* * *

Heart's Desire r2-StarWindDancer-p2

* * *

Osebo reclaimed the doe that was just outside the cabin. It was a good thing that he had left the animal alive. After the attack he was quite tired and needed to rest. He needed to claim something to gain strength to try once again. While the attack was not successful, he had learned something valuable. Controlling an inanimate object had been a lot easier then something alive. The things that were alive fought back and took much more effort to control. However, the inanimate object didn't feed him like a live being did but maybe he could get around that. He would have to experiment when he tried for the green eyed Alex again.

The faint sound of baying wolves in the distance spurred Osebo on.

He would feed and then return.

* * *

"Let's get out of here!" Mulder heard Krycek scream before being barreled into the wall as the young man rushed past him into the other room.

It was out there that Mulder found Krycek holding onto the kitchen table for dear life, his whole body shaking uncontrollably. He had to shoot down the urge to comfort the younger man. Whatever was going on between them was not something Mulder wanted to encourage.

"Damn it. Do you have any idea where it may have gone?" Krycek asked.

"What makes you think I have any idea?"

"Well, you are our resident ghost hunter, Mulder. Surely you and Scully have come across something like this in your precious x-files."

"We don't know if it is a ghost or not, though I doubt if it is. Ghost like to cause problems for people but I've never come across something that behaves like this."

"So what do you suppose it is? Is there any way to fight it?"

Mulder sat down on the couch to search through his brain for any x-files or phenomenon that could compare with what was going on. He ran through the list of demons (the thing *had* possessed him after all), ghosts, spirits, manitoo, and other such creatures. None of them seemed to adequately fit their visitor.

As he was running through the list, he noted that it took a while for Krycek to calm down. The young man was positively wound up, almost like a spring ready to snap.

He'd have to watch the younger man.

//Yeah, watch that cute, tight ass,// a voice whispered to Mulder.

He started, wondering if it, what-ever-the-fuck-it-was, was back.

"What? Did you just remember where you put your alien origin ghost hunting magical stones?" Krycek asked with all the bravo the younger man seemed to be capable of.

Mulder was able to see through it immediately. He didn't have a psychology degree for nothing. The young man was putting on the false act, trying to keep him unbalanced and protect himself. What Mulder had done to him earlier probably cut deeper then the young man could admit. So on the tablet in Mulder's head, the one where he wrote notes for profiles, suddenly had another marker under the probability of abuse or something similar having occurred at another time in Krycek's life.

"Nothing, well- except we should probably hang our clothes up to dry faster," Mulder said, realizing that he was naked underneath the blankets he was wearing. At least Krycek was wearing jeans.

//And no underwear.//

Mulder was able to cover up his shock at that realization by getting up to move towards their clothes just inside the bedroom.

"No," croaked Krycek behind him, fear evident in the voice before it disappeared completely. "You know, if you come back possessed, I'll shoot you."

"And what are you going to shoot me with," Mulder retorted as he spied the gun lying on the floor of the bedroom next to his pants. It must have slipped off when Krycek undressed him. He immediately picked it up before going for his pants.

Mulder snagged the rest of the clothes. The whole time he was practically standing on his tip toes, as if that would keep the monster at bay. The hair on the back of his neck had risen on end and refused to go down as he collected their stuff, not forgetting Krycek's arm. It was the least he could do for the young man. With the arm Krycek would probably gain a bit of equilibrium, like clutching a safety blanket. Plus it kind of freaked Mulder out to see the scared remains of Krycek's arm.

* * *

Shit.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why don't you just kneel down in the snow outside and let Mulder put a bullet through your brain, Alex. It'd be quick and easy then he can deal with what-ever-the-fuck-it-is.

I could hear Mulder in the other room. It sounded like he was just picking up the clothes but I didn't trust him. Whatever it was had taken him over and...

I better not go there. I'm stuck in a cabin with him.

How did I get myself into this mess? I'm stuck in a cabin with a gay FBI agent who likes beating me up and has already...

Don't think about that, Alex. Grab something to defend yourself.

I smirk when I see the cast iron skillet under the sink.

//Hey, Mulder, come and meet my new best friend.//

It's not as good as a gun but it could do some major damage before he even gets a hand on me. I'll have to get the gun from Mulder later. Boy, I could really use two hands right about now. One for the gun, another for the skillet.

I tense when he steps into the room.

"Don't worry, Krycek, it's just me," Mulder says smugly as he exited the room with our clothes and, damn, my arm.

