Wheel of Fortune

by Ursula

Title: Wheel Of Fortune

Author/Pseudonym: Ursula

Fandom: X-Files

Pairing: Mulder/Krycek

Rating: NC-17

Status: Finished

Date Posted: 1-26-04

Archive: FHSA, DIB, RAT B, WWOMB, FONXL, Gossamer

E-mail address for feedback: Fan4Richie or Ursula4X@aol.com

Classification: Post Invasion, angst, humor, slash/romance, double, triple denial with nuts on top.

Series/Sequel: Is this story part of a series: Stand-alone

Web Site: http://www.fhsarchive.com/ursula/ Main FHSA Site: http://www.fhsarchive.com/ Mirror Site: fhsarchive.popullus.org/

Disclaimers: Don't belong to me yet. When the fan fiction fairy delivers me millions, I'll buy them and share.

Warnings: Slash, lots of spoilers

Time Frame: post series, but none of the characters died except Spender SR.

Thanks to Karen Leigh S. for beta!

"Alex, Alex!" Marita's voice said.

Women! Nag, nag, nag...that's all they do. "Don't drink out of the milk bottle. Put the seat down after you've used the john. Don't use all the plastic explosive on the first corridor...

"Yeah, yeah, let me work and I'll be right there," I said.

"Alex, they're coming now," Marita shrilled. Her voice has always gone up too high when she's freaked out.

"Get moving," I growled. Without looking over my shoulder, I yelled, "Marita, move it. You know I can take care of myself."


Riiightt . . .

I can take care of myself.

Jerking my boot back on, I scowled at my best and first friend and repeated my words. Samantha threw away the shard of glass that had worked its way through my sole and said, "Sure, you can."

Samantha managed a laugh as we resumed plodding along the dusty road. I wasn't sure where the hell we were. New Mexico? Arizona? I just knew that the fucking aliens kept us moving. I was carrying Emily. It wasn't my idea. Blame Samantha.

Before I ever met Mulder, before I fell in love with him, I was primed to fall long and hard. I knew his smile. I knew the way it always ran crooked across his face and made his hazel eyes glint. I knew his strength, his humor, and his intelligence.

I heard it all from Samantha. I heard about the wonderful Fox when I crept into Sam's bed at night. I heard about him when we were all hurting from hunger because someone had broken the rules once too often. He was the hero of our fancies, the one who was going to come and save Samantha. Of course, we would be saved as well.

Blame it on my age. I was the youngest in my group. The project preferred to take the kids when they were older and tougher. They made an exception for me after they made me an orphan.

My parents had been a thorn in the side of the Old Men since I was conceived. I wasn't just a kid; I was a commodity and I belonged to the project. Mom and Dad thought they could do it, but I guess things changed when I became a reality. They ran and they kept me safe for six years before Spender's hounds hunted them down. I saw them killed. I saw my world crumple in bloody dust.

Rough hands dragged me into a car. Silent and frightened, I traveled by plane to the school. They cut my hair, which my mother had let grow long. I remember she loved my curls. In a uniform that did not fit, I sat on the thin cot where they left me, too terrified to weep.

I don't know how long I sat there before Samantha led me to dinner and coaxed me to eat. I do know that, after the cottage "parent" left, one of the older boys took my blanket. I didn't know enough to fight. The dorm was left cold to make us hardy. Hardy, hell. It killed the weaker children. I might not have made it long enough to become the rat I am if Samantha had not taken me into her bed and kept me warm.

Sam fought all of my battles for me the first few months. It took two of the bigger bullies cornering us for me to stand up for her and myself. I had picked up a pretty piece of glass when we were out on our daily hike. I had meant to look at it, to admire the glint of light off it. When Manuel bloodied Sam's nose and tried to kick her head, I scurried forward like a little rodent and stabbed blindly.

Manuel had to be taken to the infirmary. He didn't come back. I never found out if he was moved to some other part of the project or whether I made my first kill that day at the ripe age of seven.

