Angel

by Panzareta

Rated: E

Pairing: None

Spoilers: Minor ones for S7 and Requiem

Pairing: X-Files/Touched By An Angel/Earth Angels

Warning: Alex remembers his true mission in life.

Author's notes: Thank You to Sue, for excellent beta, comma wrangling and much patience in waiting for this to be finished.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Penal colony, Forj Sidi Toui, Tunisia

Alex shivered in the cold dank cell, staring into the darkness. He still wasn't sure how Spender had tracked him down; the Swiss diplomatic passport he carried should have given him immunity from any sort of harassment, but instead, he was trapped in this damned Tunisian prison. There had been several 'interviews', as government officials euphemistically referred to them, and he had been kept in relative isolation from the other prisoners. He was thankful for that much, since he didn't have to worry about fighting his way through the general population.

The light cotton shirt he was wearing stuck to the raw skin on his back, and kept pulling the scabs loose, making them bleed again. Alex coughed slightly and wondered if he was coming down with pneumonia. He tried to see if he had coughed up any blood, but the dirty rag he'd been using as a handkerchief gave no indication. He hoped that whatever the hell he had, it wasn't turning into TB. Some of the newer, mutated strains were far deadlier than the old ones. At any rate, it wouldn't be long before they decided to execute him, so it probably didn't matter. Alex prayed to a God he had nearly forgotten, that it would be a fast, clean death.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

"Where are we goin', Tess?"

"This is a special case, Miss Wings. It's a little bit of search and rescue, and a whole lot of death."

Monica looked at Tess quizzically, then turned to Andrew. "Andrew, why are you here? Will you be taking anyone home?"

"I'm not sure, Monica. I'm still waiting for *my* orders."

"Who are we going to see, Tess?"

"An angel."

"An angel?" Andrew looked curiously at Tess, who looked calmly back at him.

"Yes, a very special angel."

"Ohhh... Who is she?"

"The angel in question is a man. *He* is in prison."

"In prison? What happened?"

"That's a long story, Miss Wings. A long, *sad* story."

As they walked along the dusty desert road, Tess began to explain their mission. Monica and Andrew exchanged concerned glances. This was going to be one of the most difficult, dangerous missions they had ever undertaken.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Alex woke up, startled. He thought he could smell freesias. The delicate scent was very distinct, but faint.

//you're losing it alex.//

There was an odor in the old prison, and it sure as hell wasn't freesias. He sat up, pulling the thin blanket tightly around his shoulders. He began coughing again, harder this time, hearing a faint wheezing sound as he tried to catch his breath. Great. It probably was pneumonia. And he was dirty. Alex hated being dirty. The prison reminded him of Tunguska, and that thought always made his arm ache worse, which, in turn, made him think of the ship. And very, very late at night, the dark, dank cell reminded him of the silo. But back in the silo, he had still had both arms. Now, these damn bastards had even taken his prosthetic. He hadn't felt so vulnerable and helpless for a long time.

Alex wondered briefly if it was much longer until dawn. Then maybe he would get something to eat. They hadn't fed him for a couple of days, and he was getting lightheaded from hunger. He tried not to think about food or drink, and especially not about what might happen when he was interrogated again. He supposed he could stand another beating or three. He had to. He was needed... needed to... He tiredly closed his eyes and began to doze off.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

"Is that him, Tess? Is this the angel we're supposed to help?"

Monica couldn't help being surprised at the sleeping man who lay in front of her. She supposed that if he were awake that he would be fairly tall and good-looking, wondering briefly at the missing arm. He was scruffy, unkempt and worst of all, he *smelled*. As hard as she tried, she couldn't keep from wrinkling her nose at his rank odor.

"Yes." The elder angel's voice held a faint tinge of disapproval. "Look again, Miss Wings. You can only see what he *really* looks like when he's asleep. When he's awake, you'll merely notice his human form."

Monica looked again gasping in amazement. For once, she could truly understand human fascination with physical shape and form. Instead of the rumpled, smelly young man, she saw a heartbreakingly beautiful angel. Not one of the usual missionary angels, but one of the rare warriors.

"Tess! He looks like... like... but it can't be *him*, it couldn't be..."

"No, honey. *That One* is where he wants to be, busy with his plans."

"But, Tess. He..."

"I know. If it were possible to put our angelic relationships into human terms, then you could say that they were twins. But *this one* chose to obey, not rebel."

There was a very faint rustling of wings as the man shifted, and they stared in bemusedly as his human form resurfaced, becoming clearer and more defined.

"You see? Only a few of us can see him for what he really is."

"Humans are so blind, Tess. If only they could see him..."

"Very few humans can see us for what we really are, Angel Girl. Usually, it's only the little children, or those who are truly religious. But he was hiding his true self even from us--and that's nearly impossible to accomplish."

"What are we supposed to do now?"

"Now, Monica, you are going to serve him breakfast."

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

"Good morning, Alexander."

Alex started awake at the sound of a woman's voice, and studied the young woman in front of him with growing suspicion.

"My name's Monica. I've brought your breakfast."

"Yeah, right." He nearly laughed at her, but instead he began coughing again, harder this time. Exhausted from the bout, he slumped against the wall and looked at her curiously. "What are you in here for?"

"I'm here to help you, Alexander."

"Help me? I'm sure." He couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice. "Well, at least I got a pretty executioner."

Monica stared at him in dismay. "Executioner? Me? What gave you that idea?"

"That's poisoned, isn't it?" He indicated the tray of bread and water. "I was hoping for champagne and caviar for my last meal, although a side order of truffles would be nice."

"Alexander, this food isn't poisoned."

"I'm not stupid, girl. Of course, it's poisoned." Alex sighed tiredly, and slowly reached for the tray. "Don't worry, I'll eat it. I wouldn't get you in trouble."

Monica stood quietly, unable to understand how he could fail to recognize the food she brought.

i know that a human would fail to detect manna and nectar, but an angel!

Alex had little appetite, but he knew he had to try and eat to keep his strength up. Even if it was poisoned, his instinct for survival was still strong, and he ignored his innate sense of caution. He dipped the bread into the water, softening it slightly. His jaw was still sore, and he was thankful the guard hadn't broken it when he'd hit him. Idly he noticed that the bread was fresh, still faintly warm, and that the water was also clean and cool.

that's funny. It's a lot nicer than what i was getting. nicer than even what the guards get probably.

