Krycek's voice remained low, yet hard as steel. "You do not 
understand, Lt. Mulder. My country is at war. Depending on what side 
you are on, you either lose or gain. If this war was in your United 
States, you would do the same thing. Now. I do not want you to talk of 
this again. It is foolish and dangerous; I could and should shoot you 
for just saying the words you did." 

Krycek reached across the table and put his fingers under Mulder's 
chin. He tilted the other man's head up, seeing the tears in his eyes. 
"Do I make myself clear? Never speak to anyone about this subject 
again." 

Mulder nodded his head. Silently they finished their cake and coffee, 
the taste now bitter in Mulder's mouth. 

Krycek looked across the table at the American. He certainly looked 
miserable. Krycek would never send him back to prison, but he should 
not be asking such questions. Questions no one dared to ask. 

"You are tired. I will show you to your room." 

Together they walked down the hallway to a door, not far from the door 
leading to Krycek's room. Mulder limped along beside Krycek on his 
crutch. This was a small bedroom with a small bed, chest of drawers 
and wardrobe to make it cozy and warm. A small rug was on the wooden 
floor beside the bed. A night table stood beside the bed with a small 
lamp and a ticking alarm clock upon it. 

Krycek motioned to the chest of drawers and wardrobe. "There are 
clothes for you in here to wear. This door, here," Krycek opened a 
narrow door to the right, "leads to your own WC. You may bathe in my 
bathroom, but only when I tell you to. Do not go in there on your own, 
is that clear?" 

"Yes." Mulder peered into the small room that contained a toilet and 
sink. The razor, shaving brush, soap and jar of salve had been moved 
from the other bathroom to here and rested on a shelf above the sink. 
A small mirror was above the shelf. 

"Good. Now what else? Ah yes, please leave the curtains drawn at all 
times. You do not want to get bombed by your own colleagues, do you, 
Lieutenant?" Krycek gave a short laugh before opening another door, 
this time to the left. 

"This leads to my room. You are my assistant, my valet, that is why 
you have the small room off of mine. In the morning, you shall wake 
first, shave and get dressed, then come wake me. I must be up at 
precisely 6 a.m. While I shave, you are to lay my clothes out for me 
to wear." Krycek opened a huge wardrobe at the side of the room. "It's 
pretty straight-forward. The uniform never changes. I do, however, 
want them cleaned and pressed the day before." 

Mulder nodded at Krycek when he looked over at him. The contents of 
the wardrobe were nearly pure black. Black uniforms, black coats, 
black boots, black everywhere, offset by silver medals and 
decorations. This was highlighted by the harsh contrast of the stark 
white shirts, crisp and clean. The red of the swastika armband was the 
only color in the sea of black and white. 

"Now. You must polish my boots every day. I have three pairs, and they 
must be immaculate." 

Mulder shuddered at the words, remembering the duties he performed in 
prison. 

Krycek came over to Mulder, put a hand on his shoulder and met his 
gaze. "There is a polishing kit in the bottom drawer of your wardrobe. 
There are also other items to help you with your job there. Do not 
worry, Lt. Mulder, you are here to work." 

Krycek took his hand away, went back to the wardrobe and closed the 
door. 

"Now. You said you were tired, go to sleep, and I will see you in the 
morning." 

Mulder turned to limp through the door to his little room. He shut the 
door behind him and breathed out. His knees were shaking. He sat on 
the bed, calming himself before getting undressed. He found a pair of 
soft, cotton pajamas in one of the drawers. He climbed into bed, 
relishing the soft sheets and soft quilt that was upon it. Such luxury 
from a cot with a scratchy wool blanket. Ensuring his alarm was set, 
he turned off the light and went to sleep. 

  

  

  



The next morning, Mulder did what he was told, and got Krycek ready. 
Silently, he dressed him, then Krycek left, leaving Mulder feeling 
empty and alone. Throughout the day, Mulder busied himself by making 
minor repairs to Krycek's uniforms and shuffling some papers in the 
study. Ingrid brought breakfast and lunch up to his little room. She 
did not reply when Mulder said, "Thank you." 

Krycek did not have such a good day. He sighed to himself as he sat in 
the back of his car, the driver taking him home. Things were not going 
well at all. The Americans were advancing from the west, the Russians 
from the east. Italy was a lost cause. It was going to be over, and 
over soon. Krycek didn't want to be caught when either side rolled 
into town. Especially the Russians. His name was notorious throughout 
their ranks for his exploits through Poland and the Czech Republic. 
How many Russians had he killed with his own hands? That wasn't 
important right now. Getting out of Germany, that was important. He 
had met a man today who could get him on a boat to South America. It 
would cost an enormous amount of money, but that was not important 
either. He had to leave. He had nothing to stay for anyway. Germany 
was his home, but he could learn to love another country just as much. 
Being alive would help. 

Suddenly, his door swung open, and he realized he was home. He got out 
of the car and walked in the house, where he was met by Ingrid. 

"Have supper in my study for us in an hour." 

"Yes, sir." 

"How was he today? What did he do?" 

"He mended your uniforms, polished your boots. He has been in the 
study for most of the afternoon." 

"Good. I want the other staff, particularly Georg, to stay away from 
him. Lt. Mulder is a special case; he needs special care." 

"Yes, sir." 

Krycek turned and went up the stairs to the study where he found 
Mulder reading a book. 

"Ah, you have found something you like, then?" 

Mulder jumped out of his seat, the book falling to the floor. "I, I 
was waiting for...I didn't know what to do next." 

Krycek smiled at Mulder. "You can take my hat and my coat when I come 
home." 

Mulder picked up his crutch and hobbled over to take the heavy, 
leather coat and black hat from Krycek, hanging the coat in the 
wardrobe. He took a small brush and brushed the wool of the hat, 
removing any lint that was there. 

Krycek beamed. "You learn quickly, I like that. Now tell me, what were 
you reading?" 

"Dickens. Great Expectations." 

"Hmmmm. That book is verboten, but it is in my library." Krycek 
laughed. "It's a good thing you and I are the only ones who read 
English in this house." 

Krycek settled down in his chair behind the desk and began opening his 
mail. He noticed how organized everything was. Mulder had done a good 
job. "You may continue to read your book, Lt. Mulder. There is about 
an hour or so before supper." 

"Thank you." Mulder eased himself into the chair again and picked the 
book up off the floor. 

Silently, both men read, Krycek making a few phone calls. He kept his 
voice low, knowing the American could not understand German anyway. 

Supper was uneventful. They ate, then Krycek put a record on the 
player, which they listened to until it was time to go to bed. 

They walked down the hall together, Mulder leaned on his crutch as 
they stopped at his door. "Goodnight." 

"Goodnight, Lt. Mulder." 

Mulder shut the door of his little room behind him and got undressed. 
The pajamas were folded on top of his pillow, where he left them this 
morning. Everything was neat and tidy. All he did all day was tidy. 
//I'm nothing more than a glorified chamber maid.// Then there was a 
knock on the door that connected his room to Krycek's. 

Mulder opened the door to reveal Krycek in his dressing gown. Mulder's 
heart started to pound as Krycek brushed past him and put a key in the 
lock to the door leading to the hallway. 

Krycek locked the door and gave Mulder the key. "This is your key. 
Keep it on you at all times. Make sure your door, my door, and the 
door from the bathroom leading to the hallway are locked every night. 
We do not want unnecessary disturbances." He then motioned for Mulder 
to get to work. 

Mulder nodded and grabbed his crutch, moving into the rooms, locking 
the doors. When he got back to the bedroom, he found Krycek waiting 
for him on the bed, clad in only his robe. Mulder could feel his cock 
stiffen as he moved tentatively towards the bed. 

"Come, Mulder. Join me, here." Krycek patted the mattress beside him. 

Mulder climbed up beside the German, noticing his erection tenting the 
robe. 

Krycek reached out and caressed Mulder's face. "I want to make love to 
you, Lt. Mulder..." 

"Fox." 

"Fox?" Krycek smiled. "That is your name, I forgot. Mine is Alexander. 
You may call me Alex, but only here, only when you are in bed with me. 
It will be Sturmbahnfuehrer Krycek the rest of the time." 

Mulder just nodded. He could feel his cock weeping pre-cum onto the 
fabric of his pajamas. 

Krycek brought Mulder in for a kiss, tender lips pressed against his 
own. He lay Mulder down on the bed, not breaking the kiss, not wanting 
to lose contact. Finally, he broke away and undid Mulder's pajama top. 
He removed it quickly then undid the drawstring on the bottoms. He 
smiled as Mulder gasped when Krycek slowly pulled them down and off. 
Mulder's cock stood at attention, and a spot of pre-cum glistened at 
the tip. Krycek could not resist and bent down to lap the fluid up 
with the tip of his tongue. His hand reached up to caress Mulder's 
chest. 

Mulder arched his back into Krycek's touch and moaned. Once again the 
tenderness overwhelmed him. Suddenly, the tongue and hand left him. 
Mulder opened his eyes to see Krycek removing his robe, his cock 
jutting out before him. 

Krycek lay down beside Mulder and caressed his face again before 
bringing their lips together. Krycek's tongue slid past Mulder's lips, 
tasting the warm interior before leaving and snaking a trail down his 
jaw to his neck. 

Mulder sighed as Krycek licked a trail down Mulder's neck and stopped 
at his collarbone. 

Krycek positioned himself so their erections rubbed together, the 
smooth skin sliding across each other. He bent his head down and 
sucked on one of Mulder's nipples, biting and nipping at the 
perimeter. His hand went up to tease the other, bringing it to 
hardness. 

Mulder moved his hands across Krycek's back, feeling the taut muscles 
underneath. He gasped for breath when Krycek bit down gently on his 
left nipple. This felt so good, so good. Nothing else mattered but 
them right now, not the war, nothing. 

Krycek's mouth kissed and licked down the remainder of Mulder's body, 
pausing to tease his navel for a minute. He pressed his face into 
Mulder's belly, the fine hairs like silk under his cheek. He continued 
his journey until he reached the brown curls at Mulder's groin. They 
smelled of his musk and arousal. Krycek nuzzled Mulder's erection with 
his chin before licking up and down the shaft. 

Mulder was shaking again. He had never felt this good before, so 
protected. He twisted the sheets in his hands as he felt Krycek's 
mouth engulf his cock. 

