Ok. Don't panic. Krycek's face is really close to yours, and he's sitting on you, almost naked because the towel was beginning to come undone and now it's completely dark. She could still feel his breath on her face, but his grip on her wrists went slack. Without stopping to think, she threw her face forward and made hard contact with his forehead. He shouted in surprise and let go of her. She shoved blindly and felt him tumble to the side, then scrambled to her feet. Lightning brightened the room, allowing her to see the exit. She was just reaching for the handle when Krycek's weight slammed her into the door. He practically clawed at her, mumbling incoherently. His hands gripped her shoulders like steel clamps as he began shaking her. If she got turned around she could at least try to kick him in the balls. But he was even more determined to keep her still. The smooth wood of the door pressed against her cheek, and the hard length of his body pressed against her back. She willed herself to relax, hoping to fool him. No such luck. If anything, his grip got tighter. After a few seconds his mumbling became more coherent.
"Just stop, okay? Jesus Christ, I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm not, I swear." His head fell gently to her shoulder, and it was then that she realized he was shaking. He sucked in gulping lungfuls of air, sounding like he was having trouble breathing.
It was at this point that she could have overpowered him, but the part of her brain that was the doctor ignored the part that was the FBI agent and asked, "Krycek?" He wasn't pressing her against the door anymore, but still had her in a firm grip. Clinging to her.
"Krycek? Are you okay?"
He mumbled against her neck and then stepped back slowly. She shivered at the loss of his warmth. She needed to get dry and warm before she caught a cold.
Scully turned and squinted into the darkness, finally making out his dark shape. Lightning flashed again, illuminating his body. Both hands hid his bowed face, and--Good Lord. The towel has left the building. Despite the situation, she had a feeling that image was one that was going to linger in her memory. Going against her better judgment, she reached up and--
--had her wrist caught in a bone crushing grip.
"What are you doing?" he hissed.
Trying to help apparently. That was it. She was *still* hallucinating, and any minute the theme from the Twilight Zone was going to start playing. "I--I don't know," she finally stuttered, wishing she could see his face. If something really was wrong, she was legally obligated to help. But so help her God if this was some sort of joke. That stupid vibrator wouldn't be aimed at his head next time.
He let go of her arm. "Hold on," he said quietly, dissolving into the blackness. She groped for the doorknob and prepared herself to run, just in case. But where would she go? The storm sounded even worse than before, there was no power, she had nothing with her. She was stuck in the house with Alex Krycek.
There were a few curses and stumbles, and finally a tiny flame erupted in the kitchen. Her heart actually stopped for a minute at another sight of him naked. He lit some candles then made his way back to her, pausing to scoop up a towel and wrap it around his waist. He held out the lighter, and she saw that his hands were still trembling.
"If you can find the rest, light them."
