Losing It: Take I
Pairing doesn't really apply to this story, but for classification purposes Mulder/Skinner/Krycek
PG for language
Vague reference to Piper Maru / Apocrypha
Special thanks to Finn for helping with my technical issues.
Mulder, Skinner and Krycek wake up in a hotel room only to find that not everything is as they left it.
Alex Krycek, Fox Mulder, Walter Skinner and all other X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions.
No infringement of rights is intended. All the rest belong to me.
Losing It, Take I by Zoë
Saturday, 7:43 A.M.
My head feels like it's going to split open.
Christ, what happened?
I attempt to open my eyes but my lids feel too heavy. I start to move but am abruptly stilled when I feel the shifting of a body on either side of me. The body on my left feels tiny, almost like a...
Forcing my eyes open, I blink against the faint light and look. It is! There's a baby nestled in the crook of my arm. Well, maybe not a baby. More like a toddler. Two years old or so.
He appears to be asleep. At least, I think it's a 'he.' Downy black hair, rosy cheeks. How did I wind up with a sleeping baby?
I look to my right and discover a young boy slumbering on my other shoulder. Brown hair, probably less than ten. Still shouldn't be there.
This is surreal. Where am I?
Glancing around, I find a run of the mill motel room. How did I get here and where's... Oh, shit!
I jerk upright, dislodging both kids. What happened to Mulder? We were... we were investigating a tip that came in late Friday evening about possible Consortium activity at a facility in Rhode Island, but I don't remember anything else.
There's a faint moan behind me. I look back to see the older kid, eyes still closed, touching the side of his head as if to soothe a headache. The baby is squirming across the bed, vivid green eyes tracking me warily. Warily? How can a baby be wary?
His hand gropes at the waist of his little red shorts as he says, "Who the fuck are you?"
What the hell?
I think I spoke but that wasn't my voice. Something is wrong, very wrong. I look away from the teenaged punk on the bed to see what's wrong with my body. Pudgy little legs are sticking out from red shorts. What am I seeing? I feel with my hand... is that a... No! It can't be. I feel again. It is! Oh my god... I'm wearing a diaper!
My hands... they're small. Everything about me is small... and soft and... I'm dreaming. That's the only logical explanation. I close my eyes and take a deep breath but the voice startles me.
"What did you say?" The kid's voice sounds shocked.
I look at him. He's maybe about sixteen, brown eyes, dark brown hair, wearing jeans and an Aerosmith t-shirt. Doesn't look too threatening, if you discount his taste in music.
"I said, who the fuck are you?" There's that voice again.
A moan draws my attention? Another kid--younger, maybe eight or nine--starts to sit up, clutching his head.
I can sympathize my head hurts, too.
Man, I get so tired of waking up in strange places with some body part hurting. I quickly check the room for possible threats. Just a couple kids. A big teenager and a baby.
Just my luck... saddled with two kids and a blinding headache.
But how did this even happen? I was... what was I doing? I received a tip about a Consortium experiment in Rhode Island and... fuck, my head hurts.
The baby is staring at me intently. Christ, he's got pretty eyes, kind of reminds me of Krycek. I don't like that rat bastard, but I have to admit he's got some amazing peepers.
Thinking of Krycek floods my brain with memories. We found the facility, but it was almost deserted. Except... I remember seeing Krycek. Naked. Strapped to an exam table. And that's it... that's all I can remember.
A voice draws me out of my ruminations. "And who the hell are you?" Did that just come from the baby?
I stare at him for a second. "Did you say something?" I must be hearing things. Two year olds don't say 'hell.'
He looks mutinous. "Yeah! Who are you two?" Getting past my shock, I hear a note of fear in his voice. I must be dreaming.
I start mumbling to myself, "God, I'm hearing things. Abductees often report auditory hallucinations. Of course, I'm not an abductee... that I know of, anyway." My voice is odd. Higher in pitch, I think. "Maybe we were grabbed at the lab, and it's years later..."
There's the sound of quickly indrawn breath and I look at the teenager. He's glancing between the baby and me with an expression that's part disbelief, part speculation and part horror. Suddenly he jumps off the bed and runs into the bathroom. "Oh, fuck!" His yell echoes through the room.
He returns and stares at me. "Mulder, if this isn't reversible, I'm going to have you on wiretaps for a year!"
I blink at him. What? He talks just like Skinner.
The teenager glares at the baby. "Krycek, this sounds completely absurd given the circumstances, but you're under arrest."
End Take I
4 July 2004
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter