From: GREY853 Date: 13 Apr 1998 00:12:36 GMT Subject: New:Slash: Consent 0/11 M/Sk NC-17 RAPE WARNING Title: Consent 0/11 Author: Grey E-mail: Grey853@aol.com Rating: NC-17--for explicit language, violence and rape. Category: SA Spoilers: Irresistible. Keyword: M/Sk, Slash, Rape Archive: Okay to archive at MKRA/MSSS and anywhere else as long as my name stays attached and none of the text is altered. Warning: This story deals with rape. Though the rape scene is graphic, the main focus of the story is the recovery from trauma. This piece also contains explicit language and situations, and strongly suggests the possibility of child abuse and molestation. This is a very dark ride, my friends. Avoid reading this if any of that is too offensive. Disclaimer: These characters started with CC and I bow to him. Now, I'm borrowing. Notes: 1. Words found in < and > indicate internal POV. 2- I stole the idea at the very end about the spaces between stars from a Robert Frost poem called "Desert Places", so that's why it probably sounds familiar. 3-This monster child started out gen and then the slash buzz hit and I had to change it. It's really more pre-slash and there's no explicit sex between M/Sk. In fact, there's a lot more conversation between Mulder and Scully than our boys. If you're reading for a quick thrill, forget about it. Hell, the guys are so damn shy, they hardly even touch, but there's lots of UST. Will there be a sequel? Maybe. Frankly, the way my mind's been fucking with me lately, I wouldn't be surprised. Consent 1/11 by Grey FBI Headquarters Friday evening "Go home, Mulder." Scully frowned as her partner remained hunched over the most recent batch of horrific crime scene photos. Agreeing to be temporarily loaned out to Behavioral had been a mistake, not because they couldn't eventually solve the case, but because it was having a devastating effect on Mulder. If his actions recently were a pattern, no wonder he cringed anytime someone brought up the early Spooky Days. She worried about his unhealthy pallor and the fact that not only had he not been eating, he was obviously not sleeping either. "Mulder, I said you need to go home for awhile, and don't sit over there pretending you don't hear me." "I hear you, Scully. I'm just not ready to go home right now." "And pray tell, when might you be ready? You haven't been home for at least two nights because those are the backup clothes you keep in your locker." Mulder looked up and removed his glasses. "Now, how do you know that?" "I'm a trained investigator, Mulder. I notice little things like that." Mulder gave a weak grin, and rubbed his blood-shot eyes. "Yeah, well, I'd like to go home, but there's something here I'm not seeing. I need to stick with it awhile longer. It's bound to come to me." "The only thing that's going to come of you staying here much longer is my undying aggravation because I have to drag your sorry butt to the infirmary." Before Mulder could argue, she raised a quick hand. "I don't want to fight, Mulder. You know I'm right. Obsessing to the point of collapse is not going to find this psychopath any faster. It might even slow you down. You get tired, you make mistakes. You know this." Grudgingly Mulder accepted defeat. "Okay, Doc. Tell you what. Let me get some of these files together and I'll go home and be a good boy for the night." "No files." "I'm not going without the files. Look, Scully, I know you mean well. It's that doctor part that's always there to watch out for me, but I can take care of myself." Seeing his partner tilt her head in doubt, he continued before she could interrupt, "I wouldn't be able to sleep at all if I left them here. You know how I am. I'd be running back over here before I got in my door." "There are treatments for Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Mulder." "Yeah, but how many treatments are there for profilers who need those tools to solve the cases no one else can?" Leaning back, Scully admitted, "You have a point. But seriously, Mulder. It hurts to watch you whip yourself like this." "You volunteering for duty, Scully?" "In your dreams, Mulder." Returning to her serious tone, she continued, "You're right. I know exactly how you are. You literally make yourself sick to solve these god awful cases. It scares me, that's all." "It scares me, too, Scully." "But not for the same reason. Sometimes I think I care more about how you treat yourself, than you do yourself. Why is that?" "Because you're a doctor, Scully. It's your nature to worry. Me, I just do whatever I have to do to get the case solved. It hasn't killed me yet." Scully snorted, "Yeah, well that doesn't seem to be for the lack of trying. Okay, take your precious files, but promise me you'll eat and get some rest. It's not normal to go 72 hours without sleeping and not eat enough calories to keep a gnat alive." "A gnat, Scully?" "You heard me. Don't deflect. Promise me you'll eat and go to bed." "Promise." Mulder started to turn to get the folders, but Scully reached over and pulled him around. "Show me your hands, Mulder." Surprised, Mulder looked down at his short partner. "What are you talking about now, Scully?" "I just want to make sure your fingers aren't crossed behind your back, Mulder. Now promise me for real, silly man." He gave a sheepish grin, "Promise, Mom." 8PM that same Friday Mulder went home, stacked the files on his desk, and quickly changed into running sweats. He was too wired to eat. He needed to run. He found that the back roads carried less traffic on Friday nights. There was enough light to see, but not enough to distract. He needed to run, to get away from the bloody images of the ten little dark-haired girls that kept flashing in his mind. Each tiny body blinked to pin point clarity, no bigger than 50 pounds, each one stripped and sliced, the bottom part of each body skinned and the undeveloped genitals mutilated, each girls' nipple sliced off leaving pitiful dark holes. Mulder ran to erase the horror of the chestnut curls that wrapped angelic faces spoiled by a grotesque and unnatural death. What monster would he have to become to catch this evil son of a bitch? So, Mulder ran and ran until his legs trembled. He ran to forget the voice of a sister he couldn't protect or rescue. He continued to run to drown out the curses and the blows that his father delivered time and time again as righteous punishment for his failures. So many failures , so many beatings crowded in sometimes that he couldn't run fast or far enough, but he continued to try. Normally when he was rested and fed, he could run for hours without muscle cramps. Tonight he'd run less than an hour before the twitching worked its way through his calves, up to his thighs, and deep into his groin. He ignored the pain and continued to run. As it started to rain, the slick pavement became treacherous, so he slowed to avoid slipping in the low light. That's when he saw the headlights coming up from behind. He waved the driver on. As the dark van started around, the sudden sharp sting exploded to fire in the small of his back. Mulder stopped running and reached around. There was something there, something like a small dart. The world suddenly got so much colder, so much darker, but not so dark that he couldn't see that the van had gone only slightly ahead and pulled over to the shoulder of the road. Mulder felt himself drop to the wet pavement, concrete scraping against his knees and legs, biting into his bare palms. He couldn't hold himself up. He heard the slam of a car door, the crunch of gravel, and a voice. "Well, Fox, fall down, did we?" Mulder wanted so much to get up and run some more, but the world was just too damn far away. Later at a location unknown Mulder awoke to blackness and a swirling nausea. He tried to roll over to stop the gagging, but only managed to turn onto his side. He didn't vomit, but his gut and throat screamed fire. He prayed to run. Cold cuffs cut his wrists and held his hands above his head to a metal headboard. He heard the clinking sound and registered the denting of the mattress below him. He hated being blindfolded, and, god, his stomach hurt. He pulled his legs up to help lessen the pain in his abdomen and realized he wasn't wearing his sweats, only briefs and a tee-shirt. Icy air licked his skin. Now that his head stopped pounding, he could hear the ceiling fan as it delivered a chilling draft from above. He tried to shift himself into a smaller ball to conserve his own body heat. He had no idea where he was or what was going on, but pretty obviously this was not a good thing. A shuffling sound and a quiet cough came from the left. Cautiously he asked, "Who are you?" He waited, his gut tight with a new spasm. After about a minute a voice finally answered, "I'm glad you're awake, Fox. I've been waiting so long for this, though I must say I did enjoy watching you sleep. You're quite beautiful when you sleep, you know." Mulder ignored the mad dog barking in his brain and tried to keep his voice steady. "You didn't answer my question. Who are you?" A sudden shock ran across his back with the sharp slap of belt against skin. "Don't ask me questions, Fox. I'll ask the questions." Another smack landed lower across his exposed thighs. "Do you understand?" Teeth chattering from the cold and the suddenness of the pain, Mulder nodded. Three slaps hit his back again. Fists pounded into his kidneys. A wide hand slapped his ass. "Answer me, Fox. Share your wonderful voice. Do you understand?" "Yes." Another blow and then the belt hit his thighs again. Mulder tried to move away by stretching out his legs and kicking, but large hands grabbed and pulled him over. While one hand held him face down on the mattress, a fist hit him twice again in the lower back. When the hand eased up, the voice hissed quietly, "Please, don't make me have to hurt you, Fox. I have no desire to cause you any pain and I won't if you don't make me. Now, when you answer, my beautiful young thing, you will say sir. Do you understand?" Tears salted the side of Mulder's face as he managed, "Yes, sir, I understand." The hand stroked the dark hair and then rolled Mulder over onto his aching back. The hand continued to pet Mulder's hair while the other hand rubbed his chest. He couldn't help the shiver that came over him. The hand didn't stop, but the voice whispered, "You are an incredibly beautiful boy. Do you know how truly delicious you are, my dear Fox?" Before he could think of what to answer the voice continued, "Of course, you don't. That's part of the reason why you're so attractive. You are so totally unaware of yourself and how you affect others." The larger body shifted down to the bed beside him. "You're cold, aren't you. Would you like to be warmer? You have to tell me when you need something, Fox. Tell me what you need, dear boy." "I would like some clothes and to get these cuffs off." A hard slap against his chest and his hair being yanked back took his breath away. "I told you, Fox, you have to say sir and with a request you have to say please. Why do you make me hurt you like this? Please don't make me bruise such a wonderful body." Rough fingers pinched his right nipple as the other huge hand pushed against his throat, first tightly, but then ever so teasingly. "I'm sorry, sir. I just want to be released from these cuffs and to have some clothes please, sir." The stroking of the hair started again. "Very nice. See, you can be polite. I am sorry though. I can't get rid of the cuffs quite yet. As for your clothes. I had to remove them. They were all wet