8.1.98 Disclaimer: CC is the happy guy who owns the boys. But I'm the one who really cares for them!Ê Ratings: R for violent and sexual thoughts. M/K
Spoilers: Tunguska, Terma
8.1.98
Disclaimer: CC is the happy guy who owns the boys. But I'm the one who really
cares for them!
Ratings: R for violent and sexual thoughts. M/K
Spoilers: Tunguska, Terma
Plot Summary: A misinterpretation of events
Thanks to Foxwoman for sacrifising her time for beta-reading

Moments of deep emotion part III : Anger and dissapointment
by Ratwoman
mochr.hoefig@waischenfeld.baynet.de
>>'Cause I've got a love
a love that won't wait
a love that is growing
and it's getting late
Do you know what it means
to be left this way
when everyone's gone
the feelings they stay<<
Depeche Mode; I want you now

He looked so innocent in his sleep.

I awoke a long time earlier than he, but didn't choose to wake him up. It
just felt so good to hold a warm body in my arms, to watch his peaceful
features.

He didn't look as if nightmares were molesting his sleep. Unlike me; I've
woken up with a racing heart and the vague memory of blending lights and the
screams of a girl. Utterly different memories chased the pictures away when
I looked at the figure beside me. The floor had been hard, the air cold and
the whole circumstances more than awkward, but his body was warm and tight,
his skin smooth and velvet, his touches arousing and tender.

Now in the morning I watched his face, unbelieving at the beauty of his
sweet, innocent, angelic features, the curtain of his eyelashes, which were
forming dark bows on his pale skin. His perfect, delicate nose which makes
mine look so coarse in comparision. His lips, which had given me such
pleasure that night.

It drives me mad to think that he cheated me again!

When I heard the guards coming, I woke him by shaking his shoulders. He
looked around in confusion, before he remembered where he was. Before his
face turned into the cold emotionless mask he used to wear since he left the
Bureau. At least, I thought it was a mask. How wrong I was! Anything else
was fake, any emotion, the way he gazed at me with his wide eyes, the desire
of the night... Hope it was fun for that rat bastard!

The guards brought us insect -contaminated soup we threw onto the floor after
I fished out a bug. The bowls banged onto the floor with a loud rattling,
whereupon an angry guardsman opened the door.

To my confusion, Krycek stood up, starting to shout at the man in Russian.
Of course, I couldn't understand a single word, but his voice was demanding,
threatening, and the guard's answers became more and more submissive.
My stomach cramped, because of fear? Dissapointment? Because I started to
realize that it all had been a trap?

Still not sure about what was going on, I asked Krycek what he'd said to the
guard. His face lacking any expression, he answered: "That I want to talk to
his superior." Then he went away with the guard, leaving me behind in a haze
of confusion.

Not for long; just minutes after he had gone, the door opened again and a
bald man accompanied by some guards came in. Jumping at me the guards held
me down while the bald man injected something - I have no clue what - in the
back of my neck. The needle sunk into my skin and my world went black.

When I came to, I was chained naked to a table under wire gratting. Through
the corners of my eyes, I could see many others in the same awkward position
as I.

Guards were walking up and down, observing us. Then it happened. A pipe
above me opened and a black oilien liquidity splashed out onto my face. To
my horrors it formed to black worms and crawled into my nose, under my skin.
I didn't really feel pain, but fear, desperation, nausea, helplessness. It
violently took over my body and my mind, and there was nothing I could do
against it.

Krycek. Can it be that he didn't intend this, that he didn't want me to
become abused for the tests? That he didn't know what they would do to me?
Or did he buy himself free by selling me? Or had it all been a trap from the
beginning? Was it his plan to lure me here in order to get captured and to
let me rot in the gulag? To get rid of me forever, to let me die, slowly,
agonizingly?

And I have been so stupid to trust him! I've even... I've even made love to
him!

However, when I came to, I was back in the cell. The voice of the prisoner
of the next cell had awaken me. I'd talked to him the day before, he seems
to be trustworthy - as far as I can trust my own judgement. It hadn't worked
with Krycek, it never has.

"How long have I been lying here?" I asked.

