Rat in a Hole
by Satina and Shannon
Date First Posted: 3/24/05Rating: R * Pairing: M/K
Archive Permissions: Freely given, but please use HTML format to preserve the IM quality.
Disclaimers: Mulder and Krycek are not my characters. They belong to Fox and Chris Carter.
Warnings: This is one fucked-up rat.
Summary:
This takes place after Apocrypha. Krycek has gotten out of the silo with his body relatively intact, but what about his mind?
Feedback Welcomed HERE.
Return to The M/K Shrine
ratInAH0le: hi Mulder. hows it hangin?
Sucker4Vampz: Who is this?ratInAH0le: dont tell me youve left more than one rat in one hole
Sucker4Vampz: You play games, I'm gonna block you. If you have something to say to me, tell me who you are.
ratInAH0le: oh im done playing games. this is Alex Krycek, youre rat-ace in teh hole. im out. surprise.
Sucker4Vampz: You're alive.
ratInAH0le: yeah im so sorryabou that, really. i hate to ruin your night.
Sucker4Vampz: What do you want?
ratInAH0le: isnt ruining your night enough?
Sucker4Vampz: By IMing me? C'mon, Krycek, you can do better than that. I've seen it.
ratInAH0le: yeah. youve seen so much. your fist in my face, your phone.. that was nice. great shot.
ratInAH0le: and then you saw me infected with that oil and didn't see me. didnt see IT..saw NOTHING
ratInAH0le: wahts matter Mulder? rat got your tongue?
Sucker4Vampz: What do you want from me?
ratInAH0le: oh there's so many things, Mulder. Where do I FUCKING START!!!!
Sucker4Vampz: I guess with the first one, Krycek.
ratInAH0le: oh please. as if. youre tracing this. you dont actually WANT a list of the ways youve FUCKED things.
Sucker4Vampz: The ways *I've* fucked things???
Sucker4Vampz: Oh yes, yes I do, Krycek.
ratInAH0le: what i want from you...whatiwant... for starters...you see whats in front of your perfect fucking FACE.
ratInAH0le: some investagator you are... Dont know a ratfuck from an alien oil. when thats what youre LOOKING FOR. thanks for that. thanks for nothing.
Sucker4Vampz: I don't know you well enough to know the difference. Whose fault is that??
ratInAH0le: you can ASK me that????
Sucker4Vampz: No, I can TELL you that.
ratInAH0le: yourfault, fucker. you...way back when. shutupshutupshutUP!!!!!!!!!!!
Sucker4Vampz: My fault? How is it my fault?
ratInAH0le: YOU NEVER CHOSE ME
ratInAH0le: SO I DIDNT CHOOSE YOU
ratInAH0le: fuck you!
ratInAH0le: fucking fuck you!
Sucker4Vampz: I never chose you? What are you talking about?
ratInAH0le: shutup, cant understand he'll neverneverunderstand
ratInAH0le: SECOND
ratInAH0le: what I want
Sucker4Vampz: Wait. I want to understand.
ratInAH0le: like HELL!!!!
Sucker4Vampz: Krycek, I'm still here. I could have blocked you.
ratInAH0le: TRACING ME
Sucker4Vampz: And you're blocking any attempts to trace you.
ratInAH0le: butyoulie
ratInAH0le: youlielikeme
Sucker4Vampz: How do I lie?
ratInAH0le: go get us a CAR... manipulation rookie car keys Alex
Sucker4Vampz: All right. I lied.
ratInAH0le: ALEX!!!
Sucker4Vampz: And manipulated.
ratInAH0le: screamedyourname
Sucker4Vampz: What?
ratInAH0le: second thing i want.
ratInAH0le: turn back time, g-man.
ratInAH0le: get me OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sucker4Vampz: You're already out.
ratInAH0le: gee THANKS MOTHER FUCKER!
ratInAH0le: screamedyou
ratInAH0le: everynightnow
ratInAH0le: YOU!
Sucker4Vampz: I couldn't.
ratInAH0le: couldntwouldntshouldntcantwontshant
Sucker4Vampz: No, the cigarette man was there, and he arrested me.
ratInAH0le: he ARRESTED you? did he cuff you? beat you? burn you? tie you?
ratInAH0le: cuffyoubeatyouburnyoutieyou
ratInAH0le: mememememememememememe
Sucker4Vampz: No, we were just taken out of the silo by armed guards and forced into the back of a military truck at gunpoint.
ratInAH0le: arrest. from french. is it? arret. stop. he stopped you. stoppedyoufrom gettingtome myhero
Sucker4Vampz: Yes, he stopped me.
ratInAH0le: where did he take you? base? mind alter? drugsbeatingschaos?
ratInAH0le: or motel for goodnightsleep
Sucker4Vampz: Processing, then released.
ratInAH0le: did ANYBODY ONCE HITYOU???
Sucker4Vampz: No.
ratInAH0le: did you stay in ND? i hear its nice above ground.
Sucker4Vampz: We flew back to D.C.
ratInAH0le: gettheheckoutofdodge...
ratInAH0le: ratsmallerandsmallerandsmallerinrearviewmir ror
Sucker4Vampz: I wanted to go back. I figured he'd be there and just stop us again.
ratInAH0le: camp out at silo? fun. fun for him to wait for you, centeroftheUNIVERSE.
Sucker4Vampz: So you're saying he left, then.
ratInAH0le: youTRUSTEDhim TRUSTED HIM!!!!
