From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 15 Aug 2004 17:37:48 -0000
Subject: Pleasure In Pain 4/6 by Skinfull
Source: direct

Reply To: skinfull@undergroundtales.com


BETA IN PROGRESS 4/6
NC-17 Readers Discretion

AD Skinners office
9th November
7.35PM


"Chlorpromazine hydrochloride." Scully announced 
breathlessly as she stalked in holding the file up 
and handing it to him across the wide expanse of 
his desk. "Or Thorazine.  It's very hard to 
describe the effects of this drug without using the 
word zombie, but essentially that's what it boils 
down to. Thorazine is used for the treatment of 
schizophrenia  "

"How much of it would it take to sedate him?" 
Skinner asked as he flicked through the slim file.

"Quite a big injection but that was a 250cl vial."

"Enough to knock him out or at least quieten him 
down."  Skinner watched his agent take a deep 
breath to steady herself.  

"Sedation, lethargy, difficult thinking, 
nightmares, depression, poor concentration." She 
reeled off the effects with a detached clinical 
tone. 

"Wherever Mulder is there is no hope of him getting 
out of this alone."

"We have a visual recording of Mulder's car leaving 
Ohio drive heading north and getting onto the I66. 
But that's all. The toll bridge shows no view of 
his car passing through. The CCTV cameras in a 4 
block radius don't pick him up either." Skinner 
came around to where she was standing and loomed 
before her like a protective sheet of rock. 

"Have they found the car? He's probably dumped it."

"No sign yet."  Skinner rubbed his forehead roughly 
as he battled with his thoughts, dislodging his 
glasses with a stray swipe.

"Agent Cromwell showed me the description of the 
man who was seen entering the building shortly 
before we got there."

"It's the same one. The perp from the murders and 
the NY attacks."

"Sir..."

"Agent Scully you need to be taken off the case. 
This is way to close to you."

"What? N...No sir you can't."

"I can and I will. You know the bureau policy."

"AD Skinner I have been working on this case with 
Agent Mulder from the beginning. With both he and 
Agent Blake gone no one else knows this case as 
well as I do."

"I'm sorry Agent Scully but it's policy." He said 
more kindly,  "You will wear yourself down over 
this and then become ineffective or careless 
through exhaustion. The guys handling this are 
good. I want you to rest up. Stand back for a while 
and let us find your partner. "
    
He reached out and put a heavy hand on her 
shoulder, knowing she'd be back in the FBI lab 
within the hour examining the Thorazine for a 
manufacturers mark and checking sales reports of 
the controlled substance.

"Okay sir I understand I'll step down from lead but 
I won't stay away from the case completely."

"Talk to Agent Andrews. He was working closely with 
Agent Blake."

"Yes sir."

    Taking her folder off the desk she left the big 
room with a swift gait that led her directly to the 
basement office. Sitting at her partner's desk she 
immersed herself in the fresh smell from Mulder's 
gym bag that he had dumped there that morning. 
Glancing around the room the flashing red light on 
the phone caught her eye. She picked up the 
receiver and typed in the pin code for the 
messages.

"You have one new message."

"Scully, listen to me. I don't have time to 
speak..." Mulder voice in her ear seemed almost 
real and she longed to feel his breath accompany 
his soft words. "I know you're upstairs in the 
briefing room so I called here so you couldn't 
convince me what I was doing was so completely 
wrong. Even though I already know it was.  I'm on 
my way to Marlins garage beneath the I66 off Ohio 
Drive. He called me and asked to meet me."

"Oh my god Mulder," she muttered hating his 
impulsiveness more then anything at that moment, 
angrily swiping at the tears that filled her eyes.

"I have the profile saved on the H/D called 
211009mul if you need to see it. That's all. See 
you later Scully...dammit...ok I'm going to call 
your cell phone. I'm nearly there."
    
The message went dead and Scully put the phone 
down. Staring at it for a long moment she willed it 
to ring again and hear him say he was on the way 
back. But it never rang.  Instead she turned to the 
pc and did a file search for the one he just given 
her, smiling a little of the alphanumeric 
significance he'd saved it under.
    
The profile opened easily and she printed off a few 
copies of it. Making her way up to the briefing 
room. Once there, she gave a copy to Agent Andrews 
who thanked her and asked her to join him in 
examining it.

"I understand AD Skinner has removed you from the 
case." Andrews was passing her a cup of coffee and 
joining her at the large conference table as she 
spread the file out before them.

"Yes." She dug her fingernails into her palm rather 
than give in to the tears that threatened.

"Well if you are feeling up to it I'd like any help 
you have to offer."

"Of course."
    
Sipping the hot drink she ignored the burning 
sensation on her tongue, wanting to feel the 
stinging pain to let herself know it wasn't all a 
dream. The pain made it real and pushed her to work 
harder knowing how much worse it was for Mulder.

***

Darkness...

    Alex Blake ran her dry tongue over her cracked 
and bleeding lips. Her body had gone past the 
desire for water and now only wanted to give up. 
Finding it hard to keep her eyes open she rested in 
the darkness, taking what comfort from it she 
could.  The footsteps no longer bothered her, 
giving her instead hope for an ending to the pain 
and horror of what she had come to know.
    
The feeling of a hand clasping her throat was 
welcomed like the touch of an old friend and as it 
tightened she clamped her mouth shut to stop 
herself from breathing.

"You give up so easily." Jake sat over her torso 
and brought his other hand to her breast, kneading 
it roughly. "The fight was half the fun. Without 
the fight there is nothing here."

"...Kill...me..."

"Now, now, lets not get ahead of ourselves. You 
will still have your uses."  Jake pinched her 
nipple painfully making her jerk away from him but 
only making him squeeze harder. The hand holding 
her throat closed a little bit more constricting 
her breathing as he slid down her body, separating 
her legs with his knee.

    Alex stifled a cry at the thought of it all 
happening again but it wasn't just a thought 
anymore when the pressure on her pelvis became 
horribly real. She couldn't feel the blade cutting 
her skin anymore but the warm blood that trickled 
from the wounds was enough and the low chuckle from 
his crooked smile stung more then the blade ever 
could.

"It'll all be over soon Agent Blake."

    His teeth bit deeply into her chest drawing 
even more blood and she couldn't hold it in any 
longer. Her scream was loud and hoarse stemming 
from the pit of her stomach and ringing in her ears 
long after her lungs had expelled all their air.

"Does it hurt when I do this?" he asked her 
menacingly as he thrust into her deeply matching 
his movements with a swipe of the blade across her 
breast.

"Stop please...stop..." she cried unable to muster 
up the energy to fight back with passion, instead 
falling deeper into herself trying desperately to 
be somewhere else, to be someone else.

Darkness...

Mulder's cold and shivering body clutched itself 
tightly against the wall. He knew the general 
direction of the door but not a crack of light 
shone through to help him look around the room. His 
head still heavy from the drugs was wearily leaning 
on his bruised shoulders and with slowly blinking 
eyes he tried hard to concentrate.

Scully stood over him shaking her head in dismay 
before turning her back on him and walking into the 
darkness. Her shadow was replaced by Skinners tall 
shielding body half turned away from him and a 
leering expression of disgust on his face. 

Mulder blinked heavily but the image disappeared. 
He felt his cheeks burning with degradation and he 
looked away, burning his face into the wall. His 
tears mixed with his skin and the concrete but his 
voice was silenced.  His mouth was wide with 
screams but no sound came, his throat contracted to 
hold back his wails as he tried desperately to meld 
into the wall and disappear.

***

Georgetown Apartments
14th November
7.20 AM

    Dana Scully lay on her bed and watched the red 
digits of her alarm clock blinking eights.  She had 
been staring absently at it since 3am when she 
finally crawled into her bed and saw the display at 
4.20 when the power was knocked out. She had no 
idea what time it was now but she was sure it was 
well after seven as the sun was creeping 
traitorously into her room through the blinds. It 
was a beautiful day outside. How could it be so 
with Mulder missing? She didn't want the sun. She 
just wanted her partner back safe and whole.  
    
Four full days had passed since he'd been missing. 
Since he stepped out of the briefing room with only 
a warning glance thrown in her direction.  If only 
she had followed him, she mused again letting 
herself dwell on the prospect for a moment longer 
before throwing the heavy duvet off her body and 
dragging herself out of the bed.
    
She showered quickly, not giving herself the time 
to luxuriate in the warm welcoming water. She 
jumped out and dressed as soon as she could.  
Picking up a plain bagel for breakfast she drove 
quickly to work and made her way directly to the 
briefing room.  Agent Andrews was sitting at the 
centre conference room speaking quietly but angrily 
into the phone, while two younger agents she didn't 
recognise were sitting on the opposite end of the 
table.  When she sat down Agent Andrews finished 
his phone call and turned to face her slowly.

"Good morning Agent Scully."

"Problem?" she asked with a single quirk in her 
eyebrow.

"That was AD. Douglas." 

"Oh?" she flipped open the file they had been 
working on and fiddled with the pages while she 
waited for him to spit out the words he was trying 
his best to avoid saying.

"He wanted me to stop conferring with you over the 
case."

"AD. Douglas or AD. Skinner?" she asked.

"It was AD. Douglas I was speaking to, but I 
couldn't be sure who the order came from."
    
Scully stood and flipped the folder closed with 
annoyance. As Agent Andrews looked up to her he 
noticed buried deep beneath the perfect exterior of 
evenly applied makeup was the weary rings under 
tired eyes and a hurting heart. If they were alone 
he would have stood up with her and offered some 
form of physical comfort, a squeeze of her hand, a 
gentle touch on her shoulder-- hell even a light 
hug but spying the younger men across the room 
watching them covertly and having heard the many 
rumors about Agent Mulder and Agent Scully, he felt 
it would be wrong to do so.

"I'm going to go speak with AD. Skinner. I'll talk 
to you later." 

AD Skinners Office
12th November
10.03AM

"I'm sorry but it's wrong and I won't do it."

"C'mon Walter, you know she shouldn't be doing 
this. She shouldn't be anywhere near this case."

"No she shouldn't...but that's not to say she 
won't."
    
Skinner stepped away from his desk and retrieved a 
glass of water from the jug. He used the time to 
stall his thoughts and calm down his ranting.  
Looking across the room at AD Douglas who was 
sitting hunched over on one of the visitors chairs 
he knew what he was saying was right but there was 
something lodged in his chest, in his mind, his 
heart that just couldn't let himself agree so 
easily.

"Have you spoken to her over the past few days?" 
AD. Douglas asked him, standing up and joining him 
for a glass of iced water.

"Yes I spoke to her last night."

"How can you let her go on like this?"

"She needs to keep working."

"Let her keep working, but get her off this case."  
AD. Douglas finished his drink in one swallow and 
tossed the plastic cup into the trashcan by the 
table.  "Don't do this to her Walter, don't let it 
consume her."

'It will anyway.' Skinners inner monologue supplied 
sadly.
    
With his final ominous words AD. Douglas left the 
room leaving Skinner standing in the corner with an 
untouched cup of water warming slowly in his hands.
    
When the buzzer came to life on his desk it took 
him a few seconds to realise what the annoying 
noise was. But before he could reach for it the 
side door was flung open and Scully marched in. 
Behind him Kimberly flustered, but Skinner excused 
her with a quick nod and she left, closing the door 
softly behind her. 

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Right now." Skinner gestured towards the seat but 
she didn't even pretend to consider the offer.  
"Look...Dana," he began hoping the use of her first 
name might show her he was being a friend.  "You 
can't stay on this case."

"This is the fifth day he's been missing. Every 
hour he is gone makes it less likely we will find 
him alive."  Her whispered plea shattered his 
argument. He looked closer and saw her tear filled 
eyes. Her rampant fears running across her delicate 
features staining her smooth skin with lines of 
worry and exhaustion.

"I said, this is the fifth day Mulder's been 
missing," she repeated a little louder this time 
and with a tinge of anger. "And there has been 
nothing. I thought after his car was found we'd get 
somewhere but...nothing."

"It will take time."

"HE DOESN'T HAVE TIME!" she shouted, glaring up at 
him through her watery eyes suddenly allowing her 
anger to be released if even for a fraction of 
time.

"Dana. You have to step away. Look at you!"

"What?" 

"When is the last time you slept?" Without letting 
her answer he came over to her side and grasped her 
arm to make her face him. "You won't last long like 
this. You are barely eating and sleeping. When you 
do choke something down its not enough to keep a 
bird alive and then you do it only under 
sufferance."

"He wouldn't give up on me," she muttered, trying 
to slap him away.

"No but he wouldn't like to see you like this 
either."  Skinner loosened his grip on her arm, 
letting his hand fall down to hers to grasp her 
fingers. He squeezed them gently. "You need to stay 
away. I'm ordering a leave of absence. I don't want 
to see you in these offices for at least another 
week."

"No. Don't do this to me...to Mulder." she yanked 
her hand away from his touch and backed angrily 
away from him, heading towards the outer door. 
"Take me off the case if you want. Take me away 
from this but you can't stop me looking for him. 
You won't." She fumbled for the door handle and 
swung it open.

"I know." But she was already gone.

***
Darkness...

Alex Blake lay shivering on the cold damp 
floor. Her body seemed to have forgotten it's use 
and she found it hard to focus. Her mind reeled 
through the ravages of starvation but her mind lost 
its track too often to form a thought.
    
The muscles in her legs ached from the constant 
abuse, her back was raw and scraped and her chest 
was littered with slivered slices from thin blades. 
Dried blood caked her skin tainting it a red hue 
but it was too dark to examine closely and she had 
long since forgotten to care about it.  With both 
hands cuffed to a metal loop that was about a foot 
from the ground she could no longer move her 
fingers for lack of circulation. She knew her left 
wrist was broken when he had turned her roughly 
onto her back the night before, but the pain which 
had seemed so excruciating at first was now numbing 
down to mere background noise.
    
Footsteps at the doorway provoked her eyes to open 
but as the door creaked open heavily no light 
followed it in.  Jake stepped into the darkness and 
approached her without saying a word. She heard 
something metal clank down onto the concrete floor 
but she couldn't identify it by sound alone.

"You knew this wouldn't last forever."

"You'll burn in hell for this." Jake giggled at her 
brave words. He struck a match and lit a small 
candle letting the flare burn down to his fingers 
before blowing it out with a sharp breath. 

"I'm not afraid to die or going to hell." She felt 
his hands on her wrists as he fumbled trying to 
release the cuff. "I thought of you last night, in 
violent twists and turns."
    
Alex looked up to him through blank and starving 
eyes, one moment of clarity as she blinked the 
darkness away.  His words were confusing her. A 
mind already confused and starved of thoughts she 
found it hard to follow his madness.

"The world is fucked and so am I." He pulled the 
cuffs away not caring for her wounded, leaden arms. 
He let them fall to the ground, but instead wiping 
the cuffs dry he placed them on the silver tray by 
his knees.
"Maybe it's the other way round, I can't seem to 
decide."
    
He helped her pull her arms by her side and gently 
lingered his fingers over her stomach as if 
remembering a wonderful thought. He suddenly 
started to laugh and it sent a chill down her 
spine.

"They'll come looking for me." She cried when he 
reached for the syringe she could just make out on 
the tray.

"They already have."  He lifted the syringe into 
the light and squirted a bit out to make sure it 
was ready. "Unfortunately...this won't hurt a bit."
    
The needle punctured her skin with ease and she 
felt the hot liquid pressure absorbing its way into 
her bloodstream and making its way up her arm.  Her 
body felt as though it had been covered with a 
heavy blanket and she struggled through the haze to 
keep her mind focused.  Jake smiled down at her and 
she closed her eyes to his image, not wanting it to 
be the last thing she saw. 

Darkness...

"What's her name?" Jake stood over Mulder with the 
blade in one hand and long slim red candle in the 
other. His face was angry made more so by his 
nudity and wide shoulders. With one eye swollen 
shut Mulder blinked slowly with the other to focus 
on the dim light the candle provided. Each breath 
he took was a baptism of agony.
    
His lungs begged for fresh air but he had to 
suffice with only the slow shallow breaths his many 
broken ribs would allow.  Dried blood from his 
tortured wrists was flaking to the ground, the 
slightest movement reopening the wounds freshly and 
causing more blood to drip down his neck chest and 
legs.

"..Who?"

"WHO IS SHE?" Jake shouted, kicking him viciously 
in the side where the cuts from last night were 
still seeping blood.

"I.. don't know ...who you are talking about."

"You think of her when I kiss you. You think of her 
when I touch you," Jake crooned in his ear, 
kneeling down by Mulder's side and running his 
blade gently over Mulder's chest down to the top of 
his pubic bone. "You dreamt about her last night. I 
heard you calling out to her."  Turning away from 
him, Mulder let his face drop onto his shoulder and 
squeezed his eyes tight as much as the swelling 
would allow.  He could feel Jake leaning in closer, 
his hot stale breath on his neck.

