Painful X-Perience Series
by DiAnn

Painful Experience Part XII 
scarlet679@hotmail.com

Rating: NC17 - language, adult themes 
Category: Vanilla Slash / Pure Trash / 
Discipline

Warning: Mulder/Scully/Skinner If you don't 
like this kind of thing, or you are underage, 
go somewhere else . . . NOW! I
don't want to hear from you and I don't want 
to hear from your Mama.

Spoiler: None Maybe some mention of other 
episodes but nothing too revealing.

Summary: Mulder goes to visit his Mother and 
encounters an old disciplinarian. ***Best to 
read first eleven parts of this
series for this one to really make sense.

Disclaimer: I do not, nor ever will, own 
Mulder, Scully, Skinner, Krycek or the 
X-Files. I am borrowing them without
permission and am obviously not receiving 
money for this stuff. We all know who they 
really belong to, CC, Fox and lots of
other people but again, not me.



Painful X-Perience XII
Remember When
by DiAnn

Walter Skinner watched the road with one eye 
and Mulder with the other. The agent had not 
yet said a word on the drive
home and Walter was a little worried. He had 
punished Mulder for his part in an office 
confrontation but it had been for his
own good. He just hoped Mulder saw it that 
way.

Walter had left his favorite agent in that 
corner, chewing on soap, for only about 
fifteen minutes. But by the time he retrieved
him, Mulder had been foaming at the mouth 
like a mad dog with tears streaming down his 
face. And furious.

Skinner had allowed him to rinse his mouth 
thoroughly but he knew Mulder would taste the 
soap for the rest of the night.
Walter knew all about the effects of soap in 
the mouth. He had formed his own intimate 
relationship with Lifebuoy back
when he was a teenager, thanks to his own 
loving but very strict mother.

Mulder again wiped his hand across his mouth. 
He noticed Skinner's eyes on him and dropped 
the hand quickly.

"It's all right, Mulder. It's all over now. 
No suspension, no repercussions. It's really 
much better this way."

"Maybe. I didn't like the soap and I don't 
know what Scully has planned. She's still 
angry about my trip to Arkansas." He
looked at Skinner like the trader he thought 
him to be.

"If you don't like the soap, don't call me 
those names. Where did you learn to talk like 
that, anyway? And what was that last
thing you called me?"

Mulder grinned and looked out the window, 
"It's Japanese. That diplomat, the one with 
the alien on the train, called me that
right after I arrested him. I think it means 
your mother made a questionable career 
choice. Scully taught me the rest of them,
she's pretty well versed in swear words."

"Well, maybe I should have brought that soap 
home with me."

"I don't want any more of it and if you try 
that on Scully, she *will* shoot you. No 
questions asked."

"You're probably right."

When they arrived, Mulder let himself and 
Skinner into Scully's apartment. Well, he 
stayed there now too. At least when they
weren't both at Skinner's house. But 
technically this was still Scully's 
apartment.

"Scully, I'm home." He then stood back behind 
Skinner, supposedly to remove his jacket but 
really he wanted to be out of
range until he could see what kind of mood 
his partner was in.

Scully came flying around the corner of the 
kitchen, checking Mulder over for damage as 
she approached.

"Mulder, what did you do? What confrontation? 
With what agent? Did he hit you? Are you 
hurt?"

Skinner held up his hand to stop her. "Whoa, 
Dana. Stanley Michaels said some thing that 
"Spooky" here didn't like.
Michaels did not hit Mulder, but Mulder *did* 
hit Michaels. The only place that he is hurt 
is his backside. Oh, and a little
taste of Dial in his mouth. He smarted off to 
his direct supervisor once too often."

Dana stared at him in shock, "You washed out 
his mouth?"

"Yes, I did."

"Why?" She was trying desperately not to 
laugh.

"Because he didn't like my Mother's 
occupation. Now before we discuss Agent 
Mulder's dubious behavior and the
ramifications thereof any further, could we 
have dinner. I missed lunch and I'm starved."