He noticed that the young woman remained in the cell, staring at him. He frowned at her, wrinkling his forehead in thought.

"What's your name again?"

"I'm Monica, Alexander."

"Look, call me Alex, ok? I still don't understand why you're here." He studied her thoughtfully. "I can tell you're not a prisoner, but you don't look like hired help, either. I doubt if you're from the Red Cross or anything, so..." Alex was seized by yet another sudden round of coughing that left him gasping for breath. He leaned forward, trying to fight the sudden dizziness that he felt. When he finally looked up, he saw that she was kneeling beside him, holding the water. He drank thirstily and leaned back against the wall.

"How can I help you, Alex?"

"A suite at the Hilton would be nice."

"I wish I could do that for you, Alex, but I can't. Maybe there's something else I could do."

Alex smiled briefly at that, realizing that the girl was unaware of her double entendre, and marveling at her naivet.

and just how has she remained so innocent here, alex? how has she been able to fight off all these slimy bastards and still have that look of purity? most of the women would look like old boots by now, but she looks like... a nun.

He noticed her worried gaze and tried to summon one of his charming smiles.

"Don't worry about it, Monica. I..." Alex raised his head, hearing a very faint clanging in the distance. "Look, you better go now. Thanks for the bread. And the water."

"But, Alex..."

"Don't be stupid, honey. Get out. Now."

Monica saw Tess beckoning to her, so she reluctantly left with the tray.

"Tess, what's happening?" Monica watched in growing concern as several very large guards entered the cell.

"Be still, honey. You're here to witness as well as help."

The two angels stood still, watching in horror as a guard grabbed Alex and slammed him up against the cold wall. They could hear the sharp crack of bone against stone, and a cry of pain that was suddenly silenced.

Monica stared at the senior angel in despair. "They didn't kill him, did they?"

"No, baby, they didn't. In fact, they're only just getting started."

They listened as the one sided conversation grew louder, punctuated by sounds of physical violence. Monica clapped her hands over her ears, trying to cope with the waves of pain that she heard--and felt.

"How can they do such things to him, Tess? How?"

"They can because they don't care. But others do. Look around you, Monica."

Monica opened her eyes, staring in amazement at the vast array of angels crowding the dank hallway.

One of them, another warrior named Xandre, stepped forward, his dark liquid eyes filled with compassion. "We are powerless to interfere, Monica. There is a greater Plan to be served by this. It is not for us to question."

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Less than an hour later, the guards left Alex's cell. Monica looked worriedly at the locked door, then at Tess.

"It's awfully quiet in there, Tess."

"Then we'd better go inside, Miss Wings, and find out what's happened."

They entered the cell, horrified to see Alex lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Monica knelt beside him, finding a faint pulse.

"He's still alive, Tess. What should I do?"

"He needs a hospital." Andrew walked into the cell, staring at Alex's unconscious form. "There are five broken ribs, a ruptured spleen, severe kidney bruising, a punctured lung that is ready to collapse in a few minutes, and a serious skull fracture. The cuts and bruises are minor, but he's also blind in his right eye." Andrew looked worriedly at his companions. "He could die, you know."

"What are we to do?"

"We pray, Miss Wings. We pray."

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Alex shivered in the cold cell. He knew he was critically hurt and that this time he might die. He raised a limp hand to his forehead, grimacing at the sticky feeling of blood. He tried to open his eyes, only to discover that his right eye wouldn't work--it was as if there was a film over it. Damn. The cracked ribs were now broken, and his head ached from what was either a migraine or a skull fracture. Somehow, Alex doubted that it was a migraine. He tried not to cry out because that would only attract further attention, although he couldn't quite suppress a slight whimper. He turned clumsily, wondering who was in the cell with him. There was someone there, he just knew it.

doesn't matter... probably only watching so they can continue the questioning...

"Alex? Can you hear me, Alex?"

He couldn't believe that he was hearing a woman's voice. Her voice.

"Monica?"

"Yes, Alex. I'm right here."

Monica watched Alex closely, astonished that he was still alive. He had closed his eyes, apparently asleep. She gently laid her hand on his forehead, noting how his eyes opened slightly, staring into space.

"Can I get you anything, Alex?"

His good eye flickered briefly at her before he closed them again. "... be fine. ... only want... to rest... awhile..."

Monica slowly began washing his face, gently clearing the dried blood away. He turned his head toward her, nuzzling her hand slightly. Monica stiffened at the disturbing intimacy of his gesture, then forced herself to relax and continue. Alex needed her help, not judgment.

"Does that feel better, Alex?"

"Yeah, ... does." Alex was silent then, and Monica quietly continued her ministrations. She wondered what would happen now, for her healing skills were minimal even by human standards. Monica looked up as the door opened, expecting to see Tess or Andrew. She instinctively bowed her head as yet another angel entered. Not merely any angel, but one of the Archangels himself. Raphael.

"Sir."

"I suppose that I do rate a sir from you, Monica, but there is no need for such formality, especially here."

Monica raised her eyes to that unearthly, radiant countenance, thankful that she was able to see him clearly.

poor humans, they try so hard, but they can only sense what some of us look like. especially him.

Alex moaned slightly, and Raphael turned his gaze back to his injured associate.

"Alexander, can you hear me?"

There was no response from Alex, so he turned his attention back to Monica. "He can hear us, but he isn't able to talk." Raphael looked steadily at Monica. "Are you ready to assist me, little one?"

She nodded briefly, unable to speak.

"Then let us begin."

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Alex felt strange. Very strange. He thought perhaps he really was dying, but there was no pain, no fear. Funny, he'd been sure he'd go straight to Hell. But this... he felt as though he was filled with light, light that *cleansed* and somehow *healed* at the same time. The light *hurt* too, but it was a good hurt, one that made him remember... **home**. He opened his eyes only to see brightness.

if mulder was here, he'd think it was aliens... but it's not... it's... different... it's... it's...

He stared at the light, trying desperately to discern shapes that were hauntingly familiar. Alex opened his mouth to speak, but found that there was no need for human speech.

i know you. *cousin*.

yes, little one. rest now.

but... i want to go with you...

soon. but not now. your mission is not yet finished.

my mission?

yes. remember, little brother. time grows short.

