Disclaimers: I picked them up second-hand. Someone had badly
mistreated them. I'm calling the ASPCA.
Summary: Alex begins his recovery.
Notes: Thank you to everyone who has given me such wonderful support
for this series, including Marcia Elena who has done some stunning covers
which you can find on my site. And thanks to DeeJay for creating that
lovely hospital bed picture which pushed me in a very naughty direction.
"Ow."
"You're awake! Alex! Hey! Scully, he's awake."
"Hey, how're you feeling, Alex?"
"Um, I don't know yet. Actually. To tell you the truth."
I feel gentle fingers stroke through my hair, and shivering slightly, close
my eyes and sink into the almost painfully comforting sensation.
"S'okay, Alex. Just take it easy. You're safe."
Mulder's low voice rumbling just outside the shell of my ear causes more
shivers and I loll my head on the pillow with a small moan.
"Mmmmwhere am I?"
More stroking, more soft Mulder words.
"You're in a small, private hospital in a small, secluded town. You're
being treated under a false name. Scully took the bullet out of your
leg and sewed up your stab wound. You're actually doing pretty well,
except for the whole 'total exhaustion' thing."
The slight humor in the low voice pulls my eyes open to see the smile I
know will accompany it. As my eyes focus in on his, his lips curve up
higher and before I even realize it, I'm smiling in response, blinking dazedly.
Then as I sink into the blue-green irises just a foot from my own, my smile
turns into a frown.
"Oh, god, Mulder. They're going to kill you. Jesus. They're
going to kill you." I struggle to rise up out of bed, but his large,
graceful hand splays out over my chest and effortlessly presses me back
into the mattress. I'm weaker than I thought. I sigh heavily
and look to the side, frustrated and terrified.
"They already did, Alex," Mulder says in low voice, bending in close. "When
they made me believe it was all a lie, that there was nothing real in what
we had, I died. Nothing else mattered. I'd rather lose my life than
my soul, Alex."
I look back at him as I remember the pain I put in those eyes, and suddenly
my own are full of tears. I usually don't cry so easily, but I am
still so tired and weak, and there are some sort of drugs circulating in
my system. My face red and burning with shame, I lie there and close
my eyes against the hot rivers of tears soaking the hair at my temples and
running into my ears. I let myself fall into the desolation I'd not
allowed myself to experience during my efforts to get back to Base Three.
I can't even control the raw sobs working their way out of my throat.
Hearing the vulnerable noises only makes things worse and I squeeze my eyes
tight, grasping the sheets in my fists, and try to stop the desperate weeping
that's taking over my entire body.
Mulder lifts away from me for a moment, and I think he's asking Scully
to leave, because I hear a door close softly. Then I feel the warm
length of his upper body gently lay itself down on mine, thumbs brushing
gently over my lashes, brushing away the tears as they pour out.
"Shhhhh...I know. I know." It's all he says, but his touch
says more, his lips soft against my eyelids, then cheeks, then brushing
my lips, his hands stroking down over my shoulders and arms as he lays himself
atop my body. I raise my arms to wrap them around him and without
meaning to, find myself gripping him in a painful embrace, squeezing him
so hard it hampers both our efforts to breathe normally and puts pressure
on my wounded side. He doesn't fight it though, just breathing shallowly
and stroking me slowly until I relax my hold on him little by little, until
I just hold him tightly, shaking him with the tremors of my sobs.
"No matter what I say, Mulder," I choke out, my voice raspy and low. "No
matter what I might ever tell you, I love you more than my own life. Nothing...and
I mean nothing in this godforsaken world means anything to me without you.
Don't ever, ever let anyone convince you otherwise. Not even me."
"Okay, Alex. It's okay." His voice is soothing and somewhat
patronizing, and I know he's only trying to calm me down. I breathe
in deeply and use my hands to push him up a few inches away from me so I can
look into his eyes. They're ringed with wet lashes as well, the thin
tear tracks cutting down his cheeks, small drops falling off his jaw.
I blink through my own haze of moisture.
