From: siomark@earthlink.net Date: Thu, 29 Nov 2001 21:45:39 -0800 Subject: Story Source: direct Title: THE QUALITY OF MERCY Author: Sam E-Mail Address: PaupackSam@earthlink.net Rating: R Category: S Spoilers: Midway through Season 8, including all episodes up to that point. Keywords: Rape; Slash: Krycek/Other; Mulder/Other; Mulder/Scully Romance; Alternative resolution to Mulder's abduction Summary: When Krycek shows up in the middle of the night Scully discovers what it is like to walk in another's shoes. The usual disclaimers: I neither own nor profit. Archive: Yes, just tell me where. Feedback: Please. "No one knows what it 's like To be hated, To be fated, To telling only lies... No one knows what it's like To feel these feelings, Like I do, And I blame you! But my dreams they aren't as empty As my conscience seems to be, I have hours only lonely My love is vengeance That's never free." At first she thought it was the storm that had broken her sleep. The wind was whipping tree branches against her window and, as she lay in the darkness, she could hear the far off rumble of thunder, the lightening yet unseen. The sound that had reached her, however, was inside the building and her heart lurched suddenly into her throat as she realized it was someone knocking, in a muffled, unsteady fashion, at her front door. Grabbing her gun from its now permanent place on her bedstand she rolled out of bed, automatically adjusted her movement to compensate for the just visible swelling beneath the waistband of her pajama bottoms. Not bothering with a robe she bare-footed her way through the apartment and approached her front door. Whatever was on the other side of door was either getting tired or losing hope-the muffled knocking was slowing in rhythm. Positioning herself to the side of the door she gripped her gun in both hands. "Who is it?" she called. Through the door came a muttered response in a language she did not understand and then a voice that made her hair stand on end. "Dana, it's Krycek. Let us in." Us. The word echoed through her mind but she pushed away the wave of hope that surged through her. Us meant Marita, two rats looking for shelter from the storm. "Please, Dana. It's not what you think." His voice broke off and then she heard him mutter, "croakhH Nncyc, cnewka--" Thinking was definitely not her strong suit at this point in her pregnancy. Thinking would mean calling Skinner or Doggett before she opened that door instead of responding to the strange immediacy in her enemy's voice. Scully released the safety on her Sig and, reaching over, threw the deadbolt. "Dana, my hands...you're going to have to open the door." Taking a deep breath Scully scurried to the opposite side so that she could open the door without exposing herself. She turned the handle and Krycek kicked from the outside, sending the door banging inward. Krycek lurched into Scully's apartment, staggering under the weight of the burden he carried in his arms. As she closed and locked the door behind him Krychek made for her living room couch and, falling to his knees, laid the bundled figure on the cushions. He stayed there, leaning against the couch, his breath coming in harsh gasps. Even in the dim light Scully could see that Krycek was not in the shape to make any sudden moves. She clicked the safety on and walked towards the couch. "I don't think I was followed," Krycek rasped. "You can turn on a light." Scully clicked on the lamp at the bundle's feet and gasped at what the light revealed. An unconscious bone-thin, Fox Mulder lay wrapped in a dirty blanket, his pale face marked by high spots of fever on his cheekbones. Krycek, hovering protectively above him, looked as if he had been through a war. He was soaked to the skin, his face was bruised, one cheekbone scraped raw and what she realized was blood stained his left shoulder above the prosthesis. "Where..." she stammered. Krycek shook his head. "Not now...first things first." Scully nodded, numbly. First things first. Somewhat amazed at her compliance Scully headed to the bathroom for her medical bag and an armful of towels. By the time she returned Krycek had pulled the tattered blanket away from Mulder's body, revealing the shirt and jeans she had last seen him in, now hanging like rags on his bones. Krycek looked up into what she knew must be a face as white as Mulder's. In a tone of voice she had never heard from him he whispered, "Hold on. I can't do this alone." He turned back to Mulder, shifting slightly to accommodate her as she knelt beside him. An overpowering smell of blood, cordite and sweat emanated from Krycek and, to her surprise, the familiarity of these odors cleared her head and allowed her, finally, to focus on the here and now. With hands that trembled only slightly Scully began her medical evaluation while addressing the man crouched beside her. "Alex, tell me what I need to know." Out of the corner of her eye Scully could see that he was as shocked as her by the use of his first name. It had come without thought. Again. "I heard five days ago that the Rebels had taken possession of an important piece of merchandise that was weakened but intact." Scully closed her eyes for a heartbeat. Dear God, merchandise. She refocused on Mulder beneath her hands. As she turned his head towards her he moaned slightly but did not waken. His face felt hot with fever but the pulse in his