By Karoshi
Karoshi12@Ameritech.net

Disclaimer:  All X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013
and Fox Network.  The creation of this fiction is a result of the f
act that I have way too much time on my hands on a Saturday night.
 No profit will be earned as a result of this work (like that needed to be
said).

Classification:  Vignette/Angst

Warnings:  First attempt at fan fiction, that should be warning enough.

Spoilers:  Slight reference to The Pusher.

Summary:    Mulder, betrayed by those closest to him, attempts to
disappear and begin a new life.  How does he deal with the loss
the only life he ever knew?  Can he leave his search for the truth behind?

Rating:  R (mostly language)

Title:   FOX the Fugitive

It was happening again, he kept losing focus, having difficulty
remembering where he was and  what was expected of him.
He shook his head slightly, hoping it would clear.  Damn,
who could blame him, seven weeks on this last case, seven weeks of
minimum eighteen hour workdays and the little bit of time
reserved for sleep had brought him, as usual,  no comfort.
Wasn't a man's mind entitled to become a bit foggy about a few
details after such an experience?

He was tired, but hell,  he should be tired.  Sneaking a peek
over at Scully's desk he found her  watching him again.
She looked down quickly when she saw she had been caught.
Why does she keep looking at me like I'm, I'm.....deep breath
Mulder, just calm down, finish up the paperwork on this one
and head home, home to your dark, quiet apartment.  Home
where, unless someone is trying to kill you, people leave you
alone.   Forcing his shoulders back, fingers resting on the
keyboard, he glared at the report on the screen.  Let's go
Mulder, keep your head down, don't say anything, finish
the report, get it to Skinner and go home.

Dana Scully, hoping Mulder wouldn't notice, studied him.
This last case had been rough, a devil-worshipping serial killer.
When all was said and done, nine people had died including
a detective who had been assigned to assist them.  Strange,
this was the first case in a long time where Mulder actually
came out uninjured.  Throughout the horror he had pushed
almost everyone away, yes, he had definitely earned his
"Spooky" name on this last one.  While cops with 30 years
on the job broke down like babies when confronted with the
horror of those crime scenes, Mulder stood calm.  He walked
among the carnage examining every detail, inhaling every
scent, never betraying any emotion to those around him.
He had done an amazing job but Mulder, being Mulder,
felt that he had taken too long, seven weeks was inexcusable
in his mind and people had died because of his inability
to put it together sooner.  Yes, Mulder may have escaped
this last case physically unharmed but emotionally,  well
that was another story.  He looked like crap, dark circles
under his eyes, shoulders slumped and strangest of all,
nervous and, dare she say it, paranoid, well more paranoid
than usual.  He hadn't spoken a word in  two hours, just
kept typing away at the report, driving himself to get it done.
He was obviously absorbed in his work yet there was
something about the set of his shoulders that didn't seem
right to her, what was going through that  Mulder brain?

"Mulder".  No response.

"Mulder",  again no response, no acknowledgment that
he had heard her.

Okay, now she was getting concerned.  Enough was enough.
Scully put down the file she was reviewing and walked over
to his desk.  Placing her hand gently on his shoulder, she was
startled  when he jumped up, causing his chair to tumble.  Eyes
wild, he pushed himself up against the wall, hand tightening
on  his weapon.

"Mulder, what the hell is going on," shouted Scully?

She was frightened, not for herself, she knew he wouldn't hurt
her, but for him.  She had seen him like this before, exhausted,
angry, seemingly detached from the world around him.  He
was extremely thin, she'd hardly gotten him to eat a thing
during their last case and the weight loss showed in the
loose fit of his suit.  And then there was Samantha...

Mulder, not really clear on what had just happened either,
breathed deeply and willed his pulse to slow down.   He
closed his eyes and released his grip on his gun.

"Scully, you scared the hell out of me", he attempted a smile,
running his hands nervously through his hair.  As he met her eyes,
he thought, oh no here it comes.

Scully approached him slowly.   Instinctively, he stepped back,
only to find the wall blocking his way.  Silently, looking him
deep in the eyes, she reached up and placed her hand on his
forehead, warm, but not feverish.

"Mulder", she said, her hand slipping down a bit to caress his
cheek,  "I'm really worried about you."

He stared back at her for a moment, then reached up and removed
her hand.  She was  close, too close.  She knew him better than
most, who was he kidding, probably knew him best of all but
right now she was just too damn close.  Releasing her hand, he
stepped behind her putting the desk  between them before he spoke.

"I'm fine Scully, just a bit worn out...tired",  rubbing his neck
tensely as if to prove his point.    It isn't as if there's been much
down time lately.  I just need to finish this report and get  out of here. "

As he spoke his eyes ran over the walls of their office, when did it
get so small?  How was it that he could spend hours, sometimes
days down here digging through file after file.  He knew he had
but for the life of him, right now, at this moment in time he
couldn't figure out how or.........why?

She stepped back sensing if she pushed she would  be pushing him
away, not pulling him back.  She needed time to plan her approach.
Looking up, she gave him her most sincere smile and said "okay,
Mulder, I understand.  You're right, this case was stressful and we
both deserve a little time off.  I just know it's been a bit harder on
you since," she hesitated as she saw his face freeze, "well, since
they found Samantha's body."

He closed his eyes, silently willing her to be still.  He could hear
her speak but the words seemed to slur into long, incomprehensible
sentences.

 " It really was too soon for you to go out on another case, you
hardly had time to grieve."  She stepped closer, hoping he'd take
the shoulder she was offering.   As she moved in, he flinched back.

Sad hazel eyes locked with hers, "I've been grieving for Samantha
all my life, I can't  help her anymore.  I was able to  help those
people in Seattle, Scully, we needed to catch that monster!"

"Mulder, you know I don't disagree, if you hadn't been there
he would still be out there butchering innocent people."

"Skinner was right to send us Scully, I was needed," he insisted.

"Oh Mulder, you're always needed," she assured.

He wrapped his arms around himself his eyes bright with unshed
tears, he wore his emotions so plainly on his sleeve it was almost
painful to watch.

"Mulder, " she said softly, "have you given any more thought
about  talking to someone?"

"I talk to people all them time Scully," deliberately misunderstanding
her statement, he sat down and began to type (stop talking Scully,
stop talking).

"Mulder",  no answer.

 "Fox", his eyes shot up to meet hers .  She leaned over his desk,
inches from his face.

Damn, why does she have to get so close, I don't want anyone this
close, not anymore.  Back away Scully, back away.  Rolling his chair
back a few feet,  he sighed, "Yes Scully, I have given some thought to
talking to someone and I've decided that it is simply not necessary."

She raised her eyebrow at his response but refused to move away from him.

" I'm a big boy, a psychologist, very aware of who I am and my long
laundry list of personal problems."  Taking a deep breath, he continued,
" I understand that the finding of my sister's body shuts the door on a
chapter in my life that has motivated me to live the way I have all
these years.  I accept that I see shadows around every corner,
conspiracies apparently everywhere."

Feeling somewhat on the defensive, she pulled back.  She attempted
to interrupt but he wouldn't let her.  He was upset, angry and so very
tired  of being simultaneously patronized, humored and ridiculed.

Standing now, he continued, "no  Scully,  do not interrupt, you
wanted to know, you insisted."

She stepped back further from him feeling as though she'd been
burned.

 He continued, "if anyone in this world has a right to be screwed
up, it's me.  My life reads like some freaking side show and yes,
I accept that.  I accept that sometimes after a case when I've had
to practically perform a fucking Vulcan mind meld with a psycho
who enjoys sacrificing his victims to his vision of Satan."
Miserably,  he added, "he peeled off their skin Scully, while
they were still alive!"

She nodded, she knew this, she had the grisly task of performing the
autopsies.

He gulped at the air, wiping the sweat from his face with his sleeve.
"I accept that having an alcoholic, cold father who...," he stopped
suddenly terrified of what he had been about to reveal.

Scully stunned, clearly understanding what he had just disclosed,
reached her hand out to him, wanting, needing to offer him some
comfort.

Ignoring her offer, he stumbled on, "who... who ignored me
throughout my childhood,  that maybe I might feel guilty and
angry, accepting all the blame for Samantha.  I accept all this
Scully every single day and still I get up.  I can't figure out how
but  I get up and come to work and try to perform a service that
somewhere down the line will help someone, will answer
unanswered questions."

Pointing his finger at her accusingly, "what I do NOT accept is
the constant invasion into my head by government- funded
shrinks, by every emergency room doctor that stabs me with
needles full of mind-dulling drugs but most especially by you!
Jesus Scully, the last time you wouldn't let them release me
for a week, what gives you that right," he demanded harshly.
He was near crying now, he could feel the tears burning his
eyes, begging to be released.  His head, God his head, not
now, not now.  He collapsed against the nearest wall, his
knees bending awkwardly as he slid to the floor cradling
his head in both hands.  "Just take me", he moaned,
"what the hell are you waiting for, just take me, stop
this pain."

