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Schism - Part 2/3
Please see Part 1 for full disclaimer, but nothing belongs
to me, not the X-Files, not Marita, not Krycek.
Spoiler warning, Season 5, Patient X, Red & the Black
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Marya is silent now. Perhaps she's asleep.
"I'm awake."
It amazes me, this connection of ours. Even at the beginning, when I
knew her only as the Smoker's bitch and my 'parole officer', I was
struck by the intensity of my response to her. True, my mind had been
fucked as hell and I'd begun looking at oil slicks with genuine
affection, but still -
Marita. My Marya. My foil, my counterpart.
We are perfect together.
"Marya." I try to make my voice soft and caressing. I used to think that
I never could be tender, that it had gotten beaten out of me with all
the other crap that Quantico taught as truth - trust, obedience and
patriotism.
But once I had lain with Marya I knew I could never treat her the way
I did all the others. In fact, I wished there had never been any others.
"Marya," God, her skin, so soft, still wet, "Whatever happened, it
doesn't matter. I swear. Listen to me, I have dirt on them like you can
only imagine -"
"Stop right there. Don't say anymore."
Her voice, emotionless; her hands covering her ears.
"Marya?"
"I want to live, Krycek. Don't tell me anything."
"Marya. Listen to me." My begging, imploring, useless hand outstretched
in a gesture of appeal that even I would find hard to resist, "We can
be free of them, Marya. Think of it, FREE! Trust me.."
"I can't!"
There's silence, as I try to find the words to get through to her.
"Marya, I know how frightened you must be."
"No. You don't."
"Dammit, Marya, at least LOOK at me!"
She does, but there is no joy in her obedience. I let my hand fall back
down to the bedspread. Useless. As usual.
We are silent for a long time. Looking at each other, but not really
seeing.
She breaks the silence first.
"Alexei," her voice catching, my heart turning as she spoke my name,
"You're in too deep. I can't go with you."
"No, no, my Marya. Just hear what I have to say."
"Alex-"
"Marya! Give me a damn chance will ya?"
"NO!"
"What?"
"NO, NO, NO! I don't want to hear it!" Rising into hysteria,
she claps her hands over her ears and screams.
My hand makes a sharp *thwack* against her cheek.
Then silence.
And fear. For the first time this evening, real fear.
Cold fear.
Marya's unmoving on the sheets, her perfect cheek unmarred
by a blow meant to stun, not to hurt.
Marya.
Afraid.
"They already know."
Her silence fills the void left by the words.
Roaring in ears. Silence is so loud. The sound of silence.
Shattered by a short laugh. It sounds bitter, frightening.
"Wasn't it good for you too?"
Frightening me, Alex Krycek, who vowed never to feel again, on the
day his father threw him out of the house. At ten. To live on
the streets.
Bit by bit as the words come tumbling out, the shell encloses me, bit
by bit.
Put a piece of shit inside an oyster and watch it grow into a pearl...
"I thought I wanted you, Alex. I still do. But I can't, can't risk it.
Not now. God, if you only knew - knew them as I do. You haven't been
with them as long, known - SEEN - the things they're capable of -"
"Tell me."
"No. I can't."
"Why?"
Silence.
.
Understanding dawns, again too slowly, again too late.
"You - "
.
"*You* told -"
.
"You told *him*."
.
"About us?"
.
Silence
.
"What did he do to you? "- I'm clinging to a remnant of sanity,
of hope, of the thought of the life we might still be able to lead.
Heartbeat. Say it Marya, say it -
"Nothing."
"YOU'RE LYING!"
"NO."
"You told him about us!"
Silence.
"He knows you're here. Because you told him. Willingly."
Silence.
Yes.
"And you'll go back to him. To his bed."
Silence.
"Slut."
.
"SLUT!"
.
"ANSWER ME GODDAMN YOU!"
Roar of backhand. She holds her hand to her mouth. Blood drips.
My hand stops. Retreats.
Turn away from her. Cower.
*What have I done?*
My lips are against the cold plastic, biting deep.
*I wish I could feel something.*
Splinters in my mouth and I feel the warmth flowing.
"I never meant to hurt you."
It sounds incongruous coming from her, with her bleeding mouth and
tiny hands. But it's my hearts blood and she doesn't care.
After a moment she picks up her clothes and dresses. Adjusts her skirt.
Turns to leave.
Stops.
Says.
"It isn't a game, you know. You play it like it is, but it isn't
a game."
She waits. For an answer?
"Alex?"
I stare at the wall.
"A-Alex?"
Damn. Damn, damn, damn, she's going to cry.
"I want to live."
It's a breathy whisper and I nearly turn around, but -
*Don't go...*
But it's in my head not my mouth and for once, she doesn't
hear.
"I'll do anything I can to survive."
The door closes softly behind her.
Good exit line.
~ end part 2/3