Ignoring Mulder’s hands on his breasts – he was more sensitive there as a man anyway – Krycek used his new body to get the maximum amount of pleasure he could from this encounter. Guiding Mulder’s body and thrusts with his thighs and feet, he angled his body just so, grinding and gyrating, rather than thrusting as he would as a man, letting his clit get as much stimulation against Mulder’s body as it could, enjoying the heat and fullness of the cock inside him. He loved being fucked, loved it more than anything else, and being a woman was just another way of getting it. The contractions started, deep inside, and Krycek could hear his own grunts, trying to muffle them unsuccessfully as he ground himself down, crushing Mulder’s flesh inside his own body with all the care as if it was nothing other than a dildo, using Mulder to make his own pleasure.

He couldn’t help a small ‘ooooh’ as he came, as the tension built up and released in his groin, and chastised himself mentally for the silly girlie noise.

He flopped forward, hands on the bed, and Mulder grabbed his hips, holding them in place as he tried to regain the heat and friction Krycek had created, heaving himself up off the bed to shove himself deeper into Krycek’s body.

Krycek waited a few seconds, until his breathing started to return to normal, then changed back into a man, the sudden absence of vagina forcing Mulder from his body with sudden and almost brutal force.

"Hey!" Mulder exclaimed, surprised and strung out.

Krycek swung his leg off Mulder, escaping his grasp, got off the bed and went to perch his butt against the small dressing table. He reached behind himself to clear away the cosmetics, and leaned his hands back. The last thrum of his climactic contractions was still vibrating through his cock and thighs, and he let his head fall back as he enjoyed them, and the relaxation they gave him.

Mulder sat on the edge of the bed, his trousers around his knees, his shirt pushed up and crushed.

"You look ridiculous," Krycek mocked, then dropped his eyes to his own appearance. He ran his finger down the edge of one garter, pulled it out, and let it snap back, satisfied at Mulder’s needful groan.

Mulder started trying to get his own clothes off, getting tangled and tearing something in his haste. "I hadn’t finished!" he whined plaintively.

Putting one foot on the chair by the table, leaving his body open to Mulder’s eyes, Krycek looked at him with contempt, After using me like that... "Beg me."

Mulder tore off his shoes, socks, and pants in one motion, tossing them aside, and got down onto his knees. "Please," he wheedled, and smiled, enjoying the new game.

Without breaking the cold expression of contempt, Krycek sneered, "Get down on your hands and knees and beg me like a dog, or I’ll leave." He snapped the elastic again, enjoying the slight ping against over sensitised flesh. I don’t need you now, I’m in control of myself, I could just walk away from you, Krycek told himself, pleased as Mulder crawled across the floor towards him. He stood perfectly still as Mulder knelt at his feet, kissed them. Mulder’s lips worked up the nylon covered legs, his saliva leaving darker patches as he licked and kissed his way across the inside of Krycek’s thighs.

Krycek let his fingers trace the outline of Mulder’s lips, You really are quite beautiful, aren’t you, Mulder? Even if I’m only seeing what they told me to see, I’m pretty sure you’re beautiful... He traced the soft edges of Mulder’s face, the sad eyes, the generous forms of lower lip and nose... he twisted his head to look at his own reflection, make-up smeared, chin too small, nose too sharp, eyes overly large and uneven, he sneered at the mirror, feeling contempt for that man too.

Insistent hands were rubbing at his belly and hips, a demanding mouth tried to get some response from his satisfied flesh. You’re not a well trained slave, Mulder, you should ask permission before touching your master there, any low grade slave could tell you that, but Krycek had never cared for the rhetoric of SM relationships, only the outcomes. Mulder’s tongue lapped the last of the vaginal juices from Krycek, replacing them with his own saliva, and Krycek could feel the slow pulse of blood as his body reacted to the stimulation.

His cock was being consumed slowly, barely an inch with each swallow, Mulder’s lips cleverly played with him, the tongue circling continuously, and after a while Mulder stopped moving forward, just letting his tongue tantalise and caress, letting Krycek’s own erection carry itself forward into his mouth.

Krycek took his weight off the table, and grabbed a jar of moisturiser. He handed it to Mulder, "Lube yourself up."

Mulder hesitated...

"Your cock, you worthless piece of shit, lube it up." He tangled his fingers in Mulder’s hair, tugging hard enough to bring tears to the other man’s eyes, and jammed his cock harder into Mulder’s throat. The hot silken membranes of Mulder’s throat felt like they gave way, absorbing him into Mulder’s flesh as the older man swallowed to try and accommodate him. He pulled harder, twisting hair until he felt some of it come out in his hand, "I didn’t tell you to jerk yourself off, you prick."

He pulled out, and shoved Mulder’s face away, putting one foot on Mulder’s shoulder, "Now me," he pointed to the tube of make-shift lube.