Sucker4Vampz: I didn't trust him.
ratInAH0le: knewhedgetmeout... didgetmeout... fivedaysthere, fivenightsthere... nofoodwaternothing... is that what you thought he WOULDNT do?
ratInAH0le: wouldntshouldntdidnt
ratInAH0le: didididididididid
Sucker4Vampz: You belonged to him. Figured he'd want you back.
ratInAH0le: STUPID!
ratInAH0le: STUPID FUCKINGASS
Sucker4Vampz: I was right, wasn't I? He did want you back!
ratInAH0le: wrongwrongwrong and dont even know how wrongwrongwrong
Sucker4Vampz: He got you out, though, right?
ratInAH0le: appeasemuldersconsciencenow. lethimthinkhesyourhero.
ratInAH0le: youre my hero, Mulder. yes, he got me out. 5 days of thrist, hunger, sickness, and he got me outtoBEATME!! THANK YOUMULDER!
ratInAH0le: not his took his tape not his you knew that stupidstupidstupid
Sucker4Vampz: I knew you had taken the tape, yes. But I also knew you had been working for him.
ratInAH0le: working for him and stole HIS TAPE. wheres your brain when I need it?
Sucker4Vampz: Why is it my job to help you get away from him?
ratInAH0le: not that. not that.just not endorse my murder. not kill me yourself. close your eyes and nod... byebyeratbyebye.
Sucker4Vampz: I didn't endorse your murder.
ratInAH0le: DID IT YOURSELF!
Sucker4Vampz: You're not dead.
ratInAH0le: nothankstoyou
ratInAH0le: leftmecryingyourfuckingname
Sucker4Vampz: I didn't hear that.
Sucker4Vampz: I didn't hear you.
ratInAH0le: did not see first, did not see. maybe would have heard...bird in your gut...cheepcheep...if you had seen.
Sucker4Vampz: Krycek, what do you mean I didn't see?
ratInAH0le: airport, airplane, carcarcar flashflashflash longtimenosee but you wanna believe...
ratInAH0le: so you say
Sucker4Vampz: You're right. I should have seen.
ratInAH0le: whynotwhynotwhnot
Sucker4Vampz: Because I closed myself off from you. To protect myself.
ratInAH0le: neverhityou
Sucker4Vampz: There are more ways to hurt a person, Krycek. Lots more ways. Worse than physical pain.
ratInAH0le: hurtyouyes didididid killedme4it dididid turnedoffeyes ears touchturnedofftouch turnedyourback
ratInAH0le: nevercowardbefore...whyTHIS?!
Sucker4Vampz: I told you, I was protecting myself.
ratInAH0le: so nothurt KILL
ratInAH0le: SHUT UP! iknowwhy...knowhurtyou...
Sucker4Vampz: I don't want to kill you.
ratInAH0le: lethimhaveme whatdidyouthinkwouldhappen
Sucker4Vampz: I didn't let myself think about that. Mostly.
ratInAH0le: butbeatofftoitfewtimes...
Sucker4Vampz: What? Beat off to it? To what???
ratInAH0le: the idea of my torture. see how nice a rat can tyype?
ratInAH0le: eeven after fingers torn twobroken
Sucker4Vampz: NO! I didn't beat off to it! God...
Sucker4Vampz: I should have gone back. I'm sorry.
ratInAH0le: SORRY
ratInAH0le: wouldbeenuff4mebesorry2YOU?!
Sucker4Vampz: Maybe. If you really were.
Sucker4Vampz: And if I knew you wouldn't hurt me anymore.
Sucker4Vampz: If I felt safe.
ratInAH0le: nottruenottrueTRACINGnottrue
Sucker4Vampz: I'm not tracing you. I never was.
Sucker4Vampz: I knew you'd be one step ahead of me, as always. I didn't even bother.
ratInAH0le: LIAR! WANT ME DEAD!
Sucker4Vampz: No. I don't.
ratInAH0le: YESYOUDO!!!!!!
ratInAH0le: wantmedeadwantmedeadwantmedead... gonnagetyourwish.
Sucker4Vampz: What?
ratInAH0le: typingwithonehandgunintheother
Sucker4Vampz: No, Krycek, don't!
Sucker4Vampz: Krycek listen to me I dont' want you dead!
Sucker4Vampz: pUt it down!
ratInAH0le: waytocybermulder... strokethegunmulder strokethetrigger
Sucker4Vampz: NO
Sucker4Vampz: ALEX PUT THAT FUCKING GUN DOWN RIGHT THIS FUCKING MINUTE!
Sucker4Vampz: DO YOU HEAR ME??????
ratInAH0le: fuckyou
Sucker4Vampz: PUT IT DOWN
ratInAH0le: MULDER!!!!!!
Sucker4Vampz: Alex, please, put it down.
ratInAH0le: doncallmethat
ratInAH0le: dontcareyoudontcareboutmenone
Sucker4Vampz: Damn you, yes I do!
ratInAH0le: just dont want to feel GUILTY!!!
Sucker4Vampz: I care, Alex!
Sucker4Vampz: I do feel guilty, you're right, but that's not all!
Sucker4Vampz: I know I never gave you a chance!
Sucker4Vampz: Yes, you were a spy but I didn't know that and you might not have been!
ratInAH0le: kissinmyassmulderthatsallitis
Sucker4Vampz: You might not have fucked me over if I hadn't been such a PRICKto you!
Sucker4Vampz: I didn't even try, Alex, and I'm sorry!
Sucker4Vampz: There are things you want from me.
Sucker4Vampz: You can't get them if you don't put that gun down NOW.
ratInAH0le: downinahole losinmysoul
Sucker4Vampz: I'll help you find it.
ratInAH0le: leftitthere
Sucker4Vampz: NO, no you didn't.
Sucker4Vampz: You IM'd me. You knew I'd help you.
ratInAH0le: knewicouldgetyoutofeelguilty
ratInAH0le: feelguilty
Sucker4Vampz: I do! I do feel guilty really fucking guilty but that's not all of it!!!
ratInAH0le: screamedyournamemulder
Sucker4Vampz: I didn't know that! I'm sorry!
Sucker4Vampz: Alex! Talk to me!