throat, though fast, was steady and strong. One by one she pulled back his eyelids and watched in relief as each pupil suddenly contracted. She took out her stethoscope and listened intently to his lungs. There was no tell-tale burble of pneumonia as she first feared but the heat emanating from his body spoke of infection. "Once the Rebels stabilized Mulder they tried to reactivate the God module." As if reading her need, Krycek slid his arms between Mulder and the blanket, allowing her to pull it free and then he pulled the tattered shirt free as well. Scully noted instantly that Mulder's wrists bore puncture wounds but though the edges of the scabbed over holes were angry and seemed slightly inflamed she did not believe them to be the source of his fever. With as gentle a pressure as possible she ran questing fingers up and down each arm, noting the puncture marks on his inner elbows and then across his ribs, searching for breaks. His arms seemed fine but the right side of his chest was terribly bruised and a few of his ribs shifted suspiciously under slight pressure. She also noted the healing incision that bisected his chest but pushed away, for now, the horrible memory the sight of it stirred in her mind. Scully turned her gaze on Krycek, noting the deep lines of exhaustion that rendered his face oddly and uncharacteristically vulnerable. Again she felt a strange softening towards the murderous bastard, a fleeting sense of kinship both frightening and reassuring. "Tried or succeeded, Alex?" "Mixed. The artifact they used had no effect until they revved up all his systems." "How?" "Pain." Alex looked away, giving her privacy as he continued. "When I got to him two days ago he was in overload. The stupid bastards thought they could use him-" "Like Gibson Praise." "Yes...when they realized the state he was in they let me...beg the body, so to speak." Scully gripped the edge of the couch, fighting the wave of giddiness and nausea that threatened to turn her inside out. When Alex encircled her shoulders with his good right arm and pulled her against him she nearly fainted, shaken to her core by his unexpected action and her own need. As she huddled against him, riding out her reaction to the searing pictures he had placed in her mind he continued in a voice barely above a whisper. "I gave him Thorazine to shut him at least part of the way down and got him to what I thought was a safe house." Scully looked into the face now just inches from her own. "You got shot." Alex nodded. "They came in firing. I grabbed Mulder and ran. I slipped on a fire escape and we both went down-that's when his ribs got bruised." Scully straightened and Krycek released her. "Did you give him anything besides Thorazine?" "Just water. I knew he needed food but I was afraid to load his systems." Scully nodded in approval. "When was his last dose?" "24 hours ago. The raid came a couple of hours later as he was heading down. He finally passed out about sundown. Between the Rebels and the...others, I don't think he's slept in a very long time." Scully looked Krycek who was now slumped in exhaustion, his right arm resting on the couch next to Mulder's leg. Something had happened to him, something fundamental. He was Krycek, assassin, coward and thief and yet now all she could feel was compassion. "When did you sleep last?" she asked. He smiled and if he had been anyone but Krycek Scully knew that the look on his face would have broken her heart. In a tone that seemed a mockery of his old bravado he sighed, "Ah, Dana, don't you know? The devil never sleeps." "I know the devil, Alex. I shot his brains out...and you're not him." Krycek stared at her. She meant the words, like his, to be a jest but realized she had loaded the words with all the anger she still felt at Pfeister for turning her into someone she had, however briefly, despised. And underneath the words was a worrisome truth. Krycek, for all that he had done, did not emanate evil. He reeked, instead, of pain and hate and loss, heartbreaking loss. He was human. And that meant...oh dear Lord, it meant... She turned from Krycek, not sure what he had seen in her eyes. Wake up, Mulder, she thought fiercely. Tell me why, tell me I can't feel this way. Scully reached over and touched Mulder's face, drawing a gentle hand over the curve of his cheek. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Krycek was watching both of them intently and that his good hand was resting on Mulder's. "Talk to him, Dana," Alex whispered. "I think he's coming around." How would he know, part of her mind snarled, angry that a truth she had hugged to her breast so long had suddenly been shattered. But there was no arguing with Krycek. In the tension in his body and his voice she felt an awareness of something happening within the man lying so still beneath her hands. "Mulder? Mulder, can you hear me?" She cupped his face, willing him to answer her. His eyes didn't open but somewhere deep inside her own head Scully heard a faint whispering. "Mulder?" The whispering deepened and over and over she heard a voice repeat her name. Oh God. It was Mulder's voice, ragged and scared and calling her name like she was his hope of heaven. "Mulder," she whispered back, "I'm here. I'm here. You can come out. I'm here." Later she would try to explain to her mother that it was like childbirth but her first experience of Mulder's return to full