By Nikita

nik_cleo@hotmail.com

"Unforeseen Complications 3"

By Nikita

Summary: Life is complicated, Alex and Mulder's are extremely so...

Pairing: M/K

Spoilers: Season 2, 3, 4, and... haven't you seen all of them??

Series: 3/?

Warning: Slash, if you don't know what that means chances are you don't wanna know, go watch an x-file repeat and stay safe from my twisted version. Contains m/m hurt/comfort, romance, schmoop, and sex...at some point or another.

Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Files or any characters or plot lines associated with it. Chris Carter and the wonderful actors (especially Duchovny) do. I'm not making any profit off this story or the characters within. Don't bother suing, I'm a grad student with lots of student loans...I haven't got a penny.

XXXX

Alex didn't sleep at all that night. He'd been consumed with worry. He couldn't go back to D.C. with Mulder; it was far too dangerous. Even if he could somehow do so, what then? Mulder was an honest, honorable man trying to fight the consortium. Alex was a traitor and had worked for them. How long before Mulder remembered why he hated Alex? Would it even last the night? In the morning, released from the demons that haunted Mulder in bed, would he look at his bed companion and realize his mistake?

He'd begged Mulder to make love to him. He'd been lonely, scared, and desperate to try to recapture their brief relationship. Now, he still felt all of those things, but more importantly he knew that he didn't deserve Mulder. Not now. But he wanted to. He wanted it desperately. A chance to wipe out all of those mistakes he made in the past. A chance to come into a relationship with Mulder with honesty and with proof that he was on Mulder's side.

But to do that he'd have to leave. Leave before Mulder woke up and turned him away. Go and prove himself to Mulder and come back with something...a gift. Mulder wasn't a man that wanted material things, Mulder was a man that wanted to save lives, hunt out the truth, stop destruction.

So 'that' was what he'd do for Mulder.

He turned his head to look at Mulder once more. God he was beautiful. He lay there clutching Alex like a life preserver; face smooth and so rare in its peace. He hated to have to do so but he slowly loosened Mulder's clutching hands. He eased himself out of the embrace and sat up in the bed very carefully. He looked back at the other man and wished he could just forget his mission and get back into bed. Wake up in the morning and maybe convince Mulder to make love to him again. But that was impossible. He had to go out and make it possible.

His clothes were a disgusting mess. He decided to 'borrow' a pair of Mulder's jeans, they didn't fit very well, but they were better than his own. He pulled on the mess of his leather jacket and crept out of the motel room. Towards redemption.

XXX

Mulder woke slowly the next morning. He stretched, opening his eyes and glancing around the room. He was in a motel room, in bed. Memory came back and he glanced at the other side of the bed. Empty.

He sat up, looked around. He was alone. The only sign that Krycek had ever been there was a pile of oil-encrusted clothes. The jacket was gone. So was his other pair of jeans from his bag. No note, nothing.

He fell back onto the bed with a frustrated groan. "Shit! I'm SO fucking stupid!"

XXX

Months had passed since the silo; Alex was deep within a cell of a large terrorist group. So called freedom fighters that were hell bent on killing their own citizens. He hated it. He hated every single fucking lunatic he had to befriend. He hated the fucking screwed up 'patriotic' speeches he had to listen to and pretend to swear to. He was used to being a traitor. Used to swearing to oaths he had no intention of following through with. He was good at it.

But that didn't make it any easier for him. He sent another batch of receipts to Mulder. He was fucking sick of the whole mess. He was so glad that it should be over soon. Soon they would be dropping off the weapons and equipment and there 'should' be a FBI sting then. He couldn't wait. He'd hand over the terrorists and Mulder and he could try to work something out together.

He focused his attention on his fellow 'patriot' who was telling him about a new shipment coming in. Perfect...

XXX

Mulder opened the latest envelope full of receipts. Yet another one of his sources was sending him clues, but for some reason it was on a domestic terrorist group. Not his usual brand of conspiracies, but he'd been putting together quite a case. When he was done with his latest report on the group he went back to his other files and worked. And worked and worked and worked.

Most days he got home and worked some more. Long nights in front of the computer, finally he would turn it off and flop on the couch in front of the TV. He'd watch the TV until his eyes drooped and he managed to nod off. The TV's white noise soothed him sometimes, but couldn't stop the nightmares.