Sucker4Vampz: I failed you! I know that now! I failed you when I didn't SEE what they were doing, using you to get to me, and I failed you when I didn't SEE YOU looking out from behind dead eyes, and I FAILED you when I didn't go back for you and
Sucker4Vampz: I'M SORRY!!!!!
Sucker4Vampz: I'm not gonna fail you again, Alex.
Sucker4Vampz: Dammit, Alex, talk to me!
Sucker4Vampz: I can do it! I can be what you need me to be! What you thought I was.
Sucker4Vampz: I didn't know you needed me, Alex.
Sucker4Vampz: I didn't know!!!!!!
ratInAH0le: muldermuldermuldermulder MULDER! MULDER! MULDER!!!!!!
ratInAH0le: HELP ME MULDER!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sucker4Vampz: I will. I will help you, Alex. Did you put the gun down?
ratInAH0le: down in a hole
Sucker4Vampz: No, put the gun down. You're out of the hole. I'm going to keep you out.
ratInAH0le: keep? me?
Sucker4Vampz: Is that what you want?
Sucker4Vampz: Alex?
Sucker4Vampz: Is that what you want? For me to keep you? To be mine instead of theirs?
ratInAH0le: keepmechoosemeratratrat notgonnahappenratratratSucker4Vampz: Yes, it is. I choose you, Alex. If you choose me, I choose you.. I'll keep you. You'll be MINE not THEIRS.
ratInAH0le: keep?
Sucker4Vampz: Yes. Keep.
ratInAH0le: ifbullshitgonnaPULLTHIS TRIGGER!
Sucker4Vampz: It's not bullshit. I always wanted you to choose me, Alex.
Sucker4Vampz: That's why it HURT so fucking MUCH.
Sucker4Vampz: You were supposed to be MINE. My sweet, young, loyal partner.
Sucker4Vampz: And you chose THEM
Sucker4Vampz: But if you choose me, I choose you, Alex. Do you choose me?
ratInAH0le: madatmuldersadsadsaddontwannbeanymore
ratInAH0le: pieceofmulderintheholewithrat
Sucker4Vampz: Piece of Mulder? How, Alex?
ratInAH0le: screamedyourname...leftitthereecho
Sucker4Vampz: Alex, I'm sorry. I fucked up. I won't fuck up again. If you give me your trust, I will not close my eyes to you again. I will not close my heart to you again.
ratInAH0le: heartstopbeat startbeat hurts keepacrazyrat, crazy?
Sucker4Vampz: You're not crazy. You're upset. You just need to calm down. And put down the gun.
ratInAH0le: imafracturedrat
Sucker4Vampz: I know, Alex. And I'm gonna help put you back together.
ratInAH0le: possessmeplease dontwantless need owned rat will put gun down if owned.
Sucker4Vampz: You'll be all mine, Alex. Mine. Not theirs, mine. I won't let them take you away again.
ratInAH0le: takecarenotkill?
Sucker4Vampz: I will take care of you. No, I will not kill you. Or let anyone else. You're MINE.
Sucker4Vampz: Be a good rat and put the gun down.
ratInAH0le: gun down.
Sucker4Vampz: Good. Good, Alex.
ratInAH0le: wanto wanto be good rat neverbeen though
Sucker4Vampz: If you want to be, I'll help you.
Sucker4Vampz: I had a pet rat in college. I like rats a lot.
ratInAH0le: cokemethcrazyratnow wont want me
Sucker4Vampz: I rescued him from a lab. He was sick, too. His name was Sidney.
ratInAH0le: sidneysicklikealex
Sucker4Vampz: Yes, he was. Poisoned.
ratInAH0le: lab rats both
Sucker4Vampz: And he was hurt.
Sucker4Vampz: Yes. You were both lab rats, owned by cruel masters, mistreated and misused.
ratInAH0le: canucomegetme?
Sucker4Vampz: Yes, Alex, where are you?
ratInAH0le: motelstolenlaptop
Sucker4Vampz: Where is the motel? What city?
Sucker4Vampz: What state?
ratInAH0le: Baltimore. made it here. cokecokecokesorry.
ratInAH0le: pleasant glade... soundslikeassistedliving
ratInAH0le: smellsworsethansilo
Sucker4Vampz: LOL...see, you're not crazy, you're still smart and funny.
ratInAH0le: youcrazybesonice
Sucker4Vampz: And you saved my life, Alex. You CAN be good. You made sure I was on the inside of the door in Hong Kong.
ratInAH0le: strangelyobservantg-manthen
ratInAH0le: picknchoose
ratInAH0le: but choose me
Sucker4Vampz: Yes. I choose you. Just like you chose me, in Hong Kong.
ratInAH0le: alwayslikedyoutoomuch
Sucker4Vampz: Yeah, I know the feeling.
ratInAH0le: really gonna keeparat?
Sucker4Vampz: I'm going to do my best, yes.
ratInAH0le: scaredletmeloose
Sucker4Vampz: Yes, I am, Alex. You need someone to help keep you out of trouble.
Sucker4Vampz: I'm not gonna let you hurt yourself, me, or anyone else anymore, Alex.
Sucker4Vampz: I'm going to stop you, and I'm going to show you that you CAN be good.
ratInAH0le: teachratnewtricks
Sucker4Vampz: Yes!
Sucker4Vampz: Alex, type with both hands so I know the gun is DOWN.
Sucker4Vampz: I know your fingers hurt, so don't worry about typos.
ratInAH0le: slower. fingers. k.
Sucker4Vampz: Good, Alex. Thank you.
ratInAH0le: you real?
Sucker4Vampz: Yeah, it's me, Mulder.
Sucker4Vampz: I won't ditch you like a bad date again, Alex. That was shitty.
ratInAH0le: But good Alex...real???
Sucker4Vampz: Yes, you're typing two-handed for me. That's being good for me.
Sucker4Vampz: Does that make you feel good? To be good for me?
ratInAH0le: worried feel good will change...
Sucker4Vampz: That you won't like it anymore?
ratInAH0le: YOU wont like it!
