Warp -
Questions
by Amirin
Wondering what his reaction would be, when I got around to telling him what
I needed his help for. I thought I had the bases covered, but he has managed
to surprise me, before. He could easily slip in something I hadn't even
considered.
If anyone could do it, he could.
Anyway, I guess I wasn't really thinking. I was planning. Distracted. That's
my only excuse. The only conceivable reason for answering his softly murmured,
"Can I ask you something?" with a "Sure, anything."
I wasn't thinking.
I didn't even have time to prepare myself when his next question came.
"Why did you kill my father?"
Not 'did you'. 'Why did you'.
It stunned me, yes. He simply assumed I had. And was still naked at my
side. Never mind that Bill Mulder wasn't his father; Fox didn't know that.
He went into this thinking I had capped his old man and fucked me, anyway.
Jesus.
'Why did you kill my father'?
Why do I get the feeling that 'Because I was taking my orders from the wrong
man at the time' just wouldn't be enough to satisfy him?
Okay, then...
How much do I tell him? Assuming I don't tell him everything, how do I
explain it all later? What reasons can I come up with, for my silence? For the
lies? And how much will he understand? Or be able to forgive?
Obviously, I can't tell him everything. Not yet. It's too
soon. Maybe... after. When the smoke has cleared, the dust has settled. After
the bodies are counted and buried for good. Maybe then I can tell him. But for
now...
Mulder just lay there, arm still around me, silent, patient, like he was
asking me to give him a reason, any reason, to make fucking me a bit more
palatable for him. And I wanted so badly to get pissed at him, but I couldn't.
Because I understood. And because I still needed his help. And to get his
help, I had to have his trust. And to get his trust, I had to tell him the
truth about this.
Or, at the very least, part of one. A part we'd both be able to live with.
Deep breath. Let's start with his question. Simple enough.
Yeah, right.
"I had no choice."
He quietly thought it over, wheels spinning, cogs grinding, theories and
ideas clicking into place.
"Was it a choice of you or him?"
Actually, mercifully, it wasn't. That might have been a little harder.
"No. It was you or him."
A small lie. They would never have killed Mulder. Destruction, however,was
something else entirely.
And as for Fox...
Stillness. Absorption. Then a slow nod out of the corner of my eye. That,
he can believe. Now. After... everything. He'd never have bought it a couple
of weeks ago. He would never have believed that it would have made any
difference to me, whatsoever. Now, he's willing to consider the possibility
that it made all the difference in the world. And if that didn't please me so
damned much, I'd be feeling pretty fucking smug about it.
"Was he my father, Alex?"
Shit, shit, shit.
Come on, Alex. Simple yes or no, that's all that's required.
Sure it is.
"No. Biologically speaking, no."
True enough. None of that cold man's genetic material is present in the
wonderfully warm being next to me.
I, myself, am not so fortunate. Which probably explains more about me than
I'd like to admit.
"Who is?"
He refuses to ask the easy questions. Isn't that a surprise?
"Not the man you're thinking of."
His relief was palpable and he moved closer to me, of all things, as I
sighed, leaned back into him, and rested my head on his shoulder as he shifted
slightly above me.
No, the nicotine-poisoned walking corpse is not your father, Fox. He'd have
been dead a long time ago, if he were. I'd have taken care of it personally.
And with no small amount of pleasure.
"Do you know who is?"
"I only know of his existence. Much the same way I know of Samantha's."
He looked at me, realized I was only making a point, not a strike. And, more
importantly, that I really didn't know all that much about either of them.
Which was the truth.
"Did you help them take Scully?"
Fuck.
"No."
He sighed with something like relief and took my hand in one of his.
Oh, no, Fox. Don't get too relaxed, yet. It's not that simple. Nothing
ever is.
"I just made sure they didn't get you, too."
He stopped moving, briefly. Frozen. Finally, a slow thaw. Very slow.But a
thaw, nonetheless.
When did he become so forgiving? I wondered.
And then I remembered something.
That's how all this started. In the warehouse. Kersh. Too late for Scully,
this time not on purpose. And making damned sure Mulder was alright and out
of the way. Again.
Well, now. I hadn't realized I'd established a pattern.
Time to toss him something else to chew on.
"I brought her back, once I'd figured out where she was."
"And no one saw you. How'd you manage that?"
It wasn't doubt I heard in his voice. Or disbelief. Something harder,colder
than idle curiosity, though.
"I can all but disappear in a hospital, Fox. You wouldn't believe how often
I frequent them."
"What, you go in as a doctor?"
"No. Someone practically invisible, to city-dwellers. Someone their eyes
are used to sliding right past, without really seeing. It's extremely
effective."
Doesn't say much for humanity, though, does it? Of course, humanity
wouldn't say much for me, either.
I find myself wondering if Fox knew how many times he'd walked right past
me on a street corner, a subway platform, in a bus terminal, a parking garage.
How many times his eyes had been the ones that slid over me, unseeing.
I've lost count.
"No one knew where she'd come from, when she was returned," he said
softly, catching my wandering attention again. "Or who'd brought her in. No
one could tell me anything."
"I'm not surprised."
"That's damned effective."
"It has its uses."
Silence, like he was gathering himself for something. Slight tension
curling through him. I rolled over all the way and saw him frowning. And
sighed, settled on my back, pressed up against his warmth, and waited.
"Did you have anything to do with Melissa Scully's death?"
I should have stayed where I was.
He saw the truth in my eyes before I even opened my mouth to answer him.
groh@iquest.net
I was just laying there, playing with the hairs on the arm wrapped around
me. Feeling his breath warm the back of my neck. Content enough. Idly
thinking about Danny, a little. And Fox, a lot.
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