"She screamed so hard when I fucked her last 
night!" Jake whispered, letting his tongue run 
along Mulder's ear lobe. "She screamed so hard I 
had to punch her to knock her out, but she was such 
a fighter."

"Stop," Mulder pleaded breathlessly.

"She fought pretty hard but they always lose in the 
end." Jake grabbed Mulder's chin and forced him to 
face him, digging his fingers in. He licked the 
blade as if he were cleaning blood from it then ran 
his tongue over Mulder's cheek.

"What's her name?"

"I don't know who...you are talking about..."

"I saw the two of you together. Last week. Real 
pretty. I thought you'd prefer blondes."

"I don't know." Mulder fought to keep his voice on 
an even keel. Wanting to keep the power he knew he 
didn't have. With little or no dignity left he 
couldn't understand why he was holding on. Scully, 
he couldn't have her here, he just couldn't, it was 
too awful to wrap his abused mind around.

"Scully!" Jake whispered so softly Mulder thought 
it was his own mind calling out to her, but then he 
punched him hard and fast with two quick blows to 
the jaw leaving Mulder lying on his side spitting 
blood from his mouth.

"Would you like to see her? She's not making much 
noise anymore."
    
Mulder watched as Jake blew the candle out and 
walked over to the door. Opening the door didn't 
bring any more light into the room and the instant 
darkness was impenetrable.  The sound of dragging 
was sickening as his mind whirled with thoughts, 
fear of what he might see. 

    Suddenly he felt a naked body, unmistakably 
female, slumping beside him. Then clinking sound of 
the cuffs being reattached to her hands and 
connected to the same metal loop he had been on for 
the past five days.  With one of his hands now 
free, Mulder let it drop down by his side to try to 
get the blood flow restored.

"Have fun."

    Jake picked up the tray and walked out the door 
slamming it shut behind him. Mulder lay still for a 
moment, unable to believe if what had happened was 
real or if it was his mind acting up again.  
Holding his breath to see if the body beside him 
was moving. Her torso moved slightly and he 
relished in it.

"Scully...Scully," he said softly, nudging her with 
his elbow but she didn't move. With his eyes opened 
or closed he could tell no difference so he closed 
them and let his other senses try to find her.

    She slid onto her back with a low moan and with 
his sore and bloodied hand he reached out to her 
face. Finding her cheek he slapped it gently with 
the back of his fingers to try to revive her but 
there was no response. Letting his hand roam over 
her neck and chest he felt the same thin scars he 
had on his own chest and it brought tears to his 
eyes.

"Oh god what have I done." For the first time since 
he had been chained up, through all that he had 
been through, only now he shed his tears with 
abandon. So hard he thought he'd never stop again 
until someone mercifully snuffed him out of this 
nightmare for good.
    
Sometime later.  Sitting up as far as the chains 
would allow he moved as close as he could to her, 
ignoring the shooting pain that scorched his ribs, 
bringing fresh tears to his eyes, he watched her; 
watched the darkness and waited for her soft 
familiar voice to penetrate this nightmare.  But it 
never came. The image of her foreboding glare 
peering at him in disgust before she turned away 
stung him deeply and he smarted for a moment before 
shaking the image out of his mind.

"I hope you never wake up Scully. I hope you never 
see me like this, I hope you stay wherever you 
are...I hope I can join you soon."
    
His anguished whisper echoed around the room and he 
moved his head to bury it on her chest.  Weeping 
openly his voice found his throat and instead of 
swallowing his pain he let it out in all its 
screaming glory. His head pumped mercilessly with 
rushing blood and a pain stung sharply in his 
chest, plummeting down to the roiling pit of his 
stomach where it festered.  
    
When his voice became hoarse and his head implored 
for mercy he took solace from the slowly beating 
heart in her chest.  His eyes became heavy and his 
breathing labored as his body shut down for the 
respite it needed.  He fought hard to keep his eyes 
open but it seemed like days had passed since he 
had shut his eyes and let his guard down.

"I'm so sorry Scully, I never meant this to 
happen," he whispered gently letting the thought 
rankle into his mind.  He fell into a deep sleep 
and eventually when he woke up he was alone.

***

FBI Briefing room
14th November
2.10PM

    Agent Paul Andrews circled the table and 
slammed his fist down on the hard oak surface. The 
files scattered beneath the rush of air and fell to 
the floor but he left them there stepping over them 
to reach the window.

    Looking out over the city below, he rested his 
forehead on the pane of glass.  His breath 
collected on the window blocking the roads from 
view but he wasn't seeing anything so he didn't 
care.  

    He didn't hear the door open or he footsteps 
approach. A voice called out his name but it didn't 
register until the heavy hand touched his shoulder.  
Turning slowly he saw AD. Skinner watching him with 
a concerned look on his face.

"Having trouble Agent Andrews?" he asked his deep 
baritone voice sounding as soothing as it ever did.

"Trouble?" Andrews snorted and stepped away from 
the window. He bent to pick up the strewn files and 
left them carelessly on the table.

"No leads yet?"

"No sir. The car came back clean, as you know. The 
door to door in the area has brought in no leads. 
The public announcement for information has led us 
in many directions but have otherwise been 
fruitless."

"Any luck with tracing the Thorazine?"

"There were 405 shipments of that drug nationwide 
with 60% of those on the east coast."  Agent 
Andrews informed him with a sigh.

"Something wrong Agent Andrews?" Skinner asked 
challengingly. "Two agents are missing, we don't 
have time to be maudlin about what we haven't 
achieved."

"I understand sir but if I had more help-"

"You have ample team members here working with 
you," Skinner began but Andrews stood to meet his 
glare.

"Agent Scully," he said flatly.

"Agent Scully has been removed from this case and 
is off duty until further notice."

"I understand sir but she has-"

"She has nothing to offer you." Skinner finished 
the conversation with tug on his tie. He frowned at 
Agent Andrews for a moment then walked out of the 
room nearly bounding into a younger man who was 
running towards the door.

"Agent Andrews! I think we found something." Simon 
Beckett excused himself past Skinner and raced over 
to Andrews showing him the file he had been 
carrying. Skinner walked back towards them and 
watched as 
Agent Beckett laid out the file sheets on the 
table.

"What is it?" Andrews asked glancing down at the 
table.

"Narrowing down the Thorazine shipments to a 
manageable amount and crossing that against east 
coast deliveries, we came across 15 medical 
institutions that received it. All bar one have 
accounted for the complete shipment."

"Which one?"

"A psychiatric unit in Belmont. After our enquiries 
they have rechecked and found ten vials of 250cl 
each missing."

"So we know where he got it from." Andrews said not 
seeing the wonderful link that Agent Beckett was 
trying to show him.

"They have surveillance footage of the robbery. It 
hadn't been checked before because they didn't 
realise it was missing. And if he needs to get some 
more it seems like a good resource for obtaining 
it."

"Lying in wait for him to run out of drugs isn't 
exactly a plan Agents," Skinner said with a tone 
that conveyed more then his tension.

"No sir but if we can recover any evidence at the 
crime scene, and plant something for him it can 
only help." 
    
Agent Beckett looked from one man to the other 
waiting for a nod to proceed. Without looking away 
from Skinners glare Andrews gave a small nod that 
was enough to make Agent Beckett run out of the 
room and get the forensic team ready.

"Are you sure you're ready for this Agent?"

"Excuse me sir?"

"This investigation cannot fail. Are you sure you 
are ready to handle that?"

"Handle it sir?" Andrews said with a derisive laugh 
as he looked away and shuffled the pages on the 
table. Gathering them up he slipped them into the 
folder and turned on his heel to leave the room.  
"I'll do everything I can to get them back. If I 
have to check door to door, every building in this 
city I'll do it. The question is sir, will you be 
able to handle it knowing you didn't do everything 
you could?"
    
Skinner stared aghast as Agent Andrews left the 
room leaving him reeling in the echo of a slammed 
door. He slowly turned towards the windows and 
looked down at traffic below.  Reaching into his 
breast pocket he pulled out his mobile and dialled 
Scully's number. 

***

Darkness...

"Scully...Scully" he called out in a dry whisper.  
His voice was hoarse from his crying and his mind 
begged for a release of horror. The foul taste of 
blood in his mouth was too familiar but there was 
nothing he could do to remove it so he used it for 
a test to make sure he was still alive. He'd thrown 
up a few times and that taste hung to his mouth 
like a thick shroud to add to his misery.
    
His tongue probed the bruised inside of his mouth 
prodding the open cuts and making him want to 
scream in pain. But as part of his mind worked on 
staying alive, on staying focused the rest of him 
called out for her. 
    
His arms ached to wrap around her, his hands ached 
to caress, her lips ached to say her name in that 
way that would make her smile. But in doing that 
she would be here. Lying on this cold damp cement 
floor with the putrid stench of faeces and blood 
that he had become to familiar with to notice.  He 
was confused as to what was real and what wasn't.

"Too late Mulder."

    Startled by the voice of his nemesis Mulder 
jumped away and tried to curl into a ball in the 
corner.  He kept his back pressed against the wall 
as he made his body into the smallest possible 
target.

"Where are you?"

"I'm right here."

    The sound came from his left and Mulder stared 
through the darkness only to see nothing.  He 
waited for the touch of cold calloused fingers on 
his skin and screwed his eyes tightly shut against 
the onslaught of sensory invasion he was expecting. 
But it never came.

"Disappointed?"

"What do you want?" Mulder asked and even he was 
surprised of the strength behind his voice.

"Something new. Something borrowed?" Jake's voice 
travelled around the room as if it were being 
thrown and for a moment Mulder wondered if he was 
hearing anything at all. 

    The sound of her body hitting the floor beside 
him wasn't one he was expecting. A soft moan 
escaped her drugged mind when she protested against 
the movement. 

"It's a new pleasure Mulder. Like nothing I've 
experienced before."

"What are you talking about?" Mulder asked not 
wanting to know but needing to.

"Before the pain...my pain...your pain...so 
physical. It seemed the only way I could feel 
alive, feel pleasure...just feel anything."

    With his still free hand Mulder fumbled along 
the ground to find her but all he could reach was 
her shoulder with the tips of his numb fingers.

"But now I see it's not just the physical pain. 
It's so much more then that. Last night while you 
cried over her dying, fragile body...I got so 
fucking hot. I never felt that good before, it 
never lasted so long before. I'm still hard."

"You sick fuck."

"But now..." With his hands barely touching her 
shoulder Mulder could still feel her body moving as 
Jake spread her legs and knelt between them.  "Can 
you feel it Mulder? Surging through your body, the 
rage the hate? The futility of it all? Feeding off 
each other and pumping you deeper into the 
darkness?"
    
As Mulder tried to block out the drone of Jake's 
evil monologue, he felt her shoulder jerking away 
from his touch, and then pushing against his hand 
only to jerk away again.  It took a moment before 
Mulder realised what was happening and then 
suddenly it became all to clear. The slapping of 
skin as Jake's thighs bumped against hers and the 
low heavy grunting as he punctuated each question 
with a heavy thrust.
    
Stunned for a moment and frozen in his spot Mulder 
remained still, waiting for the nightmare to fizzle 
before him. It couldn't be possible to be going 
through what he was but every time her shoulder 
touched his hand he felt it burn all the way 
through to his stomach. 
    
The wretched feeling that he was about to vomit and 
the utter uselessness of the situation was 
overwhelming. His shoulders slumped over and he 
pulled his hand away from her. Wanting to help her 
through this, wanting to be there for her and to be 
strong but needing to retreat to survive.

"Don't hate me Scully," he whispered into the 
darkness as he withdrew from her, from the room and 
from himself.

    Jake felt the soft bubbling sensation of desire 
when he heard Mulder crying the night before and 
the louder and more painful Mulder's howls were, 
the harder and more pleasurable his erection 
became.  Smiling and laughing with his release he 
immediately thought of how he could make the 
experience more exquisite. 
    
Now with Mulder's broken body huddled in the corner 
trying desperately to hide from it all, emanating 
even more pain and frustration then ever before, 
Jake revelled in wave after wave of pleasure he 
could feel building up inside him. God he was so 
hard. For so long he had gone without it. Without 
anything. Then at last, redemption.

"You can't stop it Agent Mulder. You can only make 
it better."

    Mulder brought his hands up to his ears and 
pressed them hard against his head blocking out the 
sound of her skin scraping on the concrete and his 
mocking breathless voice.  Rocking softly as a 
small distraction to disguise the noises that 
managed to penetrate his protective hands, he tried 
to ignore the pain in his chest but it became too 
much. 
    
Releasing his grip on his head he was surprised to 
see the noise had stopped.  Holding his breath he 
rolled over onto his back and searched the darkness 
for answers. 

"Thank you Agent Mulder," Jake whispered against 
his ear and Mulder scuffled along the ground to get 
away but Jake's heavy strong hands seized his arm 
and dragged him through the detritus on the floor 
over to where she lay. "Touch her Mulder, make it 
seem more real!" Pulling Mulder's shaking hand over 
her body and rubbing it against her breasts Jake 
laughed softly at the resistance. "Don't pretend 
you don't enjoy it!"

"Stop!" Mulder screamed and he tried to wrench his 
arm away but he was too weak to fight. Jake yanked 
his arm back and twisted it around rolling him onto 
his stomach with the force of the pull.  
    
With his face pressed hard into the concrete floor 
and his arm held up straight behind him Mulder 
couldn't move. Every twist or turn he made only 
sent shots of pain ramming into his shoulder, now 
so breathless and weak he stopped fighting. He felt 
Jake coming closer and stepping over him, kicking 
him in the side, still holding his arm in a tight 
painful grip.

"Do you think you can make a difference here? Do 
you think you could have saved her?"

"I could..." Mulder tried but even he wasn't sure.

"Do you think she was thinking about you?" he knelt 
over Mulder's shivering body and twisted his arm a 
little more. "While I was fucking her? Do you think 
it was your face that popped into her head? Was it 
your voice she heard whispering sweet nothings to 
her?"
    
Mulder ignored the agony and struggled against his 
grasp but there was nothing he could do. Jake's 
knees dug into his ribs, pain shooting fingers of 
white-hot fire all across his chest. The wind 
rushed out of his lungs and he gasped to retrieve 
it.  His heart felt like it had had the life 
crushed from it. Not that he cared now.

"You can't get away. I've not explored my fun fully 
with you yet. I have a creative mind Mulder. One I 
tend to exploit." 

    Jake leaned back, shifting his weight onto 
Mulder's stomach and pulled sharply on his arm.  
White-hot pain blinded him, as his shoulder was 
dislocated, ramming his senses and sending his 
thoughts spiraling into agony laced oblivion.  
Every nerve and sinew screamed for release as they 
exploded with the force of the pain.
    
He could feel Jake's hands roaming over his back, 
tenderly stroking and circling his bruises and then 
following the lines with his tongue.  Repulsed at 
the wet warm sensation he tossed his head away. His 
left arm lay limply by his side useless and 
throbbing, but with his other arm he reached out to 
her.
    
Her shoulder was cold and clammy and still, the 
last one being the worst of all. He wanted to crawl 
over to her, cradle her in his arms and look into 
her pale blue eyes to see the life he hoped was 
still there lingering behind them. But as quickly 
as the thought entered his head it disappeared as 
Jake's hands reached around his hips and lifted him 
onto his knees.
    
The hard floor was already cutting into his tender 
skin making fresh wounds over the old ones.  
Pulling his hand away from her as if it burned, he 
rested his forehead on the ground and interlocked 
his fingers behind his neck not wanting her to 
realize what was happening. Not wanting himself to 
accept reality of this horror. His heart begged him 
to die and his lungs condemned him.


BETA IN PROGRESS 5/6
NC-17 Readers Discretion

***

FBI Building
16th November
7.03AM

    AD. Skinner stormed through the lobby his coat flying 
behind him and his arms marching militantly by his side.  It was 
early for the arriving drones of agents, and he was glad to be 
able to march through to his office without having to plaster a 
placid smile on his face for his colleagues.  

"Walter, Walter," he heard from behind him as he was about to 
shut the outer door to his office. Turning he spotted AD. 
Douglas striding towards him.

"What can I do for you Kevin?"

"Have you managed to contact Agent Scully yet?" AD. 
Douglas stood next to him with his hands resting on his hips.

"No." Skinner opened the door further and stepped in expecting 
the other Director to follow him in. "No I haven't."

"I spoke with Agent Jones yesterday evening and he mentioned 
you were having trouble locating her."

"She was ordered on a leave of absence. I practically had to 
have her escorted from the building."

