Title: THE LOST SOUL

Author: Donna McIntosh
Email: dmcintoshtx@...
Fandom: X-Files
Pairing: Skinner/Krycek
Rating: NC – 17 FRAO
Genre: Slash
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Files and I make no money off these stories.
Summary: Skinner has a Near Death Experience and finds out he has one
lesson left to learn before he can pass on and that is the lesson of
forgiveness. He must learn to forgive Alex Krycek.
Special thanks to Ursula for her great Beta job.


THE LOST SOUL

Walter Skinner had just taken the Crystal City off ramp and was
pleased to see the light green for a change. He'd be home in another
ten minutes and he was thinking about re-heating some leftover Chinese
take out for dinner. He debated whether or not to stop at the liquor
store and decided not to. He'd have enough Scotch to last till the
weekend if he limited himself to two drinks a night. He could do
that. He never even saw the truck that hit him. He sailed through
the green light and then there was an explosion and everything went black.

He was walking down a long path across a grassy green field. The sun
was bright and diffused his surroundings into a fuzzy blur. Nothing
was clear except the path in front of him. He had a moment's wonder
at where he was but it passed in a flash. The afternoon was warm and
the breeze was comfortably cool. He spotted someone sitting at a desk
at the end of the path and thought he'd stop and ask where he was.

"Hello, you must be Walter. Please, have a seat." The man stood up
and greeted him with an out-stretched hand across the desk.

Walter took the hand and returned the greeting. "Hi. Yes, I'm Walter
Skinner. And you are?"

"Peter. We're strictly on a first name basis here. Sit, please, so
we can talk."

"What are you doing out here? You say you were expecting me?" Walter
asked as he sat.

"Yes. It's good to see you again."

"Again? I've been here before?"

"Yes, but that was a long time ago and you were in pretty bad shape.
I doubt you remember. You were a very angry young man at the time."

"I'm sorry." Walter rubbed fingertips against his temple. "I don't
remember."

"That's quite all right. What exactly is it that you do remember?"

Walter leaned back in the chair and tried to put his thoughts in
order. "I was driving home from work. I was thinking about whether
or not to stop at the liquor store and then … I heard a loud noise, an
explosion, I think."

"So your mind is pretty clear up to the moment of impact then?"

"Impact?"

"The truck that came around the corner; the driver lost control and he
lost his life."

"He hit me? The light was green, I remember that."

"You are correct. You had the green light as you entered that
intersection. He had the red. But he was speeding and when he hit
his brakes at the last minute, they failed."

Walter was confused. "If I was broadsided, why wasn't I injured? Why
aren't I in a hospital?"

"Oh, but you were and you are." Peter said and with a wave of his arm
a small cloud appeared over the desk and opened up. Walter could see
himself lying in a hospital bed – Mulder and Scully at his bedside.

"What the … What is this? Where am I?" Walter leaned closer to the
scene and he could hear Scully praying and see Mulder pacing the floor
behind her. "What's going on here?"

"You haven't figured that out yet?" Peter said with a gentle smile.

"Am I … dead?"

"No. But you're close. I thought it was time the two of us had
another chat. You're not an angry young man any more. You've lived a
fine life and you are at a crossroad now."

"Crossroad? What kind of crossroad?"

"You have a choice to make."

"What kind of choice?"

"You have learned many lessons during your different life times on
earth. You have one left to learn before I can let you in."

"Let me in? Where?"

"Why, Heaven, of course." Another wave of his arm and Walter saw
beautiful pearly white gates over to the side. He could see green
grass and flowers and heard the most beautiful tinkling music he had
ever heard coming from beyond the gate.

Walter sat with his mouth open in wonder. "It's beautiful!" he said
with awe. "So what is this last lesson that I have to learn before I
can enter?"

" Forgiveness – you must learn how to forgive."

"Forgiveness? Do you have any idea what I've been through?" Walter
stood and began to pace.

"As a matter of fact, I do." Peter leaned back and addressed Walter
with a grin. "I know your complete record from the day you were born.
I know it all; the good and the bad."

"There wasn't all that much bad." Walter defended himself. "I
suppose you're talking about my time in Nam?"

"I am; among other things."

"What other things? What?" Walter demanded.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Walter. We have all done things that we
regret; that we wish we could change or make up for. This is your
chance to wipe the slate clean."

"What do I have to do?"

"We have another soul who is about to be lost for good. Without
someone's immediate intervention his soul will be doomed forever."
Another wave of his arm and another vision opened up. He could see
another desk a long ways off, and sitting behind it was the grinning
beast from hell himself, Satan. His gnarled face was as red as the
scene from behind his black iron gate where Walter could see the
bubbling cauldron of molten lava and the bodies shrieking in terror
and pain as they eddied and swirled in the depths, clawing at the
sides and trying to climb out. A glance back at Satan and Walter
could see he was enjoying himself watching the scene before turning
his eyes to Walter. He smiled his evil smile and crooked a finger at
Walter, beckoning him closer.

Walter stood where he was and gasped as the foul stench of burning
flesh reached his nostrils.

"How can I help?" Walter sat back down and leaned forward towards Peter.

"You have worked long and hard all your life to achieve your many
accomplishments."

"Yes, I have. I've worked damn hard to get where I am. What has that
got to do with anything?"

"Many opportunities came your way and you jumped on each one using
them as stepping stones to get where you find yourself right now."

"I'm not following."

"You were offered opportunities, you took advantage of them and things
worked out for you."

"That's right."

"Others were also offered opportunities which they took advantage of
and sometimes they didn't work out."

"I see. What you're saying is that I was lucky."

"You were lucky as well as being a hard worker. You grew up in a
family that loved you, you were popular in school and good grades came
easy to you. You came back from a war that many didn't, and you came
back intact both physically and mentally. You had the best medical
help available at the time, you went to college on the G.I. bill,
graduated near the top of your class, landed a good job and
immediately started climbing the ladder of success."

"I'm aware of all that."

"There are others, many others who did not have the advantages you
have had. Others did not make the right choices and have suffered
mightily because of it. Some grew up on the streets, without parents
or family support. Some, while not involved in a declared war, were
doing battle just the same. Some came through it all and were
redeemed to eventually find their way here." He gestured towards
Heaven. "Others were not so lucky. They see themselves as doomed and
they lash out at everyone and every thing in their path."

"And all this is leading to one particular person that you want me to
help?"

"Yes it is. I was confused my self at first as to why you were
brought here as your current injuries were not that serious. I see it
clearly now. You were chosen for this assignment."

"And this assignment is supposed to teach me to forgive?"

"It is."

"Ok. So give me this guy's name and I'll see what I can do."

"His name is Alex Krycek."

"ALEX KRYCEK?!" Walter jumped up again. "You can't be serious. If
ever anyone deserved to be over there," he gestured towards Hell,
"it's Alex Krycek!"

"I see. And just when were you put in charge of deciding where your
fellow man's soul should spend eternity?"

"You don't understand – you don't know this man. I do!"

"I know him, Walter, just as I know you." He un-rolled a long scroll
that reached to the ground beside his desk. "I've known him from the
time he was first born and his prostitute mother left him in a card
board box in a dumpster. I've known him as a run-away child walking
the streets fighting for a piece of bread. I've known him as he
worked on his studies by a flickering neon light in the back room of a
seedy bar and as he turned tricks to pay for food. He was fighting
for survival from the time he took his first breath. He had a lot of
opportunities offered to him too which he took advantage of. Most of
them didn't work out. You worked as a teenager to buy that old pick
up truck so you could drive your girl friends around. He worked as a
teenager to put a roof over his head and food in his mouth. He has
worked long and hard too, Walter. Yes, he has made mistakes; many,
many mistakes and his life, the last ten years, has gone steadily down
hill because of them."

"A lot of people make it through difficult childhoods and come through
to be fine up-standing adults. Krycek did not."

"Exactly my point, Walter, Alex is still floundering in the darkness.
He has no idea how close he is to losing his soul for all eternity.
Once he goes through that gate over there, there is no coming back."

"Maybe some souls deserve to be there."

"I'm sure some do. Just as I am sure that Alex does not. His soul
was a thing of pure beauty and innocence until it was all taken from
him by someone who had promised to look out for him – his foster
father, who, by the way, is a permanent resident across the way there."

Walter snuck a quick look over at Satan and had to look immediately
away from the obscenely grinning face.

"He was abused?"

"In the worst way possible for a young boy but he persevered. He
struggled to keep alive and clothed and in school. All he ever wanted
to do was become a police man, to help people, to take care of them."

"He has a funny way of showing that."

"Maybe so. But here is a man that had no nurturing at all and he
managed to keep himself alive, put himself through school and make it
into the F.B.I."

"Yes he did and then first chance he got, he went over to the other
side!" Walter was getting steamed again.

"As I said before, he has made many mistakes, he believed people he
shouldn't have; put his faith in people who didn't deserve it. He
knows he is on the wrong path but sees no way out."

"And I'm supposed to help him? How can I possibly do that? If you
know all about him, then you know he and I have a history. He hates
me and he'd never believe anything I told him."

"Yes, I know all about your history with him. I know both sides of
it. You know only yours."

"What other side was there? He tortured me! And he enjoyed every
minute of it!"

"That's certainly your side; as you know it. Did you know that he was
the one who brought you back to life? Did you know that that bearded,
long-haired hippy was Alex and he was watching over you to make sure
you weren't injured too badly? Did you know he was the one who ran
over that man in the garage who was shooting at you?"

Walter stared blankly at him.

"Of course you didn't. You know a great deal about Alex but you don't
really know him at all."

"What's to know? He made it into the Bureau and after a few months he
joined the enemy. That seems pretty clear cut to me."

"Then you're refusing this lesson?"

"I'm saying you are asking the impossible. I'm not a magician.
There's no way I could ever get to Krycek. You said I had a choice.
Is there some other thing you could ask of me instead of this?"

"If you choose not to do this, then your only other choice is to go
back and start all over again as a newborn with a full life ahead of
you to live. Hopefully in that new life you will learn your final
lesson."

"You mean I'd die."

"I mean Walter Skinner would cease to exist. You would simply be
reborn again and again until you learn your final lesson."

"You don't leave me much choice."

"We all have lessons to learn before we can move on. The decision is
yours to make. You can either go back and attempt to learn your final
lesson in this life, or you can choose to start over again in a new life."

"And if I choose to go back and try it with Krycek and fail?"

"If you choose to do a job, I have every confidence that it will be
done." Peter smiled at him.

"What you are asking is impossible – the man has absolutely no
redeeming qualities at all. How am I supposed to over come that?"

"I'm sure you'll find a way."

"And what exactly is it that I'm supposed to do with him? How is it
that I'm supposed to redeem him? Make him do some good deeds or what?"

"Alex has learned many lessons in his life times but he has not
learned one very important one and that is to trust."

"And how will I know if and when he has learned this lesson?"

"You will know. I will send you a message."

