Dominion Over My Soul - 4

* * *

Scully's apartment bedroom
At Night

Byers flipped over the page from the Yellow Warblers to that of the Magnolia Warbler in the book he and Alex were thumbing through. It was one of the few books that Scully owned that had big color pictures that the young man could see. There were a few fairy tale books, probably for when nephews visited, but Byers didn't want the ill man to think he was being talked down to.

Right now they were looking in "Book of North American Birds." It had a short note from Mulder to Scully in the front, saying something about her watching the birds while he kept an eye out for ghosts she didn't believe in. The gift seemed genuine and caring, that was until one spotted the red and white clearance sticker on the back.

As for Alex, he was leaning against a large stack of pillows and blankets supporting his weight. His flesh looked very pale, almost the same color as the white sheets. His left hand also twitched every now and then, moving independently while the rest of him stayed pretty much still.

It was glaringly obvious that his energy was drained, from the sound of his sleepy voice to his green eyes that seemed to sink into his face. But still he battled against the darkness, trying to avoid sleep. Byers already knew that Alex didn't want to sleep, nor be alone out of fear. The young man clung to his hand and begged him earlier not to make him take some of the sedatives that Scully had prescribed. It was the fear in his voice that had convinced him not to make Alex sleep. It was also the fear in the young man's eyes as they drooped closed that made Byers pick up the bird book for them to look through.

Byers turned another page and pointed out each bird. "And that's the female myrtle, then the male myrtle. This one here is the male Audubon."

"But they're all Yellow-rumpled Warblers, right? What's the difference between the turtles and the ah-du-ba-ns?"

Already having coming across this problem before, Byers didn't correct Alex. He had tried earlier to correct Alex's misconception on a name but no matter how slow or careful he said the word, Alex seemed to hear something else. Already he had given up trying to say the Latin names of the birds. The words were too complex for the confused young man to process.

"The myrtle's live in the east while the Audubon's live in the west."

Alex nodded as if he had been given the key to bird watching, not just a weird note on the difference of a bird. Instead he moved on ahead, pulling the book closer so that he could see all the colors and textures of the birds.

"Did you see all the female birds are gray looking while the male birds are not? Their plumage is all pretty."

"I think with birds, it's the male of the species that has to attract the female."

"Wouldn't it be funny if people did that too. Walter would look funny in a wig. Dana looks good, though, very sexy and nice when she's wearing her makeup."

Byers didn't comment, if fact barely noted the statement. Since he started talking with Alex, the younger man was always making off comments like that. In fact he had complimented Byers on his beard and spent a few moments running his fingers through it. The touch was slightly disturbing, but after everything that Alex had gone through Byers wasn't about to comment on semi-inappropriate behavior.

Alex turned the page and his fingers started outlining the Black-throated Gray Warbler. Since there was only one bird Byers didn't need to tell him which one was the male or the female. Instead the bearded man was content to watch Alex outline the bird and the little map of where the bird was located.

"When I was a kid I found a nest on the ledge of where my mother worked. Her boss was so mad at the bird twittering all day that he made the janitor push the nest off the ledge. I begged him to let me keep the two baby birds and he let me have him. I tried to keep them alive but after a day or two they died. Me and my best friend had a proper Viking funeral for them and every thing. We nearly burned down the entire house."

"Did you go with your mom to where she worked often?" Byers asked, jumping at the opportunity to learn more about Alex's past.

"Yes. He always wanted to talk to me about how well I was doing in school and about what I was doing. He even wrote me a reference letter when I went off to Stanford."

"What did you study there? Did that lead you to go into the FBI?"

"I studied psychology and later on criminal psychology at the request of my professors. Both suggested that I go into the FBI after I was recruited. Mom was adamant that I shouldn't go to Quantico, but they were both so persistent that I should become an agent. After I was accepted, my mother and I quit talking. I wonder what ever became of her?"

"You mean, you don't know?"

"No, she was moved over seas to be the personal assistant to the Russian Ambassador in Great Britain soon after I was left for Quantico. I haven't seen or heard of her since."

"Is that what your mother was, a personal assistant? Was she Russian?"

"She was a personal secretary to the Russian ambassador here in America. I was born here, to am American father and have joint citizenship."

"An American father?" Byers sat up and stared at the young man. It sounded like Alex didn't know that C.G.B. Spender was his father.

"Yeah, that's what mom always said, but she would never tell me who. I think that she and the ambassador had too many late nights one night, and I was born. She wanted me to have all the benefits of Americans, that's why my father was American."

Byers cursed under his breath. It seemed like Spender wasn't around enough to arouse suspicion in his son. Of course Alex may not have considered another possibility. If the Russian Ambassador took such a personal position in a fatherless boy, it would seem obvious to connect the dots and think that Alex was his illegitimate son.

"Did you have much contact with your family back in Russia?"

"I've only been to Russia once. I haven't... I didn't..." Alex started gasping. It sounded like he was choking on something. His breath became labored and very loud in the quiet of Scully's home. His face became flushed and Byers helped the quacking, pale man position his head between his knees to limit his breathing from his panic attack. After the attack was over, Alex laid back against the sheets looking tired and totally drained.

"Try to breathe evenly while I go get you a drink." Byers instructed as he went into the kitchen to get Alex a tall glass of ice water.

"Is he all right?" Scully's sleepy voice drifted from the couch. Right now she was held tightly in Skinner's arms as he leaned back against the sofa. They looked incredibly cozy and Byers hoped they were comfortable. They needed their rest after the events that had transpired over the last few days.

Byers looked towards the door that led to the bedroom before stepping closer to talk to them both.

"We were talking a bit about his past and he started having a panic attack when he started talking about being in Russia. I really have to talk to you about his behavior but first let me give him a sedative."

Scully looked towards the wall clock and noted the time. "Isn't it a bit early for it. He should have been out for a couple of hours."

"He was scared to take it. I don't think he wants to close his eyes. We've been sitting up chatting and flipping through your bird book for the past hour or so."

"Didn't know I had bird books," Scully mumbled as she pushed herself up, getting off Skinner. When he started to get up, she pushed him back down onto the sofa. "I'm just going to check on him, Walt. I'll be right back."

Despite her request, he got up anyway. He wanted to check on Alex, wanted the younger man to feel safe and protected. Every time he was in the same room as the green-eyed beauty, Alex would hold his hand like it was a lifeline. His grip wasn't that strong right now, but as time progressed it was getting stronger.

What Skinner really wanted was to wrap the fragile young man in his arms and let him know that he was safe, that the big AD would hold and protect him. Maybe then Alex could slip into sleep without fear. But while there were others about, Skinner didn't dare give into his impulses.

"Alex, mind if I have a look at you," Scully's soft tone seemed to put the young man at ease as he looked towards Scully with hopeful eyes.

"Are you going to do what you did before to make it go away? I don't want it to come back."

"Don't you remember what happened?" Skinner walked around the bed to sit on the other side, mirroring Scully's position. With Byers at the end of the bed, still holding the glass of ice water it looked like Alex was surrounded on all fronts. "About what made it go away before?"

"I remember looking at Scully and it was very mad and I remember being sick at Mulder's but every time I try to think of it, about what happened, everything gets fuzzy. I know what happened, but," a worried and confused look crossed over his face. He sobbed once before continuing, "I don't *know* what happened. I'm so confused. I don't like this."

Scully reached out to stroke his hair, letting the silky, raven tresses flow through her fingers. The soothing motion calmed the young man. Skinner, himself, reached out to take Alex's hand that had rolled off his lap. Alex's fingers weren't smaller then his; instead they were of an agile, slender nature that suggested femininity and vulnerability. Skinner's own fingers felt very square, flat, and cumbersome.

"Alex, we'll help you through this, you don't have to be afraid," Scully said.

"I'm not afraid, I just... I don't want it to come back. I don't like looking through my eyes and seeing what it's doing."

"Don't worry, we have a plan to get rid of it." Byers said, causing Scully and Skinner to look harshly at him. "I didn't tell him what it is."

"Why, what are you going to do?" Alex pulled away from both Scully's hand in his hair and Skinners handhold. He remembered that fire could kill it and images of him trapped in some box, him inside burning to death, flashed through his mind. "Where's Langley? It's infected Langley, hasn't it? You're going to trade me for him."

Skinner grabbed hold of Alex's face, forcing his brown eyes to meet those worried green ones. "It has not taken Langley. He's just going out to get some stuff to help defeat it. I promise, you're safe here. I, we will protect you." Skinner took back the hand he was holding and squeezed it reassuringly, the whole time feeling like a heel. Their whole plan hinged on vaccinating Alex before turning him over to the oilien to take over. Would Alex be able to forgive them, him, if they proceeded?