and muddy from your little tumble. You have to be more careful running along the streets at night, my lovely Fox." "You shot me with something." A rough hand grabbed his balls. The squeezing stopped when Mulder gagged and choked on his own bile. "Don't vomit, Fox. I'd hate to have to clean you up again. Now, I've warned you about not using sir. I hope you don't make me hurt you much more than this. You have to be more careful with your tone. You know about discipline, Fox." His voice tight, air constricted, Mulder whispered, "Yes, sir, I do know about that." "Better, dear boy." A soft blanket came up slowly across Mulder's legs. It stopped at the waist. An arm helped reposition him almost upright so that his captor's arm caged his neck. His body trembled, leaning back against the larger man's chest. Heated breath, burned an air trail across his cheek. Muscles and deep tissue shuddered and stretched the bones to breaking. "Would you like to hear my plans, dear Fox?" The pinch of his right nipple brought him back. "Answer, my sweet." "Yes, sir. Please tell me about your plans." "You know I've been watching you for years now, since before you were even in Washington. I knew your father." Mulder stiffened as if the man had struck him. "You knew my father?" The man pinched his ear before he said, "You are such a stubborn little man. Say sir." Mulder took a deep breath. "How did you know my father, sir?" A hand slipped under Mulder's shirt and stroking began, slow circles and then gentle lines down the middle of his abdomen. "I worked with him." "You know I hate to say this about a man responsible for bringing such a lovely being into the world but your father was quite an asshole." After a short pause, the voice continued. "Of course, everyone knew how he treated you, but no one would do anything. Despite the fact that he was such a son of a bitch, he did have a lot of power. He had a real tight grip on the balls of the country." The rubbing of his chest stopped. A hand caressed the side of his face and softly brushed back stubbornly wayward hair. "I wanted to do something, but I was ordered not to. I'm so sorry about that. I've done a lot of bad things in my life, Fox, things I'm not proud of, but I suppose that's probably one of the worst, letting that SOB abuse you with impunity like he did." Mulder wanted to pull away, to wrap himself under the cover of the total darkness he felt. He refused to let himself remember his father. He couldn't let himself remember the touches or the pain. The man gripped him more tightly. "I fell in love with you when you were a child, Fox. I know that sounds sick. But I thought of it as a special bond. I never acted on it until now." Mulder tried to keep his voice even. "So, why are you acting on it now, sir?" "Because it's time, Fox. I let you go off to Oxford and watched you about kill yourself in BSU. Then you started on the X-Files. My god, you are a blaze of passion when you work. It's inspiring to watch, but I have to say, watching just isn't enough anymore. Things are changing. I need more. You need more." "More what, sir?" Lips pressed down against his cheek and fingers lightly brushed against his lips. A hand slipped beneath the covers, past the elastic band to stroke his cock. "More of this, my lovely boy. More of this." His cock defied him and began to respond to the touch. He hated himself and the man holding him. "Please, sir, don't do that." The hand stopped. "You don't like it? Your body says you like it a lot." "I don't like it, sir." "I'd never do anything without your consent, Fox. Believe me, I won't hurt you unless you make me and I won't make love to you unless you allow it. I'm not a rapist." "I'd like to go home, sir." A firestorm blazed through his right shoulder as the man jerked his arm back up behind him, forcing it beyond the limits of the cuffs. "I hate it when people make me to do things like that, Fox. Why is it so hard to understand and accept how much I love you. I want you? I have to make you realize just how important you are to me." He let Mulder's shoulder come back into a more comfortable position, but the burning ache continued. "Let me tell you more about what I've seen of your life lately, Fox." "I won't change my mind, sir." A quick shift brought the sound of a metal lid opening followed by the strong scent of wintergreen. A cool liquid spread across his nipples, and a breezy sensation floated across his chest. "Oh, I think you'll change your mind, Fox. Did I forget to mention how fond I am of your Agent Scully?" "What about Scully? Sharp fingernails scraped a path down the center of his exposed belly. A sharp intake of breath came before he managed to say, "What about Scully, sir?" A damp cloth ran along the scratches on his stomach, a clash of cold against the sticky warm trail. The man beside him chuckled as he continued to clean up his captive. The heavier man leaned in tighter before he finally spoke. "Got your attention, eh, Fox? You can fool others, but I KNOW how you feel about Scully. I mean, who wouldn't want to fuck her? She is a lovely little bitch." Mulder clenched his jaw, barely containing the army of raw words ready to fight. "Yes, I've seen how you look at her when you think no one can see. Tell me, little Fox, do you see her lovely pussy in your mind when jerk yourself off at night? Do you taste her sweet thick juices as you imagine sucking on her clit, stroking her ass with your fingers? Do you see yourself fucking her tiny tight ass with that wonderful cock of yours, Fox? Tell me how you want her, Fox." Mulder yanked at the cuffs, pulling himself away with all his strength only to be flipped and pinned back down against the bed, the side of his face pushed into the mattress. The man lay stretched out on top of him. The weight crushed his air away as a tongue licked his ear. A husky voice whispered, "You want her to be safe, Fox? Do you want the power to protect your precious Scully? Well, do you, Fox?" Mulder could barely breathe, the man's bulk an ugly hand across his life. "Yes, sir." Roughly holding Mulder down with one hand, he used the other to remove the briefs. Then he leaned back in, grinding his hips and erect cock against Mulder's rear as he edged his legs further apart. "I snatched you easily, Fox. I could have her here in no time. I could be the one fucking her while you watched. I could drape her across the bed and spread those tight cheeks. She'd cry out and moan when I leaned in and ripped her open, my hungry cock ramming full force into that tight little round ass of hers." Aroused by his own words, the man pushed harder against Mulder's rear. "She'd let me do it with her consent, Fox." Tears streaked the young man's face as his assailant's erection pressed into him. "No, sir, she wouldn't." He suddenly pushed Mulder's knees forward. Strong arms wrapped around his waist and grabbed his cock, stroking it roughly. "Oh, but she would, Fox, she would. She would let me to save you. Won't you do the same for her?" "I don't understand, sir." "Save her, Fox. Keep her safe. Let me fuck you, and I promise to leave her alone. I swear it. Your Scully would be yours, safe forever." His abused cock withered and refused to respond to the intense, torturous stroking. The man behind him shifted awkwardly and raised Mulder's hips higher. "Sir, please don't do this." "Not even for Scully? I told you, Fox. I won't make love to you unless you give consent, but I could fuck Scully's ass instead. I could suck her sweet juices and make her cry. Do you want that? Do you, Fox?" "Don't you love her, Fox? I would've sworn you did, but if I'm wrong, just tell me. I don't have to do this to you. Her sweet pussy and excellent ass would be safe with me. Just tell me what to do, Fox, and I'll do it." "Do you promise not to hurt her, sir?" "You have my word, Fox. Now tell me, do I fuck you or do I fuck Scully?" "Fuck me." The man shoved a finger into Mulder's ass, using the pumping action and lube to get the tight opening ready. "That's sir, Fox. Say it. Say you want me to fuck you." The taste of copper coated his tongue as Mulder bit his lip until it bled. "Please, sir, fuck me, not Scully." Two fingers and then three pushed into him violently. Strong hands pulled his hips back and Mulder rolled in a wave of nausea as the tip of the thick cock pressed into him. Flames seared flesh, tissues burned to ash. A world of red blaze fired through his back up through his brain to cauterized sealed lids too dry to tear. "Oh my beautiful boy. You have no idea how long I've waited for you to let me do this." Even more intense burning brought on cramps and spasms shaking down his legs as the man rammed forward. The heat and pain took his breath away. His back arched and he cried out. The pumping began. Harder. Muscles tore as every brain cell collapsed and melted to agony. The relentless attack ripped through veins and thin tissue. His attacker grabbed his cock again, stroking it in a matching rhythm to his own brutal pumping. Raw pain swamped his shoulder, teeth tearing into him, ripping away flesh. Suddenly shoving forward and settling still, his captor climaxed. Without warning, dizziness overwhelmed him. He retched nothing but bile, but the dry heaving continued until the man finally withdrew. The warm cum and blood leaked down his thighs and soaked the bed beneath his damaged body. Slowly the heavy weight shifted off his back allowing a damp chill to sweep over him. A hand fumbled with the cuffs and one of his hands fell with release. He immediately raised himself enough to wipe the slime from his mouth. A damp cloth brushed against his lips. "I'm sorry, Fox. You aren't well. I should've realized. Here, drink this." A straw snaked it's way into his mouth. Thirsty, he sucked on what tasted like cola, but not quite. "Come on, my lovely boy, drink it all now." "Please, let me go, sir." A cool hand lightly touched his forehead as he turned over onto his back. A few moments passed before a breathy voice spoke. "Soon, Fox. I'll take you home soon. Right now, you need to rest. I swear I never wanted you to be hurt by this. I really didn't. The pain won't last long, and then you'll understand why I had to do it. Someday you'll thank me. Just go to sleep. Things will be better soon. Trust me, Fox." Mulder didn't notice how dark and deep the hole was until he fell into it. End of part 1/11 Consent 2 by Grey Sunday 11 P.M. Mulder's Apartment Another headache pounded until Mulder woke up. Everything hurt including his soul. This time he wasn't blindfolded and he wasn't handcuffed to anything. He was back in his sweats and he was stretched out on his own couch. He sat up and fought against the dizziness. On the coffee table was a note. Dear Fox, I'm watching. Just remember, you belong to me. Any time. Any place. Yours, Lover Mulder barely made it to the toilet before he heaved. Of course, he hadn't eaten anything in forever, so only air and what felt like his entire insides came up. It hurt to sit down. It hurt to stand. He put his hand to his throat and tried to swallow without choking. It wasn't easy. Glancing in the mirror, haunted eyes starred back. A dark bruise encircled his neck. He shook his head trying to clear the fog, but failed miserably. He wanted to remember what happened, but he didn't want to remember. Calling down the whispers of oblivion, he shoved away the temptation of shattering glass. He fumbled with his sticky clothes and stripped off. Awkwardly he managed to get into the shower and let the hot water wash over him. He lathered soap over his