Title: Breaking a promise   The knife flashed in the mugger’s hand, the reflective surface catching the moonlight. Alex saw it and reacted instinctively, wrenching it from the older man’s grip. His accomplice continued to torment Walter and Alex wasted no more time. He stabbed once, experience telling him how to inflict maximum damage on the mugger. Turning back to the second man, Alex held out the blade. Looking past the young man to his friend lying still and quiet on the damp pavement, the other man ran.   Two years earlier…   One of the few things Walter had made Alex promise was that he would never ever again use his ‘skills’ unless he was in physical danger. Alex had huffed, slammed doors, refused to come in for meals or sleep for three days. Finally, Walter had suggested that if the condition were too onerous, Alex should find somewhere else to live.   Three days and nights Alex came and went from the house. On the fourth morning, Walter woke, reached for his glasses and felt the small scrap of paper under the wire rims. I promise. Two obviously hastily scrawled words on the first bit of paper Alex could find, which happened to be a till receipt from the corner store.   Walter pulled on his glasses and a robe and walked quietly down the corridor, looking into the spare room. Alex was lying on his side on the bare mattress on the rarely-used and unmade bed. He stood silently for a moment, then smiled and walked downstairs, sure the sounds and smells of breakfast would pull Alex and Fox down soon enough.   Present day…   Alex banged hard on John’s door, pulling him from sleep. Grumbling, John muttered his way to the front door and sighed when he saw who his early-morning visitor was. ‘Alex, what is it?’   Alex stood on the doorstep, shrugged and looked up. ‘I don’t know!’   Taking a deep breath, John stood back, holding the door open. ‘Inside. Does Walter know you’re here?’   Alex shook his head. ‘Walter’s in the hospital.’   Alex’s words shook any last vestiges of sleepiness from John. ‘What happened?’   Alex slid into one of the wooden kitchen chairs, ran his hands through his hair and stared at the table. ‘I killed someone and it doesn’t matter. Why not?’   John turned, started the coffee machine and dropped into a chair opposite Alex.   ‘Who Alex?’   ‘No-one. A guy. A mugger.’   ‘Why Alex?’   ‘Cos he hurt Walter.’   Slowly, John re-arranged the conversational puzzle into some order, finally seeing the whole picture. ‘You were out with Walter. Someone tried to rob you and you killed him?’   Alex nodded, taking hold of the coffee cup John slid across the table. ‘Why doesn’t it matter?’   John realized he was holding the final piece of the puzzle in his hand and had no idea where it fitted. ‘Who told you it didn’t matter Alex?’   ‘Walter. Um…and Fox.’   ‘You were protecting Walter, Alex. It was self defense.’   ‘I told Walter, and he said it didn’t matter. Fox said the man got what he deserved.’   Although shocked by Alex’s revelation, part of John agreed with Fox. But part of him wondered why his actions seemed to bother Alex so much. He was sure, although he had never asked directly, that Alex had killed before. He reached a hand out to Alex, covering Alex’s wrist. ‘Why *does* it matter Alex?’   Softly, Alex murmured. ‘Because I promised.’   John got up. ‘Are you hungry?’   Alex looked up. ‘I promised John!’   Reluctantly, hungry, John sat down. ‘What did you promise Alex?’   ‘Not to do it any more.’   John guessed what the ‘it’ was and nodded. ‘Walter was in trouble Alex. You were protecting him. And yourself.’   Apparently dissatisfied, Alex shook his head. ‘I promised. And it matters.’   Sighing, John pulled his keys from a hook behind the door. ‘Come on.’   ‘Where…’   ‘Let’s go see Walter.’   Slowly Alex followed John out.   ********************   Walter looked up, relief at seeing Alex tempered with anxiety at why John was with him. Fox turned from the window and smiled. ‘Hey John.’   John smiled. ‘Take a walk with me Fox.’   Fox frowned, looking at Walter. Sensing something had happened, Walter nodded reassuringly. ‘Go on Fox. Some fresh air will do you good. You haven’t been out of this room all night.’   Alex sat in the chair beside Walter’s bed, experienced eyes sweeping quickly over the cuts and bruises he could see, his imagination completing the picture of the wounds hidden by the blue blanket and white sheet.   Wanting to wait for Alex to speak in his own time, Walter lay back, his hand gently covering Alex’s.   Alex took several deep breaths then looked across at Walter. ‘I broke my promise.’   Walter frowned. ‘I know Alex. We already told you…’   ‘It matters.’ Alex said, his voice soft but firm.   Walter’s thumb stroked Alex’s fingers. ‘Alex, you were acting…’   Alex got up suddenly, throwing the chair against the wall. ‘NO!!!’   Before Walter could reach for his buzzer, several members of staff were already running into the room, trying to work out if the mugging victim was being attacked again. Seeing the staff running into Walter’s room, Fox and John ran down the corridor, arriving moments later. Fox pushed his way to Walter’s bedside, John decided to try and calm Alex who was standing against the window, eyes wide but unfocussed, chest heaving, muttering incoherently.   Between them, Fox and Walter reassured the staff there was nothing to worry about. Reluctantly, the staff left, all casting a glance in Alex’s direction, several thinking the man needed the attention of the staff on the third floor.   John spoke firmly and continuously, trying to make sure Alex realized he was there. ‘Alex! Look at me! It’s okay! Alex! Focus! Alex!’   Slowly, the dazed look faded from Alex’s eyes and his voice tailed off. Silently he stared at John. ‘Promised…’ John caught him, staggering slightly as Alex slumped into his arms.   To be continued…     Home Send me feedback on this fic Return to the X-Files Fic Index Return to the West Wing Fic Index