Sucker4Vampz: That I won't like YOU, you mean. That I won't keep you?
ratInAH0le: wont be good if im happy. need rat to pay.
Sucker4Vampz: I want you to be happy, Alex. And I want you to be good. That's all I want.
ratInAH0le: good happy rat good happy mulder two hands promise shift hurt me
Sucker4Vampz: Don't shift, then. Yes, good happy rat = good happy Mulder.
ratInAH0le: what about the past?
Sucker4Vampz: We both fucked up. We're not gonna do that anymore.
Sucker4Vampz: I'm not gonna let you hurt me, and I'm not gonna hurt you.
Sucker4Vampz: I let you hurt me. Because I didn't know. I didn't know you needed me, Alex.
ratInAH0le: coke not hallucenigen sp? feel like dreaming
Sucker4Vampz: You're not dreaming.
ratInAH0le: had to stay awake never sleep get me again all of them
ratInAH0le: something tell you
Sucker4Vampz: Okay, tell me, Alex.
ratInAH0le: smoker dead killed him to escape
Sucker4Vampz: Oh. Okay.
Sucker4Vampz: I understand, you had to escape, Alex.
ratInAH0le: but killed bad rat even if needed to happen
Sucker4Vampz: I don't want you to kill anymore, no. You're right. You already know that. That's good. You know what good IS. That's a very good start, Alex.
ratInAH0le: good rat start???
Sucker4Vampz: YES.
Sucker4Vampz: You didn't know any other way to escape. I don't know if there was one, either. But from now on, I'll know EVERYTHING and help you decide.
Sucker4Vampz: I'll help you learn to do the good thing. You can learn to be good, Alex.
ratInAH0le: embarrassed something
Sucker4Vampz: What?
ratInAH0le: pissed self before need new pantsunderwear
Sucker4Vampz: That's not a problem. I'll take care of it.
ratInAH0le: not want to not have rat?
Sucker4Vampz: No, I can clean you up like new.
Sucker4Vampz: Sidney was dirty, too. Mistreated rats usually are.
Sucker4Vampz: I'll take care of you, Alex.
ratInAH0le: high and shaking but not had bath too far sweating and can only be with you
Sucker4Vampz: It's okay. I'll help you get clean, and I'll bring you some of my pants to wear. Okay?
ratInAH0le: same height
ratInAH0le: good pants
ratInAH0le: clean Mulder pants
Sucker4Vampz: Yes, I'll bring my softest pair of sweats. Nice and comfy.
ratInAH0le: soft for rough rat
Sucker4Vampz: Yes, soft for mistreated, hurt rat.
ratInAH0le: dont
Sucker4Vampz: Don't what?
ratInAH0le: make rats cry
Sucker4Vampz: Crying's good, Alex.
Sucker4Vampz: You need to cry.
ratInAH0le: when come?
ratInAH0le: hour half drive think
ratInAH0le: come?
Sucker4Vampz: Yes, okay, I will. Stay right there and don't do anything to hurt yourself. You know my cell number, don't you?
ratInAH0le: in head repeated in silo for something
Sucker4Vampz: Good. Call me if anything happens or changes or ANYTHING, okay?
ratInAH0le: good rats call mulder
Sucker4Vampz: Yes. Good rats call Mulder.
Sucker4Vampz: I'm leaving now, Alex. I have to sign off.
ratInAH0le: okay drive good
Sucker4Vampz: I will. I'll be there soon.
ratInAH0le: wait!
Sucker4Vampz: okay
ratInAH0le: pleasant glade room 156 Mulder
Sucker4Vampz: Thank you, Alex.
ratInAH0le: good rat keep rat choose rat
Sucker4Vampz: Yes. I choose to keep you and help you be a good rat.
ratInAH0le: choose Mulder
Sucker4Vampz: Thank you, Alex. That's all I ever wanted.
ratInAH0le: thank you forever
Sucker4Vampz: You're welcome. Be good, and I'll see you SOON.
ratInAH0le: good soon saved hero
Sucker4Vampz: Thank you, Alex. Yes, I'm gonna be there soon and save you. I'll be your hero, Alex.
Sucker4Vampz: bye for now...
As I take my hands off the keyboard, they're shaking, and I wipe my fingertips against my palms to get the sweat off. I'm sick to my stomach and light-headed, and there are so many warring thoughts trying to stall me. I push them all aside and concentrate on gathering up what I need for the drive.
Printed out directions from Mapquest. First aid kit. Clean clothes. Food. Water. Medicines.
I shove it all into my gym bag and tuck my gun into the waistband of my jeans, slipping on my leather sport jacket. I grab my keys and am out the door, focusing only on my objective: Get to Alex.
On the drive there, it's hard to quell the voices that keep yelling that I'm crazy, that I'm stupid, that I'm sick and wrong to even think about doing this. I'm a psychologist, but this is WAY above and beyond therapy. I've just promised a dangrous, unstable individual with a completely unknown history that I'm going to take him home, take care of him, and help him learn to be a productive member of society.
And God help me, but I have no idea if I'm anywhere near up to the job.
I've never done this. I've worked with people who suffered from mental illness, sure, and I've dealt with plenty of criminally insane individuals, but this is so different.
How is it different? Okay, instead of trying to talk myself out of this, let's just go over the facts.
Alex Krycek is not insane. Criminally or otherwise. He does seem to be at the end of his rope, and that's obviously exacerbated by whatever drugs he's got in his system, either methamphetamines or cocaine or both, for starters, along with probable pain from his physical injuries and definite psychological trauma from his time in the silo.
Pain stabs me deeply in the gut followed by almost crippling nausea. I breathe it back, focusing on my driving.
I left him there.
I knew he was there, knew his worst enemy and mine would either leave him there or kill him, and I just got on a plane and flew back to D.C. Yes, he was a criminal, but he had been in my custody the last time I'd seen him and he was still my responsibility.Mine.
