X-Files Story - A New Sun [PG13] Mulder/Krycek
Title: A New Sun
Author: Dr. Ruthless
Rating: PG, slashy, M/K
A/N: This was written for the X-Files Lyric Wheel. Thanks to Lady Midath for the lyrics. I vowed when I read them over that I was NOT going to write a William story. I didn't think I was going to write this one either, but there ya go. The lyrics on which it's based are at the end of the story.
Sunburst of pain between my eyes blinds me. Agony of bursting vessels, and the trickle of blood makes my cry thick and inchoate. Somewhere, I see a light in the sky. The vision fuzzes, fades, focuses into the brightly lit airport, and Fox Mulder's face, twisted in fury.
We dance, and as ever, violence is the medium whereby we express our love for each other. The dance is never ending, always harsh always short, never sweet.
My head reels, and there is blood on my upper lip. Stumbling into the bathroom, I look at myself and wince. Fuck me, I am pathetic, and it's all down to that one man who somehow seems to have been sent to drag me down.
I was fine until they sent me to fuck him over. I was perfect. I had it all - a fast-track to the top - to the top and the money and the good life.
Then Mulder.
So what now? He's out there, and I've never been able to kill him - anyone else but not Fox, not Mulder with those dazed blue-grey eyes and idiot savant way of making me crazy by divining my intentions without any visible means of knowing how, or what, or who.
So he's out there, and I'm in here repairing the traces of the dust-up we just had. Man, he slammed me with something. I thought I was home-free with everything I needed, and blam! Stars and stripes and oh, say, I could all of a sudden see that fucking banner in amongst the little planets and the tweeting birds that flashed around me.
When I came back to my senses, he was choking the shit out of me, and his gun was in my gut, and all I could do was dare him. Do it to me, Mulder. Just do it, and we both know that I didn't just mean fire the gun.
So he's hot, and I've got a jones. Bite me. The world can bite me. He can bite me twice. Fuck, what will I do? I can't kill him, not yet.
I lick at the blood on my lip and then wander over to the urinal to express my feelings in the best possible way. Piss on you, Mulder. Piss all over you.
I don't hear the door. I don't hear the feet approaching, and then I do. Then, I look over to my side and don't believe my eyes, because it's her; it's a woman, and why, and she's throttling me while I dangle here, face pressed against the wall, with my dick hanging out and piss down my own leg.
Then something. I don't quite know what, but something.
The world stops. Seconds tick by like tears from the eyes of time. There's something happening to me, and it's inexorable. It seems like it was always meant to happen, always going to be my fate.
Something inside me, seething through my long veins as if it's taking stock of what it can use. I feel the flood of warmth in my still dripping dick, the tensing of my balls, the flutter inside my belly and the singing burn of a presence flickering through my limbs. She stands there, dull eyed and empty now, while I take it all in and make it mine.
It makes me his.
Who are you?
I am here to join with you, to become you.
There's a momentary flickering, and then the world goes away. I'm lost in darkness, trapped somehow in a place that isn't real, where I can't see, can't touch, don't know what's going on. I panic, screaming soundlessly until I sense something touch me, fill me.
There's a sudden flicker, a brightness that's burning, Oh...it's almost blinding me, and I can't cover my eyes; my hands won't obey. When the pain retreats, I can see again. I'm walking now, and there's Mulder, nemesis, lover, executioner, there he is, whatever he might be to me.
"Feel better?" he asks, and the creature in me answers him.
"Like a new man."
We walk together, Mulder and I-golem, made from oil and horror, full of secrets and shame. I gaze at him, the creature within me apparently as fascinated by his full mouth and thoroughbred body as I. I feel a flood of lust fill me, and although I welcome it, it is not my own.
"What are you looking at?" Mulder is faintly irritated.
"I am studying you." It's my voice, just enough sultry meaning behind the words to tug at his cock-strings, but it isn't me doing the talking. I feel faint. Here, in this limbo of not cold and not pain and not anyfuckingthingatall, I feel cold.