Krycek sucked on Mulder's cock for a minute before pulling back, 
teasing the slit in the top with his tongue. The other man shivered 
under him as he swirled his tongue around and over the head again and 
again. He then snaked his tongue down to Mulder's balls, taking them 
in his mouth, sucking on the fragile skin. 

"Oh, yes, yes, oh Alex," Mulder whispered. 

Mulder was quaking with emotion. No one had ever done this to him 
before. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, or both at the same 
time. He felt Krycek pull off his balls and instinctively brought his 
knees up so Krycek could gain better access for what he knew would 
happen next. A moan of pure ecstasy left Mulder's lips as Krycek's 
tongue teased the opening to his ass. He nearly shrieked when the 
tongue pushed inside. 

Laughing, Krycek sat up and looked down at his lover. "You liked that? 
There is more to come, my beautiful Fox." 

Krycek reached over to the tin of lubricant that he had placed on the 
night table beforehand. He scooped a small amount up with his fingers 
and placed them against Mulder's puckered opening. 

Mulder sighed and spread his legs wider. The fingers slid in easily, 
caressing his prostate, bringing him harder, making him moan again and 
again. 

Krycek removed his fingers, gaining a whimper from the man writhing on 
the bed. He coated his cock liberally with the thick petroleum jelly 
before moving between Mulder's legs. Slowly he entered into Mulder, 
gently imbedding himself into the hot channel. Once he was fully 
inside Mulder, he leaned over and captured a long kiss from him. 

Mulder watched as Krycek pulled back from the kiss. Desire showed in 
his eyes, not hate and hurt. He closed his eyes as Krycek wrapped his 
arms around him and started moving in and out of him. Mulder wrapped 
his legs around Alex, joining them together in a double embrace. 

Krycek slowly pumped in and out of Mulder. He never knew this would 
feel so good, so different. He felt something for this other man, this 
American. It was not quite love, but a need. 

Mulder peppered Krycek's shoulders with kisses as he felt him slide in 
and out of him with ease. This was not rough sex, this was gentle 
lovemaking. 

Krycek started to pump faster, he unwound himself from Mulder, 
stealing a kiss before he sat back on his knees. He gathered Mulder's 
hips in his hands and started thrusting into the other man, his eyes 
closed, head back, moans escaping his lips. 

"My Fox. You belong to me, mein schoener Fox." 

Mulder also closed his eyes as Krycek slammed into him, he opened them 
when he felt one of Krycek's hands close around his cock. It didn't 
take long before Mulder shot long streams of cum out and onto his own 
chest. 

Krycek opened his mouth and let out a long moan as he came, thrusting 
a few more times to milk his cock. He collapsed on top of Mulder, his 
chest heaving. He then rolled to the side and looked at his companion. 
"Why don't you get something to clean us up?" 

Mulder froze. Did he want him to lick them clean? Panic swept through 
Mulder but subsided as Krycek spoke again. 

"There should be towels in the bathroom." 

Mulder let out a sigh of relief as he rolled off the bed and went into 
the bathroom. A minute later, he came back with a damp towel and wiped 
them both off, paying special attention to removing the lubricant.. 
When he was finished, he climbed back into bed and into Krycek's arms, 
where he dozed for awhile. Suddenly, a hand was shaking him awake. 

"Come, Mulder wake up. They cannot find you here. You have to go to 
your own bed." 

Mulder propped himself up on an elbow and looked at Krycek. "The doors 
are locked." 

Krycek shook his head. "If I get an urgent call in the middle of the 
night, I do not want them to find us like this." He reached out and 
stroked Mulder's chin. "I am sorry." 

Mulder got out of Krycek's bed and put his pajamas back on before 
returning to his own room, shutting the door behind him. He got into 
his own bed, checked the clock, then fell asleep. 

  

  

  



He could hear screaming...screaming, he was screaming. No, he wasn't 
screaming, but someone else was screaming. Mulder sat bolt upright in 
bed. It was Krycek. Mulder's heart pounded as he opened the adjoining 
door and turned on one of the lamps. Krycek was thrashing about on the 
bed. 

Mulder reached over and shook Krycek's shoulder. "Wake up, you're 
having a nightmare." 

"Trudi! No, not my Trudi!" Suddenly Krycek was awake and realized 
where he was. Sobs wracked his body and tears started to flow from his 
eyes as he remembered the dream. 

Mulder bit his lower lip then sat on the bed beside Krycek. He reached 
over and stroked his short, dark hair. "What is it?" 

Krycek grabbed onto Mulder and held him tight, the only sounds coming 
from his mouth at that moment were sobs of pain. 

Mulder brought his legs up on the bed and wrapped his arms around 
Krycek. He began rocking him, kissing the top of his head. He had 
never seen him so vulnerable, so scared. Krycek was always the man to 
be feared, the man in charge. Finally, Krycek's sobs subsided, and he 
began to calm down. 

Krycek felt Mulder's strong arms around him and held on to him 
tighter. Whenever he had this nightmare alone, he would shake for 
hours, his knees drawn up to his chest, shivering under a mountain of 
blankets. 

Mulder kissed the top of Krycek's head again and continued to stroke 
his hair. "Who's Trudi?" 

Krycek took a deep breath and let it out shakily, then sat up. Tear 
tracks stained his cheeks, his nose was red and his cheeks puffy. 

Mulder leaned back against the pillows and motioned for Krycek to come 
into his embrace. Krycek laid his head on Mulder's chest, feeling the 
warmth of the other man's body beneath him. 

"Trudi is...was my daughter." Krycek took another breath before 
continuing. "At the start of the war, I lived in a small town on the 
border with Poland called Danzig. I was running the family business 
that my father had left me the year before. I had gone to University 
to learn business, graduating five years before. I was married and had 
a daughter. I went to Berlin on business for a week and while I was 
there, heard of the fighting along the Polish border. I got the first 
train out of Berlin and rushed home as fast as I could..." 

Krycek started to cry again. Mulder rocked him in his arms and 
caressed him until he calmed down again. 

"When I got home, I found it was gone. Everything was gone. The Polish 
cavalry had swept in and destroyed most of the town. By the time I 
arrived, the German army had come in to push the Poles back. There 
were bodies everywhere. I ran to where my home was and saw it burnt to 
the ground. Everything Gretchen and I had worked for was destroyed. 
And my Trudi...my little Trudi...her small body was under there, 
somewhere. When we finally found her, she was so battered, so..." 
Krycek broke away again and sobbed into Mulder's chest. "She was only 
four years old." 

A tear slid down Mulder's cheek as he listened to Krycek tell his 
story. He remembered how his own father had been killed a few years 
ago, his ship sunk by a German U-Boat. His mother had gone mad soon 
after that, retreating into her own world where no one could reach 
her, the death of his father bringing back all the pain from his 
sister's death when he was eleven, from polio. He closed his eyes and 
held Krycek tighter, both men lost in their grief. 

Krycek had calmed down enough to resume his story. "I buried them 
together, Mother and Daughter, at peace with each other. Then I joined 
the army. I wanted to get even, to show them that they could not stop 
me. I wanted revenge and I got it, over and over again. Now it's..." 
Krycek bit his tongue, no, he could not tell this American everything, 
it was too dangerous. He sighed, it was if a weight had been lifted 
off of his shoulders, to confess his feelings to someone. Krycek felt 
warm and aroused; Mulder was kissing his shoulder. Krycek moved up to 
face him and kissed him on the lips. 

Mulder returned the kiss and rolled them over so Krycek was underneath 
him. He moved down the other man's body, for the first time realizing 
he was naked. He licked the flat, brown nipples, gaining a sigh from 
Krycek. Down he went, further until he reached his hard erection. 
Gently, Mulder pulled the foreskin back and put his mouth on the soft 
skin, moving down, engulfing him with his mouth. He sucked hard and 
strong, bringing Krycek off quickly, ensuring to lap up the last drops 
of cum. 

He moved up and kissed Krycek on the mouth, his tongue entering, 
sharing the taste. He smiled at the German and caressed his face once 
more. "I have to go." 

Krycek swallowed. "Yes, you should go," he whispered. He wanted Mulder 
to stay the night with him and hold him in his arms, but he knew the 
dangers of such things. Reluctantly, he let him go, watching as Mulder 
went out the adjoining door which closed behind him. 

  

  

  



The next few weeks were spent in much the same way. Mulder would take 
care of the small details while Krycek ran his prison. That's what it 
looked like to Mulder anyway. In fact, Krycek spent most of the time 
trying to organize passage for himself to South America. He had to 
wait until February to actually leave, which did not sit well with 
him, but he accepted it. He told no one and carried his secret in the 
pit of his stomach, where it would cause him much painful grief and 
the inability to eat Ingrid's Sauerbraten. 

At night, Krycek would take Mulder to his bed, sweetly exploring his 
body, bringing him to a higher plain of passion each time they met. 
Although he sometimes missed the taste of Mulder's blood in his mouth, 
this tenderness was pleasurable in its own way too. He ached to hold 
Mulder all night in his arms, to wake with him at his side. //It is 
foolish to think this way//, he told himself. They would never be left 
completely alone. 

After the bombing of Berlin, Krycek knew he had to leave Germany and 
leave very soon. The Allies were everywhere, advancing, yet the Reich 
was in denial. Things went on as usual despite destruction everywhere. 
Meetings were held, parties were planned. The Fuehrer held elaborate 
dinners and receptions in his bunker, as if the Americans or Russians 
did not exist. Krycek knew Hitler was crazy but didn't say a word. He 
went along with their stupid ideas to keep himself alive. 

When the bombs were falling on Berlin, he and his household staff ran 
down to the bomb shelter and waited. It was if an earthquake was 
shaking them. They sat together in the dark room, waiting for the 
tremors to stop. The young maid was crying, Ingrid praying to Jesus 
Christ to save them all. Krycek himself trembled, grateful for the 
pitch blackness of the shelter so his staff would not see that he was 
scared. How he wanted to reach over and hold Mulder, caress him, tell 
him it would be all right. It must have been strange for him, hiding 
from his own Air Force, his friends, hoping he would not get killed by 
one of his own bombs. He felt Mulder's fingers close over his in the 
darkness, secure in the knowledge that no one could see them. Krycek 
knew he should not allow it, but he needed the comfort of Mulder's 
touch as much as the other man did. He had never liked total darkness. 
He turned his hand over to clasp Mulder's. They sat like that until 
the all-clear was signaled. 

