Dominion Over My Soul R3 P4 Ursula

Mulder shivered as he stood looking at the glass and steel building. It was ordinary, no Frankenstein's castle, no ruinous heap with a lighted Grail atop...he held back a nervous laugh. No scantly clad maidens begging for punishment and ...and then the oral sex.

The small sign stated that the building housed Fargo Phlebotomology Laboratories Incorporated. A vaguely caduceus like design etched across the mock marble front of the building. Blank black windows rose from the ground to the top of the thirteen- story building. Mulder fingered the key card and took a deep breath. The owner of the key card currently resided in the trunk of his Volvo. Mulder had moved the car to an airport parking lot and paid for three days. He had no intention of leaving the man there that long. Of course not. Mulder wouldn't even do that to Krycek. No matter what he had said at that airport before they went to Tunguska. However, he had chosen the quiet section of the parking area because he didn't want anyone discovering and freeing the man too soon.

Mulder walked to the elevator and slid the key card into the slot at the entrance. The door clicked its welcome and he walked inside. The elevator rose smoothly and swiftly. Mulder had tensed for alarms, but he heard none.

The lobby was cool, brightly lit even at this hour. The air had no scent, not even that of cleaning supplies. The walls were all neutral shades. There were no shadows anywhere. Pastel paintings hung at precise intervals. This machine cast world would have been one of Mulder's views of hells. How could a place so mundane house the mysteries that he sought?

Mulder shook out of his momentary distraction. He believed his answers were somewhere no matter how often he had been sent on wild goose chases like this. Mulder didn't know where to start. He looked at the directory and it was useless. Finally he randomly opened doors. He was not sure what he was looking for. An alien fetus, a preserved bug eyed corpse?

Mulder frowned, trying to force the information from the impressions left in his brain by his alien rider. Nothing more detailed emerged. He just knew that there was something important here and that the Oilien wanted to destroy what ever it was.

Mulder continued to search. He saw machines, computers, brightly lit labs that hinted of nothing out of the ordinary for a medical research facility. He stood still, forcing himself to face the chaotic impressions left in his mind. He found a fragmentary image of a metal capsule. It was the type of container used to store biohazards. That was what he was looking for!

Mulder went lower on instinct. Perhaps the subbasement housed what he needed... an experiment, a secret that he would finally succeed in keeping. He smiled to himself. The Oilien had been so confident that no human could cope with its thoughts that it hadn't even tried to conceal them.

Mulder considered that the Oilien had chosen the wrong vehicle. First of all, his brain was different. The memories had been stored as visual images and Mulder could never forget anything that he saw. Mulder remembered struggling with Krycek in his own car. He had been aware of a horrid cold, blackness to Krycek's usually heated gaze. An inhumanely strong grip had pressed his mouth to Krycek's until something cold and foul, living oil undulated, filled him, took his body and held him captive.

Mulder couldn't sort it all out immediately, but he could remember what happened. He had nearly collapsed when the memories poured back into his head. He still couldn't think about it for long periods of time, but he knew that fragments of information were buried amidst the skewed sensory memories and the terror. Mulder remembered this place and knew there was something that the Oilien feared here. His own quest palled before this information. Mulder knew that he acted like a jerk sometimes, maybe most of the time. He didn't care what people thought of him, but he did care what happened to them. His mission here was to save them.

Mulder's thoughts were jerked back to the present as he pulled open another door. What the hell? It was Scully's autopsy room at the academy. He recognized all the details. Scully's coffee mug stood by a stainless steel sink. Scully's library gleamed behind glass doors of a glossy cherry wood bookshelf. The meteorite chunk he had given her as paperweight sat on a neat desk. Scully in person emerged from the small lavatory off the lab. She was gowned and capped.

Mulder felt faint. He asked, "Scully, how did you get here?"

He could see the mask crease as she smiled. She snapped on rubber gloves and said, "You're just in time. I thought I would have to start without you."

What?

Scully opened drawers and came up with paper gown, cap, and gloves. "Put these on." She ordered.

Mulder obeyed out of habit. He seemed to have fallen down a rabbit hole again. He decided to go along with it. See what trick was being played upon him now. Mulder had abandoned one wild goose chase for another. He knew he was being made a plaything by the consortium or the aliens, perhaps by both.

Scully approached the white covered table and drew the sheet aside. Mulder exclaimed, "Scully!"

Alex Krycek lay strapped to the autopsy table, but he certainly wasn't dead. Traces of tears marked the face. He didn't look dark and dangerous like this. He looked like a scared kid. Scully smiled again and uncovered a tray of instruments. She held out a scalpel and said, "Here, Mulder, this is for you. You make the first cut." Her rubber clad hand stroked from Krycek's throat down to the tight black whorls of his pubic hair. "You've seen me do it a hundred times. You'll be just fine. You deserve this, Mulder, for everything he has done to you."

Mulder walked closer. Krycek's eyes pleaded with him, but he didn't say anything. Mulder asked, "Scully, how did you get him to shut up? He never shuts up no matter how hard I hit him."

"Curare." Scully said, "I just hate a lot of screaming and writhing when I do an autopsy."

Mulder felt a wave of illness. He shook his head. "Scully, he's not dead."

Scully's eyes crinkled above the mask. She answered, "He will be when we're done. I wonder how long it will take? And, Mulder, don't worry. He'll feel every cut. He just can't move. Don't you see, Mulder? This is our prize. After everything this man has done to us, we get our chance to take it all back."

Mulder closed his eyes. He remembered what it felt like to lose Scully. He remembered his horror as he realized his misplaced trust in Krycek might have contributed to the abduction. If he hadn't taken Krycek along to Skyland Mountain...

Mulder accepted the scalpel. It was light. Even through the gloves, he thought he could feel how smooth and cold the metal was. Mulder stepped closer to the table. It was just a dream, he decided. Just one of his fantasies about Krycek. It would be okay to play it out. He readied the instrument, taking a deep breath as he studied the nearly hairless torso. As he marked the distance, remembering how Scully did this, his eyes met Krycek's. Damn, he needed to close those eyes. This was impossible. He couldn't do it with the eyes staring at him, tears steadily flowing down the slopes of Alex's face. He reached to close the eyes, holding the lids down. He could feel the eyelashes flutter beneath his hands. A small noise came from the dry lips. Almost a word. His name. Fucking Krycek was trying to say his name. Mulder leaned close, brought his ear closer to the pink lips.

"Mulder, sorry. Forgive." Krycek whispered.

Mulder stood away. Forgive? What did that mean? Was Krycek begging for Mulder to forgive him or was he trying to say that he would forgive Mulder for what he was doing?