"*Studying* me?" I can tell that Mulder doesn't like the sound of that. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It means that I do not quite understand, but that I would like to." Better. He'll be intrigued by that, and he's less likely to punch first if he's interested. I send a mental congratulation to the fringes of my existence and wonder if it's heard. Mulder looks at me in that semi-dazed way he has when he's putting zero and zero together to make the requisite number for complete solution. Finally, he brightens up.
"Jesus, I must have hit you harder than I thought." He's confused. I like that. What I don't like is that the thing riding me won't shut up, and it's my body that's going to get smacked about when Mulder finally loses his rag.
"You hit this body hard, but that I understand," it says. "What I do not understand, is why you conceal what you know to be true."
He's as much at sea as I am. His voice loses certainty, although he's going for flippant when he responds. "Krycek, you're worrying me now. Do I need to take you to a hospital? And what are you talking about? Conceal what?"
"You conceal your desire for this body with a mask of violence." And there it is. He's going to knock the poo out of me, and I don't have any way of stopping it. I shiver inside and my cold feeling gets colder. Time ticks on, dripping like the blood that oozes from a gut shot. I wait for Mulder to lose it. He doesn't.
"Ha! Boy, you've got a pretty high opinion of yourself." He's sneering now; not a good sign, although he hasn't reached the flashpoint yet. I try for control of my limbs, but nothing changes. I have to face the fact that I'm a prisoner in my own body. I don't care for the experience, but I am not asked for my opinion.
"Pretty is like attractive, is it not? This body is pretty, and tall, but I know this to be truth and not opinion only."
Mulder's disbelieving, and I can't blame him after that little exercise in lateral thinking. "I'm not sure where you're going with this, but let me make something clear, okay? I'm violent because you betrayed me, and I can't get past that"
"What is it that you consider betrayal?" He's going to kill me, I'm sure of it. I don't know how to stop it from happening, but I feel the flooding warmth that comes in the night when I wake from dreams of Fox Mulder. The voice - my voice, says, "This body has felt the same things for you since the beginning."
"This body? Why the hell are you talking like that? If you think acting crazy will get you out of this, you're wrong. And I consider killing my father, working for the other side, hurting my partner, pretty much everything you've done, to be a betrayal." The warmth that was in me vanishes at his words. I feel my hi-jacked cock deflate, rebuffed, chastised, no longer considered, and, for the first time since the bathroom, I sense the other presence within, know it like a film that coats my mind and filters everything. It is looking through my dreams now, identifying them, clarifying desires and making them over so that it can understand them. Call me an idiot if you will, but for perhaps the first time I realize that this creature that's taken control of me is not human. It smiles within me, acknowledging me at last.
Not human, it echoes. More than that, and less.
"There was a time when you and this body were lovers," it says. "This body has not changed. The I of me wishes it to be known that he did not kill your father."
"The *I* of you? Are you into Hare Krishna or something now, Krycek?" I can't blame Mulder for sounding as though he's going to burst out laughing. I would myself if I could. I'm laughing, cringing, hoping this nightmare will end. I'm listening to Mulder and to me play out a scene from Star Trek. Why did I ever get out of bed this morning? "I'm well aware that your body hasn't changed, trust me."
Yeah. I'll bet he is. I suspect I caused him bruises earlier when he had me pressed up against those phones. Certainly my underwear won't ever be the same again, such was the measure of my arousal.
"I trust you, Fox," I hear myself say, and wince.
"That's good to hear." There's still an incredulous amusement in Mulder's voice. "Sorry I can't return the sentiment."
"I wish you to feel love again," I burble. He looks at me as though I've gone mad, and I can't blame him. I would do that too, if I were him.
"Krycek, I don't know what you're trying to do here, but whatever it is won't work." He's got my arm now, and he's towing me through the airport to the boarding gate. I did not want to go to DC, but it looks as if I have no choice. Maybe when we get to LAX I can ditch him. Maybe pigs will fly. Sighing mentally, I have no choice but to follow him onto the plane. My body compels me.
He says nothing, but I get the window seat, and his long legs stretch out across the exit, and even if I could run, could get out, I actually can't. I settle back and feel my body relax as its pilot loosens control. It's going to be a long flight. For a moment, my rider closes my eyes for me.
"Krycek? You want a drink or something?" Mulder is still looking at me as if to gauge whether I am fowl or flesh or good red herring.