consciousness was of walking into a wall of pain. She heard the scream ripped from her own throat and Alex yelling at her to hang on as the agony that filled Mulder's mind rushed over them both. In that split second Scully felt as though she was falling into the well of Mulder's memories but just as suddenly she was beached above the waves, the agony receding as she realized Mulder was holding her. She sobbed once into his chest in sheer relief then pushed herself up to look into his face. His eyes were open and he was looking at her, not through her. His eyes were full of pain and bewilderment and something, she thought, that might just be relief. "Can you...?" she asked. "Whispers..." His voice was raspy and broken but sane and she bit her lip as he turned and kissed the hand that still cupped his face. "I hear whispers. And only you, Alex...and..." He looked past her shoulder and she followed his gaze. Alex was crouched beside the couch, still recovering from the same wave that had slammed Scully. He lifted his head to return their gaze and Scully felt an odd click, somewhere deep inside. And Marita, she thought. "The oil," she whispered. Alex nodded and she noticed that he still held Mulder's hand. Shock, as sudden as the wall of pain, struck her. Mulder wasn't the only one inside her head. "Alex...what are you doing to me? What are you doing to Mulder?" Alex closed his eyes against her accusatory gaze and shook his head. Again she felt a wave of unwelcome compassion that threatened to drown the anger rising within her. Faced with this Alex rather than the Krycek of her nightmares was becoming more and more disorienting and instinctively she turned back to Mulder. She knew he was hearing the question in her mind but his words still took her by surprise. "Close the circuit, Scully," he whispered. "See what I see..." With more strength than she thought he possessed Mulder gripped her right hand, linking their fingers. The old Scully who accompanied Mulder to Bellefleur the first time would have claimed not to understand. The new Scully realized the truth was literally within her grasp. More scared than she could ever remember being Scully fought the tremors that had begun to shake her and brought her left hand down over Alex's. A flaring light caused her to close her eyes and when she opened them Scully realized she was standing in a darkened room, lit only by a small lamp next to an old-fashioned four- poster bed. On the bed was an adolescent boy sitting against the headboard, his knees drawn up to his chest. His arms encircled his knees and he had tucked his face behind his knees, his whole posture of someone either withdrawn or, Scully realized, very, very afraid. Behind her a door opened and turning her head Scully saw a much younger Cancer Man entering. On his heels was William Mulder, also younger though his face already bore the beginnings of the bitter lines that marked the man she had known. Looking back towards the bed she saw that the young boy had lifted his head and she stared, astonished, into the battered face of Alex Krycek. Her first instinct was to throw herself between the men and the boy whose fear pulsed through the room but no motion followed thought. In that split second Scully realized what it was like to be Ebenezer, trapped, like Alex, in a past that could not be changed. With rising horror she watched the two men approach the shrinking boy. CGB Spender sat on the edge of the bed and with easy familiarity began to stroke Alex's back. Though Alex did not pull away Scully could see the boy shudder. "You know, Bill, it doesn't matter that our young friend here hates me. What we are creating is a tool." "Tool? You are creating a monstrosity, Spender." Bill Mulder looked down on his friend and colleague, his face a mask of fury and something deeper and more disturbing. Alex chose that moment to lift his head and stare into Bill's eyes. Whatever he saw there caused him to push away from Spender and spin off the bed, lurching past Scully to the door. Before either Bill or Spender could stop him, Alex jerked the door open. Standing on the other side, his hand raised as if to knock, was a young Mulder. Alex froze, focusing on the alien bounty hunter looming behind Mulder. Scully saw Mulder quickly take in the room, his father and the distraught and battered boy whose sudden slide down the doorframe Mulder reflexively halted, holding Alex against him. "Dad?" "Fox, get out of here!" Bill was livid and Scully watched Mulder flinch. "No, Dad, tell me what's happening here" His grip on Alex tightened and Alex burrowed into him, holding onto Mulder's shirt with desperate hands. In a voice so low Scully thought Spender and Bill probably never heard him, Alex whispered, "Help me. For God's sake help me...please." Mulder looked down into Alex's face and Scully watched Mulder take in Alex's panic. Raising his eyes Mulder turned a withering gaze on his father. "What happened to him?" Bill shook his head but Scully watched helplessly as Spender signaled the bounty hunter. With frightening ease the alien stepped up and separated the two boys, sending Alex sprawling back into the room and jerking Mulder out, slamming the door behind him. On the floor Alex covered his head with his hands and, as the two men bracketed him, began to scream, "No! no, oh God, oh God, no...." Scully pressed her hand to her mouth as tears of