The room fell silent, silent except for the sound of the two
agents breathing, the sound of a partnership shattering into
pieces.  Scully, overwhelmed and confused by where this
had all led just stared.  She stared down at this man, this
scared and, in her eyes, broken man.  She was hurt, his words
had stung.  She knew her natural tendency was to observe for
faults, cracks in him but only because she cared.  She felt a
strong commitment to keeping this man safe and well.  He had
saved her life almost as  many times as he put it in danger.  He
would think nothing of giving his life to save hers.  She loved
him, no, not as a lover although there was a time early in their
relationship that she wondered about the possibility.  But over
time, she found him too unpredictable, one minute wonderfully
charming, the next deeply moody.  It was not unusual for
Mulder to run the gamut of all possible emotions in a day,
hell, who was she kidding, in an hour.  He was a highly intelligent,
complex man whose lifestyle and way of looking at the world
would never allow her the kind of life she eventually wanted.
She put him in the "no" box of possible lover/husband and at
the same time put him in her heart as her friend, her best friend.
Over time he had become so much more than even that, he
was her partner, protector, father and  brother.  The label
didn't matter, it was how she felt and right now, as hurt as
she was, she still supported and believed in him.  Right now
she knew,  even without her medical degree that Fox Mulder
was very close to meltdown.

Too much had happened to this man in too short of a time.  His
sister Samantha had been found, body positively identified by
dental records.  The body appeared to be approximately 15 years
of age and it left one wondering what her life must have been
like from the time she was taken to her death.  The autopsy
was straight forward, evidence pointed to a broken neck as
cause of death.  Bones indicated malnutrition, deficiencies and
there was other evidence of experimentation, abuse, evidence
that she would never fully share with him. She'd never rethis piece of
information could be the one thing that pushed him
over into the darkness.  This could be the reason he searched for
to put the gun up to his head and pull the trigger. She still had
nightmares of him doing just that when Modell controlled his
mind.   If she felt he would accept it she would wrap him up in
her arms and hold tight, let him lean on her for a while.  If only
he could  let it go, share with her what he was feeling, but  Mulder,
especially this Mulder slumped to the office floor,  would not let
her get that close.  She hadn't missed the way he flinched every
time she came near.   She had to get him help, help to come to
terms with all that had happened.  She would never be able to
forgive herself if something were to happen to him and she
had not tried to protect him.  Skinner, she though, she would
talk to Skinner, he would know how to handle this.   He seemed
to understand Mulder, always seemed to know just how much
rope to let him have before he pulled him back.   Maybe together,
she and Skinner could pull him back.

A sniffle, a deep groan, Scully saw him push himself off the
wall to stand.   She didn't move to help him.  After a moment
he looked up and began to walk towards her.  She stood her ground,
if he needed her, she would be there despite all the
painful things he had said.

"Scully," Mulder reached out to touch her shoulder, leaned
down to look her in the eyes.  His eyes  tired and cloudy.
"Scully", shaking her shoulder,  "I'm sorry,  I had no right to
explode that way.  Please, please don't be angry, please don't ,"
his words stuck in his throat, don't what Mulder, what don't
you want her to do?

 Scully covered  his hand with hers and squeezed gently.
She noticed he was trembling slightly.  "It's okay Mulder,
I understand."

He looked at her a moment longer, was it fear she saw
in his eyes, now why would he be afraid of her?

"Mulder, we're both", a pause as she searched for the word, "
stressed.   This was a tough one, let's just get this information
to Skinner, close the drawer and go home.   I won't push you
anymore tonight."

Mulder nodded and  slowly returned to his desk, sat down and
again  began to type.  The words on the screen meant nothing
What did she mean, won't push anymore tonight?.  Shaking his
head in an effort to pull himself into now, he said, "I have about
another 20-30minutes of work here", again typing, "why don't
you go up and summarize it all for Skinner, I'll walk in, drop
 the words on his desk and we'll be walking out of there in
record time."

Scully didn't argue, this would give her a few minutes to talk to
Skinner before he joined them.  With Skinner's help she knew
they could help him.  Quickly gathering the files she had
organized, she slipped them under her arm and headed for
the door.  "Okay Mulder but don't leave me hanging in there
too long, I'll expect you in about 30 minutes, deal?"

Head down, small smile on his face, he shook his head, "deal
Scully, I'll be there as quickly as possible."  Mulder began
furiously typing as Scully let herself out the door.  When he
heard the door close, his fingers slowed, then stopped completely.
Exhausted, he put his head down on his arms and wept.

************
Skinner's office always reminded her of her high school principal's
office.   She couldn't shake the feeling that she was in trouble whenever
she needed to meet with him.  Funny how childhood memories haunt
you forever, even the trivial ones.  Frowning she thought of Mulder's
childhood memories, would he ever be able to leave them behind?

Skinner stood as she entered the office, frowning he looked behind
her and demanded, "where's Mulder?"

Clearing her throat, Scully, tensely replied, "well sir, he's just
finishing up the paperwork, he should be joining us shortly.
But sir, before he does, I need to ask for your help."

Skinner, never breaking eye contact, sat down.  He sensed
Scully was deeply disturbed by something, her lower lip was
shaking slightly and she was having trouble meeting his eyes.
"What is it Scully or should I say, who is it?"

"Sir, you know I would never betray a confidence unless," she
paused. Skinner leaned forward, "unless?"

"Unless I truly felt that more harm would come of me not
speaking than if I do," she rushed to finish.

"It's Mulder, isn't it, what's he done now," he sighed.

"No, no sir it's not what he's done, it's what I fear he may do,"
openly fighting back tears now Scully continued.  "Sir, I believe
Mulder may be close to an emotional breakdown,  he appears to
be losing his grip on reality, fading in and out.......I'm afraid of
what he might do."    There, she had said it, sorry Mulder but I
can't let this happen.

Skinner sat back heavily in his chair.  He knew what it took for
Scully to come to him with this. He knew that she would not
be saying these words if she did not believe he was a risk
to himself.  Mulder and Scully shared a partnership like none
he had ever seen and it must be breaking her, killing her to
reveal this information.

Now Mulder, thought Skinner,  he was a  difficult man to read.
How many times ( he had lost count), had he stood in front of
Skinner's desk and attempted to convince him of his theories,
his incredible, eccentric theories.  And of all those times, how
many times had he been right?  The boy, no strike that, man
was an investigative genius there was no one who, knowing Fox
Mulder, could deny this but never before had he met so fragile a
human being.   Fragile yet resilient, was this possible?  How
many times had Mulder returned from a case broken and
bruised.  How many insurance claims had been filed in his
name and still he kept coming back for more.  Skinner knew
Mulder's file from memory, he knew things that weren't in
his file, the abuse suffered at the hands of his father for one.
He knew of the injuries that had plagued the young Fox.
Sometimes he wondered if Mulder wasn't just destined
to relive his childhood over and over only this time, instead
of his father beating him, criticizing him, it was the world.
>From the criminals he pursued to his insensitive coworkers,
Scully excluded of course, this man took a beating every day.
And only recently the one thing that seemed to keep him going,
the one quest he never tired of was taken away from him.
Samantha found,  a chapter finally closed, but was Mulder
strong enough to move on?  It appeared not without some help.

"Agent Scully... Dana, what do you think needs to happen,
how can we help him?"

"Sir, as much as I know he will hate it, fight it, I think he
needs some time away.  I think he needs a place where he
can safely confront his emotions."

Skinner shifted uncomfortably, this didn't feel right.  He
trusted Scully and her assessment of her partner.  He knew
her medical background would never allow her to suggest
such a thing without careful thought.  He was uncomfortable
because he knew Scully had understated what Mulder's
reaction would be to such a suggestion.  Mulder had a deep-
seated fear of hospitals and all that came with them.  Just
the mention of drug therapy, counseling or worse,
even the slightest possibility of restraints would send him
flying.

Shaking his head, Skinner replied, "he'll  never agree."

"Sir, he would never agree to go on my say but maybe
together,  we could confront him, make him understand it's
for his own good," openly crying now, "sir, I just don't want
to see him hurt himself and I think he's very close to
doing just that."

Skinner stood and crossed over to Scully, kneeling down in
front of her he took her hands.  "Scully, if need be I'll order
him to go.  I would never be able to live with myself if I let
that happen.  I'll talk to medical in the morning, if all goes
well, we'll have him scheduled for a session by the afternoon
and, if advised so,  admitted.  Don't worry Scully", releasing
her hands, he stood, "we'll get him through this."

