World Without End
Book Two

Part One

I have traveled far with my new master. This is the farthest that I have ever been from the main house. These weeks of motion have been the strangest in my life. At least as far as I can recall.

My old master was a friend of the one they call Jeffery. The one who seemed to know me from the time before. The one whose eyes looked so very familiar to me.

Many weeks ago, Jeffery came to the big house. He talked with my master behind a closed door for many hours. When they came out Jeffery told me that I was going to go on a trip. That I would have a new master.

I did not understand the concept of "trip" but when I went to sleep that night I felt something stirring in me. Something that I could not place but seemed very familiar. I think the Chosen call it excitement.

The next day Jeffery brought me away from the big house. He brought me into the city, to a very tall building. That is where I met my new master. The one they call Mulder.

The one I call Mulder.

I tried to call him Master but he told me not to do that. I still have trouble remembering though.

Master Mulder brought me to his automobile and drove away from the city. The men at the bridge stopped us and Master Mulder told them that he was taking me up north, to another colony.

Once we were over the bridge he turned to me and said, "That was a lie. You're not going to another colony. You're going to be free."

I asked him what free was. He said it meant that I could do whatever I wanted to. I asked him what I wanted to do but he didn't know the answer to that.

We drove together for many many days. I lost track of how many days. We passed several checkpoints and at each one my master gave the men a card and some papers and the men let us through. We ate in different places every day. I had never eaten anywhere but the kitchen of the big house before. Master Mulder had cards for us and when we showed them to the people in the restaurants in the colonies we passed through, they let us eat there. They also let us put gasoline in our automobile. These cards seemed like a very good thing but every time Master Mulder had to use them he looked around nervously and chewed on his mouth.

Master Mulder told me that he knew me in the time before. I told him that I had no memory of that. He didn't talk to me very much after that. He doesn't seem to talk very much at all.

Our journey took us to an empty place where a building used to be. Master Mulder walked around and looked for "clues" and I sat in the automobile. He didn't find any clues and after many hours he decided that we would leave the place and walk through the woods. We walked for a very long time.

A few hours ago Master Mulder told me that he thought we should probably turn around and go back to the automobile. He kicked a rock and said a curse word. That was when the men came.

The men had guns. They told us that we were on their property and that we should explain ourselves. Master Mulder asked the men who they were. Then the men hit him. They put a black hood over his head and some sort of weapon to his back.

They put a hood on my head also and then they led us through the woods. We marched for many minutes. Then they took us indoors and brought us to a room. They sat us down and tied us to chairs. I think we have been in here for more than an hour.

I can hear Master Mulder next to me. He is breathing very heavily and every few minutes he shouts "Scully!". He says that word a lot. I think we are here to find a Scully. The men keep telling him, "Shut up!" but he doesn't.

I hear some movement. I hear a door opening, a door closing, people moving around. I hear voices.

"Where did you find them?"

"The south corner of the pine forest."

"What were they doing?"

"Just walking around."

Suddenly the blackness covering my eyes disappears. Someone has taken away my hood. The light is so bright that I cannot see anything but white for a few seconds.

Slowly the room comes into focus. The walls are white cement. The floor is white tile with blue flecks. There is an old-looking couch next to a large, strange looking box with a glass panel in the front. I am sitting on a fold-out chair in front of a green table with white lines painted on to it. I think people used to play something called pong on tables like this. The men from the woods are here. They are standing in the corners of the room with their weapons. And there are others.

A female. The only female in the room except for me. She must be a slave. There are only one or two women in each colony who are Mistresses. The rest are slaves. Surely we are not being permitted to meet the Mistress of this colony so soon. But she stands in a strange way for a slave. She stands very straight and tall. Her clothing is worn out and shabby but it seems that everyone in this colony is dressed in this fashion. They must be a sub-standard group.

There is also another man. The man who questioned the men who found us. He must be the High Master of this colony.

He is the one who removed my hood. He stands in front of me and blinks. Then he kneels down in front of me. He looks at my face from very close.

"Marita?"

I have heard this word before. It is the first word that Master Mulder said when I was given to him. He said it in the same sort of way.

"What...what are you doing here?"

"I came here with my master. Are you my new master now?"

The man stands back up and runs his hand over his hair. Then he tosses my hood onto the pong table and makes a strange sound.

He looks at the woman and the woman looks at Master Mulder.

"Your master, huh?" he says and turns to Master Mulder himself.

He reaches for Master Mulder's hood but then he stops. He turns back to the woman again and but she does not see. She is staring at Master Mulder still. He swallows and closes his eyes. Then he pulls Master Mulder's hood off of his head.

The woman gasps very loudly and puts her hand over her mouth. She starts walking backwards and ends up hitting the wall. She is very interesting to watch. I have never seen a slave act in this way.

The man is just looking at Master Mulder. He seems very angry. Most of the Masters are angry most of the time.

"Scully!" Master Mulder says again and this time he is looking directly at the slave woman. Moisture forms in her eyes and she shakes her head. He tries to stand up but he is tied down and doesn't get very far. Then the other Master pushes him back down in his seat.

"Sit down," he says. He must be a very high Master if he can tell Master Mulder what to do. Master Mulder looks angry too, though. He glares at the other Master and struggles to get out of his chair.

"Nice place you've got here, Krycek. Love the goons. Very classy."

Nobody moves or says anything for a minute that seems, even to me, extremely long. Then the other Master's face twitches and the woman says "Alex..." and then he hits Master Mulder across the face with his fist.

"No!" the woman yells and then she runs closer. Blood pours out of Master Mulder's nose and turns the other Master's hand black. The woman stops moving when she sees it and stares at Master Mulder.

"Scully," he says.

The other Master, I suppose he is Master Alex, looks at the blood too and then he shakes his hand like he is trying to get it off of his skin.

There is much more moisture coming from the woman's eyes now and her mouth opens but then closes again many times. She makes a sound like she is in pain. Master Mulder says "Scully," yet again and it seems to add to her suffering. I do not understand the source of her pain. She is not being beaten and yet she acts as though she were. She is the strangest slave I have ever seen.

"Get her out of here," Master Alex says to a very large man with blond hair. The man takes the strange, red-haired woman by her arm and he walks her out of the room. She shakes when she walks.

"Her too," Master Alex says to another man and points at me. "Find her a room and...just...just find her a room."

The man unties me and tells me to follow him. I do as asked as it seems to be the wish of both Masters Alex and Mulder.

We walk into a less brightly lit hallway and a few steps ahead I see the woman pacing back and forth with her arms crossed over her chest. The large man is seated on a bench near her. When she sees us she moves towards me.

"Who are you?" she asks me.

"They call me three-oh-eight."

She looks towards the sky and then back at me.

"Look, I'm not buying this. Any of it. Who are you really? And who is that....who is that?"

"I am three-oh-eight and the one I came with is called Master Mulder."

"Master..." She shakes her head. "Look, just stop it. That's not...that's not him and...and this little slave act you're pulling isn't cutting it with me. Who the hell are you two and what are you doing here?"

She is yelling now. I have never been yelled at by another slave before. I do not understand this one at all.

"I do not know why we are here. I think we are looking for a Scully."

God Scully. I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to find out this way. I didn't want it to be like this.

"Who are you?"

I think he's asked me this a few times already. I don't believe this. Who the hell does he think he is? Doesn't he understand what I've been through to get here?

"Dammit, Krycek."

I struggle against the wire holding my wrists and ankles in place but whoever tied these fuckers is one hell of a boy scout.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

He notices what I'm trying to do and cocks the gun he's got pointed at me.

"What do you want?"

"I told you. I just wanna see Scully. That's all."

He shakes his head.

"No. No way. Not until I know who...what the fuck you are."

Goddammit. I didn't want to have to explain myself to this bastard. If I could only talk to Scully. She would know. She would understand.

But for whatever reason, it seems that Krycek is the biggest obstacle between me and her right now and the only way to get through him and to Scully seems to be to tell him what he wants to know.

God, she looked so beautiful. And so unhappy, so confused. Because of me. Because of what I am.

"I am Mulder, Krycek. Whether you believe it or not. Frankly, I don't care if you do."

"That doesn't...it doesn't make any sense," he stammers.

"What do you know about the conversion process," I ask. Krycek snorts. Then he walks closer so that he's standing directly in front of me.

"No. That's bullshit. Mulder wouldn't....couldn't..."

He reaches towards my face and wipes some of the thick, oily blood from under my nose with his finger.

"Mulder would never choose this," he says, bringing the gunk up to my eye and then flinging it disgustedly onto the table. "Besides, Mulder is dead. She saw him die. I saw the pictures, I read the reports. He's dead. You're not him. You're not Mulder."

"What makes you think a person has a choice?"

"Everyone has a choice. Everyone has some kind of choice. The Mulder I knew would have killed himself before turning into one of them."

The Mulder he knew? He says this as if he knew me at all. Still, the comment hits a little too close to home. I might not have chosen to be turned into what I am but I did make certain choices. Certain stupid choices. Choices I will not be able to forgive myself for until I can talk to Scully and know that she's been all right. That she forgives me.

"I didn't choose to be turned into this, Krycek. Any more than a slave chooses to be turned into a slave. It happened to me. That's what Scully saw. That's what you saw in those pictures. That thing, coming out of me...That was the conversion process. Not death. Rebirth. Something was placed inside me and it lived there, gestating, until the time came for it to be born. When it tore out of my stomach, that was a birthing process and after that it...it grew back into me. The person you see now is Fox Mulder. All the same feelings, experiences, memories. Only difference is physiological."

He just stares at me for a minute in that Neanderthal way that he has and then sits down across from me.

"No, that's not how it happens. You're lying."

"It's not how it happens for everyone. Only the ones who don't choose. The ones who are chosen. Hence the name, The Chosen."

"Why haven't I ever heard about this? Why haven't I seen it before?"

"I don't know. Maybe you need to get out more."

"How long do we have?"

"Until what?"

"Until the rest of your alien goo friends come after you and find us?"

"They won't. I don't want to be found. I took precautions to make sure that won't happen. Look, all I want is to see Scully. That's the only reason I'm here. If you just let me talk to her..."

He shakes his head again and then he laughs. It's not a mirthful sound though. It's a bitter laugh. An angry laugh.

"You wanna see Scully, huh? Well, maybe you should have thought about that five or six years ago."

"Look, you don't know....you don't understand. I did what I had to do. I need to tell her. I need to explain..."

"Explain what? That you're a traitor? A mutant? That you sold her out so that you could get off easy?"

"Dammit, that's not the way it was!"

God, I didn't think I could hate this man any more than I did before, but he's surpassed my expectations.

"Do you have any idea what kind of hell she's been through the past six years? Do you even care?"

"Of...of course I care, Krycek."

The question is, why the hell does he care so goddamn much? Why is this any of his business at all?

"Listen, she seems healthy, she seems...well, I suppose it's a good thing that you found her. She seems well taken care of and I'm grateful to you for that but...but she doesn't belong here, Krycek. I mean, for her health if nothing else. Without that chip she...she could relapse at any time. She needs to be somewhere where they can heal her, where..."

"NO! That's not the way it works," he shouts and he's up on his feet looking for all the world like he's about to hit me again. "I'm not a fucking holding station here, Mulder. You don't just drop her off for six years and then waltz back in like nothing's changed to pick her up and carry her off again! You think that's how it is, Mulder? Just cause you THINK you love her more than anyone could ever love anybody?"

He's got the barrel of his gun against my chest and he's yelling in my face now. Something about this is just completely peculiar, creepy.

"Look, Krycek, I know you guys have been through a lot..."

God knows, they look the worse for wear. Healthy like I said but still, bedraggled.

"You don't know shit about what we've been through. So don't even pretend to understand or to care," he whispers darkly.

"Look, if you'd just let me talk to her, I'm sure we can work all of this out."

He looks at me with more disgust and hatred than I've ever seen from him. And that's saying a whole hell of a lot. Then he spits in my face.

"Go to hell," he growls and leaves the room. He leaves me with his team of thugs.

As he's walking out the door, I call for Scully, hoping that she's still in hearing range of this room. I call at the top of my lungs.

No one answers me.

The first time I met Dana Scully I was twenty-five years old. Bright eyed and full of crap, sure that I was on "the right side" before I realized that the only side that counts is your own side. My assignment at first was only to spy on them, find out what subversive activities they were participating in. I did my job and I did it well. Too well.

I remember the way they were back then. I remember the two of them talking in hushed tones, only to each other even though they weren't alone. I remember being annoyed with her dismissive attitude towards me. I remember feeling the connection between them. I remember feeling like I might as well have been on another planet as far as they were concerned. I remember feeling as though I were watching something intimate, almost sexual when they spoke to each other. I remember that I didn't really care very much.

