"DEMON'S DON'T DIE" by Shell Brown, tombrown@tiac.net, Copyright 1997 SPOILERS: Demons, CLASSIFICATION: T,A RATING: PG-13 for language. KEYWORDS: Mulderangst, SUMMARY: A follow up to "Demons." Mulder is kidnapped by Cancerman after exhibiting some very unusual behavior. Mulder thinks he is four years old! Mostly Mulderangst and Muldertorture. DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and Characters of Mulder, Scully, Cancerman, and Skinner, belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended. FEEDBACK: I would appreciate your feedback, especially anything constructive. I promise to respond to you. Flames shall be ignored. Send feedback to me at tombrown@tiac.net THANK YOU: Many thanks to my Copy Editor, Debbie Goldstein. You took me to task and challenged me to become a better writer. For this I thank you profoundly. Part 1 April 18 FBI Headquarters Basement 3:30 PM Mulder sat down into his desk chair with an "Oomph!" There was a pile of paper work to do and another stack of files to review. After cleaning the lenses with the bottom of his blue Polo shirt, he put on his glasses and grabbed the first form. #302 REQUEST FOR TRAVEL He sighed. He shouldn't even be in the office. He should probably still be in the hospital. Scully had dropped him off at his apartment only a few hours earlier. She was still angry at him for seeing Dr. Goldstein and undergoing treatment with him twice. But, the seizures had stopped and except for an off and on headache, there wasn't much for him to do in the hospital. They liked to keep him hooked up to EEG and ECG machines and schedule CAT scans and blood work and he had just_had_enough! Scully wanted him to stay for one more night but he couldn't do it, not even to please her. He wanted to go home and be alone. The problem was that once he was alone he found it intolerable. The memories that surfaced during the times he seized were still fresh in his memory and they made him feel anxious, angry, annoyed. He knew he couldn't sit still and the doctor's orders were no running or strenuous exercise until he was re-evaluated in a few days. Scully had taken his service weapon as well as his personal weapon. He wasn't to be trusted with a gun right now. Not after he had been prepared to use it to kill himself and then Scully. As usual, he couldn't blame anyone but himself. Jeez, the last week was a nightmare. He shook his head and refocused on the form in front of him. Well, if he couldn't run, maybe he could work this frustration out of his system. He scouted around for a pen. Scully was always stealing his pens. He gave up and went over to her "area." Oh, yeah, score! Plenty of writing instruments here. He grabbed a black pen and headed for his desk, when the fluorescent light went out over head. "Oh, great!" he murmured. He reached up and tapped the side of it to get it going again. How many times had he and Scully asked the janitor to come fix this damn thing? I suppose when you work in the basement your not top priority. Ah, the light came back on. He shook his head and walked back to his desk when the stupid light started to flicker. He took off his glasses and stared at it, when suddenly . . . Pain! A hot searing pain in his head. Oh, god it hurt so bad! Oh, god . . .can't breathe it hurts! Lights flashing in his head now. Red-pain, black-relief, red-pain and then the memories came again. They were at the summer house at Quonochotaug. He and Samantha liked it because of the loft that served as their bedroom. You could see the whole house from the loft. The best part was the ladder to get to the loft, it was fun climbing up and down and chasing Samantha around. But, there was arguing . . . yelling. He looked around and saw himself staring wide eyed towards the first floor. The kid was so scared. Mulder wanted to reach out to him but he couldn't. "Fox, I'm afraid," said Samantha. She was in her nightgown staring down as mom and dad fought. Mom was screaming something about "She's my baby!" What did she mean? He looked toward the other end of the house and saw a figure in the shadows. This man had been to the house before, but not for a long time. Fox remembered watching him water ski with dad driving the boat. He smiled, remembering his mother's laughter as she watched the water splash around, and how the man never seemed to fall. She would clap his hands in hers every time he came close to the shore. "Yeah!" They would yell. That was a long time ago, like 8 or 9 years ago. Why was he here now? "Fox!" He heard Samantha's pleading voice call him again. Oh, the damn pain in his head! He closed his eyes and concentrated on trying to breathe. He slowly opened his eyes. Where was he? He didn't know this place. Where was his dad? He got up off the floor and climbed into the big chair. His head hurt and his stomach didn't feel too good. He saw the phone and picked it up dialing "O" for operator. His mom had taught him that in case there was a fire or an emergency. "FBI Headquarters, this is the operator." What did that lady say? FBI? But dad works for the state department. He squeezed his eyes shut, his head hurt so bad. "I need to find my dad," he told the operator, his lower lip quivering. "Ah, excuse me?" the operator replied. "I'm lost and I need to find my dad. I don't feel too good can you get my dad, please? Please!" Linda, the operator, saw the call was coming from Fox Mulder's office. "Agent Mulder is this you?" she asked. "No, I'm Fox, his son. Please find daddy, I'm sick." Linda heard the small scared voice. It was a Saturday, who could she call to get him? "Hold on Fox, I'm going to try a number, you just hold on okay?" She thought she heard a whimper, "'kay," the little voice said. She decided to try A.D. Skinner's number. Maybe he would be there. What good luck! Someone picked up! "Yes." "Hello, A.D. Skinner? This is the operator calling. I have Fox Mulder on another line on hold. He's in his office and he sounds, well, strange. He's asking for his father, sir. I'm not sure what to do," Linda explained. "I'll take care of it. Thank you for your concern." As Cancerman replaced the receiver onto the cradle he picked up his pack of cigarettes and took the last one, lit it and inhaled deeply. "Mulder is looking for his father is he? Well, I'll do my best to accommodate him." He smiled before drawing in another drag of the acrid smoke. End Part 1 "DEMON'S DON'T DIE" by Shell Brown, tombrown@tiac.net, Copyright 1997 SPOILERS: Demons, CLASSIFICATION: T,A RATING: PG-13 for language. KEYWORDS: Mulderangst, DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and Characters of Mulder, Scully, Cancerman, and Skinner, belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended. Part 2 of 13 4:15 PM "He's on his way, so you can relax now," the operator said soothingly. "Well, okay. He's coming right now? Right?" "Yes, he is, so we're going to hang up now," she told Agent Mulder. "I'll wait for him then." An afterthought, (he was taught to be polite) made him add, "Thank you nice lady." He hung up the phone. The door opened. "Dad!" Fox yelped. "Dad, can we go home? I don't feel so good." "Why, what's wrong Fox?" the man asked. Fox looked at the man standing before him. "You're not my dad. Where's my dad? The lady said my dad was coming!" His eyes filled with tears. "I *need* my dad." "How old are you now, Fox?" the Cancerman played a hunch. Fox held up four fingers, "I'm . . . f . . .four." "My," he said, smiling, "aren't you a big boy." Fox nodded as his bottom lip began to quiver. "You remember me, don't you Fox from your summer home. The house near the lake." "You ski on the water real good. My mom says you're better than dad, but," he paused, "that's a secret," he whispered. Cancerman smiled. What an intriguing predicament this was. Surely, he could use it to his advantage. "I know where your dad is, he went to my office to get some papers. I'll call him and let him know you're ready to go home. How about that?" He put as much sugar in his voice as possible. Wiping his nose on his sleeve Fox said, "Okay." Cancerman picked up the phone and dialed one of his operatives. "Yes," answered the voice on the other line. "Bill, it's me. Yes, yes I'm fine. I have a surprise for you." "How can I help you sir?" asked the operative. "Well, I have your boy with me. Fox is here in the basement office. But he's not feeling very well and he's ready to go home. He seems a little confused. Maybe it's that flu that's going around." "I'm on my way. Is there anything else?" "Yes, good of you to ask. I think maybe something to settle his stomach, something to calm him down would be in order." "Understood, sir." "That's wonderful Bill. I'll be seeing you shortly then. Oh, yes, little Fox is just fine. Bye now," he put the dead phone on the cradle. Fox looked around the room. He turned into the chair so he could kneel on the seat and look behind him. "Oh, cool!" Fox said, and pushed the chair with his leg to get closer to the pictures on the wall. "Wow! Hey, umm, I forgot your name," he said shyly. "Oh, that's all right, you're just a little boy Fox. You can call me Mr. Cole," short for Colquitt, his protagonist in the mystery stories he loved to write but had never published. He smiled to himself, yes, that's a nice touch. "Okay. Mr. Cole, did you see this cool picture? It's a flying saucer just like Lost-in-Space on T.V., they have a robot!" He giggled, "But I like Marvin the Martian better, he's on T.V., too." He turned around, "Do you watch Saturday car-toooons?" Forcing a small smile, "Why I think I missed that one, son." Fox turned back to the pictures. "Oh, Well, Marvin is from Mars but Daffy Duck and Bugs Bunny have gone to his planet." He spun back around to Mr. Cole explaining, "but they flew in a *rocket* not a flying saucer." "I see. Isn't that interesting," he said. Where the hell were his men. He was beginning to tire of this drivel. "How is your mother, young man?" "Fat," Fox replied. "But it's okay because she's eating a lot so she can make a baby." "Really," he said, smiling. Yes, Samantha. What a special girl, he thought. He checked his pockets and found a new pack of smokes. He fished one out and lit up. "My dad smokes too you know, " Fox looked mischievously to each side, "but I think it's kinda stinky. Oh, sorry Mr. Cole." "That's okay Fox, grown ups do things that their children may not like, but that's just the way it is." "Yeah, I guess." Turning around and sat in the big chair. The light above began to flicker. His face tipped towards the broken light. "Ow!" he screamed. Cancerman watched without emotion as Fox Mulder fell to the floor and began convulsing. He must still be feeling the affects of that ridiculous treatment he sought in Rhode Island. The old man had read all the reports from Agent Scully, the psychologist's records and of course he had all the data from the hospital where Mulder had been admitted. What a fool. "Sir?" came a voice from the door. "Thompson, Matthews, it's about time you got here. Did you have a problem with the access cards I gave you?" "No, sir. What's going on?" Cancerman sighed and waved his cigarette in the air, saying, "Oh, Mulder's having a seizure. But something very interesting has just happened. Before he started this nonsense, he thought he was four years old." The operatives looked at one another. "I assume you've come prepared?" he asked them. "Of course sir," spoke Matthews, producing a physician's bag. "Go to it then," Cancerman ordered. Fox had stopped convulsing. He was on the floor by his desk. Oh no, another seizure. He needed Scully. He took a deep breath and started to get up when he felt two strong hands force him back on the floor. "What the hell are you doing?" Mulder opened his eyes slightly, the light hurt his head. "Who are you?" he yelled. "Not to worry, Agent Mulder, I'll take good care of you," the voice of Cancerman. Mulder's eyes flew open, damn the light, it hurt his eyes. "What are you doing here? What do you want this time you black lung son . . . " he said. He felt a pair of hands force his head down onto the floor. Matthews took out the Morphine filled syringe. Mulder saw Matthews. He made an attempt to get away. He watched Mulder as he kicked his legs out in an attempt to throw his operatives off balance. Thompson finally sat on his chest, cutting off his breath and any will to