"I thank you, but I am trying to achieve resting. This body is tired." He blinks at me. I can see the cogs whirring behind the shrewd grey eyes, then he obviously decides that I am trying to make him crazy for the hell of it.
"Are you talking in code?" The temper is rising now. "Jesus, just say you need sleep! Shit! You're acting like you've been taken over by some..."
"Alien?" The word is out there, truth presented as lie, waiting for him to discard it. "That would stretch the bounds of credibility, even for you, Fox. I need some sleep, Fox."
"Fine. I won't hold you back from that one," he mutters, turning away. "Maybe when you wake up, you'll be normal. Think you could manage that for me, Krycek?"
I expect my rider to say something else, but he doesn't, and I close my eyes, then lean my head on his shoulder, smelling his scent, spicy hot and very Mulder as I draw near.
He doesn't pull away.
Sleep takes me - sleep and the promise of Mulder with me once more. Maybe this time things will work out for us.
~~~
A new day has come.
A new day has...come.
I was waiting for so long...
For a miracle to come.
Everyone told me to be strong.
Hold on...and don't shed a tear.
Through the darkness and good times...
I knew I'd make it through.
And the world thought...I had it all.
But I...was waiting for 'you'.
Hush...love.
I see a light in the sky.
Oh...it's almost blinding me.
I can't believe...
I've been touched by an angel...with love.
Let the rain come down...and wash away my tears.
Let it fill my soul...and drown my fears.
Let it shatter the walls...or a new sun.
A new day has come.
A new day has...come
Where it was dark...now there's light.
Where there was pain...now there's joy.
Where there was weakness...I found my strength.
All in the eyes of a boy.
Hush...love.
I see a light in the sky.
Oh...it's almost blinding me.
I can't believe...
I've been touched by an angel...with love.
Let the rain come down...and wash away my tears.
Let it fill my soul...and drown my fears.
Let it shatter the walls...for a new sun.
A new day has come.
A new day has...come.
Let the rain come down...and wash away my tears.
Let it fill my soul...and drown my fears.
Let it shatter the walls...for a new sun.
A new day has come.
A new day has...come.
Ohhh...a light...Ohhh
Author: Dr. Ruthless
Rating: PG, slashy, M/K
A/N: This was written for the X-Files Lyric Wheel. Thanks to Lady Midath for the lyrics. I vowed when I read them over that I was NOT going to write a William story. I didn't think I was going to write this one either, but there ya go. The lyrics on which it's based are at the end of the story.
Sunburst of pain between my eyes blinds me. Agony of bursting vessels, and the trickle of blood makes my cry thick and inchoate. Somewhere, I see a light in the sky. The vision fuzzes, fades, focuses into the brightly lit airport, and Fox Mulder's face, twisted in fury.
We dance, and as ever, violence is the medium whereby we express our love for each other. The dance is never ending, always harsh always short, never sweet.
My head reels, and there is blood on my upper lip. Stumbling into the bathroom, I look at myself and wince. Fuck me, I am pathetic, and it's all down to that one man who somehow seems to have been sent to drag me down.
I was fine until they sent me to fuck him over. I was perfect. I had it all - a fast-track to the top - to the top and the money and the good life.
Then Mulder.
So what now? He's out there, and I've never been able to kill him - anyone else but not Fox, not Mulder with those dazed blue-grey eyes and idiot savant way of making me crazy by divining my intentions without any visible means of knowing how, or what, or who.
So he's out there, and I'm in here repairing the traces of the dust-up we just had. Man, he slammed me with something. I thought I was home-free with everything I needed, and blam! Stars and stripes and oh, say, I could all of a sudden see that fucking banner in amongst the little planets and the tweeting birds that flashed around me.
When I came back to my senses, he was choking the shit out of me, and his gun was in my gut, and all I could do was dare him. Do it to me, Mulder. Just do it, and we both know that I didn't just mean fire the gun.
So he's hot, and I've got a jones. Bite me. The world can bite me. He can bite me twice. Fuck, what will I do? I can't kill him, not yet.
I lick at the blood on my lip and then wander over to the urinal to express my feelings in the best possible way. Piss on you, Mulder. Piss all over you.
