Stasis by Katy Deery
Can be archived on the usual web pages should they wish to - Not ATXFCA
This is my way of trying to apply a self healing antidote to the CSM plague going around the list. M/K forever! (Sorry, no sex again - I'm saving that for another story)
By Katy Deery
Four days ago I heard the news. Four days. Such a small amount of time. At first I think I was in shock. I recognize the signs, the numbness, the feeling of being separate from my surroundings. Then all I wanted was to go back to the way things were, to go back to when Alex Krycek was still the same man he had always been.
To go back to a time when Fox Mulder was still alive.
The joke was, I never knew. I really never realized what his death would do to me. His death, the lack of his presence in my life. The lack of him, however ephemeral.
There were always good reasons for going back to him. I never questioned my motives. And now I realize that the biggest lie I ever told was to myself...and to him.
I'd never figured him for a suicide. He was always too committed, too driven to his goals. Of course that was how they got him in the end. Take away those goals, show him the lie, and what did he have? Nothing. When the report of his death was brought to me by one of my contacts, I refused to believe it. He'd been dead before after all. Two days worth of checking later and I knew that this time there would be no miraculous recovery. Mulder was dead. I would never see him again.
The hurt was incredible and shocking and frightening. I hadn't felt like this since I was a child and they took my parents away. This man was my enemy, there was no reason to mourn his passing. But mourn him I did, endlessly, bitterly, hopelessly. And after the pain had come a natural progression into another state.... Revenge.
"Don't bother getting up. This isn't a social call."
The man sitting in the chair paused with his cigarette raised halfway to his mouth.
"Alex. What a pleasant surprise. We really don't see enough of you these days." He drew in the smoke with a lover's delicacy and Krycek had to admire his poise.
Keeping distance between then, he studied his adversary. He didn't look well. If there was any justice in the world he might be paying the final price for his addiction. Not that it would matter either way for much longer.
"I'd offer you a coffee, but as I remember, you were always a tea drinker."
Krycek frowned. There was something wrong here. He wasn't reacting as expected. There was a tired, defeated look to this man of power, but no fear. Just resignation, almost a welcoming.
"You know why I'm here."
The man looked amused. "Of course. You're here to kill me."
Krycek was more puzzled than ever. "Do you think I won't do it?"
The man studied the glowing tip of his cigarette as if it held all the secrets to the universe. "On the contrary, I'm counting on your doing it."
Alex didn't let his gun hand falter. "Then you won't be disappointed." If the man thought he could psych him out he'd soon find out differently.
"I have just one question," the man queried politely. "Why now?"
Krycek considered this. He didn't owe this man any explanation, but he did owe someone else the truth. Let this moment of honesty be enough for both of them.
"Because of him. Because of what you did to him. You took away everything he believed in. You destroyed him. Now I'm going to return the favour."
The eyes that stared back at him were hooded, hiding a thousand mysteries. For a moment they seemed to darken in pain before returning to their normal opaque deceptiveness. "It was never my intention to drive Mulder to suicide. That was...a miscalculation."
Alex's smile would have corroded steel. "A miscalculation. Mulder's brains are splattered all over his apartment and you call it a miscalculation." He pressed closer, inhaling the fumes that exuded from this man's very pores, tasting the scent of his prey. "I am going to very much enjoy killing you. I just want you to know that."
The man seemed unmoved by his threat. "I was expecting someone, but I didn't think it would be you. Agent Scully perhaps, even Assistant Director Skinner, but not you."
"You knew someone was coming here?" He looked around nervously, not from any personal fear, only concerned that someone might stop him from completing his task.
"Don't worry, we are quite alone. I made sure of that." He settled back in his seat, flicking out another Morley and lighting it up. "I always had my suspicions about your feelings for Mulder. It seems I was right. I'm sorry."
Krycek almost dropped his gun in shock. God, this man was good. "My feelings are none of your damn business."
The man nodded. "No, perhaps not. It's just that we have something in common now, so that gives me a unique appreciation of your motives."
A unique appreciation? What the hell did that mean? The possibilities left a sick feeling in Krycek's stomach. What exactly was this man's relationship with Mulder?
Seeing the distaste on Alex's face, the man easily read the misinterpretation of his words.
"No, my feelings were not of a sexual nature." He inhaled, held the smoke for a long time before letting it out slowly like some ghostly spirit departing his body. "I have only ever been in love once in my life. It was my misfortune that the woman in question did not return my affection. We had an affair, it ended badly. I never forgot her."
Fascinated in spite of himself, Alex listened, taking a seat across from the man he had come to kill.
"Perhaps that would have been the end of it, but there was a consequence to our actions. Nine months later that consequence was born. She called him Fox."
To say that Alex was stunned was an understatement. Just the thought of this man as Mulder's father was too repugnant to bear. "I don't believe you."
The man didn't seem upset by his lack of acceptance. "It doesn't matter if you believe me or not. The truth remains the truth. I just needed to tell someone and you happened to be here." He motioned towards the gun. "I suggest you use that and then leave. They'll be looking for you."
Was that a threat? He didn't think so, merely a statement of fact. "I don't care."
The man smiled. "No, I don't suppose you do. It seems we have an equal understanding of the other's position then."
And suddenly he knew this man was not lying to him. He saw beneath the calm facade to the dead emptiness inside, recognized the grief of someone who had lost the only thing left to them. Who had lost their only son.
He stood up slowly and began to walk to the door.
The man's eyes followed his movements, at first with vague curiosity, then with panic.
Alex looked back. He wanted to see the pain, wanted to bathe in it. There would be no easy peace for this man. Not from him.
"I want you to spend every day and every night thinking about what you've done. I want you to die little by little until there's nothing left. Nothing. Just like it was for him." He smiled slowly, with feral hatred. "And maybe one day, if you're really lucky, I'll come back and finish the job." With one last avid glance, he opened the door and left.
Two weeks later Alex found out that Mulder was still alive.
(hee, hee, hee, sorry, couldn't help it. No sequel this time)