She shook her head slowly, never letting her eyes leave his face.  In the
mirror behind her he watched his own, stolen lips curve up.  "Who do you
trust, Scully?  Yourself?"

He could feel his lips forming the words, feel when the words fell away.
Saw his own face crease with effort as his fingers were forced, strain
locking the muscles across his shoulders and his finger didn't move.  Not
yet.  The weapon in his hands finally trembled with the effort to pull the
trigger and not pull the trigger.

"Scully . . ."  In reflection, the smile dropped away and his eyes went
wide.  "Scully, get out of here!"

"Mulder?"  Her weapon wavered, barrel dropped an inch and his father's
voice screamed in his ears, "fool!  She'll kill you.  She's a spy and a
liar!"

"No!"  But the gun steadied.  His own teeth bared, reflecting light that
only lived in a memory that wasn't his.

TO BE CONTINUED BY.. SOmEOnE ElSE..?

The memories, like all of the other memories swirling around in his head,
solidified and became real. Betrayal. Lying. His beloved Truth, stripped
bare. Did he even know the meaning of the word anymore? Belasco was
showing him and he was believing it. He ached with the need to believe it.
A small, dark corner of himself said that there was a difference between
wanting to believe and actual belief. But as he held the gun... he didn't
care...

... Belasco had him; at least for now. The gun, like the body, became an
extension of his evil. Belasco concentrated on the alien fingers and the
cold steel of the weapon. He pointed the barrel of the gun at Scully's
heart. Her eyes turned icy cold as she cocked the hammer and took a step
forward.

"Can you kill me this time?" Mulder's alien voice said in a throaty
whisper. Scully slowly shook her head.

"I won't be killing Mulder."

Pause.

"I'll be freeing him."

Almost of their own accord, Mulder's eyebrows rose... but it was Belasco's
thin trickle of fear that ran down Mulder's spine. He twisted the knife and
Ty screamed, a long, painful shriek that shook the rafters of the old
house. Scully half-turned, as if Ty's pain had been transferred to her.
Spirits and yearnings and mysteries seemed to be floating about the room,
dashing madly, searching for somewhere to go, to be. The power they exuded
made Janet gasp for breath. She reached out with her hands, scrabbling at
the floor.

"No...." she whispered painfully. "No mooooore...."

Surprised, Belasco flicked a gaze towards the medium. The woman was
powerful... maybe dangerously so. And here he was, wasting his time on the
lieutenant. 

"So much fun though..." he muttered with Mulder's mouth as he gazed upon
his bloodied and tortured creation. Ty's blood gushed down the patterned
wall in ruby red streams, sucking the life force out of the formerly
forceful. It tasted bitter, tangy. And it was eroding away. Belasco eased
up.... just a little. Ty gasped and moaned. Belasco needed her alive...
until he could take her. Until he could take all of them. And that damned
bitch Scully would rather fall on her sword than give herself to him.
Maybe he should have taken her first. Mulder, although somewhat of a
fighter, had so many psychological bells and whistles that the fight had
gone out of him. Belasco wanted Mulder to take Scully. It would be one of
his more bitter ironies...

... The box was dark and small and he didn't know if it was real or if he
was hallucinating. All he knew was that it felt real; it chafed against
his bare arms and smelled of mildew. It was so dark and he didn't know
what to do. He'd spent the last while sobbing, begging for help. But
nobody came. Figures drifted by and poked sad faces into his realm, but
then they left him, alone. To face... what?

A noise from outside. He lifted his tear-stained face and held his breath.
Salvation, maybe? The presence was strong and it hovered, waiting. He could
feel it, but not see it. Not in the dark.

"Open your eyes, child," a powerful voice commanded. His eyes were open,
he thought irritably. But he followed instructions and opened his eyes. A
disheveled red-haired woman stood in front of him, defiantly pointing a
gun at his heart. Her eyes were so sad, so forlorn... they missed him. Him?

"I don't..." he whispered. The figure floated towards him, rotten arms
outspread. The sweet smell turned to bile. He gagged. 

"I can't hurt you."

A face flickered into view, then out. A face he recognized. His own...
no... it couldn't...

"Who are you?" he asked. The figure didn't answer, just floated;
motionless... leaving it to him to decide. But he didn't want to decide.
He was tired of thinking, of speculating, of hoping. He was... tired. And
that had caught him. He looked out of the eyes once again.

"Scully," he said sadly. He tried reaching towards her but his arms
wouldn't work. He used the eyes and looked down. He held a gun, HIS gun,
on Scully. No, not quite him... the monster held the gun. The monster that
had terrorized him his entire life. His father, the shadowy men who glared
at him, Patterson. All of them, repeating the pattern, destroying him.

"I can't do anything," he said softly. The figure grew angry and snapped
at him. He flinched, jerking backwards in his box. It stung...

... Scully flicked a glance towards Ty, who was barely conscious. Her hand
shook as she raised the weapon. Shoot Mulder, release Ty. Maybe. What would
happen to the ghost? What if she didn't kill him? What if she did?

"Goddammit," Scully whispered angrily. Then she saw Mulder jerk and
stumble. A crash made Scully whirl around. Ty hit the ground hard, lying
motionless on the parquet floor, blood spreading out beneath her. Scully
knelt next to her, ignoring Mulder behind her, desperately needing to save
this woman. She could hear Mulder's harsh breath behind her...

... The figure hissed at him and reached out.

"No..." He'd never been so scared.

"Take it," the figure commanded. "Go on. Take it."

Take? He looked doubtfully at the creature, then he understood. Take it.
He reached out a tentative hand, grasped the rotting limb of the
creature's... and brought it to his mouth. He inhaled the fetid, stale
ectoplasm. He gagged as it slid down his throat, but he didn't stop until
the last tendril was gone. It filled him with an awesome power, as it made
him sick...

... Ty's blank gaze found Scully's. Scully tried to smile reassuringly at
her, but it was a no go. Ty was dying, and Ty knew that Scully knew.

"Dana..." Ty whispered faintly. "Dana... don't... kill him...let me go...
get them... get out..."

Scully felt useless. She smoothed Ty's matted hair. Behind her, Mulder
gagged. Scully turned to see him double over. Janet, still curled up on
the floor, turned wide, staring eyes to him. Mulder went down to his
knees, still gagging, and vomited all over the floor. Scully got to her
feet.

"Mulder?" she asked tentatively. He kept retching... and dropped the gun.
Scully eyed the weapon, inched towards it. Slowly...

... Belasco felt the body go and couldn't understand. Mulder shouldn't be
sick; he should be stronger than ever, with this gift Belasco had given
him. Or, rather, taken from him. But here he was, vomiting his guts out
all over the ballroom floor. A flame blew through Belasco's head and
Mulder's eyes fogged. A sickly sweet smell... the cold brush of air...
poison... he was poisoned!!!!

Belasco gagged for real now as Mulder's body shuddered. He had to... get
out. There was no other way. He turned as he heard the click of a gun and
saw that bitch Scully, pointing his own gun... Mulder's own gun... at him.
She was scared for him... scared for Mulder. A last-ditch effort could be
arranged. He made Mulder crawl forward. Scully backed up warily.

"It doesn't have to be this way," he whispered. "You can have it all,
Scully. You can have Mulder the way you want him."

Scully's eyes narrowed.

"I want him free of your influence," she said in a low but strong voice.
The body was shaking and shivering... shriveling. Belasco had to use all
he was just to keep it moving forward, towards Scully. He needed the
timing to be perfect but he didn't have much more time before he had to
go. He swiveled Mulder's eyes towards Ty and saw the light blue life force
drifting out of the woman. 

Janet saw it, too. She hesitated, then started a slow, painful crawl
towards Ty. Scully flicked a glance at her.

"Janet," she said warningly. Janet didn't listen, just kept crawling.
Belasco watched her, confused... then it dawned on him. He forced Mulder
to his feet. Mulder heaved and retched and shook. Scully pointed the
muzzle of Mulder's gun at his own heart. Belasco had no choice; he would
have to let Scully kill him... but not before... he needed...

... He could see better out of the eyes and saw his body moving towards
the two women. Janet reached Ty and wrapped cold arms around her. Ty
groaned in pain. Mulder felt Belasco's power mounting and knew he wanted
the women apart. He wanted them all apart. If they were all together he
would...

