Summary: Jeffrey Spender reflects.

Life After Death
by Kassandra

My father tried to kill me.

I don't know why it should have surprised me at all, given that he worked very hard to kill my mother.

To my amazement, Fox Mulder saved my life. Rather, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully saved my life. Mulder had come to the basement office to speak with me, he found me on the floor, bleeding to death and in shock from the hole in my chest.

They got me to a hospital under guard. I'm not there any more.

In fact, I'm not sure where I am.

Someplace safe, Alex says, and there's an edge in his voice when he answers me.

I don't think the edge is for me, but hell if I can be sure. He called me a sorry son of a bitch, once, when I was trying to help the blonde woman at the military hospital. I don't remember how he got me from the Georgetown Medical Center to this place, he says I was pretty far out of it, lots of morphine.

I surfaced to find myself here.

Underground. I think. There aren't any windows. The doctor who looks after me is mostly silent, he doesn't make conversation and when Alex comes in, the doctor's expression goes almost stony, except for the fright behind his eyes.

Alex's expression, the first time I saw him again, was taut with worry, haggard expression melting to relief when he realized that I was cognizant, if groggy.

He told me that Mulder and Scully had found me, gotten me to the hospital. That I'd been there for five days before he took me from the hospital and brought me here.

I told him my father had tried to kill me and there was a flash of that feral glint that I've seen in his eyes before. If I asked him, I think Alex might kill my father.

I wonder if it would be for me.

He came again tonight, and I was glad to see him. He's not as haggard these days, he looks taut, still, and concerned when he sees me, but something's changed.

Maybe it's me. I'm doing a lot better. No more fever and my lung is healing, my heart is healing. I guess I was closer to dying than I thought.

I was pretty sick for several days, I remember seeing Alex's face above me, hearing his voice, even though I was sick enough that the words didn't make sense.

I remember feeling his fingertips touch my cheek.

"You're going to be up again before you know it," he told me, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I studied his face. Wondering. "What happened to the woman?" I asked hoarsely.

He looked away. "I don't know." Bleakly. "She's probably back in the fold, working for your father."

I felt salt sting my eyes. "Christ."

He turned swiftly, bent to brush his mouth over mine. "He's a bastard." Fiercely.

He tasted like life. When he leaned back, I fumbled for the control on the bed, raised the back.

"Easy." His brows drawing together. "Easy, Jeff, take it slow."

"I'm okay." And I was, more or less, a little giddy. "What am I going to do? I'm dead to the world, isn't that true?"

His eyes went somber. "Yeah. I made sure of it."

I felt at a loss. It hadn't been much of a life, but it had been mine. "What am I going to do?"

"What do you want to do?" Quietly. He reached out with his one hand, took one of mine.

I honestly couldn't tell him. "I'd like to stay with you," I finally blurted.

Saw the sun rise in his face. "That's a given." Lightly.

Relief made me giddier. "Can we stop this?"

"I don't know." He glanced away briefly. "I don't know, Jeff." Rueful look.

I know he plays both ends against the middle. I know he used to work for the man my father worked for, until that man was executed. "Is it worth trying?"

He frowned. "Depends on how you feel about living."

I couldn't prevent myself from smiling. "I've been dead. I think I'd prefer living"

Brief smile in return. "Life after death? You've been on the Hero's Journey to the Underworld, Jeff."

"If this is the afterlife, I have mixed feelings." I really was feeling giddy, on the verge of laughter. "The down side is that I really hate being sick. The up side is that you're here."

His expression softened again. "Yeah?"

I nodded, as solemnly as any child. "Cross my heart."

He kissed me again, very gently. "You're going to get strong again, Jeff." Very softly. "And you're going to live. We both are. Somehow." His mouth brushed my eyelids, each in turn.

I nodded again, feeling the giddiness drain away. "You won't leave me behind?"

His mouth twisted briefly. "Never again."

Exhausted, suddenly, I squeezed his hand. "Then being dead isn't that bad."

"Life after death," he repeated again and his eyes were fierce. "And won't he be surprised when we end up winning."

Or when he ends up dead, I thought, knowing who he meant.

But it didn't matter.

At least not until I'm on my feet again.

finis