"Alex, besides not being able to remember certain things, is there anything else that's wrong?" Scully asked, getting back down to business. She was truly worried about Alex, wondering if his body could go under the stress of re-infection, even if he would be vaccinated and it would only be temporary. Plus any information she had now could help him in the future, when they could take him to a hospital.

"He's been having trouble seeing," Byers informed them.

"I can't see the letters in the book." Alex slid his hand along the blankets until they stumbled across the book. He pulled the bird book lying on the covers toward him. He flipped through a few pages, looking at the various birds, sometimes squinting and having a closer look. "I can read the bigger, thick, black print ok, but the little letters just look like fuzzy shading."

Scully pulled a pen light from her bedside drawer before positioning Alex to look directly at her. She shined the light in his eyes, seeing the reaction of his pupils. Then she positioned the light to the side, shining it through his eye to get a reflection off the back of his eyes on the retinas.

Once satisfied with the results, she put the pen light down and gently held Alex's head still while she asked him to follow the movement of her hand. She moved it slowly to the right, then the left. All the while noting his jerky eye movement. When she moved her finger in a vertical line, his eyes easily tracked her movement. Scully made another horizontal path, this time going a bit faster. She had to remind him to keep his head still as her finger moved back and forth.

"Will you keep it still?" Alex whined. He reached out both hands, which fumbled for a bit before he was able to grab Scully's hand and hold it still. Stunned, Scully allowed Alex to examine her hand, turning it around and over. "You have nice nails. They're real too, aren't they?"

"Umm, yeah." Scully turned a worried face towards Byers who held the glass out for Scully to take.

"I told you something was wrong, he's more then just sick."

"Yeah, I've been having trouble with my eyes. Everything looks funny," Alex said.

This slight lapse of memory stunned everyone silent. In a few moments Scully was able to pull herself together long enough to ask what was on her mind.

"How long were you infected with the oilien?" Scully was truly worried about the young man. He was the exact opposite of the oilienised Krycek and the image she had of him throughout the years. Seeing someone she considered pure evil, someone who should not be redeemable like Donnie Pfaster reduced to this shook her to the core.

Alex whimpered, trying to look for the answer to Scully's question but wanting not to remember it. Being trapped inside his body while an alien slowly went mad around him more then just frightened him, it terrified him.

"Do you remember what happened?" Skinner asked softly. He ran his own hand through Alex's hair and scooted just a little bit closer. Alex held onto Skinner's other arm like a child afraid of the dark might hold onto a favored stuffed teddy bear.

Alex turned his head into Skinner's thigh and started sobbing. "I don't remember," his voice cracked. "It's been so long. I was trapped with that thing for so long. And Mulder left me there. He left me to be experimented on and they used me." He hiccuped then pressed himself further into Skinner's thigh.

Skinner ran a soothing hand up and down Alex's side, the whole time trying to quell his burning arousal. The smell of Alex and having him pressed up against him seeking comfort was making him hard. His cock was thick and throbbing, like it was making itself ready to press itself between those wet, quivering lips.

Scully reached over to run her own reassuring hand down Alex's back. After a little while his sobbing decreased and he turned back to look at them.

"You won't let them take me again, will you? I'd rather die then go back. It was always so lonely and dark there. I don't want to go back."

"No, as Walter said, we'll protect you. We won't let anything bad happen to you." Scully picked up the bottle of sedatives and poured two pills out onto her palm. She held them out to Alex as she turned slightly to pick up the glass of ice water. "Take these, they'll help you feel better," she said absentmindedly.

"Dana," Skinner's warning voice said a brief instant before she felt one of Alex's hands touch her arm. She was able to turn her attention around to see Alex make not one, but two attempts to take the pills out of her hand.

Curious, Scully held the glass of ice water out a ways to watch as Alex attempted to take it. She was heavily reminded of the time when she was out with a few friends and somehow they had ended up trying on each other's glasses. One of the people in the group was this side of being labeled legally blind. She was extremely farsighted and had a stigma that made looking through her glasses very interesting. The other ladies had teased each other as they tried to pick up the salt to pass along. Alex's movements were the same as those uncoordinated, humorous attempts while wearing the glasses.

After a few tries, Alex was able to grab onto the glass with both hands. He slowly brought the edge to his mouth and tilted it back. He took a sip and choked it down then pressed a hand against his lips after a few small coughs. "Oh, that's slow. Can I have some warm water?"

Skinner, closer to the bathroom, picked the glass that was threatening to spill over, out of Alex's hand. He noted Scully's knowing look and Byers confused stare. He didn't understand why Alex would call the water slow but it looked like Scully might understand more of what's happening. He'd question her later.

Scully made Alex scoot down on the bed and make himself comfortable. She ran a hand through his hair, watching his eyes flutter as the sleep that he had fought so long started to take him over. He looked so peaceful and childlike as he tried to fight off the sleepiness. His long eyelashes fluttered like feathers, up and down as he tried to keep his eyes open. She brushed her hand over his forehead and down his cheek, which caused him to turn into her touch. He moved one of his hands to softly touch her thigh, as if to reassure him self that she really was there and not some mirage.

Skinner stood shell shocked at the edge of the bed. Beautiful Alex, with his green eyes being partially hidden by eye lids intent on sleep, and Sexy Scully, her delicate, caring hands comforting was probably the most erotic sight he had ever seen. Her diamond blue eyes were fixed on Alex's pale flesh, watching him with a slight smile on her gossamer lips. Red tipped, peach fingers disappeared and reappeared from the raven strands of his hair.

She looked like some mother comforting her child after a nightmare. And indeed Alex looked so peaceful, so childlike as he yawned, buried himself into the pillow and closer to Scully and slipped off into sleep. It didn't surprise him when he noticed that Scully was humming, occasionally letting out a couple of words to some lullaby her mother may have sang to her.

He sat down on the bed, so filled with lust and love that he wanted to carry Alex away in his arms, then make passionate love to Scully all day and all night long. She looked so heavenly to him, her red hair like a halo, glowing with the pureness of her heart, comforting the clipped winged angel asleep on her bed.

"What do you think is wrong with him," Byers said, bringing Skinner out of his daydream.

"Brain damage," Scully's words further brought him back to reality. The first image that came to his mind was those poor people who lived in wheel chairs and drooled on themselves.

No, that couldn't be what's happened to Alex. Not the man who fought demons so long and was about to free himself from them forever. No, the story couldn't end up with Alex like *that*.

"Under normal circumstances my medical opinion would be brain damage, but I suspect that it's something else. He said that Mulder left him and that he was infected. The two times that Mulder and Alex have crossed paths in relation to oiliens has been in Hong Kong 5 years ago and Tunguska 4 years ago.

"I think, maybe that Alex was infected and stayed infected since Hong Kong, which is why he led Mulder to Tunguska. He wanted another oilien infected human to help him with his plans."

"I'm not so sure of that. When he mentioned being to Russia, he started having a panic attack. My guess would be that he was infected in Russia, after his arm was... removed.... From what I understand the infected Krycek would be able to defend himself from one armed Russians intending him harm," Byers said.

"That may be true, but you're still looking at 4 to 5 years that he's been infected, living in conjunction with that *thing*. From what I know of the oiliens, they're parasitic, they infect a host, incubate and in a few days you have a baby gray. The one that's infected Alex is different, it's worked symbiotically, and using Alex's body like a life sized puppet. When he called the water slow, he meant cold. To us humans, the water would be cold, but to a temperature sensitive alien, the water would be classified as a threat. Cold slows down the oilien. Alex's body has been its vehicle for so long that I think we're looking at the results of the symbiotic relationship. His body is having a hard time functioning without the oilien."

"Are you saying that he's suffering from some sort of withdrawal?" Skinner asked.

"Yes... I think so." Scully sat silent, considering exactly what could be wrong with Alex. "Seizures happen from electrical storms of the brain. People who are drying out, from drugs or alcohol will sometimes suffer from seizures and other ailments. It could be that his body is trying to reset itself and is having a hard time of it. When... when the time comes for him to undergo re-infection, I think it would be a good idea to have an ambulance and crew on standby. There is no telling what could happen."

* * *

Springfield, New York 5467
Laurel Street.

Mulder smiled as he pulled up to the second house of the missing doctor's patient. He knew that this encounter was going to be unique. Out front he could see a definite Catholic influence. In front they had placed a statue of Mary in a homemade grotto. Several flowers grew up around the edge, making it look mysterious and hidden. Getting out of his car and having a closer look, he was able to see a flagstone placed in from of the figure. He had the unreasonable compulsion to drop a few coins or put a few flowers on the stone in offering to the "Goddess."

