A Test

Part 1

Nightmares. Over the years, both Alex and Walter had been subjected to nightmares. It went with the territory. Most times, you’d wake up in the nick of time or just ride it out. Then there were other times...

Walter felt his lover stir in their large bed. He woke up to the sight of Alex in a silent scream, clutching a large knife in a white knuckle grip. Knowing that touching Alex right now, could be deadly or at the very least conducive to losing a few digits, Walter slowing eased himself out of their bed. He quickly got dressed then from across the room Walter called out to his mate.

“Alex, Alex, it’s time to wake up,” Walter said gently in a calm soothing tone.

Alex made no response. His eyes staring wildly at an unseen enemy, the knife in his hand, poised to strike.

“Alex, babe, it’s Walter. You’re safe. There’s no one here,” Walter tried to reassure his lover, unsuccessfully.

Alex remained silent, frozen in his torment. Walter would have to risk life and limb if he was to bring his lover out of his nightmare. Unless...

“Krycek! You son of a bitch, you drop that fucking knife before I drop it for you, boy!” Walter bellowed in his most fearsome assistant director’s growl that had been known to make green agents soil themselves and the most seasoned, twitch.

Imperceptively, Alex loosened his grip on his knife. He tried to swallow but his parched mouth made that almost impossible. Walter brought Alex a small cup of water from their bathroom.

“Alex, can you hear me?”

Alex nodded.

“I’m going to take the knife now.”

The fear returned to Alex’s face.

“Babe, it’s okay, you’re safe, there’s no one here but us. Let me take the knife and give you some water.” Alex appeared to understand. He allowed Walter to pry the knife out of his hand and replace it with the cup.

“Drink, small sips.” Alex obeyed. “Better?” Alex nodded.

Walter slowly eased himself back onto the bed, fitting himself behind his lover, enfolding his arms around Alex. “Can you tell me about it?” Walter felt Alex stiffen in his arms at his request. Walter didn’t push but he gently began to rub Alex’s arms.

“He’s alive,” Alex whispered hoarsely.

“Who’s alive?”

“The smoking man,” Alex replied with a tremor to his body unlike he had ever experienced. It was a rare thing that made Alex Krycek fearful. The ‘smoking man,’ was one of them.

“W-what makes you say so?” Walter stuttered.

“I saw him in my dream, feel him close. I can almost smell his fucking cigarettes.”

“That’s impossible, Alex, he’s dead. We all know he’s dead. Dead and buried. Blown to bits in a mountain cave and buried under the rubble.”

“Don’t you think I know that,” Alex spat with fury.

“Shh, he can’t hurt you. Even if it was remotely possible that he survived, it was a long time ago. He has no idea where we are. You’ve covered your tracks well,” Walter reassured Alex.

“Not well enough. He can find me if he wants to.” Alex sounded so defeated. “I should leave here; it’s me he wants. You’ll be safer if I’m gone. I’ll make it appear that I was never here.” Walter tightened his hug.

“You are not leaving me, boy,” Walter commanded. “Let me make that perfectly clear. You are not leaving me or the life we have made for ourselves. We will get through this together. There is no other option. Do we understand each other?”

Walter felt his lover nod his consent.

“Out loud, boy.” Walter gave Alex a squeeze. Even in his late fifties, Walter Skinner was one burly strong bear of a man.

“Yes, Walter, together,” Alex managed to say.

“And no more talk of leaving, your place is here.”

“My place is here, with you, Walter. Old smokey be damned.”

“Amen to that. Why don’t you take a shower while I change these sheets. We’ve perspired right through them.” That was Walter’s polite way of saying that Alex had sweat up a storm during his nightmare. He and the sheets stank.

“I am a little rank,” Alex agreed as he caught of whiff of himself. His pixy nose crinkled with disgust. Alex gave his lover a kiss then extricated himself from Walter’s big arms to shower. Walter began to strip down the bed, and wondered where the knife had gone.

A little while later a freshly showered Alex Krycek emerged from their en-suite bathroom, clad only in a towel, his jade green eyes flashing with renewed strength. Walter smiled. And then the phone rang.

“Skinner.”

“It’s Mulder, sir.”

“Mulder? How did you get this number?”

