Frozen in Time

r1-tarlan-p7

Alex glanced up as Wade du Pres entered the room, followed closely by one of the burly guards. He kept his face impassive as he watched the young medic's progress across the room, eyes narrowing only slightly as a covered tray was placed on the nearby table top. Wade turned to him, licking his lips nervously. It was obvious that he was intimidated by Alex and, despite appearances to the contrary, it was obvious that the guard felt just as uncomfortable in his presence. But then, who could blame them?

A feral smile curled his lips as he remembered the incident that took place only two days earlier.

He had awoken to the click of the door opening, eyes snapping towards the large figure lurking on the threshold, furtively checking along the corridor before pushing the door closed firmly behind him. Alex did not need to be a mind-reader to know the thoughts slithering through the bigger man's brain, he could read the lust in the heated stare, could see the physical evidence tenting the man's black uniform pants.

The man had licked his lips, his fat slug of a tongue crawling across his mouth leaving a glistening trail behind it. Alex had controlled the inner shudder of disgust as he recalled the way Cancer Man's guard had restrained then raped him but, this time, he was no helpless captive with his arm pulled tight up his back, and his air supply restricted by the tightness of the choke collar. This time he was unfettered, and this time he had two arms.

More guards had erupted into the room only minutes later, intent on saving his virtue, slamming to a halt up against each other as they saw the bloodied remains of Alex's would-be rapist lying before them.

Three hundred and fourteen years ago, Alex had broken two people's noses as he tried to escape from the Consortium's clutches, but his actual intent had been to kill. At the time, only the restraints had saved both of those men, his body unable to get sufficient momentum and the right angle to finish the job properly. This time the sliver of nasal bone had been slammed up into the guard's brain by the heel of Krycek's hand, the guard dropping dead instantly.

Wade's soft voice called him back to the present.

"It's food. Real food." Wade moved back and took a seat in the far corner. "I'll just sit over here while you eat."

Alex glanced at the now uncovered tray but he made no move towards it. He was not afraid of discovering the food had been drugged for it made no sense. If that was their intent then they could just as easily have drugged him while he was still hooked up to the nutrient drip. The drip had been removed a few hours earlier, the various doctors having finally come to an agreement that his body functions had recovered sufficiently to allow for normal food intake. According to Wade, Mulder had been taken off the drip several days earlier but then Mulder had not been expending energy growing back an arm.

He wiggled his fingers on his left arm, still afraid this was all just some nightmare dredged up from his over-fertile imagination.

Over the past week he had regained far more of the memories leading up to his arrival in this place. He recalled the way he had pleaded with the Smoker not to put him into the chamber, even begging for a quick death rather than taking the chance of finding himself trapped in that coffin, alone and aware.

Initially he had feared that this place was just some part of a phantom world he had created within himself as his mind tried to latch onto any thought or dream that would push away the encroaching darkness of his living tomb.

That thought had been given greater substance on the first night following the death of the guard. He had awoken in darkness, his sleep-fuddled brain forgetting that he had been restrained by Ignu's order - for his own good. All he knew was that it was pitch black, and he could not move.

His screams of panic had brought guards and doctors running. The lights had blazed on, stabbing into his wide open eyes, bringing tears streaming down his face. His fear subsided slowly as the calm words and reassuring touch of Dr Gethin seeped through the nightmare images of Silo 1013 and the smothering sensation of the black oil that had seeped into and then out of his body. Gethin had ordered the removal of the restraints and then he had held Alex until the trembling stopped.

In hindsight, the whole episode was embarrassing. Within a few short hours he had gone from cold-blooded killer to blubbering child.

Alex looked up sharply, catching a desire-filled look on the guard's face that was quickly erased by one of fear. Perhaps his new reputation as a killer far outweighed the later display of vulnerability after all. However, that lustful leer also made him wonder about this place. He seemed to be gaining the same looks from every person who laid eyes upon him, feeling himself appraised like some living Adonis. The idea should have been flattering but instead it filled him with dread. He had not seen one single woman since awakening and, despite their assertions that three hundred years has passed, Alex was not fool enough to accept such a statement without far greater proof. Truth to say, he was still expecting the Smoker to waltz in any moment, the ever present cancer stick filling the air with its curls of acrid blue smoke. Of course, Covarrubias would be at Spender's right hand, luxuriating in her promotion within the ranks from experimentee to top player.

