From: AwesomoFox@aol.com Date: Tue, 28 Sep 1999 16:35:00 EDT Subject: Gossamer Submission Source: direct Letters to the Lost By: The AwesomoFox a.k.a. A. Lalad Rating: PG-13-ish...(Violence, I spose...) Category: SA Pre-XF Posting: Anywhere, ESPECIALLY GOSSAMER and EMXC but tell me so I can come see! (keep my name attached) Summary: Scully finds letters written by a teenage Mulder to his sister. Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully and anyone else in this story that you find familiar are Chris Carter's. I am not trying to make any money off of them. So please! Don't sue me! I won't be able to afford that new heart for my goldfish, Catos! Anything in this story (plot line, other characters, phrases, whatever) are mine. If you wanna use em, just tell me!! Comments: This is the first story that I have ever taken this far into the plot, so if it isn't good, don't flame me! I'm only 14!! Special Thanks to: CG and Mags for beta-reading, My Awesomo bro, Kholly (you don't have to run out of the room screaming anymore when I mention Fanfic, Khol!!) To my mom, who told me that I had a gift for writing, and everyone else who has encouraged me...Nollie, Alex, CG, Lyn, etc. Basically the whole H-BAND. Love you guys. And to MY David-Thank you for listening when I needed friend. Feedback to: (only kind things and constructive critiquing to: muldersdoctor@cheerful.com Visit me on the web @: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Nebula/1324 Now, on with the show. <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> Safe in the Fox's Den By: The AwesomoFox a.k.a. A. Lalad ~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~ He spent his childhood hours in a den Of rushes, watching the gray rain Braille The surface of the river Concealed from the outside world, nestled within He was safe from parents, God, and eyes That looked upon him accusingly As though to say, "Even at your age, you could do better" His camouflage was scant, but it served And at evening, when fireflies burned holes into heaven He took the path homeward in the dark A small Noah, leaving his safe ark ~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~ 129 days Dear Samantha, I can't believe it's been 129 days. You haven't come home yet. Where are you? Mom and Dad miss you a lot, and so do I. Mom cries a lot, and dad is either yelling or not home. They both drink too much. I woke up in the hospital awhile after you'd gone. They wouldn't tell me much, except that you disappeared. Dad yells at me for losing you. I can't remember what he's talking about. I'm so sorry Sam! If you could just come home everyone would be happy again. I won't be mean to you again, I promise! And I'll take you anywhere and play anything and do anything you want! We can play with your dolls! I'll take you for ice cream! But please come home. I miss you. Mom is always locked away in her room, sobbing, hung over, or both. She doesn't make dinner anymore, or clean, or do anything she used to. She just cries and drinks. I make dinner and take care of the house now. Mom would love it so much if you came home! Maybe we'd go to Disney World and meet Mickey Mouse like you wanted! Dad hits me a lot. He is either at home drinking, or at a bar drinking. I thought I heard him say he got fired, but I won't ask him about it. I know he misses you a lot. He hates me. I know 'cause he tells me. He calls me a coward and a selfish little a-hole. That man that smokes alot is always here (The one you called Mr. Morley because those are what he smoked), and him and dad fight every time he comes. I don't like him. He always looks at me funny, and calls me, "Little Fox". I hate it. Sometimes they fight about you,= or something they call "The Project". It's weird. Dad never wants me around when he comes, but when he is here, Dad acts real nice to me. I think he doesn't want Mr. Morley to see him be mean to me. Mr.= Morley is always asking about mom too. I wish he wouldn't come here anymore. He makes the whole house smell like smoke and I have to gag so I won't choke to death. I miss you so much! I guess I really took you for granted when you were around and now you're not here... I got straight A's on my report card, but I got a Failing grade in Class Participation. I can't participate anymore. I forgot how. I am too miserable. Dad wasn't happy about the failing. He beat me really hard for that one. I am still sore. I did a good job of covering up the bruises though. No one at school noticed. But, then,= no one at school notices me anyways. When they do it's always bad things. They blame me for losing you too. I don't have any friends. Except Mrs. Thatcher. She is my English Teacher. She likes to talk, and a lot of times we stay in at recess and talk. And she's great and all, but I still miss you! I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, Please come home soon! We miss you! I LOVE YOU, Fox Scully sat on the couch in her living room with tears in her eyes. She had found the box of aged letters on her doorstep, labeled, "To: Special Agent Dana Scully, From: A Friend" She opened it to find over 100 letters, all labeled, Dear Samantha. Or at least, all she looked at so far. There was no doubt in her mind that these were the work of a very young version of her partner, and that she was reading them without his consent. And although she felt she was invading his privacy in a way, she also felt that who ever gave her this information had just cause in doing so. This was crucial to her understanding him, and she knew it. So in spite of her guilt, she read on. <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> (Martha's Vineyard) (Spring 1974) Fox liked to run. Ever since Samantha had disappeared, he found comfort in running. He pushed himself harder every time, ignoring his body's warning that he was out of air, and aching. He ran faster. Sometimes he would run for hours. Getting so lost in his thoughts that when he finally paid attention to his surroundings, he had no idea where he was. He would end up on boat docks, in alleys, in front of a toy store...the possibilities were endless. But Fox knew that part of running was finding your way home.= And if it took him all day and night, he didn't care. His father would catch up with him eventually. There was no escaping that. So if he could put it off, why not? Although Fox Mulder ran simply to run, in his mind he was running toward a goal. From the hatred in his soiled past and to a new life, and his sister.= To happier days and love. Acceptance. Too bad he didn't really have somewhere to run. Just places in his mind. Today was a wet day. Foggy and cool. Fox got up and dressed at 5:30 that morning, made breakfast for his mom brought it to her room with a note, and a packed lunch for him, as well as a backpack, some money, and water,= a book, and a towel to lay on. And paper. He never knew when he needed to talk to Sam. He left another note on the table for his mom, in case she didn't find the first one, and lunch and dinner were there too. Thank goodness his dad was at the bar. No one would beat him until he got home at least. Backpack on his back, clad in blue and gold basketball shorts and a hooded blue sweatshirt, Fox started out. It had been 134 days since Sam had been taken. He pulled up the hood around his ears and walked quickly to "his spot". He found it the first day he'd been home from the hospital. His dad had hit him pretty darn hard, and he ran out of the house. Farther and farther until he'd fallen into a hole in the ground, in the woods, behind their house. He had fallen into a cave. That was the first beating his dad had given him, and he thought he was gonna die. If he only knew what was coming. Fox found the cave easily today, he'd come there everyday since he found it.= It was marked with a huge white boulder that he'd hardly been able to roll.= No one else knew of the cave. Except Sam. He cleared the brush and other camouflage things from the hole, and then pulled open the "door" he'd built out of scrap wood. He lowered himself in,= and covered up the hole behind him. Mulder's cave was the best place he had been in his life. No one was here,= not even bugs (which was shocking considering it was a cave in the ground in the woods). When you came down from where the door and forest floor was,= it was just a large room. After Fox had found it, he'd brought everything he could think of that was handy for camping. A sleeping bag, food that wouldn't spoil, water, blankets. All his secret things, like his picture of Samantha that his father decided he was not worthy of, his journals, and his letters. Candles and flashlights...a radio. There were indentations in the walls where Fox could place his things, and large rock stumps to sit on opposite from the door. A small waterfall trickled down from who knows where and left by the same place. Not much rain got in either, because the only opening to the outside world was the door, and the waterfall (which didn't let much through anyways). The rest was like a rock shell. And there was even light in the cave, coming from mysterious places. It didn't branch like other caves-it was just a room. That was it. And that was all it needed to be. Sometimes Fox thought that this place was made just for him. It was perfect in every sense. Today, Fox stashed his pack and sweatshirt down near his sleeping bag, and left again. He set out to run and he would do just that. <><><><><> (Martha's Vineyard) (Spring 1974) (4 days later) Fox quickly gathered the dishes from dinner and put them in the sink. He helped his mother up the stairs and once she was situated, ran back downstairs to wash the plates, cups and everything else in the sink. He plugged the drain and turned on the hot water. He added the soap and grabbed the wash rag, scrubbing hard at the food residue on the plates his mother and he used. His dad wasn't home yet-which was definitely a good thing. As he washed the dishes, Fox began to lightly hum. It wasn't anything, just a song his music teacher had taught the class today. He washed all the pans, and plates, and cups, forks, spoons and knives, then placed them all in the drying rack. As soon as he was done with that, he began to dry. While Fox hummed and dried, his father was unlocking the front door, and the poor boy was oblivious to the fact. Unbeknownst to him, his father entered the kitchen and stood behind him for about 2 minutes. Fox picked up a large china plate-not the good china, but china nonetheless, and started dry it. "Stop humming boy." Bill Mulder said monotonously. But it was enough to scare Fox, who up until that moment, had no idea that his dad was present, and dropped the plate, shattering it into about 100 little pieces. Fox looked down at the broken plate in shock, and at his father with fear. "I'm...I'm so sorry sir, I'll clean it up, I'm sorry...please." He added when he saw his father's blood boiling in his eyes. "13 year old boy can't even wash the dishes without breaking them! I can't count on you for anything! You are useless, your sister could do it fine and she was 4 years younger than you! You'll learn if it's the death of you!" Fox wanted to scream and tell his dad that it very well might be the death of him if he wasn't careful. That he was sorry, and it wasn't his fault-any of it! The plate, his sister...or that's what he wanted to believe. He wanted to look his father in the eye and tell him that he was not yet 13-although there would be no way to know anyways for his dad. All holidays had been dropped at their house. Partially to punish Fox and partially because neither of his parents felt very social or festive these days. "Sir, please...I'm sorry, I'll clean it up...please..." his words ended in a muffled sob. "CRYING NOW!?!?! What are you? A woss? A gay boy? Boys don't cry! Stop it! You'll learn discipline! Boys don't cry!" With a quick reflex of his hand, he slapped his son across the face. When that didn't produce the effect he'd wanted, he punched him. Fox held his face in his hand. Blood came from his mouth and nose, but he knew a little blood wouldn't stop his dad's rage. "Still Crying?! Fine!!!" He threw the boy into the cabinets, then kicked his legs out from under him. Mulder knew that was the worst position to be in-on the floor at his dads mercy. He thought of calling for his mom, but she wouldn't hear them. Too far into