Alex moaned slightly as the brightness left, leaving him alone once more. This time when he closed his eyes, he slept peacefully for the first time in years.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Monica waited patiently outside the cell while Alex slept. Tess had warned her that Alex was an extremely stubborn angel, and his current assignment had been complicated by human capriciousness.

"I've known Alexander for years, Monica, and a more stubborn angel you could never hope to meet. But he has needed that stubbornness in order to complete his missions. The Father trusts him with the most important assignments that need very skillful handling. That trust has always been fulfilled."

"Why are you telling me this, Tess?"

"The hard part of your job is only just beginning, Angel-girl. Now, you have to help him to *remember* his mission. You have been given the voice of truth, and that is exactly what he needs to hear. He has heard nothing but lies and deception for so long..." Tess sighed sadly. "Go to him now, Monica. Time grows short."

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Monica slipped quietly into the cell, waiting for Alex to wake from his healing trance. She had no idea what she would say to him. His mission was a secret even from Tess, who usually knew far more than she cared to admit. Alex began to stir and she hurriedly collected her thoughts.

"Monica? Why are you still here?" Alex struggled into a sitting position and looked at her suspiciously. "Are you working for him?"

"Him? Who is *him*?"

"You know, *Spender*. Are you working for him?" Alex spoke bitterly, and Monica wondered just who this man Spender was. Someone who was interfering with Alex's mission no doubt.

"No, Alexander, I'm not."

"Who are you working for, then? You must be working for someone. Tell me who it is."

"I'm not working for anyone, Alexander."

"Liar." Alex glared viciously at her, and Monica immediately felt apprehensive. Sudden mood swings always frightened her, and if Alex should become aggressive... he *was* an angel, after all.

"Alexander, listen to me. I'm telling you the truth."

"The truth, the truth, the truth. You sound like just Mulder, only he won't listen to anyone except maybe her." Alex lowered his voice to a whisper. "He won't even listen to me."

"Alexander, you're hearing my words, but you're not listening to me. I am an angel..."

"An angel. Wow! And here I always thought I'd be visited by aliens, at the very least. I guess I must be moving up in the world."

"Alexander, I am an angel sent by God to remind you of your mission."

"I've never forgotten my mission." Alex laughed bitterly. "Never."

"But you have, Alexander. You've even forgotten who you are."

"I know exactly who I am."

"Then tell me this, Alexander. What are you?"

Alex managed to summon a faint smile despite his anger.

and here i thought that mulder played these stupid games.

"What am I? Let's see, I think I'm--animal."

"Alexander! This is not a game. It's a matter of life and death." Monica was exasperated with his apparent obtuseness. She was keenly aware that time was not on their side, and that the mission was highly critical.

"I *knew* it. I'm going to die here before... before..." Alex paused, trying to remember the thread of his argument. He had to... to... Mulder needed... his help... there was something... *something*... more... A new voice broke into his thoughts, startling him.

"That hasn't been decided yet, Alexander."

Alex jumped, and turned to stare at the tall blond man. "Who are you? Where did you come from?" Alex knew he should have heard the man enter but he hadn't, and that fact worried him. If he was losing this much of his edge... His thoughts were interrupted as the man spoke quietly.

"Don't you remember me, Alexander? I'm Andrew."

"Andrew." Alex shook his head briefly. "Nope. Sorry, man. I've never seen you before."

"Try to remember, Alexander. We were very close at one time."

"Call me Alex, ok?" Alex peered at Andrew closely before slumping against the wall. "No, I'm sorry. I usually remember my lovers, either female or... male."

Alex gave a low, unexpected chuckle at the other man's expression of horror. Andrew stole a quick look at Monica, who was clearly stunned by Alex's outlook. Despite her attempts at sophistication, she still remained unexpectedly innocent at times.

"Alex, we were never... lovers."

Andrew was a bit disconcerted himself by Alex's behavior. He couldn't remember meeting anyone who had gone into such deep cover before, or even imagined that such a thing could be possible. Alexander's mission must be extremely important and sensitive for him to have forgotten so much.

"Well, you look just a little too nice to have worked for anyone I ever knew. I've got a knack for faces. Yours isn't familiar. Sorry."

Alex shrugged and turned his attention back to Monica. "So, what now Angel? Or do I still call you Monica? How about you tell me another story? Why don't you...?"

Alex began to cough again, but it was less harsh this time, and he was able to breathe easier. He looked at his companions with a renewed interest that indicated something more than mere friendship. Monica and Andrew exchanged worried glances as Tess entered the room. She frowned at Alex.

"What's going on in here? What are you up to now, Alex?"

Alex stared curiously at Tess, an odd expression crossing his face. "Should I know you?"

"Alex, you are being a bad boy. Now you straighten up and listen to Monica here. We don't have time for your foolishness."

Tess stared hard at Alex, trying to decide how best to handle the situation. In all her years, and despite knowing Alex as she did, she had never expected this scenario.

Alex shook his head, feeling normal again. He wondered briefly what had happened; suddenly he *knew* who they were, and why they were here. Alex raised his eyes to his companions, seeing them clearly for the first time.

"She doesn't have anything new to tell me, Monica. What could she possibly tell that I don't already know?"

"Things are going to get very bad for you, Alexander. In fact, you might die, and if you die while you are in mortal form..."

"I know what waits for me." Alex turned his brilliant emerald gaze on them, but it seemed as if he were looking beyond them at something only he could see.

"You know, then Alex, what the final cost will be? You are sure that you understand?"

"Of course, I do."

The other angels stared bemusedly at Alex, trying desperately to understand his position. It was an extremely radical stance to take, even for a warrior such as Alex. Finally, Monica broke the uneasy silence that lay between them. They were to help Alexander in any way that he might ask, but they had certain limits if he did not make any requests.

"Are they really worth it, Alexander? Is your mission so important then, that you would risk death in human form...?"

Alex's calm, clear emerald gaze stared back at them. "I know what waits for me better than you could ever imagine. This is *my* destiny, little one, and you cannot begin to know all that it entails."

Reluctantly, Monica and the others left Alex and began walking down the hall. Each was lost in their own thoughts when Tess looked around, frowning slightly. Monica and Andrew stopped and looked around as well, feeling rather puzzled.