"What? A letter? A phone call? What should I be looking for?"

"No, no. It will be much more subtle than that. Maybe something like
this." He waved a finger in the air and once again Walter could hear
the music from beyond the gates. He couldn't quite make out the
instruments, it was unlike anything he had ever heard before but it
was, without a doubt, the most beautiful music he had ever heard. And
then it was gone. "Please," he asked. "I'd like to hear more."

"You will – when the time is right." Peter stood and extended his
hand to Walter.

"This is an impossible thing you've asked of me, Peter, but I will
give it my best shot."

"I know you will. I'm an excellent judge of character and I know you
have it in you to save this man's soul."

"And if I fail, will the job fall to someone else?"

"No. If you should fail then I'm afraid that he wins another soul."
He nodded to where Satan sat watching them.

"I'm Krycek's only chance?"

"You are. He is close to the end of his days if drastic changes
aren't made and made immediately."

Walter released Peter's hand and turned to leave. "I don't even know
where to find him. What if I don't get to him in time?"

"Then Alex is lost and the evil one wins."

Walter walked back down the path into the late afternoon mist.

xxxxxx

"Mulder, he's waking up!"

"Sir? How are you feeling?" Mulder asked.

"Huh?" Walter mumbled groggily and lifted a hand up to his bandaged head.

"Can I get you anything? Here; drink some water." Scully held a cup
with a straw up to him.

"What happened?" Walter rasped through dry lips.

"Automobile accident, two days ago." Mulder answered then added, "Did
Krycek have anything to do with it?"

"Krycek?" Walter asked.

"Yeah, you were mumbling something about Krycek."

Memory came flooding back to Walter then but it wasn't of Alex Krycek,
it was of a man in a white robe sitting behind a desk.

"Uhh I don't know. I can't remember. I was driving home from work …
that's about all I can remember." He shifted in his bed trying to get
a bit more comfortable. Mulder pressed the lever and raised the head
of the bed a bit. "Thanks."

"Were you working on something that involved Krycek? I haven't seen
him in months."

"No. Maybe you misunderstood."

"He didn't misunderstand, Sir. I heard you too. You said the name
Krycek clearly a couple of times." Scully offered.

"I can't imagine why." Walter said as he rubbed his forehead. "My
head aches."

"I'll check with the nurse and see if the doctor left orders for any
pain meds." Scully said and disappeared from the room.

"What is the extent of my injuries and was anyone else hurt?" Walter
asked as he tried to flex his muscles one at a time.

"A few cuts, a lot of bruises, no broken bones, just a major bump on
the side of your head where you hit the window."

"Nothing serious then, good, I need to get out of here." Walter tried
to sit up but couldn't.

"It was serious enough that you've been unconscious for two days. I
think you need to just lay back and rest." Mulder pressed a hand
against Walter's shoulder. "Is there something you need to take care
of? Can I do it for you?"

"No. No thank you, Mulder. I just have things that I need to be
doing. Can you get me the doctor? I need to see about getting out of
here."


They managed to keep him there two more days and that was only because
he was too weak to leave on his own. On the third morning, Walter was
dressed and waiting when the doctor made his rounds and checked
himself out of the hospital.

Once home again in his apartment, Walter tried to figure out how to
get in touch with Krycek. He paced the floor wondering and said a
little prayer, "If I'm supposed to help Krycek then you'd better tell
me how to find him because I'm coming up blank here."

He sat down at his desk and started thumbing through his mail. He
opened his electric bill, one hundred twenty four dollars. He tossed
it aside. The next was an advertisement that had been slightly
mangled. He smoothed it out and found it to be from his favorite shoe
store announcing a sale. "It's as easy as one, two, three, four," it
proclaimed. "One, come in and look at the latest styles; two, pick
out what you want; three, charge it; and four, pay no interest for
twelve months." He placed it over with the electric bill; he could
use some new shoes. The rest of it was junk and he tossed it.

He realized he still had his hospital wrist band on so he pulled his
scissors out of the desk drawer and snipped it off. Reading it he saw
that Doctor Wilson's first name was Peter. His name was next and then
his patient number. The first three digits were in bold print. "One,
two, four". He tossed it into the garbage. He wandered over and
turned the TV on. There was a big fire in the warehouse district. A
building was blazing and the announcer was telling every one to stay
away from One Hundred and Twenty Fourth Street. He repeated it over
and over again; "Everyone please stay away from One Hundred and Twenty
Fourth Street." He flipped the channels and got the same fire on each
channel, the same warning, "Stay away from One Hundred and Twenty
Fourth Street." He flipped the TV off and began pacing again.

"Come on, Saint Peter. If you expect me to do this job you've got to
give me some help here. Where can I find Krycek? Give me some kind
of sign!"















CHAPTER TWO

He wandered into the kitchen and fixed himself a sandwich for lunch.
He brought it back into his desk and turned on his computer. He
figured he may as well pay his bill while it was lying there. He
brought up his account and typed in the number – one hundred twenty
four. He reached over for the advertisement that had bent back to
it's original warped shape and could just see the big numbers across
the top One, Two, Four; the number three being lost in the fold.
Something clicked in his brain just then.

ONE HUNDRED TWENTY FOUR!!! He reached into the trash and pulled out
his hospital bracelet. One Hundred Twenty Four was in bold print. He
flipped the TV back on and there it was again – big fire over on One
Hundred and Twenty Fourth Street.

He grabbed his jacket, car keys and headed out. He didn't know what
he was going to do when he got there but he felt sure he would figure
it out. The warehouse district! That would be exactly the type of
place he could see Krycek living. Some of the old buildings had been
made into apartments. Not the plush kind that you see in some of the
refurbished buildings in the inner city areas but the cheap kind. No
lease, no names, just cash money accepted for however many hours,
days, or weeks you could stand it.

He was stopped just before the block where the fire was but he showed
his I.D. and they let him through. He passed by the building on fire
and hoped that wasn't Krycek's final exit. He thought of Satan's
leering smile and cringed. He glanced at the street sign and saw he
was right in the center of the oldest part of the city; Main Street
and One Hundred Twenty Fourth Street. He saw the numbers on the front
of the buildings. A block further and he saw it. A building was
numbered One Hundred Twenty Four. He pulled around back and parked in
the alley.

The desk clerk was busy watching soaps on her small black and white TV
but finally came out when he called to her that he was from the F.B.I.
and held up his badge. She stubbed her cigarette out in an
over-flowing ash tray sitting on the counter.

"Look, I don't know nothin' about nothin'. I been watchin' my soaps
and I don't know nothin 'bout that damned fire."

"This isn't about the fire. I'm looking for someone. It's personal,
not business related, but it's extremely urgent that I find him. His
name is Alex Krycek or he might be using the name of Alex Artzen."

"We don't much go by names 'round here. They pay me, they get a room.
They don't pay me and my cousin Vinny comes in with a coupla friends
and throws them out."

"All right – he's late thirties, dark hair, about my height but
thinner. And he has a prosthetic left arm. Do you have anyone like
that here?"

"Oh, you mean the gimp. Yeah. He's here. Sure hope he's not in any
trouble. He's 'bout the only client I got that pays me on time and
don't give me no trouble."

"He's not in any trouble, I assure you. As I said, it's personal and
very urgent. Could you tell me his room number please?" He slid a
hundred dollar bill onto the counter.

"Third floor, end of the hall. Three twelve." She grabbed up the
bill and stuffed it down the front of her stained blouse.

"Thank you!" He said and bolted for the stairway.

The three flights of stairs left him temporarily winded but by the
time he got to the door he was fine. There was a light on underneath
the door so he was pretty sure Krycek was home. He stopped for a
moment wondering what he was going to say and decided to just go for
it. He'd think of something. He knocked on the door. No answer. He
knocked again harder – still no answer. He called out. "Krycek, its
Skinner. I need to talk with you. It's important." He pounded again.

"Go away!"

"I said I need to talk with you. It's urgent." He pounded again.

"GO AWAY!"

Skinner noticed the window and looked out onto the fire escape. He
opened it, climbed out and walked the few steps over to the window
looking into Krycek's apartment. He cleaned the dirt off and looked
in. Krycek was sitting at the small kitchen table with a gun in his
hand. He raised it and placed the barrel in his mouth.

"NO!" Walter yelled and used his elbow to break the window. He
reached in, undid the lock and climbed in.

Krycek sat numbly watching him but the surprise was enough for him to
take the gun out of his mouth and ask, "What the hell do you want,
Skinner?"

Walter panted until he caught his breath. "Look; I know this is out
of left field but I need to talk with you."

"So talk."

"My head is killing me." He pulled a bottle of Tylenol out of his
pocket. "May I have some water to take these?"

Krycek nodded to the cupboard. "Knock yourself out." He said as he
slouched back in his chair with the gun dangling in his lap.

Walter took a glass from the cupboard and filled it with tap water.
"Is it all right if I sit?"

"Go for it." Krycek kicked the other kitchen chair out from under the
table and Walter sat down. "I thought you were in the hospital?"

"I just got out a little while ago."

"And you came looking for me? I'm honored." Krycek sneered, his hand
fingering the gun in his lap.

"Krycek, this is as awkward for me as it is for you; maybe more so."
He stalled, searching for words.

"If you came here looking for help on some case, you're out of luck.
I'm out of it now."

"No. That's not why I came. I … something strange happened to me
while I was unconscious."

"Oh I get it. You had one of those near-death experiences. Shouldn't
you be talking about this with Mulder? That's more along his line, I
would think."

"Do you believe in things like that; those types of experiences?"

"Shit, I don't know. Some of it's probably true but most of it is
just an excuse to get a spot on TV or write a book."

"This was serious, Krycek."

"So you had an NDE and I'm assuming it has something to do with me or
you wouldn't be here?"

"That's right. I was given a choice. I could start life over again
as a new born baby or I could come back as Walter Skinner and finish
learning my lessons."

"And since you're here, I take it you chose to come back and learn
your lesson. What lesson is it you need to learn and what has it got
to do with me?"

"Forgiveness."

Krycek stared at him for a few minutes then laughed out loud. "You're
joking, right? You came here to forgive me?" He laughed again.

"That's part of it. There's another part."

"Please tell me. I haven't had a good laugh in a long time."

"This is serious, Krycek. I believe this happened. I believe I had
this experience and that I was meant to come here. How else do you
explain how I found you? It was a series of coincidences that led me
to you. I had no idea whatsoever how to find you. Then it all came
together. I kept seeing the number One Twenty Four everywhere. I
came here not knowing where I was headed other than One Hundred Twenty
Fourth Street then I saw the building number and stopped."

"You saw the number where?"

"On my hospital I.D. bracelet, on my electric bill, on an
advertisement, on the fire on TV – it all came together in a flash. I
had been pacing the floor praying for some kind of signal, some way to
find you."

"So you think finding me was some sort of Divine Intervention?" Alex
sneered.

