Into the Fire

by Emily and Dr. Ruthless

Disclaimer: These boys are not ours. Not only are they not ours, but when someone suggested that they could become ours, they hurled themselves out of the nearest window and are still running.

Rated: A Slash

Pairing: Dustin Yarma/Alex Krycek

Series: 1. For Services Rendered, 2. Future Perfect , 3. What You Get For Loving Me , 4. Out of the Frying Pan, 5. Into the Fire, 6. Present Tense, 7. Extremis

Warning: ***AWOOGA, AWOOGA*** serious squick warnings for everything we can think of except het sex. Maybe next time for that. Lots of schmoop in this one though.***AWOOGA, AWOOGA***

Beta: Thanks eternal to the two painstaking beta readers, who took a pile of disjointed garble and turned it into prose for us. Sebastian and Pic, we salute you. One day we will erect a plaque.

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

Mackey stood in the doorway, his eyes devouring Alex who lay on the bed, held prone by leather straps that had visibly abraded his fair skin. It seemed like an eon before Karl summoned up the nerve to cross the thick carpet and go to his adored master.

When he got closer, Karl saw angry welts on Alexs back, and blood that showed angry and red, barely scabbed, from wounds on his thighs.

"Alex? Alex, it's Karl."

Krycek tensed, whimpering.

"Where have you been, moi Karl? He killed them, Karl... killed them all. Made me watch him do it. It was my fault, wasn't it, Karl? I shouldn't have run." His voice was high and thin, a terrified boy in a snake pit he had no hope of escaping.

With a sinking heart, Karl realized that somehow, in just a matter of a couple of days, the Smoker had managed to regress Alex to the boy hed been back in Tunguska with Sergei, half a lifetime ago. Karl didn't quite know what to do. He'd come here on sufferance, to mete out a supposed punishment. Now he would have to make the Smoker believe it.

"Now you aren't so cocky, are you, Alex? It's my turn. You left me for that Dustin after all we've been through. How could you do that? I'll show you!" Climbing onto the bed, Karl began to knead the sore skin of Alex's back and buttocks. "I'll teach you. This is what you deserve."

Alex yelped when Karls fingers dug maliciously into his tender flesh.

"Yes, Karl, I deserve it... all my fault. They're dead and I could have..."

Left him for Dustin? Alex racked his brain. Dustin? He didn't know any Dustin, but Alex knew Karl never lied to him. No one did. Daddy always said he was the only liar. So did Sergei. And Karl, sweet Karl, if he had hurt him, he deserved to have his wounds salted. Karl was his only true friend now. What had he been thinking?

He bent his head, arching his back to meet Karl's hands, offering himself. If he had hurt Karl, he deserved this and more. God, but it hurt. "Please," he whimpered.

Karl opened his pants, grinning hugely for the camera that he knew was there. He'd been hard since his first sight of Alex, spread out for him like a feast. Moistening the tip of his cock with saliva, he climbed over Alex, pulled his hips up to a more accommodating angle, and slipped inside the bound man's anus.

Within, Alex was slippery and hot. Mackey realized that he had been prepared for him, and that he was not by any means the first to fuck Alex that day. Painfully aroused by the thought,, Karl began to pump his hips roughly, relishing the feel of Alex even as his mind screamed for him to stop.

Alex whimpered as his ass was invaded for what felt like the fortieth time that day. He screamed as Karl sped up his thrusts.

"Why, Karl, why?" he cried, anguished. But he had hurt his only friend. Still whimpering, he tried to relax, to take Karl deep. If anyone deserved to hurt him, it was Karl. "Yes, Karl," he said, even as his anus clenched Karl's cock, reflexively. "If I hurt you, I deserve this." He whimpered again. God, but it hurt... but for his Karl, he could take it. He felt he could take anything, as long as Karl would love him again... be his friend. If he didn't have Karl, who'd sneak him food? He was a fool... He started to cry as the pain intensified.

Two teenaged boys, sitting on a riverbank, hiding in the reeds. One offers the other bread; the other slides his hand into the river and brings water to his friend's lips. They lay there, half naked, bodies scarred and striped, holding each other tight, praying for a few hours of peace, to hold each other, and care for each other's wounds.

Suddenly men on horseback crash through the brush, coming through the reeds and jerking them up.

"Moi Karl, moi Karl."

As his orgasm took him, he fell forward with a groan, covering Alex with his body, and positioning his lips beside Alex's ear. With a gasp, Karl felt himself tighten, thrust and then explode into Alex. It felt good, but he was sickened - ashamed. How could he ever look Alex in the face again?

As Karl came, Alex sobbed, biting his lip. He thought he'd hurt his friend somehow. He wanted to die for hurting him, his only source of real love and comfort.

"I've come to help you, beloved one," Karl whispered directly into Alexs ear. "I'm sorry. So sorry. I have to hurt you or they won't believe me, but I'll get you out, I swear."

Hearing Karl's whispered promise, Alex relaxed and started to cry. The one he'd betrayed so clearly still loved him. He didn't deserve it. Shivering, he said, "Hurt me, Karl."

Aloud, Mackey cried out, reviling Alex. He didn't know if anyone was watching this live, but he knew that it had to look convincing. Mocking Alex loudly and telling him that he would soon return, he stood, tucking his now flaccid cock back into his pants, and left the room.

As Karl cursed him, Alex sniffled. His Karl had him now, and would be back to punish him further. He didn't care if there was pain; it was Karl.

When he was alone, the past played on A man with a greasy sneer stood over Alex in the cold room, eating from a pot of stew, then holding out a spoon to him, just out of reach. "You and Karl were caught by the river. Tell me, what were you doing there? What were you planning?" Alex's stomach rumbled loudly at the savory smell, but he wouldn't turn on Karl. Hed never...

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

Torn between guilt and relief, Mackey left the room and the sobbing Krycek. The Smoker was standing beside a small monitor, and had obviously been watching the performance.

Smiling grimly, the Smoker noted, "That must have been a first for you, Karl. You're usually so submissive."

Karl took a deep breath. Time to start the game.

"Sir, I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that." His face reflected cruelty and anger. "How did you get him to such a regressed stage so rapidly? Two days ago, he was king of the hill."

Spender smiled. "Ah, my boy. You forget how deeply we ingrained certain ideas into him. Certain... phrases." He put an arm around Mackey conspiratorially. "You know, for years all that was required was the right phrase. But then, he began... breaking away. Refusing commands. He was for lack of a better word splitting. What do you know about brainwashing, Karl? The fracturing of the psyche?"

"N-nothing, sir." Karl felt a shock of cold fear travel down through to his belly. Whatever they had done to Alex was far more deeply seated than he had imagined. "You brainwashed Alex?"

"Why yes. I had to bring him back to heel... back to his Daddy's knee, as it were." He smiled at the thought of Alex's head on his knee, just that morning, sucking him. "It went quite well, wouldn't you say? Do you know where he thinks he is?" If Mackey had figured that out, maybe there was hope. Maybe he could play more games with these two.

"He thought we were back in the Gulag. God! That must be at least 17 years ago. We were only 15, 16 years old. He thought that he was back with Sergei. You've certainly found a way of exercising control, sir." Mackey smiled again. Damn this! His face was starting to ache with the hell of staying civil to this monster.

"The human mind is very fragile... easily cracked." Spender was smiling his yellow smile again as he exhaled in Mackey's face. "Beautiful to witness, isn't it? An art form in itself." He pressed some keys, and the picture on the monitor zoomed in to Alex's sweat beaded forehead, revealing his eyes darting fearfully. The door creaked as a lackey entered. "It takes great skill, to keep one as strong willed as Alex balanced on the edge of sanity. But it is exquisite. He allowed you to dominate, to penetrate. What will he do when he realizes that, do you think?"

"I think he would brush it off, sir. He was chained. He had no choice. The day I can fuck him; the day he permits that without restraints I will have my revenge." Mackey paused, as though the idea had just occurred to him. "Do you think that it could happen, sir? That he would give himself to me? To have him as my toy-- that would be the most wonderful thing."

Mackey trailed off into silence. Let that seed grow, he thought. And maybe, just maybe there's a chance.

Spender smirked, watching as his lackey held a cup of water to Alex's lips. He wished he were there, giving it to Alex, feeling him in his arms, enjoying his complete mastery over the man he'd created. Alex was truly, his son in every meaningful sense of the word.

He turned to Mackey. "Do you think," he said with a contemptuous sneer, "my Alexei would ever permit you to use him as a toy?" He looked off into the monitor, contemplatively. "Of course, if it could be done in such a way as to shatter him, truly destroy him." His lips twisted cruelly. "What does Alex want, when he's using you as his toy, Karl? What are his favorite humiliations?"

"Oh, he loves to see me beg for release, but more than that, he gets off on my pleas for affection. That's what he wants from me, I think. He always wants to give it to me hard, but he wants me to bear it, to revel in it, because it's him. Now, it's my time and I want him to be aware when the tables turn." The vision that was in Karl's eyes made his face grow misty. "I loved him, you know. I would've been his forever, but I think that I'd rather he was mine."

"You don't love him still?" Spender's voice was sad. A phrase reverberated in his mind: 'For I so love the world, that I have given you my only begotten son.'

"Love him?" Mackey's voice was thoughtful. "I adored him, but he betrayed me. He betrayed me the way that he betrays everyone." He allowed bitterness to creep into his tone. "I'd like to teach him what it feels like."

He raised his eyes to meet those of the Smoker. Please, he thought. Please buy into this, or we're both history.

"My boy does love his little betrayals," Spender mused. "I suspect he's broken many a heart." He watched with soft eyes as his lackey began to attach electrodes to Alex and arranged an IV hookup for him. "We'll have to cure him of that, so he can be yours, then. Yes, I can see where that could work." His lips twitched as he imagined Alex's degradation. "He hurts you. Wasn't it you who said love hurts?"

"It hurt me, that's for sure." Karl gazed at the monitor, frowning. "What are they doing? What's the IV for?" He watched as the men began to hook up a bottle into it, and another chill went through him. He began to wonder if there would be something of Alex left to salvage.

"If you're going to make him suffer," Spender sighed, "shouldn't the suffering be exquisite? Even holy? A ritual. Put my boy on your altar, Karl. I can arrange your own tabernacle. Would you like that?"

Mackey stared at the monitor, appearing deep in thought. What, he wondered, was this old megalomaniac driving at? Turning to Spender, he nodded.

"You mean I can have him? How will you arrange it, sir?"

"My boy, if you were ever Alex's, he was yours just as much. I chose you two for each other long ago. 'What I have brought together, let no man put asunder.' He has always been yours, Karl." Turning away from the monitor to face Mackey, he added, "I have a small guest house on the property here. I thought to let you take him there. Then you can make him scream, and cry, and bleed."

The desire was thick in Mackey's voice. "Oh, God, please sir." Karl dropped to his knees and kissed the old man's shoes. "Mine to hurt? Mine to hurt or to punish." He paused. "How much do you need him, once I'm done?"

"Well, my boy, I do need him to fetch El Habibi for me. So let's say I need him... alive." His lips quivered again, and he took another drag on his cigarette. "Alive, with a flicker of spirit. But don't worry. I know how to cover up the damage to his psyche. To have him behave as if I never brainwashed him. He paused to gather his thoughts. "I'm glad you see this as fitting. Why don't we get things started?" His eyes twinkled almost gleefully. "I'm expecting Yarma soon, you know, so it's just as well this way. Would you like to hurt Yarma too, child?"

That offer hit Karl like a bucket of cold water. What did Spender mean? He shivered, and tried to school his features into an expression of lust. Fortunately, he was still crouched at the Smoker's feet.

"Sir? It would give me more pleasure than you can possibly imagine." He pressed his face to the old man's knees, and waited, holding his breath.

Spender patted Karl's head, squatting down beside him. He kissed him tenderly, stroking a thumb lovingly over the angry sores on Mackey's face.

"Pay him back for these," he said. "You should pay them both back." He kissed Karl again, then stood up and walked towards the room where Alex was now in a drug-induced haze, listening to a hypnotic suggestion reel. "No time like the present, correct?" He rang a bell, and nodded to the lackeys that appeared, telling them where and how to transport Alex.

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

Marita had finally permitted Dustin to return to his home, and the two of them were watching the throng of workmen clear up the debris of broken windows and scattered possessions. Boarded doors and windows were being replaced; flowerbeds were being reconstructed, and the splintered wood and glass were being tidied away. Dustin didn't really care. His heart was far too sore as he dwelled upon the plight of his lover. He'd tried several times to persuade Marita to let him go after Alex, but each time, she'd refused.

All they'd done was shoot, and shoot, and fight until he was sore, and then return to the range to shoot again. He was about to explode out of sheer frustration.

"You're improving, Dustin." Marita took out a couple of beers, handing one to Dustin. "What do you feel you've made the most progress in? Name three things." She smiled, waiting. She'd been pleased by his aptitude, and realized if she could get him to use his fear and his anger, as Alex did, then he'd be unstoppable. He just needed some more self-confidence.

"Ummm Let me see," he said, deceptively mild as he appeared to think. "Taking orders must be the biggest one. Then, why, there's keeping my head down while other people fight my battles. That's gotta be up there. Three That's a toughie. Maybe keeping my temper under very trying circumstances? Yep, I'm inclined to go with that one."

"Dustin, you really need to stop joking around and start taking this seriously. I know some of this has got to be nervous humor, but don't you want to help Alex? Don't you want to be his partner one day? You can't if all you know how to do is joke."

He rounded on her, the snarl on his face testament to the fact that he was not joking at all.

"You smug piece of work! You say you're his friend and yet you leave his well being to a sad sack like Karl while you hang around here, making something out of nothing, and you won't even tell me how to find him. I'm not joking. The last thing in the world this is, is funny." He stood, towering over her like a Fury, all his anger written on his face at last.

Marita walked right up to him. "You keep saying Karl's a sad man. Well, I'll bet he didn't seem so before you saw him with Alex. Actually, right now he's probably the best equipped of us to help Alex, based on what I saw on that tape. He was in the gulag with Alex, fifteen years ago. He..." She paused, looking for the right words. As if on cue, the doorbell rang. She made as if to answer it, but Dustin angrily stormed past her, saying something she didn't quite catch about it being his house.

She saw someone hand him a package, and waited to see what it was. When he brought it into the TV room and crouched before the VCR, once again she tried to stop him, to no avail.

"Where do you get off? Just leave me be, will ya?" He tore the box open, and her heart sank when he confirmed it was another videotape. He laid the packaging aside and flipped his TV set on, inserting the tape in the VCR. Turning to Marita, he said, "Just back off. I have to know what they're doing to him. Why can't you understand?"

She sighed. "You are so stubborn! Fine. Just fucking fine. If you're bound and determined to torture yourself, who am I to stop you?" She turned to walk away, then whirled on her heels. "You know, if you put half your impotent rage and frustration into your fighting..."

Narrowing her eyes, she caught a glimpse of Alex on the screen, his head cradled by the CSM, bobbing. No! She looked at Dustin, and continued, "In fact... let's see some of that rage right now." She launched herself at him, grabbing his jacket, flipping him over her back judo-style, pinning him to the floor. Please, God, she thought, as she stood back from the prone man, let him have missed that.

But Dustin had seen, and then had been tossed onto the floor by this double-dyed bitch, who seemed to want to make his life hell. Now, his anger flared white-hot. All the pain and misery hed endured over the last few days suddenly boiled up and he screamed at her in rage, as he threw her across the room.

Suddenly horrified, he cringed as she thudded to the floor.

Lifting her head, Marita felt a stab of pain and slumped back down. "Guess I... asked for that," she muttered, trying to catch her breath. "Ooof..." Inwardly, she felt a small thrill. If he could do that at the right moment... Seeing that he was again watching the tape, she slowly got to her knees, checking herself for injuries.

"Sorry," he mumbled, eyes glued to the TV. There was just enough hostility in his voice to let her know that he wasn't sorry at all now that he saw she was okay. On the screen, the old man was fondling his lover as Alex slobbered and sucked at his cock. Dustin couldn't tear his eyes away.

There was no sound, and for that he was oddly grateful, seeing all too clearly the apparent eagerness of his beloved as he serviced the old man. A sob caught in his throat. He had to find Alex. A thought suddenly occurred to him and he grabbed for the envelope in which the tape had been delivered.

Marita crawled over to Dustin, and squatted beside him as he looked at the envelope. The return address was clearly written on it.

"I guess there's nothing I can say that will prevent you from going," she muttered. She placed a hand on his knee, gently. How the hell have they regressed him so far and so fast, she wondered, as she watched Krycek on the screen, nestling in the Smoker's lap after swallowing his come. "You're right, you know... it's time to go."

The tears were flowing down Dustin's face unheeded as he watched the events unfold. When at last the tape finished playing, he rose to his feet without a word and went into his bedroom to pack, ignoring Marita totally.

By the time she followed him into the room, he was throwing his clothes into a soft-sided case.

Marita nodded and went to the phone, reserving two tickets on the next flight to DC

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

Dustin hated redeye flights. He always felt clammy and disgusting afterward, and this was no exception. He and Marita left the Dulles airport in a rental car, with her driving toward Crystal City.

Dustin hadn't spoken more than monosyllables to her since he had thrown her across the room the previous night. He was locked in a world where he seemed to suffer the pain that Alex was going through over and over again. She glanced at him as he sat, set-jawed, huddled in the seat beside her, and tried to order what she needed to tell him, so that he'd take it in and not reject it.

"Dustin... I need you to hear me, now. When we get there, the door will be opened by a woman, Greta. She's tough, but I've stopped her before. Remember how I taught you to grab the throat? I'll want you to do that after she calls the Smoker. Take her into the next room. We don't want the Smoker to see you just yet. Disable Greta while I deal with the Smoker. Hopefully I can disable or distract him, then get the upper hand and make him tell me where Alex is. But he can't see you or he'll try to take you, too. Trust me, Dustin. I *know* him." She looked at him, willing him to understand. "Dustin?"

He turned to look at her, eyes glowing with pain from his too-pale face. He nodded curtly. "Disable Greta, and hide. Right." He fell silent for a minute or two, and then seemed to shake himself out of his lethargy.

"At least Ill be with him. You understand that, don't you?" Biting his lip he turned back to study his knotted fingers, excluding her once more.

Marita sighed. She knew how he felt, but had she ever seen someone so in love?

"Yes, Dustin, youll be with him." But at what cost, and what shape will Alex be in when you get to him? she asked herself. Not to mention Alex would just about die if he knew Dustin had seen him like that.

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

"Alex? Alex, baby?" Karl pushed open to door to the suite that the Smoker had allocated to them, and looked around cautiously. Alex was sitting in a chair beside the window, rocking himself slowly with his eyes closed. Lost in his own world, he didn't respond to Karl's voice.

Crossing the room, Karl knelt beside Alex, his hands coming to rest on the man's knees.

"Come on, Alex. It's Karl."

Alex flinched backwards, hugging himself, rocking harder. Softly, singsong, he repeated the phrases that comforted him, held him together. "Good boy, pretty boy," he said. "Shouldn't have run. Told me I was such a good boy." He stared into space. "Daddy said I was a pretty boy." He hugged himself tighter, shivering. "So cold in here."

Karl gazed at Alex, wondering just what the hell he could do, and then finally, he sighed.