"Even if it is *just* you, name one reason I should trust ya."

"It's not like you have any choice, we're stuck out here in the middle of no where with no where to go and something after us."

"All the more reason to leave." I nod towards the window, gripping the skillet tighter, and saying, "as soon as my clothes are dry and I've had something to eat, I am out of here. This ghost seems to only come out at night and I have no intention of being anywhere near here come the dark."

"You can't leave," I hear Mulder say in his dry, monotone voice. I just want to smack him upside the head just so I wouldn't have to hear that tone again. The self-righteous bastard.

"Like hell I can't."

"Alex..."

"Krycek. My name is Krycek, Mulder. That is in less you want me to start calling you Foxy," I sneer. I feel like I want to do a touch down dance when I see him flinch. Good. I do not want him using my name. Calling me Alex brings back memories of being partners, of being friends. Mulder is not my friend; he's not even an object of fantasy any more. I do not want him touching me ever again.

"OK, Krycek."

You know, Mulder, I can almost see what your brains look like spread around the cabin. Shut off the psychoanalysis and talk like a real person.

Of course growling at him did not have this effect.

"Krycek," such a calm and reasonable tone that grates on my ears. "We need to stay put. We need to wait here for somebody to rescue us. If it starts snowing, this would be the best place to be. We can look for a radio or something to call for help."

The man has the gall to move slowly and talk like he's talking to a mad man like Duane Berry or something. Mulder's carefully put down the clothes and my arm on the couch. He stuck the gun behind him, as if I didn't see that move.

"Don't you think I know that. Under normal circumstances I would. I'd stay put and wait for better weather. Ever survive a Russian winter, Mulder? This stuff is popcorn compared to that cold but I am not staying here. I'm going back to the high way and hiking my way out."

"Krycek, you can't leave."

"Just watch me. I'm not your prisoner anymore so in less you want a fight, I'd suggest you just hang the clothes out to dry so you can cover your ass. You look like a teenager getting ready for a kegger."

Indeed, Mulder did look like some weird roman getting ready for an orgy. Hell, he looked like a roman. All he needed was a laurel wreath around his head and a beer in his hand.

I chuckled as the image of drunken Mulder staggered around in my head. Beer in hand, babe on the other, so stoned he was shouting the sky was falling. Somebody must have worked real hard to get that stick up his ass after he got out of college. Of course it didn't compare to the pole sticking out of Scully's.

And Mulder's looking at me strange now.

I laughed even harder, until my sides were sore. I could just see them. Mulder planted in the ground with a stick coming out of his ass, Scully beside him, firmly planted on a school's flagpole.

"You're crazy," Mulder said as I thumped the skillet on the table a few times in my mirth.

"Takes one to know one. Really, Mulder, we need to get out of here. If we don't find a radio, we can pack up and hike out. If you were right and that is a town up ahead we may be able to reach it late tonight or early tomorrow."

"We can't leave."

"Oh yes we can, or at least I can. Stay here and investigate your x-file. If it kills you," I shrug my shoulders, part of me not caring. I am not Mulder's keeper, Scully is. "The point is, Mulder, I'm leaving."

"You can't leave, you're still my prisoner," Mulder smirks at me and visions of his brain matter splatter patterns run through my head. He really is such a conceited bastard at times.

"Not anymore." I show him my cuffless wrist. "I get out of this free and clear. Small payment for saving your life..."

"But..."

"No buts, if I hadn't pulled you out of the car you'd be dead now." I laid the skillet down as I sat at the table. I had total control of the situation now. I was the master. "I walk on out of here, free and clear. If not I blab my mouth about...," I wave my hand in the direction of the bed room, my stomach rolling in knots, "what happened earlier."

I can just see it now. Me lying in the hospital, traumatized about my rape at the hands of my once partner and now enemy, the same enemy that kept saying loudly that I'd killed his father without a shred of proof that I did. The same man who beat me in front of a dozen eye witnesses, yelling about alien abductions and mysterious men in back rooms.

Oh, I would play the part up, that's for sure. I would love to see the disillusion in Scully's eyes as she saw the monster that Mulder was capable of being. And what was truly great, the firm nail in the coffin is that Mulder wouldn't lie about it. He would tell his precious truth about the incident, unable to lie and deny that part of himself.