Scully eyed Mulder, who was now busy eying 
the carpet. She sighed.

"Sure. Fine. Whatever."

Just as dinner was being served, Mulder's 
cell phone rang from the other room. He 
quickly retrieved it from his jacket. He
was almost glad to postpone the inevitable 
discomfort of taking a seat at the table. 
Skinner had done an admirable job with
that ruler tonight.

"Mulder."

"Hi Mom. Is everything okay? Are you all 
right? Sure Mom . . . sure I'll leave right 
now. No, I understand. I'll be right there."

Scully looked up from her meal, "What's 
wrong, Mulder?'

Mulder had disappeared into the bedroom and 
was throwing some things in an overnight bag. 
"Mom wants me to come up
to Chilmark, Scully. She sounded upset."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"Yes . . . no . . . yes. You can't Scully. 
You know Mom blames you for that . . . that"

"It wasn't your sister on that bridge, 
Mulder. It was a clone. The body dissolved 
into green goo, that's very conclusive
evidence."

"I know, Scully. But . . . but she's my Mom. 
And anyway I didn't know she wasn't my sister 
when I traded her for you. So
Mom is right in a way, it is my faul . . . "

Scully placed her fingers on his lips and 
wrapped her other arm around his waist to hug 
him tightly. "I know Mulder. I don't
agree that you are to blame but I know how 
you feel. Let's talk about it later. Please 
be careful and call me later tonight.
Okay?"

"Sure, Scully." He kissed her on the lips, 
bussed Skinner on the head on his way and was 
out the door.

Skinner and Scully were left staring at each 
other.

Skinner cleared his throat, "Something about 
this is bothering me, Dana. It just doesn't 
feel right."

"I know what you mean. I would follow him but 
I have to be at Quanico at eight tomorrow to 
conduct a class. It's too late to
find someone to take my place now."

"Don't worry Dana, he'll be fine. How much 
trouble could he get into on a visit to his 
Mother's house?"

Scully smiled at Walter, "Are you talking 
about the same Mulder? I would feel better if 
he didn't go near Martha's Vineyard
without one of us with him. He always gets 
depressed or worse, whenever he goes back to 
that place."

"Yeah, well just keep close tabs on him by 
phone and let me know if anything seems 
unusual."



*****

When Mulder finally arrived at his Mother's 
immaculate house, he was exhausted. He had to 
ring the bell several times before
she answered. Looking pale and tired. He 
wrapped her in his arms.

"What's wrong, Mom? What's happened?" She 
patted his arm.

"I made some tea, Fox. Come into the kitchen 
with me."

Mulder did not want tea, he hadn't eaten at 
all that day and was very disappointed that 
he had to leave home earlier without
eating Scully's home cooked meal. He really 
wanted some real food. He decided he would 
drink the tea with his Mom and
then raid the fridge later.

Tina Mulder looked distressed as she set the 
cup in front of her son and waited for him to 
drink the hot, overly sweet liquid.
He put the cup to his lips and watched his 
mother. Her skin was pallid and her usually 
meticulous hair a little disheveled.

"Aren't you having any, Mom?"

"No Dear, not right now. Oh Fox, I need to 
talk to you. I'm so worried about you." She 
looked away and seemed to lose
her train of thought. "But . . . But right 
now I think I need to go back to bed. I just 
haven't gotten my strength back after the
stroke. Will you stay here tonight and talk 
with me in the morning?'

"Sure Mom." He stood and kissed her lightly 
on the forehead. This was strange. First she 
practically demands that he come
up here right away and then she is too tired 
to talk to him.

"You old room is all ready for you."

"I'll just sleep on the couch, Mom."

Mulder watched in horror as her eyes began to 
fill with tears. "Oh no, Dear, please. Sleep 
in your old room. It would . . . It
would mean so much to me. It . . . it's 
important, Fox."