When I pulled the hood off of that...thing in there, when they looked at each other, it was the same thing. The same fucking thing all over again. Only this time, I did care. This time when that wall went up between the two of them and the rest of the world and I was on the side with everybody else, I cared. I cared so much that I hit him. As if that would make it go away.

So now I guess the question it, if it walks like a Mulder, talks like a Mulder, acts like a fucking Mulder, does that mean it is a Mulder?

God knows that arrogant, obnoxious, sonofabitch affected me the same way a Mulder would. Just being in his presence brought up so many conflicted and twisted feelings that I thought for sure I would vomit from it. All the inadequacy, all the jealousy and the anger and the frustration flooded through my system like water through an old rusty pipe that someone turned on after years of being shut down.

That man turns me into someone I don't like very much.

But really, what kind of reception was he expecting? Red carpets and brass bands? Jesus Christ. How the hell am I supposed to react? For all I know he's a fucking spy.

All I know is that I can't deal with him right now. I just can't.

"Devotchka?"

The room is dark but light is starting to filter through the windows. It's almost dawn. I've spent almost the entire night wandering around campus, looking for Dana.

When I left that Mulder-like thing I found Bryan in the hall. He said that she'd told him she was going home, that he'd walked her there himself. But when I came back here the first time, the place was empty.

My state of panic escalated to a terrifying level and I ran out into the night to try and find her. The longer I went without seeing her, the worse things got. What if seeing Mulder again made her realize that she doesn't really want to be here? What if it made her go insane? What if she left?

I feel pretty close to a mental breakdown myself at the moment. If she's still not home I don't know what I'll do.

I hear a small "I'm here," coming from the couch and I turn around. Thank God. Thank God.

She's curled up in the corner of the sofa, her arms wrapped around her knees, rocking slowly back and forth. She looks so small and damaged. She looks so much like the woman she was five years ago, when she first started believing that Mulder was dead, that it makes my stomach lurch sickeningly.

I sit down on the other side of the couch, wanting to touch her but, for the first time in a long time, not entirely sure how well the gesture would go over with her.

I clear my throat and try to decide what the fuck to say.

"Want me to brush your hair, devotchka?" I end up asking. I dunno. Sometimes she finds it soothing. And it might help me a whole hell of a lot right now. It would be familiar. Something to hold onto.

But she shakes her head no.

"Maybe we oughtta try and get some sleep," I suggest and get another head shake in response.

"You go ahead. I...I can't."

Like I could knowing that she's out here like...this.

"Dana..."

"Is it him, Alex? Is it?"

I tell her the only thing that I can.

"I don't know, devotchka. I don't know."

Part Two

I'm relatively sure that I've been here for three days. It's difficult to tell because there are no windows here. Only three white washed cement walls and one chain link fence that separates me from the rest of the basement. I have a small cot on the floor which is also made of cement, a sink and toilet, and a little furry rodent friend I've taken to calling Krycek-face.

The bastard himself hasn't been down to see me since that first night. The only person I've seen is a menacing looking warden-type guy who brings me food and water at somewhat regular intervals. So far he's given me six potatoes. I'm thinking I get two a day which is where the three day estimate comes from. He slides them through this little door in the fence. Just like a ferret cage. He doesn't say anything. Ever. I've tried talking to him. I've tried asking him to let me out of here, to let me see her, or at least to get Krycek down here so I can spit on him and see how he likes it. But he doesn't respond to anything I say or do.

I've tried screaming but no one hears. No one comes.

When I hear the door opening and footsteps moving down the stairs, I figure it's potato man and that maybe another day has passed.

But the footsteps are different. Softer. Could it be? I try not to let myself hope, but I do anyway. When I see her standing in front of my cell I think that maybe the isolation has driven me insane. Maybe I am hallucinating.

I run up to the caging and press my face against the wire, reach my fingers through the holes, trying to touch her to see if she's real.

"Sc..Scully?"

It is only when I speak her name that I realize how hoarse and dehydrated I sound.

She nods and says "Yes," very quietly. She's standing several feet away. But she's here. God, she's really here.

And I have no idea what to say to her.

"Are you...are you okay, Scully?"

She looks at me strangely, with an expression I don't recognize, can't place.

"You...you sound like you need some water. I'll be right back."

"NO!" My throat aches with the effort of yelling, reminding me just how badly I do need water but I'm terrified to let her out of my sight now that she's here. What if she never comes back?

"No, Scully, just...just stay a minute."

She stands there with her arms crossed protectively over her chest, mouth drawn in a tight, straight line, looking pointedly away from me and all I can do is stare. She looks so incredibly beautiful. I just want to drop to my knees at her feet and sob. I can't get to her feet though because I'm in a fucking cage.

"I'm....sorry. About this," she says, gesturing broadly at my surroundings. "I didn't....didn't realize."

"That's, no, Scully, that's not your fault. God, I don't blame you. It's not you. I realize that. It's him. He's a bastard, Scully. That's..."

She flinches and shakes her head.

"No, it is my fault partially. You don't..."

"No, I won't accept that, Scully. This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with with with...HIM."

She sighs and finally looks directly at my face, searching.

"You certainly act like him," she murmurs and I notice a tear gathering in the corner of her eye.

"I...what?"

"Who are you? Who are you really?"

My heart sinks into my shoes and my mouth goes completely dry.

"I...Sc....Scully?" I whisper and she covers her mouth with her hand.

"Don't you know? Don't you know me, Scully? God, please don't do this to me."

"I...I thought..."

"What?"

"I saw...I saw you die! I saw it. I saw it."

The pain and anguish in her eyes is almost overbearing. It's almost enough to make me want to look away from her. God, Scully, I'm so sorry.

"You saw...what you saw..." I stammer, sensing the reemergence of an old argument. Do you still hold onto your scientific observation, Scully? Is that still your truth after all of this. I hope so. But I also hope there's room in there for an allowance, an understanding of what I am. What's happened to me.

I wonder if you can see the irony here. I have become the very thing that I struggled for so long to prove the existence of. To you especially.

"And...and, if you didn't die, if what you told Alex is true, then...then where were you? Where, where have you been, Mulder?"

Now I really can't look at her anymore. How can I explain? How could she ever accept this? How could I have possibly screwed up this badly?

"Where?" she whispers, moving closer to the barrier between us. Something in the back of my head registers the fact that she's just referred to my captor as "Alex" once again but I push it down and away before considering it.

Then I realize that if she's gotten her information about me from him, it's no wonder she doesn't know what to think. God only knows what he's told her.

"Wait, wait. What did he, what did 'Alex' tell you?"

"That you told him you were converted. Against your will. That that's what I saw."

I just nod, shocked speechless by the fact that the little shit told the truth for once in his life.

"Is that what really happened?"

"Yes."

"So then, where...where were you, Mulder? I mean why..."

There are a thousand unspoken questions in that one word. Why, Mulder? Why? Why did you let this happen to me? Why did you stay away? Why?

I can't stand to even face her anymore, to see the questions, the confusion in her eyes. I turn around and face the wall and inhale a few times, struggling for the words to explain.

"Mulder?"

"I uh...when I woke up, after, I had no recollection of what had happened to me. I thought...I thought I'd fallen asleep, taken a nap on my couch."

I laugh a little bit and turn back to her, hoping to see at least one of the corners of her mouth turn up a fraction of an inch. She's still got her arms crossed and now she's frowning. It's getting worse.

"Uh...anyway, turns out I'd been out for weeks. When I finally came to I looked up to see our old friend Smokey, hovering above me. I couldn't believe he was still alive, Scully. Couldn't believe it. I thought maybe he was the devil, coming to bring me back to hell with him."

I search her eyes for a grain of understanding but she's so closed off to me.

"What happened next?"

"Uh...next. Next I flew up out of that bed I was lying on and proceeded to strangle the bastard."

She sighs impatiently and closes her eyes.

"And after that?"

"After that I felt a prick on my arm and I lost consciousness again. And then...then I woke up and he uh...he told me what had happened to me. And...to you."

"To me."

"He told me that...that you were a slave."

Her mouth drops open a tiny bit and she exhales a billow of air.

"He...Scully..."

"You knew, then. You knew that I was alive, that I was a slave."

"Yes," I whisper, my head ducked down as far as it could go.

"You knew...did you know that I saw, that I thought you were dead?"

"He gave me a deal, Scully," I blurt, now desperate to get it all out and face whatever wrath she might have for me.

"Deal?"

"He told me that if I worked for him for seven years and didn't try to find you or anything that after the seven years were over, we'd both be free. And...and he said they'd take the chip out and that they'd cure you so you wouldn't get the cancer. He said they'd convert you and then you wouldn't get sick."

"Seven ye...I was supposed to be a slave for seven years?"

"I didn't...he said you wouldn't know the difference, Scully. That it would be better for you."

I realize how completely lame that sounds and shut my mouth. God, if I say "he said!" one more time I think I'm going to be sick.

"Mulder..."

"Scully, I just wanted to be able to see you again. To know that you were all right and that we'd be together again. I didn't...I didn't know what else to do. They were going to kill you otherwise!"

"Mulder..." she says again and this time I control the urge to babble out more of an explanation in the silence.

"Mulder, I would have rather died than be a slave for seven years."

I don't know what to say to that. I suppose a part of me knew that to be true but I didn't let myself consider it. How could I?

"Mulder, I can't...even...believe...You've been alive this entire time..."

I just nod, finding myself unable to speak. I bite my lip to keep myself from crying.

"Do you know what I...what....God, Mulder!"

"I didn't...I didn't know what else to do."

"You could have said no."

"Scully, they were taking care of you and...and I just wanted to be able to be with you again. I thought...I thought you'd want that too."

"I did want that, Mulder. When I got my brain back. But by then I thought you were dead."

"I know. I...it wasn't supposed to be this way."

I was supposed to be there when she remembered. I was supposed to take the chip out. I was supposed to be able to show her that I wasn't dead.

"No, I guess if it went the way it was supposed to, I would still be a slave right now. Only a year or so till I get to be 'converted' though so I guess that makes it worth it."

"I...I'm sorry, Scully. I just, I thought it was the only way. I thought I was protecting you."

She nods slowly and then looks away, trying to hide the fact that she is crying too.

After a few moments of painful, agonizing silence she asks, "Why did you trust him, Mulder? After everything."

"I...I don't...I just wanted to be with you again, Scully. I thought it was the only way."

She's quiet again for a moment and she stares at me. Her eyes grow dark and even colder.

"There's always another way," she says with a finality that I suppose signals the end of this conversation. I don't know what else I can say to explain this to her right now anyway. Besides, there are more pressing matters to be dealt with at the moment. Once we have a place where we can just be, then we can work out the past. I can make it up to her. I know that I can.

"Scully, we can, we can leave here you know. We can leave tonight."

"Mulder..." she breaks off into a sigh and shakes her head.

"We can, Scully. Just say the word. I can...I can get you out of here."

"Get me..." She finally smiles and even laughs a small, sad laugh. But it doesn't make me happy. I wasn't trying to be funny.

"Mulder, I think you're the one who needs me to get you out."

"Well, yeah but...I mean, I'm just saying we don't have to stay here."

"This, Mulder, I'm not being held prisoner here. This is my home."

"Your home? Here? With...with, with HIM?"

"Yes, Mulder, with him and the four or five hundred other people who live here. I've been here for five years. It's the only home I know."

"But, Scully, it's...it's KRYCEK!"

She rolls her eyes and puts her hands on her hips and I swear to God, she looks almost offended. I'm starting to think that bastard has been doing a little brainwashing of his own.

"Mulder, what does that mean?"

"Whaddya mean what does that mean? Scully, he...look at me! He's got me caged here like a fucking animal!"

"Mulder, he didn't know. He didn't know what you were. You could have been a spy, an assassin, God only knows what. Look, I'm not saying this was an appropriate way to handle it. I don't condone this but..."

"Scully! That's a load of crap! He's got me in here because he hates me. Because it makes him feel like a bigger man."

"Mulder, please. That's not..."

"Why are you defending him?"

Her face turns red, from anger or embarrassment I can't tell.

"He's been...he's a friend...to me."

"A friend? Krycek?"

"Mulder he...he helped me get through a lot of things. He...he saved my life, kept me from giving up, from..."

She looks down at her hands which are wrung together in a tight knot and I follow her eyes, noticing for the first time two small scars on the insides of her wrists. That can't be what it...

Oh, God. Oh, Scully.

"Sc..."