And I was giving him a choice. Sure I would love to destroy Mulder that way but I still respected the man. His blind devotion and quest had been infectious. While Scully and him had been split up and I had been his partner it felt like I had inherited a legacy. Like I had come upon something greater then myself and could save the world.

I, at least, owed him a choice.

"So what's it gonna be?"

"I... you wouldn't."

"You bet I would. I have no doubt that they will kill me as soon as they could but if I have to go I'm taking you down with me. I'm trying to survive here, Mulder, and I will use any weapon I can to do just that."

"And how do I know that you won't use that against me another time?"

"What, do you think I'm stupid? It won't work. If it did, I might have used that line earlier. I have proof that will disappear in a couple a days, thank you for that, by the way," I sneer loudly. I felt totally vindicated when he cringes at my words. "I have your testimony. That's one thing I respected about you, Mulder, you don't lie, at least not much. You deceive but you don't' lie. Take the deal, Mulder, I won't mention it to anyone. It'll remain just between you, me, and what-ever-the-fuck-it-is and I don't think it's talking."

"You bastard."

"Hey, leave my parents out of this. They were legally married when they had me so leave them out of this." I smile. I know Mulder will take the deal. He can't, he wouldn't let me take his life away from him; not Scully, not the x-files, and not his quest. And that is exactly what would happen if he brought me back as a prisoner and I opened my mouth.

I may not be able to drag him half way across the world in hand cuffs just in time to have his arm lopped off but I could still manipulate him. I had him in the palm of my hand, unfortunately my only hand.

"Deal, but if you ever...," his eyes burned like amber coals into mine.

"Not one word."

"Honor among thieves, Krycek?"

I shook my head. I wasn't a thief nor was I an assassin but I couldn't tell Mulder this. "I just know which side of the bread is buttered. Veggie soup?" I held up a can of vegetable soup concentrate, having tired of that line of discussion. I was free and clear but I wasn't going to leave hungry.

"No, I just lost my appetite."

"Your loss," I said as I opened up a can. I didn't bother to heat it up into soup or add water. I had actually grown accustomed to the sharp tang of concentrate soup. If filled me up a whole lot better then that watery crap. I always felt like a water balloon after a pot of the stuff.

I watched Mulder frown as he watched me dig into the stuff. I just smiled at him and continued eating. He continued putting our clothes up around the place.

He hung them off of chairs, the top of doors, and even pulled the cushions off part of the couch to lay them across the wooden framing. Last, he picked up my arm.

"Here," Mulder mumbled without looking at me. The arm looked like some reluctant peace offering in his hands.

"I don't wanna. It's heavy," I say back. I know it's childish of me but I want him to look at my stump. I want him to see the consequences of his actions. If only he had trusted me, if only he had waited in Tunguska I would be whole. Not some crippled monster that I am now.

//Look at it, Mulder. Do you ever wonder what it felt like for me? Woken up in the middle of the night to have your arm hacked off by people you had turned to, people you trusted. I wonder how you got a choice and I didn't. Could this have been you? If so, look at it and suffer.//

I heard my arm thunk heavily onto the table but I kept my eyes firmly on Mulder. His eyes met mine briefly before skittering away. Yep, he couldn't stand the sight of me.

//Go to hell, you bastard.//

Not wanting to eat, Mulder sprawled in one of the chairs with one of the books from the wall.

I remember some of my time snowed in at Tunguska. I read every scrap of paper in that place, twice. And absolutely bored out of my mind the whole time.

That's one thing Mulder doesn't know about me and something he's not going to find out. That I get cabin fever- bad. It wasn't just the silo, it was also Tunguska. I could still hear the screams of the prisoners. Being stuck in that hell hole during a winter, a Russian winter at that, made my feet even more wanderlust then ever.

That was the last time I was ever in one place longer then a week. The time before that was when I was his partner.

I am now firmly a loner and a wanderer.

The world was at my feet and I could just go on traveling, watching the world go by. I liked my life, I liked seeing the world. Now if I could just get an obsessed Fibbie and a group of shadow men off my back I would live a happy life.

I ate two more cans of soup and wished for some bread. Even concentrate it still felt too watery.

I checked on our clothes. They were mostly dry, just a few small damp, cold patches left. It was mid-morning now. Maybe about 9, 10 o'clock. I'd wait an hour for my clothes to get as dry as they could then I was heading off.

I dimly noted that Mulder was reading and not looking for a radio.

Sucks to be him cause I'm not looking for it. I am getting out of here while the getting's good. I'll just read a little while then I was getting out of here.