He was lying in bed, back home. He lay staring at the ceiling watching shadows play across it. He heard the creak of the steps and knew that his father was coming. He burrowed under the covers, squeezing his eyes shut tight. The footsteps grew closer... the comforter would be pulled down and his father's drunken gaze would pierce him.

He woke with a start. Heart thumping, he turned to Alex who lay beside him in his bed in his apartment, his green eyes open with concern. "You okay, baby?" a husky voice asked him. "Yeah, just a nightmare." "Oh? Let me get your mind off it..." His hand slid down Mulder's chest and reached for his cock. Mulder shivered, in desire or fear, he wasn't sure. He closed his eyes and waited in anticipation, but as soon as his eyes shut the feeling stopped. Opening his eyes once more he saw that he was back in his childhood bedroom, but as an adult. As he lay there confused he heard the creaking of the steps once more...

Mulder sat up with a jerk, his pillow falling to the ground. He was back on his sofa, the dawn's light creeping through his window. He wiped the sweat off his face and then wrapped his arms around himself. He was panting like he'd run a marathon. He stood up unsteadily and staggered to the bathroom. Washing his face he glanced at his reflection. Seeing a pale shaken shell of a man he felt an intense flash of anger. He smashed the mirror with his fist. It shattered, raining glass down on the sink and floor. His bare feet were scratched. He stood there staring at his fist dripping in blood. "Stupid. REAL stupid." He washed his hand in the sink and swept up the glass, tossing it in the trash. He cleaned up the smears of blood from his hand and feet and decided to go for a run before showering. Throwing on some sweat pants, t-shirt and running shoes, he thumped down the stairs, two at a time.

Outside the air was cold, but he ignored it. He stretched; warming up and then jogged, and then ran. Pushing himself to the limit, he entered his apartment once more, sweaty, tired, but his mind clear of some of its depression, no matter how temporarily.

Weeks went by, his routine held. He worked until exhausted, watched TV until he collapsed and woke from a nightmare every day. Scully was worried about him. Always on his case about eating, sleeping, relaxing. He found it hard not to snap at her. He felt close to breaking, but couldn't think how to stop it. A vacation was out of the question. Where would he go? What would he do? What could possibly stop the nightmares? With more time on his hands he surely WOULD break.

So he kept working, focusing on the X-Files and the upcoming raid...

XXX

Mulder stared unbelieving at the man before him. Anger raged within him as he thrust Krycek up against the wall. Alex had left his bed that morning and gone out to join a fucking terrorist group?! He was furious, he heard nothing of what Alex was saying, the words lost meaning, Scully was staring at him like he was a mad man. Mulder, not Krycek. All Mulder could see was the man who had managed to betray him yet again. All this time he'd tried so hard to forget the night after the silo. Even though his nightmares mocked him...

Krycek claimed the terrorists were the ones that rescued him from the silo. That he'd sent Mulder the receipts. Handed him the bust. He stared into Alex's eyes, anger and confusion making him blind to the fact that he was acting very out of character. He snarled at Alex, spitting out insults.

He then decided that Krycek was a liar. Pure and simple. A betrayer and one that he should never again let past his defenses. And so, he'd focus on the case before him and put as much distance between them as possible.

In the car on the way to Marita's Alex tried to talk to him. "Mulder? Will you listen to me, dammit? You're heading towards trouble. Mulder? Why won't you talk to me? I gave you this bust. I-"

"Shut the fuck up." Mulder snapped and refused to look at his former lover.

After he got the information from Marita he got back into the car once more.

Krycek tried again to prod Mulder into talking to him. Mulder hit him; he felt both a vicious thrill at hitting the man that had hurt him so badly and a sudden feeling of regret. He squashed the regret as firmly as possible and drove to the airport.

He couldn't leave Alex in the car, though. He'd planned to have Scully come and get him from the parking lot, but then decided inexplicably he changed his mind. Alex's panicked cries, his frustrated cursing; it reminded Mulder of the man's claustrophobia. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stand the thought of leaving a man alone like that with his worst fear. Even a man like Krycek.

As for taking him with him to Tunguska, it was pure suicidal impulse. Luckily, though, he would live to regret it.

XXX

Alex frowned at the man sitting next to him on the plane. Mulder had taken off the handcuffs. He could escape if he really wanted to. The plane hadn't taken off yet. But as he looked at the man next to him, he began to see that Mulder was hurting, badly.

