Title: Loss
Author: Belladonna
Pairing: Krycek/Marita
Rating: Hell, I don't know-I've never done this before. R?
Spoilers: Existence. Other wise known as the "ep that never happened". How's the weather on the river Denial this time of year? Don't get excited, I'm on the next ship back there. This just came to me, and you know the muses.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Hey, wait; CC threw them out with the trash didn't he? Mine now surfer boy.
Warnings: Refers to a character death
Status: New/Complete
Archive: Sure, just let me know, k?
Feedback: belladonna81575@yahoo.com
Thanks: Lorelei, my beta and friend-who understands what a big deal this is!
Summary: I'll never leave you Marita. Never.
Dedication: Again, to Lorelei-honestly, without you none of this would have come about. And to Ronen, who made sure I had lovely memories to use in this.
Author's Notes: At end.
Marita eyed the plastic videocassette that lay on the dining room table before her. The black plastic itself wasn't inherently evil, she supposed. Only what was contained on the wound tape within. She reached for the glass with shaking hands, tilting it to one side, watching the light prisming through the amber liquid.
Whiskey.
She tossed the drink back, pouring another even before the burn left her throat.
He always preferred vodka, chilled to the point of freezing, the clear liquid glittering as he put the glass to his perfect lips.
A true Russian, her Alex.
-a small laughing dark haired boy holding her hand in his as they ran through the grass towards the red front door of her house-
"Fuck." She murmured, slamming the heavy glass down on the tabletop.
-a peal of childish laughter as a snowball struck her chest-
With a heavy sigh she rose slowly, her bones protesting the movement after being still so long. How long had she been sitting there staring at the tape? She started to glance over at the clock before realizing that she didn't care. Time had no meaning anymore.
The tape in one hand, her full glass in the other, she made her way to the couch. Stark black leather, ice white carpets, glass tables, gleaming chrome-the perfect modern room.
-a dingy dark apartment barely big enough for the two bodies huddled on the cold floor his wrapped around hers as if to shield her from the chill-
She took another drink of her whiskey as she gently, almost reverently pressed the tape into the VCR.
Her hands barely shook now.
A soft shuddering breath escaped her as her body curved into the soft leather. No, she would not cry yet. Not yet. Tears were a weakness she could not afford.
Another too large mouthful of warm whiskey as she pressed Play.
-the smell of her mother, the heat from the wood burning stove the feel of sasha's small hand around hers warm cookies cold milk-
A stark image filled the screen. Marita sat silently watching Alex Krycek hold a gun on Fox Mulder in the Hoover parking garage. There was no sound, only the harshly lit desperation in Alex's eyes, racing through his too thin body. He didn't want to shoot Mulder, but he would do it if he had to.
That was Alex through and through. He'd do whatever he had to.
Because of the absence of sound the shock of seeing Alex double over was sharper, more intense. Her whole body strained towards the screen as she watched Walter Skinner step forward, gun held out and ready. She saw the anguish on Alex's face as he reached for his gun with his shaking, blood-covered hand.
-sasha's breath on her face his lips on hers his strong hands covering her shoulders her breasts her hips-
The second shot sent Alex to his knees, his mouth yawning open in a mute cry of agony as his elbow exploded. His eyes shocked and even a little frightened, but there was something else-something behind those wide green eyes.
Something like surrender. Like a truth revealed.
-the sharp almost painful slide of his body inside of hers for the first time-
His prosthetic hand pressed against the grip of the gun as he pushed it across the rough concrete towards Skinner, Alex's mouth forming desperate words that she couldn't understand.
-his moan his cry into the shell of her ear his strong legs braced between her narrow thighs his beating heart pressed to hers-
A quiet gasp escaped her as she watched Alex's eyes, darkened with pain, but still beautiful, shifted from man to man. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Skinner brought his weapon up, firing again. Alex's lean body spinning around, twisting, as he seemed to speak one last time.
-sasha's beautiful lips forming familiar words i love you i love you i love i love over and over again pressing warm kisses to her forehead her cheeks her eyelids her lips-
His body falling to dirty concrete, arms and legs splayed out in a tangle.
-i'll take care of you marita i promise we'll be together forever just us i promise-
The growing pool of blood under his sable hair.