helpless rage ran down her cheeks. The light flared and Scully was back beside the couch, holding onto Mulder and Alex. She released them and sat for a moment, her head in her hands, her cheeks were wet with the tears from the nightmare that was Alex's past. "Are both of you okay?" she managed to croak. "Fine," whispered Mulder. "Never better," from Alex, his voice shaky and obviously not under his full control. Liars, she thought and Mulder snorted. Not ready to face Alex yet she looked at Mulder. Though he still looked sick and exhausted something in him had eased. She quirked an eyebrow and thought of a hospital. "No, Scully," Mulder and Alex chimed in unison. "Mulder?" "Scully, I know I should be tested...but I just need to stay here for now." Scully nodded her acquiesence. She didn't think he was in immediate danger and it seemed more important that he sleep than anything else. Dreading it she braved herself to look at Alex who met her gaze with steady eyes. "Why shouldn't I move him, Alex?" "It's too dangerous." This time it was not telepathy that caused the click in her head. "You betrayed Marita," she said flatly, "to save Mulder. She's the one who shot you." Alex nodded. "What do you need me to do?" Scully had the strange feeling she could tell Alex anything, assign him any task and he would do it, like some knight errant hell- bent on proving his worth. What she had in mind, however, was much more mundane. "Are we safe for now?" "Yes. She believes I sold Mulder out to a higher bidder. She won't come looking here." These words were spoken with a certainty born of bitter experience of his former partner's character-and his own. Alex might be Krycek transformed but the wounds were still visible. And with that insight Scully felt as if something had snapped within allowing her to feel, for the first time since the odd couple had lurched in her door, a true relaxation of her months long vigil, pushing her towards joy. And with joy came the urge to share. "Then you can help me give Mulder a bath." She watched with pleasure as Alex's bitter expression melted into one of...well, something close to revulsion. "Come on, Alex, you carried him halfway from hell knows where, you can carry him to the bathroom." She smirked and behind her Mulder snorted again. "I'll handle the details." Alex, unexpectedly, smirked back and took her arm, pulling her to her feet. Scully stepped back as Alex leaned over Mulder but she still heard him as he muttered "Mulder, is she always such a pain?" Mulder smiled up at Alex and then over his shoulder at Scully. "Always," he husked back. "It's her defining characteristic." Scully resisted the urge to smirk at Mulder and watched as Mulder locked his arms around Alex's neck, permitting the slightly smaller man to pull Mulder more easily up off the couch and into his arms. It was still an effort for the exhausted Alex and Scully thought again of a knight-errant and realized the depth of will that had driven Alex to bring his burden to safe haven. She preceded the men into the bathroom and turned on the water before helping Alex settle Mulder on the closed toilet seat. Realizing she had left the towels and her bag in the living room she left to fetch them and then decided to quickly change out of her pajamas and into sweats. Returning to the bathroom minutes later she was surprised to see that Alex had gotten Mulder into the steaming water and that he now knelt beside the tub. "...a lot of good it did, Alex." she heard Mulder say. "Oyettb bao pobo, Mulder. It made all the difference in the world," Alex replied. "You tried. You were the only one." Mulder shifted his gaze away from Alex and looked towards Scully who hovered uncertainly in the doorway. Alex looked over his shoulder and gave her a tired smile. "I leave the details to you." Murmuring something in what she now identified as Russian Alex kissed Mulder's cheek and stood up. As Scully knelt beside the tub Alex touched her shoulder and then slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him. Scully took Mulder's hand and felt his awareness seep into her and her strength flow back into him. At night in her bed and at Mulder's apartment when she had allowed herself the weakness of sleeping wrapped in his scent Scully had imagined over and over how she would act when she saw Mulder again. But this was a scenario she had never imagined and to her utter shock she burst into heartrending sobs and buried her face in their joined hands. She felt Mulder's free hand begin to move through her hair. Bastard, she thought, you bastard, don't you ever do this to me again. "Never," he whispered, "I promise, Scully." She raised her head and looked into his face. With a hunger that was frightening in its intensity she pressed her lips against his mouth which opened to accept her. For one long moment there was only the feel of his lips under hers and his cupping the back of her head, holding her against him. Finally, reluctantly, she broke the kiss and traced the lines of his face as he slumped against the side of the tub, his eyes closed as if on the edge of sleep. "So many times, Scully, I wanted to let go, to let it all end." Mulder's eyes opened and he brought their still joined hands to his lips. "I held on for you. I knew you wouldn't give up." "No. It was never an option." Though the tears still spilled down her cheeks Scully felt a smile pulling at