"But on the other hand her partner is missing. Do you really 
think she would take off on vacation?" Kevin Douglas paced 
the room and walked over to the drinks cabinet where he 
poured himself a glass of iced water.
    
Skinner thought of the three men Scully was probably working 
with at this very moment and thought better then to explain.  He 
removed his trench coat and hung it up on the stand by the 
window. Slipping his suit jacket off he rested that on the stand 
too before claiming his seat at his desk.

"So where is she?"

"I couldn't say." Skinner opened his case on his desk and 
pulled numerous files from it.

"Couldn't say?" Kevin Douglas finished his drink and put the 
glass down on the desk, he stared at Skinner and waited for the 
younger man to look away. But it was he who turned away first.  
He walked across the room to the door and looked back for one 
more glare but it was wasted, as Skinner didn't even look up.
    
The second he heard the door closing Skinner grabbed the 
phone and quickly dialled Scully's mobile number.  He let it 
ring the expectant 20 times before hanging up and punching in 
her home number. Again with no reply he quickly searched the 
employee database to find her mother's phone number that was 
listed in her personnel file.  This time he got a reply.

"Hello?" came the cautious sleepy response.

"Mrs Scully?"

"Yes?" Margaret Scully sat up suddenly in her bed, recognising 
the voice but not being able to put a name to it.

"This is Walter Skinner, from the FBI."

"What is it? Is it Dana? Fox? What's happened?" she clutched 
the sheet to her chest and held her breath.

"I am trying to contact Dana and I was wondering if she might 
be there with you? Or have you might have heard from her?" 

"Dana? No. I spoke to her a couple for days ago but not since." 
Able to breathe now she let the burning air out of her lungs and 
relaxed her shoulders. "Wouldn't she be with Fox?" she asked 
carefully, unsure if it would be appropriate behaviour or not.

"No. Agent Mulder has been missing for the past seven days." 
He explained the situation of the case without going into the 
details, hoping hoped if Dana had told her to keep quiet about 
her whereabouts then this information would convince her to let 
him know.

"Oh my god." She gasped.

"So as you can imagine I really need to get in touch with her."

"I haven't spoken to her. Usually when she is on a case I never 
get to speak to her until after everything has finished up and 
they are back home."  Skinner heard the bed sheets rustle as he 
imagined her standing away from the bed and starting to pace 
the length of the room. "She mentioned a new case last time we 
spoke so I didn't expect to hear from her for a while."

"Do you happen to have emergency number for her? Other then 
her mobile and house numbers?"

"Emergency numbers?"

"I think she has been working with the Lone Gunmen but I 
have no way of contacting them.  Did Dana give you a number 
for them?"
    
The pause before she said anything spoke volumes to him and 
he knew she would give it to him before she replied.

"Yes I do."

    Margaret Scully reeled off the number that Dana had 
obviously made her memorise and said a quick goodbye before 
hanging up the phone.  Skinner held the receiver between his 
shoulder and his ear as he killed the tone and dialled the 
number for the Lone Gunmen.

It rang out the first time so he tried again, this time getting 
answered on the second ring. Two-tone clicks were followed by 
a short silence and then a disguised voice identified the line as 
the Office of the Lone Gunmen.

"Could I speak to Dana Scully please?"

    Skinner could hear a scuffle after his question and before he 
could ask again the voice asked him who he was.

"I am Assistant Director Walter Skinner of the FBI."

"Well I'm afraid we have no Dana Scully working here."

"It is imperative that I speak to her, if it's not going to be on 
this line then can you get her to call me as soon as possible."

"Sorry man you got the wrong number."

    The line went dead and Skinner had no choice but to replace 
the receiver.  He could hear Kimberly in the other room setting 
up her desk for the day and he rested his head in his hands for a 
moment of peace before she walked in with the morning mail.

Too late, he realised as he heard her knocking lightly on the 
door. Looking up he saw her cross the room to him with the 
small bundle of mail and memos for his attention.

"Anything else sir?"

    With a sharp nod Skinner took the mail and Kim turned away 
and walked quickly out of the room. She didn't work as the 
secretary to the Assistant director without realising when he 
wanted to be left alone.

***

Darkness...

    Mulder was beginning to think that the silence was worse.  
Curled into a ball and sobbing softly into the wall, he wished 
for some kind of noise to disguise his weeping.  His mind 
wandered through tormenting images like a video playing out 
into his shredded soul; from days in the basement to watching a 
movie and eating takeaway, embraces shared on his couch. 
Even the odd autopsy strayed amongst the rambling thoughts 
but mostly he thought about the stakeout. The first stake out. 
The first stake out he'd shared with her.
    
Sitting in the car sharing stories with a beautiful woman while 
he nibbled his way through two bags of sunflower seeds. He 
could almost smell the seeds now, their salty odour curling it's 
way around him but then he realised it was his own stale body 
stench he could smell.
    
His dream was shattered by the reality of his surroundings. A 
cold floor covered in his own blood and other odious stuff he 
had no desire to acknowledge let alone examine. His dislocated 
shoulder ached more fiercely than ever before and with every 
intake of breath it felt as if a thousand hot needles were 
stabbing him in the chest.  Or could that just be his heart 
breaking all over again. Cradling his arms carefully across his 
chest he couldn't think of a time when he didn't hurt so much, 
feel so despairing.  He tried desperately to retrieve the calmer 
thoughts he'd bathed in earlier but the sound of oncoming 
footsteps destroyed his hope and jacked up his heart rate.
    
The door was flung open and the light from a powerful torch 
shone directly onto his face. Mulder covered himself up feeling 
the draft on his raw skin like a wave of burning lava.


"Get up." Jake stood at the door and waved the light about 
trying to stir Mulder into moving.

"I can't...my shoulder...feel too weak."

"GET UP!"
    
Mulder managed to sit up and with gargantuan effort he 
stumbled onto his knees. The pain of his raw scraped and 
bleeding knees was too mortifying to dwell on so he quickly 
forced himself up on jelly-like limbs. Feeling alone and 
vulnerable he turned towards the light with a few shaky steps.

"C'mon."

    Jake waved the light towards the ground and backed away 
from the door to let Mulder through into the narrow corridor. 
Immediately and without warning Mulder felt what was left of 
his investigative brain kick in as he scanned for any tiny details 
of the building that he might recall later. If he made it out alive. 
He wasn't even sure he wanted to at this point.  He committed 
what he could to memory anyway: The shoddy concrete finish 
that he hadn't noticed before in the utter darkness of his cell. 
The arched roof that stood maybe a foot above his head even in 
this crouched protective stance. 
    
He imagined it to be a silo yard in a farm or an underground 
shelter but he couldn't see any marks or insignias to identify it.  
Neither breezes here, nor external light could be seen from any 
direction so he figured he was underground and the stale air that 
infested his aching lungs added to this frightening conclusion.

"Where are you taking me?" Mulder asked with a tiny hoarse 
whisper.

"You'll see."
"You wont get away with this you know," Mulder muttered, but 
the effort of talking sent him into a fit of coughing.  He 
stumbled painfully against the wall and wrapped his working 
hand across his chest to stall the movements that were jarring 
his damages ribs. He tasted blood as he accidentally bit the 
inside of his cheek, shivering violently as the cold bit into his 
bare abused flesh with a thousand icy teeth.

"C'mon!" Jake Came up behind him and shoved against him on 
but his legs went out from under him and he dropped to the 
ground, hitting it hard with his face. Jake grabbed his bad arm 
and yanked him up roughly making him scream in agony. His 
shoulder flared up, shooting sharp pains across his chest 
making him cough and gasp for more air. "Shoulder acting up? 
Well we can't have that can we?" Jake laughed menacingly.
    
Jake turned him and pinned him against the wall but Mulder's 
head hung down, unable to look up.  With one hand planted 
firmly against Mulder's chest, he seized his upper arm and 
twisted it a little. Mulder's muscles screamed in pain and he 
followed suit with a verbal scream of his own.

"Hold still...this is going to hurt like hell!" With one swift tug 
followed by a hard shove, the audible "pop" of his shoulder 
going back into place rang out but was drowned by Mulder's 
deafening howl.  His eyes welled up and all the air rushed out 
of his lungs, feeling like he was being ripped apart from the 
inside out. Jake's foot slammed into his captive's stomach and 
he laughed again at the distress he caused, looking on in 
wonder as Mulder lurched over and gagged.  "So fucking hot..."
    
Jake pressed his own body against Mulder's and let one of his 
hands roam down to the agent's genitals.  Mulder whimpered as 
Jake squeezed and at the same time bit deeply into his shoulder. 
He heard a rustling noise, and something being thrown over his 
head, but didn't really register what it was until he felt the 
burning bite of rope cutting across his windpipe, and his head 
being jerked in a direction the rest of his body struggled to 
catch up with. He saw spots in front of his eyes for a few 
seconds as he gulped for oxygen.  

"No time for this now...later...we got other stuff to do first."
    
Mulder was filled with mixed feelings of relief and dread as 
Jake pulled away from him and pushed him forward, the rope 
cutting in with every wobbly step.  The corridor didn't change 
shape as they walked on and soon Mulder felt Jakes hand on his 
back steering him into another small room. The torch flicked 
off plunging them both into sheer darkness making Mulder's 
steps falter. His distressed wheezing bouncing back at him off 
the walls. 
 
"Get in."

    Before Jake had turned off the light, Mulder caught a glimpse 
of the room and saw that it was much like his own. With a 
derisive chuckle he shook his head at his own disturbed 
thoughts. Had it come to this? Assimilating the cell as his own 
as if it were a place he had booked into it voluntarily.  But 
before he could think about it anymore Jake was standing right 
behind him guiding him into the room with one hand on his 
back, reeling him by the rope, and the other finding it's way 
around his body to his stomach, then travelling down to mingle 
with his pubic hair. He wanted to throw up, but couldn't 
summon the energy.
    
Despite the cold, Mulder was surprised to find he wasn't 
shivering but with the revulsion he was feeling as Jake caressed 
him gently was driving his adrenaline through the roof.  His 
body felt as if it were burning, the heat flaring to a painful peak 
wherever Jake's hands happened to touch him. 

"You're thinking about her aren't you?" Jake whispered against 
Mulder's naval. "You're thinking how you wish it was her 
touching you like this."

"...No."

"You're thinking how you wish she was here right now."

"No!" Mulder implored more powerfully now his anger giving 
him new strength. He tried to pull away and almost 
immediately felt all his air vanish as Jake yanked harshly on the 
rope. 
    
As Jake rose up beside him, dragging his tongue over the 
agent's tortured body, Mulder clenched his hands into fists by 
his sides but as the strength drained from his fingers ,they 
slackened and he knew he was too weak to do anything. Jake 
stood before him and kissed his lips softly and when Mulder 
tried to turn away in horror, he gripped his head in place with 
two rough hands, laughing at the red bloody crescents his 
prisoner had dug into his palms. He held Mulder's feverish gaze 
like a hawk as he wrapped the rope double around his fist, 
suddenly yanking him closer.
    
Jakes tongue probed his captive's mouth viciously reaching as 
far back as he could, his fingers pressing into his jaw and 
locking his neck against the dank slimy wall.  Mulder could 
taste the alcohol from him and willed his tears to stay back.

"Fuck her."     Jake whispered the words softly as he pulled 
away from the nauseated agent. "FUCK HER!"
    
With both hands on Mulder's chest he pushed Mulder back, 
letting go of the rope at the same time. With one arm flailing 
behind him helplessly, Mulder was surprised to find his fall 
broken by a mattress on the floor. A muffled moan was heard 
from the mattress when he landed against another body, his 
hand brushing against two legs. Shuffling off the legs he bolted 
forward, unsure of where he was and searched the darkness for 
Jake.  A hand on his shoulder shoved him down onto his back 
where he could feel a body--her body touching him from 
shoulder to ankle.

"I've fucked her already. Many times, sometimes rough and 
sometimes with heartbreaking sweetness..." He added 
conversationally,  "and I've fucked you...now maybe it's time 
for you two to have fun. Come on you've wanted this. 
Fantasized about this. Jerked off to the thought of her naked 
and writhing under you.  I'm trying to be nice...Fuck her now!"

"No you can't make me!" Mulder's stony voice was low and 
menacing, but even still at the back of his mind he knew there 
was no escape.

"If you don't, I'll kill her slowly and fuck you again.... and 
again! And I'll cut you while I do it and suck the blood out of 
you as I take you."

Mulder started to sit up but the before his head could leave the 
mattress a hot stinging pain tore through his shoulder.  The 
sharp ting of a blade hitting the concrete made him freeze. 

"I'll keep stabbing you till you fuck her!" Jake growled 
menacingly and Mulder noticed his voice was circling the 
mattress. "You can do it while she's alive or dead...I don't 
care...Either way you will do what I fucking tell you. "

"No I can't...kill me if you have to-" Mulder protested but his 
voice was obscured out by the harsh loud bark of Jake laughing.

"Kill you? No way you're way too much fun. I'll kill her. Then 
MAKE you fuck her..."
    Mulder let his head roll back against the bed and closed his 
eyes. With the silence in the room and the soft but lumpy 
mattress underneath him he could almost believe he was lying 
at home on his own couch. But the stale smell that stained the 
air brought him back to reality accompanied by the hefty 
prodding Jake gave him in the ribs with his foot.  Mulder rolled 
over onto his side and faced her. As his eyes adjusted to the 
dark he could barely make out the curve of her shoulder and 
with one shaky hand he reached out to touch her. A single tear 
fell from his eye.
    
Her skin was cold and clammy to his touch but he imagined his 
own to be the same.  His fingers trailed their way across her 
protruding scapula bone to her neck. He noticed immediately 
the chain that held the gold cross around her neck was missing 
and his frown creased even deeper as he struggled to find her 
pulse. But the tiny beat, beneath the corner of her jaw that was 
too slow and weak for his liking made him for a second 
delighted to see she was still alive and at the same time 
despondent.
    
Over her mouth he felt duct tape reaching from cheek to cheek. 
Some of her hair stuck down with it. He felt for it's edge but as 
he tried to peel it away Jake started to laugh.

"Do you think it'll make a difference to hear her talk? Will her 
voice make you hard enough to fuck her?"

    Ignoring the voice, Mulder carefully peeled the tape away 
from her mouth and let his fingers settle, barley touching her 
lips. He wasn't surprised at how dry and cracked they were and 
he wanted to roll her into his arms and take her from this 
nightmare. But he was afraid to touch her more than tentatively; 
irrationally afraid he might break her. His heart's painful 
thudding seem to be saying the she was broken already.

"Scully..." he whispered against her ear and almost instinctively 
one of his legs came up to cover her. Resting his thigh across 
her pelvic bone and one arm across her breasts he covered her 
as much he could before saying her name again. "Scully?" He 
hoped his body could afford a little warmth or comfort,
    
His free hand brushed her tousled hair from her face, smoothing 
it out behind her head but still she made no response. She was 
so still now; like she was dead and that thought pierced him 
straight in the heart. He stayed where he was for a moment 
protecting her as much he could, whispering softly into her ear. 
Murmurs to keep her mind off the nightmare she was living. 
Half hoping she was dead and away from all this horror, and 
despair at how alone he would feel if she was gone. He didn't 
even know if she could hear him. He imagined she was so 
drugged she wasn't aware of anything around her and he was 
grateful for it. Almost lying in the recovery position over her he 
suddenly realised that her feet were touching his and her head 
was right next to his brow. 
    
He'd always noticed how Scully could change her height 
depending on the shoes she was wearing. But working with her 
at home, or while watching a video, when and she'd slip off her 
shoes, wiggle her stockinged feet and stretch them out onto a 
table in front of them; he always loved the way they only came 
up to his shin.  Then as the hours passed she would slide lower 
on the couch and turn her feet towards him as she rested her 
head on his shoulder.
    
He lifted his hand up to her face again and let his fingers 
explore her features. Trying hard to keep his weakened mind 
focused, he shut his eyes tightly.  Her hair was a little rough and 
matted with blood and other stuff he hated to think about, but 
he imagined if she'd been getting the same treatment as he was, 
it wouldn't be at it's softest.  Her nose, lips and chin were 
scrapped, cracked and bloody but he couldn't tell if it really was 
her or not.
    
Then he moved his foot a little more and felt her toes. She was 
definitely as tall as him. Sudden realisation burned his resolve 
and he cursed himself for getting dragged into the deception.

"No." He cried out flatly holding her even closer if he could, 
and trying to protect her even more.

"What?" Jake demanded incredulously, looming over him; 
Mulder could sense him. Mulder heard him walking over and 
braced himself for the attack.

"It's not her. I won't do it."
    
Jake barked out a harsh sharp mirthless laugh that carried only 
rage. 

"So if it was her you would?" He grabbed Mulder's arm and 
pulled him away from her viciously. Her body fell limply from 
Mulder's arms as he was dragged across the gritty floor to the 
other wall.
    