“You’re not that hard to find, sir. Besides, the Gunmen know where you are.” Walter sighed; he felt the muscles in the back of his neck tense up and the beginnings of a headache. He hadn’t felt like this since he had retired....since Mulder had retired and moved far, far away to live in relative obscurity.

“What do you want, Mulder? Is there a purpose to this call other than to aggravate my old ulcer?” Walter heard Mulder chuckle in that irritating monotone way of his.

“Yes, sir.” Mulder could not break the habit of calling the retired Assistant Director, and his old boss, sir. “I need to speak to him.” Walter’s head began to throb.

“Him?” Walter kept his cool even though his whole body was screaming for Alex to run.

“Yes, sir. I know he’s there.” Before Walter could stall for time, Mulder continued. “I’m not going to make trouble for him. And I know he’s been out there protecting us, in his own way. But something’s happened and he’s the only one I can talk to. Please, sir, I wouldn’t have called if I didn’t think it was important.”

Walter heard the plea in Mulder’s voice.

“Okay, hold on a moment.” Walter turned to hand the phone to Alex. What took the phone was not Walter’s lover, Alex. It was Krycek, dressed in black, from his t-shirt down to his boots and he was armed. Alex put the handset down and put the phone on speaker.

“Mulder, you’re on speaker,” Alex said.

“I understand. You had...,” Mulder began.

“A dream, yes. He’s...”

“Back. I feel it too. But he’s...”

“Dead. I know. How?”

“Not sure, but then we’ve all been...”

“Dead. Yes, we have. And come...”

“Back. I’m coming to...”

“You can’t. It’s not...”

“Safe, I know but it’s not safe to...”

“Stay. What about...”

“Scully is away on a convention. She took William and her mother.”

“She left you unsupervised?” Alex snarked with amusement.

“I have been known to behave myself.” Walter rolled his eyes as Alex snorted. “I don’t want to say more, this line isn’t secure.”

“Yes, it is,” Alex assured his old enemy and comrade.

“Not anymore. I disabled it.”

“You what! Mulder you’re a moron,” Alex yelled.

“Be that as it may. I found your little device and deactivated it.”

“Why, Mulder?”

“Because I’m not that man anymore. I don’t want to live like that.”

“But...”

“I know, stupid of me. Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the water...”

“The shark comes back. When do you leave?”

Walter stopped listening to the content of the conversation. Whatever he missed, Alex would fill him in on it later. What Walter did concentrate on was the cadence of the banter between his two former agents. How well they fell back into old patterns and the lives they once led. His agents squabbling amongst themselves, requiring a firm hand to guide them. The intricate plans and conspiracies that Walter had finally gotten out of his life, now threatened them again. His most serious problem of late was what to make for dinner or what color varnish to use on his latest wood piece. He had taken his peaceful life for granted and now it could all vanish in a blink of an eye.

The conversation was about to turn into an argument when retired AD Skinner stepped in.

“That’s enough, gentlemen! Mulder, make whatever arrangements you can; we’ll meet you at the airport. Krycek, it’s time we prepared ourselves and called in the Gunman.”

Both former agents replied with a quick, “Yes, sir.” Mulder cut the connection. Alex turned to leave the bedroom to go to their office and to his computer. Feeling a bit useless, Walter decided to make breakfast.

 

*****

Part 2

Byers turned the rusted old van onto the long dirt drive that would lead them to Walter’s front door. Frohike nervously scanned the vast countryside.

“Oh Felicia, where the fuck are we?” Frohike quipped, quoting a line from one of his favorite movies.

“You’ve waited a long time to be able to use that one,” Byers said dryly as he threw the gear shift into park.

“Hey, man, smell that fresh clean air!” Langly said with enthusiasm as he slid the van’s door open and jumped down.

“Smells like horse to me,” Frohike grumbled, happier if he was back amongst the city traffic. “Too quiet. I don’t like it. What if it’s a trap?” Byers rolled his eyes.

The Gunmen were getting older, too old to chase down alien conspirators. The Gunmen were thought to have died, and they preferred it that way. No one remembered them anymore. Their website lived on, still popular although thought to be owned and operated by other than the original Gunmen. No matter. It gave them freedom to keep their eyes and ears on the world without interference. And whoever was left that believed to know the truth, just didn’t care anymore.

Langly swaggered to the front door, prepared to knock, when an apparition dressed in black abruptly opened the door.