"I do."

Krycek laughed again. "Five minutes later and you'd have been too late."

"I know. That's what I was told."

"What were you told?" Krycek got a little more serious then.

"I was told that you were nearing the end of your days and that if
something wasn't done immediately, you would be lost."

"Lost?" Krycek asked with just a touch of sarcasm. "I've been lost
my entire life!"

"I know. He told me."

"He who?"

"Peter. Saint Peter."

"And he told you to bring me this fairy tale to what purpose?"

"He wants to save your soul."

Krycek stood up and walked over to the refrigerator and took out a
bottle of water, uncapped it and drank. "It's about thirty eight
years too late for that."

"No it's not! He sent me here to help you."

"Help me? How in the hell are you supposed to do that?"

"I have no idea. I only know that we have to try, Krycek. I'm the
last chance you have. Somehow, we've got to teach you how to trust."

"And in doing this, you learn how to forgive – sort of a two for one
kind of deal."

"I guess so. Hell, I don't know. I just know it was real. It wasn't
a dream. I found you and I stopped you from doing what you were
planning on doing." He glanced at the gun on the table.

"You seriously think you can stop me?" He gave another little laugh.
"I can end it all any time I want to. You have no say in the matter,
you and your drug induced nightmare."

"Call it what you want but the fact remains that I found you when I
hadn't been able to find you before for years. I got here in time and
you put that thing down. While you're still alive, you still have a
chance. Kill yourself and it's all over for you for good."

"And what happens if you fail in this glorious mission of yours? To
you, I mean."

"I will have to keep on living one life after another until I can
learn how to forgive."

"So you need to learn how to forgive and I need to learn how to trust.
Just how do you propose we do this?" Krycek sat back down across
from Walter.

"I don't know but it's something we both need to do. I was hoping you
might have some ideas."

"Well, I don't. I'm sure Mulder or Scully would have the scientific
explanation for what you obviously went through but I doubt it has any
real significance."

"You're unwilling even to try? I told Peter you'd never listen to me."

"Why would you accept such a stupid mission?"

"Because I wasn't ready to die yet. And I'm surprised that you're so
anxious to."

Krycek sat staring at him. "You really believe in all this shit?"

"I do. I have to admit that I never did before but this was all too
real. It happened."

"I believe you think it happened but that doesn't make me believe it
actually did happen."

"You think this was all a dream?"

"More or less."

"Then how do you explain how I found you?"

"I don't know; coincidence."

"I believe that coincidences happen but several in a row?"

"You found me, that's one."

"But how I found you was several at once; all the numbers the same."

"Ok. So you found me by Devine Intervention. You stopped me,
temporarily, from blowing my brains out. Where do we go from here?
You and I both know, you are never going to forgive me for all the
things I've done and if there's one thing I've learned in life, it NOT
to trust anyone."

"That's the way we both feel right now. We have to figure out a way
to get passed all of that."

"Get passed it?" He chuckled. "There's just no getting passed some
things, Skinner."

"We will. We'll work this out somehow. At least we're talking.
That's a start. I didn't think I'd even be able to find you."

"And you think talking will do the trick? You're dreaming!"

"I think we need to at least try. Can we just do that?"

"Sure, I'm game." Krycek gave a tired sigh. "I've got nothing else
planned for this afternoon. What would you like to talk about?"

"You – I want to know everything there is to know about you and how
you got to where you are right now. I want to understand what makes
you tick. Maybe if I understand you a little better I can work on
forgiving you."

"There's not that much to tell. You know my story. I got on at the
Bureau and made the stupid mistake of believing Old Smokey when he
gave me the bull about saving the world. I stepped across the line
and by the time I found out I was on the wrong side, I couldn't get
back – period."

"No – start at the beginning. I want to know everything. Where were
you born, tell me about your family; what were they like? Where did
you go to school? What pets did you have? What was it like for you
growing up?"

Krycek stared at him for a while then spoke, "What has my childhood
got to do with anything?"

"I don't know. I just want to understand you and I can't do that
unless I know you better. I don't need a run down of your record of
misdeeds since you left the Bureau. I'm familiar with most of them."

"OK. If that's what you want. I was born in Springfield, Ohio. I
don't know anything about my parents. I was one of those babies that
you read about in the newspapers. I was thrown away in a card board
box in a dumpster. A couple of kids found me. They thought they were
digging out a puppy or a kitten someone had dumped. They found me. I
grew up in an orphanage there in Springfield and was placed in foster
care at the age of ten." He began to squirm in his chair a bit.
"Things … didn't work out and I ran away. I've been on my own every
since."

"At the age of ten – how did you survive?" Walter was aghast. He
knew what had happened to cause Krycek to run away. He didn't need to
hear the words. He could see it all in Krycek's eyes.

"I found work here and there and when I couldn't find a way to make
any money, I'd steal from the grocery stores or eat out of restaurant
dumpsters."

"Where did you sleep?"

"Wherever I was when I was tired; in alley ways, on fire escapes, in
parked cars. Sometimes I'd slip into a movie theater and sleep there.
Many a night popcorn picked up off the floor was my dinner."

"Shit." Walter sympathized.

"I got by. I got bigger, smarter, and by age thirteen I was turning
tricks for my keep. I managed to keep myself fed, clothed, and in
school. I knew education was my way out of the miserable life I was
leading so I stuck to it. Right after high school, I entered the
police academy."

"You wanted to be a policeman?"

"I did. It's all I ever wanted. My second year there I was recruited
by the Bureau. I joined up and made it through Quantico."

"That's amazing."

"My first day at the Hoover, I met Spender. He took me into his
office and told me he'd been keeping an eye on me and that he would
have some special assignments for me. I wasn't to discuss them with
anyone else and then he dismissed me to report to my A.D."

"Spender doesn't have an office in the Hoover."

"I know that now. I didn't then."

"Go on."

"That's about it. You know the rest of the story. I accepted each
and every assignment, convinced that I was doing my part in saving the
world and all the time I was doing the old man's dirty work and didn't
even know it."

"Why didn't you go to your A.D. when you realized what was happening?"

"By then it was too late. I had already taken out three men at
Spender's request. He had me by the balls and we both knew it. I
either continued following his orders or he turned me in. He had
proof, witnesses, photographs etc. I couldn't see spending the rest
of my life behind bars."

"So what brought you to this point today?" Walter nodded towards the
gun lying on the table now.

"I did something I should have done years ago."

"What was that?"

"I put a bullet right between the old man's eyes and another in the
back of his head for good measure."

"He's dead? Spender is dead?"

"He is. But I'm not going to jail for the bastard. I'll end it all
right here before I do that."

"Maybe you could claim self defense?"

"The Consortium is all but defunct but there are still a few of them
around with enough power to see that I never made it to trial. In a
cell, I'd be a sitting duck."

"There must be a way." Walter stood and started to pace.

"What difference does it make to you? All you need to do is say you
forgive me and you can go merrily on your way."

"I was asked to help you. That's what I'm going to do but first I've
got to figure out how."

"This is the only way out for me now." Krycek said and held up his gun.

"No! If you do that, you're damned to Hell for all eternity. I've
seen it, Krycek. I was twenty feet from it. I could feel the heat
and smell the flesh burning and I saw Him. I saw Him sitting there
with an obscene grin on his face as he watched the tortured souls.
You don't want to go there."

"You really believe in all this crap?"

"I do! And you've got to believe it too before it's too late."

"What if I said I do believe it but I just don't really care any more?"

"Yes you do care! You have to care, Krycek. Does anyone else know
where you live?"

"Uh huh. A few of the people from the group; why?"

"We've got to get you out of here then. Come on. Grab a few things
and let's go."

"Go? Go where?"

"I don't know. It will come to me as we're going. I just know we
need to get out of here. And we need to do it right now." He pulled
Krycek to his feet. "I got a bad feeling, Krycek. We need to get out
of here."

Just then someone started pounding on the front door. It jolted them
both with fear.

"Forget packing. Let's go." Walter said and pushed Krycek towards
the window.

Out the fire escape they went, down into the alley and hopped into
Walter's car. They were gone in an instant. They dodged between
alleyways, crossed over main streets until they made it up on the
freeway. They had no sooner got going good when Walter pulled the car
over and stopped.

"What's wrong? Why are we stopping here?"

"I don't feel good … my head. You need to drive. I feel dizzy."

Krycek got out quickly and came around to the driver's side. Walter
opened the door and stumbled out. Krycek caught him. "Hold on there.
Don't you pass out on me now. You've got to save me, remember?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, right." Walter hung on while Krycek steered him
around to the passenger side and helped him in.

Krycek got behind the wheel and they were off again. The next thing
Walter knew he was being hauled out of the car and into the elevator.
He leaned his head back against the wall and recognized it as
the elevator in his apartment building. "I'm sorry. I guess I
passed out."

"It's all right. I'll get you upstairs and then I'm off." Krycek
said as he steadied him.




























CHAPTER THREE

They stopped in front of his door and Walter fumbled with his keys and
dropped them. Krycek picked them up and unlocked the door. They went
in and he helped Walter to lie down on the couch.

"You want me to call the doctor?"

"No! I just need to rest for a few minutes. I'm fine."

"Ok. Your choice. I'm out of here." As Krycek turned to go, someone
knocked on the door.

"Damn." Walter said and sat up rubbing the side of his head.

"Skinner? Skinner?" The pounding was now accompanied by Mulder's voice.

"Upstairs." Walter nodded to Krycek who immediately took them two at
a time and was out of sight by the time Walter answered the door.

"What is it, Mulder?" He said as he pulled the door open.

"I have great news. What took you so long to answer the door? I
called but you didn't answer. I was worried."

"I was lying down, Mulder. What is it?" He closed the door as Mulder
entered.

"Cancer man – he's dead. The body was just found – two bullets in the
head."

"That is good news. Whoever did it should get a medal."

"I agree. I wonder who did it. Do you have any idea?" Mulder asked.

"Probably someone he double-crossed along the way."

"Yeah. We probably never will know who did the actual deed. Most
likely some hit man from out of town. It looks professional."

Walter sat back down wearily on the couch.

"Are you ok, Sir?" Mulder asked. "You don't look too good."

"I'm fine. I just got out of the hospital this morning, remember? I
need a few days to get my strength back."

"I could get Scully over here to take a look at you. I'm supposed to
meet her for dinner in a little while. Why don't you join us? We can
make it a victory celebration."

"I appreciate the offer but what I need now is rest."

"Ok. That's probably best. You want us to bring you some dinner?"

"No thanks. I've got stuff for dinner." He stood up and walked
Mulder to the door. "I just need a few days here to get myself together."

"Sure, sure. If you need anything, just call me or Scully."

"I'll do that. Thanks." He closed the door behind Mulder and made
his way back to the couch.

"How are you doing?" He opened his eyes to see Krycek staring down at
him.

