Julia
Chapter Ten

Disclaimers, etc. in Headers


Undisclosed location
West Virginia mountains
July 5, 2000
8:17 a.m.


"Damn," she muttered, lowering her head to
stretch her neck.  She was no closer to solving
the mystery of the disk than she'd been days
ago.

The Gunmen were just as diligent, if not more
so, in their quest for answers.  She knew she
was pushing them and herself to the limits of
endurance, but she couldn't stop.  She
*wouldn't* stop until she found what she was
looking for.

The vaccine.  Mulder.  At this point, she wasn't
sure which was more paramount in her weary mind. 
And her brain was weary, that much was certain. 
Fueled by snacks of canned fruit and tons of
coffee, it seemed that it was working even in
her sleep.  Her dreams were vivid; mostly
involving Mulder and what he could possibly be
living through.  Flashes of torture... Mulder
screaming her name... they wouldn't leave her
alone, her waking hours haunted by the visions.

With a shudder, she shook off the painful images
and rose from the chair.  Coffee - she needed
more coffee.  The trio stationed around the room
didn't even glance up from their monitors as she
slipped quietly through the door into the hall. 
They were probably used to her caffeinated
wanderings by now, she thought.

The small kitchen was alive with the smell of
coffee and the scent bolstered her flagging
spirits.  This time, she would sit in here and
enjoy the strong brew instead of taking it back
to her workstation.  Pretend that it was a
normal day back at the Bureau; if she closed her
eyes, she could almost hear Mulder's low murmur
above the din of the teeming break room.

She sat at the table and sipped, keeping her
eyes closed as her mind wandered.  Lois from
payroll, rambling about her kids' soccer
tournament... Holly... dear, sweet Holly...
stopping by to greet her and Mulder with a small
smile.  Kim, the Assistant Director's secretary,
giving them a nod as she filled a cup for
herself and her boss.

Scully missed them all.  Melancholy settled over
her as she wondered if they'd made it, if
somehow they'd survived colonization.  She
couldn't decide which was worse - dying by
gestation or living in the hell left behind.

"Praying, Scully?"

The sarcastic drawl made her eyes pop open as
she tensed.  "Where the hell have you been,
Krycek?"

They hadn't seen him for days.  Not that she
really missed him all that much, but she sure as
hell didn't trust him.  If a better opportunity
presented itself, she knew he'd turn them all in
quicker than the blink of an eye.

As he smirked and headed for the coffeepot, she
noticed just how scruffy he was.  Unshaven and
unkempt, like he'd been in the same black garb
for a week.

"Where have I been?" he mused, his back to her. 
"Oh, I suppose you could say I've been treasure
hunting, Scully."

Treasure hunting?  Did he find something that
could help them?  She tamped down the hope and
waited for him to take the seat across from her. 
It wouldn't do to let him know just how badly
she needed some thread to cling to right now. 
Cool, she had to stay cool.

"Find anything interesting?" she asked, putting
nonchalance into the question with an arch of
her eyebrow.

"Not much... just this."  He punctuated the
bland statement by pulling something from his
pocket and laying it on the table before her.

Its gray-black surface immediately brought back
memories of that awful time in Africa.  Mulder's
illness and the futility of her search for a
cure.

The alien artifact.  Possibly from the sunken
ship, though it had gone missing after she'd
left the Ivory Coast.  More likely, the piece
acquired by the murdered Dr. Sandoz.

Schooling her face into an impassive mask, she
decided not to ask where it had come from.  The
more important question was, "What are you doing
with it, Krycek?"

"Keeping it safe."  His eyes spoke of pure
urgency.  It was important, she could tell from
his tense demeanor.

"Just how important is it?"

He leaned forward, brushing his fingers across
its surface like it was the most precious of
metals.

"Important enough to throw me into a Tunisian
prison when I stole it.  Important enough *not*
to kill me when I lied about having it hidden
away.  Important enough to keep me alive so he
could find it again."

*He* as in Cancerman, she thought.

"Important enough to kill Marita just hours
after Mulder's abduction... because she knew too
much about it."

"He killed Marita?"  Scully wasn't surprised,
just curious.

"Cured her, sent her after me, then had her
killed."  He looked away and took a gulp of
coffee.  "Pre-planned execution, of Marita, and
of me.  I guess that bullet with my name on it
hasn't found me yet."