"This is a good place, Mulder. He's doing a good thing. I'm going to get the key and get you out of here so that you can decide for yourself whether or not you want to stay. As far as I'm concerned, you're welcome to."

She turns to go and I feel like this conversation just flew by way too fast. I didn't get to say anything important and I feel as though she's farther away from me than she was before we talked.

"Scully, wait!"

"Mulder?"

"I...I just, I need to ask you...um..."

She turns back to me and her body is still stiff and cold but there is a glimmer of warmth in her eyes. A tiny glimmer.

"Do you think you'll ever forgive me, Scully?"

"I...I can try, Mulder. This whole thing is going to take some time. We...we need some time to adjust."

I nod even though I don't need that time. I know what I want. I know what we need to do. God, I can't waste any more time.

"We can make up a room for you and get you a meal card and all that. Then if you decide to stay for good, we'll figure out something for you to do."

"Will you tuck me in at night?"

She doesn't respond but I guess I didn't expect her to. It's not like she would have before either.

"I'll be right back."

"Scully, you...you look good. Really, really...you look beautiful. I never, never got the chance to tell you that...really."

She gives me a very strange, unreadable look and mutters "thank you". Then she turns around and runs up the stairs and away from me.

Part Three

"What do you mean she let him out?"

"Um, she, uh...she told us you approved his release, sir."

Jesus Christ. What the hell does that crazy woman think she's doing? I can't even believe she'd have the gall, not only to lie to one of my men but to lie to ME. Right to my fucking face.

I'm going for a walk, Alex. I need a little fresh air, Alex. No, you don't need to come with me, Alex. I'll only be a little while.

And now I'm supposed to stand here and keep my cool and pretend that none of this is anything to panic about.

"Where did they go?"

"I think...I think she took him to a room, sir."

"What room?"

"Probably in Dakin I guess. That's where most of the empty rooms are."

Stupid sonofabitch's been here what, three days? Already my authority has been undermined and the only person in the world who I was absolutely certain would never ever lie to me about anything has lied to me about something. It's gotta be Mulder. Who else could cause so much misery in my life in seventy two short hours?

I can't even yell at these guys for taking Dana's orders without question. I'm the one who trained them to do that in the first place. I never thought she'd use that against me.

By the time I get to Dakin, I can practically feel the blood boiling underneath my skin.

It doesn't take long to find the little shit. He's certainly not bothering with discretion. They've moved him into a room on the first floor and he's sitting there with the door wide open, bouncing up and down on the bed with his back turned. Nice to see that he's made himself at home so quickly. Obviously living amongst the drones has dulled his survival instincts.

"Couldn't you have gotten me a waterbed, Scully?"

"No but I'm sure we can arrange to have you sleep in the river."

His head whips around and he looks frightened for a split second and then cocky as hell.

"What the hell is going on here, Mulder?"

"Looks like I've been upgraded. You know, I'm glad you're here cause I've got a few complaints about my previous accommodations. Is that how you treat all your guests?"

"Just the ones with oil running through their veins."

I hear a sigh from behind me and Dana brushes past me, carrying a bundle of used clothing.

"Oh good," Mulder says to her. "I was about to call security. Scully, I don't mean to complain, but I seem to have a rodent problem in my room."

Such a funny fucking guy.

She looks back and forth between us nervously and sighs again.

"Dana, can I talk to you for a second?" I ask in the flattest, least infuriated tone I can muster.

"I..." she starts but doesn't finish because Mulder can't resist interrupting.

"You don't have to, Scully." He tells her, jumping to his feet in some sort of pseudo-protective gesture. Always gotta stick his huge-assed nose into every stupid thing.

"Mulder, stay out of this. It doesn't concern you."

"Like hell it doesn't! Who the hell do you think you are, barking commands at her like that?"

"Barking co...Mulder, sit down and shut up."

He moves closer so that he's standing right in front of me, eye to eye, his face the only thing in my sight.

"Why don't you make me, tough guy?"

"All right! That's enough!" Dana shouts, tossing the clothes onto Mulder's bed. It takes all the self control I've got not to beat that fucking smirk off his mouth.

"Mulder, these are your keys, your meal card, and your rations card," she says, retrieving these items from her pockets and dumping them on his desk. "Enjoy your stay at the Enchanted Commune. I'll see you both later."

She walks past me again and towards the door and I start to follow her but Mulder jumps between us.

"Wait, Scully, where are you going?"

"I'm going for a walk. Goodbye."

"Wait, I...I'll come with you," he tells her, obviously missing the implication of the word GOODBYE. Then he reaches out to touch her arm but before he can get to her I catch his wrist in my hand.

"Don't touch her," I warn him. His look of confusion and disbelief tells me that whatever these two have talked about today, it didn't include her relationship with me. She didn't tell him. She didn't fucking tell him and now he thinks I'm acting like a psycho and he's got the right to put his hands all over her.

He tries to pull his hand away but I squeeze his wrist tighter.

"Don't."

A look of alarm passes briefly over Dana's face and she glances imploringly at me.

"Mulder, I just really need to be alone now, okay?"

"Oh...uh, okay, of course," he mumbles but I still can't seem to let go of him. I feel like I need to hold him in place until she's out of sight.

When she does walk away I realize that I better forget about Mulder for now and go after her or I'll lose her again. I drop his arm and give him a final glare and start walking out into the hallway. Dammit, she's already gone. She must have run.

"Wait!" Mulder calls after me and this time he grabs my arm. "She said she wanted to be alone."

"Get out of my face, Mulder."

"Leave her alone."

God, this is just too much. It's all just too much.

"Look, I don't know who the hell you think you are but you've got no right, no FUCKING right to talk to me like that."

"Oh and why's that? Cause you're the big boss man? I'm not afraid of you, Krycek. And I'm not gonna let you boss her around and and...brainwash her anymore!"

Brainwash? Is that what he thinks? That she'd only be here with me if I had some kind of Jedi mind control power over her brain or something? My desire to tell him just exactly how much she wants to be here and why is almost enough to outweigh my desperate need to talk to her immediately. But not quite. Not yet. Besides, she should be the one to tell him. Not me. He'd never believe it from me anyway and I damn well want him to believe it.

"Listen to me you son of a bitch," I tell him, pulling my sleeve out of his hand. "As far as I'm concerned, you're lucky to even be alive. Don't test me, Mulder. I'm warning you. Stay out of my business, stay out of my face."

"And I'm warning you, if you do anything else to hurt her, I'll kill you."

"Hurt her? Oh that's rich, Mulder. This coming from the person who's hurt her more than anything else ever has or ever could."

I'm not surprised to feel his fist colliding with my jaw. It's certainly not the first time Mulder has expressed himself to me in this fashion. But I am surprised by the fact that finding Dana is still the most pressing concern on my mind. I don't have time to stand here and fight with him.

"All the punches in the world aren't gonna change the facts, Mulder. And the fact is, I haven't done a damn thing to hurt her. Now don't make me hurt you."

He backs away from me a fraction and runs his hand through his hair. His fingers are splattered with my blood. Great. I wonder if my lip is starting to swell yet. So nice to have Mulder back.

"Just get out of my room, Krycek. Just...go," he tells me, and I do because I'm seriously afraid that if I stay, I might kill him.

It takes me almost twenty minutes to find Dana and when I do, when I call after her and run up to her side, she doesn't slow down even a little bit. Those small legs move pretty damn fast.

She's walking on the trail between the dorms and the lab. I don't think she's going to work though. I think she's headed beyond the lab, into the forest. She has this tendency to run off to the forest when she's upset. Especially when it's freezing out.

"Dana! What the hell was that about?"

"What was what about?" she asks, still walking, still not looking at me.

"You just, just let him go? Invite him to live here? Without even consulting with me about it?"

"He's harmless, Alex."

"Harmless? Dana, we don't even know who he really is, if he's even really Mulder."

"It's Mulder," she says, with a finality that unnerves me.

"We don't even know why he's here."

"It is him and I know why he's here."

"Well, care to share?"

She pulls her jacket tightly around her body as the wind picks up and blows through us.

"He's here to see me."

And this is supposed to put me at ease how?

"To see you."

"Yes, that's what he told me."

"And you just believe him? Unconditionally?"

She finally stops walking and turns on her heel to face me. Some snow swirls around in the air and lands on her hair.

"Yes I believe him and speaking of not consulting with people, who the hell do you think you are, keeping him caged like a goddamn animal and not consulting with ME about that?"

"I didn't...I didn't wanna upset you. God, Dana, what the hell was I supposed to do with him? I thought he was a danger to us, to everybody."

"First of all, you had no idea if he was a danger or not. Second of all, there's no excuse for keeping someone in isolation, feeding them next to nothing, not even giving them enough water to keep from becoming dehydrated..."

"He seems healthy enough," I mumble, rubbing my chin dismally. I think my lip is still bleeding.

"And third of all, Alex, this has got nothing to do with the safety of the group or anything else other than the fact that he poses some kind of threat to you. Personally." She whispers that last word like it's some kind of profanity. God forbid I should take things personally.

"Oh does he now? I didn't realize that."

She closes her eyes and shakes her head and I feel a sickening heaviness in my stomach all of a sudden. I feel like I'm going to vomit.

"I'm going to keep walking, Alex. And I don't want you to follow me."

"Dana, don't. It's so cold. Just...just come inside."

I touch her shoulder and she jerks away.

"I'll come inside when I'm good and ready. And I won't have you telling me when!"

"Dana..."

"Please give Ret some water. I'll be home in an hour or so."

I shrug, resigned to the end of this bizarre train wreck of a conversation and she starts to walk away.

"Devotchka, wait! At least...at least keep warm."

I take off my jacket and drape it over her shoulders. I guess I should be grateful that she doesn't toss it into the snow and spit on it at this point.

I used to come to these woods when I was lonely, when I thought that the pain of missing Mulder would destroy me. The way the ice looks on the tree branches, the sound of the water in the stream that never seems to freeze running over the rocks, the way the air burns the back of my throat when I breathe it in, these things all remind me of that emptiness, that longing. At first I resented the sameness of nature, its refusal to change despite the fact that my entire world had fallen apart. But gradually I came to take comfort in it.

I haven't been here in a long time. It looks different today. I wonder what that means.

I wonder what I'm going to do.

Once upon a time, I would have done anything, killed, died, walked through fire, to see this day. To see Mulder, alive, with me. Here. He's here.

And now...now...

Now all I can think is; How the hell am I going to keep Mulder and Alex from killing each other? And all I can feel is...

Cold. God, it's so cold.

I should really be getting back. Alex is going to start worrying soon. It's been almost two hours.

By the time I get home, it's almost dark out. I pause outside the door for a moment, mentally preparing myself for a continuation of the ridiculous argument from before, but when I walk inside I am surprised to find Alex sound asleep on the couch.

God, what a stark contrast to the ripping mad man in black I was just fighting with a couple of hours ago. He's changed into a pair of beaten up, old, gray sweatpants, and a worn out, burgundy shirt with three buttons at the top, all of which are undone. He's got a book resting on top of his chest and Ret sprawled over his stomach and both dog and man are snoring away, oblivious to the fact that I'm watching them. His hair is a little damp and mussed. Must have taken one hell of a good shower while I was gone.

It would feel so good to lay down next to him, to curl up into him and just forget...everything.

I close the door softly but his eyes flutter open with the sound.

"Hey babe," he smiles at me, his voice scratchy from sleep.

"Hi."

I take off his jacket and then mine and hang them by the door, eyeing him cautiously and wondering when he's going to remember that we were fighting.

He yawns and stretches and rubs his eyes. Then he tells me, "I made pasta for dinner. It's on the stove if you want some."

I walk over to the stove and sure enough there's a pot full of spaghetti with tomato sauce simmering on top.

Who is this man and what did he do with that pissed off guy I was talking to before?

I guess I should be asking but I really don't even care. It's so nice to have some peace.

I stand over the stovetop and start eating right out of the pot, so suddenly hungry that I can't even stand the thought of waiting long enough to get a plate. It's nice and hot and it warms my insides.

After a minute or so I feel an arm around my stomach and a wet head against my neck.

"Jesus, Dana, you're freezing. I wish you wouldn't stay out there so long when it's like this."

"I...I needed some time. To...think," I tell him, my mouth full of noodles.

"And did you?"

Good question. Does it count as thinking if you're more confused after than you were to start with?

"Um...I guess, yeah. A bit. I dunno, you seem a lot more relaxed than I am. Maybe I should have just come back here."

"Well, I've...I've been doing some thinking myself."

"Oh yeah? Anything profound?"

"I realized that there are things, things in this world that are very important to me. And that I have to be careful to take care of those things..."