Mulder stared at Krycek, realizing now what didn't fit. The arm that he knew Krycek lost in Tunguska was back. He could see the scars faintly marking where Krycek's arm had been severed, but the arm below that looked healthy and normal. Mulder explored the juncture where the old flesh and new met. Krycek had suffered too. Mulder had the images burned in his brain; Krycek's memories were mixed with the alien's. Dark. Cold. Alone. Then rough hands, almost smothering beneath the weight of the men who pinned him to the cold ground. No merciful unconscious until it was done and months of pain afterwards.

Mulder shook his head. He said, "It's wrong, Scully."

Scully laughed at him. "Mulder, what a wimp. No wonder we never screwed. You're a ball-less wonder."

Mulder fought away the rage. Then he realized. It wasn't Scully. He looked down at Krycek. He should just walk away. It was just a dream. He backed away as Scully picked an instrument from the tray. She was cooing to Krycek, whispering a litany of the incisions she would make. The man on the table stared up at his malicious tormentor hopelessly. Mulder found the door behind him. All he had to do was turn and walk out. Walk away.

Mulder resolutely swiveled, he pushed on the metal plate to open the door and walk away. He heard a gasp, faint, but agonized. He couldn't do it. He couldn't walk away. Mulder winced as he saw Scully painting a scarlet line down Krycek's naked chest with her scalpel.

"No, I can't let this happen. Not even in a dream." Mulder declared. He walked forward. Scully laughed again and said, "You're so hopeless. Do you think you can save him? You? You couldn't save Samantha. You couldn't save me from abduction. Name one person that you saved!"

Mulder could think of a few. Not the ones that mattered the most to him, but he refused to believe that he hadn't impacted one life for all the failures that darkened his soul. Shit, if nothing else, he would accomplish this. He would spare his enemy. Mulder drew his gun and held it steadily on the phantasm of Scully. He watched the black oil roil over her blue eyes. Crying out, he fired three times. He couldn't go for a vital spot even though he knew this wasn't really Scully.

The creature wearing Scully's face collapsed and Mulder quickly ran to Krycek, freeing the man from the straps with frantic agility and speed. Krycek said, "Mulder, I can't walk. I can't even hardly feel if my body is here or not."

Mulder said, "It's okay. I'll carry you."

As he shouldered the heavy limp body, he laughed harshly. "He ain't heavy. He's my brother."

Krycek said, "You knew that?"

Mulder staggering under the weight replied, "What?"

An alarm klaxoned. Lights blazed and Mulder yelled, "Fuck. It set off the alarms."

Krycek said, "It's okay, Mulder. Just set me down. Get out. Get away."

Mulder remembered the thing's words, spoken from Scully's mouth. "Do you think you can save him?"

Maybe not, but he was tired of losing. Tired of running to fight another day. He said. "Not this time, Krycek. This time we stay together to the bitter end."

Mulder sobbed with relief as he reached an elevator. He dropped Krycek down on the beige carpet and stabbed at the down keys. Instead of the expected hum, he heard a hiss. He looked up and saw a white vapor emerge from what appeared to be a fire sprinkler head.

"Oh, shit...." Mulder exclaimed as he sank down beside his enemy.

-----------------

Dark...cold...silent. His throat was raw. Alex opened his eyes and could see nothing. It was darker then the silo even. For a moment there, he thought that he was back inside there, but this was different. He couldn't sense the alien ship. Alex searched his mind. Thank God, no alien lurked there either.

Alex heard someone moaning. It wasn't him for once. He could move although his chest burned and all his muscles ached terribly. He scrabbled forward toward the sound. He collided with warmth, naked human flesh like his own. He followed a strong arm up to the column of neck and thence to a sharp planed face. As his fingers found a high rise of a nose, Alex knew who it was. Mulder. He was in a dark cold place with Mulder.

Alex heard a gasp. Mulder was waking. He wondered if he should get away from the man. He didn't feel up to being hit.

Alex drew a wet sigh from deep in his body. The last thing he remembered before waking on that table was Walter making love to him. He remembered the large mouth engulfing his cock. The thrill of knowing who it was giving him such pleasure and then...then what?

Alex told the darkness. "I was with Skinner at a house. He said it was a beach house, but there wasn't any sand in it. Just like a regular house."

Mulder's voice returned, "Krycek, what are you on? Or was that a joke?"

Alex answered, "I'm not on anything. Except the floor. Did I say something wrong? My mind is a little scrambled." Alex frowned in the darkness and added, "The previous renter didn't maintain the premises."

Mulder moved in the darkness. Alex cringed. He rolled away, shivering at the rough touch of concrete and at the cold.

Mulder said, "Hey, come here. I'm not going to hit you. And it's cold."

Alex froze in place. Now what? Was this a trick?

Mulder scooted over and pressed his chilled flesh to Alex's. This was strange. There was a time when this would have meant the world to him or at least the prospect of a forbidden pleasure. Now, he only felt a gradual increase in warmth as their body heat combined and a distinct uncertainty, not trusting to Mulder's sudden truce making.

Mulder remarked, "That's a little better. Feels as if we are in a basement. Have you looked...felt around?"

Alex said, "No, I woke up just before you did."

Mulder said, "Okay, you take one side and I'll take the other."

The exploration didn't take long. It felt exactly like the cell in Tunguska. Concrete floor. Hole in the center for a latrine. Metal door. That was all. Mulder rattled the door and yelled, but no one responded.

After a few moments of the clamor, Alex said, "Mulder, stop. It's not doing any good and it's giving me a headache."

Mulder snarled, "Fuck your headache." But he did give up and slumped to the floor beside Alex. He reached out and pulled Alex closer.

Mulder asked, "So what were you saying? You and Skinner were at a beach house?"

Alex smiled at the last memory. "Yeah, Walter, Dana, and a pretty lady cop. Langly and Byers were there, but they took Frohike home after the Oilien died."

Alex gulped as he recalled what Frohike had done to him. He knew it wasn't Mulder's friend's fault, but still.... He didn't want to see the man. Not until he was stronger and the memory faded.

Mulder asked, "What do you mean took Frohike home? Was something wrong with him?"

Alex said, "Frohike..." Alex shivered as the memories pushed alarmingly vividly into his mind. He paused and forced himself to breath normally, fighting the panic. He said, "Scully put a needle in me. Then we were so sick. We needed a place to hide and we went to your apartment."

Mulder's chin dug into Alex's shoulder as he grumbled, "I may as well have opened a rooming house for all the traffic I have through there. So what about Frohike?"

Alex said, "He came in and the alien took him when he bent over me." Alex closed his eyes. Against his will, his eyes dripped tears. He cried silently as he remembered what it had felt like, the terror and the humiliation of the rape.