"Truth? I feel like shit. My head's killing me, I'm dizzy and I'm
starving." He glanced over at the desk where his lunch sat with just
one bite taken out of it.

"You haven't eaten today?"

"I had breakfast at the hospital, if you can call that breakfast. I
almost had lunch but got side tracked."

"Saving me I suppose." Krycek chuckled.

"You got it."

"Ok. So I owe you. I'll fix you something to eat and then I'm out of
here."

"You don't have to do that," Walter said and tried to rise up but a
wave of dizziness forced him back down.

"Sit. I'll throw something together. You rest."

Fifteen minutes later Krycek came back into the room. "Hey – you
still hungry?"

"I could eat this coffee table."

"How about some stew and a salad instead?" He grinned and reached a
hand down to Walter.

"It smells great!" Walter said as he took a seat at the kitchen table
across from Krycek.

They both ate heartily and lingered over coffee.

"So tell me, Skinner. What was it like growing up with a father and
mother? You also had a brother and sister; didn't you?"

Walter stopped with his coffee cup half way to his mouth and stared at
him. It had never occurred to him that Krycek might wonder about
something like that.

"Yes, I did have a brother and sister. It was – normal. Just like
everybody else I knew."

"I'll bet it was wonderful! Did your mom cook and bake and stuff like
that?"

"She did. She was quite the cook. In fact some of her baked goods
won prizes at the county fairs."

"And your father; did he take you places? Like a ball game or fishing
maybe?"

"Uh huh. When I was little he did. When I got older, I went with my
friends."

"And your sister; I'll bet she was beautiful and had lots of boy friends."

"I wouldn't say she was beautiful. She was … pretty and she had a few
boyfriends that hung around the place."

"And your brother; did the two of you have lots of fun together –
playing games and hanging out together?"

"Actually no. My brother was six years older than me and we were
totally different. In fact, my friends found it hard to believe he
was my brother. He was more into books and the only game I can ever
remember seeing him play was chess."

"You weren't into chess?"

"No. Not back then. I have played some years ago but growing up I
was only interested in sports."

"Aahhh. I'll bet you were on all the teams."

"I was. I was pretty good at it too. Didn't you ever play any sports?"

"Oh yeah, a few, but only during school hours. After school I always
had a job."

"I got my first job at fifteen. Our neighbor broke his leg one summer
and I mowed and baled hay for him. Made enough money to buy an old
pick up. Then, of course, I had to keep on finding odd jobs to buy
parts and keep the thing running." Walter said as he remembered well
that first vehicle he had ever owned.

"Your life could be a movie. It's so … perfect."

"Perfect?" Walter chuckled. "Hardly! Just look at me. I'm
fifty-four years old, in a dead-end job, I'm alone, living in a place
I hate. My life doesn't even approach being perfect."

"Is that the way you see yourself?" Krycek asked in disbelief. "I
don't see you that way at all. You've led the perfect life. You were
raised in a loving family, you were a war hero, you became the
youngest A.D. the Bureau has ever had and the only reason you're alone
is because you choose to be. You could have your choice of bed
partners with just the crook of your finger."

"I don't want just a bed-partner. I want … Hell; I don't know what I
want." Walter stood up, picked up his dishes and headed for the sink
with Krycek following behind.

"The point is you could have anyone you wanted."

"As much as anyone else could, I suppose." Walter conceded. "But I
don't want just someone. I want someone who could accept me as I am,
warts and all. I don't want to have to change myself to what someone
else thinks I should be. I've been down that road."

They rinsed their dishes off and put them in the dishwasher and
returned to the living room.

"Tell me what it was like for you." Walter asked as he sat on the
couch and Krycek paced near by. "I can't imagine what it was like,
being on your own at age ten."

"It's not a pretty story."

"I want to hear it – from the beginning."

"I waited until I could hear my foster father snoring and then I
climbed out my window. I jumped to a tree limb and lowered myself
down to the ground and started running. I didn't stop until I was on
the outskirts of town when I came to a truck stop. I saw a pickup
truck sitting there with a bunch of stuff in the back covered up with
a tarp. I climbed in, covered myself up and the next thing I knew we
were on the road. I went to sleep and before I knew it we were in
West Virginia. When the driver stopped at some place to eat, I jumped
out. I went around behind the restaurant to use the bathroom and saw
an employee coming out the back door and dumped a bag of garbage into
the dumpster. As soon as he went back in, I climbed into the dumpster
and had breakfast. I also stuffed my pockets with enough left over
food to last for a while. I didn't know where I was until I noticed
that all the license plates that I was seeing were different from what
I was used to and realized that I was now in a different state."

"I decided I wanted to go to New York City. I had seen a picture of
it in a magazine once and figured it was a big enough city. I could
get lost there and no one would ever find me. I was right."

"You were never caught?"

"No. I guess there were enough kids wandering around the city at all
hours that they didn't even notice one more."

"I still can't see how you managed to survive. You were just a little
kid."

"I was little but I've always had this survival instinct. I knew I
had to have food and I knew I had to have a way to get around so one
night when I was walking I found a bike. Someone had left it out on
the front porch. It had a bicycle lock on it and it took me forever
but I finally managed to spring the lock. From then on, I had wheels.
I tried at several fast-food places to find work but no one would hire
me. A couple of them did give me free burgers though. I kept going
and kept trying and one rainy night I found an alley door unlocked and
went inside. I was in the back room of a whore house. One of the
women found me and after she fed me and listened to my story she
agreed to let me stay there in return for doing some chores around the
place. She fixed a place for me in the store room. I stayed there for
six months, all that first winter, and then the place got raided. I
managed to hide in a cupboard until after the cops left then I took off."

"Where did you go next?"

"I wandered around the city, ate out of dumpsters, got a few little
jobs, like sweeping the sidewalks, washing windows, things like that.
I slept wherever I could find a place. In parked cars, in apartment
house hallways, and if I could manage to slip into a theater, I'd
sleep there. Sometimes I'd hide out in supermarket bathrooms until
after the store closed then I'd find something to eat and some place
to sleep. There were always places to find food if you didn't mind
scraping the ants off first and I always found a place to sleep."

"That's not much of a life. Didn't you ever think of going to the
authorities?"

"And be put back in that home again and maybe even back with that
bastard who used me? No! The thought never crossed my mind to go
back. Whatever happened to me had to be better than that." Krycek
leaned back against Walter's desk as he spoke.

"And you managed somehow to remain in school?"

"I did. I spent a lot of time at the library. I slept there a lot.
I found a map of the city there and found an elementary school near
by. I went in and enrolled that first fall. I told them my mother
was sick and couldn't come in so they just gave me papers for her to
sign. I took them to the library and worked and worked until I came
up with a signature that looked like an adults. When I took them back
the next day, they hardly even looked at them. Just gave them a quick
glance and assigned me a classroom."

"Who signed your report cards? You?"

"No. I was afraid that might be looked at a little closer so I had
one of the girls at the house sign them while I stayed there. After
that, I always managed to find someone willing to sign them for me."

"And no one ever noticed that the handwriting was different each time?"

"I would use the same person over and over again whenever I could. No
one ever mentioned anything about the signatures being different."

"You were lucky."

"I guess so, if you can call that lucky."

"Did you ever find any place to stay for any length of time?"

"I did. I spent three years living in the cellar of a bar on west One
Hundred and Fifty Fourth Street. I snuck in there one night when the
dish washer was in the alley taking a piss. It was cold and rainy and
I needed a place to get out of the weather. I had a bad cold and I
knew I needed to get inside somewhere. The guy came back in and
caught me. I told him my story and he showed me how to get down into
the cellar. There was a cot down there and some blankets. Someone
had obviously stayed down there before. The next morning, I met the
old man who owned the bar. He came down stairs and met me and after
listening to me, he agreed to let me stay just until I got over my
cold. He brought me food and some cough medicine. While I was down
there, I cleaned the place up. Stuff had been just stacked down there
for years. I organized everything and cleaned it all up. I guess it
impressed the old man and he let me stay on. A month or so later, the
dish washer quit and I talked the owner into letting me have the job."

"And you had it for three years?"

"I did. Until I graduated eight grade. By then I had gotten some
growth to me and was big enough to pass for sixteen. I had learned to
use the computer at the library and printed myself up a birth
certificate. That summer I was able to get jobs at McDonalds and Jack
In The Box. The old man took sick and sold the place. When he left,
so did I."

"You left with him?"

"No. He moved out west somewhere. I found a place where I could rent
a room. I had to print up some papers showing that I was an
emancipated minor but that was no problem. I just looked up the forms
in the library and printed them out."

"So you worked at fast food places all through high school?"

"No. Just my first two years. By my junior year, I had filled out
enough and gotten some strength to me and I got a job during the
summer working for a construction company. I made good money there.
Worked my ass off but the money was worth it. I made enough so that
I didn't have to work at the fast food places after school any more.
I worked out a budget and put aside enough to pay my rent through to
the next summer and stocked up on canned food. I had a little hot
plate in my room and a couple of pans and dishes and stuff that I'd
picked up at Goodwill and fixed my own meals. My classes all came
easy to me and I started making a little extra money tutoring other
students. When I wasn't doing that, I took Karate classes."

"By then you had already decided you wanted to be a cop?"

"Yeah. That was always in the back of my mind. I had checked out and
read every book on the subject that I could find. I started taking
some night time classes whenever I could afford it."

"So there never was a time in your life when you weren't working?"

"No. Not after the age of ten."

"I can see why you'd think my life was so perfect."

"I didn't mind the working. I was glad to have whatever job I could
get. What I minded the most was … being alone."

"That's understandable."

"Well it wasn't to me. I'd never had anyone so I couldn't understand
why I ached for just someone to talk to or to be with evenings. I
finally convinced myself that I didn't need anyone."

"That was self-preservation kicking in."

"Maybe. Whatever it was, it got me through."

"You've had a very difficult life. What I don't and can't understand
is why after working so hard all those years, you threw it all away to
join up with Smoking Man?"

Krycek grimaced at the name and turned his face away for a moment. "I
wanted … so badly to help, to make a difference. All I was getting
from my A.D. was coffee runs and wire taps and nonsense things that
any rookie could do."

"Well, you were a rookie."

"I know that! Now, I know that. But then, I was young and green and
Spender offered me a chance to help save the world and I jumped at it."

"And you didn't think you could go to your A.D. once you found out
what you'd gotten yourself into?"

"No. By then, I didn't know who to trust. I knew the old man had
powerful friends inside the Bureau; hell, he was there all the time."

"I wish you'd come to me."

"There was no way I could do that. By then both you and Mulder hated
me and I guess I got back at the two of you every way I could. I did
do some good though. I managed to pull both of your asses out of the
fire a time or two and you never even knew it."

"When?"

"It doesn't matter now. It's over and done with. Listen, if you're
feeling better now, I'll be on my way. I got something I need to take
care of." Krycek said as he headed for the door.