"This is fucked!" He yelled at the camera that was mounted in the corner of the room. "What good is taking revenge from a sad shell like this? He doesn't even fucking know me." Standing quickly and abruptly turning, he left the room and went looking for the Smoker, anger temporarily making him strong.

At the sound of a voice raised in anger, Alex closed his eyes, flinching from an expected blow.

The Smoker had just come into the guesthouse, with a tray of bread, a glass, and a bottle of water. He set them on the table and looked at Karl.

"No good?" He smiled. "Don't you know the joy of the head game, Karl? Why, that's half the fun! How's my boy? Shall I show you how to play?"

Warily following the Smoker back to Alex's side, Mackey stood, arms folded, and scowled.

"Just look at him. Where's the fun if he's already broken beyond repair." He aimed a kick at the chair in which Alex was sitting, provoking a whimper from the man who huddled there. "I want him to know that Im in charge now, and to regret it forever."

Walking around Alex's chair, the Smoker stopped in front of him and caught his face in a hand, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbone gently. "Alex, he said softly. "Why are you here, Alex? What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?"

Alex swallowed. His eyes were closed, but he nuzzled his Daddy's hand. "I... I... betrayed Karl. My only friend... but Sergei... he killed them."

"Then you shouldn't have run, boy," the Smoker said angrily, slapping Alex's face, hard.

Reflexively turning his face with the slap, Alex opened his eyes and looked at the Smoker balefully. "I had to run. Or try to. He was sick and needed help... moi Karl."

The Smoker looked at Karl with a cruel twist of his lips. "You see?"

"He doesn't know me. He doesn't know what he did to me and he wont know its me doing what I want to do to him. This isnt what I want." Karl was furious. "After all I've been through, he has to understand, or it will all be for nothing.

Karl took hold of Alex's shoulder and shook it roughly, demanding, "Alex, tell me about Dustin. Come on. Tell me who you love best."

"Who? I don' know Dustin." He shook his head, but the Smoker grabbed him.

"Yes, you do, Alex. You know Dustin. What do you call him? 'Little cub,' isnt that right? Come now, Alex."

Alex sobbed, and hung his head. "Never knew a little cub... little Jeffy, but no little cub."

The Smoker looked at Mackey. "Tell him. Tell him he betrayed you, and how in time, he'll understand."

Mackey growled. This was killing him. How could he end it? How could he get this evil old beast to leave him alone with Alex?

"Alex?" he addressed the cringing occupant of the chair. "Dustin is your lover. He's In LA. You remember?" He paused, waiting for Alex to respond, but Alex only sniffed loudly before beginning to sob quietly, his expression apparently without comprehension. "I don't know what you mean, Mackey said. I don't know how to remind him. Help me?"

The Smoker sighed. "Forget Dustin, Karl. Alex is in the gulag. You've got to bring him home from there. Start at the gulag. Now, I've got some things to do, so I'm going to leave you here with him. If you want to coax him, there's food and water in the next room. Just remember to use them only to reward him, or to get information. He won't hurt you.."

Mackey didnt turn until the outer door of the guesthouse slammed shut.

Alex cringed in the chair. "Karl? Moi Karl? Did I... I'm sorry, moi Karl."

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

Dustin was hopping with impatience, his heart thumping as Marita drove them out to Crystal City.

"Are you going to tell me anything useful about where we're going?" After a pause, he muttered, "I'm sorry. You do know that I'm really afraid about this, don't you? I hope some day we'll be able to actually talk to each other without all this fear getting in the way."

Marita drove, her hands clenched on the steering wheel.

"I hope so, too." She tried a smile, but it didn't feel right, so she shook her head. "I'm afraid, too, if it does you any good. I know what they do out there." She shook her head again. "Hopefully we'll make it in time. Have you ever... Dustin, you ever done any... movies on the CIA's mind control experiments?"

"Have I personally? No. That cold war stuff is so" He broke off, horror dawning as he realized the import of her words. "You think that they might be going to do that to Alex? Why would they want to? He's on our side, isn't he?" The thought of Alex sitting tied to a chair while lights flashed in his eyes and someone intoned in a hollow voice "Forget... forget",' made him want to smile.

Marita frowned at Dustin and pursed her lips. "No. I don't think it. I know it. That's how they get him to do what he does. They take away his free will, and while he's in their control, he does what they ask. But--. Do you remember what happens to a person when he *realizes*, suddenly, what has been done to him? When he *doesn't* fully forget whats been done to him, when the personality... dissociates? Disintegrates? I've seen men go mad, Dustin. If you can remember from your movies... remember how they helped those people. Think about how to talk to them. I'm going to get you to Alex, but you may have to baby-sit him. I don't know what shape he'll be in."

"But I don't know what to do! I don't have a clue." Dustin's sudden panic was total. His face lost all color and he drew blood by clenching his fists until his nails cut his skin. "Tell me how to help him. You have to."

Marita gently took his hand so he wouldn't cut himself further. "You have to talk to him from where he is. How does he see you, do you know?"

Hands shaking, Dustin frowned as he desperately tried to dredge up some sort of answer. They'd had so little time together.

"I I don't know. He called me his little cub. I don't know why. He stabbed someone for me. Told me that I was his pet. He told me that I would learn to top Karl Mackey, and that he would always tell me the truth and not lie, and and I don't know! I don't know. What can I tell you?" He broke off, shaking his head angrily.

Marita turned onto a driveway. "Stabbed someone for you... little cub... top Karl. Do you think he was protective of you? Or saw you as himself, in a way? A... chance, a second chance, to get it right?"

She fell silent to concentrate on the narrow, ill-defined track. It was a back route into the estate. The element of surprise was a valuable thing.

Dustin was out of the car almost before Marita had parked, and stood, hopping from foot to foot as he waited for her to step out herself and lock it.

"I'm afraid for him," he said hoarsely, following as she moved forward at last. "This is like the movies, only there's no popcorn, and no safe seat to huddle down into. How are we going to do this?"

"Very carefully," Marita said tersely. "Stay right behind me, and when I say right behind me, I want to feel your breath on my neck. When we get inside, I'll tell you who to take out, if it needs doing." She would try to do it all herself, but just in case...

Checking to see that he was behind her, she walked to the back door, slipping inside silently, and motioning for Dustin to follow. The next door opened into the kitchen where a middle-aged woman was cooking soup. Marita whispered to Dustin, "Knock her out if she causes trouble." She didn't think the woman would, she looked easy to intimidate, but Marita needed to build Dustin's self-confidence.

Swallowing his nerves, Dustin pressed close behind her, trying to keep his steps small enough that he didn't actually tread on her heels. As they entered the kitchen he felt the sweat stand out on his brow. Marita had produced a small gun, and the woman at the stove had no time to react before she was seized, her mouth covered while Marita shoved the gun into her back.

"Find something to bind her, Dustin." The voice was low, but the intensity told the tale. He didn't question, rummaging in drawers until he came up with a reel of packing tape, and bringing it back to Marita with an unfocussed, wild-eyed look.

Marita tied the woman's hands behind her back swiftly. She similarly bound the woman's feet, and taped her mouth. After checking to see she was bound fast, Marita nodded at Dustin and continued, flattening herself against the wall, advancing with her gun held ready.

They tiptoed around the kitchen and peered through the half opened door to the hallway beyond. Everything seemed quiet.

"I know where he used to keep his prisoners. If he hasnt changed his mind, we need to get down into the basement," she whispered. "It's this way, come on." Silently, she crept through the door on stealthy feet, with Dustin, satellite, in orbit. They were almost to the door at the opposite side of the hall when the voice fell bluntly on them, causing them both to jump in fear.

"Ah, Marita, so good of you to bring him at my request. You must be Dustin. How happy I am to meet you at last."

Marita scowled. "I didn't bring him here. He came for Alex." She stuck her gun into the Smokers ribs. "Now. Tell us where to find him. Sir," she added sarcastically.

"Why, how melodramatic of you, my dear. Of course I will. I was awaiting your arrival. I believe that you will find that Alex is very comfortable. Do, please follow me." The Smoker lit up, drew in a drag with a smile of satisfaction, turning from the route to the dungeon, leading them towards the front door.

"Come on," Marita instructed Dustin, stepping closer to him and keeping her gun out. As they followed the Smoker, Marita kept a close eye on Dustin. He won't get you, not if I can help it.

With a smile that was almost a sneer, the Smoker led the way out and across the grounds to a small cabin. Pushing the door open, he stood aside for the two of them to enter, and then motioned for them to pass to the right of the doorway, into a room which had a large observation window through which could be seen two men.

"I advise silence. They need quiet, and they can hear you if you raise your voice. Of course," he added, with an amused glance in Dustin's direction, "You are at liberty to take whatever action you see fit, although the repercussions to Alex's health might not be what hope."

Marita watched Alex and Karl with a rising disgust for the Smoker. She schooled her features to impassivity, the only sign of her distress a slight set to her jaw.

In the room, Alex was lying with his head in Karl's lap, keening softly as Karl stroked his hair. Karl offered him a piece of bread, and he flinched. Karl tried to give it again, but Alex shook his head. "It's a trick..."

"You can have it. I brought it for you."

"Good boy... pretty boy. Can't eat or Sergei will get angry."

Karl stroked his hair. "You're a good boy Alex. Here..."

Mewling, Alex turned his head, looking for comfort. He saw the familiar zipper. Sergei would let him eat if he sucked on him. He pulled the zipper down, taking out Karl's cock.

Karl, horrified yet enthralled, which horrified him more, could only stare. Finally, he got himself together and tried to push Alex away, but Alex only keened louder, and nuzzled in closer. "Please... let me be good."

Marita studied Dustin uneasily.

Dustin's breath was shortening as he watched, sickened.

"What the hell have you done to him?" he whispered, gorge rising as he watched Karl fending Alex off, while Alex sobbed and tried to service him.

"This is Alex Krycek as he really is, the Smoker insisted. I've brought him to a place of safety. Go in if you think that you can do better than Karl. There's nothing holding you back." The old man's eyes shone with evil good humor.

Marita cut her eyes to Dustin, knowing that there wasn't anything she could do, if Dustin was bound and determined to go.

Alex had finally succeeded in taking Karl deep, closing his eyes. This was right; this was good. He was sucking Sergei's cock and the old man would love him. He didn't even want food, now. He just wanted to suck, and be safe.

"Alex!" Karl groaned. He knew he should push Alex away. Or should he? If it comforted Alex... "Alex, do you know who I am?"

"Master Sergei."

Karl sighed. How had he become Sergei all of a sudden?

"No, Alex... it's me, it's Karl."

"Karl? Tell him I'm sorry... didn't mean to betray him."

Dustin swore under his breath. He couldn't stand this any more.

"Where are they?" he hissed at the old man.

Wordlessly, the Smoker indicated the way, and as Dustin moved in the indicated direction, shot out a hand to prevent Marita from following.

"You and I can have a chat while they are renewing their acquaintance."

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

As Alex heard the door open, he whimpered, lifting his head and releasing Mackey's cock. Instantly he cowered back against Mackey.

Mackey put an arm around Alex, hugging him. "Alex...?" He looked at Dustin bearing down on him and spoke quickly, "I -- Dustin. He won't know you. He barely knows me. He's 15 and in the gulag. We have to... have to try to talk him out."

Dustin had been heading for Mackey, his fists raised. Hearing the words through a red haze of fury, he paused.

"What do you mean?" he growled. "What have you done to him?"

Alex knew the other man was angry. He pressed against Karl, wide eyed and shivering. He didn't know what he'd done, but it had to be something.

"Don't... don't hurt me. I'll be a good boy... a pretty boy. Just don't hurt me. I'm sorry... so sorry." Part of him knew that the man would probably enjoy his cringing and come to claim him. He lowered his eyes as he had been trained to do. "Be a good boy."

"I haven't done anything," Karl said. "It's him -- the Smoker." He rubbed Alex reassuringly, thinking grimly, Dustin wasn't in the gulag. What can he know? It felt good to have an edge over Dustin once more. Relishing his renewed status, Karl sneered, "Lovely man. Have you met him yet?"

Dustin stood over the two of them, while Karl petted and soothed Alex into silence, coaxing until he finally accepted the bread he had been offered.

"I " Dustin didn't know what to say. Sinking to his knees beside their chair, he tried his best to break through the Alex's trance. "Please, Alex. Please come back to me. Don't forget me." He reached to stroke Alex's hair. "I love you so much."

Alex stiffened, but he knew he must not pull away, or he'd be punished. Who was this man, and why didnt he just let Alex blow him? He said he loved Alex, but Alex knew that was a lie. Forget... forget him? Who was he?

In a child's voice, he whimpered as Dustin touched him, then dared to ask. "Who are you? You must be new here. Never seen you before. What's your name?"

"Please, my Alex, you must know me." Dustin was frantic. "You're the one I love. I can't lose you."

Seeing no alternative, Dustin turned to Karl at last.

"You know what's happening. Tell me, please." The agony in his eyes as he faced Mackey was all too plain. "Help me, Karl. Help him."

Karl sighed. "I can try. Hold him. Try holding him tightly, loving him. Sometimes that gets through. If he shivers, tighten your hold. Tell him youll protect him. Tell him your name." Or would that frighten him? "Dustin, pretend you're a young boy in the gulag, shoved in the dungeon, too. Offer to be his friend."

Moving in, Dustin slipped his arms around Alex, pressing up against him and Karl.

"I love you, Alex. Please, baby, it's Dustin. I'm here with you. Help me bear this." Karl was holding them both now, stroking and soothing. "Alex, love, please don't shut me out."

Alex shivered. "Don't know a Dustin... never did." He whimpered as the man pressed tighter to him, but relaxed as Karl hugged him again. Alex had been given to Dustin by Karl, so he must be okay. Alex sniffed, and looked at Dustin.

A flash of memory... those eyes... a smell. He sniffed for the scent again. Where did he know this man from? Confused, he reached out a hand to stroke the other mans face. "Dust...?"

Heart in his mouth, Dustin petted Alex's hair, and then leaned in to whisper, "You stabbed that leather man for me, Alex. You saved me. I love you." He was afraid to do more than hold Alex, though it was a relief just to touch him. At least he still lived, and somewhere deep inside him was the man that had forged Dustin's love. "Come on, my love, please. Come back to me. I need you."

Alex stiffened. "I stabbed --." Had he hurt someone? Sergei had punished him very cruelly the last time he'd laid a hand on another man in vengeance. Leather man -- a boss? He'd stabbed a boss? He didn't remember it, but if this man, somehow familiar, said so, then it must be true. He shimmied back against the wall, whipping his head from side to side in denial, looking for Sergei.

"No, I didn't." Memories arose of the Pit -- long weeks of starvation, supplementing the meager ration of water with snow. He began to shiver again.

Karl looked at Dustin, shaking his head.

Dustin took Alex in his arms once more.

"You were good. You are good, Alex. You know that I'm here to be your reward. Come back to me, baby, please?"

Alex whimpered. "Trick." Sergei never rewarded him, not anymore. He didn't deserve it. But maybe this man wanted to use him. Was that what he was trying to say? Alex looked at him hopefully. "I'll be good for you. Just don't hurt me. What do you want?"

Karl handed Dustin a piece of bread and some water. "Here. Try these. Sometimes they help."

Breaking off a piece of the bread, Dustin held it to his confused lover's lips.

"Here, baby. Please eat for me. I love you so much." A thought occurred to him and he fumbled in his pocket for a second, drawing out a chocolate bar that he had bought at the airport. Looking to Mackey for permission, he began to peel away the wrapper. Alex watched Dustin warily. Very occasionally the guards had chocolate, and they'd teased him like this,

knowing how he loved it. His real father, before he had gone away, would often give him chocolate as a treat. It made him feel warm, and loved. Looking at the man, he dared to grin. He hadn't seen his father in years, and -- had he come to take him home? Away from the gulag, and his Daddy? Take him home for real?

"Papa?" Alex asked tentatively.

Karl watched. Alex had never - oh, of course. Dustin was the right age to be Alex's father when he had given Alex to the Smoker. Yarma was on thin ice, and Mackey needed to warn him.

"Careful, Dustin..."

"Karl, I'm flying blind here. Help me. Give me something more than be careful. What can I do? I can't bear to see him like this." Dustin's voice broke, as he turned to Alex. "Baby, my name is Dustin. I'm not your papa. I just love you, do you hear me?" He pressed a square of chocolate in between Alex's quivering lips. "I'd give you anything. Tell me what you need."

"Cold."

"He thinks youre his father -- his real father, Mackey offered. He loved his real father. When he says Daddy, he means the Smoker."

"Daddy?" Alex said. "Daddy always said I was a good boy, a pretty boy. Did Papa give the chocolate?" He sucked at his piece slowly, wanting it to last. He laid his head on Dustin's shoulder. "Did Papa send you? Is he taking me home?" Alex's tone was hopeful.

"The Smoker left Alex there in the gulag, saying he'd be back 'soon,'" Mackey interjected. "'Soon' wasn't for five years, and even then..."

"God!" Dustin hung his head. What use was there to even try? Without hope, what was the point of being here? A sob escaped him as he sat, utterly defeated. Raising his eyes to meet Karl's, he shook his head. "I love him so much."

Turning to Alex, he took off his jacket and tucked it around the naked shoulders.

"Don't be cold, love. Let me keep you warm."

Alex shivered, pressing closer to Dustin, and wrapped an arm around him. "He killed them... killed them all. I think I had a little cub once." Confused, Alex paused, biting his lip. A flash of memory - the steakhouse with Dustin - uncatchable as a puff of smoke.

"I can't remember!" Alex cried. "I'm sorry, I don't know... he killed them, though, and he'll kill my little cub, too. Or maybe he has already."

Alex looked from Mackey to Dustin, holding Dustin tight.

"Looks like he's yours, anyway," Karl noted with a sigh. "I don't know how to help you. He's never acted quite this way before. I don't know who or... where he is right now. I believe he's talking about you, though." Not wanting to speak aloud and upset Alex, he pantomimed using a pen and paper.

Without releasing Alex from his arms, Dustin fumbled into his pocket to extract a small diary, offering it to Mackey, who pulled the pen from the holder in the spine and flipped it open,

Alex stirred uneasily, and Dustin stroked him, rocking him gently. "Hush now, beloved. I won't let them hurt you." He offered a second square of the precious chocolate.

"Always hurt. Never love. Not no more." Alex licked at the chocolate, then took it slowly. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sweet taste. Maybe... maybe this man would love him -- love him and leave him like the others? "Do you know Alex?" He remembered the man earlier, who had given him water. "He only has one arm."

Karl looked up at this. He was furiously writing in the notebook, the story of Alex and the younger boys and especially little Jeffy - the one he tried to protect at the end. He wrote about how Alex had been made to watch.

A question at the end: "Is Little Cub a name for Little Jeffy? He's protective of you."

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

The observation room was full of tension. The Smoker had watched the first few minutes after Dustin's entrance with interest, but once it had become apparent that he was not going to attack Mackey, he had lost his enthusiasm.

"You may stay here and watch if you like, but very little will happen now. We'll remedy that tomorrow, perhaps." He smiled, puffing on the ever-present cigarette. "Id like you to join me in conference at seven. Be on time, please."

He strode out the door, taking the key to the room where Alex was being held.