  

  

  



Now he was on his way home from a day at Headquarters. His prison had 
been completely destroyed by a bomb, killing most of the prisoners. 
The only consolation was that the idiot guards were killed as well. A 
shudder went through him as he thought of Mulder and how if he had 
still been there, he would have been killed. 

Krycek watched as his driver picked his way through the rubble that 
still remained from the raid over a week ago, turning up roads that 
were no longer there. He had gotten the word that tonight was the 
night to leave Berlin for his journey to the coast. A few more hours 
and it would all be over. He would start a new life, somewhere else. 

  

  

  



That afternoon, Mulder was in the study, dusting books when a young 
man came in. He was stocky, with blonde hair and brown eyes. Mulder 
had not seen any other staff besides Ingrid and the maid, save for 
that frantic run to the bomb shelter last week. He didn't know who 
this was. 

"Can I help you?" Mulder said, turning to look at him. His ankle was 
better now, enough so that he could put shoes on and walk. He did 
still need the crutch from time to time though when the pain flared 
up. He also kept the bandage on for support. 

"Amerikaner." That was the only word he said. The young man crossed 
his arms in front of him and glared at Mulder. 

Mulder stiffened and watched with fear as the man approached him. 
Mulder wondered if this was one of the guards that were posted outside 
the gates to the house. He was certainly old enough to be in the army. 
Maybe he was a prisoner as well? 

"Can I help you?" Mulder said again. The young man was standing right 
in front of him. 

"Amerikaner," the young man said then spat on his shoes. Then he swung 
and hit Mulder square in the mouth, splitting his lip. 

Mulder fell back against the bookcase, his ankle twisting but held in 
place by the thick bandage. He looked at the other man advancing on 
him again. Mulder was afraid of what would happen to him if he injured 
a German, but the blonde seemed determined to hurt him. He was left 
with no choice and swung at him and caught him on the side of the jaw. 


The blonde shook it off and came at him again. Mulder moved out of the 
way, the blow coming in contact with his shoulder. 

"Wait, what are you doing? Who are you?" Mulder looked at the mindless 
hatred in the young man's eyes. This scared him. It wasn't even really 
directed at him since the German didn't know him, but that wouldn't 
stop the young man from killing him. He could see the desire to kill 
in his eyes. "Who are you?" Mulder asked again. 

Another punch came, this time in the kidneys. Mulder slumped to the 
floor in pain. The man kept punching and kicking Mulder, screaming in 
German. Mulder put his hands up to try to shield himself from blows, 
without much success. He had to get out of there, had to defend 
himself. He clawed at the floor, dragging himself a few inches, trying 
to get away. The punches and kicks made him groan in pain. 

"Please stop, I don't even know you. Stop, I'm begging you." Mulder's 
pleas fell on deaf ears. 

Finally, Mulder's grasping hand came upon something - the crutch. 
Using all of his strength, he swung the crutch up and hit the young 
man in the belly, knocking the wind out of him. He smacked him again 
with the crutch, this time in the head. Adrenaline shot through his 
veins as Mulder used all his strength to stand and hop out of the room 
on his good foot. 

In a panic, Mulder hopped down the corridor to his room, not daring to 
look back. His ankle was sore, his sides ached, blood was dripping 
into his eye. He slammed the door behind him and locked it, then 
locked the doors to Krycek's room and the bathroom. He cowered in the 
corner, ready for the younger man to break down his door and continue 
beating him. Sweat prickled all over his body, and he was shaking. An 
hour later, when the young man still had not come, Mulder crawled onto 
his bed, brought his knees up to his chest and started sobbing. 

  

  

  



Krycek got home late. He should have just walked; it would have taken 
the same amount of time. It was nearly dark when he walked into the 
front door, to be met by a frantic Ingrid. 

"Sturmbahnfuehrer Krycek, there has been an incident." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Georg got in the house. I saw him coming down the back stairs with 
blood dripping from a cut in his head. He must have confronted the 
American. I went up to see if he was well, but his door was locked." 

The vein in Krycek's forehead began to throb. He knew he should have 
never taken that fucking psycho in. Georg had been deemed unfit for 
the military; he was too violent, even for the Third Reich.. The 
guards were supposed to keep the back door locked, keep Georg out of 
the house. He was to do yard maintenance only. 

"Where is Georg now?" 

"He is in his quarters, behind the house." 

"He did not run?" 

"Georg is proud of whatever he did to the American." 

Krycek took a deep breath, using every ounce of will he had to keep 
calm, and looked at Ingrid. "I will deal with Georg after I see what 
has happened to Mulder. In the mean time, prepare supper for us. We 
will take it in my room." 

Ingrid looked at the floor then back up at Krycek. "Herr Oberst, there 
was no meat today. No milk either. The delivery man said that the 
supply lines have been cut off and the Americans are advancing. Is 
this true?" 

Krycek smiled, "Ingrid, you know better than to ask questions like 
that. The Reich will win this war, I promise you." He put his hand on 
her shoulder. "As for supper, any food will be good." 

Ingrid gave him a weak smile then walked away. Krycek sighed, he knew 
she was right, but he could not have his staff in a panic, thinking 
they were losing the war. He shook his head, now he had to find Mulder 
and see what that idiot Georg had done. 

He ran up the stairs to the study. The crutch lay broken on the floor, 
and a trail of blood led from the room down the hall to the back 
stairs. His heart began to race. Quickly, he strode down to Mulder's 
room, frantically dug out his key and unlocked the door. He flung it 
open to reveal a shivering Mulder, curled up on his bed. He carefully 
walked over to the trembling man and turned the lamp on. He sucked in 
his breath when he saw the large cut above his eye, which had bled 
onto the pillow. Krycek gently untucked, then lifted Mulder's shirt to 
reveal the bruises that he knew were there. 

"Georg," he whispered before taking a deep breath. "Mulder, who did 
this to you? Who touched you?" 

"I don't know. He was a young man with blonde hair and brown eyes...he 
was wearing a blue shirt..." 

//It was Georg.// "Stay here, do not move." 

Krycek stomped out of Mulder's room and down the hallway to the 
staircase, his leather coat flapping behind him. He flew down the 
stairs and out the back door to the servant's quarters. He found 
Georg, in his room, smoking a cigarette. The young man jumped as 
Krycek kicked the door open. Just as Ingrid said, he had a large cut 
on the side of his head. His blonde hair was stained red and brown 
from the drying blood. 

Georg stood to greet Krycek when a slap nearly took his head off. 

"You are a dead man." Krycek said, his low voice like molten lead 
coming out of his mouth. "You have touched my property. You have 
damaged my property." 

He grabbed Georg by the hair and dragged him down the hallway and 
outside to the snow in the back garden. 

"But, Sturmbahnfuehrer Krycek, he is just an American. Just a little 
Hund." 

Krycek smacked Georg again, and the young man fell to his knees. 
Krycek loomed over him, wishing he had his riding crop with him. No, 
he was glad he did not. He would not touch this offal with the crop 
that he had used on Mulder. It was too good for him. Instead, he 
kicked Georg in the side, watching as pain washed over his face. 

"He is mine! He belongs to me! No one else is allowed to..." //touch// 
"...beat..." //love// "...him but me! He is my property!" //friend// 
Krycek punctuated each word with another kick, drawing breathless 
groans of pain from the man on the ground. 

"He is an American Hund! He is schwein!" 

Krycek kicked Georg in the side again, watching him writhe in pain. 
Krycek's face was red, sweat pouring off of him, despite the bitter 
cold. In a blind rage, he kicked and beat the other man before pulling 
his pistol and finishing him off. He looked down at the blood 
darkening the snow in the faint twilight. Had this been daytime, a 
bright red stain would have been seen spreading out from where the 
bullet entered George's skull. He stood there for a minute before he 
realized what he had done. He had killed people before, but it was 
different now. It had no meaning anymore; it wasn't for a cause, or 
for the war, it was all for nothing. Georg hadn't even felt his death; 
Krycek had long since beaten him into unconsciousness. He stared at 
the body with flat, emotionless eyes. //What have I become?// Krycek 
slowly turned and went into the house. 

No one was waiting for him inside the house as he shut the heavy door 
behind him. The staff knew better. When Krycek was in one of his 
moods, anyone could fall victim to a bullet. He remembered the 
housekeeper he and his family had had in Danzig. She had teased him 
when he was too serious and made him cocoa when he came home from a 
trip. She had been part of their family. How had he gone from that 
man, one who brought little gifts home from business trips for his 
housekeeper, to one who killed without feeling anything? Slowly, he 
made his way upstairs and to his room, throwing his leather coat and 
hat on a chair before going back to Mulder. He noticed Ingrid had left 
a tray of various cold foods on his side table. There was a bottle of 
wine as well. 

Mulder was still on his bed, curled up in a little ball. The cut above 
his eye had stopped bleeding but would bruise and be sore for awhile. 

Krycek sat on the edge of Mulder's bed and started caressing his hair. 
Noticing he still had his gloves on, he took them off. He wanted to 
touch him with his bare hands. He lay down on the bed beside Mulder 
and held him close, dry-eyed despite his horror at himself. He wished 
he could cry; at least then he would know that he was still human, not 
some kind of monster. //This is going to be over soon, no more 
hurting, no more pain. When I get on that ship, this will all be 
over.// 

Mulder turned to face Krycek, his split lip throbbing. He saw the 
sadness in his companion's eyes. 

"What's wrong?" 

"I'm sick of this. Sick of war, sick of violence and hate." 

Mulder just nodded and snuggled into Krycek's shoulder. They lay 
there, trembling in each other's arms for a long time before Krycek 
got up. 

"Come, let's have a bath. It will help you feel better." 

Mulder swung his legs over the sides of the bed. He could stand on 
both feet, his ankle only hurting a little bit, the bandage having 
saved him from breaking or spraining it again. He followed Krycek to 
the bathroom, ensuring to lock all the doors along the way. He stood 
before him, seeing that his eyes still looked so sad. Mulder reached 
out and caressed his face, down the stubbled cheeks and to his jaw. He 
began taking off the iron cross when Krycek's hand came up and ripped 
it off of his neck, flinging it in a corner, where it landed with a 
thud and a metallic clang. Mulder did not question his action, instead 
he kept undressing Krycek, unbuttoning his jacket, then his shirt, 
removing his tie, taking off his boots and trousers, until he was 
completely naked. 