He listened to Jakes footsteps as he crossed the room and 
rummaged through a bag of some kind. The torch he lit was 
wide and powerful lighting up the room more then Mulder had 
ever seen it. He squinted against its painful intrusion like he'd 
been shot.
    
Crumpled in a messy pile against the other wall was Blake's 
battered and bloodied body.  Her abused form lay in an 
awkward position with her arms flung over her head and her 
legs bent like a rag doll's beneath herself.
    
His chest hitched as his eyes took in the scrapes and bloody 
stab wounds he imagined matched his own back and was 
covered in. He closed his eyes to look away from the horror.  
Ashamed at the sense of relief he was feeling when he saw the 
tall slender brunette lying on the floor, instead of his Scully, he 
tried to lurch away from her.
    
Jake stalked over to him with the torch and shone it directly 
into his face burning his eyes even though they were closed. 
With a closed fist he swung his arm in an uppercut motion, 
connecting with Mulder's jaw. His head flew back with the 
impact and connected with the concrete wall. Shakily leaning 
forward Mulder spat the blood from his mouth and looked up to 
Jake's madly smiling face.

"You think it's over?" Jake laughing again, a shrill sound 
Mulder hated.

"It is over. Fuck you, I won't play...your games, you sick 
fucking moron."

"No. Not by a long shot."

    Jake grabbed him by the hair and dragged him back over 
towards Blake's body. Mulder held onto his grip holding his 
arm in place to save himself the pain of the rope digging into 
his neck, but as Jake released him and threw him to the ground 
there was nothing he could do to stop his face connecting with 
the floor in a horrendous crescendo of pain.

    Jake stepped over Blake's cold body and straightened her legs 
out. He straddled her, bracing himself with a knee either side of 
her torso and grabbed her face roughly.  
    
Spitting out even more blood and wiping his mouth with the 
back of his hand, Mulder looked up in time to see Jake's face 
contorting angrily. His fingers and hands shook with the force 
of his grip on her face, fingernails causing bloody welts on her 
cheeks and Mulder's mouth open up in a silent scream. Mulder 
watched as the wounds on Jake's body started to heal over and 
Blake's wounds began to bleed profusely.

Blinking through the pain and confusion rife in his head, 
he looked closer to see if he was really seeing what was 
happening. Then suddenly Jake's body slumped heavily over 
hers covering her upper body and breathing deeply. A damp 
sweaty brow glanced over towards Mulder and he smiled a 
wide wicked grin that spilt his face in a grotesque caricature.

Panting heavily Jake pushed himself back onto his 
haunches and looked over to Mulder's astounded face. Letting 
his hands roam over the fading cuts on his chest Jake looked 
down to see the last of them disappear.

"What's going on? ...What the fuck are you?" Mulder blurted, 
backing away from him as his captor moved slowly off her 
body.  He could see her face with her glassy unmoving eyes and 
parted lips and he knew as surely as the stomach dropped out of 
him, she was gone.

"Much...better..." Jake crooned between breaths.
    
He crawled after Mulder for a moment on all fours, but as the 
mortified agent hit the wall with nowhere else to go Jake halted 
his pursuit.  He hung his head low for a few moments and 
Mulder knew he was gathering strength by the mad stare and 
the almost luminous whites of his eyes. Whatever power he 
gleamed from Agent Blake's dying body, Mulder realised it 
would take time for it to work fully. He knew he had a chance. 
A chance to fight back. A chance to fight at all. And he had to 
take it with what little strength he still possessed.
    
Placing both of his hands onto the wall behind him and rolling 
onto the balls of his feet Mulder prepared to pounce.  Counting 
himself in and shaking the fear from his scattered mind he 
propelled himself off the wall. Emitting a raw howl, he grabbed 
Jake's shoulders and pushed him down onto his back while 
driving his knee high into his chest. 
    
Mulder's knee hit Jakes breastbone and moved up to connect 
with his chin throwing his head back to impact heavily with the 
floor.  Still screaming, Mulder punched him in the face and held 
his arm back to hit him again.
    
But Jake's hand came up and blocked it. He held Mulder's fist 
in the palm of his hand and tossed him back with enough force 
to throw the Agent off him completely. Mulder fell back onto 
the ground and braced himself for the onslaught but Jake never 
followed through. 

"You're a fighter?" Jake's mocking laughter stung his ears. 
"Why are you only fighting now?" Jake stood over him and 
gave him a vicious kick in the back. "Why haven't you been 
fighting all this time?"
    
Mulder knew he was trying to break his spirit, trying to make 
him weaker mentally as well as physically. Making him feel 
like it was his own entire fault he was in this situation and that 
there was no hope for redemption. He tried hard not to believe 
him, not to listen to his cutting words but it was no use. He 
already believed it was his fault.
    
Jake kicked him again and again in the back, chest and head. 
Mulder's mouth filled with blood that dribbled helplessly from 
his parted, dry lips, spurting with every kick he received in the 
chest.  His head thumped mercilessly against this latest savage 
beating, but even as he tried to cover himself with his arms he 
felt his shoulder pop and the pain intensified across his chest.
    
Jake stepped back; panting from the beating he was giving out, 
he wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm and knelt down 
beside the silenced agent. Twisting the rope again tightly in his 
hands and pulling, Mulder's one working eye acknowledged.


"How does it feel to be the reason she died?" He whispered into 
his ear, licking the side of his bloody face as he stood.
    
Mulder shuddered against the contact, his head ducking 
involuntarily under his arm. The blood he could taste was 
making him nauseous but he didnt think he had the strength left 
to vomit. It was a Herculean effort just to breathe. He tried to 
stay awake as Jake grabbed his hair and dragged him out of the 
cell but as his limp and beaten body was thrown into his own 
stinking hovel again, he met the ground with a dark 
unconscious, feeling nothing anymore.

***    

FBI Building
19th November
10.04AM

    AD. Skinner stormed through the halls ignoring the curious 
glances from the other agents. Opting for the stairs, he pounded 
his way up to the third floor hoping the delay would give him a 
chance to cool down but instead with every step he took his 
anger grew fiercer.  He barged through the stairwell door onto 
the third floor and took a sharp left past the coffee dock and 
into the conference room. 
    
Agent Andrews looked up startled as the AD. paced towards 
him staring at him evenly and slammed his hands onto the table 
in front of him. 

"AD. Skinner...what can I do for you?" Andrews asked calmly.  
All the other agents in the room stopped what they were doing 
and turned to the scene waiting to watch it unfold.

"Where is she?" Skinner asked quietly but his voice was 
dripping with barely controlled anger through his clenched 
teeth.

"Sir?"

"Where is she?" he repeated this time a little louder. "Where is 
Agent Scully?"

"You sent her away from this case on a leave of absence." 
Andrews replied accusingly.

"I know you've been working with her." For a second or so 
Andrews was mesmerised by the pronounced twitch of 
skinner's jaw.

    Taking a measured breath, Agent Will Andrews stood away 
from the table and led AD. Skinner into a side room where the 
projector was stored. The tall AD. watched him struggle with 
his words for a moment and in an instant felt his anger 
dissipating.

"She asked me not to tell you."

"I know. I knew she would. But this is gone beyond the usual 
behind the boss' back."

"Sir, she's been working with me and Agent Beckett on the 
case. Most of the progress we've made with the Thorazine angle 
was because of her."

"Where has she been working?"
"I'm not sure. She wouldn't tell me but she has access to a lab." 
Andrews ran a stray hand through his tousled locks and looked 
up to Skinner's angry, worried face. "We've been meeting and 
exchanging information but she's been doing the brunt of her 
work alone...or rather without FBI recourses."

"Ok. I know who she is working with but I'm not sure of the 
exact location. Next time you're talking to her can you get her 
to call me. It's urgent."

"It's been ten days sir." Andrews reminded quietly before 
Skinner could turn away. "Ten days since he went missing and 
no phone calls, no notes or warnings. Demands" Skinner looked 
like he'd been sucker punched.

"I know." Skinner looked down to the ground and imagined for 
a moment the horror she was going through...dear god and 
Mulder. Burying herself in the case in the hope to uncover that 
vital clue that no one else could, the dismay of not being with 
him before he was gone and the repulsion of going on without 
him, giving up, closing the case and moving on, without 
knowing his fate. Not that she ever would, he realised. "Ask her 
to call me as soon as she can."
    
Skinner retreated through the door, his gait out of the room 
slower than when he entered with, his head hung a little lower 
and his mind elsewhere.

***

Office of the Lone Gunmen
19th November
10.30AM

    Frohike stretched out lazily on the small lumpy couch and 
wrapped the woollen blanket a little tighter around his cold 
body. On the floor next to him was Langly who was leaning on 
a cushion but without a blanket, he held his arms across his 
chest to keep the cold at bay. 
    
From his vantage point at the desk, Byers could see them both 
but he declined the offer from Frohike to bunch up and make 
room for him. Instead he stayed by his PC and worked with 
Agent Scully through the whole night. It was 3 or 4 AM before 
the others crashed onto the couch and floor but he imagined 
they'd be up soon.  Another sigh of frustration from Scully 
brought his focus back and he turned to see her burying her 
head into her hands.

"Agent Scully?" he asked tenderly. "You okay?"

"Yes. I guess I just need another hit of coffee." She replied 
weakly. Her complexion was paler then usual, her eyes without 
their sparkle and her lips without a smile. He watched as she 
stood away from the table and made her way over to the 
makeshift kitchen and poured yet another cup of tepid coffee 
only to go back to her PC and focus on it again.

"Maybe you should get some rest." He ventured carefully. Last 
night when Frohike had offered her a lift home to get some 
sleep she had all but shouted at him that she wouldn't be 
sleeping till it was all over.

"No. I can't." She whispered in reply keeping her eyes on the 
screen. 

"Agent Scully..." Byers said after a long silence. "It's been ten 
days since he went missing."

"Does that mean we should give up?" She bit back angrily. 
"Would he give up on me?"

"No. No he wouldn't." Byers conceded, tuning back to his pc as 
the phone rang loudly between them making them both jump. 
"Hello?" Byers asked cautiously knowing Langly would kill 
him for not switching on the line tracer.

"It's Agent Andrews. I need to speak to Agent Scully."
    
Byers covered the mouthpiece on the receiver with the palm of 
his hand and passed it over towards her. "It's Agent Andrews. 
He wants to speak to you!"

Taking the phone Scully stood up from her chair and brushed 
the loose hair behind her ear. "Agent Andrews. What is it?"

"AD. Skinner wants you to call. He says it's urgent."

"What has he got?"

"Nothing. Except a whole lot of anger."

"Did Agent Becket come up with anything on the robbery 
tapes?"

"He got the image cleaned up a lot and it's a definite match. He 
also lifted two partial prints from the boxes he left behind."

"Any match yet?" she asked hopefully but already knowing the 
answer.

"No," came the reluctant reply.

"I'm going to see Skinner now. Let me know if anything comes 
up."

"Of course."

    Scully handed the phone back to Byers and slipped on her 
jacket. She ran her fingers through her hair a couple of times 
and dry washed her face to stay focused.

"I have to go for a while."

"Ok. We'll keep checking the Thorazine angle. I know we're 
missing something there," Byers said glancing up timidly as she 
walked away. As she shut the door behind her Frohike jumped 
up, his hair awry and his glasses crooked on his face.

"Where's she gone?" he asked immediately. Worry lined his 
face regarding his two hurting friends, the one just left and the 
one...still missing, going through god knew what.

"She got a call from Agent Andrews and had to leave. 
Something is up."
    
***

Darkness...

    The smell was different. It was the first thing he noticed as 
his mind struggled to catch up with his badly beaten body. His 
left eye had been swollen shut and the shoulder that had been 
dislocated pumped burning pain across his chest. The skin 
across his throat was raw from the rope, and it made him gasp 
as he tried to swallow, but through it all he locked onto the 
knowledge that the smell was different. 
    
With great effort he managed to open his right eye and hold it 
open long enough to scan the room.  It was a smaller room then 
he was usually in and there was a thin shaft of light blasting 
through a small window that was in the middle of the opposite 
wall near the ceiling. The filthy room was completely empty 
and the only exit was a large wooden door to his left.
    

Mulder let his head drop down to the ground and let his lungs 
take in as much of the stale air as they could before expelling it 
slowly through his dried, cracked lips.  Running his tongue over 
them did nothing so he concentrated on his breathing and tried 
to ignore the pain that seeped into every muscle in his body. His 
legs were like lead weights, bruised and battered and useless.  
Lifting his head enough to look down to his toes he wiggled 
them lightly and smiled at their little dance. 
    
Beside him his arm was stretched out, his shoulder at the 
awkward angle he recognised from before.  Not daring to move 
it he quickly assessed the rest of his body, finding his ribs 
excruciatingly painful and sore and deep wounds still bleeding 
from his shoulder, close to his old bullet wound. 

    Letting his fingers trace the uneven edges of the old scar he 
was reminded of Scully's face. The sad and worried smile on 
her lips as he came to and she'd tended his injuries and cared 
for him. But she wouldn't be fluffing his pillows for him this 
time, he realised with a sigh as his head dropped to the ground 
again with a heavy thud.    
    
He took a few more breaths then with one sharp intake he 
somehow pushed his body from the ground and sat up. His 
shoulder flared up in protest but he ignored it, using the 
adrenaline rush to push himself onto his knees, hissing at the 
discomfort.  His left arm hung limply by his side as he used the 
other to balance off the wall and attempt to stand up.
    
The room swam in a wave of blurriness and multicoloured 
abstraction, spinning like a merry- go -round gone crazy as he 
tried to steady himself but before he could stop it the 
groundswell of nausea pushed it's way up from his empty 
stomach.  He buried his face into his shoulder, holding his 
mouth tightly closed but there was nothing his body could do 
against the tide of vomit. 
    
Still holding onto the wall he coughed up the vulgar mixture of 
bile and blood, coughing in spasms as his stomach continued to 
rebel painfully even though there was nothing left to throw up.
    The hacking coughs forced him to take deeper breaths than 
he would have liked, the taste of the bad musty air almost 
sending him into nauseous convulsions again. But he somehow 
managed to stave them away, riding out the pain in his ribs 
from his stomach contents exodus.  
    
Careful to avoid the mess he'd left on the ground he inched his 
way back across the room and stood beneath the window.  
Standing up as straight as he could he reached up but couldn't 
reach the ledge. He didnt have the strength to jump up but even 
if he had, he knew he was in no state to hold himself up to look 
out. His legs were threatening to buckle beneath him and his 
heart gave a sickening lurch as what he'd been subjected to 
played out in his mind's eye like a horror movie.
    
With his back against the wall he slid down to the ground and 
stretched his legs out in front of him. His breathing became 
ragged and shallow as he remembered the sensation of her 
blood splattering onto his skin.  Her cold body jerking and 
kicking away from him as Jake attacked her with the knife...and 
the awful knowledge and guilt that there was nothing he could 
do.
    
The relief that washed over him when he realised it wasn't 
Scully was palpable but it was quickly dismissed by the 
overwhelming feeling of guilt that heightened with every swipe 
of Jake's knife into her torso. All this time when Agent Blake 
had been lying next to him, all he could think of was Scully and 
how he could save her. Never once did his mind wander 
towards Agent Blake and wonder how she was surviving or if 
she had managed to at all.
    
His body shook with tears that he'd been holding back but now 
suddenly didnt have the strength to.  But even as he cried he 
knew there was hope. More hope then he had felt since he'd 
entered this nightmare.  If Scully wasn't lying beside him last 
night and wasn't trapped somewhere in this prison then she was 
out there. Looking for him.

***

The end of part 5.

Part 6a 
***

FBI Building
19th November
11.40AM

    Skinner opened the door immediately after Scully 
gently knocked on it. His face was screwed up with 
worry and anger and she wasn't entirely sure if it 
was all directed at her. He took her by the elbow and 
led her over to a corner of the office where he 
poured her a glass of water all without speaking.
    
She silently took the drink and walked with him back 
to his desk where he sat next to her in the visitor's 
seats.  Worried now she put the drink on the desk and 
turned to face him, wanting to meet whatever he had 
to say face on.

"What. Say it. Just say it." Her eyes closed over to 
block out the image of his anxious face and her heart 
braced itself for the ambush of emotions she was 
going to have to hold back.

"I think he has got someone working on the inside."

"What?" Flinging her eyes open she fixed him with an 
angry incredulous glare.

"There have been some discrepancies in the case." AD 
Skinner stood up and walked around behind the chairs 
where his hands found their way to his hips and he 
paced slow even steps across the calm cream carpet. 
"It's not clear exactly what has happened but some 
evidence is missing. Some of the CCTV tapes have been 
tampered with and all records of Mulder's phone calls 
have disappeared."