Marita nodded, watching, hopeful. He'd ordered silence. Warned her that she could be heard if she raised her voice. She waited, wondering if she could use that. She supposed they couldn't see her, but maybe...

Inside the room, Alex clung to Dustin, who now had tears rolling down his cheeks. Karl was scribbling furiously in a small book, and she was not able to see what he was writing. Alex's face looked almost angelically pure as he nestled into Dustin's shoulder. When Dustin spoke, Alex stirred, but didn't seem to be too afraid.

"Alex, you're Alex. You're the one. You have only one arm, see, my baby? It's you."

"No, he... Alex gave me water and then he... loved me. Sucked me the way it feels so good. Said he'd betrayed Fox Mulder and that's why he lost his arm. Do you know who that is?"

In the book, Mackey scribbled: Fox Mulder. FBI agent.

Marita paused with her hand poised to rap the glass. She didn't want to startle them. Maybe the mention of Mulder...

Alex stirred against Dustin. "I got two arms, see?" Looking at them, Alex stiffened. One was fake -- prosthetic. He frowned. "When did that happen?" he asked in a frightened voice.

"Oh, God, baby!" Dustin held him close, crushing him against his chest as he thought frantically for something to say. "Alex, love, look at me." When the thickly fringed eyes were raised to his, he brushed his lips over Alex's face. "It's me, Dustin. See, I'm wearing your collar. Please come back to me."

Alex's heart pounded. This man was holding him too tightly - he couldn't breathe! He tossed his head from side to side, squirming until he felt the arms around him loosen. He looked at the man, puzzled. That voice - there was something about it.

"Collar? No, can't be mine, I don't..." He reached up to stroke the collar, rags of memory drifting and fraying. 'Do you like the present, Dustin?' 'It's a fucking dog collar -- what's to like?'

Mackey tapped Dustin on the shoulder to show him the notebook.

Glancing at the essay Mackey had written, he tried his damnedest to assimilate the information. Dustins head was whirling, and he felt nauseous. Whatever had been done to his lover was far too complex for him to fathom, much less to untangle. Sobbing, he laid his head against Alex.

"Baby, help me understand, please help me. I don't know what to do."

Alex held Dustin, running a finger along his neck, and the collar. "Did I...? You...?" He blinked, staring into the familiar and loving eyes. Tentatively, he kissed Dustin's lips.

They were soft, and full, and tasted so familiar. Alex deepened the kiss, flicking his tongue against Dustin's teeth. So, so familiar. That voice... his own, replying. 'What do you want from me?' 'Honesty. Devotion. Obedience.' 'I--I don't understand.'

Alex licked at Dustin's ear, inhaled the warm scent of his skin, as gossamer threads of recent memory twined confusingly with the long-ago reality that trapped his mind.

Karl was frowning, apparently trying to think of a solution to the problem. Marita scratched on the glass, and Mackey seemed to recall that it was an observation window. He walked across to it, asking, What is it?

"Mackey, it's Marita..."

"Marita?" Karl spoke low, casting a swift glance over his shoulder at the two lovers, who were sharing a kiss that seemed fulfill a mutual need. Dustin rocked Alex gently, holding and kissing him with a fierce, gentle intensity. I don't know what to do for them, for either of them. Alex is so far gone I don't know if he'll come out of it again time." Mackey sidled over to the door, unlocked it and left to join Marita behind the glass.

Marita shrugged. "I have some old phrases, but I don't know if they'll work anymore, if I can even remember which is for what." She frowned, trying to recall. "Tell him... I can't remember if this is the right one. 'Be good for your daddy' is one, but it either snaps him out or sends him deeper. Maybe does both, depending. But be careful, when he snaps out of it... he does it in a big way."

When their attention turned back inside the room, Alex was still kissing Dustin as though he wished he could climb inside his mouth. Dustin appeared petrified. It was plain to see why. The man he loved was acting like a child, and Dustin knew - that too was apparent - that he was way out of his depth. He could feel Alex was interested in him sexually, although the fear of what might happen if he let him go further while he was in this strange child-like state was there for all to see. Terrified that he might do something irreparable, it was obvious that Dustin feared he wouldn't ever see his sardonic love again.

Disengaging gently, Dustin held Alex away from him by the shoulders while he gazed into the cloudy eyes.

"Alex! Come on back to me, love. I need you."

Alex looked into the man's eyes, seeing that he was distraught. He knew he'd done something wrong. But what? His voice cracked with emotion.

"What do you want? Tell me and I'll do it. I promise to be good. I've just forgotten what it is." He thought for a moment, biting his lip. Maybe he was supposed to give this man a blowjob. Yes, that was it! He smiled. Here was something he could do! He lowered his head, unbuttoning and unzipping the man's pants. Taking the flaccid cock into his mouth, he curled up against the man's thigh and began to suck.

Dustin's voice broke as he sobbed, and hesitantly pulled away from the sucking mouth.

"Alex, lover, you are good. You're a good boy, but you need help." He looked around for Mackey, worried when he didnt see him. "Help me, Karl, please help me," he called. He wrapped his arms around Alex again, and stroked him reassuringly while his eyes stared grimly at the door, willing Mackey to return. "You don't have to suck me. I just want you to stay with me and be my love."

Alex whimpered. He didn't understand. He wasn't sure what to do. Dustin had refastened his clothing. Alex had failed, and they would be angry with him.

"I don't know what you want!" he wailed, rubbing his cheek on Dustin's knee. Love? What was love? It only happened in fairytales. In a dull, flat voice he stated, "Sergei says I'm bad and no one will love me."

Dustin, lost in despair, thought that Alex had fallen silent, then realized he was repeating, in a low whisper, "What do you want? What do you want?" Before Dustin could comment Alex crouched before him on his hands and knees in abject submission and, in a pathetic parody of seduction, asked, "Would you like to fuck me?" Alex felt a stir of hope. Maybe he'd got it right finally. Sometimes-- in fact often-- that's what they wanted. Hopefully, he waited.

Mackey reentered the room. "Theres a phrase that will either make him or break him." He jotted it down in the notebook. "Careful with it."

Nodding his thanks, Dustin took it and read the words. Not yet ready to invoke them, he said, "Baby, listen to me, I love you. Sergei lied to you. I love you and I will always love you. Do you understand?" Alex subsided to sit on his heels and wait. He said nothing, but there was still fear looming behind his eyes.

Dustin looked again at the phrases. They seemed meaningless, but at Mackey's gestured urging, he sighed, and read aloud, --"Be good for your Daddy, Alex. Come on now."

Alex bit his lip. In distress, he raised his eyes to Dustin's. His Daddy-- his real Papa-- was back? Looking back at Dustin, he trembled, crouching before him, looking into his eyes until the door opening attracted his attention.

Dustin held him to reassure him, and when the two of them looked at the door together, they seemed like twin children, confused, and afraid. Almost unconsciously, Mackey moved to stand protectively before them.

As the Smoker came into the room, with Marita in tow, he smiled urbanely. Looking at the two identical men he rubbed his hands together.

"I'm so glad that you've found your heart's desire, Dustin. I may call you Dustin, may I not?"

Alex shivered as the voice trickled down to him through sands of time. Desperately he clung to Dustin and buried his head against his chest.

Lower lip quivering, he sobbed, "Don't leave me with him, Papa. Don't make me go with him." This was his Papa, and he was about to walk out of his life, leaving him with a man whose eyes chilled his soul.

"He scares me, Papa. You told me he'd take good care of me, but his eyes, Papa. Please, don't leave me here. Take me with you!" Crying hard now, his tears soaked his Papa's shirt through.

"Oh, God!" Dustin's voice was panic laden. What the hell had happened? Alex was suddenly sobbing like a small child. His blind attempts to help seemed to be taking his beloved further into his childhood. Accusingly, he asked the Smoker, "What have you done to him?"

"You think that I bear responsibility for his sudden, distressing lapse? How refreshingly perceptive of you, Dustin. There is no Alex Krycek. All he is, as you can see, is a mass of hypnotic commands and programs. You'd do far better to leave him behind, you know." The Smoker turned to Marita. "Tell him what you know, my dear. It's such a joy to hear you speak."

"What I know?" Marita began. She could barely think, let alone speak coherently. She hated to see her friend like this. "Since Alex was a little boy, he's been programmed to do what others tell him. When he tries to refuse - it stresses his system so that he reverts to a state where he cant. Its difficult to understand. I couldn't tell you it all now. There are books that explain. If you have the stomach for it, I'll give you some to read."

It was all she could do not to strike the Smoker. "You explain the process so simply," she stated, hoping Dustin followed her logic.

Swearing a blue streak, Dustin attempted to disengage Alex, and rose to his feet. Alex wailed and hung on to his leg, refusing to let him go. After a moment Karl intervened, speaking sharply to Alex, until Alex turned to him, burying his face into the fabric of Karl's trousers instead.

Dustin was furious. He took the few paces needed to bring him eye to eye with the Smoker; clumsily drawing the gun that Marita had given him out of his pocket.

"I want Alex back. Give him to me, as he was, or you're a dead man. I've killed before, you know. I'm not afraid to use this."

The Smoker raised his cigarette to his mouth, grinning with evil good humor, and then blew sharply on the cylinder at his lips. A small projectile shot from the smoking tube, striking Dustin in the neck. With a look of utter astonishment, Dustin crumpled and fell to the ground.

Alex immediately let go of Mackey and went to the fallen man's side. "Papa? Papa!" He lifted a limp arm and put it over himself, curling up beside Dustin. "Papa. Papa," he sobbed and faced the Smoker. In a voice that was full of pain, he implored, "Please help my Papa."

The Smoker ignored Alex, choosing instead to stoop and relieve Dustin of his gun. Having emptied the clip, he replaced it in Dustin's pocket. "Bring him," he called in a raised voice, turning to leave the room. When Alex scrambled after him, the Smoker kicked the sobbing man-child in the gut.

Two men suddenly materialized with a stretcher, loaded the unconscious Dustin onto it and spirited him away.

Alex was once again on his knees, holding his stomach. When he turned around, he saw a blonde woman rushing after the Smoker, and a dark haired man looking at him curiously. He stared at the man as he tried to stand. It hurt.

The man knelt beside him and took him into his arms, rocking him, crooning in a light, pleasant baritone.

"Come, Alyosha, it's time for your nap. Papa will be back directly. He won't let anyone hurt you." Those were the right things to say. Alex permitted Mackey to lead him to the bed and tuck the blankets around him. At last, Alex slept, his thumb in his mouth.

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

Spender turned as the door opened, and a furious Dustin Yarma stormed through it.

He'd watched on a monitor as Marita brought books to Dustin, and smiled thinly as hed waded into them with dogged determination. It would be interesting to see how this man, who by all accounts was completely self absorbed, would react to the science by which Alex, the man he professed to love so much, had been shaped and conditioned. Seeing Alex the way he was had certainly thrown him; now it was time to play. The Smoker would have enjoyed a reaction of horror and rejection from Dustin, but one worked with what one was given. He stroked a videotape as he ruminated.

"Dustin," he said, acknowledging the younger mans presence. "How was your reading?" Lighting a cigarette, he leaned back in his chair.

I want Alex set free. Dustin's voice was a smoky threat as he approached the wing chair where the old man sat. "Let him go. Set him free. He's not a thing to barter with or use as you will; he's a man. He's my man."

Dustin stood over the Smoker, his hands clenched into fists as his mind raced to find some way - any way at all - to free the man he loved. Finally, he sighed. "Please let him go."

Spender laughed. "Of course he's mine to barter with or use as I will. His father gave him to me, years ago. In exchange for his life, and my silence on his whereabouts, he gave me his son -- his beautiful, beautiful son." Spender took a drag on his cigarette contemplatively, and indicated that Dustin was to be seated. After staring at the chair for several long moments, Dustin sat. Only then did Spender continue, "What would you give me in exchange for him, Dustin? If I can bring him back, that is. You must realize Alex's value to me."

Coldness gripped Dustin's stomach. Sweat ran trickles down his scalp, and his heart beat a tattoo as Dustin pondered the question. Finally, he raised his eyes to the old man, asking, "What would you take for him?"

Spender smiled cruelly. "It would have to be something of equal worth, and beauty. Perhaps someone who would serve me in equal capacity." He took a long, slow drag, eyes closed. He took just as long to exhale, opening his eyes and looking directly at Dustin. "Yourself. Yes, in exchange for Alex, I think I could accept you. You have fire. I appreciate that." He took another drag, adding, "Alex grows weak. You know, he may not make it back."

The stunned silence was broken when Dustin snorted with harsh laughter.

"You ask me to give myself to you in exchange for Alex. Then you tell me that he might not be able to overcome your brainwashing. Do you take me for an idiot? Give me a realistic price, old man. Your terms are laughable." He closed his mouth with a snap, pressing his fingers against the gun, which hed been surprised to find in his pocket.

"You must not want him very badly. I can only infer that you never loved my Alex at all. It's wrong to lie about matters of the heart, Dustin," Spender said sadly. "How will he feel to know you never loved him as Mackey did?"

"Don't play games with me, said Dustin, fiercely. "I love him a damned sight more than you'll ever understand. Karl? I guess Karl loves him too - or did, anyway, but he's not Karl's. He's mine. Give him back to me." Dustin's fingers were pressed, white on the arm of the chair in which he had been induced to take a seat.

Though Dustin had skimmed through Marita's books, the reality of what had been done to his lover was so dreadful that he didn't want to consider the information, hoping that Spender was the key, the magic key, to Alex's mind.

"He's yours?" Spender laughed again. "Why, Dustin. How could he be yours? No one gave him to you. You're the one with the collar." Spender smiled. "I have a tape for you to watch. I think you'll find it... educational. About your love. Marita has told me how eagerly you watched the little tapes I sent you." Inserting the videocassette into the player behind his desk caused static to fill the small room. A picture of Karl as he must have been the previous day appeared. Dustin could see the burns to his nose and eyelid as he spoke to the Smoker. Bruises stood out, livid on his skin, their ugliness vivid on the huge TV screen.

"Love him?" Mackey was saying. "I adored him, but he betrayed me. He betrayed me the way that he betrays everyone." Dustin could hear the anger in Karl's voice. "I think I'd like to teach him what it feels like."

Hissing his breath out between his teeth, Dustin reflected that this approach was what he and Marita had agreed with Karl. So far, so good, though it wouldn't be the best idea to tell the Smoker that. He growled at the old man.

"Leave my Alex alone. I'm warning you--"

"I have not done a thing to your Alex. Watch, young man." The boy was cocksure and impulsive. Truly, Spender couldn't wait for the axe to fall. Why, he might well kill his only link to Alex regressed as he was. Then young Dustin would be in a pretty pickle. Spender smiled as the tape played on, and Mackey entered Alex's room.

Dustin watched as Karl probed the weals on Alex's buttocks and back, deliberately digging in his nails. He heard Mackey murmuring cruel words to his lover, and saw him enter him, fucking him hard, while Alex whimpered and cried. By the time the show was over, he was again furious.

Spender smiled as he said, "Mackey loves Alex more than anyone, yet that's the way he treats my son. How can I trust you with him? You've known him less than a week. How do I know you won't treat him the same way or worse? Perhaps you'd like to speak to Karl?"

"Speak to Karl? And say what?" Dustin was half out of his chair again as he processed the accusation that Spender had made.

"I love him. What else can I say or do?" He drew the gun, sure that he would be able persuade the evil old man to take him to Alex.

Laughing indulgently, Spender averred, "My dear boy. I merely want you to prove your devotion to my son. You love him? How far would you go for him?" He took a drag, staring off into space. "If you've done your reading, you'll know that even if I gave you Alex back, now, today, he may never be the same. Anyway, I need him for a job." Spender stood up, smiling. "You can't take his place on this one. But maybe the next time. You do look very like him, you know."

Dustin ground his teeth. "How far will I go?" He raised his gun, assuming the two handed stance that Marita had taken such pains to teach him, and looked down the barrel at his target. "Bring him back, or Ill kill you. That's how far I'll go."

Spender smirked, knowing the gun wasn't loaded. Cocking his head to one side, he said, "What does he call you -- Little Cub? Why is that? Because you could never kill anyone? Oh, forgive me, I should say except for Tara. Sweet, sweet, innocent Tara." He pressed a button, and a picture of Tara appeared on the wall. "She would have flipped over Minnow for you. She was beginning to care for you, and to see how Minnow hurt you." Spender walked closer, putting an arm around the aghast Dustins shoulders. "Little Cub, why do you hurt those who would help you?"

Dustin howled in fury, and dug the gun into the Smoker's ribs.

"Back off, you bastard." When the old man didn't move, Dustin gritted his teeth and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. The gun issued only a faint click, so he tried again. A terrible realization stole over him, and he stared at the gun that had betrayed him. "What? How?" He raised horrified eyes to the smirking old man who stood beside him. What a fucking idiot I am. Why would he have left the damned thing in my pocket? Dustin drooped.

Spender guided the younger man back to his chair before speaking. "A little impotent, are we, Little Cub? I felt that with your... inexperience, and temper, it would be healthier for us all if you were neutered. So to speak." He took Dustin's face in his hands lovingly. "It would be a shame to have to hurt such a... pretty boy." He said the last singsong, as Alex might have. Leaning forward, he kissed Dustin on the lips. "We have much to go over, young man."

Practically choking, Dustin flung the old man away from him. This situation was so far beyond his comprehension that he had no idea how to deal with it. He scrubbed his mouth with the back of his hand in an attempt to eradicate that obscene kiss.

"What do we have to go over? The only thing I want to know is why youve done this to Alex?" He slumped, his fear becoming terror, as he finally understood that he, too, was a prisoner here.

"Alex was always such a good boy," Spender mused, watching blue smoke curl from the tip of his cigarette. "Then he began to get ideas about leaving me. After all I've done for him." Seeing Dustin's skeptical expression, he straightened up a bit. "I put him through the best schools, gave him all my love and wisdom, all I had to give him. A warm bed and no cares in the world."

He pressed a button on the monitor, and the screen flickered for a moment, then showed a view of Alex Krycek curled up in a bed, thumb in his mouth. "Look at him. No cares at all. No cares, because he is seven and all is done for him. But, as you know, no one is seven forever.

On the screen, Marita and Mackey walked into the room, waking Alex. Krycek sat up slowly, shaking his head. Karl and Marita sat on either side of him, stroking his arms.

Spender flipped a switch, and sound that matched the picture filled the office.

"Where am I?" Krycek asked in his normal voice. Then, memories caught up with him and he hung his head, looking sidelong at Marita. "Where's Dustin?"

Spender turned off the monitor with a smile. "Alex wants to leave me. How ungrateful can a man be?"

A faint sound from Dustin drew the Smokers attention. Dustin was white faced, but his jaw was set.

"Take me to him. Please take me to him. I need to see him." Dropping his eyes, Dustin shrank back into the seat, hugging himself. This was going very badly. He wondered if Marita had been on his side for real, or whether she had always intended for him to be caught in this mans web also.

Spender smiled, squatting beside Dustin. "You wish to see Alex, young man? Think that can be arranged." He stood, walking to his desk and pressing a button. "Ms. Covarrubias, Mr. Mackey? Please, come to my office. I need to go over something with the two of you, and Mr. Krycek has a guest."

In his room, Krycek looked at Marita and Karl. "Why am I afraid to ask?"