He wondered where he was being held, and he wondered how long the men on the base had been stationed here but, judging by those lust-filled looks, he decided that they had to have been here quite some time without female companionship.

A terrible thought crossed his mind. One of the guards had already tried to force himself upon him. What if someone had tried to rape Mulder too? What if they had succeeded?

Alex swallowed hard as his thoughts turned to Fox Mulder.

Why should I care what happens to Mulder?

But he did care. He had always cared despite the animosity that existed between them. He felt a tingling warmth suffusing his body, a fluttering in his stomach, as images of Fox Mulder came to mind. He admired the intelligence gleaming in the chameleon eyes, enjoyed watching the colours change from hazel to gold to blue with each play of emotion across the handsome face. Phantom touches tingled his nerve endings, his fingers rising to his mouth as he remembered the slight rasp of stubble on the cheek beneath his lips as he kissed Mulder for the first and only time.

Spender had hinted that there was far more to Mulder's perception of him than either Alex or Mulder allowed himself to believe. That cancerous old bastard had insinuated that the apparent animosity hid a far different set of emotions, including one that Mulder was not willing to admit even to himself. Well, Alex did not need anyone to tell him how he felt about Mulder. He had spent many a long night in that Tunisian jail thinking about the beautiful man, and dreaming of what he would like to do with Mulder.

The warmth in his groin expanded, radiating through his belly, tingling in his thighs as he imagined the sight of Fox Mulder lying heavy and satiated in his arms, those eyes full of contentment and love - for him.

He found himself wishing they would allow him to see Mulder, wanting to assure himself that Mulder was fine.

"You have beautiful eyes."

"What?"

Wade stammered, shrinking visibly away from the glare Alex gave him. From his peripheral vision, Alex saw the guard stiffen, thick fingers tightening around the weapon held in readiness, as if expecting a recurrence of the violence that had ended a fellow guard's life.

"I-I didn't mean to be rude. It's just... not many people have green eyes."

"You have green eyes."

Wade ducked his head, a look of increased embarrassment crossing his handsome features. When he raised his head, Wade found the courage to look at Alex directly.

"I'm descended from one of the First Families. My ancestors were protected from the worst effects of the alien invasion. They were not exposed to the initial radiation that poisoned the earth - or to the alien viruses that killed or mutated most of the surviving population." Wade laughed shyly. "I remember my mother telling me that the only reason my first ancestor was offered the sanctuary of the Domes was because one of the elders had a fixation with green eyes."

Eyes.

In those last few moments as the sedative took effect, Spender had said something cryptic about his eyes. He strained to remember the words, and an echo of that familiar voice filled his head.

"I want you to know that it was those eyes that saved your life. I'm allowing you to live because you're beautiful."

The rest of Spender's words were still fogged, but they had the power to make him shiver. Superior genes; wanting his body and settling for his soul.

He remembered the early days when he worked for Spender, before he discovered the truth behind the Consortium and started building the Resistance. He recalled the way Spender would talk to him, almost lovingly. He had always assumed Spender felt strangely paternal towards him, treating him like a surrogate son, an heir to his empire. Now he wondered if he had misread the old man all those years. What if Spender had held desires for him physically, designs on his body rather than his mind?

Everything started to tumble into place. Even in the Tunisian prison, despite the way he seemed to have been abandoned, he had been treated relatively well in so much as no one had ever tried to lay a finger upon him. He saw countless others being forced into the dark corners of the crowded cell, their cries muffled as their bodies were taken forcibly, and had often lain awake, wondering when it would be the turn of his body to slake the carnal desires of another prisoner. He had assumed that it was his imperfection, his missing left arm, that kept the others from wanting him. Now he was not so certain.

Covarrubias had known exactly where to find him. Her steps had not faltered once during the long walk between the rows of crowded cells. She had stopped outside of his cell, addressing her words to him with the certain knowledge of his presence within that cell, even though he had been out of sight.

Eyes. Green eyes.

"You sly old bastard."

Alex swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for the tray of food. He stared at the contents, trying to decide what the grey-looking mess could be.

"Porridge."