her lips and Mulder smiled back at her. "Scrub my back?" "Better than that. I'll wash your hair." Perched on the edge of the tub she settled into the pleasure of soaping and rinsing Mulder's now much longer hair while the peculiar sensory link engendered by the God module sent the waves of his pleasure back into her own nervous system. When Mulder was as clean as she considered advisable she manuevered him out of the tub and set him down on the edge after first enveloping him in a towel. He was slumped against her as she towel-dried his hair when his body went rigid. At the same time she heard her front door burst open and for a dizzying second she saw Doggett framed in that doorway, his gun pointed at her/Alex. Leaving Mulder braced on the edge of the tub, Scully pulled open the bathroom door. Alex had his back to her, obviously guarding them, his gun trained on Doggett. Without hesitation Scully slipped under Alex's upraised arm and stepped in front of him. "Put the guns down!" she barked. Simultaneously, carefully, both men lowered their weapons. Without looking back Scully reached back and ran a careful hand down Alex's gun arm, coming to rest her hand gently over his. She heard him click on the safety. An instant later came the answering click from Doggett's gun and Alex, his body trembling, bowed over her, his forehead resting against the top of her head. "Agent Scully?" On Doggett's face was a look that elicited a pang of sympathy from Scully. As was usual with her Doggett was stepping into the last act of an ongoing play. "I'll explain, John. Please, just shut the door." As Doggett complied Scully guided the badly shaking Alex to the sofa. She sat down with him and held him against her as he fought to regain control, his head buried in her shoulder. "It's okay, Alex, just take deep breaths." He complied and she found herself, without conscious volition, stroking his hair from his forehead. "It's okay...it's okay." Slowly the tremors eased but he remained slumped against her. She looked up to see Doggett standing a few feet away. "Agent Scully, I am not in the habit of prying into your personal life but I would like to know the identity of the man who pointed a gun at me." "A fair question, John, but one I'm not ready to answer yet in detail." Beside her Alex sighed. "For now I'll just say he's a most...unexpected ally." Scully looked toward the half-open bathroom door and Doggett followed her gaze. "There's someone in there you should meet. My friend here didn't know if you were friend or foe." Alex raised his head and Scully turned towards him. His eyes were wide and dark. Shocking her with its intimacy Alex raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. His eyes closed and for a second he rested his face against her open hand. Friend, she thought. I called him my friend. Though without the physical immediacy of the Mulder- assisted memory she suddenly saw in her mind's eye the young Mulder kneeling beside her/Alex. Mulder was holding Alex's hand and speaking softly to him. Scully realized that Alex could not quite understanding what the boy bent over was saying but that Mulder's compassionate presence was a balm against the pain that tore not just as his body but at his soul. Mulder had thrown the young Krycek a life line-and now, so had she. Alex released her and the image faded. He stood and Scully, stunned and almost overcome with compassion, followed him up. With Doggett trailing them they approached the bathroom door which Scully gently pushed open. Mulder turned, his eyes seeking Scully's. As Doggett watching in stunned silence Alex helped Mulder to his feet and then picked him up. With Scully's guiding hand on his elbow Alex carried Mulder into the bedroom and with Scully settled him in between the sheets. As Alex collapsed into a bedside chair Scully perched beside Mulder and turned her eyes to Doggett, watching him try to hold his poker face as he advanced into the room. "Agent Mulder?" "I think you're supposed to say, 'Agent Mulder, I presume?'" Mulder whispered back. He held out his hand and Doggett took it. "I owe you more than I can say." Doggett lifted his gaze to Scully. "I did my best." Scully looked back at him, her eyes filling with tears. Doggett smiled at her and then turned his attention back to Mulder, taking in his admittedly ghastly appearance. "Something I can do for you, Agent Mulder? Somewhere you might need to go?" "A favor. Scully needs to look after Alex...but they're afraid to leave me alone." "I don't know, Agent Mulder. Seems to me a man whose spent the last couple months circling the rings of Saturn could be trusted to look after himself." >From his chair Alex, without raising his head, snorted and Scully laughed out loud. Doggett grinned at his partner and then eased himself down on the edge of Mulder's bed, looking past Scully to Alex. Alex looked up into Doggett's steady gaze and Scully could see Doggett taking in Alex's condition. "When this is...stablized I would really- really-like an explanation." Doggett looked at Mulder and then back at Scully. "Does he need to be kept awake?" "No, John. Just call me if he seems distressed." "I will, Scully. Do what you need to do." Scully nodded and after dropping a quick kiss on Mulder's cheek she took Alex by his good hand and led him from the room. In the bathroom Alex took a seat on the closed toilet and tugged off his shirt