Mulder’s fingers were shaking as he pushed them into Krycek’s body, seeking and finding the hot pink bud, spreading the cream up and inside.

"Open me up good, dickweed," Krycek instructed, gyrating his hips to pleasure himself on the invading fingers.

Mulder made a noise of desperate hunger, turned on by the copralalia and Krycek’s dominance, lunging forward again to suck Krycek’s balls. He lifted them with his free hand, and tried to get as much into his mouth as he could, letting his tongue swirl over the soft, delicate skin, exploring the hammered suede texture.

Caught between the two sensations, Krycek could feel his control starting to slip, and knew he’d be the one on his knees, begging, if he didn’t get what he wanted soon. Again, a palm to Mulder’s forehead, he pushed the other man away. He shucked off the blouse, letting the silky fabric fall on Mulder’s face as he stepped over him. "Get on the bed."

Mulder hastened to comply, sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for instructions, thrilled with this new game.

Krycek grabbed his ankle, dragging him until Mulder was sitting on the corner of the bed, one leg over the side of the bed, one leg over the base. He kicked Mulder’s ankles further apart, until he was satisfied that the man’s feet on the floor would give Mulder enough push.

He put his hands on Mulder’s shoulders, and walked forward, until he was straddling Mulder’s lap and wide spread legs, and until Mulder was pushed down flat on the bed. He lowered himself until he could feel the flushed head of Mulder’s prick pushing at the entrance of his body.

"Put yourself in me," he ordered, and Mulder grabbed his own cock, holding the shaft still as he pushed up. It was difficult, like this, Krycek still not open enough to allow an easy entry, Mulder straining the muscles in his back to force himself in, but Krycek wasn’t making it easier for him.

Krycek dropped his head, looking at his own now swollen shaft, drips of precum falling onto Mulder’s belly with each excited twitch. Mulder’s own penis was purple with excitement, he’d been aroused too long, the veins standing out, the head expanded so that the glans appeared to almost flare away from the shaft. Mulder managed to push in almost a complete inch, tears leaking from his eyes with his desperation, before Krycek finally took pity on him and started to lower himself.

Krycek allowed one inch before he stopped, enjoying both the discomfort of the cock that stretched his body, and the strain in the muscles in his legs. He’d been kept stagnant and still too long. There would be aches tomorrow... he hoped. He shifted his body a little, then put one, then the other foot onto the floor, taking the pressure off his weak left knee. He settled comfortably, his legs held apart by the bed, Mulder’s cock slowly invading his body, pressed in by his own body weight.

"Mmmm," he sighed deep in his throat, "How you feeling, Mulder? You gonna play nice now?" He looked down on Mulder, whose face was strained, flushed red as a beet as he tried to move Krycek. And Krycek stayed unyielding, using his strength to hold Mulder on the bed, allowing Mulder no stimulation apart from what Krycek provided himself, squeezing his own internal muscles.

"Please, Alex, I’ve got to move," Mulder gasped, his hands rubbed at Krycek’s torso, pinched his nipples, massaged his stomach, down and started to caress his penis, down to play with his balls. "Come on, Alex, have mercy."

Krycek smirked, and lifted just a little. Immediately Mulder followed the motion, thrusting that inch and down again, grunting with the effort.

Krycek lowered himself again and leaned forward so he could lick the sweat from Mulder’s skin. Mulder’s hands on his hips, finger tips digging into his buttocks, encouraged him to move a little, but he ignored their plea to concentrate on the feeling of the soft down under his tongue. Mulder’s tan nipples were hard as tiny pebbles in his mouth, and he gnawed on them happily, enjoying the taste of stress and tension on Mulder’s skin.

Resting his face on Mulder’s chest, he leaned forward just enough to let Mulder start to move. He relaxed his upper body, resting comfortably on Mulder’s torso, his own penis trapped between them, being rubbed by Mulder’s hard working belly. He slipped a hand between them, letting his finger tips caress his own flesh just how he liked it. Right now he didn’t need heavy stimulation, their bodies were doing that, so he added his own light teasing around shaft and glans, while Mulder pumped his ass, sliding in and out faster and faster as Mulder finally worked up the rhythm he needed to bring himself to climax.

Krycek squeezed his internal muscles, but not with the ripple motion he thought of as his own special trick, because he wanted to make it good for Mulder; but hard, because it increased his own pleasure. Mulder’s lips were in his hair, as he burbled nonsense to Krycek, kissing the sweaty strands, then Krycek felt a sharp nip of teeth against his scalp as Mulder finally came, the slickness of semen making his final thrusts easier and faster.

The body underneath him relaxing, softening, Krycek sat up and took himself in hand, jerking to an unsatisfactory climax. He was tired, and annoyed still. His intended subjugation of Mulder had also been unsatisfactory, due to his own lack of planning and Mulder’s complete enjoyment of the act. He rolled off Mulder, grabbed a handful of his own cum where it decorated Mulder’s stomach and smeared it over the other man’s face. Even that failed to get much of a reaction, as Mulder was still whooping, trying to get his breath.