fight. Matthews gave Mulder the injection. Lewis got off of Mulder's chest and he listened to Mulder coughing, trying to fill his lungs with air. "How about a nice nap, young man," he said, watching Mulder's body go limp. End Part 2 of 13 "DEMON'S DON'T DIE" by Shell Brown, tombrown@tiac.net, Copyright 1997 SPOILERS: Demons, CLASSIFICATION: T,A RATING: PG-13 for language. KEYWORDS: Mulderangst, DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and Characters of Mulder, Scully, Cancerman, and Skinner, belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended. Part 3 of 13 Alexandria, VA Mulder's Apartment 5:45 PM Dana Scully checked her hair in the lighted mirror on the car visor and pulled a straying strand back behind one ear. Her eyes found themselves in the mirror. She scolded herself. "What *am* I *doing*?, she asked. She shook her head and shoulders, trying to relax, and reached over to the large bag of Thai food. She had considered paying someone to deliver the fragrant meal to Mulder's apartment, but decided to deliver it herself. Someone had to check on him. She got out of the car and walked into his building. As she approached his apartment she tried to convince herself she really wasn't *that* angry at Mulder. Unfortunately, she wasn't too convincing. What had made him undergo that absurd treatment from Goldstein! Mulder was above that. He knew too much to buy into that snake oil treatment! Lost in thought, she had been standing in front of his door for several minutes before she began to knock. She called out, "Mulder, it's me. Are you awake?" She knocked again and shifted the bag of food. "Hmmm," she muttered to herself. He could be sleeping. Actually, he should be sleeping. She brought out her key to his apartment and opened the door as quietly as possible. There were no lights on in the cozy apartment. She flicked on the overhead light. "Mulder?" she said, looking in the direction of the kitchen. Nothing. Time for the ultimate Mulder-test. She walked over to the T.V. and felt the top. It was cold. Well, it's not totally inconceivable he's in the bedroom. She put the food down on the coffee table and walked toward the bedroom. "Mulder, it's me. Are you awake?" she called, turning on the light. No one here but the dust bunnies. "Shit," she said, kicking his door. Where did he go? She shook her head. What made her think he would do what he was told and actually stay home and rest as the doctors ordered? She was sick of being ditched. She was sick of needing to chase him down all the time. She was sick of worrying about him. "Fine! Whatever!" she announced, to the room. She turned and walked toward the phone, picked it up and dialed the office, and let it ring 8 times. If he's there he's not picking up. She tried his cell phone. No answer there either. Now what? She felt tired. The last few weeks had been difficult and she really wanted a break. Shaking her head, she knew what she had to do. But she didn't like it and she didn't appreciate having to run around town to find him. She did her best to put her temper in check and began her search to find him. End Part 3 of 13 "DEMON'S DON'T DIE" by Shell Brown, tombrown@tiac.net, Copyright 1997 SPOILERS: Demons, CLASSIFICATION: T,A RATING: PG-13 for language. KEYWORDS: Mulderangst, DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and Characters of Mulder, Scully, Cancerman, and Skinner, belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended. Part 4 of 13 U.S. Route 395 5:45 PM He took another drag of his cigarette and picked up the phone in the limousine. After hitting the speed dial button, he looked over at Mulder's sleeping form. "Yes," the voice answered. "Is everything ready?" he asked, while expelling the smoke. "We have followed your instructions completely, sir." "Good. I expect nothing less. We'll be arriving in an hour or so. Make sure you're available for our arrival." "Yes, sir." He hit the =end= button. "How long will he stay out?" he asked Matthews. Matthews nudged the sleeping body next to him. "He should be out for another 30 minutes possibly an hour," he stated. "I'll stand by for another injection when you order it, sir." "That's very good, Matthews, very good," Cancerman responded. He put out a cigarette and reached for his pack for another one. They had been on the road for another 40 minutes when Mulder began to stir. Mulder knew he was moving but something wasn't right. He blinked his eyes hard and tried to open them. He was riding backwards! He cleared his throat and attempted to take a deep breath. That brought an immediate feeling of being suffocated by the caustic smoke he'd just inhaled. He began to cough violently as he raised himself to a sitting position on the seat. Oh, man he was dizzy. He brought his hands up to his eyes and rubbed them. "What am I doing here?" he asked, quietly. "Something very interesting happened today, Agent Mulder. Shall I tell you about it?" said Cancerman. Mulder sat up straight, folded his hands in his lap, and stated, "There is nothing you can say that would possibly interest me." The older man blew a big puff of smoke in his face. Mulder grimaced and moved his head before he began coughing. That bastard. Mulder looked out the window and saw they were about to enter an underpass but he didn't know where . . . "No!" he said, forcing his eyes closed. The pain in his head felt worse; god who could believe it could get worse. The lights. It was the lights from the tunnel as the car passed them one by one. Mulder saw the flash of red and heard the sound of muffled voices. "Fox, I'm afraid." Samantha was scared. He looked over and saw her knees drawn up under her night gown. What was that noise? He peered over the edge of the loft and watched his parents arguing again. Someone else was there. "You're a little spy," the man said. "Ow!" he yelled, the pain searing through his eyes and ears. He was remembering again. As Mulder began to seize, Matthews took hold of his arms and held him as still as possible. He was strong. Matthews may have underestimated him, he thought, watching the scene in mild amusement. Matthews slowly released his hold on Mulder when the convulsions turned to small twitches. He reached underneath the seat and slyly brought out the medical bag. "Not just yet, let's see who we have here," he said, with a hint of a smile. Matthews picked up the bag sand tucked in along side of him. Probably a good idea. No need to be caught unprepared should a situation arise, he thought, filling the car with smoke. Matthews shoved Mulder to the other side of the luxurious bench. Good they had exited the underpass. "How are you feeling young man?" Mulder put his arm over his eyes. "Mr. Cole? Are we almost home? Dad? Where's my dad?" "Yes, we're almost there, Fox. We're meeting your dad back at the house, remember?" he said, fishing for another cigarette. "I thought dad was coming to get me," a young voice replied. "I don't feel too good. My head hurts and my stomach hurts and,"--big breath--"I don't want be here anymore. I want to go home. Please, Mr. Cole, can we go home?" "We're on the way to your house now, Fox." Cancerman answered. "We'll be there in a few minutes. Surely, you can wait just a few more minutes?" Fox brought his arm down and sat up straight. He blinked hard and looked around, "Are we in your car, Mr. Cole?" "Why, yes we are Fox. You remember my big car don't you?" He shook his head, "No, I don't remember your car. You water-ski good and when you come close to the shore you wave. Me and momma say 'yeah!' I remember that," he said, trying to take in a deep breath. "Can I have something to drink?" Cancerman nodded to Matthews. Matthews reached into the limousines' built in refrigerator and pulled out a small orange juice bottle. Fox squinted at the man next to him. "I don't know you!" he said, and scrambled towards the far end of the bench seat. "Why, Fox, this man is one of my employees. Don't worry young man. Dr. Matthews is a nice man," he assured the boy. Matthews looked at the man who had changed before his eyes into a boy. "Would you like some orange juice Fox?" he asked. "There's plenty in the refrigerator," he held out the juice bottle. Fox looked over to Mr. Cole. "Go ahead Fox, help yourself. We have plenty to share here," he said. Grinning, he stubbed out his cigarette in the over flowing ashtray. Fox accepted the juice, but didn't meet the gaze of Dr. Matthews. Looking at the bottle, he bit his lower lip. He needed help to open it. "Here, I'll open that," offered Matthews. "Okay," Fox handed it back to him and watched him flip the top off. "Wow! Neat!" he remarked, and drank down half of the juice eagerly. The child felt cold. Bringing his knees to his chest, and putting his feet on the seat, he wrapped his arms around his legs, trying to get warm. Cars and buildings were passing by and nothing seemed familiar. "Where's the park, Mr. Cole?" he whimpered. "I can't find the big house on the hill. Are we lost?" "We're just taking the scenic route, Fox," Cancerman replied. He gazed out the window, looking at the trees. "It's almost dark, Mr. Cole." "I'm not allowed to be out after dark. My dad is gonna be real mad at me." The child squirmed, "I hate it when daddy gets mad." Taking charge Cancerman said, "Well, let's take care of that." To the amazement of the child, he picked up a phone and hit a few buttons. "Bill. Yes, I'm here with Fox we're almost there. He's concerned about being out after dark. It's okay as long as he is with me. Isn't that right Bill?" ". . . if you're taking the expressway press 3 now, if you're on Route 495 press 4 now, if you're . . . " the automated voice on the end of the line continued to drone on and on. "That's what I thought. We should be there in a few minutes. Oh, he's behaving wonderfully. All right then. Good bye," he said. "So, he's not mad?" the boy asked shyly. "No, Fox, not at all. How's your headache, by the way?" he lit a fresh cigarette. "My head hurts real bad," he complained. "But I promise I won't throw up in your nice car, Mr. Cole, I promise." He used his free hand to rub his eyes. They burned from the smoke. "I wish I had one of my Paddington the Bear books, Mr. Cole," he admitted. "Sometimes, when I'm too tired to read, I like to just hold them. Do you know Paddington? He's a bear who gets lost, kinda like me. Paddington is nice but he likes orange marmalade. Yuck." He made a face. "Do you have any books here?" "Sorry, Fox, I'm afraid I don't." Fox shrugged, "That's okay." Cancerman gave a nod to Matthews and accepted the small Halcion pill Matthews handed to him. "This will help your headache," he said. Fox looked up. "I'm not allowed to take things from . . . " "Oh, Fox, please don't call me a stranger. You can trust me, can't you, young man?" he asked leaning forward and extending his palm closer to the boy. Fox's eyes wandered all around the car and then shrugged, picking up the little pill. He popped it in his mouth and began to chew. "Yuck!" he said, his face souring. "Drink your juice. That's a good boy," said the old man. Fox finished his juice and handed the empty bottle to Mr. Cole. He didn't know the other guy. "Here, I'm done." "Oh, what a good boy you are," he said, through pursed lips and nodded to Matthews to take the bottle for him. Fox turned and knelt on the over-stuffed bench. Sitting back on his heels, he looked out the window. "I don't know this place. How far away are we?" "Oh, not far at all." "Okay. Can we go to McDonalds, Mr. Cole?" the child asked, "I'm hungry." "I think we can manage that. You did miss your dinner, didn't you?" "I don't know. I'm just hungry," he said, leaning his head against the glass. In a short amount of time, the car had lulled him to sleep. End Part 4 of 13 "DEMON'S DON'T DIE" by Shell Brown, tombrown@tiac.net, Copyright 1997 SPOILERS: Demons, CLASSIFICATION: T,A RATING: PG-13 for language. KEYWORDS: Mulderangst, DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and Characters of Mulder, Scully, Cancerman, and Skinner, belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended. Part 5 of 13 FBI Headquarters Basement 6:30 PM She knew something was wrong the moment she opened the door to the office and smelled that horrible, revolting cigarette smoke. Turning on the lights, she saw the burned- out cigarettes scattered on the floor. Disgusting, she