A day later Marita was placed in the Manuel's vacant bed. She was another gently raised child, although her parents, unlike mine, yielded her as required, not willingly, but obediently. I guess the old men were worried though. They took her when she was as young as I was. I protected Marita as Sam had protected me. She learned quickly though. Marita may have looked like a little blond angel, but she was well equipped to survive even at five.

Marita was always my fierce and beautiful shadow, but I loved Samantha first. I still love her. I often wondered why I was so unlucky that neither woman was the one who could set me on fire as Mulder did. Why wonder? I was born under an unlucky star. The only good things in my life after my parents died were Marita and Samantha. And Mulder. I can't forget Mulder no matter how damned hard I try.

So here I stand or rather here I trudge, my tired, hungry body burdened by a little girl with red hair, child of my rival, child of a woman that scared the hell out of me from the day I met her.

Samantha won't let the girl die. She won't let the aliens kill her. Samantha is one tough bitch when she wants to be, but she has been on the shit list with the project a long time. Poor food, hard work, and beatings have worn her down. She can't carry Emily by herself and she won't leave her. So I stagger beneath the weight and we walk. And we walk with the sun beating down on us.

Where the hell are they taking us?


That night when they let us rest and gave us some food and water, I lay down with my head on Samantha's lap. She gripped my hand, smiling down on me. She's not as beautiful a woman as Mulder is a man, but I love her smile. There's not much I don't love about her. Sometime I think I fell in love with Mulder because he was the closest thing I could get to Samantha in a man.

Emily put her head on my chest, holding onto me. She's just a little sprout, but she's growing on me. She's a smart kid, a tough kid. She would have made it back in our old school.

Slumping down to get closer, Samantha said, "They're getting sicker, Alex."

"Yeah," I agree.

"We need to be ready. We need to get away before they decide to end it," Samantha said.

I had no doubt what she meant. We were living on borrowed time. Only the fact that these aliens had been passing as human long enough to pick up our bad habits and the ability to deny reality made them hold onto us, the children and grandchildren of the project, the hoped for bridge that would allow them to use the human population of Earth for their own means.

Our captors were dying one by one. There was just a handful left. As I watched, one of the Kurts staggered in his tracks. Greenish slag oozed from his pores. His comrades looked at him with consternation. There was a brief consultation and then the remaining aliens circled the dying one.

Samantha tugged me up. Samantha was smart. She had a sixth sense about her. "Don't lose Emily if we get separated. Take her to Scully if we don't find each other right away."

My better half smiled at me and kissed my cheek. "You give my brother my love, Alex, if you see him first."

Ah, shit . . . ah, Samantha . . .

I grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight, but her hazel eyes gazed steadily into mine. She smiled again and said, "Don't be afraid, Alex."

"I'm never fucking afraid," I lied, but I never was good at lying to Sam. God, I loved her so much.

"Heads up, Ratboy," Samantha said. She gripped my arm.

This Kurt must have been around awhile. He tried to draw on his loving brothers as they aimed the flamethrowers at him.

It was an arsonist's wet dream. There were aliens careening around, setting each other on fire. They went up exceptionally well. It must have been the oil.

The chaos gave us cover to run. Samantha and I stayed together for a long time, but at some point, we tumbled down a hill. I held onto Emily. I didn't want to face Sam if I lost her. It was late by then and very dark. I kept moving, calling Sam's name. I crashed into a small group of my fellow survivors. They kept following me. I couldn't stop them.

An hour later, I acquired one of the flamethrowers after using a piece of glass as a stiletto to kill its former owner. I'm good at killing, a fucking artist at killing. What am I supposed to be? Ashamed of it? You're alive, aren't you? Scum like me and Marita kept you that way. Live with that little tidbit in your minds.

I got my little group out of the desert and managed to get in touch with Frohike to get some money so we could travel in style. Sam hadn't checked in with my geek friends as yet. It was scaring the hell out of me.