And I left him there.
The only way I *can* forgive myself for that is to do this. I owe him this. For not shaking his hand, for not trying to know him better when he was my partner and thus figuring out he had an agenda, for not seeing that he was possessed by the oil, and always and forever I will owe him because I fucking left him there to die or worse.
God, Alex, I'm so sorry.
He needs me. He came to me to give me one more chance. He obviously thinks I have what he needs. That if anyone can help him, I can. For some reason, even after what I've done to him, he came to ME.
DO I have what he needs? Can I really give him what I've promised? Is what I'm doing or offering in the least ethical or morally acceptable? Or am I gonna screw him up even worse, playing into this need of his to be owned?I suppose it makes sense, really. We all need it when we start out in life. Someone stronger than you, who knows better than you, telling you what to do so you don't hurt yourself or others. He obviously never had that, or not nearly enough of it. But am I the answer to that? Can I handle this? And AM I stronger than he is? Strong enough to control him for his sake, mine, and others'? Even if he is asking for it?
Begging for it?
He obviously thinks so. Sees me as his only chance. And taking his life into account, I might be. The prison system certainly isn't going to do it for him. They'll just throw him in a cage and subject him to bargain-basement drugs and burned-out psychiatric washouts for doctors. And then when they run out of money and/or space, they'll turn him loose harder, angrier, colder, and more skilled than before. And that's if he survives, which is highly unlikely.
But somebody definitely has to stop him. If someone doesn't take Alex Krycek firmly in hand, he's going to do more damage, to himself, to me, and to countless innnocent-and-not-so-innocent others. And I can't let them kill him. I can't endorse his murder. And there's no one else who will help him. So it has to be me.
Plus, he *came* to me. Even after I failed him. For some reason, he wants *my* help. He thinks I can do this. Believes it.
Hopes, at least.
I can't let him down.
He's my responsibility. Again. Still?
What if he never stopped being my responsibility, even when I left him there?
Oh God, Alex...
And it doesn't stop there, though I try to stuff the truth down deep where it can't bubble up and explode in my face. But what if my responsibility started sooner? When he was assigned to spy on me?
Oh God, what if I had reached out and taken his offered hand? What if I had shown him what it could feel like to have a friend and true partner? What if I had allowed myself to follow those impulses to smile, to laugh, to invite him out for a beer or over to watch basketball on TV? Would he still have helped them take Scully? Would he still have killed my father? And what about the others he's hurt between then and now. How much responsibility do I bear for allowing him to do those things, hurt or even kill those people?
Would my father be alive today if I had just reached out and shaken Alex's fucking hand???
The road blurs, and I swallow hard and firm my resolve to do this. Regardless of when it started, or how badly I fucked things up, Alex Krycek is my responsibility now. He's *my* fractured rat to put back together. And by God, I'm not going to fail this time. I'm going to clean him up, dress his wounds, feed him and water him and take him home with me. I'm going to teach him how to be the kind of person we both want him to be or I'm going to die trying.
And fuck anybody who doesn't understand. I'll deal with that when I come to it. From now on, Alex is my number one priority.
I step on the pedal and feel the car jump ahead on a burst of speed.
I bang my head back against the wall onetwothreebangbangbang, like a gun going off in a pillow, feathers everywhere.
Mulder's coming for me. I can't close my eyes. Can't see him anymore against the utter black, back turned, not mine and me not his and screaming.
Coming for me, the ratratrat, coming for me the rat.I chant in my head, murmuring, jumping out of my skin on coke, the drug, and Coca-Cola out of a two liter bottle. I chant it, and I don't believe. How can I? I thought I saw him there, too. Saw him opening the door. Blinked and gone.
Want to come down from this high, this hell of blood-shot eyes and constant motion. But it steals the pain a little, keeps the demons behind the door, keeps me from losing everything, got me here alive. But I don't want him to see me like this --
comingformetheratratrat, comingformetherat
-- don't want him to try to meet these eyes that water and shift. This is not the rat he wants. I dragged a ghost-rat out behind me when they opened the door. He's still here, the screaming one, the beaten one. It's written on my bloodied fingertips...the walls of darkness clawed nearly to death. My death.
The broken ones, both pinkies, are not even as bad. They happened OUT.
Mulder's coming. Hero. Cure me, take me, choose me, keep me...
He IS!!!! I scream at the oily demons. He's coming to take me away from you all!
He's lied but he's no liar.
He's coming.
And I'm a wreck. Filthy with shit smeared in the crack of my ass, urine down my legs, blood from cuts --dried and gooey-- broken fingers, horror of a face, and I'm all adrenaline with no strength and half my thoughts are scattered like clove leaves, flipping in the wind, lightdark, smelling good and tasting awful.
He's not gonna want me. Will drag myself to the bath at least. Bang my head against the wall again --bangbangbang -- if I stand I'll fall. Need food so bad. Keep throwing up. Want to die.
Will just count the seconds until he's here. That's all.Countcountcount
Coming for me the rat, the rat.
Coming for me, the rat.
I pull up in the parking lot, scanning the rows of doors for the right number. They start at 100, so I drive slowly down toward the end and around the corner to the back, spotting number 156 and pulling up in front of it. The lights are off, and my body charges with adrenaline, preparing for fight or flight. I pull my gun out of the waistband of my jeans and snap the safety to 'off'. It's not that I think he wants to hurt me, or even that I don't trust him not to, it's just that I don't approach dark, strange motel rooms without being armed and ready for anything.
I step up to the door sideways, finger on the trigger, and rap it sharply with my knuckles. "Alex, it's me," I call, to combat the terror he may be feeling. I inject a note of authority into my voice, but keep it gentle. "Open the door."
