Something Wicked 7

***

Mulder huddled himself up into a tight ball, his legs back against his torso and his arms wrapped around his knees. He gazed out over at the sun rising over the ocean. He'd never thought he'd see that sight again with his beloved Alex. He was finally free. . . free of pain, shame and fear...free of Sterling Cain.

The sunrise laid out against the horizon in a magnificent red-gold carpet. Seagulls called to each other as the crystal, clear waves crashed against the hull of the boat. It was going to be a typically beautiful Bermudan day.

His throat constricting with emotion, he felt Alex's arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. Shutting his eyes, he leaned up against his lover. "Alex, I thought he'd end up killing me. I couldn't give in to him, I just couldn't. He wanted what I didn't have in me."

"Shh, Fox, it's okay. That's why I love you, because you don't have it in you to be broken. No one will ever own you."

"Except you, Alex. You're the only one my heart could ever belong to!" he murmured as he clustered up next to him.

"Yes, but I 'd never own you, Fox," Krycek murmured as he stroked his lover's hair. "There's a difference."

A tear slowly trickled out from the corner of Mulder's eyelid. "The bastard manipulated me, Alex, he told me that he'd let you live if I came to him willingly. I couldn't take that, Alex, I couldn't let him kill you. Everything else he took by force. However, I would never let him own me, I would have found a way to escape eventually, one way or another."

Krycek shuddered. The threat implicit in that remark didn't need to be elaborated upon. "I'm here now, baby, I'll protect you. I'll die before I let that sadistic monster get his hands on you again."

A flash of humor shone through Mulder's eyes. "No, the whole point is to live, Alex. Live long and live hard!" He grabbed his lover between legs, who started in surprise.

"That's pretty easy to do with you around, Fox!" Krycek smiled.

The two of them laughed together for the first time since the rescue. However, in another minute Mulder's mood turned somber again.

"I can't believe he escaped."

"I can't believe it either. Like I said, I want to tear him apart while he's still alive," Krycek muttered.

Mulder gave his lover an uncertain look. Alex rarely showed his vicious side to him, but Mulder was always aware of its presence. He hoped that he wouldn't get to see it in action, even against a monster like Cain.

Deciding to change the subject, he said, "How did you guys figure out where I was?"

Krycek shrugged. "We got his lackey, Rogers, in custody. That piece of shit wouldn't tell us where Cain was keeping you. So I employed other methods."

Startled, Mulder asked him, "Like what?"

"I'd rather not relate that to you, Fox."

Annoyed, Mulder yanked on his lover's arm to make him face him. "Alex, what did you do?"

Chagrined, Krycek told him. "That Cain was mixed up with the Consortium at one point. They were able to tell me where he was."

A chill went down Mulder's spine. "Who told you where he was? It wasn't—"

"Fox, baby, there ended up being only one way to get you out of there. I was going to do it or die trying. You know that I would've done anything I could to find you."

Mulder shook his head sadly. "I know, love, you saved my life. I just hope those bastards don't demand anything from you in return. They don't parcel out favors for free."

Krycek reflected on the reason why CSM was willing to help him. There was no way he would ever relate his suspicions about it to Mulder, especially in his current brutalized state. He decided to fend off the question and hope that Fox never found out the real reason. "Baby, don't worry about me so much. When we get back to the hotel, you'll have something to eat and then rest. As soon as you're ready, it's off to the doctor to get those fucking things removed."

"I—"

"You're going to argue with me, babe?" Krycek cooed at him, stroking his cheek. "Doesn't ol' Alex know what's best for his babykins?"

Mulder rolled his eyes. "If you expect me to eat breakfast after hearing you talk like that, you've got another thought coming!"

Krycek laughed to himself as he hugged Mulder close to him. He was more than ecstatic to see signs of the old Mulder rising to the surface. Once they got away from this cursed island, Mulder should return to himself in no time.

***

When they pulled into the dock in Bermuda, Skinner was waiting there with Sheriff Stark. He wore an angry, pensive expression on his face.

"Uh oh, the cavalry's here to welcome the heroes home! Let me handle this, Fox," Alex murmured to an anxious Mulder as he leaned over to gather up the docking line.

The Captain stuck his head out of the cabin to indicate to Krycek that he should throw the rope to Skinner, who grabbed it angrily as Krycek threw it to him. Skinner then secured it to the dock. Turning back to Krycek, he bellowed, "What the hell did you think you were doing, racing off on your own like that when you were released on my recognizance, you idiot?"

Instead of getting angry, Krycek gave him a warm smile. "We found Fox, that's why we went off, Skinner! Look who's here, Stark, back from the dead…Special Agent Fox Mulder, safe and sound."

Before Skinner could react, Scully appeared from below. "Sir, Krycek and I rescued Mulder from that monster Cain! Krycek did take off on his own, and I followed. Good thing I did, he would've been fish bait when Cain was threw with him."

Krycek smiled at her, nodding his head in agreement. "That's the way to put it, Junior, you certainly did save my butt! Look, Skinner, I'd love to stay and chitchat with the two of you but Mulder has been through utter hell. We're going back to the hotel for the next few hours, and then we'll talk."