a drunken-drugged slumber probably. Bill kicked Fox in the midsection, sending all of the air out of him. "You break a plate? I break a plate!" the enraged adult yelled hysterically, picking up a wet dish from the rack. With a swift motion of his arm, he whipped the porcelain disk at Fox's head, where it shattered, and the boy was knocked unconscious. <><><><><> 133 days Dear Samantha, Are you coming home yet? I hope so, we miss you so much! I'm sorry I let them take you. I would die if I knew you could come home safe. Come home safe soon, ok? Today I broke a plate in front of dad. He got mad at me. He really hurt me this time. I have a big bruise on my ribs where he kicked me, and my head was all bloody, because he broke a plate over my it. It hurt a lot, but I deserved it. I don't know how to patch it up. I almost passed out when dad washed the blood out, and I threw up afterwards. Dad says no one will know if there isn't any blood in my hair. I hope he's right, 'cause I'm really dizzy and can't eat anything, and I'm so sleepy. I'm happy you're not around to see dad and mom like this. You would be scared Sam. I spend a lot of time in my cave. I found it the first day dad started hitting me. Did I tell you about it? It's like a big room! I keep all my important things in there. Things dad won't let me have. Do you remember Larry Cambric? Well, before you left-when we were friends (we're not anymore...he says that if I could lose my sister that easy, what's to stop them from taking him. He said I didn't care about anyone but myself. So he and everybody else at school stopped being friends with me. I don't have any friends anymore.) he gave me a comic book, so that is in there...I have a sleeping bag, and food, pictures of you...everything is in there. I go there a lot to think, or when dad hits me and I'm able to leave the house by my will. I gotta go! Dad thinks I'm asleep, and if he found me awake... Don't EVER forget I love you, I'm sorry and please come back, Forgive me, Fox <><><><><> (Martha's Vineyard) (The Next Morning) (5 minutes before Homeroom, Fox's School) "Oh, look here comes Mulder. Did they find her yet, FOX?" a boy 2 times Fox's height yelled at him from a perch atop a desk. He was in Fox's class but bigger than every kid. And Fox was 2 years younger anyways-being moved up a grade. About 5 other boys his size surrounded him like guards. "No? Too bad. Maybe they should have taken you! No one likes you anyways! Hey! Come back here! I'm talking to you!" He got up and grabbed Fox's jacket collar and spun him around. "NEVER walk away from me!" the bigger boy yelled in his captive's ear. "Leave him alone, Duke!" another boys voice echoed from behind the two. "Stay out of this, Nick. This is between me and Fox. So Fox, tell me, how exactly did you give her to them? Did you at least ACT as if you would try and stop them? Was it a murderer, Fox? Are YOU the murderer Fox?" "Duke! I said STOP!" Peter yelled again, staying the same distance away from the large boy as before. "Take care of him." Duke said quietly to his "guards", who went immediately and picked Peter up, carrying him off. Fox was greatful that ANYONE would try to stand up for him, but wished that it was someone with power and muscles, instead of glasses and a pocket protector.= "Lets go in the bathroom, shall we?" Duke grabbed the back of Fox's neck and squeezed. "Please not today, Duke." Fox pleaded. His head still throbbed and he wasn't able to keep anything down since yesterday's breakfast, which had already digested by the time he got mashed by the plate and puked his guts last night. "Oh, so the All-Silent-One graces us with a plea! In the bathroom!" The boys room was empty when they entered. Duke pushed Fox up against the sink. "You are one sorry son of a gun, Fox Mulder. I should kill you for what you did to your little sister. She was so sweet and innocent, and you... well look at you. You don't deserve the air you breathe." He pulled Mulder, who did not fight back, and threw him into the side wall of the stalls. Fox's head connected with the plastic, and he felt dizzy. "Wait, Duke." "Oh, wimping out early are we? How do you think SHE felt?" He pulled him back and hit him against the wall again. "D-duke...Please...I..." Fox stuttered for words that spun in his head. The spots he saw were not a good sign. But Duke didn't give up. Duke grabbed Fox again, and pushed him one last time against the stall doors. Mulder's head connected with the plastic again, hitting the wall with a sickening crack, where he'd already been plastered with a plate, and he moaned, falling unconscious. Blood was all over the wall. and seeped down Fox's shoulders. Duke gasped, seeing what he'd done, and ran out of the bathroom. <><><><><> (45 minutes later) Mrs. Mural was just beginning the new math lesson when the door to the room creaked open, and Anthony Laudidio ran in. "Mrs. Mural, Mrs. Mural, I need help, Fox is hurt!" "Fox is at school?" "Yeah, he's in the bathroom hurt real bad!" "Stay here." she said to the class as if they would really get up and leave. "I just went to wash the paint off my hands and he was there, in the corner." Deanna Mural was shocked and horrified at what she saw. The 13 year old boy was laying in the corner blood spattered the wall and his hair and shoulders, as well as leaked on the floor. She had never seen so much blood before. She thought for sure he was dead. She knelt down next to him. "Fox?" she said gently touching his arm, as if she was afraid he might break even more than he was. "Fox, it's Mrs. Mural, can you hear me, hon?" She turned to Anthony. "Run and get the principal." "Mrs. Thatcher?" Fox weakly moaned. "And Mrs. Thatcher! And anyone else you can find!" she yelled after him. "Fox, it's Mrs. Mural, do you know where you are?" He whimpered, and she shushed him. "Fox, we're gonna get some help for you really soon, ok?" At that point Mr. Dalal-the principle, Mrs. Thatcher, and Miss Lorded came running in the bathroom, followed by Anthony. "Oh, my Lord!" Mr. Dalal gasped. Mrs. Thatcher, a short, petite, woman with shoulder-length red hair rushed to Fox and stroked his forehead. "Oh, honey, it's ok, you'll be fine." "Mrs. Thatcher!" Fox said, recognizing the voice and attempting to scramble up, so she wouldn't see him in the state he was in. He got dizzy and sunk back down. "Shh. Relax, Fox, I'm here. I'm here, help is on the way. Can you tell us what happened?" she signaled to Peggy Lorded to go call the medical emergency service. He needed a hospital now. "Da.." Fox started to say when he stopped. He couldn't tell on his dad, he would get himself into more trouble. "Slipped." "Fox, you didn't slip, who did this to you?" "Can't tell, he'll hurt me." "Fox, who? You need to tell us." "Head hurts. Wannasleeeep." "Fox, talk to us, hon, we need your help. Stay awake ok?" "Who was it son?" Mr. Dalal asked from his squatting position behind Thatcher. He groaned. "Duke. Bu'It wasss my fault. I'm ssssssorry Mrs. Thatcher." His eyes opened wide. "I need to get to class!" he said suddenly, as if coming out of a dream. "No, sit still Fox, we're gonna help you. You had a little accident. Just stay still." Mrs. Mural said. Sirens could be heard in the far distance. <><><><><> (same time, Mrs. Murals Classroom) "What do you think happened to Mulder?" Anna Smith asked loudly as she cracked the gum she wasn't supposed to be chewing. "Who knows." Someone said. "Got what he deserved." David Spear replied smirking. "You are a terrible person, David Spear!" Margaret Sietsema yelled from her perch upon her desk. "Look at what he's done in the past year and you tell me who is terrible!" "David? Did it ever occur to you that maybe he had no control over that? Did you ever think that maybe something happened to him too? He lives with it every day? Isn't that enough?" "No." "You know his dad beats him." A voice stated matter of factly from the front of the room. Laura Morgan turned in her seat. "How d'you know?" one boy asked her. "I live down the block, and I've seen him do it." "Liar." "I swear on my life that he does. Real bad too." "How bad?" "Remember when he came to school with the black and blue eye?" "His dad?" "Yup. And the broken finger?" "Dad?" "Uh-huh." "Well, he deserves it." David spoke up again. "Hey, Duke, you haven't said a word since you came in this morning? What's wrong? You look sick." Duke sat, pale as a ghost, trembling in his seat. "I didn't do it! I swear! I didn't!" he screamed, getting up. "Relax man." David said. "Whatever happened to Fox is his fault." Duke was very silent. <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 138 Days Dear Samantha, I woke up in the hospital yesterday afternoon. Dad was there. Remember when I told you he hit me over the head with the plate? Well, he really hurt me-but I deserved it, so that's ok.. Then the next day, Duke Rig beat me up in the boys room at school. He hit my head really hard against the wall, where dad hit me. And I passed out I think. Mrs. Thatcher was there when I woke up, and Mr. Dalal, and Mrs. Mural.well, anyways, some doctors came and took me to the hospital and I passed out again on the way there. I woke up yesterday. The doctor said I have a severe concussion. I don't know what that means, but I'm always dizzy, or throwing up. I sleep a lot too. I wish you were here. There is nothing to do here. The nurses don't talk, and the doctors are never around. Dad is here sometimes, but he usually is reading or sleeping. I miss you. Come home soon! (I'll let you win at stratego!) I LOVE YOU and MISS YOU See you soon! Fox P.S. Duke got expelled two days after the "incident". <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 172 Days Dear Samantha, I'm in my secret spot now. It's cold outside, and in here, it's freezing, even though it's almost summer. I stayed out here last night too. Dad said that he didn't want to see me, and kicked me out of the house, saying that I was ugly and stupid and I didn't deserve to live in the house like a civilized human being. He threw my coat, a loaf of bread and $1 out the window at me. But I had my keys in my jacket, so I've been sneaking into the house to get food and clothes, and to take quick showers. I think he's ticked off because Mr. Morley was here. He's here so much now, I wish he would just LEAVE! Dad is too drunk to notice the missing food, so I guess, in that respect, I'm lucky. He hasn't hit me much since the falling out with Duke. I think he's afraid someone might find out that he hurts me. I wish Dad still loved me, even though I know he's right when he says I am a mistake. You were always his favorite, Samantha...how did YOU do it? Mrs. Thatcher keeps getting really bad nosebleeds. She says it doesn't hurt, but never in my life have I bled and not felt pain. I hope she'll be ok. She's my one in 5 billion. No one else on this earth cares about me more--except you. But, if you were on this earth, why haven't they found you yet? It's been to long! Are you somewhere other than earth? Or are you just hiding? I wish you could tell me. We would run away together. I know you hate me, and Dad hates me, and I'm sure that if mom wasn't so out of it all the time she would hate me too, but even so...you should be home by now! What's taking so long? I heard a song on my radio that made me think of you. It's by Bread. Remember them? The chorus goes like this... And I would give anything I own I'd give up my life, my heart, my home And I would give everything I own Just to have you Back again. It was a pretty song. You would like it. I'll let you hear it when you get back. COME BACK! PLEASE! I LOVE YOU! Love, Fox <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> (Present Day) Scully wiped the tears from her eyes and face and unwrapped herself from her blanket. She got up and cleared her throat and put a pot of water on for coffee. She then sat down on the floor of her living room and pulled the box up next to her. As far as she had seen, the letters she'd read were read in order. She could find none to fill the voids so she continued assuming that. However, she wanted to make sure that the rest of the letters were read in order. Partially to avoid confusion, and partially because her scientific mind was telling her she should do it. The nagging in her mind was still there...she WAS invading his privacy. It was Friday night though, so