Title: Complications
Author: peja
Warning(s): Angst, Mpreg
Spoilers: nope
Series/Sequel: I sincerely hope not, but who knows what evil lurks...
Warnings: Mpreg
Disclaimers: Not mine

Archive: Yes, but ask first, include the complete story and provide a URL to the archive

Summary: an arrest turns into something quite extraordinary

Notes/acknowledgments: this is a response to todays story prompt "It was supposed to be simple, until...." on http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Tenminuteswiththemuse General thanks to all of you folks who are requesting short fics and improvs in the various fandoms. You're keeping the words flowing.


I.

Simple... It was supposed to be simple, until suddenly it wasn't simple at all. Until in a topsy-turvy alternate reality the whole fabric of what can and can't be was ripped asunder and cast into a roiling maelstrom of 'what the fuck' non-reality.

Big shock there. Alex Krycek and simple are like water and oil. Completely and utterly combustible in a not so very rules of physics kind of way.

Fox Mulder had responded to a late night meeting with Walter Skinner. the reason, capture the bane of both men's lives and take him down hard, rules ad regs be damned. Skinner had gotten a mysterious phone call, he'd explained, telling him he could find the devious triple agent at a certain run down rat hole of an apartment complex.

A bit of discreet questioning had confirmed that Krycek had gone to ground inside the apartment five months before and had not come out since. Not once.

Food and supplies were delivered by strict schedule. The man in question never opened his door to the delivery people, leaving the payments in an envelope taped to the door, usually minutes before the delivery was made. The delivery folk left their burdens by the door.

No one, but no one would ever go near that door even if the supplies remained outside for several hours. Not even with an offer of cash.

They claimed the man within was not human. Rumors of demons and possession spiraled around any conversation what included his name.

Mulder had chuckled quietly as the riff-raff had waxed romantic about the villainous Kyrcek. Skinner, at his side, had remained quiet and somber.

And in the end, the two FBI agents had formed a plan of attack and mounted their take-down.

At precisely 3 a.m. they had drawn their guns and hammered brutally on the door, rattling it on its rusty hinges.

The response from inside was a hideous, animal death keen that seemed to go on for far longer than any man could go without taking a breath.

Exchanging shocked glances, they both hit the door, bursting it apart into hundreds of rotted splinters. The inside of the apartment was stark, immaculate in it spartan way. A television, a chaise, a table and chair. Nothing that said this is the person I am.

More importantly, no Krycek. Just that whimpering, primitive sound coming from a room deeper in the apartment.

They moved in, minding each other's back. Opening door after empty roomed door until they came to a bedroom containing one roll-away cot.

Contrary to the rest of the immaculate apartment, the cot was stained with fresh blood. A lot of fresh blood.

And in a far corner, a bassinet and baby supplies. Toys meant to stimulate a newborn. Bottles, Diapers, everything a new child would need.

"What the hell..."

Another whimper reached them, somehow weak now, fragile, fading.

Something at the door of death.

Spurred by the chill tracing down their spines, Mulder and Skinner burst into the room at the far end of the room and skidded to a halt.

Krycek had rigged a swing over the over-sized tub designed to hold him in place slightly over the water. His huge belly was distended, contracting as his body struggled to expel...what...a child.. Jesus, god, a child, partially birthed.

Krycek never glanced at them as he struggled to support the child's head and manage the strength for one more push.

His tears fell freely as, past exhaustion, he slumped back into the sling. "I'm sorry, baby. So very sorry," he croaked, not aware of anything but the life between his thighs. "I can't do it, little one. I can't." His eyes fluttered shut.

Acting on instinct, Skinner sprang across the room and caught the child in gentle hands. "Mulder, help me."

Mulder responded to the commands like a man in a drugged haze.

"We need to.." Skinner paused as Krycek's eyes pried open. "You with us, Krycek?"

Krycek's head rolled listlessly. "Save ..baby....Please...?"

"That's the plan, Krycek. I need you to push."

Krycek's head rolled again. "Knife....on the sink. Cut..cut him out."