"What is it Tess? What's wrong?"

Tess stared at a patch of air that shimmered in front of them, nodding slightly. "There. Someone's here." Tess spoke sternly, in her most commanding voice. "Show yourself to us."

The shimmer resolved itself into human form and the others gasped in dismay at the new arrival.

"You. What are you doing here?"

"So polite of you to ask, Tess." A tall, dark-haired angel with an obvious resemblance to Alex walked toward the little group, exuding good cheer tinged with malice.

"Maximillian." Tess spoke in a flat, hard voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see Alex."

"You're here to cause trouble, you mean." Tess glared bitterly at Max, but Max looked unexpectedly somber at her words.

"Alex is my twin--I have as much right as any of you to be here, and you know it. Furthermore, you cannot forbid my entry. You don't have that sort of authority."

Tess struggled to keep her composure. Max was always scheming against them and their work, but she knew that the only one who could force Max to leave would be Michael himself.

"Very well, do as you wish. But remember that I'll be keeping my eyes on you." A soft chuckle was the only reply she received as Max sinuously moved past her into Alex's cell.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Washington, D.C.

Marita woke from an uneasy sleep. Spender had caused Alex to disappear, she was certain of it, just as she was certain that Alex was in serious trouble. She loved Alex, even though she knew that he wasn't really in love with her. After all, he was everything she should want in a man. Alex was different, someone to... respect. Respect was something that she seldom felt for any of the Consortium members; most of them had her contempt.

Spender had forced them to be co-workers, but he couldn't have predicted the effect that Alex would have on her. Alex had subtly compelled Marita to change her outlook from the narrow view Spender demanded. With Alex, Marita remembered the person she had once dreamed of being, and was trying to become her again.

Shaking her head to banish her uneasy dreams, Marita began her morning routine. After a quick shower, she sat in front of her vanity, carefully applying her make-up. Spender had finally sent for her, and she intended to look her best. The Smoker set great store by appearances, and she knew that he would expect her to be perfectly groomed. She carefully did her hair before dressing in a designer suit and stood at the mirror, trying to decide which accessories were needed. Cautiously, she reached for a thin silk handkerchief that had an angel embroidered in one corner. Alex had given it to her after their first so-called date, laughing as he told her it was a token of his true nature. Marita smiled wistfully.

je souhaite, alex. je souhaite...

Marita took a Consortium owned cab to Spender's apartment. She had never fully recovered from her ordeal as a test subject at Ft. Marlene and drove as little as possible now. Once again, she found herself wishing for Alex.

True, he had left her at Ft. Marlene, and she had felt despair then, believing that he hated her. When he had returned to guide her out of there, she had been elated, her relief so liberating that she still couldn't quite believe it. She knew she had betrayed him when she'd kidnapped D'mitri, and that she didn't deserve the mercy he'd shown.

Forgiveness was something Marita had seldom experienced in her life working for Spender, and Alex's unexpected clemency had further cemented her loyalty to him.

"Sir? You sent for me?"

"Ah, Marita. You are as lovely as ever, my dear." Spender turned in his wheelchair to look at her, and she fought to keep her feelings under control. She still feared him and probably always would, even though it was clear that he was dying.

"What do you want me to do, Sir?"

"I need you to go to Tunisia - at once. All of the necessary paperwork is there." Spender gestured to a small bundle of papers that had been tossed onto the coffee table. "It appears that we still need the services of Alex Krycek after all."

"We do?" Marita was unable to keep a note of surprise from her voice. She had privately feared that Alex was already dead, fish food in some distant, forgotten swamp. "I thought that Alex was no longer necessary to the Project."

Spender looked oddly pensive. "So I thought. But I was wrong, Marita. It appears that our Alex is essential to us at this critical stage."

Marita studied Spender carefully. He seemed sincere, but she no longer trusted him - or any of his hirelings. Her first loyalty was to Alex and always would be. Of course, *he* didn't know that.

Spender ignored Marita's curiosity and continued to think about the strange dreams he had been plagued by recently -- at least, he believed they were dreams. After decades of collaborating with the aliens, he really didn't want to consider the alternatives.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Alex had appeared to him, his green eyes mocking. "You always were a fool, Spender."

"What do you mean? I'd say that you were the fool, Alex."

Alex laughed, an oddly happy laugh. "You don't get it, do you?" There was a slight pause before Alex spoke again. "You never did know everything, old man, and now, my secrets will die with me."

"You have no secrets from me, Alex. You never did. You forget--I made you." Spender smiled, secure in the knowledge that he knew all of Alex's most private thoughts.

Alex smirked back at him. Spender hated that little smirk; it had cost Alex many beatings, although the smirk had never fully been erased.

"Perhaps you do know everything after all, Spender."

"Of course I do."

Alex looked down slightly as if chagrined. "I guess I should have known that you knew who got me out of the silo then, huh?"

"But I do, Alex. It was that so-called militia group."

Alex's head snapped up, and the emerald gaze sparkled with malice. "You believed that? You must be getting senile as well, old man. Do you really think that those bums could have rescued me?" Alex chuckled once more, setting Spender's nerves on edge. "Wouldn't you like to know the truth? To know who the traitor was who let me out *and* helped me out of the country?"

"You're bluffing. There was no traitor. It was the militia group that rescued you." Spender felt he was on the verge of apoplexy, staring at the taunting apparition.

"Am I?" Alex gave Spender one last enigmatic smile as he faded away. "I guess you'll never know now, will you? See you in hell, old man."

"Come back here, Alex. Come back here," Spender railed at the disappearing apparition, but his words had no effect, and he woke up suddenly in his empty bedroom.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Penal colony, Forj Sidi Toui, Tunisia

The warden studied the list of prisoners. There was a regular overcrowding problem, which was easily solved by executing the more worthless ones and the infidels.

"Which of these prisoners have no money left or any outside funds?"

"These men, Excellency." The secretary indicated several names marked with an "x". The warden nodded slowly, frowning slightly as he noticed one name.

"This man--this Alex Krycek? We were paid to detain him."

"There have been no funds for some time; he exists only on Your Excellency's generosity."

"Still, I have no real reason to execute him."

"As you wish, Excellency."

"Does he have anything of value left?"