Suddenly, Mulder lunged at Scully, grabbing her by the wrist. Taken by
surprise, Scully let the gun clatter to the floor. Eyes wide, she looked
at Mulder, who looked as surprised as she was. No, Belasco was as
surprised as she was.

"Mulder," Scully breathed. She could feel the heat radiating off Mulder as
he dragged her towards Janet and Ty. Mulder's eyes were deep, inexpressive
pools... but there was something there. Fear. Struggle. Death.

Mulder dropped to the ground, pulling Scully down with him. Janet screamed
and scrambled backwards, terrified of this power in front of her, the power
that made her head explode.

"Janet," Mulder said roughly. She shook her head and moaned, keening.
Scully tried desperately to wrench Mulder's fingers from her wrist but
with Belasco inside of him, he was incredibly strong. Mulder's trembling
fingers reached for Janet.

Then he slapped her across the face.

"You fucking BITCH!" he yelled. The hope fell. Belasco was in control
again...

... His head was in a vice and the rest of his body was numb. All the
hate, anger and depravity visited upon Belasco's victims coursed through
Mulder's bloodstream. And it hurt. He felt the knife gut him, the bullets
burrow through him, the cord tighten around his neck. He felt the tarn
rise up around him, choking him. He saw the figure, the one he'd ingested,
praying to his strength. Praying for salvation. Praying to burn...

Burn.

The drapes caught fire first, a spontaneous blaze that took Scully and
Janet by surprise. Scully was sure she'd broken her wrist trying to free
it from Mulder's grasp, but he still had a firm hold on her. She watched
helplessly as he doubled over in pain, retching, his dull gaze locked on
the burning curtains. A moment of fear flickered across his gaze and he
looked at Scully.

"The others..." he whispered. "Dying..."

Scully didn't know who was talking to her, Belasco or Mulder. But she knew
Belasco could never be that vulnerable. Scully reached out and took Janet's
cold hand in her own. Janet jerked as part of Belasco's being ran through
her. But Janet understood, almost immediately. She looked slowly at Ty,
who was gasping for breath, for her last breath. And she took Ty's hand.

Mulder jerked and spasmed and inside, he writhed in pain. Ty's pain, which
had no place else to go...

... Belasco felt the end. But he wouldn't go quietly; he hadn't, not ever.
The house was a testament to that. As the ballroom burned around him, he
turned Mulder's dead eyes to Scully, to the only person Mulder had ever
trusted.

"He won't be the same after this. Not ever. I'll see to that."

Scully just glared hatefully at him. Belasco felt the pain bubbling up in
Mulder's gut. Pain and ... fear? Fear of what? Fear of fire. Belasco
almost laughed. The kid was afraid of fire. He tried to make Mulder let go
of Scully's wrist but he couldn't. She was... his lifeline. It made Belasco
sick.

"He's already had a breakdown, Scully. He's already seen how getting what
he dreams can destroy him. I can make it worse. I can turn him into a
vegetable, comatose and completely withdrawn. I know him. I know what he
seeks. Who he... wants."

Belasco eyed Scully and through Mulder's eyes, saw her draw away from him.
Somewhere in the distance, Janet coughed.

"Inside of me, he's consumed his dreams. For you. To save you. He's
relived that which he repressed. I can tell Mulder a lot about himself. So
much so that he'll go insane. You think you've lost him with me? You can't
even begin to see how I will destroy him."

She was completely and utterly still. Staring at him. Transfixed. It was
magical.

"Most importantly, I can make sure he never talks to you again. Knowledge
is power, Agent Scully. I have that power. You want a demonstration? I'll
show you."

... He came out of the box, blinking in the sudden light of the fire.
Mulder gasped, startled. He swung his gaze to Scully.

"Scully? What are you... where's..."

He tried to pull out of her grasp but she wouldn't let him.

"Mulder, listen to me. Belasco's testing you. Testing us. You mustn't let
him --"

Mulder's eyes changed.

"Back inside," he snapped. "Back inside to your lessons."