"Not happening, Krycek," Skinner growled, "You hear me, boy? You are going to push. One more time. Do you hear me? You are going to..."

"Don't let him die," Krycek whispered. "Only..only good thing in my life."

"Mulder, hold him up."

Mulder helped Krycek curl up and placed his hand on the protruding belly. "Krycek. Focus on my voice, boy."

Krycek's head moved listlessly a moment longer, than his eyes locked on Skinner's. Skinner waited a moment, watching and finally saw what he was looking for.

"Push. Push hard...That's it... he's coming, Alex. Just a little bit ...Yes," he gently eased the new life free. Grinning broadly, he held the baby for Krycek to see. "A fine healthy boy, Alex."

Krycek smiled sleepily, nodding.

"Mulder hand me those clean towels, he's bleeding heavily. We need to pack him, get him to a proper hospital. This boy has a baby to raise."


II.

He clung to the last wisps of sleep, subconsciously not wantng to face the brual light of day. He'd faced too many next days after the birthings to expect anything different, but as it does, sleep could only hold reality at bay for so long and no long. So was it even now, as wakefulness greedily swept in the dash his heart against the ravages of what would be.

Opening his eyes to the garish glaring florescent lights, he winced away. He lifted an arm over his eyes shading them and his hopeful gaze moved around the room, mentally taking stock.

The walls, painted in faux leather tans, told him he was not in one of the consortium hell holes. So where?

And where was his child?

He allowed himself a frustrated and bitter short snort of a laugh. Gone. The baby was gone. Just like all the others he'd been forced to bear.

For a brief moment, he let himself wonder if any of the children he'd born were still alive. Not that he'd ever know. They had been taken from him directly from the womb....Did he have a womb? Had they fucked with his genetics to the point that he was a biologically manufactured woman-man.

Freaked out with the direction of his thoughts he ran his hand over his groin. Cock. Balls. He sighed. No vagina.

A weak giggle floated around him. He bite down hard on his lower lip, drawing blood, stifling the hysteria threatening to take him over.

God, where was his baby? "I'm so sorry, little one," he spoke to the lost child. "I wanted to keep you safe. I wanted to." A sob break over him. "I would have killed you if..." he rolled onto his side and curled into a fetal position. "God, let me die. let me die before they force me to have another..."

The door pushed open. A nurse crossed to him, smiling brightly. "Good morning, Mr Krycek. How are we feeling today?" She frowned over his tears. "Feeling blue, are we? Well, its to be expected. You went through somethng mighty amazing, you know?" She offered another mega-wat smile. "I mean its not every day you hear of a man giving birth, is it?"

Krycek stared at her, slack-jawed. "Are you for real?" he asked, suddenly rallying.

"well, I believe so." She plucked up his wrist, chattering away about everything and nothing as she continued through her routine, checking his blood pressure. Rolling him over on his back to knead his stomach.

Stunned by the no-nonsense flighty confusion that was this perky nurse of matronly age, Krycek put up no resistance.

"So, are you ready to have a little visitor?" she asked at length.

"Visitor?"

"Hmmmm." She nodded. "I assume you will want to at least try to nurse."

"N...Nurse?" Tears flooded his eyes and raced down his cheeks. "The.. baby?" He clutched her hand, eyes pleading. "I...I can see..it?"

"Well, you are his daddy, aren't you?" She frowned, "Or his mommy?" she waved a flustered hand. "My goodness, young man, you really have made a confusion for old nanny Emmy to try to sort out, haven't you?"

Krycek offered her a watery smile. "S...so...sorry..."

Emmy patted his hand gently. "Now never you mind, pet. Nanny is going to take real good care of mommy and son. You just lie back and let me go fetch the boy." She brushed back the hair that had fallen over Krycek's eyes. "You, young man, should give some thought to what your going to call your little fella."

And than she was gone, leaving Krycek to twist in the confusion of what had just happened.

end

Feedback, anyone? Requests?...is that an echo I hear....?

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