Mulder knocked on the door, looking around at a cement block by the door. Someone had placed blue and a few white marbles in a pattern until it formed the shape of a rosary. The door had a cross stitched flag of a quote out of the bible and two hands holding a heart topped by a crown.

He was so lost in his musing that it was a bit of a surprise when a little girl opened the door but the sight immediately arrested his attention. The little girl looked exactly like the little girl he had seen at the last house. The only difference, besides what she was wearing, was that this girl was about 2 inches taller and was probably a couple months older.

Hazel eyes stared at him in wonderment. She stood there staring at him through the mesh screen sucking on two fingers. Mulder studied the girl noting the similarities to the girl he had met earlier. They both had the same hazel eyes that looked like they were staring straight through him. Chestnut ringlets framed her pale little face. A long Romanesque nose led to two slightly pinked lips.

It took him a few moments to open his mouth and ask the child where her parents were. She smiled at him brightly before turning around and disappearing into the darkness of the house. In a few moments she returned with a short balding man following close behind.

"I'm sorry," the short man said, smiling brightly at him, "I didn't hear the door. Is there anything I can help you with, sir?"

Mulder fumbled for his wallet and pulled out his FBI identification. The man continued to smile as he tilted his head to get a better look. Mulder looked and then flipped the ID upside up.

"I'm with the FBI looking into the disappearance of Dr. Everett Hartford and a couple of other doctors from the Springfield clinic. If I may, can I ask you a couple of questions?"

"Please come in." He stepped back to let Mulder into the house. He held out his hand for Mulder to shake before leading him into a living room. "I'm Graham, if you wait a second, I'll get my wife, Cora."

Mulder and the little girl stared at each other as they waited in the living room. Then, for no reason Mulder could comprehend, the little girl smiled suddenly then approached him with upraised arms. Not knowing what else to do, Mulder raised the little girl and sat her on his lap. She soon leaned against him, resting her little head against his chest.

"Elizabeth Marie, don't bother the man." A woman even shorter then Graham entered the room and moved to take the girl from Mulder's lap.

"No, no, it's all right. She's not harming anything," Mulder said, putting a protective arm around the child. It was comforting to have her sitting in his lap. He liked that the little girl wasn't afraid or spooked by him.

"As long as she isn't bothering anything. Usually she's such a shy little girl, I'm surprised she isn't afraid of you."

"If she had any sense she would be afraid," Mulder said. Then upon thinking over his statement he corrected, "I bring work-a-holic to a whole new level. Most of my coworkers are a bit... off put on how dedicated I am."

"As long as you don't ignore the important things in life. Since Elizabeth Marie was born, why I don't think I've been happier. It was such a blessing from God," Graham said. "Do you have family yourself?"

"No, I don't have children or a wife. About the only family I have is my mother and Scully."

"You really should consider building a family. If it were not for Dr. Hartford, I know I wouldn't feel half the happiness I feel today." Graham smiled before leaning over to his wife Cora and giving her a soft peck on the cheek. She blushed at such a display of affection.

"If I may ask, how did you know Dr. Hartford? The company couldn't release official records but I was allowed access to their appointment books." Mulder knew the question was more rhetorical then needed. He knew what they were there for; the answer was sitting in his lap. He had no doubt that Dr. Hartford was cloning these girls. At the first house he visited the little girl there was a 'test tube baby' in that her conception was conducted outside the mother's uterus then later implanted. However the little details in their different circumstances could effect the modis operendi.

"I wish I could say we met under the best of circumstances, however that would be a falsity. We turned to Dr. Hartford we were desperate to have children. You see my wife wasn't blessed with the ability to create life. She miss carried twice before the doctors recommended that she have her uterus removed. It had nearly ruptured both times and there was great concern that a third pregnancy would kill her. We turned to the clinic and Dr. Hartford as a last resort. We were desperate to have children."

Graham clutched at Cora's hand as he leaned forward, as if he could press the importance of his words into Mulder. Cora cried softly, averting her face, trying to remain dignified and poised. Elizabeth Marie, sensing her parents' agitation, buried her little face into Mulder's chest seeking comfort.

"I understand, but there are other ways to have children, such as adoption."

"And we're taking that path. We're currently waiting for the department of social services to complete their review of our petition. We went to the Springfield clinic in hopes to have our own child, one of our life's blood. The clinic offered us the choice to have our own child, a choice we took."

"I assume you then used a surrogate mother?"

"Oh, yes, this wonderful young woman Michelle. She was so kind and helpful, carrying our little angel to full term."

"Did you find Michelle through the clinic?" At Graham's confirmation, Mulder needed to ask the next question. "I don't mean to be rude, but I noticed that both of you have blue eyes while Elizabeth Marie here," Mulder jiggled his leg to emphasize his point and bring a smile from the child, "has hazel eyes. And she is quite tall. She comes up to about your waist even though she's three."

"Two," Graham corrected. "We were concerned about that too until we saw that Cora's mother had hazel brown eyes. It was probably a recessive gene that just popped up."

"And children are getting bigger with each generation. My brother's children tower him by a foot. I'm just thankful that Elizabeth Marie is gaining some height, at least she won't be cursed with the problem of being short, not like her wimpy old parents." Cora squeezed Graham's hand and grinned at him lovingly.

Mulder thanked whatever gods were in existence that he wasn't catholic and this sappy. But he was happy for them. With their religious background and naive way, they more then likely would be approved by social services as prospective parents.

"Is there any way I could talk to the surrogate, Michelle. She may be able to provide useful information."

"Of course, I'm sure she would help out. I don't mean to spread rumors," Cora said as she stood up and picked a rolodeck off the desk, "but Dr. Hartford and her were very close, unnaturally so."

"Honey, I think I threw out the card with her address. I think I threw it away soon after Elizabeth Marie stopped breast-feeding. There was no need, really, to hang onto it. She had served God's purpose and we no longer needed to keep contact with her."

"Do you have her full name, maybe a photograph of her? It could help me in tracking her down."

"Of course." Cora turned her attention from the rolodeck and over to the bookshelves that lined one wall. Elizabeth Marie wiggled out of Mulder's lap and dashed over to the shelves. She raised her hands up and squealed her desire for her mother to pull down a picture book for her.

An audio memory kicked in, throwing Mulder back to a recent event. A time when pain lanced through his head, the sting of gasoline still in his eyes. The desire to help someone, the black confusion, and a man, no, not a man, a rebel, an alien rebel, Jeremiah Smith. And a girl, a girl in the back seat squealing in fear. A Samantha clone's last cry before the bubble and stink of green dissolving goo.

"Here it is." Cora declared, bringing Mulder out of the memory. But the damage was already done. He looked at Elizabeth Marie and Page, the girl from the first house, seeing the familiarity to another girl, a girl who was never given the chance to become a woman.

Pretty certain on what he would find, Mulder crossed the room, mildly distracted as Cora pulled down an old Dr. Sues book, one of Samantha's favorites. Upon taking the photo he was able to confirm his suspicion. The woman in the photo, clearly pregnant, was a Samantha clone. Slightly auburn curls framed a long, oval shaped face. Two bright hazel eyes with a softer nose then her brother prominent in the picture. The light was just right that it illuminated a beauty mark about an inch and a half to the right of her mouth.

Mulder turned his attention away from the photograph to the tiny clone of his sister. He pulled back her hair and gently forced her head forward. A scar was clearly visible on her neck in the same place that Scully and her daughter Emily had one. He was willing to bet that Page and the other patients of Dr. Hartford had the same mark.

"Sir?" Graham said. He had risen halfway out of his seat, curious at Agent Mulder's behavior.

"How did she get this scar?"

"She had an abnormal growth on her neck, we had it removed. How did you know that she had a scar there?"

Mulder's mouth was open to say that the little girl was actually a clone of his little sister and was now part of an alien/hybrid program that the government had been secretly conducting over the past couple of years. But the absence of Scully stopped him. Scully was his anchor, the thing that pulled him back from wrecking his ship against the rocks. Without her he was a lost ship at sea, being tossed about the ocean in the storm. He would have to display caution or else he could loose his chance at everything.

"I saw a different patch of skin and was curious. It must have been terrifying to you when she developed this growth."

"Oh, we were so scarred. She was only a few days old. If it were not for Michelle and Dr. Hartford, I think I would have come apart. They were so calm and confident that it was nothing and it turned out that it wasn't," Cora said.

"You've been very helpful," Mulder held out his hand for Graham to shake. "I hope your adoption petition goes through. If there is anything I can help with...."