At the raid, he'd been clueless. Why was Mulder so angry with him? Furious. The man had a deranged look in his eyes. He kept trying to convey the truth with his eyes while lying for the sake of Scully's ears. He couldn't mention the way he 'really' was rescued. He knew Mulder had to know that. And the receipts, why was Mulder so fucking obtuse about them? Why else would he give him evidence? He had set the whole thing up for the man.

And now they were heading into Russia. This was too dangerous a mission for Mulder to go bumbling into. The man had no inkling what was going on there. He wanted to tell Mulder, but the man wasn't looking at him, wasn't speaking to him. And Krycek couldn't tell him, anyway. The resistance was firm on that. He was in a dangerous position, playing the consortium and Russian sect of the resistance off one another.

He had to keep his own goals to himself for now. So he remained silent. But as he watched Mulder he was growing more and more worried about the man.

They'd been in the air for several hours now. It was a transatlantic flight, a really long fucking flight. Everyone else was sleeping, but Mulder was focused on a paperback he'd bought before boarding. 'He really ought to sleep. He looks so tired, exhausted, and the flight is likely the only chance we'll get in a while.' Mulder kept reading. "Mulder?" he spoke as softly as he could, not out of deference to the other sleeping passengers, but in a hope that he wouldn't reawaken Mulder's wrath.

No response, the pages kept turning. Alex sighed, "Mulder, you need to sleep. I need to sleep, it's a long flight and-"

"Sleep then. Just shut up." Mulder's voice was low and distracted.

Krycek sighed once more, this time in frustration. Damn the man! Let him stay up then. Fuck it.

He turned away from Mulder in his seat and shut his eyes, willing himself to ignore the man sitting next to him.

He woke to a sound, a whimpering, he straightened and turned to look at Mulder, the man was clutching the book, but was asleep. Mulder made the sound again, a little louder and more panicked. Alex shook him before it got worse and woke the passengers around them. Mulder sat up with a gasp. He trembled for a moment and then remembered his situation and shrugged out of Alex's grasp. He cleared his throat and opened his book again, not saying a word or even looking at Krycek.

Alex continued to stare at him, he wished they were alone. He'd soothe Mulder and hold him until they slept, it was probably the only way Mulder would get any sleep. Mulder glanced up, looking resigned. "I'm fine. Go back to sleep...it's a long flight."

XXX

Mulder wasn't reading. He'd finished the book ages ago. He was pretending so Alex would turn away. It wasn't working. He sighed and snapped the book shut, shoving it in the pocket of the seat ahead of him, he pulled out one of the pathetic air magazines and started reading it. He was so tired. He was also NOT going to give in this time.

XXX

They landed in Russia and hired a man to give them a lift to the site. In the truck they sat opposite of one another. According to the driver it would take about 5 hours to get there. Mulder's head was drooping. Alex decided that enough was enough. He moved over to the center of the truck, sitting with his back against the wall separating them from the driver, he held out his arms. "Come on, Mulder, you need to rest." Mulder's eyes snapped open. "No."

"Yes. Come on, don't be a stubborn bastard. You need to sleep or you're going to drop." Mulder frowned and was going to object, but was interrupted by a long jaw cracking yawn. Alex leaned forward and dragged Mulder into his lap. Mulder tensed, but let himself be snuggled against Krycek's chest. The truck rocked and bounced over the bumpy road, but Alex could feel Mulder's body slowly relax and fall asleep. Alex smiled over his head and wished...

Mulder started twitching and groaning. He twisted in Alex's arms, still asleep. Alex tightened his hold and rubbed his left hand down his back. "Shh... It's okay..." Mulder groaned louder. "Alex? Alex..." He murmured in his sleep. Krycek stopped rubbing his back and hoped Mulder would slip into a deeper sleep.

This action caused Mulder to suddenly freeze in his sleep, "No. Alex? Where are you? No...noooo...nooo. The groans turned painful. Alex was startled; he shook Mulder to wake him.

Mulder's eyes suddenly opened and he pulled himself out of Alex's grasp. He sat back down on his own side of the truck and wrapped his arms around his knees, not looking at Alex. "I think I've had enough sleep," he said wryly, eyes firmly fixed on the space ahead of him.

Alex struggled back up into a more comfortable position and they sat in silence the rest of the way. He'd hurt Mulder far worse than he'd ever thought.

XXX

Mulder sat in the cell, his head pounding. He'd really gotten himself into a mess now. He wondered if Alex had gotten away. The door opened and Alex was pushed in. He was a panic stricken mess, or at least he acted like it. Mulder watched him closely, the man was hiding something. He demanded to know what Krycek had told the men, but the other man just pushed him off of him. Told him not to touch him again.