unless--(and it WAS a possibility considering the subject of thought)unless Mulder had some crisis or got his hands on some other case, she would have most of the weekend to herself. But what if he came over, unexpected? How would she hide the letters? And if he found them...how would she explain it? It was an emotionally dangerous situation, one wrong move and it would blow. Not good. But Scully could see no way around it. Right now, her focus was organizing the letters in chronological order. And praying that nothing would happen to hurt Mulder. <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> (Mid Summer 1974) (Martha's Vineyard) (9:34) *boomboomboomboom* Footsteps echoed harshly on pavement not pausing when a *SPLASH* came about nor when pleas followed. *boomboomboomboomSPLASH* multiplied 5 times were right behind, and the boy in pursuit was thanking God that he knew he was a better runner than the meat head hunters chasing him. "Come---back---FOX!" "Lemme alone Nick!" Fox yelled behind him, not pausing to turn around. They were getting closer. Fox was going to loose. Nick Kalop had been after Fox ever since Duke Rig had been kicked out of school. Nick was part of Duke's bodyguard service, and he and the rest of the goons had been pretty darn ticked at Fox for getting Duke expelled. It was one of the very few things that Fox knew WASN'T his fault, and he wished they would just all get winded and stop. But they kept up the pursuit, chasing him through the woods into the darkly lit alleyways of downtown Martha's Vineyard. It was the slummy part, so no one was in the offices that lined the streets and alleys. No cars passed, no people walked. No one would hear him. He was dead meat. He needed to get somewhere where he had the opportunity to hide, and he needed to get there soon. Fox rounded the corner of one of the few old abandoned buildings, Nick and his gang coming up closely. But not close enough to catch Fox before he dodged into the unopened door of the warehouse. Looking around for the quickest route of escape, Fox dodged up one of two stair cases. He could hear Nick and company panting outside the door. It would only be seconds until-too late. They were already inside. Frantic, Fox looked around for a hiding spot, but could find nothing. Except some boxes and a heavy looking trunk. Not the trunk...Fox wasn't dumb enough to get trapped in that. Instead, he ran toward a large box and-no! That was too obvious! They would go straight to the boxes. He had a better idea... <><><><><> "Oh, FOX...come out come out. We don't want to talk, just HURT you. You can try to run, but we know where you live. Come out Fox. You'll pay for gettin' Duke kicked outta school. I promised him. So just come on, let's make this quick, then we can get on with our lives, huh?" Nick and his goons attacked the boxes, kicking and whacking them around. Suddenly, Nick whipped around, just in time to catch his prey attempting to sneak down the stairs. He had been hiding behind them in plain sight the whole time! That little... "Get him!" Ray and Bart quickly grabbed the struggling boy, who was almost in tears by this time. "Nick, I'm sorry, please!" "Fox...Fox...Fox" Right hook to the stomach. The boy sagged in Bart and Ray's arms. "I know you're sorry, but, we can't have you squealin' on us you know? We're just trying to make sure it won't happen again. Ok?" "Yeah! I promise, I don't ever remember saying anything about Duke!" "Ok, ok, we just want a little...insurance." The delinquents surrounded him. This couldn't be good. And it wasn't. "This hurts us more than it hurts you." "No, Nick, Ple-" The small mob converged upon the even smaller boy, despite his pathetic pleas. In 5 minutes it was over, although it seemed like more to Fox and less to Nick, who eyed the trunk conspicuously. The 2 guys holding Mulder down picked him up and he was able to wipe the blood off of his face where it had run from his mouth to the floor. One more guy opened the trunk and Fox found himself suspended above it. "Oh, God, please! Nick, I'll do ANYTHING! Please! I'll die! Please Nick!" Fox felt tears joining the blood on his face. "It's just for a little while, you'll like it." "NOOOO! No! HELLLLLPPPPP!!! HELP ME SOMEONE! HELP!" "Shut UP!!" One of the boys yelled, poking Fox real hard under the ribs. "NICK! Please! I'll die in there! It's gonna get really hot tomorrow! I'll be dead by noon! Please!!" Nick looked at his captive, considering what he had said, then to the trunk. "Put him down, guys." Fox breathed a sigh of relief. "You owe me one, Mulder." Saying nothing, all he could do was nod. "Now get out of my sight before I change my mind." Mulder made no protest and took off fast as he could down the stairs and out the door. "But, Nick! We were gonna teach him a lesson! We were gonna show him that he would pay for squealing on Duke! Whudja change your mind for?" "We beat him up didn't we? We don't wanna end up like Duke..." he looked around. "Let's go." <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> (Present Day) (Dana Scully's Home) (8:53 p.m.) The telephone rang harshly, startling Scully out of her depressed reverie. Shaking the sleep out of her eyes, she lightly grabbed the portable and thumbed the "TALK" button. "Hello?" "Hey baby, it's Mom." "Hi, Mom." she sighed. She never knew how good it felt to have a parent that cared about her. She heard from her mother almost every week. She wondered when was the last time Mulder had heard from his mom. Her mother visited both of them in the hospital. Mulder's mom had never been to his bedside in all the years she'd know him. "What's wrong?" That was her mom. Always knew when something was up. She wanted so bad to tell someone all the things that she'd read, but was that fair to Mulder? It wasn't even right that she was reading these. They were written to his sister, not to Scully. She thought. Her mother was Mulder's mother too (more so than his own). She knew that he would want her mom to know. "Mom, can we talk?" "Of course, honey!" "It's about Mulder." "Why don't you come over?" "It's late, are you sure?" "Of course." Scully smiled when she heard her mom's best military voice. Better not argue with that. "Alright. I'll be there soon." "I'll be waiting." "Love you." "I love you too." "Bye." Hanging up she said a silent prayer to God. Not to ask but to thank for all she had in her life; as a child and as an adult, that some didn't have. And she also thanked God for keeping Mulder...alive all these years. Especially as a child. And for helping him to be the sensitive, caring, beautiful man that he was. <><><><><> Scully looked sadly down at the box she was carrying and hoped that if by some means Mulder found out about this show and tell session with her mother, that he wouldn't be mad. She walked up the driveway and up to the door, ready to ring the bell when the door swung open. Her mom looked down at the box Dana was carrying and then into her daughter's eyes. Saying nothing, she stepped aside and let Dana pass her and walk into the house. Dana set the box down on the kitchen counter, then walked over and hugged her mom, long and hard. The silence passed between them for eternity, then Maggie spoke. "Your tea is getting cold..." "Mom!" Dana laughed. "Just what I have a taste for." <><><><><> Maggie Scully looked up from the paper in her hands and stared at Dana, speechless. "I had no idea...I thought...How could anyone do such horrible things to such a small child? Why did no one notice?" The waiver in her voice was not hidden. "I know Mom." The two women cuddled closer together. "I can hardly bear to read another one." The older Scully confessed. But she picked up another from the box (Dana had stacked them neatly in order of date) and the 2 started reading. <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> (September 1, 1974) (Fox's High School) (1st day of School) Fox looked apprehensively at the enormous building that lay ahead of him. His new school. His High School. He shifted his weight of his backpack on his shoulders and started walking up to the swarmed steps, hoping no one would notice him. He knew everyone picked on the Freshmen, and if life was like that for him already, then this should be extra harsh. Fox just wanted to get to his homeroom. If he could find it. Entering the building, Fox headed up the right wing stairs, trying to blend in; looking more confident than he was, giving the impression he had attended the school the previous year and he was older than he looked. Mainly, Fox made sure that he didn't bump into anyone too hard, and looked out for big kids. Walking up and down the second floor, looking casually down at his schedule, Fox felt hopeless. He would probably end up late for class, which would bring in attention and disfavorment from his brand new teacher. Great first impression he would make. Would he ever find room 1121? He wondered how many kids he would know in his Homeroom. With his luck, all of them. What he wanted was a clean slate, and to rid himself from his old, chalk-brained classmates. If only he could find the room... <><><><><> Fox reached out for the doorknob and took a deep breath as he opened the door. Half of the chairs were filled with people. Most looked scared, or like they were fakely trying to fit in with the cool kids. Making a new name for themselves. Fox wished he could do that. But too many people knew him as a freak. He could try, but he would never be "normal". At least in the eyes of his peers . He wondered if any rumors had started about him yet... Much to his surprise, looking around the room, Fox was pleased to note that he knew only 1 of the 15 there. And he couldn't even remember the boy's name. But he was only halfway out of the woods now. Duke and his clan...including Nick could come traipsing in that door right now. And the teacher wasn't going to get there until the 2nd bell at least. He or She were probably our in the hall directing lost students. Fox took a seat farthest from the door and placed his black nylon pack by his feet. Thinking twice, he grabbed his book bag again and pulled out a new notebook. A green one. He opened it to the first page and pulled out a new pen. He replaced his bag to the floor and uncapped the pen, starting to write. _279_ days Dear Samantha, Remember when you had to get that shot from the doctor and you told me before you went that you had a funny feeling in your stomach? I have that feeling now. First day of High School. High School Sam!! What am I doing here?! I'm not ready for this! The kids here are like, a million feet/pounds bigger than me, and I don't feel like taking another 4 years of beatings. I already get enough at home. But at least at home, I know I deserve them. Dad got so mad at me when I mentioned school supplies. He started screaming, "Where are the ones from last year? Can't you save us money!? You're ALWAYS mooching money off of me! You're lucky that I pay for your food! Your SHELTER! YOUR EXISTENCE! You ungrateful Sonofa[gun]!" Then, like always, He hit me. I was lucky this time. All I got were a black eye, some belt marks on my shoulders, and a bloody lip. Oh, he kicked me a few times in the stomach, too. He says I'm a lucky little [expletive] that he didn't get me harder. I think he was too tired and drunk. Anyways, I didn't get any money for school stuff, so I had to take my savings from it's hiding place in my cave, and buy everything. I was saving for a big book of poetry by Robert Frost. Guess it'll take me another year. I haven't had anything new for awhile. I don't deserve it. It would be nice though, to get a new shirt, or pair of jeans. Oh, well. I didn't get very nice things. The cheapest I could find actually... And the damaged stuff that the cashier gave me for a discount by not ringing it up... Thank goodness I had two weeks to get rid of the eye and lip before school started. I gotta go, the teacher just got here. Wish me luck...and survival. Love, Fox <><><><><> The teacher was a middle aged man, in his early forties, with graying sideburns and big blue eyes. His reassuring smile showed perfect pearls of teeth, and Fox was so stunned, he wondered if they were real. The nervous chatter in the room quieted down quickly, and Teacher looked impressed. "Welcome to your first day of High School! My name is Mr. Gibson, and I'll be your homeroom teacher for the