* * *

I couldn't believe it when I woke up nearly two hours later. I knew I was tired but I have been tired before. Sleeping with a mad Fibbie in the same room and an absent ghost about was not one of the smartest things I have done.

But that could be said about a great many things.

I stretch out, letting the cramped muscles and tendons know I'm getting up. I hear the pop and crackle of my bones shifting.

"So, Mulder, coming with me?" I ask as I move about the room collecting my clothing. They make an untidy heap on the table next to my arm.

"Krycek, you’re not leaving, you can’t."

"Told you I was." I strap on my arm. "Have you found a radio or anything? It would be a good thing to take with us."

I knew it before he said it, that there wasn't one. He's transparent at times. The honesty that he values so preciously seems to infect his entire being. His actions were so easy to read that it was almost a joke. He's nothing like me. I can lie with the best of them. One of my few skills. If only I could get rid of the one that kept getting me into trouble.

While he was exasporatively putting on his clothes I cautiously approached the bedroom.

Whatever that thing was, was gone. The evil presence no longer felt like death, just like a memory inside the room. I searched through the dressers and closets for all the warm clothing I could find. My luck was with me when I found polar pants and a matching, oversized coat. The pair of them were a bright camouflage orange which made me feel like Barney's demented cousin.

Next I picked up a back pack and stuffed in some of the food stuff. Mainly it consisted of pry off lid objects. I wouldn't be able to use either the electric can opener or the manual one. If Mulder did come along I don't want to be dependent on him for opening whatever food I have.

I was half way out the door when Mulder asked me, "You're leaving?"

Have to give the man credit. It wasn't enough that he chased aliens around for a living but he was as thick as a post. "I want to believe" indeed.

"Told ya. Ta-ta," I said as I walked out the door.

* * *

Mulder watched Krycek leave in stunned amazement. He didn't think the young man was that foolish. Sure it had stopped snowing and it was light outside it still didn't change the fact that they were in the middle of nowhere. In all likely hood Krycek would die out there. Not only that but he would loose his prisoner.

Sure the two of them made a deal. Mulder wasn't going to arrest Krycek, he wasn't going to put him in a jail cell for the consortium to pick off like a duck in a shooting gallery. No, he was going to bring Krycek back and squeeze every bit of information he could out of the younger man.

Reluctantly Mulder commandeered one of the other garish polar suits out of the closet and started after the man.

It took a while to catch up with the man and when he did he was thankful he did give chase. He laughed as he watched Krycek wriggle on the ground as he tried to untangle himself from a root.

"Mulder, help me, god dammit!" Krycek screamed.

It was then that Mulder saw the root move to tangle itself around the younger man's torso. In only an instant Mulder was at Krycek's side pulling at the roots, trying to get him free.

* * *

I couldn't believe it when he started laughing at me. Here I was struggling with my life as the roots tried to pin me and he's laughing.

"Mulder, help me, god dammit!"

I think that got his attention because he rushed over to help. We weren't making any head way until I felt it. Like a hand that squeezed my rear and made it's way up my back.

The roots quickly entangled both me and him. They seemed to shoot out into the air from beneath the earth to surround us. In only seconds they had both me and Mulder pinned in a tangle.

But I forgot about the root because I had more important things on my mind, like my clothes.

It felt like someone was sucking on my nipple, pulling it and stretching it. I could feel the vibrations against them like someone was talking.

That’s when I lost it. I started fighting against the roots and my clothes, trying to get free. Instead my clothes suddenly got very, very tight. It felt like pinchers were gripping and grabbing at my skin. One hand of many slid along my thigh, along the inside curvature to insert, for all intents and purposes, a finger up my butt.

I’ve been felt up by many a thing, this is the first time my clothes have done this. I could feel an intrusion, rough and textured like my jeans push inside. I arched off, trying to get away from the intrusion but ran smack into the roots.

Mulder, only a foot away, was struggling with the thick roots, pushing them out of the way. I tried to imitate him, wriggling through the gaps in the roots. If I could just get free.

A moment later I did. The root prison behind me and I was on the ground trying to get my clothes off. I felt teeth along my collarbone pressing in. I screamed as I felt some sort of fluid leaking down my chest.

I ripped the polar suit off easily. It seemed my clothes underneath were the primary things *it* had taken over.