"I do feel better now that I've eaten; thank you for dinner. I wish
you would re-consider what you were planning on doing." He started to
get up but was too drained and just slumped back down.

"You all right? You want me to call Mulder or Scully?" Krycek asked
as he took a few steps back towards the couch.

"I'm fine. I'm just a little weak. I had some pills I was supposed
to take. I guess I should have taken them."

"Where are they?"

"I don't know – must be in my jacket pocket; upstairs."

Krycek took off up the stairs and was back in Skinner's closet when he
heard the commotion. First banging on the door and then the door was
kicked open. He made it out onto the upstairs landing just as two men
grabbed Skinner up off the couch and started slapping him around.

"Where is he?" they screamed at him. "We know you're hiding him. The
old woman told us you came for him." One of them was holding
Skinner's arms from behind and the other was raining blows on him

Krycek caught them from behind, knocking them all to the floor. He
grabbed the first guy with an arm around his throat and squeezed until
he passed out. Before he could let go the second guy had thrown
himself at them. Skinner managed to throw a glancing blow to the
guy's side taking enough steam out of him and giving Krycek time to
crawl out from under them both and levering a kick to the second guy's
throat. He grabbed Skinner by the arm and yanked him up and out the door.

They ran down the hallway and turned left. "Where you going?"
Skinner asked. "The elevator is that way."

"Maintenance elevator. Come on." He pulled at Skinner.

"What? The door's kept locked to that."

Krycek pulled out his pick as they ran down the hall. No sooner had
they stopped running, and then Krycek had the door open. Skinner
stepped inside and pressed the down button. They stood facing each
other gasping for breath.

"You should have stayed out of this, Skinner. They know you helped me
now. They'll never let up."

"No! I'm glad I did." Walter gasped. The door slid open and Krycek
peered out carefully.

They hurried to Skinner's car and got in, Krycek behind the wheel.
"I'm taking you to Mulder's. He'll be able to look after you."

"No! He's just settling in back at the Bureau, getting things back on
track with Scully. I don't want to drag him into this."

"Where then? Where can I take you that you'll be safe?" Krycek asked
as they pulled up on the highway.

"I don't know. I could call in and ask for a safe house, I guess."

"That's no good. I'm sure they know all the safe houses."

"Well where are you going? You can't go back to your apartment."

"I don't know. I didn't plan on this. I didn't think I'd be doing
any more running but I'll be damned if I'll let those bastards take me
out."

"Just keep driving then. Head west."

"West? Where west?" Krycek asked.

"I don't care. Just find some place where we can stop for the night
and get a few hours rest. Then we can decide what to do next."

They drove for about an hour when they spotted a Motel 6 and pulled
off the highway.

"I just realized I don't have my wallet with me. See if you can find
an ATM somewhere." Walter said.

"I've got some money. I do think we need to conserve it as much as
possible though. I think we should just get one room, something
around back. Would you be Ok with that?"

"Not a problem." Walter said, too tired to offer any objections.

"I just need to be where I can keep an eye on you in case our friends
show up." Krycek said as he pulled the car up in front of the office.
"Wait here. If you see anything suspicious, lay on the horn and I'll
be right out."

Minutes later they were in their room and Walter was stretched out on
one of the two queen sized beds.

"Here." Krycek said and nudged Walter on the shoulder.

"Huh?" Walter looked up to see Krycek handing him a glass of water
and two capsules. "Oh, my pills. You got them?"

"Yeah. I had just found them when I heard the commotion down stairs.
I stuck them in my pocket."

"Thanks." Walter took them gratefully and swallowed them down.

"How are you feeling?" Krycek asked as he sat on the edge of the bed
opposite Walter's.

"Not too bad. A little shaken up but I feel a hell of a lot better
now than I did an hour ago."

"Good. What you probably need is some sleep right now but if you feel
up to it, we really do need to talk."

Walter levered himself up into a sitting position. "I agree. We need
to talk. How much time do you think we have before they come after us?"

"I'm sure they're already looking for us. It's only a matter of time
before your car is spotted."

"That's what I was thinking. First thing we need to do is get rid of
the car."

"No. The first thing we need to do is find a safe place for you to
stay. I know these guys and I know who sent them. I can handle them
but I want you safe first."

"Who are they? Who sent them and why? If the old man's dead, what do
they care any more? Doesn't that mean the Consortium is out of business?"

"There was one guy in the group who was always challenging Spender for
leadership. He was one of the survivors. Those were his men in your
apartment tonight. The group was more or less finished but the old
man was trying to re-establish it so there are still a few around."

"Who is it? Who sent these men after you and why?"

"His name is Atkinson, Benjamin Atkinson – The Bulldog. That's what
everyone calls him. He's short, stocky, and mean. When he grabs hold
of an idea, he doesn't quit. Apparently, he's figured out that I …
eliminated Spender. He's probably afraid I'll come after him next so
he's making the first move."

"Does he have the power to pull something like this off? Taking over
the Consortium?"

"There were those in the group who always thought he should have been
the leader but somehow Spender always managed to hold on. Once the
rest of the group learns of Spender's death, I'm sure they will back
Bulldog and throw their power behind him."

"But why kill you? Didn't you just take out the one person that was
standing in his way?"

"Because I worked for Spender. He wouldn't want any of the old man's
team left to cause any trouble. And I'm the only one he had left."

"Maybe we should keep moving then." Walter said as he swung his legs
over the side of the bed and sat upright.

"No. Not just yet. We've got some time. They have probably just now
found out what kind of car you have and are looking around town for
it. It will be several hours before they realize you aren't in town
any longer. Maybe this would be a good time for you to go visit your
brother?"

"No. I'm not bringing all this shit down on him and his family.
Besides, once they realize I'm out of town, won't a relative be the
next place they'll check?"

"You're probably right. What about a friend somewhere, maybe an old
girl friend?"

"No. I think we need to stick together. We can watch each other's back."

"No, Skinner. I want you out of this." Krycek stood and began to pace.

"A few hours ago, you were on the verge of ending it all, Krycek. Now
there's someone out there willing to do the job for you. Why are you
running?"

"Well, it's an entirely different ball game now. If I decide to end
my life, I can and will when I choose to but I'll be damned if I'll
let some hired punks make that decision for me."

"I guess I can understand that. Where the hell are we anyway?"
Skinner asked as he got up and headed for the bathroom.

"Outskirts of Winchester." Krycek answered as he pulled the drapes
back with one finger and peeked out the window.

"Winchester. Ok. This town is big enough to have several ATMs. In
the morning, we'll get as much out as we can and see what we can get
for my car."

"Skinner, there's no need for you to do all that. I've been on the
run many times before. I can just grab a bus and head out somewhere
but first I want to make sure you're safe. I think we should call
Mulder."

Skinner ignored the comment and went on into the bathroom. When he
came out a few minutes later, he lay back down on the bed, kicking his
shoes off over the side. "Forget Mulder. This is something that I
need to do; remember?"

Krycek went into the bathroom, turned on the shower and called Mulder.

"Mulder"

"Mulder, its Alex Krycek. Please don't hang up. This is about Skinner."

"What do you know about Skinner? Do you know where he is?"

"Yes. He's with me. I need you to come here and get him."

"What's he doing at your place and why can't he come over here himself?"

"We're not at my place. It's a long story but we were at my place
when a couple of goons broke in and tried to kill me. Skinner saved
my life. Now they are after the both of us. I need you to come here
and take him someplace safe; stay with him until I can handle the
situation."

"Why don't you just bring him here? Is he hurt?"

"No he's not hurt. He got slapped around a little bit but he's Ok.
He's just out of the hospital though and I think he left too early.
He's pretty weak."

"Let me talk to him."

"No. He's asleep. He doesn't want to go back. He's got this crazy
notion in his head that he wants to help me … get these guys. I can
handle this, Mulder, but I can't do that and look after Skinner too.
Will you come?"

"Yeah, I'll come. This better not be some trick of yours, Krycek."

"It isn't, Mulder, I swear!"

"Ok. Give me the address."

"We're about seventy five miles out in the town of Winchester. We're
at the Motel 6 in room 214. It's around back. You can confirm that
if you want by calling the front desk. I registered us as brothers
under the names of Christian and Byron Chatsworth. I recommend you do
not have them ring the room as that would wake Skinner up and he would
be out of here before you arrive."

"How long are you going to be there?"

"I'll stall until you can get here. I suggested we needed a few hours
sleep. So hopefully, he'll sleep until you get here."

"And where are you that he can't hear you?"

"In the bathroom with the shower running."

"Ok. I could use a little night air. I'll head in your direction."

"Good. Thank you, Mulder."

Krycek closed his cell and pocketed it, then stripped off his clothes
and grabbed a quick shower. Skinner was snoring lightly when he came
back into the room but roused a bit.

"Krycek? Everything Ok?"

"Yeah. Get some sleep. It'll be dawn in a few hours and we can grab
a bite to eat and head out."

"Yeah, Ok." Skinner mumbled and dozed off again.




























CHAPTER FOUR

The pounding on the door brought them both instantly awake and to
their feet. Krycek jumped to the window with his gun drawn, he peeked
out to see Mulder standing there. He pulled the door open and let him in.

"Mulder? You called Mulder!" Skinner was angry.

"Yes, I called Mulder. You need to go back."

"I can take care of myself and I told you I'm not going back!"

"Sir? What's going on? Are you Ok?" Mulder walked in.

Krycek closed and locked the door behind him then said to Skinner.
"Yes you are! You're in no shape to be on the run. Mulder will keep
an eye on you until I get this thing taken care of."

"Krycek, I'm going with you! You can't do this alone."

"Yes I can. I work alone. And dragging you along will just slow me
down."

"I can keep up with you any day of the week!" Skinner argued angrily.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Mulder tried to get a
word in.

"Under normal circumstances, yes you could but you've been injured,
your reflexes are slowed. You could get us both killed."

"Then why don't we just keep heading west. Lay low until this thing
blows over?"

"Because I know these guys and it's not going to blow over. I can
take care of it."

"You'll get yourself killed if you try and do it alone. Is that what
you're trying to do? Have them finish the job you started but didn't
have the guts to finish?"

Krycek gritted his teeth in exasperation. "Skinner, you're not going
with me. Period. I'll take care of this and I'll get in touch with
Mulder and let him know when it's safe." Krycek grabbed his jacket.
"I'm outta here."

"No!" Skinner grabbed Krycek's arm. "Don't do this, Krycek. Let me
help you."

Krycek stared at Skinner for a minute then said to Mulder. "I'll be
in touch." He took the keys to Skinner's car out of his pocket and
tossed them to Mulder. "Don't let him come after me." Then he left.

"Krycek!" Skinner called after him but he was already headed down the
stairs. Skinner could hear the thunk, thunk, thunk of footsteps on
the metal stairway. A minute later he saw him crossing the parking
area and heading for the highway and then he was out of sight.

"Sir? Can you tell me what's happening?" Mulder stood at the railing
beside him.