"Alex? Alex, what's wrong? You're crying. Shit, listen to me...as if I care about your feelings..." Mulder exclaimed with a snort.

The hard words were countered by a slow rocking of the lean body. "My brother," Alex thought with a thrill. "My brother is holding me. Comforting me." He wanted to tell Mulder so badly, but he was afraid that the man would be angry. But he clutched the knowledge to him, cherishing it. He had a brother. He wasn't alone.

When Mulder stopped rocking him, Alex took a deep breath and said, "I can't tell you now. It wasn't Frohike's fault anyway."

Mulder sighed and said; "I'll ask him what happened if we get out of this. Now, where do Skinner and Scully come into your story?"

Alex said, "I don't know exactly. I know that they had something the Oilien wanted. And they had something that made the Oilien leave me. I think it's dead. I'm sorry. My mind isn't right. I can't remember everything..."

Mulder said, "Well, I know how I got here. I was following a lead in Springfield. Suddenly, I had a feeling it was a trap. It was such a strong hunch that I pulled as much cash as my credit cards and my ATM card would let me. I left all my ID except my Frohike special in a storage locker. I rented a car and got the hell out of Dodge! I drove until I was exhausted and then stopped at a Super Eight. Funny thing was that I couldn't sleep once I got in a bed. My mind was going round and round. Then I was suddenly remembering things. When the Oilien had me, it was horrible, but I was also fascinated. Some of its thoughts and memories were open to me. I remembered that there was something important at this laboratory. Something we could use against the aliens."

Alex listened. Yeah, that was Mulder. Driven by hunches and willing to chase a will o the wisp anywhere. Somehow, you couldn't quite hate the man. At least, Alex didn't. Maybe that was good. He remembered what Skinner and Scully had been discussing when they thought he was asleep.

Cancerman was his father...Alex shivered with disgust. If he had his choice, he'd as well find out that he was sired at a full moon by a goat headed devil! But Mulder being his brother, well, that was okay with him although Mulder would hate it most likely. Guiltily Alex spared a thought for Jeff Spender. The Oilien had set Spender Junior up royally and Jeff had paid for it with his life. Alex hadn't even tried to fight it. He remembered thinking that Jeff was a Spender and deserved what he got. Shit, so now he bore the mark of Cain on his soul to go with his other sins. Alex thought, as for dear old dad, he would gladly wear the name of patricide if he had a chance at Spender.

Mulder said, "Krycek, do you know what it is that I was going to find here? It couldn't have been you."

Alex felt an impulse to turn around and punch his bastard of a brother. Why couldn't it have been him that was the spur to Mulder's urgent need to come here? Alex shrugged and replied, "I don't even know where we are. I just know that wasn't Dana. She would never act that way. She's too good."

Mulder's body tightened behind him. He said, "I know she's too good for you. Even Skinner is too good for you."

Resentfully, Alex pulled away. He crawled into the farthest corner of the cell. Without someone touching him, there was little to remind him that he had senses. It reminded him of being trapped in his own mind by the oilien. His eyes saw nothing. He scraped his hands on the rough concrete just to prove to himself that he could feel. Calmed by the rasping sensation against his hand, he curled his arms around his knees, huddling to conserve what little warmth that he could find in his body. After all, he decided this was a bad dream. Soon, please, very soon, he would open his eyes and see Walter's face staring down at him. "Walter..." he whispered. Walter said that he was going to take care of everything. Get the whole mess straightened out. Alex needed to believe it. Needed to believe he could have a real life. He was so tired of running. What had he said to Mulder? Got to learn to live with the rats? Well, he had been places that a rat wouldn't venture. Done things no self-respecting rodent would have done.

Alex told himself that Mulder was right. Skinner was too good for him, but Walter acted as if Alex could make him happy. Alex moaned to himself. What was the right thing to do? Should he get out of Skinner's life if he got out of this place? Was that the right thing? Alex held back a sob. It wasn't fair. He needed Walter. He wanted him. Wanted him right now!

Something brushed his leg. Alex yelped. He was convinced that it was a rat and no matter what Mulder said about him, he really didn't like them. Mulder's voice came from near. He said, "Shit, take it easy, Krycek. It's just me."

Alex reached out and found Mulder's shoulder. He wanted to sit close to his brother again, but not if Mulder was going to keep attacking him. He had enough of Mulder's insults for two lifetimes. Alex said, "Get away from me, Mulder."

Mulder said, "I'm sorry, Alex. Come on. We're in this together. And I didn't leave you this time, did I?"

Alex nodded and then remembered Mulder couldn't see that. He said, "Yeah, you didn't. Thank you even if it didn't help either of us. I wonder if Walter is looking for me? If they took me, I'm sure he and Scully are trying to find me. You didn't happen to tell anyone where you were going?"

Mulder laughed softly and said, "Sorry, Alex. You know me. Have to do it alone. It's just you and me, Alex."

Alex sighed and said, "Not really, I know Scully will be looking for you, the real Scully not that creature wearing her face. And Walter...Walter will find us. I know he will."

Mulder said, "I hope you're right. Jesus, it's cold. And I'm exhausted. Let's get some sleep.

They lay side by side with Mulder's arms around Alex. Despite his cold and fear, after a time, Alex fell asleep clinging to his brother...he hoped he would dream about Walter.

BEACH HOUSE:

Helplessly, Walter could do nothing for his lover. Alex thrashed, teeth gnashing, eyes rolling wildly. The convulsions ripped through Alex's body as if a lightening storm brewed in the flesh. Walter reached for his phone. Damn it. Why had he let Scully leave? Now he would have to risk calling the paramedics!

The convulsions ended before the paramedics arrived. Alex was limp, pale, pulse racing and he was quite unconscious although he hadn't stopped breathing this time. Walter ground his teeth with frustration. This shouldn't be happening. The alien was gone and Alex had really seemed to be getting better. He moved the pillows, turned Alex on his side and made sure his head was positioned to keep Alex's airway open. Where in the hell was the emergency team?

Walter heard the siren approaching and ran to the door to wave them inside. The two men moved him aside as they quickly assessed Alex's condition. One of them asked, "Is he an epileptic?"

Walter said, "No, he's had a few of these episodes recently, but I thought he was better. There's no history of seizures before this."

The paramedic frowned. He said, "He's breathing okay and his pulse rate is slowing to near normal, but he needs to go in for observation."

Walter felt a cold jolt. A hospital could mean a death trap. But if Alex had another seizure... He made a swift decision. Walter said, "I agree, but I'll take him to a private hospital unless he needs emergency care."

The paramedic shook his head and said, "He's stable."