thought. Well, he wasn't in the office. She picked up the phone and dialed his cell number again. "Dedededede" What? "Dedededede" Turning around, she saw Mulder's black leather jacket on the coat rack. His phone was ringing from the pocket. She went to the coat, took it out, and turned it off. Where would he go without his coat and cell phone? Glancing around the office, she saw papers under the desk. Mulder's filing technique needed some work. Kneeling down to retrieve the papers, she noticed a small blue cylinder. Grabbing it, she sat up, scrutinizing the plastic in her palm. "Oh, my God!" she exclaimed. The office phone rang and she picked it up immediately. "Mulder?" she said hopefully. "No, this is the operator. I'm about to finish my shift and wanted to make sure everything is okay," the voice said pleasantly. "What do you mean? Why are you calling here?" asked Scully impatiently. "Well, I got that strange call from Agent Mulder earlier," the operator said nervously, "and I called A.D. Skinner at his office and he said he was going to Agent Mulder's office to help him." Scully's thoughts were racing. She informed the operator, "I don't know what you're talking about. Look, I need to know what happened here. What's your name?" "Linda. I work the PBX board on the weekends," she said. Scully heard the tremble in her voice. "Linda, tell me what happened." Scully listened to the operator's story and thanked her. The agent added that she might be receiving a call from either herself or Skinner later if they had any more questions. "I understand Agent Scully. I'll be home all evening," she said. "Thanks, Linda." Scully hung up the phone and dialed Skinner's home number quickly. "Skinner." "Sir, it's Agent Scully, I think we have a problem." End Part 5 of 13 "DEMON'S DON'T DIE" by Shell Brown, tombrown@tiac.net, Copyright 1997 SPOILERS: Demons, CLASSIFICATION: T,A RATING: PG-13 for language. KEYWORDS: Mulderangst, DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and Characters of Mulder, Scully, Cancerman, and Skinner, belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended. Part 6 of 13 North Springfield, VA Abandoned School 7:00 PM The small room was perfect. There was a red-railed youth bed, a slender standing reading lamp, some childrens toys and books in a basket opposite the bed. The overhead light was actually a strobe light. There was a control panel outside the room that could cause the flashes to increase or decrease. Mulder's seizures and subsequent change in age was always precipitated by flashing lights: the light in the office, the lights in the tunnel. Something less subtle may have worked, but the old man wanted to be sure. "Bring him in," he announced. Matthews and Thompson dragged Mulder into the room and threw him on the bed. "The Halcion tablet should keep him out longer than the injection. Do you want to set a schedule, sir?" asked Matthews. "Let him sleep throughout the night," he said, exhaling a long stream of smoke. "I'll decide tomorrow what I want to do with him." He found himself smiling: a true enthusiastic grin. Tomorrow should prove to be an interesting day. FBI Headquarters Basement 7:30 PM "So what exactly have we got here Agent Scully?" asked the handsome fortyish man wearing a melon-colored shirt. Scully controlled the panic she felt rising inside her. "Earlier this evening, I went to Agent Mulder's house to bring him dinner," she said. "However, he wasn't at his apartment." Skinner nodded, "So you decided to check for him at the office?" "Yes sir," she replied. "I found his car in the parking garage and came here hoping to find him at work." "Stop right there Agent Scully." Skinner looked at her directly. "Would you care to explain to me why Agent Mulder is not in a hospital at this time?" Dropping her head, Scully gazed at the cluttered desk top. She should have trusted her gut instinct and left Mulder in the hospital for one more night. It was infuriating that he could manipulate her to get what he wanted. "You know Agent Mulder and hospitals, sir. He was released, albeit reluctantly, by his doctor earlier today." "I see," said Skinner, kicking a discarded cigarette butt across the floor. "You decided to check for him at the office when you noticed that a certain someone made a visit here." "Yes, sir," she answered. Pointing to the coat stand, she explained, "His coat and cell phone are still here and I also found this." She opened her hand to reveal a slim blue plastic cylinder about 2 inches in length. "This looks like a cap to a hypodermic needle," he remarked. Frowning, she said, "I agree sir and there's more. According to the operator, Mulder called her at approximately 3:30 PM and asked for his father." "Did I hear you right, Agent Scully? Mulder was asking for his father?" Scully nodded. "Linda, the operator, said Mulder sounded distressed. Unsure what to do, she called your office and a man answered the phone." She took a breath and continued, "She assumed it was you, sir." "But it wasn't me." Skinner furrowed his brow. "I didn't come into the office at all this weekend." "I understand that, sir," Scully said. "Whoever answered your phone said he would take care of Agent Mulder . . . " She heard her voice falter slightly. "I realize this man was not you. That's why I called you," she continued. "I believe that Agent Mulder was drugged and taken against his will from this office. And I think we both know who did it." Skinner squinted. "But why? What motive would he have?" Scully felt her face flush. Mulder was missing and probably in danger and she was *still* angry. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head and neck, trying to shake off the anger physically. "I believe sir, that it has something to do with the treatment Agent Mulder had received in Rhode Island. It's possible that he continued to regain what he states are childhood memories." Skinner shook his head, saying, "So . . ." The overhead light began to flicker. Scully automatically grabbed a rolled up piece of newspaper, walked under the light, jumped and swatted the blinking light. Of course! she thought to herself. How did she overlook this? "Sir!" She announced, "I think I might know what is going on." Skinner looked at the floor, grinning and trying not to laugh. He didn't want Scully to see how amused he was by the whole light trick scenario. He wondered how long the two agents had been taking turns swatting the thing to keep it going. After composing himself, he asked, "What do you have Agent Scully?" She explained, "The flickering light. It can trigger a seizure. I can't believe I didn't think of this before!" Mulder should never have come into this office before this stupid light was fixed, she thought angrily. "I'm not following you here," Skinner admitted. "Seizures can be triggered by a number of different factors including flickering lights. Some people with epilepsy can't play video games or take subway rides because of the way the lights flash." She looked at her superior. "I believe, sir, Mulder had another seizure while Cancerman was present." She walked to her chair and sat down while considering her next thought. "Cancerman may have thought he could use Agent Mulder's condition to his own sick advantage." Skinner's eyes opened wide. "How's that?" he asked. Scully met his gaze. "Agent Mulder feels that the man we refer to as Cancerman was somehow involved with his family as well as his sister's abduction." "Really," Skinner remarked. "He knew the Mulder family perhaps 30 years ago?" He crossed his arms and leaned back against the table. "I don't know that as a fact, sir," Scully admitted. "This particular memory is a direct result of the treatment Mulder received in Rhode Island. The drugs that the psychologist used produces visual hallucinations. I couldn't say which memories are the truth and which memories are inventions of a compromised mind." Skinner considered what Agent Scully had just told him. "What does Mulder believe?" Scully straightened. "That's what we all would like to know, sir." End Part 6 of 13 "DEMON'S DON'T DIE" by Shell Brown, tombrown@tiac.net, Copyright 1997 SPOILERS: Demons, CLASSIFICATION: T,A RATING: PG-13 for language. KEYWORDS: Mulderangst, DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and Characters of Mulder, Scully, Cancerman, and Skinner, belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended. Part 7 of 13 WARNING: This section contains graphic language and graphic violence. April 19 North Springfield, VA Abandoned School 2:30 AM Mulder woke from the nightmare in a sweat. Pulling off his shirt, he wondered why it was so hot in here. Wait a minute. He looked around the room. Where was here? There was a reading lamp on, but it provided poor light. Standing up slowly, Mulder attempted to ignore the dizziness he was feeling. He took a few steps over to the basket and kicked it lightly. A teddy bear fell out. "What the hell is this?" he said. He looked at the rest of the contents: coloring books, crayons, a toy truck, plastic blocks, different childrens books, more stuffed animals. "Am I being help captive in Romper Room?" he said. There was a table with a McDonalds' bag on it, and his stomach grumbled. How long has it been since I've eaten? He grabbed the burger and ate it eagerly. What happened? Where is this place and why am I here? Okay, I was working at the office and then . . . Oh no! Not again. Damn it! I must have had another seizure, he thought angrily. When I was released from the hospital, I was told I was fine! I need to calm down and clear my head. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He did this two more times before opening his eyes. Spotting a drink on the table, he grabbed it, slurping down the warm coke. There was a heavy metal door, painted beige. "What the hell," he said and walked over to it. Tugging on the door knob, he found it was locked. Why am I not surprised, he thought. Mulder pounded on it. "Hey! I'd like to use the little boys room please," he yelled. The dizziness had come back. Turning his back to the door, he used it to prop himself upright. He saw a small disk in the ceiling. I can assume I'm being watched, he thought. Shaking his head, he tried to get a clue as to why he was in this place. He heard a noise at the door and hid behind it as it slowly opened. "Just come out quietly," a brusque voice ordered. What was he going to do? Hit him with a Dr. Seuss book? He walked out into the open. "Okay," he conceded, "I'll cooperate." "You sure as hell will," a male voice said. Two men entered and after forcing his arms behind him, shoved him into the bathroom across the hall. He fell onto his hands and knees before hearing the door lock behind him. "He's awake?" Cancerman asked. "For now," answered Thompson. He lit a fresh cigarette. "How did he seem?" "Older," replied Matthews. Cancerman nodded. "Give him a few more hours to sleep and we'll begin the experiment in the morning," he ordered. "I trust you can manage the situation until then." He dropped his cigarette, stomping out the burning ember. "Yes, sir," answered the operatives, as they watched him walk back to his office. Mulder overheard the conversation. Experiment? Oh, shit! He looked around the bathroom looking for any kind of weapon; all he saw was a shower stall, a toilet, a sink with a bar of soap and a small stack of paper towels. Well, at least there wasn't a potty chair. There was nothing he could use to defend himself here. He tried to open the door and when he couldn't, he called out, "Can I get out of here?" Mulder heard the door unlock and saw it move slightly inward. He sprinted out the door, using both hands to slam it open. As soon as he got a few inches from the door frame, a taught, muscular arm caught him at his chest. He felt his legs go out from under him and he landed hard on his ass. "Ow!" He scrambled to get up. A kick to his ribs knocked him back down to the floor. Panting, Mulder rolled away to the side and into the wall in an effort to get away from his attackers. He made another attempt to get up when he felt a kick to his lower back. "Ah!" he yelled. A hand grabbed him by the hair, and his scalp burned as he was pulled to the center of the bathroom. He kicked his legs out wildly, hoping to strike someone, somewhere important. Suddenly, his legs were gripped tightly at the knees by a pair of strong arms. He was rolled onto his back. The smaller of the two men grabbed his arms and pinned them over his head at the elbows. Mulder twisted his torso trying to break free of either man's grip. The smaller man then put a knee on his chest and as the grip was eased up on his legs, the man took his foot and tucked it underneath Mulder's groin. "I would suggest that you do not move," said the smaller, but still very strong, man. "Fuck you!" Mulder managed to say. Jeez, he couldn't breathe. The bigger man holding his legs released his grip altogether. Mulder pulled his legs up hoping to get in one good kick but the smaller man on his chest brought up the foot under his groin hard and swift. He tried to scream something but he had no voice, no power to scream. He felt the pain spread from the bottom of his groin throughout his belly. Mulder saw stars. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing. He tried to move his legs, but the pain made that impossible. When he opened his eyes he saw the larger man holding a hypodermic needle. "No!" he yelped. The smaller man responded by leaning harder on his chest along with a tighter tuck under his already sore nuts. He tried to move his arms but all he could do was move his hands a little. "Is this really necessary? Can't we discuss this?" The large man pushed the plunger on the needle and Mulder saw fluid fly. "Guess not," he croaked. His hips were moved up and toward the side slightly. His nuts were pinched against the shoe. Ha! and he thought the pain couldn't get worse. Oh, boy! He tried to make a sound but all he could do was pant. His jeans and boxers were tugged down and he felt the burn of an injection in his backside. "Oh shit," he muttered. "'Oh shit' is right," said the man holding him down. He was pushed back so he was laying flat again. He felt a pair of hands hold his knees down. The smaller man took his shoe out of Mulder's crotch and his knee off his chest. Mulder gasped for air. He lifted his head and saw that the room was starting to spin. He tried to move his arms but they were still being held down. He tried to roll over and found he didn't have the strength to move anymore. His eyes couldn't stay open any longer. He felt himself being picked up under the arms and the again by his ankles. He felt his ribs smack against the door frame but he didn't care. He was relieved of his pain as the darkness enveloped him completely. End Part 7 of 13 "DEMON'S DON'T DIE" by Shell Brown, tombrown@tiac.net, Copyright 1997 SPOILERS: Demons, CLASSIFICATION: T,A RATING: PG-13 for language. KEYWORDS: Mulderangst, DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and Characters of Mulder, Scully, Cancerman, and Skinner, belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended. Part 8 of 13 9:00 AM Matthews was sure the old man purposely blew a stream of smoke into his face. "What exactly is your medical training?" asked the Cancerman. "I was pre-Med at Georgetown, before I was recruited by the FBI. I also have EMT training, sir," he replied. The old man nodded, "Given what I've told you about our guest's recent experiments with Ketamine, can you give me an explanation for these periods of time where he believes he is a child?" Matthews considered his response carefully. This is not a man he wanted to second guess or play games with. Too many colleagues had died under mysterious and grisly circumstances, not to mention the ones that seemed to have disappeared off the planet. He thought back to his old partner, Jack. They had both been recruited by the Cancerman, from the FBI. He had promised them more money, less hours and power. "Power to create the future," he had told them. Both he and Jack believed their boss, until he became obsessed with Agent Mulder. There was something sick about this obsession, almost incestuous. Jack confronted the Cancerman once, just in a passing comment. The next day, when Matthews took his trash out to the trash bin, he opened the side door to the dumpster and saw a body dressed in a dark suit. He climbed into the rancid dumpster and pulled the body up out of the garbage and the muck. The face had been covered with a dark hood. When he removed the hood, he saw the face of his partner. He found a bullet wound at the back of his head, but no exit wound. Jack's expression was one of total shock. A warning had been issued that day. Matthews understood the impact of this warning fully. He was grateful he had taken the basic neuroanatomy class as a pre-med student. At one point he had though about becoming a neurologist. He had a great deal of interest in this field. He tried to keep up with the medical journals and any new Oliver Sacks books that came out. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and donned his "professional hit man mask". "The probable etiology of the seizures is due to the direct electrical charge to the frontal lobe," he explained. "Under certain conditions, a seizure can be induced." "Such as flashing lights." Cancerman inhaled a long drag from his cigarette. "Yes, sir. For people with epilepsy, they tend to be confused when they come out of a seizure," he continued. "Mulder does not technically have epilepsy, but he suffered a change in the electrical activity in the brain as a result of Dr. Goldstein's direct shock to the dura matter of his frontal lobe. His *memories* are a result of the Ketamine and it's affect on the occipital lobe of the brain, giving him the hallucinations or memories." He looked at the old man. "I believe that Mulder comes out of the seizure confused and in an hallucinatory state." "From what I understand these memories or hallucinations occurred when he was 12 years old. Why is he waking up as a 4 year old?" the old man inquired. Matthews had been curious about this himself. From his "Bureau" days he had heard all the "Spooky" Mulder rumors. At the time, he was hoping to get ahead in the Violent Crimes Division, so Matthews had done some investigating on Mulder, the Bureau's "golden boy". Working for Cancerman had given him an opportunity to learn more about Mulder, including the revised story of his sister's abduction. "I'm not a psychologist but I do have a theory," he offered. Good. Keep the voice flat and unemotional, he told himself. Cancerman blew out another long stream of smoke. "Let's hear it then." As badly as he wanted to, Matthews didn't cough as the smoke assaulted him. "I think his brain is trying to make a cogent connection to *you*, sir. He recalls you being at the summer house when he was 12 and before that when he was four. Although the adult Mulder might not remember this person as being you, his subconscious has somehow made the connection." "I see. Very good, Matthews. What about when he is more . . . himself, shall we say." Matthews watched the old man stub out the cigarette into the overflowing ash tray and reach over on the desk to retrieve his pack. He noticed his boss glancing at the monitor and looked at it himself. Mulder was sprawled across the youth bed, asleep. Matthews took in a breath, stating, "Apparently sleep allows his brain time to re-charge, figuratively speaking, and he then returns to his normal state. I expect that as he continues to heal from his last treatment session, these moments of confusion and hallucination will cease all together." His mouth was very dry and he hoped it was not detected by the old man. He didn't want to turn up in a dumpster, shot execution style somewhere. "You don't say. Well, in that case, 'Dr.' Matthews, I suggest you locate some Ketamine and any other apparatus required to duplicate the treatment. That will be all," he announced. "Sir, I don't think . . . " The old man hissed, "I don't care what you *think* Matthews. You're not here to think, you are here to follow my orders. If that's not clear to you certain arrangements can be made." Matthews felt his chest begin to pound. Shaken by this outburst, he had only seen vented toward others, he made sure his "professional hit man face" had not cracked. "That will be all," the old man said, dismissing him. With clenched jaws and a fantasy involving the gory and humiliating death of his boss, he left the office quickly. 9:30 AM "I assume everything is ready, Lewis," Cancerman asked the operative covering for Matthews. "Yes, sir," he replied. "Well then, I think it's time to pay a visit to our little friend. Open the door." Lewis did as instructed. Mulder was in a drug induced sleep. His breathing was slow and regular. The old man kicked a leg of the bed and heard Mulder's sharp intake of breath. Good, he was awake now. Mulder sat upright quickly. He brought his hands up to his head as if he were in pain. Cancerman threw a white tee shirt toward him. "Put that on," he ordered. "Why? Do you want to do play Chutes and Ladders?" Mulder asked, rubbing his eyes. "Is that what you want to do?" He was unsure which Fox Mulder this was before him. "No. But I'd be happy to go a few rounds with you alone, you disgusting bag of shit." Obviously, this was not the four year old Fox he had seen at the X-Files office and in the limousine. "I see no reason for violence, at this time, Agent Mulder," he said. "Really, I'm quite surprised. I'd thought you'd be more cooperative given your current situation." "What situation is that?" Mulder asked with a sigh. "Agent Mulder, can you tell me what time it is?" Mulder stared at the wall. "Or what day it is? How about if it's day or night? Really, I'd be interested in a response to any of those three." Mulder looked at his left wrist. He ordered his operatives to take Mulder's watch along with his shoes. Yes, he wanted information out of him, but he also wanted to humiliate Agent Mulder. He had an ego problem and it was about time someone took him down a peg or two. "No," Mulder snapped. "I can't answer the questions. Does that make you feel like more of a man?" The old man threw down his cigarette. "You better change your attitude with me Agent Mulder," he warned. "I'd hate to see anything truly bad happen to you or perhaps your partner." He enjoyed threatening Mulder. He saw Mulder leap off the bed and stand before him, fists clenched. "Leave me alone, leave *us* alone," Mulder said between clenched teeth. How sweet, the old man thought dryly. He reached into his pocket for the remote that controlled the overhead light. "I hate to think how upset your mother might be if you turned up somewhere in a coma: nothing more than a vegetable," he said, smiling slightly. "She would be so upset, losing both of her children." He breathed in the smoke, and blew the cancerous fumes out on Mulder's face. "Don't you think?" Suddenly he felt himself lifted off the chair by the lapels of his coat. How dare this insolent punk touch me! "That's it!" Mulder said. "I'm going to find a way to kill your sorry . . . " He felt the remote in his hand and touched the "on" button. The overhead light started to flicker immediately. "No!" Mulder yelled. He dropped him back on the chair. Mulder's hands flew up to his head and his face screwed up as if he were in terrible pain. Let the show begin, the old man thought. He turned the dial on the remote control to make the lights flicker more quickly. "What's happening?" Mulder yelled. "No!" He fell onto his knees on the floor. He buried his face in his hands. "Stop," he cried, weakly. "Please!" He watched Mulder fall over on his side on the floor. How interesting. He lit another cigarette and grinned as Mulder began convulsing. "Try not to give yourself brain damage Agent Mulder," he said, gleaming. End Part 8 of 13 "DEMON'S DON'T DIE" by Shell Brown, tombrown@tiac.net, Copyright 1997 SPOILERS: Demons, CLASSIFICATION: T,A RATING: PG-13 for language. KEYWORDS: Mulderangst, DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and Characters of Mulder, Scully, Cancerman, and Skinner, belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended. Part 9a of 13 North Springfield, VA Abandoned School 10:15 AM "You're a little spy," the man, standing in a cloud of cigarette smoke in the doorway, had said. That was the last thing he remembered. Oh, man, his head hurt. He was on the floor; a very hard floor. He grunted as he attempted to roll over on his side. He felt something tickle his face. He touched his forehead and slowly opened his eyes. Blood. He was bleeding. He looked around and