Mulder stood back and looked at Krycek. He was beautiful. His frame 
was larger than his own but just as muscular. His thick cock was 
growing with arousal. 

Krycek watched with anticipation as Mulder undressed himself. He 
needed him, needed to feel him, to touch him. Large bruises covered 
his torso and buttocks, making Krycek turn away for a second. Tears of 
rage sprang to his eyes as he saw what Georg had done to his lover. He 
wished he could kill the bastard again for this. He'd died too 
quickly, too easily. When Mulder was naked, he reached out and 
embraced him gently, running his hands over the purple blotched skin. 

"I am so sorry. I should have got rid of him a long time ago." Krycek 
kissed Mulder, who winced at the pain in his lip. 

"How were you to know?" 

"I knew Georg hated Americans; I should have gotten rid of him before 
I brought you here. I am sorry you were hurt because I did not take 
adequate precautions. He was unfit for the army, so the Reich sent him 
to work here." Krycek shook his head in regret. "He must have been 
watching to see a breach in the guard watch. One of them was killed 
last week, and his replacement is unreliable, he leaves his post on a 
regular basis. Georg saw his chance and took it." 

Mulder frowned. He didn't like how people hated him because he was 
American. Couldn't they see that they wanted to help end the war? 
Although he supposed it was understandable since to do that, they 
would have to defeat Germany. If someone was trying to beat his 
country down, he'd probably hate them too. 

"Let's not worry about that now. Let's have our bath." Krycek tilted 
Mulder's head up to meet his gaze then smiled before planting a kiss 
on his forehead. Despite his headache from the injuries Georg had 
inflicted on him, Mulder leaned into the kiss, enjoying the comfort of 
a touch that wasn't intended to hurt him. 

Krycek turned the taps on to fill the tub with water. He motioned for 
Mulder to sit on the chair while he looked at his ankle. Slowly Krycek 
unwrapped the limb, revealing no new swelling or bruising. 

"It looks fine." Krycek took advantage of his position and kissed the 
inside Mulder's thighs, bringing a sigh from above. Smiling, Krycek 
stood and turned the taps off above the nearly full tub. 

They eased themselves into the water, both men letting out a groan as 
the hot water enveloped their bodies. As their ritual, one after 
another they washed each other, the sponge caressing their skin, 
teasing the sensitive parts. After they were clean, Krycek held Mulder 
in his arms, nuzzling the back of his head, kissing his shoulders 
until the water grew cold. 

Krycek got out of the tub first, dried himself, put on his robe, then 
helped Mulder out of the bath. Gently, Krycek dried Mulder, placing 
kisses on the bruises and scars that marked his body. While the 
bruises placed there by Georg enraged him, he felt a certain sense of 
pride that he himself was responsible for all the scars. They showed 
his ownership of this man, and no one, Mulder included, would ever be 
able to deny it. When he was satisfied, he led Mulder to the chair in 
the corner and wrapped his ankle again before bundling him up in a 
robe of his own. 

"Are you hungry?" Krycek smoothed Mulder's hair back. 

"Yes." 

"Come, let's eat." 

They sat at the small table, and Krycek poured the wine while Mulder 
tried to take a bite of bread. His mouth hurt too much. He put the 
bread down and settled for a sip of wine instead. 

"You have to take small bites, like this." Krycek broke off a small 
piece of cheese and put it up to Mulder's lips. Mulder's tongue snaked 
out to take the morsel of food from Krycek's fingers. Krycek grinned 
and took a tiny piece of bread and dipped it in some blueberry 
preserves, before holding it up to Mulder's mouth. 

Mulder reached out with his tongue and took the sweet tidbit from 
Krycek's fingers, licking them as he did so. 

Bit after bit of food was fed to Mulder this way, Krycek making sure 
he had a full belly before starting to eat himself. He looked at his 
lover, who was sitting back in his chair, robe open to his thighs, 
drinking a glass of wine. 

Krycek's cock was tenting his robe, throbbing, wanting the other man. 
He knew, however, that he had better eat something now because it 
would probably be a long time before he ate again. After he was full, 
he moved to the bed, motioning for Mulder to join him. They lay there, 
Mulder's head on his chest, caressing each other until he could stand 
it no longer. 

Very gently, he kissed Mulder on the mouth, not wanting to reopen the 
wound placed there by another man, then down his chin and neck. He 
wrapped his arms around his lover and held on to him, sucking and 
licking the skin. 

Slowly, he moved down to Mulder's nipples. The hardened buds stretched 
as he pulled on them with his lips and his teeth. 

Mulder wove his fingers through Krycek's short hair and let out a moan 
as his nipples were played with. His cock was aching for this man. 

Krycek moved down to Mulder's hardness, lapping up the spot of pre cum 
on the tip. He then lay his head down on Mulder's thigh and closed his 
eyes. Mulder's smell was intoxicating; it was the smell of pure man 
and sex. He opened his eyes and kissed the tip of Mulder's penis 
before moving upwards. 

"Love me, Fox." Krycek said as he kissed up Mulder's body to his lips. 
"I want you to make love to me." Krycek gently kissed Mulder, careful 
of his cut. If this might be the last time they were together, Krycek 
wanted to experience everything. 

Mulder was pleasantly shocked. The only time he had ever penetrated 
the German was that day...that horrible day when he had turned the 
tables and raped him. He couldn't believe that Krycek would allow him 
to take him after that. But he was thrilled and eager to comply. 

Krycek rolled over on his back and caressed Mulder's swollen jaw with 
the tip of his fingers. "Please, Fox." 

Mulder rolled over on top of Krycek and held him for a moment before 
moving down between his legs. He brought his knees up and moved them 
apart to get his lover ready. Mulder reached over to the familiar tin 
of petroleum jelly on the table. He coated two fingers and gently 
entered them into Krycek, gaining a sigh from him. He worked the 
fingers around, stretching the hole wider until Krycek was thrusting 
against them. 

"Please Fox, my beautiful Fox, love me." 

Mulder slicked up his cock with the jelly and began to enter Krycek 
very slowly. The tightness of his ass was incredible. Krycek tried to 
push himself onto Mulder's cock, but Mulder put his hand on his 
partner's chest to stop him. 

"Patience, Alex. I don't want this to be over too soon." Mulder bent 
down and planted a breath of a kiss on the soft hairs that covered his 
belly. 

Krycek stopped pushing against Mulder's cock. He was right, he wanted 
this to last forever. Slowly, Mulder entered him, one agonizing inch 
at a time until he was finally buried inside. Krycek sighed with 
pleasure at the feeling of fullness. Although he had experimented with 
other male lovers when he was young, before he married, Mulder was the 
only man he'd ever allowed inside him. Something about this man just 
made him want him like he'd never wanted anyone before. 

Mulder leaned over and kissed Krycek's belly again before starting to 
move back and forth inside the hot, tight channel. He leaned over and 
wrapped Krycek in his arms, while Krycek's legs came around his lower 
back. So many times they had been in this position, but in reverse. 

Krycek kissed Mulder's neck and shoulders, wanting to kiss his mouth, 
but he knew that he would hurt his lip if he did. 

It was as if time had stopped. Mulder thrust into Krycek, moving his 
hips from side to side, gaining groans and sighs. Krycek's cock was 
trapped between them, the hardness leaking fluid out of the tip onto 
both of their bellies. Mulder started to pump faster, his cock hitting 
Krycek's prostate, making him whimper and mew like a kitten. 

Krycek gasped as Mulder leaned up then reached down to grab his cock. 
He came immediately with a shout, his hands clutching and grasping at 
Mulder's shoulders, digging his fingers into the fresh bruises. 

The pleasure and pain sent Mulder flying over the edge into oblivion. 
He pumped hard, letting out a cry of joy, milking his cock of his 
seed. When he could go no further, he collapsed on top of Krycek, 
moaning again as his cock still shot fluid into his lover. 

They stayed joined until Mulder fell out of Krycek with a whimper. 
Mulder reached over for the towel and cleaned them both up, Krycek 
peppering whatever flesh he could reach with kisses. 

Finally, they came to hold each other in their arms, nuzzling each 
other, spreading light kisses over shoulders and chests before they 
dozed off. 

Krycek feigned sleep as he felt Mulder brush his lips against his 
cheek and return to sleep the rest of the night in his own bed. Again 
he wished that just once they could have spent the entire night 
together in his bed, holding each other against the bad dreams. But it 
wasn't to be. When the door was closed between their rooms, Krycek 
waited a few minutes, then silently got out of bed and got dressed. 
Civilian clothes under his uniform, leather coat and hat. From behind 
a hidden panel inside his wardrobe, he pulled out a small bag, packed, 
ready and waiting for this moment. He checked his pistol and made sure 
he had plenty of extra bullets along with a spare and the knives he 
had been so proficient with in his youth. Then he collected the 
leftover food from the tray and put that in a handkerchief, stuffing 
it in a side compartment of the bag. It was actually fortunate that 
they'd had a cold supper. It would travel better and last longer. 

He went into Mulder's small room, the pale light from the doorway 
showing him to be sleeping. Quietly, Krycek walked over and stood over 
his sleeping lover, watching his chest rise and fall with his breaths. 
It was time to go. He breathed in deeply then out again before bending 
over and kissing Mulder on the forehead. A tear slid down his cheek as 
he turned and left the room for good. 

  



Chapter 6: Sinking Ship 

Alex Krycek blinked another tear from his eye as he shut the door that 
joined his room with Mulder's. He shakily drew in his breath and let 
it out as he picked up the bag and turned to leave his room. The 
ringing phone just stopped his hand from turning the doorknob. It 
startled him, and he gave a little jump. He debated whether to answer 
it for an instant before picking it up. 

"Yes?" 

"Krycek, you're awake?" 

Krycek swallowed, "Yes, who needs sleep?" 

Oberbahnfuehrer Skinner laughed haltingly, "Apparently not the 
Americans." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Dresden is in flames; the whole city is in ruins from the carpet 
bombing from the Americans." 

The color drained from Krycek's face. "Shit," he whispered. 

"We have to take action, Krycek. Start with killing your American pet. 
Kill him for the people in Dresden." 

Krycek's voice caught in the back of his throat, but he was able to 
speak after a minute. 

"Kill the American?" 

"He is the only prisoner you have, yes?" 

"Yes." 