Skinner scowled at the triple agent but his expression softened considerably when he gazed at Mulder and saw how thin and drawn the agent's face looked. "You need to be examined by a doctor, Mulder! And what the hell happened to Cain?"

Krycek winced. This was his least favorite part of the discussion. "He…he got away from us, Skinner."

"Got away? You let that sick perp get away?"

Scully intervened, Skinner looked like he was ready to explode. "It wasn't Krycek's fault, sir, he had some sort of secret passageway. He disappeared before we could react, and frankly, our main priority was getting Mulder out of there."

"You're right, Scully, of course," Skinner said, deflated. He was miserable at the sight of Mulder looking so exhausted and defeated. "Mulder, how are you doing?"

"I'm alive, sir, that's all I care about right now. I appreciate your coming down here to help find me."

Mulder looked so forlorn that it tore at Skinner's heartstrings. "Of course I'd come down here when one of my agents is in trouble! Mulder, we'll find the bastard who did this to you, I promise!"

"Look, Skinner, you've been great and all that, but Mulder needs rest right now. We'll talk later, you know where we are, we're not going to skip town or anything," Krycek promised. He put his arm around Mulder's shoulders to pull him close.

Sheriff Stark spoke. "We'll need a statement from you at some point, Mr. Mulder." He turned to Krycek, his face a mask of contrition. "Sorry I doubted you, Mr. Krycek. I feel rather foolish falling for that setup, hook, line and sinker."

"Yeah, well, next time look before you leap, Stark!" snapped Krycek, not feeling inclined to be generous.

Stark flushed while Krycek gently guided Mulder away. The three of them watched the two men leave, and then Stark turned to Skinner. "There's a question of what to do with Rogers, we now have Mr. Mulder back and he can identify him."

"We'll bring him to the bastard when he comes to the station to make his statement. Perhaps if we can raise the heat on the worm, he'll be less willing to protect Cain."

Scully spoke. "He may even be able to tell us where Cain went when he escaped."

The two men looked at her in surprise. She continued, "Well, think of it, sir, his own personal valet. He probably knows every residence and bank account Cain has in the world. Don't you think?"

Skinner sighed in exasperation. "The problem is getting him to spill that valuable information, Agent Scully! No matter, we have Mulder back in one piece, and that's what counts the most."

The three of them left the pier, silent and somber, each weighted down with dark thoughts of the abuse Mulder must have suffered at Cain's hands and the sense of their own futility.

Dr. Francis Hayden's Office

Hamilton, Bermuda

10:AM

Mulder left the doctor's office walking gingerly. The doctor had removed all of Cain's piercings with special implements and conducted a thorough examination of his patient. He'd been relieved to find that Mulder hadn't torn or ruptured internally during his travails with Cain. Someone from Stark's staff had been there earlier to record Mulder's injuries and taken snapshots of the piercings for when the case went to trial. He and Dr. Hayden performed all the examinations and lab tests required by Bermudan law in rape cases, preserving Cain's DNA on slides to send to the police lab.

He'd given Mulder prescriptions for pain killers and antibiotic ointments to help aid the healing. "Mr. Mulder, I'm sure telling you how sorry I am must seem inconsequential after what you've been through. I can only tell you that Sheriff Stark is a good man. He'll bring this criminal to justice, I'm sure," Dr. Hayden sadly reassured him. He'd never seen anything like the injuries Mulder suffered in all his years practicing. The whip marks, the inflamed anus, the bizarre piercings. . .Dr Hayden couldn't imagine what kind of person would get pleasure out of inflicting such pain on another human being.

Mulder managed a feeble smile, even as he fought back tears. "Thank you, Dr. Hayden. I'm happy to finally be heading back home."

When he went out into the waiting room, clutching the prescription slips in his hand, Alex was waiting for him with an anxious expression on his face. "Everything out, Fox?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes," Mulder responded wearily. "It sure wasn't as painful getting rid of all the hardware as it was going in. Or maybe I'm just getting to be an expert at enduring pain. Could help me out in my job, at any rate."

Krycek's throat tightened up. "Fox—"

"Alex, forget it. I just want to get out of here and get ready to go home."

Krycek cleared his throat. He'd love to leave Bermuda behind them too, but there was unfinished business they had to attend to. "I'm sorry, Fox, but Skinner wants you down at the police station to make a statement on what happened to you. There's also the case of that shit, Rogers. You need to identify him. Plus, Scully thinks he knows how we can get to Cain—"

Mulder had gone dead white. Krycek jumped up and reached out to grab him, afraid that he would collapse. "Oh baby, if it's too much, I'll tell them to go fuck themselves—"

"NO!" Mulder reached out to clench Krycek's shoulder. "No, Alex. If there's a chance to string up that bastard, we've got to take it. The only thing that kept me going when I was his captive was the thought of you killing him. Now that I'm free, the thought of bringing him to justice is what's keeping me from falling apart. We've got to do it. . .otherwise the bastard will be soon be kidnapping and torturing some other innocent victim!"

Krycek stared off in amazement. Mulder was already out the door, ready for his encounter with Rogers. Krycek gritted his teeth in anger as he followed his lover. He wondered if he would be able to restrain himself from ripping the bastard's lungs out, at least until Rogers could reveal Cain's whereabouts.

