Gabriel
Chapter Twenty-One


En route to Helena
September 24, 2001
9:02 p.m.


Swimming up through the red-black waves of
unconsciousness, he first noticed the awful
taste of chili peppers in the back of his
throat.  The hum in his ears and the side-to-
side swaying of his body worked his fragile
equilibrium.  Eyes closed, he jerked his head
up, swallowing hard - he hated to be sick. 
Throwing up only seemed to make him feel worse. 
The smell, the immediate rush of sweat to his
pores, the weakness in his limbs... God he hated
it all, though Scully always told him it would
make him feel better if he just gave into the
nausea.

Scully.  Scully!

This time, he cried out at the piercing white
light that seemed to sear his aching head as his
eyes flew open.  Instantly, he squeezed them
shut, his yell making his head feel like it was
split open with an axe.  But he didn't care,
letting it loose with lightning fury.

"Krycek!  You motherfucker!"

He twisted against the ropes that tied him to
the chair, trying in vain to crack open his eyes
again.  Something sticky clung to his lashes and
the warm iron smell was his undoing as his
stomach heaved.  The cold bite of metal cupped
his chin as his dinner came up in horrid, acid-
laced bursts.

"You always were a pussy, Mulder."

Close enough.  Estimated forty-five degree swing
of his head to the left and...

"Shit!"

Gabriel opened his eyes in time to see Krycek
spring back, dots of tomato-red bile sprinkling
his pants.  He shoved the pail behind him, his
hiss dripping with venom.  "I ought to throw
this shit back in your face."

Gabriel's satisfied grin was cut short at the
approach of a huge shadow.  He jerked, preparing
to be the recipient of another blow, but this
hulk wasn't bent on getting any closer.  It
simply took the pail from Krycek's hand,
grimacing at the smell.  With a snarl, Gabriel
narrowed his eyes, uncaring if he *did* provoke
more violence.  Krycek wasn't the only lying
bastard in the room.  "You want some o'this too,
Jesse?"

"You're a total dick, you know that Gabe?" 
Jesse rolled his cigar between his grin, an
almost admiring glint in his eyes.

"Better than being Krycek's fuck buddy, don'tcha
think?"

Jesse's grin faded as he stepped forward.  "You
little prick -"

"Enough!"  Krycek's command stopped Jesse cold. 
"Take that away and get me a towel.  Now!"

One more menacing look, then Jesse disappeared
into the bathroom.  Silence reigned for a few
seconds as Krycek hovered, his mouth drawn into
a disgusted line as he brushed at his pants. 
Gabriel forced his wavy vision to focus; this
room was very much like Julia's.  Could she be
right next door?  He sighed, his will to fight
gone for a moment as concern for her returned in
a flash.

"Scully?" he whispered, hanging his head.  "Is
she okay?"

The sound of a flushing toilet and running water
almost drowned out Krycek's soft reply.  "I
don't know.  The doctor's in with her now." He
sounded apologetic and Gabriel almost spit at
him; it was Krycek's fault she'd had another
seizure.  Then again, he'd almost made the same
fatal mistake.  Another second and he would have
blurted out 'Mulder' just as Krycek had.

Lifting solemn eyes to the man he hated, he
said, "I want to see her."

A brittle laugh escaped Krycek and his teeth
gleamed white as his bearded face cracked into a
nasty smile.  "You're joking, right?"  Jesse
came back into the room, wet towel in hand. 
Krycek took it from him and wiped off the specks
of vomit, his eyebrow raised in a leer.  "I'd
say you've seen enough of her for one night,
Mulder."

"You -" He strained against his bonds amidst
Krycek's laughter.

"Or maybe we should just stick to Gabriel. 
Seems better for Julia that way.  In fact, I
could guarantee that your *total* cooperation
would benefit her.  Immensely."

*Could* guarantee.  It was obvious Gabriel
wasn't speaking to the man-in-charge, despite
Krycek's threat.  Changing tactics, he homed in
on the reason for this whole mess.  "Where's
your boss?"

"My boss?  I'm my own man, Mulder.  Don't you
know that by now?"

"You sell yourself to the highest bidder,
Krycek.  A whore of the worst kind."  He
realized now there was blood on his forehead; he
blinked away the warm trickle and grimaced.

