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Title: London Rain
Author: Ruth Sadelle Alderson
Rating: FRAO for m/m sex, but only after the plot. ;)
Spoilers: No. Although Krycek has two arms.
Keywords: Mulder/Krycek, slash
Disclaimer: Mulder and Krycek don't belong to me. Neither do Scully or Skinner, but I'm not as upset about that. "London Rain" isn't mine either.
Summary: Krycek comes home
Author's Note: Yes, it's songfic. Yes, I know that is universally frowned upon, but the song was just too good to pass up.
****
Nothing falls like London Rain
Nothing heals me like you do
I'm coming home to you
****
I stand in Heathrow, staring out the window at the rain while I wait for my flight to be called. Nicky is safe. Natalya is dead. I'm tired. And cold. And I am going home. I have been battered and bruised and I'm not sure I can make it, but the thought of that voice and those beautiful hazel eyes remind me that I have to. I have to get home. Home. I remember when that word didn't mean anything to me. Before I took that job. The one to watch the FBI's most unwanted. It all changed the first time I saw him, saw that intense concentration mixed with that unbelievable beauty. Finally my flight is called and I head toward the boarding line with one final glance at the rain.
****
I can't wait to get home to you
to get warm and undressed
****
I knock on his door. I have a key from when we were partners, but I don't use it. I could also break in, but I don't do that either. I don't want this to happen that way. His face is surprised as he opens the door, but the surprise quickly turns to anger.
"What do you want, Krycek?" His voice is tight with hatred, but he's also curious. I hold up my hands to show him that I won't shoot him. I walk past him slowly and stop, allowing him to close the door and run his hands over me to find that I'm completely unarmed. When his hands touch me, I start to thaw, just a bit. "What do you want?" he repeats when he's sure I'm not there to kill him. Before I can answer, he seems to notice my condition. The stubble and the dirt and the clothes that feel as if they'll never be clean. He sighs, then heads for his bedroom. I follow, curious. He rummages around, then tosses me some clothes. "Take a shower, shave, change," he orders. He finds me a toothbrush, and I do as he says. The shower makes me feel a little warmer, but there's still a cold that won't thaw. As I dress in his boxers and shirt, I realize I'm shaking and I can't stop. I try, but I still shake. I'm also so tired I can barely stand. I emerge from the bathroom and he's standing there, watching me shake. He sighs. "Come on. You can sleep in the bedroom. I always sleep on the couch anyway." I curl under the covers and he turns to leave. My heart breaks. There was a time when he would have stayed if I asked him. I know he won't now, so I don't ask, but some small sound must have given me away, because he turns and looks at me for a moment before leaving. I can hear his footsteps as I fall asleep.
I awake to the sound of his voice and realize he must be in the other room, talking to Scully. His partner. Once, it might have been me. I fade back into sleep.
****
So keep me in your bed all day
Nothing heals me like you do
****
I awake, in the morning, to voices. She's there. Scully. Talking to him. The way they always talk. As if nothing matters but what they are discussing. They're talking about me.
"Scully, he's not going to hurt anyone or go anywhere. At least, not yet. He was so tired, he could barely walk. And Scully, he was shaking."
"All right. We'll keep him here for now. Did he tell you why he's here?"
"No. Actually, he didn't say anything at all." I open my eyes to see them drinking coffee in the doorway. "Good morning," he says coolly.
"Good morning," I manage softly. Scully frowns at me, and I realize I'm still shaking. Damn. I just can't stop.
"Mulder, I want to check him out. He might be sick." She hands him her coffee cup and walks over to me. "Sit up." I do. "Take off your shirt." I do that too. I hear him draw in his breath sharply. She merely sets her mouth in a tight line before she examines my cuts and bruises. It takes a while because there are so many. She bandages the worst of the cuts. "I want you to stay in bed today. There's no reason you should be up and about." I nod my head.
"Do you want anything? There are donuts and I can make more coffee."
"Do you have any tea?" It seems as though it's been years since I last spoke. I can barely bring my voice above a whisper.
"I'll look."
"Bring him some of the donuts. He needs to gain some weight." Scully uses her doctor voice and he nods and leaves. "What happened to you?" I look away so she won't see the pain in my eyes.
"He didn't do any of it, if that's what you want to know."
"That's not what I was asking." But she looks somewhat relieved. I eat the donuts and drink the tea. They leave the room and I drift off to sleep, hearing the murmur of their voices. I awake later to use the bathroom. And again in the afternoon. They wake me up for dinner and I pad into the kitchen to eat Chinese take-out with them. I return to bed and to sleep and when I awake again, it's morning and I can smell coffee. When I open my eyes, I see him sitting in a chair, a file in his lap, with his feet propped up on the bed. He's turning pages with one hand and holding his coffee with the other. He looks at me over his glasses. I wonder if he has any idea what he looks like when he does that.
"Take a shower and get dressed. We can talk over breakfast. I assume you know where everything is." He looks at me speculatively before he rises and leaves. I am curled under the covers, trying, still, to get warm. It was meant to hurt, but he's right. I do know where everything is. I find a pair of black jeans and a soft denim shirt. When I walk into the kitchen, I find Mulder and Scully cooking breakfast. The idea of Mulder cooking is so absurd I almost laugh.
"So, Krycek," it's Scully, not Mulder, who begins the questions, "why are you here?" I don't answer, then, suddenly, I realize that I spent all of yesterday in bed. I look at the clock.
"Mulder, can I use your phone to make an overseas phone call?" He looks doubtful. "Please. It's important." I see them exchange looks and he finally acquiesces. I dial the familiar number. When Mikhail answers, I talk with him briefly. I stick to Russian. I don't want Mulder and Scully to hear this. Mikhail is relieved that I am still alive. I tell him that I am too. Finally, I ask to speak to Nicky. He is so glad to talk to me. He chatters about his school life, and I delight in the sound of his voice and the beautiful mixture of Russian and English he uses.