Walter picked up the phone and dialed the number that Byers had left. John had a cousin who ran a private total care nursing home. He had suggested it as an alternative before Alex seemed to improve so dramatically. Thank God that John answered promptly. Walter told the man what had happened and Byers promised to make arrangements immediately.

As the paramedics left, Walter sank down on the bed. He stroked Alex's face, feeling intensely guilty. Even if Alex had initiated the sex, Walter should have been in control. He shouldn't have let himself give into the intense craving he had for this man. He had never felt so self disgusted in his life. Not even when he first realized that Spender had him by the balls!

Finally, Walter stood. He may as well get Alex ready to leave. He wet a washcloth and cleaned away all traces of their lovemaking. "I'm so sorry, Alex. I'm doing a shit poor job of taking care of you so far."

Alex's murmured something. Walter leaned close to listen. "Mulder..." The one clear word was followed by a string of totally unintelligible sounds. Alex's grimace showed that it wasn't a pleasant dream that made him say his long ago partner's name. Walter picked up Alex's hand and pressed it to his face. He kissed the hand and then smoothed it back beneath the blanket. Alex was silent for a moment then he whimpered. Walter took Alex's hand again and said, hoping the words would penetrate to the twilight world of dreams, "You're with me, Alex. You're safe. It's going to be okay."

Walter listened to his voice quaver and shook his head. He had to keep control. They weren't out of the fire zone yet. Alex was deathly ill. Mulder was out there some place, probably in mortal danger if Walter knew his rogue agent. And now Scully was on her partner's trail, which was always a risky endeavor.

The private ambulance showed up at the same time as Byers arrived back. Walter nodded at Byers and said, "Byers, I owe you."

A small smile appeared above the tidy beard. Byers said, "You can hold off paying the debt until after we bring down the conspiracy." The sanest member of the Lone Gunmen shrugged and shook his head. He said, "Even if I never thought I'd trust someone who worked for the government again."

Walter said, "Well, I'm not exactly in my working skin right now."

True enough. Walter had only remembered to pull on the jeans that were his camouflage outfit when he was on the run with Scully. He shuddered to think what the paramedics thought of him when he met them naked from the waist up and barefooted. Byers said, "I noticed that. You better get dressed if you want to ride with Krycek. I'll close up here."

Walter asked, "Are you sure that this place is safe?"

Byers replied, "Safe as any place can be for Ratboy. Langly hacked a new identity for Krycek. He'll just be another rich unfortunate stored away in luxury."

Walter grimaced at that description. He refused to believe this was the end. Krycek was a fighter. He wouldn't surrender to this. He was going to wake up and Walter intended to be the first thing that the man saw when he opened those beautiful eyes again.

Walter grabbed the few articles of clothing he had with him. Moments later he was riding in the back of an elegantly designed ambulance. He used the time to call the office, confirming that he needed additional time. The director sounded concerned, but what could he say? Wasn't he always telling Walter to take some time off?

Walter heard a whisper of sound and leaned close to Alex, hoping that he was coming out of this strange sleep. He heard his name and picked up Alex's hand, not caring what the attendant thought. He said, "Alex, I'm right here. I won't leave you. But wake up, Alex. Please wake up."

No miracle occurred. Walter slumped back in the comfortable seat and closed his eyes. He was exhausted and his heart was pounding as if he had just gone three rounds with one of the pros at his gym. He smiled to himself ironically. It would be funny if Alex did him more harm as a friend...lover?... than as an enemy.

The nursing home was set in park like surrounding complete with a few elegant little wrought iron tables on the far reached of the verdant lawn. The building looked like an expensive home except for the parking lot at the end of the drive.

Georgette Byers-Maxim met him in admitting. She bore a strong resemblance to John, but the soulful almost handsome face was transmuted to real beauty in this incarnation. She held out a long elegant hand to Walter and said, "Let me show you around. John tells me that you want to stay for a while to make sure that your friend is settled. I have a room or two for guests. Some of them live far away so they need a comfortable place to stay while they visit.

Walter stopped noticing anything after they briefly visited a patient's room. The old man who lay in the bed resembled a puppet connected by tubes and wires to his former humanity. The handsome oak walls, tasteful paintings, and designer furniture couldn't disguise the truth. The man was like the living dead and the only real cure for his condition was illegal in almost every state. Walter remembered a mercy killing he had once investigated. He had asked to be taken off the case. He couldn't help prosecute a man who had only acted the way Walter would have done in the same situation. Walter leaned against the doorway for a moment.

His hostess said, "I know. It's a bit of a shock. But as I understand it your friend isn't in the same category. We'll provide him with the best of care until your Doctor Scully finds a cure."

After Walter put his overnight bag in a room, he went back to check on Alex. He was no better and no worse. Walter moaned as he observed the IV needle in Alex's arm and the wires that monitored his vital signs. His body was tensed for action, but there was no target, no enemy to pummel with his calloused fists.

Walter startled when his phone rang. He grabbed it and said, "Scully?"

"No, it's John Byers. Skinner..." Byers sounded shaky as if near tears. He said, "When I got home, I went to check on Frohike. Langly said that he went straight to his room and hadn't been out since. He looked okay, but I couldn't wake him. I think what ever happened to Alex; it has happened to Frohike too. It must be something to do with the Oilien...some kind of disease. Langly and I are on our way in with him. I just hope Scully finds Mulder soon. Maybe Mulder can figure it out."

Walter put the phone back in his pocket. He thought it was over when the Oilien had died. Well, it wasn't over. Even dead, the creature was wreaking havoc on their lives. He wished he had as much faith as Byers in Mulder's ability to work this puzzle out. As he looked at Alex, lying so still upon the bed, Alex's eyes opened for a moment and appeared to look right at him. As quickly as the eyelids rose, they fell again.

Walter kissed Alex's cheek then he sat down, head bowed as he wished he believed enough to pray that God would spare them. Walter sighed. Right now, he put more faith in Scully. He hoped she returned quickly and that she would find cure and bring Alex back from the land of the dead..

Scully sighed as she stepped off the flight. The gunmen had traced Mulder to Kingston after he somehow duped a young idiot into taking the flight in his name from St. Louis. Skinner had slapped Mulder's pawn into protective custody. The AD wasn't given to hunches, but he said that he had one about this situation. He felt that young man was in danger and had arranged a safe house for him. Scully had agreed. It didn't take any great leap to suspect that the consortium, the oiliens, the grays, and the shape changers all had a profound lack of respect for human life. Both the guilty and the innocent only had to get in one of the force's ways to mark themselves for death.

Scully tried to get into her partner's head. Mulder would have rented a car from here. All right, Scully could be charming. It was usually Mulder with his soulful eyes and his earnest appearance that did this routine, but Scully knew how to play it to the hilt as well.