"Krycek, we are exterminating all prisoners. In all the camps, the 
prisons, as many as we can. These Allies think they can defeat us? 
Well, they may be able to overrun our country, but it will be a 
Pyrrhic victory. When they get here, they will find all the vermin 
their soft hearts wanted to save already dead. Don't forget to burn 
the body." 

A shock ran through his body, and he bit his lip to keep from 
screaming. Skinner continued. 

"After you have done that, why don't you come by headquarters? We will 
have a little party to celebrate the death of the American dog." 

"Party?" 

"Well, it's been going on all night, but we need a new excuse. You 
will come?" 

His stomach twisted at the thought of having a party for killing his 
lover. "I will be there," he said through clenched teeth. "Although it 
may take me some little while. I don't want the American to die too 
quickly." Even though it nauseated him to even think about hurting his 
Fox that way, Krycek knew that his fellow officer would have no 
trouble believing it of him. And that would keep him from looking for 
him too soon. He needed time to get away. 

"Excellent. I will see you when you get here." 

He hung up the phone without saying goodbye or the obligatory Heil 
Hitler. He stared into space for a few minutes before moving again. 
They wanted him to kill his Fox? His liebchen? He had hoped that if he 
just left, Mulder would be safe, but now he knew he had to take him 
with him. 

He took a deep breath before walking back over to the door that 
connected his room with Mulder's. He went through the door and sat on 
the small bed, caressing the golden brown hair with his leather-gloved 
hand before turning on the lamp. 

"Mulder." He shook the sleeping man's shoulder. "Mulder, wake up." 

Mulder blinked his eyes then opened them. He frowned when he saw 
Krycek dressed then sat up. "Where are you going? Did I oversleep? 
What time is it?" 

Krycek pressed a finger to Mulder's lips, "Ssshhh. It is the middle of 
the night. Listen very carefully, Mulder, for what I am about to tell 
you will save your life." 

Mulder nodded. 

"Now. I want you to get dressed and pack whatever you can carry in the 
small bag that is in the bottom of your wardrobe. Dress warmly, layer 
your clothing. After that, come into my room. Do this as quickly as 
possible. Do you understand?" 

"Yes." 

"Good, now go." 

Krycek left Mulder to get to work. It only took him a couple of 
minutes to get ready, fingers flying over buttons, packing the bare 
essentials. His heart beat fast as he went to meet Krycek in his room 
where there were more clothes laid out for him on the bed. 

"Take your shoes off, and put on these thick felt socks and the boots. 
The Russian army wears these; they will keep you warm in very cold 
weather. Now, put this sweater on - good. Here are some very warm 
mitts, lined with rabbit fur, a balaclava and a fur hat. Put these in 
your bag until I tell you to put them on. Here as well is a wool 
overcoat and hat. You will be my driver tonight. If anyone asks you 
any questions, pretend your throat was injured in the war. Keep this 
scarf wrapped around it," he said, handing Mulder a scarf, "Just point 
to your throat, then to me. They'll get the idea. We don't want anyone 
to realize that you don't speak German." 

Krycek looked at Mulder, put his hands on his shoulders and looked 
into his eyes. 

"Mulder, I am going to be honest with you. Germany is under siege, and 
I...we need to escape. If you want to come with me, I would like that 
very much. If not, I'm afraid that you will be killed." Honesty forced 
him to add, "You'll probably be able to join up with your own troops 
not far from Berlin. I won't stop you if you want to go with them." 

Mulder swallowed at the gravity of what Krycek just told him. He 
didn't want to die, that was for sure, nor did he want to be separated 
from Krycek. 

"I want to come with you, to be with you. I don't want you to leave 
me. I...I think I love you." Mulder said it even though he was afraid 
of Krycek's reaction. He didn't know if Krycek wanted his love, but he 
didn't think he had a choice any more. He'd belonged to the German 
from the first time he touched him, and he didn't want to change that 
now. He thought he might rather die than lose Alex. 

A slight shock ran through Krycek's body at these words. Mulder had 
never said anything like this before. Krycek smiled then kissed the 
American. 

"I would not have left without you." He hugged Mulder close to his 
chest, regretting that he ever thought of leaving Mulder behind. 
Remembering the task at hand, he broke away and smiled at Mulder, 
"Come, we must go." 

They gathered their meager possessions, Mulder carrying both bags. 
Swiftly and quietly, they made their way down the stairs and out the 
door. Krycek gave Mulder the keys to the car. He was just about to put 
the bags in the trunk when another car pulled up behind them. 

"Stay where you are," cautioned Krycek. He then turned to greet the 
vehicle. Sturmbahnfuehrer Spender got out of the car. 

"Spender, how nice to see you. Don't tell me we had a meeting this 
late?" 

"No." 

"Then what can I do for you? Why are you here?" 

"Dresden is destroyed..." 

"Yes, I know," Krycek cut him off. "Skinner just telephoned me. I was 
on my way to headquarters to see if I could offer any assistance." 

"I see. Why do you have your bags packed then? Going on vacation?" 

"It's a little cold, even for the Riviera this time of year, Spender." 
Krycek chuckled. "I knew it would be a long ordeal and decided to bunk 
at headquarters for a few days, perhaps a week. It is such a pain 
driving out here to the house. Not to mention becoming nearly 
impossible with all the damage the American bombs are doing to the 
roads. It is dangerous as well." 

"Not as dangerous as fleeing the country." 

Krycek's expression did not falter; he did not flinch one bit. "What 
do you mean, Spender?" 

Spender pulled his pistol and aimed it at Krycek. "You. You are 
leaving the country." 

"Are you out of your mind? We have a war to fight. How could I 
possibly be leaving the country?" 

"That's not what I have heard." 

"Don't you think that if I was going to leave, I would have gone by 
now?" 

"Rats always leave the sinking ship." 

"Come on, Spender, this is not funny anymore. It's cold, and I am 
growing impatient with your accusations." 

He motioned for Mulder to continue putting the bags in the trunk. 
Mulder hesitantly moved towards the open trunk of the car. 

"Stop," Spender said, pulling his pistol. 

Mulder froze, cold sweat beginning to prickle on his back. He looked 
over at Krycek who had a look in his eye that he knew all too well; 
someone was going to pay for doing something wrong. 

"Spender, this is bullshit! Put the pistol away, and I will forget 
this incident ever happened." 

Spender walked up to Krycek, holding his pistol on him the whole way. 

"I know about you. I know what you are doing. You are betraying your 
country." 

"I am not betraying anyone." 

Mulder slammed the trunk to the car, causing Spender to look over at 
the noise. In that split second, Krycek had Spender disarmed and 
kneeling on the ground. Mulder ran over to the other car and dragged 
the driver out, holding him against the car. 

"Krycek, can we talk about this?" Spender sputtered. 

"No. I am going to gain great pleasure by killing you, you cocksucking 
asskisser." Krycek brought his hand up, knife glittering in the 
moonlight. Silently, he yanked Spender's head back so their eyes met 
before slowly dragging the knife across his neck. He held his head as 
the blood spurted then gushed out into the white snow, maintaining eye 
contact the whole time. He did this, not just to confirm death, but to 
confirm to the dying man who was killing him. Finally, he threw the 
limp body forward to the ground. 

He looked over at Mulder and the other driver, who stood horrified at 
the scene. 

"You're next." Krycek pointed the knife at the driver. 

"No. I'm just a driver, I'm nobody." 

"You like to rape women. German women. No, I think you need to die. On 
your knees." 

"But, but, I was just doing my job." 

"I don't care." This time, Krycek opted for the pistol he took from 
Spender, shooting the driver through the back of the skull. 

Mulder watched as Krycek cleaned off his knife in the snow before 
tucking it into a sheath somewhere in the coat he wore. He put the 
pistol into a pocket. 

"You get the bags and put them in the back seat; I will put the bodies 
in the trunk. We might as well take Spender's car; it is warm." 

Mulder did as he was told, sliding into the driver's seat of the car. 
He clenched and unclenched his hands on the steering wheel. He had 
never been in combat, save for dropping bombs from his plane. He knew 
his bombs had killed people, but he had never been up close and 
personal to the action before. 

The trunk slammed, and Krycek got in the back seat. His coat was 
covered in blood. 

"Drive northwest on the road to Hamburg; I will tell you when to turn 
and when to stop. How is the petrol?" 

"It's full." 

"Good. Now drive." 

Mulder backed the car out and started up the road in the direction 
Krycek told him to go. Silently he drove, not asking questions, as he 
did not want to know the answers. His heart was pounding, hoping there 
was not a roadblock along the way with the bodies in the trunk. Just 
after Wittenberge, Mulder was told to turn off onto a country road 
until they reached a barn. Mulder turned into the barn and put the car 
in park. Sunlight was starting to peek over the hills at the horizon. 

Krycek got out of the car and motioned for Mulder to stay still. He 
sighed and leaned his head back, stretching the muscles. He was 
surprised to see Krycek wheel out a motorcycle with saddlebags along 
the sides. 

Krycek came over to Mulder in the car. "Put the car in the barn, and 
bring the bags." 

Mulder did as he was told, grateful that they were rid of the bodies. 

"Put on the balaclava and wear the warm mitts; it's going to be cold." 


Mulder put on the woolen toque that covered his face, except for holes 
for his eyes and mouth. The mitts were soft and warm. 

Krycek himself donned a felt muffler and goggles that covered his 
eyes. Swiftly, he stowed the small bags. Krycek had gotten rid of most 
of the blood from his leather coat, brushing it off after it had 
dried. He swung one leg over the motorcycle and kick started it. It 
let out a loud bang but started just the same. 

Mulder got on the back of the bike and wrapped his arms around Krycek. 
His cock stiffened at the feel of the feel of the hard, leather-clad 
body before him and the engine between his legs. He put his head on 
the leather-covered shoulder and closed his eyes as the motorcycle 
pulled onto the road. 

  

  

  



They drove on through the day, the wind nipping and biting at their 
cheeks. They encountered only two roadblocks on the road from Hamburg, 
Krycek easily talking his way through them. 

They were about 10 miles from Bremerhaven when the motorcycle began to 
sputter and backfire. Krycek pulled off the road, and both men got 
off. 

"I am afraid, Mulder, that we are out of petrol. There is no chance we 
will find any; we need to walk the rest of the way. I think we should 
go through the woods, so we do not encounter any troops along the 
road." 

"I agree, it's probably safer." Mulder removed the balaclava from his 
face, rolling it up so it just covered his head. It was a little 
warmer now than it had been before. 