Oh God. I think I can see where this is going. If he tells me he put Mulder in a cage to "protect me" so help me God... So much for peace.

"I understand that, Alex but..."

"And I'm not going to be able to care for those things if I'm wasting all my time fighting with Mulder."

He kisses my neck and then steps back and to the side so that I can see his face. He looks sincere. God, I hope he's sincere. I smile and shovel more food into my face.

"That's some good thinking there, Captain."

"I also realized that...that I love you. I love you very much, and I should tell you that. So...uh, I love you, Dana. Love you."

At first I'm pretty sure that the last fifteen seconds have been a figment of my imagination. Then I look into those eyes and see that soft smile and the way he's shifting around on his feet and swallowing over and over and shaking and...

God. I am not hungry at all anymore. In fact, I think I want to spit out the food that's already in my mouth. Just thinking about swallowing makes my stomach churn. God.

What if I throw up?

Oh, God.

When I was sixteen years old I got my first speeding ticket. I had just gotten my license and I was cruising down the freeway in my father's cadilac, on the way to the beach to meet my friend Sylvia. I didn't realize that I was going that fast. I just wasn't paying attention.

I'll never forget the way I felt when I saw those red lights flashing in my rearview mirror. I was in such deep shit and I had no idea how I was going to get out of it. How I was going to explain to my parents.

Why do I feel the same way right now? Is it because of Mulder? Is it because I'm thinking that there might be another chance for me and Mulder? Do I really think that? Would Alex have even said it if Mulder weren't here? Does it make a difference since I know that he's telling me the truth no matter what brought it on?

God. Swallow.

"Um, Dana..."

He reaches up to his chin in a gesture that says, "you're drooling" and I wipe at my face.

"Wh...where?"

"Here," he points to a spot right under my lip. Then he leans in and licks the dribble of sauce off my chin. And then he's kissing me and the panic and confusion give way for a moment to sheer elation. He loves me. Oh, God, he loves me.

I need to sit down.

My trembling legs manage to carry me over to the couch, which is still warm from Alex's body. I sit down and Ret flops on my lap, looking for more attention. I pet him absently and Alex sits on the floor next to my legs.

I want to talk to him but my throat is so dry and I don't know what to say anyway, so I just sit there. He doesn't say anything else for a long time either and I wonder what he's thinking, what he's feeling. He's probably scared out of his mind.

Then he starts untying my boots. It takes him quite awhile but eventually he gets both of them completely unlaced and pulls them off my feet. Then he removes my thick, wool socks. He laughs when he reaches the thinner, cotton, under-layer of sock.

"Where's your feet?"

"I think they're under those."

He looks up at me with another smile and takes them off. My toes wiggle, happy to be in the open air finally. He takes my left foot in his hand and starts gently massaging the arch and my head falls back against the couch. I sigh with contentment even though my insides are still churning.

I let my eyes close and my brain turn off so that I can enjoy this wonderful foot massage fully. After a few minutes I actually start to feel like I might fall asleep.

But then, from far away, I hear a voice.

"...wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."

"Hmmwha...?"

"I...I said that I've been thinking about some...stuff. From the past. From our past. And, I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry for anything I did that hurt you. I...I didn't mean to hurt you, Dana. It wasn't...it was never something I wanted."

It hurts to do so but I open my eyes again.

"Past...?"

"I just, I wanted to maybe explain. To talk about it, you know. Because I..."

"Alex, what are you talking about?"

He stops massaging and turns his head up to look at me. He's grimacing like he's in pain. I don't remember the last time I saw such fear in his eyes. Maybe the first time we made love...

"I'm...I'm talking about what I did, Dana. All the things I did that ended up hurting you. Before. Before you were here...you know?"

Oh my God. What is he doing? What is he trying to do to me?

"Alex, wait. Let's...let's not."

"But..."

"It's not, it's not necessary."

"Not necessary?"

"No. It's..."

"Does that mean that you forgive me, Dana? That you understand why..."

"Alex, it's not...it's not necessary. My past with you started five years ago."

"But it..."

"My past with you started five years ago. The rest doesn't matter. It doesn't count. So...so let's not talk about it, okay?"

He shrugs and looks down and I swear to God if I didn't know any better, I'd say he looked like he was about to cry.

"Um...yeah, okay. I just thought....well, I just love you, so I...I dunno."

"Alex, what happened to your lip?"

Yes, I noticed it before now. Yes, I have a pretty good idea what happened. Yes, I am desperate to change the subject, even if it makes him angry to talk about it.

"Mulder," he grumbles.

"It's all swollen. We should put some ice on it."

I pull my foot out of his hand and walk over to the kitchen area to find some ice and a bag to put it in.

"Dana, you...you should probably tell him. About us, you know? You should tell him that I'm in love with you."

God, Alex. Please stop saying that. I just don't know what to do with it yet.

"I...I will. I will tell him. I just...haven't had a good opportunity yet."

I grab some ice cubes and put them in a plastic bag and I wonder if a good opportunity for such a thing could possibly exist.

"Just...do it soon, devotchka. Do it soon."

Part Four

I miss my Alex.

It hit me today, the way most things concerning Alex seem to; sudden and hard. I worked in the infirmary today instead of the research lab. The flu has been hitting pretty hard, especially among the few kids we've got here. I spent the day doing whatever I could to help. It was a busy, stressful day but for some reason, this afternoon as I was taking my twentieth temperature it snuck into my consciousness out of the blue. We haven't made love since Mulder's been here. It's been two weeks already.

And two weeks since Alex told me that he loves me.

I'm not sure why it's been happening, or rather, hasn't been, but I don't like it. We've both been very busy, but we're always very busy. I'd like to believe that it's not about Mulder, but I suppose that's the only explanation. Things have just been...odd between us lately. I don't think either of us has figured out how to just be yet. I think he's afraid to touch me. No, I don't like it.

I still haven't told Mulder about us. Maybe that's part of it too. Maybe some pathetic, denial wracked part of me feels that if we don't actually have sex then I'm not actually hiding anything from Mulder.

The morning after that first strange day, when I let Mulder out of his cage, I went back to his room and asked him something that I'd forgotten about. Something very important. I asked him how in the world he had managed to find us.

He told me about the tape and about Spender and the smoking bastard. He told me that they probably know where we are. I told Alex about that and we've yet to decide what exactly to do about it. Or what it even means. It was a very upsetting thing to find out. But the fact that Mulder told me was the first sign I got that I could really start to trust him again.

And after he told me that he started telling me about his life, what he'd been doing for all these years. How he'd been missing me. The work he'd been doing. The limited information he'd had access to.

I've been spending time with him since then, getting him used to living here, explaining how things work and such. My anger towards him has been waning somewhat and we've been getting along, getting to the point where we feel somewhat comfortable around each other again. And it's been nice. And I'm afraid that if I tell him about Alex, things are going to be not so nice. I don't know why I'm being such a coward about this. I wish I could stop.

He asked me where I lived last week and I just pointed in the general direction of the building like a moron, completely ignoring the one genuine opportunity I've had to explain things to him. My avoidance is starting to annoy Alex.

A lot of things are starting to annoy Alex. Not the least of which, I'm sure, being the fact that we haven't made love in two goddamn weeks. Tonight...tonight I will try. I will try to show him what I still can't seem to say.

God, it's so late already. I've been here forever. I missed dinner I'm sure. Alex is probably over at the lab looking for me. I don't think he knew I was in the infirmary today.

I start to hurry in getting what I need to get done so that I can get out of here and go home. Sterilizing medical equipment is sort of a dull task and as I carry it out I find myself starting to daydream in a way that I haven't allowed myself to in quite some time. I think about him kissing me, touching me, brushing my hair and it makes me so warm inside. God, why have I been doing this to us?

I have to get out of here.

Just have to bring these thermometers back into the examining room and I'll be done. I push open the door to the back room and when I see them there, I feel a sickening knot form in my stomach.

It's Alex. And that...woman. I've only seen her a couple of times since they first got here. Mulder told me a little bit about her, who she was in the time before and why he had brought her with him. Alex hasn't mentioned her at all even though he knew her, said her name when he saw her.

She's sitting on the stool I've been using in examinations all day and Alex is sitting on a chair behind her, his knees around her waist and his hand buried under her hair. He's looking down at her neck intently.

I start to say something but find that my throat is too dry to speak. God, what...

He looks up suddenly, startled. As if I'd caught him doing something bad. Have I?

Then I see the tweezers in his hand and the blood.

"Al...Alex, what are you doing?"

"I'm uh..taking this out," he mumbles, holding up the tweezers. A small, round, metallic chip is wedged between the two tips.

"Oh, no no no. Alex, you're not even wearing gloves!"

Now that I know what's happening, at least on the surface, my near panic subsides and gives way to annoyance and disbelief. What the hell was he thinking?

I walk over to them and he stands up quickly, allowing me access to her. Her neck is bleeding profusely. I take a pair of rubber gloves from my pocket and snap them on, barking an order for Alex to get me some antiseptic and a washcloth.

I start tending to the wound on her neck and Alex stands by, gawking and opening and closing his mouth. Marita still hasn't moved or spoken.

"Marita, it's Dana. How are you?"

When I speak to her she jumps and turns around to look at me. It doesn't look like she recognizes me at all from the past two weeks.

I can't resist glaring at Alex. I can't even believe he tried to do this himself.

"It's...this is how I did yours..." he says in a shrill, defensive tone. Yes, it is. And it went so well that time, didn't it.

"Marita? Are you okay?"

She's starting to breathe too fast and her eyes are tearing up. She looks completely confused and panicked.

"It's okay, Marita. Breathe..."

She jumps up suddenly and grabs at her neck. Then she looks at Alex. She looks at Alex and she looks utterly terrified.

"Alex...?" she whispers. I stand myself and look at him. He's looking at the ground.

"Alex, oh God...what did you do to me?"

She starts pulling at the bandage I just put on her neck and clawing at the skin.

"No, Marita don't touch it," I tell her and, strangely, she listens to me.

"What did you do, Alex? Where am I? What the HELL is going on?!"

I look at Alex again, hoping for some kind of reassurance but none if forthcoming. He's just standing there like a jack-ass. God, what the hell was he thinking?

"Marita, it's okay. I'll take you to your room and we can talk and get you some dinner and..."

"Where the hell am I?"

She's shouting now, and crying and Goddamn you Alex, this is NOT the way I wanted to spend this night.

I put my hands on her shoulders and try to lead her to the door but she jerks away from me, snapping, "Get your hands off me!" and then glaring at Alex herself.

"What the hell did you do to me you sonofabitch?"

"Um...maybe I...maybe I should go," he says. Great. That's just really great.

"Yeah, go. Let me clean up your mess. It's really my pleasure."

"I...I'm upsetting her. I don't..."

And then, as if to prove his point, Marita grabs his shoulders and starts shaking him.

"What the hell did you do to me? Tell me you bastard!"

He pulls away and backs towards the door with a horrified look on his face. I can't even begin to understand what he thought was going to happen when he did this. And I can't keep myself from wondering how exactly these two knew each other. Whatever the relationship was, it doesn't look as though it was a good one. But then why would he feel the need to take her chip out himself?

God, I don't have time to wonder about this. She's crying again and scratching at her neck and Alex is creeping out the door like a little snake.

"I'm...I'll get another doctor or something," he mutters.

"Don't bother. I'll tell her what she wants to know. I'll stay with her."

He nods and stands in the doorway for a moment, just staring.

"Alex..."

"I...I'm sorry," he says quietly. And then he leaves.

Marita has collapsed into the chair he was sitting on before and she's sobbing now. I try to hug her but she won't let me. It's going to be a long night.

It's been almost five hours since I left them. About two hours ago I toyed with the idea of going back but I told myself they were probably gone by now and that I would have no idea where to look for them. Yes, I know where Marita's room is. No, I am not a coward.

I'm not. I know that's probably what she thinks of me now. I saw it in her eyes as she watched me leave her there with "my mess". She thinks I screwed things up and then ran away when the shit hit the fan. She doesn't understand.

I had to do it. It was my responsibility. Why doesn't she understand that? We used to be so together on things like this. She used to understand me.

A little voice in my head reminds me that I haven't exactly been open with her, that I might have been better off talking to her about the situation beforehand, asking for her help maybe. But the little voice shuts up fast when the big voice starts thinking about all the other crap I've been putting up with lately. How am I supposed to talk to her about anything anymore? She's never here.

It seems like I've been seeing less and less of her since Mulder came here. And who knows how much of the time that she spends away from me is spent with him. I've been true to my promise to her and stayed far away from him. I haven't even seen him more than once or twice since that first couple of days. But I feel his presence here as strongly as if he'd packed up his stuff and moved into my living room.