rest of the school year. Aside from Homeroom, I teach Advanced English, and the Psychology elective for Freshmen." Fox thought happily. This guy seemed nice... "I have a beautiful wife, and a son, Will, and Daughter, Sarah. We also have a dog, Zane. I've lived in the Vineyard all my life." He looked around. "Well, I've told you about myself, now, I'd like to go around the room and learn the same things about you. Name, hobbies, what you want your classmates to call you, something interesting about yourself, your family...Everything. Starting with you." He pointed to a girl in the front row. "Since it's the first week, Homeroom is an hour long, opposed to 10 minutes. So we've got time." To 99% of the kids sitting in 1121, the next 20 minutes went by extraordinarily slow. 1% (Fox) felt the time fly by, and prayed that something would happen where he wouldn't have to tell about himself. He wanted to remain invisible, and he hadn't really been given more than a superficial glance since homeroom began. He didn't want that to change. Besides, what would he say? "And my goldfish name is Lulu." The chipper girl next to him finished. Great, his turn. Mr. Gibson looked to Fox. "My name is Fox Mulder. I like to...run." was all he could come up with. "Do you compete?" Gibson asked, sensing he wouldn't get more without a nudge. "No." "How about your family?" Fox bowed his head. "I have a mom, and a dad." "No siblings?" "A sister." He said in a whisper. Fox didn't want to talk about Sam. People would remember things from the news and papers. He quickly started talking. "I read alot of books, too. And, you can call me Mulder." "Thank you Mulder." Mr. Gibson said, trying to hide the baffled look on his face. "Well, right now is your chance to ask any questions you might have about High School." A million hands went up. Fox thought as he looked out the window and began to daydream. <><><><><> Fox's birthday came and went without so much as a warm smile from his mother or a somewhat happy look from his father. The only one that smiled at him was Sam, from her photo frame in the cave. How he longed for cake and candles, or even the happy birthday song hummed to him. Presents would be a dream, but dreaming was something Fox did not do these days. It was all nightmares for him. It wasn't until he got to his locker, Monday morning that his birthday was noticed. Upon opening it he found a small bag. He pulled it out and opened it slowly in his locker, blocking it with his body. Inside was a card, a rectangle wrapped in brightly colored paper and a cupcake with one perfect blue birthday candle on top. Fox's favorite. Yellow cake with Chocolate frosting. He was stunned. Who could have done such a nice thing for him? He put the back on the floor of his locker and opened the card. "To a Special Young Man on his Birthday" read the front. Inside there was a picture of Fox with Mrs. Thatcher on the last day of school. He looked at it and smiled, then read the rest of the card. "Fox, Happy 14th Birthday!! Hope this will make your day a little sweeter! I'm thinking of you all the time! We miss you here at this little school. How do you like High School? I hope to see you soon and enjoy your special day Love Always, Mrs. Thatcher." A smile spread across Fox' face but it quickly diminished when he thought of how much he missed Mrs. Thatcher. He put the card back in the envelope and put that back in the bag. He would save the cupcake and the present for later. He wouldn't get to indulge himself on the suspense of a birthday ANYTHING for a long time. <><><><><> The wait almost killed him, but finally Fox allowed himself to open the present from Mrs. Thatcher when he got home. Only when he was safely nestled in his cave did he carefully tear the wrapping paper off. He tried to keep it nice; it was a pretty pattern and Sam might like it, when (and if) she came back. The child inside Mulder screamed at him to 'open it FASTER!!' while the rest of him wanted to savor the moment, knowing it wasn't everyday that he got to open a gift. Finally the paper came off and Fox was delighted to find a copy of the Robert Frost book he'd been wanting so badly. So he built a small fire by the hole by the door and curled up in his sleeping bag with his birthday cupcake(he saved the candle, never lighting it, wanting to keep it perfect forever). And he read his Robert Frost book. And all his worries were forgotten. <><><><><> (8 days later) Mulder hated gym class. The only thing he had going for him was speed. He was the 2nd fastest runner in the school, and the most enduring. The track coach had seen him run one evening, a week ago, after school. The track was open to students between 5:00 am and midnight. Mulder had decided to try out the rubberized track for the heck of it... (more really to stay away from the house and his father, but only he knew that). Coach Zak watched him run for an hour and 15 minutes before he stopped him and asked him to join cross country. His words had been encouraging and kind, and Fox knew the coach really wanted him on the team, but team things just weren't for him. He told the coach he had other obligations and went home. That was the end of that...so far as Fox knew and hoped. But besides speed, Fox had nothing. He was tall and wiry. Underweight for his age, and because of it, always being teased. Nothing new, but nothing enjoyable either. But today was the first day of swimming. That meant no shirt in front of everybody for 45 minutes. And last night Fox' Dad had come home with an itch in his hand and his belt on fire. Fox back seemed to be the whipping board solution for that problem. So what was he to do about the welts? Usually he was able to cover up the scars, bruises and welts by turning his body and getting his shirt on fast. No one said anything if they noticed. But today... If he went to the nurse, playing sick, they'd most certainly call home, and then to his Dad's work, to tell the guardian that the child had been in the office. Without a written consent (and Fox didn't have one) he couldn't walk home by himself, so his dad would have to come get him. And then he would really have bruises. He would just have to wing it. He walked out to the pool with his towel around his shoulders. It didn't last long. "Mulder!! Throw your towel over there and get over here!" Coach Tassel yelled similar orders to every other kid who came out the locker room door. He was the High School version of a drill sergeant, yelling orders and embarrassing you in front of the whole class if you got arrogant. He wasn't exactly young and the white hairs on his chest showed it. As well as the dorky way his swim shorts were pulled up above his belly button. Cover blown, all he could do was walk quickly to the metal bleachers where the other boys sat and take a seat on top. After a peptalk about goals, objectives, and everything else about swimming, the boys were ordered into two groups. "Group 'I-know-I-can't-swim-and-I'm-not-big-headed-enough-to-fake-it'" and "Group 'If-I-am-lying-then-Coach-will-make-me-drop-and-do-50'" Fox was in the 50 group. He hoped there would be less one-on-one time in this group and he knew he was a good swimmer anyways. They separated to two side of the pool and began. The "50 group" was quickly reduced from 31 to about 17. There were quite a few guys doing pushups. Fox's team was unfortunately coached by Tassel, while the "can't swim" kids were taught by Tassel's nice assistant. "Hey YOU!! YOU!!" Fox and the other boys in the pool turned around to see who the coach wanted. Standing above the boys, who were in the pool, Tassel (who was still on deck) could see everything the teens were doing. "You! What's your name?...Mulder!" He swallowed. "Yes sir?" "What happened to your back boy? The pit of Mulder's stomach dropped 20 feet to the bottom of the pool. All the other boys strained to see what their coach was talking about. "I...uh..." "Well?" Mulder looked down at the water he was treading and shrugged. "My office. NOW." The other boys swam to each other and began talking. Fox wanted to die. What was he going to say? He squeezed the water out of his shorts best he could, then grabbed a towel and followed Coach into his office. Coach was already there when he got there. Feet propped up on his desk, sizing Fox up like a piece of meat. Mulder could swear had never been colder in his life. Sopping wet with big industrial fans blowing on him from atop file cabinets and shelves in Tassel's office. He couldn't help shivering. His teacher just looked amused. Nothing was said for awhile, and Fox was beginning to wonder if this was only a staring contest (the coach at Fox, who looked at his feet) when finally the man spoke. "Can you explain those welt marks on your back, boy?" "No sir, I can't." "Can't or Won't?" "Can't sir." "Can you tell me anything?" Fox looked at his feet and shook his head. "Is another student beating on you, son? Duke Rig?" "No sir. It's not Duke. He won't come near me sir." "Look at me, Son, not your feet. Is it someone else?" "No." "Turn around." Fox reluctantly did so, and lowered the towel off of his shoulders. Silence. "Alright. Get back out there. You're shaking like a leaf and your lips are turning blue." "Yes sir." <><><><><> Friday, October 25th 12:07 p.m. Dave Gibson barely dodged a chunk of flying macaroni and shot an angry "teacher-is-mad glance" in the direction of the shooter. He glanced around the lunchroom, and quickly found who he'd been looking for. It was early in the lunch-hour and most kids were in line getting their meals. He walked over to the table where Fox was sitting, and noted sadly that he was the only one there. The boy was oblivious to his presence though as he scribbled quickly in a green notebook Dave had seen many times. As Dave moved closer, Fox noticed him and jumped, slamming the notebook closed. "Hello, Mr. Gibson." he murmured quietly. Gibson noticed that Fox didn't have a lunch, wasn't carrying one, and didn't look like he was going to buy one. "Fox, why don't you come with me?" "Why?" "I want to talk. Why don't you go and buy yourself a lunch?" "I'm not hungry, sir." "Come on now. Of course you are! How do you expect to get through the day without lunch? If you need money I could borrow you som-" "It's not money. I don't feel very hungry right now, that's all. Thank you for offering." Fox said so quietly that his teacher had to strain to hear him above the lunchroom clatter and chaos. Fox kept his eyes glued to the floor. Seeing no route of escape, Mulder packed up his things. "Ok?" "Mmmhmm." Was the quiet response. They took the closest door out of the cafeteria so Fox would be able to avoid all the questioning eyes in the room. Luckily, no one seemed to notice. They went to a small unused office on the North wing. Switching on the light Mr. Gibson let Fox choose his seat. There were two chairs in the room, and a desk. One chair was a small metal (uncomfortable looking)stool with no back. The other was big and soft orange fabric, heavily padded, and warm looking. Fox immediately went to the stool. "Well. I thought that you would make the good decision!" Dave said unbelievably. "That one was for you." he indicated the larger chair. Fox looked at Gibson warily, trying to find the hidden agenda. After a moment he decided maybe there was none and let it go. Mr. Gibson walked over to the closet and pulled out another, identical soft chair so they each had one. "You were trying to get me to choose the stool." Fox murmured looking at his feet. "Why?" He looked up into his teachers eyes. "I wanted to see what kind of man I'm dealing with. Most of your classmates would have chosen the orange chair without a second thought. But you didn't. It shows me what kind of respect you have for your elders." He paused. "Fox..." "Mulder, sir." "Sorry, Mulder, why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" "Not much to tell, sir." "Well however little it may be, I'd still like to hear it." The boy sighed and looked again to his feet. "What should I say?" "Tell me about your family." "I did on the first day, sir." "I tend to forget things...could you remind me?" "My mom stays home. My dad works for the government." "Don't you have a sister?" The silence was heavy. "Yes sir." "What's her name?" He swallowed and then whispered, "Samantha." "Tell me about her. Is she older or younger?" "Younger." "What