R5-Nicole-p1
Private Island in the Caribbean
White Room

"That's it, Fox, sleep," Cain crooned over the supine from of his newest pet. Fox had done so well really in their latest playtime. Cain felt a certain confidence now that had been lacking just a few short hours ago. The look of pain on Fox's face, the occasional slip of pleasure shuttering through the clear panes of his eyes had told Cain much. He was beginning to break. A small frown crossed Cain's face as he considered how much effort he had put into receiving eventhat small victory.

Other slaves had resisted longer, but not with such determination. Fox really believed that this Alex would come for him. Believed it so clearly that it was as if it was an inoculation against Cain's tutoring. He had seen a look of rage in Fox's beautiful eyes often, but sometimes Fox looked at him as if he were already dead at the hands of this Alex. It was unsettling. Even though he knew Alex Krycek could never figure out where his lover was even if he were free to look for him, Fox's utter conviction of it unsettled him.

"Alex will kill you," Fox had whispered even while Cain was so deliciously inside him. Even while Fox was struggling not to respond.

"Alex will kill you."

Four words. No more threat than any he had ever heard, and very tame compared to most. But still unease had found a spot to roost within him. Looking down at Fox still tied to the padded leather table, Cain felt himself moved by the beauty so helpless before him. The sweep of lashes, that enticing mole, the plump limps, all so very entrancing. So young and tender, like the finest cut of meat. All his. He stroked Fox's muscled thigh and let his fingers dally in the thatch of brown pubic hair. The intimate caress made Fox moan a bit in drugged protest, but the sedative would keep the young slave under for hours

He toyed with the idea of taking him as he was, utterly without any response or hope of protest. He would have too, save for that unease. Alex Krycek. Who was he that he inspired such confidence in his lost lover? More disturbing than knowing nothing of the man was the conflicting reports his own people had come up with about the green-eyed devil. The United States Social Security office had dozens of Alex Kryceks listed but none of those investigations had proved fruitful. No department of motor vehicles had record of him, no credit cards, no utility companies provided for him. He was a ghost. And yet the FBI had a file on him, one that clearly indicated he had been an employee.

It made no sense. Unless he had somehow been able to erase everything else. Then why leave the FBI record? It was useless in itself, but why leave it?

Cain hated mysteries. Especially ones that kept him from getting inside the head of his perfect slave. Yes, Fox was his perfect slave. Of course he no longer really believed in the supposed age regression idiocy. It was some scam. It had to be.

Fox was undeniably young. Yes, sometimes his reactions were calculated and his gaze more intense somehow than a twenty-two year old man should be able to claim. But, mostly he reacted like any young, strong-willed man would. His body was so eager for sex that he could not control his responses as an older man might. And though Fox apparently had mental tenacity, enough to withstand even severe discipline, he was frightened.

Of course they were all afraid, even the older men, but the younger ones were more easily frightened. And Fox, though he took great pains to hide it, was very much afraid.

Cain chuckled then, thinking of Fox's violent reaction to the white room he now slumbered in. The table covered with sweet toys, the mirrors and the gurney like leather table had sent him into a full-blown panic. He had actually been able to knock down three of Cain's guards, and had he been more calculating could have even come after Cain himself. But, like any young man he had only wanted to escape. And so he had barreled through the doorway and ran into several more guards who had come at a run in response to the sound of the scuffle.

Cain had no idea why Fox had reacted so violently to the room, but he had been forced to adjust his belief that Fox was essentially harmless. He had taken down three well-trained men quickly, almost professionally. He would not be allowed the opportunity again of course.

It had been while Cain was sliding on a long rubber glove, liberally greased that Fox had whispered those four words. Legs tied up and apart, arms stretched above him, already having endured several hours in the white room, Fox had looked him straight in the eye and with those words had made Cain pause.

"Alex will kill you."

"We will just see about that, my Fox," Cain whispered over the sleeping beauty. "We will just see." He licked his lips at the memory of his hand inside Fox, the muscles in Fox's sphincter trying desperately to close over Cain's wrist. Oh the way Fox's face had whitened with the pain. Lovely. And when Cain had forced an orgasm from the straining cock, Fox had sobbed. Beautiful tears on such soft, young skin.

He left his hand inside Fox, twisting it gently, moving Fox's hips up and down. "Say my name, Fox," he had commanded. Fox had only groaned, lovely hazel eyes wide with despair "Say my name and this will be over for a few hours."

He frowned anew remembering Fox's whisper. "Alex"

What hold had the mysterious man on his slave? He left Fox in the white room, where he would wake to find himself still tied and helpless. Cain went in search of Rogers. He knew what he wanted done, but it was risky. He wanted Rogers to find Krycek and very cautiously, very discretely find out as much about the man who inspired such faith and devotion in Fox.