exhausted body, letting the suds sting the bite, the scratches, and all around his ass. He could hardly bring himself to touch his bruised and swollen cock. He watched the pink suds swirl away down the drain. In the back of his mind, Mulder realized he must be bleeding, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He knew there would never be enough hot water or soap to ever make him feel clean again. He leaned against the slippery tile and let himself slide down to the bottom of the stall. After awhile the water started to turn colder and he just crouched there, dizzy to spinning with the memories that tried to swallow him alive. It took way too much energy to turn off the water, too much energy just to breathe. He wrapped his long arms around his chest as the uncontrollable shaking began. To finish it all would be so easy. Monday Morning 7:30 A.M. FBI Headquarters. Scully walked into the office, coffee in hand, not at all surprised to find Mulder sitting behind his desk as if he'd never left. She'd just heard about how he'd sent a bulletin up to Skinner with the name of the most likely suspect. Leave it to Mulder to break the case while no one was looking. What stopped her cold at the office door was the shocking appearance of her partner. He'd obviously cut his lip badly, he needed a shave, and his skin color was tinged a sickly gray. "Jesus, Mulder, you look like shit." "Nice language to start the work week, Scully. A good morning or have a nice weekend would've been plenty." "Yeah, but it wouldn't have made the point. I'm serious, Mulder. What did you do, work all weekend after you promised to rest?" Mulder dropped his hands down under the desk so she couldn't see them tremble. Without looking up from the documents on his desks, he simply said. "I did the best I could, Scully. I wanted to finish this profile before the meeting with the team at nine. I was up all night and had a breakthrough on some of the evidence. I sent a recommendation up to Skinner right before you got here." Nervously he shuffled the papers and picked up a pen. "I think I've got a handle on the details, if I could just have little bit more time alone with it." "Don't mind me, Mulder. It's not like this is my office, too." Mulder brought his hand to his face careful that the cuffs didn't slip and reveal the dark bruising around his wrists. He tried to keep from wincing at the pain in his shoulder, but didn't quite manage it. His back ached from the bruised kidneys and he wasn't all that comfortable sitting down. "I'm sorry, Scully. I know it's your office, too. "I just need to focus on this." Scully came over to her partner and placed a hand on his shoulder. He jerked away as if burnt, but she controlled her concern by keeping her voice neutral. "Mulder, tell me what's wrong." "Nothing, Scully. I'm just tired, that's all." Not believing a word, she just nodded. "Sure, Mulder, whatever you say. I'll just go over here and sit quietly while you mastermind your profile so you can dazzle us with your genius come nine o'clock." When there was no witty comeback, Scully searched his face again for some clue to what was going on with her best friend and partner. It hurt to look at his face. It was so incredibly sad. "Mulder, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I'm just worried about you is all." Still keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact, he barely answered. "I know, Scully." "Don't worry so much. I'll be fine." "Well, I'm going down and talk to Connors before the meeting. If you change your mind and want to talk, let me know." "Sure." No sooner had Scully left the room and Mulder was in the john throwing up the little bit of coffee he'd been able to force down. His throat throbbed, scalded and raw. Then when he'd gotten the retching under control, he discovered that he was also passing blood in his urine. Before he left he bathroom, he turned to check himself in the mirror only to see what Scully saw, a disaster. He did look like shit. His lip was bleeding again. His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles surrounded by dark circles. No wonder Scully worried when she saw him. He's seen better looking corpses on her tables. He tightened his tie up around the high collar that hid the wide bruising around his neck. It was hard enough to swallow the first time. He was going to have to get over all this puking before he ripped something important. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. "Hey, Mulder, you in there?" It was Connors from the team. "Come on out, Spooky. Scully sent me down to check on you." He took a deep breath, tried a weak smile, and opened the door. "Yeah, and when Scully says go fetch, you go fetch, right, Connors?" The young man looked at Mulder, the shock not very well disguised. "Hey man, you look rough. You got that bug that's been going around or what?" "Flu bugs have no respect for government officials, Connors." "Yeah, sort of like the rest of the world. But seriously, maybe if you're going to puke or faint, you ought to go home." "And let you and Scully take all the credit for this praiseworthy profile I'm about to present. No way. I do need to go back and get it off my desk though. Go on back to Scully and the rest and tell them I'll be there in just a minute." Connors noticed Mulder's unsteady hands and registered the bruising. He'd seen it too many times on victims not to recognize the classic presentation caused by restraints. Connors had heard all the stories about Spooky and he was living up to most of them. He didn't even want to imagine what was going on with this man, so instead he just looked away uneasily. "Sure, Mulder. Whatever you say." Mulder watched the newcomer head back up the stairs and then looked down at his hands. His blood sugar was dropping. He needed something to eat, but just the thought of food made him want to head back into the toilet. Maybe some nice, flat ginger ale would do the trick. 9:10 in a Meeting room Mulder walked into the room with a folder in one hand and a soda in the other. Around the table sat six agents besides Scully. Walter Skinner sat at the end facing where Mulder would be seated. "Sorry I'm late. I needed to get a few more notes and make some more copies. Did everybody get those?" AD Skinner nodded and said, "We've all read over them, Agent Mulder. How can you be so sure that the man we're looking for is this Todd McGraw? It's amazing that no one ever made the connection before." "Not really, sir." Mulder felt himself unconsciously cringe at the word sir. Skinner noticed the Mulder's stiff posture and obvious discomfort. He wanted more than anything to be alone with the man, to comfort him, to make sure he was all right. Of course, that would never happen, so he decided just to keep going, business as usual. "Explain, Agent Mulder. I've had a warrant issued for this man based on your profile and recommendation. I want an absolutely clear picture before anyone goes toe to toe with the suspect." Mulder placed his drink and folders on the table and took a deep breath before he began speaking. "No one made the connection to McGraw before now, because he was really careful about the clues he left. He wanted to be caught, just not right away. At every site he left just a bit more of himself. I outlined the progression on the list. I suppose what made it leap out at me was at the last crime scene. On all the previous sites the crowd shots were pretty full. I noticed this guy showing up in some of the photos, but on the last scene, he was in every shot, almost like he was posing for the camera. He even gave a statement to one of the first cops on the scene. When I searched to find out who the guy was, I found McGraw. I also found that he'd given a statement at two of the earlier scenes, but under different names. When I searched his background, I found out that he was the son of a minister who had been convicted of murder and rape of 4 little girls including McGraw's sister Amy. He's repeating what he probably witnessed as a boy. He hates what he does, but can't seem to stop himself. That's why he's moving closer and closer, trying to get our attention." "And when did you discover all this Mulder?" "Last night, sir. I couldn't sleep and I knew there was something there. It was staring right at me all along. I just didn't see it." AD Skinner shook his head and marveled at the brilliance that saw the tiny hint of twist against the greater curves. Mulder could track the devil into his own haunted nest and survive. "I put out the warrant an hour ago. McGraw should be in custody by the end of the day." "I'm just sorry I didn't catch on sooner. The clues were there. I should've seen them." Scully jumped in before anyone else could speak, "Don't be ridiculous, Mulder. We all looked at the same evidence and came up with nothing even close to this. Connors seconded her vote. "She's right, Mulder. You're the one who should get the credit for getting that sicko off the streets." Mulder shook his head and whispered, "If I'd seen it sooner, the last few victims could've been saved. I should've made the connection at least two little girls sooner." As Mulder turned to leave, Skinner's voice stopped him. "Agent Mulder, wait. I'd like to see you for a few minutes. The rest of you, except for Agent Scully may leave. Agent Connors, please inform me when word of McGraw's arrest comes through." "Yes, sir." The rest of the team left the room quietly and Skinner shut the door. "Sit down, Agent Mulder." Slowly Mulder eased himself into the chair, but his stiffness was more than obvious to both the other people in the room. "Agent Mulder, would you like to tell me what's going on with you?" Mulder refused to look up, he cheeks growing more pale as he sat there wondering just how far Walter would push and how much energy he would need to stay in one piece. "I'm not sure what you mean, sir." "Bullshit, Mulder." Mulder looked up, shocked by Walter's harsh words and tone. Even when his boss had been really outraged about one of Mulder's private little excursions, he'd never used that word before, at least not in the office. Mulder looked over at Scully who remained way too quiet for his liking. Her arms were crossed and she looked at him with that look she got whenever she was going to do something that he was really going to hate, but was for his own good. "I really am fine, sir. I appreciate your concern, but as you can see I've been working really hard to close this case, and I'm just a little tired. I might even have a touch of that flu that's going around, but nothing else." "The flu, Agent Mulder? Did the flu chew up half your lip or make you walk around looking like you went fifteen rounds with Muhammad Ali in his prime? I don't think so. I think you went and got yourself in some trouble this weekend and, as usual, you don't want any help. Well, that's not going to work this time." Scully jumped in. "Mulder, you obviously are in a lot of pain. You can't keep anything down. You look like you're going to fall down any minute. Connors said he heard you vomiting again. You know there aren't any secrets around here when it comes to people retching in the restrooms. It's not like you can do that sort of thing quietly." Scully's voice got softer before she continued, "And, Mulder, your cuffs aren't long enough to cover those bruises on your wrists. You are not well, but it's not the flu. You have to talk to someone." "Is that why you went running to Skinner? "Agent Scully did not come to me about this, Mulder. I have eyes and I know my agents. I'm