while Scully looked over her ridiculously extensive medical supplies. Hearing Alex hiss she turned to see him working the straps that held his prosthesis, his teeth gritted in pain. His torso, like his face, was bruised and scraped and there was an angry, bruised hole high in his left shoulder. "Alex-" "I can-" "Of course you can-but if you're going to see a doctor, you damn well better let her do her job." She gently tugged his wrist and he desisted, allowing her to finish what he had started. Setting the prosthesis aside she noticed that the stump of Alex's arm was irritated, probably by prolonged used of the artificial limb. She made a mental note to give him some salve and then examined the gunshot wound. There was no exit wound and her eyes flicked up to Alex's averted face. "The bullet's still in there." He nodded, avoiding her eyes. "It was a spent round-maybe a ricochet. Probably why I could keep going." "Did it bleed much?" "I don't really know." His eyes turned towards her. "I was rather...preoccupied." She nodded and continued her examination, running deft fingers over the multiple bruises on his ribs, back and abdomen. Nothing seemed broken and finally she turned her attention to the nasty scrape beneath his left eye. He winced at her touch and she felt more than heard a soft but sickening crunch beneath her fingers. "Your cheekbone is cracked." His eyelids shuddered acknowledgement of her words and she suddenly laid her palm against the side of his neck over his racing pulse. Shit, this man was so used to containing pain-"Breathe, Alex," she commanded and was rewarded with a sighing breath. Without further urging he took deep, steady breaths until the pulse beneath her hand slowed. "Okay...that's good." She stepped back and leaned against the edge of the tub. He pivoted to look at her and again she was struck with the strangeness of this night. She could see that Alex was coming to the end of his rope and for the first time since Melissa's death she had no desire to see him in pain. But what she needed to do was going to hurt like hell. "Your cheekbone should heal by itself in a few weeks. Unless you're hiding something worse from the waist down your other injuries are minor." Alex smiled faintly, acknowledging her attempt at levity but his eyes remained dark and serious. "Get to the meat, Scully." She nodded. "I have to get the bullet out. I'm guessing from the fact you didn't bleed to death that it is intact. I'm also guessing that due to the situation, you don't want to take anything that will...dull your edge." "Dana, it won't be the first time I've had surgery without anesthesia..." Scully's breath caught in her throat as she flashed on her/Alex lying on the hard ground bucking uselessly against too many restraining hands and roaring curses as the knife came- "Dana!" Alex's voice brought her back, gasping for air. For the second time that night she found herself in the bizarre position of accepting comfort from Alex Krycek who now knelt in front of her, his good arm around her waist, while she held on to his shoulders for dear life. "Alex...Alex, what's happening?" He shook his head. "I don't know. I didn't want you to see that." He looked up at her and she could see the fear in his eyes. "You've got to believe, I didn't mean for you..." She nodded, loosening her grip and he sagged to his heels, releasing her waist but capturing and holding onto her left hand. "Scully- you should know-it's a two-way street." "You see-" "Mostly I feel. And trust me," he gave her hand a weirdly reassuring squeeze, "that's a major hazard for a man in my profession." Scully couldn't help herself. She giggled and Alex, looking up at her, smiled. "Doctor, you've got a hell of a bedside manner." "That's what you get for hiring a pathologist." "Well, as long as you know the parts I can deal with the rest." Scully shook her head. "Alex, may I say, with all sincerity, you're one weird fuck?" "Now you sound like Mulder." She quirked an eyebrow but refused to rise to the bait. Instead she stood and somehow, between the two of them, got Alex back on the seat. Sobering as she examined the wound she flicked a concerned glance at Alex who was staring, in a determined fashion, at the wall behind her. "It's going to hurt," she whispered. "I know. Just do it." He looked into her concerned eyes and then back at the wall, setting himself, she realized, to endure. She returned to the bedroom while Alex was showering to find Mulder asleep and Doggett sitting in the bedside chair, his sock- covered feet propped up the edge of the bed, his gun under his hand. "How'd it go, Dr. Scully?" he asked in a low voice as she took a seat on the bed. There was a hint of humor in his voice but mostly concern-for her, she realized, knowing that she probably did not look much better than either of her patients. "It was-gruesome, " she whispered back as she did an automatic check of Mulder's vitals, noting that his pulse had slowed and his breathing had the normal cadence of deep sleep. Relieved of one worry she turned towards Doggett. "It took me close to 20 minutes to dig the bullet out of his shoulder." Doggett winced and she flashed on Alex keening and gripping the material over her hip when her forceps scraped against bone. She had frozen, horrified by the tears spilling down his cheeks but he had unclenched his jaw enough to rasp, "Finish," and she had, minutes