do you do together?" "Nothing sir. She doesn't live with us anymore." "Where is she?" "We don't know sir." "You were in the papers and on t.v. last year, weren't you?" Nod. David paused. How far should he push his suspicions? "Do your parents blame you for your sisters disappearance?" The question was blunt and to the point, and Mulder's eyes turned wide with shock. "No sir." "You are a very thin boy, Mulder. Do you get enough to eat at home? Is that why you don't eat lunch? Is there no food or money available to you? If your family needs help there are-" "No sir. That's not it. No one who lives on the Vineyard is poor sir." "Then what is it? What causes you to not eat, and keep company with only yourself? What do you write in that green notebook of yours? Why are you so reluctant to tell me things?" "I'm just kind of down, today sir. My old english teacher, Mrs. Thatcher just moved recently, and I was very attached to her sir. I'm sure it will pass." Fox remembered getting her letter and forwarding adress a few days ago. She wanted to say goodbye, so she said they could go to McDonalds this Tuesday. Fox was devestated, but only cried in the cave, in privacy. "I'm sorry, Fox. She was a good teacher, and I know of your relationship with her, but I'll ask you again. Do you get blamed for your sister?" Pause. "No." Such a short, but obvious lie. "You're lying." Gibson said sadly. Fox wiped his eyes then looked up. "It WAS my fault sir! They don't have to tell me it is, and even if they do-They're telling the truth!! I killed her! The cops think so, my peers think so, the town thinks so, my parents think so, and you think so, too! So it IS my fault! I should be dead. I wish I were dead! Why do I deserve to live? No one cares that I'm alive!? She was loved. Everyone loved her. I was always the unfavored one. No one would care if I left." The outburst ended in sobs and Gibson was unsure weather to comfort the boy, or let him cry. Before he could decide, the crying stopped. Fox wiped the tears harshly from his eyes and bit his lip. "I...I'm sorry sir." "Fox, do you believe that? Do YOU believe you killed your sister?" "I don't know what to believe. I was the only person there, and I'm the one who can't remember." "Did they find anything-evidence-to suggest you killed your sister?" "No sir." "Then as far as I'm concerned, you didn't. But do you believe all that about how no one cares about you?" "I KNOW so sir." "Fox, your parents! They care! I must care, or I wouldn't be here talking to you right now, would I?" "Sir, you don't know. You think I live a perfect 'Leave-it-to-Beaver' life? You're dead wrong." "Am I? Well then tell me." "If I tell you, you'll tell the world." "If I promise not to tell a soul on this entire earth...?" Mulder glared at him, untrusting. Gibson made the sign of the Holy Cross over his chest and swore. Gathering a shaky breath, Dave watched as the boy in front of him began to speak. "I'm sure Mom doesn't even know I exist. The doctor gives her so many drugs, she's always doped up. And all she does is eat, sleep, drink, and cry. She only leaves her room to go to the bathroom. I clean the house now.= I make the meals. I look after everything. "When my Dad comes home, he's always drunk and angry. I'm the answer to that problem. He tells me he hates me and tells me I was a mistake. 'Didn't mean to get her pregnant!' he always says. 'Thought about hiding the birth'. He tells me how Sam was better and how he wishes it was me that was gone. I don't even DO anything. I just stand there silent. It's not like I'm a snot. I don't rebel." he laughed bitterly and Gibson felt a chill run down his spine. "You'd think that he would stop, but he doesn't. There are always these strange men at our house, arguing with my Dad, but they're really nice to me. They tell all these secrets and talk about my sister and my mom... My Dad's always nice to me when they're over though." "Does he beat you?" Again, he looked at his feet. "No." "Bad?" "I said he _DOESN'T_ beat me sir." Fox said looking up, confused and ready to defend himself. "Can I see your back?" "Mr. Tassel told you." "Yes, and I'm glad he did." Silence. "Will you take off your shirt for me?" "Please..." "Fox, take off your shirt." The words were spoken quietly, without any harm or anger behind them; more like a question. The boy did as told. Mr. Gibson got up and walked around him. Red welt marks littered his students back, scars underneath them. Bruises were all over his arms, the long sleeved shirt he'd been wearing their disguise. Mulder had his eyes closed. "Does this hurt?" "No sir. I've learned to be strong. It's what I deserve anyways. I brought it upon myself." "You just told me that you don't do anything rebellious...how could you possibly...NO ONE deserves this, Fox!" "I deserve it." "Fox..." "I DESERVE IT." Fox's tone was harsh and cold...mechanical without feeling. Dave was shocked to find his throat was tight and tears lined his eyes. He was thankful that he was behind Fox at the moment. The boy really believed that this whole ordeal was his fault! He walked back around. "You can put your shirt back on. Fox...you shouldn't have to live in that house one more minute with your father. I can get you out of there into a safe place. I can-" "NO!!!! You swore you wouldn't tell!! You promised me! If you tell anyone... He'll kill me! I need to take care of my mom! She needs me! If I'm not there, he'll take it out on her! Who will take care of the house!!??" "We can get your mom help too! I can help you..." "NO! I don't need help! I should have never told you!" He got out of his chair and started moving about the room, waving his arms wildly. "You and your stupid 'I care' attitude!! Why did I tell you this? I'm so stupid! Just...just leave me alone. I thought I might be able to trust you! I guess I was wrong. I guess I can trust no one." He leaned against a wall and slid slowly to the floor, body shaking with silent sobs, face buried in his hands. Dave closed his eyes and asked God to please help him with this situation and then walked over to the boy and put his hand on Fox' shoulder. Mulder looked up angrily and whipped his arm away from his teachers hand. He quickly stood up and grabbed his books, swiping his arm across his face. "You swore." He said in a voice that dripped with betrayal. He then walked out and walked across the hall to the bathroom. Dave closed the door, went back to his chair and sat down. He felt something tickle his cheek, and went to brush the fly away-but his fingers came away slick with tears he didn't even know he was crying. Ashamed, he quickly wiped them away. But this situation was long from solved. The big problem was learning how exactly to resolve it. <><><><><> Fox ran all the way home from school that day. He hadn't uttered one word to anyone after talking to Mr. Gibson. He was afraid something else he'd regret saying would jump out before he thought it through. And he didn't want that. He got home, checked on his mom (who was sleeping-as always) and then gathered his things and walked to his cave. When he got there, he went straight to the spot where he kept his money. It was 'necessity' money-in case he ever needed anything. He carefully deposited a quarter into the growing stash. He had found it on the floor walking to Math, and he quickly bent down and scooped it up, then pocketed it. He didn't want anyone to claim it except him. He felt like he was stealing, but he knew that if he started asking, "did you loose a quarter?" everyone would say it was theirs. And he was on his way. He had been saving 'necessity' money for almost 2 years (not even Sam knew about it-but he was happy to move it outside where it would surely not be found after the cave was discovered. Sam was long gone by then, but it didn't matter. If his dad found he was saving money he'd get it good. His dad even confiscated the money he got from his grandparents for his birthday and Christmas.) He almost got up to $15.00, but had to take some for his school supplies (he took as well from his 'leisure' money in fear of spending too much 'necessity' money). So now he was down to 12.00. Sometimes he would take a quarter and buy a big loaf of bread, or a new pair of socks, or underwear. Right now, Fox was saving for shoes and a new outfit. He had never realized how lucky he was when he would get these simple things plus much more at his Birthday and Christmas. These days, Spring, Thanksgiving, and Christmas break were dreaded. No work for his dad + no school for him + being too cold to get out of the house and go to the cave = pain and suffering. Thanksgiving break was only a few weeks away. At least he had a few days to avoid seeing Mr. Gibson. Fox dreaded any more confrontations with the man. For the moment, Fox would be content if he never saw or spoke to Mr. Gibson again. It was a shame really, because he was an excellent teacher and Fox had favored him greatly. He was a role model for Fox at one time. His image put upon a high pedestal where Mulder was able to marvel at it. That image had fallen from the pedestal and shattered today. David Gibson was the last person (save Fox's father) Fox ever wanted to deal with. Of course, Gibson WAS the only teacher that he happened to have 2 classes with. Fox could tell that Gibson cared, but he sure as heck didn't know what was best for Fox. That was a fact. At least one Fox would believe. After building a fire, Fox did his homework; not alot tonight. 35 math problems on the Pythagorean formula, 5 chapters in the book 'Lord of the Flies' and miscellaneous stuff for Social Studies. All in all, only 2 hours worth. Swimming was a short-term subject, so Monday they would start Basketball in Gym, which excited Fox because he was good at it. Very good. When Mulder finished his homework, he grabbed his Robert Frost book and began to read. He must have fallen asleep then, because next thing he knew he was awakened by something warm rubbing his cheek. Warm and wet. Slowly opening his eyes, and trying to remain calm, Fox almost screamed when he found himself face to face with a huge jaw of sharp teeth. Sitting up, he realized that it wasn't a huge jaw, it was a small narrow one. It was a dog. And it was adorable. A yellow lab, Fox figured. The dog, which had been standing, sat, unintimidating. The dog sported a worn blue collar, and Fox discovered that it showed the dog was a boy. No other ID was found on the animal. The dog got up and walked up to Mulder, who was deciding whether to be frightened or excited. The dog walked over Mulder's long legs and sat down in his lap. Raising a shaky hand Mulder began to pet him. The dog's tail wagged back and forth quickly. He sat up and began to lick Fox's face. The boy, making his mind up, laughed and scratched the dog behind the ears. "Hey, Boy. Where'd you come from? Huh?" Fox asked the dog even though he knew he wouldn't get a response. "You don't have any tags...are you lost?" The dog stopped licking and looked at Fox in a way he thought only humans could. Somehow, Fox knew he had run away. He didn't want to go back to where he was from. "Well if you're gonna stay with me, you have to stay here boy. I can't bring you home. My dad..." The dog licked him once, a long one that tickled Fox and made him giggle. "Alright. Well, what should I call you?" He looked at the ring around the dogs neck. "How about Blue?" "Woof!" "Ok, then. Blue. I'm Fox. You hungry? Lemme go inside and get you something to eat, ok? Will you be ok out here? You can't bark, or make any noise, cause if my dad hears it, I'll get in big trouble. I'll be right back." Blue curled up by the fire and watched Fox leave. Luckily, Fox was able to sneak in and out of the house unnoticed. He grabbed 2 bowls, some cold hot dogs and a container full of water. Juggling that in one hand, he found an old pillow and blanket and brought those too. Fox had never seen a creature eat as fast as that dog. As he watched him he noted the scars that littered Blue's fur. He was abused. Like Fox. "Well, I can relate to ya boy. I know how it feels. But you probably didn't deserve it, didja? Didn't think so." Blue looked up, whined and sat down next to his master, who sat near the fire. The rest of the night, Fox read Robert Frost to Blue, talked to Blue, wrestled with Blue. And that dog became his best friend. And they slept outside, in the cold cave, near the fire. For the first time in a long time, Fox was happy. And though he felt guilty about it, he also enjoyed it greatly. _333_ days Dear Samantha, You will never guess what happened to me today! (1 good thing, 1 bad, bad thing) First the bad thing. Mr. Gibson confronted me today about the marks on my back from dad's belt. Mr. Tassel told him. Did I tell you about the swimming incident? I think so. Anyways, Mr. Gibson tricked me into telling him everything about you dad, and mom. It was more my fault though. I believed him when he said that he wouldn't tell anyone. So I told him my whole story and he told me that I shouldn't live here anymore! Can you believe it? How would that work? Dad would take everything out on mom and I can't have that. Plus, who would take care of the house and the yard? Who would cook for mom and dad? Mr. Gibson said that mom could come with, he could "help" her too. Yeah. My butt. I'm sure. If he told anyone, dad would only get angrier and hit me. Maybe he would even kill me. He told me I don't deserve anything dad does to me. I almost believed him!