Hamilton Police Station

Bermuda

10:30

Mulder handed the report he'd filled out to Sheriff Stark. He hadn't gone into as much detail as the sheriff would have preferred, but he had itemized enough of the horrors he'd went through with Cain to suffice for the investigation.

"Thank you, Mr. Mulder," Sheriff Stark said, taking the report from him. "Now, if you please, we need you to identify Rogers."

Krycek intervened. "Is this really necessary, Stark? Mulder's been traumatized enough!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mulder, but if we can't get Cain, at least we can put Rogers away. I'm sure you agree."

"Yes, I do," Mulder agreed, silencing Krycek with a scowl. "You can take me to see him now."

Stark led the two men through a long corridor to the interrogation room. As they entered, Mulder saw that both Skinner and Scully were present.

Skinner came over to them. "Rogers is still contesting the charge. He's planning on pleading 'not guilty.' However, with you and now Mulder here to identify him, we've got an open and shut case."

"Did you tell him that we found Mulder?" Krycek asked.

Skinner gave him a fiendish smile. "No, I figured I'd save that little surprise!"

When Mulder turned to face Rogers, it was clear from the stunned expression on the man's face that he had had no clue that Mulder had escaped from Cain. He sat there in shocked silence as he gazed upon the ethereal Adonis of his dreams, his mouth gaping open and shut, drawing in air like a beached fish.

However, it took no more than a few seconds for Cain's associate to regain his composure. He leered at the agent, greeting him with a "Mr. Mulder! I almost didn't recognize you. . .in clothing, that is!"

As Mulder flushed with humiliation, Krycek lunged towards Rogers, ready to strangle the man with his bare hands. Skinner blocked him and turned back to the valet. "WELL! You've just given us the evidence we need to convict you, Rogers! You scumbag! You kidnapped Mulder, framed an innocent man for his supposed murder! And how many others did you do this to, Rogers? How many?" Skinner bellowed, fit to kill.

Rogers shrugged. "Mr. Skinner, you surely know that I am merely an accessory. You cannot pin the entire affair on me—"

"Oh can't I? When as far as you're concerned, this Sterling Cain doesn't exist? If you tell me how to get Cain—"

"You can forget that avenue, Mr. Skinner! Oh really, this entire discussion is getting tiresome!" Rogers rolled his eyes, affecting an air of jaded boredom.

"Skinner, give me a moment alone with him," Krycek spoke with deadly calm.

"Alex, what are you going to do?" Mulder asked him warily.

"I'm not going to kill him, if that's what you're worried about! Not yet, at any rate," Krycek whispered back to them. "Just five minutes. That's all I'm asking."

Skinner looked at Scully, who shrugged and then nodded her agreement. They'd spent several hours with Rogers and had gotten nowhere. She was inclined to give Krycek a chance, though she didn't approve of his methods. . .well, not usually, at any rate.

"Okay, Krycek, talk to the man," Skinner snarled. "But I'm right outside the door. And remember, he's our only means to get to Cain. . ."

"Skinner, I said I wasn't going to kill him!" Krycek exclaimed, raising his voice so Rogers could hear. "C'mon, trust me!"

After the three of them reluctantly left the room, Krycek turned to Rogers, giving him a bright smile. The man regarded him keenly, much like a cobra trying to anticipate an especially shrewd mongoose's next move.

Krycek took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. "Care to smoke?"

"Yes, thank you, I believe I would."

As Rogers lit up a cigarette, Krycek sat down, leaning back and putting his feet up on the table that separated them. He watched Rogers smoke, looking perfectly at ease. "Rogers, did Cain ever tell you of his attempted initiation into a certain organization, a very powerful organization. . .referred to by its members merely as the Syndicate?"

Rogers shifted uncomfortably. "I believe that he did talk about an organization that wanted him as a member, yes. It was around ten years ago."

Krycek sat up. "You do remember. I certainly appreciate a man with a good memory! Does the name C.G.B. Spender mean anything to you?"

When Rogers looked blank, Krycek continued. "Old man, appreciated a good smoke…like yourself?"

Recognition dawned on Rogers. "Yes, yes, I do. He visited Mr. Cain once. What about him?"

"You son-of-a-bitch! Do you know what these men will do to you because of what you did to Mulder?" Krycek snarled loudly as he jumped out of his chair to stand menacingly over Rogers, startling him into dropping ash on himself. "You think you're such a smooth bastard, 'I'm just an accessory, Mr. Skinner.' 'I wasn't the brains behind it, Mr. Mulder!'" he said, mimicking Rogers' English-accented tones. "For your goddamn-fucking information, MISTER Rogers," he continued, practically spitting in his rage, "the Syndicate doesn't give a rat's ass as to what your involvement was but when they get through with you, you'll be happy to die!"

"I have no idea where Cain is, MISTER Krycek," seethed Rogers.

"Well, you'd better get an idea! Because whereever you are, Rogers…I don't care if it's the maximum-security, protected custody, even solitary confinement setup, their goons will find you. They'll find you. And believe me. . .you stupid son-of-a-bitch, they will tear you to shreds. Shreds! You messed with the wrong man, Rogers! Your corpse will be unrecognizable when they're done with you!" bellowed Krycek. He loomed over Rogers, shaking with rage, ready to start the Consortium's work at the slightest instigation.