She still hasn't told him about us. I don't know how much longer she thinks she can keep it a secret. It's getting ridiculous.

And how long has it been since I finally spilled my guts all over this floor? I'm beginning to think that telling her I love her and trying to apologize for whatever I might have done to hurt her was the biggest mistake I've ever made. She's been so distant since that night.

The most pathetic thing is I keep repeating the idiocy. It seems like every time I see her the crap starts pouring out of my mouth. I love you, Dana. Oh, I love you so much. And she just sits there staring at the wall like I'm reciting tax law to her. Fucking pathetic.

And goddammit, how long has it been since we've had sex again? Oh yeah, since Mulder got here. Funny how that works.

So, yeah, none of this has anything to do with what just happened but it's really starting to piss me off and it's making it difficult to look at anything with an open mind.

Maybe I should tell her about Marita and me. Maybe she'd be jealous. Maybe then she'd start to care about us again.

Not bloody likely. It's not like there's anything to be jealous of. The story's more humiliating than anything else and the last thing I need to feel right now is humiliated.

The sound of the door slamming interrupts my thoughts. Finally.

Ret runs to her and jumps up, putting his paws on her chest and licking her face. Wish it were that easy for me. She smiles and kisses him and then tells him to get down and he does. Stupid dog is more whipped than I am.

She gives me a nasty look.

"Did you eat?" she asks in a thoroughly bitchy tone. I'm sitting at the table so I guess it's a reasonable question but it pisses me off for some reason.

"No."

"So what were you doing here all this time?"

"Sitting."

She makes a disgusted face and leaves the room.

"I made coffee," I call out to her as she walks into the bedroom. Don't ask me why. I guess to show that I've done something besides brood without her.

"Did you leave any for me?" she asks in that same tone. Then she slams some drawers around.

"There's plenty. It's not very good though."

"Of course," she grumbles. Like it's my fault the coffee maker is from the 1970's, bitch?

Oh God. What the hell is happening to us?

"Where the hell is my green T-shirt?" she shouts, amidst more slamming and banging.

"Under the cushions on the couch."

Right where I stuffed it last time we had sex ten million years ago. I haven't been able to go over there and take it out because it'll just make me think of that and I can't think about having sex with her anymore. It's actually starting to hurt my dick even now.

Just as I'm contemplating burning the sofa she comes running out of the bedroom wearing nothing but a pair of plaid flannel pajama bottoms. No top. No bra. Nothing.

She goes to the couch and starts digging around in the cushions and her breasts are swaying and bouncing and she's taken her hair out of the bun it was in before and it's hanging down her back and just brushing the tips of her nipples which are hard and rosy and...God. What was I thinking about before?

She finally finds the shirt and lifts it up from where it's wedged but before she can put it on I walk over to her and grab part of it.

"Don't," I say, gently I hope.

"Don't what? Alex, give me my shirt."

"Don't put it on."

I tug on the shirt, pulling her closer to me.

"Why? Alex, let go." She pulls on it and I pull back.

"C'mere."

"No, Alex, I'm not kidding around. Let go of my shirt. I'm going to bed."

"So what do you need a shirt for if you're going to bed?"

"I'm cold."

"I can keep you warm. Come here."

I let go of the stupid shirt and move closer to her. I reach out and start to wrap my arm around her waist but she pulls away with a start when my hand touches her skin.

"Don't! Don't touch me."

I step back from her immediately. Far back. She sounds almost frightened. Jesus. I can't deal with this anymore. I don't even know what to say to her. Which is good I guess because she just walks away anyhow, pulling her stupid shirt over her head and disappearing into the bedroom.

I can't even move. All I can do is stand here and stare at the spot where she just told me not to touch her.

And then suddenly, she's back, behind me.

"How do you know her?"

I turn around cautiously, wondering what mood she's decided to switch to now.

"What?"

"Marita. How do you know her?"

"I thought you didn't want to talk about the time before," I say, snidely I suppose. But what the hell does she care anyway? She's got some kind of strange selectivness when it comes to the past that I can't figure out. Our past starts five years ago. None of the rest matters. Except Mulder of course. He matters. Their past is significant. And now, apparantly, whatever stupid-ass things I might have done that have nothing to do with her matter as well.

"Did she work for them?"

"Yeah, she did. Kind of."

"Goddammit, Alex. Don't play this game with me. Tell me how you knew her!"

I can't believe this. Can't fucking believe it.

"I just did. She was...I dunno, she was just around..."

"How well did you know her?"

"I dunno, not too well."

That's the God's honest truth but she looks at me like she doesn't believe it.

"You're lying to me. I can tell."

"I'm not lying! Jesus, why are you giving me the third degree about this all of a sudden?"

"Because I just spent five hours sitting with this hysterical woman who wouldn't stop ranting about what a bastard you are and how you must have done something awful to her. And I wouldn't have been there in the first place if you hadn't tried to take her chip out all by yourself without even telling me about it and then run out on me when the shit hit the fan. And I know you're hiding something from me, Alex! And it feels like you're lying to me and I hate that!"

I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do here. I thought I wanted her to be jealous but this is not what I was thinking of. I don't even know what this is. It's like she can't even trust me anymore.

She stares at me for another minute and then storms back into the bedroom. When she comes back out she's carrying my pillow.

"What's that for?"

She just tosses it on the couch and says "Good night."

"Dana..."

"Come on, Ret. Time to go night night."

"Dammit, Dana!"

Fucking blackmail is what this is. Like it even matters where I sleep. She won't let me touch her no matter where I am.

"All right, fine. I slept with her. Okay? I slept with Marita a long long time ago. Is that what you wanted to know?"

She's quiet for a minute and her back is turned to me so I can't tell what the hell she's thinking. What's the big fucking deal? I've fucked practically everyone she knows in this place anyway.

"How much?" she asks.

"How much? What the hell does that mean?"

"I mean was it a one time thing or did you have a relationship with her or what?"

Relationship? God, I dunno whether to laugh at that or what. Doesn't she know she's the only person I've ever had anything even resembling a real relationship with?

"I don't know, Dana. It was something in between. Five or six times maybe. I dunno."

"Why didn't you put her in a holding cell?"

"Because she was a slave, Dana! What the hell was she gonna do?"

She nods a little bit but doesn't say anything. She might as well be a million miles away. And I just can't stand it any more. I just can't.

"Dammit, Dana, why are you so fucking pissed off at me?" I ask in a voice that's even louder and angrier than I intended. Not as loud as I'd like to be though. I feel like screaming.

She doesn't answer me. Just stands there with her back turned to me, probably making a list in her head. Reasons I can no longer stand you...

"I don't...I dunno..." she finally says quietly and her shoulders sag. "Did...did you love her?"

Oh my God. That's great. That's so fucking perfect I can't even believe it. I almost wish that I had.

"I barely knew her," I tell her, yet again."She stabbed me in the back," I add stupidly. Like I'm not already dangling out there in the breeze. Maybe I should just hand over my balls right now and get it over with.

"I'm...I'm sorry. I need to go to bed..."

I'm not sure if she's apologizing for being angry with me or for wanting to go to sleep. I'm not sure if this means it's okay for me to sleep in my own bed now.

"All right. I'll see you in the morning."

She nods and starts walking back to the bedroom but then she stops and clears her throat. Something you'd like to say to me, Dana? Anything? Anything at all?

"Alex, you don't...you don't have to sleep out here."

Well, I guess that's something. Not much considering the fact that this is my place to begin with, considering how fucking pathetic I am to let her dictate where I do and do not sleep at night.

"Whatever. It's up to you."

She turns around and smiles a very small but sweet smile.

"Come to bed, Alex."

And I do. I lie down next to her with my eyes wide open and my body stiff as a board and I stay that way for a very long time. I think that she lies next to me, equally awake but we don't touch each other. Her in her pajama pants and her fucking green T-shirt and me in my boxer shorts, afraid to offend her with my nakedness. We don't say another word. And I wonder if I'll ever be able to touch her again without hearing her words ringing in my ears.

Don't touch me, Alex. Don't touch me.

Part Five

The room was gray and metallic and he tasted blood in his mouth. There were sounds, grinding, crushing, like bones being shredded, ringing in his ears. There were no doors or windows. Rows and rows of empty metal slabs and the man was there, the man who told him that this was a war and that he was on the right side. He was. He had to be.

He was in a suit, starchy and scratchy. Blue and ugly and cheap and a tie for the first time in he didn't even know how long.

Dana...Dana was there. Dana but not Dana. She was Scully. She was Mulder's partner. She was that chubby girl from the autopsy bay. She was a problem. She was a necessary casualty. She was laid out on one of the slabs, naked, her belly bloated with an unnatural pregnancy, her eyes open but glazed over.

He stood at her feet and told her, calm, cold, "Spread your legs, Miss Scully."

The man behind him handed him an instrument, a metal device with sharp points and hard edges, a whirling, gouging piece of hell. He dropped it on the floor, preferring to use his own hands.

Hands. Two again. More of him on the outside, less on the inside.

Her knees bent up and thighs spread apart, exposing herself completely to him and to the man.

He hesitated a moment, frightened, unsure. How could this possibly be right? His father...he didn't understand.

"Do it, Alex," the man behind him whispered urgently. He didn't suppose he had a choice.

He reached up with both hands, digging into her impossibly stretched, impossibly wide vagina. He groped around inside, sloshing through blood and bodily fluids, high and deep in her, in this place that was supposed to be full of life and pleasure but now, dead, rotten, until he felt it. A tiny foot. He grabbed hold of it with both hands and pulled as hard as he could.

She looked down at him with a blank stare of incomprehension. It must have hurt, he thought, but she didn't cry.

The small life came out in his hands, bloody, mucus everywhere, gaping, shrieking mouth. He pulled more, trying to dislodge the thing from her body but the cord was endless, clumpy, tied in knots.

He wrapped his hands around the neck of the half-dead, half-human thing and when it still breathed, he cracked the skull on the floor like an egg, watching as the green fluid flowed onto the tiles, burning everything in its path.

He tugged at the cord like a rope in a tug-of-war and soon another creature came out of her and then another and another and he slaughtered each one in succession without remorse.

The sounds and the smells, nauseating. He felt as if he were on the verge of vomiting from it but he couldn't stop himself from pulling the little monsters out.

Her eyes grew bloody, dilated and she sat up as he murdered her children and asked him calmly, "Why Alex? Why?"

He couldn't answer her because he didn't know.

"DANA!"

I wake up screaming and thrashing in damp, tangled sheets. Alone.

"Dana?" I call out again, my heart pounding so fast I can barely catch my breath. She's not here. God. Oh God.

Nightmare. It was just a nightmare. Another one. This was the worst one yet. The most completely nauseating. Usually my nightmares are based on things that have actually happened, things I've done to her, things I've seen done to her. But this one...

Where the hell is she? I roll onto my side with a groan and try to rub the sleep and confusion out of my eyes. Then I look at the clock.

Great. It's almost noon. I must have fallen asleep at dawn or some stupid thing. The last thing I remember is lying awake next to her for hours after that awful conversation about Marita and thinking I wasn't going to get any sleep at all. I guess I was wrong.

I roll out of bed and head to the bathroom for a shower and a shave and then remember the goddamn meeting. It was supposed to start forty-five minutes ago. All the committee heads, me, Scully and Mulder are supposed to be discussing what duties Mulder should be assigned to now that he's decided to stay here. I was all ready to have him taking out the trash but I'm late and they probably started without me.

Why the hell didn't she wake me up?

I brush my teeth quickly and pull some clothes on, forgoing that shower and trying to ignore the sweat clinging to me from my turbulent sleep. This meeting is more important than being powder fresh.

I make my way over to Patterson as quickly as I can, distracted but still haunted by the images from that dream. When I enter the building and see Dana, talking with Roseanne in the hallway outside the conference room, I have to hold myself back from running up to her and crushing her against me.

Instead I walk calmly towards them, trying not to let the relief at seeing her perfectly healthy show on my face. I'm still kinda pissed off at her, after all.

When Roseanne sees me coming she ducks back into the room, touching Dana on the shoulder briefly before she goes.

"Why didn't you wake me?" I ask her, more out of breath than I realized.

"I left for the lab at six am. You were finally asleep so I figured I'd let you be. Didn't realize you'd be comatose till the afternoon," she says quietly, with a smile. She's holding a clipboard against her chest and kind of rocking back and forth on her heels with a coy little expression. I don't know quite what to make of it.

"Well, what did I miss? It's not over already is it?"

"No, we haven't even started. Everyone's waiting inside for you."