saw a man sitting in a chair watching him. "Where am I?" he asked the older man, as he struggled to a sitting position. "What do you remember?" was the reply. "My parents were having a fight downstairs. My sister is afraid and upset." He groaned. Wow, his head hurt. "Am I in the hospital or something?" he asked. "Why, yes, you are. You were at the summer house and you fell and hit your head," replied the old man. "Don't you remember?" He shook his head. "Can I see my dad please?" requested the 12 year old Fox Mulder. "Yes, after the doctor is finished, I'll get your father," the stranger said. "Who are you?" He felt strange, confused or something. What's wrong with me, he wondered. "I'm a good friend of the family's, Fox, surely you remember that?" the man smoking the cigarette asked. Fox turned to get a good look at this man. "No. I don't remember seeing you before." The man dropped his cigarette and Fox was happy to get away from the disgusting smoke--but the old man fished out another. The man lit this new cigarette quickly and it dangled from the corner of his mouth while he said, "I have a son who is a very good friend of your mother and father. Perhaps I resemble him in some way? He has shorter hair and . . . " ". . . and it's brown. He wears jackets and smokes like my dad," replied Fox. "Yeah. He's over at the house now with my mom and sister, I guess. Why are you here?" he asked. Something wasn't right. He felt so confused and he was worried about his mom and sister. They both were crying when he . . . fell or something. The smoking man smiled, saying, "Oh, I'm the administrator of the hospital. When I found out it was you coming in I wanted to make sure everything went just fine. I thought I'd stay with you until the doctor has finished your examination. I'll bring you to your father then." Fox took in a breath and looked around the room. This sure didn't look like any hospital he had ever seen. His head was still bleeding and he was getting blood all over his hand and shirt. He looked around the room for a towel. The old man offered some rough paper towels. "Here you go," he said. "Put some pressure on that cut until the doctor comes in. That's right." The smoking man stared at him, making him feel self- conscious. "You're quite a remarkable boy, Fox. Why, you're almost a man!" Fox groaned. He hated when adults said stuff like that. "Oh, my how tall you are! You'll be a heart breaker!" and other dumb stuff. He just wanted to be left alone to study astronomy, play ball and read. "You mentioned your parents were fighting. Do you know what it was about?" Fox looked sharply at this man. Why should he tell him anything? His son can let him know. There was no way he was going to this stranger about what he had seen and heard tonight. "No," he stated firmly. "It's okay to tell me, you know. In fact, that's why I'm here. I need to know that your father didn't do this to you. If he was responsible, you'll have to go to a home for boys and girls that will be safer for you," he threatened. "Have you ever heard of 'Foster Care?'" Fear clenched his gut and his chest. "No," Fox spoke quickly. "No way my dad did this. It's like you said, I fell and hit my head." "But you don't remember, do you?" He brushed some ashes off his coat sleeve. Fox slowly shook his head and responded, "Umm, no, not exactly, but I know my dad wouldn't hurt me!" The old man leaned back in the chair and said, "You said your parents were fighting. Maybe they were fighting about you and that made your dad angry." Fox felt his jaw dropped. How could this man even *think* that could happen. "No!" he said emphatically. "They weren't fighting about me, they were talking about . . ." "What, young man?" he asked, leaning towards him. "You must tell me if I'm going to release you to the custody of your father." Fox shook his head. What a mess. He didn't want to be forced to live in a foster home. He decided to tell the administrator what he knew. "I couldn't catch all of it," he admitted. "Samantha, and I, were supposed to be getting ready for bed. My mom was crying real hard and saying something about 'not losing her baby'. Whatever that meant. I know it scared Samantha a lot." He stopped himself. Had he told too much, he wondered. He swallowed hard. "She was paying closer attention, maybe they were fighting about her. I don't know." "Has your father ever hit your sister?" asked the man. "Jeez, No!" Fox said. How could he think of such a cruel thing? His dad wasn't like that. The man dropped his cigarette on the floor and reached in his pocket. He brought out a new pack of cigarettes. "Well, I'm sorry if that offends you but I must do my job properly. Surely you understand that." Fox nodded, checking the towel to see if the bleeding had stopped. Not yet. He didn't want to get stitches; he hated that. "What else was happening at the house tonight?" the man asked. "It might help me to understand your situation if I knew what you heard and saw, Fox." Fox nervously shuffled his feet. "Oh, I don't know. Your son was there." Then he added, quietly, "I saw him hugging my mom." As soon as he said it, he wished he could take it back. He felt his face burn with anger and shame. "I imagine you didn't approve." "Well, it's just that she was all upset and it should have been my dad, you know, my dad there, doing that," he blurted. Oh, jeez! He didn't want to let on how angry he was at this man's son. "My son has known your parents for quite a long time." The administrator continued, "He knew them even before you were born, Fox. There's nothing wrong with one friend comforting another, is there?" "I don't know about junk like that," Fox said, angrily. He wasn't stupid. He knew what the administrator was implying. He was definitely no expert, but he knew about girls and stuff. He didn't care if this guy's son knew his mom before she met dad. That was none of his business. End Part 9a-13 "DEMON'S DON'T DIE" by Shell Brown, tombrown@tiac.net, Copyright 1997 SPOILERS: Demons, CLASSIFICATION: T,A RATING: PG-13 for language. KEYWORDS: Mulderangst, DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and Characters of Mulder, Scully, Cancerman, and Skinner, belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended. Part 9b-13 Matthews tapped on the door. "Come in," he heard the old man say. He entered the room carrying the medical bag. Mulder was sitting on the floor holding a wad of bloodied paper towels to his temple. "Oh, Dr. Matthews, there you are," the old man said. "As you see, young Fox Mulder hit his head here and has been bleeding for a few minutes. I'm sure it's nothing too serious. Did you know this was Bill Mulder's boy?" he asked. Matthews replied, "No, sir, I didn't." He looked at Fox. "Why don't you have a seat here on the bed, Fox, so I can examine you better." He removed the bunched-up paper towels to reveal a deep cut at his temple. "Yes," the old man said, waving his cigarette around, "he's all of 12 years now." Matthews nodded. "Do you remember the last time you had your tetanus shot, Fox?" he asked. "Umm, not really," stammered the boy. "I can't think real straight right now. I guess I really whacked my head, huh?" He winced. "Well, you don't need stitches. It *is* a deep cut and I'll have to put on a special bandage that will help close the wound. You can handle that, right?" He took out some supplies from the medical bag, and began cleaning the cut with an alcohol wipe. "Yeah," the boy said, weakly. "My dad's outside, you can ask him about when I got my shots. He'll know." The old man clapped his hands and said, "An excellent idea. Dr. Matthews, when you have finished there, I'll accompany you to Mr. Mulder. After you fill him in on his son's condition, he can take young Fox home." "I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to be honest with me," said Matthews. "Yeah, sure. What?" said the boy, calmly. "Do you have a bad headache right now?" "Yeah, I guess, a little," Fox answered, shyly. "Okay," he said. "I want you to grab my index fingers here and squeeze as hard as possible. Go ahead." There was no significant weakness in his grip. "Good, now I'm going to hold up my finger and I want you to watch it and follow it with your eyes. Are you ready?" he asked. "Yeah," Fox replied. The boy stared at the finger watching it go all the way to the right and then . . . "No, don't_move_your_head, just your eyes following my finger," Matthews explained. "Let's try again." They repeated the test. Matthews noted Fox's eyes were slightly sluggish. Hmm, that's not a good sign, Matthews thought. Nodding, he said, "Okay, let's do one more thing. Stand up," he instructed. "That's right, put your arms straight out to the sides. I'm going to try and push your arms down and I want you to stop me." He pushed down and felt some give on the boy's right side. "Okay. This time I'm going to push up on your arms and I want you to keep them steady." Again, his right arm was weaker. "Okay, very good. Have a seat and I'll be back after I speak with your father." He tried to sound reassuring. He left with the Cancerman following him. "What was all that about Matthews?" Cancerman sounded angry. "I needed to do a quick neuro check," Matthews explained. "I think he has some damage on the left side of his brain, but I can't be sure of that. It could be serious, sir, potentially life threatening. He needs to see a specialist." "What bearing does this have on what I intend to do here?" the old man hissed. "None, sir." He felt his voice, as well as his body, snap into attention. "Fine!" the old man yelled. "You would do well to remember your position, Matthews." "Yes, sir," Matthews responded. "Do you have the equipment you require?" asked the old man as he put a fresh cigarette in his mouth. "Yes, sir," he said. He really despised this man. "Good, yes, very good. I think it's time for Agent Mulder to have another treatment. His memories are returning, and I need to know exactly how much he remembers." "He will most likely seize instantly," Matthews informed. "I have Velcro restraints I can use to quickly secure him to the bed frame. After the initial seizure, I don't know what to expect." He added, "He'll definitely need some fluids and something to eat if he can handle it." The old man waved his hand, saying, "Fine. Agent Mulder's needs will be taken care of as long as he is providing me with the information I want. Give him the treatment then stay with him. Send someone for me the moment he becomes lucid." He turned sharply, flicking his cigarette off to the side. Matthews crossed the hall to stomp on the disgusting cigarette. It was just as well he probably wouldn't live long enough to know the effects of all the second hand smoke from this pompous ass. "Okay," Matthews said, entering the room. He saw Fox sitting on the bed. "Your dad said it's been a while since your last tetanus booster, so I'll have to give you a shot." He saw Fox shuffling his feet. The kid probably hated shots. He brought out the goggles and the Walkman. The boy's eyes widened. "Here, this is something to keep your mind busy while I give you the shot." "What is that?" Fox asked. His voice was filled with curiosity. Matthews said, "I think you'll find this interesting. The goggles play a kind of movie while this plays music." "Wow!" Fox said, touching the plastic ear pieces of the small headphones. "This is boss!" Matthews smiled inwardly. "Boss". He hadn't heard that used as an adjective for a long time. "It's a lot of fun. I think you'll enjoy it." He put the goggles over the boy's eyes and adjusted them so that they sat correctly on the bridge of his nose. Then he pulled out the Ketamine and a syringe. "When can you turn it on?" Fox asked. "If you want, I can start the music now," he offered. "Then after I give you the shot, I'll turn on the pictures." "Okay," said the boy. Matthews saw his hands turn into tight fists. The kid was nervous. "Let me help you lie down on the bed," he guided the 6'1" body on the youth bed. "At first you'll hear a whooshing noise and then it will change to music," Matthews lied. He found the play button on the Walkman. "I'm turning it on now," he warned. He saw the boy jump. He must have been startled. He lifted an ear piece. "Too loud?" he asked. "No, it's fine. It's a little weird but that's okay," said the boy. Matthews gently rolled him over