Outside of Skinner's office, Mulder leaned heavily
against the wall.  He struggled with his rage, fighting
dark waves of  desperation.  How could she, how could
she betray him like this?  They would take him,  they
would  drug him, make him talk of things he couldn't,
no wouldn't, reveal.  Well fuck all of them, he was not
going, he would not be locked away until someone else
said he could go.  He would never again allow himself
to be put in that position.   His head was throbbing, he
reached out to block the light with his hand and groaned
aloud.

Skinner's voice called from the office, "who's there?"

Mulder straightened, wiped the tears from his face and
stepped into the doorway.  He'd be damned if he would
let them win,  he would not  let them see, they would
never know how much their words, their planned actions
had hurt him.  If they knew, they wouldn't let him leave
tonight, he needed to play it cool here... stay calm.  He
took a deep breath and looked up to meet Skinner's eyes.

"Mulder, come in, uh", looking quickly at Scully, "how
long have you been out there?"

Calm, stay calm, "sir", entering the office,  "I just arrived",
looking down at Scully, he smiled.  "Sorry I'm late Scully,
had a bit more to finish than I thought."

Skinner studied him closely, Scully was right, he looked bad.
His hair, overgrown, fell carelessly across his forehead, his eyes
red, Skinner could see he had been crying.  Damn, why him, why
do so many bad things happen to this man?

 "Sit down Agent Mulder, you and Agent Scully have
been gone for quite a while, let's take a few minutes to catch up."

"Sir, is it possible you missed us, now that would be an X-file",

Mulder  laughed.  His laughter was choked, that of a man
trying way too hard to be perceived as normal.

Skinner picked up on it immediately, "now Mulder," smiling
sadly,  "I wouldn't go that far."   He took the file from Mulder
noticing as he did that Mulder's hands were trembling ever
so slightly.  A less observant man would probably not have
noticed, hell he probably wouldn't have noticed if not for his
conversation with Scully. "Relax,  Mulder, let me take a
minute to look this over."

Mulder clutched the chair arms tightly as he sat down.

"So, are you both looking forward to a little R&R before your
next case," asked Skinner casually.

Mulder's head snapped up, what the fuck, what the fuck, he raged.
His head was ready to explode.  The two people he thought he
could trust most in the world were planning to have him
committed and Skinner was making  small talk.  Fists clenched,
he inhaled deeply, obviously fighting for control.  Calm down
Mulder, stay calm, if you don't stay calm they won't let  you out
of here.  Suddenly remembering the comments he had  overheard
from the outer office,  he smiled, "well sir, that's exactly what I
had in mind, in fact with your permission, I was thinking about
taking the next few days off .  Skinner and Scully looked at each
other in panic.  "You know sir, catch up on some sleep, clean out
the old refrigerator, scoop out my fish", his voice softened, somehow
the thought of his fish, stuck in that tank relying completely on
someone else to keep their home clean and them fed reminded him
too much of ....of .....of what,  he looked up quickly at the sound of
 Skinner's voice.  Damn he was going to cry again, he rubbed at his
eyes with his fists.  What did he care about those fish, they were just
fish, not worth crying over.  When he looked up again, Skinner
leaning over him and  Scully had her hand on his arm.  He squinted
at Skinner forcing himself to hear what he was saying.  Quickly
pulling his arm away from Scully, he missed the hurt in her eyes.
"Sorry sir, I guess I'm  more tired than I thought, do you mind if we
cut this short, I really need to sleep," as if to emphasize his point he
again rubbed his eyes, rubbed them until he was sure no evidence of
the tears that had threatened to fall.

Skinner was shocked, he had never seen Mulder so emotionally
exposed.  He looked over at Scully who sat silent, white as a sheet.
It was up to him to take control of this situation, Mulder was his
agent, his responsibility but more important than that, he cared
about Mulder.  Sometimes he looked so young, so alone he wanted
to  lean over and hold him as a father would hold a son.  He knew
he would never act on his impulse, knew Mulder would not know
what a father's touch was, so he would do what was his duty to do,
protect his agent even if that protection was needed from the agent
themselves.

"Mulder, I'll make you a deal,"  the agent looked up at Skinner
expectantly,  "you and Scully take off now and get some sleep."
Mulder rose preparing to leave immediately.  "Agent Mulder,
I still need to review your report with both of you so  plan on
coming in for a few hours tomorrow to provide status on this case.
Once we're done you can both take a few days off."

"Sir", Mulder blinked rapidly at the bright lights in the room, "would
it...would it be all right if I arrived a bit later. I'd like to sleep in."

Skinner stared, did Mulder know, after all, the kid's nickname was
Spooky?  He hesitated and examined Mulder closely.  It was clear
he was  exhausted when Mulder actually planned to oversleep.
Reluctantly, he agreed,  "sure Mulder, get some sleep, but be in
my office  by 1:00pm SHARP, don't keep me waiting!"  Mulder
backed his way to the door, "no sir, I'll be here... Scully, you coming?"

"I'm going straight out," she replied, " see you tomorrow and Mulder,"

He stopped by the door, leaning heavily against its' frame, hair
mussed, sad eyes, he looked beat, "take care of yourself, get
some sleep," she added.

"Sure Scully, how could I not?"  Mulder was almost completely
out the door now, close, very close to escape.

"Mulder," Scully called unwilling to let him go.

Mulder's head popped back around the door, "yah Scully?"

She gazed at him protectively, "never mind, just get some rest, you
know I worry."  Go on, she waved him out, "good night".  She sat back
 

down as he once again began to leave.

"Okay", he called, "good bye Scully, Skinner"  and with
that he was gone.

Scully put her head in her hands and began to cry.  Skinner moved
to hold her and together they grieved for the pain of their friend.

Mulder quickly made his way back to his office.  Any tiredness he
felt had been replaced by a surge of energy so intense it nearly knocked
him off his feet.  Entering his office he stood silent for a moment his
mind mentally reviewing every item.  There was work to do, much
work to do.  Before he began the task of determining what he would
take and what he would leave, he walked over to his "I Want to Believe"
poster.  Standing silently in front of it he thought of all the things he
had ever believed in, his family, a lying mother, an angry abusive
father and a sister, the only goodness in his life, swept away by a
conspiracy as yet unsolved.  He thought of his belief in alien life
and his other paranormal discoveries.  He thought of Deep Throat
Skinner and Scully.  He laughed, not that small choking laugh he
had tried to pull off in Skinner's office, but a hearty chuckle.  He
reached for the poster and in one sweeping motion ripped it from the
wall.  Crumpling it up in a small ball, he shoved it roughly
into his trash bin.  "I don't want to believe in anything anymore,
believing is just too hard."  With that task done, he began to pack
up the items most important to him.

It was around 1:00am when he finally left the building.
Over his shoulder was a large, over-stuffed canvas briefcase.
The guard, used to this agent's irregular hours, barely noticed
as he walked by.  There was a strange one all right, a certified
nut.  That man worked all hours and from the looks of it he
takes enough work home with him to never sleep.   Shaking
his head, the guard sat back and continued to read his paper.

************
She stared at herself in her bathroom mirror.  She too was
exhausted but unfortunately, sleep had not come last night.
No matter how tired she was she couldn't get the picture of
Mulder, slumped to the floor, head cradled in his hands, out
of her head.  Then later in Skinner's office a few times she feared
he must know.  She sat so quietly because she was afraid
if she spoke she would say or do something that would take
him further away from her.   She rinsed her face with cool
water, willing herself to calm down.  God she hoped she was
doing the right thing, Mulder would never forgive her if she
was wrong, hell he's not going to forgive you if  you're right.
Give it up Dana, get up, get dressed and go into work.

************
Mulder had still not slept, it was as if all need for sleep or food had
completely disappeared in his panic to escape.   Every time he began
to feel tired his memory conjured up images of previous visits when
they had tied him down, when they had....."stop," he shouted out loud,
" it doesn't matter anymore!"   Nothing was holding him here anymore,
Sam was dead and his mother had not shown any interest in his
condition since Sam disappeared.   He no longer believed he would
ever know the whole truth about Sam's disappearance.  No, nothing
was holding him here anymore, no one.

Next to the door lay an overstuffed duffel bag.  Everything that
was important to him was in that bag.  There wasn't much, some
clothes, his photographs.  He had packed his laptop and the many
disks he had taken from his office in a backpack designed solely
for that purpose.  He also stashed an envelope full of various Ids
knowing they would be making some attempt to find him.   A few
bags of seeds and his preparations were complete.