-the feel of his hair slipping between her fingers the warm curve of his skull under her palm-
Marita tossed back the rest of the whiskey as she watched Mulder speed off to rescue Scully and her precious child while Alex lay, cooling and bleeding on the dirty concrete. Skinner striding forward to lean over
-I'll never let anyone keep us apart mari never-
the body
-the taste of his tanned skin under her mouth-
to root through the pockets of the heavy black coat. For the first time in days a near smile stretched across tired shadowed features. "No luck Walt." She murmured softly, the smile becoming the grimace of a cornered animal. Her blue eyes skittered from the screen to the zippered leather case still sitting on the gleaming surface of the black lacquered table.
Her eyes turned back to the screen to see Skinner strike Alex's cold
-the tiny little sapphire ring sasha gave her on her sixteenth birthday glittering like her blue blue eyes he said-
bloody face over and over again, spittle flying from his lips as they formed silent curses at the crumpled man before him.
"He knew." She said, her voice rusty from disuse. "He knew you'd never keep your part of the bargain."
Marita quickly pressed stop before she had to watch Skinner load Alex's body into the back of his SUV like a bag of garbage. She had seen the proof of Walter Skinner's treachery with her own eyes. She didn't need to see anything else.
-the gleam in sasha's green eyes as he reached out warm welcoming arms to her when she told him of their child-
Another heavy sigh escaped as she forced her weary body to rise from the couch. As the leather shifted the faint smell of spicy cologne rose around her. The smell was so like him that it was nearly a physical sensation.
-sitting in the warm vee of his legs under a willow tree blue eyes glued to the strength in his muscular forearms as he peeled an orange for her the scent sharp and wonderful-
A sudden sharp pain in her heart startled her, and the heavy tumbler slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers. "No!" she ground out through her tight throat. Her eyes were drawn to the beauty of the prism light glinting through shards of glass. A false beauty, a broken beauty. One she knew would cut if she reached for it.
Like his beauty.
That was her problem, she knew. She always reached anyway. And she always bled in the end.
-their daughter moving in her abdomen as sasha held her small hand tightly emerald green eyes wide with awe and love and fear-
"No time to mourn yet Marita." She straightened up, squaring her shoulders, fastening the navy blue suit jacket she still wore around her slender waist. As she moved through the room back to the table she reached for her gun. Her hands no longer shook at all. Even though it was cold and heavy the feel of the gun
-listen to me marita you have to bring it up like you're pointing your finger then you won't have to aim-
was comforting. Familiar. As was the faint smell of gun oil and leather that rose from the lining of the box the gun had been stored in.
It felt like home.
-you have to learn to shoot marita i have a chance to make a life for us but i have to leave for a little while just for a while i won't leave you without protection i don't want to leave you at all-
It felt like him. She tucked the gun into the holster and fastened it to the waistband of her skirt. "Damn him." She whispered furiously. "Damn the old man, damn the aliens, damn Walter Skinner…and damn him!" For just a second Marita was sure she would lose the battle with her tears. But, she did what Alex had taught her to do. She just turned them off. There would be plenty of time for her mourning later.
-the look in his green eyes as he turned away from the walking corpse she had become-
She picked up the zippered case that held the palm pilot Walter Skinner had shot a man down in cold blood for.
-i'm so sorry marita she was beautiful she was perfect she looked like you she had your hair tears tumbling over sharp slavic cheekbones to fall into blond hair-
One last look around the apartment as she started to close the door behind her. There was nothing left without him. Her heart had been torn open to bleed everything good and welcoming and wonderful out onto that cold concrete with Alex's lifeblood. There was nothing left but emptiness.
And vengeance.
-a tiny grave a tinier casket cold tears on her pale cheeks sasha's still hand wrapped around her own his tears falling on the fresh wound in the earth-
With a sigh that sounded suspiciously like a sob Marita closed the door firmly on her life. She had to go. She had to avenge her Sasha, her lover, her life.
-i'll never leave you marita never-
***
Author Notes: This is my first fan fic. Yeah I know, I got to the party late. Story of my life. If you want to feedback: belladonna81575@yahoo.com but go easy on me, huh? First time and all, you know? Flames will most likely make me cry, and then I will build small incendiary devices with them.
On to Elegy
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