Chapter Text
I'm sitting outside of Skinner's office, trying not to worry and failing miserably. It's Friday evening and I'd said my goodbyes to Mulder for the night and gotten into my car, only for Skinner to call me to ask that I come in to see him as soon as possible. And not to mention it to Mulder.
I'm still racking my brains as to what it could be about, when he opens his office door and waves me in.
Standing and smoothing imaginary creases from my skirt in an attempt to soothe my nerves, I walk through with as much confidence as I can muster.
"Please Agent Scully, have a seat," he extends his arm towards the chair in front of his desk in invitation.
Sitting in front of his desk, I cross my legs and pick at some non existent fluff on my jacket sleeve. Then with a calming breath, raise my face, professional mask firmly in place.
Skinner clears his throat and straightens the already obsessively straight pens on his desk, avoiding my gaze, and I realize with a start that Skinner is nervous. Dread starting to rise, and I swallow uncomfortably.
"Agent Scully, sorry to have called you in so late on a Friday," he says, looking up at me.
"Not at all Sir. Can I ask what it's regarding?" I ask him as calmly as I can.
"It's about…..well, it's about Agent Mulder," he starts, making me swallow again, my mouth going dry. "How much do you know about his profiling days?"
Shit. Not this. Anything but this. I start to feel a little nauseous.
"Well Sir, Agent Mulder doesn't really talk about it all that much, so really just what I've heard from other Agents," I tell him. "Although I did get more of an insight into what it must have been like, when we were investigating the John Mostow case," I add, hoping that if this is about asking Mulder to profile on another case, mentioning John Mostow might make him reconsider. I know how worried even Skinner was about him while he was on that case.
"Right." He nods and clears his throat again. "Agent Mulder has been requested to profile on a serial murder case. I personally denied the request. There are plenty of other profilers that could do the job. Only it would seem I've been over-ruled on the decision."
He straightens his pens again.
"I have a meeting tomorrow with the director himself, but I don't hold up much hope that I can stop the request from being granted."
He's quiet for a moment and it seems as though he's waiting for me to say something, so with trepidation I say, "with all due respect Sir, I'm still not sure why you've called me in."
He takes a deep breath. "Do you know why Agent Mulder left the Behavioural Science Unit?"
"I believe he left to pursue the X-files, Sir." Mulder had told me this himself, he had found the files in the basement and was fascinated.
"Yes that is true, Mulder was interested in pursuing the X-files for personal reasons that I know you're aware of, but…."
He takes his glasses off and rubs the bridge of his nose, before returning them to his face.
The feeling of dread I had is getting worse. I've never known Skinner to be hesitant about saying anything before.
"The last case Mulder worked there…." He trails off and starts again. "I wasn't aware until recently myself, how bad things had gotten for him back then. It seems he was struggling for a while before he actually left......."
Jesus, I wish he'd just spit it out already.
Clearing his throat, he seems to gather himself together and carries on with a renewed determination.
"The last case he was on was rough, it was hard on everyone, but Mulder really struggled. It was a serial murder case, young boys were being raped and killed. Mulder left the investigation before the last murder. They just stopped suddenly after that. The killer was never caught."
That doesn't sound like Mulder. Once he's on a case he's like a dog with a bone, he can't leave it alone unfinished.
"Why did he leave? Was he ordered away?" I ask, confused. Even that doesn't sound right. I know Mulder and he just wouldn't listen to an order to stay away, even if it meant working on his own time.
Skinners voice drops in cadence. "Mulder attempted to commit suicide a few days before the last murder," he says gently.
He what? My heart stops, and starts back up at twice the speed. The nausea I was feeling before, washes over me again, making me think I might actually be sick.
Closing my eyes, I try to swallow back the feeling. Images of Mulder assault me, when he's seemed down in the past. With this new information, I'm questioning if he could have been feeling suicidal and I hadn't known.
Shit, it makes me feel guilty, like I should have known this about him. I can see his eyes in my mind, those beautiful hazel eyes that have been so full of hurt and guilt at times, it has physically hurt me to look at him. So not wanting to push him, I've given him a token reassuring gesture to acknowledge his pain, then left him to deal with it alone. I don't think I've ever felt so guilty before. I swear I will never leave him to deal with anything alone again. The thought of him ever feeling desperate enough to consider taking his own life, tears at me. It breaks my heart.