The energy that had served him so well throughout the night was
beginning to fade.  All he wanted to do was curl up on his couch and
rest.  Why couldn't they leave him alone?  Alone was okay, alone was
actually good, alone didn't get you hurt, alone didn't let you trust people
only to be horribly disappointed and terrified by what good friends
would do for you. Right now, the Cigarette Smoking Man would be
welcome compared to Skinner and Scully's plans for the day.
Without realizing it, he found himself sitting on the edge of his sofa.
He ran his long fingers gently over its' leather .  He'd miss this couch,
truth be told it had provided him with more comfort than any human
ever had.

He stood and walked one more time throughout his apartment.  He
knew this was the last time he would be here.  The bathroom was
stripped clean of toiletries, dirty towels ignored in a heap on the floor.
His unused bedroom offered nothing, he quickly scanned the closet
again.  His suits hung neatly, some still in the dry cleaners bags.  He
had shoved one suit with a few dress shirts and several ties in his bag.
It would be badly wrinkled but one never knew when a suit was needed,
his mother had taught him that.  He quickly moved through the
kitchen and then to his living room.  Never had a room been
more appropriately name since indeed Mulder had lived in this room.
His tapes lay in disarray on the floor, the tv even now hummed quietly,
strangely comforting.  He stepped over to his fish tank and examined
the little ones closely.  Reaching over he grabbed their food and fed
them for the last time, amazingly enough they had survived his last
case, a kind neighbor had actually fed them as he asked.  He worried
as to who would take care of them.  Without thinking, he reached for a
pen and paper, wrote a note and taped it to the tank.  Scully wouldn't
mind, after all she would have lots of free time now that he wouldn't
be around any more.  Satisfied, he took one more look around, hefted
his bags and left.

Mulder tossed his bags into the back seat of  his rental car.  He had
leased it under one of his false Ids having the company deliver the
car just a few blocks from his home.  He was living dangerously now,
he didn't even buy the supplemental insurance.   Beyond tired, he
chuckled quietly, "oh yah Mulder, FBI's best profiler ever, chaser
of serial killers and mutant sewer creatures, fuck the extra car insurance.
You're living on the edge now."

He started the car,  "Born to be Wild"  blared on the radio.  Reaching to
turn it down, he stopped short and decided to let it wail.  As he pulled
away from his apartment, he began to sing with the song.

Over the next two hours Mulder had visited two banks and one safe
deposit box.  He closed both his accounts and emptied out his personal
papers and still more cash from his box.  He always knew the day would
come when he would have to move quickly.  He had several other
accounts, inherited money from his dad and a kind aunt long ago.
That money was safe, easily accessible on line, using just an account
number.  He had hidden the money well, with some help from his Lone
Gunmen friends, and knew that they wouldn't be able to trace him from
there.  In reality, he could probably travel quite comfortably for a few
years before his funds ran dry.  Small consolation for having to walk
away from his life but it was better than most people have.

Climbing into his car, he tucked most of the cash  into separate
hiding places, in his various bags and under the seat (just in case).
He carried his weapons on him, by rights he should have left them
but you never know when they could come in handy.  He hoped
that he would only be avoiding Skinner and Scully for a while but
was not na?ve enough to believe that others, like my old black-
lunged friend, might not take an interest in his disappearance.
At the thought of  Cancer Man, Mulder reached for his gun.  It
comforted him to feel it's cool handle in his palm.  Not sure why
he pulled it from his holster and held it low on his lap.  Running it
gently up and down his leg he found himself wondering  what it
might feel like, what it would feel like to simply place the gun in
his mouth, and just...and just what Mulder, blow your head off.
Do that and that makes them right, they are not right, they are
wrong, you are okay.   He angrily shoved the gun back into it's
holster.  Glancing down at the clock he saw it was almost 11:00am.
It was definitely time to go,  when you're far enough away you can
send them an e-mail but for now you need to get moving.  Pulling
into traffic, he began to drive, not too fast Fox, don't want to attract
any attention, just take it easy.  Where am I going, he thought, does
it matter?  No, it didn't really matter, first get out of this town, second
get some food and third, although third would not come for quite
some time, find a safe place to sleep, to hide.  A few hours out of
town, he stopped  for gas.  He stocked up on caffeine-laden soda
and some snack food.  Pulling the car to the side of the station,
Mulder stepped out to use the facilities.   As he was washing up,
he noticed he was still in yesterday's suit, damn how could he
have overlooked this.  He stripped off his suit jacket, rolled up
his shirt sleeves and opened the collar hoping no one had noticed
the strange man in the rumpled suit.    He'd change when he
had more privacy.  As he was adjusting his clothes he heard a
phone ring.  He sat staring at his jacket until the ringing stopped.
He slowly reached for the phone and held it to his cheek.  His
lifeline, his link to her, to Skinner, to what was his world.  He
started as the phone began ringing again, he knew it was Scully,
knew from the time that she was probably outside, hell, in
Skinner's office right now.  He turned the phone off and
placed it gently in the bottom of the trash underneath the used
paper towels.  He moved slowly, like an old, tired man.  Somehow
leaving that phone behind was harder than everything else he had
done.  Once the phone was gone, everything was gone, it was put
up or shut up, it was start over or shut down.  Right now he didn't
know which choice was more likely.  Operating on auto pilot he
climbed into his car and drove.

************
Scully paced nervously in their basement office, where was he?
It was 12:58pm, where the hell was he?  She called his apartment
but no answer, strange his answering machine had not even picked
up.  She had tried several times now to call him on his cell phone,
why wasn't he picking up?  What if ... no  he wouldn't have done
it last night.  If he was gong to do it he would have called her,
he would have said good bye, there was no way he wouldn't
have said good bye.  Maybe he was already up in Skinner's
office or, she smiled, probably he overslept and is running
up to Skinner's office right now.  He had been tired last
night, so had she.  Maybe after Skinner and she talked him
into checking himself in for a while, everything would return
to normal or whatever normal meant when one worked on the
X-Files.   He had to be all right, she needed him, she needed
this work, he wouldn't leave her alone, would he?

Suddenly she stopped, something was different here, what was
different?  Looking around she made note of the files stacked
neatly on his desk, no glasses, where were his glasses, he was
always leaving them at work.  What else, what else was different?
She walked around the room slowly until she came to a blank
space on the wall, his poster, his I Want To Believe poster, it was
gone.  He loved that poster, why would he have taken it down?
Then it struck her, everything was neat, tidy, file drawers
were closed, files stacked neatly on the desk, pens in the holder
not thrown on he desk.  And his PC, why would he have taken
his laptop home with him last night, surely he had no intention
of working?    Her eye caught on something in the trash and
slowly she bent to pull it out.  It was his poster, crumpled up,
completely destroyed.  She could almost imagine him tearing it
from the wall  in a rage.  Her files, Samantha's file, she moved to
her desk and found her lap drawer had been forced open.  Samantha's
file was missing, her autopsy notes were gone.  "Oh God, I never
should have left him alone last night," she said aloud.  A feeling
of dread flowed through her, a small voice in her head asked the
question very quietly, what it he's not coming back, what if  he's ....no,
she wouldn't allow herself to think this way.  By the looks of things
I'd say he took all his toys and went home.  Mulder with no X-Files,
the X-Files with no Mulder, either way you said it, it just didn't fit.
No, no, Mulder could never leave the X-files, Mulder's home is the
X-files, Mulder would never leave her, would he?  Oh yes, he was
always ditching her but  he believed it was for her own good.   He
always gave her a hard time about her Dr. Scully mannerisms, how
many shots had she given him over the years, boy he really didn't
like those but he wouldn't ditch her over that, would he?  She knew,
she knew why his things were gone, she just didn't want to accept it,
"he knew, he must have heard us last night" she said aloud, "was it
possible?"  He was acting weird when he left, weird even by Mulder
standards.  "What did he say, c'mon Dana, you couldn't have been
that tired, what did he say?"    She hadn't realized she spoke out
loud until she saw Skinner at the door.  Looking at her with his
dark, serious eyes, he said, "Good-bye".

"Excuse me sir", Scully looked at him confused.

"Scully, he said good-bye.  He said  Good-bye Scully,   Skinner.
He knew, he must have been out in that office for some time before
he came in.  He must have heard at least a portion of what we said,
enough to scare the hell out of him."

Scully felt herself  fall, Skinner quickly caught her and moved her
into the nearest chair.  She sat frozen, stunned, "he knew, he knew
and he just sat there.  He must have been so frightened, so angry
and yet he just sat there.  After the discovery of his sister's body,
almost two months on a case that nearly killed him mentally, he
comes back and finds that the only home he has ever known, the
only people he has ever trusted have betrayed him," her face dropped
into her hands.  Skinner watched helplessly becoming more angry as
each minute passed, "God damn Mulder," he snapped, " why couldn't
you trust that we were doing what was right for you, why do you
have to be so stubborn?"

