MISPRISION

Misprision: (pronounced, miss-prizz-ee-on); adjective; Middle English, a mistake, misdirection or a misunderstanding, deliberate concealment or deflection in the release of information - from Old French 'mesprendre' to mistake, ... was still in common usage in 16th century England.

Chapter Seventeen

Dana Scully sat in the back of Monica Reyes' jeep, her son in the cradle seat beside her, her mother and Reyes in the front. When AD Skinner had suggested that they should all get together in his 'hideaway' she'd been a little dubious that there was much merit in it. However, reflecting on her experiences when William had been born, and the fears she'd had regarding her pregnancy made her receptive to the idea of removing herself and her son from the firing line as it were. Her mind was in turmoil and she was, frankly, exhausted by the events of the last few months. Perhaps her boss had a point. There was some truth in the old saying that there was strength in numbers after all. In any case she had agreed to pack her things and go.

As to where they were going, she had no idea and Reyes had not enlightened her. She supposed it really didn't matter. In other circumstances she might have insisted on being given every scrap of information before making such a decision. One thing she'd learned whilst being Mulder's partner though was that, no matter how much information you possessed ahead of time, there was not always a guarantee of a positive outcome. Whatever, she was too tired to think beyond the instinctive level of a response to protect her son. William was sleeping soundly. She smiled down at him and as she watched him she felt her own weariness overtake her. Soon she too was in the arms of morpheus.

Walter Skinner was pleased with the operation so far. All of the data they'd collected from Zeus Genetics was stored in the building he'd designated as the 'media centre'. Rooms in the main house and one adjoining cabin had been allocated to all of their party and Agent Reyes' vehicle was even now pulling into the parking circle. He had high hopes that they might, at last, actually have a chance to get a game plan together and begin working out how to take down the forces that were ranged against them. Perhaps they could finally find a way to defend themselves against the aliens, whatever their aims might be. He had good reason to doubt that they were benevolent after what had happened to Mulder.

What had happened to Krycek and his brother indicated a similar lack of benevolence on the part of Spender and his cronies. It was still not entirely clear to him how the two things were linked, but he was fairly sure that they were, and now he had the means to discover that link. Smiling with a certain grim satisfaction he stepped down from the veranda to greet the new arrivals.

Scully handed a sleeping William to her mother and went to greet her boss.

"Agent Scully," he said, "I've made a set of rooms available for you." He indicated the East Wing of the house as he spoke. "If there's anything I've overlooked please let me know." He winced a little as he realised how much like a hotel manager he sounded. Not so odd perhaps, given that this had once been built as part of an exclusive resort, the kind which catered to a small clientele - for team building exercises or mini conferences. Given what he hoped they would achieve here, perhaps the place was finally getting to fulfil its original purpose. He grinned at that thought.

"Sir, thank you." Scully said, acknowledging his greeting.

"If you want to go inside and take a look around I'll help Agent Reyes with the luggage." he said.

Scully nodded tiredly in acceptance at his words and took the steps up to the front door.

"Good morning Mrs Scully, " Skinner said, "I hope that you will be comfortable here, and I sincerely hope that we will not have to inconvenience you for long."

"It's no inconvenience Mr Skinner." Margaret Scully said. "Though I'm sure we all wish the circumstances were different." She nodded at him and followed her daughter into the house as Skinner went to help in unloading the car.

On entering the large open living area, Scully drew to an abrupt halt. Of all the things she might have expected to see here, this would have been last on the list. Alex Krycek lying on his back on the sofa, wearing a ski hat and apparently fast asleep without a care in the world.

She'd thought he was dead - she'd heard what had occurred in the parking structure at the Hoover Building, yet here he was, large as life. Her temper at fraying point after the past few days she pulled out her gun and approached the sofa, cautious yet furious. Placing the barrel of the gun against Krycek's temple, she ignored the sharp intake of breath she heard from her mother.

"Get up you son of a bitch." she growled.

"Dana? What are you doing?" her mother protested. Her shock evident in the tone of her voice.

Alex moaned, and moved a little, but did not comply with Scully's order. Enraged, and still ignoring her mother, she pressed the gun barrel a little harder against Alex's head and repeated her demand a little more loudly. This time Alex opened his eyes but he still did not move. His pupils reacted slowly to the strong sunlight now streaming into the room and it began to register with Scully that her 'prisoner' might not be in the best condition to respond to her. At the same time as she began to reassess the situation she heard Mulder's voice join that of her mother in urging her to put down the gun. By the time he was standing next to her she had sheathed her weapon in its customary place behind her waist and was crouching down to examine Krycek.

"My God Mulder," she breathed, "what happened to him? Did you beat on him again?"

"Not me Scully, not this time. At least only once." He winced at the sharp look she gave him. "Most of his injuries were caused by Spender and his tame doctor. I admit to the bruised jaw though."

Scully carefully palpated the darkened area of Krycek's jaw, but despite her gentle touch he flinched at the contact.

Alex's muddled brain finally connected enough for him to register who was examining him.

"Hello Agent Scully, fancy meeting you here. Nice of you to join the party." he croaked.

The odd juxtaposition of his tone of voice and his battered appearance was a shock to Scully. Mulder, however, grinned. He was getting used to Krycek's little quips. He wondered how it was he'd overlooked the man's dry sense of humour in the past. Probably something to do with feeling a constant need to kill him of late, he mused.

Just then a fretful cry alerted Scully to the fact that her son was awake. With barely a glance at Krycek she stood and went to fetch William from her mother. Alex heard the young child's whimpers and his eyes tracked Scully as she crossed the room. When he saw the baby he frowned. Of all the doubts he's harboured about Scully, Skinner and the nature of his 'rescue' from Zeus Genetics, he had never once imagined that they would stoop to this level.