Krycek looked at the long shadows of the late afternoon. "Let's find 
shelter and camp for the night, I am tired. Tomorrow we will start out 
and make the rest of the journey. The ship does not leave until 
afternoon; we should be able to make it." 

"Ship?" 

"Yes, I've procured passage on a ship. We are going to South America. 
Come, let's start walking." 

Mulder stood on the spot, digesting the information Krycek just told 
him. While he didn't want to be a prisoner anymore, he was not sure 
that he wanted to drop out of sight completely. He had a home, a life 
in the United States, and now he was expected to give all that up? He 
watched as Krycek pushed the motorcycle into the woods to hide it. Did 
he want to abandon everything for this man? This man who would have 
killed him two months ago? This man who raped him repeatedly, who made 
him feel unbelievable pleasure, who bathed him, fed him when he was 
not well. 

A warm feeling started in the pit of Mulder's stomach. //I do love 
him. I don't think I can live without him. Even if I did make it back 
to the States, I couldn't be the same man I was. Yes, I want to be 
with him forever.// 

"What? What is it? You are smiling," Krycek said as he looked back at 
Mulder. 

"I'm just thinking." 

"About what?" 

Mulder walked ahead into the woods, making sure they had adequate 
coverage and could not be seen from the road before answering. "About 
you. I was thinking about you." Mulder put his hands on Krycek's 
shoulders and brought him in for a kiss, his lips cold from the wind. 
He did not press too hard, as his lip still hurt from his altercation 
yesterday. 

Krycek grinned. "I see. We will have plenty of time for that later, my 
friend." 

Both men turned and started walking through the woods to find some 
shelter. Krycek found an abandoned lean-to about an hour later. Strong 
branches were lashed together with twine, and soft moss covered the 
ground inside. There was a circle of rocks in front of the lean-to, 
indicating a fire-pit. It had not been used in some time. 

"It is as if it was meant for us, hey, Mulder?" 

"I think so." 

"Thank god there is not much snow, or we would be shoveling. I will 
make a fire; you prepare supper for us. You will find some leftovers 
from yesterday in my bag." 

Mulder got to work, finding the handkerchief with the bread, sausage, 
cheese and preserves in the side pocket. Most of it was frozen, but 
once they got the fire going, they could roast the sausage and toast 
the bread on sticks. He found the metal water canteen; this was also 
partially frozen but would warm up by the fire. 

Krycek came back with a load of dry twigs, moss and branches. Soon 
they had a small fire before them and were eating the food. Mulder 
found it hard to chew with his wounds, and he had to break off small 
pieces barely big enough to swallow. 

"You are still hurting?" 

"Yes." 

"I should have killed that bastard more slowly. He had no right to 
touch you." 

A shock ran through Mulder. "You killed him?" 

"Yes. He was a menace, always bothering Ingrid; the maid was terrified 
of him. I think he may have raped her once, but no one ever told me 
for sure, so I could not take action." 

Mulder still had a shocked look on his face. Krycek turned to him. 
"Mulder, if I did not kill him, he would be dead by now anyway. The 
only reason why he lived so long was because I took him in. Do not 
feel sorry for him; he was an animal." 

Mulder took a deep breath. No one had ever done anything like that for 
him before. That warm feeling ran through him again; deep down he was 
proud that Krycek would protect him like that. 

"He came at me with such hatred in his eyes. I didn't know who he was. 
I kept asking him why he was doing those things to me." 

"It's all over now, Mulder. Let us not think of the horrible things 
that have happened, let's think of the good, hmmm? First things 
first." 

Krycek stood and took off his leather coat and hat. He immediately 
threw the hat onto the fire. He then plucked the silver adornments off 
of the coat, ripping the rank and SS insignia off the collar as well. 
Everything went into the fire. When he was finished with that, he 
handed the coat to Mulder. He then took off his uniform; Mulder could 
see the civilian clothes underneath. He untucked the pants and put the 
legs over the jackboots, giving the illusion that they were just 
shoes. Krycek then put his leather coat on again and sat down. He 
began ripping the uniform into strips of fabric to be used later. As 
with the coat, any adornments went into the fire. 

Mulder looked over at the transformation that had occurred. No longer 
were they on opposite sides of the war; no longer was he the nazi who 
beat him and raped him. He was now just a man. A man who wanted to 
help him escape this horrible place. This man was not his enemy; this 
man was his lover. 

"Oh yes," Krycek said as he picked up his bag. He brought out three 
packets of papers. "These are your papers that we took off of you when 
you got captured." 

Krycek handed him a packet that Mulder immediately put into his 
pocket. Somehow having them back made him feel like he had his 
identity back as well. 

"I want you to have this pistol and knife as well. You are going to 
need protection in the woods." He handed Mulder the objects, which he 
also put into his pockets. 

Krycek held the other two packets of papers in his hands. He stared at 
the one in his left hand before throwing it on the fire. His eyes 
glazed over for a minute as he watched the paper burn, then a relieved 
smile crossed his face. 

"Good bye Alexander." He turned to Mulder. "From now on, my name is 
Aleksei, and I am Russian." 

"You are, are you?" Mulder smirked, "I can't tell the difference." 

Krycek laughed, "It is subtle." 

"Do you at least speak Russian?" 

"Of course! I spent years fighting them and interrogating them. I 
needed to know the language." 

Mulder watched Krycek stare off into space for a moment before he 
spoke. 

"You know, up there, on the Russian front, it was hell. I was with the 
62nd Panzer Engineer Battalion in 1941, the coldest winter ever. We 
were not prepared; we did not have winter gear. Our camouflage 
consisted of white sheets tied around us." Krycek snorted and shook 
his head. "The nails in our jackboots made our feet seem colder than 
blocks of ice. I stuffed the bottoms of mine with paper, rags, 
anything to keep out the cold. We had this tube of wool that we used 
as a toque and scarf. Our pistols froze, the tanks froze, the horses 
froze, it was -40 in the sunshine. We had no idea what we were up 
against. Their troops were from Siberia, trained to fight in the cold. 
They wore Valenki, which were felt boots with felt socks, keeping 
their feet warm. They had a fur cap, fur mitts and a white cotton 
camouflage oversuit which was worn over a quilted suit, keeping out 
the wind. They sheltered in snowhouses lined with branches and topped 
by tarpaulin, just like their homes in Siberia. They had low 
temperature oil in their machines, and their submachine guns were 
winterized. Needless to say, they kicked our asses. The lowliest day 
of my military career was retreating from the Russians. It felt as if 
my whole world had collapsed." 

Krycek stopped talking and shook his head again. "But I am not heeding 
my own advice, am I? I am talking about bad things when we should be 
remembering the good, looking towards the future." 

He reached out and stroked Mulder's face, bringing him in for a kiss. 
"I am so glad you are here." He kissed him harder, careful of the cut 
still on Mulder's lip, his gloved hands running over the wool of the 
coat. 

"I want you to feel happy, Mulder, I want you to feel good. Let me 
make you feel good." 

He pushed Mulder down on his back, caressing his cheek with leather 
fingertips. He moved down and undid the bottom buttons of Mulder's 
overcoat. Pushing the fabric back, he pulled the sweater up slightly 
and undid the trousers. 

Mulder moaned in anticipation of what was going to happen next. He 
instantly hardened as Krycek's mouth enveloped his cock. He squirmed 
in delight as Krycek's tongue ran around the head and down, lapping 
him up then releasing him again and again. Finally, Krycek started 
sucking with hard, long strokes. Mulder's hands clenched inside his 
mitts, and he moaned louder. A few minutes later, he felt release as 
he came inside his lover's mouth, arching up off the ground. 

Krycek lapped up Mulder's fluid and licked him clean before returning 
his member to his trousers. He smiled as he bundled Mulder up, 
bringing him up for a kiss. 

"Thank you," Mulder said. 

"You're welcome. Come, we should get some rest." Krycek put another 
branch on the small fire and crawled back into the lean-to. He sat 
with his back braced against the strong back wall of the shelter and 
opened his legs, inviting Mulder to sit between them. 

Mulder leaned back against Krycek, feeling his strong arms come around 
him. He was tired; it had been an emotional couple of days. He 
snuggled his head back into Krycek's shoulder before drifting off to 
sleep. 

  

  

  



Krycek awoke to the sound of footsteps outside the lean-to. He was 
about to emerge when he heard voices. 

"Someone's over here, in this shelter." 

Krycek drew back, afraid. These were American voices. He heard the 
clap of a clip being put into a machine gun. Mulder was gone. A wave 
of anger ran through him as he thought of these people touching his 
Mulder. 

"Come out, with your hands up." 

Krycek remained inside for a few seconds before emerging with his 
hands up. 

"Ne strelyaite!" Outside the lean-to were two American soldiers. They 
looked Krycek over, deciding what to do with him. Krycek knew that 
look; he had worn it many times before he had executed someone. 

"Well, what do we have here?" the first soldier said. 

"I dunno, but I don't like it." The second soldier brought his rifle 
up and pointed it at Krycek's head. 

Inside, Krycek was seething. How dared they treat him this way. He 
knew, however, that he had to put on a show if he wanted to live. 

"Please..." Krycek said in his best Russian accent. "Please, I escape 
from camp. I am alone. We are allies, yes?" 

"Are you Russian?" 

"Yes." 

"I hate Russians." 

Suddenly, a shot rang out, and the soldier holding the rifle to 
Krycek's head fell to the ground. Then a second shot rang out, and the 
other soldier collapsed in a heap. Blood spattered on Krycek and on 
the ground. 

Krycek looked over to where the shots had come from and saw Mulder 
with the pistol he had given him earlier. He was stunned. Mulder had 
never been aggressive, save for one time in the prison. Mulder ran up 
to him and gathered a few things off the soldiers, stuffing them in 
his bag. He grabbed Krycek's bag and held it out to him. Krycek took 
it without a word. 

"Are you okay?" 

"Yes, I...I think so." 

"Come on, we have to get out of here. They were probably an advance 
scouting patrol; there will be more soldiers around here." 

Krycek still stood there, not believing Mulder had killed his own 
countrymen to protect him. 

Mulder shook Krycek by the shoulders, "Hey. We have to get out of 
here, now." 

"Yes, we must go." 