Skinner leaned in closer to Scully,  "Scully, we don't know that he's
gone, we just know that he packed up his things here.  For all we know
he's passed out on that damned couch of his in complete exhaustion.
After all, to pack up his things here must have taken a while, you're
getting upset and I'm getting pissed for nothing.   Let's go pay a visit
to our Mr. Mulder, if anything, this little stunt he pulled proves
beyond a shadow of a doubt that he needs more
help than we both realized.

Scully wiped away her tears, grabbed her purse and was out the door
ahead of Skinner.  Of course, he must be at his apartment, he's pouting,
he's hurt but he's there, I know he would never go anywhere without
talking to me first.  Skinner and Scully stopped just long enough to
pick up Dr. Schumacher from Skinner's office.  They had hoped he
could assist in confronting Mulder.  They all agreed that a neutral
party might have more luck talking to him than either of them.  As
they headed to Mulder's apartment, Scully turned to Dr. Schumacher.
"How do you think he will react to our sudden appearance in his home?"

Dr. Schumacher thought for a moment and said, " I have read a great
deal about Agent Mulder in his file.  He has had many experiences
with various forms of therapy so I'm not sure how effective direct
confrontation anywhere will be.  This man who will only benefit
if he wants to get well, any fighting of the treatment and..." he
trailed off shrugging his shoulders.  "However, if we had been
able to talk in Director  Skinner's office I had hoped he might
make an attempt to stay calm and follow the rules.  I don't think
we can count on that type of behavior in his own apartment.
That is his space and we will be invading it, he may panic, he
may withdraw, he may become very angry, in any case, we must
prepare for the worst.  I've brought along a tranquilizer in case it
becomes necessary.."   Noticing  Scully's concern he soothed,
"don't worry Dr. Scully, only enough to calm him should it
become necessary.  My role here is to help, not harm him.

Making a quick turn, Skinner pulled into a space in front of
Mulder's building.  Entering the building, they rushed for the
elevator and to his floor.  Stepping quietly off  the lift,
they moved towards his door.  Closer now, they noticed
the door was partially open.  Scully rushed forward and
would have entered if not for Skinner's hand on her arm.
Motioning for her to step back, Skinner attempted to
enter the apartment as quietly as possible.

"Agent Mulder,"  silence, "Agent Mulder" Skinner called
out.  Another step inside and he stopped, stunned.    Scully,
who had been following close behind Skinner, found herself
bumping into Skinner's back.  "Sir, sorry sir," she mumbled
rubbing her nose.  Looking past Skinner she understood
what had caused him to stop so quickly.  The place was a
shambles, it looked as though it had been robbed, no check
that, not robbed, ransacked.  His television, VCR and tapes
were there but everything looked as though it had been touched.
Scully checked the bathroom and bedroom and realized
immediately who the person responsible for the state of the
apartment, Mulder, Mulder had done this, how could he
have done this?

Walking into the bedroom Skinner found Scully standing in
front of  Mulder's closet stunned.  She turned as he entered
her eyes wide in disbelief.  "Most of his clothes are gone,
except for his suits," she motioned for him to look through
the closet.  "I know Mulder had pictures of his family on his
dresser, those are also gone."  Scully sat down on the bed
unable to comprehend what she was seeing.

"Agent Scully...Dana, I'm finding it very difficult to believe
 that the extremely exhausted Mulder who left my office last
night could have accomplished this and the clearing out of his
office in so short of time.  Is it possible this is a set up, is it possible
this is some elaborate scheme to make him disappear and make us
believe that it was his own choice?"

Dr. Schumacher called out of the bedroom, "Agent Scully, it
looks like he left you a little something."

Scully and Skinner joined Dr. Schumacher by the fish tank.
Attached to the tank was a  note, in Mulder's writing it said:

        Scully,

        Please take care of my fish.  Like me they
        need to be fed every other day and checked
        regularly to insure they haven't gone belly
        up.   Unlike me, they will not disappoint
        or annoy.  If you don't want them, just flush.

        Mulder

        P.S.
        Just kidding Scully, don't flush them.

Dr. Schumacher had completed his own search of the small
apartment  and then moved to sit down on the couch.  Skinner
leaned against the nearest wall as Scully continued to stare at
the note.  Dr. Schumacher spoke first.

"Well, it is obvious from Agent Mulder's actions that he is in
the midst of an emotional upheaval of some sort..  The fact that
he saw no other way to deal with the thought that he might be
detained, perhaps restrained,  tells me he "may" have lost his
grip, his very fragile grip on reality,"  Schumacher continued
to speak as he looked around.  "On the other hand, he appears
to have been very deliberate in the items he took with him and
even took the time to plan the future of his fish.  Either way,
some part of him has broken,  fear he is denying who he is and
how he feels about everything he has been forced to endure."
Standing now, he looked at Skinner and Scully, "Others have
diagnosed Agent Mulder with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
It is difficult to know if this diagnosis was correct.  I suspect
Agent Mulder is very good at manipulating those who attempt
to label him.  Based on both your descriptions  of his behavior,
it may very well be on target.  If that is the case we need to
locate him and determine the best course of therapy for him.
Find him and find him soon.  I have heard much about this
"Spooky Mulder" and it would be a shame to lose such
a man as an agent and as a friend."

Scully agreed, "Dr. Schumacher, why this extreme response,
Mulder has always been a bit uhm....unorthodox, but why do you
think he felt such a strong need to just disappear?"

"I don't know for sure, Dr. Scully, but if I had to guess, I'd say
he's attempting to take control of the situation."

 "Control," laughed Skinner harshly, "this boy is so out of control
right now it's downright scary!  Let's think through this situation,
an FBI agent on the edge, armed with intimate knowledge of our
government information systems as well as a government issued
weapon.   We need to find him and we need to find him now!"

Scully spoke, "sir, I agree," her professional face now making an
appearance, " I'll provide a description of Agent Mulder  to local
and state police."  She pulled her phone from her pocket and began
to make the needed calls.

"Scully", she looked up at Skinner, "I don't care what it takes, find
him, find him before someone else does."

"Yes sir."

Skinner and Schumacher headed back to the office, Scully remained
in Mulder's apartment looking for more clues.  She was upset but she
would not let her personal feelings get in the way, first find Mulder,
then get upset.  She began knocking on his neighbor's doors hoping
they could help her fit the pieces into this strange and frightening
situation."

************
Scully sat before Director Skinner's desk and began a read out of
all the information she had gathered regarding Mulder's  disappearance.

"Sir, it appears that after he left your office last night he returned to his
own.
 He must have spent most of the night packing up the things he felt he
needed and exited the building at approximately 1:00am.  His laptop is
gone and the hard drive of his PC has been removed."

Skinner was concerned, stolen equipment was bad, stolen weapons
was worse but information, what information had Mulder taken with him?
Knowing Mulder, probably just a few of his precious X-files but after
these last 48 hours he doubted if anyone really knew Mulder.  Scully
continued,  "from there I believe he went back to his apartment and
began to pack, not everything but everything that was important to him
including necessary clothing, toiletries,  photographs and important
papers.  A neighbor reported seeing him this morning carrying two
bags down to a car.  She's used to seeing him leave the building with a
bag but this one was a bit unusual, a large duffel bag supposedly stuffed
to the max.  She also commented on the fact that he appeared to be tired,
distracted and wearing a very wrinkled suit.  He didn't even acknowledge
her when she passed him in the hall and said good morning."  Skinner
raised his eyebrows in question, "sir, it appears that Mulder is usually
quite friendly to the woman and she was hurt that he didn't stop to chat.
She was also very worried because he looked messy and unkempt, she's
used to him always looking, in her words, like such a nice young man.
She looked up at Skinner, "it looks like he didn't take time to shower
change before he left."

Skinner nodded understanding the meaning behind that remark.
Mulder was obviously not concerned with his own well being
during his late night escapade.   "Go on  Scully."

Dana looked down at her notes, "All bank accounts and funds linked
to his social security number have been closed. All in all he walked
away with about $35,000 not including what he may have picked up
from his safety deposit box which he also visited this morning."
She paused for a moment, "sir, I believe he also kept a substantial
amount of cash within his apartment.  He hinted at it several times
and never seemed to be at a loss to pick up and go when needed."

Skinner waved her on.

"His car phone was found about an hour ago.  I... I'd been calling
his number all day and I finally received an answer.  It was from a
janitor who cleans out gas station rest rooms off the main highway.
He found it in the trash, turned it on, and when he did, answered
my call.  I'll be driving out there next to question all employees."
She stopped and rubbed her forehead before she continued, she was
tired, more tired than she thought possible but she could not, no
would not choose this time to fall apart.  Mulder needed her and
she would not let him down, not again.  We're checking  all auto
rentals, airports and public transportation sights by name and picture,
but  of course, knowing Mulder," she smiled slightly here, " he
probably didn't use his own name. I've also checked under his
known aliases but found nothing."