"No!" he managed to croak. He was struggling to sit up, suddenly animated in a way he had not been when Scully had held her gun on him.

"Hey Alex, take it easy." Mulder said, placing a gentle restraining hand on his right shoulder. "What is it?"

Alex seemed unable to respond, but he continued to squirm within his blanket cocoon. He wanted to get free, wanted to take the child and run. Run and never stop running. Of course he knew that he 'd no chance of being able to do anything of the sort when even moving his head hurt like a son of a bitch and his body was exhausted. He closed his eyes resignedly, his tears escaping unheeded, and cursed himself for his inability to do anything effective, for his lack of control over his emotions. He'd not cried so much since he was a young boy. He'd always sworn that he would deny his enemies the satisfaction of seeing how their treatment affected him after the way Romberg had enjoyed his screams at that long ago birthday session - yet now he just wanted to scream until he was no longer capable of breathing. He'd once seen a film entitled 'The Unbearable Lightness of Being'. That phrase fairly adequately described the way he felt. As if at any minute he would explode or float off into the wilds with no anchor and no control, a victim of the fates.

Irritated, he shook his head once more. The resulting pain drew him back from the edge of his despairing and into his body once more. As he opened his eyes he was aware of the soft noises emanating from the area of the room where Scully was. He glanced over in her direction and was fairly stunned to see her cradling the young infant in her arms, a look of such tender adoration on her face that he felt like a voyeur witnessing such a private and intimate moment.

He looked at Mulder, who was still clutching him by the shoulder and looking anxiously down at him, and finally allowed himself to relax. He exhaled, the release of tension leaving him limp with relief and also completely confused.

"Scully's baby?"

"Yeah" Mulder confirmed.

"How?" This barely audible.

"Huh?" Mulder was not really paying Krycek close attention any more as he gazed fondly at Scully and William. He rose and went towards them.

Scully acknowledged his presence with a small smile.

"Hey." she said.

"Hey yourself. D'you want any help getting your stuff in?"

Scully shook her head. "No need, Skinner is getting the bags, I need to feed this young man."

Mulder gently stroked William's cheek, unaccustomed emotions flowing through him as he felt the soft downy skin beneath his finger and watched the child make sucking motions around Scully's little finger.

"Why don't you come too?" She suggested.

Mulder nodded and followed her out of the room.

Margaret Scully was left alone observing the man on the couch. She'd never seen her daughter behave towards anyone in the way she had towards him. Dana had suddenly taken on a whole new persona in the eyes of her mother. She wasn't sure she was comfortable with what she had seen. Though she knew her daughter had to be tough and in control to do her job, let alone be involved in Mulder's crusade, nonetheless Dana's reaction to the man on the couch was puzzling in the extreme. From here he looked like nothing so much as a limp rag. He was clearly injured and currently appeared to be in a great deal of discomfort. Warily, she approached him. Closer inspection did nothing to alter this assessment in fact, if anything, it strengthened it. She felt a strong urge to do something to help him. Whatever he'd done to cause her daughter's negative reaction, she could not stand by and see him suffering without offering him aid.

She remembered Mulder had addressed him as Krycek. Carefully she reached a hand out and placed it on his shoulder. His eyes flew open and it was easy to see the panic in them as he looked at her.

"Mr Krycek?" she said tentatively. Her voice was soft and gentle and had the effect of calming him a little. "Are you all right?"

He closed his eyes again and nodded but she wasn't convinced.

"Can I get you something? Some water?" she tried again.

He looked hopeful at that, then bit his lip and shook his head. This negative response surprised her, so she persisted.

"It's no trouble," she said, standing and moving to the open kitchen area at one end of this large living space. She found a glass in one cupboard a, checked the fridge for ice and water and returned triumphantly bearing her prize. She held ot out to him.

Alex looked longingly at the glass in her hand, his tongue flickered out to lick his lips - lips that were dry and cracked. Then he closed his eyes and turned his head away from her.

Margaret Scully sighed, placed the glass carefully on the nearby coffee table before once again putting her hand on the man's shoulder.

"Mr Krycek?"

At her touch Alex's eyes snapped open, and she noted that they seemed flat, devoid of emotion. She noted the dark circles under his eyes, the deep dark bruises on his face and jaw, the cold grey tones of his skin and his shallow breathing. Only one word came to mind to describe his behaviour - fear. This man was afraid, but of what she could not say.

"I'm sorry," she said, "are you able to drink.?"

He shrugged. She was confused.

"Are you not allowed to drink because of your injuries?" she persisted.

He made no reply.

"I know you're thirsty," she continued, "and if you need help I am here to help you - but if you cannot drink because of your injuries - if I made a mistake in offering you water please tell me."

Alex sighed and closed his eyes for a moment as pain washed over him once more. Finally he replied.

"I ... I can't hold the glass." he said hoarsely.

"No matter, I can do that for you." she said. "Now do you want some water?"

"Please."

This was so quiet that had she not been so close she might have failed to hear it.. She smiled reassuringly and reached again for the glass. Holding his head with one hand and the glass with the other she watched as he carefully sipped the water. When it was all gone he shut his eyes and sighed again, but this time he seemed less anxious and more relaxed.

"More?" she queried.

"No ... thank you." he said, his voice a little stronger now.

She nodded and made to leave him when she caught his eye. He looked at her as she stood, holding her gaze with his, the green eyes looking less wary than they had earlier.

"Thank you." he said again, an earnest expression of gratitude on his face.

"You're welcome." she said.

Impulsively she caressed his cheek as Mulder had done to William earlier.

He held her eyes a second longer then succumbed once again to sleep.

Satisfied that he was resting for now, Margaret Scully tidied the kitchen and went in search of AD Skinner.

end of chapter 17

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Chapter 18

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