"Scully? I'm sorry, I realize that must have come as a shock to you. Are you ok? Would you like a glass of water?" He asks, moving his chair backwards.
"No," I shake my head, "no, I'm fine thank you. I just wasn't expecting……" I blink rapidly to fight back the tears I can feel trying to escape, and clear my throat, "I'm fine." I try to smile but fail.
He nods, pulling his chair back to the desk. "Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't divulge this sort of information, but right now I'm talking as a friend. A concerned friend." He sighs, "the case that he's been requested on…………..it would seem that the killer has reappeared. There's already been 3 children killed and another is missing."
My stomach twists. They want him back working the case he was on when he tried to kill himself!?
"Who requested him?" I can feel the anger rising. "Surely if they were told what happened the last time he worked on this case, they couldn't possibly expect him to work on it again?"
"Scully, it's not in his official files. I've tried to explain why I don't think he should work this case, but I was told that unless I can provide evidence from his official files that there was indeed a suicide attempt and it was directly caused by that particular case, they're saying there's no reason why he shouldn't work it." His voice loses its professional edge, "honestly Scully, it makes me wonder who it is exactly that's behind the request."
My mouth drops open, "you think……...you think whoever it is knows?"
"I don't know." He shakes his head and closes his eyes. "Maybe I'm just reading too much into it, but normally if I refuse a request, that would be the end of it."
"Why isn't it in his official file?" I ask
"Patterson," he says with derision. "He tried and succeeded in keeping it under wraps. I only found out about it myself recently. When he was arrested, all of the things in his office that weren't needed for cases were boxed up and stored, and somebody made sure I came into possession of some of those things," he tells me. He waits a beat before adding, "there's more."
More? I cringe internally. Shit, I'm not sure I can take more. I can feel the start of a headache.
"He kept a journal, it's…………..he documented Mulder's time there, his state of mind. It appears he became obsessed with Mulder, he wanted to see how he would respond to………..to certain things. He used him, not just to catch killers, which as you know he excelled at, but also as the subject of some kind of study into what he described as the fine line between genius and insanity. He played mind games with him. What he did Scully, all of it was completely unethical, but some of it was just plain cruel."
"What was? What did he do to him?" My voice has risen in pitch, so I clear my throat and try to calm myself. My hate for Patterson is so strong, I can't believe I once admired that man. I swear, if he had anything to do with Mulder trying to kill himself………..
"Like I said, he played mind games with him. Honestly there's too much to go into right now, but I'm going to give you the things I was given so you can read through them yourself. I think it would help Mulder if he has someone who understands."
"Don't you think if anyone should have these things it should be Mulder himself?" I ask a little incredulously.
"I don't think he should be told just yet."
At my raised eyebrow he continues. "If I'm right, and Mulder is made to profile on this case, I'd be concerned that knowing what Patterson was doing back then could put extra stress on him. Stress that he doesn't need……...As soon as the case is over, or the request is denied, I will speak with him personally and explain about the journal."
As much as I hate to admit it, he does have a point. It doesn't mean I have to like it though, so I give him a curt nod.
"I'll know by tomorrow morning if the request will be denied or not. You'll be the first to know," he tells me. "But if the decision is for him to work the profile, I'll make sure you're put on the case with him."
Not trusting my voice not to break if I speak, I nod again.
As I'm leaving his office, he calls out to me. "Scully………...if Patterson is ever able to stand trial, I want you to be assured I will do everything in my power to make sure he's prosecuted for what he did."
*******
I'd left Skinner's office with an old briefcase, and by the time I'd gotten home, my stomach was in tight knots. Just having these things in my possession is making me feel guilty.
I can understand Skinner's reluctance to tell Mulder straight away, but it's making me extremely uncomfortable. So I've been sitting for the past half an hour on my bed, just staring at the journal, not wanting to touch it, my heart beating faster than it should be.
As well as the journal, the briefcase has loose papers stuffed into it and what looks like numbered audio tapes.