It flies open, and I jerk back a bit, then swallow as I catch sight of him. He's holding the gun with both hands, just like Hong Kong, but this time he's shaking so badly that he probably couldn't hit me even if he did pull the trigger, even though I'm only a few feet in front of him. His eyes are red-rimmed and wet, face covered in cuts, painted green and purple with bruises, his mouth swollen and dry, cracked and split in several places, blood smearing on his teeth and making him look truly animal. His hair is a matted mess, though it's so dark I can't tell if that's mud, oil, blood, or all three, and his hands where they grip the gun...oh my God, his fingers...ragged, bloody tips and the pinky fingers of both hands sticking out at unnatural angles.
"Alex," I whisper, almost losing sight of him behind the onslaught of fierce guilt and horror.
His dry, multilated lips press tightly together, his exhausted, terrified eyes blinking. "Muh...Muh..." They press together tightly again, and he squeezes tears over his lower lashes and they run down his face, dripping off his jaw.
I slowly lower my own gun, taking my finger off the trigger and putting on the safety. "Yes, Alex, it's me. I didn't bring the gun to hurt you," I add, as his frightened eyes track my every movement, his own gun still pointed in my face. "I brought it to protect you. Okay?"
He blinks, then staggers backward, gun still held on me.
"Put the gun down, Alex," I tell him, gentling my voice even more, letting my pain show in my eyes. "It's okay, now. I'm going to take care of you. I'm going to take you home. It's Mulder, Alex. I'm here for you."
"Muh..." he croaks again, then gasps and his hands fly open, letting the gun simply fall to the floor in front of him. "Not hurt...not kill...sorrymuldersosorry..."
"Shhh..." I whisper, stepping in and closing the door behind me. It's hard to do, as I notice the stench I'm trapping in there with us, but definitely necessary. "It's okay. You were protecting yourself. That's a good thing, Alex. Okay? Good rat." I feel a little silly and phony calling him that, but as I see his face relax, his head bobbing in an abrupt nod, I see that it's what he needs. And right now, that's EVERYTHING. "Good rat," I say again, almost-but-not-quite smiling. I don't want to seem like 'not me', and Alex sure isn't used to me smiling at him.
"I'm gonna touch you now," I tell him, keeping my voice low and soft. I remember him saying something in the IM about me taking away touch. I step in, lifting my hands. He smells like an outhouse but I need him to feel me. To know it's really me and I'm really here. "C'mere, Alex," I tell him, though I'm going to be the one taking the steps into him, as I can see by his swaying that he's *this* close to collapse.
I take the last step to bring me to within a foot and a half of him, and hold my breath a little as he whimpers and tries not to run, his head jerking side to side, as if planning the escape already.
"I'm here," I tell him again, and, ready for anything from blows to vomiting to helpless sobs, I wrap my arms around him and press in close, shutting my eyes as I feel us come into contact from chest to thighs.
He convulses in a loud, choking gasp and then, after jerking and trying to control it, finally breaks into a high, keening wail, arms at his sides, shoulders jerking with the intensity of it, practically falling on top of me.
And I hold him. I hold him up. He's heavier than I am and he smells truly horrible, but I devote every ounce of my strength and my will to hanging on and supporting him, and I hold him as he cries in my arms like a five-year-old child.
Oh God, Alex, I'm so, so sorry.
He's pressed in like before, like before, but he's not yelling, not hitting, and I'm crying and I'm crying...
It's terrible. I can't breathe. He's gonna leave now. Crying rats are bad rats.
Gonnaleavemetheratratrat, gonnaleavemetherat.
"Mmmmm!" I attempt his name. But it's just a sticky, garbled, animal noise. Just nothing.
He will leave. In the next moment. And I will fall...crumple...half-dead pathetic rat on the floor, wahwahwah like a baby, a toddler, badbadbad...
But it's his voice in my ear saying, "Good, good Alex, good rat," and my crying whimpers to a stop to hear him. And he's rocking -- side to side with a bad rat curled tight in his arms, ready to transform to snake, to bite but nononononodon'twanthatno.
"Shhhh," he says, back and forth. I lay my wet cheek on his shoulder, eyes hurting and open, mouth slack, weeping trickling out now. I sink into the strong arms around me more and he takes it.
Gonnasavemetheratratrat, gonnasavemetherat.
"I'm gonna get you cleaned up now, Alex," he whispers.
Mulder's whisper like the quiet sound of my screaming shushed. I sigh wetly in his arms. I think I nod.
He's even more like a child as I have him raise his arms for me so I can take off his filthy, blood-stiffened shirt. I try to keep the grimace off my face as his torso comes into view, pink and purple and green with bruises, the ribs showing clearly in his too-thin state.
"Good...good rat," I tell him again, and hear him sigh as he lowers his arms to his sides. "Let's get your pants now, okay?"
He reaches to undo them with his mangled hands and I firmly tell him, "No, let me do that," and he meekly drops his hands to his sides. I push the grimy metal button through its hole and take hold of the zipper pull, then hold my breath and jerk it down. His pants are worse than his shirt, reeking of shit and urine, dirt and vomit, and everything carries the taint of oil. And as dirty as they are, I can also tell the blood stains from the others, in spatters and pools. "Hold onto me," I tell him, as I kneel and tug at his jeans, and I feel his hand fall on my shoulder hesitantly, shaking badly and twitching as if afraid to touch me. "Good rat," I tell him, and I finally get his disaster-area jeans and underwear down his legs to where he can step out of them.
We're in the bathroom and the tub is full of hot, bubble-frothy water. And Alex is now naked and holding onto my shoulder as I crouch at his feet, helping him get his foot free of his jeans and then regain his unsteady balance. He almost falls, and I put my arms around his thighs quickly to steady him. I feel his cock and balls brush against the top of my head. I keep holding him until he feels steady, then slowly release him and lean back. He's half-hard now, his cock hanging heavy and fat and twitching slightly. I hear a thick whimper and look away from his cock, slightly embarassed to have been caught staring, to check his face.