"I mean it," I say firmly, gripping his arms somewhat painfully.
"I don't know what they might do next, or what I might be forced to do.
Promise me. Promise me, Mulder, that you will always, always know
that I will never ever stop loving you." I stare at him, willing him
to feel my intent.
"I promise," he whispers, eyes blinking rapidly. I relax my grip,
knowing he's heard me, and he lays back down on top of me, nestling his wet
face against my neck. We lay like that for a few moments, until we both
start to notice the discomfort, then he pulls back and takes his seat in
the chair next to my bed.
"What are we gonna do?" I ask, hating the hopelessness and need in my voice,
but unable and unwilling to mask anything in front of this man again.
Mulder lays his hands on my arm and squeezes it gently.
"Scully and I actually have a plan, Alex. And Skinner's already in,
too."
I frown but say nothing, not allowing the least bit of hope to unclench
my stomach.
"What kind of plan?" I'm sure he can tell by my voice that I'm skeptical.
If he's going to propose anything that puts his life in danger, I won't
go for it. I'll figure something else out. I'll engineer my
own death if I have to, and make it look like an accident.
What is it that they say about great minds?
"Alex, as far as anyone else knows, you're in custody at the Hoover building,
recovering from near fatal injuries. No one knows that you rescued
me, and no one else but us knows the extent of your actual damage.
Skinner has made out to everyone that you're in critical condition, being
guarded round the clock by none other than yours truly, the arresting officer
and your greatest enemy."
I narrow my eyes. I'm hesitant to let myself think this might be
a halfway decent idea. He continues.
"Tonight, you're going to die under mysterious circumstances, and I'm going
to be strongly implicated in your death. No one will know that I ever
had anything but hatred for you, including the Syndicate sources within
and outside of the Bureau. After a formal inquest, not enough evidence
will be found to convict me, but I will receive censure and termination."
"No! Mulder, you can't give up your job!" I try to rise up
again and once more feel those powerful hands holding me down.
"Settle down, Alex. This is my choice, not yours."
"The hell it is. I won't let you give up your life for me, Mulder.
I won't let you resent me for it later. That job is your life.
It's everything to you."
He blinks, eyes narrowing, mouth firming into a white line. It's
the look he used to get before he hit me. I swear to god, I almost
flinch.
"You won't let me give up my job, but you'll yank my soul out by the roots
and trample it under your fucking boots? You think that was less painful
than giving up my fucking job? You want to talk about resentment,
Alex? You want to talk about losing your life? I swear to fucking
god if you weren't already in a hospital bed, I'd kick your arrogant ass."
I believe it. Anyone would if they could see what's flashing in those
dark eyes.
"I...I...don't..." I sputter feebly.
"No. You obviously don't," he interrupts me, sitting back in his
chair, no longer touching me. He levels that intense glare right at
me, challenging me to defy him.
What am I, stupid?
"And then what?" I say quietly, ducking my head a little. His face
immediately relaxes and I see him take a deep breath.
"Then we use this," and he pulls the original DAT from his pocket with
an understatedly dramatic flourish, "to sabotage them from the outside.
And you tell us what our next step is to keep this planet free."
I feel my mouth drop open. I close it with a quiet snap of my teeth.
"From...what base of operations?"
"Well, that's trickier, of course," says Mulder with that tone of voice
that says he's figured out how to make pigs fly. "But I have some ideas,
and I have some friends, and I have some money, too." He shrugs offhandedly.
"We'll do it."
And Mulder makes me believe it. He doesn't really leave me any choice,
crossing his arms in front of his chest as if to say he's not going anywhere
until I let him have his way. I stare at him and he stares back, and
I'll admit I'm the first one to blink. He practically smirks.
Not quite, but practically. I sigh, knowing when I've been beaten.
"All right. What's our next step?"
*Now* he smiles. That slow, full, dazzling smile he gives you when
he gets what he wants. I give him what he wants as often as I possibly
can, and not just because I want to see that smile again.