"It's all in God's hands, but thank you for stopping by. I do so hope you find Dr. Hartford. He should proceed with his work, helping bless the world through the miracle of children." Graham led Mulder through the house.

Mulder thanked him one last time then went to his car where he sat for a moment in silence. He wanted to run, he wanted to get out and breathe the air. He needed to think. The answer, the reason for his quest was within his grasp. But it could so easily slip out of his fingers as it had several times before.

But this time he would be the victor. He would not walk away from this case empty handed.

* * *

Scully's Apartment That afternoon, about the same time

Skinner woke up slowly. A warm weight pressed against his side. Sleepily he stroked a hand up and down that extra warmth before pressing a soft kiss on that soft hair.

"Morning, Dana."

"Eww, that's not Scully, that's Krycek," Langley said.

Skinner opened his eyes and looked around. After a moment of disorientation he was able to place himself on his back, in Scully's bed next to Alex. The last thing he remembered was sitting down next to Alex after he had another seizure.

Langley was leaning back in a chair positioned at the end of the bed. He'd taken off his headphones and was watching them with his watery eyes. "I'd never thought that'd he'd be a cuddlier. But at least I win the bet. You didn't notice at all."

Skinner, looking at his position, trying both to see how to disentangle himself without waking Alex but reluctant to move because he was secretly enjoying the snug position Alex had burrowed in against his side.

"What bet?" Skinner asked, trying to distract Langley.

"After you fell asleep I bet Byers that you wouldn't notice. He gave me two to one odds, how was I supposed to pass up that type of opportunity, especially since he white washed me and Frohike's bet."

"Please don't tell me I'm going to regret this," Skinner said under his breath. "What bet did he win that you had to make up?"

"Why you and Scully shacking up, of course. I had 350 on Mulder and Scully getting it on. Frohike had 200 on him and the Doc. Byers wiped us out on calling you and her. Of course he also had gotten in on her and Jeffrey, Krycek, Kirsch, me, or him. Basically everybody but Frohike and Mulder. Didn't think he'd actually win."

Skinner gently pushed against Alex, trying to get him to roll over to the other side of the bed. Apparently being contrary, he snuggled even closer into Skinner's side.

"Ick, this is definitely a Scully moment." Langley didn't even wait for a curious look or questions from Skinner to elaborate on his comment. "She came in to check on Krycek and saw how he was all snugly. Said something about Papa bear finding a Baby bear and that Mulder makes a better Goldielocks any way. Told me that if I even think of calling her Mama bear, she's taking her gun out and shooten her some gunmen."

"Of course, that's really going to stop you."

"Zackly. And Mama bear's asleep on the couch. She and Byers are gonna go to the lab to look at Krycek's blood work a little more after she's had some rest. She wants to have as many test as she can done 'fore he's carted off. Doesn't want to take any chances."

"You're going to have to get off me eventually," Skinner said, shoving at Alex even harder. "Its either that or wet the bed and I am waayy too old for that."

"Oh-Key," Langley said, rising out of his chair. "It's your turn to watch him since you're up and all. I'll go make something to eat. I got instant oatmeal for the guy on oilien vacation and toaster waffles and pizza for the rest of us. With real syrup, not that healthy, sugar free stuff the Doc's so fond of."

After Langley left, off to make the meal for the campers, Skinner went into the bathroom to relieve himself.

* * *

Alex was cold; tendrils of iciness crawled up his legs, trapping him against the ground. He yelled at the living ice, trying to pull his feet from the prison he'd stepped in.

The ice mocked him, laughing at his fruitless efforts. The crystalline fingers clawed up his legs, pulling and tearing at his skin.

He screamed at it, pounding his fists angrily against the ice casing.

The ice only grabbed at his hands, ripping them off and trapping the flesh against its icy form, the whole time laughing at his impotency against it.

Alex looked at the stumps of his arms in disbelief. Strands of the icy creature clung to the ends, freezing them as he looked on. Desperate and panicked, he kicked at his legs, wishing to get away from this devouring death.

His legs broke off just below the knee and he fell on the ground. In disbelief he watched what was the crystal swallowing up his lower legs.

He kicked, making the truncated knee stumps dig into the soil, trying to put distance between the ice and himself but it slithered over the ground, turning every thing it touched into diamonds.

The frost heaved up, wrapping its tendrils about him, trapping him again. He waved his stumps at it, trying to get the creature to leave him alone. A glassy lump arose out of the thing and hovered before him. It undulated, forming a face.

Looking into the inky ice, he recognized his own face, complete with two emeralds, hard and pure where his eyes would be.

Alex wasn't given the chance to scream as the face descended upon him, turning everything into the coldness.

* * *

"Shh, Alex, come on, wake up," Skinner shook the shoulder of the distressed young man.

Alex rose out of the depths of sleep, slowly and jerkily, unable to pull himself out of the darkness that was always threatening to swallow him. He fought against Skinner, unable to place where and when he was. His instincts for survival coming into play to make up for the lack of coordination and awareness.

"Wake up, I'm here and I won't let anything happen to you," Skinner whispered as he bent down to lightly brush his lips against that oh so tempting mouth.

Upon feeling someone else's mouth on his, Alex jerked out of sleep, terrified by the thought that oil would soon be following the kiss, perverting it. He cried out in fear when he saw a dark shape looming over him.

Skinner held onto the man as he struggled to get away, the entire time chanting soothing words in the warmest tone he could manage. Since the only person he practiced that voice with was with Scully during their affair, it was a little rusty and probably caused a longer time span of struggling before Alex stilled.

"Shh, it hasn't returned. I'm still here," Skinner reveled in the feeling of having his arms around the young man. He was much heavier then Dana. He filled up his arms, providing a larger warmth and more flesh to press into. The one thing that was the most disorienting was how hard and fit his body was. It was hard to reconcile the image of sickness with such silent strength and hard body.

A shudder that passed through Alex brought Skinner out of his musings. The pleasure that he had felt while holding Alex tight against him turned itself into self-loathing. Here he was not only taking advantage of a sick man, but also doing it on the bed, in the bedroom of the woman he loved. He and Dana had made love on this bed. They had held each other in their arms and quietly whispered secrets to each other through out the night until the soft rose rays of morning sunk across the sheets.

He pulled quickly away, punishing himself with cold and distance.

After watching Alex keep himself in a little protective ball, his heart softened a little. While he had a larger commitment to Dana, he was still responsible for Alex. The younger man was confused and scared and the only thing really standing between him and permanent slavery was them.

Skinner reached out a comforting hand, unable to resist touching the younger man. "Would you like some warm oatmeal? Langley is making it for breakfast. I could bring you some."

Alex shifted on the bed. "I'm not really hungry," he said without much conviction. He shifted on the bed again, uneasily, like something was paining him.

"Are you sure? The food would do you good."

"No, I'm ok." Alex stayed on the other side of the bed, readjusting himself as before.

"There's something bothering you. Tell me, maybe I can help."

"No, no, there's nothing wrong. You should go and absorb."

Skinner shook himself, instantly understanding what Alex just meant.

"What's wrong," Skinner practically ordered.

It took a few moments for Alex to respond and when he did his voice was softly embarrassed. "I have to go to the bathroom."

Skinner chuckled at that. It was something so mundane and... human that he hardly noticed as Alex shifted himself to the edge of the bed and tried to roll off. Some how he managed to get his feet under him but that was about as close to standing that Alex made. He teetered this way and that, coming very near to knocking a lamp over. Skinner was at his side in only seconds steadying him.

Alex cocked a grin and looked at Skinner. "And I thought only the females needed support groups to go to the bathroom."

Beginning to become adjusted to Alex's skewed speech; Skinner only chuckled as he helped the young man into the bathroom.

Once inside, Skinner automatically tried to position Alex to sit down on the toilet but Alex fought him.

"I don't need your help. I want to go by myself." Alex batted Skinner's hand away, trying to remain standing and facing the toilet. Alex started sinking on his one side and Skinner had to correct his posture again. "I told you I can urinate myself. Even it... it..."

"Breath, Alex, breath." Skinner ran a hand down Alex's back, the other gripping the elbow tightly so that the young man didn't do a header into the porcelain. "You're still unsteady on your feet. You can do it on your own; I just don't want you putting your head through the wall. It took Dana forever to get it *just* the way she wanted it."