"Muld...sorry...sorrysorrysorry..." he whispers, looking stricken and terrified. "I didn't meanto...didn'tmeantodidn'tmeanto..." His voice is breathless and panicked.
"Hey, it's okay," I tell him, finally giving him the smile I've been witholding so as not to scare him away. What's that they say? Confession is good for the soul? "Happens to the best of us," I say, with a quick arch of the brows. I look away, still holding him by the thighs. "Don't tell me you didn't feel it," I murmur, feeling myself get warm. "in Hong Kong." I'm hoping my own confession will make him feel better about his own obviously nonconsensual one.
"Fffffffelt it," he breathes out, and I look up to see him swallow and close his eyes, and I start to my feet, catching him just barely in time to keep him from pitching headfirst onto the cold tile floor.
"Let's get you into the bath before we talk about this any further," I tell him softly, then leverage his heavy, awkward body over to the tub and help him step over the side, holding onto his upper arms as he lowers himself into the bath.
He lets out a sigh, but his body is still tense and hard, shoulders hunched, tendons sticking out on his neck. His eyes are closed, his lips pressing together and trembling.
"Crying's good," I remind him again. "If you need to cry, do it." And as I reach for the wash cloth and soap and he still hasn't let them go again, I add, "Good rat, give Mulder those tears." That does it and they stream down his face again, though this time nearly silently, his voice almost gone from the earlier outburst and God knows what else. "Gooooood rat," I tell him, using the ice bucket to start pouring water over his head, holding the cloth on his forehead to block the water without covering his eyes. He yields to the pressure on his forehead, tipping his head back, eyes squeezed tightly shut, and I pour another few buckets of water over his hair, watching dirt, oil, blood, hair, and more run out of it and into the rapidly-darkening water pooled around his body. "Goooood rat," I croon again, setting aside the bucket. "I know that was probably hard, trusting me like that. Good rat. Good job trusting me." I pick up the little shampoo and squeeze hard, getting all of it out and into my hand. This is gonna take at least two of those tiny little bottles.
I rub the shampoo into his hair gently, careful of cuts and bruises, taking this opportunity to feel for lumps and serious lacerations. I feel several swollen knots and he lets out sharp exhales as I shampoo over them as carefully as I can. After two shampoos and two rinses with clean water from the faucet, Alex's mop of dark hair is clean and already starting to curl slightly as it dries. It's thick and coarse and naturally curly, and even clean, it swirls on his head every which way in his short haircut. His shoulders are relaxed and his body slack as I reach down to drain the tub and then adjust the faucet, refilling it again.
My back already aches and my knees feel like they have forks jabbed into them as I kneel and use the washcloth to gently and thoroughly wash Alex's face, neck, shoulders, upper chest and back. It's hot, miserable work, but I smile because Alex is now sitting placidly in the water, eyes closed, sighing unabashedly as he gets closer and closer to clean. When I lift his arms to finish washing under them, he jerks a bit in surprise, then immediately relaxes back into my touch with a sigh, eyes still closed.
"Good rat," I murmur, watching the water go dark again. He's enjoying this so much and it's doing so much for him that I no longer feel awkward with the odd words of praise, or with my hands on his body. I just want him to be clean and comfortable again, and I want to make him feel good. And it seems to make him feel good when I tell him, 'good rat' as I rub the soapy cloth over his skin, so I keep doing it. Once I have his front and back and arms as clean as they're going to get and I've rinsed them with clear water from the tap, I drain the tub again, getting up and popping my back, stretching and rubbing my neck and shoulders while I wait for the tub to fill a third time.
I open my eyes after a good, long stretch to find Alex peering up at me through wet lashes, his eyes bloodshot, one of them with actual burst blood vessel, making it appear that he's bleeding. Despite his condition, I can't help the smile that stretches my lips at seeing how much more relaxed and human he looks, sitting there in his third tub of clean, bubbly water.
"Almost through," I tell him, and he just stares at me like he doesn't speak my language. "How do you feel?" I ask him, grimacing just slightly as pain shoots through my knees as I again take my place beside the tub.
His lips part immediately, but no sound comes out. I can tell he wants to answer me, to please me, but he doesn't know how to answer the question. I suppose it wasn't a fair one, given that he just climbed out of the depths of hell.
"Better?" I ask him, arching my brows. "Just nod," I add, because it's clear that his voice is gone.
He nods once, slowly, then finally looks away, staring down at the bubbles which have again risen above his belly.
"Alex," I start, lathering up the washcloth. "I'm gonna...touch you, now," I say, stumbling to find the right words. He looks over at me, and I glance down between his legs, hoping nonverbal language will be enough. It's time to wash his cock and ass. With the smell that was emnating from that area, it definitely needs done, no matter how awkward it is for both of us. "I'm gonna clean you up," I tell him firmly. I don't leave him any options on this. It'll be easier for him that way.
He gasps, jerking his knees up slightly. Yep, he gets it. I frown a little, not wanting to touch him if he really doesn't want it. I absolutely do not want to violate him in any way.
"Alex, I don't want to do anything you don't want," I tell him, letting my hand dangle over the side, washcloth gripped loosely and trailing slightly in the water a few inches from where his penis is just below the surface. "But I want to get you all clean, okay? So I'm going to wash you. I'm going to take care of you," I tell him, my voice gentle.
His eyes squeeze shut, his breathing becoming shallow and fast. He nods.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself to just get this over with, and reach down into the bubbles at his belly. I fumble around for only a moment before I feel his erection bob up into my cloth-covered fist, full and fat and hard. I let out a soft sigh and reach lower, rubbing over the root of him, pushing his thighs apart with my hand and reaching lower to wash his balls. The head of his dick rises up through the bubbles as I work, less than a foot from my face now.
"Mmm...Mmmuh..." Alex gasps, and his head falls back on his shoulders, his hand going out to grip the side of the tub. I see fresh blood streak the white enamel.