Rogers glared up at him. After a long silence, he sighed in defeat. "Cain owns eight residences. One is in Vevey, Switzerland—"

"Write it down, you scumbag," Krycek snapped, shoving a pad and a pen at the valet.

The room was silent except for the scratching sound of Rogers writing with his pen. When he finished, he tossed the pad towards Krycek. "Now you've got Cain, Mr. Krycek," Rogers sneered. "All happy now?"

Krycek looked over the list. "Hardly! Not unless you tell us which place he would be most likely to flee to?"

Rogers shook his head. "You're the bright boy, Krycek, you figure it out."

"Rogers, Rogers," Krycek tsked in mock sorrow. "Now you've got Cain mad at you as well as the Consortium. You'd better go the distance, buddy, if you're gonna go it at all!"

Rogers sighed. "How about immunity?"

Krycek laughed scornfully. "That little carrot that Skinner dangled in front of your face? You should have grabbed it when it was offered to you the first time. Sorry, but it's too late for that, shithead—"

"Not if you drop the charges."

Krycek sat up. He hadn't thought of that one. "Hmmm. I can't speak for Mulder, but I suppose I could. How do I know you'll be telling me the truth?"

"Do it after you find Cain," Rogers offered, knowing he was playing with a deck loaded against him.

Krycek smiled. If Rogers thought he was going to get away scot free, the man was completely insane. However, Krycek found that he was enjoying this discussion way more than he had anticipated. "You're a creative man for a crook and a killer. Need a new employer, by any chance?"

Rogers offered him his hand. "We have a deal?"

Krycek shook his hand. "Sure we do. . .if I remember! Ha ha, just kidding, we all have to have our little jokes now and then, don't we, Rogers? To keep us human?"

Rogers ignored him. "He'll be in Paris, Mr. Krycek. He'll go to Paris, it's where he always goes when he's. . .had a disappointment."

"Gotcha," Krycek responded, already informing CSM in his mind. There were days when it came in very handy to be aligned with a shadow organization.

He stood up. "One more thing, Rogers. I just want you to know, if I ever see you within a hundred miles of Mulder again, I'll personally rip your balls off and feed them to you. Comprenez-vous?"

Rogers sniffed. "You're such a refined creature, Mr. Krycek. Don't worry, my traveling days to the States are over, especially to your fair city. I find that I don't particularly care for the habits of the residents."

Krycek let out a snort of laughter. You really had to appreciate the man's nerve, he thought to himself as he left the room with pad in hand to tell Mulder and Skinner the good news.

***

Paris, France

Forty-Eight Hours later

Le Renard Rouge

Cain downed another brandy, trying in vain to forget the reason he'd arrived in Paris early the previous morning. His hands tightened into fists of rage as he recalled how he was ousted from his own private sanctuary, and his most precious slave stolen from him by that damned Alex Krycek.

"I should have killed the bastard when I had the chance," he said aloud. Several patrons eyed him suspiciously and moved away from him, as the Parisians often have a greater grasp of the English language than they allow for tourists.

Cain didn't care. He couldn't believe how many mistakes he'd made in his acquisition of Fox Mulder. His most perfect slave, and everything had gone wrong from the start. His darling slave's obsession with Krycek, that fool Rogers' bungling of Krycek's assassination attempt, and the valet's subsequent disappearance had been just a few of the hurdles he had faced. As soon as Rogers surfaced, he was as good as dead as far as Cain was concerned. The fool should have killed Krycek at the beginning, it was Rogers' fault that he underestimated the man. It would have shut off Mulder's avenue of escape and helped his sweet slave to relinquish his obsession much sooner, the obsession that kept him from totally giving himself over to Cain.

Alex Krycek was still a mystery to Cain. Did he work for the FBI himself? He'd invaded his mansion with a young woman that fit the description of Mulder's partner, and the man certainly seemed at ease holding a gun. Damn! If only he'd been more on his guard, Krycek's body would be decomposing at the bottom of the ocean, and he would be at home right now enjoying his beloved Fox.

Suddenly he caught the eye of a slender, dark-haired man across the bar. The young man smiled in open invitation. Cain blinked in disbelief. What a beauty! He was practically a carbon copy of his darling Fox. Hazel eyes, slender build, aquiline nose…the man was very nearly as beautiful as his Fox had been. However, he lacked the aura of sensuality that Fox Mulder possessed…that certain something that had driven Cain out of his mind with desire.

He rubbed his eyes, thinking he was seeing an apparition of his lost love. When he opened them, the young man was making his way towards Cain, fixing him with a predatory stare.

The dark-haired man stood in front of Cain, appraising him. He addressed him in French. "Américain?"

"No, English."

"Tu es ici pour t'amuser, L'Anglais?" the dark-haired man asked him suggestively, his hand lightly stroking down the front of his body.

Cain's eyes followed the movement. He looked up and smiled. "That depends on what you have in mind, mon chou!"

The dark-haired man smiled. "Follow me, monsieur."