After unsnapping the now torn and useless nylons, Krycek collapsed on the bed, making himself comfortable against the pillows, begrudgingly letting his body enjoy the incipient relaxation. He stretched out his legs, his arms over his head, and prepared to try and sleep. He would get whatever remained of Scully’s cosmetics and the nylons off when he woke up.

The mattress dipped as Mulder tried to get himself onto the bed properly, then sprang back as Mulder lost his balance entirely and rolled onto the floor with a thud and a colourful string of curses. Krycek finally felt the grey mood he’d been in for so long lift, and he laughed unashamedly at his bed partner’s discomfort. Serves you right, you bastard, hope you fell on it.

"You look totally decrepit," Krycek observed as Mulder crawled back onto the bed. The Agent’s hair was on end, his face still flushed and speckled with white, eyes and lips swollen, blotches of red mottling his upper body from an arousal held too long.

"You look like a mime caught in an acid-rain shower," Mulder returned, running a finger tip across the make-up smearing Krycek’s cheek before showing it to him.

Mulder bent and pressed their lips together tenderly, caressing Krycek’s throat and jaw. He lay on his side, staring at Krycek, while the other man stared at the ceiling. "You’re the most exciting lover I’ve ever known," Mulder observed, his words honest, not intended to flatter.

"Then why did you send me away?" Krycek’s tone was antagonistic.

"You know it was for your own protection."

"Is that why you drugged me? Why you didn’t tell me? Why you let me wake up..."

"I didn’t drug you, Alex," Mulder’s arm tightened across Krycek’s chest. "Skinner..."

"Don’t blame Skinner. I wasn’t sleeping with Skinner. I hadn’t just been telling Skinner how I loved him," that was what hurt, more than anything else. Mulder hadn’t known Krycek would wake up thinking he’d been turned over to the enemy, he wouldn’t have known how bad things would get, but he had known Krycek had trusted him, and he had known what was going to happen. He turned away, not wanting Mulder to see his bitter expression.

He knew Mulder thought he was different now, harder, more aggressive than before he’d been taken away, but he’d had little else to do but think while in ‘cold storage’. He had made a few decisions, and had come to realise he’d been too reliant on Mulder to make all the judgement calls, and Mulder’s judgement was not always sane or reliable. It was time to take his own future in hand, Mulder had made him realise he had to make plans, just in case he did walk away from all of this. There was one thing he could do to ensure his own survival. It would hurt Mulder, and that would hurt Krycek in turn, but it would make sure they were both alive by the end of this.

The room was quiet for a little while.

"I’m sorry," Mulder’s voice was soft, but he didn’t whisper his apology, he was sincere, and he needed Krycek’s forgiveness.

Krycek turned, his eyes searching Mulder’s face. When do you ever apologise to anyone? All the times you’ve upset people, with your crazy ideas and your single minded determination, all the people you’ve hurt or distressed, when have you ever apologised? It was so out of character Krycek could feel the odd twinge in his chest, not just of surprise.

"I’m sorry, too, Mulder," he whispered. "I’m sorry for all the times I’ve hurt you, for helping others hurt you. I’m sorry for hurting Scully and her family, and I’m sorry I ever got mixed up in all of the evil things I’ve seen."

Mulder buried his face in Krycek’s neck, their bodies still overheating where they touched.

You needed to hear that, didn’t you, Mulder? And I guess I needed to say it. But I’m not sorry I met you. In a way... maybe what’s happened was for the best. But then he thought of Melissa, her face pale as the life bled from her, and wondered at his own selfishness.

He kissed Mulder’s forehead, letting himself slide sideways towards sleep.

"Alex?"

"Hmm?" Krycek drifted aimlessly, trying unsuccessfully not to be woken.

"Why did you chose the name Sandy?"

"Alexandy. It was just another nickname. I seem to collect them."

"What’s wrong with your own name?"

"Nothing. Well, Alex is fine, although Krycek sounds like a sneeze. But I guess it’s better than Skippy, or Ratboy."

"What?" Krycek could feel Mulder’s slight laugh more than he could hear it.

"I got called Skippy when I first joined the FBI..."

"Why?"

"Because I was always trying to help people I guess. I like helping people. It’s nice to be needed. And Luis Cardinal used to call me Ratboy."

"Why?"

"Because Krie is the root word in Czech for Rat. Or because he’s a bastard, I dunno, ask him."

"He’s dead. Didn’t you know?"

Krycek was silent for a moment, wondering what his feelings were on the death of his ex-partner.

"Did they get to him?" he finally asked.

"Yes. Made it look like suicide, as if he’d hung himself in his jail cell."