Spender walked over to take Dustin's arm. "Come. You can see your friend now. Hes told me how he loves you. Why wait?"

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

Entering Alex's room for the second time, Dustin was in turmoil. He was so scared that his body was covered in sweat; his heart was pounding, and he could proceed no further than pressing his back against the door.

"Alex?" Dustins eyes were closed, and his pulse thrummed so loudly that he thought that he would burst. Please, oh, please be Alex, and not a baby. Please be my strong, brave lover. I thought that I was saving you, but it seems as though I need you to save me. Again.

Krycek leapt off the bed, eyes dark. "Dustin Yarma. What are you doing here? I told you to stay in California, with Marita." His heart swelled to see his lover, and see he was all right, but how long would that last? Spender would get his hooks into him.

Alex was also ashamed. His loose shirt and drawstring cotton pants, hospital clothes made him look terrible - he sure felt it. How could he protect his love when he couldn't even protect himself? Dustin would leave him if he got close enough to see his impotence. Unable to face that, he turned away.

"I never loved you, Dustin." It was a huge lie, but he wished he, Dustin, and Spender - the bastard had to be watching - would believe it.

Dustin gasped, and banged his head back against the door, his face clenched in pain and anger. "No!" he screamed. "You loved me. You love me. Don't do this to me, Alex. I love you too much."

There was a brief silence, before Dustin slowly crumpled, sinking down to the floor with his face in his hands.

"What am I, Dustin? What am I? Im a spy. Spies aren't known for their fidelity or for telling the truth. Both of which you wanted." He sat on the bed. "We're also..." When Alex looked at Dustin, he saw his sadness, his love.

Alex felt darkness wash over him again. He couldn't avoid this. He decided that it was for the best.

"You love me, Dustin? Show it. Come prove it."

As Dustin raised his head, Krycek saw the collar that was around his neck.

*Flash*: A 15-year old Alex, running his fingers over that same collar on a familiar neck.

There was a harshness in his voice as Alex demanded, Where did you get that collar?" He sniffed, smelling the acrid smoke on Dustin. Krycek's voice hitched. "From him? You've been talking to him, haven't you? Haven't you?"

This was killing him. Alex was accusing him of something incomprehensible. He didnt understand what was happening, but this Alex wasnt the man who had been his lover. This was someone else, someone who didnt know him, and who seemed to accuse him of collusion with his enemy Dustin slowly unfastened the collar. Tears streamed down his face but he made no sound as he fumbled the buckle undone and tossed it to lie pathetically at Alex's feet.

"Yeah, I've been talking to him. Your blonde friend brought me. I was" He choked, breath unsteady for a minute before continuing, bitterly. "I was going to let him have me to save you. You must find that funny. More the fool me for loving you, I guess."

"I guess." Alex shut his eyes, taking a ragged breath. "Come here Dustin. Please, sit by me. I do love you... I do. We have to talk." His voice was barely a whisper. Would Dustin hear?

When Dustin didnt speak, Alex filled the void. "You don't love me anyway, Dustin. How can you?"

Dustin didn't know what to do, what to believe. His life had officially entered the twilight zone and he could no longer think straight. He sat on the floor with his back to the door and rocked himself from side to side as the tears continued to wet his face.

Alex forced himself to look at Dustin. His lover seemed not to have heard him. Slowly, he reached for the collar that lay at his feet. As he slid his fingers along its length, he hung his head. It looked as though his lover didn't want him any more. His worst fears were realized. He kissed the collar, smelling Dustin's scent on it.

"I really love you, you know," he sobbed.

Dustin growled. What the hell was this? First he does, then he doesn't. Now, he does again. His mind reeled from the abrupt changes. What the hell was Alex doing? How could he bear this when he had no idea what was truth and what wasnt. He growled again, launching himself at the other man, bearing him back onto the bed, lashing out at him.

Startled, Alex gasped as he got a lapful of 175 pounds of furious Dustin Yarma, flattening him into the mattress. When he could speak, he grunted, "I deserved that."

Inwardly, Alex was smiling, just a bit. Maybe Dustin was learning. Catching Dustin's left ear in his teeth, he whispered, "I never meant I didn't love you. That was for him to hear. He thinks I love you, he'll hurt you, too," Alex gasped. "But, oh, God I love you. I never stopped. It hurt me when you threw down the collar. You - you helped me hang on. I need you, Dustin. I love you. Please, understand. I know I'm pathetic, here, now, and I probably disgust you. But now you see what I've been running from. Please, baby, see that I need you."

Dustin froze. Now what was he up to? He growled again and allowed his anger to wash over him - over the two of them, shaking Alex hard as he pinned him down with his body. His growls gradually became words, as the frantic man attempted to express the emotions that drove him. Angry, random words finally resolved into a chant of, "Love you, you bastard, love you."

At last, panting hard, Dustin paused to catch his breath and actually looked at Alex.

"Jesus!" He lowered his mouth until it touched Alex's.

Though the pain of Dustins assault made Alex wince, he melted almost instantaneously as he was suffused with lust for his lookalike lover. He arched his body up to meet Dustin's; he was hard, and even though he scarcely believed it, he thought Dustin was, too. As Dustin kissed him, Alex put his arm around Dustin's back, clasping his lover to him, opening his mouth wide to receive the kiss. He thrust upwards as he touched his tongue to Dustin's, gasping.

"I am, that. I am, but I love you, too. Oh... Alex couldnt make himself care what the Smoking Man saw. His brain was mush. He was with his lover and he wanted only to make everything right.

Alex was kissing him back, holding him and Alexs mouth was hot against him as Dustin moaned in need. Dustin pressed against him, not sure what was going on, but wanting this contact, needing Alex to hold him.

They rolled together, until Alex lay on top of Dustin, controlling the kisses that grew deeper, sweeter and more desperate. The fingers of Dustin's left hand gripped Alex's hair, while his right slid over the bruised, striped skin to pull Alex closer as Dustin ground his hips against the body of his lover.

"Ah." Alex arched his back as Dustin hit a sore spot. To avoid further pain, he gently took Dustin's arms, laying them against the bed, holding them there. Grinding his erection against his lover's, Alex growled lustily, "God, what you do to me, baby." Dropping his mouth to Dustin's neck, he nipped a ring of love bites across the front creating a shadow of the collar Dustin had removed. "Drive me crazy. Gotta have you." He ran a hand under the silk of the shirt, over the smooth skin beneath. "God, yeah."

He wanted to fuck Dustin, then and there. He dropped his hand to Dustin's fly, probing, seeking... finding the zipper. "Think we should, baby?"

Dustin's body was shaking. He felt drugged. All of his inhibitions, all of his fears faded in the face of Alex's passion. Winding his legs around Alex's hips, he tried to get as close as possible to his lover.

"He loves me; he loves me not. He loves me; he loves me not. Growling again, Dustin sank his teeth into Alex's shoulder, biting hard enough to draw blood. "Which is it, you bastard? Which?"

Grinning, Alex thrust hard against Dustin. "Didn't you hear me, love? I said I loved you from hell to breakfast and nothing can keep me from you." Dipping his head again, he canted it to expose his neck to Dustin. "Bite me again, little cub."

Complying, but acting more gently this time, Dustin sucked the abused skin into his mouth, still frantic. Ill never know, will I? I'll never know if you do or you don't. It's too much." He could feel Alex's hands at his belt, and shortly thereafter the cool air playing on his heated erection. Writhing, Dustin shifted his hips to permit the removal of pants and underwear until the two of them could press against each other, flesh to flesh. "Too much," he repeated. "I don't want to love you."

"But you do, don't you?" Alex asked. "I need you. Can't be without you. I know that now." He licked at Dustin's neck, then bit hard. "Need you so, so much." Dropping a hand to Dustin's cock, he stroked it, and then caressed his balls. "Oh, lover... lover," Alex crooned, raising his hips and running his hands from Dustin's thighs up his torso. Putting a knee between Dustin's thighs to part them, Alex asked, "What do you want, baby? Anything for my Dustin."

Alex's hand was moving on his dick, maddeningly slowly, spreading the moisture that oozed from the tip. Dustin arched himself, wanting Alex's touch, wanting more, and needing affirmation of the love that he had come to doubt today.

"M-make me believe you, Alex. Love me. Do whatever you want, but love me." "

I'll love you. Love you so good." Alex used some of the sweet stickiness on his hand to lube Dustin's ass, slipping a finger into that warm, tight, heaven. He gasped as Dustin's opening seemed to suck him in, bending to kiss his lover as he slicked his walls. Capturing Dustin's mouth, Alex refused to release it, even as he removed his fingers, lifted Dustin's hips slightly, pushed in with his cock, felt a give, and finally gained entrance. Wrapped his arm around Dustin's shoulders, he kissed him fiercely.

As Alex claimed his mouth Dustin clawed at him, trying to make him shove in deep. When finally Alex was buried in him to the balls, he held his breath, waiting for the burn to ease, and the wonderful, deep, sweet sensations to begin.

Putting his hand on Dustin's shoulder, he looked down at his lover, sweating beneath him. Alex shoved his hips forward fiercely, to claim him, thrusting harder and harder. He felt like he was coming home with each thrust, familiar tight warmth welcomed its prodigal love. Grunting., Alex dug his nails into the firm mattress on which he'd lain earlier as a seven year old, clinging to sanity by a thread.

That boy remained, but he hid, deep inside. Alex thrust into Dustin fiercely, as if he could banish his demons that way.

A sudden burst of glowing heat licked up Dustin's balls to set his cock alight, and Dustin felt animalistic, unable to express himself other than by screaming, hoarse and shrill, and by sinking his teeth into the flesh of his lover. He came hard, gulping air as he tried to breathe, every muscle rigid beneath Alex's touch.

Krycek slammed himself into Dustin, over and over, trying to lose himself, but he couldnt forget where they were. Reality came crashing back. Dustin ripping the collar off was foremost in his mind, followed by the imagined image of Spender touching his beloved. How Dustin could allow him to take him now was beyond Alex. Love him? How could Dustin love him? He could hope, but Alex was angry. How could he help Dustin when he couldn't even help himself? And Dustin, sweet Dustin, had taken the collar off yet still said he loved him. It was different, wrong.

Alex continued thrusting, over and over, desperate to come after feeling Dustin's release. He couldn't do it. He couldn't come.

Howling his pain and rage, Alex fell onto Dustin, sobbing. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he said, crying harder. Rolling off of Dustin, Alex curled up in a ball. "So sorry. I can't be... I can't... Dustin, please hold me. I feel so lost." If Dustin held him, he'd know if Dustin loved him or not.

Dustin leaned over him, taking in his distress. "What? What's the matter, love?" He slid his arms around Alex, pressing in close as the other man shook. "Come on, you're the strong one. Don't let me down. I can't bear it, if you do this.

Arms tightening around Alex, Dustin kissed Alex wherever his mouth touched.

Alex leaned back against Dustin, hoping that if he told him, he'd understand, and not leave -- not stop loving him. "H - how can I keep you safe, keep my promise to you, when Im like this? If I'd never tried to make you mine, you wouldn't be here. You'd be safe, in Hollywood, at a party, not in the home of a madman. Oh, Dustin, I'm so sorry." Finding the collar, Alex brought it to his face, caressing it. "How can you be mine, or want to be, when I can't be yours? No matter how much I want to be!" He rolled over, snuggling against Dustin. "I want to love you -- be loved by you. But this is all I can offer you."

"You have to love me, or it's all over. You can't stop, can't leave me." Dustin spoke fiercely, still clinging tightly to Alex. "It's no good trying to hide your love from that old man. Youve already told him that you love me. He knows everything there is to know about you. He's drugged you and programmed you until he thinks he owns your soul, but he told me that once you do this job for him he'll let you go." He ducked his head, kissed Alex's throat, and then extended his neck, offering it to Alex, inviting the replacement of the collar. "I love you."

Krycek laughed bitterly. "And you believed him -- wait." He stiffened. "The ... you *know* about that stuff? How do you know about that?" He felt a knot of realization and fear in his gut.

To avoid thinking, Alex spoke quickly. "I thought I was free, but I'm not. When I'm free, I'll put the collar back on you. I just. Right now, it doesn't..."

Dustin tried to deal with both of Alexs issues. "Yeah, I know about it. I saw it, Alex. He showed me tapes. Half the time you believed that you were a little kid, and cried for your papa. ." Dustin winced at the expression in Alex's pain-darkened eyes. "Maybe you're not free, baby, but you will be. I promise you that you will be. Just don't ever deny me, please."

Laying his head on Alex's chest, Dustin ceased to speak, merely stroking his lover gently as they snuggled together.

Somehow, knowing that Dustin knew his secret relieved Krycek enough so that he could relax into the arms of his lover.

"So now that you know, I gotta ask you-- don't get me wrong-- but, I gotta know. How can you... you still... respect me after that?" Holding onto Dustin, almost in supplication, Alex lightly stroked Dustin's arm in rhythm with his shallow breaths.

Dustin exhaled softly, tightening his arms around Alex briefly as he did so. Pondering the question caused the little crease to appear at the top of his nose,

"You're just not to be denied," Dustin said, carefully, picking his way through words to piece together his meaning. "I've had more highs and lows over the past week with you than ever before in my life. Bottom line is that you've got me hooked." He rolled to place Alex under him, staring down into cloudy green eyes as he spoke. "I think that you're braver than anyone else I've ever met. A lesser man would have given in - killed himself - or maybe become like Karl, a cardboard figure living a cutout life. You're not like that, Alex. You never will be."

"I ... I've thought about it," Krycek admitted. "Killing myself. But I always figured that, if I did that, he'd win. I'm not willing to give him the satisfaction of breaking me." He bit his lip, acutely aware of the fact that in so many ways, he was already broken. Some would say, beyond repair. Yet...

"Thank you," Alex continued. "Thank you for seeing that Im different. Karl - Dont judge him by what you see. If hes broken, I did that as much as anyone. At his directive, of course, but that doesnt make it right. Karl isnt cardboard. He's been to hell and back. I don't love him like I love you, but I feel responsible for him."

Looking into his love's eyes, Alex tried for levity. "Been in Hollywood for years and one week with me has too many ups and downs. If this were a script, Yarma, would you buy it?" He smiled, and ran his arm lovingly along Dustin's, up to his shoulder and neck.

Dustin let out a shout of laughter. "Buy it? Hell,. I'm going to write it. Youre gonna have your own TV show, baby. It will be a ratings magnet. You'll be a shadowy government agent - let me think. Has to be black ops I expect. You'll lurk in the background, applying pressure to otherwise upright Feds, and bumping off anyone that appears to be interfering with your goals. We cant find out what your goals are or youll lose your air of mystery. Oh, baby, we'll be top of the Nielsens before we know it." He continued to chuckle as Alex fixed him with a stern look.

Alex playfully swatted Dustin's nose.

"Yeah, yeah. Prime time here we come." He kissed Dustin's cheek, voice becoming serious. "I'd... I'd like to say it's great to see you but, under the circumstances. . . Did Marita teach you stuff?"

"That woman," grumbled Dustin, pleased that Alex seemed to be coming out of his panic attack. "She threw me over her shoulder, and kicked me in the nuts. Yeah, baby, I had a blast." He peeped at Alex from under his lashes, trying to ascertain his lover's state of mind. "I didn't sleep with her, if that's what you were asking. I didn't want her."

Alex snuggled against Dustin's side. He seemed more vulnerable than Dustin had ever seen him. "There was one thing though, Alex."

"Yeah?" Alex had a small smile on his face, imagining Marita slinging Dustin around like a sack of potatoes. "What would that be?"

Dustin's face turned bleak, his good humor completely evaporating in the space of a second or two. He tipped Alex's chin up so that they were eye to eye.

"Mackey. I'm not proud of what I did to Karl. He wanted it, and I did it, but it was the worst think I've ever done." He fell silent, waiting for Alex to sneer at him. Dustin had always known that he wasnt going to measure up.

"What, Dustin? No matter what you did, I guarantee you, it's no worse than I've done." He stroked Dustin's back, lightly. "What was it, love?"

"I fucked him. He begged me, and I did, and he made me mad enough to hit him while I was doing it. He came and thanked me, but I couldn't come. That upset him, but I couldn't. I'm sorry for letting you down." Dustin's voice rose and fell, musical and honeyed, but his words were anguished and his face was bleak. "I can't be you. I can only be me. I couldnt come for him."

Alex sighed. "I'm sure Mackey is okay with that. He - I - that is..." Biting his lip, he tried again. "He's part of my... I have to stop hurting him. He was with me when... How much about my background do you know, Dustin? Do you know what he --what we..." He paused, thinking about everything Dustin had said. "What do you mean, you let me down? You did the right thing."

He fell silent, running his hands over Dustin's chest. He didn't know how long the Smoker would let him be with his love and he wanted to memorize every plane and curve of his body, every shadow, every nuance, all the tones of his voice and every scent, every subtle smell. He pulled Dustin to him, crying silently.

Dustin tightened his arms around the other man. "Don't," he said. "Please don't cry. I don't want to be you, only to have you beside me forever, teaching me how to live and how to love you."

At that, Krycek lost it altogether. Pulling himself together enough to speak, he said, "Dustin, I want that too-- nothing more than that. But don't you see? Every time I find some shred of happiness in my life, he takes it away. And when he takes it away, he... Krycek's voice caught in his throat. "He corrupts it, turns it into something profane. Turns it against me." He pulled Dustin closer. "For your own good, I should push you away, so he can't hurt you. Thats what I was trying to do. But I'm weak and I need you. I love you more than anything." His sobs subsided. "Dustin... Dustin, I need you."

Somehow, that admission sounded right to Krycek, and he felt better for having said it.

Making soothing sounds, Dustin rocked his sobbing lover.

"Don't cry, Alex. I can't do without you either. Whatever you need, I'll do my best to give you. You and I will always find each other. I won't let it be otherwise." Dustin fell silent, his hands gently mapping the smooth skin, finding the weals and partly healed scabs. "Sleep now, love. We have to be rested or we'll never get out of here."

Krycek rested his head on Dustin's chest. "I can't sleep -- not when I know what he'll do to you tomorrow. Will you still love me then? I feel that I have one night with you before I lose you forever. You do know what he does to those who I love?"

"You won't lose me that easily, you know that. I would like to know one thing, though. How the hell did Karl Mackey get the way he is? What was done to him?"

Alex looked at Dustin, trying to gauge how much he wanted to know. Dustin wanted it all. Very well.

"Karl was also taken by the government as a young boy. He was in a different program, though. He became a straight spy -- his guise was that of an exchange student. He was captured in Russia, and brought to Tunguska. We became fast friends there and that was used against us. Even though he was older by a few years, he was more vulnerable. They brutalized him, and I was... I would protect him. When the Smoker called me back," he muttered with a derisive snort, "he got Mackey, too. He wanted to use him to train me." He trailed off, looking into Dustin's eyes. "He... he made me hurt my best friend."

Eyes glittering with guilty tears, Alex dared Dustin to ask him to go on, or revile him and kick him from the bed.

By now, Dustin understood what these pregnant pauses and sad looks signified. He stared into the brilliant eyes that peered so dolefully at him, and heaved a sigh.

"Listen. You keep judging me, and I'm not going to stand for it any more. Quit expecting me to walk out on you, and treat me like an equal, goddammit!" As he finished speaking, Dustin allowed his head to flop back onto the pillow. "Talk to me, Alex, please."