Rogers was standing on one of the westward balconies, staring out to the turquoise sea with shuttered eyes. Cain didn't bother to wonder what Rogers was brooding on and he launched immediately into his needs.

Rogers was empathic in his disagreement. "To go back there, to even be near that man is not a good idea. We have never..."

"Fox is resisting.."

"They all resist, sir," Rogers replied impatiently. "All of them."

Cain raised an aristocratic brow. "But, Fox is special. He is clinging to the belief that this Krycek, this *ghost* will find him. My instincts tell me that something is different here. Find all you can about this bastard and then kill him. Bring his body to me. I might want to prove to my beautiful slave that there is no more hope for him." Cain smiled at the thought. Yes, seeing the pretty black-haired man dead might just push his sweet slave over the edge. Once there Fox would be sweetly malleable. The perfect slave all around.

"Showing him his dead lover might just destroy Fox," Rogers said with an intense glare.

Cain was irritated. "Fox is my worry not yours, Rogers. Or do you think to tell *me* what to do?"

Rogers cleared his face of all expression. Fox was lovely and somehow special, but nothing, no one, was worth angering Cain. He would go back to Hamilton and find out what Cain wanted and then quietly arrange for Krycek to meet with an accident. He nodded his agreement and put all thoughts of Fox out of his mind.

Cain smiled in pleasure. Fox would have nothing to hold on to when Alex was delivered dead. So happy was he that he ordered a meal he knew Fox would enjoy to be sent to him out on the balcony and ordered Fox brought to him. Drugged or no, Fox would learn to eat from his hand today. A shiver of delight caressed him as he pictured those ripe lips taking cold mango from his fingers.

***
Hamilton

"This waiting around is driving me crazy, Skinner," Alex grumbled, his eyes searching the crowds walking along the beach. "I seriously doubt that whoever took Fox, whoever was prepared enough to erase my memories of the night, would be sunning alongside the Smiths and Browns of Middle America."

Skinner ignored Krycek as he had tried to do for an entirely too long week. Krycek was nothing like the young man who had so briefly worked with Mulder on the X-Files. Gone was the eager to please expression. Gone alongside with any pretense of innocence. He didn't care to know just what the real Krycek was. What, not who. Both were a mystery, but it was the question of *what* Krycek was that made Skinner cautious. The man was obviously not your run-of-the-mill errand boy for the smoking bastard. He was dangerous, but right now all his energies were focussed of finding Mulder.

It was that intensity, that drive to find Mulder that had firmly convinced Skinner of Krycek's innocence in any foul play done to Mulder's person. No one could be that good of an actor. No one.

"Dammit, who do you think you're waiting for?" Krycek pushed himself out of the wicker chair he was seated in and began to walk away.

"Krycek, the police confirmed that several young, attractive males have disappeared in the vicinity of Hamilton. From this area specifically. I think it might be in our interest..."

"To what? Wait around until whoever did this strikes again?" Krycek ran a hand through his dark hair. He'd heard this explanation before and while there was a possibility that Skinner was right, he just *knew* that this was a dead end.

"You said yourself that Mulder was having dreams of some sexual predator, premonitory dreams, correct?"

Krycek felt his stomach tighten. "Yes," he hissed reluctantly.

"Scully found that several of the young men who have disappeared over the last ten years have returned...none of them remember anything. Doesn't that strike you as having some sort of connection? Some evidence, at least a remote possibility that whoever erased your memory might have done the same to these young men?" Skinner's voice was low and harsh. He was frankly sick of having to explain everything to Alex all the time.

Alex closed his eyes for a moment and could see Fox's face when he woke from one of the dreams. "Skinner we are taking too long! If this is what we are saying, that some freak has taken him to torture him, to...we can't just sit around and play G man."

Skinner was saved from replying when Scully pulled into a small parking space in her rental car. She had promised to meet them there an hour earlier and he had hoped that she had been delayed by interesting leads. Her expression however, didn't show any more hope or excitement than it had for days. In fact she walked toward them, joining them at the small outdoor café, took one look at the beach below and sat down.

"Sorry I'm late. I got a call. Some of Mulder's friends are interested in helping find him. They're here."

"Who?" Skinner asked.

"Trusted friends," Scully said vaguely.

"I don't trust anyone," Krycek whispered angrily as he reclaimed his seat between Scully and Skinner. "Who are they?"