Skinner leaned forward on his desk.  Slowly he ran his hands over
his face trying to put himself in Mulder's place.  He could see Scully
was near collapse and, to be honest, he wasn't far behind her.  He
didn't know how much he should tell her, didn't know how much
more she could take at this point.  Slowly he stood, Scully looked
up expectantly, what did he know?   "Tell me sir, I need to know
everything if I'm going to find him."  Skinner's eyebrows raised in
surprise, this woman never failed to amaze him, so small yet so
strong.  Everyone had their limits though.   Understanding her not
knowing would put Mulder and her both in danger, he began.

"Scully, you know there are those that watch Mulder  and his activities?"

"Yes, I don't necessarily know who or....why but it has always been
obvious that Mulder has his friends and his enemies."

"His friends will obviously be concerned at this turn of events, but
his enemies, I'm not sure how they will react."  Skinner walked to
the window and looked out, searching for the words to continue.
"When he's here, when he's working with you Scully," he turned
to meet her eyes, "I know where he is or at least where he should
be.  Yes, he often goes off half cocked but I always know he'll
come back eventually, if not to the bureau  then to you Scully.

Scully stood and began pacing, "sir, I appreciate your comments
but what specifically are your concerns? What are <WE> dealing
with here?"

"I'm not sure, I'm really not sure how they'll react to his disappearance.
 Based on my previous experience with these people, I do not believe
they will receive the news of Mulder's departure well.  I do not believe
they will let it rest.  They need him somehow, I've never been able to
completely put the puzzle together but it's obvious from Mulder's unique
family history and the, shall we say, special handling he has received in
the past that he fits into a larger plan.  I'm....I'm afraid for him Scully,
I'm afraid if they find him first that we'll never .....never get him back."

Scully was stunned, the depth of emotion in Skinner's voice shocked her.
She had always, well almost always known Skinner was in their corner
but she had not realized how connected he felt to Mulder and it
appeared even to her.  For Skinner to admit fear, fear for Mulder and
fear for the loss of Mulder was more than she would have ever expected.

Reaching over to place her hand on his shoulder, "I'll find him
Walter.....we'll find him."

************
The car was pulled into a remote campsite.  No sound penetrated
the deep Wisconsin woods except for the occasional deer or
raccoon wandering by.  Mulder slept wrapped tightly in a ball
in the back seat.  A blanket and his leather jacket kept out the
night air, he'd have to remember to pick up a sleeping bag
tomorrow.  He was tired, so tired, he had caught a few hours
here and there at roadside stops but today, today he knew if
he didn't stop, if he didn't take some time to get his bearings
that he would make a mistake and he could not afford to
make a mistake.  Along the way he had turned in his rental
at the Milwaukee Airport and then went immediately to another
counter and rented another, this time under yet another alias.
He had also changed into his jeans and a heavy flannel shirt.
 It was working, his plan was working, he knew he was blending
not bringing any undue attention to himself since leaving DC,
he was leaving no trail.

Earlier in the evening he had found himself sitting in a small bar
just outside of Lakewood.  The food had really hit the spot, a
large Reuben sandwich made on homemade bread and chili, hot
chili, he couldn't remember the last time he had eaten such
a meal.   The food, a few beers, a country western song and he
found himself dozing a bit in the smokey haze of the bar.  "Can
I get you another beer  or maybe some nice pie for dessert," she
smiled.  Mulder looked her over slowly, she was a pretty woman,
dark eyes and hair, full figured, he usually liked his woman small
but....oh hell, snap out of it Mulder, no time for that.  Shaking
his head no, he began to dig into his wallet for the cash to pay
the check.  Cheap, hmmm., maybe he should consider
the dairy state for a while.  His cash stash could keep him
well cared for quite a while here.

Standing, too quickly, he began to sway, the waitress  grabbed
his arm and pulled him towards her.  Leaning heavily on her now
he was reluctant to let go, not sure if he could stand on his own.
Carefully she helped him sit down again.  Closing his eyes he sat
back in the chair, "sorry, I guess I didn't realize I was this tired,
been on the road for a while now."

"Listen preppie," his head snapped up at that, terror in his eyes,
"hey, hey, sorry, didn't know you were so sensitive about that
college background.  Anyway, let me get you some coffee to
clear your head and then recommend a nice little motel just
up the road."

Mulder stood again, this time the ground stayed steady, "no, no
thank you, I've got to get back on the road."  She eyed him up
and down trying to determine if it would be safe to send him
off on his own.  She knew the local law and, if necessary she
was sure she could get him detained enough to catch a few
hours sleep, she'd feel bad if she saw that pretty face on the
evening news being described as just another casualty of the
road.

Uh oh, Mulder realized (a Scully look) , she wasn't going to let
it drop, guess he hadn't been as careful about bringing attention
to himself as he thought.  "Listen," he assured her, "you're right,
I'm really tired.  Can you point me in the direction of the nearest
campground, I'll park and grab some sleep."  Satisfied now, she
gave him directions to a small site just up the road, sending him
off with a cup of coffee and a smile, she watched out the window
to make sure he made it to his car okay.  Thinking about those
sad hazel eyes and his slumped shoulders, it was obvious he was
loaded down with some heavy problems.  Guess that just goes to
show that money and looks ain't everything cause if it were that
boy would be happy, any fool could see he came from money and
any woman could see he had by far the most appealing face she'd
seen in a long time.

"Maggie....Maggie," the bartender shouted, "if you're though
playing mother, can you come on over here and take care
of the rest of  our customers!"

"Sure Dan, sorry," turning away from the window she realized
that she really was sorry, she would've liked to have been the
woman he turned to for a little comfort.

 "Maggie!"  "Yah Dan I'm coming, I'm coming," she rushed
back to the kitchen to get the next order.

At first Mulder was tempted to head straight out of town and
drive through the night but he knew the incident in the bar was a
warning, a warning that if he wasn't more careful he would find
himself passed out only to wake up looking at the ceiling of an
emergency room.  Mulder shuddered, no, he couldn't let that
happen, they would tie him down again, touch him where he
didn't want to be touched, control every movement.......taking
a deep breath he could feel the sweat bead on his forehead.  No,
no he couldn't let that happen.  He pulled the truck into the
campsite, signed in under Will Johnson (one of several licenses
he carried) and laid down his $5.00.  Driving as far back from the
road as possible he found a little site.  He thought about starting a
fire but realized he'd have to make his way back to the front to get
some wood, it wasn't really that cold so he just crawled into the
back of the car, placed his gun within reach, wrapped himself up
in his blanket and drifted off to sleep.

A sound, what was it, opening his eyes he reached for his gun
only to find himself pinned by Skinner.  He was saying something
that Mulder couldn't hear, all he could feel was the blood rushing
to his head as  Skinner slammed him down heavily against the seat.
 "No, no," moaned Mulder arms pinned at his side, he was frozen.

 "Shut up Mulder, shut the fuck up,"  he flipped Mulder over on his
stomach and quickly cuffed him.  Grabbing the cuffs he pulled Mulder
from the car not caring that Mulder's shoulders were carrying all the
burden of his weight.  Once outside the truck Skinner threw him to
the ground and began to kick him viciously, continuing to scream his
frustrations out on Mulder.     Suddenly the kicking stopped, Mulder
could feel his stomach heave, his recent dinner was not going to be
with him long.  Moaning he attempted to shift his body away from
Skinner.  Hands, strong hands held him down on the ground not
allowing him any movement.  Then he froze, she was here, she would
help him.  "Scully, Scully, help me...." he pleaded.

"Mulder," reaching down to gently brush the hair from his tear-stained
eyes, "Mulder, my poor Mulder, I wanted to help you but you wouldn't
let me, you ran away again, you ditched me," eyes hurt she leaned in a
little closer until her lips were so close to his ear he could feel her soft
breath.

"Scully, I'm sorry, help me,"  he begged.

"Sorry, you're sorry Mulder, don't you worry, you don't need to be
sorry, it's obvious you didn't know what you were doing.  We're
going to get you help Mulder, going to find a safe quiet place for
you to get better."

He started to struggle again, terrified now, "no, no Scully, I don't
want to go there, I don't want to be locked away, don't make me
go!"  "Now Fox," she smiled", " it's for your own good" and with
that she pulled out a large syringe and while they held him tightly
she plunged it slowly, painfully into his straining arm.  Struggling,
screaming he could feel it burn him, he felt it travel through his
body as the Black Cancer had, he felt the burning move its' way
into his stomach, up into his throat, he couldn't breath, his throat..........