"Maybe I'm that way because everyone else judges me and walks out," Krycek muttered, lowering his eyelids. "I... Don't want to be hurt again.

After a beat, or two, he raised his eyes to Dustin's once more. "He told me to control Mackey. To... to make him do as I said, and take it. He brainwashed Mackey, I suppose, into wanting it. I can't think of any other reason why he'd let me treat him that way. He surely can't love me -- not really. Not of his own free will. I mean -- the things I've done. I'll... I'll never get over it. What I am."

Dustin was growing impatient. "Tell me why in the hell youre accepting guilt for stuff that you were programmed to do. I'm not clear on that at all."

"Because," Alex said darkly, "God help me, but I believe I was beginning to actually *enjoy* it. I *liked* his shame, his pleas for me to love him. They were like a drug, an amphetamine. You know? I mean-- I craved it. More and more." A possibility suddenly occurred to him. Maybe, unknowingly, he'd been programmed to feel that way. "I know what's going to happen, Dustin. This guilt -- it's time catching up to me. I... " He clung to Dustin, holding him tight. "I don't want anything to happen to my love for you. I don't want to lose you. I'm so afraid that the more I tell you -- even though you ask me to - I'm afraid, Dustin. I - I know you think I'm strong and brave. And I don't want to disillusion you, because then you wouldn't love me. And I couldn't bear that."

Dustin growled. "You're putting words into my mouth again, you you faint heart. You know what? If you spend tonight in fear, and then there is no tomorrow, you've lost it all. I learned that one the hard way." He dropped a kiss on Alex's tousled hair. "Don't throw tonight away. It's all we can count on."

"That's true." Krycek thought about it. He could lose Dustin tomorrow, and then what? He laid his head on Dustin's shoulder. "I want you to know that I'm no superhero. All I can give you is myself, and at the moment..." He stopped. He definitely was doing it again. "Maybe I should just shut up." He wasn't sure what Dustin wanted or needed to hear, so he looked at him in mute inquiry, hoping for a clue.

"What did you mean, you found out the hard way, Dustin? You ask me to bare my soul; I might as well ask you to bare yours. What did you mean by that?"

"Oh, God, Alex, you know that Minnow took over my life? It was my own fault. I let it happen and didn't have the backbone to challenge him. He took almost everything I had, and left me on the edge with nothing but resentment. You know, if I'd had a little less ego and a little more spirit, I'd never have been in that position. You've got so much more strength than I do. Don't sell yourself out the way that I did."

Alex disagreed and he said so. "But Minnow never got it all. He never got your fire, your soul. He never bent you to his will so far you forgot your own." Alex cupped Dustin's face, staring into his eyes. "He never told you a lie and called it the truth and made you believe." He kissed Dustin's cheek. "You always know the lies from the truth, and reality from bull. You see the truth. I... I can't do that. I see a truth, but not the truth." He knew he was babbling again, and to stop it, he pressed his lips to Dustin's, taking him in a soulful kiss. Feeling grounded, Alex pressed the length of his body against Dustin's, wrapping his arms around Dustin's torso and pulling him in as close as possible.

These kisses were more important to Dustin now than they had ever been. He lost himself in the press and slide of lips over flesh, and the sweet feel of his lover's fingers on his skin. This was all he wanted. He was afraid of what tomorrow would bring, but he would take what was offered tonight. This was the only truth that there was. He wanted no other.

When at last Alex released his mouth, Dustin grinned slyly at him. "Never told me a lie and called it the truth and made me believe it, huh?" He kissed Alex's eyes. "Minnow did just that to me. He made me believe that I'd killed Tara. Don't let the past get in the way, Alex. Now is all we have."

Alex sighed. "Yeah, yours did do that to you, too, didn't he?" He smiled against Dustin's neck, nipping at it. "We have much in common." Nuzzling closer, he mumbled, "Love you. There. That's truth." Alex almost purred as he licked Dustin's throat contentedly and snuggled in again. "It's just -- all I want is here, now. You're right. Let's enjoy the moment. Now, how best to *do* that...?"

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

For each man, to fall asleep in his lover's arms was perfect. Dustin didn't dream; he slept a peaceful, blissful sleep, Alex's body warm against him. Toward morning, there was a faint hissing that made Alex moan drowsily in protest, and the two men's slumber became more profound. They weren't aware of the men who came to carry them out of the room, and they didn't wake when Marita's voice rang throughout the house, demanding their release.

When at last Dustin opened his eyes, it was as if hed entered a new and terrifying world. He was lying face down on a leather-padded bench, wrists and ankles manacled. What was worse, Alex was nowhere in sight.

Alex awoke, held fast to a wall by chains at his wrist and ankles. He found himself in an enclosure looking into a room through one-way glass. In the room he saw Dustin strapped prone on a bench. He howled, as he futilely pulled against the manacles. "No. No! Not Dustin!" he yelled. "Take me, kill me, do anything to me, but please, oh please, oh please not Dustin."

He shrieked in fury Spender walked in, ran a hand appraisingly over Dustin's body, all the while somehow looking straight at Alex.

Krycek couldn't look away. It was like driving past the scene of a car wreck, or seeing a cat about to be hit by a speeding vehicle. He had to look. The scene held his eyes.

He howled again as Spender touched his beloved's face, then ran his hands along his back.

Dustin could hear the cries, faint but easily recognizable. "Where's Alex? What are you doing to him? Youre hurting him; I can hear him. Why don't you let him go?"

The old man merely continued to touch Dustin, probing and testing as he leered at Alex.

At last the Smoker knelt in front of Dustin, stroking his hair softly. "I'm not hurting Alex. He can see us, in this room, and he realizes that hes hurting you. If Alex had agreed to do his job, I wouldn't have to do this. I'm sorry, Dustin." Despite the pretty sentiment, the Smokers smile betrayed his sadistic enjoyment of the situation as he ran a hand along Dustin's flank.

A man as beautiful as Alex -- unspoiled and fiery, relatively unmanipulated as yet. He licked his lips and grew hard at the thought of taking this man.

Walking behind Dustin, he caressed the firm ass and reached down to fondle his balls. He felt between Dustin's legs and began to stroke his cock, as he leaned over the captives back, biting his shoulder.

In his "room, Krycek was frantic, banging on the glass, swearing in Russian, and crying. Blood ran from his wrist from his efforts to jerk free of the shackles. "No. Not Dustin. Please, not Dustin."

Dustin knew that this was going to be unpleasant, but he was resigned to it happening. He'd known ever since hed failed to shoot the old man that he would end up playing this scene. He ignored the Smoker. "It's okay, lover. He won't kill me, and I can stand this. Don't fret; don't even watch. It's not worth it."

His words were brought to an abrupt halt as the Smoker slapped him hard, making his ears ring and raising a huge, hand-shaped welt on his face.

Alex flung himself against the shackles at his lover's words. It wasn't okay. Dustin was too good for the Smoker. Not watch? How could he not watch? He felt rage wash over him as he saw the old man touch Dustin's ass. "I'm going to kill you!" he yelled. "I'll kill you!"

Spender laughed at Krycek, running his hand to Dustin's back, tweaking a muscle there, and returning to his balls. He knelt down, and began to lick Dustin's asshole, and then his balls, sucking them into his mouth and swirling his tongue around, before going back to Dustin's rosebud. He unzipped as he stood, taking out his cock, placing it at Dustin's entrance. Grinning cruelly at Alex, he shoved into Dustin to the hilt, leaning over his back and holding his hips for leverage. Dustin ground his teeth together. He could stand this, if only his lover would stay safe.

The response from Krycek was another kick at the glass, which his legs could barely reach. "You bastard! Dustin! No!" Krycek writhed and jerked, trying to free himself. As blood ran down his hand he remembered a Stephen King novel in which a handcuffed woman freed herself by slicking her wrists with her own blood, but these cuffs seemed too well built for that. Yet he had to try. Hitting his wrist against the metal, Alex endeavored to get more blood on the cuff.

The door to his room opened and Alex found himself confronted by a large, muscular gentleman dressed in leather, with a greasy ponytail hanging down between his shoulder blades. As Alex struggled and fought for freedom, the huge man sniggered and ambled forward to take hold of Alex by the balls, applying just enough pressure to hurt.

"You keep your eyes on the master. He's doing this 'specially for you. He doesnt want it wasted, does he?" The thug leered at Alex, exhaling fetid breath into his face as he spoke. "The master says that you gotta watch." He squeezed Alex's balls hard, and Alex criedouldn't help but cry out as the blazing agony took him. "If you don't watch, the pretty boy with the two strong arms will die. We don't want that, now, do we?"

Hissing, Alex glared at the leather boy. "Of course not." His eyes became flinty, and he directed his attention straight ahead, schooling his face into an expressionless mask. He would appear to watch, but think of other things - like how he planned to kill the Smoker for raping his love, his little cub, his all.

He clenched and unclenched his fist. Maybe he could bleed out, here, now-- no. Dustin would need him after this. Hed need to be there for him. He snarled. "What if I take Dustin's place?" he said. "Hey, even better. You let me go, I'll do you right here. However you want it, Pyotor. Blowjob, assfuck. You want me to blow you? You know you do. Im better than anyone. Ill do you just right. I let you have me, you let me go." He nodded at Dustin. "I love him, you know?"

"Well ain't that sweet," said Pyotor. "Funny thing is, you don't have a choice, do you?" He moved behind the frame to which Alex was lashed, and seconds later Alex felt rough hands pulling his ass cheeks apart, and then wet fingers insinuating themselves into him. He closed his eyes and swore to himself that he would find a way to pay back each and every one of the people in this house for the agonies he was going through. In the other room, he could see Dustin writhing as the Smoker took his pleasure in him. Tears welled up in his eyes as he felt Pyotor's dick battering its way inside him.

Krycek swore, cursing himself. Well, that was just brilliant. He began trying to cut into his wrist again, looking away from the action in the next room until he remembered Pyotor's threats against Dustin if he didn't watch. He relaxed against Pyotor - he'd been raped before. Besides,, what could he do? - But Dustin. Hang on, lover. Hang on.

The Smoker thrust fiercely into Dustin. It wouldn't be long before he came. Dustin's ass felt so good on his cock as he slid in and out. He knew only Alex had ever fucked Dustin before, and this took his passion to new heights. Grunting, he came inside Dustin forcefully, but pulled out, so he could dribble his seed on Dustin's back and ass for all to see. Especially Krycek.

Cradling him in his arms, the Smoker crooned, "Oh, Dustin. Alex calls me his Daddy. Would you like me to be your Daddy, too?" Dustin craned his head to look at him as he continued. "Your Alex is quiet because Pyotor's in there with him now. I think you may have met Pyotor. After he's done with Alex, he'll want a turn with you, I think. Until then, we must give Alex something to think about." He picked up a cattle prod and touched it to Dustin's back.

Dustin had hung on grimly during the sexual assault, but the shock delivered by the device was fierce and not to be denied. Dustin gave a choking cry as all his muscles locked up solid and his body thrummed with agony. It felt as though he was on fire, and he couldn't prevent the scream that came forth, full throated. When finally he could speak again, he found himself begging to be freed, knowing that he wouldnt.

Spender stroked Dustin's back. "Sweet, sweet boy. Do you hate him now? If it weren't for him, you wouldn't be here. Go on, tell him you hate him for getting you mixed up in this. Tell him you want nothing more to do with him." Seeing hesitation, Spender brandished the cattle prod meaningfully, threatening to apply it to Dustin's nipples.

Closing his eyes against the pain that he knew would come, Dustin waited. When the shock didn't immediately shock him, and after a while he relaxed just enough to speak in short, breathy gasps. "I could tell you anything to stop the pain, but you know as well as I do that a confession extorted under duress is worth nothing. Let Alex go. He's suffered enough."

"Has he?" The Smoker applied the prod to Dustin's left nipple. "And just how do you know that, hmm?"

Krycek bucked, trying to loose Pyotor. The man was really thrusting into him, and he wanted him off, now. Krycek hurt -- his wrist because it was cut, his arm because it was held at a right angle to his chest, his ass from being fucked by Mr. Rambo dick, emphasis on the ram.

He cried out, a low, hollow moan, then raised his voice to scream at the Smoker. "Nooo. Please, I'll go to Cairo. Okay? I'll go. I swear I'll go. I'll get Habibi. Please, no more. Dont hurt him any more."

The monolithic jerk that was fucking Alex finally gasped out his completion. When Alex could no longer stand the tension, and was about to scream his lungs out just to avoid any further violation of either he or Dustin, the Smoker looked up and smiled.

"Alex, you don't know how happy I am to hear that. I'm so glad that you are willing to come home at last. We'll make plans for you to leave later today, but first, I want to show you something." He reached down to the floor beneath the bench that held Dustin stationary, and brought up a glass jar containing a black oily substance that seemed to move of its own accord.

"You remember what this is, don't you?" asked the old man, his face alight with unholy malice.

Alex gasped. "You know I do, old man."

"Good, good. What it does as well?" Spender's smile widened.

"Of course," Krycek spat. "I've had the pleasure."

"Not exactly, Alex." There was a knife-edge to Spender's smile. "This DNA prepares a human body to host a new grey. You've heard of this procedure, Im sure."

"I've seen the results, yes." Come on, you bastard, he thought. Get to the point.

"I anticipate that you would be distressed if Dustin here," as he spoke Dustin's name, the Smoker applied the prod to his back, making him arch and scream. "Became the incubator to a grey."

"No, Krycek snarled, scowling. You wouldn't. He's far too valuable to you as he is, you bastard." Alex knew that the Smoker wouldnt be able to hold Dustin over his head once a grey had him. The man didnt give his cards away.

"Oh, but I most certainly would, Alex, if you were to renege on our Habibi deal. I'll keep Dustin here so I can be assured that your conduct will be appropriate to my star operative. If you run, I will have no compunction about infecting your sweetheart." Voice turning venomous, the Smoker concluded, "Let him loose, Pyotor. Hell want to come and offer succor to our trainee here."

After Pyotor unceremoniously released his bonds, holding Alex to his side lest he fall to the ground. He was a little lightheaded, and that threw off his balance, causing him to stumble. Pyotor held him up and brought him to Dustin and Spender. Alex slumped against Dustin's side. "Baby, I'm so sorry."

Dustin leaned to rest his head against Alex's shoulder, and addressed the Smoker, contempt in his voice.

"You've got what you wanted from him. Do you think that he could get a little medical help now? Get these off me, and I'll do it." His anger flashed from his eyes. Turning to Alex, he kissed his face, and waited. He wanted so badly to hold Alex, comfort him, but bound as he was, he couldn't move.

Alex nuzzled Dustin, but he'd lost more blood than he realized, expended too much energy. "Oh, Dustin." he moaned, as consciousness left him. He sank to the floor in slow motion, and the last thing he saw was Pyotor's leering.

But Pyotors slap didn't wake him.

*flash*

"Rock a bye baby..."

Alexs mother was rocking him gently, cradling him in her loving arms.

"On the treetop..."

His mother was holding him, standing on a rocky ledge. Below, was the Smoker.

"When the wind blows, the cradle will fall..."

A breeze whipped up, and his mother struggled to keep her balance. She held him, but his weight increased her peril.

"Down will come baby, cradle, and all..."

Strong arms caught him when he fell, and he struggled, a strangled cry escaping his throat. "No." He smelled cigarette smoke, and heard his mother sobbing.

The smell of smoke became that of leather, and when Krycek opened his eyes, his head resting on his own knee and Pyotor was still leering at him.

The Smokers voice sounded, "I have several doctors on staff here." He smiled cruelly. "They'll be looking after Alex with ever loving care."

Alex could only see a shape, but he knew it was Dustin. They had hurt his love. Trying to stand, to lash out, Alex found that he couldn't even sit upright. His head throbbed as Pyotor jerked him back. "Wait for a stretcher, boy. We'll fix you up. You shouldn't have cut yourself..."

The Smoker smiled thinly at Dustin, before his eyes tracked to Krycek. "Tsk tsk, Alex. What will El Habibi say?" He smiled at Dustin again. "He's such a willful boy."

Slowly, the old man released Dustin's bonds, permitting him access to Alex. Pyotor showed signs of belligerence, but at a word from the Smoker, he gave ground, and Dustin took Alex in his arms, rocking him gently just like mom in the dream as he kissed his face.

"So where are all these fucking doctors? Bring 'em on!" Dustin yelled, angrier now than at any time he could remember. Turning back to his Alex, he held him close, and spoke softly to him. "It's okay, love. I have you now. It's over. It was only sex, and it's over. Don't worry about it."

How could he not worry about it? To hear Dustin speak words of love only drove home the guilt. Alex reached up with a blood-streaked hand to touch Dustins face. "He - he took you. He raped you. And you... you --." He broke off, as a sob of understanding shook him.

Dustin loved him. He'd taken the abuse, because he loved him. He wasn't worth it. He didn't deserve it. Yet it felt so good to be loved like that.

Alex stroked Dustin's cheek. I never wanted this for you, he thought, regretfully.

The Smoker lit a cigarette and pressed a call button. A couple of moments later two nurses arrived with a stretcher for Alex.

Alex didn't want to leave Dustin, but could find no strength to resist, Taking Dustin's hand in his own, he murmured, "I love you, Dustin. Don't leave me."

Scrambling to his feet, Dustin padded along beside the stretcher. He was still naked, sore in every muscle and tissue but disdained the fact as he clung to Alex's hand.

"You're okay, lover. Everything will be okay. Don't worry about me. I'm strong enough to take it. You just be strong with me."

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

Several days had passed, and Alex was no longer looking pinched and drawn. Dustin hadn't left his side since the incident with the Smoker; the two of them had spent every waking moment in anxious adoration, each of the other, in case something went fatally wrong on Alexs mission.

The Smoker summoned Alex in the evening of the third day, and when Alex arrived at the office shadowed by his lover, Dustin was refused entry by Pyotor. Rather than risk distressing Alex, Dustin took a seat outside the door as Alex met with Spender.

"Alex, I trust that you're feeling better? It's past time that you fulfilled your part in the bargain we made, my boy."

Alex swallowed. He knew it was inevitable, this moment. "Yes," he said weakly, resigned to his fate. Glancing at the door, he thought of Dustin -- the boy with the golden skin.

" I go to Cairo and meet Habibi. What is it exactly that you want from him?"

He shivered as he remembered Habibi's past abuse. God, let this be quick.

"Mr. El Habibi has been conducting some very interesting research into genetic markers, my boy. Currently he is rather reluctant to share his research, and has stipulated that he requires a bribe. You must have made quite an impression on him the last time you met, because the bribe hes demanding is you. I want you to bring him in - or deliver his research to me - I'm not worried which." The Smoker smiled at Alex, walking around the desk to fondle his hair. "Don't let me down, my boy. Dustin is depending on you."

Alex's stomach tightened at the Smokers words. "A bribe?" His mind raced. "If you give me to him, as a bribe, I may not come back." Alex wondered if he could steal the research, and do it quickly. Trying to recall the setup, he mused, "I could use Marita to get the research. John works in encryption and codes. Ill need that expertise, too."

The Smoker pondered for a few minutes, and then nodded.