"Krycek is planning on killing himself. I'm planning on stopping
him." Skinner went back inside and pulled on his shoes and jacket.
Mulder followed him in.

"So that's the good news. What I don't understand is why you're set
on stopping him. I say good riddance."

"I can't explain it, Mulder. I just need to keep him alive." Skinner
headed out the door with Mulder following behind.

"What is this 'thing' that he's going to take care of? Do we need to
call the authorities?"

"No. First I need a cup of coffee then I need you to see if you can
come up with anything on someone named Benjamin Atkinson a.k.a. 'The
Bulldog".

"I've never heard of anyone by that name. You want to fill me in?"

Skinner stopped in at the office to pay and found that his 'brother'
had paid in advance when they checked in. They walked next door to a
small restaurant and ordered coffee.

"I followed a hunch and found out where Krycek lives. I went there to
talk with him and found him about to commit suicide. We talked for a
few minutes then some goons showed up. We took off out the fire
escape. I wasn't feeling too well so Krycek drove me home.
Apparently they figured out who I was and where I lived. They came to
my place; we had a little go-round with them and took off. Now you
know as much as I do."

"No I don't. Why was Krycek going to kill himself? Who are these men
and why were they after him? And most important of all, if Krycek was
trying to kill himself, why did you stop him?"

"Would you stand by and do nothing if you saw someone putting the
barrel of a gun in his mouth?"

"If it was Krycek; maybe."

"No you wouldn't. You'd have done the same thing I did."

Their breakfast was placed in front of them and they both ate silently
for a while before Mulder asked. "He didn't say why these men wanted
to kill him?"

"He said that Smoking Man was dead and that these men probably thought
he'd done the deed."

"Did he?"

"Who knows?" Skinner shrugged. "Are you finished? We need to get on
the road."

"Where to?" Mulder asked as he followed Skinner out of the restaurant.

"Home. I need to change and get busy on this."

"You can't go home. It isn't safe."

"No place is safe as long as Bulldog is still looking for Krycek and me."

"You can't go to your place and they'll probably be looking for me by
now too. I know a place they'll never think to look. Come on. I'll
send someone back for your car later."


Mulder called ahead to his three friends and the door was unbolted at
their first knock and the Lone Gunmen let them inside.

"Hey Mulder," Frohike said as he opened the door. "Sheesh, Skinner,
you don't look too good."

"You got some place where he can lie down. He's just out of the
hospital a day or so." Mulder said.

"I'm fine. I don't need to lie down." Skinner scoffed.

"All that from his accident? Some of those bruises look pretty
fresh." Byers asked.

"He got into a bit of a tussle and now he's got some goons out to get
him." Mulder answered.

"Shit, Skinman! Aren't you a little old to be 'tussling'?" Langly asked.

Skinner ignored that crack and asked if they knew anything at all
about someone named Benjamin Atkinson a.k.a. "The Bulldog". All three
gunmen went to work at their computer stations and Mulder insisted
Skinner take a seat on the couch to wait and see what they came up
with. Skinner obeyed, reluctantly. He leaned back and in moments he
was asleep.

It was two hours later when Langly's loud, "I got him!" woke Skinner
up. He snapped alert and jumped up – wavering as a spell of dizziness
washed over him. Mulder came over and steadied him.

"Easy there." Mulder took Skinner's arm.

"I'm all right. What did you find?" He went over to join the others
who were leaning over Langly's chair and scanning his view screen.

"Former Mafia hit man and member of the Consortium for the last ten
years." Skinner read.

"Shit, Skinman. I hope you didn't lead him here." Langly said.

"There's no way they could get in here. You're perfectly safe here."
Byers assured him.

"Yeah, as long as he doesn't step outside." Frohike added.

"I was very careful. I'm pretty sure we weren't followed." Mulder
said but no one was all that convinced.

"What do you want to do?" Mulder asked.

"I don't know. Krycek said he'd take care of it." Skinner began to pace.

"Holy fuck! Krycek's involved in this too? We might as well kiss our
ass's goodbye." Langly said.

"Do you think he can?" Mulder asked Skinner and ignored Langly.

"He seems to think he can. And right now that's all we've got."

"Ok, listen up people." Byers announced. "We don't open that door
for anybody! No deliveries, no pizza, not for Mother Teresa herself.
That door stays locked until this mess is over with."

Everyone nodded their heads in agreement. For three solid days they
paced the floor and waited. Mulder checked his phone repeatedly to
make sure it was working but no word came from Krycek.

Just after dawn on the fourth day, they were standing around drinking
coffee when someone knocked on the door. They all froze. Frohike
turned on their security camera and saw Krycek standing there.

"Oh shit! It's Krycek!" Langly said. "I'm outta here." He went
into the back storage room and hid.

Skinner was working at the locks trying to unfasten them all when
Frohike stopped him.

"Wait a minute. Are you sure you can trust him? I mean – it's Krycek!"

"Yes, I trust him. Get this damn door open!" Skinner said and Byers
un-did the last of he locks.

The door swung open and Krycek came in looking like he hadn't slept
since they had last seen him.

"It's Ok. Everything's taken care of. You're safe now." He said as
they closed the door behind him and locked it back up.

"Are you sure?" Mulder asked. "How did you find us?"

"What happened?" Skinner asked.

"I figured this was where you'd come. It's not like you have all that
many friends, Mulder." And to Skinner, he said, "The situation has
been … handled." His eyes blinked a few times and he went to his knees.

"Krycek!" Skinner called and grabbed him. As he lowered him to the
floor, Krycek's jacket fell open and they all saw the blood at the
same time. "Jesus!" Skinner said and picked him up and placed him on
the couch.

"What's happening?" Langly couldn't stand not knowing and poked his
head out around the doorway.

"He's out like a light." Frohike said. "And he's bleeding all over
the place."

"Get some towels." Skinner ordered as he pulled the shirt up and saw
that Krycek had wrapped a towel around his middle that was now soaked
through with blood. Skinner opened it and saw a long gash in Krycek's
side that had two pieces of tape across it. The tape wasn't helping
much and the blood was oozing out of the wound.

Skinner took the towel handed him and placed it over the wound and
applied pressure. "Get Scully over here. Tell her to bring her bag."

Mulder got on the phone and made the call. It was thirty minutes
before Scully arrived and Skinner sat where he was on the side of the
couch holding the towel over the wound.

"What is it? What's wrong? Who's hurt?" Scully came through the
door full of questions.

"It's Krycek," Mulder said.

"Krycek? Why not just call an ambulance then?" Scully said as she
looked down at him.

"Knife wound, Scully. He needs stitches." Skinner said as he lifted
the towel and showed her the wound.

"How long has he been unconscious?" Scully lifted up one of Krycek's
eyelids and asked.

"Since about ten seconds before Mulder called you." Skinner said and
returned pressure to the wound while Scully opened her bag and put her
gloves on then he got up and she took over.

"I need more towels and some bottled water." In less than a minute
they appeared at her side. She rolled up one towel and placed it half
way under him at his side. Then uncapped the bottle and poured the
water into the wound to clean out any debris from the fabric of his
shirt.

A loud moan escaped his lips and his eyes fluttered opened.

"Just relax, Krycek. I'll have you stitched up in a few minutes."

She pulled out a syringe and Krycek asked nervously, "What's that?"

"Novocain." and without further discussion she gave him several
injections around the wound.

True to her word, she had him stitched up and bandaged in less than
ten minutes. "You've lost a lot of blood so you're going to be weak
for some time. You really need a transfusion."

"No, I'm fine. Thanks Scully." He tried to sit up and Skinner
reached down and gave him a hand.

"I don't suppose any of you can tell me how he got that wound?"
Scully looked around the room. "I didn't think so."

"Come on. Let's get out of here." Skinner said as he helped Krycek
to his feet. And then to the others he said, "Scully, Mulder, guys; I
owe you."

"He really should be in a hospital." Scully warned. "He's lost a lot
of blood."

"I'll look after him." Skinner said as they walked to the doorway,
Skinner supporting a stumbling Krycek all the way.

"Sir?" Mulder stopped them, looked at Krycek then back to Skinner, "Why?"

"Because he needs looking after and I don't see any other volunteers."
It came out a bit more cynical than he actually felt but he couldn't
tell them the real reason.

"So where are we going?" Krycek asked once they were in the car and
on their way.

"My place. I've got two bedrooms, I can look after you there, and
it's safe."

"No offense, Skinner, but your place is as easy to get into as any
place else."

"But you said the threat was over. You said you handled it."

"I took out Bulldog and his two goons. You are safe from them but no
telling who else could be after me and now you."

"Shit! Where do you suggest then?" Skinner asked exasperated. "You
want to go back to the Lone Gunmen's place?"

"Oh God no!"

"Where then?"

"Just drop me off at a bus stop somewhere. I can take care of myself."

"No you can't! Not right now. You're pale as a ghost which means
you're weak. You can hardly walk. You can't be alone right now."

"Skinner, you've done enough."

"I'm not going to just dump you someplace."

Krycek leaned his head against the window and quit arguing. He was
too weak to continue.

Skinner drove until he firmed up his idea then he pulled off the
highway and into a Ford dealership parking lot.

"What are we stopping for?" Krycek roused a bit.

"We need a new vehicle."

"They will be able to trace it."

"You have a better idea?"

"Yeah. In my boot." He lifted his left foot up and tried to fiddle
with the heel but was too weak.

"What? What's in your boot?" Skinner asked.

"The heel – turn it." He held his boot up.

Skinner took hold of the heel and turned it. A small plastic baggie
fell out and inside were several credit cards.

"What are these? Stolen?"

"No. They are all on a Swiss bank account – totally untraceable."

Skinner flipped through and pulled out an American Express card with
some corporation name on it. On the back was a scribbled name with
CEO after it. "Are these any good?"

"Uh huh. There's a company I.D. card too and a driver's license for
me with that name."

"And these are untraceable? Are you sure?"

"Positive. Go on in, pick out what you want and then come get me.
I'll go in and pay for it. You can have someone come pick up your car."

"Ok. Are you sure you'll be all right out here? It shouldn't take
too long. I know exactly what I want."

"I'm fine – just tired. Go on." Krycek said and after taking a quick
look around the parking lot, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

It took forty five minutes but Skinner finally came back out. He had
found nothing in the new vehicles that he wanted and when he looked in
the used car section, he found it – a four wheel drive pickup with a
camper shell attached on the back. It was only two years old and in
great condition and only had thirty thousand miles on it.

He came back outside and got Krycek.

"I told the salesman that you had a hangover. Just follow my lead and
we should be out of here in a minute."

"Whatever."

It was more like ten minutes but once Krycek showed his I.D. and
credit card, it was all finished but to sign the documents. While he
was doing that, Skinner put in a call to Mulder and asked him to make
arrangements to pick up his car. He left his keys with the salesman
to give to Mulder when he got there.
Moments later they were loading up in the pickup.