Some sort of face appeared in my shirt, only backwards. It pressed into my chest like some mad man trying to eat it’s way into my body. My pants, mean while were doing an interesting number that reminded me of the dressing scene in "The Devils Own."

I never liked that movie.

I tried getting my shirt off first but the fabric kept on snagging on the straps then it would move back down my body. I wasn’t getting anywhere.

Abandoning my shirt I started on my shoes. It was like trying to fight small snakes or worms because the shoe laces would not co-operate. I got one shoe off by toeing it off but the other one was too stubborn. Something grabbed me a little to hard in places, causing me to yelp, and so I went after my pants instead.

I had them around my ankles and was trying to pull them and my shoes off when Mulder finally came to the rescue.

I have never gotten undressed so fast with somebody’s help, even when I was hot and horny and about to have sex.

None of those items were on the menu for today.

Soon I was naked, shivering in the cold and watching my clothes for signs of life.

Instead I heard humming. Loud, deep humming, similar to the humming we heard back in the cabin right after it attacked.

"Where the hell is that thing?" I screamed.

"I don’t… Oh, shit, Krycek," Mulder said as he turned from my clothes to me. He pointed mutely at my arm.

I looked down, almost too afraid to look.

My arm was moving on it’s own. The prosthesis bubbled and pulsed like some balloon animal a kid was playing with. I immediately started undoing the straps, intent to get the thing off but I didn’t quite make it.

The thing split in two, dividing like the Red Sea into two pairs of hands. Two pairs of hands that went straight for my throat.

And Mulder’s just standing there. I guess you don’t see a man strangled to death by his own replacement body parts everyday.

The world was just going dark when Mulder snaps out of it to rip my prosthetic arm off and throws it to the ground. It starts flopping around like some dying fish before he pulls out the gun and shoots.

The fingers flail around, clawing at the ground right towards me, the bullet seemingly to have no effect.

Mulder shoots it again and again and again until the gun clicks empty. The arm flops one more time before it’s still.

I stare stunned at the mangled remains of my arm and my scattered clothes. Their strewn about the little clearing we’re in, the shirt hanging off a root that’s sticking out of the ground like gnarled fingers of the dead. I’m cold but the chill of the day is not what’s on my mind.

"You shot my arm." My voice sounds unnaturally loud in the aftermath of our struggle. "You shot my arm."

I feel hands on my but I don’t seem to have the energy to toss them off. I’m glad I didn’t a minute later when I find the polar coat Mulder was wearing descending warmly over my shoulders.

"You shot my arm."

My mind seemed to be stuck on that thought. Here I was in the middle of the forest freezing my ass and I’m stuck on a piece of myself that I hate anyway.

"You shot my arm, Mulder, you shot my arm."

"I know I did. Let’s get out of here," Mulder says as he’s leading me away from the scene of the crime. I have one last look of the mangled remains of my arm before we go.

"My arm, Mulder, you shot it."

And I realized I’m crazy; totally, hopelessly insane.

I’m reminded of Amy from high school. I met her at lunch one day. She reached over the table to shake my hand and said, "Hi, I’m Amy. I’m insane." I didn’t think much of it at the time. I thought it was some kind of in joke but as time wore on I realized that she had warning me. She was insane. She was a crazy that she proved time and time again but she was the most interesting, smartest person I have ever met. I talked with her for hours on what soap tasted like one day. I even skipped an event to finish the argument.

Mulder reminds me a lot of her. They both have that same wild intelligence, almost like an inner fire. It was something that I liked of Amy and later of Mulder. When I started my life on the run I could feel my sanity slipping. I didn’t worry because I wasn’t afraid of it. Insanity wasn’t something to worry about but almost something to look forward to.

After the missile silo I thought I accomplished it. There is nothing like being trapped in the dark for days on end thinking you’re going to die, especially like that to loose your grip on reality. I still have problems from that time. But the missile silo was the beginning, not the end.

Amy, on her 18th birthday bought a bottle of wine, a box of sleeping pills, and killed herself that night. I never understood why she did that.

Being here and now I realize why she did that. It wasn’t the insanity that had killed her, it was that it was no longer enough. There was only so much insanity could do, only so long that it could work. And I had nothing left. I had already sacrificed too much onto the altar of life. There was only so much I could do to prolong the inevitable.

And Mulder was here. He made the circle complete. It was so fucking ironic I nearly laughed but I couldn’t get a sound out from around my chattering teeth.

