All disclaimers apply. "After the first death" by Jack Carol Crowder III He kept thinking that he had a tunnel running in his chest. The path the bullet took, burrowing through the flesh and sinew and whatever muscle the bullet encountered. The pain... wow... breath-caught... his amber hair hung over his eyes. His hazel eyes losing glow.. as his glasses dangled off his nose. He laid there on the floor, his purple tie wrapped around his left arm with spots of crimson upon it. The end of the passage of the bullet ripped open his blue shirt. The memories of the day began recovering in this thoughts. The images.. like a river pouring.. a rewind of the day before him...... Fox Mulder laid flat out against the couch. His eyes flickering under his eyelids, a rough unshaven look graced his features. His black coat covered him from the cold wind going through the living room. The sweat built on his forehead, yet the cold wind swiped the sweat off his forehead, and letting the hair flow lightly in the wind as well. The window had been broken for weeks now in the apartment of 42, 2360 Hegal Place. With a groan breaking his lips, Mulder finally turned over on the couch the first time in the past four hours. Falling right on off the couch to the floor with a bang. "Uuhh.. Okay, time to get off the nightmare wagon." Slowly opening his eyes to see the pale brown of his floor, Mulder rolled over to his side to stare at the ceiling for a moment. The small cracks remained the same, although how old they were. A message to everyone who looked on them.. small things don't change. He placed his hands against the side of the couch and crawled to his feet. Running his hand against his forehead, he stared at the blinking 12:00 on his clock. The bright yellow almost making his eyes water along with the strong sunlight from the broken window. Heading down the path to the his bathroom, dropping his clothes as he went to the gray toned floor. Jumping into the warm shower for the finally wake up call. He closed the door of his apartment, locking it and slipping on a pair of sunglasses with a rose tint. Jingling his car keys, he walked down the hallway, scanning every face he saw. Today he would not see Scully, it was the dark day of her father's death. He opened the door of his Ford Taurus and slipped within it. The passenger seat was filled with old files, cases, and folders of the X-Files. He slipped the key within the ignition and leaned back in the seat. Mulder maneuvered through the traffic and headed to the Hoover Building. Hours were spent... hours in a blur researching the subject of 'Ohio Sewer systems' and 'Ohio Sightings.' Day had became night, the moon had replaced the sun the sky and the stars could not be seen by the City's lights. Mulder peaked up from the documents and let out a long yawn. He had worked long enough for today, he had done the researched needed for the next case. Standing, Fox took his coat off the back of his chair and slipped it on his shoulders. He yawned again and set course home from his office. Mulder walked out of his office stopping by the water cooler for a sip. A figure came his way, a new one to the docks, Rachel Joshephene. "Hey Mulder, I got a chance to read your last report. You said it was going to be a musical..." "Well, I'm very disappointed. I saw Skinner's release of it, and all the music was gone--at least all of my singing." As Mulder turned the corner, a cigarette landed at his feet. For a moment.. the image of the Morley cigarette at his feet held still. Mulder's eyes lifted up and followed the trail of the cigarette's owner. The trail ended in the shadows of the hallway's doors. Standing the doorframe, lighting another cigaretter was a man. He held the cigarette with this thumb and his index finger. Mulder's eyes made perfect contact with the man's. It was not the first time they had met. Every time they had in the past had slowly increased in tension. "Walk with me, Mister Mulder." "I'm on my way home--" Cancer Man's voice was cold, as cold and as flat as a voice could be when you are angry. "Walk with me, Mister Mulder." The door behind the Cigarette-Smoking-Man opened and he turned around. The figure walked down the path from the door. Mulder simply followed, shrugging this off since he had nothing better to do this evening. "This case ends now." The smoke gathered from Cigarette-Smoking-Man and came up as a cloud in front of him. Mulder pulled in front of Cancer Man, the smoke fading against his face and stopped. Glaring into his eyes. "I will not end anything." "Do not mess with me, Mulder, I have watched presidents die. You will end this case, whether or not you want to. You seek the truth, here's your chance. Truth is, if you do not end this case, it may end you." "Is that a threat?" "Take it how you want, Mister Mulder." The Cigarette-Smoking-Man turned to his right, a long corridor of black leading into the building. The figure vanished into the darkness, his suit sprung to mask his leaving from the last few feet. Just like he had come, creating more questions than answers. Mulder brushed off his suit and headed to the parking lot, his eyes growing tired from the bookwork and this encounter. Why did Cancer Man want this case closed? Why does the Ohio sewer system declare a plane crashed into an outlet? Why are ten men dead for one simple crash in a sewer? Why are their wounds like huge claw marks? He slipped into his car, with another yawn. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and withdrew his 9mm. He spun around and placed the barrel of his weapon against the nose of the Shoulder-Taper. The short brown hair mixed with the darkness of the night, his face half covered in shadows, and his eyes peering at Mulder, he gave a slight grin. "You miss me, Mulder?" "Krycek." "The one and only." The eye contact was not broke as Mulder kept his weapon on target. "Mind my asking, Why the hell are you in my car?" "It is such a nice carÖ but I need to talk to you about Ohio." Mulder gave a content smirk and said, "Is Ohio the keyword of the day?" "Trust me, Mulder, you want to hear what I have to say." "I trust no one." Alex crossed his arms, he tilted his head and smiled. "Not even if Scully's life depended on it?" "Go on." "Let's go to your place first." The hallway was as still as ever as Mulder and Krycek entered the building. Mulder opened the door of his apartment and entered. The cold wind wrapping around them both from the window. "Coffee?" Krycek reached into his coat, pulling out a folder and threw it on Mulder's table. "That's the only Java I'll take." Mulder opened up the file, the whole file when she had cancer, but no edited parts. Every detail listed, even the use of the chip that was in her neck to release it in her system. Mulder blinked and looked at Alex. "Where did you get this?" Krycek pocketed his hands, glancing around Mulder's apartment. "You really should clean up around here. Really should. Perhaps you could get a lady friend in here-- have some fun, if you know what I mean." "Damnit to hell, where did you get this?!" "Do not loose your calm, Foxy, I will tell you soon enough." Alex made his way to Mulder's desk, the current files just laying out, and his notepad half full of data. "The chip released the cancer in a--. Krycek?" Krycek reached into his coat, pulling a glock series model weapon and aimed it at Mulder's chest. "Game Over." The burning in his chest broke the liquid rush of the memories of the day as Mulder glanced back down at the bullet wound. With the slight strength he had within him.. he reached over to his cellular and dialed a number which he had memorized. A soft female voice answered quietly. "Scully." "S-S-Scully-- I I need your help." end