A day or so later, I brought the rest of my strays on to the care of my three dwarves . . . you know them, Mulder's Lone Gunmen. I adopted them for sentimental reasons. Hey, every rat should have a pet. However, they proved unexpectedly useful, very much worth their keep.

My fellow victims (Yeah, that word sucks and I'll kill you if you ever describe me like that.) might have been safe going back to their old lives, those who ever had a life before becoming a lab rat, but I wanted to be sure. Until the last alien was a puddle of green goo, I thought we should lie low.

Frohike looked at me with that old gorilla look of curiosity in his eyes. "You taking the kid? You can leave her. Hell, Byers and I have been saying that our little Langly could use someone to play with."

"Afraid you're going to have your next kid naturally," I said back. "I have to get this kid to Scully."

Geek drool . . . that's the down side of making pets of them.

Frohike said, "Say hello to Scully for me."

"You forgetting that you're still dead?" I snapped.

Man, I hate that kicked puppy look. Makes me want to shoot their eyes out.


Marita found me a few days after I settled my refuges with the gunmen. I had settled down at the summerhouse Sam and I owned to wait for some results from the Gunmen. She looked great, entirely back to her cool blond self. She was disappointed that Sam wasn't with me. She had delivered the magic potion to the alien rebels. They had delivered more of the vaccine that would protect our hybrid brethren, an important point to me as one of the most prominent examples was my beloved Mulder.

Looking at me as if I had screwed up again, Marita said, "I'll go find Sam. Give it a few days and it should be safe to give Emily to her mother. Stay away from Mulder. He's being watched."

Yeah, like I didn't know Mulder was being watched. He was always being watched. There's enough videotape of us screwing to make some gay porn purveyor rich. I would obey Marita though. She has good survival skills like I do. We both do fine when we don't end up being too smart for our own good.

Marita hugged me before she left and said, "Don't worry. We would feel it if anything happened to Sam."

I guess that's true. It was tough shit losing my arm, but I would feel the loss of Sam more than I ever felt that missing limb.

Emily climbed in my lap and pressed her red curls against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her. She was all I had to hang onto.

Telling myself that the time wasn't right to turn Emily over to her mother, I stayed at the summerhouse. I figured it would make watching the kid easier. You can see the enemy coming a long way on a beach. My mistake. It turned out that the squirt had inherited a nautical gene from Mommy. You could not keep the kid away from the water.

As I tried to nap, Emily tugged at my arm. She wanted to play on the beach again. I wanted to refuse, but she was a persistent creature, looking at me with the good doctor's clear blue eyes. Emily is Scully all over again, a tougher Scully, and free of the traditional beliefs that blinded Mulder's partner. Still, Emily had the intelligence, the honest nature, and the kindness that Mulder said his partner had. Of course, I had no fond memories of Scully, but then I think she always regarded me as her rival even before she knew I was her enemy. It took me a while to get past how much Emily looked like her, but the kid was growing on me. Damn, I knew I should have taken antibiotics.

Grumbling, I made Emily wear her sun hat. Sam always reminded me that red heads need extra protection from the sun. We went out on the beach, Emily squatting at intervals to pick up shells. When she found living sea creatures, she always put them back in the ocean after examining them curiously. When Scully gets this kid, she has to get her a dog or something. Emily is crazy about animals.

The kid doesn't ask about Sam. That's not the way she was raised. She saw a lot of people she cared about go away and never come back. She keeps her questions inside now. I wanted to go looking for Sam. I had lost a lot of people I cared about too, but Sam wasn't going to be one of them. If you knew Sam, you would know why Mulder wrapped his adult life around getting his sister back. I always wished I could have told him. I know Sam did too, but it wouldn't have been safe for Mulder. Spender intended to get Sam to drag her brother into the project, but she wouldn't buy it. He ended up using her clones as bait. I think Mulder could always sense the difference. You can't clone what makes Sam, Sam. She was one of a kind. Not even Spender could bring her entirely to heel. She wouldn't betray her brother nor anyone else she cared about. When I grow up, I want to be Sam.