to the side and pulled down the top of his pants and underwear and injected the muscle with the veterinary drug. "Oh, man, that burns," Fox said as he was rolled onto his back. He reached up and straightened the ear pieces. Matthews watched him carefully. He heard the boy moan. "Dr. Matth . . . Doc . . . I feel weird," he said. Matthews put one of his hands on Fox's shoulder. "Try to relax," he said. "Shots can make people feel strange, sometimes." He watched the boy nod slowly. Matthews waited and watched, looking for a sign that he was losing consciousness. In a few minutes, he saw Mulder's body relax completely. Matthews wrapped one Velcro strap around the head rail on the bed and gently raised Mulder's left hand to fit into the restraint. He realized he should have moved the bed from against the wall so he could keep both of Mulder's hands down; it would have been more comfortable. He took another strap and tied it around the side of the bed and put Mulder's right hand into the material, thus securing both hands. Matthews finished by strapping down each leg onto the bed frame. He took the pillow from under Mulder's head and placed it on Mulder's side, forcing him to tilt to the side a bit. If Mulder choked, he wanted to be ready to turn him on his side in order to clear his airway. He double checked his work, then turned on the goggles and saw the intermittent flashing red lights. Matthews watched him carefully in case Mulder began to choke. Mulder's breathing became rapid. Within seconds he began to seize. It was definitely a clonic-tonic seizure. "Breathe," he reminded Mulder, as the convulsions continued. After a few minutes, Mulder's body had steadied and his breathing became more regular. Matthews took off the goggles and the headset. Mulder was drenched in sweat, blinking hard and looking around. "Do you know where you are?" Matthews asked. "No, no, I don't know," he said. "I'm tired. I'm so tired. Let me sleep. I need to sleep," he pleaded, closing his eyes. Matthews wiped the sweat off of Mulder's face. This wasn't right. He shook his head. Damn it! This wasn't right! He cursed the old man for ordering him to perform such a cruel task. End Part 9b of 13 "DEMON'S DON'T DIE" by Shell Brown, tombrown@tiac.net, Copyright 1997 SPOILERS: Demons, CLASSIFICATION: T,A RATING: PG-13 for language. KEYWORDS: Mulderangst, DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and Characters of Mulder, Scully, Cancerman, and Skinner, belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended. Part 10 of 13 2:15 PM He was dreaming. It was the day of his High School graduation. Fox and his classmates were sitting on the bleachers next to the track. They were to practice walking into the small stadium and sitting in the correct seats. The small school band was having a hard time getting the music right. The frenzied band teacher told all of the seniors to sit while the band practiced. "What a waste of time," Fox complained to his current girlfriend, Sue. She had long curly blonde hair. She was okay, a bit flighty, but she served a purpose. He could always go over to her house when his folks started fighting again. They had been divorced for almost four years, but they "shared custody" of him. He hated that, too. He wasn't a piece of property, for crying out loud. That's how they made him feel. He lived with mom during the week, and then with dad on the weekends. Whenever they saw each other they fought. Fox was sick of it. If they would just buy him a car then . . . "Fox, are you listening to me?" whined Sue. He did a mental rewind of the tape recorder in his brain. "Yeah. You said that Jimmy and Cheryl couldn't come to your party tonight." Having an eidetic memory definitely came in handy; but it could also be a curse. He was the only 16 year old to be graduating from his class. His classmates hated him until his teachers agreed to throw out all of his test scores before grading tests on the bell curve. He didn't ask to be smart or have a photographic memory. His body ached just thinking about the times he got beaten up after school by the older kids. Oxford was going to be great. "Fox, you're not paying attention to me at all!" Sue said, pouting. "Yes_I_am," he insisted. He tried to reassure her. "Look, don't worry about tonight. Your party is going to be the best on the Vineyard." He kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry. You were paying attention," she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. "Do you think you're going to get a car for graduation?" He laughed. "Yeah, right. I'm leaving for England in a few weeks. Why would they get me a car now?" She whimpered, saying, "I don't want you to leave. Why did you pick a school so far away?" He sat up straight, forcing Sue off his shoulder. "I chose Oxford *because* it was far away," he explained. She crossed her arms and began pouting again. "You're going to forget all about me. I can't compete with the girls in England; so proper and smart. Will you write to me?" He put his arm around her again saying, "Of course I'll write to you." He whispered, in her ear, "Hey. How are we going to find time alone tonight?" Blushing, she said, "Well, my mom and dad agreed to be out of the house until midnight. So, I thought we could just sneak into my bedroom and, well, you know." He smiled and whispered, "No. Tell me what's going to happen. Tell me all the details, everything that you want." Her face got bright red. It was going to be their first time. He was fairly sure it would be her first time. He knew what the other girls were saying about him in school. Something about "school not being the only area he was clever in". He felt his face flush. People said a lot of things about him. "I'll tell you tonight," she giggled. He grinned and held her closer in his arm. He looked behind them and saw an older man in a dark suit, smoking a cigarette. I know this man, he thought. How do I know this man? The older man's eyes met his own. Then he did something odd. He pointed toward the sky and winked. Fox looked up into the sky, and felt a sharp pain in his eyes. Mulder awoke to the same small room. Looking around, he saw his bag that held a couple changes of clothes and his shaving kit on the table. How did that get there? He continued to survey the room and saw that a thin man in a dark suit was watching him. Another armed guard, that's just great, thought Mulder. "Are you awake?" his guard asked, brusquely. "Yeah, I'm awake," he managed to croak. His throat and mouth were dry. "Look, I'm too tired to make trouble, so what do you say we lose these things?" he tugged on the restraints. The man only nodded and then left the room. Mulder put his head back on the wet pillow. What's going on? A few minutes later, Evander Holyfield in a black suit came in, carrying a small stack of plastic cups. This guy was huge! "How are you feeling?" he asked Mulder. His mouth was so dry. He tried to get some saliva going in his mouth so he could talk. "It's happening again, isn't it?" Mulder said. "I'm having flashbacks. That's why I'm here." The man put the cups down on the table and came over to his bedside. Mulder knew how these men operated and he readied himself for a punch. He was shocked when he felt the man gently lift his wrist to take his pulse. "Holyfield" said, "I'm going to take off the wrist restraints so you can sit up. You need some fluids and I have apple juice for you. If you fight me, or make any attempts to do *anything* but drink this juice, I'll knock you out." Mulder nodded his head and opened his hands, indicating he wouldn't put up a fight. He'd be nuts to piss this guy off. Holyfield was true to his word and took off the wrist restraints. Mulder slowly got up, noting the pounding in his head, and hoped the room would stop spinning soon. He was still in the same room he had woken up to before. When was that? Yesterday? A few hours ago? "Take your time with this and there's more if you want it," Holyfield said, handing the cup to Mulder. He then sat on the chair near the bed. "Thanks," said Mulder. The juice tasted good. He handed the cup back and asked for a refill. After he drained the second cup he realized a few things: he was starving, he really needed a shower, and he'd been given Ketamine recently. He was sure of the latter because of the side effects he was feeling. He also felt some tenderness in his backside and figured it was from an injection. He was here as a guest of Cancerman, and something was going on. "What are the chances of a shower and something to eat?" he asked Holyfield. "Good, as long as you don't pull any stunts." Mulder shook his head. "I'm not in any shape to pull any 'stunts'." He looked up at the disk on the ceiling. "I think we're all aware of that," he said loudly. His leg restraints were taken off and he slowly got up, trying to work out the kinks in his back and the stiffness in his legs. Unsteady on his feet, he took a few steps towards his bag and picked it up. "No," said Holyfield. "Just take what you need." Mulder ran his hand across his jaw and realized he had a few days of growth to shave off. He pulled out a fresh pair of jeans, gray knit boxers and a black tee- shirt. He fished around the bottom of the bag and brought out his shaving kit. "Let me see that," the big man demanded. Mulder handed the shaving kit to him. Holyfield opened it up and pulled out all of the items: a disposable razor, shaving cream, a comb, deodorant and hair gel. He took out the razor and zipped the kit back up. "Here," he said, handing it back. "The door will be open when you use the razor." Mulder muttered, "Whatever." Maybe the guy got off watching men shave. He wasn't going to argue. The door to his room was opened, followed by the bathroom door across the hall. This door was shut and locked promptly after he entered the room. "He's awake," Cancerman said to Matthews as he approached him from the hall. Matthews nodded. "Mulder's showering." "Yes, I heard." He brought out a pack of cigarettes and quickly found one to light up. "Why do you want to watch him shave?" he asked. Matthews said, "Because, sir, if he starts to have another seizure I want to take that razor out of his hand." "I see. How many seizures has he had since you gave him the Ketamine injection?" He inhaled the acrid smoke. "Three." "Three, then. Has he emerged as himself each time?" "Yes," Matthews responded. "I see. Do you have an explanation or theory about that?" "Not at this time, sir," Matthews said. "I'll be watching from my office. I'll be back for an experiment shortly," he informed Matthews. "Understood, sir." He looked at his operative for a brief moment. Matthews has gone soft on Mulder. Damn it! Another operative who is nothing but an insolent hunk of cowardice, he thought angrily. Matthews will need to be dealt with very soon. Indeed, the moment he's no longer useful, he will be taken out. End Part 10 of 13 "DEMON'S DON'T DIE" by Shell Brown, tombrown@tiac.net, Copyright 1997 SPOILERS: Demons, CLASSIFICATION: T,A RATING: PG-13 for language. KEYWORDS: Mulderangst, DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and Characters of Mulder, Scully, Cancerman, and Skinner, belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended. Part 11 of 13 3:00 PM Matthews heard a knock on the bathroom door. He opened the door and handed Mulder his razor. Matthews stood in the door way and watched Mulder go through the shaving routine. When he had finished, Matthews escorted him across the hall to his room. He watched as Mulder put his dirty clothes in his bag. Without warning, the ceiling light flashed on. He felt his jaws clench. The strobe lights started to flash. "Ah," Mulder yelled. Clutching his head with his hands, he fell to his knees. Matthews watched this angrily. Who was the old man testing, him or Mulder? He saw Mulder go down and quickly moved him away from the table. He tossed the chair out the door and out of Mulder's way. Grabbing a pillow off the bed, Matthews placed it under Mulder's head and tilted his head back, to make sure his airway was clear. He heard choking sounds and quickly turned him onto his left side, allowing the saliva to drain out. A few minutes later, Mulder's body began to quiet. The strobe light had stopped completely. Matthews took the towel Mulder had been using, and wiped the sweat off of Mulder's face. He