= But he tried to make it sound like it was dangerous living in this house! Dad only disciplines me-when he's home. He's home more and more these days though. Well, I still have my cave. I just couldn't believe that Mr. Gibson did that to me! He put me on the spot then accused dad and mom of abusing me and stuff because of you. I cried. Then I ran out. I can never look him in the eyes again. It'll just be a matter of time before all the teachers know. Then all the kids. Stupid Sonofagun. And I'm talking about both of us. How could I have told him all that? Dad will go bizerk! Oh, well. It's over and done with. Nothing I can do to stop it. Now for the good stuff. I was in my cave and I 'spose I fell asleep. Guess what woke me up? A DOG Sam!! He is so cool! He does tricks, and is quiet and perfect in every way. He's an older dog and I'm pretty sure he ran away. He's got scars all over his back, like me. He had on only a blue collar, so I called him Blue. I can't believe it Sam! We always wanted a dog but mom and dad wouldn't let us get one-remember? Hey! Maybe me and Blue can run away and he might be able to track you down. You would fall in love with him right away Samantha. I've been telling him all about you. He listens to everything I say and when I get home, we always go running or playing, and in the summer I told him we can swim.= Hey, ya know the wierd thing about Highschool? No one picks on me anymore! Ever! It's much easier to start the day without counting on a bully attacking you. That's because all the bullies are busy getting high. Heck, it's highschool, I'm the only one NOT doing drugs. I gotta go, it's real cold out here and it's almost 10 o'clock. I'm getting tired. Hey! Did you know tomorrow is Halloween? Sweet dreams wherever you are! I LOVE YOU-COME HOME SOON!! Love, Fox <><><><><> (Present day) (Margaret Scully's house) (11:26 p.m.) Scully's cell phone chirped shrilly from it's perch in her coat and it's owner started, as did her mother. "Hello?" she answered it, and realized how alien the words sounded on her tongue. She always answered her cell, "Scully." "Hey Scully, it's me. It's not too late is it? Am I waking you? Gee, I'm sorry, I-" "No, no Mulder I'm awake." "You sound tired. It's the weekend Scully! Go party hearty!" "Yeah, Mulder, I'm gonna go club hopping tonight. Sounds like fun." She felt her throat tighten. He sounded so happy. How could that be? "You sure you ok Scully?" "I'm actually curled up at my mom's with a sob story movie." "Ah! A chick flick. I shoulda guessed." He sighed. "Which one?" "'Far and Away' with Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman. Ever heard of it?" "Nope." "It's really sad." Truth was, she just couldn't stand talking to him right now. She knew too much about him and she felt strange. He had no idea what she knew at this point. She wanted to ask him so many questions and she just... couldn't. It felt so violating in the first place and then here she was, lying to him now. "Was there a reason that you called, Mulder?" "Uh...no, not that I can recall. Just bored I spose." "Why don't YOU go club hopping, Mulder?" "I can't go club hopping alone! That would only give gorgeous women the unbearable desire to pick me up. I can't have that, now could I? Too many women and not enough time..." he muttered under his breath. Scully laughed a forced laugh. What he was saying was funny but she couldn't bring herself to do anything that resembled joy at the current moment. "Maybe on a day that you could come with me, Scully. Then we'd have fun. Stay out till 5:00 in the morning on Sunday night. Come into work drunk as dogs and get Skinner really ticked! That sounds like fun! When shall I plan this for?" he giggled. Scully's throat once again felt tight. How could he...how did he possibly get over what happened to him? "Oh, Mulder...what will I do with you?" "Throw me in a broom closet somewhere and lock the door with the hopes of returning and seducing me into-?" "Mulder-just...just stop. You're ruining the mood of the movie!" She found a surprising touch of humor in her voice. "A'right. Well, I'll let you get back to your 'Lost and Gone' or whatever the heck it's called." "'Far and Away'" Scully replied, remembering what he was talking about. "Wha-hut-EVVAh, Scully!" he said with an interesting accent. "G'night Scully. Sweet dreams." "Yeah Mulder, sweet dreams to you too." She hung up and looked at her mom, who she had (shamefully) forgotten about. Scully wiped a lone tear from it's spot on her cheek. "Yeah, Mulder, Sweet dreams." she whispered once more, to herself more than to her mom. Unfortunately, she knew Mulder's dreams were never sweet and probably would never BE sweet. Always nightmares. Sam and Scully nightmares. He had confided in her that he had bad dreams about her. She guessed it awhile back, and nonetheless was speechless when he told her. She had witnessed the nightmares, and had always been there when she could, to try to comfort him out of the cold sweats and tears. But she had never understood what, for all these years, could cause him to wake up in such a manner every night of his life. Now she had some idea. Did he have 'daddy' nightmares too? Well, whatever caused him the pain he suffered each night, she prayed it would cease-just for tonight if possible. So her partner could have Sweet Dreams. <><><><><> _336_ days Dear Sam, Our house got egged and T.P.ed last night. Dad made me clean it all up this morning. I know the trick-or-treaters were mad, cause we weren't answering the door. We didn't have anything I could find to pass out. And everyone from school knew I lived here, so that was reason enough. Remember when Mom used to hand out caramel apples? Remember how we would eat all the leftovers because she made so many? Remember how sick we would get afterwards-after eating half of our collected candy plus 5 apples each and then we would laugh so hard at the dumb costumes we saw that we'd barf? I do. I wish we coulda done it this year. I'm too old to dress up of course, but I would take you and we'd do double blocks to get more candy. Then we could split it. We'd trade like we always do, too. Anyways, it took me almost 3 hours to clean up the damage to our house. 3 hours of cleanup versus 10 minutes of mess-up. Amazing. Well, it took my mind off of Mr. Gibson. I'm really mad at him still. I can't believe that he did that to me. The whole thing seems like a dream even though I know it isn't. I just wish... I don't know what I wish. I wish that you were still here. I wish Mom and Dad loved me. I wish I had a friend. I wish it didn't hurt to live. I wish I was never born. That's what I wish. I wish wishes came true. I don't think my wishes will ever come true. I don't deserve them to. I hate myself. You won't like what I'm about to say, but lately I've been contemplating suicide. But I've decided I can't kill myself because if and when you come home, who will be here for you? But if I die, will I see you in Heaven? Dad says I'm not going to Heaven. He says you will. But are you there already? I don't want to think about that, but if you are, you're better off anyways. I wouldn't be surprised if a sequel to Noah's Ark came in the next few years-this world is so corrupt. Well, I'm heading out to the cave to feed Blue, then we're going running. I don't know if we'll go right away though, 'cause it's noon and alot of runners around here run at noon, and I'd rather be by myself. Gotta go, I'll write later! Come home soon! I LOVE YOU!! Love Fox <><><><><> (Monday Morning) (Homeroom) (Fox's School) Fox reluctantly returned to school on Monday, knowing there was no way he could get out of it anyways. He went about the daily morning routine as always; fed and played a little with Blue, ate, dressed...got to school on time, stopped at his locker, and walked discreetly into Homeroom. He took the seat farthest from the front-he had gotten to school early today to make sure he did. He was the only one in the room, with his classmates not far behind. The sound of lockers slamming and the morning chatter invaded the empty class,= filling it and making Fox want to clap his hands over his ears. A killer headache had invaded his dreams last night and was still linger-no, lingering was hardly the word. It was still clasping on to his brain, claws digging in to his senses. Too much yelling last night. Not him, his father. He only got slapped a few times before he was able to escape to the cave. He returned when he was sure that his father was sleeping. Fox had yet to see Mr. Gibson this morning, which was good. If he had it his way, he would never see that man again. But Fox never got anything he wanted. He didn't expect to either. Ever. More students filtered in, then Mr. Gibson. The latter looked cautiously at Fox, and then looked away fast, when he saw he was being watched. Fox thought. Homeroom went on as usual, and Fox had no more encounters with Gibson until 6th period English. Fox's class was small; he thought bitterly. Anyways, there were only 14 kids in the class, so there was more one-on-one, and more discussion. That was bad. He had less of a chance to blend in if there were less kids.= Class went on that day, no different from most days. Anna Thompkins talked too much. Fox said nothing. Peter VanAutrey doodled on his notebook,= and put in his two cents worth when he felt like it. Fox said nothing. Zoe Grantly and Moe Dun gazed at each other with looks of love and secrets. Fox said nothing. Mr. Gibson kept looking at him, Fox knew, but the boy refused to let the teacher catch his eye. He wouldn't give him the chance to ruin everything in a split second. Thankfully, Mr. Gibson let him be. Somedays he would call on him and more or less force him into saying what he thought about whatever they were discussing; usually a book. Fox always said something that proved he had read the book, but sounded not quite as intellectual as the other students remarks. He'd been in classes where he'd spoke up once, and the teacher was so impressed with his words that he was forever more constantly called on. Then he would be ridiculed for being a teachers pet. But now that Mr. Gibson knew his dark secret, Fox wondered how he would be able to hinder the man from using it against him. He vowed he would tell no one about his family again, ever. Luckily, Fox was not called on in class that day. He watched the clock though class and when the bell rang, Fox was quick to the door. He held his breath and waited for Mr. Gibson to call him back. He didn't. He exhaled and walked on, realizing that if he wanted to attend his next class, Global Studies, that he'd better get turned around in the other direction. <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> (about 2 weeks later) (teacher meeting hall) (5:32 pm) "...now is there anyone who has any cares, concerns, etcetera that they would be free to share now?" Dean Gardner droned monotonusly. It barely snapped David out of his reverie. If he was going to bring up the issue of Fox Mulder, the time was now. And even though he had spent countless nights thinking about it, he still wasn't sure what to do. The obvious answer was to get the boy help, but that wasn't heard of these days; to remove a child from the parents care... David had spent