"Why a pickup?" Krycek asked.

"It's four-wheel drive and it's what we need for what I have in mind.
We've got a couple more stops to make then we can take off."

Krycek just stared at him for a moment then gave it up; too tired to
pursue it further.

The next stop was Sears.

"Sears? What do you need here?"

"A ton of stuff. I'll be back as soon as I can but it's libel to take
about an hour. Will you be all right that long?"

"Uh huh. You need me to come in and pay for stuff?"

"No. They've got an ATM inside. I'll draw out cash and pay for the
goods that way."

"Use the credit card. Get as much cash as the machine will allow."

"All right. What about pin number?"

"It's the second number in each grouping of numbers on the card."

"Ok. I'll be back as soon as I can. Rest now and see if you can get
some sleep. It's pretty safe here, lots of cars around and right over
there is Mall Security." He pointed over to a small tower set up in
the parking lot.

"Go for it." Krycek said and settled back in his seat.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, Skinner came back out pushing a
large shopping cart and pulling another. Krycek stared in wonder as
Skinner began unloading things into the back of the truck. Some of
the stuff he tied on top on the luggage rack. Then he got in and
headed out again.

"I had no idea you were a shopaholic, Skinner." Krycek gave him a
weak grin.

"One more stop and we're good to go." Skinner grinned back.

Next he pulled into a Wal-Mart parking lot.

"Wal-Mart?" Krycek asked.

"Uh huh. First I've got to make some room in the back." Skinner got
out and climbed into the back. He dug around back there for a while
then came around to the passenger side door and opened it.

"Come on."

"Huh?" Krycek asked. "You need me to go in with you?"

"No. Come on." He helped Krycek out of the truck and took him around
back to the door. He opened it and Krycek looked in and saw a blue
air mattress inflated and set up with a sleeping bag opened up on it
and even a pillow.

"Get in."

"That's for me?" Krycek was astonished. "You didn't have to do that."

"You can't make a long ride sitting up. You're side must be killing you."

"As a matter of fact, it hurts like hell but you still didn't need to
do this."

"Well it's done so get in." Skinner helped him climb in the back and
lie down. He shoved all the rest of the stuff as far to the other
side as he could.

Krycek groaned as he laid down, one hand holding his side.

"How's the temperature in here? You want one of these windows opened?"

"No. It's fine. This is great, thank you."

"Ok, good. I'll be back as soon as I can; thirty or forty minutes, tops."

"K." Krycek sighed and started to relax.


It seemed like just a moment or two later, Skinner was back.

"It's just me." Skinner knocked on the door and opened it.

He then started shoving bags and bags of supplies in. He stopped long
enough to open a bottle of water and a package of Tylenol and shook
three out and handed them to Krycek.

Krycek gulped them down in amazement and stared in disbelief as
Skinner continued to fill up the back of the truck and then pile even
more goods into the passenger side of the cab.

"All set?" He asked Krycek in the back.

"Uh huh," came the sleepy answer.

"Ok. We're off."


























CHAPTER FIVE

It was several hours later when Skinner pulled off the highway and the
change in vibration woke Krycek up. He leaned up and asked, "We've
left the highway. Did you see something?"

"No. We're fine. We're on a dirt road and back in here a ways we're
going to turn off. There's a river around here if I can find it in
the dark."

"Well just don't drive into it. I'm in no shape for a swim." Krycek
said and lay back down.

"I won't." Skinner said as he pulled off the dirt road and headed back
into the trees. Branches scraped the side of the truck and crunched
under the tires. The ride became a lot rougher.

"You sure you know where you're going?" Krycek asked after they drove
for quite a while.

"Uh huh. More or less." Skinner answered as he maneuvered around
another sapling.

"It's the more or less that scares me." Krycek said.

"We're heading due north. If my calculations are right, the river
should be approximately ten miles off the road. We're going in about
eight or nine miles. We should be there shortly."

"Good." Krycek said as they went over another big bump and the truck
tilted almost throwing him off his bed.

"This looks pretty good right here." Skinner stopped and got out. He
came around back and opened the door. He rummaged through some bags.
First thing he found was a saucer sized round light fixture. He
stuck batteries in it, peeled off the backing and stuck it to the
ceiling of the camper shell and turned it on. Next he pulled out a
battery powered lantern, assembled it and turned it on. "I'll take a
look around and be right back." He reached under a stack of bags and
brought out an axe.

Krycek watched in wonder. A few minutes later he heard some hacking
with the axe and Skinner coming back.

"This spot will do. You rest and I'll get camp set up." He climbed
up on the side and untied the boxes that he had secured on the luggage
rack and brought them down. He opened the first one and hauled out a
big wad of canvas, some poles and an instruction book.

Forty five minutes later, after hauling all the supplies in, he came
to the back door of the camper and wiping the sweat off his face with
his jacket sleeve he said. "All right – I've got it set up. Come on.
Let's get you out of there."

He climbed inside and helped Krycek to sit up. He did so with a
groan. "I'll give you some more Tylenol as soon as we get you
inside." That helped Krycek to move a little faster but not by much.
He picked up Krycek's sleeping bag and pillow and carried them in too.

Krycek stood in the doorway, amazed. It was a large three room tent –
a main room in the middle with two smaller rooms off to each side.
The room off to the right, he had set up a port-a-potty, a table with
a large bowl and a five gallon jug of water and a lantern hanging from
the center support. In the middle room he had two four foot long
tables set up across the back of the tent. One was stacked with
canned goods and other groceries and the other had a five gallon water
jug with a spigot at the bottom, a camp stove, and two lawn chairs
sitting in front. A lantern hung from the center support there as well.
The other small room, off to the left, also had a lantern lighting it
and had one air mattress over to the side. Skinner placed Krycek's
sleeping bag and pillow down on it and helped Krycek to lie down.

He then went back out to the truck, turned the lights off, got the
other air mattress out and locked it up. He went inside the tent and
zipped the door closed. He placed the other air mattress in the small
room across from Krycek's then opened out his sleeping bag and placed
it and his pillow on top.

"This is amazing, Skinner. I never expected anything like this."
Krycek was beyond exhausted. He could hardly move he was so weak and
in pain.

"I'll get that Tylenol for you and then I'll get some dinner started."

"I'm not hungry. But I do need that Tylenol." Krycek said.

"You need to eat something." Skinner said from the other room as he
pulled out another bottle of water from his stash of supplies under
the table. "How about just some soup – do you think you could handle
that?" He opened the bottle of water and handed Krycek the pills.

"I can try." Krycek said as he gulped down the pills with several
swallows of water.

"Good. You're weak enough as it is. You can't get your strength back
if you don't eat."

He went back out into the other room and heated up some chicken noodle
soup. He brought it into Krycek and helped him to sit up.

"Skinner, why are you doing all this? None of this is necessary."

"I'm doing it for two reasons -- first because I want to and second
because you need someone to help you out right now."

"But that's what I don't understand. Why do you want to help me?
After all that I've done to you!"

"I'm beginning to think now that you had your reasons. I'm not saying
that I agree with them, but you did have your reasons."

Krycek let it go for a bit as he sipped the steaming soup from his
mug. "This is really good. Thank you."

"You're welcome. If you want anything else, just ask. I bought a
week's supply."

"A week? Do you think it's safe to stay in one place that long?"

"This place is pretty remote. I'll check tomorrow and see if anyone
else is around. I'll go back the way we came and see if I can tell if
anyone else has traveled that dirt road after we did."

"You've been here before? You knew about this place?"

"Years ago I came up here fishing. That river has some tasty trout in
it – pretty good sized too."

"And you know how to do all that stuff? I mean catching and cleaning
them and all that?"

"Sure. Haven't you ever cleaned a fish?"

"Uh uh. I've cooked fish before but it came from the supermarket
already cut up. All I had to do was bread it and bake it."

"Well we don't have an oven so if I catch any; we'll have to fry it."

"You got fishing gear too?"

"I did. And in those bags at the foot of our beds are two changes of
clothes for each of us, plus shaving kits and toiletries."

"You didn't forget a thing."

"I tried not to." Skinner drank the remains of his soup and reached
for Krycek's empty mug. He stood and carried them into the small room
set up for the bathroom and rinsed them out in a large bowl he had
placed there on the table for their sink. Then he brought the pan in
and washed it out as well. He turned the lights off in the two other
rooms and came back into the sleeping area.
Krycek was lying down.

"Let me take a look at that bandage and see if it needs changing."
Skinner asked.

Krycek pushed the sleeping bag back and pulled up his shirt. "I think
its fine. It's not bleeding any more."

"I think it looks Ok for now. We'll wait until it warms up tomorrow
and get you cleaned up. We can change it then and get you into some
clean clothes. That's going to make you feel better."

Krycek just shook his head and stared at him. "I don't know why
you're doing all this but I want you to know that I'm grateful."

Skinner sat down on his bed and pulled his shoes off and got into bed.
He lay there listening to the sounds of the woods for a while. He
heard Krycek moving around a bit at first then settle in and went to
sleep. Once he was assured that Krycek was sleeping he let himself
relax and in moments he was sound asleep.

They awoke in the morning to bright sunlight and the sound of some
small creature scampering over the top of their tent. They both sat
upright at the sound and grinned when they realized what it was.

"Probably a squirrel," Skinner commented. "How's the side?"

"Don't ask." Krycek said as he held his side.

"I don't have to ask. I can tell by your face." Skinner stood up and
pulled some clothes out of his new sports bag at the foot of his bed.
"I'll be back in a minute then I'll help you into the bathroom."

"Fine." Krycek nodded.

Skinner went into their small bathroom, did his business then, after a
quick wash up, he changed his clothes – donning jeans, tee shirt,
sweatshirt, and boots. He tossed his soiled clothing into the corner
for later and came back and got Krycek.

While Krycek was in the bathroom, Skinner started a pot of coffee.

"Here, sit down." Skinner said and pulled out one of the lawn chairs
as Krycek came stumbling out of the bathroom.

He sank into the chair with a groan and gratefully accepted the
Tylenol that Skinner offered and gulped them down.

Skinner poured them each a steaming cup of coffee then got out two
frying pans and started breakfast. Out of the large ice chest, he
pulled a package of sausage and a dozen eggs. He dumped the sausage
in one pan and the entire dozen eggs into the other. In minutes he
was piling two plates full and handed one to Krycek.

"I seldom eat this good and never when I'm on the run." Krycek said
around the first mouthful.

"You really need to eat to get yourself built back up. We've got eggs
and meat that will last a couple of days then the ice will be gone and
we'll be back to canned goods and oatmeal for a while."

"This is delicious." Krycek said as he devoured his food.

"Good." Skinner said as he poured them each another cup of coffee.
"After breakfast, I'll help you clean up and change clothes. Then
I'll go out and have a look around – see how far we are from the
river. I could hear it last night while I was setting up camp so it's
not too far."