"Ms. Covarrubias is going to be in the Middle East on an errand of her own for a week or so. I see no reason why she can't liaise with you while there. I do advise that you come back to me in the end, Alex. After all, what will happen to your Dustin, if you leave him alone with me?" He laid his hand on Alex's shoulder. "It doesn't bear thinking about, does it?" Smiling down on Alex, he added, "You have one hour. Use it wisely."

Alex stood, walking out of the office, his head spinning. An hour! An hour was a minute when all he could think of was Habibi. Then he remembered what Dustin had instructed -- live for the moment.

Dustin sat in the same chair, face strained.

Alex halted beside him. "Hey now you're not going to miss me too much, are you? I'm not gone yet, and I promise, I'll be a week or two at most."

"I want to go with you." Dustin sensed Alexs distress but was unwilling to pump him for information right then. "When do we go?" He stood, took Alex's prosthetic hand, and led him outside onto the grounds.

Alex stopped, pulling Dustin to him. For once, he was glad that he wasn't the one to say 'no'. Not that he would take Dustin if he could, despite how desperately he never wanted to leave this man's side. Alex would never subject Dustin to El Habibi. The thought of that man laying eyes or hands on Dustin was grotesquely obscene. "Not my decision, my love," he whispered. "But, no, you can't." Kissing Dustin, Alex silenced the protest he knew would come.

"I leave in an hour." His voice was soft, yet firm.

Dustin glanced sideways at Alex. No use then to repine. He would stay behind, and Alex would go. It hurt, but he had expected it. He would just have to make the best of what little time he had. A gleam of mischief appearing as he suddenly towed the other man off the path and into a thick growth of trees that lined the route.

"What the hell?" Further speech muffled by the application of warm, soft lips. For a minute Alex resisted, surprised, but then he pressed himself against Dustin, leaning back against a cherry tree as he permitted his lover to explore his mouth.

"Shhh! I'm gonna make love to you, and you're gonna come for me, and it's okay. He can't see us and you'll take it with you." Dustin kissed him again, his hands stroking all over Alex.

Alex responded fully, twining his tongue around his lover's, holding him close. "You're gonna." He ran his hands up Dustin's shirt. "Make me come? Make love to me?" He bit Dustin's ear. "I'll take it with me?" He bit his neck, grinning, and pulled Dustin closer. "Tell me about it, my love."

Dustin didn't speak, he just pulled away from his assault on Alex's mouth and dropped, smiling, to his knees, and fumbled open the fly of Alex's jeans, permitting his cock to spring loose. Something in Alex's face made him stop, and he watched dejectedly as Alex covered himself once more.

"What? Alex? You don't want me?" Slowly, he sank back onto his heels and half-knelt, half-sat, dejected. "Well, okay then. Go on alone if you've got to. No doubt you've got some really good reason, and what I need wont change anything."

"Dustin, what are you talking about?" Taking Dustin's shoulder in his hand, Alex assured, "I want you, Dustin. I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone or anything." He dropped to the ground, and held Dustin close. "But what I want and what I need are two different things right now. God, I need you!" He kissed Dustin's neck. "Don't think I don't want you. But I need to know you're taking this seriously. I... you're acting like a little boy, but we can't be little boys now." He kissed Dustin desperately. He'd promised Dustin two weeks, but who knew.

"But " Dustin leaned back and studied Alex's face. He could see that Alex was agitated, and suddenly he felt cold. This was real. This was happening and there was no way he could stop it. He hung his head, and leaned into Alex's embrace. "Okay, love. Tell me. Why I should be afraid."

Glancing around to make sure they were really alone, he pulled Dustin to him, nibbling his ear as he whispered fiercely. "El Habibi, the man I'm to bring back - he'll want to keep me as his pet. Apparently, the Smoker gave him leave to do so. Thank God Marita's going to be in the area; she can maybe help me. But... it may be more difficult than I thought. In some ways, El Habibi is worse than Sergei. I'm so nervous, little cub!" He kissed Dustin, trailing his lips along his neck, over to the other ear. "And beyond that, I gotta leave you here. I'll call you all I can. Marita, too."

Still drooping, Dustin clung tightly to his lover. "Can't I come with you? I could help and take care of you. Id stop this bastard if he tried to keep you." He breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of Alex's body, trying to imprint it into his memory against the moment when Alex would leave him here alone. "Please take me with you," he pleaded. "That guy in the club, you remember? He said that we were a perfect matched pair. This Habibi guy would love us."

Alex hissed. "That man in the club was Pyotor, the man with the ponytail. I should have killed him when I had the chance." He stroked Dustin's face. "Habibi would love you, and thats why I wont take you to him. Besides, the Smoker won't let you go, because it'll hurry me along. I can tell you, Marita has a very good source for black krait venom." He smiled a cruel smile. "Very fitting for Habibi."

"Fuck it! I knew it." Dustin was visibly miserable, his nose pink and his eyes bright as Alex held his face, preventing him from looking away. "I need to be with you. I can't tell you" It was too much. He closed his eyes against the pain that burned in them. He couldn't move, but he could stop the world from looking into his eyes and seeing that pain.

Alex pulled Dustin close again and held him. "I know. You dont have to explain; I feel the same." Alex licked at Dustin's neck. A man walked toward them, and Alex scowled. "Can't a guy spend a little time alone with his lover before he leaves?" The man snickered but kept going.

Alex stood up, dragging Dustin after him. "Deeper into the trees. Need you."

He followed Alex, not caring where he was being led. Everything had piled in on him and all Dustin could think of was how much he loved Alex. He missed him so much already that he was no longer able to think straight. Stumbling in Alex's wake, he felt unwanted tears coursing down his cheeks, and knew that Alex would see, and that he would think him stupid and weak.

"Alex, I " His voice broke, and as they came to a halt, Dustin sank down to his knees once more, his face hidden in his hands.

Alex put an arm around Dustin, holding him gently, kissing his cheek lightly. Was that salt? He licked at another tear. "Dustin... you ... Oh, my sweet baby." Holding Dustin tighter, laying his head on Dustin's shoulder, Alex decided it would be best to be quiet, and let his love speak when he was ready.

Dustin could only cling tightly to Alex, trying to compose himself enough so that he could send Alex off unworried. Each time he felt the tears starting to recede, the feel of Alex wrapped around him made him start to sob anew. Finally, he spoke. "I wanted to stay strong for you. I wanted to be brave. I didn't want you to see" Heart pounding, Dustin took a gulping breath before he continued, "Love me, please. Make me feel safe again.

Alex looked at Dustin, need for love in his eyes as well. "That's kinda funny, 'cause I feel the same way about you." Pulling Dustin in with his prosthetic arm, he caressed his back with the other. "Dustin... oh, sweet Dustin. I wish we could just stay here forever." But they couldn't. The image of the oilien floated foremost in his brain. Alex was thankful that Dustin didn't understand the implications.

Dustin didn't know how much longer they had. He only knew that his lover was going to leave him behind. He moaned, raising his hands to run them through Alex's hair, attempting to imprint the feel of his lover's head. His lips brushed Alex's face, mapping the high cheekbones, tracing the thick lashes and the slight indent at the top of his nose that creased whenever he was stressed.

"Don't let me go, Alex. I need you to hold me."

Alex hugged Dustin fiercely. "Baby... baby." He knew he had to leave him with the Smoker, of all people! Fuck. He was damned either way. He pulled Dustin's face to his, kissing him softly.

*Flash* Two teenage boys, on a riverbank in Tunguska, one offering the other a drink.

Swaying, Alex fought against the visions.

*Flash* "You have betrayed your best friend. Your lover."

What was happening? He clung to Dustin, to reality. Alex's lips trembled, and he clutched at Dustin.

"Hold you? I don't know if I'll ever be able to let you go." Dustin had been gazing into Alex's eyes, trying somehow to see beneath the stern control that Alex was projecting. A moment of strangeness had shadowed the beautiful green eyes, and Dustin wondered what that might signify, but as it passed, he noted the love that shone from Alex's face, and his own eyes closed as he kissed Alex's lips before burying his face into Alex's neck.

"Promise me that well be together again soon. Promise me, please." Dustin spoke softly, but the longing was so strong that his body shook with it.

Alex couldn't speak until he took a ragged breath. "I promise you. We'll be together soon. We will." He hugged Dustin so hard he thought he might break him. "My love, my sweet love." He buried his face in Dustin's hair, licking, memorizing the taste and texture of his lover. He ran his hand over Dustins back, sighing. A tear rolled down his cheek as he contemplated the fact that he didn't know whether or not he could keep his promise. But he couldn't take it back. "Love you so much."

Holding onto Alex until his arms felt leaden with fatigue, Dustin couldn't think of anything to say that hadn't been said, and went back to mapping the body of his lover. His hands traveled the length of Alex's spine to cup the curve of his buttocks, and his mouth roved over the graceful arch of Alex's throat. He wanted to be able to hug the memory when he was alone. Softly, he whispered his love in return, and then, "If you don't come back to me, I'll die."

"Don't say that, Dustin! If you say that, I might not be able to go, and the Smoker will kill you for sure." His voice choked in his throat. "Don't ever say that, baby."

*Flash* A ten year old boy on a table in Tunguska; Sergei setting some of the black oil on his body. A low howl from both the boy on the table and an older boy, in the corner, held to watch by a leering man -- a man with a cigarette.

No!

"I... I'll come back to you," Alex vowed again. One way or another. "Just don't you die before I do, baby." He took out the knife the Smoker had returned to him. It was the one he'd used on Pyotor at the club.

"Take this. May it keep you safe while I'm gone, my love."

Dustin held the knife in his hand, and studied it, recalling the times when he'd seen Alex with it. It was a long, slender bladed knife, with the balance well down the handle. The edge was keen, the point wicked. He suddenly smiled at Alex, stabbing the point into the palm of his left hand, holding it up to Alex as the blood dripped from the wound.

In a fluid motion, Alex wordlessly took the knife back, and sliced open his right palm. He reached out for Dustin's left hand, and raised their clasped hands to his lips. "I love you... blood brother, blood lover. My soul." He looked into Dustin's eyes. "Don't let them break you, Dustin. Don't let them take you." Trying to anticipate the Smokers strategies, Alex murmured, "Whatever he says, I would never give you over to him, or the Consortium."

Dropping his mouth to their mingled blood, Dustin pressed his lips to the physical manifestation of their declaration of love, stuck out a pink tongue to lap, and then, lips red, offered them to Alex, willing him to accept the kiss.

Alex took Dustin's face in his hand, tasting the bitter, thick salty blood on his lips, lapping greedily at the lips that were offered. Taking Dustin's hand, he licked that, too before leaning in for another kiss. He offered Dustin more of their blood, delving into his mouth as if to place a drop on every tooth. Alex never wanted the kiss to end.

When they finally broke apart, panting slightly, Dustin saw Alexs shining eyes, over bright and loving. All he'd ever wanted was his, here in his arms, but for only this moment. In less than hour, he would be gone, perhaps forever. He held onto Alex, and tried to express what he was feeling.

"Alex? Love me. Love me as though Im someone you care for, and not just someone that you can dominate. Make me feel special, Alex, please."

"I... I care for you so much, Dustin." Alex looked at him. "You are special. I've never loved anyone like I love you. Never. With you --when I dominate you -- I feel guilty after sometimes. Never with anyone else." He bit his lip. "Why dont you show me, Dustin? Help me love you like you want. I... I'll try, but... Ive loved you the only way I know, he thought, sadly.

He reached for Dustin, to kiss him again. " I dont know..." he murmured.

The mouth that melded itself to his made Dustin's heart race. His hands worked to open Alex's shirt so that he could slide his hands over smooth skin. He pulled Alex to him, feeling the strength of his body pressed against him.

"You're doing fine, my love. Better than fine. Anything that you want is fine with me, if you touch me tenderly. Make me believe that I'm precious, and that I'm worthy of you."

Alex smoothed Dustin's shirt, then lifted it over and off his body. He leaned in to lick gently at Dustin's nipples, suckling first one, then the other. They were slick and sweet in his mouth. Rolling his tongue around them, he took time to feel every bump and dip. He licked his way up the broad chest, to Dustins neck, and then back down. Tenderly, he encouraged Dustin to lay on the ground, straddling him in a 69 position as he licked Dustin's taut, firm abs. He nipped, just gently, and kneaded Dustin's strong thighs through his jeans.

Reaching up to knead Alex's buttocks, Dustins lips found the small indentation that was Alex's navel, and pressed his tongue in as he strove to taste, to tease, and to love. Hearing a small gasp, he trailed his tongue lower, his cheek finding the swell of Alex's sudden interest within the soft and faded denim of his jeans. Hands stroking around to unfasten Alex's jeans, Dustin ran his fingers along Alexs inner thighs.

Alex groaned as Dustin undid his jeans, and returned the favor. Dustins tongue was soft silk on Alex's body, and he moaned pleasurably as Dustin licked him and tormented the flesh of his thighs. Alex moved his hand under the waistband of Dustin's boxers and caressed the soft thatch of hair there. He put his nose to it, sniffing the musky odor. After satisfying his nose, Alex mouthed Dustins cock through the boxers, then moved to his lovers navel, sucking and nipping little love bites across his belly.

"Come on, love of mine." Dustin pushed the jeans that were impeding his access to the flesh of his lover until they slipped over Alex's thighs, revealing the white briefs that he wore. Pulling down on Alex's hips so that he could reach the swelling that denoted Alex's erection, he began to suck at it through the soft cotton interlock that covered it. "Yeah, let me be loved by you. Alex, nobody but you.

Alex sighed. "Yeah? Ooh, Dustin!" His cock twitched under Dustin's ministrations, and he mouthed Dustin more firmly after kissing a trail down from his navel. Tugging the boxers down, he took Dustin's cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the crown. His precome tasted so damn good; he'd never get enough. Holding himself back from going for Dustin's sweet rosebud, he contented himself to suck and lick at Dustin's root, smiling against the warm musky skin.

Waves of bitter-sweet desire washed over Dustin. Alex was here, touching him the way that he craved, and yet he feared somehow that it was the last time they would see each other. He'd saturated the cotton briefs his lover wore with saliva, and now he attempted to reach beneath them, pulling and tearing until Alex's cock sprang free for him.

He paused, holding Alex's hips still for a second or two before opening his mouth to swallow his lover as deeply as he could, feeling the jolt to his own groin as Alex reciprocated.

Alex took Dustin deep. He wanted this to be special -- something Dustin wouldn't forget. Cupping Dustin's balls, he fondled them as he moved his left hand over Dustin's thighs. Dustin's mouth on his cock felt incredible, and he hummed his pleasure to tell him so.

Was this the last time they would have together? It felt that way, and yet he *knew* he'd never leave Dustin behind again. Just let him finish this job, and then... Yeah, right. As *if* Spender would ever release him. Dustin was nave, but in a way that Alex longed to be.

He sucked at Dustin as though he might swallow a bit of purity, or naivete, from him and regain it. "Love you... God!" he murmured as he came up for air before falling onto Dustin's cock again.

"Never forget me; never let me go." Dustin's husky voice stroked over Alex's ears just prior to a redoubling of his efforts, sucking at Alex. Pausing to track his tongue over the delicious morsel, Dustin lapped at the sensitive underside of the mushroom-like head, and drove it as deep as he could into the slit on the top.

He wanted to taste all of Alex. Toward that end, Dustin nipped the white columns of his thighs, swirled his tongue around the rapidly crinkling balls, and, at last, sucked his penis in once more until the head was striking against the back of his throat. He swallowed grimly, and prayed that he would be able to do this, and not gag.

Alex gasped as Dustin deep throated him, warm and hot on his cock. As sensation shot through him, he dragged his tongue over Dustin's cock and balls, and nipped at Dustin's thigh. This felt good, but he wanted... Rolling over, Alex pulled out of Dustin's mouth. He scooted around, and wrapped his arms around Dustins shoulders. "Dustin, will you hold me? You made me feel really good, but... is it okay if we just. cuddle a while?"

Dustin was stunned. When he felt Alex's arms go around him, he turned to seek out Alex's mouth. How had Alex known? Clinging to him, feeling almost childlike in his desperate need for reassurance, he clutched Alex, trying to plaster every part of himself against the man in his arms.

Alex crushed Dustin to him. "Oh, Dustin, my love. It kills me to have to leave you." He buried his face in Dustin's neck again. When he fell asleep at night, half a world away, this was what he would think of, and feel - his little cub, holding him tight. But what about Dustin? Who would keep him safe? "My sweet one, keep the knife with you... always."

Dustin felt his eyes prickle. Nodding, he held the firm buttocks tight, bucking against his soon to be departed love. As he moved, the sweet tendrils of lust curled in his groin, and he ran his lips over Alex's chin, feeling the rasp of whisker as he licked and sucked on the long, elegant throat.

"I will. I promise. When you come back, I'll give it to you."

"All right, my love." Alex arched into Dustin. "I wish I could stay with you. But since I can't, hang onto it." The knife had been given to him by a -- by someone close to him, and hed carried it ever since. "It will keep you safe. Oh, love, sweet love..."

Dustin writhed against Alex's bare midriff, making little, breathy panting noises as he came against the slippery skin of his lover. He gasped as a wave of pleasure swept over him, and felt himself melt as his balls contracted, spilling their juice across Alex's skin. Shaking his head from side to side, he shuddered out his joy, and then lay panting against Alex.

Alex ran his hand down Dustin's side, appreciating the soft, satin, supple skin. After the shivers of his lover coming subsided, he slid his hand to Dustin's cock, taking up as much jism as he could, and bringing it to his lips, savoring the taste, and rubbed the remainder into Dustin's skin. "Oh, sweet." Suddenly he bucked, and came against Dustin's thigh, smiling at him as he leaned his head on his shoulder. "Love you. You taste so good."

They lay, wrapped up in each other, sharing kiss after kiss. Dustin couldn't think of anything to say to his lover that wouldn't make him feel bad, and the last thing he wanted. At last, Dustin sat, and took up the knife hed just been given. Reaching down to his groin, he severed a small tuft of his pubic hair, and held it out to Alex.

"Want this to remember me by?" He waited, wondering if Alex would take it or laugh at him.

Alex took the hairs reverently, rolling them between his fingertips, sniffing their musk. "Thank you, baby." He wondered where he was going to put them so he wouldnt lose them. Patting his jeans pockets, he found a piece of paper. He took it out and folded the hairs inside before placing it back into his pocket.

Checking the time, Dustin saw that there were only seven minutes remaining of their precious hour.

"I love you, Alex." He struggled to his feet and began to pull up his jeans. "It's nearly time. Should we get back?"

Alex nodded, getting to his feet after doing up his jeans. "Yeah, I should get my things together." He took Dustin's hand, helping him up and kissing him deeply before pulling him after him, toward the room they'd been sharing. When they arrived, the Smoker was there, sitting on the bed, glancing pointedly at his watch.

Saying nothing at all to the intruder, Dustin reached for Alex's few items of clothing, and began to pile them onto the bed. As the Smoker sat, smiling his superior smile, Dustin helped Alex gather his possessions. The small pile on the coverlet didn't amount to much, and noting that they had a couple of minutes to spare, Dustin took Alex's hands, standing toe-to-toe to share one last kiss.

"I hope that you're about ready, Alex. I would hate to be forced to administer correction to either you or your lover." The dry voice of the Smoker broke in, crackling like fallen leaves as he brought them back down to earth.