Alex wasn't listening to him. He was already intent on getting himself out in the open and positioning himself towards the hole. Skinner was glad that he left the seat up when he heard Alex trapped in some nightmare. He suspected the younger man couldn't see the bowl all that well. The only saving grace of him actually hitting inside the bowl instead of anointing it was the blue toilet water. Scully used to use white tablets until she discovered that when the water stopped turning blue, it was time for a new tablet. She had tossed in a new one every three months like it says on the package, but with her being away on cases often it was pretty much a waste and so had started using the blue tablets.

Once he was done, Alex tucked himself back in and turned to the sink without flushing. When Skinner turned around, Alex had stopped washing his hands; instead he was intent on watching himself in the mirror.

"Is that me?" Alex brushed a hand tentatively over the image in the mirror. To Skinner, it looked like he was shocked when he only felt the smooth pane of glass. Alex pressed his hand hard against the glass like he was pushing something.

The mirror squeaked as Alex slid his fingers over the mirror before leaving the glass to touch his own face. "That can't be me. I don't look like this. That isn't me." Alex suddenly banged his hand against the glass as if he could bat the image away.

"Alex, stop it," Skinner moved quickly and grabbed his hand before he could bang it against the glass again. Skinner hugged the young man close to him, keeping his arms pinned to his side. "It is you. It's just you and your body. It didn't change when the oilien left."

"That's not it." Alex shifted his hand in Skinner's embrace to run it over his face and neck, exploring his body through touch, a sense that sometimes wasn't allowed to him. "I'd see him from time to time, watching me. He would stare at me, judging me, know I was weak. He hated me."

"Who?"

"Him," Alex pointed at his reflection.

"That's you, that's your reflection. It can't judge you or condemn you. It is just an image." Skinner couldn't help himself; he started pressing kisses into Alex's hair, the feel of the strands like hundreds of little fingers caressing. His hands started pressing into and over Alex's body, exploring the flesh he denied himself.

"Please."

Alex's moan brought Skinner back to himself. He shouldn't be doing this, he couldn't be doing this but he was unable to stop. He had gazed at Scully for months wishing he could reach out and touch her, but denied himself. He was tired of denying himself, of walling himself in. So many things he had missed, so many things had passed him by. It was time to stop letting things happen, it was time to take charge.

"What do you want? What do you need?" Skinner continued his motions, burying him in the crook of Alex's neck. Alex went limp in his arms as Skinner kissed, bit, and tongued the flesh present to him.

Instead of answering Alex's hand strayed down to the sweats he was wearing. His hand slipped inside to grab the somehow strange but familiar phallus. As his hand closed around it he gave a start, surprised at the sensation there. In wonderment he pulled himself out once again and stared at it, seemingly puzzled what to do next.

"Here, let me." Skinner reached out and pumped some hand lotion into his palm. He then slid his fingers around Alex's shaft, intertwining their hands. Slowly Skinner started to move their combined hands up and down, each pass sending quivers through Alex.

Alex's legs moved apart, giving them both easier access to his cock and balls. His hips started moving, grinding himself back against Skinner whom had to bite his lip to keep himself from acting on the action. This was for Alex, not him.

Alex moaned and shook, his hand stilling then flinging around for something, anything to hold onto. Skinner held the young, beautiful man tight as he started pushing Alex towards the edge. It wasn't long before a white stream of semen erupted, splashing against the counter and mirror.

Skinner watched Alex through the mirror, seeing the sleepy contentment written all over his face. The young man was pretty much boneless in his arms. Skinner chuckled to himself as he milked the last few drops from the shaft and tucked it in.

"You're so beautiful, you know that don't you?" Skinner continued to caress Alex, brushing the fingertips of one hand over the puckered nipples. The other he soothed up Alex's body until he was able to sink his fingers in those raven tresses, manipulating the young man's head so that Skinner was able to access Alex's warm mouth.

Alex's mouth opened easily, letting Skinner's tongue in to explore, to feel the soft ridge of gums compared to the hard edge of teeth. Slowly he sucked in his breath, stealing the oxygen from Alex's lungs, tasting the air that he breathed. It was warm and tingled over his tongue and he tried to see if he could taste that extra bit of muskyness that Alex transuded.

Skinner's lungs became full and so he reversed the flow of air, gently blowing in to Alex, presenting his oxygen back to him. As soon as he started, he realized his mistake. Alex pushed against him roughly, trying to get away from the kiss, scared of what could happen.

"I'm sorry, Alex, I didn't mean to scare you."

Alex continued to push away, not letting Skinner's arms settle on his body. In his fright, he pushed too hard and ended up toppling himself on the ground, landing hard. He continued to push Skinner away till the older man stopped trying. Alex curled up into a protective ball and tried to push himself in the gap between the sink and the tub.

"No I can't, it's so hard," Alex babbled. "It's been too long and it's too much. It's gone but it won't leave me alone. No more, I don't want any more. It's all too much."

"Alex, what's wrong?" Skinner kneeled in front of Alex, watching tears swell in those beautiful frightened eyes. He reached out gently to wipe away some tears that had spilled over and were trailing down his flushed cheeks. Alex flinched back making Skinner abort his movement.

"I've been trapped with it so long. I thought when it abandoned me I'd be ok. That everything would go back to what it was like before but it isn't. Everything is tilted and twisted. Everything is so loud and bright and extravagant and so *there.* And I'm so afraid. Every where I turn I see it, slithering over the walls, crawling after me. I can taste it, I can breath it, and I'm never going to be alone am I? It's always going to be there."

"It's gone, Alex. It's gone and soon you won't have to worry about it ever again. I promise."

"But how do you know? I thought it was gone before but it came back. It found me, it wanted me and it found me and infected me and it'll never go away. And I can't fight it, I'm so tired and weak and I can't see right and I don't think right and I can't fight. It's going to come back and I'll never get rid of it." As he said those words, Alex started to harshly run his hands up and down his arms, like he was sloughing something away.

"Alex, Alex, stop it." Skinner grabbed Alex's hands, stopping him before he went farther. The young man looked at him in surprise, as if he had forgotten Skinner was still there. "It's gone and it's not coming back, I promise. You've gone through a traumatic experience and it's just going to take some time to readjust and until you do, I'll be here to protect you. Nothing is going to hurt you while I'm still here. Do you understand that?"

"Why."

Skinner creased his brow. He didn't know if Alex was saying yes and had gotten the wrong word or not. It sounded like an affirmation but that could be because Skinner was expecting one.

"Do you understand when I say, I'll be there to protect you?"

"Why." Alex squeaked out again. "Nobody wants to save me, nobody ever tries to help me. Every one just wants to kill me; they just want to use me. You want to use me to. You'll use me against it so that it won't control the poison toys inside you."

"Oh, Alex, is that what you think? I don't have to worry about the nanocytes. It left the palm pilot on the table when it attacked Scully. Do you remember that?" Alex shook his head no. "It left it on the table and I was able to turn it off. Langley is sure that he'll be able to hack into the programming and deactivate them. I don't need you around to stop the nanos, I need you around because I care about you."

Skinner could practically see the sickeningly sweet words crystallize in the air. They would float, the pink candy ribbons from his mouth to Alex's ears. While he realized that silence wasn't strength anymore and was going to revise him self, even these words were almost too hard to voice out loud. However, Alex needed to hear them. Alex had been cut off from the world for so long, that he needed every proof that he was still wanted in it.

"I want you, Alex. I want to help you, I want you to get better, and I want to get to know you. I want to know the fighter I know is inside. I may not have always liked your actions in the past, but I always respected you. You're determined like Mulder, you're strong like Dana, and I knew that if I was ever able to get you on my side, I'd know you'd watch my back. You have always been someone to fear because you commanded it. You are a force to contend with."

"But that wasn't me, it was that thing, inside me, controlling me."

"But you were still inside fighting it. And before it, that was you I dealt with in the stairway. It was you who was chained to my balcony and was still able to defend him self. I know I wouldn't have thought of that, I wouldn't have been able to do that. You fight and endure, that's what you do, that's who you are. The man I admire."

Skinner stroked away the tears spilling down Alex's cheeks. Several had blazed a trail down his face to hang off his chin. Skinner was greatly tempted to kiss the tears away, to taste the saltiness of Alex's pain and make it disappear.

Alex leaned into Skinner, letting the bigger man's strength become his anchor, his rock in the storm. Skinner's chest felt very solid and warm, his arms like that comfortable, reliable quilt a grandmother made that she used to wrap you up in when you were ill. Alex snuggled into that warmth, that strength. Alex had to wonder if he'd be alone anymore, that if he cried out in his sleep if Skinner, no Walter, would be there for him. Would Walter be the protector of his heart, the protector he had been searching for? Would Walter be the one to see him, to really *see* him instead of passing him off as a shadow that followed you around?