I waited until anxiety started clawing holes in my guts. Then I decided it was time. Emily needed to go to her Mom and I had to go to find Sam.


I had promised Sam that I would deliver Emily personally to her mother. Sam can be a bitch when she doesn't get her way.

I sashayed my sweet round ass up the walkway to Scully's house. Yeah, she went for the house in the burbs now that she has her other kid back.

Emily was hanging onto me for dear life. I held her hand back, held it nearly as hard as she was holding mine.

When I knocked on the door, it didn't open instantly. Scully answered it with her FBI issue gun in her pretty little hand.

"Krycek," Scully said. Her eyes went to Emily. Emily was older than the clone Scully had briefly taken to her heart, but the resemblance was plain.

"Is this Emily? The Emily I knew?" Scully asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"Why is she alive?" Scully asked. "How is she alive?"

Mulder's partner sounded cold, but I saw the way she kept glancing at Emily and the way she couldn't help moving closer to her.

"The rebels experimented on her. They wanted to know if they could remove the Riticulan element from a subject. This was the subject they picked," I explained.

"What price am I supposed to pay for her?" Scully said. "I can't give you Mulder."

So the bitch had noticed. I kept a neutral face, not letting her know that she had scored.

"I promised an old friend that I would find a good home for her," I said, talking as if Emily was a stray kitten.

"If this is a trick, Krycek," Scully said. "You will think what those Russian peasants did to you was a quaint rural custom. I swear, I will carve your body into a lab specimen and keep you alive until you are no more than a bloody stump and a screaming head."

"Nice talk, Scully," I said. "Don't scare the kids."

William was peering around the corner. I bet she told him to hide. I had to grin at the boy. He was Mulder's kid. He was not going to follow directions. Scully might as well hang that idea up on the spot.

I could feel Emily's hand clinging harder to mine. She looked up at me, her forehead crinkling in a frown. I wanted to book it. Just start running and not stop until I was as far from Scully as I could be. The weird thing was I wanted to take Emily with me.

Instead, I shoved Emily at Scully and said, "Don't you be mean to her."

Fucking Maryland smog. It always made my eyes burn.


I always lived by the principle that you may not be able to outrun your fate, but that it's better to keep trying than to crouch like a cornered rat. So I moved. I kept traveling, going every place that Sam and I had ever been.

I was at our little house in Southern California when the truth struck me. Either Sam was dead or she was damn tired of me. I hadn't heard from Marita since she went to find Sam. The Lone Gunmen had lots to say about dying aliens and men in high places going missing, but nothing to say about Sam.

I never used to drink. I don't think I've ever been drunk more than three times in my life. I got smashed when Spender fucked up my FBI cover. I got blasted for about a month straight after I left the hospital when I lost my arm. The third time was after I stepped over Mulder when he was out of his head. I was cool enough until the job was over and then I kept flashing on his face. Mulder got to me. Mulders get under your skin and go straight to your heart.

You could ask why I was drinking. Hey, it's a dirty job but someone has to do it.

Okay, I finally accepted that I couldn't find Sam. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. Me and Sam and Marita were supposed to step out of the shadows after we won. I figured they would make a comic book out of us or something. We would be heroes.

Mulder was supposed to love me after he found out that I was his sister's best friend and that I'd saved the world. It's not that I mind the way he can't keep his hands off me, but I guess I played with girls too much when I was a kid. I wanted the L word. I wanted him to love me.

It had all gone to hell again.


Waking up, I wondered why I had fallen asleep outside and how it got so damn wet in Southern California.

"Alex, you idiot!" Sam's voice said.