"I guess that’s what will happen to me eventually," he mused.

"No, you won’t be going to jail, you will have full immunity to testify, the papers are all ready to sign."

"You have nothing on me anyway," Krycek pointed out the obvious, not being smug.

"Only circumstantial evidence, and the tapes and files you gave us prove you didn’t have free will in any of your actions, so it’s highly unlikely you would be prosecuted."

Krycek’s voice was quiet, "It felt like free will. It felt like I was doing the right thing, I thought... I thought I was being a patriot, helping to protect the public from things they shouldn’t know, helping to protect you from yourself. Sometimes I knew the details were wrong, but I thought... looking at the big picture, the people I was working for had to be right," he smiled slightly at his own ignorance, "If you can’t trust the government, who can you trust?"

"Yourself," Mulder took his whimsy seriously.

"I can’t. I can trust me least of all. You know that. Trust no one, especially me. I’m not the holy grail, Mulder. I’m not your knight in shining armour come in armed with the truth to save you and fight your cause. I’m not going to swing you onto the back of my Arab charger and ride you into court so you can battle your enemies, and I’m not a weapon you can use against them. You can’t rely on me, Mulder."

"Yes I can. And yes you are," Mulder smiled indulgently and kissed his cheek again.

"Oh, Mulder, be serious," Krycek turned to look at him, trying to impress upon him that he could be in for another disappointment, "I don’t know that much anyway. I may have started out at a high level of infiltration, but by the end of my time working with them I was just a grunt. I didn’t know the names of some of the people I was working with, and they tried to blow me up in a car. I wasn’t important enough, and I don’t know enough..."

"You’re the key to the front door, Alex. With the evidence you’ve supplied, and with you in front of the Committee to back it up, we have our foot in the door. It’s a start, a good start. More than I’ve been able to get in years."

Krycek sighed, "I hope you’re right. I hope that you do hurt them, and you don’t get hurt yourself."

"Alex, there’s very little more they can do to me, they’ve done just about everything."

"Don’t you believe that, Mulder," suddenly emphatic, "Don’t you ever believe they can’t hurt you anymore. They can hurt you in ways you’d never be able to comprehend."

Mulder pressed his lips to the point of Krycek’s shoulder, pulling back a little to focus more clearly on his face. "What frightens you so much? What is it that scares you more than dying?"

Krycek paused, thinking deeply for once, "Losing myself. They were cutting pieces of me away. Everything they couldn’t use, or that contradicted the mindless drone they wanted me to be, they removed. Then they added in things that… that shouldn’t have been there. I was never a violent person, not that much anyway. But they put that in me, the desire to kill. I can fight it, now, but it’s a conscious effort sometimes." He was quiet for a moment, then: "You remember Gil?"

"Who?"

"Gil, guy you met at the club, Jack’s brother."

Mulder had to think for a moment, but remembered the large blond man who’d held him captive for a few moments.

"Yeah, what about him?"

"He was my boyfriend, way back from college. We had... we had something real nice. He was the first person I felt really loved me, and I don’t mean sexually, I mean at all. We were going to share everything, like forever, all that romantic crap. I was going to be the great FBI agent and bring down all the bad guys and he was going to write novels about my adventures. Then... after those interviews started, I just... stopped loving him. I mean, we’ve stayed friends, but... it wasn’t like we grew apart or anything, it just stopped. And I can’t prove it, but I know that they turned it off. Like turning off a tap, they turned off my feelings for Gil."

Krycek closed his eyes again, trying to find those old forgotten feelings, "Sometimes I don’t think I’m even human anymore, not after all the things I’ve been through. That’s what frightens me more than anything." His mouth quirked slightly, "If you want more realistic fears, well then I guess… being tied… tied down, or small spaces, or… going back to being experimented on again. I wasn’t claustrophobic as a kid, in fact I used to like hiding in small places, but after you’ve been through their tests and held in those labs for a while, you start to get a bit freaked out by being tied down."

"So I guess bondage is out of the question then," Mulder joked.

Krycek couldn’t help chuckling, "Oh, now that’s what I like about you, Mulder, you’re so sensitive!"

"I knew it had to be something other than my being hung like a moose." Mulder pulled Krycek closer.

"That helps." Krycek settled against his chest, tucking his face into the space between Mulder’s neck and the pillow.

"I guess being locked in the silo would have been very distressing."

‘Very distressing’ what a carefully chosen piece of psychological jargon that was. Krycek remembered bashing at the door until the skin on his hands split from the pressure, scrabbling at cement until he’d torn away his fingernails, screaming insanely, even though he knew there was no one there to hear. Not even insects or rats. Nothing lived that deep down. No other living thing except that ship, and he’d been too afraid to go near that again.