"Hours... I don't know." the man answered with his exotic Russian accent."The
first time is bad." he said symphatizisingly.

"They've done this to you?" I realized.

"Yes. It becomes easier each time." Quietly he added. "Until it kills you."

While I moved towards a hole in the wall on which's other side he was, he
told me that I've been exposed to the black cancer, "the cancer that lives in
the rock."

I could see only his eyes through the hole. Large, dark, expressive eyes.
Almost as beautiful as Alex's eyes.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I was geologist... quite well known actually...but now I am just a test
subject." The painful resignation in his voice tugged at my heart.
Then he told me that the prisoners assumed that the tests were for a cure
against the Black Cancer. Hundreds had died during the experiments.

There was something else I wanted to know. Desperately.

"What happened to the man who was in the cell with me, Krycek?"

I don't now which answer I feared more: that something bad had happened to
him or that he had allied with our tormentors.

"He is most likely dining with the men responsible for our torture."

I closed my eyes in dissapointment. Krycek had cheated me. Again.

"I heard laughter when they left your cell." my neighbour added.

Something cold was taking hold of my heart. "I'm not going to die." I heard
myself say.

"No?" my neighbour asked doubtfully. "Why not?"

"I have to live long enough to kill that man Krycek." I decided, my heart
throbbing hard with hatred.

The prisoner passed me something through the hole, a knife. I asked him where
he got it.

"I made it." he said. "to kill myself. It took me two weeks." His voice was
filled with irony as he added. "By then I had lost the desire."

"You'd rather suffer the torture?" I asked in astonishment. I couldn't
believe that anyone would prefer this.

Closing his eyes, his voice loaded with sarcasm, he replied: "Isn't it
wonderful - the persistance of life? That rock we found buried so deep in
the earth - that anything could survive down there goes beyond all reason....
No. They will have to kill me themselves."

The following couple of hours I spent feeding my wrath, imagining how I
would stab Alex Krycek. How I'd ramm the blade deep into his body, how his
warm blood would cover my hands. His eyes would widen in surprise and pain,
before they'd become blank. I'd hold his slender body in my arms until he'd
get cold, until life vanished from him and all that's left would be his
beautiful shell, the shell that disguised such a fiendish soul.

I cried silent tears when I remembered the night. Our night. I remembered
each detail, the taste of his skin, the feeling of his muscles, the
pleasures his hands and his mouth had inflicted on me.

I had offered him all I could give. And I gratefully took everything he was
willing to give. We exposed our most intimate selves to each other, does
this mean nothing to him? Was it just for fun? Take what he could get, play
with me, and then leave me behind? How could he do this to me?

When the guard came to pick me up, I hoped to meet Krycek, because I was
longing to kill him.

And now there he is. The guards brought us, the prisoners, to the outside,
underneath the grey, clouded sky. I can see Alex Krycek a few hundred yards
away, looking clean and healthy and handsome.

"Prisoner." my cell neighbour whispers. "Is that your friend?"

No, not my friend. Alex and the bald man who ordered the tests are hugging
like old friends. Alex even lights him a cigarette.

It hurts so much to see that I was right, that Alex deceived me again.

"You have but one chance." my neighbour reminds me.

My blood burning like fire through my veins I draw the knife and break out
of the line. Before the guards really notice it, I reach Krycek and knock
him down onto the bed of a truck.

But I can't kill him. He's the murderer of my father, an attache in Scully's
abduction, he even tried to kill her but shot her sister instead. He's the
man who's somehow able to gain my trust again and again, only to betray it,
to kick it with his feet. Playing with me, playing with my feelings.

Sleeping with me just to let me down the next day.

Bastard! Why can't I kill you!

Instead of stabbing him I punch him in his pretty face, knocking him
unconscious. I decide to get into the cab of the truck in order to cut his
throat later in the woods, when I've got rid of the persecutors, but even as
I'm thinking it I know I won't do that. I'm no killer. I even won't kill
Krycek.

Especially not Krycek.

I start the truck, overrun a fence and drive into freedom, my beloved
hostage lying unconscious on the loading place.

The Beginning of the End