"
Author: Ruth Sadelle Alderson
Rating: FRAO for m/m sex, but only after the plot. ;)
Spoilers: No. Although Krycek has two arms.
Keywords: Mulder/Krycek, slash
Disclaimer: Mulder and Krycek don't belong to me. Neither do Scully or Skinner, but I'm not as upset about that. "London Rain" isn't mine either.
Summary: Krycek comes home
Author's Note: Yes, it's songfic. Yes, I know that is universally frowned upon, but the song was just too good to pass up.
****
Nothing falls like London Rain
Nothing heals me like you do
I'm coming home to you
****
I stand in Heathrow, staring out the window at the rain while I wait for my flight to be called. Nicky is safe. Natalya is dead. I'm tired. And cold. And I am going home. I have been battered and bruised and I'm not sure I can make it, but the thought of that voice and those beautiful hazel eyes remind me that I have to. I have to get home. Home. I remember when that word didn't mean anything to me. Before I took that job. The one to watch the FBI's most unwanted. It all changed the first time I saw him, saw that intense concentration mixed with that unbelievable beauty. Finally my flight is called and I head toward the boarding line with one final glance at the rain.
****
I can't wait to get home to you
to get warm and undressed
****
I knock on his door. I have a key from when we were partners, but I don't use it. I could also break in, but I don't do that either. I don't want this to happen that way. His face is surprised as he opens the door, but the surprise quickly turns to anger.
"What do you want, Krycek?" His voice is tight with hatred, but he's also curious. I hold up my hands to show him that I won't shoot him. I walk past him slowly and stop, allowing him to close the door and run his hands over me to find that I'm completely unarmed. When his hands touch me, I start to thaw, just a bit. "What do you want?" he repeats when he's sure I'm not there to kill him. Before I can answer, he seems to notice my condition. The stubble and the dirt and the clothes that feel as if they'll never be clean. He sighs, then heads for his bedroom. I follow, curious. He rummages around, then tosses me some clothes. "Take a shower, shave, change," he orders. He finds me a toothbrush, and I do as he says. The shower makes me feel a little warmer, but there's still a cold that won't thaw. As I dress in his boxers and shirt, I realize I'm shaking and I can't stop. I try, but I still shake. I'm also so tired I can barely stand. I emerge from the bathroom and he's standing there, watching me shake. He sighs. "Come on. You can sleep in the bedroom. I always sleep on the couch anyway." I curl under the covers and he turns to leave. My heart breaks. There was a time when he would have stayed if I asked him. I know he won't now, so I don't ask, but some small sound must have given me away, because he turns and looks at me for a moment before leaving. I can hear his footsteps as I fall asleep.
I awake to the sound of his voice and realize he must be in the other room, talking to Scully. His partner. Once, it might have been me. I fade back into sleep.
****
So keep me in your bed all day
Nothing heals me like you do
****
I awake, in the morning, to voices. She's there. Scully. Talking to him. The way they always talk. As if nothing matters but what they are discussing. They're talking about me.
"Scully, he's not going to hurt anyone or go anywhere. At least, not yet. He was so tired, he could barely walk. And Scully, he was shaking."
"All right. We'll keep him here for now. Did he tell you why he's here?"
"No. Actually, he didn't say anything at all." I open my eyes to see them drinking coffee in the doorway. "Good morning," he says coolly.
"Good morning," I manage softly. Scully frowns at me, and I realize I'm still shaking. Damn. I just can't stop.
"Mulder, I want to check him out. He might be sick." She hands him her coffee cup and walks over to me. "Sit up." I do. "Take off your shirt." I do that too. I hear him draw in his breath sharply. She merely sets her mouth in a tight line before she examines my cuts and bruises. It takes a while because there are so many. She bandages the worst of the cuts. "I want you to stay in bed today. There's no reason you should be up and about." I nod my head.
"Do you want anything? There are donuts and I can make more coffee."
"Do you have any tea?" It seems as though it's been years since I last spoke. I can barely bring my voice above a whisper.
"I'll look."
"Bring him some of the donuts. He needs to gain some weight." Scully uses her doctor voice and he nods and leaves. "What happened to you?" I look away so she won't see the pain in my eyes.
"He didn't do any of it, if that's what you want to know."
"That's not what I was asking." But she looks somewhat relieved. I eat the donuts and drink the tea. They leave the room and I drift off to sleep, hearing the murmur of their voices. I awake later to use the bathroom. And again in the afternoon. They wake me up for dinner and I pad into the kitchen to eat Chinese take-out with them. I return to bed and to sleep and when I awake again, it's morning and I can smell coffee. When I open my eyes, I see him sitting in a chair, a file in his lap, with his feet propped up on the bed. He's turning pages with one hand and holding his coffee with the other. He looks at me over his glasses. I wonder if he has any idea what he looks like when he does that.
"Take a shower and get dressed. We can talk over breakfast. I assume you know where everything is." He looks at me speculatively before he rises and leaves. I am curled under the covers, trying, still, to get warm. It was meant to hurt, but he's right. I do know where everything is. I find a pair of black jeans and a soft denim shirt. When I walk into the kitchen, I find Mulder and Scully cooking breakfast. The idea of Mulder cooking is so absurd I almost laugh.
"So, Krycek," it's Scully, not Mulder, who begins the questions, "why are you here?" I don't answer, then, suddenly, I realize that I spent all of yesterday in bed. I look at the clock.