Oh joy. I was probably dead from something stupid. Probably drowned myself in the toilet when I crawled in there and started barfing last night. Mulder is going to laugh his guts out.

Worse yet, if I was dead and Sam was talking to me, she was probably dead and was in hell just like me. Fucking unfair! Sam was one of the good guys. I always figured you either were one or weren't. You got a card at birth and mine said, 'Alex Krycek, bad guy, do not redeem.'

Spluttering, I finally managed to get my left arm up to shield my face. That was strange. My little oily friends grew me a new arm, but I couldn't make it work. It just hung there as useless as a diaphragm in a gay whorehouse. Now it had come up to protect my cute little nose from the relentless downpour.

Mulder's dry voice said, "Not that I'm seriously complaining, but you're drowning him, Sam."

Mulder was here too?

I opened one eye. It only took two fingers and a little persistence to crank my eyelid up.

There she was. Mulder's little sis. My surrogate 'Mom' and big sister. Sam shook a last few drops out of the enema bag she was holding above my head and laughed. Marita stood a distance back, a disgusted expression on her face.

"I found her," Marita said. "I thought I would save some time by bringing Mulder with me after I was sure all of our little friends were dead."

Shaking the enema bag again, Sam said, "Alex, I'm not going to ask you what you were doing with this."

Good thing. I hadn't just drowned my woes with sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I drank a lot over the last weeks too. Hanging out in gay biker's bar, I ended up bringing home a burly bear, who liked to clean me out thoroughly before he reamed me.

Reaching down, Mulder pulled me to my feet and dragged me into the shower. I didn't know Mulders were so big on water play.

"God, you reek!" Mulder exclaimed. "Sam, see if you can find a garbage bag in this dump."

I spluttered and shook; Mulder hadn't bothered to warm up the water and I was freezing. I sure and hell hoped that the garbage sack was for my clothing and not for me.

Mulder's hands were pretty damn good at undressing me. Of course, he had experience even if he was out of practice.

"What got into you, Alex?" Mulder demanded. "It isn't like you to go on a bender."

"I thought Sam was dead," I admitted.

"Oh," Mulder said, his voice softer.

"I couldn't find Sam," I said. "Not anywhere."

"You jerk," Mulder said. "She broke her leg heading out of the desert and holed up with some Indians. Seems they like our type and didn't mind taking care of her. Only they don't get to town very much and she had no way to tell anyone where she was. When she was well enough to get out of there, you had disappeared."

Pulling the curtain shut, Mulder reached a hand out for the garbage sack Sam held out and said, "Thanks, I'll handle the rest."

"As if I hadn't seen Alex nude a thousand times," Sam scoffed.

"I didn't need to know that," Mulder said, his tone brooding no good for me.

Sam's hand pulled the curtain open long enough to smack Mulder.

Ouch. I felt for him. Sam has one hell of a smack. I had felt it often enough.

"Be nice," Sam said. "He was like my younger brother, doofus. I'm not the one who jumped his bones."

Rubbing his head, Mulder bitched. "Your clones were nicer."

"Yes? Well, that's what should have clued you in that it wasn't really me. I was always the tougher one," Sam said.

She was. Having known them both, I knew that either Mulder was good to have at your back, but I know why they took Sam, beyond the issue of the high level tampering with Mulder's genes. Sam had a mental toughness that had survived everything they threw at her. The only problem was that they underestimated her. When Spender took her home, I think he meant to persuade her that he was 'daddy'. Sam might have played the game for a while, but she had decided when she was still at the school that the only ones she could really trust was herself and maybe Marita and I. She ran and managed to stay gone for two years. The only reason they captured her at all was that she tried to spring the rest of us.

I heard the door slam as Sam went out. Mulder stepped out of the shower long enough to shed his soaked clothing and lock the door. I wondered if that meant I was going to get lucky or get the shit beaten out of me. Maybe both, considering my history with Mulder.