“Holy mother of...,” Langly exclaimed, jumping back, knocking into Byers and stomping on Frohike’s toe. The apparition began to giggle as he stepped aside. The Gunmen swore, grumbled and limped their way past the ghost and into the ranch house.

“Guys! I see you found the place,” Mulder greeted them cheerfully with hugs and slaps to the back.

“Gentlemen,” Walter stated sternly. “You must be tired after your long trip. Let me show you to your rooms so you can freshen up. Dinner will be ready at six, plenty of time to wash off the road.” Mulder watched Walter lead the Gunmen to the upper floor then he went to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee. The apparition in black faded back into the shadows.

Byers sighed gratefully. They had decided to drive the last hundred miles straight through. His back ached for a hot shower and a clean suit. Langly preferred to walk off his aches and pains in the yard while Frohike required a long ‘sit’ in the bathroom with his latest novel. The hour and half before dinner was most wisely put to good use.

“You didn’t have to scare them, you know. They’re here because you called them,” Mulder said, amused that Alex could still elicit such a reaction.

“I didn’t call them. I dialed and Walter spoke to them,” the apparition finally spoke.

“We need them, Krycek. Don’t go scaring them off. It may take all of us to figure out what this all means.”

“There’s nothing to figure out. The smoking man is alive and now he wants to exact his revenge.”

“No need for melodramatics, Alex,” Walter said as he came down the stairs and went to tend his dinner roasting in the oven. “I still believe that Spender is dead.”

“Then how do you explain our dream?” Alex demanded to know. Mulder wanted to know as well.

“How do I explain anything that goes on between the two of you? I gave up trying years ago. Whatever psychic connection you two have or claim to have does not include me. And for that I am eternally grateful.” Walter made himself busy at the stove stirring a pot of gravy.

“Sir, you almost sound jealous,” Mulder quipped.

“Perhaps I am,” Walter intoned with a twinge of envy. He was about to concentrate on slicing tomatoes for their salad when Alex intervened.

“Walter, let me,” Alex said softly with a timbre to his voice that was solely for his lover. Walter handed the knife to Alex.

Dinner was pleasant. Mulder smirked with much amusement as Frohike and Langly stared widely at Alex as he expertly carved their roast beef with surgical precision. Byers appeared to know that the ‘show’ was put on for his cohorts’ benefit. Walter ignored it.

“Lisa, Пожалуйста передайте соус." (Please pass the gravy.) Between Mulder’s rudimentary knowledge of Russian and Krycek’s imperceptible eye signal that no one but Mulder caught, Mulder picked up the gravy boat and handed it to Alex. Krycek made a feral smile and Mulder grinned. The Gunmen cringed with worry. Thoughts of conspiracies and plots filled their heads.

“Enough, you two. Like children you are, the pair of you. I don’t know who’s worse,” Walter growled, so not pleased with their behavior. “We have a job to do here?”

“Skinman, so far I fail to see a job,” Langly stated with a mouth full of brussel sprouts. Before Walter could reply, Byers calmly reiterated the same sentiments.

“All we have to go on is a shared dream that Mulder and Krycek claim to have experienced. We certainly have had no dreams nor, from what I gather, neither have you, Mr. Skinner. While I don’t disclaim what they shared I also don’t find a reason to make a pre-emptive strike on an unknown enemy.”

“This enemy is not unknown,” Mulder stated.

“Nor is he alive,” Byers continued. “Give me evidence to the contrary.”

And then the phone rang.

“Hello. Good evening, Emma. How are you? Yes, you’re right, we haven’t been in town lately. Been pre-occupied on a new piece. What? A package? No, I don’t think I ordered something but my memory isn’t as sharp as it once was. Now? But you’re closed. Oh, looks important. You’ll leave it out on the bench for me. That’s fine and thank you Emma. I’ll be there within the hour. Goodnight, Emma, and say hello to Bob for me.” Walter hung up the phone and turned to face his audience.

“That was Emma at the store.”

“We figured that one out, sir,” Mulder said as Krycek smacked him on the arm.

“Who is Emma?” Frohike asked.

“She runs the general store in town and is the post mistress,” Walter replied as he went to the door for his jacket. The keys for his truck were in the pocket. “She said an important looking package arrived so she’s leaving it outside the store for me. I’ll be back in about an hour. Mulder, try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone. And Alex, I’m leaving you with four people. Four very alive and intact people. See to it that I come home to them in the same condition.” Walter sighed with exasperation then left.