had bitten through his lip and it was bleeding. Matthews held the towel to the unconscious man's lip while taking his pulse. It was weak and rapid. His hands were cold and clammy and he looked pale. Mulder was going into shock. If the old man was going to keep this up, Mulder would die of a heart attack before he could get any more "information" out of him. As gently as possible, he lifted Mulder up and placed him on the bed. Mulder grunted and began to shiver. "Mulder, you okay?" Matthews asked. "I d . . . d . . . don't know." He put a blanket on Mulder and checked his lip. The bleeding had almost stopped. "I had an . . . an . . . another seizure," he stammered. "It hap . . . happened again." "It's okay, man. Tell me how old you are." He tucked the blanket underneath Mulder's shaking body. "Th . . . thirty five, why?" Mulder looked at him oddly. The door opened and they both watched the man drop his cigarette in the doorway as he blew the gray smoke into the room. He brought out a new one and lit it before lifting the overturned chair and placing it upright near the bed. "Matthews, you'll excuse us for a moment," he ordered. Mulder wanted to get up but couldn't. He couldn't stop shaking. At least he knew the big man's name now. Matthews left the room as ordered. "How are you feeling?" Cancerman asked. "How d . . . do . . . you think I'm f. . . feeling you miserable piece of shit. You shot me up with K . . . K . . . Ketamine again, didn't you? What do you want from me?" he asked, staring at his nemesis. "If you're going to kill me, get it over with. I'm t . . . tired of your games!" The old man dropped his current smoke, leaving it to smolder on the floor as he got a new one to light up. "If I wanted you dead, you would be by now," he said. Mulder rolled onto his side and then pushed himself up so he was sitting somewhat upright. He was tired. "Then what do you want?" He was exhausted and he wasn't really sure he cared anymore. "I want to know what you've been remembering," Cancerman demanded. "Is that so much to ask?" Mulder brought his hands to his face and began rubbing his sore eyes. "You tell me," he challenged. "I know you've been remembering a certain time in your childhood. A certain disturbing event." "Yeah," Mulder said. "M . . . my high school graduation. It was a waste of time, kind of like now." He was dizzy. He tried to shake it off but he couldn't lose it. There was no way he would let this walking black lung poster child know how impaired he felt at the moment. Cancerman reprimanded him. "Tsk-tsk, Agent Mulder. Such a lie is beneath us both. I know you've been remembering the night your sister was taken. If you want to leave here all you have to do is tell me what it is you have been remembering," he said. Mulder shook his head. "I need some w . . . water." He needed time to compose himself. Cancerman leaned back on the chair and knocked on the door. Matthews opened the door, his eyes flashing to Mulder. "Sir?" "Bring him some water," Cancerman ordered. "Yes, sir," Matthews replied, closing the door behind him. Mulder felt his right shoulder spasm. If Cancerman doesn't kill me the drugs will, he thought. A third dose of Ketamine . . . how many "treatments" did Amy Cassandra receive before she shot herself and her husband? He needed to rest just for a minute. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of second hand smoke. Coughing it out made his head pounded even more. Matthews came in with a pitcher of water and more plastic cups. He poured the water into a cup and handed it to Mulder. Mulder accepted the cup and drank it down quickly. It tasted bitter. His eyes flashed to Matthews and saw him nod, slightly. He wasn't sure, but he thought Matthews was trying to help him somehow. There definitely was something in the water. I hope he knows what he's doing, Mulder thought. "You may leave us now," the old man informed Matthews. His eyes squinted as he drew in another lung full of smoke. "Now, Agent Mulder, where were we . . . ah, yes, you were about to tell me about the night your sister was taken," he said, through a smoky haze. God, I'm tired, Mulder thought. "No, you tell me something first." "And what is that, Agent Mulder?" he dropped his cigarette and lit a new one. Mulder glared at him in disgust. "I want you to tell me who_is_my_father," he demanded. A look of amusement crossed Cancerman's face. "Who do you think is your father?" he asked, smiling. "Stop the circular questioning crap and answer the question," Mulder yelled. "Answer the question!" Mulder felt a wave of dizziness crash through his body. He was getting weaker. He couldn't pass out, not yet. He needed to know. He watched Cancerman roll the cigarette back and forth between his fingers. "I imagine you've already asked your mother. I guess she wasn't forthcoming. You're mother was always a formidable woman. Yes, a remarkable woman some might say." He was grinning. "Answer the question or get out," Mulder spat. "Tell me what you remember about the night your sister was taken and I will consider it," he spat, with the same venom as his captive. Mulder was feeling dizzy. He shook his head and lay down on the bed. "Get out," he stated flatly. He was too tired to play these games. Sighing, he covered his eyes with his arm. "Get up!" Cancerman ordered. "You were a spoiled brat as a child and you still are, you little shit! How dare you be smug when you are so pathetic! Chasing ghosts and little green men on this insane quest to find your precious sister," he yelled. "Whatever," Mulder murmured. He was so tired of all of this: the consortium, the project, the M.I.B., the danger to Scully. But most of all he was tired of this disgusting excuse for a man. He allowed himself to give in to the exhaustion. Cancerman stood up and stared at the young man on the bed. He reached inside his coat pocket and found the remote control to the strobe lights. Taking it out of his pocket, he directed the lights to go on and to flash quickly. He watched the form on the bed intensely. There was no movement. He should be having one of those damn seizures! "Matthews!" he yelled. He slowly turned down the flashing lights until they were off completely. He kicked the bed and heard a low grunt from Mulder. "Yes, sir," Matthews said, as he entered the room. "What did you do to him?" he yelled. Matthews shook his head. "Nothing, sir." "He should have had one of those damn seizures and he didn't. Tell me what you did to him!" Spittle flew as he yelled. "I didn't do anything sir. May I examine him?" he asked. "I might be able to figure out what's going on." Cancerman waved his hand. "Yes, do it!" Matthews brought Mulder's arm down and laid it across his chest. He checked his pupils and then his pulse. "He's unconscious, sir," he reported. Camcerman was furious! "What? Unconscious! How can that be? "We were having a conversation. He can't be unconscious, you moron." Matthews straightened. "Sir, I think the Ketamine was a mistake. I think his neurological system has been compromised and it has forced his body to respond by shutting down." Cancerman pointed a yellow finger at him. "You *think*? I'm not interested in what you *think*. You wake him up. Give him something to wake him up. Do it now!" he ordered. He felt himself beginning to shake with anger. "There are no supplies to do what you want, sir. Besides, Mulder needs the rest." Matthews said. "How much *rest* will he require?" he asked. Matthews shrugged. "I have no way to determine that, sir." He dropped his cigarette and stomped on it violently. "Damn it!" he yelled. The anger continued to build inside and he needed to release it. He kicked over the chair in a fury. "Damn it!" he yelled again. He kicked the chair again and watched it fly across the hall hitting the bathroom door. He began to pace the length of the room and then stopped himself. He couldn't let an operative see him distressed. Calmly, he said, "Fine. I'll allow Mulder to rest, but only until you get whatever it is you need to wake him up. Make it quick Matthews," he ordered. "Yes, sir," Matthews answered. The door opened again, admitting Thompson. He was all brawn and no brain, nowhere near as useful as Matthews, even if he had decided to come in just at the right moment this time. "Watch him," he ordered, pointing to Mulder. "Come get me if he wakes up." He grabbed Thompson's arm. "I want to be notified immediately. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir," Thompson replied. "You!" He pointed at Matthews. "Don't waste time. Go!" "Yes, sir." Matthews quickly left the room. End Part 11 of 13 "DEMON'S DON'T DIE" by Shell Brown, tombrown@tiac.net, Copyright 1997 SPOILERS: Demons, CLASSIFICATION: T,A RATING: PG-13 for language. KEYWORDS: Mulderangst, DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and Characters of Mulder, Scully, Cancerman, and Skinner, belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended. Part 12 of 13 FBI Headquarters 5:20 PM Scully ran up the stairs and charged into Skinner's office. "What have you got, Agent Scully?" Skinner asked. "I've got an address, sir," she said. She held out the piece of paper with the address written on it. "The man said Mulder was being held here. He said that Cancerman was doing 'experiments' on Mulder." Skinner nodded. "Get your team together. We leave when you're ready." "Yes, sir," Scully said with enthusiasm. North Springfield Abandoned School 6:00 PM Matthews came back with a vial of Procaine. He didn't want to use it on Mulder, he preferred the sleeping man wake up naturally. Touching his inside coat pocket, Matthews felt the syringe filled with Normal Saline solution. Good, everything was set. He dropped the Procaine into the black medical bag and proceeded to the office. "Sir?" he inquired, as he slowly opened the office door. He saw the back of Cancerman's head. "Did you take care of everything?" the old man asked. "Yes, sir." "Go wake him up." "Yes, sir," he answered. Mulder was curled around the pillow. Matthews checked his pulse and it was a bit slower than before. The Halcion he had put in the water was a very effective sedative. Matthews pulled out a packaged syringe from his breast pocket, with the Saline filled syringe hidden behind it. He dropped this syringe in the bag as he picked up the vial of Procaine. As he pulled the Procaine into the empty syringe, he used the bulk of his body to block the camera's view. He reached in the bag and dropped the drug-filled syringe and picked up the one with Saline solution along with an alcohol wipe. He swabbed down Mulder's upper arm and gave him the injection of Saline solution. He did it! He pulled it off! He shook Mulder, pretending to wake him. He didn't stir. Matthews heard the sound of footsteps come down the hallway. "Is he awake?" the old man asked, tossing his cigarette aside. "Not yet, sir." Matthews shook Mulder again, a little more aggressively. No reaction, not even a grunt. "What's the problem?" Cancerman seemed anxious. Matthews shook his head. "Coma, sir." "What? You must be joking!" the old man said angrily. "That's the only explanation I have at this time," Matthews answered calmly. He despised this pathetic old man. How in the hell could he have feared such a despicable person? Thompson rushed into the room, announcing, "We've got company, sir. I suggest we take the back exit now." Cancerman glared at Matthews. Matthews stared him down. He didn't feel fear from this contemptible man anymore. "Bring the car around. Matthews, leave him," the old man ordered. The three men hurried toward the basement exit of the school. North Springfield, VA Outside Abandoned School 7:15 PM The team was outside the old school. It had been abandoned for only 3 years, but the graffiti and trash made it look like it had been abandoned much earlier. "Agent Scully, the retrieval team is ready and waiting for your orders," said Skinner Scully nodded. "Let's go to work people," she said, into her headset. They entered the buildings, weapons drawn. Scully nodded to three of the team members and they took the stairs to the lower level. She then nodded to the two remaining team members and tipped her chin towards the upper level. They followed her up the stairwell. As each door was opened, one member would go low the other high. Together they very effectively swept the room, looking for any sign