He had to be the luckiest creep alive, Scully
thought.  Why couldn't Mulder ever enjoy such
good fortune?  She clamped her teeth over the
urge to scream with frustration.

Krycek continued, oblivious to her anger,
staring off into space.

"It was just like him to send us after Mulder,
then kill us, knowing I'd take the opportunity
to get rid of him forever.  Or so I thought. 
Little did I know the son-of-bitch has nine
lives."  His eyes darted back to her as he
laughed without mirth.  "It's like some second-
rate Greek tragedy, don't you think?"

Scully ignored the derisive chuckle and pressed
forward.  "But why is *this* so important?"  She
nodded at the artifact, almost afraid to lay a
finger on it.

Krycek took a quick breath, then sighed, saying
through clenched teeth, "*That* I don't know.  I
know he'd been experimenting with it.  Skinner
was a modest success."

Taken aback, Scully breathed, "Skinner?"

Nodding at the artifact, he replied, "The
nanites.  You thought they were pure carbon, but
they weren't.  Carbon-coated pieces of this
material taken from other crash sites."

Her mind raced, questions upon questions vying
for release.  "You infected Skinner with pieces
of *this*?  Why?  What's so special about it?"

He stood and finished off his coffee before
reaching for the artifact and pocketing it once
again.

"Once you find what *I'm* looking for... I'll
let you know."

She couldn't fathom just *why* he was doing all
this, what he hoped to gain.  It was quite
possibly a futile question, but she had to ask
anyway.

"And just what are you looking for, Krycek?"

At the door, he turned, as somber as she'd ever
seen him.

"Maybe... myself."

With that, he was gone.


**********


Washington, D.C.
February 8, 2001
9:30 p.m.

Another two nights of music-filled silence; at
least he hadn't thrown her out after her
impertinence of the other night.  Julia had
awakened the morning after their first real
conversation sure that there would be Guardsmen
waiting for her in the living room.  A concubine
did not question her master's motives about
anything, much less something as personal as a
suicide attempt.

But she was still here, although he hadn't made
another foray into the chasm between them.  She
sure as hell wasn't going to disrupt the status
quo by approaching him.  She was content just to
sit on the couch every evening.  Things could
have been a lot worse; life on the street was
hard.

When she had emerged from the bunker she'd
shared with the Gunmen after the initial round
of repatriation, she'd had to live by her wits. 
Armed with only a fake Priority One pass and the
plan, she'd methodically traveled from city to
city and found herself quickly becoming hardened
to the plight of those on the run.  Although the
Underground leaders had assured her they were
working to save as much of the population as
they could, there were only so many they could
save.  Julia knew that the odds were that nine
out of the ten faces she saw were destined for
death.

It was best to ignore the feelings of
helplessness and despair that arose with every
glance at a begging mother or a starving child. 
War did not discriminate; a good soldier kept
the objective in sight at all times.

If only she could apply that reasoning to
Mulder.  Little by little, the line between
logic and emotion blurred.  Julia vacillated
constantly now; when he was gone from the
apartment, her resolve strengthened.  She could
do this without any reserve.

All it took was one look at his face every
evening and the wall she carefully constructed
during the day came crashing down.  It mattered
not that he seldom spoke to her, especially in
the past two days.  He had power over her - the
Underground had failed to see just how much. 
Julia told herself throughout her journey that
she could deal with it; if she could ignore a
baby's cries, she could turn a blind eye to
Mulder's influence.

Too bad things never turned out the way they
were supposed to.

"Do you miss it, Julia?"

His voice made her start and she dropped the
book she was reading into her lap, losing her
place.  Not that it was holding her interest
anyway.

Julia stayed where she was, unwilling to go to
him just yet.  She needed time to determine
where this line of questioning was going.  Time
to prepare, although she doubted it would do
much good when she had to face those haunted
eyes.

"Do you?"

Damn, he was close, standing at her feet.  He'd
crossed the room silently, his shuffle lost to
her amidst the gathering of her defenses.  Too
late now to regroup; she'd have to make do with
the bricks already in place.

<Miss what?> She plastered a benign look on her
face, or what she hoped passed for casual
interest.

"What you were before," he replied, sitting on
the coffee table before her.  "The life you had
before."

What a stupid question, she thought.  Her lips
pursed with anger; Mulder instantly backtracked.

"Of course you do," he muttered, hanging his
head.  "What a stupid question."

