Long Time Gone
by Skinner Box
Email: BurrhusFrederic@worldnet.att.net
Summary: Jeffrey Spender gets a letter.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Spender/Krycek
Spoilers/Timeline: Existence
Disclaimer: The X-files and these characters belong to Chris Carter and Fox Broadcasting. I play with them out of love and for no profit.
Note: Thank you to drovar and the fine folk of the Spenderfic list.
Archive: please ask first

Long Time Gone
by Skinner Box

He's been a long time gone before. More than six months when my late and unlamented father had him thrown in that pit of a Tunisian prison. It's been less than half that time. So why does this manilla envelope, addressed to me in familiar block capitals, weigh so heavy in my hand?

The flap slices into my finger as I open it, cold shock of pain less a surprise than the welling red- it's deep for a paper cut. Sucking my opened knuckle, I pull out the letter awkwardly, one handed, like he'd have done it: late morning on my day off, still one armed and sleepy again from morning sex like we always have on Tuesdays when he's home. Which he's not.

It takes a minute to figure it out. The Cyrillic throws me- for all the work I put into it my Russian's still not that good. A minute later I laugh. In-joke or paranoia, I'm not sure which, but it's phonetic English in St. Cyril's alphabet. Only Alex. Then I start sounding out past the first few words:

  Hello Jeffrey.

  An honorable man promised me he'd set in motion the plan that
  ends with this letter in your hands if ever he knew for sure that
  I was dead. So there you are. I'm alive writing this now, but...
  I'm trying to think like a dead man here, Jeff. Bear with me.

  Shit. This was never part of my plan. Any of it. You were an
  accident, then an addiction. Selfish of me, yeah, I know, knew,
  goddammit. I guess all I really have to say is thank you. And
  forgive me. Anyway, there'll be a data dump to your computer.
  Nothing dangerous, just the numbers to a few more accounts
  you didn't know about. Stay safe.

  Yours truly,
  Asher ben Chaim v'Sarah

He signed it with his Hebrew name. The name God calls you, he told me once, my fervently Jewish, atheist Alex.

I'm taking this way too calmly, I think to myself. Then I realize I'm sitting on the shoulder of Butter Road by the mailbox in my robe and pyjamas and blood is everywhere.

The End

Archived: June 03, 2001