"Men who have helped Mulder more often than I can count. They are *friends* Krycek, leave it at that. They bring a whole new, albeit eccentric, ability to this case. I trust them, Mulder trusts them and right now I don't give a damn whether or not you do." She glared at Krycek then. "They have already suggested a few things that I think at least one of us should have suggested doing already."

"What is that?" Skinner queried, his interest peaked. Krycek remained silent, but he was listening carefully.

"Regression therapy hypnosis."

Krycek sat back. "What?"

"Hypnosis. We bring you back to that night..."

"Absolutely not," Krycek bit out. "I am not...repeat *not* going to have some quack peeking around the layers of my mind. I may have the old man off my back, but there is no chance in hell I would be around if some fucking therapists gets me talking. New idea, this one is out." He was gripping the sides of the table and leaning toward Scully intently. "Not a chance in hell."

"I thought you wanted Mulder back," she taunted. "Or was that an act?"

Krycek jerked as if she'd struck him. "Go to hell."

"You want, you actually *want* Mulder to remain missing?" She drove the knife home and had to hold back a small smile of triumph when Krycek cursed and sat back.

"He asks me only about that night. Only," Alex managed to say.

"He might have to bring you back further to see where and when you might have seen any of the men who supposedly did this to you," Scully said calmly, not even acknowledging her victory. To do so would only make Alex believe she'd have given him a choice anyway. "The men, I am assuming it was more than one...which could be untrue, who wiped your memory might have been stalking Mulder without either you have being aware. If we can pinpoint another location we might be able to find them."

Skinner nodded. "Sounds like a viable option. Do these...friends have any names of regression therapists?"

She took a list out of her light jacket and placed it in front of Skinner. "One name. Dr. Tammy Schin. She is right here in Hamilton. We can go as soon as you like." This last was directed toward Alex who only stared at the sheet of paper.

"Is there a reason we can't go now?" Scully asked, impatient that they hadn't both jumped up immediately. The small ponytail slapped her face as she jerked her head toward the car emphasized her youthful looks and Krycek had to wonder how she had even managed to get some fool to rent her a car.

"Skinner thinks we are going to watch a kidnapping take place on the beach," Alex sneered, standing to go.

Skinner ignored him. "I'll stay here. I have someone who indicated they had something to tell me...some piece of the puzzle from that night. I am waiting for him." He spared Alex an expressionless glance to see how the younger man was taking the news that Skinner had held out on him.

Not well, if the tight, pink lips were any indication.

"You were waiting for a contact this whole time and didn't bother to tell me?"

"Krycek, keep focused. Dr. Schin is waiting." Scully nodded to Skinner and walked quickly back to the bright blue rental car.

Krycek followed, but not before giving Skinner a glare promising that the issue was not closed. Not by a long shot. Once in the passenger seat of the Ford Escort he turned to Scully. "So what kind of therapist is she that she has so much time that she can fit us in right away?"

"Apparently she and one of Mulder's friends go way back," Scully answered, eyeing the traffic before speeding away from the curb. "She and...Mulder's friend went to college together."

"Oh what a wonderful coincidence. This regression therapist *friend* of Mulder's *friend* just happens to have a practice in Hamilton, where my lover just happened to be kidnapped from and I got my brains scrambled. I am not suspicious at all," he sighed.

The sarcasm in his voice made Scully frown. "These guys are solid, Krycek. A lot more solid than you are. And they want Mulder back safe and sound as much as the rest of us do."

"Don't presume you can want him back more than I do, Scully," Krycek warned. "You can't even compare."

Scully looked at him quickly, judging the veracity of his words. She had to give it to the man, he did indeed seem to be slowly going mad with Mulder's absence. "Maybe so, Alex," she said softly.

Appeased a small bit by Scully's admittance...her acceptance that he did indeed love Mulder, Krycek turned his attention fully toward her. "So this therapist...she is on the up and up?"

"If By...if this friend says so, then yes, she is."

"Fuck," Krycek groaned. He really didn't want someone poking around in his brain, his memories were too damaging. Even the ones that had been repressed before might come flooding back and then all of them were dead. But, if it had even the slightest chance of helping to find his baby, he would arrive in the therapist's offices with fucking bells on his toes. "I was certain you were going to say that."

"Mulder is the paranoid one, remember, Alex?" Scully said gently.

He looked at her with an amused expression. "Not as much as he *ought* to be, Scully. Not by a long shot."

Scully frowned at that. Was Krycek trying to say that there was even more to the conspiracy than even Mulder suspected? She wasn't about to ask him. She knew by now that Krycek wouldn't answer any question he didn't want to, and no amount of pressure would make him speak. She only hoped that Dr. Schin could break into his hard head.

She missed Mulder.

She was terrified for him. Utterly.

***
Jo’s next.