“So let me get this straight. This Emma person calls over here to say that an important package has arrived for the Skinman and then proceeds to leave it outside on the sidewalk where anyone can take it?” Frohike asked incredulously.

“It’s a small town. I doubt anyone is awake let alone out wandering about. The package will be there,” Alex said with confidence as he cleared the table and put on another pot of coffee.

“Easy with that stuff,” Mulder griped as Alex was filling the filter with coffee grinds. “I bet you can strip paint with that coffee.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my coffee. It’s good Russian coffee and for your information I’ve been making it weak for you pansies. I usually put in twice the amount.” Alex snarled. He took out a pie from the refrigerator to warm in the oven then he took out some home made vanilla ice cream from the freezer. The Gunmen watched Alex with fascination.

“Who knew the assassin had a domestic streak,” Langly commented. “And what’s with you, man? We’ve all gotten old...”

“Speak for yourself,” Mulder commented. He had fared better than most. The clock wasn’t turned back for him like it was for Alex but it had somehow been slowed.

“But he’s not natural, man,” Langly groused.

“Just because I’m in touch with my inner child, doesn’t mean I’m unnatural,” Alex growled then placed the warmed pie with ice cream on the table. It vanished in moments.

They sat in silence with satisfied full bellies and wondering what Skinner might be bringing home.

 

*****

Part 3

“This is it?” Alex asked as he stared at the small package in the middle of the dining room table.

“I don’t think it lives up to Emma’s description,” Mulder drawled.

“It’s certainly made the rounds,” Langly observed. “It started out from the Hoover building; it’s got that fibbie seal.” Langly pointed to the official FBI seal in the corner.

“Anyone can fake that, man,” Frohike snarked. “But he’s right about it making the rounds. It went to your old apartment first then redirected back to the Hoover.” The postmark was evidence to that.

“Must have gotten lost in the mailroom for some time. And it went through the interoffice mail system too,” Alex commented.

“What makes you say that?” Mulder queried.

“The envelope is an old one, they don’t use this brand anymore. And then there are the small marks on the back.” Mulder flipped the package over. “Each floor of the Hoover has its own mail substation. All the mail goes to the main room down in the basement where it’s sorted by floor for delivery. Once it’s sorted then it goes to the floor’s substation where it’s sorted by office. Each substation makes a mark. If the package or envelope is ignored then it goes to the next floor. The process is then repeated on each floor. If the package reached the top without anyone claiming it, it goes back to the basement. Looks like it made the rounds three times.”

Walter, Mulder and the Gunmen all stared at Alex, who shrugged then continued.

“It looks like someone finally bought a clue and checked the retired agents roster. Walter, you probably stumped the mailroom, no pun intended,” Alex quickly added as Mulder gave Alex’s left arm a glance. “You’re semi-retired. Probably made you more difficult to find. The package was finally correctly addressed.”

They all thought for a moment then Mulder made a suggestion.

“Shouldn’t you open it, sir?” Mulder asked. As Walter reached for the package, Alex quickly snatched it away.

“No! Let me. Better yet, why don’t I take this outside to open.” Alex grabbed the package then walked out the side door. Standing under a flood light, Alex examined the envelope. It was padded, the contents felt soft. Krycek leaned on the corral fence. Using his knife, he slit open the package. A pack of Morleys slid out and a letter fluttered to the ground. Alex began to laugh hysterically.

“What is it?” Walter called from the door. “Alex! Talk to me, boy!”

“It’s a test! A fucking test,” Alex cried out seemingly in pain. Walter was at his side in an instant. “The fucking bastard did this on purpose. It’s a wonder why we’re all still here, alive. That we haven’t all been taken out by a missile.” Alex thought he was losing his mind.

“Alex is right, sir,” Mulder stated almost too casually for any sane person to comprehend.

“Mulder, what in god’s name are you talking about?!” Walter shouted. He was crouched beside Alex who was sitting on the ground clutching the package and rocking himself. Walter snaked his arms around his lover. The Gunmen were at a loss for words.

“This was a test, a simple test of wills. He must have planned it to torture us.”

