Alex sat on his couch in front of the television, trying to keep his
eyes off the scene but not succeeding. His first instict was to turn
it off, but curiosity killed that, and as much as he didn’t want to see
what happened when the President and Mulder showed off the two leaders
of the Cause, he *did*. The bandages wrapped around his chest and
torso itched; the deep gashes were healing slowly. And the
heavy knitt sweater he wore didn’t help matters any. It was the least
he could do to satisfy the tearing, aching pain he felt swarm all over
his body. He betrayed them; he deserved much worse.
|I want to be there, instead of here. I want to go to the Camp
with the others. I betayed them, betrayed their trust, betrayed their
friendship. I’m not worthy of living. I should be shot.|
But he knew, all too well, what would happen if he tried to get
himself shot. Siberia, for the lot of them.
The President stood tall and proud behind the podeum.
Reporters and photographers cried out questions and snapped pictures.
Cameramen fought through the large crowd, twisting their cameras,
trying to achieve the best angle. Every broadcast station was tuned in
to the President’s speech. And since there was no cable in his room,
there was no escaping that particular show, even if he could flip the
channel.
|Look at him, so giddy, so proud of his work. How could he be
so happy? He has just ruined the World for everybody, and he doesn’t
even know it. Doesn’t he know that Congress had just passed a new law
installing hidden cameras in every house? Doesn’t he realize that the
American People will be watched, scrutinized, and taken from their
homes if they utter a single, traitorous phrase? I bet he doesn’t even
know what’s going to hit. Wipe that smug smile right off his face.|
No matter how bitter Alex tried to make himself, the tears just
kept falling from his eyes. He was once a strong man, never to shed a
tear at anything, but after Mulder had his fun, Alex was reduced to
nothing. Traitor. That’s all he was. A traitor to his people, a
traitor to the Cause, a traitor to Americans. So the tears fell,
but they did nothing to quench the knotts in his stomach, nor the
unending pain that gripped his body.
He had tried to hate Mulder, despise the man who broke him, but
it never worked. Fox Mulder owned him, owned his heart, owned his
love, and Alex knew nothing would change that. Not torture, not
watching his friends sent to the Camp, not the death of the Cause. He
knew it was sick and delusional to still be in love with Mulder after
all the terrible things the man had done, but it couldn’t be helped.
Love knows no enemies nor friends. That’s what Jack had said. Even
when Christina called Jack names and told him that she hated him, he
never let go. That was how Christina came to be his, and how their
love grew, and how the child had been born. At least the three year
old girl was safe, at a friend of Jack’s who knew nothing of the Cause.
Alex thanked God for small favors.
God. Where was God now, when America was about to crumble,
when his friends were going off to the Camp, when nothing would be the
same again? Dana had taught him to keep faith, but Alex did not know
if faith could keep him sane anymore. There were times, dark times,
when the strength of a higher power made Alex feel invincible, enabling
him to accomplish anything. But now, at this dark and desperate time,
Alex thought God was dead.
|Where is God now to smite me dead?|
The President’s speech began, my fellow Americans, and all that
crap. Then he began talking about the New America, and how everyone
will be safe in their homes.
|Yeah, safe until they turn their backs.|
The speech quickly turned to the Cause, the end of the Cause,
and the uprising of a Newer, Better America. He introduced Special
Investigator Fox Mulder, the leader of the downfall of the Cause, and
asked for a speech. Mulder took the podeum, and began spouting words
of freedom and unity.
|Where will your unity be in five years, Mulder, when every
American citizen is cowering under their beds from fear of being taken
away to the Camp? Where will your freedom be when everyone is locked
up in some dark cell underneath American soil? Will you still be able
to hold your head up high and chant those words, Mulder? Will you
still be able to look at yourself in the mirror, knowing that you, and
you alone caused America to turn into those countries we fight? Those
ideas we hate? Or will you become one of them, fighting against the
People for conformity and obedience. Tell me, Mulder. Tell me.|
Two people were introduced to the stage, the leaders of the
Cause. Alex’s eyes widened from fear and regret to see Walter and
Dana, dressed in the height of the Camp fashion, decorated in heavy
steal chains that ran from neck to ankle. They both held themselves
upright, staring straight out at the crowd. Alex felt his heart sink
as he took inventory of the cuts and bruises on both faces. Walter had
large purple circles surrounding each eye, while Dana’s nose was
swollen, and her lip was cut, covered with dried blood. The tears
started again, tears for what happend to his friends, blurring his view
for a moment. In that moment he could see Mulder stepping from the
podeum, whispering to Dana and Walter.
|Are you telling them to enjoy themselves, Mulder? Are you
telling them what a bastard I am for betraying their trust? Are you
wishing them a safe journey? Are you telling them how the Cause will
never save the World?|
Alex knew Jack and the Lone Gunmen were already at the Camp,
being trained, working, being tortured. It should be him at the Camp,
going through the motions, not them. They did not deserve it. They
did not deserve the punishment. If he could reverse time, maybe he
could be stronger.
|Who are you kidding, Alex? Mulder could have broken you with
his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back. You are weak, you
are pathetic, you are scum, Alex Krycek. If ever you were worthless,
this is the time. You will just have to wake up every morning and look
at yourself in the mirror and know that you are nothing. Can you even
look at yourself anymore?|
The crowd on the television roared with applause. Mulder
called up two officers from the Camp to escort Walter and Dana away
from the stage. They were handled none too gently, shoved into the
back of a van and driven away. Alex groaned. He would never see them
again.
When it was all over, he turned off the television. Curling
into himself, he wept, for them, for his lost friends, for his country,
for the lost Cause.
The shrill ring of the phone beside the couch startled him. He
lifted the reciever and pulled it to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Did you like my little show?” Mulder.
“Why did you have to flaunt them in front of everybody?
Couldn’t you have just brought them to the camp with the others? Why
did you have to tell all of America what they had done?”
“Because the people had a right to know. And besides, the
President wanted the Americans to feel safe again, knowing the leaders
of the Cause were caught and brought to justice.”
“You don’t know the meaning of the word justice.”
Mulder laughed, a deep, throaty sound. “I may not have a
dictionary, but you are still a traitor. You should have heard how
Dana Scully cried when she found out you betrayed her. Wept like a
little girl. Quite charming. Although, the beating I gave to her face
helped.”
That was a lie. Dana would never weep in front of a man like
him. “You fucking bastard. What gives you the right. . .”
“I was just promoted, Alex.” The use of his first name gave
Alex the chills. “I am now the Leader and Chief of the President’s new
campagn, as well as continuing my old job. We are going to rise
America from the ashes.”
|Just keep telling yourself that.|
“So why are you calling me?”
“I just wanted to hear how your voice trembles over the phone.
Very sexy.”
“Fuck you, Mulder.” And with that, he hung up the phone.
|And on the eighth day, God created chaos, which rained and
rained down upon His people until there was nothing left to ruin. And
on the ninth day, God created the President, who would take over the
world like Hitler tried, and make the People bow to his whim. One the
tenth day, God created the Cause, to fight for the People and win. But
on the eleventh day, God created a traitor, who would betray His
People, thus letting the President win, and letting the world fall into
the chaos and ruin. God, help me.|
FIN 10/16/98