"Mulder, can I use your phone to make an overseas phone call?" He looks doubtful. "Please. It's important." I see them exchange looks and he finally acquiesces. I dial the familiar number. When Mikhail answers, I talk with him briefly. I stick to Russian. I don't want Mulder and Scully to hear this. Mikhail is relieved that I am still alive. I tell him that I am too. Finally, I ask to speak to Nicky. He is so glad to talk to me. He chatters about his school life, and I delight in the sound of his voice and the beautiful mixture of Russian and English he uses.
"
[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<do [...] her?>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.]
Title: London Rain
Author: Ruth Sadelle Alderson
Rating: FRAO for m/m sex, but only after the plot. ;)
Spoilers: No. Although Krycek has two arms.
Keywords: Mulder/Krycek, slash
Disclaimer: Mulder and Krycek don't belong to me. Neither do Scully or Skinner, but I'm not as upset about that. "London Rain" isn't mine either.
Summary: Krycek comes home
Author's Note: Yes, it's songfic. Yes, I know that is universally frowned upon, but the song was just too good to pass up.
<lj-cut text="London Rain">****
Nothing falls like London Rain
Nothing heals me like you do
I'm coming home to you
****
I stand in Heathrow, staring out the window at the rain while I wait for my flight to be called. Nicky is safe. Natalya is dead. I'm tired. And cold. And I am going home. I have been battered and bruised and I'm not sure I can make it, but the thought of that voice and those beautiful hazel eyes remind me that I have to. I have to get home. Home. I remember when that word didn't mean anything to me. Before I took that job. The one to watch the FBI's most unwanted. It all changed the first time I saw him, saw that intense concentration mixed with that unbelievable beauty. Finally my flight is called and I head toward the boarding line with one final glance at the rain.
****
I can't wait to get home to you
to get warm and undressed
****
I knock on his door. I have a key from when we were partners, but I don't use it. I could also break in, but I don't do that either. I don't want this to happen that way. His face is surprised as he opens the door, but the surprise quickly turns to anger.
"What do you want, Krycek?" His voice is tight with hatred, but he's also curious. I hold up my hands to show him that I won't shoot him. I walk past him slowly and stop, allowing him to close the door and run his hands over me to find that I'm completely unarmed. When his hands touch me, I start to thaw, just a bit. "What do you want?" he repeats when he's sure I'm not there to kill him. Before I can answer, he seems to notice my condition. The stubble and the dirt and the clothes that feel as if they'll never be clean. He sighs, then heads for his bedroom. I follow, curious. He rummages around, then tosses me some clothes. "Take a shower, shave, change," he orders. He finds me a toothbrush, and I do as he says. The shower makes me feel a little warmer, but there's still a cold that won't thaw. As I dress in his boxers and shirt, I realize I'm shaking and I can't stop. I try, but I still shake. I'm also so tired I can barely stand. I emerge from the bathroom and he's standing there, watching me shake. He sighs. "Come on. You can sleep in the bedroom. I always sleep on the couch anyway." I curl under the covers and he turns to leave. My heart breaks. There was a time when he would have stayed if I asked him. I know he won't now, so I don't ask, but some small sound must have given me away, because he turns and looks at me for a moment before leaving. I can hear his footsteps as I fall asleep.
I awake to the sound of his voice and realize he must be in the other room, talking to Scully. His partner. Once, it might have been me. I fade back into sleep.
****
So keep me in your bed all day
Nothing heals me like you do
****
I awake, in the morning, to voices. She's there. Scully. Talking to him. The way they always talk. As if nothing matters but what they are discussing. They're talking about me.
"Scully, he's not going to hurt anyone or go anywhere. At least, not yet. He was so tired, he could barely walk. And Scully, he was shaking."
"All right. We'll keep him here for now. Did he tell you why he's here?"
"No. Actually, he didn't say anything at all." I open my eyes to see them drinking coffee in the doorway. "Good morning," he says coolly.
"Good morning," I manage softly. Scully frowns at me, and I realize I'm still shaking. Damn. I just can't stop.
"Mulder, I want to check him out. He might be sick." She hands him her coffee cup and walks over to me. "Sit up." I do. "Take off your shirt." I do that too. I hear him draw in his breath sharply. She merely sets her mouth in a tight line before she examines my cuts and bruises. It takes a while because there are so many. She bandages the worst of the cuts. "I want you to stay in bed today. There's no reason you should be up and about." I nod my head.
"Do you want anything? There are donuts and I can make more coffee."
"Do you have any tea?" It seems as though it's been years since I last spoke. I can barely bring my voice above a whisper.
"I'll look."
"Bring him some of the donuts. He needs to gain some weight." Scully uses her doctor voice and he nods and leaves. "What happened to you?" I look away so she won't see the pain in my eyes.
"He didn't do any of it, if that's what you want to know."
"That's not what I was asking." But she looks somewhat relieved. I eat the donuts and drink the tea. They leave the room and I drift off to sleep, hearing the murmur of their voices. I awake later to use the bathroom. And again in the afternoon. They wake me up for dinner and I pad into the kitchen to eat Chinese take-out with them. I return to bed and to sleep and when I awake again, it's morning and I can smell coffee. When I open my eyes, I see him sitting in a chair, a file in his lap, with his feet propped up on the bed. He's turning pages with one hand and holding his coffee with the other. He looks at me over his glasses. I wonder if he has any idea what he looks like when he does that.
"Take a shower and get dressed. We can talk over breakfast. I assume you know where everything is." He looks at me speculatively before he rises and leaves. I am curled under the covers, trying, still, to get warm. It was meant to hurt, but he's right. I do know where everything is. I find a pair of black jeans and a soft denim shirt. When I walk into the kitchen, I find Mulder and Scully cooking breakfast. The idea of Mulder cooking is so absurd I almost laugh.
"So, Krycek," it's Scully, not Mulder, who begins the questions, "why are you here?" I don't answer, then, suddenly, I realize that I spent all of yesterday in bed. I look at the clock.