Mulder sank back down on the floor.

XXX

The cockroach was the final straw. Alex knew that he had to get the upper hand here. He needed to assert his identity with the Russians and get into a position to get both the vaccine and Mulder. It wasn't going to be easy. He couldn't tell Mulder, the walls had ears and he wouldn't have trusted him anyway. Alex left him behind in the cell and knew his lover was angry and scared. Alex hoped he'd be able to get him out soon.

It was slow going convincing the men that he was one of them. He was buddying up to them out in the yard, laughing at the guinea pigs being led out to the work yard. Krycek was waiting for Mulder to appear so he could point him out. He planned to get him into a better cell and higher status as Krycek's personal prisoner. He could then plot their escape.

He should have known Mulder would fuck everything up. Mulder was such a stubborn, relentless SOB. He loved and hated that about him. Anyone else would have been beaten, helpless, too scared to think straight. Not Mulder, he had managed to get a hold of a weapon somehow and he knocked me out into the truck and drove away. The only vehicle around and he managed to get away in it. Of course, Mulder's luck demanded that the truck have no breaks. Alex rolled out of the truck and waited for the other man to do the same. The truck careened out of my view, no Mulder.

That day ended badly for Alex. The peasants cut off his arm to 'protect' him. He lay in a hospital for a month afterward. Nearly died from an infection. When he finally got word on Mulder he found out he was back home safe and sound. Alex looked at his new status. He had one arm, no standing in the consortium, no hope of having Mulder ever love or trust him again.

He was fucked.

XXX

Mulder paced his apartment once more. Ever since Tunguska he'd been trying to figure out what had happened before and during their trip to Russia. He wondered at his own anger and hatred at Alex. He'd felt betrayed, lied to, used. But he'd felt that way before by a myriad of other people and never had he lost control of himself like that. Alex's reappearance in his life had made him full of rage. He knew now that he'd taken years of frustration out on one man that had only a small role in the consortium.

And then, despite his distrust and anger, he'd taken the man to Russia with him. A vulnerable place to be with a man he didn't trust. He had to depend on Alex to translate for him, trust him not to dump him in the middle of the country or mislead him. He'd taken the cuffs off Krycek before they'd even left the country. The man could have left at any time, but he'd decided to come with him. He should have known it was just to betray him, but at the time he'd hoped it meant something more. That Alex wanted to work with him.

That flight had been unbearable for him. The sounds of people all around him sleeping peacefully, his former lover sitting next to him, every move reminding Mulder of their past. He couldn't let himself sleep. He'd read until he'd lost the battle. Woken to Alex shaking him. He'd wanted so much to hold onto the man.

And then on the truck, Alex had pulled him into his arms and held him until he finally let himself sleep. The nightmare had stayed the same though. His childhood bedroom, Alex gone, he'd woken up in Alex's arms and had to pull himself away. He couldn't let himself fall into those arms again. He'd been stupid to let himself try.

And he'd been betrayed again.

Alex. Demanding to speak to the head of the prison. Mulder's neighbor telling him that he was betrayed. Alex. Standing around laughing with the guards and the doctor. Mulder had been enraged, knocking the man out and into the truck. He'd seen and heard Krycek roll out of the truck when it was evident that there were no brakes. He'd crashed the truck. Only by sheer luck was he found by the driver and again only sheer luck and quick talking kept Mulder with both arms intact. He'd promised money and American citizenship. He'd gladly arranged for both.

Now... now he sat and wondered what the whole incident had really taught him. Had Alex meant any of it? Had he really wanted to help Mulder by giving him the bust? If he hadn't escaped, would Alex have eventually helped him? He wondered. He wondered if he would ever see the man again.

XXX

Alex crouched in the dark. He was waiting for his prey to come inside. He'd stayed away from Mulder as long as he could, but he just couldn't stand it anymore. He'd heard rumors, disturbing rumors about Mulder. They said Mulder no longer believed in aliens. Didn't believe in anything he'd sought for so long. Mulder had lost his way and the people around him did nothing to try to rekindle that belief.

So that was why Krycek was going to give him a mission. A chance to see something concrete to give him hope again. But he wasn't sure how he could do that without Mulder's thickheaded distrust keeping him from that chance. He'd have to convince him, somehow.

The key jingled in the lock and Alex stood up and waited behind the door.