Avis, Hearst, Budget, Enterprise...not one trace of her difficult loose cannon of a partner. Scully had worn low heels, but her feet still ached. Even her face ached from the smiles that she had pasted on her face to wheedle the desk clerks. That last one had been hard. She had needed to pull the FBI identification, praying that the clerk would be impressed enough not to check with her supervisor. Fortunately, the twenty something clerk was thrilled to be involved in a federal investigation. She had been very disappointed that her computer held no information that matched Mulder's description.

There was one more rental agency left. Econo Rent a Car occupied a dark kiosk right next to the garage. The desk clerk had his feet up on the desk and his nose parked in a newspaper tabloid. A UFO that resembled a green glowing paper plate decorated the front page of the paper. Scully felt a thrill of excitement. Now this was Mulder's kind of place.

And the clerk recognized the description immediately. His sallow face lit with ruddy color as he glared at Scully. He said, "Yeah, I remember that guy. The screwball was late on getting the vehicle back. Then we get a call about the car being left at a parking lot in Springfield. Cost us a whole day of employee time to get it back. And this guy's credit card was good for the debt, but all the phone numbers that he left were bogus."

Scully had already turned and was heading back to the Avis desk. The drive down was long and boring. Alone with her thoughts, Scully had a few moments of clarity. What had she said to Skinner? She was in love with Mulder? It was not quite a lie even if Scully realized she had blurted that out more to save her pride then for any other reason. She did love Mulder. But there was something missing. She loved him, but she just wasn't in love with her partner. Not the way she had led Skinner to believe.

Scully shivered as she remembered the few glimpses that she had of Skinner with Krycek. That was passion and more. She and Skinner had been good together. Physically they could push each other's buttons. But truthfully, Walter had never looked at her quite like that. And if she was honest, she hadn't given her whole heart either.

In retrospect, Scully realized that she had looked to Walter because he was strong and because it felt safe to love him. Scully's mouth twitched. Walter Skinner was just what her mother would have picked for her good little girl. Margaret Scully had once said that she hoped that Dana would marry someone sensible. She hadn't mentioned Mulder as the antithesis of that equation, but she didn't have to say it for Dana to hear it. Scully wondered what her mother would think about Skinner now?

Skinner was obviously in the middle of an infatuation with Krycek. Scully had been furious when she first realized what had happened. A woman doesn't like to be ditched. But now Scully was cooled down. She really hoped it would work out for them as impossible as that seemed.

Scully grimly directed her thoughts to Mulder. Mulder was every wild impulse that Scully had ever repressed. When she was a little girl, she used to watch her sister, Melissa, pull one crazy stunt after another. As a teenager, she had rescued Melissa from the worst of her mistakes. People asked her why she didn't get angry at her wild sprite of a sister. Dana never replied. Let people think she was a martyr. She always got a vicarious thrill out of Melissa's Icarus like flights...the same way she did watching Mulder buck the system and charge off as mad as Don Quixote with herself cast as his Sancho Panza.

Still, you had to wonder. Did Sancho Panza have moments when he just wanted to quietly slink off, leaving his glorious knight to save his own ass? Dana had to admit that she did. She always remembered that as exasperating as Mulder was that she did love him and even believed he was a hero. If you remembered that heroes often had feet of clay. In Mulder's case, the clay feet sometimes extended all the way up past his ears. Dana decided that if she was to continue being of any value to Mulder, she had to keep her distance. Besides, Dana prided herself on her lack of self-deception. Mulder was very attractive, but live with him? She'd shoot him again...this time in self-preservation!

Dana sighed. Damn, why hadn't Carla Dancer been born a man? Carla was exactly the kind of person that Dana would choose for herself. She was lively, intelligent, brave, and rational. And truth to tell, Dana felt something she didn't expect about the detective. It wasn't anything she felt comfortable feeling and her mother would never approve...

Dana started her trail from the parking lot where the rent a dent had been left. Either Mulder had been kidnapped from here or he had left the car for his own reasons. Shuttles left the lot on a regular basis. Mulder probably took one of them. He could have gone anywhere from there.

Dana told herself 'Think!'

A smile spread across her face. She was an expert in the natural habitat of the Mulder. First stop, the hospitals after which she would check in the jail. It would be just like Mulder to sit sullenly in some cell; too proud to call for help. At least, he'd do that until the first time he spotted a crab louse on his body. Then his girlie scream would be the first thing that Scully heard on her phone.

Bingo! Mulder wasn't in jail this time. He was John Doe Number Three. Brought in almost two days ago after being found in a coma-like sleep at a Super Eight Motel. Dana quickly produced Mulder's identification and the Living Will that made her his next of kin. Dana's relief was short lived. Mulder's chart was only informative in the negative. He was not drugged. He had no skull injury. His body showed elevated levels of body chemicals that related to stress and an electroencephalogram showed intense seizure like activity in his brain. She ordered computerized tomography and a magnetic resonance imaging as well. Just as an off chance, she sent a sample of Mulder's blood to the lab that had helped to test Krycek's blood. After she had ordered all the tests, there was nothing more to do. Sometimes it seemed that she and Mulder took turns waiting for each other to wake. Dana lifted Mulder's hand from beneath the blanket. He murmured something. She leaned close and heard.... "No, please, Scully, leave us alone. Oh, God, Alex? Alex..." Dana stiffened. She tapped Mulder's face certain that if he was near enough consciousness to speak that she should be able to wake him. However, a convulsion wracked him and she hit the buzzer, wanting the medical staff alert in case Mulder needed a crash cart. She moved aside, allowing the neurological resident to take over. He was a specialist and besides, she was well aware that she was too close to Mulder to make him a good physician. As soon as Mulder had stabilized, Dana called Skinner's cell phone. He answered promptly despite the hour. Dana said, "Walter, I found Mulder. He's in the hospital in a coma like condition. He was brought in as a John Doe."

Walter said, "That sounds like the way Alex is now. I had to move him to that nursing home that Byers spoke about. He had a seizure just after you left. We can't rouse him either. I think he's having nightmares. He said Mulder's name several times and ...he said your name also or rather he keeps saying, 'not Scully'"

Dana caught her breath. She had the feeling that Mulder had ditched her again. Dana said, "I'm going to have Mulder moved to the nursing home too. If we can find a cure for one, we can find a cure for the other."

Walter replied, "Yes, and Scully, I have more bad news. Byers and Langly tried to wake Frohike and he's just like Alex. I think I know how the Oilien got away from us when I had the building shut down. I think it drove out in Mulder's body. I think it did something...left something in each of the bodies that explains the condition they are in now."

