Title: Injustice
Author: Skulz
Author's Page: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/314358/
Written: 01/04/2005
Words: 1789
Rating: PG (deals with depression and poverty)
Category: X-Files
Genre: Angst

Summary: CGB Spender (AKA the Cigarette Smoking Man) finds a baby in a basket upon his doorstep. A note is attached to the basket reading “Alex Krycek”.

Authors Notes: This story takes place after CGB Spender impregnates Cassandra and leaves her and her unborn son (Jeffrey) to fend for themselves. However, there is no mention of either Cassandra or Jeffrey in this fanfic. (I'm adding this in just incase anyone gets confused). I'm guessing this would be the early sixties. Oh and another thing, this is a one shot... don't expect any more chapters, prequels, or sequels.

Feedback: Flame me and die! MWAHAHAHA! ...okay, never mind.

Dedication: For Monica on her fifty-second birthday (5, January, 2005)

Marta and Kristof Krycek were having another argument over the usual conflict.

"God damn it, Marta!" exclaimed the panic-ridden husband, "Why can't you give that damn thing up?!"

Marta held her baby son tightly, "I just... I can't! He's our son, Kristof! You may not want him, but I love him!"

"No. We are giving him away tomorrow. We can't afford children! We can't even afford a home!"

The depressed mother ran to the bedroom in tears, bringing the baby along with her. She lay upon the bed with her son in her arms, cuddling him probably for the last time. Between sobs, she was able to sing him a final lullaby and watched as he slept.

That night as the Kryceks lay in bed, Marta could not find sleep. She couldn't bear the thought of giving up her child... So she decided to take little Alex and find him a better home. Somewhere where he wouldn't have to live with his awful father or live in poverty.

The mother got up off the bed so silently; making sure Kristof would not wake. She took Alex from his small cradle, wrapped him up in a blanket and put him in a wicker basket. "Don't worry darling, you're going to a better place," Marta whispered as she ran up the road.

Hours passed on that cold December night before the mother reached the rich side of town. She looked at all the homes and tried to decide which one held the best future for her son. She finally decided on a rather large white house with Christmas lights lining the windows and roof. The blinds were closed, but she could see a silhouette of a man and his typewriter... He seemed lonely. Marta saw the name on the mailbox: "Spender". She took out a pen and paper and wrote "Mr. Spender, I leave you my son, Alex Krycek. Please take better care of him than I ever could." She left the note in the wicker basket next to Alex and gave the baby a last kiss. "I love you Alex, and I'm so, so sorry." Marta rang the doorbell and ran off down the road, knowing her son would never know his true identity.

The middle aged man broke away from the typewriter and went to the door. He opened it, looking left and right, not seeing the child below. Then, he finally noticed the baby Krycek. He took the child in his arms and red the paper with his name on it. Mr. Spender looked around once again, hoping to see the mother or father of baby Alex. No such luck. "My God," he muttered, taking a good look at the child in his arms. He shut the door and brought the baby into the kitchen with him. He couldn't understand why anyone would give up a child like this. "Must be communists," he thought. "Oh well, baby. It doesn't matter who your parents are. I'll protect you."

When Alex was five years old and taken to school for the first time, his father knew he would be picked on. CGB could see his son's future in school... He believed the boy would make a wonderful addition to the Syndicate one day. As he let go of Alex's hand, he gave the child a silent "good luck" and went on his way.

Little Krycek sat in the circle with the other boys and girls, waiting for instruction. He didn't talk with the other children. He'd never had any contact with other people his age... just those friends of his father whom he'd grown accustom to.

Another young boy waddled over to Alex and introduced himself as Jeffrey. Alex was skeptical about this boy and stared at him in cruel silence. "Want to be my friend?" Jeffrey asked. Again, Alex was shocked. He didn't know the concept of friends, for he'd never had any.

"Do you know how to talk?" Jeffrey asked.

"Of course I know how to talk, stupid!" Alex exclaimed, "I'm just contemplating what you said."

"What's a comtepating?" Jeffrey queried.

"Idiot," Alex murmured.

"I don't want to be your friend anymore," Jeffrey said.

It was quite obvious to little Krycek what this 'friend' thing meant now. It meant trust... Like him and his father.

Then another boy approached Alex. He wore a strange tee-shirt with a little alien head on it. "Hi... My name's Mulder!"