Julia raised her eyes to his sagging form and
was dismayed by his withdrawal, her anger
dissipating quickly.  She put a hand on his knee
and urged him to continue.

Mulder sensed her conciliation and rushed to
clarify.  "What I meant was, do you miss it so
much sometimes that it hurts?  Physically, in
your bones.  You know, the sharp pain that comes
when a memory surfaces that takes you by
surprise."

<Of course I do, Fox.  Except it hurts here.>
She laid a hand over her heart.

His eyes followed the splay of fingers, his
voice dwindling to a whisper.  "You have hands
like hers, you know."

Julia gasped and quickly tried to hide her hands
in the folds of her robe.  Before she could
succeed, however, Mulder had taken them into his
own, forcing her to remain still.

He rubbed his thumbs over the backs of her
hands, his fascinated gaze taking in the
translucent web of veins and delicate pink
nails.

"She has the most capable hands," he murmured. 
"I hurt and she heals."

Dear God in heaven, Julia prayed.  Don't let him
look at me now.

"She's not dead, you know.  I would feel it if
she was."  Just as Mulder brought his head up,
Julia's lowered.

She waited in forced silence, thanking the Lord
she couldn't speak.  It didn't stop a tear from
escaping, though, its salty path taking it right
past the memory of that mole she used to hate.

Mulder let go of her hands and she hurriedly
brushed her damp cheeks, steeling herself
somewhat.

<Why are you telling me this?> She signed the
words without meeting his eyes.

"Because you're different, Julia," he said
softly.  "All the others looked at me with
hatred and disgust.  You look at me with *her*
eyes."

<I don't think so,> she said with a wry sniffle.

"Oh, they're not exactly the same, their shape
is different.  But the color is exactly the same
as hers."  He brought her chin up, forcing her
to meet his eyes.  "I saw... things, Julia.  In
her eyes.  Words that she couldn't say to me. 
You may be physically unable to speak, but it
was just as hard for her, you know.  Love,
desire... need.  All in her eyes.  I see the
same in yours."

Julia sat there, her breathing becoming more
intense, the air rushing through her parted
lips.  Mulder was fascinated by the flutter of
her pulse in the hollow of her throat, and
Julia's eyes closed as he lowered his lips to
that valley, slowly, slowly....

She was sure her heart would collapse from the
furious beating her body was putting it through. 
Mulder's mouth stopped a mere hair's breadth
from her skin and he gripped her shoulders,
effectively holding her in a vise.

"Jesus," he rasped, his whiskey-scented breath
stirring her senses into a frenzy.  "You even
smell like her...."  His fingers loosened as his
lips finally touched her skin.

She couldn't help it.  Her arms wrapped around
him as he went almost boneless, his knees
hitting the carpet as he knelt before her.

"Scully."

Julia felt his pain pierce into her very soul. 
He didn't realize what he was saying, that was
obvious.  The liquor and stress were making him
hallucinate.  He couldn't possibly think she
was....

"I - I miss you, Scully."

Dear God, Julia thought.  It isn't enough for
You that we have to live like this?  Why must
You keep torturing him this way?  Torturing *me*
this way?

She stroked his back with one trembling hand and
laid his head upon her shoulder with the other,
cradling him like she would a child.  His face
was hot and damp and his eyes were shut tight,
his lips moving against her neck in a continuing
confession.

"I'm sorry I left you, Scully... they held me...
made me...."  He hiccuped ungracefully, the
words stopping momentarily as he gasped for
breath.  "I'm so tired, Scully.  So tired."

Julia shifted, pulling Mulder up and away from
her.

"No, don't go," he said, making a feeble attempt
to stall her flight.  Julia took his hands and
made him sit beside her, then laid him upon the
couch, careful not to break contact in an effort
to tell him she wasn't going anywhere.  She made
him relax, pulling his legs up and sliding off
his tennis shoes, all the while keeping her eyes
locked upon his heavy-lidded gaze.

I won't leave you, her eyes told him.  Believe
me, I won't.

She slowly crawled into his embrace, his sigh of
relief threatening to make her cry.  But she let
the sadness pass her by, and instead reveled in
the safety of his arms and the surety of his
heartbeat under her cheek.  His hand closed over
her fist, and she gave him what he needed, her
fingers slowly curling.

<I'm here.  Sleep, Mulder.>

As her first two fingers separated from the 'R'
in his name, his hand slid under hers and their
palms kissed each other goodnight.



End Chapter Ten