"Who?" she choked out, standing now she watched him 
pace like a caged animal.

"I don't know. But it goes right back to the start of 
the case. Even before Mulder was assigned. I think 
that's one of the reasons he was having trouble with 
the profile. So much conflicting information and with 
parts of it absent."

"Agent Blake?" Scully queried carefully.

"No. It's higher. It has to be. She was tracing the 
same cold trails Mulder was."    Skinner walked 
around to his own side of the desk and slumped 
heavily into the seat. His glasses were pulled off 
roughly and he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his 
hands. "I'm going to call Agent Andrews in here and I 
want you two to see if you can find out what's going 
on."

"Yes sir."

"Kim, can you call Agent Andrews and ask him to come 
up here immediately please?" he said into the 
intercom.

"When did you notice the discrepancies sir?"

"The night before last. I was reviewing a report from 
Agent Beckett and I pointed out to him that there 
were tapes missing. He said he hadn't reviewed those 
tapes. When we went down to the evidence storage to 
retrieve them they were gone."

"And the cameras in the storage room showed nothing?" 
Scully asked her mind whirling with new information.

"They malfunctioned between the hours of 3 and 4am."

"If he called Mulder using Agent Blake's phone did 
someone trace the other calls from that number?"

"Yes. Agent Andrews was working on that but it ran 
cold. With a cell phone it's always harder to trace, 
but just when he thought he might be getting 
somewhere the trail dropped out from under him."

"More tampering?" 

"Yes. It has to be."
    
A sharp knock on the door preceded Will Andrews's 
brisk entrance. He started at the sight of Scully 
sitting across from Skinner who was replacing his 
glasses and gesturing towards the chair next to her.

"There is a problem with the case."

"Sir?" he glanced between them both questioningly and 
waited for one of them to continue.
"Someone on the team has been feeding information to 
the suspect, tampering with evidence and even 
removing some from the investigation altogether." 
Skinner watched him carefully for a reaction but 
Andrews' face darkened in anger, the same anger he 
felt when he himself found out, he realised.

"What?" Sitting up straighter Andrews leaned forward 
as he spoke to Skinner.

"There are tapes missing. And Mulders phone records."

"Has someone checked the evidence room cameras?"

"They were malfunctioning."

    Agent Andrews stood up form the chair and walked 
away from the wide desk shaking his head in 
frustration. With his hand running rampant trails 
through his hair he turned on his heel to face them 
both.

"This is crazy. This case has been going on since the 
assaults in New York 2 years ago. Why now?"

"The escalation of the crimes only started a couple 
of weeks ago." Scully added. "It's only recently that 
he has resorted to murder. Possibly because of a 
contact-"

"So you are saying someone deliberately went to seek 
him out to get Agent Blake? Agent Mulder?"

"Possibly. It's a theory. Wouldn't be the first time 
this has happened." Scully defended sadly. "Maybe it 
had nothing to do with Mulder. Maybe Agent Blake was 
the prime target."

"Maybe Agent Blake was the bait for Agent Mulder," 
Andrews countered. "If it was someone who knew his 
work, her work-"

"Have we reviewed her other cases?" Scully asked 
looking between them both.

"Get on it." Skinner barked as he picked up the phone 
and dismissed them with a curt nod. Knowing he didn't 
need to tell them to keep it under wraps he waited 
for their exit before dialling the internal 
extension.
"Hello. AD Barnes's office." The curt reply was from 
an elderly receptionist.

"This is AD. Walter skinner. I'd like to talk with 
Robert please. Is he in?"

"He's in a meeting at the moment. Can I ask him to 
call you back?"

"Please. Would you tell him it's urgent?" Skinner 
implored. 

"Yes sir."

    Sitting back in his chair with the phone resting 
on its hook he watched it. Waiting for it to ring. 

***

Darkness...

    Jake rolled out of the camp bed and slipped on a 
pair of boots.  He loved the feel of the cold air on 
his bare skin, and stood stretching by his bed to let 
the currents of air from the half open window caress 
his body.  Still smiling as the memories of the night 
before circled his mind, Jake reached for his comb 
and walked over to the large tarnished mirror.
    
Carefully combing his hair into a side parting he 
inspected it form every angle before being satisfied. 
Glancing down at the reflection of his chest he 
fingered the places where his scars should have been 
and smiled wickedly.  Scratching his chest idly he 
walked back towards the bed and rummaged through a 
small sports bag. When he found the phone he'd been 
searching for he quickly dialled a number and lounged 
lazily onto the bed to await the answer.  The small 
bed creaked and groaned under his weight but he 
ignored the noise as he found a comfortable spot. 
With one hand holding the mobile to his ear the other 
was bent back beneath his head and under the 
threadbare pillow.

"Hello?"

"She's dead."

"I told you not to call me. I'd contact you."
"Yeah? Well I don't give a fuck. What do you want me 
to do with him?" Jake's hand roamed down his flat 
stomach to his pubic hair where his fingers gently 
teased himself into an erection.

"He's not dead?" came the angered reply.

"No," Jake almost purred as his eyes closed over in 
pleasure and he held his cock his hand, stroking it 
gently.

"Jesus Christ, Palmer. Kill him. And Kill him 
quickly."

"Quickly?" Jake laughed. "But where is the fun in 
that?"

"There is a team of Agents out looking for them. I've 
done what I can on this end but they are onto you. 
They have prints and pictures from the pharmacy 
robbery."

"Well you do your job and I'll do mine."

"I'm doing all I can Palmer, but they are working 
fast. It won't be long before they find out who you 
are."

"Listen to me! You got me into this!" Jake bit back 
angrily sitting up quickly and pulling on his cock 
harder. "You called me, you asked me to kill him."

"And you haven't yet."

"Well I needed him. I needed the release. He's a fun 
toy prize." Jake felt the welling up of power in the 
pit of his stomach and he knew he wouldn't be able to 
last for much longer. The image of sweat soaked 
Mulder lying huddled in the dark cell, blood dripping 
from his mouth and the furrowed crease in his brow 
almost sent him over the edge but he resisted the 
breathtaking lure.

"You're going to get caught and you're going to bring 
me down with you."
    Jake laughed as much as his constricted lungs 
would allow. 

"Get caught?" he felt the rise push against his hand, 
throbbing mercilessly as it begged to be set free. 
"...Only if you...fuck up."
"Kill him. And get the fuck out of there." The voice 
hissed with a barely controlled anger before ending 
the call, with the loud clatter of his hand piece 
connecting with the cradle.
    
Jake held the phone up to his ear listening to the 
broken dial tone as he pulled faster and harder on 
himself letting the release take over and his muscles 
contract against the discharge.
    
He fell back onto the springy bed panting past his 
smile for a few moments as the conversation sunk in 
with the deep feeling of satiation, the air drying 
the sweat on his back until his skin tightened.   But 
all too quickly the moment had passed and he had no 
way to reclaim it. The image of Mulder's huddled 
broken body sprang into his mind like a sunburst and 
with a crooked smile Jake pushed himself off the bed.
"Kill him. I will." He muttered as he sauntered from 
the room hoping Mulder would enjoy his midnight gift.

***    

Mulder basked in what little light the small 
window offered him before he pushed himself up off 
the floor and spat the blood and grit from his mouth. 
He was so cold, both in his mind and deep down in his 
bones. So intertwined that he had no idea where this 
utter frigidity melded. His teeth chattered 
uncontrollably and he almost bit his tongue.

Through the window there was only moonlight 
shining through. It was a strange sight to him and he 
watched in surreal fascination at the way it turned 
his skin a pale colour. 

In the darkness the shadows played across the 
wall forming faces he knew and faces he didn't. All 
watching him, glaring their disapproval at him. 
Looking away, he focused on the window, watching as 
the light sharpened the corners of the window frame. 
The shadows faded and for a moment he relaxed his 
eyes to take in the rest of the room.

Then he saw her.

She stood in the corner her back to him and her 
head lowered. Her red hair covered her face and she 
made no move to turn to him. He daren't call out her 
name for fear that she would disappear, or worse. 
That she wouldn't.

His shoulder ached with raw powerful pain that 
held his arm captive against his chest. He managed to 
push himself to his knees and stumbled forward to 
balance himself off the wall as he struggled to stand 
up fully.  He rested his forehead against the 
freezing wall as he held his breath and waited for 
the shooting pains to subside.  His eyes screwed shut 
against the torrent of hot pain that almost 
overwhelmed him but managed to stagger towards her, 
his shoulder grating against the wall as he moved.

"Scully," he mumbled softly his voice only a whisper 
echoing his naked fears around the room. She didn't 
move. His heart lurched in his chest banging against 
his tender ribs and his ears filled with the silence.
    
Reaching a shaky hand out to her, he gently touched 
her shoulder and turned her towards him but as he did 
she spun on her heels and faced him fully making him 
stumble back and fall down. 
    
Clouds of dust permeated the already stale air making 
him cough as he backed away from her on his haunches.  
She walked towards him and as she stepped into the 
light he gasped in horror at her featureless face.  
Just a flat plane of colourless skin where her baby 
blue eyes and rosy red lips should have been. One 
hand came up to touch him, and her scream reached 
into him like an icy tendril piecing him through the 
heart.     

Mulder woke with a start. The sweaty remains of his 
nightmare trailing it's way down his face and back. 
Heart galloping like a thoroughbred. 

Glancing nervously around the room her shook the 
terrifying images from his head and attempted to 
stand up. With great effort he managed to heave 
himself onto his sore and bloodied feet where he 
looked around for the door. 

His ribs protruded awkwardly from his side and 
he knew the damage there would take a while to repair 
but recuperation wasn't something he wanted to think 
about. Recuperation meant facing his injuries. 
Explaining his injuries. Determining how they 
occurred.  And that wasn't something he was prepared 
to acknowledge yet let alone verbalize to another 
person. Like a warning not to think anymore, his 
stomach rebelled.

With a few shaky steps across the room he made 
it to the door and reached out for the handle, but 
the footsteps in the hallway were getting closer and 
it was too late to back away as his body offered him 
no speed or agility.  The door opened quickly but 
quietly and Jake stepped in. His eyes darted around 
the room until they found Mulder's body slumped 
heavily against the wall to his left. Mulder's head 
was bent low with his chin resting on his chest. His 
breathing was shallow, shocky. Two eyes dark with 
pain and terror gawked back at him, shiny in the dim 
light. Jake grinned from ear to ear. 

"Come on."
    
Jake held the door open further and motioned with his 
head for Mulder to follow. Without looking up Mulder 
knew what he was supposed to do but his legs refused 
to comply. His heart felt like some manic creature 
stealing all the air in his chest and bruising his 
ribs. He heard Jake's steps approach and somehow 
dragged his head up in time to see the dirty hand 
seize his forearm.

"I can't have you going out in that state," Jake 
hissed into his ear as he pulled him out of the room 
quickly, too quickly. His feet stumbled beneath him 
and he fell awkwardly in the corridor bashing his 
head against the wall on his way down. Everything 
spun and lights flashed.

"Fuck sake." Jake pulled him up onto his feet and 
dragged him further down the corridor into a smaller 
well-lit room by the rope that Mulder realised he was 
still wearing.
    
Blinking the light from his eyes Mulder strained to 
see his surroundings and as it slowly came into 
focus, he recoiled at the sight of the bath.
    
It was a stand-alone thing more like an animal trough 
that stood in the centre of the room and was filled 
with steaming hot water. The rest of the room was 
tilled with large cream tiles that had seen better 
days, mildew glistening back at him from every angle. 
On the other side against the wall was a gate leaning 
off its hinges.  Mulder recognised it as a cattle 
gate and wondered if that meant he was on a farm, 
near a farm?
    
Before he could process these thoughts he felt Jake's 
clammy hand trail its way down his back and cup his 
ass.  Mulder flinched against his touch and dry 
heaved. As he shifted towards the bath to get away 
from him.

"Get in. FBI pretty boy. I'll be back in a minute."
    
Surprisingly Jake left the room and Mulder stood 
still for a moment unable to think his way through to 
an idea of what to do. Something seemed to be 
blocking all rational thought except the urge to 
regurgitate bile. He stumbled around the room, 
feverishly checking the walls for weaknesses but it 
seemed it was another concrete shell with no windows 
and only one heavy steel door.  With a halting sigh 
that betrayed his fears Mulder approached the bath, 
dipped in his shaking hand and tested the water with 
a little splash.
    
He noticed there was no taps so the water must have 
been carried in manually and it was quite warm and 
clean.  But in no way was it inviting. Instead of 
steeping into it's warmth Mulder cupped his hands 
beneath the water and brought them up to his face. He 
rubbed his cheeks and forehead vigorously as if he 
could remove the memories along with the dirt and 
grime. Splashing it back over his head he ruffled his 
hair and rubbed his face again. Suddenly his hands 
were grabbing fistfuls of water and he was emptying 
the bath over him, his breath sucking in and out of 
his lungs like a marathon runner.  A sound at the 
door made him look up in time to see Jake looming in 
the doorway with a wire brush in his hand and a 
sinful smile staining his lips. Mulder's eyes 
blanched at the object in his hand and all air left 
his lungs. 
    
Mulder's muscles contracted with anger as Jake 
approached him and before Jake could brace himself, 
Mulder jumped up and away from the bath with a feral 
howl and charged towards him. 
    
His shoulder tore at him as he bounced off Jake's 
chest sending the small man into an ungainly heap 
against hard floor. Mulder saw his head impact off 
the tiles but didnt stop to examine it further. He 
barrelled out of the open door slamming it shut 
behind him. Tearing away from his own cell he raced 
down the corridor with a speed he didnt think his 
body possessed, sucking in gulps of air, adrenaline, 
ignoring the pain and to his careful delight he didnt 
hear anyone behind him.
    
Running past closed doors; he didn't bother to check 
if they were open but just continued to bolt. He 
feared he was running deeper into his "prison" but 
nothing could stop his legs from pumping him as far 
away from the horror as he could. He felt his left 
knee buckle as he took a sharp turn to the left and 
hit the coarse ground with his chest. It took all his 
effort not to scream out in pain and he somehow 
managed to scramble to his feet and continue running. 
No time to worry if he just punctured a lung.
    
Jake lay still against the cold tiles dazed and 
confused at his surroundings for a moment until he 
realised what had happened. He struggled to stand 
gingerly touching the back of his head only to find a 
few spots of blood on his fingers.
    
His laugh was unexpected and bubbled in his stomach 
before it managed to make it's way past his lips.  
Walking slowly over to the door he stood in the dark 
hallway and spotted the wet trail of footprints 
Mulder had left in his wake.

"You can't hide from me!" he shouted half-heartedly 
with a strange confidence. "Spirited fucker."
    
Mulder heard nothing but his pounding heart as he 
finally skidded to a halt at the end of a corridor. 
The doors had run out and gasped from exhaustion and 
pain. With the remaining door right in front of him 
he took a deep breath and hoped it would be open. 
Instinctively his hand reached behind his back for 
his gun and he almost smiled at the absurdity of the 
situation. 
    
Naked, hurt and alone his hand reached for the 
circular metal doorknob and turned it slowly, biting 
back a sob. To his utmost relief the handle turned 
fully and the door opened up on the outside world 
like a slap in the face. He checked behind him once 
more before slipping out of the door and closing it 
quietly behind him.
    
Jake made his way back to his room and pulled on a 
pair of black trousers. He tugged a jumper over his 
head and fumbled through the black bag. Finding what 
he was looking for he calmly walked out the door and 
made his way to a small hidden staircase that 
spiralled up onto an open barn floor.
    
He watched with amusement as Mulder crept through the 
door and crouched behind a bail of hay taking a 
moment to steal his breath as his eyes darted around 
the new environment.  Jake stood still in the shadows 
studying the panting man as he clasped his left arm 
to his chest and slowly made his way towards the 
door. Waiting for the perfect moment to pounce, Jake 
let him negotiate his way around the large rusted 
tractor across the barn and over to the outer door.
    
Mulder felt the cool fresh breeze of freedom 
caressing his battered skin and rejoiced in the 
swirling air currents. Taking as deep a breath as his 
injured and protesting lungs would allow he basked in 
the cleanness of it, closing his eyes with relief. 
Jake suddenly stood away from the darkness standing 
only eight feet away from him, his hands in his 
pockets and his lips pursed with a silent whistle. 
    
The handle to the barn door was a large plank that 
had been latched across it.  With a struggle Mulder 
managed to pull it loose. When the freezing air hit 
him he wasted no time he and launched himself out 
onto the soft grass that felt like silk beneath his 
tortured feet. His eyes swelled up with tears as he 
squinted against the rush of air but Mulder knew it 
was more then that. 
    