"That's a weird name," Alex replied.

"Well my real name's Fox, but I don't like that name," Mulder said shyly, "What's your name?"

"Alex," he told the other boy.

"What's your last name?" Mulder inquired.

"Krycek. Alex Krycek."

"That's a funny name," Mulder laughed.

"Shut up!" Alex shouted. He stood up and kicked Mulder in the chest and then walked away.

That was Alex's first offence against another human being. He then understood that punishment was a small price to pay for his crimes. The 'thinking chair' (a chair in the corner of the room facing the wall) wasn't the greatest threat in Alex's life. CGB was proud of his rebel son.

It was many years before Mr. Spender decided to tell Alex he was adopted. However, on the eve of little Krycek's tenth birthday, he would tell the truth in which Alex suspected.

CGB sat Alex down at the kitchen table and gave him a bowl of home made macaroni and cheese. "Now, son... there's something you and I have to talk about. I've been meaning to tell you this for a long time now, but I've never found the right words..."

"What is it, Dad?" Alex inquired.

"Alex... You're not my biological son."

"What?" the boy asked, not quite understanding.

"You were adopted," Mr. Spender replied, looking away, trying not to let his true emotion show.

The boy just sat there in shock. "I thought we trusted each other," he sobbed, "I thought you were my friend!" Alex broke down into tears and ran away.

"Wait! I just wanted to protect you, Alex!" CGB called. His son wasn't listening though. He turned away and took out a cigarette. It had been years since his last one, but he had reason to smoke now. His son didn't trust him.

Eight years later, after Alex's graduation from high school, he came home alone. Still he had no friends. Jeffrey and 'Mulder' had become enemies rather than allies. He had no reason to respect them as human beings.

"So, Alex, how was the ceremony?" CGB asked.

"What do you care?" he asked, "You didn't even show up."

"I had work to do, son."

"Don't call me that! Don't ever call me your son! You're a terrible father!"

"I wanted to be there!" pleaded Mr. Spender.

"Whatever!" Krycek called, slamming his door.

CGB went into the washroom and looked at himself in the mirror. "What the hell happened?" he asked himself. "Why couldn't I just be truthful? Why can't I tell him?!" He shook his head, "I have to tell him... I have to tell him now." The now much older man splashed his face with water, cooling down his body temperature and emotions. It was time.

He opened the door just to see Alex step out the door, "Hey! Wait!" CGB called.

"Yeah? What is it, old man?"

"Alex... I need to tell you something."

"Can't it wait? I'm going down to work... Mr. Scully said I can't be late again or he'll fire me."

"Um... Okay. Go on. I don't want you to lose your job. Just remember, I need to talk to you when you come home."

"Sure, fine, whatever," Alex replied, slamming the door of the light blue Rover, driving off in a storm of rage.

CGB went back in the house to wait for Alex's return. He ended up staying up all night thinking about how to introduce him to the Syndicate... finally. Once it hit ten thirty, he began to worry about the boy... He didn't want to phone the shipyard, for he knew how strict Mr. Scully was with his business, so he turned on the news.

That was where he first heard it: "And tonight a young man was coming home in this light blue 1973 Rover when his car collided with a pickup truck. The driver has been confirmed dead."

CGB's heart was pumping loudly. He wanted to be optimistic, but he knew that was his car. Alex Krycek was dead. CGB never alerted the authorities though, for it would give up his position... He could not get assassinated. Not now.

It was almost ten years later when Mr. Spender got a knock on his door. He suspected it was the Jehovah Witnesses trying to convert him to their conspiracy. "Sorry, I've already got a religion!" he called.

"I'm not a religious fanatic!" a man called.

"Oh really?" Spender asked.

"Uh, no."

"Then what do you want?!"

"To know your name, sir."

"It's on the mail box. Spender."

"I know that. Are your initials CGB?"

"How... How did you know that?" he asked, opening the door.

"I'm your son," Alex replied with a smile.

Tears ran down his cheeks and he hugged the young man. "Welcome home, Alex. And welcome to the Syndicate." CGB led Alex into the living room where all the nameless men sat in a circle concocting dark conspiracies.

All the men looked up at the young Krycek as if to say hello, though they said nothing.

"Sit down, Alex. I've got a job for you." CGB Spender took out a folder labeled "X-Files".


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