I don't hear the door. I don't hear the feet approaching, and then I do. Then, I look over to my side and don't believe my eyes, because it's her; it's a woman, and why, and she's throttling me while I dangle here, face pressed against the wall, with my dick hanging out and piss down my own leg.
Then something. I don't quite know what, but something.
The world stops. Seconds tick by like tears from the eyes of time. There's something happening to me, and it's inexorable. It seems like it was always meant to happen, always going to be my fate.
Something inside me, seething through my long veins as if it's taking stock of what it can use. I feel the flood of warmth in my still dripping dick, the tensing of my balls, the flutter inside my belly and the singing burn of a presence flickering through my limbs. She stands there, dull eyed and empty now, while I take it all in and make it mine.
It makes me his.
Who are you?
I am here to join with you, to become you.
There's a momentary flickering, and then the world goes away. I'm lost in darkness, trapped somehow in a place that isn't real, where I can't see, can't touch, don't know what's going on. I panic, screaming soundlessly until I sense something touch me, fill me.
There's a sudden flicker, a brightness that's burning, Oh...it's almost blinding me, and I can't cover my eyes; my hands won't obey. When the pain retreats, I can see again. I'm walking now, and there's Mulder, nemesis, lover, executioner, there he is, whatever he might be to me.
"Feel better?" he asks, and the creature in me answers him.
"Like a new man."
We walk together, Mulder and I-golem, made from oil and horror, full of secrets and shame. I gaze at him, the creature within me apparently as fascinated by his full mouth and thoroughbred body as I. I feel a flood of lust fill me, and although I welcome it, it is not my own.
"What are you looking at?" Mulder is faintly irritated.
"I am studying you." It's my voice, just enough sultry meaning behind the words to tug at his cock-strings, but it isn't me doing the talking. I feel faint. Here, in this limbo of not cold and not pain and not anyfuckingthingatall, I feel cold.
"*Studying* me?" I can tell that Mulder doesn't like the sound of that. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It means that I do not quite understand, but that I would like to." Better. He'll be intrigued by that, and he's less likely to punch first if he's interested. I send a mental congratulation to the fringes of my existence and wonder if it's heard. Mulder looks at me in that semi-dazed way he has when he's putting zero and zero together to make the requisite number for complete solution. Finally, he brightens up.
"Jesus, I must have hit you harder than I thought." He's confused. I like that. What I don't like is that the thing riding me won't shut up, and it's my body that's going to get smacked about when Mulder finally loses his rag.
"You hit this body hard, but that I understand," it says. "What I do not understand, is why you conceal what you know to be true."
He's as much at sea as I am. His voice loses certainty, although he's going for flippant when he responds. "Krycek, you're worrying me now. Do I need to take you to a hospital? And what are you talking about? Conceal what?"
"You conceal your desire for this body with a mask of violence." And there it is. He's going to knock the poo out of me, and I don't have any way of stopping it. I shiver inside and my cold feeling gets colder. Time ticks on, dripping like the blood that oozes from a gut shot. I wait for Mulder to lose it. He doesn't.
"Ha! Boy, you've got a pretty high opinion of yourself." He's sneering now; not a good sign, although he hasn't reached the flashpoint yet. I try for control of my limbs, but nothing changes. I have to face the fact that I'm a prisoner in my own body. I don't care for the experience, but I am not asked for my opinion.
"Pretty is like attractive, is it not? This body is pretty, and tall, but I know this to be truth and not opinion only."
Mulder's disbelieving, and I can't blame him after that little exercise in lateral thinking. "I'm not sure where you're going with this, but let me make something clear, okay? I'm violent because you betrayed me, and I can't get past that"
"What is it that you consider betrayal?" He's going to kill me, I'm sure of it. I don't know how to stop it from happening, but I feel the flooding warmth that comes in the night when I wake from dreams of Fox Mulder. The voice - my voice, says, "This body has felt the same things for you since the beginning."