Studying the landscape he could see no lights on the 
horizon but the sight of the moon had never looked 
more beautiful and was enough to spur him on. His 
heart burst in his chest, pounding heavily against 
his ribs as he staggered towards the moon keeping it 
ahead of him until he reached an evil looking barbed 
wire fence.

"Can't get under it, can't get over it."

    Mulder spun as if shot at the sound of Jake's 
voice but with little or no light he couldn't see 
him. The rustle of the grass beneath his feet as the 
wind whispered softly across the ground disguised his 
movements. 

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Mulder railed into the darkness, 
his voice breaking with the effort of keeping his 
mind focused. His heart lodged in his throat like a 
brick.

"What to do, what to do." Jake's voice came from the 
left and Mulder spun towards it but still he could 
see nothing. "I'm right here!"     Spinning again to 
his right Mulder searched the shadows but saw 
nothing.

"If you lay one more hand on me-" Mulder voice had 
lost all volume but the fury that diluted his soft 
tones was palpable. The adrenalin come down was 
making him shiver uncontrollably. 
    
Jake stepped into the moonlight, looking unearthly 
against the bright opalescent backdrop, his hands 
still resting in his pockets and his lips straight 
and thin. Mulder watched as he stepped no closer but 
drew something from his pocket and held it up in the 
palm of his hand. He tried to see what it was but the 
darkness was hiding too much from him. His flesh was 
suddenly up against a piercing wall of teeth and 
fresh blood ran down his torso as he finally 
processed what it was. 

"I don't need to."

    Jake shot the Tazer and hit Mulder square in the 
chest, pitching him away from the barbed wire that 
had previously claimed him. The Agent dropped hard to 
the ground convulsing and twitching in agony as his 
body shook with the jolt of voltage that wrapped him 
in a heart stopping embrace, Jake watched as his 
victim's eyes rolled to the back of his head and from 
his mouth he spurted blood from his bitten tongue.
    
Releasing the trigger Jake saw Mulder's body go 
still. His eyelids closed over and his mouth ajar.  
Crouching beside him he gently brushed the agents 
hair from his face and tenderly stroked his cheek, 
clicking his tongue.

"You shouldn't have run like that."
    
Heaving Mulder's limp body up onto his shoulder Jake 
walked back into the barn and carried his captive 
through the maze of corridors back to his cell. He 
gently laid him in the corner of the room and prised 
the metal hooks from the Tazer out of his chest.  He 
left for a moment and returned with a bowl of 
steaming water, a few towels and a small stool. He 
knelt next to Mulder and soaked one of the towels in 
the water and wrang it out tightly. Pressing it 
gently against the Agent's many bleeding wounds he 
carefully cleaned up the blood and dirt. Working his 
way meticulously around Mulder's body Jake cleaned up 
as much as he could, changing towels when the one he 
was using became too grimy. 

That secret dark place spirited him away, claiming 
him like a returning lover.
    
Mulder remained still, his pulse weak and his 
breathing ragged, completely unaware of his 
surroundings as Jake took the water and towels away.  
He returned and pulled the stool into a corner by the 
door and at back into the shadows waiting for Mulder 
to wake up.

***

FBI Building
20th November
6.50AM

    Dana Scully sipped from her coffee as she made 
her way through the familiar hallways of the J. Edgar 
Hoover building. As a kid she had toured these halls, 
her father at her side, his enormous hand engulfing 
her small one in safe reassurance, and as an adult 
she had navigated these halls as a confident Agent. 
Now with smaller steps and a less assured gait, 
anyone who had been watching her would see a 
remarkable difference in her demeanour.  Her head 
hung just a little lower then normal and her eyes 
glazed over; less in thought and more in shock.  
    
Still in a daze, she entered the conference room and 
was greeted by Will Andrews as he rushed over to her 
and grabbed her arm. Her coffee spilled over the edge 
of her cup reviving her enough to shake the hot 
liquid from her wrist.

"Dana, we got him. We got him."

"What?" Suddenly alert, she allowed him to lead her 
out of the room and into the corridor where he jumped 
for the closing elevator doors and pulled her in with 
him. He jammed his hand onto the 2nd floor button and 
turned to face her with a wide and gratifying smile. 
Her eyes beseeched him for an explanation.

"We have a match for the finger prints."

"Who?" Her coffee was forgotten as she took the page 
he passed her and stared down at the photo fit of the 
young dark haired man. "Jake Palmer." He looked 
so...regular.

"Lieutenant Jake Palmer. Dishonourable discharge from 
the USMC. 1991"
    
Looking down closer at the page she read the military 
wrap sheet detailing his arrest for attempted murder 
of a fellow officer. Palmer made no plea and refused 
to speak to the MP during the arrest. Reading further 
she saw that his sentencing amounted to the discharge 
but no other punishment was given. To force more 
punishment would be to shed light onto the squad, 
which was something the military obviously wasn't 
prepared to do.

"If he's military why didnt his prints come up 
before?" she demanded, her voice tinged with anger as 
they stepped out of the corridor. Dumping her coffee 
into the nearest bin she followed him into the 
bullpen and over to the projector room.

"He was in a squad called the Delta Knights; a covert 
team that was dealing with stuff the military had no 
part in." He spoke softly until he closed the door 
behind them and they were alone.

"What do you mean?"

    Andrews switched off the lights and turned on the 
projector. The screen lit up with the picture of 
twelve men all in marine fatigues and smiling widely 
at the camera. The dog-eared picture was in black and 
white and fuzzy with little or no focus on it.

"This is the squad and their Major." He walked over 
to the screen and touched the face of a young man who 
stood to the left of the middle row. 

"Jake Palmer. Aged 19 in December 1984."

"What kind of outfit was it?"

"They were in charge of missions that never actually 
occurred. No records. Reconnaissance, rescue, 
Intelligence."

"Special forces?" she looked up to the screen as the 
picture changed to one of the team as they stood in 
full uniform.
"These guys were more elite and less famous then the 
special forces, more your Black ops on a strictly 
buried and secret agenda. "

"Where did you unearth this information?" Joining him 
by the screen she looked closer at the images until 
finally Andrews moved it onto the last picture.

"This is Major Michael Carson." In the picture Jake 
stood next to the major, both of them looking at the 
cameras uncomfortably as if they didn't want to have 
their picture taken. Cold determination on their 
faces. "AKA Assistant Director Kevin Douglas."

"Oh my god," she gasped.

Stepping closer to get a better look the similarity 
was unmistakeable. She turned to Agent Andrews 
frowning, his expression matching hers.
"But," he began stepping back to turn on the lights 
and switch the projector off.
"But?" she urged him to continue as she stared down 
at the police arrest picture of Jake Palmer. He had a 
small face but bright eyes with a weird undefined 
energy that even came through on the small mug shot.

"But this doesn't prove anything. Other than the fact 
that he knew the suspect."  He sighed and shoved his 
hands stiffly in his pockets.

"Knew him and should have recognised him from the 
pictures we distributed."

"What about motive?" Agent Andrews countered.

"Motive for the murders? Kidnapping of two agents?"

"There is none. We need to keep looking. I have Agent 
Beckett running a background check on Palmer to see 
if he has any place locally that he might be holding 
them. I think it would be best if we ran the check on 
AD. Douglas."

Scully nodded. Hold on Mulder please-"Yes. Have you 
spoken to Skinner yet?" 

"No. I'm about to go there now." Agent Andrews 
shuffled his papers together and slipped them into a 
slim binder.

"I have a few phone calls to make. I'll meet you back 
here afterwards?"

"Fine."

    When Agent Andrews left the room Scully pounced 
on the phone and quickly dialled the Lone Gunmen's 
office. Langly answered almost immediately and before 
he could go into the long diatribe she cut him off.

"Langly it's me. I need you to do some research for 
me."

"Name it."

"Major Michael Carson. Lieutenant Jake Palmer. Check 
all you can on them. Carson is currently going under 
the name Kevin Douglas. Works here in the FBI."   
"An inside job?"
"I don't know, I need.."

" I'm on it." Langly said before she had to offer any 
more of an explanation. "Anything else?"

"And find out what you can about Delta Knights Marine 
Squad."

"Will do."

"Thanks. I'll call you later."

    Scully hung up the phone and made her way to the 
reference library. Her anger at the lack of co-
operation from the army, or AD. Douglas was 
threatening to overwhelm her when she thought of how 
much Mulder might be suffering at the hands of this 
special ops maniac, but she shook her head as if she 
could physically remove the thoughts.  If there was 
any information of more recent links to be found 
between Major Carson and Jake Palmer, The Lone Gunmen 
would weasel them out, she deliberated as she settled 
into a desk with a pc and began some research of her 
own.

Part 6b

Darkness...

    Fox Mulder woke slowly. Keeping his eyes closed 
he waited for his body to catch up before he tried 
to move.  He took a slow deep breath that was 
suddenly met with terrible torrent of nausea and 
thick congestion in his lungs. He coughed against 
the urge to vomit but it was too much for him. 
Grabbing his stomach as it spasmed violently with 
each heave, he all but doubled over in pain. 
    
A hand on his shoulder helped him roll over onto 
his side where his stomach took control, forcing 
the blood and bile from his belly, up his throat 
and out of his mouth with a wave of power he wasn't 
prepared for. His mouth was invaded with the foul 
leftovers of puke taste that lingered too long 
after initial exodus and he was breathless after 
the effort of disgorgement. What was passing for 
his ribs these days were molten fire.

Rolling onto his back and wiping his mouth with the 
back of his hand, he took slow breaths, trying to 
ignore the cramping in his stomach.

"Feeling better?" The voice was soft and tender and 
for a few moments he didnt recognise it as Jake's.  
Mulder tried to lift his head but there didnt seem 
to be any strength left in his neck. He felt like 
every molecule of his body was itching, shaking, 
spiralling into oblivion along with his mind. He 
let his head lull to the side and rest on his 
shoulder, only to see Jake sitting on a small stool 
next to his head. "Here, these will help."
    
Jake held a small handful of ice chips out and 
pressed them to Mulder's trembling lips. The cold 
sensation was heaven to his dry swollen and cracked 
lips and he basked in their small comfort without 
regard to their source. Opening his mouth and 
sucking them in was bliss until the shock of 
feeling Jake's fingers hit his tongue. Peering up 
to his captor he saw the fond smile on Jake's lips 
and he turned away, spitting the ice out as if it 
was poison as he did.

"What...happened?" Mulder asked weakly, his chest 
humming with a strange pain he hadn't felt before 
and his ears ringing as if he'd spent the night in 
a rowdy club.

"It's time Agent Mulder."
    
Somehow Jake's words rattled him and he tried to 
sit up, but his body was too weak. Lying flat on 
the filthy ground he was surprised to feel his 
chest was cleaner, the grime that had been building 
up on his body since he got here was gone. The hair 
that had been bristling on his chin shaven off, and 
his shoulder anointed with a stiff smelling muscle 
relaxant he recognised from the various injuries 
he'd had before.

"Time for... what?" he murmured, rolling his head 
back to face Jake. He barely had the energy to 
care.

" As much fun as this has been.  It's time for all 
this to end."
    
Jake reached behind him and pulled a small bag out 
to rest between his knees. From the bag he 
retrieved a metal box that looked like a glasses 
case. Before opening the box he put on a pair of 
latex gloves that sent shivers up Mulder's spine. 
With the gloves fitted comfortably he opened the 
box, turning it so Mulder could see the contents.

"Take it." Mulder looked in and saw a straight 
razor sitting closed in the case. His heart thudded 
loudly and the room seemed to shrink back to 
nothing but the glint on the cold steel.  

"What for?" The last time he'd seen a razor like 
it, Jake had been slicing it across his chest while 
fondling him in places he'd desperately tried to 
block from his mind. 

No ...don't go there, don't...

"Take it." Still in a tender voice, Jake spoke 
softly as he lowered himself onto the floor and sat 
next to Mulder's head. "You need to do this."
    
Mulder's tears fell silently from his tired eyes 
and no matter how much he wanted to take the blade 
there was a tiny part of him urging to resist. An 
urge to survive. But even as a million thoughts and 
images, each one more horrifying than the last swam 
through his scattered mind, his heavy arm lifted 
slowly off the ground before he could register and 
reached up to take the knife.  Hesitating for only 
a moment he clutched at the shiny blade with a 
clumsy grip and brought it to rest by his side.

"This is something you'll have to do alone. I can't 
help you."
    
Hypnotised by the gentle cadence of his voice, 
Mulder turned his head towards Jake and let his 
body follow. The small vestige of psychologist 
still in him shouted 'Stockholm syndrome' and he 
was sure he was a classic case, like the ones he'd 
studied at Oxford, but the need to be held, the 
need to be told that what he was doing was right 
sank deeper and deeper inside of that disturbed 
maelstrom in his mind, until he could no longer 
tell if it was his feeling to begin with. 

Lying in that foetal position he'd grown 
accustomed to for the past horrific weeks, he faced 
Jake with burning tears as he slowly opened the 
blade and held it firmly against his wrist, 
swallowing fiercely. Something close to excitement 
blazed in Jake's eyes as he took in the pathetic 
sight in front of him, his captives throbbing pulse 
against the bite of the blade.

An ending at last and not one surrounded by a 
barbed wire fence but a final ending that would 
bring complete relief without the burden of 
healing. Regeneration that he didn't think he could 
survive if he had to face it fully.

***

FBI Building
21st November
5.45 PM

"What do you have?" Skinner asked without ceremony 
as he stalked into the conference room with ease, 
sitting heavily in the top chair between Agent 
Scully and Agent Andrews.
    
Paul Andrews glanced at Scully's exhausted face and 
nodded to let her go first. She smiled and turned 
to Skinner as she slid a folder across the table to 
him.

"Jake Palmer has spent alot of time in a lot of 
psychiatric units." She pointed out the list on the 
second page of the file. "He was discharged from 
Belleview in New York State on the 5th of December 
1994."

"Two weeks before the assaults started to happen in 
New York." Skinner noted.

"His doctors reported a strange ability for 
abnormally rapid healing when injured, although the 
injuries were all superficial and self inflicted."

"According to the institute," Andrews added.

"His blood was found at several locations around 
the institute, but never where he would have been 
and usually after another patient had been hurt or 
wounded."

"Other people were bleeding his blood?" Skinner 
slapped the file closed and looked between them 
both. "Okay, so if they were...where has it gotton 
us?"

"We have done extensive searching for some sort of 
ties that Jake might have to the DC area but we 
found nothing.  He never visited an institute here, 
he doesn't own any land as far as we're concerned, 
or rents anything here.  He's a transient in this 
state."  

"So you called me up here for what exactly?"

"Major Michael Carson.  Retired in 1989 shortly 
after the USMC squad code named 'Delta Knights' 
disbanded." Scully passed him a separate folder.

"Forced retirement?" Skinner asked flipping through 
the photos and pulling one up closer to his face to 
see the unmistakeable picture of AD. Douglas 
staring back.

"On the contrary. He left highly decorated with a 
service medal for conduct, valour, bravery and even 
the Purple heart from President Reagan."

"So what happened?"

"He died in a terrible car crash."  

"Two weeks later AD. Douglas was assigned a 
position in the LA field Office of the bureau. A 
year after that he was assigned to New York and 
then finally three years ago, here in DC." Andrews 
finished for her.

"So you have his track record on file. What about 
his connections to this Jake Palmer?" Skinner 
tapped the file in the middle of the table and 
looked between them both. He was getting a very bad 
feeling where all this was leading. 

"He was his commanding officer from 1983 to 91 when 
Palmer was discharged."

"So you have basically nothing?"  Scully looked him 
impassively in the eyes.

"Twenty three days ago a reasonably large sum of 
money left the private account of AD. Douglas. He 
didnt buy a car, no land deeds were purchased and 
his credit card bills still remain unpaid. We have 
yet to see a recipient of this sum of money. We are 
trying to pick up a digital trail for it but so far 
that trail keeps getting cold. Its been well 
orchestrated, wherever this money transfer has 
ended up."

"You think Palmer was blackmailing him?" Skinner 
asked incredulously. Someone this high up in the 
bureau organising this type of crime against their 
own was a frightening thought.... and all too 
possible if certain other shady men were to be 
considered. Mulder's often used words came back to 
haunt him. 'Trust no one'...

"Possibly. Or he was paying Palmer."

"To kidnap agent Blake? Agent Mulder?" 

    Scully looked away for a second, but it was 
long enough for him to know she was still holding 
out hope for her partner to return alive. He hoped 
to god something could still be done to get them 
both back alive...but he was realist. This had gone 
on too long and with this new damning accusation of 
AD. Douglas possible involvement he couldn't see 
anything but everything ending badly.