So he’d huddled by the door, licking the slime on the walls for tiny drops of moisture, the salt that came with the water leaving him thirstier than before. He’d tried to make himself accept his death a number of times, controlling his breathing, telling himself to relax and accept the inevitable, but it always seemed a few hours later he’d be smearing blood and skin against that door again, trying to claw his way through the metal. Krycek didn’t answer that question, he didn’t have the words to express the horror.

Mulder was speaking again, "After you got out, how did you survive?"

"I had money, I had stashed it around various lockers and other places, I grabbed the money and just went on the run. Can’t get hold of the rest of that money right now, but I had enough back then. I did stay with one friend, but they found me there, I told you that."

Mulder had to ask, he thought Krycek’s unnatural libido wouldn’t have let him stay alone too long.

"Who did you sleep with?"

Krycek smiled a little, "Jealous?"

Mulder wanted to stay cool, and just say ‘only curious’ but knew that was the wrong answer.

"Yes, a little."

"I met a guy at a club – Ciro. He was an opera singer, great big Italian guy. He thought I was just the cutest thing, used to call me his precious little poppet."

"Did they kill him too?"

"No, I left after a couple of weeks. He started getting too serious, cloying."

"Ah, well, we couldn’t have that then."

"No."

"Was he cute?"

"Not really, but he was very kind. And he used to rub my feet."

"A foot rubber! I’m surprised you could give that up! Was he good in bed?"

"Don’t know." Alex was a little snappy at Mulder making fun-lite of his weakness for having his feet rubbed, "We never had sex. He wanted someone to look after, I wanted someone to look after me. After spending some time on the run I found I needed that for a couple of weeks. I never asked him for sex, he never offered."

"But... I thought you had to have it..." Mulder was confused.

"I’m not some animal on heat, Mulder," Krycek nipped at Mulder’s shoulder, "I do have some control."

"When did you decide to come back to me?"

"When Cody got the files out."

"You’re lying."

Krycek pulled back to look at Mulder, "How can you tell?"

"You smell funny when you lie," Mulder lied.

Sniffing himself, all Krycek could smell was sex and semen and sweat.

"So when did you decide to come back?"

"Pretty much as soon as I left Ciro’s I guess."

"Why? You had to know it was dangerous. Why didn’t you just mail me the files?"

"No where else to go, I was sick of running and hiding all the time." That wasn’t the right answer either. "I started hanging around your place, spying on you, watching you."

"That explains why I felt like I was being watched all the time!"

"No, you wouldn’t have known I was there. You’re just paranoid."

"Just because I’m paranoid..."

"...doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you, I know. And I’ve seen the secret files, I know all about your paranoia."

"What?" Mulder tensed up.

"Joke, Mulder. Joke? Get it?"

"Real funny." Mulder was miffed with himself for falling for such an obvious one, "Why hang around after you’d found the files?"

"I wanted to make sure you were taking them seriously... and I... I wanted to... I wanted to know if I could be forgiven," Krycek put his face back into Mulder’s neck. Relieved when Mulder’s arms came round him. "I could have just sent them to you, and left it at that, but I also wanted to see you. Make sure you were still fighting, that what I’d done hadn’t stopped you."

"Why is my crusade important to you?" Mulder just kept up the questions, he had to find out as much as possible before they went on the stand. Not only because it would allow him to have a better understanding of Krycek, to make sure he didn’t jump in the wrong direction under the pressure of questioning, but because he just had to know.

"It was to me too, once. Not just because I’d been exposed to it, to supernatural... stuff, I mean, I was interested in the paranormal before they asked me to join the X Files, before I joined the FBI really."

"Why?"

"Maybe I’ll tell you one day, not tonight."

"Spoil sport."

"Hey, I’ve been possessed by aliens - twice! One turned me into a gender changing freak, the other had to be hawked up in a pit on top of a space ship. I’ve been totally enmeshed in conspiracy theories and brainwashed by secret scientists, what more do you want from me?"

"Nothing – you’re absolutely perfect," Mulder sighed indulgently.

"Only you would find that a turn on, Mulder. Sometimes I wonder who’s weirder, you or me."

"Do you ever watch Bigfoot videos, late at night, and think all that body hair is strangely exciting?"

"Nope."

"Then it’s me."

Krycek couldn’t help laughing, "That explains a lot, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you want me around because I’m a living example of alien existence."

"No, Alex, there’s a lot more to it than that. Certainly your... optional extras... are a big plus, but I want you around for other reasons."

"Like what?"

"You’re fishing."

"Yeah, obviously. Like what?"

"Maybe I need you to need me. Maybe I need you to be here, and love me in the way you do. I need to rely on you."

"No, don’t. Don’t rely on me. Don’t trust me." Krycek felt his stomach cramp slightly at the thought of someone trying to rely on him.

"I’m going to, Alex. I’m going to trust you. I’m going to believe in you, put my faith in you, and trust you."

"You’re a fool. Haven’t you learned yet?"