"Mulder, can I use your phone to make an overseas phone call?" He looks doubtful. "Please. It's important." I see them exchange looks and he finally acquiesces. I dial the familiar number. When Mikhail answers, I talk with him briefly. I stick to Russian. I don't want Mulder and Scully to hear this. Mikhail is relieved that I am still alive. I tell him that I am too. Finally, I ask to speak to Nicky. He is so glad to talk to me. He chatters about his school life, and I delight in the sound of his voice and the beautiful mixture of Russian and English he uses.
"<Do you miss her?>" he asks.
"<All the time,>" I tell him. I switch to English because I need Mulder and Scully to hear this. "Listen, Nicky, if anything happens I want you to call me here." I give him Mulder's number. "If I'm not here, you can talk to a man named Fox Mulder. You can trust him." I give him Mulder's address before switching back into Russian. "<I love you,>" I tell him.
"<I love you too.>" We say good-bye. Mulder is looking at me angrily.
"I think you owe us some explanations, Krycek," he begins. "If this Nicky shows up to beat me up, I'm going to kill you." I start to laugh and I have to sit down to catch my breath. Scully raises an eyebrow.
"Nicky is nine years old," I say. A smile crosses her face and Mulder looks confused.
"Well, then why are you giving my address to a nine year old in Russia?" he asks.
"He's my son," I say simply. They both look shocked. "I'll tell you about it if I can eat while I do it." We sit down to breakfast and I explain. I manage to do it without crying, but just barely. I tell them about Natalya, my beautiful wife, and our son, Nicky. I tell them about Natalya's murder and feel relief, again, that Nicky wasn't home then. "At least Nicky's safe," I conclude, noticing that I am shaking again. I wonder if it will ever stop. "I made sure of that before I left Russia."
"How can you be sure?" he asks me. I raise my eyebrows.
"He's in a school run by former KGB agents who are friends of mine. If he isn't safe there, he'll never be safe anywhere." They accept my explanation although Mulder looks as though someone told him there is no Santa Claus. That's how shocked he is. Then Scully asks the one question I don't want to answer.
"So why did you come here?" I just shrug and get up to put my plate away. She sighs. "Mulder, we should go to work. Skinner's going to get suspicious."
"We can't just leave him here alone."
"I won't go anywhere," I say. "And I'll be good. I promise." Scully agrees with me and they leave for work. I wander around a bit, resisting the urge to go through his things, to immerse myself in his essence. On his bookshelves, there are real movies, not his usual porn. Maybe somebody gave them to him. I look at the titles and think that he must have bought them himself. _The Princess Bride._ _The Fifth Element._ _Contact._ I take the last off the shelf and sit on his couch to watch it. His couch. Where he sleeps. I tell myself to stop that and soon I'm engrossed in the movie. I understand it. The search for the truth. The need to be on even ground with one you love. No wonder he has this movie. When the movie is over, I return to the bookshelves. It has been so long since I read a book. I pull _Remake_ off the shelf and I've finished that and am halfway through _Bellwether_ when they arrive with dinner. I hear them, but I don't get up to greet them. I stay where I am, sprawled across the couch. Scully looks a bit surprised that I'm still there and Mulder draws in his breath as he sees me.
"I never pegged you for a Connie Willis fan," he comments when he sees what I'm reading.
"I like it," I say. I like the chaos and the order and the uncertain fantasy. Somehow, it reminds me of him. But I don't tell him that. We eat and Scully goes home.
****
And when I'm home, curled in your arms
And I'm safe again
I'll close my eyes and sleep
Nothing heals me like you do
****
I go to bed. But now that I'm not exhausted, I dream. I see again the scene where Natalya was killed. Suddenly, I feel warmer and I know even before he speaks.
"Krycek," I hear. "Krycek." He tries again. "Alex." The gentleness is enough to calm me for a moment. I open my eyes. He has turned on the light and is kneeling with one hand on my shoulder. "You were having a nightmare."
"Yeah, I know." My voice comes out raw. A look of compassion flashes across his face. He struggles to look neutral, but his eyes give him away. He's worried about me. I'm still shaking.
"Are you okay?" He looks concerned again.
"Yeah, I'm okay." He stands up to leave. "Wait!" I cry out reflexively. He turns to me. "Don't leave. Please." He hesitates, but he can't resist the tone of my voice. He's good. He won't leave anyone to suffer, not even me. He walks around the bed and gets in, under the covers. He reaches across me to turn off the lamp, then settles in behind me, one arm curving around to hold me. I'm getting warm, but I'm still shaking.
"What is it?" he asks. He smoothes my hair back. "Why can't you stop shaking? Why did you come here? What happened to you, Alex?" I can't help it. I turn over and bury my head in his shoulder. He tenses for a moment, then relaxes and pulls me closer. I'm crying. Silent tears that I can't stop and I know he can feel the moisture through his t-shirt. "It's okay, Alex. You're safe," he murmurs and I'm sobbing hard enough to shake both of us. I keep sobbing until I feel as if I'm empty. He hasn't stopped holding me, comforting me, and when I stop, he doesn't leave. I settle closer into his arms and drift off into sleep.
I wake up to see Scully leaning in the doorway. I feel different and realize that I've stopped shaking. And I'm warm. I sit up and stretch.
"Sorry to steal your partner, Scully. I had a nightmare." She just looks at me, then turns her attention to Mulder.
"Get dressed. I want to see how he's healing." Mulder obeys her after they have one of those private conversations they hold with their eyes. I wonder what they decided. She looks into my eyes as she walks over to me and gestures for me to pull off my shirt. "Why did you come here, Krycek?" I drop my eyes so she won't see the truth, but I think she already knows. She sighs and checks my wounds. When Mulder reenters the room, she tells him that I'm fine and healing nicely.