Frohike in the Myst:

Well, this was a hell of a deal! Like anyone else with an imagination, Frohike had entertained a fantasy about being an invisible man, free to poke about unseen and see what there was to see. Frohike however didn't like the real thing. He hovered about his body, bothered by Byers and Langly's tears. He could see that he was still breathing so he wasn't a ghost. He poked at Byers, but John just kept babbling to his cousin, setting up to bring him to some sort of private hospital.

Frohike rode along with the ambulance, embarrassed and pleased by how upset his companions were about his illness. He liked to think of them as the three musketeers and Mulder as their D'artagnan. What ever had thrown the Gunmen together, it was more than chance. Even if they argued and competed constantly, Langly and Byers were his brothers. Before they were tumbled together by conspiracy and fate, Frohike had never let anyone get close. Now, he couldn't imagine his life without them.

Frohike followed his body into the nursing home, watched grossed out as they hooked it up to all kinds of medical devices. He wondered around until he found Krycek and stared at the pale quiet figure on the bed. He was surprised to see Krycek's misty form climb out of the body. "Krycek!" he said, thinking that the man should be able to hear him, but his fellow ghost just thoughtfully looked down at his own body.

After a few moments, Skinner came into the room and sat down, holding Krycek's hand. Frohike felt sorry for the man. He had always thought that Skinner was a bully who picked on Mulder and knew more than he should about the shadow government that messed with their lives. Now, he saw that Skinner was human and poor guy, he looked like he had a bad case of the love-jones for Krycek.

Krycek must have felt the same because his shade lingered, kissing Skinner and laying his ghostly cheek against Skinner's face. Krycek sighed straightened, looking around as if he heard something calling. Frohike followed.

For a while they walked as if normally, but once they left the nursing home, Frohike saw a big spinning black hole hovering over the lawn. He liked it. It was just like the wormhole in Deep Space Nine! Krycek entered that as if he knew where it was going. Frohike figured things could not get much worse and followed his fellow dispossessed spirit.

It felt as they had stepped off a cliff and were falling though an icy void then they were someplace else. Frohike found out that he could see two separate scenes depending on how he squinted his eyes. One reality held Mulder strapped to a table with a white clad blond bitch doing all sorts of things to him. Krycek's spirit hovered over Mulder's body and weirdly enough Mulder seemed to know it was there.

At the same time, Frohike saw a vision of Mulder and Krycek undergoing the tests together over a matter of days. They didn't see or hear Frohike although he felt as if he was right there with them. Frohike hated this. He didn't like to be alone any more and he was terrified when he saw that the scientists had an Oilien in captivity. Still, there must be something that he could do.

Computers...Frohike knew that world. He sat at a terminal after watching a man use it and enter a password. Frohike's memory was nearly as photographic as Mulder's. He knew he could get into this computer and see what the scientists were doing.

Damn, his fingers went right through the keyboard and he couldn't move the mouse! Frohike shivered and then he gathered his will. If he couldn't hack into the system, then he was going to be the ghost in the machine just like Star Trek again. He wasn't sure how to do this, but he pressed against the CPU as if he was trying to open a door. Whoosh, he was sucked in and wham, he was in a world of swiftly moving lights, humming bits, and boomerangs of energy. Wow, just like Tron, his third favorite movie! There were no cyber-chicks however. It was more like a vast giant library.

Okay, Frohike strengthened that image and concentrated on Nonfiction Mulder and nonfiction Krycek. Yes, there was a shining book with a dragon slayer on the cover that was clearly marked Mulder. Interestingly enough, the knight in shining armor did not have a sword. A dim corridor over from Mulder's glowing tome, Frohike found the volume marked Krycek; the cover picture was of a lance, half dark and half light. A sword marked the first page. The beautiful weapon shone with an eerie glowing light. The gothic script scrolling over the handle read, "Wield Me"

Frohike sat down to read. He had a feeling that he had a very important job to do. He had to find out why Mulder and Krycek were cross-referenced to each other and Spender. After he found that out, there was the small matter of getting back into his body with the knowledge intact.

An indefinite time later, Frohike decided it was time to escape this computer with his purloined information. He grabbed a web link as if it was a swing and, yelling like Tarzan, he yodeled his way through thickets of information. He could feel the familiar pull of his computer's search engines drawing him and grinned. Langly and Byers were in for one hell of a surprise when they next went to download information...

Location Unknown: Somewhere in the topography of nightmares....

Mulder woke at a noise. Krycek jerked out of his arms. He scrambled away, pulling at Mulder to draw him back and keening in fear. The light blinded them. Rough hands made a joke of their resistance. As Mulder's vision returned, he made out details of a white tunnel, lined with harsh lights. He was dragged along, fighting at intervals, but he was weak and stiff after the long wait in the unheated cell. He was almost unresisting until he saw the set up in front of them. The webbing was different; some type of flexible metal, but Mulder knew what this was. He could see the tubes that would drop the black oil to crawl into them.

Screaming, Mulder could barely tell his terrified cries from Krycek's. They both were pinned on the shining stainless steel table, side by side, like sacrifices offered to the hellish aliens. He saw Scully and forgot for a moment that this was not his friend. He held up a hand the inch or two it would move and plead, "Scully! Scully, you can't do this. You can't do this to us."

Scully held a clipboard. A pen resided behind one ear as Mulder had often see her do in careless moments. She walked over and checked the webbing. She smiled down and said, "You just have to remember that it is in a good cause. A little pain and a little fear...it is a small sacrifice for the greater good. You wanted to be special, Mulder? Well, here's your chance. You and your brother will be living weapons. Humanity's last hope. You should be proud."

Mulder screamed, "Scully! No! You don't understand. You don't know what it's like..." Suddenly his mind focused on what she had said. "My brother? Alex is my brother?"

Scully said, "Of course, he is. Spender is a useless piece of shit, but he has some unique genes. Genes that once awakened can save us all."

Alex had stopped sobbing. Mulder felt Alex's hand grasp his. Alex said, "Mulder, you know that's not Scully. It's not Scully."

Mulder gasped, "I know." He held onto Alex's hand...his brother's hand and closed his eyes tightly. He tried not to breath, not to let it in. He felt the first smooth, greasy tendrils creep across his skin. It felt like a maggot-infested corpse that he had once accidentally touched when he was in profiling. Dead flesh slowly undulating with psuedolife. He screamed. He screamed and Alex screamed. The two of them alone in the hell of possession, but clinging desperately to each other's hands...