* * *

Mulder escorted Krycek back to the cabin. The younger man seemed defeated as he shivered in the polar fleece.

//Of course you can't imagine what it was like for him, to be attacked by his own clothes.//

Mulder shivered from more then just the cold.

The younger man was nearly blue by the time they got back to the cabin. There was no doubt that his feet were frozen solid because he leaned heavily on the older man as he stumbled like some blind man. Even if it was inviting *it* back Mulder should have made Krycek wear the shoes. If there was any evidence that *it* was possessing the shoes they could have left them behind. Now, as it was, Krycek may loose some toes, if not his feet because of their stupidity.

"Home again, home again, jiggidy jig," Krycek muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, home again," Mulder muttered back before pushing the door open.

Krycek stumbled in, nearly falling on the floor if it were not for Mulder's arms. Mulder practically carried Krycek the last few feet to dump him onto the sofa.

Next the older man striped off his own wet, cold clothes. He went into the bedroom to plunder the dresser. With half of their original clothing now abandoned in the wood, propriety was a lost cause. Mulder would leave a card for the owner so they could bill the FBI for everything they took.

He was a bit shocked to see Krycek in the same place in the living room where he had left him. Surely the man was cold.

"Krycek, you're going to have to move. If you don't you could die of hypothermia."

"You can leave now, Mulder." The young man waved his hand like a queen dismissing a subject. His eyes stared straight ahead like they were lasers trying to burn away a spot on the wall.

"Why the hell would I leave. It's almost dark out." Mulder kneeled down in front of Krycek to pull the frozen socks and dress pants off.

The only time they had stopped in the woods was to get something more then just the polar fleece onto Krycek. The snow pants, shoes, and dress jacket were all Mulder had but it seemed to have protected him better from the cold then what Krycek had.

"Then you'll leave in the morning," Krycek said in a bored, knowing voice.

"Krycek, I'm not leaving. It would be suicide."

Krycek laughed a mad, demented little laugh. His eyes twinkled with a merriment lost on Mulder.

"When did that ever stop you. No, Mulder, you'll be gone soon."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it's this point in the script that you leave me to the wolves, to fight or die. So far you've been true to form. Beat the shit out of me, accused me of everything from killing your father to causing the black plague, put me in a dangerous situation by your own stupidity, and now this is the part where you leave me to face the consequences."

"How do you figure that?"

Mulder started rubbing at the blue skin which caused Krycek to wince as the blood started flowing, just a little, back into the limb. He moved a heating unit closer, too, in an attempt to warm them both up.

"Third time's the charm, though I'm not sure whether the car bomb counts or not," Krycek said mainly to himself.

"Krycek, I don't follow. What are you talking about?"

"You know, this must be an opportunity of a lifetime. You have the chance to kill me free and clear. No witnesses and no one could blame you. A totally free choice to kill me without any of the guilt, after all it was that thing, that ghost or whatever that killed me, not you." Krycek paused just long enough to rub his hand over his face, rubbing a little to feel the prickle of unfreezing flesh. "I always thought you'd be the one to kill me. You know, just one day just go ahead and shoot. Or maybe punch a little too hard in the wrong place. Whatever, but still it would be you causing my death, my life in your hands. I think it's more fitting this way."

"Krycek, I think you're delusional. You need to get up and move around. You've lost oxygen to the brain and blood flow."

The words seemed to sink in a bit because Krycek got up to move into the other room to get some clothes. Mulder followed the stumbling man who continued to ramble.

"It's the last thing left. Every thing else has been taken away. My life, my survival was the last thing left and now that's been decided. I'm going to die out here."

"Nobodies going to die." Mulder pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

This Krycek had taken leave of all his senses and Mulder didn't know what to do. He missed the fighting spirit, the challenge the young man presented when ever he met him. While Mulder would love to leave out some of the consequences of their encounters, Krycek was an enigma that came every now and then to shake his life up. Krycek was almost an adrenaline addiction to him.

"But that's how it's going to work out." Krycek held up a hand to forestall any further comments. He just sat on the bed to put on the clothes he had pulled out of the dresser.

"I stopped being your partner, not by choice, and the next thing I know I'm running for my life with you thinking I killed your father and someone trying to kill me with a car bomb. Next I meet you in Hong Kong where I get infected by something and wake up in a locked missile silo waiting to die. Third time I meet you I end up in the gulag and everything else," Krycek gestured to his truncated limb.