responsible for you. Right now my main concern is to find out if you're going to pass out on us or not." Mulder gripped the edge of the table and tried to keep his voice level, reminding himself that both these people were really concerned about him. "With all due respect, sir. I am not that sick nor am I in any trouble. I just want to finish this case and go home." Skinner crossed his arms, a matched set to Scully's stance. "Okay, Agent Mulder, I'll make a deal with you. Take off your shirt and let Agent Scully examine you and if she doesn't find evidence of a pretty significant beating, you can go home with my apologies for jumping to conclusions." Mulder swallowed hard before he spoke. "Look, sir, I did fall while I was out running this weekend, so yeah, I'm a little stiff. No big deal. It was a stupid accident and I didn't want to say anything." With deep concern in her voice, Scully pleaded, "Mulder, why are you lying about this? What's going on?" Not daring to look up, his shaky hands held down in his lap below the table, Mulder just whispered, "I'm not lying, Scully. I did fall. Please, just let it drop. I promise that I'm really okay." "Let Agent Scully examine you, Mulder, or I'm putting you on immediate sick leave until another physician has seen and released you." Mulder shook his head stubbornly, but Skinner persisted. "I'm not making any deals about this." Mulder waited a moment, weighing his options and finally nodded in defeat, "Okay, but I don't want Scully to do the exam." Skinner and Scully exchanged concerned looks and Skinner said hoarsely, "Okay, Mulder. We're going over to the infirmary." "I can go by myself, sir." "Sure you can, Mulder. I just need the exercise. Sitting behind a desk too long makes it hard to keep fit." Mulder stood slowly and then looked up at Scully. "I'm sorry, Scully. I just can't talk about this." "I know, Mulder." Skinner moved in along side of Mulder before he turned to Scully and said, "Take care of things here for awhile." "Yes, sir." Scully held her breath while she watched the two men walk out of the room. She felt like the air had been stolen. AD Skinner walked tall beside Mulder who seemed to almost fold in on himself. "My god, Mulder, what's happened this time?" An hour later The doctor's report shocked Walter Skinner like the first glimpses of the holocaust. He clutched while pushing his rage back into its dark cage. Then he knocked before entering the room. Mulder sat on the table, a mass of bruises across his back and a savage red bite on his shoulder. "Agent Mulder, do you want to tell me what really happened now?" "Not really, sir." Skinner shifted nervously before he continued. "Dr. Merrick recommends that you go over to Georgetown Medical for a full exam since you refused to let him do one despite the fact that you're bleeding. He also says you're dangerously dehydrated, have blood in your urine from bruised kidneys, and that the bite is infected. You need fluids, but apparently can't keep anything down long enough to do much good and that you'll need antibiotics." "Doctors are alarmists, sir. Haven't you noticed that?" "Actually I haven't. I can't force you to tell me what happened, but I do need to make you take your doctor's advice. You're on medical leave until you are verified fit for duty. Now, get dressed and I'll drive you to the hospital." Mulder reached for his shirt, but only made it part way there before he found himself doing a one-sided dance with the floor. The end of part 2/11 Consent 3/11 by Grey Sometime later in Georgetown Medical He woke up in a hospital bed with IV fluids being forced into his left arm. God, he was tired of waking up feeling so goddamned tired. What was the point of passing out if you didn't wake up feeling any better? "Mulder, how do you feel?" Scully's hand held his. He jerked away and couldn't bring himself to look at her. "I'm okay, Scully." "Sure you are, Mulder. Maybe if you say that enough times we'll all believe it." "I'm sorry, Scully. I don't know what to say. I just want to be left alone." In her most practiced I'm going to humor you just for a little while, Mulder voice, she said, "Okay, Mulder. I'll be back a later when your fluids are up and your fever down." As soon as she left, Mulder raised his free arm to cover his eyes. He wanted oblivion. He needed to not think and yet all he could do was think, think about the hands, the terrible thrusting, the awful consent he gave to keep Scully safe. While he was lying there a nurse came in with a needle. He stopped her and asked, "What is that?" "Just a little Valium to let you sleep. You need some more rest. Looks like you really haven't slept in awhile." "I don't need it." "Well, the doctor ordered it and you do need it." "I have the right to refuse medication." The middle-aged, slightly chunky nurse tilted her head and studied the young man in the bed. She had kind brown eyes, but a no-nonsense tone. "Sure, honey, you can refuse it, but then it'll probably take you longer to get out of this place. Then again maybe that's what you want. Do you like staying in hospitals? Seems like you make more visits than most." "How would you know that?" "Your medical file takes up most of the nurses' station. "Oh." "You need the shot, Mr. Mulder. You've been through a terrible experience and you need to get your strength back." Mulder felt to exhausted to fight about it anymore. "Okay. You win." She put the medication into his IV line and started to leave. "The counselor will be in to see you a little later after you wake up." Mulder tightened up. "What counselor?" "The rape counselor, Mr. Mulder. She can help if you let her. Now, just lie back and try to sleep." The drug hit his system before he had much more time to worry about why Walter had left and stolen his gun. Later that same evening. Mulder awoke to bone-numbing cold and the sensation of his own teeth chattering. He tried to shift to a sitting position, but panicked when he discovered both wrists in leather restraints. "What the fuck's going on with this shit?" Skinner's hand reached over and pushed Mulder back down in the bed. "Lie back, Mulder." "What the hell's going on? Get these goddamn things off me." Mulder continued to struggle against the cloth bonds, while Skinner pushed the call button by the bed. "Listen, Mulder, behave and don't go crazy about this. You were confused and not quite lucid for awhile there. You kept trying to pull out the IV's. They had to keep you restrained so you wouldn't hurt yourself anymore." "Well, I'm awake and on full alert now, sir. Get them the hell off. NOW." Mulder dropped his head back on the pillow, flashes of being held down running through his mind. Tears slid down the sides of his face. "Jesus, Walter. Just get them off. Please." "Mulder, calm down. I know you're scared, but..." "I'm not scared. I'm pissed. Get them off." "I said settle down, Mulder. Listen to me. The doctor will be here in a minute. Just as soon as we're sure you won't pull anything out or try to get out of bed, he'll take them off. Just be patient." "Fuck patience, sir. I've sort of used up my quota of that lately." "Like you had big share before, Mulder." The original intensity eased. Both men relaxed slightly, almost comfortable in their roles. "Yeah, well, it never was one of my strongest features." His heartbeat slowing down, Mulder realized that having Walter Skinner there helped ease the free-floating fear swarming through his skin, diving through his deepest tissue. The AD made his world a tiny bit safer. A middle-aged, dark-hair man wearing the doctor's white coat came in the room. Mulder didn't recognize him. "Glad to see you're awake, Mr. Mulder. I'm Dr. Boysen. You had us going there for a minute." "Get these restraints off, Doctor, before I get you going even more." "Now, now, Mr. Mulder. You have to promise not to rip out anymore IV's. Nurses get a little irritated when they have to keep cleaning up blood sprays and restarting lines." "I promise, Doc. Just get these things off. I have a thing about being tied down, okay." Mulder didn't fail to notice the serious exchange of looks between Boysen and Skinner. Dr. Boysen nodded for Skinner to do the right wrist, while he released the strap on the left and checked the line while he was at it. Mulder reached over and rubbed his sore left arm, noticing a whole row of new bruises. "Better, Mr. Mulder?" "Yeah, thanks, Doc. Now, when can I get out of here? Boysen's face twisted with a touch of surprise. "Get out? I'm afraid that's not going to happen for a least 4 or 5 days. We'll have to wait and see how you respond to your medications and your treatments." Panicked, chest tightening, Mulder shook his head, "Days? I can't stay here that long." Skinner put a hand on Mulder's shoulder, but removed it at the automatic flinch. "Mulder, you've got some serious problems to deal with here. McGraw's in custody and has confessed. Your case is pretty well wrapped up. You've got no other pressing cases. There's time to rest and recuperate." "I can rest at home, sir." "Normally maybe, but not right now. I've got a 24-hour guard posted outside. You'll be safe here." "I can take care of myself. I want to go home." Dr. Boysen looked at his chart and then back at his uncooperative patient. "Mr. Mulder, before I go over just all the details about why it's so important for you to stay here awhile longer, would you like Mr. Skinner to leave?" "Leave?" "I'm an FBI agent, doctor. He's my boss. Anything you tell me, he probably already knows or will find out. There doesn't seem to be much point in his leaving now." Dr. Boysen nodded and then took a deep breath. "I want you to listen very carefully, Mr. Mulder. You don't seem to understand the seriousness of some of your injuries. While you were unconscious, I had to do emergency surgery to repair the tears and stop the increased bleeding caused by the anal trauma you suffered. Didn't you notice the periodic hemorrhaging before? "I thought it would stop." The voice sounded small, tripping over the simple words. "Well, you lost several pints of blood and your blood pressure dropped to a dangerous level. I've put you on massive doses of antibiotic to avoid peritonitis and to treat the infected kidneys as well as the laceration to your shoulder. There is always the possibility that one or both of your kidneys could fail, one from trauma, one from previous damage. We have to monitor to prevent that. We've taken blood tests for HIV and STD's, but those aren't back yet. In addition, your fever is making it difficult to reduce the dehydration and in general I would say your overall state of exhaustion is not helping any aspect of your situation." "So what you're saying is that I'm pretty much in shitty shape." "Shitty is not exactly the medical term I would've used, but yes, I'd say that pretty much sums it up. I mean, when exactly was the last time you ate anything that stayed down?" "Do sunflower seeds count?" "About as much as air. I'm going to put you on a liquid, high-calorie diet for awhile." "That would be the Ensure plan, right?" Boysen shook his head, already frustrated. "Yeah. I see you're familiar with our routine. Sorry, but I don't think it comes in sunflower flavored yet." His expression sobered even more. "Mr. Mulder, based on your previous medical records you tend to neglect yourself and often have delayed your own recovery by refusing to eat. If you try that with me, I promise you that I will put in a feeding tube." Mulder started to interrupt, but Boysen cut him off. "We have to build you up. If we can't