"No. Excellency. The plastic arm is worthless." The secretary paused briefly. "I suppose he might be a good whore, but he is old and not very pretty."

The warden sighed tiredly. "Very well then. Put him in the death cell with the others and cut their rations. The executions will take place in two weeks."

"Your Excellency is most wise and just." The secretary quickly left the room, and the warden returned to his paperwork.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Alex woke up to a bare, empty cell. He felt better than he had for a long time and he wondered briefly if he had imagined his visitors. There was a sudden noise in the hall, and the door opened. Two burly guards entered the cell, and Alex prepared himself for another beating.

"What do you want? More questions?"

"You go with us, prisoner."

"Why? Where are you taking me?"

The guard looked blankly at Alex and drew a stun gun. "No more talk. You go now."

Alex stood up slowly and extended his right arm. Both guards looked askance this, belatedly realizing that their prisoner had only one arm. A manacle was snapped around his right wrist and Alex found himself being pulled down the dark hallway. After several false starts, the guards paused at another post, where there was a long, angry discussion over *something*. The air shimmered brightly, but it went unnoticed. He wasn't certain about the finer points of the conversation, but he definitely heard the word "execute" mentioned. If anything, Alex Krycek was well-versed in the language of death.

Max had decided it was time for him to become involved. He had little regard for the niceties--such things only interfered with his overall plans. Alex had endured enough; the "good" angels were honor-bound not to participate in any way that could be considered "interference," but Max had no compunction about such things--especially when it came to Alex. Max studied the men in the nearby cells carefully. It was already night, with many of them already asleep. One more prisoner would scarcely be noticed. Sighing, Max slowly began his transformation, taking careful note of the other men's ethnicity. After all, it wouldn't do for him to draw attention to himself at this stage--even the dumbest human would be suspicious if Alex's *double* showed up.

Panicking, Alex began to struggle, but the guard's stun-gun lived up to its name, and he felt himself being dragged along yet another hallway. A new guard opened a door, and Alex was shoved into a large, open cell that was filled with sleeping prisoners. He fell to the floor awkwardly, the breath knocked out of him. One of the men, a tall light-complected Arab, was awake and watched the proceeding with interest. He rose quietly, stepping close to Alex and knelt down.

"Hello, mister. You American?"

"Yes, I am." Alex managed to gasp an answer. "Why?"

"You die here, mister. We all die here."

"What do you mean?"

"All in this place die. Unless you have money?" The man - Rashid - looked hopefully at Alex.

Alex shook his head. "No, no money."

"Too bad, mister. Then you die too." He paused. "Soon, I think."

Alex narrowed his eyes at the stranger. It didn't seem like a threat, more like a statement of fact. Since the man seemed to speak a fair amount of English, Alex decided a few more questions would be prudent. Information was his top priority now.

"Do any escape from here?"

The man laughed, a harsh cackling sound. "Only escape is death, mister."

"There has to be a way out. There *has* to be." Alex spoke vehemently, but the man had new questions for him.

"My name Rashid. You?"

"Alex. My name is Alex."

"You good whore, Alex?"

"What do you mean?" Alex looked at his companion suspiciously.

"You old, you not very pretty but if you good whore, then you live a little bit. Otherwise, you die fast."

Alex sighed inwardly. He was tired of being considered nothing but a whore and general lackey. First it had been by the Consortium and Spender, and now this. Some things never seemed to change.

"All right, I'm a good whore. Does that help me, Rashid?"

"Yes. You live a little bit, Alex." Rashid looked critically at his companion, shrugging slightly. "Who knows? Perhaps Allah will be merciful to you."

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Alex soon learned that these guards, unlike his former ones, preferred sexual favors over torture and violence. Despite Rashid's low opinion of his looks, Alex found that his services were the most requested. The guards came for him at all hours of the day and night, and Alex had long ceased to resist them. Part of it was practicality, since he was outnumbered, and he knew they wouldn't hesitate to use their guns, since bullets made life even cheaper than usual.

Alex tired more and more quickly as the days passed. Oddly enough, it was Rashid who took charge, caring for him as well as the meager facilities allowed. Alex wondered why he took such pains; it made no sense to him. He didn't like things that made no sense to him; they usually indicated trouble.

"Why, Rashid? Why do you bother looking out for me?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Rashid turned away from Alex's puzzled gaze. He returned quickly with a bowl of gruel, holding it out to Alex. Alex began sipping it, not bothering to look, merely hoping there wouldn't be any unpleasant surprises in it. To look in the bowl would definitely have ruined what little appetite he had left, and Alex could not afford to stop eating. He had a mission to complete.

"Not all act as Ebn el Metanaka do. You different--very different."

"You mean because I'm American." Alex managed a rough chuckle. "Yeah, that makes me different, all right."

"No, Alex. You still different." Rashid looked calmly at him. "Before here, I learn holy ways. I learn see into man's heart. But then..." The other man made a quick gesture that was unfamiliar to Alex. "Now, I wait for death like others. I not forget holy ways though, Alex. You... you not belong here."

Alex smiled sardonically at his companion. "You mean I'm a demon then? That I'm not human?"

Rashid took Alex's teasing remark seriously. "You not demon, Alex. You good; you not demon." He looked at Alex with an intense gaze that was oddly unnerving. There was something familiar about it, but Alex couldn't think what it was. "You think you make joke, but you speak truth. You look human, but you *not* human." At Alex's stricken look, Rashid touched him gently on the shoulder. "You safe, Alex. I not tell you secret."

"Thanks, Rashid." Alex summoned a small, tight smile. The man was clearly nuts, but he was an ally of sorts, and Alex needed all of those he could get.

Rashid covered Alex with a rough blanket. "Rest, Alex. Things much harder very soon."

Alex pulled the blanket tightly around him and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. If he tried really hard, maybe he could imagine he was back... home... with... But exhaustion overtook him and Alex was soon sound asleep. As Rashid watched over Alex's slumbering form, he thought he heard the faintly familiar rustling of wings and smiled.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Flight 1013/Vulpes Airlines Atlantic Ocean

Sitting alone in first class, Marita studied the papers in front of her. She knew that Alex had gone through several "refresher courses", but she had never realized that they were euphemisms for imprisonment -- so many different times. Alex never mentioned such things to her; not that she'd expected him to. Once again, Marita wondered exactly how he had managed to survive at all. She doubted if she would ever know, for Alex would never mention that part of his past to her. Tiredly, she put the papers away and tried to rest. It was several hours before she would arrive in Tunisia, and it would take a great deal of negotiating to secure Alex's release.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Penal colony, Forj Sidi Toui, Tunisia

There was a sudden flurry of activity from the guards, which was unusual for the time of day. Several guards arrived in the main hall and began removing the prisoners from a nearby cell. Alex glanced at Rashid, who looked vaguely worried.