Eventually, my curiosity takes over and I lift the journal out and drop it in front of me on the bed, feeling sick. I take a calming breath and reach for the cover, then suddenly change my mind and push it away.
Telling myself to get a grip, I pull it back and I'm just about to open it when my phone shrills, making me jump dramatically.
Shit. Feeling strangely as though I've been caught doing something I shouldn't, I reach shakily into my pocket.
"Yes," I answer, breathlessly.
"Dana honey, hi."
Oh, I'd forgotten I was supposed to be going to visit my mom tonight. Cringing, I apologize for not calling and then tell her something has come up at work, so I won't be able to make it, feeling marginally guilty for lying to her.
"Oh ok, not to worry sweetie. We can just rearrange, do it some other time?" She sounds disappointed, although I can tell she's trying to hide it.
"Yes Mom, I'm so sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you. Maybe we could go out somewhere next weekend?"
She agrees and we say our goodbyes, but I could tell she hadn't been convinced it would happen. It makes me feel even guiltier for forgetting tonight, it's not often I visit anymore. I've been spending more and more of my free time with Mulder recently, the only reason we're not seeing each other tonight is because I was going to visit Mom.
Ever since he kissed me on New year's Eve, I've been wanting to spend more time with him. There's been a kind of anticipation in the air when we're together away from work, a feeling that we're both just hovering the line that divides us from being friends to being more. Not that I've ever really thought of him as just a friend, he's always meant more to me than that, but it's only recently I've felt it could actually become more. It's just that every time I think something might happen, one of us gets nervous and looks away or says something to break the spell, then the moment's over and we're left awkwardly trying to pretend it didn't exist in the first place. If I'm honest it's usually Mulder that gets nervous, which surprises me. At one point it was always me, but once I'd admitted my feelings to myself, things seemed to switch and it left me wondering if he's really interested in being more than friends or if I'm reading him wrong.
I've never had trouble reading a man's intentions before Mulder. He's a bit of a conundrum to me, he'll throw innuendos around and flirt, but won't make a move. Maybe I'm not making my own intentions clear enough? The problem with that though is, what if I'm wrong and he's not interested? I don't think I could face him rejecting me, it would change everything between us. So…….. we're stuck, until one of us bites the bullet and makes that move.
Which makes me think again about this damn journal, I need to just bite the bullet and look at it………
Taking a deep breath, I slide it closer to me and flip open the cover fast. I'm not sure what I was expecting to happen, but I breathe a sigh of relief that I've not been struck down by lightning or spontaneously combusted. It's ok, I can do this. I'll just read a little of it, it won't do any harm and maybe it will help me understand Mulder better if he has to do this profile.
I start to read the first page, it's handwritten in small neat writing.
Subject: Fox William Mulder
Age: 26
Occupation: Criminal profiler
Subject has been working as a full time criminal profiler for the last 6 months and has shown an amazing aptitude for understanding the criminal mind. His profiles have the highest accuracy that I have ever seen in the behavioural science world. I will be keeping records of his state of mind as I increase his workload above what would usually be recommended as well as adding extra stresses. My goal is to study the fine line between genius and insanity, and to find out how far a genius mind can be pushed before succumbing to true insanity.
I feel sick. The irony of where Patterson ended up isn't lost on me, but it's doing little to relieve the hatred I'm feeling for him right now. Before I can think too much about it I flip to the middle pages and read the entry.
Subject has been voluntarily locked in the old interrogation room for the last 48 hours whilst profiling a serial rapist/murderer. Since I convinced him of his potential danger to women while profiling rapists, he has insisted on being locked up when on cases such as these. He has refused to eat for the entire 48 hours and has not slept.
Subject completed the profile 63 hours after being locked up. He was extremely weak when he left the interrogation room. I suspect dehydration and sleep deprivation as the cause. (Possibly also malnourishment?) He stayed relatively stable for the entire duration, although did have a period of 90 minutes where he showed minor aggression (yelling and punching walls, but calmed without intervention) and appeared to hallucinate on and off for the last 6 hours before completing the profile.