later, the intact bullet clinking in the sink. Blinking away the image she looked into Doggett's concerned face. "Quite a night, eh, John?" "Quite a-I don't know, Scully, career?" "More like a life, now." Unconsciously her hand curved over her stomach and she felt a fierce wave of protective love towards the mystery in her belly. Doggett noticed her gesture and she watched as his eyes grew distant for a moment, lost in his own memories. Hearing the shower turn off she touched Mulder's face and then stood. "Are you all right in here, John?" "Yeah. Finish up, Scully, then get off your feet." Scully nodded and headed for the door. She found Alex waiting patiently, wearing Mulder's too large jeans. "Mulder's asleep-he's fine," she said, answering his unspoken question. He nodded and then closed his eyes as she applied antibiotic ointment to his various cuts and scrapes before dressing and wrapping his wounded shoulder. As she smoothed down the last strand of tape she realized he was watching her and she caught her lower lip between her teeth, feeling the tension between what she knew about Alex and the battered man she was treating so tenderly. "You need to know more," he rasped. "Goddammit, Alex, at least let me put it into words!" she snapped, looking into his red-rimmed eyes. Her head felt...over-stuffed and she slumped down on the edge of the tub, irritated but too tired to sustain the flash of anger she felt at Krycek's ability to read and interpret her emotions. She took a deep breath and then held out hesitant hand which Alex captured and held. "It took Mulder years to figure me out," she said simply, realizing he would fill in the blanks. A brief smile touched his lips and then he looked down at their joined hands. "Believe me, Dana, this-" he performed a curious shrug with his truncated arm, "was never part of my wildest imaginings. And, unlike you and Mulder, I don't think we have years." Her breath caught in her throat as fear for him poured through her. Alex's head shot up. "God, Dana, you keep doing that and I'm going to drown right here." He took a firmer grip on her hand. "I've got no plans to get myself killed. It's that if I am going to have any life...anything that gets me beyond who I am- and what I've done, it will have to start here." He watched her face and she looked away, ashamed, knowing he felt the torrent of conflicting emotions his words-and just his very presence-evoked. "Dana. Dana, please, let this happen. Let me show you what you need to know." He released her hand only to bring his hand up to her face, holding her chin so she would have to look into his eyes. Unbidden came the memory of her first encounter with Pfeister and how Mulder had held her chin in the very same way, demanding to see her fear so they both could move past it. Against her will tears spilled down her cheeks. "Say it," he whispered. "How could you kill her? How could you kill him? Why, Alex? Tell me, why?" She began to sob, the pain ripping at her heart. "Why?" "I will show you, Dana...then you can decide if there is such a thing as forgiveness." "Did you show Mulder?" she heard herself snarl as she jerked her chin free. For a second he stared at her then his faced twisted, whether in anger or pain she couldn't quite tell. "He showed me," he grated back. "I sought him out to sell him to the highest bidder-no surprises there, eh Dana?" "What happened?" For the first time since he had walked in her door Scully felt fear and a chill ran through her when Alex laughed, a low bitter sound that held no mirth. "You have no idea...hell, 48 hours ago, I had no idea." He looked away and Scully suddenly realized that Alex was, of all things, afraid of Alex. "It's like I told you. I heard that the Rebels had an interesting piece of merchandise. I was arrogant enough to believe I could get in and out of their lair in one piece. Well, I was right about them..." He took a breath and for a second she felt an emotion deeper than fear. "Remember what happened when Mulder came to?" She nodded, afraid to speak, afraid...not of Alex, she realized but of the deeper horror his anger and harshness were meant to conceal. "That was...the light version. By the time I walked into the house where they were holding Mulder he had been in "overdrive" for a week and all that time he had been surrounded by alien minds." Alex broke off, a fine tremor running through him. "When Mulder was first taken they basiclly performed an autopsy on a conscious man. He screamed your name until he could scream no more." "I heard him..." she whispered. She dared to look Alex in the face and saw her own horror reflected back at her. Alex swallowed and continued. "The Mulder I encountered was having his mind turned inside out. He was remembering everything, including things that Spender and his father never meant him to remember. And he was alone, screaming in his head with no one to hear him." Scully shuddered and was not surprised to see tears slip down Alex's face. "You heard him." He nodded. "He found my mind. He begged me to save him, he begged me to kill him, he begged me not to leave him...and then he gave me our past." "What I saw?" "Yes...and that he came back for me a day later...we got as far as the outer perimeter before they caught us." Alex broke off, hugging himself with one arm. "And you had no memory-" "I had...emotions-but they took my past as surely as they