Cain followed the man out the back door of the bar. They traveled down a narrow alleyway to the back lot of what looked like a ramshackle and deserted building. "Is this necessary? Wouldn't you rather go back to my very capacious abode?"

"Non, mon trésor, here will do just fine for what we have to do," the young man answered him teasingly.

He leaned in to kiss Cain, pursing up lips that weren't quite as full and luscious as his Fox's but were more than adequate. Cain was already hard. He grabbed the young man's hand and put it full on his erection, who murmured in approval before he kissed Cain fiercely.

Cain cried out through the kiss as he felt a thick needle drive itself into his shoulder. He threw the man down and reached for his own knife, but the man got up quickly and kicked him hard in the groin. As Cain doubled over in agony, the dark-haired man took the knife with a gloved hand and threw it away.

He looked down at Cain with an air of fastidious disgust. "Even such a death as this one is too good for you, Monsieur Cain!"

"Who are you?"

"That is not important. It is not 'who' but 'why' that matters. You will die in agony from a poison for which there is no cure. As to why…why is because of the extreme displeasure that you've brought to Fox Mulder's father, resulting from your most brutal treatment of his son!"

"His-his father?"

The dark-haired man sniffed. "Yes, Mr. Cain. His father. . .Mr. Charles Garrett Browning Spender!"

"Noooo! I had no idea!"

The dark-haired man frowned. "Whether you had an idea or not is no longer of any consequence. Good day, Mr. Cain. It was a pleasure making your acquaintance."

Cain screamed as he felt the poison invade his bloodstream with scorching, red-hot agony. He screamed and screamed as he collapsed and rolled and writhed on the ground, slapping at himself as if he could stop the burning by sheer physical force. It was almost as if corrosive acid was flowing through his veins, devouring his body from within.

At last there was one long, earsplitting scream, reverberating throughout the alleyway, startling the pigeons from their perches upon the rooftops . . .and then all went silent.

The dark-haired man abruptly left the alley without giving the dead man on the ground a second glance.

Washington, DC

Mulder's Apartment

Krycek swung open the door to Mulder's apartment and carried in their bags, with Mulder following closely behind. Byers was standing over Mulder's aquarium and jumped when he saw Mulder and Krycek enter.

Byers walked over to Mulder with a joyful expression on his face. "Mulder, buddy! It's great to see you!"

"Hello, Byers," Mulder said wearily. He collapsed onto the sofa. "Whaddya doing here?"

Byers looked anxiously at Krycek, who shrugged back at him. "Just feeding your fish, like you asked me too. How are you doing, Mulder? We were worried about you. . ."

"Fine, Byers. Actually, I'd really rather not talk about it right now if you don't mind," Mulder responded, getting up and walking into his bedroom.

Byers looked consternated. "Is he okay, Alex?"

"No, he's not okay!" Krycek snapped. His face softened when he saw Byer's distressed look. "Not through any fault of yours, pal. There's not much of anything any of us can do for him right now."

"Did they find the bastard who did it to him?"

"Oh, they found him all right," Krycek responded grimly. The Paris police chief had called an hour before their flight home with the news that Cain's body had been found in an alleyway in Paris, right near a bar ironically called "The Red Fox."

After his initial relief at the news that Cain was no longer a threat to him, Mulder had become suspicious of the way Cain had died. After the Paris police confirmed the use of poison, Mulder immediately realized that Krycek had intervened and used the Consortium to kill Cain. Mulder had been determined to bring his tormentor to justice, while Krycek had wanted to do anything under the sun to avoid further trauma and humiliation to Mulder.

"It's out of our hands, Fox, there's nothing you can do about it now," Krycek had tried to reason with him.

"This isn't the way to handle things, Alex, when will you understand that?" Mulder had yelled at him.

Krycek shook his head. He had reminded Mulder that he himself had wanted Cain dead from the start, and Krycek would have killed him if the man hadn't escaped. Mulder had gradually come to accept Krycek's side of the argument, but it had taken awhile. The agent still didn't agree with his methods.

Krycek was concerned. He knew that CSM wouldn't let Rogers live either. In an early morning call to the smoker, he had requested that Rogers be killed in some sort of "accident" so he wouldn’t have any more problems with Mulder. Mulder was due to fly back for Rogers' trial, and Krycek didn't want him to suspect that Krycek had anything to do with Rogers' disappearance or death, even though Mulder despised the valet with all his heart.

CSM had been amused to say the least at Krycek's concern. "Are we trying to have our cake and eat it too, dear boy?"

Krycek blushed at the smoker's insinuating tone. "At least try to make it look less like a hit, Spender, okay?"

"Such a little pantywaist. All right, we'll arrange for him to be let out on bail, and then how about a drowning? We'll put a tail on him and then when they get near the water—"

"I don’t want to know about it!" He could still hear Spender chuckling as he hung up the phone.

Mulder had sat glum and silent for the plane flight home. He snapped at any questions or concerns directed towards him by Krycek or Scully. He answered anything Skinner asked him respectfully, but his gaze was unfocused, his mind a thousand miles away. He seemed numb, shellshocked, as if he were just going through the barest motions of existing.