On the next case involving rape, I will see how he reacts to being told he won't be locked up.
*Interesting thought. Would it be possible that by making the subject believe he is a danger to women, that he could actually become a danger to women?
*UPDATE: profile was 100 percent accurate.*
My anger is almost at boiling point reading this. If Patterson was in this room right now, I would kill him. I would actually kill him.
I flip a couple of pages.
Subject was given drug cocktail B at a higher dose of 200ml by way of spiked coffee at 8pm.
What? He drugged him!?
At 9.10pm I sent in (x) to speak to the subject about the profile he has been working on. This was a profile on a serial killer that had avoided detection for 5 years and which 3 other profilers had tried and failed to write an accurate profile on. Subject has been working on this since 7.30pm.
I transcribed the following from audio tape 4. All of subjects speech is slurred, therefore hard to understand, and some speech was indecipherable.
(x): hey, how's the profile coming along?
Subject: fuck are you keeping me here for?
(x): what?
Subject: you can't keep me here.
(x): nobody's keeping you here Mulder. (Long silence) Are you working on that profile?
Subject: yeah, I (indecipherable) (laughs)
(x): can I have a look at it?
Subject: I want to leave, I don't think you're allowed to keep me.
(x): I'm not keeping you here, nobody is. (Silence) you think the unsub's a mailman?
Subject: yeah he is. He's (indecipherable) (silence) Fucking let me go. You can't keep me you know.
(x): Jesus (silence) why do you think he's a mailman?
Subject: because he is. (Laughs) Now I want to go (indecipherable) you can't stop me.
(x): where do you want to go?
Subject: (laughs) I don't (silence) wait I'm not the mailman right?
(x): um (silence) no, you're not the mailman.
Subject: I think I'm confused, (indecipherable) probably then. Somebody should arrest him, you know.
(x): ok, look why don't I give you a lift home?
Subject: (laughs) you want to (indecipherable) (silence) I know where the mailman lives. Wait, can we go Jen's place?
(x): um (silence) let's just get you home ok?
Subject: ok but will you tell the boss man where the mailman lives for me coz (indecipherable)
(x): sure I will. (Silence) Come on, let me help you.
Subject: you know he's been keeping me here? He's not allowed (indecipherable) fucking mailman keeping people locked up and drugged in the garage. (Silence) I don't want to be here anymore.
(x): in the garage?
Subject: please. (Silence) let me go? I won't tell anyone anything, I promise. (Silence) I don't think you're allowed to keep me
(x): Mulder?
Subject: (laughs) oh yeah, you're taking me home right?
(x): um right. Do you need a hand? (Silence) Look, hold on to me. That's it, ok come on.
Subjects profile was accurate, the killer worked as a mailman and was keeping his victims handcuffed and drugged in his garage before killing them. Once the drug had worn off, subject could remember profiling the killer, but not how he came to the conclusion about who he was or where he was keeping his victims.
I can't believe he drugged him. He could have killed him! And he wrote 'a higher dose,' meaning he'd drugged him previously with a lower dose. With anger burning through me, I rifle through the loose papers, looking for evidence of drug formulas or similar. Anything that looks remotely medical I bunch together to study. The bastard is going to rot in that prison if I have anything to do with it.
Finding nothing else in the loose papers that looks relevant, I skim over the ones I have set aside. They look to be mostly medical bills. The first one is for hospitalisation and treatment for dehydration, the next for alcohol poisoning, another two for dehydration, one for stitches in his hand, one for concussion, one for dehydration and malnourishment, but the next makes my heart stop for a beat.
Non accidental overdose.
Somebody brought him into the ER unresponsive, they believed he had taken somewhere between fifty and seventy paracetamol tablets.
Shit. He wasn't messing around. How the hell did he manage to swallow that many tablets? The nausea comes back full force and I have to dip my head down and breathe deeply to calm it enough for me to carry on reading.
His stomach had been pumped, they had found seventy-three mostly whole tablets, but a blood test had shown his kidney function to be low so they had put him on dialysis. He remained unconscious for the next 48 hours, then discharged himself against medical advice.
I push the papers away from me and rush to the bathroom just in time to empty my own stomach contents into the toilet.