"Okay, sure Mom, whatever you want. You know 
that."

Stranger and stranger. Shit, there wasn't 
even a television in that room. He felt just 
like a kid again being sent of bed when he
wasn't one bit sleepy. But only a few moments 
later he found himself yawning widely. He 
thought about that previously
planned refrigerator raid but decided he was 
sleepier than he had thought. He shrugged and 
headed upstairs with his arm
around his mother. A night in the Fox Mulder 
sanctuary of his youth. Could be nice.

***

Mulder awakened several hours later with a 
splitting headache and a cramp in his neck. 
**Damn.** So much for sleeping in
his old bed. Obviously didn't fit him 
anymore. And he had certainly slept in a 
strange position.

He started to push the hair out of his eyes. 
He smiled. Scully usually did that for him 
every morning now. Then he realized
that his hand wouldn't come down from it's 
uncomfortable position over his head. He 
heard the rattle of handcuffs.

**What the hell?**

The bedroom door opened slowly and his mom 
peeked around the corner.

"Mom, what the hell is going on. Get me out 
of these." He rattled the cuffs violently.

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart, he said you wouldn't 
listen unless we made you."

"Who said that? Mom, did you put something in 
that tea to make me sleep? Did you Mom? Did 
you?" Mulder was
screaming and he watched as his Mother's eyes 
clouded with tears.

Just then Mulder got the shock of his life.

"Don't talk to your Mother that way, Boy."

Cancerman! Here in his Mother's house. And 
Mulder did not have his gun. Could not defend 
his mother or himself.

"You cancer ridden Son of a Bitch, you get 
out of this house. You get away from my 
mother. If you hurt her, I will kill you. I
swear I will kill you."

The Cancerman came over to the bed, smiling 
down at the helpless young occupant. He sat 
down on the edge and placed a
hand on Mulder's chest, pushing him back down 
onto the mattress.

"Calm down, Boy, you are wearing yourself out 
and scaring your poor mother."

His mother looked relieved. "Yes Fox, please. 
Samuel has been a good friend to me since my 
stroke. He has told me how
dangerously you have been behaving. He has 
offered to help me get you back on the right 
path. It's all for your own good,
Fox."

"Samuel?"

Tina Mulder smiled at the Cancerman, "Why 
yes, this is Samuel Fox, I have known him 
since before you were born." His
mother stared out the window, lost in 
thought, a vacant smile on her still lovely 
face.

"Samuel Fo . . . Fox?" Mulder felt sick.

Cancerman smiled down at Mulder. "Yes, *Son*. 
Samuel William Fox, nice name don't you 
think. I have always liked it."

Mulder was sure he was going to vomit. Cancer 
man rose from the bed and walked over to 
Mulder's mother.

"Christina, Dear Heart, why don't you take 
another one of your wonderful little pills 
and get some more rest. I will take care
of talking to Fox this morning. Then this 
afternoon you can join us in our 
discussions."

"Yes Sam, I am a little tired. Thank you so 
much." Mulder's mother left him alone, bound 
to the bed, still dizzy from some
unknown drug and in the presence of his worst 
enemy slash Father. **Oh God, please no.**

The door opened again and two rather large 
men entered the room. Of course they were 
dressed all in black. **How
melodramatic.** Mulder could almost find this 
funny if it wasn't so damned sad. **Sam 
Fox.**

Cancerman had lost his false smile as he 
watched Mulder. The agent glared back at him. 
He refused to think of him as Sam
Fox. That made it too personal, too 
coincidental, too nauseating to think about.

"You know, Fox, I have another son. Resembles 
you but hasn't given me nearly the trouble 
you have."

"Sorry I've been such a disappointment."

"Oh you don't disappoint me, not at all. In 
fact, I've always been rather proud of you." 
He smiled, "But I couldn't help but
notice that you disappointed Walter Skinner 
yesterday."