"Well, let's get to work, then. I'll see you this evening, Alex." If Scully notices his use of my first name, it doesn't show. "There should be some food around. I left some money for you on the table, so you can get something else if you want. And you might want to get some clothes unless you plan on wearing mine forever." There is a teasing exasperation in his voice. "Just be careful."
"I will." After they've left, I get up, shower, dress. I feel good. Relaxed. Warm. Steady. As if I can think again. He is like a drug that balances my mind, my body, my soul. I look around the kitchen and decide the first thing I need is a decent cup of tea. I remember a coffee shop a few blocks away. I take the money off the table and rummage through his closet for a jacket before leaving. After I've had the tea, I feel calmer. I go to the grocery store for my own tea. I buy myself some clothes, but decide not to buy very many because I like wearing his clothes. It feels almost as though he's wrapped around me. I return to his apartment and put the change on the table. I read the rest of _Remake_ and start in on _An Acceptable Time._ They come into the apartment arguing comfortably about their case. Mulder looks a bit surprised to see me still here, but Scully accepts it.
"Here. I got these for you." He hands them to me. _Impossible Things_ and _A Live Coal in the Sea._ I feel the tears rise in my eyes and look down, tracing my fingers over the cover of one of the books.
"Thank you." It's so soft that I don't know if he even heard it, but he sits next to me and pulls my chin up until he's looking into my eyes, into my soul.
"What is it? What's the matter, Alex?" The concern and tenderness are back in his voice. It seems as if he has forgotten Scully's presence.
****
And when somebody knows you well
Well, there's no comfort like that
****
"It's just--" I pause. "It's been so long since anyone--" Understanding floods his face and he pulls me to him. I'm cradled in his arms again. I'm safe and warm. I feel the look he trades with Scully. I know what it looks like. It's that fierce, tender, protective look he always has when she's in danger. Finally I pull away from him and go to the bathroom to splash water on my face. When I return Scully is sitting on the couch. "Where's Mulder?" I ask.
"I sent him to get dinner." She stares at me, then gestures for me to sit down. I do. "Why are you here?" This time, she asks gently and because she already knows I answer.
"When I left Russia, I was so hurt and I knew I just had to come home." I hadn't meant to say home. I'd meant to say here, but it's out now and I can't take it back.
"You love him." It's a statement, not a question.
"Yeah, I do," I answer softly.
"If you hurt him, I'll kill you slowly and painfully. I'm a doctor. I know how." I smile because I know that things are okay with Scully. Now I just have to make them okay with Mulder. He brings in sandwiches and we eat. The two of them are still bickering about their case, trading ideas across the table. I'm jealous of their easy intimacy. We sit on the couch and find _Ed Wood_ playing on some cable station so we watch it. Scully leaves and Mulder tells me it's time for me to go to bed because I'm still not quite well.
"Are you going to come with me?"
He looks away from me before he answers. "No." I change and brush my teeth like a good boy and go to bed, but it doesn't matter. I can't sleep. I get up and go into the other room. He's working on the computer, but he looks up as I enter.
"I couldn't sleep," I explain. I settle onto the couch with _An Acceptable Time._ I finish it and stretch out on the couch, relishing the sound of his typing and the feeling of safety his presence always conveys. I'm drifting off when he shakes me.
"Come on. You're not sleeping on my couch." He sounds exasperated, but there is none of the hatred that used to color our encounters. He leads me to the bed. I crawl in.
"Please don't leave. I won't be able to sleep." I tell him the truth because I feel that I owe him that. After an internal debate, he agrees and slides into bed with me. I fall asleep. I wake up in the morning and look at the clock. I almost wake him up before I remember that it's Saturday and he doesn't have to go to work. I turn and watch him sleep. He's so beautiful. Peaceful. I stop when my hand is an inch away from his face. I don't want to wake him. Not yet. But the temptation is too much. I run a finger along his eyebrows, tracing them. I touch his forehead, his cheeks, his chin. I lean down to kiss him. His lips taste as wonderful as they look. I pull back and see his eyes looking into mine. I freeze as he watches me. We look at each other for a moment, then he pulls my face down to his and suddenly he's kissing me and all I can feel, all I can think about, is the touch of his lips on mine. His are lips that could make a man go insane, or pull himself back together.
I don't know how, but he's managed to get our clothes off while we were kissing. He lies on top of me and I can feel him, everywhere. His skin burns into mine and I think that my nerves will short out. He starts to move, to touch and kiss his way down my body and now I'm sure my senses really will overload. I pull him up for another heavenly kiss before I start to touch him. He's lying on me, so I can't reach all of him, but I stroke and touch every inch of skin I can reach.
"I want to feel you in me," I manage to gasp out. He reaches into the drawer at our side, then moves so he can reach me. I feel his fingers sliding gently into me. He twists them and I writhe, trying to get more of his touch, more of the feel of his skin, his fingers. He chuckles gently. I thrust up towards him, but he thwarts me, moving back just a bit. He pulls his fingers out of me and I whimper at the loss. Suddenly he's in me and lying across my body and I can feel him across every piece of my skin. He leans down to kiss me. My senses are full of him, his scent, the feel of his skin on mine, his beautiful hazel eyes that give everything away, the sound of his soft sighs of pleasure, the taste of his mouth. He starts to move. I feel as if I am finally home and I know that everything will be okay. Tears start in my eyes and he kisses them away as they slide down my cheeks. He leans down and kisses me and colors swirl and explode behind my eyelids. I hear him say my name, softly, gently.
He gets up and I almost cry out at his absence. He returns a moment later with a washcloth. He cleans us both off, then returns to pull me into his arms and back under the covers. He kisses me, a deep, gentle, reassuring kiss.