"Leave that to me," he says, and I bristle, because I can almost hear him
telling me not to worry my pretty little head. "My friends will be
here this evening to take you to a safehouse, while Scully and I go back
and see to your untimely death."
"What friends?"
"The only ones I've ever trusted beyond a shadow of a doubt, Alex. I'll
introduce you when they get here. I've already told them all about you."
He grins and I can't help but smile slightly in response, loving the proud
and possessive look on his face.
"Just...what all have you told them?" I ask carefully, brows furrowed.
"Well, they're going to be an integral part of this whole project. We've
done a lot of talking and they've committed to the entire thing, from beginning
to end. They're going to be on our team, Alex, and there are no secrets
on our team. I told them everything." He gives me a look so
intent it makes me shift slightly. "Everything."
I let out my breath, my brain spinning as I try to comprehend these strangers
knowing what I've done in my misguided life and still agreeing to work with
me on a quest to save the world from extraterrestrial takeover.
Mulder truly is a fucking miracle worker. I'll never doubt him again.
Not that I ever did.
"I'll have to be out of touch for a few weeks until the inquest is over
and your body's been laid to rest," he continues. "Scully's going to
take care of the autopsy, and she's already gathered the necessary blood and
tissue samples. Once I've been relieved of duty, I'll have to wait another
few weeks before I join you. I'm going to have someone fake a couple
of attempts on my life to make it look like I have reason to go on the run.
Then I do it. I disappear, and when the search for me de-escalates,
we can put our own plans in motion."
"And...what do we do in the meantime?" I don't really care, but I
feel like I should say something.
"Plant cucumbers or some shit. Hell, who cares?" he says, leaning
forward in the chair and touching me once again. My whole body responds
to having his hands on me again and I relax into the sheets and blankets,
feeling his energy center me.
"Cucumbers." I give him a crook of the eyebrow.
"What? You got something against cucumbers, Alex?" he asks, face
serious.
I keep my expression similarly somber. "I prefer zucchinis."
His eyes narrow, head tilting, as he tries to see behind my passive expression
to the mischief behind it. I can't help myself. I stroke the
tip of my tongue against the corner of my mouth and raise my eyebrows.
He swallows, eyes narrowing further. "Zucchinis, then."
I can't help but smile at him then, and his somber facade cracks as well,
his lips quirking up in a half-grin.
"So, your friends are taking me where?"
"Safe house," he replies, purposely vague. His eyes cut to the side
and I nod almost imperceptibly. Yeah, it would be kind of stupid to
talk about here and now. His thumbs rub my arm slowly.
"When?" I chance a look at the clock on the wall and see it's just
after three.
"Around eight o'clock," he answers, now meeting my eyes squarely.
"Sooooo...what do we do in the meantime?"
Now he really smiles. One corner of his mouth coming up at a time,
until he's stretching those perfect lips over those dangerous teeth, then
baring them slightly. My heart's already beating faster. He
doesn't say anything, pinning me with his gaze, leaning in slowly, smoothly,
his eyes flicking from my eyes to my lips, giving away the game. I
lay there paralyzed, waiting for the inevitable, breath already coming in
shallow, excited little pants.
He seals his mouth to mine smoothly, firmly, completely, and I feel his
tiny moan vibrate against my lips. And I'm lost, grunting helplessly
as his face presses mine down into the pillows, his mouth slowly opening on
mine, his tongue pushing insistently against my lips, which open eagerly,
drawing him in with a moan. My hands are already stroking up and down
his back again, this time scratching at the fabric of his suit, cursing
its existence and ability to keep me from what's mine. I seem to be
getting some of my energy back, kicking down the hospital blankets as he
pushes them down my hips. Never thought I'd be grateful for a flimsy little
white gown, but it sure makes access easy as I feel his large, hot hands
slide up under the hem. Immediately, one of them wraps my stiff cock
in a firm grip as the other brushes up my right side toward my pecs.
"Ah!" I cry out into his mouth as his excited hand inadvertently strokes
over my stab wound, thoroughly stitched and bandaged, but still quite tender.