Mulder felt himself pale, "Wha . . . what do 
you mean?"

"Oh, I think you know. Skinner's disciplinary 
methods are unorthodox but they seem to be 
highly effective. I decided to try
them myself. It wasn't hard to persuade your 
mother that you needed to be corrected. After 
all, Bill had convinced her of that
long ago."

"Don't you touch me, you Bastard. Let me go. 
Don't come near me."

"Prepare him."

Mulder fought. He landed one good kick in a 
rock hard midsection, barely received a grunt 
for his efforts. He was roughly
stripped, turned and had pillows shoved under 
his stomach lifting his backside. His feet 
were securely fastened to the posts at
the foot of the bed.

"Remember this? This isn't the first time 
you've been in this position is it? You slept 
like this many nights. Hands and feet tied,
your backside on fire from Bill's belt. *Do* 
you remember now, Fox?"

"No, no I don't remember. This didn't happen. 
Never. This never happened to ne before. Let 
me go."

"How about the garage. Do you remember what 
used to happen in the garage? I think the 
hooks are still in the ceiling. Shall
we find out later? Let your mother watch, 
just like she did back then?"

Mulder sobbed into the pillow. "No . . . no 
it never happened. It never happened."

Sam Fox held out his hand and received a 
thick leather strap from one of his minions. 
He raised it above his head.

"You know Fox, I always knew you would grow 
to be a handsome man but even I didn't 
anticipate just how attractive you
would become. You are very beautiful , Son. 
Very beautiful, indeed."

He brought the strap down hard on the 
pristine buttocks presented so enticingly for 
his attention. The retort of leather on
flesh was like a gunshot in the small room. 
Suddenly Mulder was twelve years old and the 
man above him could, without a
doubt, be his father.

Cancerman worked methodically from shoulder 
to knee. Never speeding up or slowing down, 
never hesitating. Just leaving
stripe after burning stripe down the creamy 
flesh of his antagonist. This thorn in his 
side.

He whipped Fox for getting in the way of his 
precious project. He whipped Fox for the 
boy's unrelenting curiosity. He
whipped Fox because he had turned Dana Scully 
away from the cause. He whipped Fox because 
he could.

Mulder had his head buried in his pillow. He 
couldn't stop the tears but he wasn't about 
to let this diabolic man see them.
**God, he hurt.** This was so much worse than 
his Dad had done. So much worse. Cancerman 
had covered the same
territory with that strap over and over. The 
pain was now almost unbearable.

He wondered how long it would be before 
Scully got worried, probably later this 
afternoon. He had called her from the car a
few minutes before arriving last night. She 
would respect him to call again this morning.

***

Walter Skinner had a bad feeling right in the 
pit of his stomach. He just couldn't shake 
it. It had to be Mulder. This was
definitely the Fox Mulder stomach upset. He 
would recognize the symptoms anywhere. Maybe 
he should call Fox at his
Mother's house. Then maybe he could actually 
get some work done here. He glanced over at 
the corner Mulder had
occupied last night. **My, oh my, that boy 
had an ass on him.**

*** 

"Mulder residence."

"Mrs. Mulder, this is Assistant Director 
Skinner. I wonder if I might have a word with 
Agent Mulder."

Silence.

"Mrs. Mulder? Is something wrong?"

"No . . . nothing. Nothing is wrong. It's 
just that Fox isn't available right now."

Skinner shivered as he suddenly broke out in 
a cold sweat.

"Mrs. Mulder where is Fox?"

He heard what sounded like a sob from the 
other end of the line, "It's for his own 
good. It has always been for his own good.
Bill always said . . . "

"Mrs. Mulder, where is Fox. I need to speak 
with him immediately."

Tina Mulder quietly hung up the phone. It 
*was* for his own good. Bill had always said 
it was necessary. And now Sam was
sure without this discipline Fox was going to 
get himself into trouble. Sam wouldn't lie to 
her. He wouldn't. But once he had .
. . once he had done something . . . oh, she 
just couldn't remember anymore. She needed 
another of her pills.