"Well sir the motive is unclear. We can only assume 
that it's Palmer doing the blackmailing. One thing 
is clear though and that's that these two men have 
been communicating, keeping in touch and sending 
case updates." Andrews shuffled though the pages 
until he came to the phone bill records. "As you 
can see we have marked off all the Bureau related 
calls made from AD. Douglas' office and those made 
from his home line."

"How did you get this information?" Skinner asked 
even as his eyes were skimming down the list of 
highlighted numbers.

"Sir the point is, he was talking to Agent Blake's 
phone," Andrews confirmed before AD Skinner could 
continue. "After she went missing."
    
Skinner's face paled before them as he examined the 
dates and times of the phone calls.

"We need to speak to him."

"I'll talk to him." Skinner stood up from the table 
and took the files with him. Both Scully and 
Andrews watched worriedly as he walked briskly out 
of the room and the door shut solidly behind him.

"What now?" Agent Andrews asked as Scully gathered 
the rest of the pages.

"He's going to make a deal."

"Just like that?"

"Do you see he has any other choice?" She ambled 
sadly over to the coffee machine and poured a cup 
of the thick black liquid. Her appetite was nil and 
she wondered idly how long she could keep going on 
a diet of coffee and little else. "Skinner will 
threaten him with arrest but I'm sure it won't go 
that far. Not yet anyway. Skinner might be able to 
secure details of where this Jake has them holed 
up. We can deal with him later. Right now the 
important thing is to find Mulder and Blake before 
they run out of time. "  She didn't want to voice 
the niggling spike of fear that they had already.
    
Paul Andrews watched her under hooded eyes as she 
slowly walked towards the window and stared out at 
the city that seethed below them.  Her suit was 
impeccable as it had ever been and her hair 
perfect. He'd only been working with her for a 
couple of weeks but even he could tell the 
difference between someone who was surviving and 
someone who was dying. She'd lost some weight. Ten 
to one she wasn't eating anything worth a damn. 
They had to get a resolution soon. She'd never 
last. Mulder was a lot more than just a 
partner...that much was evident in the slump of her 
tiny frame against the window 

***

Office of AD Douglas
21st November 
6.03PM

    Walter Skinner hesitated for a moment outside 
the inner door to Douglas' office. He had smiled at 
his secretary as she walked out, assuring him AD. 
Douglas was finishing off a couple of notes before 
leaving for the day so he knew he was alone.  A 
steady rap on the door preceded Douglas's bid to 
enter and Skinner was surprised to find him sitting 
on the visitors couch, his tie loosened and his 
cuffs rolled up to his elbows. Skinner resisted the 
urge to curl his fists. His face remained stone.

"Mr Skinner, what can I do for you?"

"Kevin." Skinner walked over to him and it was then 
he was met by the faint smell of alcohol. Spying 
the half empty bottle of gin on the floor by 
Douglas's feet he stopped in his tracks half way 
across the room. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm off the clock. So are you. Join me."

"No thanks."

"Well in that case what can I do for you Mr 
Skinner?" Douglas reached for the bottle and poured 
more into his empty glass.

"I want to ask you about Jake Palmer." The words 
shook Douglas to the core causing him to spill more 
gin over his hand then he managed to get into the 
glass.

"Never heard of him."

"Kevin..."

"I never heard of him!" he reiterated more 
forcefully, swallowing back the drink in one large 
gulp.

"Don't give me your BS. Tell me what you know." 
Douglas looked at the open disgust on his 
colleague's face and blanched, the alcohol robbing 
him of his usual stoicism.

"I can't. It's classified."

"Classified?" Skinners anger bore a new level. 
"Kevin I have phone records of you talking with him 
on a regular basis. He has two of my agents doing 
god know what to them. Where is he? Where is he 
holding them?"

    Kevin Douglas' face aged before his very eyes 
and Skinner watched as his shoulders crumpled and 
his spine curved. His back shook with the effort of 
sobbing and the joy of relief. 

"You can't know what it's like..." His voice was 
cracked and broken with emotion and when he looked 
up to Skinner's face his eyes were red rimmed and 
bloodshot, weary of the battle he'd been fighting 
for so long.

"Was he blackmailing you?"

"Blackmail? No."

"You paid him?"

"Yes. I owed him I owed him so much. He was so 
young."

"Kevin you better tell me where they are." 
Skinner's eyes narrowed dangerously and Douglas 
nodded sadly in defeat.

"It was 1983. They gave me a squad. I had free 
reign."

"Where is he holding them?" Skinner asked more 
forcefully anger spilling out as he ground his 
words out. "We may not have much time. Spill it."

As if he hadn't heard him Douglas continued to 
speak, finally the wall had been lifted and he 
could speak freely, nothing could stop him. Skinner 
stepped forward, his eyes level with Douglas. Cold 
determination and fear; fear for his missing agents 
blowing up in his gaze.

"Three of them died from the initial tests. The 
next two died a year later from blood poisoning."

"Kevin!" Skinner shouted picking him up by the 
shoulders and slamming him into the wall behind 
them. "My agents..."

"They were so young!" he sobbed oblivious to the 
larger man who held him up.  He seemed to be lost 
in memories and Skinner didnt think there was 
anything he could say or do that would bring him 
back.
    
Tossing him back onto the couch in disgust, Skinner 
grabbed the phone and dialled the conference room 
phone extension. He spoke briefly with Agent 
Andrews before hanging up and getting a hold on 
Douglas again who continued to sob and mumble to 
himself. There was nothing he could do. No effort 
he could muster up to clean him or hide the bottle 
of gin. Most of him didn't even want to. Mulder 
could be dead because of his inaction.  Instead 
Skinner leaned against the desk sighing in abject 
frustration and awaited the knock at the door.  
Thankfully he didn't have to wait for long. The 
knock was cursory and they didn't wait for an 
answer before walking in. Two agents took a weeping 
Douglas away as others started to scour the room 
for clues.

"Everything. I want everything checked. Pull this 
fucking office apart. Leave nothing unturned, and I 
mean nothing. "  They were so damn close. He tamped 
down his anger as best he could and it almost 
choked him. They had to find the location fast.

***

Home of Kevin Douglas
23rd November
10.03AM

"Call him."

"He'll know."

"Call him."

"They are already dead."

"Kevin if you don't pick up that phone and call him 
right now you're facing the chair. Call the fucking 
number or so help me..."
    
Kevin Douglas looked around the room at the sea of 
expectant faces before him. In the corner Agent 
Scully and Agent Andrews stood close together 
casting undisguised daggers of fury in his 
direction. Two Agents he didnt recognise monitored 
the tracking device they had placed on his phone. 
And before him, leaning on the arms of his chair 
with his nose mere inches from his own was AD. 
Skinner, radiating brimstone.

"Okay, okay..."
    
He gingerly picked up the phone and under watchful 
eyes, dialled the number. It rang three, four then 
five times before Palmer answered. He was 
breathless on the other end and panting. Kevin's 
eyes darted over to Scully who was watching him 
with unbridled fury. Skinner made several hand 
gestures to the tracing team who were standing by. 
Tension was a thick soup in the room you could cut 
with knife.

"Palmer."

"Ahhh my favourite Major..."

"Who were you expecting? The Pope?"

    Jake laughed heartily on the other end. "What 
do you want...I'm kinda in the middle of 
something?"

"I have the money ready."

"Great."

"Where will we do this?"

"How about here?"

"Where?"

"Oh come on Major. You know where."

"Jake tell me where you are. I have the money ready 
and I want to get this over with."

"I'll meet you in the city. Nothing like the 
Arlington War monument to bring back happy memories 
eh major?" he laughed nastily. 

"Ok. Tomorrow. 10 o clock."

"Yes, yes that's fine."

"Palmer...is he dead yet?"   Scully gasped quietly 
in the corner of the room.

"Dead?" Jake laughed again. "He wishes he was. 
Nearly Major. He's nearly dead. This time tomorrow 
he will be."  Palmer laughed on the other end of 
the line and Douglas held it away from his ear. 
"Don't you want to know what I did with her body?" 
Palmer continued. "You seemed so interested in how 
I killed her."

    The line went dead. Scully felt the comforting 
arm of Agent Andrews on her back as the room 
wavered before her, but it offered no comfort, only 
burned. Excusing herself as quickly as she could, 
she walked out of the room and burst into the open 
area of the back yard.  She needed the fresh wind 
in her face, her lungs. The fresh air stung her 
lungs and stilled the tears in her eyes. God, he 
was still alive. Hold on Mulder please. Behind her 
she heard the door close and she quickly dried the 
remnants of lingering tears. Expecting Agent 
Andrews to be behind her she was surprised to see 
Skinner approaching her; his face a wellspring of 
quiet sympathy.
 
"It's nearly over." He said softly. He placed a 
tentative hand on her shoulder wishing he could 
extol his strength into her. She looked so on the 
verge it scared him. 

"I know." She murmured turning away when the tears 
threatened to fall again. "That's what I'm afraid 
of. Afraid of what we will find."

***

Darkness...

    Jake Palmer lay still on his bed enjoying the 
sound of Mulder's howls as he remembered them. The 
shrill shriek of pain as the blade cut his skin and 
he dragged it towards his elbow in a four-inch 
slice that opened his arm and bled heavily like a 
fine thick wine. He licked his lips savouring again 
the sweet taste. 

His eyes gleamed in the memory and it was all he 
could do to go back and look at him again, the 
blood pooling beneath his arm and the whites of his 
eyes rolling to the forefront.  The silence was 
reassuring to him now and he loved the way his 
breathing echoed around the room but it also meant 
him feel safe. He knew his surroundings, he knew 
their sounds, shapes and shadows. That was how he 
saw him. 

"Are you going to hide over there all night Major?" 
Without looking up he spoke into the darkness his 
fingers interlocking casually behind his head as he 
did.

"Too late Jake. It's too late." AD. Douglas stepped 
into the room and approached the bed. A small shaft 
of moonlight shone over the curtain and he stood 
just on the edge of it. Jake grinned at his obvious 
agitation.
"Maybe. Maybe not."
    
Without answering Douglas pulled his gun up and aim 
it at Jake's head but it didn't wipe the smile from 
his face. Lowering his aim he pulled the trigger 
and shot Jake in the shoulder. The bullet hot and 
fast seared through his skin, bone and muscle, 
sending sharp scorching pain across his chest.

"You'll never fix it. You'll always owe me."
    
Douglas aimed for the other shoulder and shot 
again; hitting his target he stepped closer to the 
bed and loomed over Palmer's squirming body.
"It feels too good to make you stop."

"Fuck you...it was you who made me like this." His 
voice was so calm that his anger was disguised. 
"You made me what I am and you gave me her name, 
you gave me the pass for the garage."

"You were supposed to kill her."

"I did." Jake smiled wickedly. "After I had some 
fun with her. Next time you tell someone classified 
secrets in bed try to make it a blonde. I prefer 
blondes."

"There's not going to be a next time." Douglas 
shifted his weight onto his other foot and 
tightened his grip on the gun.

"No more fun for you major?"
    
In silence Douglas held the gun up and looking down 
the length of cold steel he could see Jake's 
quivering painful eyes. He refused to blink, he 
wanted to remember the look, the look he'd 
inflicted on this man and the look he was sure this 
man inflicted on others. It had to stay with him or 
else there would be no redemption.

"It's over Jake. It has to end, I only wish I did 
it years ago."

    Jake barked out a loud harsh laugh that stung 
him to the core but teh suprised look on Douglas' 
face made it all worth while.
"Then what? Then who would have killed Mulder?"

"Is he dead?"

"Man he was so much fun. I fucked him so bad and it 
was better then ever before. He hurt so much that 
it made my job easy!"

"What did you do? Where is he?" Douglas shouted 
spittle from his angry voice splashing onto his 
hand and clinging to his chin.

"Where is he? You want to take him back to DC, give 
him a proper burial?" Jake laughed his adrenaline 
pushing the pain into the back recess of his mind 
ad he looked up to the major. "He wept for his dead 
partner. He cradled her naked body to protect her, 
he took beating after beating to stop me from 
hurting her..." Jakes laugh turned maniacal. "But 
he didnt know it wasn't even her!"

"You sick fuck!"

His finger squeezed the easy trigger and the 
kickback moved his arm out of the way in time to 
see the full impact of the bullet of Jake's face as 
it flew in a million directions at once. He swiped 
at the brain matter that had landed on his lips 
with the back of his hand and shook it off with 
revulsion.   

Feeling stronger then he had done in a long time, 
Douglas tossed the gun onto the bed beside Jake's 
dead carcass and walked back into the darkness.
    
He reached the first door and pulled the latch lock 
from it before opening it and stepping in. Mulder's 
abused body laid in the centre of the room, his 
skin wet with blood and glistening in the 
moonlight. Deep shuddering breaths punctuated by 
racked sobs and hiccups cut through the foul air. 
Staring at the man who was once the FBI's finest 
profiler for a long moment, Douglas stored the 
gruesome image of what he'd now been reduced to as 
he backed away. Holding it before his eyes he 
walked out of the underground shelter and across 
the gravel footpath onto the road where he'd parked 
the car. The staining image never left his sight as 
he pulled up outside his own house and let himself 
in.
    
Climbing the stairs slowly, taking each step with a 
deep breath and a heavy heart Douglas made his way 
into the bathroom where he watched his reflection 
in the mirror. Tearstained images of Agent Scully's 
face appeared behind him as he remembered the state 
of Mulder's frail bleeding body festering and 
broken in the dirty cell.
    
He climbed up on a chair. Even as his fingers 
fumbled with the noose he was making from the wire 
that he'd pulled from the shower curtain rain, he 
saw the picture of Jake's eyes.  Mulder's 
glistening body and Jake's fearful eyes fought for 
supremacy in his mind as he looped the noose over 
his head and tightened it around his neck. The cord 
cut tightly into his skin cutting off his air 
supply even now before he applied the pressure. 
    
It was Mulder's image that won as he stepped into 
the slippery bathtub and sat heavily onto the 
enamel surface where his feet had no grip to 
support him and his neck took the brunt of his 
weight.  He coughed and spluttered as he tried 
desperately to take in air but even as he tried he 
didnt want to succeed.  
    
His face turned red as the blood in his head built 
up more and more pressure bursting capillaries and 
spilling into his eyes before finally an exploding 
sharp pain plunged him into the final darkness.

***

Office of AD Skinner
24th November 
8.03AM

    Skinner paced the small confines of his office, 
as Scully looked on from her seat by his desk. He 
was tense and weary and it was only eight am.  She 
watched as he pulled his glasses on and off and ran 
his hands over his smooth head. His hands danced 
from his hips to his pockets never sitting still as 
he burned off the nervous energy any way he could.

"Sir?"

"He should be here."

"Agent Douglas has taken a team out to his house 
and they should be on their way back by now."

"There is something wrong."

"Sir, there has been alot of things wrong with this 
case."
    
Skinner turned sharply at her words to see her 
sorrowful expression but before he could offer any 
words of comfort the phone on his desk rang with a 
shrillness that shocked both of them. 

"Skinner."

"AD. Skinner. It's Agent Andrews."

"What's happened?"

"We have a situation down here."

"What is it?" he asked eager to see what had 
happened all the while keeping his back to Scully.

"AD. Douglas is dead."  He closed his eyes on a 
curse. At least they still had hope for Poor 
Mulder.

"Murder?"

"No sir. It looks like suicide."

"Okay. I'll get a team out there. I want you to go 
to the memorial. You all have pictures of Palmer. I 
want him picked up and this over by lunch time."
"Yes sir."
    
Skinner replaced the phone and turned back to 
Scully who sat on the edge of her seat awaiting his 
words.

"Kevin Douglas is dead. Agent Andrews says it looks 
like suicide."

"What about the meeting?"

"They are going over there right now."

"I'm going to meet them." She stood up to leave the 
room but skinner grabbed her arm to stop her.

"No Dana no. You have to stop putting yourself up 
for disappointment like that."

"I can't stop. I'll never stop." She shook her hand 
free and stormed out of the room.

***

Light...

    The light was so bright it hurt his exhausted 
eyes even as they were closed. His body was 
terribly weak and starved for rest but there was 
nothing he had to offer it so he waited for it to 
give up.  The light dimmed along with the pain as 
he tried to focus and gather the strength to open 
his eyes one last time. 
    
Blinking hurt, but he managed to ignore the 
swimming nausea and open his eyes for a moment. The 
walls spun before him and moved about rhythmlessly 
as he lurched over onto his side. With his arm 
stretched out before him he focused on it to make 
the room stop swaying and soon enough the walls 
settled and he could keep his eyes open.
    
Glancing down at his badly cut sliced arm, he 
ignored the grotesque marks and dried blood to pull 
the arm behind him and push himself off the floor.  
The room was empty and the door was ajar but Mulder 
wasn't sure if he could make it across the room let 
alone out of the building. But now was a perfect 
time to try he decided, some small sane part of him 
still hoping for redemption..