"Walt, Alex," Scully's musical voice interrupted the moment. Skinner had to curse himself, knowing that his other love was so close and may not have understood if she had caught them. He would have to deal with this complex situation soon, but for now he would let matters be. He helped Alex up as he yelled that they would be right out.

"That cholesterol monstrosity that Langley made is ready, if you're daring. I made some real oatmeal with some honey and bee pollen for Alex to eat, that is unless you want reconstituted mush with," Scully rolled her eyes, "blue sharks. He says he only needs 8 more Quaker packets to get himself a color-changing bowl. It's times like these that I wonder why Mulder likes them so much, and then I remember, Mulder's never grown up either."

"You sound down right... chipper this morning or rather this afternoon," Skinner corrected himself upon seeing the bedside clock.

"I have a house full of men, what's not to be chipper about," contrary to Scully's words, her face scrunched up in a distasteful grimace. "They always leave the toilet seat up, they leave hair in the drains, they never know where anything is, they usually have a funny smell to them," Alex stiffed at his clothes as he laid back against the pillows, "present company excepted. Women on the other hand know how to live together without wanting to castrate each other."

"You can't castrate females, at least that you couldn't the last time I checked," Alex said.

"My point exactly," Scully said. Alex frowned; not getting the point that Scully was trying to make. "Byers is almost done eating and so he and I are going to go back to the lab to run a few more tests." Scully informed them as she picked up her medical bag. She took out the equipment she needed to take a few more blood samples and laid them out on the bedside table.

"What are you going to do?" Alex eyed the sharp looking instruments. He couldn't see exactly what they were. All he saw were long, metal pointy things. The light shining off the objects somehow reminding him of some other place, another time filled with pain. He didn't panic, knowing Skinner was nearby. But he still reached out to take a hold of that firm hand.

"I'm just going to draw a little blood."

"What do you need those for, then?"

Scully furrowed her brow. "They're what I'm going to use." At Alex's confused look, she felt she had to ask. "Alex, do you understand what I mean when I am going to draw some blood?"

"It means that you're going to draw some blood." Alex shook his head in confusion, "but why would anybody draw blood. I'd draw something like those birds, something people would like looking at."

"Alex, I'm not going to draw blood, I'm going to use a needle to take a sample of your blood."

Alex opened his mouth in confusion. He ran the words that Scully had said through his brain a couple times, trying to reconcile the two images. As with the joke, he could not figure out what he had missed. "I don't understand," he said, switching his confused glare from Scully to Walter and back again.

"Draw is a word that sometimes means take, usually in the context of taking a liquid. As in the farmer will draw some water from his well." Scully explained as she positioned Alex's arm so that she had access to his veins. "I am going to take a sample of your blood or I'm going to draw some blood."

She continued with her vocabulary lesson as she tied the truncate around his arm and felt out the vein. Alex was pretty distracted by her voice until she pressed the needle into his arm. The slight sting of pain bringing him back to him self.

"Is that mine?" Alex asked as he watched the small glass cylinder turn from a ghostly white to a pure red.

Scully pulled out the now filled vial and picked up the other sample tube to fill. "It's your blood. It's a liquid that flows through your veins bringing nutrients to cells for it to make into energy." She continued her dialogue, keeping Alex distracted. She was slightly disturbed that Alex seemed to have forgotten about one of the more important aspects of human... earthly biology.

Alex yawned loudly and turned his attention from Scully to Walter. He stared into those reassuring chocolate eyes. He liked those eyes, they were clean and white and Walter would protect him. He would keep his eyes clear of the oilien.

A sharp pain in his left arm brought him back to Scully. He saw several long metal objects on the nightstand. Some were ghostly white, other's bright red, and the rest silver in appearance. It sparked off a memory of another time, another place of fear and pain.

"What are those?" Alex pointed at the collection on the nightstand. He had to point with his right hand because Scully was holding his arm.

"They're equipment I use." Scully shot a concerned look over Alex at Walter. So far they had noticed two memory lapses but they could be missing more as Alex was extremely worn out from his ordeal with the oilien, despite the fact that he had several days of recovery.

Alex gave another big yawn, nearly breaking his jaw in the intensity of it. Scully smiled conspiracy before pulling the covers up and tucking him in slightly. "Would you like Papa bear to read you a story, Baby bear?"

Two can play at this game, Mama bear, Skinner told himself. "I think that Baby bear would rather have Mama bear tell him a story. That's what mama bears do."

"Now that was uncalled for," Scully scowled at Skinner. She picked up the empty glass on the nightstand and went to the bathroom to fill it up.

"Am I really your baby bear?" Alex asked sweetly.

Skinner had to smile to himself and was thankful that he was able to grasp the metaphor. It seemed like the oddest things that confused him. He wanted to tell him that he was *his* baby bear, but Scully deserved some payback. "You're Mama Dana bear's Baby bear." At Alex's sad look he had to add, "You're my Baby bear too, but don't tell anyone, our secret."

Scully came back to the room and put the water on the nightstand. Her whole body language had changed; she seemed much colder and more distant. "Skinner, I need to talk to you, come." She left just as icily, going into the bathroom, waiting patiently for him.

He could tell that Scully somehow knew, he couldn't guess how she knew that he wanted Alex, but somehow she knew all the same. Feeling like the ax was about to cut his head on the chopping block, he made sure Alex was tucked in. The young man was pretty much asleep. The last fighting urges were battling sleep. His eyes struggled to remain open but it wouldn't be much longer before he was asleep. It was pretty obvious that the trip to the bathroom had worn him out.

"Is there anything I should be warned about, such as the risk of an STD or such?" Scully's icy voice dripped venom. She pointed at the smear of semen over the mirror and part of the countertop. "We never really talked about that. I tried to avoid it, hell we both avoided it, somehow not able to admit to ourselves what this relationship really was. We couldn't admit it, that maybe we were just somehow substitutes for a deeper, unrequited love. Me with Mulder, you with your wife. I mean, you never did divorce her, but how does one divorce a demon that disappears. But that wasn't it, that wasn't what you were holding back. How could you?!? How could you play around with my feelings, play around with my hopes? I had finally admitted that I want you, *YOU*, not that brainless idiot that I have to call a partner. I can't believe I was this naive."

"Dana, wait, you don't understand." Skinner held the door closed, not allowing Scully to escape until he had a chance to explain.

"Is that why he offered himself to you when he was dropped off? I've seen the way you look at him, you enjoy having him at your mercy you enjoy having him helpless. Is there anything else I should know about you, about your bents?"

"I have not fucked Krycek if that is what you're asking about." Scully turned her icy gaze at the proof of their earlier activities. "I have never had sex with Krycek. I did, however, help jerk him off. He's confused, Dana, he doesn't understand what's going on, he needed my help."

"And that's supposed to make it better? Do you just go after people in your power, those lower on the totem poll? Is it just some power trip, an extension from your position as my boss, the big, strong Assistant Director?"

"No, it isn't like that at all."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know. I know I do love you. I love your strength, I love your caring, the switching from lover to Doctor and back again. I admire your unflappability; I love your faith in the world. I love your beauty, I love the person who you are with me." Skinner moved to put his hand on her face, to touch that smooth, pale flesh he loved to kiss but she just shrugged him off.

"No, I can't handle this right now. I need to think about this. I need to get to the hospital and run those blood tests."

"Dana, please."

"No, I need a little time to myself to think." Scully pushed Skinner aside from the door and soon she had breezed out of the apartment, Byers hurrying to catch up with her.

"What's wrong with Red?" Langley asked as he brought a half-eaten slice of pizza and a bowl with him.

"Nothing a rewind button wouldn't cure."

"Ahh, argument. I wonder if there is any stipulations to that bet, maybe I could win after all," Langley said as he wandered out of the room leaving Skinner alone with Alex. He sat down on the bed, watching the young man sleep. He looked so angelic, so innocent. Skinner reached out a hand and stroked the soft hair, loving the feel of those raven strands sifting through his fingers. He'd already wrecked one relationship, he prayed that he wouldn't ruin a second one. He would do everything in his power to hold onto Alex, to keep that peace and happiness he deserved.
* * *

Police Precaint 270
About an hour later

Detective Dancer reviewed the information from the Skinner case one more time. Numerous fingerprints, hair, and skin samples had been lifted from the crime scene. They had run the fingerprints and soon a match had been found. The prints belonged with former FBI Agent Alex Krycek, missing in action. He was wanted for questioning in connections to several open cases. The same names, Mulder, Scully, and Skinner were written on all the reports.