time looking into Fox's family history, and the thing that was worrying him most was the fact that the 1st anniversary of Samantha Mulder's disappearance was in less than 2 weeks. He had almost decided to let it slide. The kid could be emotionally unstable after all that happened-the loss of a sibling and all-and he could blame the general, teenage bumps and bruises on his father, out of rebellion. He was a smart boy. He could make up something like that. Heck, he could be hurting himself. But word had it that William Mulder was a drunk, and in the logical part of his mind, Dave Gibson knew that it was anything but Fox's fault. And the bruises continued, noticed only by spys that he and Tassal had placed in gym and other places. They just had to pay attention, and the boys problems noticable. Dave took a breath. The time was now. He said a prayer, then raised his hand up slightly. The Dean nodded him on. He stood. Gibson asked, then began. <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> (Day before Thanksgiving Break) (Fox's house) Fox glanced at his watch. Hopefully (and not so) his parents would be home soon. He would rather be playing with Blue, then being stuck in the house. It had snowed yesterday, and Blue was delighted with the white powder. It was just a thin layer on the ground now, only about a half inch, and was quickly turning to slush. Thanksgiving break was here. Fox wanted to crawl into a small hole and die. Thanksgiving...Samantha's disappearance...the two were not associable. His dad would not be in festive spirits this holiday. He was downright afraid. Afraid of his father. Afraid of his emotions. Afraid that his sister would never come back... From the window in his room, Fox saw his fathers car pull into the driveway, his mom in the passenger seat. Another trip to the doctor, another trip to the Pharmacist. One big never ending circle. His Dad got out, and walked stiffly around to open up the door for his wife. Teena Mulder supported herself on her husband and walked feebly to the house. Fox ran downstairs to open the door for them. His mother smiled sadly at him, half drugged, and Fox felt a pang in his heart. He couldn't decide if it was guilt, pain, anger, misery, or jealousy. He decided it was jealousy. What heaven it must be for her-just going through life in a daze. Not knowing what was happening, not caring anyways. Being looked after and being too far deep to be depressed. What a life. Fox closed the door behind them and watched as his father helped his mother up the stairs. He knew that most likely, only trouble and anger would return down those stairs and quickly went to the kitchen and began silently starting dinner. He wasn't the best chef, and hated cooking, but he was the only one around the house willing to feed all of them. If he didn't, his dad would of course, but then Fox wouldn't be aloud anything to eat. He decided that cooking and eating was better than not doing either.= His father was upstairs with his mother a long time, and Fox was wondering what they could be doing, when a knock came at the door. He wiped his hands on his worn jeans and looked toward the door. He listened hard. He didn't hear his dad moving as to answer the door, so he walked quietly up the stairs. Fox observed his father sitting on the bed by his sleeping mother, caressing her hair like Fox hadn't seen him do for a long time. He stood in the doorway, wondering what he should do, when Fox heard the door open. Gazing down, he saw that it was Mr. Morely, the smoking guy. How did he get in? He didn't belong in their house without his dad's permission... "Sir..." Fox said meekly trying to get his dad's attention, and felt ashamed at how childish he sounded. He was 14. He should act it. His father's head snapped to the side, not looking at Fox, but at the wall.= "Someone's...here sir." "Who?" His dad's tone sounded alien to Fox's ears. It sounded sincere and soft? And that was the voice he had only used with Fox when he was a little kid. He always used it with Sam. "Your buisness associate, I think sir." Bill Mulder jumped up and strode through the doorway, pushing Fox aside hard into the wall. That was more like his father. At the top of the stairs the two men made eye contact and Father turned back to look at Son, "Go in your room boy. Now." And the boy did as told. As everytime when Mr. Morely came to call, the visit ended in a shouting argument, and this time, Fox even spied a blow from Mr. Morely to his father through the crack in his door. He knew he shouldn't feel the way he did, but he suddenly liked Mr. Morely very much. Deep down the boy felt that it was about time his father got what he gave. But those feelings were pushed back by loyalty to the family, and the wave of gratitude to the smoker just as soon turned to hate. Fox looked out his window toward the woods and the cave. He had been out with Blue for at least an hour before his parents came back, but he wished he could be with him more. He felt as if he were neglecting the dog, but also knew the canine understood. He heard the door slam and 15 minutes later, (when he felt it safe) went back downstairs to finish dinner. He set the table for two, and fixed a tray for his mom. He then went to the living room and softly informed his father dinner was ready. He was starving, personally. No reponse was given, and his father continued to stare at the almost muted television. A bottle of some type of booze was in his hand, more than 90% gone, another laying on the ground. The reporter for the Vineyard News spoke softly informing the locals of a fire earlier at Nancy's Pizza Parlor. Fox brought the tray to his mother, stopped in the bathroom, and as he was walking back down the stairs, through the den, an image of his missing sister caught the breath in his throat. They were talking about the anniversary of her disappearance. The television was muted now, and suddenly, without warning, Bill Mulder jumped out of his chair and spun around facing his son. Fox's heart skipped a beat then sped up. "You see this?!" his father said wildly gesturing at the television set. "This is your fault you little..." His words were cut off by a chair smashing against the wall beside Fox. It fell unbroken next to him. That chair was going to hurt Fox, and he knew it-should he remain next to it. "I-" "SHUT UP! I DON'T FEEL LIKE HEARING YOU TALK! SHE ALWAYS HAD BETTER THINGS TO SAY THAN YOU! WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE HER? WHY NOT YOU?" The veins on Bill Mulder's neck floated dangerously high above their normal resting spot, and his eyes were just about bugging out. Part of it HAD to be the booze. Fox was terrified. He had never been quite scared, he thought. "It's NOT MY FAULT!" Fox heard someone scream. The shock on his father's face told him that the words had come out of his mouth. The younger Mulder felt the room spin and his stomach dropped to his ankles. What had he just said? Why? What was he thinking? In this mood his father could kill him and not know. He got a sickening mental picture of his father kicking and punching his broken, battered, dead body. And how dead it was. The thought made him sick and hysterical at same time. The rest of the time went by in a daze. He felt something hit his head repeatedly, and realized it must be the chair. He had been so stupid... he shoulda moved. He felt something plow into his stomach, causing him to gasp for air and gag at the same time. But through the daze, Fox made out a dog barking, and was sure that he was dying. Shaking his head to clear his jumbled thoughts, realization hit him. It was Blue. Blue was attacking his father and trying to help him. How had he gotten in? He could hear his father scream in pain, and swear, and heard the growls and snapping of his dog's jaws. He was so afraid at that point, he just lay where he must've fallen (he didn't remember laying down... had he fallen? The thoughts blended like cream) and sobbed. Swimming back up to the world, Fox watched as his dog and his father battled it out. His dad was trying to keep the dog away from his throat and crotch and the dog was trying no to get smashed up against the wall. They danced around the room crazily, each trying to escape eachother, but fighting. In horror, Fox watched his father whip the Lab against the wall, and then while the dog-Fox's dog, lay whimpering, he kicked and jumped on it. Cracking noises and gasping breaths were the last noises Fox Mulder ever thought he would hear out of his companion. The loyal mutt had given (or was giving) his life to try and rescue Fox, and another piece of the boys heart was ripped to shreds. William Mulder just stood looking at the beaten animal and laughed. He turned to Fox, (who still cowered in fear and hate) the look in his eyes that of a fevered lunatic. And he laughed at his son. "Blue..." was all Fox could mutter in between sobs. "Was that what that thing was called? Tryed to bite my head off. Stupid Mutt! Your idea?! I should have thought so!" He lunged at Fox from across the room and suddenly the boy was up and running. He ran out away from his father and threw the chair in his way. He overturned a table, then quickly, painstakingly gathered the heavy dog's body and tried for the door. Fox's father wasn't even attempting to catch him anymore, but just standing there, looking at the boy with every emotion known to man swirling in his bloodshot eyes. Stumbling out the door as his father stood in the kitchen and watched him trip out to the woods. With hate still in his eyes, the man threw back his head and laughed. Fox could hear him laughing as he escaped. The laughs turned to crazy screams and he could see lights going on all over town in the approaching dark because of the racket that came from the Mulder house. Fox felt coldness beneath him and realized he had fallen, the dog rolling underneath him. Lucky for both of them that he landed on his knees. he told himself. It took him a week (or so it seemed to the dazed youth) to actually get to the cave, and getting in seemed to take longer. He half crawled half slid down the steps of the cave, laying the dog gently by the fire area. His shaking hands used up the last of the matches as he tried to build a fire. His tears kept putting them out. He sat cross legged next to Blue, looking, hoping and praying with all his might that the dog wasn't dead. Fox stroked Blue's fur so gently that he couldn't even feel the hairs, but the canine opened one eye lazily. He was all bloody, and whining. The two looked at eachother frightened and Mulder knew. This was the end. So he curled up around his best friend-his ONLY friend and cried and talked and sang to his dog while it died. Even after it was over, Fox clung to Blue's body, and rocked himself into a tear drunk sleep. Part of him hoped he'd never wake up. <><><><><> Sometime later, he didn't know how long, Fox found himself shivering. The fire had long since gone out, and he looked down and realized that he was clad in only jeans, socks that were soaked with cold water (which used to be snow and still was blood) and an undershirt that was wet too. There were extra clothes, as well as blankets, pillows and more matches for fires in the cave, but sadly, Fox didn't care if he froze. And he slept more. He couldn't feel his limbs anymore, and his head forced him from keeping anything down. He would retch endlessly, and when nothing was left, he started heaving air, then blood. But he didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. He was truely alone in the world-in his mind. No sister, no dog, no friends, no family. Fox awoke and slept, awoke and slept in a timeless cycle in a world with no morning, noon, or night. In reality, a day and a half had passed. His head hurt, and there was blood on his hands and shirt (and his hair and face and mouth of course). His stomach and ribs throbbed without mercy. Within that time, Fox mustered up the strength to painfully pen one last letter. Then he curled up, holding the picture of his lost sister tight in his arms as if it were a teddy bear. Fox's old teddy bear had been shredded in pieces by his father 2 weeks after "the incident with Samantha". And at home, he wasn't even missed by his insane father, nor his stoned mother. The house was a sad house and it held sad people. <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> David