Waking was slow and agonizing. Every bone and muscle hurt. Mulder barely had time to register that he was some place else when he felt a new pain. He lay restrained, but on his side on a table. Mirroring him, Krycek lay. The creature that wore Scully's body held a long thin needle. Spinal tap...she was doing a spinal tap. Alex's eyes opened and his mouth opened at the same time, a wail coming from him as he felt the new pain. Mulder felt the touch of something cold to his back. He screamed as he felt the needle wind into him.

It was worse to watch everything done to Krycek moments before he experienced it himself. Needles everywhere. They took his blood, his bone marrow, everything. By the time it ended, Mulder had no strength left. He passively lay on a gurney as he and Krycek were wheeled out of the examination room. This time the room was white, white padded room, warm and lit. The burly guards moved him with a weird gentleness down on the floor. Krycek's guards lay him beside Mulder. Alex wasn't screaming anymore. Mulder's own voice told him why. He had no voice left save a whisper, dearly bought at that from the aching hole of his terror and pain ravaged throat.

Mulder struggled to move. Just an inch or two until he could touch his companion in misery. "You okay?" he forced out.

Krycek rolled over to face him and whispered back, "Yeah, just grand."

Mulder asked, "Krycek, the worms? In Russia, did they? I never asked you if they infected you. I just assumed..."

Krycek rolled his eyes and said, "Sorry to burst your bubble. You're not unique. They did it to me too."

Mulder shut his eyes ashamed. Krycek patted his shoulder and said, "Never mind, Mulder. We're in this one together."

Mulder moved closer. Alex let out a sobbing sound and clung to him. Mulder sighed. No sister, he had faced that truth beneath a starry sky. He was never getting Samantha back. But here was his flesh and blood. His family.

Mulder stroked Alex's hair. He said, "Alex, you should have told me. How long have you known I was your brother?"

Alex said, "I wasn't keeping you in the dark. I didn't know either. Scully and Skinner found out and I heard them talking about it. Makes me sick to think about Spender, but I'm glad about you. I always felt that there was something about us. Something that connected us in a crazy way."

Mulder held Alex closer. "I'm going to get you out of here, Alex. This time, I'm not a little boy. They can't take you like they took Samantha."

Alex said, "Sure, Mulder."

Mulder heard the disbelief. He couldn't fault it. He couldn't save Samantha and he was just as helpless here.

Alex trembled in his arms and whimpered. He whispered, "Walter, where are you?"

_______

Walter had torn himself from Krycek's side to meet the ambulance. Scully stepped out, directing the attendants unnecessarily as they moved the gurney with Mulder into the nursing home.

The staff had already moved another of the special beds into the room. Walter cringed at the thought. He had seen some of the other patients. Despite the soft music, the beautiful décor, this was a place of the living dead. The bed in which Alex lay was equipped to turn him frequently and to cushion his naked body from any pressure that would cause bedsores. The only difference between Alex and the other clients in this place was that Alex's brain was very much alive.

Walter had to leave the room while they installed Mulder's plumbing. He stood in the corridor; his blunt cut nails still digging into his hands. His jaw was clenched so hard that it ached. What he really needed was a punching bag or better yet Spender. Somehow, he blamed this all on Spender.

Skinner had never willing given up anyone. Inch by inch he had yielded little bits of his soul, but not his family and not his friends. He had never compromised on that and he would rather die before he did. That was really what disgusted Skinner about Spender. Spender had given up his wife and apparently was equally willing to give up his surviving sons. Skinner growled to himself. He was going to make sure that didn't happen!

Walter turned as he felt a touch on his arm. Scully stood there looking pale and very, very frightened. Walter asked, "Is something wrong with Alex?"

Scully said, "No, he's the same. It's Mulder. I was just reviewing his charts. He didn't have a spinal tap and there is also no notation about a bone marrow sample."

Walter took off his glasses and polished them. He took a deep breath and said, "But Mulder shows evidence of having the tests?"

Scully nodded and said, "Unmistakably."

Skinner decided to go back in the room. Mulder was covered, as Alex had been, a sheet tented above his body, but not touching his skin. Skinner said, "So someone had him either before he was found in that hotel or possibly before you got to the hospital. I think we have another player in the game."

Scully said, "It might be Spender. He has always had this weird thing for Mulder. He hurts him and protects him at the same time."

Skinner walked over to Mulder and brushed the hair back from his agent' forehead. "I don't suppose we'll know until he wakes up. If then. Go get some sleep, Dana. I'll keep watch here.

Dana drooped and then slowly nodded. She said, "I think we should take turns again, keeping watch. We really should move them all together in one room."

Skinner quickly said, "Frohike is next door. Langly and Byers won't leave him. If I need help, I'll just yell for one of them, but when Alex wakes up, he should see one of us."

Dana nodded agreement. She said, "I know." She stepped closer to briefly hug Walter, giving and receiving comfort. She said, "Walter, you keep watch. I'm going to do a comparison of Mulder's blood. See if there are any differences since I last drew a specimen."

Skinner settled in the comfortable armchair in the corner of the room and took out his briefcase. Despite being officially on leave, he had reports to read. Too bad the reports weren't Mulder's. One thing about Mulder's reports, they never threatened to put Skinner to sleep as many of his other agents did.

As Skinner read, he was aware of faint vocalizations from the two unconscious men. It was almost as if they were talking to each other, but few of the words were clear. It was as if Krycek and Mulder had invented some secret language that only the two could understand. He just wished they would wake...

SOMEWHERE IN A NIGHTMARE WALK ABOUT....

Mulder pulled himself into a seated position. Alex lay curled on his side, arms wrapped around his stomach. The last test had been almost worse then the black oil worms. Their tormentor had kissed him. Mulder wiped at his lips in disgust. He could still feel and taste the oil that vectored the alien. It had crawled down his throat and oozed into his body. Mulder shivered as he remembered the way it felt, coiling within him. It was a little different from the one that had rode Krycek. Mulder had very nearly understood that creature as if it had somehow become almost human in its reactions... This one had been stronger and its thoughts were incomprehensible to Mulder.

Mulder did understand that the Oilien could fear. It felt fear as it found the changes in Mulder's body. It retained enough control to force him to attack Alex. Mulder remembered pinning his brother, nearly snapping his neck back to take his lips, to extrude its substance into Alex.

As Mulder staggered away, coughing and choking, an inhuman scream emerged from Alex's mouth. Alex had bashed against the wall, trying to get out. Then he had fallen to his knees, spewing up a pool of feebly moving gray oil. They had both crouched in the farthest corner from the thing, watching it die.

Their keepers had been very pleased. Mulder had been out of it, but he understood that "Harvesting their cells" did not have a good ring to it. But at least the guards were in a good mood and careless because of it. Mulder had seen Alex snag something from a guard's belt.