get fluids and calories in you, the infections are harder to fight. And I'm not going to kid you. Your physical condition is not the only thing that concerns me." "Cure the body, Doc. I'll take care of my own mind, thank you." Skinner's deep voice intruded on the conversation. "Mulder, I don't think this is going to be something you can take care of entirely on your own." Mulder closed his eyes and hiding in the darkness behind the sealed lids. "Walter, I know you mean well, but this isn't something I can talk about." The AD's voice caught for a moment, still surprised at the use of his first name. He recovered quickly and argued, but with a more calm tone. "Mulder, you've been assaulted. We need to file a report. We gathered evidence from your apartment, but you need to make a statement." "You had no right to go into my apartment. Shit. You had no fucking right to do that." "We had every right. A crime was committed against you, Mulder. When we catch this guy, physical evidence beyond your injuries and testimony could be crucial in putting the perp in prison." Mulder closed his eyes and turned away. "I'm not making a statement. It's my decision and I'm not going to talk about it." Skinner paused slightly, uneasy, and finding it difficult to find the right words. "You were violated in a terrible manner. I can't imagine what it must be like. There's no shame in needing help." Mulder squeezed his lids harder trying to fight back more tears. "Sir, I know what you're saying is true. In my mind I know it, but I don't feel it." He shook his head, his eyes still tightly shut. Words trembled on an unsteady air. "I just can't talk to anyone about what happened. Not yet, maybe never. I just can't. Please, Walter. I just can't." "It's okay, Mulder. We can decide what to do later when you're better." "No, sir. It's decided. Back off. I'm not going to talk about this. It's my life, my body. Just stay the fuck out of my business." Boysen showed his concern for his patient's escalating distress and dangerous readings by retrieving a syringe and injecting a sedative directly into Mulder's IV. "Mulder, just calm down for now. No one's going to make you talk about anything right away." "No one's going to make me do anything, Doctor. Just give me whatever fucking papers I need to sign and let me out of here." Mulder grabbed for his IV line and started to get out of bed. Skinner wrestled to control Mulder's hands. "Settle down, Mulder." "Leave me the fuck alone. Why can't everybody just mind their own goddamn business?" Struggling against Skinner's attempt to restrain him, he growled, "Get your hands off me, Walter. Don't fucking touch me!" Valium slowed down his runaway, irregular breathing. His eyes suddenly lost focus as his head fell to the pillow and the rest of his body slumped back into the bed. Boysen checked the readings and shook his head. "I'm afraid our Mr. Mulder has quite a difficult road ahead." As he placed Mulder's wrists back in the restraints, he looked over at Skinner and said, "You know I'm going to have to get psych to come in on this just to be safe. Based on what I've seen and read in his history, I can't take any chances. He may not be able to control himself for awhile. "I understand, Doctor. Just do what you have to." The assistant director gazed down at the sleeping man. Unconscious, he looked so much younger, and much too vulnerable. Sometimes when he least expected it, he found himself thinking of Mulder like some dark, tortured angel. He'd never known anyone so physically beautiful both in spirit and body, so tempting and so incredibly dangerous at the same time. Mulder dedicated all his passion to his job or his quest, leaving no room for personal connection. Walter respected the man's integrity and loyalty, but he feared for him like no other person in his life. Nobody he'd ever know suffered more than Mulder. Nobody had ever touched him so deeply as the melancholy force of nature lying before him. It never once occurred to him that he could fall in love with anyone who could swallow his very soul, devouring his very will and that he, Walter Skinner would beg to give even more. AD Skinner shook his head, weary to his very bones. ************* Mulder walked along a gray beach in Chilmark bare-footed and exposed. It was a low, dark November sky, the sun ashamed to show his sorry face. Along the shoreline corpses from all his past cases lay like so many rotting fish. Hundreds of children sprawled before him, some naked, some clothed, all pitiful in their helplessness. Women of all ages, arms and legs spread wide, wove themselves like dark straw amidst the smaller bundles. Men and boys spotted the edges of the restless sea. The fuzzy edges of the water rolled in and wrapped decaying remains. A ripe stench of spoiled flesh and salty brine skated on the wind. Tan foam curled around the bodies and littered the space with slimy seaweed and debris. He heard the crying of seagulls, but could not hear the roar of the ocean waves. It was as though someone had masked the sound of nature around him to allow him only bits and pieces of this freezing, windswept world. As he continued to walk along, he stepped over and around the bodies trying to figure out why he was here, wherever here was. Confused he jammed his hands in the pockets of the navy woolen jacket he wore. He remembered it was the jacket Samantha had helped him buy for Thanksgiving so many years ago. His eyes burned with confusion and the light blurred while he continued to move through the carnage around him. Gradually he focused in on one of the children just to the right. A naked dark-haired boy of about 12 lay on his side while a scavenging gull peck away the bulge of his remaining eye. The corpse's sides, legs, and arms all had chunks of flesh missing, gaps in his fragile being. Mulder stopped and stared at the bloated face. He could almost remember where he'd seen it before when he heard a voice call from a few feet away. "Fox, why are you here?" He looked up to see an 8-year-old Samantha, her head slightly tilted, watching him. "Samantha? Where have you been? Where exactly are we?" "Fox, you can't stay here. This is a very dangerous place. It scares me." Mulder shook his head. God, his head pounded again. He looked back at his sister. "Samantha, please tell me that this is not where you stay." Samantha smiled slightly. "No, Fox. This is the far edge of the world. I only come here when you do. It's a haunted place. I don't like it here. You need to go back. Go back to Scully and Walter. They need you, Fox." "Scully? Walter? You know about them?" "I know everything you know, Fox. She's your best friend. And he's something else. He's your friend, too, but more." He pushed away the image of Walter, unable to focus on anything but his sister's voice. "You're my best friend, Sam." "Thanks, buttmunch, but I'm not around right now. Let your friends help you. I don't want to have to visit you here. It scares me. You scare me, Fox." He wanted to run up and put his arms around the little girl, but he couldn't move. His head hurt worse, and he grew heavy and clammy with the cold. "How do I scare you, Sam?" "It's too lonely here. You're too lonely and sad. The world doesn't have to be like this." "It's the only way I know." "I know and that's why you have to go. Leave before it's too late. Don't let Dad or the others win." The mention of his father brought a hammer blow to the back of his head. He fell to his knees, the wet sand soaking into the fabric of his thin jeans. His hands sank into the ground and he felt himself being sucked into the gritty earth. Terror wrapped him up, but he would not let himself scream. The greedy earth was starving and eating him alive. Sam walked over to him when only his head remained above the surface. She kneeled beside him and lightly touched his face, cupping his chin in her small, cool hand. "Fox, go home and remember everything you need to. Remember the good as well as the bad. Understand?" In a weak and trembling voice, Mulder whispered, "I can't, Sam. It'll destroy me. I can't think about it. I don't dare remember all of it. It would kill me, Sam. It really would." Mulder felt the bile rise in his throat as he swallowed some of the grimy sand. "No it won't, Fox. I promise. It'll free you. Let go, Fox. Go home and finally remember the truth. Save yourself before it's too late." Again she stroked his face, but then stood to leave. "Sam, don't go!" Mulder called out desperately to the departing back of his lost sister. She didn't turn around, but faded as she walked past all the bodies that lined the beach like chalky, broken shells. Still choking, Mulder sank deeper as the foamy edges of the sea erased his face. He was drowning in a very dark place. End of Part 3/11 Consent 4/11 by Grey Late Tuesday evening Georgetown Medical At first he thought he was back in Alaska. Frigid temperatures and icy needles pricked at his exposed skin. Mulder wanted nothing more than to be able to reach down and pull the covers up over his head, to block out the cold and the light. Unfortunately with the return of consciousness, he realized that once again his arms were restrained by his sides. Braving the light, he opened his eyes into slits, letting himself slowly adjust to brightness. Carefully turning his head to avoid shattering his sensitive skull, he saw Scully lying back in a chair. She obviously had been there a long time before dozing off. He remembered Sam's words to him, that she needed him. He wanted to believe that, and watching her while she slept made him almost imagine that it could be true. His partner suddenly shifted, sat up abruptly, and looked over at Mulder. "Thank god, you're awake. Jesus, Mulder, you could give a girl a breakdown with your antics." His brief smile faded at his friend's distress. "Sorry, Scully. I didn't mean to worry you." Scully stood up, straightening herself quickly, before coming to his bedside. She smiled and said, "You never do, Mulder, but you always do. You'd think I'd be used to it by now." "You'd think." Scully shook her head. "I'll never be used to it, Mulder. Never." She reached over and cautiously touched his arm, remembering how he'd reacted every other time when she'd tried to touch him since his attack. This time, however, he didn't pull away, but just closed his eyes as if it took a concentrated will not to jerk away. His little boy voice came from far away when he made his plea. "Scully, could you get these restraints off? I promise to be good this time. Honest." She pushed the call button. "I'll see what I can do, Mulder. You gave us all quite a scare. You know this new guy Boysen isn't quite used to you yet. He keeps trying to treat you like his other patients. We both know that's a mistake." Mulder tried a weak smile and noticed the tube running from his nose for the first time. He also realized that he had a lot more wiring now than when he'd last been conscious. Monitors surrounded him with all kinds of annoying blinking and beeping sounds. It was enough to make a guy nervous if he weren't used to it. "Scully, how long have I been out and why is it like the Arctic circle in here?" "Over 24 hours. Your fever spiked. It got up to 105. We finally ended up having to use a cooling blanket and dropped the air temp. Seems to have worked though. Your temperature's back to almost normal." "Then can I get a real blanket?" She smiled in sympathy. "In a little while. We just have to do some blood tests, and be sure the infection's coming under control, too. We don't want a relapse or anything." "I