"Yes." It was said simply, and Krycek had to turn away, his eyes burning with shame as Mulder continued. "I have learnt, over and over, and I’m still going to trust you. Even though I know you’re holding back, not telling me everything. I even know you’ve lied to me more than once," Mulder held up a finger to forestall the protest, "Not overtly. You won’t lie outright, but you conceal truths, talk around things you don’t want me to know. You’re skilled with your mouth, in more ways than one, but you give yourself away in little ways. And I’m not going to tell you how I know... so now you can be the paranoid one!"

"Bastard," Krycek said without malice, leaning forward to lightly kiss Mulder’s lips.

"Yup. Now try and get some sleep, the show starts tomorrow."

-oo0oo-

This time it was Mulder’s turn to chose the clothes for Krycek. A discreet Armani suit from his own tailor, made to his own specifications. Just the right mix of conservative and modern to soothe the Committee and just the right shade of dark blue that psychologists believed inspired trust. Five times the price of the off-the-rack suits Krycek used to wear, "You’ll knock ‘em dead, kid," Mulder said, packing it into a suit carrier for later.

The car to take them to the Committee hearing pulled up outside, and Mulder could hear their entourage of guards start to check it out. He’d made sure none of them were to come into the house itself at any time. It didn’t matter that some of these guys he’d worked with for years, paranoia allowed no leniency.

"Mulder, it’s me," Scully called him on the mobile phone, even though she was only outside the building, "Everything’s ready now."

Mulder nodded, and with his hand on the small of Krycek’s back, led the way to the car.

"What if they ask me how I initially became involved... why they chose me for the experiments?"

"Tell the truth, that’s the simplest way."

"Oh yeah, I can see that going down real well. I’ll just tell them I almost had sex with an alien who started off as a women then turned into a guy... that’ll be very believable. Still, I suppose if they think I was trying to have sex with a woman that would give me some credibility. I dare say the government will give greater weight to a loony who believes in aliens than in some queer."

"Alex, they are going to do everything they can to discredit you, there’s nothing we can do about that. I asked that the videos of your programming be made available to all of the committee members, and I think they will be showing them early in the investigation, so hopefully they won’t even think to ask why you were chosen, they’ll be so righteously indignant at what was done to you."

"And what about you? What is this going to do to your career? They will know why I was sent..."

"Alex, face it, I’m already considered weird by the FBI as it is. They’ve tried to bury me, and the X Files, so many times, I’ve learned to roll with it. Even if they find out about you and me, I hardly think that’s going to damage what’s left of my credibility. But again, as long as they stay focussed on the important issues, minor details like this should be overlooked."

"I don’t know how you can be so blasé."

"They already think I’m a crank, Alex. Twenty years I’ve been fighting these people, this is the closest I’ve ever come; you’re going to validate my life! This is still the best chance we have and the best I’ve managed so far."

"Just one more battle in the war, hey, Mulder?"

-oo0oo-

"The Senate Committee on American Affairs and Intelligence today begins its public hearing. The Committee has been charged with investigating allegedly illegal covert operations by secret organisations within the Intelligence Community. Specifically, illegal experiments on American citizens, using the FBI as a means of obtaining subjects for these experimentations. Other charges the Committee will be investigating include the involvement of this secret organisation in the murders of a number of private citizens, interference in FBI investigations and the subversion of justice. Sources have told this reporter that a number of prominent doctors and politicians, all the way up to the Whitehouse, have been subpoenaed to appear before the committee. This is Barbara Elkins, in Washington."

The various media vultures were already circling the Senate building; someone in the FBI had leaked a photo of Krycek - an almost unrecognisable ident shot of a young man trying to hide a smile - and they were using that to try and find him amongst the people entering the room where the case was to be heard. They mobbed the various knots of agents and politicians, seeking an exclusive comment, but paid no attention to the two young, well dressed women who accompanied Agent Mulder and Assistant Director Skinner. Microphones were thrust into the AD’s face, as they tried to get a comment from the male Agents who were taking on the might of a secret sect within the government, but Agent Dana Scully: beautiful in the colours of autumn, and Agent Sandy O'Connor: stunning in stone grey, passed unmolested. Mulder used his height to try to shield both women from the cameras, or anything else, aware of Scully’s hand on her gun. He felt just as much a target as Krycek, and was pleased to see the enormous security force that came out to meet them.

Once their guns had been handed in at the main entrance, they retired to a small stateroom. They had fifteen minutes before the circus was to begin. Mulder pulled out the spare suit he’d brought, and waited while Sandy O’Connor changed, removed make up and wig, and became Alex Krycek again. It was something he thought he’d never get tired of seeing, and something, by the look in Scully’s eyes, she’d never get used to.