... The lessons began thus. First, the slap across the face for tracking
sand into the house. He was four. Then, the fall down the stairs. No, not
a fall. A push. The adorable baby sister, so cute, so intuitive. He was so
afraid for her, afraid that soon she would be in for the same treatment. So
he protected her. The broken arm, the black eye, the bruised ribs. All for
her. All for nothing. Because he was blamed when she was taken. It was his
fault. Then the lessons changed and grew more dangerous. The smoking man.
His memories, returning but taking a slight detour. What was truth? Being
betrayed by those he trusted. Not trusting. Easier that way. Then the
truth, the truth he now knew was a lie. Time to come back out of the box...

Smoke engulfed the ballroom but Scully was too afraid to move. She glanced
at Janet, who was still huddled protectively over Ty... and Scully knew Ty
wasn't going to make it much longer. For his part, Mulder, or Belasco, was
still crouched on the floor, obviously in pain. He straightened suddenly
and looked at Scully. Then Scully understood everything Belasco had said
to her. She believed him.

The man in front of her was empty, devoid of the wonderfully complex
humanity that had made him so special. His eyes were empty pools, wide
open and staring. His skin burned with fever.

"Mulder?" Scully said tentatively. Mulder flinched and shot a look of
distrust at her. He hated and distrusted so completely that he couldn't be
anything else. He was nothing. Scully felt tears well up in her eyes.
"Mulder, please.... Please listen to me. This isn't real. None of it is
real."

He tried to pull away from her again but she switched and grabbed his
wrist, hard. It terrified him. He pulled with all of his strength,
dragging Scully across the floor towards the fire.

"Mulder, the fire!" she yelled. He was so intent on getting away from her
that he paid no attention. Scully dug her heels into the floor, straining
to hold Janet's hand, trying not to cause Ty any more pain. But Janet's
hand slipped out of Scully's. She jerked hard on Mulder's wrist, managing
to drag him back a few feet. For a minute, Scully wanted Belasco back. For
a minute, she wanted to put Mulder out of his misery. But she knew what
Belasco was doing. He'd created this... this facade in the hopes that
Scully would fail the test. Well, fuck the test. With all of her might
Scully pulled, dragging Mulder back towards Janet's straining hand. Janet
looked at her with fearful eyes.

"She's dying!" Janet screamed. Smoke and embers swirled around them.
Scully managed to take Janet's hand. Mulder grew still and Scully glanced
at him. The eyes burned. Belasco.

"I don't care what you do to him, you son of a bitch," Scully whispered
through clenched teeth, "you can't break him. He won't believe your lies."

She didn't believe him. Bitch. Belasco shut Mulder back up into his little
box and concentrated all of his might on the red-headed bitch. Mulder
wasn't going to take her, but Belasco was. First, he'd take the other two.
Then he'd have Scully all to himself. He could make her live for a long
while, like he had with the others.  

Ty groaned and looked at Janet.

"You have to... do it... now..." she whispered. Janet shook her head.

"I c-c-can't..."

With one last effort, Ty pulled Janet towards her, made eye contact. Made
her understand. Janet's pale hand oh so slowly pulled Scully's discarded
gun across the floor. Slowly... Ty breathed... one more breath... The
gunshot was deafening in the burning room. Mulder's eyes snapped towards
Ty, who let out a breath and.... Belasco howled. Scully felt something
cold snap through her, almost as if drawn to the point of death, then
Mulder went limp. Janet screamed.

"Janet, let go!" Scully yelled. Janet snatched her hand away from Ty's and
backed away. Ty's cold dead eyes stared upwards. The fire was roaring now,
threatening to bring down the house. How convenient, thought Scully. She
turned towards Mulder, who was barely conscious, eyes fluttering.

"We have to get him out of here, Janet," Scully said authoritatively.
Janet snapped to and grabbed Mulder's other arm. Between them, they helped
Mulder up and staggered towards the hallway. The smoke billowed out with
them, rushing to get ahead. Mulder was gagging, but Scully couldn't tell
if it was because of the smoke or because of... whatever had happened to
him. They pulled Mulder down the hallway and past the staircase. Only a
little more, Scully thought. Come on, Mulder. You can do it.

They never knew what hit them. The cold air bit through them from behind,
throwing them forward. Scully hit the ground hard and turned around. Her
eyes widened. It was Belasco. She was certain of it.

And he was pissed.