"I love you," I whisper as I drift off to sleep. I wonder if he heard me. I want to tell him again, but I can't because I'm already asleep.
**********
The End.
**********
Author: Ruth Sadelle Alderson
Rating: FRAO for m/m sex, but only after the plot. ;)
Spoilers: No. Although Krycek has two arms.
Keywords: Mulder/Krycek, slash
Disclaimer: Mulder and Krycek don't belong to me. Neither do Scully or Skinner, but I'm not as upset about that. "London Rain" isn't mine either.
Summary: Krycek comes home
Author's Note: Yes, it's songfic. Yes, I know that is universally frowned upon, but the song was just too good to pass up.
<lj-cut text="London Rain">****
Nothing falls like London Rain
Nothing heals me like you do
I'm coming home to you
****
I stand in Heathrow, staring out the window at the rain while I wait for my flight to be called. Nicky is safe. Natalya is dead. I'm tired. And cold. And I am going home. I have been battered and bruised and I'm not sure I can make it, but the thought of that voice and those beautiful hazel eyes remind me that I have to. I have to get home. Home. I remember when that word didn't mean anything to me. Before I took that job. The one to watch the FBI's most unwanted. It all changed the first time I saw him, saw that intense concentration mixed with that unbelievable beauty. Finally my flight is called and I head toward the boarding line with one final glance at the rain.
****
I can't wait to get home to you
to get warm and undressed
****
I knock on his door. I have a key from when we were partners, but I don't use it. I could also break in, but I don't do that either. I don't want this to happen that way. His face is surprised as he opens the door, but the surprise quickly turns to anger.
"What do you want, Krycek?" His voice is tight with hatred, but he's also curious. I hold up my hands to show him that I won't shoot him. I walk past him slowly and stop, allowing him to close the door and run his hands over me to find that I'm completely unarmed. When his hands touch me, I start to thaw, just a bit. "What do you want?" he repeats when he's sure I'm not there to kill him. Before I can answer, he seems to notice my condition. The stubble and the dirt and the clothes that feel as if they'll never be clean. He sighs, then heads for his bedroom. I follow, curious. He rummages around, then tosses me some clothes. "Take a shower, shave, change," he orders. He finds me a toothbrush, and I do as he says. The shower makes me feel a little warmer, but there's still a cold that won't thaw. As I dress in his boxers and shirt, I realize I'm shaking and I can't stop. I try, but I still shake. I'm also so tired I can barely stand. I emerge from the bathroom and he's standing there, watching me shake. He sighs. "Come on. You can sleep in the bedroom. I always sleep on the couch anyway." I curl under the covers and he turns to leave. My heart breaks. There was a time when he would have stayed if I asked him. I know he won't now, so I don't ask, but some small sound must have given me away, because he turns and looks at me for a moment before leaving. I can hear his footsteps as I fall asleep.
I awake to the sound of his voice and realize he must be in the other room, talking to Scully. His partner. Once, it might have been me. I fade back into sleep.
****
So keep me in your bed all day
Nothing heals me like you do
****
I awake, in the morning, to voices. She's there. Scully. Talking to him. The way they always talk. As if nothing matters but what they are discussing. They're talking about me.
"Scully, he's not going to hurt anyone or go anywhere. At least, not yet. He was so tired, he could barely walk. And Scully, he was shaking."
"All right. We'll keep him here for now. Did he tell you why he's here?"
"No. Actually, he didn't say anything at all." I open my eyes to see them drinking coffee in the doorway. "Good morning," he says coolly.
"Good morning," I manage softly. Scully frowns at me, and I realize I'm still shaking. Damn. I just can't stop.
"Mulder, I want to check him out. He might be sick." She hands him her coffee cup and walks over to me. "Sit up." I do. "Take off your shirt." I do that too. I hear him draw in his breath sharply. She merely sets her mouth in a tight line before she examines my cuts and bruises. It takes a while because there are so many. She bandages the worst of the cuts. "I want you to stay in bed today. There's no reason you should be up and about." I nod my head.
"Do you want anything? There are donuts and I can make more coffee."
"Do you have any tea?" It seems as though it's been years since I last spoke. I can barely bring my voice above a whisper.
"I'll look."
"Bring him some of the donuts. He needs to gain some weight." Scully uses her doctor voice and he nods and leaves. "What happened to you?" I look away so she won't see the pain in my eyes.
"He didn't do any of it, if that's what you want to know."
"That's not what I was asking." But she looks somewhat relieved. I eat the donuts and drink the tea. They leave the room and I drift off to sleep, hearing the murmur of their voices. I awake later to use the bathroom. And again in the afternoon. They wake me up for dinner and I pad into the kitchen to eat Chinese take-out with them. I return to bed and to sleep and when I awake again, it's morning and I can smell coffee. When I open my eyes, I see him sitting in a chair, a file in his lap, with his feet propped up on the bed. He's turning pages with one hand and holding his coffee with the other. He looks at me over his glasses. I wonder if he has any idea what he looks like when he does that.
"Take a shower and get dressed. We can talk over breakfast. I assume you know where everything is." He looks at me speculatively before he rises and leaves. I am curled under the covers, trying, still, to get warm. It was meant to hurt, but he's right. I do know where everything is. I find a pair of black jeans and a soft denim shirt. When I walk into the kitchen, I find Mulder and Scully cooking breakfast. The idea of Mulder cooking is so absurd I almost laugh.
"So, Krycek," it's Scully, not Mulder, who begins the questions, "why are you here?" I don't answer, then, suddenly, I realize that I spent all of yesterday in bed. I look at the clock.
