Disclaimer: CC owns them.
Ratings: PG 13 m/m relationship
Spoilers: None; placed after Ascension but before Anasazi
Dedicated to Lupe
Summary: Krycek makes some hard decisions
Yesterday was the first time I ever lied to him.
I often didn't tell him everything, but yesterday was the first time I really told him a lie.
I hope this lie had the effect I hoped for. To help him. To make things easier for him.
It had been only a week after I had left the FBI when I just couldn't bear it any longer. I couldn't bear being separated from him. I just had to see him.
I knew it was stupid.
But I had to see him. So I went to his apartment and rang the bell, risking him to arrest me. Or to kill me. Or worse, to reject me.
He looked like hell when he opened the door. Worried. His hair tossled, his skin pale. 'Course, Scully had just dissapeared. He must have been sick of sorrow. And of guilt. He always feels responsible for everything.
When he saw me he at once grabbed me at the collar and dragged me into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him.
"You son of a bitch!" he hissed, pressing me against a wall. Memories of the last time we had been so near flared up in the back of my mind. He had not been angry then.
"You cheated me. You betrayed me."
It hurt to see the rage in his eyes; he was almost going mad. "It's all your fault," he cried. "You knew they would take Scully, did you?"
"I didn't." I said. It was the truth. "I knew they planned something, but not what."
I writhed in suprise and pain when he slammed his fist into my stomach.
"You should have warned me!" he screamed. Waiting for the pain to go, I coughed: "But then they would have killed me!"
Mulder looked at me in shock, before he took a few steps back. Then he broke down to the floor, crying.
Obviously he was in a very bad habit.
And it was all my fault.
It hurt to see him so down. The first time we met had not been a flash of light, no love on first sight. Just interest. We began not only to share the work but also the bed out of a kind of curiousity. Somewhen I realized that I loved him.
And now he cried. Because of me. It made me feel terrible.
I wanted to help him, 'though I had no idea how, so I just knelt down beside him. He looked up, no longer anger in his eyes, but pain. To see his pain was worse, I can tell you.
"I missed you so." he whispered. I thought I had not heard right. "I love you so." he added.
I hadn't thought that Mulder had really loved me, too. I just can't imagine why anyone should do so. But he did.
At that moment I just felt happy. Later I would feel terribly sorry for him. Sorry that his love made him feel so down. But at the moment my happyness was stronger. There was somebody who loved me. Somebody who thought I was worth to be loved. Who loved me despite of all my mistakes. Not just somebody, it was Mulder.
It made me feel bigger, better, stronger.
I didn't think about what I was doing when I kissed him. I was just so glad that he loved me.
He kissed me back with all his passion. The usual followed. We stripped each other down while we made our way to his bedroom. We reached his bed already naked and made love, his tears running dry in kisses, embraces and caresses.
His sadness came back. Afterwards.
His eyes seem to change colour with his mood. They had been an almost bright blue during our love-making, but now they were deep brown.
"We can't do that." he said. We already did, didn't we? I looked at him questioningly.
"We can't love each other. I can't allow myself to love you. It can't work."
I understood what he meant, but I didn't want to. "Why not?" I asked. "Who hinders you?"
Mulder uttered a loud that was something between a laughter and a sob. "I wish there was someone to hinder me. This will make me go crazy. It hurts like hell when you're not around, and it hurts when you are here, too. I love you but I shouldn't. I can't..." he stammered and started to cry.
I didn't want to see him so down.
'Though some part of me still felt glad that he had fallen for me, some other part was sorry that he had fallen so deep and hard. And of course he was right, our love couldn't work. Because of who I am. Because of who he is. Because of all the goddamn circumstances.
I couldn't stand seeing him suffer because of me. Because of his love for me. I searched desperately for a way to make it easier for him not to love me. Perhaps even a reason to hate me. Hatred is easier than love.
"You said you are in love with me?" I was astonished at how casual I could keep my voice.
He gazed up to me, tears glittering in his eyes.
"Interesting." I tried to keep my voice cold, sarcastical. Then came the first time I ever really lied to him. "I never was in love with you." He sounded astonished when he asked: "Why are you here?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I wanted to have sex with you. Did you really think I was in love with you?" I laughed, a short, humorless sound. "Didn't think you were so naive."
He stared at me for a moment, as if he didn't understand a word. Then hurt, pain, regret and anger took turns on his features.
"You better leave my apartment." he said with an icy voice.
I avoided his gaze when I stood up and dressed, because I feared he then would have seen my true feelings.
I left without a last look back. If I had looked back and seen him down, I would probably have fallen on my knees and begged him for forgiveness. But that was no option. Our love is futile, we'd only suffer if we held on to it. I hope I could at least make it easier for him.
If only it wouldn't hurt so much to think about him. If only I could think of something else!