Scully saw the form dodge towards them again, sweeping through Janet.
Scully threw herself down to the floor and laced her fingers over her
head. The cold hurt just as much the second time and Scully felt numb. She
managed to crawl forward, grabbing Mulder and dragging him with her.

"Janet!" she hollered, not turning around... praying Janet would just
follow. Hoping she was all right.

Knowing she wasn't. 

Scully half-turned. Janet was suspended in mid-air, obviously unconscious.
Belasco's cold hand had her by the neck. The form thundered at them, the
words so fierce they couldn't be understood. Without warning, Belasco
threw Janet.

Her broken body thudded into the wall and slid down, leaving a pink trail
of blood. Her dead eyes stared at nothing as her head lolled on a broken
neck. Scully could feel icy fingers reaching for her and she jerked away.
Not Belasco, though. Mulder. Conscious. Scully bolted to her feet, pulled
Mulder up, and just ran. The wind raced at her back as the fire roared.
Beams crashed and Scully ducked. The house was coming down around hem, in
fire and in rage.

The door... so close. Open a bit. Scully lunged at it, nearly getting her
fingers hacked off as it slammed shut. She spun around.

"Let us go, you bastard!" she shouted. Mulder, a bit more lucid now, was
yanking on the doorknob, desperately trying to get the door open. Scully
grabbed him.

"Kitchen," she breathed. They spun and raced for the kitchen. The smoke
was so think that it was impossible to see. Mulder choked and fell to his
knees. Scully just pulled him along, to the back door. Belasco could shut
this one; it was thin enough to kick in.

"Scully!"

On instinct, Scully ducked. A knife twanged into the wall where her head
used to be. And then, all the knives were flying around the kitchen.
Mulder pounded at the door lock, managing to splinter the door. He
collapsed, spent, as the fetid air mixed with the smoke. Freedom. Outside.
Free.

Scully shoved Mulder down the back stairs and just missed being cleaved in
two by a phantom butcher knife. The house shook as Belasco roared and
Scully didn't waste any time pulling her partner to his feet and running
down the long driveway.

For a long while, all they could hear was the faint crackle of a huge fire
and the sound of each other's breathing. Scully didn't know how far they'd
gone until she realized she could no longer feel the cold grasp of
Belasco, or smell the stench of evil. They stumbled onto the road and
collapsed. It took Scully a long moment to catch her breath. She sat up
and twisted around, able to see the blaze that engulfed Hell House.
Mulder's breathing was getting raspier and she turned to look at him. He'd
never looked thinner, more defeated. Scully felt a cold flash of fear.
Belasco couldn't be right. It was a trick. It had to be a trick. With a
trembling hand, she felt for a pulse. Weak and thready. Mulder coughed and
groaned.

"Mulder," she said softly. "Mulder, open your eyes. Look at me." Please be
able to, she added silently. He winced and opened his eyes, blinking at
her. He tried to sit up.

"Don't, Mulder. Take it easy. Rest," she said quietly. He coughed again,
obviously in pain. Scully didn't even know where to begin. What had
Belasco done to him? How had he hurt Mulder? Mulder's filthy shirt was
dark with blood.

"Oh, shit..." Scully muttered. Mulder tried to pull away but Scully
managed to get a look at a particularly nasty knife wound.

"The fire..." he whispered. "Janet..."

"She's dead, Mulder," Scully said. "Belasco..." She couldn't continue. She
didn't want to believe. Most of all, she didn't want Mulder to believe, to
have to face this. He curled up on his side as he coughed again. Scully
took off her soot-covered coat and covered him with it. I'll let him rest,
she thought. For awhile...

... The old man took them into town. He dropped them at the police station
and for the next few hours, both Mulder and Scully were subjected to a
barrage of questions surrounding the latest Hell House massacre. Scully
kept insisting that Mulder needed to be in the hospital, but they wouldn't
listen and Mulder wouldn't just pass out so they'd have to call a doctor.
Finally, around dawn, the questions were over. The Sheriff poked his head
into the interrogation room.