never understood how having a fever could freeze your ass." "I know, Mulder. Just hang in there. It'll get better." Boysen came into the room looking a lot more tired than he'd looked earlier. "Good to see you with us again, Mr. Mulder." "Looks like my next stop will be Dairy Queen, Doc. How soon can we lose the deep freeze around here?" Boysen smiled. "I'm also glad you can have a sense of humor about all this." "Humor? I was serious, Doc." "I'll have blood drawn for various tests and then we'll see." Scully asked, "What about the restraints, Dr. Boysen? Mulder's fever is down and he's lucid. He's promised to be a good little trooper." When Boysen looked hesitant, she continued. "Look, Doctor, I'll be here or AD Skinner will be. He's right down the hall. We'll watch our boy here and if he shows any sign of breaking his promise, I'll restrain him myself. Better yet, Skinner will put him in another strangle hold." Ignoring the look of confusion on the doctor's face, she turned her glare on her partner. "Isn't that right, Mulder?" Sheepishly Mulder grinned, "Sure, Scully." Recognizing his familiar I'll just say what she wants to hear and then do what I want tone, she spoke firmly. "Don't think I'm kidding, Mulder. You even think about removing any tube or line by yourself or try to get out of that bed before you're told and I'll not only restrain your wrists, I'll drug you into oblivion until this is over. Is that fully understood, young man?" "Yes, Ma'am." If his hands had been free, he would've saluted. Boysen chuckled at the interchange. Satisfied that Scully would control the recalcitrant agent, he relented. "Okay. The restraints are banished for now on the conditions that Agent Scully listed. All tubes and lines stay put for awhile." Mulder wanted to argue, but suddenly felt drained by all the activity of speaking. He lay back and let Scully take off the straps. She noticed his sudden quiet and asked, "You feeling worn out already, Mulder?" "Yeah, well it's not like I just slept for 24 hours or anything. I'm getting old, Scully." "And I hope you get a lot older, Mulder. Listen, to me, my friend. Your body needs rest, lots of it. It's just letting you know that. Listen to your body, Mulder. You can't expect to go days without eating or sleeping and still function very well." "I think we've had this conversation before, Scully." He lay back with his free right arm up over his eyes, shielding them from the light. "And we'll have it again until you finally hear it, Mulder." Dr. Boysen stood listening to the banter while he jotted down the readings on the monitors. While Scully talked, Mulder's pressure and pulse rate dropped slightly. For the first time since being admitted, Boysen saw Mulder drift into a natural sleep. "Well, Dr. Scully, it seems you missed your calling as a sleeping agent." Smiling in recognition of his weak attempt at humor, Scully just nodded and then asked. "What now, Dr. Boysen?" With a more serious expression, Boysen motioned her to the corridor. Once out of the room, Boysen spoke, "We'll get his body up and running on its own. We'll do all the blood and kidney tests. Then we'll get him to eat and have bowel function on his own. Because of the nature of his trauma, I'd say that could take a few more days." Scully shook her head, knowing what an outrageous patient Mulder could be as he recovered. The longer remained in the hospital, the more he balked at following directions. "He's not going to like that." "That I've already figured out. But frankly, two to three days is conservative. That's the timeline if everything goes okay physically. So far, Mr. Mulder hasn't been an easy or predictable case." "He never is." "So, I've gathered. His blood work is some of the most unusual I've ever seen, and one of his kidney's is compromised by an earlier serious problem. But, frankly, it's his mental health that worries me the most." Scully avoided his eyes and nodded, "Me, too." "What about other family?" "His father's dead. He and Mulder never got along anyway. His mother is recovering from a stroke, and his sister disappeared when he was 12. There isn't much of a family." "I see." Nodding to himself, Boysen finally did see. Listings of various broken bones and other injuries dating all the way back to early childhood, and then again at the early teens flashed in his mind. He visualized the scar tissue he'd seen during his exams and surgery. It should have occurred to him sooner. Abuse went a long way to explain why his partner, rather than an actual family member, was listed as next of kin and clarified a lot of Mulder's behaviors. It was a damn ugly picture appearing before him. No wonder the boy grew up to track down serial killers. He'd learned about monsters early in life. "Agent Scully, you and AD Skinner seem to be fairly close to him. When he's better physically, you've both got to convince him to seek professional help. I haven't been able to get psych in to evaluate because he's been too sick and is such a radical case, but he will have to be seen by someone before he leaves." "I understand, Dr. Boysen, but you have to understand, too. Agent Mulder is a trained psychologist who trusts almost no one. He knows every trick in the shrink's guidebook. I've seen him play this game before. He'll tell a joke and give an Oscar-winning performance to show just how well he's doing under the circumstances. He'll run circles around anyone you send to evaluate him." "Why would he want to do that?" "Avoidance, Dr. Boysen. It's one of his favorite coping mechanisms. He's been doing it for a very long time and he's very good at it." "I have to tell you, Dr. Scully, I'm out of my depth here. I can help Mr. Mulder get better as far as his physical injuries, but I'm not a psychiatrist. If what you say is true, and I have no reason to think it isn't based on what I've observed, what do you suggest I do?" Scully shook her head. "I'm not sure. I know he won't be allowed back to work without mandatory counseling and evaluation. AD Skinner will demand that, I'm sure. Maybe there'll be a miracle and Mulder will decide that he really does want to get help this time." "Maybe." Boysen's voice betrayed his doubt. Before Scully turned to go back in to sit with Mulder, Boysen asked, "And what about you, Dr. Scully?" "What about me?" "What happened to Mr. Mulder affects you, too?" Her blood chilled with the words. "What do you mean?" "Don't think for a minute that being raped only affects the victim. I've seen the aftermath enough to know that everyone who cares about that man is going to be deeply disturbed and changed by this. It'll get a lot worse before it gets better. You might consider talking to someone, too." Scully nodded thoughtfully. "I will, but first let's take one disaster at a time. Right now I've got to get Mulder up and back in the ring." With that she pushed open his door and prayed that she'd spend several hours just watching her best friend get a good night's sleep. 3:30 A.M. Wednesday Georgetown Medical Mulder awoke confused and in pain. His head and back both ached with burning sensations that throbbed in an even rhythm. His stomach fired with a new degree of dedication. He ignored the pain and tried to turn over on his right side, but only managed to send more agony up through his groin. He'd yanked too hard on the catheter and tangled it, himself, and the wires in the sheets. "Mulder, lie still before you hurt yourself." Scully came over to the edge of the bed. In the low light, Mulder saw the deep lines of exhaustion in her face. He felt guilty for being the cause of it. As she reached to rearrange the bedclothes and tube, Mulder's reflexes came alive. He grabbed her hand. "Don't, Scully." "Don't be embarrassed, Mulder. I'm a doctor." Mulder carefully resituated himself, being cautious even in the dim light not to expose himself. "Gee, Scully, give a guy a break. I know you're a doctor, but..." "But, what?" "Well, you know, Scully. It's hard enough to have any privacy under these circumstances. I mean, I just wanted to turn over for Christsakes and I've got tubes and wires everywhere, and I do mean everywhere. It's humiliating. I feel like a failed science project." Scully smiled sympathetically. "I know, Mulder. It's never easy at this stage. When I first came out of my coma, I hated feeling so dependent. But it will get better. Hell, your readings are already a major improvement over just 24 hours ago." Mulder relaxed while listening to her soothing tone. Sometimes Scully knew exactly what to say. He adored her when that happened. Of course, he'd never tell her that. "Are they good enough to qualify for a reduction of hook-ups?" "Maybe in the morning. Now, do you need something to help you get back to sleep?" "What about you, Scully?" "What about me?" "You've got to sleep, too." "Are you asking me to sleep with you, Mulder?" Her teasing, playful voice made him sputter, and Mulder was grateful for the faint lights. Then he noticed Scully blinking back tears as she laughed, "Gee, Scully, what's so funny?" "Nothing, Mulder. It's just that I was imagining what kind of readings those monitors would give if I were to crawl in there with you." Mulder grinned. "You're a wicked woman, Dana Scully. Why is it you suddenly start making propositions when I can't do a thing about them? That doesn't seem too fair." "Fair is a four-letter word, Mulder. Now, back to the question, do you need something to help you sleep?" "I do now." Even though she knew it was only for a brief moment, it was nice to have Mulder seem like himself. "I'll be back in just a minute. I'll tell the nurse to get your medication." As soon as she was out the door, Mulder pulled back the covers. He lifted the gown enough to see the damage. He felt sick to his stomach again. He lowered the blanket and leaned back. Tears stung his eyes, blinding him, trapping him in his own impotence. Mulder could kid around with Scully all he wanted, but it would never change the fact that he could never act on any of it. He loved Scully, but she was his partner and his friend. He could never feel anything sexual for her. Though he never understood what she got out of it, he knew that without her, he was lost. He could never confuse his feelings for her with sex and romance. Pulling the covers higher around his neck, Mulder tried to push the images away from his mind. Sex for him had always meant pain and submission, always. Even alone with his fantasies, he always felt needy and pathetic. Shame made for a durable mistress. He wished more than anything that he could get up to take a scalding shower, a shower to wash the filth away. Powerful images of strong, demanding hands both revolted and claimed him. He hated himself for craving what damaged him most. He felt lost in his own mind. Scully came back in with syringe. She studied the man huddled under the covers, his mood obviously darkened in her absence. "Mulder, what is it? Are you in more pain?" "No more than usual, Scully." The plaintive words and tone of his voice plucked at her heart. "Here, Mulder. I'm putting this in your line. It'll let you sleep some more. You'll feel better in the morning." Mulder barely whispered, "Scully?" "What, Mulder?" "Stay with me for awhile longer." "I'm right here, Mulder. Don't worry. You won't be alone." Scully stood there by the bed until the dark hazel eyes shut and Mulder's breathing evened. Only then did she dare reach over to soothe the strands of chestnut hair back up off his forehead, stroking his head in a steady rhythm. "I'll never leave you. Never. No matter how