took Mulder's. When Mulder reached out to me I was that boy again." He began to rock and Scully, unable to stop herself, reached out, touching his shoulder. He froze, his face averted. "Alex," she whispered. "Alex, take me to where you are. Show me. Don't be alone in there. Show me." Gathering all her courage she slid her hand down his arm and over his hand, curling her fingers through his. A light flared and she saw the young Mulder kneeling beside her/Alex. She/Alex were on a bed and she realized that she/Alex were tied spread-eagled to the bedposts and that Mulder was holding one of Alex's bound hands. "Don't let go," Alex rasped, "oh God, please, don't let go-" Someone was above them but Alex kept his face turned towards Mulder. She could see Mulder was crying and as the first scream was ripped from Alex's throat he moaned and pressed his lips against their linked fingers. The scene faded only to be replaced by the sensation of being held, her/Alex's arms trapped in a grip of steel, while they writhed desperately to free themselves. "Don't touch him," Alex roared. "Don't-let him go. Do it to me...oh God, don't, don't-" She felt Alex jerk as hard as he could and he managed to shift them around to face a horror that froze her blood. Mulder was tied down as Alex had been and the man looming above him was ripping his clothes away from his body. Mulder was screaming but his cries were stifled by a gag and the man, oh God the man was his father...Again the scene faded and for a moment she was in the dark. Suddenly a door opened and she heard Spender tell Alex to move. They were back in the bedroom she had first seen and she/Alex staggered towards the bed where an unconscious Mulder lay, taking in the awful bruises that marked the corners of his mouth and circled his wrists. "It's your fault, Alex," Spender's voice cooed behind them. "It's all your fault." She heard the door close and Alex leaned over the bed, bringing the blanket up to cover the battered boy. As he did Mulder stirred. "Fox," Alex whispered. "Fox." Mulder's eyes opened and the fear and pain in them made Scully want to cry out. Instead she could only watch as Alex drew back as Mulder struggled to sit up. Immersed in Alex's memory she felt his guilt over what had been done and his fear of Mulder's reaction. The two boys stared at each other and then her heart wrenched as she saw Mulder's face collapse. Without hesitation Alex slid forward and pulled the trembling man into his arms. Mulder returned the embrace, clinging to Alex. He began to cry and she felt answering tears slipping down her/Alex's face. "I'm sorry, Fox...I'm so sorry." She could feel Mulder shake his head against their neck and choke back, "Not you..." His voice trailed off in a muffled wail of anguish and Alex's grip tightened. "I will kill him, Fox," Alex muttered, "I swear to you, I will kill him..." The awful tableau in her head faded and she pulled back just far enough to see that Alex's eyes were wide and dark and, for the moment, totally defenseless. Sensing the awful void at his center she threw both arms around his neck. Together they slipped down to the floor and she found herself cradled against his chest, his one arm hold her tightly as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, her tears sliding down his skin. Even as part of her mind still railed against Alex she knew in her heart she was crying for everything that had been done to her, to Mulder and to all the innocents including the boy Alex had been. For a second longer she clung to him, weeping for such lost innocence and then slowly pushed away. Alex instantly released her and she used his shoulder to push herself to her feet. "Alex." He looked up and she took in the damaged beauty of this man who had moved heaven and earth to bring her lover back to her. Mulder given her his heart but Alex, she realized, had just placed his soul in her hands. His very human and, to her way of thinking, immortal soul. It was too much. It was all too much and her heart quailed within her. "Let's get some rest...we need to rest." He nodded and, with her aid, pushed himself painfully up to his feet. She helped him slip on the long-sleeve shirt she had left with the jeans and then headed to the bedroom, knowing he would follow. Mulder and Doggett were just as she had left them and she sank gratefully down on the bed. She looked at Doggett whose expression became concerned as he took in her tear-stained faced. "Scully-" "It's okay, John." She saw him glare at Alex who had remained in the doorway and shook her head. "It's okay." She looked at Alex and held out her hand. He came forward and as he took her hand she tugged it, bringing him to sit down beside her. Before she was fully aware of what he was doing Alex tilted her sideways so she was lying beside Mulder. "Alex..." "Rest." He grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed and brought it up to cover her. "Rest." He stroked the hair from her forehead and against her best intentions she closed her eyes, letting his touch sooth her. "Alex?" she murmured. "Yeah?" "Don't leave us." His breath hitched above her and then his hand moved down, his thumb moved gently across her cheek. The last thing she heard before sleep claimed her was his whisper, "Hnkorxa cobcemhe." ("Never.") "The quality of mercy is not strained; It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath it." 24