"Mulder, can I use your phone to make an overseas phone call?" He looks doubtful. "Please. It's important." I see them exchange looks and he finally acquiesces. I dial the familiar number. When Mikhail answers, I talk with him briefly. I stick to Russian. I don't want Mulder and Scully to hear this. Mikhail is relieved that I am still alive. I tell him that I am too. Finally, I ask to speak to Nicky. He is so glad to talk to me. He chatters about his school life, and I delight in the sound of his voice and the beautiful mixture of Russian and English he uses.
"<Do you miss her?>" he asks.
"<All the time,>" I tell him. I switch to English because I need Mulder and Scully to hear this. "Listen, Nicky, if anything happens I want you to call me here." I give him Mulder's number. "If I'm not here, you can talk to a man named Fox Mulder. You can trust him." I give him Mulder's address before switching back into Russian. "<I love you,>" I tell him.
"<I love you too.>" We say good-bye. Mulder is looking at me angrily.
"I think you owe us some explanations, Krycek," he begins. "If this Nicky shows up to beat me up, I'm going to kill you." I start to laugh and I have to sit down to catch my breath. Scully raises an eyebrow.
"Nicky is nine years old," I say. A smile crosses her face and Mulder looks confused.
"Well, then why are you giving my address to a nine year old in Russia?" he asks.
"He's my son," I say simply. They both look shocked. "I'll tell you about it if I can eat while I do it." We sit down to breakfast and I explain. I manage to do it without crying, but just barely. I tell them about Natalya, my beautiful wife, and our son, Nicky. I tell them about Natalya's murder and feel relief, again, that Nicky wasn't home then. "At least Nicky's safe," I conclude, noticing that I am shaking again. I wonder if it will ever stop. "I made sure of that before I left Russia."
"How can you be sure?" he asks me. I raise my eyebrows.
"He's in a school run by former KGB agents who are friends of mine. If he isn't safe there, he'll never be safe anywhere." They accept my explanation although Mulder looks as though someone told him there is no Santa Claus. That's how shocked he is. Then Scully asks the one question I don't want to answer.
"So why did you come here?" I just shrug and get up to put my plate away. She sighs. "Mulder, we should go to work. Skinner's going to get suspicious."
"We can't just leave him here alone."
"I won't go anywhere," I say. "And I'll be good. I promise." Scully agrees with me and they leave for work. I wander around a bit, resisting the urge to go through his things, to immerse myself in his essence. On his bookshelves, there are real movies, not his usual porn. Maybe somebody gave them to him. I look at the titles and think that he must have bought them himself. _The Princess Bride._ _The Fifth Element._ _Contact._ I take the last off the shelf and sit on his couch to watch it. His couch. Where he sleeps. I tell myself to stop that and soon I'm engrossed in the movie. I understand it. The search for the truth. The need to be on even ground with one you love. No wonder he has this movie. When the movie is over, I return to the bookshelves. It has been so long since I read a book. I pull _Remake_ off the shelf and I've finished that and am halfway through _Bellwether_ when they arrive with dinner. I hear them, but I don't get up to greet them. I stay where I am, sprawled across the couch. Scully looks a bit surprised that I'm still there and Mulder draws in his breath as he sees me.
"I never pegged you for a Connie Willis fan," he comments when he sees what I'm reading.
"I like it," I say. I like the chaos and the order and the uncertain fantasy. Somehow, it reminds me of him. But I don't tell him that. We eat and Scully goes home.
****
And when I'm home, curled in your arms
And I'm safe again
I'll close my eyes and sleep
Nothing heals me like you do
****
I go to bed. But now that I'm not exhausted, I dream. I see again the scene where Natalya was killed. Suddenly, I feel warmer and I know even before he speaks.
"Krycek," I hear. "Krycek." He tries again. "Alex." The gentleness is enough to calm me for a moment. I open my eyes. He has turned on the light and is kneeling with one hand on my shoulder. "You were having a nightmare."
"Yeah, I know." My voice comes out raw. A look of compassion flashes across his face. He struggles to look neutral, but his eyes give him away. He's worried about me. I'm still shaking.
"Are you okay?" He looks concerned again.
"Yeah, I'm okay." He stands up to leave. "Wait!" I cry out reflexively. He turns to me. "Don't leave. Please." He hesitates, but he can't resist the tone of my voice. He's good. He won't leave anyone to suffer, not even me. He walks around the bed and gets in, under the covers. He reaches across me to turn off the lamp, then settles in behind me, one arm curving around to hold me. I'm getting warm, but I'm still shaking.
"What is it?" he asks. He smoothes my hair back. "Why can't you stop shaking? Why did you come here? What happened to you, Alex?" I can't help it. I turn over and bury my head in his shoulder. He tenses for a moment, then relaxes and pulls me closer. I'm crying. Silent tears that I can't stop and I know he can feel the moisture through his t-shirt. "It's okay, Alex. You're safe," he murmurs and I'm sobbing hard enough to shake both of us. I keep sobbing until I feel as if I'm empty. He hasn't stopped holding me, comforting me, and when I stop, he doesn't leave. I settle closer into his arms and drift off into sleep.
I wake up to see Scully leaning in the doorway. I feel different and realize that I've stopped shaking. And I'm warm. I sit up and stretch.
"Sorry to steal your partner, Scully. I had a nightmare." She just looks at me, then turns her attention to Mulder.
"Get dressed. I want to see how he's healing." Mulder obeys her after they have one of those private conversations they hold with their eyes. I wonder what they decided. She looks into my eyes as she walks over to me and gestures for me to pull off my shirt. "Why did you come here, Krycek?" I drop my eyes so she won't see the truth, but I think she already knows. She sighs and checks my wounds. When Mulder reenters the room, she tells him that I'm fine and healing nicely.