"Oh...well, thanks. Thanks for waiting."

"Alex, why wouldn't we?" she asks with such tenderness in her voice that it makes me ache for a better time. A time when I would have felt comfortable kissing her right now, pressing her against the wall and sharing her warmth. Then she reaches between her chest and the clipboard and pulls out a small, folded piece of paper. She hands it over to me and smiles again. Then she turns around and walks back into the conference room.

I unfold the paper and stare at the words, not entirely sure if they're really there.

Alex,

It's Tuesday...

Ten o'clock?

Is this a joke? She wouldn't be that cruel would she? I guess the only way to find out is to go down there tonight and see for myself.

I've gotta hand it to Krycek. The little bastard has kind of a nice place here. All right, so he didn't build it or anything but still, he's running it pretty well. Certainly not the lap of luxury in terms of material things but I've felt more comfortable here the past few weeks than I ever did in that colony.

I've been eating decently and sleeping relatively well. The people here have been very friendly and nice to me. There's an indoor track for me to jog on which is what I'm stretching in preparation for right now. And best of all of course, Scully.

I think she's forgiving me. She's been warming up steadily since that first day, spending time with me and talking about what she's been doing all this time, what this group is really about. I still don't completely agree with their tactics but I'm starting to understand why she stays here. It's seeming more and more like the best of all the evil choices out there.

My biggest problem so far has been boredom really. With no work and no real focus I've been starting to go stir crazy here. Scully's visits are the brightest parts of my day but I don't see her as often as I'd like. But that's going to change now. Because of what we decided at the meeting today, I'm going to be seeing a lot more of her.

It was my idea. Scully's been telling me about her work, her search for a cure to the cancer threatening to return to her body and the bodies of many of the other women here. I was reminded of how it felt to watch her almost succumb to that illness so many years ago and why I'd agreed to the stupid deal in the first place. So that I'd never have to see that again. I'd do anything, anything at all to keep her from having to go through that. She asked me if I knew anything about the cure but all that I could tell her was that there is one. And that the conversion process leaves the converted immune.

So today when the question of what I am most qualified to do was raised, I suggested that maybe I would be most useful to everyone as a lab rat. Scully's lab rat. I'm the only person they've got who's undergone the conversion and the answer to the questions she is asking are contained in my body, in my blood. I'm certain of that.

Scully agreed and so did everyone else. Except Krycek. He thought I should do something more along the lines of hard labor. Probably wanted me to take out his trash or something. But after Scully pointed out that this might be the only hope she had he gave me a nasty look and acquiesced. It's become abundantly clear to me that he's got some very strong feelings for her although I've yet to figure out the exact nature of those feelings. Whatever they are, they forced his hand. Keeping her healthy was more important than his resentment towards me.

It surprised me to say the least. Not that he's grown to care for her after all this time. Who in their right mind could spend any time with Scully at all and not care? What shocks me is that he supposedly cares enough to put her interests ahead of his own. It shocks me and it makes me nervous because I can't help wondering what he's really planning. I just cannot buy this selfless act. Not from him.

Doesn't matter though. Scully and I can handle whatever bullshit he tries to pull. We're gonna be stronger than ever.

Well, I know we've still got a ways to go. She's still a little distant and closed to me. Christ, she hasn't even told me where she lives yet. I guess she's afraid of me showing up at her place at 2 am the way I used to, frantic and needing her help. Not this time, Scully. It's gonna be diffr the guardrail down to the indoor swimming pool. The water is glowing.

And then I see her.

She must have turned off all the lights except for the one in the pool. She's in a swimsuit. A black one with a zipper down the front. It looks about twenty years old. And so does she. I don't know how she's managed to keep such a youthful appearance with all the crap she's been through. But I swear, she looks younger than she ever has. And more beautiful.

She's walking around the edge of the pool and when she reaches the deep end she dives gracefully into the water. She starts doing laps, back and forth across the pool and I feel somewhat at a loss. Should I say something? Go down there? Or just stand up here in the shadows ogling her? She seems to be enjoying a private moment of peace and I don't want to disturb that but I also am starting to feel a bit creepy just watching her without announcing my presence. Of course, I could just leave.

Yeah, right.

It's not a fully conscious decision on my part but I do end up watching, spying I guess. My limbs just don't seem to want to carry me down there and my throat won't form the words to get her attention. She's just so stunning.

And then I see him.

I recognize him from the way he swaggers towards the water's edge, clad in black as usual. He looks completely out of place with his buckles and boots and ever-present attitude in this womb like atmosphere of serenity Scully has created. And he watches her. I watch him watching her. And I wait.

After about four more laps of double voyeurism Scully stops swimming and stands up in the shallow end, near the edge. She jumps a little when she sees Krycek hovering there like some kind of freaking psycho stalker and my heart starts beating a little quicker. What the hell is he doing anyway?

"How long have you been standing there?" she asks, running her fingers through her hair, breathing heavily.

"'Bout four laps."

"Why didn't you say something, Alex?"

"I didn't wanna disturb you," he says with a snotty, sarcastic affectation in his voice. It's a little difficult to judge her facial expressions from above but she looks completely puzzled by the comment or the tone. Maybe both.

Something very strange is happening here. Something that's starting to scare me. The way he's acting towards her...it's almost as if he has some kind of sick fixation with her or something.

"Disturb me? Alex, I asked you to come down here."

Her voice is soft and sweet.

Asked him to come here?

"Yeah. What for?"

Same question I was about to ask, Krycek. Work? Maybe she's got something she needs to discuss with him about the meeting today? She ducks her head and runs her fingers in a trail through the water's surface.

"What do you think, Alex?" she whispers but the acoustics in here cause her words to reverberate off the walls, echo in my ears. I should leave. This is something private, something that I have no right to be watching. It's not about work. Scully doesn't use that tone of voice to talk about work. In fact, I don't know when I've ever heard her use it. I should go. But I can't. I can't.

"I honestly have no idea, Dana."

"Alex..."

God, I still can't get used to hearing her call him that. Or him calling her Dana.

"Dana, I don't really know what you want from me anymore so you're going to have to be a little more direct if you don't want me to screw it up."

She snaps her head up and looks at him with a heart-breakingly sad expression. She looks so totally vulnerable, half naked and soaking wet, letting him stand there and say these things to her like that. I've never seen her so vulnerable.

Then she walks over to the steps leading into the pool and sits down on the first one, leaving half of her body out of the water.

"All right. What's wrong?" she asks and he snorts.

"Where would you like me to start?"

"Anywhere. I just want to know what's on your mind. I just...I just want to get things out in the open and get through them."

Goddammit, Krycek. What ever your stupid problem is, get over it. Can't you see how upset she is?

"Okay, fine. Have you told Mulder yet?"

Told Mulder yet? She ducks her head and sighs and I get the impression that she hasn't told me. She hasn't told me a lot I'm starting to think.

"Not...not yet. I..."

"That's one."

"I haven't had the...the time. I will, Alex. I will."

"You said that to me two weeks ago, Dana. And I said fine. But it's getting ridiculous. It's not fair to either of us."

She clutches her knees to her chest and shivers, almost her entire body in the open air now. My stomach drops and I'm starting to feel very sick. Oh, Scully. What are you doing?

"I...I know. I will tell him. Tomorrow. I promise."

Too late, Scully. Too fucking late.

"All right then, you mentioned time before. You haven't had 'time' to tell him. Well, what have you been doing with all your time, Dana? Cause you sure as hell haven't been spending it with me."

She's fucking him. Oh God. She's fucking him. How could I not have realized? How could it have possibly taken me so long to pick up the clues?

"I've been working, Alex. Taking care of sick kids and spending nights at the lab. Trying to find a cure for cancer. Not to mention the resistance liaison committee which you put me in charge of. And for God's sake, Alex, you're not home any more often than I am."

Home? As in her home and his home? Together? No, that can't possibly be. She would have told me if they were living together.

Fuck.

"Maybe so. But, Dana, when we actually are home together..."

Together. Home together. Jesus Christ, Scully. Jesus Christ.

"Well, when we are together nowadays those three little words from last night seem to be the rule of law."

"Three little words? Alex...what..."

"Don't. Touch. Me," he spits out viscously, his arms crossed over his chest.

Okay, so, they've been fucking. She hasn't told me and that sucks but maybe...maybe she's trying to end it. Maybe that's why he's so angry. Maybe she hasn't bothered to tell me because it's not a big thing and she wants to just break it off so that we can be together. Maybe...

"Oh, Alex," she sighs and stands up, getting out of the pool completely and walking up close to him.

"And even though you only actually said it once, you've been radiating that attitude for two weeks. So you've gotta understand if I'm a little confused about what you could possibly want from me now."

"Alex, I'm...I'm sorry I said that. And I'm sorry that we haven't been taking enough time. I was very angry and confused last night and I felt like...I don't know, I just felt like you were hiding something from me."

He kneels down and picks up one of the towels she brought with her and wraps it around her shoulders. Seeing him touch her makes me want to vomit.

"Alex, I just couldn't understand why you'd do something so foolish. And do it alone. I mean, I can see why you'd want to be the one to do it but, why didn't you ask me to help you? I would have helped. I felt like you were purposely trying to shut me out."

"I just...I didn't feel comfortable asking you for help, Dana."

"But why? Because you had a past with her?"

She's moving closer. She's so close to him. I don't think she's trying to break up with him anymore.

"No, Dana, it's got nothing to do with her. It's...it's us. It's you and me. I feel...I don't feel..."

He runs his hand through his hair and looks down at the ground. Sad. He looks sad. Or as close to that as I've ever seen him. Maybe he'll break up with her. Maybe...

"Alex?"

"God, Dana. You've just been so closed off to me lately. I feel like I can't even talk to you anymore."

"Oh, but Alex, you can. I want you to."

She touches his arm and then moves down to grasp his hand in hers. Why am I still here? God, I really think I'm going to throw up. How can this be happening? I keep waiting for it to end but it doesn't.

"I miss you, Alex. I miss talking to you and I miss...everything."

"God, devotchka, I miss you too," he croaks out.

De what? God, I don't even wanna know.

"Alex, let's...let's just be together tonight. Let's just forget about the past two weeks and start over."

I don't understand this. This can't be Scully. Maybe she's a clone. Maybe he's drugging her. Maybe...

Oh God, he's kissing her. He's got his hand on the back of her head and his tongue down her throat and they're both moaning and clutching at each other and I can't watch but I can't look away either. The stupid, revolting kiss seems to go on forever and every noise they make, every sigh and every slurp and the sound of her wet bathing suit sloshing against his leather jacket, it all echoes through the room and through my head. It's the loudest fucking thing I've ever heard.

God, Scully, how could you? How could you do this to me? To us? We were so close to this. This should be me kissing you. Me.

She finally breaks away from him and starts walking backwards towards the edge of the pool, tugging on his hand.

"Come into the water with me, Alex."

She lets go of his hand and goes back into the shallow end. Then she starts unzipping her suit.

I need to go. God, please just make me go. I can't stand here and watch her strip for him.

"Dana..."

"Aren't you coming?"

"Dana, are...are you sure? Because if not I..I mean I really can't take this anymore," he sputters out, breathless. Yeah, poor guy. Two weeks is a real fucking long time. Fucking asshole.

"I'm sure, Alex. I'm so sure, it hurts," she croons in a voice I once thought only porn stars and phone sex operators actually used. Then she crosses her arms over her chest and pulls down the straps of her suit.

I try to look away but....

God, she's so fucking beautiful. I can't stand it. I can't. How is this happening? How can this be fair?

"Careful, it's very....very wet," she says, tossing her discarded bathing suit out of the pool and onto his boots. I look over at him for the first time in a long time. He's got his jacket off already and he's working on his shirt. He's moving so fast and frantically he looks like he's about to fall down.

She's laughing as she watches his desperate struggle to get naked in a hurry.

"Take your time, zhivotnoye," she giggles. Zhivotnoye. Sounds like Russian. I want to know what it means. I wonder if it means bastard. I wonder if it means back-stabbing, lying, murdering, sneaky motherfucker.

"You laughing at me, woman? You have any idea what it's like having blue balls for two weeks?"

"No, I don't, Alex. Why don't you tell me. Tell me how much you want it. Tell me how you need it," she murmurs in that...that voice again. She flips onto her back so that she's floating in the water. So that her breasts are peeking out, looking right up into the darkness where I'm standing. I feel my cock stiffening in response despite what's going on in my mind, in what's left of my heart.

I can't look at her anymore but when I look at him I feel even sicker. He's naked now and hard as I am for her. And looking at her like a fucking animal about to devour its prey.