Accusations of conspiracy against the American people, murder, espionage, and charges of assault colored the whole situation. She had been able to track down copies of the original reports, the language shaded with hatred, suspicion, and distrust. Special Agent Fox Mulder, one of A.D. Skinner's agents, wrote most of the reports. What was surprising, or rather not surprising, were the reports written against Agent Mulder. In her possession were reports written by several Agents accusing Agent Mulder of abusing a witness and mole in conjunction with Terrorists. In fact Agent Mulder had taken Krycek and lost him, a crucial witness in against the Terrorists.

The whole situation didn't make sense to her. Nothing in the records of Krycek's alleged criminal activity suggested the cruelty that was displayed in the vivisection of Ms. Babcock. The absolute hatred against Krycek from Mulder, Scully, and Skinner- while understandable if the alleged crimes had occurred, even though there was no evidence to back up the accusations-forced her to stop and think that maybe something even sinister, more secret was at work. It didn't help the trio's reputation that they were so close. While she was not pleased with her fellow officers' accusation of Skinner and Scully having an illicit relationship, she had picked up that the two might be involved.

But it wasn't up to her to make scandalous accusations. She needed to gather more information before she proceeded. In a few seconds she had dialed the cell phone number that A.D. Skinner had given her. After the usual greetings and announcements, she asked him if they could meet in private. He reluctantly agreed and told her to meet her at a familiar address.

When the phone settled in it's cradle, Officer Dancer felt relieved that she had followed her intuition to look into this case deeper. She hated the thought of a dirty cop, especially three- or four, Krycek wasn't getting off easy with her, either, rubbed her the wrong way.

Cautious, she slipped a copy of all the information she had gathered on another cop's desk. It would probably be a week before Officer Rowers found them, giving her ample opportunity to retrieve them if the case didn't blow up in her face, but that intuition, that gut feeling that had saved her life many times said everything was going to change.
* * *

Scully's Apartment
15 minutes later

Skinner let in Detective Dancer, who was looking as beautiful and delicate as she had the night Ms. Babcock died. But he wasn't fooled. He knew that strength and power could be held in any form. If it were not for the fact that Scully was not a violent woman, he was sure he'd have a few bruises from the mess he had made of their relationship. He almost wished that Scully had hit him, at least that he could deal with and not this icy distance.

"Please, have a seat," Skinner offered. He saw the blankets and pillows from Scully's nap on the couch and quickly moved to pick them up. "I'm staying with a friend who insisted I stayed. Didn't want me to check into a hotel when there was room," he added, avoiding pronouns that could attach gender to the friend.

"Quite all right. I think I would have stayed with a friend myself, but I would have stayed around the station house rather then take a couple personal days off." At Skinner's inquiring glance, she added, "I called the Hoover building first in an effort to contact you. I had assumed that you'd try to stay within a secure area if someone was willing to kill my house cleaner in an effort to get at me."

Ms. Dancer sat elegantly onto the sofa. She refused a drink when Skinner offered. After the pleasantries were done, they got right down to business.

"I wanted to meet with you in person to discuss this case. We've gotten back the results of the preliminary finger print check. It seems the fingerprints found at the crime scene belong to a former agent of yours."

Skinner sat down heavily on a nearby chair. The consequences of the oiliens actions impacting his life and Alex's weighing him down. While he was an officer of the law, he knew that he could not reveal Alex's where abouts. If Alex were jailed for Babcock's murder, whatever was left of the young man would disappear and he would never be given the chance to know Alex.

"The agent, an Alex Krycek, is listed as missing in action by the FBI and is wanted for questioning in connection to several crimes." Detective Dancer watched Skinner closely, watching his reactions to the news. So far she had picked up that Skinner wasn't all that surprised that Krycek was a suspect.

"Is Krycek is the main suspect? Was there any other fingerprints or tissue samples?" Skinner knew he was reaching at straw but if there were a chance to save Alex, he'd take it. If the thugs that were trying to kill the oilien Krycek had left evidence at his place, maybe he could pin the crime on them somehow.

"I'm afraid not. The only fingerprints we were able to pick up were yours, Ms. Babcock's, her son's, and Mr. Krycek's. However, if you think I should look in other directions, if you think this Krycek isn't capable of..."

A strangled, choking sound interrupted Dancer. Loud thumps and bangs came from the bedroom. Dancer turned around curious as to what the sound could be. Skinner rose out of the seat; part of him pulled to check to see if Alex was ok. He didn't trust Langley that much.

The sound stopped quickly as it started. Dancer turned around to face Skinner, wondering if she should investigate, that was until she heard a high pitched voice calling out for help.

"Shit, Skinner, get in here. He's stopped breathing again." It didn't take a second word before Detective Dancer and A.D. Skinner rushed into Scully's bedroom.

"He started to shake and shiver with another of those seizures things and then he just stopped breathing," Langley said.

Detective Dancer was already in motion, throwing her coat off and pulling up her sleeves. In a quick glance she was able to take in the situation presented for her. One Caucasian male looking like the other side of death lying in the middle of a large bed, surrounded by pillows in a nest like formation. Vacuous black eye sockets and large bruises over the visible skin added contrast to the waxen face. Even still she was able to recognize the male as her main suspect, Alex Krycek.

But thought about arresting him were put aside as she shed her jacket, rolled up her sleeves, kneeled on the bed, and tilted the head back. She was checking his vitals when Skinner pushed her to the side and started on CPR. Between the two of them, Dancer pressing against his chest while Skinner gently blew air into the injured man's lungs.

Time seemed to stretch out as the two worked, handing off prime attention on the body. Dancer was about to give up, about to pull Skinner away from a hopeless cause when Alex Krycek started struggling, thrashing under the A.D.

Skinner picked up the shaking Alex, pulling him into his arms and whispering words of comfort. He didn't want Alex coming to with a stranger in his face. He held him close, listening to muttered sobs of fear.

Dancer turned to the AD&D wannabe rocker who was standing shocked at what had occurred. His gaze was stuck on the two. Quickly taking charge of the situation, she got off the bed and swung the man around to look at her.

"Who are you and what's going on?"

"Uh, uh, Langley, ma'am. I've been watching the oilien boy off and on for the past couple of days."

"Oilien boy?"

"Uh, Krycek, ma'am. He's been infected by this...well he's been sick and the Doc and Bald Mountain have been trying to help him get better."

"I think I can handle this Langley," Skinner interrupted, turning his attention from the man in his arms to his companions. Alex was burrowed deeply in his chest, oblivious to everything but those strong arms comforting him.

"You do know you're holding my only suspect."

"A suspect who I can tell you did not kill Ms. Babcock. Alex has been held prisoner for the past couple of years. He's still recovering from his ordeal and doesn't have the strength to walk to the bathroom unassisted, let alone kill someone as gruesomely as Babbs was killed."

"But..." Langley said but Skinner only glared at him, making him keep his mouth shut.

"Shouldn't he be in a hospital, witness protection or something? If he has been held prisoner, why haven't you come to the police? I'd be more then happy to help."

"We can't put him into the hospital yet. It's still got Frohike," Langley said.

"There are some loose ends to tie up before we take that avenue. If it were not for the fact that they traded Alex back for Frohike, we would already have Alex in the hospital."

"But, why?"

"It wants oilien boy. He got sick and so it handed him over to us to fix him and things. When oilien boy's better, it's going to trade Frohike for Alex."

"Would somebody please explain to me who `it' is and what's an oilien boy?"

"'It' is the enemy, some... one who has kept Alex prisoner for the past couple of years. Oilien is the name of a virus, or at least a slang term for it. Alex has been infected by this virus for the past couple of years. He is not currently infected, which causes concern for his health."

Alex whimpered in Skinner's arms and he stopped to comfort the frightened young man. He ran a soothing hand up and down Alex's back until he sagged in his embrace. Gently Skinner laid Alex back on the bed.

"Watch." Skinner ordered. He picked up the water glass that had become a permeate fixture on the bedside table. As an after thought he picked up the cold bowl of oatmeal instead. "Alex, you need to eat something."

"Don't wanna." Alex was pretty out of it; he wasn't absolutely sure what was going on around him. He reached out to pull himself back into those warm arms but Skinner pushed him away, telling him again that he needed to eat, if only a little.

After a few moments of fumbling, Alex was able to snag the bowl Skinner was holding out to him. He was able to eat a few spoonfuls before he grimaced at the taste and handed them back. Alex's hands didn't quite get the bowl back to Skinner and he had to act pretty quick to catch the bowl before it dumped it's contents over the bed. Next Skinner held out the water glass which Alex, again, had trouble taking. His hands shook as he grabbed the glass in a two handed grip. After swallowing back half the contents of the glass, Alex laid back against the bed. He continued holding the glass as he lay back against the mattress. The water spilled every where, causing Alex to whimper once in fear before settling down when Skinner held out a hand to comfort him.

