krycek wriggled 
around to make it easier, and before long, he was stripped down to his 
socks.

"Are you planning on taking the socks off?" Mulder asked, grinning 
slightly. Krycek shook his head.

"Gotta keep some things on a need-to-know basis."

Mulder shook his head. *He is driving me insane*

Suddenly, and without warning, Mulder thrust forward, effectively 
slamming Krycek down on the couch. The two kissed hard, and 
passionately.

"Don't come yet, Alex.." Mulder warned, tracing his way in gentle 
kisses down Alex's body.

Krycek moaned, bucking up into Mulder, who grinned teasingly, pausing 
around Krycek's abdomen.

Slowly, Mulder moved down to where he took Krycek's cock in his mouth, 
tracing a track up it with his tongue, and finishing at the tip, where 
he bit it slightly, softly, teasingly. 

"Mulder!" Krycek managed to gasp out. Mulder raised his head so they 
met eyes.

"Do you have any.."

Mulder's eyes widened. 

"No.." he replied. "Fuck it!"

Suddenly, a quiet knock at the door sounded. 

Krycek decided to answer. "Whozzit?"

There was no answer, but the sound of something sliding under the door. 
Mulder signalled Krycek to stay right where he was, and walked over to 
the door. 

He picked up the small package. It was a tube of KY Jelly, and a box of 
condoms. With a note attached.

	Mulder,
	I figured it out. Guess you just have to trust instincts 
sometimes, right? Say hi to Krycek from me. 
	Best wishes,
	-Scully

Mulder chuckled, then turned around.

"Oh, Alex! Guess who that was from.."