Mulder hung suspended from the garage 
ceiling. He was freezing. Yes, he remembered 
this. The sound of other kids laughing
and talking as they passed the house on 
Saturday afternoons. On their way to have fun 
while Fox hung bare and waiting for
his Father to administer his punishment. He 
would wait and wait, only his toes resting on 
the cold floor. Just like now. And
then his Dad would . . . would . . .

And sometimes there was that other man. The 
man who smoked so many cigarettes. Sam had 
liked the man but Fox hadn't
liked him at all. Not at all. The man had 
watched and smiled while his Dad had . . . 
had . . .

Saturday afternoons . . . quiet Saturday 
afternoons. And Mom, Mom has stood and 
watched too. She had not smiled but
she had watched. Watched while his naked skin 
reddened and blistered and he tried to 
control his screams. Couldn't scream,
all those kids outside. Couldn't scream. 
Couldn't let anyone hear him scream.

"Scully." It came out as no more than a 
whisper.

"I don't think she's coming Fox. She thinks 
you are having a nice visit with your mother. 
Tina spoke with her not an hour ago,
told her that you were going to have a nice 
lunch and then take your mother shopping. 
Isn't that nice?"

"Sc . . . Scully."

Cancerman was back with his two smug looking 
goons. **If I get loose from here I'm going 
to kill them first.**

"Remember this Fox?"

Oh God! Yes! He remembered it. The paddle. It 
was shaped like an innocent ping pong paddle 
but made of hard wood,
lovingly polished until it gleamed. It had 
Fox's name printed in neat red paint across 
the handle. Mulder shuddered. He
remembered it well.

"Bill told you he made this himself. He 
didn't, you know. I suspect you always 
wondered about that. How Bill could make
this fine paddle but never anything else. I 
made it. I was quite good with woodworking 
once." He stoked the smooth back of
the implement. "I chose the wood, sanded it, 
stained it and polished it to perfection. 
Notice the nice holes I drilled into the
surface. Beautiful work don't you think? I'm 
sure you never really appreciated it's beauty 
or its effectiveness. It's really a fine
piece of work, Fox, and I did it just for 
you."

He laid the paddle aside. "But I'm going to 
wait a little while to use it on you. First I 
have something you haven't seen before."
He picked up something from the workbench 
behind him. It was a small wooden handle that 
had long narrow strips of
leather hanging from it.

"It doesn't look like much does it? But used 
correctly it is quite effective and it is so 
light it can be used safely in places that
regular instruments of chastisement cannot. 
Very tender places.

He brought the little whip down hard across 
Mulder's chest. Mulder hissed through his 
teeth. It did sting more than it looked
like it would.

He raised it again and brought it down across 
Mulder's washboard stomach. Received another 
jerk and a hiss for his trouble.

He brought the whip back again and brought it 
down lower, right across Mulder's groin. The 
strips of leather wrapped
themselves around his penis and Mulder 
finally screamed.

***

Skinner had not bothered calling Scully. She 
would have found it difficult to get away 
from her class and Walter wasn't really
sure there was a problem. No need to bother 
her yet.

Mrs. Mulder had sounded vague and confused 
but after all, the woman was recovering from 
a stroke. And Mulder's cell
phone was turned off but he often forgot to 
recharge the battery when he was distracted 
by other things. It was something he
and Scully did for Mulder on a continuous 
basis. It was better to take care of it 
themselves than not be able to reach him like
this.

He would probably drive all this way only to 
find Mulder enjoying a nice day with his 
family. Then what would he say, "Oh
hello Mrs. Mulder. I'm sleeping with your son 
and when he didn't answer his cell phone I 
got worried. Sorry to disturb you."
Yeah, right.