Gasping, crying, he pushed his way out of the car.  Attempting to
stand he felt his head hit hard against the roof of the door, causing
him to fall to the ground bruising his shoulder.  Sobbing now he
crawled on his hands and knees  away from the car, away from
where "they" had been.  The cold air surrounded him but he couldn't
 quite pull himself away from the belief that Skinner and Scully were
here, waiting to take him.  In a crouch position he surveyed the site
gun in hand.  This surprised him, he didn't remember grabbing it.
How long he stayed this way he didn't know, a minute, an hour,
slowly he came to the realization that he was alone, that, in fact,
it had been a nightmare.  He laughed a little at that, to think he
didn't know a nightmare by now was humorous.  As he started to relax he
felt his stomach flip,  quickly moving to the trees.  When his stomach
was empty, he rolled away.  Sweating, exhausted, staring straight
up through the trees at the night sky he stared, so many stars.
Right about now a UFO could stop right above him, hover and
 reach down for him with a big old fish hook and he wouldn't
have been able to fight it.  Wasn't it in these woods, in this
area that they had taken Max......he suddenly found himself
laughing, laughing at the irony of this whole situation, the
great Mulder, the wonder boy of the FBI, a fugitive laying
flat on his back in the woods waiting for a flying saucer to
come take him away.  And when he was done laughing  the
tears came again, so many tears.  Eventually he drifted off,
laying on the cold ground, arms flung out at his sides, offering
himself up though to what he didn't know.

************
Cold, why was it so cold, instinctively he reached for his blanket to
huddle into but found nothing.  He was having a little trouble
breathing as well, nose stuffy, mouth tasted like he had been
eating dirt and other disgusting things.   Slowly he opened his
eyes and began to take in the detail of his surroundings.  Trees,
beautiful trees everywhere, he had a sense of being in a cathedral
made only of trees.  How can I be seeing trees if I'm in my car?
You can't genius, you are laying flat on your back in the middle
of the Wisconsin woods in 40 degree weather.

He wearily pushed himself up from the ground, "Mulder old man,
if this is a sign of things to come, that institution is looking better
and better."    Chilled to the bone, hungry and by the smell of
him, none to clean, he was a sight.  Walking slowly over to the
car, he reached in and pulled out  his laptop.  Booting up his
Roadmap program, he quickly located his approximate location
in Wisconsin.  He had been randomly driving West from DC,
t was time to make a decision, consider his options.  South
would take him to warmer weather and the way his head was
aching and his nose was running, he could appreciate a little
sun.   North would take him up to Canada but that would put
him at risk of crossing the border and he wasn't feeling ready
to do that on his current papers.   Hell, in a few months, when
he was sure he had lost them, he would consider going
oversees, maybe back to London and getting lost there,
ots of places to get lost in England  Maybe even Scotland,
Scotland would be good, little cottages miles away from
anyone else, he could almost see himself there.
Not yet though, too much of a risk to pull that off yet.

Okay, okay, so where am I  going?  For some reason the Rocky
Mountains seemed to be calling his name, he could remember
having a case there and really appreciating  the area.  Everyone
was laid back and more importantly respected each other's need
for privacy.  Decided now, he stored the route in memory,
ubbing his runny nose carelessly on his  sleeve.  Catching himself,
he grinned,  oh yes, he'd make a good mountain man.  Gas,
breakfast and on the road, in that order.  The cloudy sky
ndicated storms were on the way.   If it got bad, this might
be a good night to hole up in a little motel, grab a hot shower,
plug in and send off an e-mail or two. Maybe he would even
check with the Lone Gunmen to see if they had any useful
information for him.  Could they still be trusted?.  He thought
for a moment, Frohicke was in love with Scully, was Scully
low enough to use that crush to gain information on his whereabouts?
Was Frohicke strong enough to resist?  Would he be strong enough
to resist such a temptation?  Well that settled it, he'd have to be very
careful in his communication to the Gunmen but he couldn't
completely cut them off.  He needed them, their friendship
and their knowledge if he was going to avoid discovery.
The first few drops of rain began to fall.  Gathering up his
things quickly, he shoved them in the back.  Starting the car,
he hastily turned the heater up, he was still feeling chilled.
Pointing the car towards town, he began to drive.

"Hi honey, you're looking a little bit better today," purred
Maggie.  Mulder turned to look into the smiling face of his
waitress from the night before.  "Uhm, yah,  took your advice
and got some sleep, " looking down he realized his clothes
were pretty rumpled and, dare he admit it, he stank.  "Still
need a nice hot shower though, thought I'd stop tonight and
find a place to hold up.

My goodness, even his sweat smells sexy, she thought as
she leaned in close to him.  Lowering her voice to insure no
one else could overhear, she whispered "if you like, you
can stop by my place and use mine.  I won't even ask for a tip."

Taking a quick step back, blushing bright red, he said ,
"thanks for the offer Maggie but," stepping back further
towards the register, "I really have to go."

Turning quickly he bumped into the chest of one of the largest
men he had ever seen (and that alien Bounty Hunter had been
pretty big).  "Excuse me, sorry," he apologized.  Mulder looked
up to see that on top of being as big as a horse, the man was also
a cop, local by the markings of his uniform.

 "No problem, in a bit of a hurry are you" , asked the giant.

"Well, not really in a hurry, just anxious to get on the road, I'm
running a bit late," Mulder continued to walk towards the register
as he spoke.  Casually, he pulled  out some cash and  paid for his
gas, donuts, Sudafed, coffee and, oh yah, can't forget the seeds.
Difficult as it was, he didn't turn to see if the cop was still there.

The giant, sensing something was not quite right with this man,
started to walk towards him.  Suddenly Maggie called him over,
"oh Jack, could you come over here and help me pick out the best
night crawlers for my nephew, you know I don't know the difference
between a worm and a crawler?"

Jack, understanding who was going to keep him warm that night
promptly forgot the strange young man and went over to join Maggie.
Looking back just before he left the station, Mulder  met Maggie's
eyes and smiled, "thanks" he mouthed silently.  She sighed and
smiled in return and then  returned to her  conversation with Jack
wanting to give him a few more minutes to get out of town.  She
wasn't quite sure what it was but something in that man's puppy
dog eyes and that incredibly sexy pout made you want to protect
him from all the bad in the world.  Protect him and do a few other
things to him as well, too bad he wasn't going to be around long
enough to let her try.

Mulder set the coffee in his cup holder, tossed the donuts on the
seat next to him and pulled out onto Highway 32.  He swallowed
two Sudafed hoping they would help clear the fog that had begun
to settle on his brain.  As he began to drive the rain fell heavily
from the sky.  With each swish of the windshield he found
himself pushing away memories, memories of people he thought
cared who in the end didn't, memories of a cigarette smoking
man who might be his father, memories of a father who brutally
beat him and forced the guilt and blame of Samantha onto his
12 year old shoulders.  Every time  a memory became too hard,
he pushed it away, pushed it to the side exactly like those blades
on his windshield.  He was done with all that, he wasn't Fox
Mulder victim anymore, he was, well he was whoever the ID
of the day said he was.  No one knew him, no family, no friends,
no conspiracies and no chance to hurt or be hurt by those
around him because, after all, there was no one around him.
He laughed at that, squinted out at the rain -covered road and
continued to drive.

************
Mulder had been driving all day, only stopping for gas and a
plastic-wrapped sandwich he pulled out of a machine at the station.
He'd only taken a few bites before he realized it was not edible.
It was about 5:30pm and though he would have liked to have kept
going, his cold had gotten progressively worse throughout the day
making him miss a few of his turn offs and causing him to
backtrack a few times.  He couldn't afford these kind of mistakes
and when he saw the sign for the small 12 room motel, the car
seemed to turn on it's own.  Checking in under Will Jackson this
time, he paid cash for the room and pulled his car around the back
of the building.   Gun stashed at his back, cash shoved down the
front of his pants, his laptop and a bag balanced on his shoulder,
he headed into his room.

He was in luck, the place may be small but it was clean.  A queen
size bed took up most of the room along with an older chest of
drawers upon which sat a television.  He walked over and
switched it on, could he get lucky enough to find some cable?
Yes, looked like things were definitely looking up, the place
must have a satellite dish.  Making his way over to the
temperature setting, he turned the heat up, he couldn't quite
shake the chill from his little camping experience last night.
His nose was so full he had been forced to breath through
his mouth most of the day which only lead to a sore throat.
Heading for the bathroom, he stopped and turned back to the
door.  Looking around he located a chair,  he carefully  perched
it underneath the doorknob.  The door was locked but the chair
could maybe give him the extra minute or two he would need to
crawl out the back window.  He didn't think that was going to
be necessary but he was not going to make any more mistakes,
that incident with the waitress in Lakewood had been a little
too close.