While they were eating, Skinner put his biggest pot of water on to
heat. With breakfast over with, Skinner first pulled out two little
propane heaters and set them up. Then he got out Krycek's bag and
started pulling clothing out. By then the water was warm enough and
Skinner brought in the large bowl from the bathroom filled with fresh
water and set about cleaning Krycek up.

First the leather jacket came off, then the shirt and undershirt.
Krycek was stiff and sore and stifled groans with every movement. His
back and chest and both shoulders had large bruises. It was obvious
he had been in a vicious fight.

Skinner dipped the washrag into the warm water and soaped it up and
started on Krycek's back. "Can we take this thing off?" Skinner
tugged on the straps to Krycek's prosthesis.

"I'd rather not. It's waterproof – don't worry about it."

"It's not like I've never seen amputees before, Krycek. I've done a
lot of volunteer work at veteran's hospitals. Aren't you supposed to
take it off for a couple of hours every day?"

"I heard that but I never did it."

"You'd be a lot more comfortable if you did."

"In my business I can't afford to get comfortable."

"I thought you were out of the business now."

"That's what I was trying to do when you interrupted me with your
little fairy tale about Saint Peter."

"That was no fairy tale, Krycek. It really happened."

"Well I'm sure something happened to you, Skinner, or you'd be the one
I'd be running from instead of the one helping me."

"Things change. People change." Skinner said as he worked his way
around and was now soaping up Krycek's chest, stomach and arm.

"You really think people can change?"

"I know I've changed since my accident. Maybe sometimes people just
need to be hit over the head to make them realize they need to make
changes in their lives."

"Or maybe sometimes people just no longer care."

"Then it's up to someone else to make them learn to care again."
Skinner said as he rinsed Krycek off then added, "Can you stand up
now? I'd like to get a look at that wound."

Krycek stood up, holding on the chair for support while Skinner peeled
the bandage off.

"It looks pretty good." Skinner said as he opened a bottle of
Hydrogen Peroxide and splashed some over the wound. He dabbed it dry,
sprayed on some antiseptic and re-bandaged it.

He pulled a tee shirt out of the plastic wrapping it was in and
slipped it over Krycek's head then a sweat shirt on top.

"Oh, that feels good." Krycek pulled the sweat shirt down into place.

"We need to get you back into bed now so I can clean the rest of you."
Skinner said as he helped Krycek back into the bedroom area.

"I can do the rest, Skinner."

"No you can't. You're too weak, you can barely walk. Trust me,
Krycek, you've got nothing that I haven't already seen and in a lot
worse condition than you are."

"No one has bathed my since I was a baby."

"Well, it's time then." Skinner said as he helped Krycek lie down and
he reached for his jeans.

Krycek grabbed his hand and stopped him. "You don't have to do this."

"I thought we were passed that. You need it done and I'm doing it.
Period!" Skinner wrestled his hand free and undid Krycek's jeans and
pulled them down and off. He did the same with the underwear and
socks and tossed them into a pile. He then went back into the outer
room and brought in the water, soap and towel and got busy.

In minutes he had Krycek's bruised body washed and into clean
underwear, sweat pants, warm socks, back in bed and covered up.

"There, now tell me you don't feel better!" Skinner challenged.

"I do feel better." Krycek said with an exhausted grin. "I can see
it's useless to argue with you when you have your mind set on something."

"It is! Now I've got work to do. I'm going to take our clothes down
to the river and wash them out. I'll string a line up in the bathroom
area. It'll probably take a couple days for them to dry inside but I
think it's safer than hanging them outside where they might be seen."

Krycek shook his head in agreement.

"Oh here." Skinner tossed a plastic bag over to Krycek. "I picked up
some magazines and some paperbacks. Is there anything else I can get
for you before I take off?"

"I need my gun and maybe a bottle of water."

"I'll get it." Skinner said and went into the other area and brought
back Krycek's gun that he had taken off him and grabbed up another
bottle of water. "Anything else?"

"That about covers it. I've got everything here but cable TV and I
guess I can do without that for a while."

Skinner grinned at the weak joke and gathered up Krycek's pile of
dirty clothes and went out into the other room. Before he left, he
washed their breakfast dishes and stacked them back on the table.

The stream was a ten minute walk from their camp. Skinner took his
boots and socks off, rolled up his jeans and waded out into the stream
a bit. The water was icy cold but crystal clear out in the middle and
one by one he rinsed out their clothes and replaced them in the
plastic bags he brought them in. When he was finished he wiped his
feet dry with a towel, put his socks and boots back on, rinsed the
towel out and headed back to camp.

Krycek heard him coming and grabbed up his gun. Skinner suspected he
might be a bit edgy so he called out. "I'm back. It's just me."

Krycek put his gun back under the covers and took up his book again.

"Everything all right?" Skinner asked sticking his head into the
sleeping area.

"Uh huh." Krycek answered, not looking up from his book.

Skinner got on with his business and strung a line of rope across the
small bathroom area and hung their clothes across it to dry. He
unzipped the windows in the small room so there would be some cross
air circulation.

Next he picked up his axe and went outside. He started back into the
woods and chopped down several larger branches off trees and dragged
them back to the campsite and hefted them up over the top of the tent,
tying them into place. It took him several trips but he managed to
completely cover the top and sides of their tent and the pickup. Now
the tent and truck were invisible even from the air.

When he finished and came back inside, Krycek was sleeping with the
book opened across his chest. Skinner got a new pot of coffee going,
opened a bottle of water for himself and sat down and relaxed. He
couldn't help but think that if none of this had happened he'd be
sitting behind his desk going over a stack of reports. He thought
about their situation and wondered just how much danger they were in,
how much time they had before they would have to leave.

He felt pretty secure there. They had fresh water, he was sure there
was fish in the stream, and as long as the weather held out, they
should be comfortable enough. He could always make a quick run back
into town if they need more groceries. They were about thirty minutes
drive from the nearest town so he could make it there and back in
little over an hour and stock up if they decided to stay on longer.

He pulled the long narrow box out from under the table and opened it.
He was glad he thought of the hunting rifle and took it out of the
box and checked it out. He heard a bit of noise from the next room
and went in to check on Krycek. He was greeted with a gun in his face.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry. I heard what I thought was a gun being cocked."
Krycek apologized.

"You did." Skinner held up his new rifle. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean
to wake you."

"It's Ok. I just didn't know you had a rifle."

"I picked it up along with all the camping gear. I used my F.B.I.
credentials so I didn't have to worry about the waiting period. I
figured the last thing anyone after us would do, would be to take the
time to check out any fire arms I might have purchased."

"I'm sure you're right about that." Krycek said and held his side.

"Did you pull a stitch?" Skinner asked.

"No, I don't think so. I just need to get up and move around a little."

"Good. That's a sign you're getting your strength back. How about a
short walk around outside? I can show you how well covered our camp
site is and if you feel up to it, we can take a walk to the river.
It's about ten minutes from here."

"I think I could handle that."

Skinner drug out Krycek's boots and helped him into them then helped
him into a thick hunting jacket and they headed out. Just outside the
tent, Krycek stopped and had a good look around. "This looks great.
I didn't even see the truck at first. You did a good job."

"I took only low branches off the bigger trees and only one branch off
per tree so it wouldn't be noticeable if someone was looking down from
above."

"Good idea." Krycek said and they headed in the direction of the
running water they could clearly hear in the distance.

"It's an easy walk and there are some boulders at the waters edge
where you can sit and rest up before we head back. I think we're
pretty safe here."

"This is really nice." Krycek said as they walked out into the
clearing at the water's edge.

"Is this where you camped before?"

"No. I didn't camp here before. I just went fishing. But I think I
was more over in that direction farther to the east."

"Stream looks clear."

"It does. I bought some purification tablets we can use when we run
out of our bottled water and the water I drew from that gas station
where I stopped to fill up our water jugs."

"You really did think of everything; didn't you?" Krycek grinned as
he took a seat on a boulder.

"I hope so." Skinner said hoping it was true. "You know, when I was
out here earlier, I saw some rabbit tracks over in that direction.
You ever have rabbit stew?"

"You're kidding, right? You eat bunny rabbits?"

"These are not bunny rabbits and they make a great stew. So does
squirrel if you know how to season them properly."

"And I suppose you do and I suppose in that mountain of groceries you
bought you have just the right seasonings?" Krycek grinned.

"I do." Skinner said proudly. "We won't starve out here. That's for
sure. I've got some steaks and some chicken in the ice chest and
another package of sausages. That will last us today and tomorrow.
After that, I'll try out my new fishing gear and maybe set out a few
small critter traps."

"And you bought some of those too?"

"No. They're easy to make. I guess you never were a boy scout."

Krycek laughed. "No – I was too busy learning urban survival to worry
about surviving in the woods."

Skinner grinned. "There's probably some larger game in these woods
too. I haven't walked too far down the bank but if we did, I'll bet
we'd see where some other animals came down for a drink."

"You've gone to an awful lot of trouble for me. Saint Peter would be
proud of you." Krycek teased.

"I didn't do it for Saint Peter. I did it because I wanted to and
because you needed, once in your life, for someone to give you a
helping hand without asking for anything in return." Skinner answered
seriously.

"You really think you saw Saint Peter – had a conversation with him
about me?"

"I do. It's already changed the way I think about you. I always
considered you some kind of … rabid animal. I never really stopped to
think 'why' you left the Bureau and joined Spender's group. I guess
it never occurred to me that you might have been tricked or more or
less forced into it."

"I wasn't forced. I went into it with my eyes wide open. It just
turned out that most of what the old man told me was a pack of lies.
And for some stupid reason, I felt like I was worthy of being singled
out for these special missions he was sending me on. I never
questioned them. I just did what I was told. Hell, Skinner. I
thought he held some big position there at the Bureau or maybe with
the C.I.A. – some place of power in the government. He was always
there around the Hoover. I saw him nearly every day."

"I know. I have no idea how he managed to walk in and out of there so
freely but as far as I know, he has no government status at all."

"Had." Krycek corrected him.

"Had." Skinner agreed. "For what it's worth – I'm glad he's gone."

"I should have done it years ago. I just kept hoping …"

"Hoping that we would somehow manage to trap him and take him out for
you?"

"Something like that. Then after a while, it became obvious that if
he went down that way, I'd go down with him."

"You could have turned State's evidence against him. We could have
protected you."

"I was never offered that opportunity. Besides, you might have been
able to protect me through the trial and then afterwards what? I'd be
given a new identity and ended up a shoe salesman out west somewhere?
No thanks."

"So you're going to take the coward's way out and kill yourself?"

Krycek didn't like that and he had killed people for lesser insults
but he merely stood and headed back towards camp.

They didn't speak until they reached camp then Skinner said as he held
the door flap open for Krycek to enter, "If you take yourself out,
then the old bastard wins. Don't you see that?"

Krycek said nothing and went inside and lay down on his bed.