"Every one is a whore, Mulder.  To money, to
sex, to love... to the truth."  He paused at
Gabriel's sudden silence.  "Even you.  You think
you're some kind of hero.  Jumping this train in
an effort to save her... face it, you don't care
about her.  You never did."

Gabriel's head snapped up, his bloody face
burning.  "That's a lie.  I came here only for
her."

"You came here because she was stolen from you,
like some valued toy.  Because she is part of
that always elusive 'truth' - something you've
wanted, but can never have."

Once upon a time, that may have been true.  He'd
always cared for Scully, but never let himself
give in to it.  The work was more important. 
All the times he'd pushed her to remember the
details of her abduction, prodded her to join
him on one false lead after another... he had
been selfish.  Until the day the aliens came for
him and the bees came for her... and proved to
them both that all they had was each other.  The
truth didn't matter anymore; the world had gone
to hell around them.  Sure, they'd made it out
of the tower alive, and she'd not given up on
the vaccine.  But though he let her fight for
the truth once again, his heart hadn't been in
it.  For once in his life, he was truly happy in
that bunker.  Simply because they were together.

He wanted that back.  Chin dropping, he didn't
even dignify Krycek's very old rhetoric with a
reply.  The truth had ceased to exist for him
long ago - it lived now in her, and only her.

Krycek threw the towel at Jesse and moved
closer, his fake arm swinging in his jacket
pocket as he bent to add, "You don't even know
what you've stumbled into here, do you?"

Though he knew it was useless to ask, he did
anyway, the bite of Krycek's assumptions eating
at his gut.  "Then tell me."  Not that he really
cared; he still vowed to stop this train, to
meet up with the Gunmen.  Now that he knew where
the chip was, its removal would guarantee their
safety from that moment on.  How he would
accomplish the delay, he didn't know yet.  It
was best to play along until then.

"All in good time," Krycek murmured, removing a
pistol from his pocket.  The barrel of the gun
trained on Gabriel, he nodded at Jesse.  "Cut
him loose."

"What?"  Jesse eyed Krycek with an incredulous
stare.

"You heard me.  Do it."  To Gabriel, he added,
"You're gonna be a good boy, aren't you?  I'd
hate for my wife to suffer because of your
undying need to play Superman."

As Jesse sliced through the ropes at his hands
and feet, Gabriel hissed, "She's not your wife."

"Who says?  You?  Her?  She's missing several
weeks of her life... who knows what she was up
to then?"

Krycek's baiting was nothing but lies, Gabriel
was sure of it.  But he didn't even nibble at
the lure, the rush of blood to his hands and
feet a welcome signal that he'd gained one thing
in the past few minutes - the ability to move. 
The first step toward ultimate freedom.

Jesse backed away, folding his knife as Gabriel
stood.  His wrists were red, but the skin wasn't
broken.  Rubbing at the itchy skin, he asked,
"What now?  After-dinner drinks and cigars? 
Maybe a game of poker?"

Krycek jerked his head at Jesse, silently moving
the man to the door of the bathroom.  "You'd
lose, Mulder.  You never could quite master the
art of bluffing."

That's what *you* think, Gabriel's mind growled.

With a snap of the gun, Krycek waved him over. 
"Clean up, Mulder.  You're a fucking mess. 
There are clothes for you in the bathroom."

Grabbing at his sagging shirt, Gabriel lifted
sneering eyes.  "What for?  You want me dressed
for my funeral before you kill me?"

"I'm not going to kill you.  Though a bullet in
the leg would seriously hamper your escape
efforts, now wouldn't it?"

Krycek wasn't a fool.  Gabriel knew his old
nemesis figured he'd still try something, he
just didn't know when and where.  "Escape?  But
why?  I have all the comforts of home on this
train, Krycek."

"Cut the bullshit, Mulder.  Just get in there. 
We have an appointment to keep."

"An appointment?"  Maybe he'd get to see his
father after all.  Wrestle the gun from Krycek,
make quick work of them all... his mind whirled
with new possibilities.  He walked to the
bathroom gingerly, his legs stiff as he spied
the clock by the bed.  9:30.  Still time to do
what he needed to do - maybe even more than he'd
thought possible when he got on this train. 
"Don't tell me - an impromptu barbecue in the
club car, right?"

Krycek snickered mirthlessly.  "Yeah, your balls
on a silver platter if you don't get moving.  Go
ahead, close the door.  Take a shower if you
want.  There's nothing in there for you to use.
Not even a razor.  Be my guest."  His voice
lowered.  "If you're not out in ten minutes,
you'll attend that barbecue with Jesse's knife
up your ass.  Got it?"