“Mulder that makes no sense,” Byers exclaimed. “Spender has been dead for years. How would he know that his little package here would reach Mr. Skinner at this time?”

“And what about your crazy dream?” asked Langly.

“The package was a coincidence, a convenient coincidence that it finally found its way here at the same time our dreams triggered our responses.”

“What responses? Mulder, you’re talking in riddles,” Walter growled as he finally got Alex to his feet and on his way back into the house. Frohike picked up the pack of Morleys and the letter.

“I suspect Krycek and I were subjected to a post hypnotic suggestion, sir. We both were under Spender’s influences many times. He had ample opportunity to plant a suggestion.”

“But why just a nightmare, why not the suggestion to kill one another?” Alex asked shaking in his lover’s arms.

“To prolong the torture, to see how we’d react. If he were alive now, Alex, what would you have done?”

“Hunt him down, kill him, slowly,” Alex sneered baring his teeth. Langly and Frohike took one step back.

“I think I understand,” Byers said reasonably. “Spender always believed he was protected, above the law of man, above the laws of nature. He made a pact with the devil, in this case, the aliens. He thought he’d be alive to watch this little tableau, to relish in the way we’d squirm. However, we’ve had the last laugh. We’re alive, we’ve passed the test of time and endurance. We’ve survived and have gone on with our lives. Maybe Spender believed a healer would bestow the same gift as Krycek received.”

“God forbid,” Walter muttered.

“Yes, Mr. Skinner, God forbid. But this does bring us to our next problem.”

“What problem is that, Byers?” Walter asked as he wiped his brow with a handkerchief. He made sure Alex was situated comfortably on the sofa then went into the kitchen to get several bottles of beer.

“We were never in Spender’s sphere of influence; however, all three of you have been. You said it yourself, Mulder. Spender had ample opportunity to plant several suggestions. The nightmare may be the tip of the iceberg.”

“You mean we may go through this again?” Alex almost shrieked. “No thank you, I’d rather eat my own gun.”

“As happy a thought that may be, it’s not an option,” Mulder said with much sarcasm.

“Mulder, you’re not helping,” Walter snarled.

“We’ll need to remove any post hypnotic suggestions that may be left,” Byers explained.

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Alex asked.

“Hypnosis. We put you all under to remove the suggestions. But there’s no guarantee it will work. And we have no way of knowing if we’ve gotten them all.”

“And we are at risk for triggering a new set,” Alex said softly.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Langly said.

“Alex is right. Spender would have developed a failsafe against anyone tampering with his weapons,” Mulder said dryly.

“Weapons?” Walter asked.

“We’ve all been manipulated to be Spender’s pawns one way or another. Mulder’s right. Which means we’ll never be free of the smoker.”

“We are free and we’ll be prepared for the next time,” Walter stated with a certain air of optimism. “Gentlemen, I think it’s time we gave it a rest for the night.”

Alex and Walter went about locking up the ranch and setting the alarms.

 

*****

Epilog

“Lisa, Lisa, приедьте и получите это, девочку," (Come and get it, girl.) Alex called out into the barn, he had a gift for their resident vixen.

The little fox peered around from the safety of her bale of hay then ventured out to receive her treat of a fresh chicken egg. Alex watched the little, pale red fox eat her egg then he left to join the others.

“You never cease to amaze me, Alex,” Mulder stated as Alex walked through the kitchen door with his basket of eggs.

“How so, Mulder?” Alex set the basket down near the sink. Reaching up for a large bowl and a towel, Alex began to wash the eggs.

“You’re happy.”

“Yes, I am. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing, I’m just glad I lived to see it. And you’ve made the old man happy too.”

“Don’t let Walter hear you call him old; he’ll have you cleaning up after the horses,” Alex chuckled.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I shoveled shit.”

“No Mulder, I don’t imagine it would be. There’s ham steaks in the refrigerator, take out a few, would ya?”

Mulder did as requested. “Alex, I never did see what the letter said before Walter packed it all up and gave it and the Morleys to the Gunmen to take home with them to analyze. What did the letter say?”

Alex began to crack open the eggs to scramble. He had two skillets on the stove, one for the ham, the other for the omelet he was preparing. He quickly turned and tossed an egg to Mulder. Mulder caught it without it breaking.

“Gotcha!”

-the end-

 

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