Skinner had taken Krycek aside before they left Bermuda. "I don't want you to leave him alone, Krycek," he said tersely. "If you have to leave, call me or Scully to take over for you. Understood? I'll wring your neck if you don't listen to me!"

Instead of getting angry, Krycek sadly agreed. "Don't worry, Skinner, there's no way in hell I'm leaving him alone." They were all deeply worried about Mulder's psychological state.

Now here they were back in D.C., with a very long road to recovery ahead of them. . .if Mulder could ever truly recover from his encounter with Cain. "You'd better leave, Byers," Krycek said. "No offense, but he's in no mood to deal with anyone."

"Okay," Byers said forlornly, "Call us if you need anything."

After Byers left, Krycek went in to check on Mulder. He found his lover lying on the bed, with his face buried in his pillow. He sat down on the side of the bed and ran his fingers through Mulder's hair.

Mulder sighed as he curled up around Krycek and moved his head to Krycek's lap. "Alex," he moaned piteously as he wrapped his arms around his lover.

"I know, Fox, I know," Krycek responded with tears in his eyes, trying to keep his voice calm as he lovingly stroked his head. Mulder's shattered tone of voice broke his heart. He was so enraged at Cain and his crew. Death was too good for any of them. He resolved to hunt down each man involved in Mulder's kidnapping and make sure each one died a slow, painful death.

Mulder's voice brought him out of his fantasy of revenge. "I feel like my insides have been torn right out of my body and stomped on."

"Baby, you can't let that bastard win—"

"I feel like I've lost a piece of myself, Alex. I'll never be the same again."

"It'll take time, Fox," Krycek urged. "You've only been free of that scum for a few days."

"No, Alex," Mulder's eyes filled with tears. "I feel dead inside. He's killed me. Cain's killed me. I'll never enjoy life again!"

Krycek held Mulder while he cried. Mulder cried for all the losses of his entire life and especially for the loss of who he had been and for what he had had with Alex. He cried until he finally wore himself out and fell asleep on the bed, still dressed.

Krycek quietly disengaged himself and stood up. He was filled with dread as he watched Mulder sleep. He desperately wanted Mulder to fight back, to resist the feelings of despair and devastation that were the result of his torture by Cain, but Krycek didn't want to have unreasonable expectations of his lover. The psychological and physical torture must be have been terrible for Mulder, he reflected, to be sexually abused again and again, to be cut off from all his emotional supports, to be whipped and tortured and to completely lose any sense of hope that he'd be rescued.

He wished he could drag Cain back from the dead and kill him all over again. He knew from his Consortium contacts that Cain had died in agony from a poison exclusive to the organization. It was small solace to Krycek. He still thought the death was too easy for a being such as Cain.

He sighed. The last thing Mulder needed was Krycek feeling completely enraged and vengeful. He loved Mulder so much he couldn't see straight. To see his lover hurting and not be able to do anything to help him was enough to drive him mad. Gentleness, patience, and sensitivity were never Krycek's strong points, but it was what Mulder needed the most from him right now, and Krycek was determined to deliver in any way he could.

He went to the kitchen and opened the freezer. Sure enough, the bottle of Stolichnya was still there from before their ill-fated trip to Bermuda eons ago. He poured some into a juice glass and went over to look through the mountain of mail that Byers had stacked neatly on the coffee table.

It was mainly junk mail and bills, a few letters, one from Mulder's mother. He didn't want to open anything without Mulder's permission. If Krycek had to take care of Mulder's bills while he recuperated that was fine, but not until he explicitly told Krycek that was what he wanted.

There was a stapled-up flier that had a scrabbled handwriting on the outside. Krycek was ready to toss it in the trash when he noticed the name on the return address. He did a doubletake. The name was Nikolai Ivanovitch, one of the Russian emigres that Krycek had contacted before they left for Bermuda, a unsavory character who had in the past worked various low-rent county fairs and carnivals as a psychic-cum-fortune-teller.

The flier was an advertisement for the Cimmerian and Mueler's Carnival and Masque in North Carolina. Did this have anything to do with the damn carousel that caused Mulder and Scully's age regression? Heart pounding, he quickly dialed Nikolai's phone number.

As soon as the man answered the phone, Krycek attacked him. "What the fuck are you doing, just mailing some stupid flier to Mulder? Why didn't you contact me like I told you to?"

A chuckle greeted him. "Really, Alexei, you should be impressed that I even recalled that you asked me about the blasted carnival! And you weren't the interested one, your friend was."

"What the hell good is it to him now?"

"Come on, Alexei! Don't be so pessimistic! Didn't you even look at the date of the damned thing?"

Krycek looked at the flier. In shock, he realized that the carnival was going on this weekend, several days away. "I can't fucking believe it."

"Believe it, baby. You can bring your little cherub and have him come back a man. Aren't you pleased? I get a kiss for my efforts, da?"

"How the hell do you know about this?" Krycek asked suspiciously.

"I have my means and ways, chickie. You should wonder more about how you're going to repay me. I have many mutually pleasurable ways in mind—"

"Go to hell, Ivanovitch," Krycek snapped tiredly. The man's needling was getting to him in his wired state even though he knew he should feel appreciative. "Are you sure that the carnival is going to be there?"