"Mmm... shish kabob.  Yummy."  Grinning snidely,
he shut the door behind him.

Immediately, he scanned the small room.  One
drawer under the sink - empty.  A small shower
cubicle and toilet.  Even the innards of the
tank were made of plastic, of no use at all as a
possible weapon.  Stilling, he saw the stack of
clothes folded in the corner.  Nothing there,
either, just a pair of black jeans and a heavy
black sweater.  At least he'd be warm.

"How nice," he muttered to the airless room. 
"Even socks and underwear."  He didn't remember
the last time he'd worn either.

Finally, he decided to take advantage of the
shower.  Shedding his worn, dirty clothes, he
glanced in the mirror over the sink.  Krycek had
dealt him a good blow; a purplish bruise was
already forming beneath the inch-long gash.  It
had stopped bleeding, but it was very tender to
his touch.  He was lucky they hadn't cracked his
skull wide open.

Quickly, he washed himself under the spray of
warm water.  Despite the unlucky turn of events,
he couldn't deny the water sluicing over his
skin felt good.  He rinsed out the taste of
vomit from his mouth, scrubbing at his teeth and
tongue with the washcloth as his mind worked.

So, it looked like he *was* going to meet the
boss man after all.  Funny how the meeting took
a back seat to his pressing concern for Scully. 
There wasn't much he could do now, but sudden
resolution made him rush to complete his
cleanup.  He wasn't going anywhere without at
least seeing if she was okay first.  Krycek
could fuck off.

Shutting the water off, he listened for a moment
through the shower door, but heard nothing other
than the low din of the two men outside.  He
couldn't hear what they were saying, but it
wasn't of any great importance.  As soon as he
could, he was going to stop this train.  All he
had to do was get the gun.  They'd do anything
he wanted if he held the old man at gunpoint.

Leaning in the opposite direction, he pressed
his hand to the shower wall.  She was just on
the other side, he felt it.  Hang on Scully, he
silently pleaded, lowering his aching forehead
to the wet tile.  I'm going to get us out.

A sharp knock made him jump upright.  "Two
minutes."

Gabriel wondered at their accommodation.  What
did they need him for?  Krycek could easily have
just thrown his sorry ass off the train. 
Something else was definitely afoot, and despite
his vow moments ago that he didn't care what
revelations awaited him in the meeting, he felt
a prick of curiosity.  Still, the fact that they
wanted him alive gave him the upper hand, no
matter how much Krycek threatened him.  For now,
anyway.  And he damn well was going to exercise
a bit of control over the situation.

He dressed quickly, almost forgetting the sketch
in his haste to exit the bathroom.  Picking up
his tattered shirt from the floor, he gently
transferred it to the pocket of his jeans, the
familiar feel of it reminding him of her. She
was close by and she needed him.  Nothing else
mattered at the moment.

With grim determination, he flung open the door. 
"I'm not going anywhere until I see her." 
Muscling his way past Jesse, he sat in the chair
once again and reached for his boot laces, tying
them quickly.  "You're gonna have to shoot me,
Krycek... because I'm walking out that door and
into hers."  He stood, hands fisted at his sides
as he held his breath.

For a few tense moments, Krycek stared him down,
Jesse fidgeting by his side.  Then, with a
chuckle, he cocked the gun.  "Who am I to stand
between lovers, eh?  I'm just the poor,
cuckolded husband."

"As you so eloquently put it - cut the bullshit,
Krycek.  And get the hell out of my way."

Jesse stepped in the tense space between Gabriel
and Krycek, fists raised.

"Stop."  Krycek's command halted the near
confrontation, but Jesse didn't back off. 
Gabriel stood firm as well, his jaw clenched in
the face of Jesse's human wall.  Krycek relented
with a snort.  "Guess it couldn't hurt.  A few
minutes, got it?  Nothing funny, either...
*Mulder*."

Krycek's bold use of his name told Gabriel he
wouldn't hesitate to use it against Julia again. 
Sidestepping an angry Jesse, he nodded.

His earlier assumption proved correct, as the
trip down the hall, sandwiched between Jesse's
bulk and Krycek's ready weapon, was a short one. 
They were still in the last car, Julia's door a
mere ten feet from Krycek's.  Nausea threatened
again, this time at the realization that it was
very possible Krycek had heard, if not their
conversation, then the rhythmic rocking of the
bed against the wall.