She's really gonna let him fuck her.

Maybe it's a good-bye fuck. Maybe it's just one last time before she dumps him on his ass and comes back to me. Maybe...

Part Six

God, has it only been two weeks? It feels like forever.

Forever since I've seen him like this. Naked, oh I have seen him naked many times. It's hard not to when you're living in a dorm room with someone. But naked and flushed and aroused and smiling...finally smiling, that's something else entirely. Something I have missed more than I even realized.

"Alex..."

I can barely even talk. I'm actually choked up.

"God, devotchka, I've been going crazy wanting you. I haven't been able to think about anything else."

He sits down on the steps and gestures for me to join him. When I swim over there he grabs me and pulls me onto his lap. I am expecting to be thoroughly ravished but he just holds me there against his chest, cradling me between his thighs.

"I miss you," he whispers into my wet hair and I wrap my arms around his neck.

"I miss you too, Alex."

God, I miss him so much. It feels so amazingly good to be close to him like this. I can't believe I've been denying myself, denying him for so long.

I turn into him for a kiss and feeling his tongue softly filling my mouth sends a tremor through me like nothing else has ever been able to do. How could I have told him not to touch me? No matter how angry I was, it was a horrible and idiotic thing to say. I couldn't bear it if he never touched me again.

"Mmmsorry, Alex," I whisper into his ear and he pulls me closer. "I'm so sorry I said...what I said. I shouldn't have."

"S'okay. It's been hard for you lately."

"Well, either way, I just shouldn't have said it. Period."

I don't think I realized how it would effect him. Didn't realize that he would take it to heart. Stupid, stupid thing to do.

"S'okay. Just...just don't say it again, okay?"

God, he sounds just like a little boy. It still astounds me sometimes how vulnerable he allows himself to become with me. It makes my heart twist into many strange shapes.

"Never," I promise him with another kiss. "Never ever."

I want him so much. I can't stand it. I just want him.

"Now, let's start over, Alex."

I turn around in his lap and climb on top of him, straddling him, reveling in the feel of his cock pressing up against me under the water. I lean in and start biting and licking the side of his neck and find myself rocking against him almost unconsciously. I think I'm ready to just take him inside right now.

But he pulls back from me. He doesn't seem as desperate as I am. Maybe he's still afraid because of the way I've been pushing him away.

"MmmDana..."

"Hmm?"

I take his hand in mine and run it wantonly up and down my body, trying to encourage him, show him how badly I want his touch.

"What do you need, Alex?" I ask, dragging his fingers back up to my mouth and taking his forefinger between my lips. I suck on him greedily, thrilling in the way he stares at my display, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

"I...uh...."

He swallows and closes his eyes. Whatever it is it must be good. I've never seen him look so embarrassed to ask for something like this.

"I just...can I just hold you for a minute?"

"Hold...um...sssure. Yeah. Okay."

I'm thrown for a minute but try really hard not to let my disappointment show. It is really sweet and I love being held by him. It's just, well, I suppose I'm feeling a bit impatient for the main event here.

I take a deep breath and un-straddle myself. I sit on his lap with my legs closed this time and he pulls me against his chest.

"Is this okay?" he asks, squeezing me tighter and tighter.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's nice."

It is nice but he's starting to crush me. I try to relax and listen to his heart beating against my ear. It's beating so fast though. And I'm starting to have trouble breathing.

I let him clutch me in his deathgrip for a couple of minutes, afraid to tell him that I'm going to start choking soon and actually enjoying the closeness despite all of that. But before too long I start to feel my chest constrict and begin worrying about physical harm. Death by Alex hug.

I clear my throat and cough a bit but he doesn't seem to notice. He's still squeezing the life out of me, breathing heavily into the top of my head.

"Um, Alex..."

"Huh? Oh. Oh God, I'm sorry," he stammers, loosening his arm significantly. "Didn't mean to asphyxiate you there."

"S'okay," I sigh, snuggling up into him. We sit in silence for awhile, hanging onto each other and just enjoying the way it feels and I'm so grateful to be with someone so wonderful. This was a very good idea.

"God, Dana, I feel so weird. This is all just so weird."

I have to laugh at that. There's nothing about this life we're living that *isn't* weird.

"I mean this whole past year has been weird to begin with for me," he continues and I realize suddenly that yesterday was our anniversary. A year ago yesterday we made love for the first time. I can't believe we spent it in such a horrible way. Thank God we're making up for it now.

"I mean I...I never expected this to happen to me, Dana."

"Well, I never would have expected it either. But I'm glad it happened. So glad."

I start kissing his neck again, unable to help myself, and try to focus on that particular part of his body to restrain myself from reaching down and grabbing his dick.

"I just don't know what to do with myself sometimes," he goes on, seemingly oblivious to my ministrations. "I guess sometimes I feel like if I squeeze you hard enough, I won't lose you."

I stop what I'm doing and pull back to look him in the eye.

"Alex, I don't want to lose you either. Don't you believe that?"

He doesn't answer me which is pretty terrifying to me. Have I been that reserved? That distant? Or is it that he's much more insecure than I ever would have dreamed?

"I just hope you never feel like you *have* to stay with me," he says quietly, almost as if he doesn't want me to hear him. I don't know why he would think that I'd ever feel obliged to be his lover. Because he saved my life? Because I owe him? I can't believe that he would even consider that.

Or is it something even worse? Something he'd never say. Does he think I'm afraid of him? That I'd fear for my life if I left him?

I turn towards him and take his face in my hands, smooshing his cheeks together with my palms.

"Alex, we're in this together. Okay?"

He shrugs and I almost laugh out loud at what a pathetic picture he makes with his squished, frowning face.

"And that's what you want?" he asks through his fish-shaped lips and this time I do laugh.

"Yes! Alex, yes. I want this. I want you."

I punctuate the statement with another kiss but when I pull back he's still got a skeptical look on his face.

"Look Alex, I'll tell you what. If I get miserable you can kick me out okay? That way it's on your shoulders."

"Well, that's a pretty big responsibility. How will I know?"

"You don't think you know me well enough to tell when I'm miserable?"

"I dunno, Dana. You've seemed pretty miserable to me for the past two weeks."

"Not with you, Alex."

"But..."

"Alex. Listen to me. I don't want to go. I don't want to go ever."

He opens his mouth to voice another protest but I cut him off with a kiss. Mostly because I want to kiss him but partially because I want him to stop talking now. I just want to forget about all of this and go back to the way we were. Just for one night.

"This is just weird for me, Dana," he says again when we break apart. "I've never been in...."

He stops himself from finishing that thought and it makes me unspeakably sad. He's starting to feel like he can't say it anymore. Probably because of my underwhelming response. Sometimes I don't know what's wrong with me. Why does this all have to be so confusing?

"I've never felt like this before. And I don't really know how it's supposed to be. How I'm supposed to act..."

"You've been doing just fine, Alex," I whisper into his ear and he shivers a little. Whether it's a response to the seductive tone I'm attempting to affect or the fact that half his chest is out of the water I'm not sure.

"God, Dana. I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Nothing's wrong with you."

I run my hands over his smooth, hard chest and down around his thick, muscular thighs. Nope, nothing wrong here.

"You're perfect, Alex. Perfect."

He smiles for the first time in a long time, appeased by my honest but utterly shameless flattery. Well, it worked didn't it?

"That's what I keep saying," he tells me with a grin. "But nobody believes me except you."

"Hmmm, mysterious. Maybe you are brainwashing me."

"Maybe. Guess there's no way to tell huh?"

"Well, they say ignorance is bliss..."

"And are you blissful?"

"I don't know. I'm too ignorant to figure that out."

I wiggle out of his embrace and swim away from him, feeling suddenly playful. He looks after me with a pout.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Swimming. Isn't that what people are supposed to do in pools?"

He looks down and skims his fingers over the surface with a very phony and very silly frown.

"Well, there are other things to do in pools, you know. My Dana voodoo doll would know what to do."

"Your what??"

"Yeah, she's a little clothespin with red hair drawn on in crayon."

I have to stop swimming around because now I'm really laughing and I might drown.

"Well, sometimes brainwashing just isn't enough. Sometimes a guy needs a little extra help. So whenever I get horny I just put her next to my dick and you miraculously appear."

"Alex, you're supposed to leave the toys for the kiddies," I tell him between giggles.

"Yeah, well she hasn't been working lately anyway. I think the magic's worn off."

"Or maybe you're just a nutcase."

"That's always a possibility I suppose."

We both laugh and it feels so good. So so good to be like this. I think it's been just as long since I've laughed like this as it's been since we had sex. I didn't realize how badly I needed it.

I don't think I recognized the value of silliness until Alex and I got together. I'm pretty sure he didn't either.

I look over at him still sitting on the steps, half in the water, half out, and I wonder if it's possible that he's *still* nervous about really touching me.

"What's the matter little boy? Why're you still sitting on the steps? You scared of the water?"

"Nope. I'm scared of what's in the water," he says and lunges at me unexpectedly. He grabs me around the waist and lifts me up and I shriek like a thirteen year old girl. He spins me around and I wrap my arms around his neck to keep from flying away.

"You know there's a monster in here," he growls into my ear. "A horny pool beastie."

"I don't believe in mon...monsters!" I attempt to pronounce through my giggles. "And if I did I wouldn't be afraid like you, ya big baby."

"Oh, that's a mistake, Dana. The pool beastie is very dangerous. He takes pretty little girls like you and does this..."

He shoves me against the wall and starts playfully gnawing on my neck. It tickles and it's warm and I can't stop laughing and squirming and fruitlessly trying to push him away so that I can catch my breath.

He finally stops but I barely notice because I'm still giddy and practically hyperventilating. I hear him say something but I can't quite tell what it is.

"Hmmwha...what?" I ask, trying to catch my breath. He's staring at me very seriously all of a sudden.

"I said you're beautiful," he whispers roughly. "The most beautiful thing in the world."

Before I can respond to that statement beyond gaping at him he's kissing me again, so softly and so sweetly it almost breaks me. I tangle my fingers in his hair and pull his head closer and our mouths open, tongues touching lightly. I can't stifle the groan that comes from somewhere in my chest and travels out of my mouth and into his. He always knows just what to say to turn my insides out.

Could I say it now, I wonder as we kiss and kiss and kiss. Could I?

We break apart finally and I lean back and catch sight of the stars above us. I'm hit with a rush of memories and feelings starting with the first time we came down here and continuing over the years we've spent together, as friends and most recently, lovers, over all the Tuesdays we've spent here talking and making love and just having fun. I could say it. Maybe...

"Alex, do you ever think about that first night when we came here?"

"Sometimes, yeah."

I take his face in my hands and point it upwards and he smiles.

"They look better," he says. "Not as good as you though."

"Mmm...right."

"No, I'm serious. That's all I could think that night, you know. You kept telling me to look at the stars and all I wanted to look at was you."

He drops his head and looks into my eyes and I melt yet again.

"Even then?"

"Of course. How could I not?"

"God, Alex, I was such a wreck back then."

"Still beautiful. Always," he whispers, leaning in for another kiss. This kiss is hungrier, more passionate and sloppy than before. His tongue thrusts in and out of my mouth in an imitation of what I'm now about ready to die for and I clutch at him needily.

"So, where's this pool beastie?" I ask as he nips at my chin and neck.

"Hmmm?"

"Pool beastie? Horny monster? I keep waiting for him to come and attack me but here I sit, getting kisses from boring old Alex."

He smiles, seeming to have regained his sense of humor as well as his confidence, thank God.

"Ah, I see how it is. Well, you've gotta do something to summon the monster, Dana. He doesn't just appear out of the blue."

"Oh, I see. What should I do?"

"Well, he might like it if you kiss my neck like you were doing before. I think I heard him stirring around when you were doing that."

"Is that so? He likes when I kiss *your* neck?"

He nods quickly with that, "you know you wanna" grin and I find myself giggling again.

"He's kind of a voyeur."

"All right, well, I suppose it can't hurt to try..."

I rake my teeth over the skin on the side of his neck in an attempt to be seductive and he moans in response. I can't carry on that way for very long though. I'm laughing too hard.

"Ya know, I don't think you're taking the beastie very seriously," he tells me through his own chuckles.

"Oh, I didn't realize he was a serious beast."

"He's very serious."

I try to swallow down my laugher but find that I can't. It's an amazing feeling, not being able to stop laughing.

"This is very bad. You know what he does to little girls who laugh at him?"

I shake my head, anxious to find out the answer.

"He does....this!"

He reaches down and starts tickling my stomach mercilessly. I try to get away but end up backing against the wall and trapping myself against him.