"Of course, I'm sure, Alexei! I don't waste my time on such things unless I know I'm sure," Nicolai scoffed. "And you should watch that nasty attitude of yours. I predict that one day you're going to run up against a big, bad Daddy who isn't going to take the kind of crap you dish out!"

As angry as Krycek was, he couldn't prevent a shiver of dread from traveling down his spine. He'd always thought that Nikolai's claim to be able to forecast the future was hogwash, but after experiencing Mulder's premonitions of Cain, he didn't feel like tempting fate. "Okay, okay, I'm grateful. Look, Nikolai, I appreciate your finding the carnival for me but Mulder's in bad shape. I'll get in touch with you after we get him back to his old self."

"Yeah, sure," Nikolai responded sullenly. "Just remember you owe me one, Krycek!"

After he hung up the phone, Krycek went back into the bedroom to wake Mulder. "Baby, wake up, come on, we found the carnival!"

Mulder stirred and opened his eyes. He'd been lightly dozing, half-afraid to recede into a deep sleep and face the inevitable nightmares. "Wha? You found what?"

Krycek handed him the flier. "That damn carnival that made you so young! Next stop is Carlton, North Carolina...this weekend!"

"This weekend, Jesus!" Mulder sat up, fully awake, staring at the flier in disbelief. "Are you sure it's the right one?"

"My contact swears it is. What have we got to lose, babe? You want to go back to the way you were, don't you?"

"Of course I do! God, I don't believe this, Alex! You saved my ass again! Let me call Scully," Mulder exclaimed as he grabbed the phone.

As Krycek went back into the living room to get their suitcases, he heard Mulder talking excitedly to Scully, already making plans for the trip down south. The prospect of returning to his old self had certainly worked wonders on Mulder's state of mind, Krycek reflected with more than a little relief.

Two Days Later

Carlton Fairgrounds

5:30 A.M.

"Are you sure you want to change back to your former age, Mr. Mulder?" the austere figure asked Mulder with a grim smile.

Mulder put a restraining hand on Krycek's arm. The man he was so insanely in love with was so jumpy lately, he sighed to himself. It was just one more casualty of his torturous encounter with Cain that Mulder had to deal with.

They had started on their journey to North Carolina shortly after learning of the supernatural carnival's whereabouts. Scully had been excited at the prospect of being able to return to her previous age. However, when she arrived early the next morning with no traveling bag, Mulder had looked at her questioningly.

She reddened under his scrutinizing gaze. "I'm sorry, Mulder, I'm going to have to cop out."

Mulder gave his lover a warning glance when Krycek snorted derisively. "Why would you do that, Scully?"

She shook her head. "Think about it, Mulder. What do I have to go back to? I won't be able to have children. I'll have that chip in my neck, hopefully preventing my cancer, but who knows how the damn thing functions and if it'll continue to function. That's it, Mulder. That's what I have to look forward to. . .cancer, sterility, and being almost twice this age. I know this fountain of youth experience hasn't been a picnic for you to put it mildly, but I'm having second thoughts."

Before Mulder could react, she continued, "And third and fourth and fifth thoughts!"

"Are you sure, Scully? You'd better be sure, Dana Katherine Scully, because you might not get another chance!"

"Oh, I'm sure, Mulder!" she said, nodding her head emphatically. "Are you sure?"

"I'm 100% sure," Mulder responded, putting his arm around Krycek's shoulders.

"Well, that's great! I hope it works out for you. Be careful of Mueller. I have no idea what that man is, but it surely isn't anything benign."

"I think he's already proven that to be the case!" Mulder retorted. "So, what are you going to do with this newfound youth?"

She shrugged. "Well, I don't know right now, Mulder. Maybe I'll go back to school, do a residency...the sky's the limit. I've always been interested in the workings of the human mind. Maybe I'll do a residency in psychiatry."

"You're not getting me on the couch!"

Scully had laughed. "I wouldn't dream of it, Mulder. I think I'd want patients I have a hope in hell of figuring out!"

Mulder turned his attention back to Mueller, who was looking at him with a peculiar smile on his face. "Yes, I'm sure!"

"Well, then, Mr. Mulder. In order to obtain the results you wish for, you must leave the carousel after ten rotations. You will get one chance. I am being generous in offering you that much," Mueller chuckled.

Krycek's hands tightened into fists. "What happens if he doesn't get off in time?"

"He will age too much. Mr. Mulder, I gave you the most wonderful gift, and here you are ready to throw it all away. And it is dangerous...if you find you can't get off, you might be very sorry with the results. Please think carefully about this," Mueler said gravely, but his eyes were dancing.

"You bastard! Fox had better not end up an old man!" Krycek snarled, ready to tackle the man, regardless of the mysterious power he possessed. He was restrained by Mulder's grip on his arm but just barely.

"Alex, please! He's our only chance. It will be fine, don't worry," Mulder pleaded, his pulse racing, trying to convince himself as well as his lover.

"Fox, maybe we should forget it," Krycek said nervously. "I don't want you getting hurt!"

"No, I want to do this," Mulder responded firmly.