"God! Alex, I'm sorry!" Mulder raises his mouth off mine, softening
his grip on my dick and jerking his hand away from my side. That's
certainly not what I was trying to accomplish by expressing my discomfort.
But it does give me the opportunity to start getting us even in the clothing
department. The concern and pain in his eyes slows me just a little
as I start raking the suit jacket down his shoulders, but I stare intently
in his eyes, letting my *need* for him gleam hotly, and his expression relaxes
and he removes his hand from my cock, dammit, but he needs both hands to
very quickly tear off his jacket, tie and shirt so I don't complain...much.
"Mulder...door," I gasp, helpless against the need to touch him, running
my hands up his long, lean flanks even as I'm telling him to go away from
me to lock the door. His mouth firms irritably and he walks across
the room, shirtless and beautiful, and quickly turns the lock, then with
a grin even more predatory than before, he pulls the privacy curtain all
the way around the bed and steps back over to me.
I'm naked, having reached up behind me and ripped the ties open so I could
fling the useless, embarrassing hospital gown to the floor. I'm laid out
naked, knees bent, legs spread in invitation, watching him stalk toward me,
hands on his belt, working furiously.
"God, Mulder, I didn't think I'd ever..."
"I know," he hushes me, nodding and snapping his belt open, impatiently
pushing his pants and shorts to the floor and kicking off his shoes.
He bends to the floor and half a second later the pants, underwear, shoes
and socks are gone and it's all naked Mulder from here on out.
"I...I don't know how I thought I could ever live without this," I choke
out as he walks over and without preamble shuts me up by pushing his tongue
into my mouth. He climbs onto the small bed and situates himself carefully
between my legs, careful now of both the wound in my side and the one in
my thigh. I'm moaning into his mouth and my hands are clutching, stroking,
scratching, trying to feel as much flesh as possible all at once, my hips
raising off the bed despite the pain that lances through my injuries, my
cock running the show, pain running a distant third after lust and love.
"I knew I couldn't," he murmurs against my lips, and I squint my eyes against
the pain and focus instead on the fact that Mulder's hot, silky shaft is
now sliding and pressing against my own. He leans on one arm to keep
from lying on my body, moving his hips gently but firmly, humping me as he
sucks my tongue. I want him to fuck me, but I can tell by the way he's
so careful not to put any weight on me, as well as the very focused way he
is rubbing our cocks together, that he doesn't think it's a good idea.
He's probably right, but I don't really care right now if Scully might have
to sew me back up afterward. I just want him in me.
I start to writhe, groaning into his mouth, trying to lift my legs and
clue him in to my intentions. His large, warm hand strokes down my
uninjured side and presses my thigh back down into the mattress and I scowl
against his lips and feel them grin back before he distracts me by shoving
his tongue more deeply, fucking me with it the way he knows I'm trying to
get him to fuck me with his cock. I make another attempt, now trying
to turn myself over and thereby avoid the whole leg-raising issue, but the
loud gasp Mulder swallows as my lacerated side stretches makes him lay out
full on me, pressing my body into the bed firmly.
He pulls his mouth off me and he's frowning and licking our saliva from
his lips. I just stare back, only able to think of how I'm still *not*
getting what I want here. Then he places his strong hands on my hips,
holding me firmly in place as he raises up on his knees between my legs.
"Knock it off, Alex," he warns. "I'll leave right now if you don't
quit trying to rip your wounds open with your stupid attempts to get fucked."
"Fuck me," I breathe persistently, raising my hips off the bed with
my one good leg, spreading wide for him. He can't help but look down
at my bobbing, red, dripping cock as I undulate for him.
"Jesus fucking..." he swears, his hands gripping my hips nearly painfully
as I all but impale myself on him. "All right, Alex," he finally growls,
"but I call *all * the shots. Got it?" He squeezes my hips painfully
for emphasis, stilling my movements. I nod vigorously, panting.
"Just tell me what to do."
He smiles at that, eyes darkening, and I can tell I've said the magic words.