"What is it, Rashid? What's going on?"

"Death squad, Alex." Rashid struggled to explain further. "Too many men here, Alex. So, they find way to get rid of too many."

"You mean, they kill the extra prisoners to stop overcrowding?"

Rashid considered this for a few moments before nodding. "Yes, that right, Alex."

"How do they decide, Rashid?"

"Not know, Alex." The other man shrugged slightly. "Inshallah."

Together, they watched as the guards continued to pull men from various cells. Once again, the dry air began to have an odd shimmer that went unnoticed by the guards and other occupants. Two guards soon came to their cell, consulting a list of names. One guard had a ring of keys and rattled it impatiently, while the other guard studied the list further, clearly looking for someone. Finally, the second guard turned to his comrade with a gesture of dismissal. Both guards walked away, leaving Alex and Rashid to stare bemusedly after them.

"I thought they were going to take one of us, Rashid. Why didn't they?"

Rashid appeared to be as puzzled as Alex, but he had no explanation for his new friend. The guards had their official orders, but Rashid knew that they could make up their own orders without fearing any official retribution.

"Bismillah." Rashid turned to Alex with a very relieved expression crossing his face. "You safe for now, Alex."

There was a sudden flurry of dust inside the cell at Rashid's words though, which gave the other men pause as they looked around worriedly. Alex, however, failed to notice the dust devil so Rashid wisely decided to remain silent. A sudden shimmering coalesced from the dust devil that had formed, and a slightly snide chuckle emanated from the shimmering air.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Marita entered the prison compound with considerable trepidation. Her first interview was with the warden's secretary, which should lead to an eventual interview with the warden. Spender might be dying, but his connections were still the best. As his emissary, Marita would be treated with the utmost respect, no matter how the men she dealt with really felt about her. As she entered the prison grounds, Marita had a sense of foreboding.

As she was guided through the checkpoints, her uneasiness increased, and she maintained her equilibrium only by staying focused on the necessity of getting Alex. After nearly an hour, she was finally escorted to the outer office of the warden, where his secretary slowly rose to welcome her. He was barely able to keep his eyes on her face and still remain courteous to her.

"Good day, Madam. How may I assist you?" The secretary's voice was polite but cold. He made it clear that dealing with a woman was a nuisance that was customarily beneath him.

"Good day, Sir. Mr. Spender has sent me to arrange for the transfer of a man you are holding here." Marita ignored the small discourtesies and focused on the task at hand, which was to rescue Alex.

"Of course, Madam." He clearly thought that dealing with this woman was a waste of time, but the warden had given express orders that this one was to be shown preferential treatment, in spite of the rules.

"Mr. Spender has the paperwork prepared; it only needs the warden's signature."

"May I see the paperwork now, Madam?"

"I'm sure you'll find everything in order, Sir." Marita wished she felt as confident as she sounded as she handed the documents over.

"Excellent, Madam." The man had taken the papers and was busy making notes on a pad. "What is the prisoner's name, Madam?"

"Alex Krycek."

The secretary paled, rising hurriedly from his chair. "One moment please, Madam. I must consult with the warden immediately."

Marita was left in the outer office, waiting helplessly as the minutes dragged on. Somehow, she managed to remain quiet even though her nerves felt like snapping. Finally the inner office door opened, and the secretary gestured for her to rise. Marita felt his eyes following her, and wished she had worn a longer skirt, and a scarf to cover her hair.

"His Excellency will see you now, Madam."

Marita stood on suddenly shaky legs and walked past the secretary, entering the larger office. Little had been spent on furnishings, it seemed. The budget probably goes into his pocket, she thought sourly and then turned her attention back to the problem at hand.

"Hello, Madam." The warden took his time ogling her before he gestured to a large occasional chair that had obviously been placed in front of his desk just for her. Marita sat down carefully, feeling relieved that the chair did not creak or wobble.

"Hello, Effendi." Marita was at her most professional now, convinced something was seriously wrong.

"Madam, I am afraid we have had a slight misunderstanding." The warden looked distinctly annoyed with her, uneasy at being left alone with an infidel woman and was obviously choosing his words with great care. She might be an infidel, but he had met her employer once, and he feared Spender's ideas of retribution as he feared little else.

"This man you look for, this Alex Krycek..."

The warden paused, and Marita felt like screaming. Somehow, she managed to retain her outward appearance of calm and waited for him to continue.

"Madam, I am afraid that Alex Krycek is no longer with us."

"What do you mean? Has he been transferred to another facility?" Marita felt annoyed at the repeated delays. Her mission was to see that Alex returned for yet another assignment, and this man was delaying her execution of it.

"No, Madam." The warden looked at some papers on his desk, shuffling them pointlessly. "It appears that we were not told to continue to keep him in custody. So, when we had to make what you would call "budget cuts", his name came up."

"What exactly do you mean, Effendi?" Marita felt her hands gripping the arms of the chair, and she dimly wondered if her nails would rip through the thin fabric.

"I mean, Madam, that this man you seek, this Alex Krycek--he is dead."

"What?" Marita felt faint, and something more must have shown in her face, for there was a slight flicker of pity in the warden's eyes that was gone in an instant.

"Yesterday, Madam. My records show that he died yesterday."

"Yesterday." Marita echoed hollowly. "What happened? Was he ill?"

The warden stared impassively at her. "No, Madam. He was not ill. We have too many men here and not enough money. So we make what you would call budget cuts. These men are all bad men. They deserve to die. Men with no money..." The warden shrugged, clearly eager to dismiss her and get back to his usual business. "They are the ones who are chosen..."

"...For your budget cuts. I see." Marita managed to keep her remaining composure with difficulty. "I believe that Mr. Spender had arranged for adequate funds to care for him. What happened?"