Alex glared at the Smoker, holding Dustin close.

"Two minutes, old man." He kissed Dustin as if he might be trying to meld his soul, his self, to the other man's. "Dustin... oh God. Remember all I told you, lover." Turning Dustin towards the Smoker, he said, "Don't you dare hurt him while I'm gone. He's innocent.. You think you can kill everything good -- I know that's why you hate this. We love each other, and you can't have that. So you tried to kill it, and you couldn't do that, either. Love is the one thing you cant kill."

The Cancerman didn't lose his smile. He nodded gently.

"Of course it is, my boy. That's what makes you so delightfully controllable at the moment. I'll take good care of your boyfriend while you're away. I assure you that he will lack for nothing. Come. The plane is waiting to whisk you away to the Arabian Nights." He indicated a holdall that had lain, hitherto unnoticed. As Alex and Dustin scooped Alex's clothing and effects into it, he swept out of the room and held the door for Alex to follow.

As Dustin fell in behind, Pyotor, who had been lounging behind the door, put out a hand to bar his progress, grunting," Not you."

Alex hissed an order at Pyotor. "Don't touch him." He looked back at Dustin, once, calling, "I love you!" before he turned the corner with the Smoker.

Dustin stopped, and stood watching Alex until he was out of sight.

After they left, Pyotor smiled, putting his arms around Dustin from behind. "Come here, sweetie. I never got to have you before. The Smoker promised me I could." He ran a hand down Dustin's back. "I got things I gotta do, pretty boy. But I'll be back." He pulled Dustin around to face him. "Or do I? I've been with your boyfriend these past few days. Did he tell you how I made him scream the first time I took him? Such an exciting sound, Alex Krycek begging for mercy. Your scream will be louder, sweet cheeks. He was your first, wasn't he? I'll be your last."

Dustin breathed deeply. So it begins, he thought. I haven't had a minute to mourn his leaving, and already this bastard is tormenting me. He reached into his pocket to fondle the knife that Alex had given him.

"Get away from my room." Dustin put his feelings of fury into the words. Pyotor stood, looking at him, so Dustin clenched his fists, thinking through the exercises that Marita had taught him.

Pyotor smiled, bringing Dustin toward him with the arm hed draped across his shoulders. Leaning in, he kissed Dustin's mouth. "All right, baby. But I won't be far."

Coughing and spitting, Dustin wondered how he was going to cope with the huge, unpleasant man who'd stated his intention to rape him. He stroked his knife again, and wondered what Alex would do in his place.

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

Karl Mackey walked down the hall to Dustin's room. He knew he had to go to LA, the Smoker had ordered him back there, but he dreaded leaving Dustin here. Of course, he was proof that the Smoker didn't always torment his "guests" the whole time they were there, but Dustin was so like Alex. Karl didn't think that the Smoker held but didnt torture Alex in some way

Reaching Dustin's room, Karl stood there for a moment.

"Dustin, he's sending me back to LA. I - - I'm sorry. I asked him to let me stay, but he says I'm needed out there. As if I can concentrate now!" Impulsively, Mackey ran to Dustin, and held him, because he looked like his love, and his love - Dustin's love too, was far away, or would be, soon.

"Dustin, I wish I could stay -- bring him back." Mackey began to cry, his tears falling on Dustin's shirt. "I... Dustin." He pulled back. "Does the Smoker have your cell phone? If he does, get it back. I'll call you, and I know Alex will, too. God, I miss him."

"God, Karl. How did we get here? I never wanted to hurt anyone. I'm so sorry." Dustin held onto Karl's body, responding to the odd familiarity that Karl embodied. "I know you love him. I wish that everything could be different, better. You and I will be together again when he comes back, and this I promise you, the three of us will love each other, even if it's only once." He stroked Karl's whiskery face, and finally kissed him, gently and sweetly, before letting him go.

"Thank you. You have no idea how good that is to hear. I need him, need you, too. Need you both so badly." He stepped back, tearing inside, but slipping back into his professional self.

"I -- I'll put you right back on 'See No Evil' -- hold it for you, even if its the best chance we have with the network next season." He paused. "I'll put Minnow on 'Next Wave' instead. Hell develop that in your absence, but it will suffer without you."

"Karl" Dustin's husky voice was uncharacteristically soft. "I have to tell you about Minnow." He held Karl's shoulders as he spoke, willing Mackey to understand somehow without making him say it. Dustin searched Karls face for some time, hoping. Finally, he sighed, and shook his head. "Minnow's dead, Karl. Alex killed him."

"Alex killed... Why, Dustin?" He racked his brain. Minnow had no ties to the Consortium, or their plans. Did he? "Two of my star employees gone. Shit." Karl laughed nervously. "What am I gonna do?" Absurdly, he began to laugh, leaning on Dustin with each new bubble of laughter that burst forth from him, unstoppable. The harder he tried to stop laughing, the harder he laughed. "I'm sorry."

Dustin held him, bemused. This was the last reaction he'd imagined from Karl. He tried to think how Alex would handle this particular conversation, before speaking again.

"Alex killed him for me. Depend real hard on Jarred, ok?" He watched Mackey's face, waiting for some kind of cue as to how the message had been received.

Mackey got his laughter under control. "Jarred? Minnow's dead, and you want me to -- Jarred. What should I tell him about you? He'll ask." Chasing the thoughts that ran around in his brain, Mackey asked, "Why... why'd you guys kill Minnow?"

"Hey. Alex killed him. I hadn't met Alex at that point. How should I know why?" Dustin shrank inwardly as he waited for Karl to rail at him, to point his finger and tell him that he had murdered Minnow - in spirit, if not in fact. He knew that if everyone paid their dues, that the blame for Minnow's death would rest on his shoulders.

Mackey looked away. "You're lying, Dustin. About what, I don't know, but just because circumstances are different, everything hasnt changed." He sat beside Dustin. "You were going downhill, at work and also in your personal life. Jarred... Jarred had come to me a couple of times, saying he was worried about you, and then I saw Darcy out with Minnow. Dustin, what was that all about?"

Mackey had to ask these questions to reestablish a boss/subordinate relationship for Globe.

"I'm not lying, Karl. Alex killed Minnow. I wanted him dead, and Alex made it happen. If you really want to know all the whys and wherefores, I'll tell you, but honestly, there's no point." Dustin slumped. "God, I miss Alex already. Do you think I'll ever see him again?" He fell silent, his body language signaling complete desolation.

Mackey put an arm around Dustin's shoulders. "He's always come home." He kissed his cheek. "But I know what you're feeling. Felt it myself often enough." God, had he? But usually it wasn't like this -- usually it was a simple job. This one wasnt. "You'll see him again. I'm sure of it."

Dustin smiled at his boss, the first time he could ever recall a time when a smile for Karl had come spontaneously to him. "Thank you, Karl, " he whispered. "I know that you love him too, and I'm sorry, more sorry than I can say."

"Me, too, Dustin. And for you. I'm glad you two found each other." He swallowed hard, still feeling a twinge of jealousy, but it was obvious that they belonged together. "Should I tell Jarred and Suzanne and anyone else, that, um, you're visiting sick family, or something?" Mackey stood, moving toward the door, but still holding Dustin's hand gently as Dustin went to see him out. "I suppose, in a way, that's no fish story." Saying that brought Minnow to mind, and he had to stifle another paroxysm of laughter.

The connection wasnt lost on Dustin either. "Fuck you, Karl! You're just begging me to beat you, aren't you?" Dustin couldn't resist a mild snicker as he wondered how much truth was contained within that statement. "Tell Jarred that I'll see him soon, but that I have to stay here to er protect my investment." He laid a last kiss on Mackey's lips, and turned away, wishing for privacy before the tears started.

Mackey nodded, releasing his hand. "I... I hope to see you soon, Dustin." Barely containing his tears, he turned and left the room for his own, to pack. As he did, he realized he wouldn't feel right unless he talked to Dustin about one more thing, begged punishment for it. Then he could go back to LA. He'd hurt his love, and maybe contributed to his regression. It weighed heavily on him.

Stepping back into Dustin's room, Karl hung his head as he said, "Dustin, there's something... something I have to tell you."

Dustin had sunk down on the bed, his head in his hands. As Karl returned to stand before him, he raised sad eyes and waited. Why couldn't Karl see that he needed to be alone?

"Go on, Karl. Tell me."

"I... I hurt Alex, Dustin. I can't get over it. I know we said I had to act like I was going to hurt him, but I did and god help me, a part of me enjoyed it. It was like I was outside myself, and I wanted to throw up, but, oh god oh god. I... I fucked him, Dustin. While he thought he was a teenager and the Smoker had him tied down." Mackey sank to his knees before Dustin.

"I'm a bad man, Dustin. How could I do that to him? How can I ever face him again? Or... or you? I know you love him, but I thought he'd always be mine. He's not and that's why." He began to cry, great sobs wracking his body. "So sorry, Dustin. Hurt me, please?"

"I know what you did." Dustin's voice was bleak, and his eyes looked through Karl to images he wouldnt be able to forget. "He showed me the movie. He thought I ought to get a kick out of it." Focusing on Karl for a brief moment, Dustin asked, "Why do they hate him so much? I don't understand. You hate him too, don't you?"

"I love him!" Karl sobbed. "How could I hate him? He's sweet. He - they - he's... he never did anything. Don't let them tell you he did. His parents gave him to the Smoker when he was seven, and he used and hurt him. Thought he was pretty so he could tempt men to... Don't you see? They're killing him slowly. And he... never asked for any of it. The Smoker's a sick man, Dustin. He took a sweet boy and -- I love him so much. More than you know. When I met him... He broke down, crying heavily again, barely managing to say, "He needs someone who'll really love him. I thought it was me, but... it's you. Don't hurt him, please."

Dustin sat, shaking his head. The thought of his lover as a frightened child given over as a sexual plaything to thugs such as Pyotor made his blood run cold.

"He'll never have to suffer any of this-do any of it -- again," hissed Dustin. "When we get out of here, he's going to be free." His face suddenly full of anger, he demanded, "Help me, Karl. Help me rescue him. I can't do it on my own. I need your help. Swear to me that you'll help me - help him."

"I'll do all I can -- whatever I can," Karl promised, his hand on Dustin's knee. "We've got to help him. El Habibi... He sniffled and dropped what hed been about to say. "He was so frightened of that man. I've never seen him so frightened."

"We'll get him out," said Dustin, with a strength in his voice that he was very far from feeling . "Go home and keep the studio going, Karl. I'll be fine. Once he's home, we'll spring him. But, tell me this -- what is it about this Arab guy that makes Alex so afraid?"

Dustin turned away from Mackey, half praying that he would ignore his question and leave him be. If only he didn't need the information.

Karl stood. "Thank you, Dustin. So you don't hate me? I... I'm not sure about El Habibi; Alex wouldn't discuss it. There are a few things Alex won't talk about."

"Hate? I don't think I can hate anyone else until that smoking bastard is dead and buried. No, Karl, I don't hate you." He wheeled to face the man, anger setting his face ablaze. "I swear that he'll be free. I swear it."

Karl stepped back instinctively, though he knew Dustin's anger was mostly, at least, not directed at him. "I pray that you can. I... I'll be ... in touch."

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

The cigarette smoke seemed to have a will of its own, drifting and curling around Alex, no matter how much he tried to avoid it. It was a relief when the car drew up at the airport entrance, enabling him to escape the claustrophobic confines of the car. The Smoker followed him into the terminal, and together they went to the check in desk.

A knot of fear curled in his belly and Alex could no longer ignore it. "You know what El Habibi wants to do to me, don't you?"

"Why don't you tell me, Alex?" The foul old man sounded as though he were Alex's indulgent uncle. "We'll see if there's anything that we can do to assist you." He was urbane and smiling as he placed his arm solicitously around Alex's shoulders.

Alex shied away, throwing off the Smoker's arm. "You know what he wants. You know because he told you. I was there. How could you allow this?" His voice shifted to a higher pitch, and he stepped close again. "Aren't I still your good boy, Daddy?"

The Smoker paused and his good humor slipped briefly, leaving his eyes dead and snake-like.

"You must understand, Alex, my boy, that your marketable skills are rapidly reaching their sell-by date. You're getting old, my pretty slave, and once you are, what use will you be to me? If El Habibi likes you, maybe I should allow him to purchase you. After all, I have Dustin now." Having said that, he replaced his arm around Alex in a very pointed fashion.

"Dustin? No!" Alex's eyes were full of fury. "You wouldn't," he hissed. "He's... he's my age, pretty much. I know you're not famous for keeping promises, but please... please. I'll let Habibi take me. Just don't hurt Dustin. His only crime was loving me, and it's my fault he's where he is now. I never should have loved him, but I did." He jerked away from the Smoker. "You're a sick man. Have I ever told you that?" A lady in the check-in line looked at the Smoker, arching a brow as much at his lit cigarette as at the younger man's words and actions.

"Such disrespect to someone you hope will do you a favor. I think that you should study your behavior before you arrive in Cairo, Alex. If you are as insolent to El Habibi as you are to me, he'll very likely take extreme measures. I have heard that he cut the tongue out of one of his catamites, because the fellow said things that displeased him." The Smoker made a lewd gesture, and the check-in agent blinked, not quite sure if she'd heard correctly. "It would be such a pity for you to lose your tongue. It's one of your best features."

Krycek's eyes darkened. "You only wish, old man."

The Smoker frowned. "For that, Alex, I will permit Pyotor to visit Dustin tonight."

Alex looked at the Smoker. "You think Dustin will permit it? He's a strong boy." But he couldn't help his low moan as the Smoker's gaze darkened further.. "No, please, I'm sorry. Don't. He doesn't deserve it." Others were looking at them, but Alex didnt care. He embraced the Smoker, kissing his cheek. "Please, Daddy, don't."

Presenting their passports and tickets to the agent behind the desk, Spender paid no attention to Alex, merely reaching for their boarding cards admitting them to the first class lounge.

As they made their way toward the lounge, the Smoker hustled Alex into a restroom and turned to face him.

"Let's see how talented that tongue remains, Alex, if you wish to keep it."

Krycek dropped to his knees. "Yes, Daddy." He opened the Smoker's trousers, and withdrew his soft , wrinkly cock. Taking the disgusting, hairy, pink thing into his mouth, Alex began sucking, working it with his tongue. He put his hands on the Smoker's hips and braced himself before taking the man deep.

A stocky, well-dressed man with a beard walked in, a copy of the Wall Street Journal under his arm. He seemed about to leave hurriedly, when a look from the Smoker caused him to lean against the wall, watching the handsome young man servicing the older one. "Nice," he said, approvingly.

The Smoker smiled, and gasped as he came into Alex's mouth. He casually pushed Alex away and readjusted his clothing, but kept one hand pressed on a shoulder to keep Alex on his knees.

"Would you care for relief? He really is remarkably talented." The old man gestured for Alex to comply.

The businessman nodded, eagerly. "May I? Hes so handsome..." When the Smoker didnt object, he came over and stood before Alex, caressing his hair. "Such pretty eyes. What's your name, boy?"

Alex shivered, but made no move to avoid him. He lowered his eyes. "Alexei," he said in a thin voice.

The man put a hand on his shoulder. "Alexei, please..."

He felt as though no one had ever said please to him before. He rested his head on the man's thigh, flicking his tongue out to catch the man's zipper, and jerked it down with his teeth, as Sergei had taught him.

The man smiled. "Oh, Alexei..."

Krycek took the businessman in his mouth, working his lips and tongue over his fat cock.

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

The plane ride was actually a relief. The flight to Cairo was long enough for Alex to sleep, and the Smoker ignored him once they had boarded, occupying himself with his laptop on which he tapped out countless email messages. When they arrived, the Smoker was annoyed.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to accompany you further. El Habibi has gone on to Tunisia. You will need to follow. He has sent a jet for you. I have to remain here, which desolates me, but I'm sure that you'll be a good boy. I'll tell Dustin all about our journey together once I return to Washington."

"What will you tell him?" Krycek hissed. "That you made me you suck off, and then a total stranger? Oh, that will endear you to him. And don't forget the part about giving me to a man who wants to cut my balls off. Hell love you forever after."

A wrinkled hand shot out, and backhanded Alex across the face. As he sat, dazed, a trickle of blood dribbled from one corner of his mouth.

"Such a pity that you're losing your looks, Alex. Such a terrible shame." After deplaning, Alex was ushered into the airport and handed over to El Habibi's security guards.

Krycek scowled. He knew he was still pretty. He was! If he weren't, Habibi wouldn't want him. Then hope swelled. Maybe he wouldn't when he saw him. Krycek shook his head as two men in Arab robes took hold of him, thinking of Habibi's admonishments. Alexei, what have I told you about staying out of the sun? Your skin may not wrinkle now, but when you're older.

I'll take my leave of you now, my boy." The old man fondled Alex's face and then turned to leave, calling back over his shoulder as he went. "Ms. Covarrubias will be with you in three days. I'm sure you'll keep yourself amused between now and then.

A moment later, he'd gone, swallowed up by the crowds, leaving Alex alone with the guards.

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

Pyotor hung up the phone, smiling. He had actually been asked to work over Dustin! He took the stairs two at a time, slowing as he neared Dustin's room. He wanted this to last. Stepping into the darkened room, he could see the mans shape under the covers -- the arrogant hotshot producer who thought he was better than everyone else.

Crossing the room, he took Dustin's shoulder, shaking it. "Wake up pretty boy. I gotta talk to you."

Dustin had been dreaming. Sleep hadn't come easy to him that evening, but he was now in the throes of a disturbing dream where danger pressed in around him while he waited, unable to run and knowing that it was only a matter of time before the menace became reality.

As Pyotor shook him awake he sat bolt upright, disoriented and convinced that he was at home. When he saw who the intruder was, his heart sank. "What do you want?" he asked.

"The Master has a message for you," Pyotor sneered, foul breath close in Dustin's ear. "Your boyfriend was rude to him on the plane to Cairo. Talking back to him, giving lip."

He ran a hand down Dustin's back. "I can't wait to take you, my sweet, sweet boy. Oh! Do you know how much pleasure it gave me to fuck Alex, as he struggled and cried? The Master would never let me have him when he was a young boy. But now, when he becomes the child, the Master lets me at him."

He snickered, fetid breath rushing out. "He let me punish your Alex. As a teenager -- real or imagined. Do you know how it felt to have Alex begging, pleading to be let go, not knowing how to avoid being hurt?"

He stroked Dustin's chest. "Learned helplessness, Dustin." Pyotor unzipped his own pants. "Alex has lost some of the fire I see in you. I want some of that back."

"Oh, really?" Dustin whispered, shrinking back against the pillow. After a moment, he relaxed visibly. "I guess that you're too ugly to get yourself a date. You have to have people restrained to get any sex. Go away. All this posturing and posing is making me tired, and I really want to sleep." Dustin turned onto his side, yawning ostentatiously. "Close the door on your way out, would ya?"

Pyotor undressed, and snuggled in behind Dustin. "Maybe you didn't hear me, baby. The Master gave you to me for the night." He pulled Dustin's head around and back, cradling it with his hands. Swooping down for a kiss, his mouth dwarfed Dustin's as he insinuated his tongue past Dustin's teeth.