Together both men ran through the woods, not looking back, hopefully 
in the right direction. Krycek stopped once and checked his compass, 
turning them towards their destination. About two miles from where the 
soldiers lay, they reached a small stream. Both men were sweating from 
the warm clothes and physical exertion. The temperature had risen 
considerably, and the snow was melting in the dappled sunlight. The 
stream afforded them some drinking water as well as a place to wash 
off the blood. 

Sensing Mulder staring at him, Krycek looked over at him as he made 
sure he'd gotten all the blood off. "What's wrong, Mulder?" 

"You were almost killed back there. I thought you were going to die!" 
Mulder's eyes were as wide as he'd ever seen them. The man was almost 
in shock. 

"It's all right, Mulder, it's never easy to kill a man," Krycek 
attempted to soothe him. 

"Fuck them! I don't give a damn about those men; they got what they 
deserved. But I almost lost you!" Mulder reached for Krycek, feeling 
that instinctive urge to prove he was still alive that is natural 
after surviving violence. 

Understanding Mulder's need, Krycek let him take the lead, lying 
almost submissively under his beautiful lover when Mulder pushed him 
down after stripping them both. After a deep, aggressive kiss, Mulder 
reared back and pushed inside Krycek with almost no preliminaries. 
Fortunately, Krycek's blood was up as well, and he enjoyed the sting 
of pain that rapidly swelled into pleasure. But Mulder was beyond 
reason, operating on sheer brute instinct, and he slammed in and out 
of Krycek, intent only on his own pleasure. Soon his entire body 
arched into Krycek's, trying to get even deeper inside him as he 
exploded. 

Slowly pushing up on trembling arms a short while later, Mulder 
carefully withdrew from his lover, thankful to see no blood. But he 
did see Krycek's unsatisfied erection, and he bit his lip, too ashamed 
to meet Krycek's eyes. 

"Look at me, Fox." Alex waited until Mulder obeyed him before 
continuing. "It's all right, I understand. I get pleasure from your 
pleasure." 

But that wasn't enough for Mulder. Or rather, he didn't think it was 
enough for Krycek. In the next instant, Mulder had swooped down on 
Krycek, swallowing him to the root. As excited as Krycek had been by 
Mulder's brutal possession of him, the sensation of Mulder's tongue 
fluttering along the length of his cock while he was engulfed in the 
heat of his mouth was more than enough for him. He came, groaning 
Mulder's name. 

Mulder straightened back up, lying along the length of Krycek's body 
for a brief instant before they had to get up and continue on their 
way. It was not safe for them to stay there. Right now, anyone in 
either army would probably shoot them as spies, traitors, or 
deserters. They shared a quick kiss before continuing on. 

They were making good time through the woods; they only had about two 
miles to go before they got to Bremerhaven. Krycek walked a little 
faster, almost running, as he knew their destination was near. They 
crested a hill and were greeted by five German soldiers, who turned 
and trained their rifles on Krycek and Mulder. Four of the soldiers 
were quite young; the fifth was older and was an officer. 

"Halt!" 

Both men came to a stop and raised their hands. 

The older man told the soldiers to put their rifles down and came over 
to Krycek, a smirk on his face. He spoke to Krycek in a low voice, out 
of range of his colleagues. Mulder wished he could understand German 
as he heard the whispers from the man a mere couple of feet away. 

"Hello, Krycek." 

"Pendrell." Krycek licked his lips. 

"Where are you going?" 

Silence from Krycek. 

"I see you have your little American friend with you. I heard you had 
taken this prisoner as a valet. He is nice looking, isn't he?" 

Krycek still remained silent. 

Pendrell looked Krycek in the eye, "Look. I am not going to stop you; 
I am merely doing this for show to my underlings back there. They 
think we're actually winning this war." Pendrell smirked, looked over 
at Mulder then back at Krycek, "You know, if I had a lover that good 
looking, I'd hide him from everyone else as well." 

Krycek's jaw almost dropped to the ground. 

"I can tell, Krycek. I have known you too long, and too well, not to 
notice when you are in love." 

Krycek smirked ever so slightly and his eyes softened. Pendrell was a 
good friend, someone he had known a long time before the war. They had 
played together as children, went to school together. They would 
torment the young girls in their class by pulling their braids and 
taunting them that they could see up their skirts. 

Later, as adults, he had come over to Krycek's house often for dinner. 
Krycek knew Pendrell had a penchant for men but said nothing to their 
superiors. One thing Krycek did not do was betray a long, true 
friendship. 

"Tell you what," Pendrell said. "Let's give the Hitler youth over 
there a thrill. I'll start shouting at you, then you and your 
companion take off running. If I do not do anything, they will tell 
Oberbahnfuehrer Kersh, and I do not need that hassle. 

"Kersh is not as understanding as some of them." 

"Aaah, you speak." He smiled at his friend. 

"I wish things were different, Pendrell. Remember the fun we used to 
have?" 

"I remember you getting me drunk for the first time and dumping me on 
the porch of my parents' house. I had to clean out the stable, alone, 
for a month as penance." 

Krycek wanted to laugh but couldn't due to the soldiers that faced 
him. A look of sorrow came over him as he remembered the good times 
they had together, times they could never have again. 

"It's okay, Krycek, I forgave you eventually." He stifled a laugh and 
continued. "Have you been running long?" 

"A day. Skinner may be looking for me." 

"I have not seen you since before your prison was destroyed." 

"Thank you." Krycek whispered. 

Pendrell sighed, "I will miss you, my friend, wherever you are going. 
If you ever make it back here, please look me up. I may survive this 
war, you never know." 

Krycek smirked again, just barely. "You will survive." 

"If I find a man as good looking as yours, I will." 

Krycek nearly blushed; he was proud of how good Mulder looked and the 
fact that only he could touch him. 

"Take care of him, and take care of yourself." 

A twinge of regret ran through Krycek that he could not embrace his 
childhood friend a final time. 

Pendrell stood back, grinning before a serious look replaced it. He 
walked back to his men and stood behind them. "You have exactly ten 
seconds to get out of here before we shoot you," he shouted. 

The soldiers raised their rifles, aiming to kill. 

Pendrell winked. "Go, now!" 

Mulder and Krycek turned and ran like they had never run before. 
Mulder's heart was beating so fast he thought he was going to have a 
heart attack. 

Finally, after twenty minutes of running, they were on the outskirts 
of town. They stopped to catch their breath. 

"You knew that man, didn't you?" 

"I don't know any of these people, Mulder. It is better if we believe 
that." Krycek started walking again. 

Mulder followed him down a lane beside a grove of trees. When they 
cleared the grove, Mulder could see the port below, with its cranes 
and large cargo ships. Large chunks of ice floated inside the 
breakwater. There were a few German war ships in port, but the 
majority of them were floating just off shore, ready to fight at a 
moment's notice. The wind was hitting them full-blast off of the 
water, cold and unrelenting. 

They made their way down to the docks, Krycek leading the way, 
carefully picking their way through the variety of cargo that littered 
the docks. Finally, they got to their destination, a cargo ship that 
looked as if it had seen better days. Paint was peeling off its sides, 
and barnacles covered a large portion of the hull. Mulder trusted 
Krycek; however, something bristled at the back of his neck upon sight 
of this ship. 

Krycek saw the captain and told Mulder to stay where he was. He did 
not want him to know that only one passenger was expected. 

Mulder saw the large man shake his head, then Krycek folded his arms 
across his chest. Whatever they were talking about had made Krycek 
very angry. 

Mulder huddled inside his coat, trying to find some protection from 
the biting wind that whipped across the deck while he watched Krycek 
argue with the ship's captain. Krycek had tried to draw the sailor out 
of earshot, but the captain's anger made him raise his voice to the 
point that he was clearly audible to Mulder. 

"You paid for passage for one person on my ship. One! Not two! Two 
increases the danger of being discovered by patrols, and what is he 
supposed to eat? You think I carry extra food for any stray who 
happens by? No! This is a working vessel and every bit of space makes 
a profit. There is no room for him. He goes!" 

The conversation made it clear to Mulder that Krycek had not intended 
to bring him along. How long ago had he changed his mind? Thinking 
back to the night they left Berlin, Mulder remembered that Krycek had 
been fully dressed and ready to go when he woke him up. It would have 
made more sense and saved time for them both to get up at the same 
time. So it was only that night, after he was ready to leave that 
Krycek decided to bring him. Something must have happened, or Mulder 
would have woken up the next morning alone in the middle of the Nazi 
capital. He'd have been killed. 

The growing anger in Krycek's voice drew his attention. The German was 
flushed with rage, faced with opposition for probably the first time 
since he'd put on that now-gone SS uniform. He'd forgotten what it was 
like not to instill fear and obedience in others. Finally he pulled 
out some money, giving it to the captain. It was more than he felt 
comfortable giving away when he could not access his other funds and 
less than the captain wanted. But it served his purpose. The captain 
allowed them both to stay and had one of the crewmen take them down to 
a hidden area in the hold where they would stay. 

Once alone, Krycek eyed Mulder uneasily. He was nearly certain that 
Mulder had heard his conversation with the captain - he thought the 
people in Berlin might have heard the man's bellows! - and he didn't 
know how he would react. 

"You don't really want me with you, do you?" Mulder asked sadly, his 
eyes filled with pain. 

Before Krycek could respond, the captain and five of his sailors 
walked in. Two men each grabbed hold of Mulder and Krycek, restraining 
them. In their surprise they never had a chance to resist. 

The captain walked up to stand in front of Krycek, leering at him. 
Krycek turned his head away from the powerful aroma of rum and other, 
less pleasant things on his breath. 

"Since you haven't paid full passage, you two pretty boys are going to 
have to work off your debt." The captain laughed when Krycek's green 
eyes narrowed and turned to ice. He turned to Mulder, who was looking 
increasingly nervous. 

"Well, you're not as pretty as this one, but you're still a lot better 
than most I've seen." Saying that, the captain leaned forward and 
licked Mulder's jaw and cheek. The American could not prevent a cry of 
disgust. Krycek fought his captors, trying to get to Mulder. 

"Leave him alone!" He knew he shouldn't let them know that it bothered 
him when they touched Mulder, but he was too enraged to remain silent. 


The captain laughed again, nodding to the crewmen holding Mulder. They 
turned him around so his back was to the captain and forced him to 
lean over a barrel. The captain pulled out his knife and cut through 
the waistband and back of Mulder's pants, baring him. He licked his 
lips when he saw the whip scars on Mulder's back and buttocks. 