"Well, let's get to work, then. I'll see you this evening, Alex." If Scully notices his use of my first name, it doesn't show. "There should be some food around. I left some money for you on the table, so you can get something else if you want. And you might want to get some clothes unless you plan on wearing mine forever." There is a teasing exasperation in his voice. "Just be careful."
"I will." After they've left, I get up, shower, dress. I feel good. Relaxed. Warm. Steady. As if I can think again. He is like a drug that balances my mind, my body, my soul. I look around the kitchen and decide the first thing I need is a decent cup of tea. I remember a coffee shop a few blocks away. I take the money off the table and rummage through his closet for a jacket before leaving. After I've had the tea, I feel calmer. I go to the grocery store for my own tea. I buy myself some clothes, but decide not to buy very many because I like wearing his clothes. It feels almost as though he's wrapped around me. I return to his apartment and put the change on the table. I read the rest of _Remake_ and start in on _An Acceptable Time._ They come into the apartment arguing comfortably about their case. Mulder looks a bit surprised to see me still here, but Scully accepts it.
"Here. I got these for you." He hands them to me. _Impossible Things_ and _A Live Coal in the Sea._ I feel the tears rise in my eyes and look down, tracing my fingers over the cover of one of the books.
"Thank you." It's so soft that I don't know if he even heard it, but he sits next to me and pulls my chin up until he's looking into my eyes, into my soul.
"What is it? What's the matter, Alex?" The concern and tenderness are back in his voice. It seems as if he has forgotten Scully's presence.
****
And when somebody knows you well
Well, there's no comfort like that
****
"It's just--" I pause. "It's been so long since anyone--" Understanding floods his face and he pulls me to him. I'm cradled in his arms again. I'm safe and warm. I feel the look he trades with Scully. I know what it looks like. It's that fierce, tender, protective look he always has when she's in danger. Finally I pull away from him and go to the bathroom to splash water on my face. When I return Scully is sitting on the couch. "Where's Mulder?" I ask.
"I sent him to get dinner." She stares at me, then gestures for me to sit down. I do. "Why are you here?" This time, she asks gently and because she already knows I answer.
"When I left Russia, I was so hurt and I knew I just had to come home." I hadn't meant to say home. I'd meant to say here, but it's out now and I can't take it back.
"You love him." It's a statement, not a question.
"Yeah, I do," I answer softly.
"If you hurt him, I'll kill you slowly and painfully. I'm a doctor. I know how." I smile because I know that things are okay with Scully. Now I just have to make them okay with Mulder. He brings in sandwiches and we eat. The two of them are still bickering about their case, trading ideas across the table. I'm jealous of their easy intimacy. We sit on the couch and find _Ed Wood_ playing on some cable station so we watch it. Scully leaves and Mulder tells me it's time for me to go to bed because I'm still not quite well.
"Are you going to come with me?"
He looks away from me before he answers. "No." I change and brush my teeth like a good boy and go to bed, but it doesn't matter. I can't sleep. I get up and go into the other room. He's working on the computer, but he looks up as I enter.
"I couldn't sleep," I explain. I settle onto the couch with _An Acceptable Time._ I finish it and stretch out on the couch, relishing the sound of his typing and the feeling of safety his presence always conveys. I'm drifting off when he shakes me.
"Come on. You're not sleeping on my couch." He sounds exasperated, but there is none of the hatred that used to color our encounters. He leads me to the bed. I crawl in.
"Please don't leave. I won't be able to sleep." I tell him the truth because I feel that I owe him that. After an internal debate, he agrees and slides into bed with me. I fall asleep. I wake up in the morning and look at the clock. I almost wake him up before I remember that it's Saturday and he doesn't have to go to work. I turn and watch him sleep. He's so beautiful. Peaceful. I stop when my hand is an inch away from his face. I don't want to wake him. Not yet. But the temptation is too much. I run a finger along his eyebrows, tracing them. I touch his forehead, his cheeks, his chin. I lean down to kiss him. His lips taste as wonderful as they look. I pull back and see his eyes looking into mine. I freeze as he watches me. We look at each other for a moment, then he pulls my face down to his and suddenly he's kissing me and all I can feel, all I can think about, is the touch of his lips on mine. His are lips that could make a man go insane, or pull himself back together.
I don't know how, but he's managed to get our clothes off while we were kissing. He lies on top of me and I can feel him, everywhere. His skin burns into mine and I think that my nerves will short out. He starts to move, to touch and kiss his way down my body and now I'm sure my senses really will overload. I pull him up for another heavenly kiss before I start to touch him. He's lying on me, so I can't reach all of him, but I stroke and touch every inch of skin I can reach.
"I want to feel you in me," I manage to gasp out. He reaches into the drawer at our side, then moves so he can reach me. I feel his fingers sliding gently into me. He twists them and I writhe, trying to get more of his touch, more of the feel of his skin, his fingers. He chuckles gently. I thrust up towards him, but he thwarts me, moving back just a bit. He pulls his fingers out of me and I whimper at the loss. Suddenly he's in me and lying across my body and I can feel him across every piece of my skin. He leans down to kiss me. My senses are full of him, his scent, the feel of his skin on mine, his beautiful hazel eyes that give everything away, the sound of his soft sighs of pleasure, the taste of his mouth. He starts to move. I feel as if I am finally home and I know that everything will be okay. Tears start in my eyes and he kisses them away as they slide down my cheeks. He leans down and kisses me and colors swirl and explode behind my eyelids. I hear him say my name, softly, gently.
He gets up and I almost cry out at his absence. He returns a moment later with a washcloth. He cleans us both off, then returns to pull me into his arms and back under the covers. He kisses me, a deep, gentle, reassuring kiss.
"I love you," I whisper as I drift off to sleep. I wonder if he heard me. I want to tell him again, but I can't because I'm already asleep.
**********
The End.
**********