Mulder pulled a comb from his pocket, and ran it through Krycek’s hair, primping him like a performing seal. "Are we ready to go on?" he addressed the team. Skinner was already in there, scoping the place out, Scully nodded and Krycek took a deep breath, flicked non-existent lint off his suit and nodded too. "Okay, let’s go get ‘em."

-oo0oo-

He looked good, you had to give him that. Mulder was being treated to another side of Krycek. The controlled, professional, business-like young man whose ambitions and intelligence gained him a full college scholarship and almost perfect grades all through his academy training. He looked so pure, so innocent, so... clean.

With his big eyes, porcelain doll skin, and boyish looks he’d won over the peanut gallery press, sitting behind their vid cams, and the public ate him up with a spoon. There had been such a gap in their lives since the O.J. trial. The Committee would not be swayed by such trivialities, but it sure wouldn’t hurt.

They had the luck of having Congressman Pickering Chairing the Committee. An honest man - or so Mulder had heard. Pickering had been the Chair on similar cases, was unlikely to make personal judgements against any of the witnesses, and was unlikely to be swayed by either bribery or threats.

Mulder sat on Krycek’s right, not willing to leave his side for any reason, and they were both surrounded by legal advisors, who bent and whispered and passed notes amongst themselves.

Krycek answered the questions asked of him, clearly and confidently, none of the sly calculating gleam that he usually survived on. They were starting off simply, establishing his credentials, and, Mulder got the impression, his sanity. They had a list of things Krycek was supposed to have done, much of which had come from Mulder, all that time ago. Reports he’d filed on his suspicions of Krycek’s activities. Much of this Krycek was now easily debunking,

Oh, way to make me look credible, Krycek, Mulder thought ruefully.

They were asking him why he had done the things he had admitted to.

"I believed I was serving the good of my country. Carrying out the orders of our government."

Mulder interrupted before they could discredit Krycek’s ‘I was only following orders’ answer: "At this time, I think it would be appropriate if the Committee viewed the video evidence of Mr. Krycek’s indoctrination. I believe it will answer a lot of the Committee’s questions."

"Agreed." Chairman Pickering motioned to the court attendants to show the tapes. Large screen televisions had already been set up around the room, and the story unravelled before the Committee and other audience members like some perverse soap opera.

After an hour, Mulder fetched coffee for himself and Krycek. He didn’t want to see the one coming up now. He’d seen similar film: Milgram’s early experiments, grainy black and white film of average American citizens delivering electric shocks to other average American citizens until the screaming stopped. Of course, those screams had been taped, and the citizens delivering the shocks – in experiments designed to measure the obedience to authority of normal people – had been sent away, reeling and stunned by their own cruelty, but basically with their sanity intact.

On screen now, Krycek, who never left the experiments intact in any way, was slowly being indoctrinated into violence. The files with this series of sessions showed that they had been conducted over a period of months; each time Krycek failed to follow orders perfectly he was taken away for ‘retraining’.

The tape of the first attempt showed him very reluctant to offer any kind of punishment to the man he was supposed to be ‘disciplining’. He’d already been through a number of sessions of hypnosis and suggestion, but seemed incapable of following the instructions of the doctors to punish the other man.

By the fourth attempt, he was – albeit reluctantly – following orders.

By the seventh attempt he was hurting the other man willingly.

By the ninth attempt he savagely attacked the doctor overseeing the experiment, for no apparent reason.

By the tenth attempt he followed orders perfectly, delivering ‘punishment’ exactly as directed. This time, the replacement doctor had decided to oversee matters from behind a glass panel.

Mulder wondered about the ‘victim’. He never seemed perturbed by what was happening, smiling quite happily at Krycek throughout the sessions, and even expressing disappointment at Krycek’s failures. Perhaps the idea here was that Krycek would be able to sublimate guilt if he thought the ones he attacked felt no pain? That didn’t ring true to Mulder. Perhaps the man playing victim was just as convinced of his role in it all as Krycek himself.

The doctors who had been foolish enough to allow themselves to be videoed, the bureaucrats so complacent they signed the documents, were all there on parade. After all, they’d been doing this since the CIA’s telepathy experiments back in the 1950’s, when they had, quote: ‘Used Niggers because they were cheaper than cats’ unquote. Why should they care this time around?

Because this time around you’re up against Fox Mulder, Mulder almost gloated, And this time it’s already gone too far for you to just walk away.

Mulder put his hand on Krycek’s forearm, giving it a conspiratorial squeeze. He was surprised to feel the tremors coursing through the other man’s body. One look at Krycek’s face and Mulder could see tiny droplets of sweat beading his upper lip, his eyes were wide and staring. Mulder gestured to one of the court attendants, quietly arranging permission to get himself and Krycek out of the main room.

Once they were alone in the room set aside for them, Mulder took the other man by the shoulders, "Hey, you okay?"