"This body? Why the hell are you talking like that? If you think acting crazy will get you out of this, you're wrong. And I consider killing my father, working for the other side, hurting my partner, pretty much everything you've done, to be a betrayal." The warmth that was in me vanishes at his words. I feel my hi-jacked cock deflate, rebuffed, chastised, no longer considered, and, for the first time since the bathroom, I sense the other presence within, know it like a film that coats my mind and filters everything. It is looking through my dreams now, identifying them, clarifying desires and making them over so that it can understand them. Call me an idiot if you will, but for perhaps the first time I realize that this creature that's taken control of me is not human. It smiles within me, acknowledging me at last.
Not human, it echoes. More than that, and less.
"There was a time when you and this body were lovers," it says. "This body has not changed. The I of me wishes it to be known that he did not kill your father."
"The *I* of you? Are you into Hare Krishna or something now, Krycek?" I can't blame Mulder for sounding as though he's going to burst out laughing. I would myself if I could. I'm laughing, cringing, hoping this nightmare will end. I'm listening to Mulder and to me play out a scene from Star Trek. Why did I ever get out of bed this morning? "I'm well aware that your body hasn't changed, trust me."
Yeah. I'll bet he is. I suspect I caused him bruises earlier when he had me pressed up against those phones. Certainly my underwear won't ever be the same again, such was the measure of my arousal.
"I trust you, Fox," I hear myself say, and wince.
"That's good to hear." There's still an incredulous amusement in Mulder's voice. "Sorry I can't return the sentiment."
"I wish you to feel love again," I burble. He looks at me as though I've gone mad, and I can't blame him. I would do that too, if I were him.
"Krycek, I don't know what you're trying to do here, but whatever it is won't work." He's got my arm now, and he's towing me through the airport to the boarding gate. I did not want to go to DC, but it looks as if I have no choice. Maybe when we get to LAX I can ditch him. Maybe pigs will fly. Sighing mentally, I have no choice but to follow him onto the plane. My body compels me.
He says nothing, but I get the window seat, and his long legs stretch out across the exit, and even if I could run, could get out, I actually can't. I settle back and feel my body relax as its pilot loosens control. It's going to be a long flight. For a moment, my rider closes my eyes for me.
"Krycek? You want a drink or something?" Mulder is still looking at me as if to gauge whether I am fowl or flesh or good red herring.
"I thank you, but I am trying to achieve resting. This body is tired." He blinks at me. I can see the cogs whirring behind the shrewd grey eyes, then he obviously decides that I am trying to make him crazy for the hell of it.
"Are you talking in code?" The temper is rising now. "Jesus, just say you need sleep! Shit! You're acting like you've been taken over by some..."
"Alien?" The word is out there, truth presented as lie, waiting for him to discard it. "That would stretch the bounds of credibility, even for you, Fox. I need some sleep, Fox."
"Fine. I won't hold you back from that one," he mutters, turning away. "Maybe when you wake up, you'll be normal. Think you could manage that for me, Krycek?"
I expect my rider to say something else, but he doesn't, and I close my eyes, then lean my head on his shoulder, smelling his scent, spicy hot and very Mulder as I draw near.
He doesn't pull away.
Sleep takes me - sleep and the promise of Mulder with me once more. Maybe this time things will work out for us.
~~~
A new day has come.
A new day has...come.
I was waiting for so long...
For a miracle to come.
Everyone told me to be strong.
Hold on...and don't shed a tear.
Through the darkness and good times...
I knew I'd make it through.
And the world thought...I had it all.
But I...was waiting for 'you'.
Hush...love.
I see a light in the sky.
Oh...it's almost blinding me.
I can't believe...
I've been touched by an angel...with love.
Let the rain come down...and wash away my tears.
Let it fill my soul...and drown my fears.
Let it shatter the walls...or a new sun.
A new day has come.
A new day has...come
Where it was dark...now there's light.
Where there was pain...now there's joy.
Where there was weakness...I found my strength.
All in the eyes of a boy.
Hush...love.
I see a light in the sky.
Oh...it's almost blinding me.
I can't believe...
I've been touched by an angel...with love.
Let the rain come down...and wash away my tears.
Let it fill my soul...and drown my fears.
Let it shatter the walls...for a new sun.
A new day has come.
A new day has...come.
Let the rain come down...and wash away my tears.
Let it fill my soul...and drown my fears.
Let it shatter the walls...for a new sun.
A new day has come.
A new day has...come.
Ohhh...a light...Ohhh