"Hold your hurt leg still," he says, stroking his hand down over the thigh
very gently for emphasis. I force it to stay put, eyes wide, imploring
him to get on with it. He slides his other hand down the inside of
my other thigh and my eyes flutter closed as my breath leaves in a long sigh.
He slides his hand under my thigh and slowly lifts it up and out.
"Spread this one as wide as you can," he says quietly, his voice getting
lost in his own breathing. I lift it up and to the side, and he slides
his arm around it, holding and supporting it in the crook of his elbow.
He moves to the side, sliding his own long, hard, slim bent leg under it,
moving his cock closer and closer to my ass.
"Mmmyeah..." I encourage him, lifting my hips and helping him lift my pelvis
up onto his lap carefully. Yeah, it hurts the wound in my side, but
not seriously, and I keep my promise, making no moves that I think will
rip out stitches, letting him lay my body over his. It's nice, feeling
his warm, careful, strong hands lift and push and shift me, bunching up the
blanket and, shoving it under my hips for support. I feel like a big
fucktoy being positioned just right for my Fox.
He smiles down at me as he wriggles his hips one last time, his own cock
drooling and smearing precum on his belly as he gets himself in place. He
reaches to the small bedside table and grabs up a tube of seriously overpriced
hand lotion. He's very serious and intent as he squeezes out a palmful,
not meeting my eyes, focused only on his task. He puts the lotion
down slowly and I'm gritting my teeth now, thoroughly fed up with his caution
and patience. But I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to make him rethink
he decision to carefully fuck me.
"Does anything hurt?" he asks, as he gently reaches back behind my balls
and starts massaging the warmed lotion into my asshole.
"Gah! Only my dick," I gasp out, trying not to wriggle against his
careful assault.
"Slut," he smiles, running his slippery thumb in a circle around and around
against the tight muscle, then pushing in just as his other lotion-slicked
hand closes around my cock.
"God!" I can't help it, raising my hips up off the blankets, and
fuck it does hurt my side, and I immediately fall back on the blanket as
Mulder uses the grip he has on my dick to push my hips back down.
"Do that shit anymore," he breathes, slowly fucking me with his thumb,
"and I'll just get up and get dressed and you'll have to wait three weeks
for your fuck."
"I won't...I won't..." I promise, eyes closing as I make myself go still,
letting him move his thumb inside me, his hand now slowly starting to move
up and down my dick. "Just please, do it...now..."
The pressure of his thumb inside me increases as he presses and pulls that
no-longer-very-reluctant muscle, stretching it open and ready for him. He's
big, but he knows I like it when it hurts some, so he only preps me as much
as is necessary before pulling his thumb away and wrapping that hand around
the base of his own cock, getting ready to guide it in.
He breathes twice, hard. "Just let me do this, Alex," he warns, shifting
into place between my thighs, his cockhead rubbing slick against the insides
of my thighs. I can't even tell him yes, I only nod, willing myself
not to move, eyes rolling back in my head. I feel the tip of his dick
line up with my opening and he *pushes*. It squeezes in past the ring
of protesting muscle, and I can't help but make a little sound of delicious
distress. I force my eyes open because I have to see him in this state
of almost- there, about to sink himself inside me.
His eyes are closed, but trying to open, lips parted on gasping breaths
as he maintains his control. I know how he wants to just ram it in,
because he's done it before and we both like it that way. But instead,
he firms his lips, tightening his jaw, and he pushes in slow and easy, pulling
on my hips to ease his entry without jostling my body too much.
It's so good it hurts, and not just in my cock. I feel my eyes well
with tears and curse the meds and exhaustion, knowing that's not what's
taking away my pride but not willing to concede that my love for this man
is so strong that sometimes the only way it can come out is in tears, much
like I know that for so long, his came out for me in violence and curses.
His eyes open and he sees me looking at him, sees my eyes shining with this
mad love, and I watch his dark eyes well up in response. He sighs long
and slow, letting his body settle in as his cock nestles into my body up
to the root.