When I'm certain I have nothing left in my stomach after retching on and off for at least 10 minutes, I brush my teeth and splash my face with cold water.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I wonder how I could have not already known something so monumental about Mulder. I've never thought of him as being suicidal, the thought has just never crossed my mind. He seems too self assured, sometimes to the point of almost arrogance, and that image just doesn't gel with a suicidal personality for me.
Is he really as self assured as he appears though? I think back to the times I've thought he was going to make a move on me before his nerves seemingly got the better of him. In those moments he's actually seemed tentative and unsure of himself, shy even.
I've always known that a certain amount of Mulder's seeming arrogance is a front, put on for other Agents who ridicule him, but some of it is definitely real. When he's working a case, he can be so sure of himself, of his theories, that he will run off to chase them down alone when nobody else will believe him. And 9 times out of 10 his theory will turn out to be at least partially correct, his instincts usually spot on.
But in his personal life, he isn't nearly as confident. He can flirt and throw innuendos around, but the second a woman shows any real interest, he just doesn't seem to know how to react to it.
The flirting is probably a front too if I really think about it. If it wasn't, then surely I would have noticed him spending time with other women in the years that I've known him? Maybe he has though and I haven't known. The thought brings a stab of jealousy that I shake away. We are only friends after all, even if I do want more now, I'm not naïve, everybody has a past.
I know of two of Mulder's past relationships, Phoebe and Diana. The way he shies away from any real interest from women, it makes me think he wouldn't have been the one to make the first move in either of those relationships.
Phoebe, I can imagine being so sexually aggressive that he wouldn't have had a chance to subtly decline her advances, even if he'd wanted to. He was younger then too, in college and probably even less confident than he is now. He did tell me he got in over his head with her. He probably had no idea how to refuse her back then. Or even when she came to him with that case the first year I knew him, for that matter. He'd responded in contradiction to what he'd said, telling me she played mind games, but allowing himself to be drawn in regardless, as though he had no power to stop it.
And Diana.
I hated that woman so much, and hated the thought of her and Mulder more, so I could never bring myself to analyse what their relationship would have been like. Other than knowing she seemed to hold some kind of power over him as well, albeit on a more subtle level than that of Phoebe.
The thought that he might have actually slept with her when she came back into his life not so long ago makes me glad I've already emptied my stomach. I've wanted to ask him, but I'm not sure how I would feel if my suspicions were confirmed, so I've simply not asked.
Ok, so that's not entirely true, I'm pretty sure of how I'd feel.
With a sigh I head back to my room. Standing in front of my bed, I give the journal and papers a dirty look and dump them back in the briefcase. I can't look at them again right now, I need time to process it all.
Feeling weary, I turn out the lights and crawl under the comforter, pulling it high and tucking it under my chin.
The silence is deafening, the stillness of my apartment feels suffocating, and without thinking it through I reach for my phone, speed dialing Mulder. He answers on the third ring, the sound of his voice bringing tears to my eyes.
I don't know what I would do if he wasn't in my life. I can't even imagine my life without him in it, he means so much to me.
This was a mistake, calling him. I just needed to hear his voice, to know he was ok, but now I have no idea what to say.
"Scully? Is that you? Is everything ok?"
I realize I've not spoken and his voice is taking on a panicked edge.
"Sorry Mulder, yes it's me, I just dropped the phone," I lie, closing my eyes.
"Oh," he laughs in relief, then says, "how's your Mom?"
"Um……....yeah she's good."
I don't know what to say.
"What's wrong, Scully? You sound…….down. Is everything ok?"
I desperately want to tell him about Patterson's journal, that I know what happened. I want to scream and cry and ask him how he could try to kill himself. Ask him why. Instead I lie again.
"No, I'm fine. Just couldn't sleep."
"Oh, so you thought, 'I know, I'll call Mulder, his voice will put me to sleep in no time'," he teases, then gets serious. "You're not having nightmares are you?"
"No, not recently."
I smile, thinking it was when we started to spend more of our free time together that the nightmares seemed to stop. I wonder if the same is true for him, so I ask, "have you Mulder?"