***

Cancerman stood back and looked at Fox's 
beautiful body. It looked red and raw. 
Mulder's head had long ago slumped
onto his chest. The boy just didn't have 
enough stamina.

He stepped forward, took hold of Mulder's 
chin and lifted his head. He stepped forward 
once more and allowed Mulder's
head to fall forward again, this time onto 
his own shoulder. His arms slipped around the 
unconscious agent. He had never
gotten to hold Mulder like this. Fox had 
never trusted him. Samantha had. A few 
trinkets, a few compliments and Sam had
let him hold her and cuddle her. But not his 
Fox. He could have bought Fox the New York 
Yankee Baseball Team for his
very own and the boy would still have kept 
his distance. Paranoid little shit. **That's 
my boy.**

Sam ran his hands through Mulder's soft brown 
hair. Such nice hair. So like his mother's. 
And those lips. Mulder looked so
much like Tina had when Sam had first met 
her. Fox was, of course, more masculine with 
a bigger nose but still the
resemblance was enough to make Cancerman 
aroused.

Tina had lost her fire. Her independence and 
strong will crushed by a domineering husband 
and too much tragedy. But Fox.
Fox still had his fire. More passion than 
anyone he had ever seen. And . . . Sam 
suspected that Walter Skinner had
acquainted the boy with the pleasures of sex 
with anther man. Fox wasn't gay. He was sure 
of that. But there was certainly
something between him and Skinner. He 
shrugged, it didn't matter really. If the boy 
was a virgin, so be it, that had never
stopped Sam Fox before.

Mulder started to stir. He hurt. His skin 
burned all over and he could smell stale 
cigarette smoke.

"Dad?"

He heard Cancerman laugh as he stepped away 
from him. Then anther smell assaulted him. 
Smelling salts. Ugh! He gagged
and coughed, pulling back as far as possible 
from the awful stuff. He opened his eyes and 
stared into another set of hazel
eyes, not two inches away from his face.

"Welcome back, Son."

"Get . . . get away from me."

"Still no respect for your elders. Too bad." 
He turned to the other men. "Help Mr. Mulder 
onto the workbench."

The two MIBs stepped forward and soon a 
weakened Mulder found himself securely 
fastened face down across his Father's
seldom used workbench. **I've been here 
before, too.**

Cancerman tested Mulder's binds then told the 
other two men to leave them alone. They 
seemed reluctant to leave.

Cancerman ran his hand down Mulder's hip and 
watched the young man shudder. He pulled a 
tube of lubricant from his
pocket and applied it to his fingers.

"Do you like anal sex, Fox."

"Get away from me. Don't touch me. Get away, 
you filthy, chain smoking Son of a Bitch."

Cancerman calmly reached around him and 
picked up the paddle he had laid there 
earlier. "Tisk, tisk Fox. Such language
and with your dear mother sleeping just 
upstairs."

He hefted the paddle in his hand, enjoying 
the weight and feel of the hand crafted piece 
of wood. He then brought it down
powerfully on Mulder's sore backside.

"Ah-h-h-h, God."

The paddle landed again, harder than before. 
Mulder bucked and twisted but he was bound 
too tightly. He had no place to
go.

The paddle struck again and then again. 
Leaving burning, bruising patches of deep 
pain in it's wake. Mulder had firmly
believed that his backside could not possibly 
hurt more than it already did. He had been so 
wrong.

This paddle was torture. It always had been. 
From that first night his Father had used it 
on him, he had feared it above
everything else. That paddle had always 
seemed to be evil, having a life of it's own. 
Biting harder and hurting longer than was
naturally possible.

And, he remembered, this paddle was what his 
mother had used on him. When his father was 
not home, he expected his wife
to maintain discipline. On his son, not on 
his precious daughter, thank goodness. 
Samantha was never beaten. So when
Mulder exasperated his Mother, she got out 
this paddle and tanned his butt. No matter 
who used it, it always left him in tears
and unable to sit down.