Once Skinner had Alex settled, he pulled Detective Dancer out into the living room, away from Alex.

"Walter," Alex's sleepy voice pulled him back into the bedroom. Alex's head was turned to the bedroom door, his eyes wavering to stay open. His red lips suddenly pulled back into a feral expression, the eyes turning dangerous, like a cat hissing at his master. "I may be simple right now, but I won't be always."

Skinner swallowed visibly while Langley chuckled, both of them understanding his meaning. While Skinner was relieved to see the spark, that animalness that was so… Alex Krycekian, he still wanted to hold onto his `Baby Bear.'

"What's happened to him?"

"He's been having problems with his co-ordination and sight. He's suffered from memory problems as well as seizures and unpredictable mood swings, usually in the direction of fright. There is a possibility of brain damage from the abuse he's endured. Agent Scully is right now at a lab running tests on his blood. There is no sign of infection, of which we can be thankful for."

"But... Is there anything I can do?" Dancer said, reviewing the information. It was obvious that the young man was sick, drained. His eyes were dark and partially sunken into his skull. His hands had grasped feebly when he had taken the items from Skinner. The bruises and cuts, signs of abuse, confirmed that he was not well enough to attack anybody, let alone mutilate and tear apart a body as the corpse had been.

"Right now Agent Scully and I are handling it. I would appreciate it, however, if you kept this all under wraps for a while. I'm supposed to meet with someone tonight in an effort to help release Alex and Frohike from this nightmare."

"Are you sure, sir?"

"I don't want to involve anyone in less I have to. The fewer people involved the better."

"I don't think I could do that in good conscious. You mentioned that Agent Scully is gone and that you will need to leave soon, I can stay here for the night, an extra pair of eyes and a gun to assist you. Having an extra hand could come in handy, as I know of a clinic that doesn't ask questions. We could move him before you go."

"Look, detective, I know you are trying to be helpful, but we can handle it."

"No, I don't think you can." Dancer took a step forward, her stance intimidating and indicating she wouldn't take no for an answer. "He needs medical attention, even I can see that. If he has another seizure and CPR isn't enough, what are you going to do then?"

"He is receiving medical attention, Agent Scully is a registered doctor."

"And is that blondy a registered nurse? Taking care of Alex Krycek while the doctor isn't present?"

"Look, you don't need to involve yourself…"

"And I don't care," Dancer said. "If I'm not going to pursue the Krycek angle, give it some time for this mess to straighten up, I want to know what's going on. If you think I can't look the other way, I have handled a Euthanasia case. I won't let you or Krycek off as easy, but I still want to be involved."

The front door opened, Scully closely followed by Byers.

"I think you had better leave, Detective Dancer. The doctor has arrived."

"More then just the doctor has arrived, Walt." Scully put her hands over her head and moved to the side of the door. Byers repeated the action, causing Skinner to notice the man who had slipped in behind him.

Before he had any chance to take in what was happening, the smell of burning cigarette smoke wafted into the apartment heralding the arrival of Spender and a couple of thugs.

With a bow of the head, one thug trained his gun on Skinner to keep him from launching himself at the Spender while the other's branched out to search the house. Langley squealed his protest as he was directed out into the living room. Alex whimpered as he was dragged in by a huge man that probably was not of this earth.

"Please, hold it still," said an Indonesian looking man. He stepped forward to look at Alex Krycek, taking his jaw in hand and examining his face. Alex growled at the intrusion but was really helpless to stop it with the alien bounty hunter's cousin holding him tightly by the elbows. The Indonesian's touch was cold and impersonal, as if he were looking at a worthless animal for sale.

"What's the meaning of this, Spender? You said we would be left to handle Krycek."

"I said I would give you 24 hours. That time is up. I have come back to reclaim what's mine."

"The damage could kill it before we were able to complete the hybridization. We could try duplicating the results of purity exposure instead of continuing to use this subject." The Indonesian's cool tone indifferent at the young man trying to struggle away from his touch.

"You do not question my orders, you follow them." Spender said ruthlessly. He knew that this imported doctor was his best connection in recreating Oppenshaw's work, though he wouldn't tolerate the man's behavior for long.

"You animal," Skinner yelled at Spender. An unreasonable anger, a passion he had not felt in years tore through him. "You're willing to sacrifice your own son to your plans?!? No, wait, you've already sacrificed Cassandra, Jeffery, and Mulder. Nothing is sacred to you, is it? You will tear down everything in order to save your own skin?"

Spender dropped his cigarette to the wooden floor and ground it under his heel. "He is not my son, he is only a means to an ends." Spender turned his attention from Skinner, Scully, Byers, Langley, and Dancer to address the Indonesian. "We will use this subject. The exposure he has had to purity is invaluable; the changes to his genetic structure may not be duplicated. If he dies, he dies, but no one has been able to kill Krycek yet. He may surprise you."

"NO NO NO NO!" Alex repeated, struggling as fiercely as he could to free himself from the tight grip.

Spender took one look at him and ordered the alien to silence him.

The alien put his hand over Alex's mouth and nose, holding his head against that oversized chest. Alex fought harder then before, trying to wiggle from the grasp but he was fading fast. His sea green eyes caught Skinner's, begging him for help before turning to Scully's. He reached out a hand before his lashes fluttered closed.

"I'm going to kill you," Scully's cold voice startled everyone. "I'm going to kill you for what you did to Fox and for what you did to Alex. I'm going to make sure no one else suffers at your hands."

"Oh really? Could you really set aside your compassion to kill me, Saint Scully?"

"Oh, I will, Spender, I will. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. I am going to kill you and rid the world of your evil."

"Admirable," the alien who was holding Alex's limp body said. "I can see your attraction to these FBI humans."

Spender didn't respond. Instead he pulled out a new cigarette from his pack. Bringing it to his withered lips then flicking the lighter on. The glow of it like the fires of hell coming to swallow them all. With a nod of his head, the thugs were bullying them in order to tie them up. They put up a token resistence as the guns were fully targeted at them.

Spender was slipping out the door when Scully, suddenly remembering thier failure at innoculating Alex, cried out to Spender, telling him that Alex hadn't been inoculated yet.

He turned around to face the firey agent and said , "I left that in your capable hands. But thank you for the warning," and he was gone along with Alex, the alien, and the Indonesian.

The thugs gloted as they tied up the group; Scully and Dancer together, Skinner and Byers together, and Langley to a kitchen chair.

One of the thugs, reminding one of the oilien Krycek, leaned down to smirk at the group. "That should hold you for a while. By the time you get free, the world will have ended and we'll all be emperors." He chuckled, lost in his mind at the thrill of power. He pulled out a knife and ran it along Dancer's breasts. With a snap of his wrist he plucked the first couple of buttons off her shirt. He smirked at himself as the tip of the knife slipped down to explore farther.

Dancer's eyes threw daggers at the man but kept her mouth shut.

"Quit that." Another thug said, hitting the other upside the head. "If we're going to be `the chosen ones' we gotta get out of here."

With one last lecherous grin, the thug left with the others.

The door closed behind the thugs leaving the apartment in total silence. Dancer's voice broke the silence after a while. "Would someone explain what the *fuck* that was about?"

* **

In an undisclosed location A while later

Alex whimpered in fear. He was someplace he knew, someplace he remembered. He couldn't see clearly. He saw glints of mettle and he could smell something strange, reminding him of another time and place filled with fear.

Underneath him something hard and cold held him in the air. He tried to turn his head but found that it was bound somehow. He tried to move and he couldn't move anything. Something was strangling his wrists and ankles preventing his escape.

He cried out in fear, calling for anyone to help him. His only desire to escape.

Alex sobbed in relief when he felt someone moving around, unbuckling his wrist.

But his joy was short lived as who ever it was held his arm tight. Something wet was brushed over his arm followed by a prick of pain. A cold ice stabbed its way up his arm, creeping through him to flow into his head and then he was falling.

He was falling through darkness in a place outside space and time, where everything and nothing had meaning. He landed softly on something huge and fluffy. He heard the wonderful chime of laughter and turned his head.

Sun bright blue eyes met his own. He reached out a hand to stroke the sunset red hair; delighted she was with him.

A deep rumbling chuckle made him turn into chocolate brown eyes and strong arms.

He wished that he never had to leave this safe place.

* * *

And finally onto Ursula.

<Tara wipes her forehead; thankful she's passed it on. She was as impatient to finish this as were people to get this. >