many times you try to shove me away, no matter how hard you push. You're really and truly stuck with me." *******8A.M. Wednesday Georgetown Medical "Come on, Mr. Mulder. It's time to wake up now." The insistent voice floated down from another universe. Mulder opened his eyes slowly and tried to swallow despite the huge wad of drug-induced cotton in his mouth. A thin gray-haired woman leaned in at him, checking for alertness. "Who are you?" "Nurse Dante. Dr. Boysen wants me to take your N/G tube out today to see if we can get you to eat on your own for awhile." "Terrific." "Don't worry. It won't be so bad. Come on. Let me position your bed a bit higher." Mulder heard the whine of the motor as the head of his bed raised. The slight dizziness passed quickly. Nurse Dante put on her gloves and placed an emesis bowl on Mulder's lap. "Now, when I tell you to, I want you to take a deep breath and hold it while I pull this out. It may be a little uncomfortable and you might feel nauseated. You might also get a nosebleed. Don't worry, that's normal." "I know. I've done this before. It always makes me puke." "Well, we haven't fed you this morning, so maybe it won't be so bad. Let's get started." Mulder held his breath as she pulled steadily to remove the tube through his nose. After the tubing slid free, the heaving began almost immediately. The pan now at his chin filled quickly with bile and blood. Nurse Dante's calm demeanor faded with alarm and she pressed the call button for assistance. She quickly got another tray and pressed compresses to Mulder's nose trying to stop the bleeding. Another nurse came in to help coordinate the effort. His vision swirled in a fog. "What the hell's going on here?" Scully voice filled the room. She stormed in and took control. "Get some ice for the back of his neck. Mulder, I'm putting something in the IV for the nausea. Don't worry. It's going to be okay." A few minutes later, his stomach felt a little sore, but wasn't trying to exit his body. The bleeding stopped and he was able to rest his head back against the pillow. They quickly changed his ruined hospital gown before Nurse Dante and her evil assistant left contritely, taking most of the evidence of their sins with them. Scully stood by the bed looking down at him. "Damn, Mulder. I leave you for a minute and look what happens. I only went to get a cup of coffee." Mulder's hoarse voice scratched the air. "Next time take me with you and I promise not to bleed." "Fat chance, Mulder. I think you bleed when you breathe." Her voice softened slightly. "God, Mulder. It was only an N/G tube." "You know those things always make me gag, Scully." "I know, Mulder. I'm sorry. I should've insisted on the anti-nausea drugs before Dante took out the tube. "I would've bled anyway. Don't worry about it. It's okay." "Don't be such a martyr, Mulder. Let's just make sure you eat something soon so we don't have to put one back in." "Don't even joke, Scully." "I'm not joking, Mulder. Boysen's ordered a special liquid diet for today and depending on how you handle that, we can move you up to semi-solids." With a sober tone in her voice. "He won't even think about releasing you until you can eat on your own and keep everything down for at least 24 hours. You know that." "I know, Scully. I've been through all this before." Trying to change the subject, Scully realized just how scraggly her friend looked. "Why don't I give you a shave, Mulder. That'll make you feel better. I know it'll cheer up me up no end." Mulder raised a weary hand to his chin and realized that the stubble was indeed thick. "I can shave myself, Scully." "Mulder, you can't even hold a spoon to feed yourself yet. I'm not giving you a razor." "Then get me an electric one. I don't normally use electric, but someone around here is bound to have one." Skinner's husky voice came from around the door and said, "Bound to have what?" Scully answered with a smile, "An electric razor. Agent Mulder needs a shave." "I hope it's his face we're talking about." "Very funny, sir." Mulder grimaced at the AD's weak joke. Scully turned to Skinner and said, "He's had a hard morning already. Be gentle while I go track down a nurse to see about the razor." Puzzled, Skinner watched her go before he turned his attention back to the pale agent reclining in the bed. Some of the discarded compresses from his bloody nose were still in a tray, and Skinner guessed what had happened. His stomach knotted, he forced his hand into his pocket to stop himself from reaching out a comforting touch. He tried on his office voice. "I take it they're going to finally make you start feeding yourself?" A weak nod was all Mulder could manage. "Well, it's about time." "Sir?" "Mulder, I need you back on your feet, not lying around here for weeks." Mulder realized what the AD was doing, trying to get him up and motivated, but all he wanted to do was just roll over and go back to sleep. Before Skinner could say much else, Mulder found himself drifting back into grey silence. Skinner let his own breathing slow as he watched his agent from the safety of the corner, the familiar comfort of distance. He barely heard Scully when she came back into the room carrying an electric shaver. "Is he asleep?" "Looks like it." "It must be the anti-nausea meds meeting up with the army of other drugs pumped into him. Several tend to cause drowsiness." Skinner looked at Scully and saw the tight lines of fatigue. "Agent Scully, you need to go home and rest. I can stay awhile." "You've been here as much as I have. Why don't you look like shit, too?" "Did you just say shit in front of the boss, Agent Scully?" The tease brought a slight blush." "Yeah, well sometimes I forget that." She studied the dark eyes for a minute as if considering some other question, but she waited too long to speak." "Go home, Scully. I'll take the watch for awhile." "Hesitating, but seriously considering the offer, Scully asked, "But what about the office? You've been here almost the entire time since this thing started." Skinner glanced over at her sleeping partner and shrugged. "What's the point of being the boss, if I can't change the schedule?" Something worrying and persistent nudged questions at the back of her exhausted mind, but she shut it down. She struggled to barely function. Analyzing curious behavior would have to wait until she could get her brain to play along without blinking out mid-thought. She handed the assistant director the shaver, and retrieved her things, before finally agreeing with a nod. Looking over at Mulder, she whispered, "I'll be back in a few hours, or sooner if you call." Skinner lightly touched Scully's arm, something he rarely did, and looked her into her eyes. "He's going to be okay." Scully looked away and bit her lip. "I know, sir, but it's still hard." "I know, Scully. I know." And he did. The end of Part 4/11 Consent 5/11 by Grey Wednesday 1P.M. Georgetown Medical When Scully walked back into the room, she found quite a scene. Skinner was pretending to read a report and a clean-shaven Mulder was scowling fiercely at a spoonful of green jello. His face twisted with the obvious loathing at the thought of having the disgusting stuff in his mouth. When he saw Scully, he put the offending food down and crossed his arms. "Well, it's about time you got here." "Nice to see you again, too, Mulder." Skinner cleared his throat and interrupted, "Agent Scully, would you please explain to Agent Mulder that eating isn't supposed to be such a torturous process." Scully smiled at the petulant tone of both men. "Listen, Mulder, you have to eat. You KNOW that." "But I don't have to eat green jello, Scully. I HATE green jello. Why does every hospital insist on serving something that looks like that stuff that ate a hole through your shoe?" Scully actually laughed. Skinner and Mulder both looked at her with puzzled expressions. "Well, I can tell you're certainly feeling better. Why don't you go on back to the office, sir. I think I can handle him for awhile." "Nobody needs to handle me, Scully. I'm perfectly capable of handling myself." Scully and Skinner both choked on that one-liner. Realizing his goof, Mulder blushed dramatically. "Damn, for government officials you two have dirty minds ." "Dirty work makes for dirty minds, Agent Mulder." Skinner got his things and shook his head. "He's all yours. By the way, I'm going to recommend a raise for you on the next evaluation, Scully. You deserve more than the government can possibly afford." After the AD left, Scully turned and said, "My god, Mulder, what the hell did you do anyway? I was only gone a few hours." Mulder pushed his tray away, his food not eaten. "Nothing, Scully. He's just being pissy." "And you're not?" Ignoring her comment, he continued. "I hate being told what to do all the time as if I'm some kind of child. I'm not a child, I'm not." "If you say so, Mulder." Recognizing just how childish he did sound, Mulder shifted in the bed trying to get some level of comfort before he spoke. "I'm sorry, Scully. I'm just frustrated. I hate having someone baby-sit me all the time, especially Skinner." "Why especially Skinner? He's really worried about you, Mulder. He's been here since the beginning." "I know that Scully, but he's the boss. At first having him here made me feel safe, but now it mostly just makes me uncomfortable. It freaks me out to have him here watching me. "I can't explain it. There's no rational explanation, so don't expect one." Scully took a deep breath before she spoke. "Okay, Mulder. I understand that you don't fully trust Skinner. But you have to know that he does care about you, if for no other reason than he feels responsible for you as one of his agents." Mulder rubbed his face as if trying to strip away a few layers of unnecessary skin. "It's more than that, Scully, and you know it." "I have to admit his dedication as a watchdog has surprised me." "He cares, but I don't want him to." "Now I'm confused, Mulder. Why wouldn't you want him to care about you? Why would that be so awful?" Mulder shrank down a bit in the bed and pulled the cover up. "Because I'd have to care back and I don't have the energy for that, Scully." Scully nodded, but still not fully understanding. "Mulder, when people care for you, you're not obligated to care back." "But I feel obligated, and right now I can only handle caring for one person." "It's only right that you care about making yourself well, Mulder. There's nothing wrong with that." Mulder shook his head. "You don't understand, Scully. That's just it. I don't care about myself. I only care about you." Scully blushed, but tried to control her voice. "I care about you, too, Mulder." "I know you do, Scully. And right now that's all I can handle. Anything else is just too much." I just have to try to get well so you can be okay." Scully shook her head, trying to take in his twisted thinking enough to unravel what he'd said. A major flag went up in Scully's head. Mulder had revealed himself and his biggest problem. He didn't think he was worth saving for himself, and until he did, he'd never get better. "Gee, Mulder, put a girl under pressure why don't you?" "What do you mean, Scully?" "I mean, what you're basically saying is that I'm the reason to get well, that wanting to get well for yourself isn't worth bothering with. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?" "I'm confused." "Damn straight about that. Confused is putting it mildly." "Would fucked up be better?" Scully nodded with a slight smile. "Thank god, I'm not your therapist, Mulder. I'd need more than the raise Skinner promised." Mulder grimaced at the mention of word therapist. "Scully, I'm not going to a shrink." "Sure you are, Mulder." Seeing the panic rising in his tight features, Scully hurriedly added, "But it's not going to be today or in the next few days. We've still got to get you up and out of the bed first." "I will not discuss what happened with a stranger." "Mulder, you said yourself that you're confused and fucked up. The fact that you recognize that is good. Now, you need to acknowledge that sometimes you can't always fix things by yourself." "Nobody can fix things for me." "True, but someone objective can listen and make suggestions. Mulder, you have to change some of your thinking. You can't go on living for me, Samantha, or anyone else. You need to value yourself and know that you're a good person who deserves to live with some happiness instead of pain and suffering." Mulder remained quiet, unable to talk anymore. He'd already said too much. From a distance he realized what she said was probably true for most people, but he also knew he wasn't most people. She hadn't understood what he was trying to say. No wonder in that. He wasn't completely sure himself. When he hadn't spoken in several minutes, Scully sighed and then asked, "Why don't we try to tackle eating something now?" "Well, if you'll wrestle it to the ground and hold it steady, I might be able to slurp up some of that congealed broth, but don't expect me to enjoy it." "Enjoy it? You? Wouldn't dream of it." She reached over and retrieved the spoon and the small bowl of soup. "Do you want me to feed you, or can you do it yourself?" Mulder took the spoon from her hand, their fingers barely touching. "I'll manage, Scully. It's only broth." "Well, it was only jello, Mulder, and it got the better of you." "Yeah, but it was green, Scully, and that gives it super powers." Scully looked at him with a what the hell are you talking about now stare as he continued. "What? You didn't know? It's sort of like that Kryptonite stuff. Every crime fighter knows that." With a shaky hand, Mulder took a small sip of the salty broth. Despite the fact that it was cold, he managed to keep it down. His stomach took a tiny heave, but stopped. After a minute he took another and then another. Feeling proud of himself, he smiled over at Scully who promptly said, "It's only soup, Mulder. Don't get cocky. We've still got to get the catheter out." "Killjoy." "Silly rabbit." "I just love this witty repartee, Scully. It makes me long for the good old days." "Then eat the jello." "Only if you'll eat some, too." "Damn, Mulder, you're such a big baby." "Yeah, but you like me just a little don't you?" "Don't push your luck, Mulder. There's a fork on that tray and I've been trained to use it. Now get busy and finish your lunch. Nap time is right around the corner and it's almost time for another set of meds." "Gee, I keep forgetting you're a doctor." "Lucky for you, I never forget." Mulder finished the broth, his tea, and the ever popular Ensure. His stomach ached from the pressure. Sheepishly, he said, "I can't handle the jello, Scully. I'm really full. Maybe at supper if it's a different color." Scully relented. "Okay, Mulder. I'll make a point of asking for cherry or strawberry. Now lie back and get some rest. Dr. Boysen will be here in a little while." Suddenly very tired, too sleepy to even keep his eyes open, Mulder did what he was told. He drifted off under the watchful and worried eye of his companion. Scully looked up and lightly touched a hand to her heart. Silently she prayed that God would find a way to reach Mulder and let him know that he was loved and worthy of it. Was that too big a miracle for an omnipotent being? She thought not. Wednesday 5:30 P.M. "Mulder, Dr. Boysen said you had to drink both of those. You haven't even touched either one." Scully tapped her foot impatiently while she watched her pale partner shove the tray back at her for the second time. "I just ate a whole tray full of stuff." "That was this afternoon for lunch. You have to have dinner and another serving before 9." Mulder held his arms across his stomach and groaned. "Tell Boysen there is no way I can do that. It's too much." Scully nodded in sympathy, but kept a firm tone. "I know you believe that, Mulder. But you have to remember that you haven't been eating for awhile. It probably feels like we're force feeding you, and in a way we are. You are seriously under-nourished. The IV's are not enough to get you healthy again. If you don't start eating the minimum required calories and supplements, Dr. Boysen has ordered another N/G tube." "No way." Stubbornly Mulder shook his head. "Then drink the Ensure. The other things on the tray are optional, but those aren't." There were a few more moments of strained silence. "Well?" Mulder picked up one of the cans in a mock toast and took a sip. "Okay?" "It's a start." Mulder took a deep breath and started drinking. When he'd finished one can, she took it out of his hand and gave him the other. About half way through, he found himself gagging and overwhelmed with nausea. Scully picked up on the body language, grabbed an emesis bowl, and had it ready. When he'd finished retching, Mulder sighed. "Please, don't tell me I have to drink anymore of that stuff right away. I'm really just too tired." Scully removed the bowl, handed Mulder a cloth for his mouth, and then gave him some water. "Look, I know you're tired and probably frustrated like hell. Just try to relax a little. Why don't I leave you alone awhile, Mulder? Dr. Boysen will have to decide what's best about the diet later. Lie back and get some more rest." "Where are you going?" "Well, unlike you, Mulder, I usually enjoy having an occasional meal." "Lucky you." She patted his arm. "I'm just going down to the cafeteria. Jenkins is outside the door. If you need anything, have him come get me." Mulder closed his eyes. "Don't worry, Scully. I can probably hang on for a little while. Enjoy." Hearing the door close behind her, Mulder imagined how good it would feel to walk out with her. He heard the door open. "Hey, Scully, that was a quick meal." "Agent Mulder?" The strange voice brought Mulder to full alert. "Who are you?" "I'm Dr. Greg Harris." A middle-aged man stood inside the doorway holding a hospital folder. His dark hair, cut short, framed a narrow face. Intense brown eyes studied him. He moved closer to the bed, but stopped a few feet away. "I'm here for the psychological consult requested by Dr. Boysen and the Bureau." Monitors beeped a little faster. "And the consult was requested because?" "It's standard policy in situations like yours." "Situations, like mine?" In a calm, even voice, Dr. Harris answered, "Situations when someone has been violently and/or sexually assaulted." "I've been beaten up before." "And have you been raped before?" Mulder closed his eyes tighter, wrapped his arms around himself, and remained silent. "Agent Mulder, this isn't like the other times when you've been injured in the line of duty. This time you might need a little help to deal with what happened." Breathing quickened, but his lungs didn't seem to work as well. "I don't want to be rude, but I don't need your help." "I was told you did." "You were told wrong. Just how did you get in here anyway? Isn't there a guard on the door?" Harris tilted his head as he considered the hostile man in the bed. This was going to be a very difficult case indeed. "I'm not dangerous, Agent Mulder." "I'm sorry you wasted your time coming here, but I'm asking you to leave." "It's natural to want to be defensive and in denial." "Listen, doctor, I have a degree in psychology. Don't tell me what it's natural to feel, okay." Mulder hissed out the words. "A degree, huh? Then you can't claim ignorance about needing help." "I'm not claiming anything. I can take care of myself and I don't need an evaluation of my psychological state, nor do I want any help from you or anyone else. Now, if you don't leave, I'll call for the guard to remove you." "Being some kind of tough guy isn't going to help you deal with this, Agent Mulder. As to throwing me out, I don't think so. People are worried about you. This is not an easy thing for anyone to deal with. I've read your medical records and you're a man who's already had more than his share of trauma. We all just need to know how you're going to manage." Mulder shut his eyes and tried to take a deep breath. "You don't know me or my situation. Just go away." "Excuse me, but who are you?" "He was just leaving." "No, I wasn't. You must be Agent Scully. I'm Dr. Greg Harris, the friendly neighborhood shrink. I came here at Dr. Boysen's request, but apparently your partner doesn't seem to think he needs any help in dealing with a vicious attack against his person." Mulder watched as his partner scrutinized the slim man blocking his view. She offered her hand. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Harris." "Scully, I asked him to go. I told you I wasn't going to talk to anyone about this." "I know what you told me, Mulder, but I think you should. You have to talk to someone." "Who the fuck do you think you are, Scully? Don't stand there telling me I have to talk to someone about this....this thing. I am not going to do that. Now, why don't the both of you get the hell out of here before I start puking again." Scully noticed the rise in the readings on the monitors behind Mulder. His flushed face warned her that nothing would be gained by fighting this battle tonight. He just wasn't ready. "Calm down, Mulder. We'll leave and let you settle yourself, but don't think that the subject is closed or that I won't be back." Scully turned to the silent, but observant Dr. Harris. "Why don't we go down the hall and get some coffee?" Harris looked over at Mulder who had folded himself into a tight ball and then eased himself to the far corner of the bed. Curled there he could have been any small boy hiding from the monsters under the bed, or in Mulder's case just outside the window. "Sure, Agent Scully. Coffee sounds good." "I'll meet you down there in just a minute." As soon as Harris was out the door, Scully stood by the bed. "Mulder, are you going to be okay for a few minutes?" A hoarse whisper answered. "Scully, don't do this to me." "Do what?" "Betray me." The words sliced her heart. "God, Mulder. I'm trying to help you, but you've got to help yourself." "You don't understand." "Help me understand." "I trust you, Scully. I can't talk to anyone else." "Are you saying that you'll tell me what happened?" "Eventually, but not right now." "Mulder, I'll listen if you want to tell me, but that's not enough." "Damn, Scully, when is enough enough?" "When you go to someone objective who specializes in this kind of trauma. I'm your friend and partner, Mulder. You're the same as family. Your pain is my pain. I'm not even in the same universe as objective when it comes to this kind of kickass situation." Mulder opened his eyes and stared into her anxious face. "Scully, I just need more time. It's too raw." "Okay, Mulder, but you have to promise me that when you're healed physically that you won't just pretend like you're all better with no problems. You have to promise me that you will get help and seriously try to deal with this." "I'll do what I can, Scully." "Promise me, Mulder." With some hesitation, Mulder finally answered quietly, "I promise." Scully reached over and uncrossed his arms. "Let me see those fingers, Mulder." Smiling weakly, Mulder responded, "Yes, Mom." End of Part 5/11