*** 

As Walter got closer to Tina Mulder's house, 
he became more uneasy. No one was answering 
the phone there now. They
could just be out somewhere but still he was 
worried. He stepped on the gas a little 
harder. He would think of something to
explain his presence to the woman. It would 
be worth it to see Mulder and make sure he 
was all right.

*** 

Mulder felt the nicotine yellowed fingers rub 
the lubricant into him. This was going to 
kill him. He would not survive this. That
black lunged bastard was going to rape him 
and he had no way to stop him. He had tried 
to yell for help and now he had a
dirty rag shoved into his mouth. He wondered 
how long it had been out here and what was on 
it. It tasted foul.

"Fox, will you relax. I don't think this is 
your first time. What could you possibly see 
in Walter Skinner by the way?" Mulder
forgot how to breath.

He was pushing two fingers inside now. Oh 
this boy was so hot and so wonderfully tight. 
Maybe he didn't sleep with Skinner
after all. He heard Mulder moan.

"Fox, I always loved your mother. We had a 
misunderstanding. A silly fight really. I had 
to go to Russia for a short time and
when I returned she had married Bill."

He now had three fingers buried in Mulder.

"She knew she had made a mistake almost 
immediately. But in those days you didn't 
just go get a divorce and of course
there was the baby, you Fox, to think about.

"He pistoned his fingers in and out of the 
hot opening. This was so much better than he 
had even imagined. **What an ass on
this boy.**

Mulder was gagging. If he vomited now, he 
would choke on it. He fought the nausea. He 
couldn't stand the thought of this
man's hands on him. He couldn't stand what 
this man was saying about his mother. She had 
been pregnant with him when she
married Bill Mulder. Pregnant by whom. Oh 
God!

He could be having sex with his own father 
right now. No, no he could be raped by his 
own father right now. He had sex
with Scully and he had sex with Walter. He 
made love to them and they made love to him. 
This was very different. This was
rape. He had to remember that.

He heard a zipper lowered. He bucked against 
the ropes holding him and tried to cry for 
help through the gag. He could not
let this happen. He absolutely could not let 
this happen.

"Uhh . . . Sir."

"What do you want. I told you not to disturb 
me."

"Sorry Sir. I had to tell you. Walter Skinner 
is reported to be approaching. ETA in less 
than fifteen minutes. He got through
our first surveillance location unnoticed."

Samuel Fox pulled his slickened fingers out 
of the shuddering body under him. "Damn it. 
Damn it all to hell. I should have
killed that man when I had the chance. All 
right, bring the car around. We can't let him 
see us and we can't kill him in this
house."

Mulder sighed with relief as Cancerman and 
his two seedy sidekicks made a speedy 
retreat. **Wish they had untied me first
and *what* is on this rag.** He suddenly 
released a breath he hadn't known he was 
holding and was surprised to feel tears
rolling down his cheeks. He sobbed into the 
rough wood of that hated workbench.

*** 

Skinner rang the doorbell. He rang it several 
times before he resigned himself to the fact 
that no one was going to answer it.
Just as he turned away to wait in his car, he 
heard a muffled sound coming from inside. He 
put his ear against the door. He
heard it again. He lifted his head. It 
sounded like it was coming from the garage. 
Maybe just a cat or something.

He rang the bell again. Suddenly the door 
opened just a crack and a tired blue eye 
peered out at him.

"Can . . . can I help . . . you?"

"Mrs. Mulder, it's Assistant Director 
Skinner. Are you all right, where is Fox?"

*** 

Skinner was horrified to find Mulder in the 
garage. Tied across a table, beaten and 
sobbing his heart out. And, Oh God,
there was lubricant all over his backside. 
Please, no, please.

SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! Scully was right, Mulder 
could get into trouble while singing in the 
church choir on Easter Sunday with a
full congregation watching.