"And how do you get from there to loosing your life?" Mulder asked. The strange parallelisms that Krycek had worked up seemed to make a demented sort of sense. Made him wonder if that kiss had more important meaning then just Krycek jerking him around.

"That's the only thing left to loose. I've lost everything else."

"What did you loose?"

The mental sparing seemed to have woken Krycek out of the blue funk he was in. Still, the young man did move as if he was a robot. But that wasn't the only reason Mulder kept on challenging him. Krycek was talking about his life, giving Mulder clues into the younger man. Maybe if he kept him talking he could finally figure out the puzzle Krycek presented Mulder.

"I lost my existence after we stopped being partners. My whole life, my dreams stopped and I was on the run. Clearly my sanity left at the missile silo." At this Krycek stopped to look at Mulder. His eyes a calm green like an algae covered pond. "Did you know I used to handcuff myself to the bed after that? I was so scared of waking up in that place again that I couldn't sleep in less I had a back up plan. I'd lock myself to the bed and leave the key across the room. If I wanted out I just called the front desk or some one would let me out in the morning. I even made the militia members check my eyes for oil before they unlocked me."

"I... I'm...."

"Don't say that!" Krycek screamed at him. "Don't you ever say that. I don't want your pity. I don't want you saying you're sorry. I just want you to understand, understand?"

Krycek had Mulder by the collar as he pushed him into the wall. The young man's eyes had changed from pond green to the roaring thunder of sea coast against cliffs. His nostrils were flaring like a horse that wouldn't be tamed.

"No I don't. I don't understand. Why do you want to die? Why, after everything else, would you let your self die?" Mulder yelled back, shoving Krycek away from him.

"Because that's the only thing *left.* Everything else has been taken away by you," Krycek pointed an accusing finger at Mulder. "My life, my existence in life, gone, destroyed, burned to ashes. My sanity, my hold on reality gone, buried, entombed, six feet under with no shovel in sight. And my body. What a laugh. It's been sliced, diced, torn, mown, and chopped. All that was left to me, the only thing I had left to hold onto was my life, my ties to mortal coils that will soon be ripped, torn, cut, and shredded. I don't want to die, not here, not now, but it's the only thing left, it's the only thing I can give."

Krycek sagged in on himself till there was nothing to do except thump against the wall and sag down to the floor. Mulder sat down next to him thinking of giving Krycek comfort, to quieten the soft exhalations.

Mulder put a hand around Krycek to draw him in but Krycek started and pulled away.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Don't touch me!" Krycek screamed as he scrambled away from Mulder, his fist poised to strike.

Mulder just growled and pounced on the younger man. They fought each other viciously, tearing into each other with a ferocity that was frightening. They rolled over and over in a hail of punches and grabs, of bites and kicks until Krycek's half frozen state and missing arm gave Mulder the advantage, allowing him to pin Krycek to the ground.

"Get the hell off me you prick!" Krycek screamed as he continued to bat at Mulder.

"Not until you stop to listen. You're not going to die. You're going to live and I'm going to take you to Washington so you can spill your weasely little guts," Mulder yelled back, trying his best to avoid the blows directed at him.

"I'm not going. I'm going to die right here and nothing you say can stop it."

Krycek continued to thrash under Mulder who was tiring of holding onto the struggling man. He did the next logical thing that came to mind.

He kissed Krycek.

Not on the cheek as Krycek had done to him back in his apartment. He leaned down and pressed his lips firmly to Krycek's.

The young man immediately froze and Mulder continued his explorations of Krycek's mouth. He tasted the sharp tang of salt and something that made him think of scorched metal. Deeper he dove into the hot mouth beneath him, like some deep sea diver searching for the lost city of Atlantis. The whole mouth seemed to explode with a riot of tastes and textures around his exploring tongue. It wasn't until air became necessary requirement to life that he broke off his attack.

Mulder looked down into the surprised eyes of his enemy. They looked so huge and green under his parusol. He was so lost in them that he didn't even fight when Krycek threw him off.

In stunned amazement Krycek stood facing Mulder. His fingers were barely brushing, just touching the lips that Mulder had been kissing moments before.

His eyes still wide and amazed turned their gaze from Mulder to the bedroom then back to Mulder. Krycek backed up into the bedroom, his eyes never leaving Mulder's until Krycek toed the door shut.

"Shit." Mulder pounded a fist into the floor.

* * *

I'm the devil, aren't I.

Nicole, you're up.