"Yeah, that's right," the whisper in his ear
confirmed as they stopped before Julia's door. 
"Who knew there was free porn on this trip?"

Ignoring Krycek, Gabriel pushed open the door. 
The room was still in semi-darkness, but his
gaze immediately picked up her small form
swathed in the sheets of the bed.  The sound of
running water from behind the bathroom door told
him the doctor was probably just finishing up. 
Good.  He could speak to the man before he left,
find out about these seizures of hers firsthand.

But before anything else, he had to touch her. 
Jesse grabbed his arm, but at Krycek's nod,
released him to approach the bed.  Julia laid
unmoving in the middle of the pillows and
Gabriel sat beside her, leaning over to touch
her face.  "Julia?"

God, she was pale, her face bloodless against
the white pillowcase, her limp hair damp from
the overexertion of her seizing body.  The only
sign of color was the plum red of her lips; they
looked as though they were slightly swollen. 
Had the doctor found it necessary to pry open
her mouth?  Surely they didn't do that anymore
for epileptics, did they?

Not caring that he had an audience, he swallowed
down the sadness at her exhausted appearance and
brought one trembling hand to her face.  His
mouth brushed the smooth expanse of her forehead
in a gentle kiss.  "Julia, wake up.  Please," he
whispered.  She smelled of panic and fear, and
his chest tightened with misery.

"Back off, Gabe."  Jesse's warning drifted over
his shoulder.

Gabriel's lips lost all heat as he touched them
to her clammy skin.  He sat up, reaching for the
blanket.  "She's cold.  And I'm staying until
she wakes up."  Tucking the blanket under her
chin, he took her hand in both of his, rubbing
it against his shower-warmed, stubbled cheek.

Krycek's voice broke into Jesse's soft curses. 
"No way -"

Another, more breathy voice cut him off.  "You
gents planning on keeping vigil?  Because she's
out for an hour, at least."

Gabriel turned, amazement dropping his jaw. 
This train was full of surprises.  Giving
Julia's hand one last kiss, he tucked it under
the blanket and stood.  "Kurtzweil?"

The doctor's face slashed into a grin and he
discarded the towel he was using to dry his
hands, stepping forward with an outstretched
hand.  "I've been informed that the name of the
day is Gabriel," he said softly, raising a brow
at the sleeping woman behind them.

Gabriel took the proffered hand, a dozen
questions fighting for freedom from his lips. 
"But... how?  I thought you were dead," seemed
like a good place to start.

Kurtzweil shook his hand heartily, his cheek
crinkling with the curl of his mouth.  "Not
dead, more like... semi-retired into private
practice. *Very* private."

"Enough.  We have to get going.  He's waiting." 
Krycek put an end to the reunion with his
statement.

Kurtzweil half-turned, noticing the gun.  "Is
that really necessary?"

"For now." Krycek signaled to Jesse, who came to
stand at Gabriel's side.

"Just a minute," Gabriel rushed out, piercing
Kurtzweil with a fevered stare.  "Is she okay? 
The baby?"

The doctor's face darkened and he sighed.  "I
had to mildly sedate her this time.  I haven't
seen an episode this bad since she came to be
with us."

Gabriel hung his head, biting his lip against
the scream that rushed up his throat.

"But I think she'll be all right," Kurtzweil
added softly.  "She probably won't remember what
set it off.  The mind has an amazing capability
to heal sometimes."

Jesse grabbed Gabriel's arm and shoved him to
the door.  He resisted, turning his head to beg
the doctor, "You'll stay with her, won't you?" 
He didn't like the way she looked, as if her
whole life had been drained from her.

"Until it's time to check on Matthew, yes. 
Don't worry, Gabriel.  She'll be fine."  His nod
spoke of certainty, of reassurance.  "So will
the baby."

He had to trust the man.  He had no choice,
considering he was caught between a gun and a
hard place named Jesse.  "I'm gonna be back," he
promised, giving Julia one last, longing look. 
"If - *when* she wakes up, tell her I'm coming
back."

Maybe not until all hell broke loose, but he'd
be back for her.  All the guns in the world
wouldn't stop him.

As he was ushered into the hall, the door closed
on Kurtzweil's slow nod.



End Chapter Twenty-One