"Sshhh..." I calm him, putting my other hand over his to try and gentle his grip on the tub so he doesn't hurt his hand further.He whimpers, damaged fingers twitching beneath mine, and I drag the cloth back up, wrapping my hand around his shaft under the water. He moans and I let out a soft sigh as his hips lift just the slightest bit, pushing into my grasp. I squeeze him and begin to work my hand up and down. And it becomes impossible to lie to myself that this is just about getting him clean anymore. I'm making him feel good. And it feels SO GOOD to make him feel good. "Good rat," I breathe out, tossing the cloth aside in the water and working him in my bare fist. He lets out a garbed cry and his hand slips under mine where he's gripping the tub. "Go ahead, Alex," I breathe out, working him faster. "I want you to. Do it," I whisper. "Come for me, rat."
His head begins nodding briskly, his eyes squeezing more tightly closed.
My own eyes close on the power of it and I feel my cock swell in my jeans. I let out a long, strained sigh over the sound of the rhythmic splashes, watching his cockhead rise and fall in the water, swollen and red and wet, stretched and pulled by my hand.
I gasp, unaccountably surprised as it begins to spurt milky-white fluid into the bubbles surrounding it, and at the tortured cry that comes from Alex's throat. I gasp and breathe hard, keeping my hand going, milking him carefully of every last gasp, every last drop, every last beautiful, broken sound from his sad, torn throat.
"Gggood rat," I stutter out, breathless. "Good, good, good rat." I'm stunned at how his climax brings me so close to one of my own, my whole body flushed hot and tingling, ready to join him.
He moans and whimpers lowly, and I slowly take my hand away from his cock, not wanting to hurt him. I run it around his upper thighs, light-headed at what I just did to him. Suddenly, I realize how touchable he really is, and I feel impatient to touch more of him, though a little guilty at my own now-painfully hard erection. I remind myself that this is NOT about making myself feel good. It's about taking care of him. I fish out the washcloth and lather it up again. Alex's eyes are still closed, but his head is bowed now as he catches the remainder of his breath, shaking a little. His hand under mine is slack on the side of the tub, relaxed.
"Get on your knees," I tell him, hearing a shake in my voice as well. "Hold yourself up on the sides of the tub. I need to wash your ass." I try not to think about this as an arousing act. I'm just getting him clean. Because he needs it. This isn't about me.
His eyes open abruptly as he gasps softly and snaps his head up to look at me. Then he quickly closes his mouth and nods, shifting around in the tub, obviously weak and shaking, but eager to obey me.
When he's on his knees with his legs spread as far apart as they can go, I take the cloth and run it down between his cheeks. I'm astounded at how easy it is to touch him this way. So intimately. But I guess it's always been easy to touch him. Something about him has always seemed to ask for it, even when it was violent. I guess what he was really 'asking for' was this. To be touched gently. To be taken care of. And I want to give that to him, now. I want it for him, but I have to admit, it feels pretty damned good to me, too. I thoroughly, briskly, but carefully scrub his ass and thighs, then wash his calves and shins, working the rag between his toes and getting every inch of him that I can reach just as clean I can get it. I know how good I'm making him feel. The flutter of his wet lashes and his soft sighs are proof. And it makes me want to keep on doing it.
"Good rat," I tell him, sitting back and feeling my back scream from being in that position so long. I get to my feet and gasp for all new reasons as my body protests being used in such a fashion. I look down to find him looking up at me, still on his knees and gripping the sides of the tub unsteadily, legs spread. "Let's get you dried off and into my pants," I tell him with a smirk. He just stares up at me.
After several more minutes of helping him to his feet, running the towel over him after ordering him to quit trying to do it himself, then helping him step into my favorite pair of sweats, sans underwear, my favorite sweatshirt, and even putting my favorite pair of socks and some old running shoes on him, we're finally ready to get the hell out of this smelly, dark little pit of a motel room and go home.
He doesn't have any luggage. It's just him and his gun and scraps of filthy, horrid material that once upon a time someone called clothes. I shove them into a trashbag so I can dump them in the dumpster. Alex just sits on the bed and watches me. I go to the laptop and see our IM still up. I shut the computer down, Alex watching intently the whole time, then I help him stand and lead him out to my car by the arm, trashbag slung over my shoulder like Santa Claus's bag of presents for good little girls and boys.
I get him seated in the car, run the trashbag over to the dumpster, leave the key in the room, and then gratefully, nearly blissfully, put the car into reverse and start backing out of the parking spot. I've given Alex a bottle of water and told him to drink it, and he sits in the seat, breathing erratically and taking small sips every little bit. He's nibbling on some Ritz crackers, as well, having shaken his head sadly when I asked him if he wanted anything else. I know he's probably ravenous, but his stomach's been starved and we'll have to take this easy. There was vomit on the floor in the motel room and I'm not really wanting to see that repeated in my car.
"Tell me if you think you need to puke," I tell him, pulling out into traffic.
He looks over at me from his seat and nods, looking exhausted and totally dazed. His teeth are brushed now, too, and I've bandaged his fingers and taped the broken ones as best I could. I'll have to have Scully set and splint them tomorrow, and give him a thorough examination. I don't let myself even start to consider how I'm going to handle that, instead reaching for the dial and turning on the CD player. Godsmack's "Serenity" fills the car and I feel my aching shoulders relax with the hypnotic drum beat.
"I need serenity
In a place where I can hide
I need serenity
Nothing changes, days go by
Where do we go when we just don't know
And how do we relight the flame when it's cold
Why do we dream when our thoughts mean nothing
And when will we learn to control."
I let the words tell me that I'm doing the right thing. I let them convince me that I have what Alex needs. I let them wash away the doubts and fears as they try to swamp me, and I let them fill my head with their solace as I drive. And it starts to sink in that I'm really doing this. This is actually happening. I'm taking my rat home.
And it feels good.