I end up laughing so hard that I'm crying. Shrieking and squealing and wriggling.

"Stop!! Alex, I ca...I can't breathe!"

He stops tickling but I'm still pressed between his body and the side of the pool. Not that I'm complaining.

"Are you going to take the beastie seriously from now on?" he asks, his fingers dangerously close to my abdomen.

"Yes," I say but can't help snorting afterwards.

"You know what else he likes that might counteract the effects of your mockery?"

"What's that?"

"If you like, lift your legs up and wrap them around my waist."

"Oh, he likes that, huh?"

Interesting. I must test this theory. I wrap my arms around his neck and lift myself up, naturally buoyant because of the water, and tangle myself around him. Oh yeah. That definitely works for me at least. Alex makes a sound somewhere between a moan and a laugh and presses himself against me. He's hard again. Or still. Not sure if he has been this entire time or not. I was too distracted by his goofing around.

"So, this beastie as you refer to him, is he completely aquatic?"

"Completely? No, I don't think so," he says, rotating his hips tantalizingly. "I've seen him a few other places around here."

"Well, I guess what I want to know is, how long do you think he could hold his breath under water?"

He smiles and thrusts more deliberately against me with another laugh/grunt.

"I see how it is," he whispers wickedly, his lips close enough for kissing. "Unfortunately I think he breathes air primarily. Maybe if you got him some diving gear."

"Diving gear?!"

"Yeah, I know. He's not a very effective monster."

"Well..." I pause to press my mouth against his briefly but as soon as I make the contact his lips part and our tongues meet in a frantic, wet tangle.

"Mmmwell," I continue as his kisses move across my face and over to my ear. He starts sucking on my earlobe and licking around the whorls and I lose my train of thought again.

"It sounds....ughmmm....it sounds like he's not really ...oh...a monster at all."

The tongue bath stops abruptly and he gives me a look of mock incredulity.

"Are you questioning the beastie's existence?"

"Perhaps."

"Well, that's the worst kind of offense. You know what the monster does when you question him?"

"Nope."

"He lifts you out of the water like this."

Sure enough, he lifts me up and tosses me onto the ledge of the pool. It's freezing and the ground is hard and uncomfortable and I shriek in disapproval. I know where this is going though and I'm not about to get back into the pool and miss out.

"And then he comes around and starts biting your thighs," he tells me and begins doing just that.

"Well, so much for counting on you as a...mmmmprotector."

"Oh, I'm helpless against the horny beast," he murmurs against my leg. I start to forget about the discomfort in the rest of my body very quickly when I feel his teeth and lips brushing against the insides of my thighs, higher and higher...

"Now do you believe in the beast?"

"Hmmwhaa..."

"Or am I gonna have to continue this demonstration?"

Oh God. Please continue.

"There is no monster. Just the lunatic I share a bed with."

"Well, now the monster's really pissed. He doesn't like when you call me names. I think it's time for a lesson in monster manners."

"Monster what?!"

"Yes, you've got to learn to be polite to the monster. To respect and worship him."

"Worship?"

"Yes, he won't settle for less. Otherwise he might do this..."

"I think that's a bit muuhhhh, oh God..."

Oh God. Oh my God. He's there, finally. My legs snap open as far as they could possibly go immediately, reflexively, when I feel his tongue working slow, delirium-inducing circles around my clit. Words cannot do justice to how good this feels.

I lean back on my elbows, preparing myself for the orgasm I am on the verge of already and then suddenly, he's gone again.

"And then he'd just stop randomly and then you'd be really sorry," he says with the most insufferable grin I've ever seen.

Oh, Alex. You little bastard.

"Ss...so what?" I pant in a pathetic attempt to appear unaffected.

"So what? Well okay then. If you want to keep disrespecting the monster you'll have to pay the price."

He looks up at me, waiting for my surrender. I sit up and take his head in my hands. I consider shoving it back between my legs but think better of it. Not ready to give in just yet. So I dunk him instead. He comes back up spitting and shaking his head like a wet dog.

"Now you're *really* in trouble, woman."

He gives a little growl and starts at it again, a little slower this time. He laps gently at me everywhere but *the* spot and my whole body turns to jello and my hips jerk and twitch against him. Too good. God, it's too too good. I can't believe how long it's been since I've felt this. I feel like I'm gorging after a two week hunger fest.

When he starts thrusting his tongue slowly in and out of me I'm reduced to whimpering.

"Oh Gahh....Don' sstop," I beg, shamelessly and of course, he does.

I try to stare him down and he grins at me like the big jerk that he is.

"So you see, it might be for the best if you just appease him."

"You think you're just the most adorable thing in the world don't you?"

He chuckles from deep in his throat and licks his lips. God, those lips. I find myself just staring at them, willing them back between my legs.

"That's what the monster tells me. He likes me. Because I worship him."

"Well then, I guess you two don't really need me if you've got each other."

"Oh but Dana, we've been so lonely without you."

"You sure? Cause I could just take care of things on my own..."

His eyes light up and sparkle with dewy excitement and he nods slowly in approval.

"I think the monster would like that a lot."

I run my hand through my hair and slowly down to my chest. Taking my breast in my hand and rubbing the hardened nipple between two fingers feels startlingly good and I moan with absolute abandon. I watch him watching me and it feels even better.

"Does this monster of yours like this?" I ask him, making something of a show out of myself.

"Mmmyeah, he's real happy. Do it more."

I run my hand down my torso and start brazenly masturbating right in Alex's face. His gasping and panting are almost as loud as mine as he watches.

Sometimes I can't even believe the way he makes me act. I'm usually very quiet when I do this. Leftover pubescent guilt or something. But now I'm mewling like a porn star. Because he likes it. Because I like that he likes it. Because turning him on turns *me* on more than anything in the world.

After a little bit I start to feel that familiar tingle and I know that if I keep doing this, I'm gonna end up making myself come. I'm not gonna be able to help myself.

"Oh, Aleeex," I whimper and he grabs my hand and pulls it away. He takes the two fingers I was using in his mouth and sucks on them. His eyes flutter shut and he moans, devouring my taste. It's unbearable.

"God, Alex, please..."

Without another word he grabs my hips, pulls me forward and finishes me off with his tongue. My orgasm is so powerful and so fast. It feels like falling out of a window. It feels like dying. I think I finally understand what the hell that means.

When it's over I slide back into the pool and into his embrace. He holds my shaking, spent body for a long time.

"Good?" he whispers into my ear.

"I saw stars."

"Hey, whaddya' know, me too."

We both smile and I feel him pressing against me again. God, I want him inside me. I want him in me right now.

And lucky for me, he wants that too.

I lift my legs and wrap them around his waist and he needs no further encouragement.

"Bozhe Moy," he grunts as he pushes into me. I'm pretty sure that means "My God". This translation thing is all about context.

It's been so long that it actually hurts me a little bit but more than that it fills me with a sweet, tingling thrill that I can't begin to describe.

He starts out slowly, trying to draw it out, but I have no patience left. I urge him on by digging my heels into the small of his back, pulling him deeper.

"More," I whisper into his ear and it seems to be all he needs to hear. He starts fucking me, fast and hard, slamming me against the wall, and I throw my head back and moan.

No matter how we start it always ends like this. We can be tender and loving, we can be silly and carefree, we can be passionate and intense. But when we get to this point we can't seem to stop ourselves from going at it like dogs in heat. There's a place we bring each other to, a desperate, crazy place, and we never fail to get there together.

"Feels so good...you feel so good," he croons and I grab a hunk of his damp, mussy hair and pull his face to mine. His tongue darts around inside my mouth and then slides down my throat and I love it. I really do. I feel like he's everywhere.

I remember a conversation, a long long time ago, when Roseanne told me what it was like to have sex with Alex Krycek. She said that the whole world seems to disappear. That the only thing that exists is you and him fucking. That it's like being swept up into a tornado. Her words, not mine. I remember thinking how silly it sounded and yet finding myself unavoidably intrigued. I think I know what she was talking about now. I like to believe that what I've experienced with him, what I am experiencing right now, is what Roseanne described times twenty. Times one hundred thousand. I think that it is. Because he didn't love Roseanne.

He loves me. Me.

And everything else disappears. I look up at the stars in the sky but they don't register anymore. All I see and hear and feel and taste is Alex. The smell of his sweat, the scrape of his teeth and tickle of his tongue against the skin on my neck, the quivering of the muscles in his arm as he holds me up against him, the smooth heat of his chest, his heart beating against my breast, his throat, Adam's apple bobbing as he sucks in sharp, heaving breaths, his sex, pulsing, thrusting inside of me. This is what I feel, what I am.

I don't feel the cold that I know must be hitting the wet, exposed, upper part of my torso. I don't feel the grinding of the skin on my back against the cement of the pool side.

I feel...oh, I feel...

I feel my hands resting on his shoulders and I feel the early tremors of an outstandingly long and delicious orgasm wracking my body. I dig my nails into his flesh, drawing blood, marking him. Mine. He is mine.

His teeth are clamped tight on the side of my neck and when he slides his hand down my back to clutch my ass, he growls and shakes his head like a puppy chewing rawhide. It should hurt but it doesn't. It pushes me on even further. And then I feel his fingers moving down, exploring. He reaches the place where we're joined and feeling him touch me there is enough to end things for me.

"Oh God, Alex, oh MY GOD," I cry out and he pounds into me like a lunatic. I come twice and sometime in between I feel him expanding and exploding inside me. His orgasmic scream reverberates in the room and it's just about the loudest thing I've ever heard in my life.

As he's coming down he holds me against him and, continuing to jerk into me, whispers, "love you, love you, love you." It makes my chest constrict in that now familiar combination of panic and joy and delirium. I think this is the first time anyone has ever said that to me and meant it in this kind of situation.

I cover his face and his neck and those beautiful eyelashes with kisses and sag against him.

"Thank you, Alex," I murmur into his ear and he squeezes me tighter. We stay like that for a few minutes in silence and then I hear a noise. A small, thumping sound. Almost like someone's here. I lift my head and look around nervously and so does Alex.

"What's that?" I ask.

"I think it's the pool monster," he tells me with a grin. I think I'm too tired and spent to care. I think I'm dazed enough to believe him.

"Let's go home, Alex."

Part Seven

I think that I used to take a drug called valium. It made me feel calm which is something I needed at the time. It also had a tendency to garble things in my mind. I would take a memory and it would float in my consciousness for a bit and then I'd try to put it back but it would disappear, or reappear but in the wrong place. I think that's how it felt anyway. It's so hard to remember.

Anyway, it's the closest thing I can find to relate to the way I've felt for the past two days. Valium minus tranquillity. And with extra doses of confusion. I think.

There are pieces in my head, and like the jagged bits of a jigsaw puzzle, they are starting to organize themselves and transform into a whole picture. But the process is slow. And painful. Every few hours I regain a painful moment from the life I had, the life that is me. Was me. Things are so different now.

Where do I fit in this new world? No one has told me. Not here. I don't fit here. It hasn't taken long for me to figure out that much. I remember enough of the time before to know that Marita Covarrubias should not be sleeping on a lumpy dorm mattress and wearing someone else's clothes. Eating tasteless mush for breakfast in a loud, ugly, crowded cafeteria. Alone because the only people I know are the doctor who started giving me some kind of primitive, slave reconditioning therapy yesterday and Alex. Alex. Alex sent the doctor. And that woman who said her name was Dana. I think I used to know her face. He sent them and that's why I don't trust them. I don't trust anyone here. They're all working for him.

But what else is there? I don't know.

I don't know who's fault it is that I'm stuck here. Faces creep up on me, new ones every hour. Enemies. So many enemies. Alex...

And then I see him, standing on line to receive his crappy breakfast. Fox Mulder. Fox Mulder is here too. Fox Mulder brought me here. I think.

I see us in a car, I hear him talking to me about going somewhere, but I don't know if we were coming here or going somewhere else. It makes the back of my eyes burn to try and fit the memory into the rough timeline I have established.

No matter. I know Fox Mulder. I trust him. I think. I did. Maybe.

He walks past the table I'm sitting at and I try to make eye contact with him. It doesn't work. He doesn't see me. Maybe it's not Fox Mulder. Or maybe it is and he never knew me at all. Maybe I imagined the whole thing.

God, I want to go home. Wherever that is. It's not here. Somewhere else.

The man who may or may not be named Fox Mulder sits down at the table behind me, his back to mine, and I hear him sigh. I have to talk to him. I don't know what else to do.

I stand up and take my tray over to his table. I sit down across from him but he doesn't look up. He's pushing around the gray, lumpy pile that I think is oatmeal on his plate. I clear