Mulder moved close to his fellow captive. Pulling his brother close, he asked, "What did you take from the guard, Alex?"

Krycek moaned and said, "Keycard."

Mulder scanned the blank door to the padded cell and said, "It won't help us in here."

Krycek said, "Got to get the guard in here. Tell them I'm dying."

Mulder said, "That's an old trick."

Krycek said, "Not even sure if it is a trick. I feel bad, Mulder. Really sick."

Mulder crawled to his feet and started yelling. He knew they were monitored. That's why they had made a habit out of speaking directly into each other's ear. Since they spent most of the time when they were not being used for experiments clinging to each other anyway, he assumed that their communications weren't noticed. Anyway, Mulder yelled, "You ass holes, you've done it now. He's dying. Krycek is dying. He can't breath!"

Krycek supplied some realistic sounds. Mulder hoped he was faking. It took a long time for the guard to check. Mulder obediently stepped back, waiting until the two men were concentrating on Krycek. The one holding the gun on him looked at Krycek when the "dying man" came to suddenly deadly life. Mulder heard a snapping sound and winced. He didn't stop to think about it. He used his speed and his desperation to hit the armed man with every ounce of force that he could muster. He hit the man twice more before Krycek grabbed his arm and said, "Let's go. Come on, Mulder."

They were running, reeling and supporting each other at intervals. Despite their weakness, they only paused when they had to use the key card. Mulder remembered to use the stairs. They ran until they reached a crawl way. Alex boosted him up and then Mulder reached back to help his brother up into the aperture. Alex struggled up and then they moved further into the shaft.

Mulder felt there was something wrong with all of this. But he couldn't stop to analyze what it was. He just kept moving, reaching behind himself at intervals to make sure that Alex was still with him.

Finally, he could hear the roar of traffic and moved to his back to kick the grill out. Alex gasped, "Mulder, hurry there's something in here. Something following us."

Mulder kicked wildly, calling on the last of his strength to break the grill out. He heard it clatter free and laughed in triumph. He wriggled through the narrow opening, compressing this body to wiggle out. He was dimly aware of scraped shoulders, just one more pain in a litany of agony. He reached back and said, "Alex, come on. We're almost free."

Krycek's broader shoulders wouldn't pass through the opening. Mulder yelled, "Exhale! Alex, you can do it. Give me your hands. Come on!"

Mulder pulled hard. Alex's face was distorted with pain. Then suddenly, Alex wailed, "Mulder, get the fuck away. It has me."

Mulder screamed as he felt Alex pulled back. "No!" he tried to hold on, but Alex was inexorably drawn away from his grip. He felt as if he was falling, falling for a long, long dark time.

Eons later, there was a moment of bright blinding white and then he was looking up at Dana Scully's face.

No, no, no...he couldn't take anymore. He lunged up, a roar of fear emerging from his lips. He was not tied down! Scully reached for him, but he evaded her grip. He saw a door and ran for it, straight into the solid bulk of AD Skinner. And there he stayed, holding on like a kid seeking refuge from a nightmare. "Sir, keep her away from me. Get me out of here. Get us out."

Skinner pulled him close. One of the massive hands rubbed his back. Skinner said, "Mulder, you're fine. You're safe. Scully found you in a hotel. You were unconscious. You've been out of it for days."

"Alex?" Mulder pulled himself away, but still held onto Skinner's massive arm. "Alex was with me. Did you find him too?"

Skinner frowned and said, "Alex wasn't with you. He's there. He's been with me or under watch almost all of the time since you left."

Mulder followed the gesture to a hospital bed. He kept a wary eye on Scully. Part of him knew that the woman who had tortured he and Alex wasn't his partner, but he didn't think he would ever look at Scully again without feeling some element of fear. Mulder tried to go to the bed where Krycek lay still as death. He wobbled, but Skinner caught him. Mulder said, "Take me there. Take me to him."

Skinner looked distrustful. He said, "Mulder, I'm not going to let you hit Krycek. Not now. Not ever."

Mulder shook his head and he said, "You don't understand. He's my brother and we were in hell together. I didn't mean to leave him behind. We have to rescue him."

Skinner's face had that expression that it wore just before he considered committing Mulder for psychiatric observation. Mulder did some fast thinking and said, "Look, I can see that Alex's body is here just as you say mine was in a hotel. I'll buy it if you buy what I'm saying. Alex was with me at some consortium laboratory at least his consciousness was. How else would I know he's my brother? How else would I know that you and he are lovers?"

Mulder winced as he saw the scowl spread over Skinner's face. God, the man was impressive when he was angry. Mulder held up his hands and said, "Sir, that wasn't an insult. I wouldn't bring it up except that how else would I know unless Alex told me?"

Mulder rubbed his eyes and took another step to Alex's bed. This time he made it. He laid a gentle hand on Krycek's face and said, "Alex, come on. Come out of this. Brother, we have work to do."

Alex didn't stir. Mulder sighed and ruefully looked at Walter. "You try kissing him? It worked for Sleeping Beauty."

Skinner scowled again. Mulder said, "Hey, just a thought." His brain seemed to be clearing, clearer then it had been for years. Mulder said, "You know what I think? I think that the magical mystery trip that Krycek and I took had a purpose. In my dream world walkabout, there was a doctor. She looked like Scully." He repressed a shudder and said, "But acted like a modern day Mengele However she kept saying that the key was in us like it would have been in Jeff Spender if he had lived and been exposed to the black oil. In the dream, she kept exposing us to the black oil in various forms and then taking samples from us. She said that we should be proud. That our entire purpose and reason to be born was to be a living antibody to the oiliens. What if that's true?"

Scully kept her distance. Mulder wished he could control his reactions, but he couldn't forget that face bending over him. He couldn't forget the pain. He looked in her direction and only winced a little. He said, "Scully, if we can find that laboratory, I think we can help Alex. Whatever vaccine they had you give Alex. It's not the right one. It killed the Oilien, but it also is making Alex sick. The rebels don't want us to have the right one, because it would be a weapon we could use against them. The right one when combined with my blood and Alex's will kill any of them. All one of us would have to do once it's perfect is get inside one of the ships. We would be more deadly then Smallpox was to the Indians."

Mulder looked at Scully and Skinner hopelessly. He said, "Just go with me on this. Find out if there's a real place like the one where I remember being held. Fargo Phlebotomology Laboratories...it might not be in Springfield. Maybe it's not real, but I think it is."

Mulder sat on the side of Alex's bed. He said, "Skinner, if you care about my brother...trust me. Trust me one more time."

As if to support this plea, Alex's hand crept up, finding his. Mulder looked at his friends and said, "What's the verdict?"

(And out of Nightmare in Area 51 to StarWindDancer...)