"Doctor's on his way," he offered. Scully rolled her eyes, frightened to
death to be in a town so small that they didn't distinguish between
"doctor" and "hospital." Mulder slumped beside her, thankfully wrapped in
blankets. Scully carefully checked the knife wound again. Thankfully, it
had stopped bleeding. But from her partner's pallor, she knew he'd lost a
lot of blood. And God only knew what else. He coughed. Scully held a cup
of water up for him. He drank a little of it, not looking any less
miserable. She could still feel the fever coming off him and didn't even
want to think about where that came from. And he still wouldn't talk to
her.

Enough of this.

"Mulder, tell me what happened. Tell me, from the beginning, and I won't
interrupt. I won't ask questions. I won't doubt you."

"I can't," he rasped. "I don't remember."

That was an automatic response, Scully thought instantly. She opened her
mouth to speak again, but Mulder beat her to it.

"The psychological effects of that house are overwhelming," he said
softly. "I can't... I don't want to believe I killed anyone, Scully... but
I must have. I killed Nicholson. I killed Ty," he added sadly. Shocked,
Scully stared at him. He didn't meet her gaze. "They all believe it was a
ghost, that a spirit did all of... this. That one spirit was evil enough
to cause the pain. But it's our belief in the spirit that ruined us.
Ruined me."

"Mulder... you'd rather believe that you brutally murdered two people? Or
are we adding Euell to the list? And Harry --" The pained look that
flickered across Mulder's bruised featured stopped her. He hadn't known
about Harry. He bowed his head.

"Harry..." his voice was muffled. "Oh God..."

Scully wanted to comfort him, put an arm around him, but he was hunched
over and away from her. As usual, alone in his grief. Scully had never met
a more interesting dichotomy than Fox Mulder. While he would do anything to
attribute pain and loss to paranormal phenomena, he would also accept guilt
at the drop of a hat. Scully helplessly watched his shoulders shake as he
accepted the guilt of Harry's death. Any other time, Scully would firmly
agree that there was a reasonable, scientific explanation to what they'd
seen. She never wanted to play into her partner's fantasies, and most of
the time, that's how she viewed his outlandish theories. But this time...
she wouldn't let him get away with it this time. She'd seen it and her own
fears of the unknown would not contribute to Mulder's guilt on this one.

"Mulder, I don't know what you saw... but I saw Belasco. I saw his evil, I
even felt it. I saw how he... controlled you. He drove us mad, Mulder. All
of us. He used us, through our weaknesses."

Mulder flinched and Scully felt a pang for her partner. 

"There are some things," she continued softly, carefully, "that I don't
want to... that I shouldn't know, Mulder."

She stopped, hoping he got her drift, because she certainly wasn't going
to clarify her point. He looked up at her slowly, a thin line of fear
through his eyes. Fear at having to confront how he'd been tricked, of
having to turn it into an issue with this person who was becoming such an
important part of his life. 

"I don't want to... believe that it happened," he replied slowly. Scully
nodded. It was okay. She'd think about it, he'd think about it... and
they'd never mention it. It was okay. She smiled at him.

 "I don't remember," he said, quietly anguished. "From the time I... went
to sleep, that night... to the time we got out of the house. I don't know
what happened."

Continuing with the story they'd live with forever. Scully looked at him
for a long moment.

"Is that what you told them?" she asked. Mulder nodded. Scully leaned back
in her chair. "That's what I told them, too."

Mulder watched as the stiffness left Scully's shoulders. He hunched over
again, trying to avoid the pain that kept coming in waves. The pain in his
heart, in his head, couldn't be bought off with medicine or rest. While
Mulder knew he could tell Scully what had happened when Belasco had shut
him up in the box, he knew he didn't want to because she'd see how much it
hurt him and she'd try to rationalize it away. He didn't want that. He
could pretend that her concern for him transcended what she actually knew
and went into the darkest corner of his heart, where he would eventually
be able to put the pain. Maybe he'd be able to create a little box for it,
like Belasco had for him.

He'd open the box, and in would crawl Samantha, who had saved them all by
giving up the residue of her essence, by turning foul so he could poison
Belasco and weaken him so they had a chance. Then he'd turn the key and
forget that key existed. He'd continue to exist, somehow. He would give up
his life for Samantha and he should be comforted that she would give up her
life for him, but... he couldn't be. He had tasted her being. He knew she
was dead.

The dead can't lie.