Alex nodded and lifted up the spoon in his left hand, ignoring the trembling of newly regrown nerves, flesh and sinew. It was time to start building up strength and coordination in his new arm; he would need both when the time came to make his escape.

******

Joseph Sanchez glanced each way along the corridor before sliding into the private office of Minister Lermontov, well aware of the consequences should he be caught. Visions of the sterile laboratories filled with torture equipment danced inside his head for a moment, sending a shiver of fear through his body.

Coming here was the biggest gamble of his life but the rumour he had overheard, if proved, could mean life or death for what remained of the Resistance.

Quickly, he set to work accessing the private files on the desktop computer, his jaw dropping when he found the relevant information revealing the true magnitude of the discovery in the Dakotas; not one but two fully human males, one of them a legendary figure of the Resistance.

Making his way through the vast city, to the secluded area where he would be able to transmit a message, was the hardest, longest journey of his life. It was not a safe time but Sanchez realised that this message may be the single most important piece of information he ever sent.

With trembling fingers he sent the transmission.

******

Commander Jefferson sat down in shock. His large pupils seemed to dilate even further, like black holes that sucked the last of the golden iris into its hungry depths. He listened intently as Jacqueline related the information supplied by their spy at Consortium headquarters.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, Commander. Alex Krycek lives. He was found during an archaeological survey in the Dakotas. He has been in stasis for all these centuries, and, if reports are to be believed, he is one of only two pure humans in existence. No mutated genes, and fully resistant to the black oil virus."

Jefferson shook his head from side to side, still in disbelief that, finally, the mystery surrounding the disappearance of the infamous resistance fighter had been solved. Krycek had played a difficult role in a very dangerous game, pretending to be a mercenary to cover the fact that, all the time, he had been supplying the human resistance with an amazing amount of information. In the end it had all come to nought. Although they had managed to defeat the aliens it was at a high price. Billions had died, and most cities of the world were levelled or made uninhabitable. In the meantime, the First Families, who were the original Consortium, waited in their safe domes until it was all over, and then they reached out and snapped up the reins of power, just as they had been planning for decades.

What was left of the human resistance, after defeating the aliens, did not have the strength to fight the Consortium, having already been reduced to struggling pockets of humanity through the rising death toll from disease and starvation.

The Resistance had been forced to flee or die, their gene pool stagnating at a vastly accelerated rate than that the rest of humanity due to the necessity to remain apart and hidden.

"There is more news. Wade du Pres was among the medics chosen to assist in the reanimation process. He is still there."

A slow grin spread across the aged features. They had deliberately freed Nicola du Pres from the breeding camps to give them greater leverage when the time came to offer Wade du Pres a similar chance of freedom. As one of the few males with viable sperm but, equally as important, carrying less genetic mutation as he was a direct descendant of one of the First Families, it was only a matter of time before the young man disappeared into the Consortium's secret male breeding installation.

Until now, though, Wade du Pres had been kept in the relatively safe but tightly secure University City. This was an almost impenetrable part of the city of Domes set up by the Consortium in the relative remoteness of Arizona just prior to the start of the alien war.

They spent the next hour poring over the archaeological sites security plans. Jefferson was stunned to realise how insecure the site was and he quickly reached the opinion that if they were going to retrieve Alex Krycek, Fox Mulder and Wade du Pres then they would have to act immediately, before Lermontov had the men transferred to the City of Domes.

He issued a telepathic command to his top planners, sending them scurrying to locate all the necessary information for the preparation of another rescue mission.

******

General Kamarov sighed as he stared back and forth between the two monitors, uncertain which of these two beautiful men appealed to him most. His earlier supposition that these were two rich men who had bought their salvation from the terrible war, had fallen by the wayside as he witnessed the stunning violence of Alex Krycek.

Yet, something told him that these were not two ordinary men, dragged from their beds in the middle of the night and placed into cryogenic chambers just because they were beautiful. He had a feeling that the answer would be found in the decaying journal found between the two chambers, but Madeleine Wright was taking an extraordinary amount of care with it. His one attempt to speed up the disclosure of the contents of that journal had resulted in the loss of two sides of script, the paper dissolving into a pile of dust at the rough handling.

Kamarov looked up as his aide entered the office.

"I believe it is time we allowed our two beauties to meet."

Well, that's round 1 completed. On to Demi-X for round 2 <vbg>