Managing to get onto his knees, Mulder grabbed one 
of the soiled towels from the floor and wrapped it 
around his arm to stem the bleeding from his gaping 
wounds.  He crawled over to the door and peered 
around the corner, pausing for a moment to let his 
eyes focus. There was nothing. No sounds coming 
from either end so using the doorjamb as leverage, 
Mulder managed to stand up on shaky legs.
    
He stumbled along the wall to the next corridor 
corner and waited for a hand to grab his shoulder, 
a knife to slice his back or lips to touch his 
cheek. Heart pounding in anticipation of anything.
    
Staggering further away from his cell and back the 
way as best he could remember, Mulder managed to 
meander his way through the corridors to get to the 
final door. Taking a deep breath he turned to 
handle and opened it slowly. The sunlight burned 
him and made him step back into the shadows, almost 
afraid to put one foot in front of the other. Hope 
had all but dimmed in his soul. But as he became 
accustomed to it he began to welcome its warmth. It 
offered him a new strength that pumped his legs and 
heart, giving him the power to run. To run faster 
and harder then he had ever run before.
    
The pain was all but unbearable; stinging his body, 
infecting his blood and clawing at every muscle and 
sinew he had but it didn't matter. The pain made 
him feel alive and when he was hurtling forward in 
a blind panic, when his body wasn't hurting, his 
mind was, his heart ached and his soul cried for 
release. So he kept running. Screaming inside, 
blindly flailing about as he got further away. 
Climbing the barbed wire fence and ignoring the 
slices of sharp metal cutting into his skin on his 
legs, the adrenalin in his arms and chest was a 
wonderful feeling. Knowing the pain was a means to 
escape and not the games he'd been forced to endure 
brought a whole new level of blind control to him. 
He raced through the fields not knowing where he 
was going, not caring where he'd end up knowing 
only that it could only improve. Green grass 
turning ochre as he dripped a trail of blood in his 
terrified flight to freedom. Unaware, he kept 
breathing, a searing pain in his lungs stealing his 
air, but on and on he ran. Stumbling, panting, like 
an animal fleeing from the jaws of death.

He'd never get back, his mind sneered at him, 
never get back to the level he was at before, never 
retrieve the comfortable level of living he was 
used to before and knew there would be only battles 
for the rest of his life, but he had to fight he 
knew.

Her face swam before his eyes, smiling, waving 
waiting but he pushed it back. He ran. He ran away 
but he didnt know how far he would run. He didnt 
know if he could run that far. Her blue eyes 
followed in his heart as much as he tried to shut 
them out. 'Nonononmono' echoed in his head as he 
surged forward. He was out of control, pushing 
forward through the woods, over thickets and 
stumbling over rocks bringing fresh blood to 
already tortured wounds. Silent screams lodged in 
his throat as he struggled across the punishing 
terrain.  On and On....

***

Arlington Memorial
24th November
10.50AM

    Dana Scully scanned the crowd with a trained 
eye. Spotting the casual tourists immediately, it 
was as if she could block them from her sight and 
focus on the single men who wandered around the 
monument.
She waited for him to appear. Waited for the face 
of evil, who took away her hope? Waited for him to 
stroll up the gravelly path but so far nothing. 
Glancing across at a bench when Agent Andrews sat 
mock reading a newspaper she gave him the slightest 
of nods. What does the face of one so evil look 
like? She'd thought she'd seen it before in a dozen 
or more but the distress she felt somehow shouted 
it was worse than she could possibly imagine. She 
was terrified for Mulder and for herself. What had 
this evil done to his soul and could they get him 
back in some semblance of humanity. What if Jake 
had destroyed that as her nightmares had played out 
to her like an omen.     

    He stood up and walked closer to the wall 
gaining a better vantage point as she walked away 
from the wall and circled the small park.  If 
Mulder was with her he would be making comments on 
the people passing by. He reads the NY Times every 
Monday, he'd say. She played softball on Sunday 
morning with an all ladies team; he works at an 
insurance sales office.

Smiling at the odd memory she glanced up to 
see Agent Andrews approaching her the paper folded 
and held tightly under his arm.  He looked around 
and sat onto the bench next to her as he unfolded 
his paper and held it up to read again.

"He's not going to show," he murmured without 
looking at her.

"No. I'm going to go to the morgue and do the 
autopsy on AD Douglas."

"You don't think it was suicide?"

"Maybe it was, doesn't mean there wont be clues."

    She sat with him for a few moments longer then 
stood up and returned to the blue sedan that was 
parked near the entrance. Taking a moment to steady 
her shaky breath she turned the key in the ignition 
and indicated out of her spot. Pulling into the 
traffic she rolled the window down and let the wind 
bat her face with a gently breeze in the hope that 
it would stop her unshed tears from falling. Oh 
Mulder...

She couldn't cry anymore. The pain was unbearable. 
Having to force herself up every morning, having to 
face it again and again every day then crawling 
back into her bed again at night without his 
smiling face and flirty humor. She missed him so 
much it was a physical ache.  She wanted to close 
her eyes to the horrors her mind was producing and 
ignore the pain until it had numbed enough for her 
to survive. But it wasn't numbing it was getting 
stronger and stronger as her ache for him 
increased. 

***

Darkness...

    It had been so dark for so long he was 
beginning to get used to it. He rested during the 
day, finding a cool dark spot where his body could 
hide from the harsh light but at night he covered 
ground like a nocturnal scavenger. Stumbling across 
a stream one night he sat and drank for hours until 
he felt sharp pains in his stomach that forced him 
to stop and loose a days travel. He had no idea 
where he was going and part of him was expecting to 
see "Welcome to Philadelphia" signs. A bubble of 
laughter rose in his throat as he picked his way 
through each painful mile.
    
But tonight he saw it. The long soft-focused 
familiar sight of the DC horizon. The Washington 
monument was unmistakable and brought weary tears 
to his eyes. Oblivious to his nakedness, Mulder was 
spurred on by the sight of civilisation and he 
rushed towards it but his body was reaching a limit 
he knew he couldn't pass. Not wanting to stop for 
fear of never getting started again he forced his 
aching limbs to continue. Just a little further. 
Keep breathing...just keep going.
    
The feel of the road beneath his bloody feet was 
somewhat comforting although he preferred the cool 
sensation of the grass between his toes but it was 
encouraging to know he was making progress. He was 
running on empty now and he heeded to rest before 
his body caved in under the weight of abuse it has 
suffered. 

He spied the phone box immediately and rushed over 
to it but as he stepped inside he hesitated.

Could he really go back? Could he face them? Could 
he face her?
    
His legs bucked beneath him and he fell to the 
ground. His breathing became shallow as his body 
finally decided enough was enough and refused to do 
any more. He saw the shadow approaching him and he 
huddled into a ball to protect his body.

"Hey buddy, you okay?" the voice came through like 
a shot in the dark.
    
Mulder looked up but instead of the elderly 
Hispanic man that stood before him Mulder saw Jake. 
Heard Jake and watched his mouth curl into the 
sickly sneer that made his heart gallop. His 
running had been useless. His escape had been a 
dream. His mind was rotten with foul images that 
had stained his life never to be removed.

He opened his mouth and the stranger waited to hear 
his name and instead he was met with a barrage of 
noise as Mulder screamed an unnatural howl that 
stole the rest of his energy before he fell limp 
and lifeless curled up in the corner of the booth, 
a puddle of blood and piss pooling around him.
    
The stranger picked up the phone and dialled 911 
for emergency.
"Ambulance...there is a guy here...I think he's 
dead."
"Where are you sir?" the operator asked.

"25th and 9th avenue."

"Who is he?" 

"I don't know I was just walking by. Some beat up 
naked dude. He screamed up a storm like the devil 
himself was after him. Then he passed out. I ..I 
don't think I feel a pulse."

"Can I have your name sir?"

"I had nothing to do with this. Look lady he's hurt 
you better get here fast." The line went dead and 
she directed the ambulance to the street.
    
Mulder was still unconscious when they tied him to 
the gurney and had yet to regain any level of 
consciousness by the time he had been through 
triage, x-ray and prepped for surgery. He was in a 
sorry state and they feared that he might not 
survive. He was barely hanging on and had lost a 
lot of blood, was undernourished and grossly 
dehydrated.
triage, x-ray and prepped for surgery.

Georgetown Memorial Hospital
7th December 
3.10 AM

The double doors didn't stand a chance as Dana 
Scully hit them at full speed, not bothering to 
slow down her charge into the hospital emergency 
department.  They smashed against the walls 
scraping the magnolia paint and disturbing the 
quiet tension in the waiting room.

"Where is he?" she demanded loudly approaching the 
desk and twirling round in search of someone who 
might help her. Eyes flashing blue venom from 
anyone who would keep her from her partner. She 
slammed her hand down on the counter and glared at 
the attending nurse on duty.  "I'm looking for Fox 
Mulder, he was admitted here about 2 hours ago? 
Where can I find him?" she bellowed without giving 
the nurse a chance to answer her.

"Agent Scully!"  Skinner came rushing over to her, 
his arms outstretched as he grasped her shoulders 
and turned her away from the dazed nurse.  "He's in 
emergency surgery at the moment." Her eyes locked 
on his, wide with fear and she nodded. A single 
tear escaping despite herself.

He guided her past all the waiting patients and 
through 2 sets of doors before placing her into one 
of the hallway plastic seats.  Bending down next to 
her he held her hands that lay restlessly on her 
lap.  

"What happened?" her voice was low, her fear and 
anger battling for supremacy.  "Who found him?"

"I know as much...or as little as you do.  I got 
here about 15 minutes 
ago...he was already in surgery."

"What about his admittance file? Where is it? I 
need ...I need to see it" Her voice took on a new 
tone of fresh anger as her mind reeled out the 
possibilities.

"I've already asked for it and a nurse from the ER 
is bringing it down."
    As if on cue a small elderly nurse approached 
them, the rubber soles of her shoes announcing her 
arrival on the otherwise silent corridor.

"Mr. Skinner?" Scully took a steadying breath and 
kept her eyes on the folder like it might attack 
her, the duality of needing and dreading to see 
what was inside almost buckling her at the knees.

"Yes, thank you."  He took the file she offered and 
his lips tightened as he passed it into Scully's 
shaking palms.  She flicked it open immediately her 
eyes and finger scanning the page, soaking up the 
list of meds he'd been given as if it could warm 
her of what injuries she could expect, before 
reading the treatments from the hospitals Triage, 
to the surgeon's notes before surgery.  Her eyes 
read through the bad scribbled notes and Skinner 
watched as she paled visibly before him.  She took 
a deep shaky breath almost gagging on the all too 
familiar taste of the hospital cleanliness as she 
lowered her face into her hands.  

"Scully? What is it?"  Her breath was a gasping 
noise that scared him s he waited for her to speak.

"His left arm is broken in two different places, at 
the elbow and at the wrist...probably from being 
suspended by handcuffs for an extended length of 
time."  Sitting up she glanced back at the medical 
file then up to Skinners concerned but expectant 
expression.  She took a sharp in take of breath. 
"They'll need to be re-broken and re-set correctly.  
Various head injuries to the frontal left 
lobe...some swelling but thankfully no clots. Many 
badly broken ribs. One or two threatening a 
pheumothorax.... That...that means they might have 
damaged his lungs."

"There is something else isn't there..." His words 
hung in the air between them but Scully refrained 
from answering right away, not wanting to say it 
out loud, not wanting to make it any more real. 
Skinner watched her eyes close upon the glistening 
tears held at bay there.

" Massive lower colon injuries due to.... due...to 
..to severe sexual trauma."  Fresh tears fell 
silently as the file fluttered to the floor, the 
pages forgotten but their words still stinging 
sharply.
    
Skinner sat next to her and placed a tentative arm 
around her shoulders.  Without hesitation she 
turned into his broad chest and cried effortlessly, 
wetting his shirt in short sharp heart rending 
sobs.  

For a moment the silence was permeated only by she 
gentle crying, her tears falling, for what she 
didn't know, her sobs racking her chest for what 
she did.  She sat up abruptly running her hand over 
her cheeks to remove the traces of her tears as 
best she could.

"He's safe now," Skinner said soothingly. "And the 
staff here will give him excellent medical help. We 
will all help him. No matter what he needs...how 
much time it takes."

"How did he get here?"  She watched as he reached 
down to pick up the file and he flicked through the 
file until he came to the admittance page.

"An anonymous call from a phone booth on Jameson 
Street.  Ambulance picked him up there unconscious.  
They were given his name and exact location. He'd 
obviously made it here from wherever he was held. 
He was covered in earth and grass, bit of leaves. 
Looks like he'd come through some rough country. 
From the state of his feet... well he'd been 
running on empty. Sheer adrenalin kept him going. 
Must have travelled for days. But he made it here. 
He got away. And he's alive Dana. "

"We have to get a forensic team out there," she 
jumped up, now with action to be taken she pushed 
her emotions aside and forced Agent Dana Scully to 
the forefront.  "We have to see if-."

"Scully...I've got a team outside waiting for 
instructions.  We'll get this bastard. I don't care 
what it takes. We will nail him." 
    
She almost smiled at his reassuring platitudes but 
without the desire or the energy to do so, she 
watched as he stepped away pulling out his cell 
phone and barked out his commands in as low a tone 
as he could afford.  He had taken the file with him 
and she wondered briefly if it was to save her from 
reading any more horrors committed on her partner's 
poor body.  
    
Beside her a door opened and a nurse in surgery 
scrubs walked out pulling a facemask off as the 
door closed behind her.  She passed Scully with 
only a glance but sitting up, Scully watched as the 
door opened again this time emitting more people 
into the corridor.  The last one to exit stopped 
before her and pulled his facemask under his chin.

"Ms Skinner?" he asked his eyebrows arched into his 
hairline. She tried to avoid starring at the blood 
all over his scrubs, knowing it was likely Mulder's 
blood.

"Dana Scully." She stood and smoothed down the 
front of her jumper.  "We're you operating on Fox 
Mulder? I'm his partner and next of kin."

"Yes I was told to meet with a Skinner afterwards.  
I'm Dr. Rick Wolfe."

" AD. Skinner has just gone to make a phone call.  
How is Mulder?"

"We've reset his arm, the swelling on his face will 
go down and the scans show no real damage to his 
brain. He narrowly avoided a pneumothorax and we 
reset all the broken ribs and we've also stitched 
some damaged muscles in his chest.  The stitches to 
his lower colon will dissolve of their own accord 
but he will be in a lot of discomfort for a while.

"He's going to be okay." Her words were more of a 
mantra than acceptance.
" He's been through the mill and he has a rough 
road ahead but I can see a full recovery for Mr 
Mulder."

"Full recovery?"

"Full physical recovery.  He has quite a long 
journey to go with no shortage of counselling.  The 
staff psychologist will talk to him when he is more 
lucid. They are taking him up in a few minutes. You 
can visit him in ICU."

"Of course."

"We could be looking at release in the next five to 
seven days if he progresses. He's a tough cookie to 
make it this far."

"Thank you, Dr. Wolfe. Can I see him?"

"He will be in recovery for an hour so then 
transferred to a private ICU room on the fourth 
floor.  I'll leave word for them to call you when 
he is settled enough for visitors."
    
He offered her a small smile and stepped around her 
walking back to the nurses' station.  Slumping back 
into the uncomfortable plastic she watched as 
Skinner approached Dr Wolfe.  Their eyes locked 
over the surgeon's shoulder and Scully could almost 
tell exactly what was being shared.  She stood as 
Skinner approached and her wan smile matched his 
own.

"There is a forensic team out by the phone booth 
right now."  He idly scratched his chest through 
the thick grey sweater searching for the right 
thing to say.  "It sounds like Mulder is going to 
be okay."

"His wounds will heal sir, but I'm not sure that he 
will ever be okay again."

She reluctantly let him pull her into a hug. 

"He has to be okay......I need my partner back 
whole. I just hope that he can be the Fox Mulder I 
know again. "

"However long it takes Scully."

"However long it takes..."


The End.

Skinfull 2004
www.undergroundtales.com


Authors Notes: Well first before I say anything I 
HAVE to thank Lisa for her endless beta abilities! 
If it wasn't for her I fear this fic may have 
deteriorated rapidly! I almost feel bad for not 
giving her collaborator credits! 

And now the science bit...this was part one of a 
trilogy. Part two being another of my fics called 
"In The Name Of The Father" which I will post to 
Ephy for those of you who haven't read it or wanna 
read it again. The third piece is called "Borrowed 
Time" but don't go wasting search engine energies 
coz it aint been written yet! (It's about half way 
through!)

Thanks for reading (if you made it this far!) and 
any feedback you have can be sent to 
skinfull@undergroundtales.com