How many other people were raped and beaten 
when they went to visit their Mother. While, 
it appeared, said mother was
sleeping off the effect of some pretty 
powerful drug.

His fingers fumbled as he tried to untie the 
knots. Mulder had started mumbling and 
sobbing the moment he had removed that
repulsive cloth from his mouth. Walter had so 
far not been able to understand a word that 
he said.

He gently lifted Mulder down from the table 
and into his arms. Sitting on the hard 
concrete and cradling the trembling man in
his lap.

"Sh-h-h-. It okay. It's going to be okay. 
Mulder, just calm down. I'm here now. Can you 
tell me who did this to you?"

"He . . . he said his name was Fo . . . Fox. 
His name is Fox. Do you und . . . understand 
wh . . . what that means? Fox. He
used to watch. He was watching when . . . Dad 
. . . why did you let him watch like that." A 
shudder ran through Mulder's
body.

Skinner knew he had to get him out of this 
chilly garage and into the house. And he had 
a few important questions for Mrs.
Mulder, too.

"Sh-h-h- Fox, it's okay. We can talk about it 
later. Can you walk?"

"Cancer . . . Cancerman. His name is Fox." A 
big sob. "He knew my mother and his name is 
Fo . . . Fox."

Skinner stared down at him, "He did this to 
you. Did he rape you, Mulder?" He didn't 
really want to know. But he had to
ask, he couldn't help himself. If that man 
had raped Mulder, Skinner planned to kill him 
on sight. Career be damned. Even if
he spent the rest of his life in prison, he 
would kill that man.

"No . . . no, didn't have time. They knew you 
were coming."

Skinner slumped with relief. Thank God, he 
had not waited longer to come here. It would 
have been so easy to ignore his gut
feeling and just stay at the office where he 
belonged. He hugged Mulder tighter and kissed 
his forehead.

Skinner rose from the floor, wrestling Mulder 
with him until he could lift the younger man 
into his arms.

"I...I can walk."

"I know. Just let me do this. You can walk to 
the car later."

***

Mulder lay on his Mother's couch. Clean, his 
wounds dressed, and warm at last.

He stared into Walter's brown eyes, "You know 
we can't do anything about this. He knows 
about us. He would ruin us
before we had a chance to ruin him. We have 
no proof. Just my word and everyone knows 
I've always hated him. *You* .. .
can't do anything to him."

Skinner sighed and averted his eyes, "I know. 
It's just that . . . " Mulder laid his hand 
on Walter's warm muscular arm.

"It's fine, really. I managed to get back 
some old memories, without getting holes 
drilled in my head this time." Mulder
laughed as his boss rolled his eyes at him. 
"And now I'm reasonably sure Scully will 
forgive me for that Arkansas thing. She
hates it when someone else hurts me. She 
thinks of that as her designated job."

"What about your Mom, do you blame her?"

Now it was Mulder's turn to look away. "No, 
she's always been kind of delicate. I've 
ended up taking care of her more than
she's taken care of me. She thought she was 
doing what was best for me. It's what Dad 
always told her needed to be done.
Keeping me on the straight and narrow."

"Fat chance of that." Mulder chuckled at his 
comment. It sounded so good to Skinner to 
hear him laugh.

"Have you called Scully?"

"Oh, Yeah."

"She take it badly?"

"I told her you didn't recognize the 
assailant. I did not want a one woman posse 
out looking for Cancerman. No man should
have to face that, not even him."

"Scully's never going to buy that. I was in 
Mom's house in Chilmark. What kind of an 
unknown assailant would break in to
sleeping woman's home just to rape her FBI 
Agent son?"

"Well then, you think of something."

"Not my problem."

"What! You're in this too."

"No, I'm not."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm the victim here. I don't remember a 
thing. You're on your own, Big Guy."

"You aren't going to help me, are you?"

"No, not a chance."

Skinner laid his head in his hands. **He was 
doomed.**

End Twelve