Krycek, meanwhile, was going wild. The other sailor had joined his 
companions in restraining him, and Krycek was still giving them 
trouble. One man being enough to hold the terrified Mulder, the second 
went over to help with Krycek. Finally the four men had him under 
control. The captain looked over, staring into Krycek's eyes while he 
pulled out his cock and rubbed it. Krycek snarled at him. The captain 
continued to hold Krycek's gaze as he forced his way inside Mulder, 
drawing a cry of pain from him. The captain slammed in and out of him 
only a few times before he came and pulled out, streaks of Mulder's 
blood decorating his softening penis. He stroked himself to try and 
maintain some stiffness. He wasn't done with these two yet. 

As soon as the captain stepped back from Mulder, one of the other 
sailors released his hold on Krycek and took his captain's place 
behind Mulder. Krycek now stood in frozen stillness, his eyes never 
leaving Mulder and what these men were doing to him. He barely even 
noticed when one of the men stripped his pants off him and raped him. 
One after the other, the sailors changed places until each had had his 
turn with one of the two men. By this time, Mulder's sobs of pain, 
which degenerated into pitiful whimpers, and the sight of what was 
happening had gotten the captain hard again. Now he turned his 
attention on Krycek. 

As he had done with Mulder, the captain slammed into him with no 
preparation. Even after the previous three rapes, it hurt, but Krycek 
didn't make a sound. His eyes were still fixed on Mulder, and he could 
see nothing else. Finishing with a grunt, the captain withdrew and 
pushed Krycek to the floor, the sailors letting go of him. The six men 
rearranged their clothing while laughing at the men on the floor. 

"Now, you've paid your passage," the captain laughed. They turned to 
leave. 

But the captain's words had finally penetrated Krycek's fog of rage, 
and he leapt to his feet, ignoring any pain. He pulled a knife from 
his boot and had cut the captain's throat before anyone realized what 
was happening. Then he turned on the others. Although there were six 
of them, Krycek was in the grip of a berserker rage that would have 
done his ancestors proud, and he didn't even notice what few wounds 
they managed to inflict before he killed them all, slashing them into 
ribbons, continuing on long after they were dead. 

A gagging sound finally drew his attention, and he looked up to meet 
the terrified gaze of a young sailor. Krycek stopped mangling the 
bodies and drew himself to his feet, covered in blood from head to 
toe. Looking at the sailor, he said, "Bring us down some water to 
wash, and take these bodies away. And tell everyone on this accursed 
ship that aside from bringing us food and water, I don't want to see 
anyone until this voyage is over." The sailor turned to run. "Wait! If 
we don't receive adequate food and water, I'll come looking for it and 
for whoever left us without. And I'll do to him what I did to these. 
Now go!" 

Krycek sank to his knees beside Mulder, who was curled into a fetal 
position at the base of the barrel, whimpering. Despite the blood 
covering him, Krycek reached out to pull Mulder into his arms, gasping 
when he flinched away from his touch. But then Mulder's eyes focused 
on him, and he threw himself into Krycek's welcoming embrace. 

Krycek was so angry with himself for not being able to protect Mulder 
that he couldn't speak. He contented himself with stroking the other 
man's back comfortingly, ignoring the murmurs in the background when 
crewmembers came to bring them water and food, which he hadn't asked 
for but was grateful to receive, and to take the bodies away. He 
reached over for the wash water and rags, pulling it closer so he 
could wipe Mulder and himself clean. Mulder lay quietly in his arms 
all the while, his sounds of misery reduced to occasional sniffles. 

They dozed off eventually, sleeping uneasily. Krycek started awake at 
every sound, determined not to be taken unaware a second time. But 
finally exhaustion caught up with him, and he sank into a deep sleep. 
He was woken only a couple of hours later by Mulder nuzzling his 
throat and stroking his cock. Startled, he jumped and flinched away. 

Mulder moaned at his reaction, pulling away from him to curl up into a 
ball of abject misery. His shoulders shook as he tried to hold in his 
sobs, but he couldn't. When Krycek reached to comfort him, it was his 
turn to flinch away from the contact, and he scuttled into a corner, 
staring at Krycek from tear-drenched hazel eyes. 

"Mulder. . . Fox, they won't touch you again. I killed them. You don't 
have to be afraid." Krycek tried to find the right words, despite his 
shame at allowing this to happen. 

"It doesn't matter though, does it? They did touch me, and now I 
disgust you! You didn't really want to bring me with you in the first 
place, and now the only reason you kept me around is gone! You only 
wanted me because no other man had ever touched me. But you won't ever 
want to touch me again after they did." 

Krycek was literally shocked speechless. Mulder thought he disgusted 
him? It was he who should disgust Mulder. And what was this idiocy 
about him not wanting to touch Mulder? He would sooner give up food or 
water. "F-f-fox," he stammered, "how could you ever think that you 
disgust me?" 

"You pulled away when I touched you! You don't want me to touch you," 
Mulder accused. 

"I was still half asleep, Fox, and after last night, at first I didn't 
realize it was you. Then I didn't want to hurt you," Alex tried to 
explain, but Mulder wasn't listening. "Mulder! Listen to me. You do 
not disgust me. I love you, and I am so sorry that I couldn't stop 
that from happening to you. I should have been better prepared." 

Mulder had stopped listening again. Instead he was staring at Krycek 
with a bedazzled expression in his eyes. He couldn't believe what he 
had heard. "You love me?" 

Krycek halted his stammering attempts to explain and stared. Had he 
said that? Yes, he had. When had that happened? Despite Pendrell's 
comment, which he had brushed off as romanticism, he had not been 
aware of his feelings for Fox, but they were perfectly clear to him 
now. He was in love with the other man. He smiled gently at Fox. "Yes, 
I love you, my Fox." 

Mulder slid over into his arms, clinging to him desperately until 
Krycek lowered his head and pressed a tender kiss upon his lips. 
Mulder stared up at him hopefully. "Please fuck me, Alex, I need you 
to." 

Krycek was shocked again. "What?! No! You're hurt, Fox, I won't hurt 
you more!" He couldn't believe Mulder would even ask that of him. He 
had to be in pain. Krycek knew he was. Fortunately, other than the 
captain, the other men had not been particularly brutal. 

"Alex, please. I need to know that you still want me, that I don't 
disgust you." Seeing Krycek's denial in his eyes, he continued, "And I 
need to feel your touch. Make me feel you and not them, Alex. I need 
that." 

Alex couldn't deny that appeal. But he still wasn't going to hurt his 
lover. He started by removing the remnants of Mulder's clothing, the 
other man having been unwilling to let go of him long enough to change 
clothes the night before. When Mulder was naked, he quickly stripped 
off his own bloodstained clothing and gently urged Mulder to lie flat 
on the floor, stretching out beside him. He started from the top, 
running his fingers through Mulder's hair, gently massaging his scalp 
until he could feel him start to relax. He dropped a kiss on each 
eyelid and slowly traced each feature with tiny kisses, avoiding his 
lips till the end. Finally, he drew that luscious bottom lip between 
his teeth and nipped gently before settling his mouth over Fox's. He 
slowly explored the familiar cavity, tangling their tongues together 
for long moments, enjoying this opportunity to refamiliarize himself 
with Mulder. Mulder moaned a protest when he ended the kiss, but his 
complaints died a quick death when Alex licked his throat before 
settling in to suckle on one spot. Mulder arched his throat into the 
caress, knowing that Alex was leaving his mark on him in a visible 
location for the first time and loving it. Before they had always had 
to be careful to avoid suspicions. 

Finally Alex released Mulder's throat, smiling in possessive pleasure 
at the mark before nibbling his way down Mulder's chest. Both nipples 
were already hard and waiting for his touch, so he drew one into his 
mouth while he stroked and lightly pinched the other with his fingers. 
Ordinarily, he'd have teased Mulder for much longer but he didn't want 
the slightest hint of pain, even pleasurable pain, to mar this 
experience. Not this time. Not after what had been done to him. 

Krycek continued his slow exploration of Mulder's body, licking every 
inch, finally ending up at his rigid erection. Krycek licked that too, 
then his balls, sucking on them and enjoying Mulder's cries of 
pleasure. He stroked Mulder's ass, once sliding one finger gently over 
the anus just to show Mulder that he still wanted to touch him. He 
didn't need Mulder's slight wince to know that he was much too sore to 
be touched there. Instead he brought his hands around, one playing 
with Mulder's balls while the other supported him. He continued to 
lick and suck Mulder until his cries told him that it wasn't enough 
any more, then he drew Mulder deep into his throat while his tongue 
continued to flutter along the shaft. 

Mulder groaned in pleasure, clutching Krycek's hair in his fists to 
hold him to him while he thrust into that willing mouth. It only took 
a few more seconds for him to come, Krycek swallowing to milk him of 
every last drop of fluid and slowly releasing him to lick up anything 
he might have missed. Mulder whimpered as his tongue stroked over the 
overly sensitive head of his cock, and Krycek dropped a last kiss on 
it before sliding up to lie alongside him. 

When Mulder stopped panting, he rolled onto one side to look at Alex, 
who gazed back inquisitively. "You didn't come." 

Krycek shrugged. He was aroused, certainly, almost painfully so, but 
that had been for Mulder. 

Mulder stared at Krycek's erection avidly. He could see the beads of 
pre-cum on the head and knew that Alex was close. It wouldn't take 
much. "I want you to come. I want to see you come, Alex. Please." 

Krycek stared back. He'd never done this in front of anyone, not even 
his wife. She'd have been shocked and embarrassed even to think of 
such a thing. He didn't know if he could. Then he saw Fox's tongue 
flick over his lips as he stared at him, and he knew that he wanted to 
do this. Waiting until Fox looked up and met his eyes, he reached down 
and grasped his cock. He gasped when he started to pump it, and Fox's 
gaze dropped back down to watch him. It didn't take long before he 
groaned loudly and came, his fluid covering his hand and belly. Fox 
slid down and licked him clean, suckling on his fingers for long 
moments. When he came back up, Alex drew him down, half over him, and 
wrapped both arms around him. 

Mulder tilted his head up to meet Krycek's eyes, smiling. "Thank you." 
Then he tucked his head into the hollow of Krycek's shoulder and went 
to sleep. With a smile on his own face, and weapons close at hand, 
Krycek dozed off as well.