He stops like that, just staring down at me, and my hands are fisting the
bedcovers with my attempts not to move.
"Tell me you're mine," he whispers, and his voice is cracked, nearly broken,
and it breaks *me* and the tears stream down my temples and into my hair.
I have to take a moment, squinting against the wet distraction, wanting
to say what I'm feeling instead of just letting it pour down my face.
He waits, throbbing inside me, staring down at me patiently.
"Mulder, I've never been anyone else's," I say, and it's not enough.
It doesn't tell him what's inside, what makes me breathless and scared and
dizzy. "I...I think I loved you before I ever met you," I continue,
my own voice so husky I can barely hear it. His eyes squint and blink,
and I think it's reaching him. "I never, ever thought I'd get to have
you," I continue, fighting against the old memories of having him within
arm's reach and not being able to touch. "I never believed I'd ever
do anything to deserve that." I can't speak anymore. My throat
has closed and it's holding back the sobs that threaten to shake us both
to pieces. Because I don't deserve him. I've never done anything
to deserve this. But I want to. I want to spend the rest of my
life earning this.
"Alex," he rasps, then bites that fat lower lip so hard I can see the teeth
marks left behind. "I didn't think you'd ever stop hurting me long
enough to let me love you."
Fuck it, I'm a goner. I keep it silent, but my body is wracked with
the force of my tears, my chest squeezing painfully as I struggle not to
fall apart completely. "I wanted to so much," he goes on, his own voice
choked and full of tears. "It hurt so much that you wouldn't let me.
More than you'll ever know."
I breathe it back, gathering focus. Gathering control over my body
and voice.
"Love me," I whisper, and I close my eyes, relaxing my body, giving it
up utterly to his use.
And he begins to move.
My mouth falls open as he rocks his body into mine, staying deep, working
slow and hard, making me weak.
"Ohhhhh..." I moan, breathing out the tension, letting my body accept and
receive him as he works our bodies together. His throat is letting
out a deep, continuous moan as he struggles to keep himself from letting
go, and his control is what ultimately makes me lose mine. His slippery,
hot hand starts sliding up and down my cock and I cry out loudly, using
every force of will to keep my body laid out as all my love for this man
is forced from my body, spurting hot all over his hand, my belly, his thighs,
and the white sheets.
"Yeah...yeah...yeah..." I hear vaguely, then he's pushing in hard and deep
and tight as his body jolts and shudders and jerks against mine and he gasps
his release out as quietly as possible so as not to alert anyone to the
therapy going on behind the blue curtain.
His body bows forward but doesn't fall on mine, his head hanging low, the
sweat dripping from the tips of his hair onto my stomach as he hangs over
me, panting. I reach up carefully now that he's within touching distance
and place my hands on his dewy hot shoulders, stroking helplessly, wanting
him against me so bad I'd be willing to kill or die for it. He catches
his breath then slowly eases himself out of me, lowering my leg and moving
back to give me room.
"I need to feel you," I say, reaching up for him and trying to make room
on the bed for him to lie down. "Please," I say as he surveys the
situation, frowning. Finally, hearing the desperation in my voice,
he lowers himself onto my good side, both of us grateful that both injuries
are on the right half of my body as he drapes his hot, slippery body over
the left. We must look ridiculous, two big men trying to lie together
on a tiny hospital bed but I think I'd growl and bite anyone who tried to
take him off of me right now.
I feel his body relax in stages until he's hot and heavy and finally all
tension is gone. He lays his head on the pillow next to mine, pressing
a sloppy kiss on my lips before settling in, one arm up under the pillow,
one draped over my chest, ignoring the cooling semen. My left arm
is trapped between our two bodies, pressed against his sticky, spent cock,
and I move my fingers mischievously and he grunts, shifting a little.
I smile and bring my other arm up, still careful of the stab wound in my
side, and rest my hand on his. I want to stay awake and savor the
hot, heavy, sweaty, musky, cum- scented moment, but I feel sleep drag me
under and I'm both lost to and grounded by his body on top of mine.