Mulder climbed up onto the carousel platform while Krycek stood nervously by one side. He touched the carousel horses, fiery-eyed but inanimate, permanently frozen in a snorting, stomping position. He shuddered, remembered how they came alive before. They were currently no different from the merry-go-round horses he remembered from his childhood, riding carousels in the few amusement parks his parents deigned to take him to.

"Mr. Mulder, when you pass the brass ring for the tenth rotation, jump off."

Mulder nodded his consent, and Mueler started the carousel, which lurched forward this time. Mueler was still smiling that cunning little smile. The man had a sinister aura, such that Mulder wondered belatedly if he was crazy to trust him. What sort of being was Mueler, anyway, that he could engender such change in human beings?

Immediately the carousel came alive, the horses whinnying frantically. Mulder was allowed a split second to contemplate this when he was surrounded by electricity. He screamed, it was no easier the second time. He couldn't see anything over the white blaze of pain.

Fox Mulder, you are mine.

Where had that voice come from? In his pain, Mulder searched around frantically for the speaker.

You will stay on the carousel and belong to me. You are the one I've waited for, wanted since the beginning.

Mulder screamed. It was Cain's voice, but it wasn't. He saw a dark image of Mueler's face before him, laughing, laughing at him and his gullibility.

He resisted the luring undertow of Mueler's voice as he was being electrocuted. Where was the brass ring? He'd just passed it for the first time.

No, my love, I'm not laughing at you. I'm happy that you finally came to me. Stay on the carousel and become mine. You will never age, you will be immortal. Stay with me.

"No!" Mulder screamed, resisting with all his might. His limbs felt frozen in place by the electricity and the seductive allure of the carnival master's voice.

The horses stomping and stamping, the carousel rotating so that everything outside of it was a blur, he barely knew where he was. All he could see was Mueler's face, taunting, teasing, overpowering his will.

Suddenly an image of Alex's face came to mind, eyes reddened, his face terrible with pain, and he cried out once more. Using every atom of strength that existed in his entire body, Mulder threw himself off the carousel platform and into blissful darkness.

****

Mulder opened his eyes to the exact image of Alex that he'd had before he jumped off the carousel. His lover looked terrible, as if he'd lived through the worst tragedy of his life. His eyes were red with crying, and his face wore an anguished expression.

"Fox, baby!" Krycek exclaimed with relief when he saw Mulder was conscious. "I'd thought I'd lost you!"

Mulder touched Krycek's face. Alex looked like he'd been scared shitless. It took a lot to shake up his lover, he must have been truly terrified.

"What did you see, Alex?"

"You were gone from sight the minute the carousel starting moving," Krycek responded tonelessly. "I couldn't see you at all, it was all a blur, and that bastard was laughing...I thought you were gone."

"Well, I'm back now," Mulder grimaced, sitting up. He felt some pain from his fall but that was all. "What age am I today?"

Krycek touched his face tenderly. "You still look younger, Mulder, but older than before. Early to mid-thirties, I'd guess. You look about the same age as you probably did when you started working on the X-files."

Mulder got up from the ground. He wearily realized that nothing surprised him any more. He decided to keep Mueler's intentions from Alex, it wouldn't do to upset him any more than he already was.

Looking around, he saw the vacant carousel. It looked like an ordinary carousel, the horses merely harmless children's playthings as they remained still upon the platform. "Where's Mueler?"

Krycek looked agitated. "He must have left, Fox, right after you fell off. I didn't see him leave, it was almost like he vanished into thin air."

"One more open X-file, I guess," Mulder sighed wearily. He walked over to a parked car and peered at his reflection in the window. Krycek's estimation had been pretty much correct. He was older but still approximately ten years younger than before.

"It's okay, Alex. There's no damned way I'm getting on that man's carousel again. This will do."

Krycek shook his head. "You're not getting on that thing again, I'll say! It would be over my dead body. That Mueler is a goddamned creep. What kills me is how he disappeared like that. And to top it off, no one else seems to be here. There are no posters for the carnival, no signs...it's 6:AM on the carnival's opening day, and there aren't even people setting up! No signs of anything. It makes me wonder how that damned Nikolai got a flyer. There's nothing here to indicate any kind of carnival or fair is going on today."

Mulder suddenly felt sick of the whole event. "It doesn't matter. I'm older and that's what counts."

"How do you feel, Fox?"

Mulder thought for a minute. "A little tired and bruised, but basically okay. About what happened to me...it's funny, I feel a lot differently about what happened with Cain. The pain's still there, I can't say I'll ever forget about that son-of-a-bitch. But it's remote, distant, as if it happened a long, long time ago. It's not tearing me apart like it was before. I must have gained some distance. It's almost like the entire horrible event happened to someone else."

Krycek touched his shoulder. "You look dynamite, you know."

Mulder grinned, happy for the first time since his rescue from Cain. "And you're pretty goddamned hot yourself."

Mulder then leaned forward to kiss Alex deeply and passionately, hands all over his lover's body, exploring and touching as if he were kissing him for the very first time.

Krycek finally leaned back to gaze fondly at Mulder. His erection felt like it was ready to burn a hole right through his jeans.

"Come on, Fox," he murmured huskily, tenderly stroking his lover's cheek. "Let's go home."

The End