Krycek nodded abruptly, "I hadn’t seen the tapes before." His voice was huskier than usual. "I just... I didn’t... I mean, I knew what to expect, but it still..." he made a fist, angry and frustrated. "I don’t think I want to see the rest of the tapes. I might just sit out the rest of the day."

"Are you sure? It might do you some good to see exactly what they did to you. It might help you sort out exactly which ones are the artificial thoughts and feelings."

Krycek nodded again, apparently calmer, "I guess so, although I’m not sure this is really an appropriate venue for self-analysis."

"Hey, cheaper than paying for a shrink!"

Krycek smiled a little, then Mulder had to ask: "Watching these tapes, does anything they say effect you unnaturally?"

Krycek raised a questioning eyebrow.

"They were using a form of hypnosis, do any of the trigger words they implanted in your mind make any impression on you now?"

Krycek thought for a moment, his eyes half closed, "No."

"Ready to go out there again?"

Shaking his head, Krycek paced away, obviously still agitated. Suddenly he grabbed a jug of water from a table in the centre of the room, and hurled it at the far wall. Mulder took cover as glasses, ornaments, and eventually furniture also took flight. The guards were pounding on the door, and Mulder regretted locking it. But as suddenly as the storm had started, it was over. Krycek slumped over, resting his hands on his thighs. Mulder opened the door and assured the guards they were both fine, closing it again before going over to Krycek and putting a hand on his shoulder.

Tears were flowing freely, Krycek’s face was clenched into an angry grimace, but he wasn’t actually crying. Not sobbing anyway.

"They killed me, Mulder."

"Alex…"

"They killed me. They killed what I was, destroyed my personality, my soul, destroyed who I was and put another person in my place."

He stood up, shrugging off Mulder’s hand, crossed the room and stood in the corner, hiding his face in the wall. "How long until I find myself again, who I really am? All the time I am always so dislocated from reality. I never know what I want, or where I’m going. I never know if what I’m thinking is really real or if I’m perceiving things through their filters and biases, rather than my own. They raped my mind and I just let them!"

Mulder was as worried by Krycek’s words as by how he said them. The young man’s voice was loud and slurred and he was almost wailing. More from anger than fear. It was a childish tantrum, a fit more appropriate for a four year old than someone Krycek’s age. This was the healthiest reaction Mulder had seen from him yet. The psychologist in Mulder made him stand back and give Krycek the room he needed to finally get this out of his system. He was finally purging some of the poison he’d been carrying for so long.

"Watching those videos, that was like… like watching my own death," Krycek continued, his voice agonised.

"A very slow, very thorough execution. They may as well have put a bullet through my brain for all the damage they did."

Despite the bitter words, he was calming now, and Mulder wondered if Krycek should be trying for control right now, while he was finally getting this out in the open. Then again, if he could just hold it together until the end of the trial, or until his testimony wasn’t needed any more…

They’d have plenty of time after the trial to get Krycek some professional help.

Krycek shook his head again, "What would my life have been like if they hadn’t got hold of me? What... who would I have been? I’m nothing now, nothing, and I could have done anything!" He paused, breathing deeply. "They really screwed with my head, didn’t they? Those paper files didn’t say half of it. I feel like such an idiot. Sitting there, listening to them, I believed everything they told me, no matter how ridiculous it was," he squeezed out a couple of tears.

"You didn’t have a choice, Alex." Mulder found he didn’t know how to offer comfort this time, apart from psychologist cliché. He’d never had to question his own sanity – there had always been plenty of other people willing to do that for him.

"Oh, that really helps."

"That’s the best I can do right now."

Krycek sighed, he knew it was, and for now, that would have to do.

Mulder was so elated, bouncing around their waiting room like a young boy. He smiled more often than any of the team could ever remember.

Krycek rubbed his temples with trembling fingers, trying to relieve the tension. He wished Mulder would sit still, and he also wished he could tap into Mulder’s ebullience, he could really use some siphoned off energy right about now.

A cold glass was pushed into his hands, and he smiled his gratitude at Scully as she slipped him a couple of aspirin.

"Alex?"

Uh oh, something’s brewing, Krycek thought, put on guard by her hesitant tone. Scully was almost never hesitant. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Does it hurt? Are you aware of what they are doing to you?"

What does she care if I was hurt? Alex was momentarily puzzled by her solicitous question… Oh, of course, her sister.

"No," he smiled his best reassuring smile, "They don’t want us to know, so they are very careful," I’m lying, it hurt, I could feel them ripping my mind away while I screamed down deep in my soul, comfort me, I hurt, it hurt, I’m hurting, "It’s all quite painless. She might have felt a little confused, that’s all."

Oh, I’m good, Alex thought, as she gave him a watery smile, and patted his hand in gratitude, Yeah, I’m good, and you’re my good friend now.

That odd little manipulative victory did far more for his nervous headache than any medical prescription could.

NEXT