"I have a message for you, from Alex. Now, what was it?" He pulled back, putting his fingers to his chin in mock thought. "Oh, yes. He was so insolent to the Master that he dragged him into a bathroom en route to the first class lounge to teach him a lesson. Made Alex swallow his cock, and a total stranger's, as well. There was one other thing -- the reason he was so afraid to go to Egypt." He paused for effect, clutching Dustin's earlobe between his teeth. "El Habibi's gonna cut your boyfriend's nuts off, so's he'll behave. The Smoker wanted me to tell you that."

Messages delivered, Pyotor slid his hands around Dustin's waist, cupping his crotch, kneading it through his pajama pants. "Nice... nice." He pressed his crotch against Dustin's ass, undoing Dustins pants, working them down, pushing Dustin to his stomach with a huge hand. "Ill be the best you ever had. Better even than Alex. Youll really enjoy this, baby." He smiled, his hands now busy under Dustin's shirt.

For a moment, Dustin lay still, collecting his thoughts. The big oaf was determined. He'd known that this would come, if not tonight, then tomorrow, or the next day. If he were to get through it without injury, he would need to keep all his wits about him. He relaxed against Pyotor, neither fighting nor assisting the huge man as he groped beneath his pajamas.

His contemptuous words, however, were a different matter. "You think I'm going to be easy meat? That you can fuck me? maybe, but Ill come after you some day. Then youll be sorry."

"No, I'll be turned on," Pyotor hissed, parting Dustin's thighs with a knee. He put the tip of this fat cock on Dustin's rosebud. "You're so tight. I'm going to love coming inside of you. My cock's harder than I've ever felt it. I love your fire, boy." He licked at Dustin's neck.

Holding Dustin's shoulders, Pyotor grunted as he hefted himself up, pushed forward, and shoved his achingly hard cock into Dustin, as far as he could. He held the position, driven in deep. "So full of fire you don't struggle," he noted. "Alex could be like that. Not since he met you, though. He's been resisting a lot more, rebelling. Youre gonna to keep him in line."

"Me? Keep Alex in line?" scoffed Dustin. The penetration had been agony, but it was necessary. Dustin slipped his right hand under the pillow and took hold of the knife that Alex had given him.

Pyotor would relax, if he believed that Dustin wasn't going to fight. Then he'd get carried away by lust, and that was what Dustin wanted. Once the disgusting thug was well and truly involved in his act of rape Dustin would be able to strike and stand a chance of succeeding. He caught his breath in a moan of pain, and clenched his teeth.

"That's it, baby," Pyotor said, wrapping an arm around Dustin's chest. "Moan. Let me hear you." He pulled Dustin's head around for another kiss. "Ah, my stoic one. Keep Alex in line so's they won't cut his nuts off. The Master will let you call him tomorrow." He bit Dustin's shoulder, beginning to thrust furiously into Dustin's ass. It wouldn't be long now. "Oh, yeah," he chanted. "Oh, yeah, oh, yeah..."

The pain was intolerable. Tears were forced from Dustins eyes, and he suddenly knew that there was never going to be a better time. He slid the knife from beneath the pillow, reached down between his legs, and slashed at the other man's groin, sawing, regardless of the danger to his own genitalia, until he was free.

There was blood. There was so much blood that he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep in that bed again. Expelling the lump of flesh from himself, he turned to Pyotor.

"Die, you fucker. Die like the sorry piece of shit you are."

Howling in pain, Pyotor clutched at what was left of his dick and balls. "You..." he gasped, reaching for Dustin's wrist, bending it back. "You fucker. You're the fucker. You little devil."

Furious and terrified, Dustin kicked out at him, freeing himself, and then lunged, driving the knife into Pyotor's belly again and again. Pyotor shrieked as Dustin stabbed him again and again, trying to fight back, but in such agony that he had little coordination.

Horrified that Pyotor still appeared to be alive despite his efforts, he suddenly recalled Marita's lesson. If a fist to the throat would incapacitate, what might a knife achieve? He took a firm, two-handed grip on the knife that had become his talisman, and thrust it upward into Pyotor's throat.

Pyotor backed into a corner, too late seeing the knife shifting targets. "Devil, he hissed, as Dustin drove the knife home. "That's... Alex's ... knife." As his lifeblood spurted forth, his eyes focused for a final time on Dustin. He tried to speak, but could only gurgle. Gradually, the flow of blood slowed to a stream, a trickle, a stop. There was one final exhalation, fouler than the rest of Pyotor's breath, if that was possible, then the large man lay still, dead eyes staring sightlessly at Dustin.

Dustin stood with his back pressed against a wall with his teeth clamped firmly into his lower lip for a very long time, shaking like a leaf. He was saturated, red with blood, and his pajamas were ripped to shreds from the struggle.

Finally, Dustin stepped forward and spat on the body that sprawled across his floor.

"That was for Alex. He's safe from you now." Clutching his knife in his hand, Dustin opened the door to the leave his room and went in search of a bed for the rest of the night, stumbling down the corridor to the large sitting room at the end.

A nurse had heard the commotion and was on the way. When she saw Dustin step outside, she approached. "Mister Yarma... what... what happened? Who has done this?"

"I he " Dustin fell silent and merely pointed to the door of his room, permitting her to form her own opinion. The only thing that he knew was that he had to keep his knife. He waited until she stepped inside the room, and then kissed the blade, smearing blood all over his face. Looking around rapidly for somewhere to hide it, he stuffed it down behind the cushions of a chair that stood in the corner, before returning to stand, swaying slightly, by the door.

The nurse came back, obviously concerned. "That big bully tried to hurt you. I knew he was trouble the moment I laid eyes on him!" She put an arm around the shaking Dustin. "Are you all right? No, of course you're not. Come on. We'll get you cleaned up." She frowned, smoothing his blood soaked shirt. "Poor, poor dear." Clucking her tongue, she looked around. "Is there anything you need?"

"Alex?" Dustin knew, somewhere deep inside his mind that the request he made was impossible for her to fulfill. He took a deep breath, and thought harder, more practically. "A bath. Got blood on me." He slumped, and stood limply, afraid of everything.

She nodded, supporting him with an arm as she guided him up some stairs and to a large bathroom, luxurious in appointment. "With the Master gone, I can take care of you proper."

She pronounced it 'Massah' - an auditory trick? wondered Dustin. He was shocked, dazed.--

"Is Alex your lover's name? I've seen you together, in the gardens. I could tell that you love each other, but there was such fear in your eyes." She drew him a bath, with bubbles, urging, "Go ahead, sweetness." She helped him step into the tub, and began to gently clean him with a washtowel.

Dustin moved to sit down, but his ass was so sore where he'd been invaded without preparation that his breath caught when he tried, and he whimpered as the blood ran down the backs of his legs.

"Sorry," he whispered. "Alex yeah, Alex is my lover. I miss him." He couldn't say any more. He merely stood and waited for someone to help him, or to kill him.

The woman sighed. "What did he do to you?" She pulled him to her. "Sweetie... oh, my Lord." She looked away for a moment. "No one should be treated this way. Where is Alex? Is he..." Seeing the look in his eyes just about broke her heart. "Let's get you cleaned up, and into a soft bed," she said. "If you want, I'll stay by you so no one can hurt you again tonight. Or ever, if I can help it. You seem so sad." She smiled, stroking his arm gently.

Slowly, Dustin calmed down, and was finally able to sit down in the bathtub, although his breath hissed out in pain at the touch of the hot water. He began by scrubbing hard at the blood on his thighs, scrubbing until the flesh was reddened, and he could see the blood well up from the pores. He felt dirty. It didn't matter how hard he scoured, the filthy bastard's hands were still touching him, and he could still feel blood - Pyotors or his own, he really didnt know - spreading over his skin.

At last, he began to cry silently, the tears flowing despite his desire for them to stop.

"My name's Malia," the woman said softly. "Don't rub so hard -- you'll make it worse. I know he hurt you. I'll help you, if I can. Come on; don't hurt yourself. It's no use in hurtin' youself, darlin. Will you be okay if I go to fix up your bed now?"

Dustin nodded. He was fine. He was more than fine, but he wanted his knife. When she left, he climbed out of the tub, wrapped a towel around himself and left the room, racing through the building for the place hed left it while his heart beat an anxious tattoo against his ribs.

Retrieving his knife took only a few minutes, and washing it in the soapy bathwater was the work of an instant. Hiding it was more difficult. He knew that the knife was magical, and he wasn't going to permit anything to stand in the way of his possession of it. Finally, he tucked it down into the towel he was wearing, and trusted to luck that it wouldnt be discovered.

"Come on. I've made you a bed. Come lay down. You'll be safe. I won't let anyone hurt you." Malia had returned, holding a fresh towel, reaching for the other one. As she took it, the knife clattered to the ground. They both bent to retrieve it, Dustin coming away with it and holding it close, like the talisman hed come to believe it was.

"Good. You've something for protection. That's a good thing!" She sighed, thinking of Pyotor. "A very good thing."

Whimpering, Dustin continued held the knife to him, fingers curved around the hilt. "It's mine. Alex gave it to me. It saved me." He smiled, a hard, wild smile. "He thought that he could just use me like a whore, but I'm not a whore. I showed him that he can't hurt Alex." He shuddered, and then looked at Malia. "You think that he'll hurt Alex any more?"

"Who, Pyotor?" He's so fragile, so frightened, she thought, and smiled. "Not if he's dead. You killed him; see? You saved your lover. I'm -- I'm sure he'll be grateful." Where was his lover, though? He hadn't answered. Maybe now he would. "You're not a whore, sweetie. You're a man, just like any other."

She led him to a master bedroom, with a featherbed. "Your Alex, where is he?"

"I don't know. He was forced to go to Cairo." Dustin was utterly exhausted. "Pyotor said that they were going to cut off his balls." He crumpled then, reacting to the events of the day. "He gave... me the knife," he sobbed.

"Cut off his... you must be... poor thing. That must have been a fairy story. I don't believe they would do that. Only a butcher would do that." Malia frowned, as she pulled down the covers on the bed and gently urged Dustin to lay down. "Why was he sent away and not you with him?"

Dustin permitted the motherly nurse to settle him into the soft bed, but spoke no further, placing his knife under the pillow. It was a long time before sleep returned to him.

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

The plane landed in Tunis and the guards hustled Alex into a Range Rover, driving him to El Habibi's palace, where he was shown into the foyer. Someone instructed him to kneel before El Habibi entered the room, and at a shove from a guard, he stumbled to the floor.

Growling, he moved to stand, but was held in place as Habibi entered the room.

Alex shivered.

The man was obscenely fat, and wore a traditional galabiyeh that flowed to his feet, making him resemble a ship in full sail. A snap of his fingers released Alex from the hands that held him, and a further snap brought a young servant with a tray on which sat a teapot and two cups.

"Alex Krycek," said the Arab. "I'm so happy to see you. Come." He gestured for Alex to stand and led the way to a couch, motioning for Alex to take a seat beside him on the cushions before offering him tea.

Maybe if I'm good he won't cut me, thought Alex hopefully. He kept his features impassive as he rose, as gracefully as he could, and walked over to the offered seat. Sitting down with feline grace, he looked at Habibi from under lowered eyelids as he accepted his tea.

"Thank you, Effendi. It's very good to see you, as well." I can do this. For Dustin, I can do this, he told himself. At the thought of Dustin he had trouble keeping a wistful look off of his face.

El Habibi clicked his fingers once again, and trays loaded with food of different sorts arrived. "Would you care for refreshment, Alex? I know how difficult it is for one who has crossed the Atlantic. You must be exhausted." The gross man reached out to caress Alex's neck as he spoke, and then took a small pastry from one of the trays and held it to Alex's lips.

Steeling himself, Alex curved his lips in imitation of a smile. "Thank you, Effendi. To be honest, I slept most of the way. I wanted to be well rested for you," he purred, glancing at the foul man seductively, lowering his lashes again. "Ive missed you, you know." Bile rose in his throat and he fought to control it as he accepted the pastry.

It was sticky, sugary, and frosted, and Alex took care to lick every bit of frosting off of Habibi's sausage-like fingers after eating it. He licked his lips, and purred again, apparently content. "That was delicious, Effendi."

Actually, it was horrible. He wanted to throw up, but he was good at what he did. He could feel the game coming back to him, and the thrill with it.

The obese man seemed well pleased, studying Alex intently. It had been two years since the two of them had met and he had feared that with the passing of time, Alex would have begun to lose his looks. He found himself entranced by Alex's eyes, now turned on him with every sign indicating that Alex was fascinated by him.

Alex fluttered his lashes as the man scrutinized him, doing his best to look appealing.

"I've missed you, my beautiful Russian. I'm so happy that you will be staying here with me for a while. I've never found another with your talents." The Arab stood, waving to summon his servants. "Bring me the gifts I purchased for this man."

Raising his eyes to Habibi, Alex smiled sweetly. "I've missed you, too. You were always kind." Maybe if I show humility, he thought, Habibi won't cut me. If Im docile, why bother? He subtly stroked his hip pocket, where he'd secreted a nasty knife. Not as pretty as the one he'd given Dustin, but just as deadly.

Several boxes were brought, and laid before the fat man. On inspection, they were found to contain a golden collar, a silken garment that was designed to cover little more than Alex's hips. Sandals and aromatic oil made up the balance of the contents.

"These have been waiting for you since the last time you were here, my friend. I long to see you dressed as befits my favorite. Indulge me, please." El Habibi licked his lips, continuing to trail his fingers over Alex's face and neck.

Alex bowed his head. "If it pleases you, I will wear them. Thank you. They're lovely." He allowed himself to be led into a chamber, where several young women in traditional Arab dress were ready to anoint his body with the oils and prepare him.

When he returned to El Habibi, he was transformed. His body had been oiled and perfumed, and he was clad in the filmy loincloth and leather sandals that the Arab had provided. They had gilded his nipples, put kohl on his eyes, and dusted his face and chest with gold powder.

El Habibi was visibly moved by Alex's transformation from western thug to odalisque. It was plainly apparent that he had an erection. He gestured to Alex to come to him, and indicated that he should kneel before him.

Smiling slightly, trickster Hermes come to life in winged sandals, Krycek danced to Habibi's side, kneeling obediently. Familiar feelings of comfort threatened to overtake him as he recalled the way this man took care of him. But then he remembered the cruel punishments and tortures that were the other side of Habibi's hospitality, and that was enough for him to keep his edge. Looking up at El Habibi, he hoped to appear angelic, but he felt his body tremble.

"Oh, my beautiful young man." El Habibi leaned forward to capture Alex's mouth in a kiss that invaded him as he knelt, submissively.

Krycek felt himself stiffen as the fat, foul tasting tongue invaded his mouth. He couldn't breathe, and involuntarily reared back, before he could help it. Moving to correct his error, he swiftly put his hand to the man's fat cheek, fighting not to gag as he returned the kiss.

"If only we could repair the damage to your arm. You were perfection, and that has spoiled a work of art."

He lifted the hem of his robe, rolling it up to reveal his erection, stiff and dripping between massive thighs.

When he was presented with the man's gleaming cock, he had to fight the urge to be sick. He gave the crown a lick, but bile rose in his stomach.

Imagining it was Dustins, Alex took the head into his mouth.

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

Dustin woke to Malia shaking his shoulder urgently.

"What?" His eyes felt gummy and he was tired and disoriented. All of a sudden, the memories crashed in on him. He'd killed Pyotor. My God! What had he done? He sat up, horrified. She said nothing to him, merely handing him a cell phone.

The voice on the other end was steady as ever. "Good morning, Dustin. Did you have a good sleep?" He could hear the man take a drag on his cigarette as he waited for a reply.

"Good morning," croaked Dustin. His mind was racing as he tried to decide exactly what to say to the man he perceived as the source of all his problems. "How how is Alex?"

"Alex? I imagine he's fine. You'll be able to call him later. He's with El Habibi now. Don't worry. Mr. Habibi loves Alex, and will treat him well." He took another drag on his cigarette. "I hear there was an incident last night with Pyotor." He sounded slightly giddy.

"Alex was afraid of El Habibi. Pyotor told me that he was going to " Dustin's voice failed him for a moment. "I killed him, you know. He raped me, so I killed him. I cut him up."

All of a sudden, the room seemed to be far too warm, the air thick in his lungs. A vision of Pyotor, bleeding and dying, rose up to gibber in his mind, and he felt faint. "I killed him," he repeated, uncertainly.

"I know you did, son," the Smoker said softly. "That's good. In fact, that's great. It was what I was looking for. Alex was afraid of Habibi?"

"You wanted me to kill him?" The nave question was out of Dustin's mouth before he thought it through. "I don't understand. Why would you want me to kill him?" Dustin took a deep breath and forged ahead. "You know that El Habibi terrified him. He wanted to geld Alex - to turn him into a eunuch. Why would you let that happen to him? Hasn't he served you well?"

"Yes, he has, and that's why I have sold him to a man who would care for him, love him, after his retirement. I believe I've found a suitable replacement for him. Your behavior last night only serves to positively reinforce that belief." Dustin could hear the satisfaction in his voice, and knew instinctively that he was smiling. "In his retirement Alex will be loved, bejeweled and anointed with the sweetest oils. Dont you want that for him?"

"No!" Dustins cry was almost a scream. "Don't. Please dont. I need him. He's mine."

It didn't seem to matter what he did, everything pulled him deeper and deeper into the trap this old spider had laid for them. He needed Alex, and he didn't know how to help him.

"Please let Alex come back to me? He loves me. Why would you send him off to live with some Arab when it's me he loves?"

"Love?" the Smoker laughed. "This isnt about love. It's about money, and politics. If you knew about those things, if you knew the implications, the reasons, you might hope to understand. But you're a boy in love, and boys in love won't hear anything else." The Smoker took another drag before continuing, "You don't love Alex. You love the idea that you have of Alex. Just as Habibi does. But the images are different from the reality. Don't you see? Alex is only in your mind, a mental construct, if you will."

He exhaled before aiming his reasonable tone at Dustin again.. "You... you have substance. Substance that can be felt, heard. Your voice is alive with hate. I like that very much. When I return tonight, you will make me happy. Won't you, Dustin? Be my new pet?"

Head spinning, Dustin tried to think how to best to answer. The silence lengthened, as fragile and brittle as glass, and then finally, the words came. "I belong to Alex. He belongs to me. Hes all I need. Thank you for your kind offer." Dustin didn't wait for a reply. He flipped off the phone, and climbed out of bed, wondering where his clothes were.

As if on cue, Malia appeared with a fresh suit. "Here you are, Mr. Yarma. What would you like for breakfast, and where will you be taking it this morning?"

Dustin winced as he began to dress himself. The torn tissues of his backside made movement extremely painful. Coffee and juice were about all he could contemplate. He gave his order, and then as an afterthought, asked if he could see a doctor.

Malia nodded. "Of course. Please, follow me." He was led to an examination room. Malia told him to wait, and went off in the direction of the kitchen.

An elderly man walked into the room, accompanied by Greta. "Let us hope hes not hurt too badly," Greta said. The doctor grunted and regarded Dustin, bidding him get undressed and onto the examining table. Throughout the examination that followed, Dustin was placid, permitting the doctor to do as he wished. Finally, her was given ointment, painkillers, and an injection, and dismissed.

He was alone; he was afraid; but he would manage.

After all, he had his knife.

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

Onto 6: Present Tense

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