"The money did not last, Madam. He had nothing left of value except for the plastic arm, and that was useless. He was too old and ugly to be a good whore." The warden stared at her contemptuously before adding, "We let him stay here even after he had no more money. We are not unmerciful, after all, Madam. But, after nearly a year without any further contributions, then..."

Marita knew that she must look like a harridan but she no longer cared. For Alex to have died in such a manner and for no reason... it was beyond belief. Once again, she mentally cursed Spender for being such a blind fool. Alex was far more important than Spender could ever imagine.

"Can you at least show me where he is buried?"

"Actually, Madam, he hasn't been." The warden consulted his watch. "The bulldozer was repaired only a few hours ago, so they have not started the burial yet."

"Then I wish to claim his body and have it shipped back for proper burial in his country." Marita glared angrily at the man. "You will, of course, be properly reimbursed for all... *expenses*."

"Very well, Madam. I will arrange for an escort..."

"No, Effendi, you will escort me. Mr. Spender will be most angry to learn of Krycek's death, so I suggest that you oversee this project yourself, to make sure there are no further mistakes."

The warden flushed angrily. He did not wish for this woman to make a worse report to Spender, and was busily deciding which of his flunkies should take the blame for this fiasco. Sullenly he punched the intercom, signaling his secretary. The younger man hurried in, anxious to do his master's bidding.

"Yes, Excellency? What do you need?"

"You will come with us to the execution site. Madam needs to find the body of the man called Krycek."

Several minutes later, Marita stood beside the freshly dug mass grave, struggling to keep her poise. She was wearing a scarf as protection against the hot desert sun, but the bodies had already begun to swell, and the stench was overwhelming. Two guards stood by, ready to toss the corpses in--as soon as Marita had looked at each man's face. Since most of the dead men were young and dark-haired, the gruesome task was taking even longer than even the warden had expected.

"How many are there, Effendi?"

"It varies, Madam. We usually remove as many as are no longer useful. In this case, it is about eighty, perhaps more." The warden glanced at his secretary, who nodded in agreement.

"Eighty men?" Marita paled at the figure. Pressing her lips tightly together, she motioned to the guards to begin the grisly job.

Over an hour later, it was finally done. Marita had been certain she had seen Alex in the pile of bodies, but each time she had been mistaken. She knew only one thing; there was no one-armed man in this mass grave. Angrily, she turned to the warden, who had been consulting a list of names as the guards tossed the corpses into the pit.

"He obviously isn't dead, Effendi. Now, if you are done playing these humiliating games, I'd like to have him returned at once."

"But this isn't possible. His name was on the list. I marked it myself." The warden looked very uneasy, darting sideways glances to his various assistants. Except for his secretary, the other men understood very little English and had no idea of the escalating fiasco.

The small group returned to the prison. This time, they were determined to find where Alex Krycek had disappeared to.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Unaware of the drama unfolding, Alex was returned to his cell, shaking with exhaustion. He sank to the floor in a daze, barely acknowledging Rashid's worried ministrations.

"It's ok, Rashid. I'll be fine." Alex swallowed a few mouthfuls of broth, then pushed the bowl to one side. "I'll finish it later. Promise."

Rashid covered Alex with a thin blanket and sat beside his friend, on guard. It was the least he could do, for he sensed that Alex needed guarding from more than the other prisoners.

Max watched eagerly as Alex fell into a deep, quiet sleep. This was a singular chance for him to visit his soulmate without interference from the others. Max regretted very little of what had happened *Since*, but he did regret his separation from Alex. He knew that there was a very slim chance that he could sway Alex from his chosen path, but maybe, just maybe... He brightened slightly at the thought. Some things were never spoken of, but he knew that Alex longed for the time when they could be reunited once more as much as he did.

Alex dreamed he was in a large open hall filled with flowers, with a complete banquet on a long table. Walking down the hall, he tried to determine where he was. He frowned slightly, sensing that something about the place was wrong. It was perfect. Everything was just a little too perfect.

There was a slight movement to his left, and Alex whirled around, instantly on guard. The other man was in still in the shadows, but he chuckled slightly, and Alex knew instantly who it was.

"Max." Alex smiled ruefully and walked toward the other man. They embraced roughly, then stepped back slightly, continuing to gaze into each other's eyes.

"Alex." Max smiled, one of his rare, genuine smiles, then pulled Alex into a second hug. "It's been so long, Alex."

Relaxing into the other's embrace, Alex nuzzled the soft dark hair. "I know, Max. I've missed you so terribly much."

"I know, I know. I've missed you too." Max moved slowly toward a nearby divan, pulling Alex by the hand. "C'mon, let's sit down and talk."

"Just talk?" Alex smiled his very best smile, only to find it mirrored by Max. Together, they lounged side by side, staring into each other's eyes, each finding in the other a perfect companion. Alex sighed happily, relaxing for the first time in many years.

"So, what do you want to talk about, Alex?"

"Je souhaite...."

"Je souhaite...?" Max looked quizzically at Alex, trying to gauge the other's mood. Alex kept his eyes closed, and Max wondered if he had fallen asleep. Shrugging slightly, he decided to enjoy the rare truce. Such a chance might never come again, and although he had no intention of wasting time, if Alex was relaxed enough to nap beside him, he had no problem with it.

Max slowly reached over to touch the dark head next to him. It had been so terribly long since they had been together. Of all the angels, Max knew that he had shared something special with Alex. This was only a brief moment stolen out of time to be remembered and cherished. He resolved to try and persuade Alex from his quixotic mission with all of his considerable powers.

Alex stirred, smiling at Max. "I know what you're thinking, Max, so don't try and fool me. You want me to give up and quit. You want me to join you."

"You always could get past my shielding." Max gave him a rueful grin, then turned serious. "Ok, Alex. Since you already know what I planned to ask, what do you say? Will you join me?"

"No, Max." Alex shook his head sadly, regret filling his eyes. "Je t'aime, Max. Always have, probably always will. But there are others who need me more right now."

"Why, Alex?" Max glared angrily at his former love. "It's a human, isn't it? You're in love with a *human*."

"Calm down, Max." Alex laid a restraining hand on his companions forearm. "It's not what you think it is."

"It isn't?" Max still looked angry, but seemed slightly more willing to listen. "What about the human they call Mulder, Alex? *Fox* Mulder?" He snorted. "Even the humans seem to know they are nothing more than animals."