Mulder dragged my sopping clothes into the bag and tied it off as if it was a biohazard and considering the way they smelled, he might have been right.

At first, Mulder concentrated on getting me clean. That took some effort. I knew he was ready to play when he subjected my neck to the taste test. I leaned back and gave him more of my throat on which to chew. He nibbled and licked, working his way down to tongue my nipples into tight hard peaks. I didn't dare push his head down to a lower level, but I was hoping.

Yes, you can feel that lower lip dragging over you like a silken cloak. Mulder has a big mouth, but it's a sweet one when you give it the right kind of work to do. I wished my legs weren't so wobbly.

"Just a second," Mulder let go of my cock, the suction breaking with a pop.

Unlocking the door, Mulder yelled, "Sam, Marita, go shopping or something."

"Don't be so damn modest," Sam shouted back.

I added a plaintive, "Sam . . ."

"Oh, all right," Sam said. "We'll be back in two hours. There's no food here anyway."

Marita's voice added, "And we're taking your credit card, Alex."

Well, I always said whatever isn't gold, is platinum. I don't give a shit anyway. The NRA paid the credit card. They think that they are spending their money on a lobbyist with deep connections and who am I to disillusion them? Let the girls have some fun on the NRA. Mulder and I were obviously going to have more.


I hadn't lost the inspiration yet. Mulder helped me out of the tub and we moved to the bedroom. Marita or Sam had cleaned it up and changed the sheets. Good thing. I hadn't been back near that bed since the bear had said he had to go back to work.

Tumbling onto the bed, we wrestled around for a while before I graciously decided that Mulder could fuck me.

He almost always liked me on my back or riding him when we did it this way. I always knew that he hadn't really stopped caring because of that. Mulder didn't want to love me. It just happened and the poor jerk didn't know how to stop. I liked it better this time. There was a world of caring in his eyes.

Mulder liked to talk. Even with his cock up my ass, he stopped to smolder at me. "You couldn't tell me my sister was alive."

"She would kick my ass if I did," I said. "If you were one hundred percent sure it was Sam, they would have dangled her a bait and ending up owning your soul."

"Alex, you . . . " Mulder said.

"Mulder, shut up and fuck me," I ordered.

Mulder looked at me wryly but he got wise. He obeyed.

His cock felt hot even through the latex. He was arched, the tendons of his neck as tight as the ones in his thighs as he thrust in and out of me at just the right pace. My legs locked over his shoulders as if to keep him in me. As if he would have tried to get away. We were both caught by each other, but it wasn't going to be a problem from now on.

His body was lean and hard, shining like a god's with the sweat of his exertion. My body was singing as our hands joined over my cock. I was wailing for it, my voice cracking as I felt the rush of sensation setting me on fire. He moved faster in me, his hand frantic on my cock. I pushed back as if I wanted him deeper and let me tell you he was deep enough. Our eyes met when we came. Windows of the soul . . . so what if mine was a little shop worn? Mulder looked at me as if I was his angel. And I was. His.


The rest of it is an anticlimax. Sam dragged me back to Maryland to make my amends to a little lady there by the name of Emily.

I almost thought there was something fatally wrong when Emily hugged me hard. My insides turned to mush. I felt like I was melting inside. Actually crossed my mind that I had been replaced without even me knowing it and that I was turning into green slime.

I guess it was just my stone cold heart warming up. Emily planted a kiss on my nose and said, "I knew you would come back."

Scully rolled her eyes and muttered, "My daughter suffers from terrible taste in men just like my partner."

I shrugged. At least one thing was still the same. Scully didn't like me one bit.


So there we were. It wasn't a perfect world and Mulder and I didn't get to ride off into the sunset, but I guess I was done with traveling my lonely roads alone. In fact, Samantha threatened to nail my shoes to the floor if I ever so much as grabbed a wild weekend without telling her. Knowing Sam, I better listen. My feet would have been still in my shoes when she got the hammer and nails.

The end

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Ursula