"Um, not like I used to. They seem to have eased up a lot in these past few weeks," his voice has a soft edge to it and I know he's alluding to exactly what I was thinking, that they eased around the same time as mine. It makes me happy to know that us spending more time together is having the same effect on him, that it isn't one sided.
"But you still get them?" I ask gently.
"Mmm, I always have," he says thoughtfully. "I don't think they'll ever go away completely, but these past few weeks they haven't been the same, not as frequent. I've actually had some good dreams for a change." I can hear the smile in his voice at the last part of his sentence, the insinuation of what those dreams entail, and I feel myself flush at the thought that they might not be all that different from my own dreams.
When I stay quiet he asks conversationally, "so……..why can't you sleep?"
"I don't know."
I'm starting to feel guilty with all the lying I'm doing. I curse Skinner for putting me in this position.
"Maybe you could try counting sheep," he says.
"Is that what you do when you can't sleep? Count sheep?"
"No............ I put something mind numbing on the TV. It stops me from thinking, turns my thoughts off enough for me to fall asleep. Plus, I can never really fall asleep in the dark. Or the quiet for that matter."
"Really? You can't? I can usually only fall asleep if it is dark and quiet," I tell him.
He snorts. "Scully, you could fall asleep anywhere. In fact you do. There could be bombs dropping around us and you'd just carry right on, drooling on my shoulder."
"I've never drooled on you Mulder," I tell him, indignant. "And anyway, I meant proper sleep. Like a full night's sleep, when I'm alone. In bed. At night."
I know I've set myself up for an innuendo here, so I'm surprised when he doesn't take it and instead sounds serious.
"Yeah, it's different when you're alone. That's when I can't stand the silence or the dark, when I'm alone. I hate that my brain won't switch off……........I don't like being alone with myself," he adds quietly.
It makes my heart squeeze. It makes me want to hold him, and tell him he doesn't have to be alone. But I don't. Instead I ask, "why don't you like being alone with yourself?"
He huffs a laugh and speaks with forced levity. "Ah you know, I guess I'm just not very good company Scully."
"I disagree," I tell him with seriousness. "I like your company, Mulder."
He's quiet for a while, then sounding uncertain but hopeful. "Yeah?"
"Yes." I smile. "Yes I do."
There's a pause before he answers shyly, "I like your company too."
Oh God, he can be so sweet sometimes. It's this side to him that I've only recently seen that's made me look at him in a different light. The shy side I didn't know existed, that he hides away behind his cocky, self assured attitude, but that he lets me see. It makes me feel special that he trusts me enough to show it, I know how hard he finds it to trust that much.
"I'm glad Mulder."
He's quiet and I'm not sure what to say, so I carry on, "I think I might be able to sleep now. Maybe we can do something tomorrow? Watch a movie or something?"
"Sure, sounds good," he says gently. Then his voice drops low. "What are you wearing, Scully?"
Does he have any idea what he does to me? His voice, all low and sexy like that, never fails to send shivers of arousal through me and all I can manage is, "what?"
"It's just, I could use some fodder for my dreams tonight."
Concentrating on keeping my voice even I say, "sorry to disappoint, but I'm wearing big baggy pajamas."
"That's ok, I heard bikini," he tells me.
"Bikini Mulder? Not even in your dreams."
"Oh Scully, you have no authority over what happens in my dreams," he tells me seductively.
I blush, glad we're having this conversation over the phone. Making sure to keep the smile from my voice I say firmly, "goodnight Mulder."
"Night Scully," he replies fondly, not keeping his smile hidden.
I hang up the phone. Just talking to him for that short period of time has made me feel better. He seemed the same as always. Of course there's no reason why he wouldn't, but after finding out what I did today, I think I was half expecting to hear something different in his voice, some indication that he'd once tried to kill himself. Stupid really, I know.
Why did he do it? Was it Patterson, pushing at him, making him feel as though he was losing his mind? Or the strain of profiling monsters, one after the other? Or something completely unrelated? Has he thought about doing it again since? I have so many unanswered questions.
I hope whatever it was is fully resolved, because I have an awful feeling that he's going to be asked to profile this case again.