"Max..." Alex sighed, at a loss to explain his relationship with Mulder to anyone, especially to Max. "Mulder is... different. He is the key to so many things. The problem is that he has no idea of how valuable he really is." Alex paused, choosing his next words with great care. "I do love him Max, but not in the way you think."

"What is it then? How can you stand dealing with humans in such a manner? Look what they've done to you, Alex."

Alex struggled to keep his composure. Max was always stubborn, but Alex hoped that maybe this once, he could make him listen even if he couldn't make him understand. It was worth a try, anyway. "Max, listen to me. Don't you realize what's at stake here? It goes far beyond the human issue."

Max smiled patronizingly at Alex, and Alex knew that Max was not going to listen him.

"It doesn't matter, Max." Alex shrugged. "I wish you could see humans the way I see them, as they really are, and how importantly they figure in the final analysis."

Max turned slightly, staring at Alex with blatant unhappiness. "I do see them as they really are. Humans are nothing more than... than... those trained monkeys they keep captive, Alex. I admit that they are more inventive, especially when it comes to cruelty. Why you--or any of us--seem to think they are so... so..." Max stopped, sputtering with anger.

Alex gently stroked his cheek and Max quieted, not wanting to ruin things between them. Max took a deep breath, fighting for control.

"I've seen what they've done to you, Alex." Max gently touched Alex's injured left arm. "This is sacrilege, Alex. You didn't have to let them do this to you."

"It's a long story, Max and I don't want to talk about it now."

"Ok, Alex." Max shrugged slightly and moved closer, resting his head on Alex's chest. Despite everything, Alex stroked the smooth hair of his former companion.

"Max..." Alex spoke calmly, without anger. "You know that we can't be intimate."

Max just smiled sweetly at Alex. "Yes, we can. Nothing's changed between us."

"It has though, Max. Everything has changed." Alex sighed in exasperation and pulled away from Max's tenacious embrace. "We're on different sides and that means we're pushing the limits right now."

"No," Max spoke fiercely. "It isn't fair, Alex. We should be together instead of apart."

"Then join me, Max. Help me, and we will be reunited again." Alex pleaded for Max's understanding with his eyes, but Max refused to meet his gaze.

An uneasy silence grew between them and finally Max sighed in frustration, running his hand through his hair and causing it to stand up in little spikes.

"Alex, I won't lie to you. I honestly don't believe that humans are worth this sort of pain and sacrifice."

"Max, you know as well as I do what the stakes are. I could accomplish things so much more easily if you were with me." Alex knew that there was little chance of persuade his former companion, but he had to try. "We would be together, working for the same goal."

Instead of replying, Max bit back a cry of frustration. "Let me show you what lies ahead for you, Alex. Maybe then you will listen..."

"No, Max. I know what lies ahead. You don't need to show me anything."

"Why, Alex?" Max stared at him, with tears glittering on the dark lashes. "If you should die while in human form... Why would you risk such a thing?"

Despite his misgivings, Alex gathered Max in his arms, holding him close. "Sssh, Max. I'm not dead yet and I am content with my destiny. Besides, nothing is decided. Things could still work out."

Max snuggled tightly into Alex's embrace, feeling oddly anxious about Alex's future. Alex began stroking Max's hair once more, wishing that they stay this way forever. Alex knew he would be assured of success if only Max would join him.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Marita was growing more frustrated by the minute. The warden had yet to discover Alex's whereabouts, and she was seriously considering an emergency call to Spender, although to do so would be an admission of failure, and Marita had no wish to appear incompetent. She had waited too long for an opportunity to redeem herself.

"This is ridiculous, Effendi. How hard can it be to find one missing man? Surely you run the place more efficiently than this. I am not so certain that Krycek did not escape." Marita knew she was pushing her luck with her impertinence, but she didn't care. The warden was at a disadvantage and wouldn't argue with her.

"Madam, we will find him. He is here, I know it." The warden hesitated slightly, trying to decide how to phrase his next words. "I suggest you wait in the office, while I take a detail to inspect the cells."

"No, Effendi, I will not. I will go with you *personally* to make sure there are no further mistakes."

The warden glared angrily before he turned away from her. Damn Spender and the infidel woman anyway. The woman was disgusting to him, with her short skirts and her uncovered, yellow hair. The very thought of her authority was abhorrent to him. Women had their place decreed by Allah, and it was never as an equal to men. Worriedly, he gestured for his secretary to bring him yet another list of prisoners.

"There are only a few places he can be, Madam. Follow me please."

Marita followed the warden and his entourage through a maze of halls, hoping that this time they would find Alex. A sudden swirl of dust caught her eye, causing her to glance down a smaller corridor, and she was convinced that she had caught a glimpse of the man she sought.

"Here. He's down here."

"Impossible, Madam. This section is for the faithful--the man you seek is, "The warden paused, trying to think of a civil way to phrase it, "He is... an infidel."

Marita gave him a cool, distant look. "It seems that there have been many... errors... in this matter, Effendi. Indulge me, please."

"Very well, Madam." The warden sighed, and gestured for her to precede him. Marita walked slowly down the hall, ignoring the various catcalls from the prisoners. There was only one man she was concerned with, and he was waiting for her. She paused in front of the very last cell and looked in.

There was a flurry of activity at the back of the cell, and the crowd slowly parted for a man slowly making his way to the front. Aghast, she stared as Alex halted in front of her. She felt a sudden rush of concern for him; he was far thinner than expected, and he was dirty. Marita knew how badly Alex hated being dirty. Well, she would see that he could be clean before he left here, no matter how primitive the facilities might be.

Alex had heard the sudden commotion and, curious, struggled his way to the front of the cell to be confronted by his past.

"Marita Covarrubias..."

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

Monica, Tess and Andrew watched as the drama unfolded, relieved that desite Max's dubious help, things were going to plan once more.

Max stood to the side, grieving as he watched Alex leave. They had been so close in these few moments to a breakthrough of some sort... and yet he couldn't join Alex, he simply couldn't. Alex was still determined to help these humans, despite everything.

No-one seemed to notice the disappearance of the prisoner who had been known as Rashid.

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

NOTE: Raphael is the patron saint of the blind and of doctors and nurses. His name means "God Heals."

THE END

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

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