Gibson and a team of police, teachers and social workers visited the house of Fox Mulder 2 days after the death of Blue. When the subject at hand was not found within the vicinity, and neither parent knew the whereabouts, a search party was dispatched through the woods and town. Luckily, within 8 hours Fox was found by Dave Gibson himself. Shivering, incoherent, and clutching a photo frame and the carcass of a very dead dog as if it were life itself, Dave carried the boy to a waiting ambulance and away from the life he had been living. Away from his hateful disturbed father. Away from the home that had treated him so poorly. David thought, realizing he had never seen the boy smile. They never remembered to go back for the dog. His mother was getting the help she needed, and it was decided that if she was competent enough, she and Bill would seperate and she would watch over their child. Dave would always remember the first thing Fox had said to him when he was rescued: "Please don't tell my Dad about the cave." And he never did. He never told anyone as long as he lived. Mother and Son were treated and realeased within 3 weeks of eachother, and Father was arrested and served 3 months in jail (upon the plea of his wife and a good attorney-as well as all those...connections he had). Fox Mulder's life changed after that-at least at home, and he went on to Oxford years later. Dave Gibson became an ally again, and Fox found himself looking up to him as a male role model. Although he would probably never be the average child, or man, Dave was assured Fox Mulder would turn out ok in the end. He did. <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> (Present Day) (The forest behind Bill Mulder's former residence) (9:27 am) The cold October wind swept Scully's hair into her eyes, but she didn't brush it away. She was too busy thinking. She had read all the letters with her mom last night, and had ended up spending the night on the couch. But after an early breakfast she left. There were so many questions left unanswered; Why had Mulder stopped writing? HAD he stopped writing? What happened to the cave? Despite the wind, it was an oddly warm day. It was about 55 out, and it was mid October! The sun shone warmly and birds sang. She wished rain on the ironically chipper weather. After what she had seen and read, it seemed to be mocking her sorrow. Annoucing to her that Fox Mulders Trials, Tribulations, and Trauma as a child meant utterly nothing. She walked through the woods that morning, not knowing exactly what she was looking for, and just taking it all in. It was beautiful, yes, with the orange-red-yellow hues taking over the leaves and the foliage crunching beneath her feet. But shock and confusion hung about her and she was not able to enjoy it they way she could have. She was looking for the 14 year old Mulder's sanctuary. The cave. She had talked to him once more today, telling him that she would be out with her family, and she'd talk to him tomorrow. The concept of time slipped away from her and she continued walking, probably going in circles. She wondered with some amusment how she would find her way OUT of the forrest. Mulder's cave couldn't be too far from the house... Suddenly, she stopped short, not knowing why. She looked around, wondering if something was prowling in the woods, and suddenly, her eyes fell upon it. A huge white rock. She walked over to it carefully. The "door" Mulder'd made was wood, and would be decomposing, and she didn't want to fall into a rock cave. She felt around with her foot for the entrance, which didn't take long to find. She cleared the foliage and other wildlife type things from the hole, and took a deep breath as she took the old rotting wood plank from the cave. She lowered herself in, walking with ease down the "stairs", and realizing with some irony that her partner was probably even taller than her at age 14. The cave was perfect. No wildlife was here, no plants, no bugs, no animals she could spot. It was clean, and everything was just as it had been-she knew-like a picture frozen in time. <25 years.> she thought with disbelief. <25 years since anyone had been down here. It's a wonder that they haven't built a parking lot over this!> She looked around the large room, eyes feasting strangly on the treasures that it beheld. She slowly walked around the room, hands reaching out at the ancient comics, notebooks, small knicknacks that once must've been Samantha Mulder's. One blue birthday candle, never lit lay next to a picture of Mulder and a red headed woman, that oddly resembled Scully herself. A trunk that she opened to find non-perishable foods. A box with pictures in it. An old teddy bear that had a pink bow and a ribbon in it's hair (also Sam Mulder's most likely). Scully glanced sadly upon the things that lay here; laying in wait for their owner to return. These were HIS possesions when he was little. This was all he had. This was what meant the most to him in the world out in this cave. There were many pictures of Samantha Mulder in the cave, but she suspected the one Mulder had on his desk at home (and a copy at work) was the one he favored most-and that was why it was missing. She spied 2 coffee cans on the far wall and looked inside. Money. Of course. That was the money he had mentioned in so many of his letters. He was saving for a new outfit last she'd read. Thick novels littered the floor around Mulder's ancient sleeping bag, and Scully once again wondered what would cause her young partner to leave an perfect hideaway like this, and that's when it caught her eye. Partially blocked by a rock formation coming from the ground, where the "waterfall" (that's what she assumed it had been once. It had long since dried up) was the skeleton of a dog. Dana felt her heart flutter. It was Blue. Next to it, dried blood <25 years old!> stained the rocks and in the sand,= the outline of a body could be seen. Her partner's. 3 sets of tracks entered the cave (one being her own) but only 1 left. Mulder must've been carried out...the footprints were downright huge! Bigger than 11.5, that's for sure. And sitting where it most surely had been dropped, the white pages of paper waited. Scully gingerly plucked it from the den floor and inhaled deeply before opening it. She began reading it outloud to no one and to everyone. "Dear God, I'm sure you know by now that Blue is dead. Please watch over him and tell him I'm coming to be with him very soon. Tell him I'm sorry Dad hurt him and that I appreciate beyond words what he did for me, trying to protect me and all. I know I ask for alot these days, Lord. I know you work hard and keep the world running, and people live and die each day, but if you have time,= could you please do me a small favor? I know that I will die here in this cave, from my injuries from dad, so as I lay here, numb with cold, next to my dead best friend, I wonder if you could grant me one of these wishes before I die. I know I'm a bad, bad kid, and I probably won't be meeting you, but I do believe. Even if I say I don't, or don't want to, I DO BELIEVE in you. My favor is this. Actually, there's a few things, so you can choose the one that works best for you. I hope that you won't think badly of me anymore than you do for these requests. Please, forgive me. That's the first thing, Lord. If you could please forgive me for all of my sins...I lost my sister, and I know you know that, and I know you are taking care of her wherever she is, but if you could please forgive me for losing her...and ask her to forgive me too. I didn't mean to loose her and I would do anything just to know she was ok. Please take care of her. Even if she's alive she's an angel. If you can forgive me for taking her for granted, and playing whatever part I played in her leaving. I didn't plan it. I didn't want to get rid of her-I loved her very much. I know there were times when I swore that I hated her, or wished I was an only child, but I was only angry Lord. I promise I never really wanted that. I never wanted that. If you can forgive my father for hitting me...I know he didn't mean it either. I deserved it so, it doesn't matter. But he missed Samantha too, and so did mom. I know they will be sad that I died, but it is probably better. Please let them be ok, Dear Lord. I know I've begged for forgiveness every night of my life, and you probably hate hearing my excuses night after night, but since this is the last time I'll be talking to you, I can't help but ask you once more. Please forgive me for my horrid sins. I never meant anything that happened to happen. I only want my sister back, along with the rest of my life. I know that will never happen, but that is what I want more that anything right now. And from the bottom of my heart, I want my little sister to come home. I would trade places with her any day. Thank you for listening Lord. I can feel my blood freezing in my veins right now. I am so scared. I don't want to die, but I don't want to live even more. So thank you for ending my time on earth, because I know I don't deserve it anyways. I just wish that I could have lived a happier life on this planet. I wish I had had a friend. Just one person who would know me and love me for who I was, and never question the wrong things. I wish that there was someone who DID care about me...ANYWHERE in the world. I could have used it. I wish I had been able to leave my mark in this world--a GOOD one. I wish that none of the past years' events ever happened, and I wish that I could have died with a clear conscience. Please take care of my little sister, Samantha. Tell her I love her and I will miss her. Thank you. Fox William Mulder 11-27-74 " In all her years, Dana Scully had never been quite so sad. She sat with the paper in her had, silently sobbing in disbelief and horror. Nothing she had read before compared to this and every image she conjured up of her partner were memories of his nightmares. Every nightmare she had seen him wake up to rolled through her mind and the tears were set full force now. How had he...survived? What had happened in that house that night? How was he left in that environment for so long? He was so close to dying! At that moment in time, between the almost silent click of the second hand between the lines, Dana Scully believed in God more than she ever had in her life. Any secret miniscule doubt she ever had was cast out of her mind forever. Years of Sunday School never made her believe as much as the life story of the man she called her best friend. God had truely helped him survive in this life, and in her heart, she knew he would continue to live long into his elder years. And one day he WOULD find his sister. And she would be there with him. And for the infinite time that weekend, she thanked God for Mulder. For keeping him alive for her. She didn't know how long she sat in Fox's cave, bawling like a small child, but she did know that when she emerged, she was a different person.= And so was Fox Mulder. FIN ~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^ Dear Reader, May I start by saying that I truly appreciate if you have read this far. If you finished my story and are reading this letter, your are a real sport. I hope I did ok...I don't know. This is my first Fic (took me almost 5 months to finish!!) so it might need a little polishing... There WILL be a sequel to this, but freshman year is quite demanding of me, so less time will be spent on the computer, especially come midterms. Hopefully I will get the sequel out and running by uh...May. Not too sure yet. Luckily I already have the entire plot line. I really hope you enjoyed it...I know some of it may have been unrealistic or extremely violent, but...that is how my mind works. All characters are figments of my mind-I never had anyone in mind, except family and friends, who I used purely for names. Also, any sayings in here are copyright the writer...I just didn't get a chance to get anyone's names. Sorry. And also (another also) I wasn't sure when Mulder's parents got divorced, so I decided that after this story was a good time. Any other inconsistencies...please forgive me. I'm only a writer! I can't remember everything. Thank you from the bottom of my Mulder filled heart for reading my story and staying with me this long! I really mean it too! ThanX and good X-Philing to you always, -Awesomo Lalad