of Agent Mulder or his captors. They repeated this procedure for each room they entered. "We have Mulder," a voice said into the headset. "Send for EMTs now!" "What's your position?" Scully asked quickly. "First floor. We're at the end of the hall, on the left," the agent replied. "I'm on my way," she answered. She looked at her team and instructed, "Continue to sweep this floor for the kidnappers. They could still be here, so be careful." "Yes, sir," they responded in unison. Scully ran down the stairs and then down to the end of the hall. "All clear, Agent Scully," the team member informed her. "Thank you," she said. "Where is Mulder?" She saw him on a small bed, partially wrapped in a blanket. There was an empty syringe laying next to him. "I have him, sir. I need those EMTs here STAT," she demanded. Scully took off her helmet and bulky kevlar vest. She checked Mulder's pulse and respiration. He seemed okay. She saw a black medical bag and emptied it's contents out onto the table. She picked up the various vials: Halcion, Ketamine, Procaine, Morphine and a bottle of Halcion tablets. What kind of drug cocktails were they giving him? Skinner was standing in the doorway. "Agent Scully, the EMTs are on their way. What have you got?" She shook her head as she continued to study the labels on the vials. "I'm not sure, sir," she said. Mulder sighed. "I'm trying to sleep," he mumbled. Scully grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him harshly. "Mulder, it's me," she said. "I need you to wake up now, okay?" She shook him again, saying, "Come on, it's time to wake up." He slowly opened his eyes. "Scully?" he whispered. "He's awake?" Skinner asked. Scully smiled. "Yes, sir, I think everything is . . . " The strobe lights above began to flicker. "No!" yelled Mulder. His hands went up to his face, trying to protect his eyes from the pain the light caused. Mulder began to convulse. "Help me!" Scully said to Skinner. End Part 12a-13 "DEMON'S DON'T DIE" by Shell Brown, tombrown@tiac.net, Copyright 1997 SPOILERS: Demons, CLASSIFICATION: T,A RATING: PG-13 for language. KEYWORDS: Mulderangst, DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and Characters of Mulder, Scully, Cancerman, and Skinner, belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended. Part 12b-13 He rushed over to the bed. " Agent Scully, what do you want me to do? I've seen this before in Vietnam. Just tell me what you want me to do." "Hold his legs down," she ordered. "I don't want him to hurt himself." "Turn that damn light off!" Skinner shouted. Someone found the outside controls and turned it off. Mulder continued to convulse. "I turned on that strobe light, Scully," Skinner admitted. "I thought it was the overhead lights. I'm sorry." "You didn't know, sir," she said, straining to keep Mulder's hands from hitting her. She noticed the butterfly bandage on his forehead. What happened here? "Shh," she whispered as Mulder's body finally began to relax. "Shh, it's okay." Skinner took his hands off Mulder's legs. "Where? Where's my dad?" Mulder asked. Scully looked up at Skinner and noticed his look of alarm. "What did you say?" she asked Mulder. "Can you sit up?" He nodded and let her assist him to an almost upright position. "Please t . . . tell my dad, I want to go home now," he pleaded. "Agent Mulder, your father . . . " Skinner began. "No!" Scully interrupted her boss. "Don't say anymore." "I wanna go home now. Tell my daddy to come get me," Fox said, bringing his knees up to his chin. Scully saw that he was shivering. "Shh, it's all right," she said soothingly. "You're going to be just fine," she reassured him. "Where's Mr. Cole? He said he was taking me to my dad." "Who's Mr. Cole?" Scully asked gently. His lower lip began to quiver. He said in a small voice, "He knows my momma and he smokes like my daddy so he's stinky. He said he'd take me home." He leaned into Scully's shoulder and began to cry. "Take me home." Scully rubbed his back and made soothing sounds. The EMTs were about to rush into the room when Scully announced, "Everyone out, now!" Her eyes flashed to Skinner. "Except for you, sir." "Whatever you say, Agent Scully," Skinner said. He handed her one of the rough paper towels from the table. She took it and gave it to Mulder. "Here you go," she said. When he didn't take it, she dried his tears for him and let him blow his nose. "I don't know you," he said to her. He looked at Skinner. "I don't know you either. Momma says not to talk to strangers." His face tightened up. "I'm lost." He looked at Scully. "Help me." "Of course, Fox, I'm here to help you. Can you tell me what happened before I got here?" she asked. Fox leaned on Scully's shoulder, picked up the gold cross from her neck and held it for a moment. He rambled, "I remember I was lost before and I called the operator like my momma taught me to do and I asked the lady to find my dad but Mr. Cole came instead. He said he'd take me to my dad and then we went in his big car and he said we were almost home and now I'm here and I'm tired and I want to go home now." He took in a shaky breath. Scully let out the breath she was holding. "How old are you, Fox?" she asked. He held up four fingers. She looked up at Skinner and shook her head. "Fox, what would you think about taking a very special ride?" He rubbed his nose on his sleeve, "What kinda ride?" he asked. "Do you know what an ambulance is?" she asked. He nodded. "It's like a fire truck but for sick people. I don't wanna to go on an amboolenz ride, I wanna to go home not to a hospital. Please take me home. You said I could go home!" He began to cry and tucked himself tight into a fetal position and fell back into the bed. Facing away from Scully, he said, "I wanna go home. All my books are home." "Scully, look behind you," said Skinner. "What?" She turned and saw the basket of toys and books. She pulled out a "Paddington the Bear" book and handed it to Mulder. "Here, will this help?" she asked gently. He lifted his head and took the bright yellow book eagerly into his arms. Hugging the book, he turned facing the wall. Scully sat on the bed and rubbed his back in a slow circular motion. She quieted her nieces and nephews with this technique on many nights of baby-sitting duty. Skinner knelt next to her. "Should we sedate him?" he asked. "I think that would be best," she whispered. "Do you know what's happening?" he asked. "I'd really appreciate some kind of explanation." She shook her head, saying, "It's hard to know without getting a tox screen from the hospital. My guess is he's in an hallucinatory state, brought on by his recent treatments with Dr. Goldstein and whatever drugs they gave him here." Skinner nodded. "What do you need?" She turned away from her partner and whispered, "Get an EMT to give me 15 mg of diazapam. I'll give it to him IM and we'll get him to the hospital." He nodded and left the room to talk with the EMTs. "Fox?" she whispered. He didn't stir, "Fox, are you awake?" She stood up and bent over him to see his face. He had cried himself to sleep. "Sir, get the gurney in here now. He's fallen asleep," she said quietly. "Let's try to get him into the ambulance without adding to the drugs already in his system." "Agreed," Skinner replied. They managed to get Mulder onto the gurney and strap him in without waking him. The book dropped with a "thwack!" when the gurney was lifted. "What?" Mulder tried to sit up and look around. "Everything's going to be okay," Scully said, as she patted his hand. "Scully? Where am I?" he asked. Scully's eyes brightened. "Mulder? How do you feel?" she said, taking his hand. He stammered, "I . . . um . . . don't know, I . . ." he looked around the room and saw Skinner. "It was Cancerman. He held me captive at Sesame Street," he said. "Do you know if you were drugged?" She tried not to lead him. He closed his eyes. "Yeah, Ketamine, maybe something else." He looked into her clear blue eyes. "I feel . . . I don't know . . . Scully." "It's okay, Mulder. We'll figure this out in the hospital," she said, offering a smile. He nodded and let himself be taken away. "Sir!" an agent yelled from down the hall. "What is it?" Skinner asked, as he watched Mulder being carried out of the abandoned building. "We found a body in the basement. Shot execution style, sir," the agent informed him. Skinner frowned. "Show me," he said. End Part 12b of 13 "DEMON'S DON'T DIE" by Shell Brown, tombrown@tiac.net, Copyright 1997 SPOILERS: Demons, CLASSIFICATION: T,A RATING: PG-13 for language. KEYWORDS: Mulderangst, DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and Characters of Mulder, Scully, Cancerman, and Skinner, belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. No copyright infringement intended. Part 13 of 13 April 21 George Washington University Hospital 3:00 PM Scully found Mulder asleep in his room with the TV set on the Cartoon network. If she didn't know Mulder so well, she might have worried he had regressed. But she did know him and this was quintessential Mulder. He was still hooked up to the EEG and ECG. Considering what he had been through, this was the wisest course of action. He needed to be monitored carefully before he would be released from the hospital this time. She would insist on it. She opened the chart she had picked up from the nurses station. Mulder was on his last IV of D5W and Flumazemil. He had been off seizure meds for 48 hours and there was no indication of a seizure in the last 30 hours. He had eaten most of his breakfast. Good, he was getting his appetite back. No notations regarding hallucinations or Mulder waking up thinking he was a different age. That's encouraging, she thought. He hadn't really talked about what happened to him yet and she knew better than to force him. When he was ready, he would tell her what had happened. She found the remote and turned off the TV. Mulder stirred. "Hey, I was watching that." "Mulder, are you awake?" she asked. "Oh, Scully. Hi. Yeah, I'm awake," he said, blinking. She smiled. "Hi, yourself." He turned to face her. "I was dreaming. It was the day of my high school graduation. Thank God disco is dead," he joked. Still smiling, she said, "I can't argue with you there. How are you feeling Mulder?" He shrugged. "More myself, I guess." "Good, I guess," she teased. She handed him a bottle of orange juice. "Sorry, no iced tea in the vending machine." A moment passed and she noticed that he was staring at the bottle. "What is it?" she asked. "They, umm . . . " he licked his lips, and closed his eyes in concentration. "I think I had this in the limo." He opened his eyes. "I . . . I can't remember," he muttered, shaking his head. "It's okay, the memory will come when you're ready," she said softly. He grinned. "When did you have time to get a psychology degree, Scully? Hey, maybe Skinner will let me see you instead of one of the Bureau shrinks." "Ha-ha, Mulder." She pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down. "This time you will do whatever you are told. Understood, mister?" He raised a hand to his head and gave her a weak salute. "Aye-Aye sir." She smiled at the Naval inference. "I brought you something." "Oh?" He sat up a little straighter. She got up from the chair and brought out a wrapped rectangular box that was sitting at the bottom of his hospital bed. She handed him the box, and stood next to him as he opened it. He gave her a wry look as the gift was revealed. "Scully, you shouldn't have," he said, pulling out a Paddington Bear. He was wearing his raincoat, boots, rain hat and he even had the tag saying "Take Care of this Bear." "It was no problem, Mulder," Scully said. He leaned toward her and said, "I mean no, you *shouldn't* have. Jeez, don't let anyone see this or they'll really think I'm *nuts*." He shook his head. "I can imagine the latest 'Spooky' story going around the office." Scully laughed. "Mulder, stop being so sensitive." He held the bear in his hands. "You know, the one I had as a kid seemed so big. I used to sit and read to him for hours." Scully liked the sweet image that formed in her mind: her partner reading to his teddy bear. "Thanks, Scully," he said softly. "This brings back some good memories." Smiling, she patted his shoulder gently. "You're welcome, Fox." Upon hearing his proper name; he looked up at her and couldn't help but smile as well. The End