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Title: Childhood Promises: Making Promises Summary: A scene from Alex Krycek's childhood. Archive: Authors Notes: Some of you may recognize this. It was posted to atxc back in June, but never made it onto any of the archives. I've been developing a series around the concept (I've got several stories half- written), but it seems that the chances of me getting it done in any time soon are very slim. So I'm posting it again. I want to know if there's any interest in the series <g>. Disclaimer: Yeah, I think I know that I don't own them - CC and 1013 make that clear every Friday night. But I'm stealing them for four pages of nonsense - no copyright infringement intended. Glancing around at the empty corridor, the eleven-year-old boy made sure that no one could see him enter the room before him. He knew that it was forbidden, knew the punishment that awaited him if discovered. But what lay behind it called him with a strength that overwhelmed any fear. And since his final, slightly guilty glance revealed nothing but the empty silence of an abandoned corridor, he took a deep breath and turned to face the door before him. Stealthily, he opened the door, pulling it slowly so that no betraying creak would advertise his presence to anyone. An action he'd performed many times over the past several years, it never lost its thrill, its risk. Once he touched that doorknob, committed himself to the action before him, he'd reached the point of no return. If someone stumbled upon him now there was no way to bluff himself out of the consequences of his actions. The symbols decorating the door's wooden surface clearly marked this place out-of-bounds for the wandering boy, a place not to be entered under any circumstance. With a final tug, he pulled it fully open and slipped inside. After slipping inside the two-room suite, he closed the door and heaved a sigh of relief. Few ever visited this room, especially during the summer vacations of most of the scientists, so he was relatively safe. But keeping his caution in place, he tip-toed across the dark inner room into the next. "Samantha?" he whispered into the stillness "It's Alex." The dark-haired girl lying upon the bed near the room's wide picture window stirred at the sound of his voice. "Alex." she murmured in a voice weak and raspy with pain. "You really came again." "Yeah." he smiled and walked to her bedside, studying his friend's face. Exhaustion marred it so clearly that even the usually self- centered boy noticed it. "Sam, they've been running the tests again?" "Of course." she answered, a wry smile briefly lighting her face. "Exactly what else would they be doing?" The bitterness hidden beneath her tone tugged at the other child and he leaned closer. "I wish ..." he began, but his mind hesitated at criticizing the men that ran this place, men who worked with his father, men who he'd admired and feared all his childhood. "I don't know ..." "Don't worry Alex." Samantha said with the odd maturity that sometimes confused him. "There's nothing anyone can do about it." Alex knew he needed to change the subject. "I brought you a present." "What?" she asked eagerly, and the exhausted, oddly mature little girl vanished for an instant. Her hazel eyes suddenly sparkled with life, and her thin cheeks took on a distinctly reddish color. "WHAT?" she demanded. He held out the one hand he had kept hidden behind his back since he entered this room, revealing a chocolate candy bar. Samantha laughed in glee and greedily snatched the offered gift from his outstretched hand. "Thank you!" she said and his heart soared at the happiness evident in her voice. She was usually so exhausted during his rare visits that he loved the infrequent times he could rouse her to laughter and life. "I remembered that you said you missed chocolate - so I convinced my father to buy some for me on the way up here today. He didn't notice that I hid it instead of eating it." After breaking off a small piece, Sam carefully re-wrapped the candy and placed it under her pillow. Sucking on the small piece, she mumbled past the stickiness "Thank you. My brother always used to tease me about my sweet tooth and it's been so long ...." her voice trailed off. Alex's eyes widened in interest. Sam had never mentioned a family, and he'd presumed she'd lived here alone except for the scientists most of her life. But now, his interest peaked by this new piece of information, he queried "Your brother?" Wrong question. Her eyes filled with tears and the temporary gladness abruptly deserted her face. "Please don't mention him." she whispered, turning her gaze from his face to the cloudy scene outside the window. Repentant, Alex crawled up onto the bed beside her and gave her a hug. "I'm sorry." But the tears streamed down her face, unstemmed by the comfort offered by Alex "I can't really remember them, except sometimes like now. And then I miss them so much. But they're gone!" Alex continued to hold his crying friend, rocking her gently, despite the fact he would have done so for no one else. But the school-yard bullies would never see him here - never know about the crying girl he comforted. "I'm here. And I'm never going to leave you." "Promise?" she sniffled. "Promise," the boy-child said firmly, the first promise he ever had made that he intended to keep despite what it may cost him. "How quickly the boy does become a man." One man commented, watching the scene unfold before him. "Protecting the weaker, protecting his love. She's ensnared him already, at eleven years of age." The other had already turned away from the scene playing out behind the one-way glass, pain creasing his face. "I'm sorry about the chocolate. If I knew what Alex planned to do with it ... I promise that such a lapse will *never* happen again." "Oh, that doesn't matter, Thomas. Alexander's chocolate treat will not harm our experiments and will serve to cement their friendship. It's the little things that count." And a cruel smile twisted his face. "They are only children!" "Never too young to ensure their loyalty to, dependence upon, the project. By fostering their relationship, setting him up as Samantha's defender, we bind Alexander to our group. And remember, when our generation passes, we need loyal people whose lives are deeply intertwined with the project to inherit the burden." And turning toward the door, the man firmly ground a still-smoking cigarette beneath his heel. "And I have high hopes for those two - and for their children." End.
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