As he walked towards the bathroom, he began peeling off his clothes.
Yikes, he must really be ripe because those jeans were practically
standing up on  their own.  Standing under the shower he thanked
God for motels that provided soap and shampoo, he started by just
letting the water run over him, letting the steam fill the bathroom
and clear his stuffy head, then he began to scrub, not once, not twice
but three times from head to toe.  He had forgotten how wonderful
a simple shower could feel.  What was it about freedom that made
you appreciate everything so much more.  Stepping out of the shower,
feeling relaxed and clean,  he buffed himself dry with a rather thin
white towel (what do you expect for $22.50 Mulder?)..  Once dry,
he walked back into the room stark naked enjoying the additional
sense of freedom it allowed.   He flashed on what Scully would
think if she could see him now and smiled, lecture, he would
definitely get a lecture.    Sobering suddenly he looked towards
the door almost expecting her to push through it.  He knew Skinner
would have her looking for him at least for a while, he knew she
ould be a tough adversary.  Scully was smart, yes she wanted to
have him locked away and that pissed him off to no end, but she
was smart.  She wouldn't give up right away unless he could make
her believe that he was okay, that he was sane, that everything he
did, he did not because he had gone off the deep end but because
he couldn't have survived had he stayed.  Surely she would be able
to see that if he could just talk to her, without any Skinner, without
any doctors around.   What about Skinner, would he be easier to
convince?  If so,  Skinner could pull her off, make her stop looking,
give her other cases to work on with a new partner, one she didn't
have to worry about all the time.

His stomach grumbled loudly demanding food.  Last night's meal
hadn't stayed around very long.  Dialing the front office he asked
where the nearest pizza place was that delivered.  The lady on the
phone recommended Dino's and provided him with the number.
Dialing, he ordered a large pizza, side salad and some bottled ice tea.
Reluctantly he began to dress, don't want to give the pizza guy the
wrong idea now, do we?

Two hours later, the room toasty warm, food and Sudafed resting
safely in his stomach, he stared at the screen of his laptop.  He had
logged onto the Internet using one of his many account Ids, only his
government account actually lead back to him.  He had sent off the
following message to the Lone Gunmen and was waiting for an
answer:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
LG,

Needed some time away, decided to take a  little vacation.  The
weather  has been a bit dark, some might even call it "Spooky".

Richard Kimble

P.S.
Ran into a beautiful redhead the other day, she broke my heart.  Just
goes to show you should never trust a woman with hair the color of blood.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His mail alert beeped, Mulder accessed immediately...

Richard,

Thanks for the advice on the woman, you know that has always
been my weakness.   It has been quiet here, no mutual friends have
come to visit since you we saw you  last  We heard the roads you
travel may have some heavy fog, can you confirm?

LG
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mulder responded...

The further I go, the less fog I encounter.  Do not be concerned,
reports indicate clear skies ahead.

Richard

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mulder exited and re-entered under a different user name, his personal
favorite, Peter PITA...

Scully,

I heard you that night, both of you, making plans to lock me away.  I was
angry at first but now, now I'm just tired.  Tired of  the constant debate,
the struggle to make people believe, the psychos who crawl in my head
when I drop my guard.  Scully, the fact that I am writing this tells you I
am alive, I have not put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger.  Contrary
to yours and Skinner's belief that night, I was not planning on ending my
life. But let ask you this Scully, what if I were?  So what, it's my life not
Skinner's, not yours.  It's mine to take if I feel a need.  Why do you both
feel that you have a right to control me so?

I was very tired that night Scully, too many days, weeks in the mind of a
madman.  That "experience" is very difficult for me, you knew that.  I am
not like the other profilers, I can't keep myself apart from the horror that
I see.  I am constantly amazed at the other's ability to face the horror of a
mutilated victim, to see the crime through the eyes of the killer and be
unaffected.  What kind of cold, hard son-of-a bitch could see what I see,
feel what I feel and then go catch a good night's sleep.

Needless to say this is why I didn't last long in VCS.  They called me
Spooky, knew that my own life was one thread away from being one
of these monsters.    They see the same nightmares every day Scully and
they appear to feel nothing.  Who's the sick one here, someone who feels
the pain, lives the horror of the monster or someone who feels nothing in
the face of it?

Please stay away Scully, don't try to follow.  Go back to Quantico,
meet a normal man and "get a life."  Tell your Mom (and my Mom)
good-bye.

Mulder

He inhaled harshly, refusing to feel anything, and hit the send button.
Now for Director Skinner...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Director Walter Skinner:

This is to officially inform you of  my resignation as Senior Agent
in charge of the X-files and as an agent in the Federal Bureau of
Investigation.  April 17, 1998 marked my final day of service to the bureau.
My resignation from the bureau releases you from any responsibility
you may be feeling for my well being.  While I certainly appreciate your
recent attempt to "assist me", it is no longer necessary to do so.

Also, feel free to deduct from my last check and savings fund the cost
of the laptop and weapons provided.  I have found that during some
recent activity these items have been misplaced and feel a responsibility
to personally cover the cost.

On a private note, I would like to beg a favor, please reassign Dana
Scully to Quantico.  She is a brilliant teacher and pathologist and
should be allowed to excel in her field.  Please don't send her to find
me, doing so could put her in danger and I can't live with that anymore.

Fox Mulder

P.S.
Cheer up Skinner, think of the calendar time I just freed up now that
there'll be no more Mulder "reaming" sessions.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hitting the send key, Mulder then logged off.  Carefully unplugging the
PC from the phone jack, he switched it off  and placed it back in his case.
 Placing his dirty clothes into an empty motel trash bag, he kicked it to
the side of the door.   In another few days he'd need to find a
Laundromat, now that was a scary thought although he had often
thought the missing sock situation could be categorized as an X-File.
He could see the report now, aliens were stealing the individual socks
due to the fact that they were color blind  (no need to match) and their
feet size were uniquely different from each other.  Skinner would love
that and Scully would of course counter with a report that explained
how socks often get caught within the mechanism of the machines
 (like anyone would believe that a singular dryer could house that
many lost socks).   But now was not the time to worry about his
next case,  now he was beat.  Stripping off all but his boxers, he climbed
under the covers of the bed.  He reached over and switched off the light ,
aimed the remote at the television and began to search for something
decent or, indecent if he were lucky.  It was about 11:30pm and he
knew, as tired as he was, he wasn't ready for sleep.   He channel surfed
until he found the Playboy station, lowered the sound and laid back
against the pillows.  Mulder drifted off to the groans of the movie.

************
Scully was no closer to him today then the first day of her investigation.
They had checked airports and bus stations and were now hitting all the
rental car options.  While she was waiting she decided to care for some
of the administrative work she'd let slip.  E-mail first, she signed on to
the network.  Reviewing her inbox, her eye caught on one from a Peter
PITA, curious she opened it to read.

************
Skinner, having just arrived in his office, sank gratefully into his chair.
This Mulder thing was stealing a lot of sleep from him.  Reaching for
the coffee on his desk, he started his day as he usually did, reading
over his new mail.  Scanning the inbox he saw a message from an
unfamiliar name, "who the hell is Peter PITA?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Director Walter Skinner:

This is to officially inform you of  my resignation as Senior Agent in
charge of the X-files and as an agent in the Federal Bureau of
Investigation......

Fox Mulder
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Skinner wasn't sure what he was feeling, his emotions seemed to leap
from relief that Mulder was still alive, anger at his resignation being
given in so insolent a manner and bitter humor over his last statement.
Mulder, he thought, you  don't know what a good reaming is.

"What was with the name though, Peter PITA,  where did that come
from," mused Skinner aloud.

"Pain In The Ass," said Scully, standing in his office door.

"Excuse me Agent Scully."

"PITA stands for Pain In The Ass, leave it to Mulder to inject  humor
into this situation."  She dropped a copy of her e-mail on Skinner's
desk for him to read.

Skinner looked up after reading through it, rubbed his fingers absently
across his forehead, "it doesn't take a psychologist to feel how angry
and upset he is.  He's actually trying to convince you that it's normal
for him to want to take his own life."  Standing up, he began to pace,
"but Scully, he does have a point."

"What point is that, sir", she asked.

"Well, he's very convincing in this argument regarding being a profiler.
I've often wondered myself how a person could do that job and remain
unaffected.  Why do we get so upset when Mulder feels everything so
deeply?"

Moving closer to her now, he questioned, "tell me Scully, what
caused this, surely it can't be our conversation only.  Mulder's been
threatened with this type of treatment in the past and has always
been allowed to avoid it if he felt very strongly about it.  We're
missing something here, what are we missing?"

"Sir, I think overhearing our conversation was just the final straw
When you look at his life over the last 4-6 months, we should have
been able to see it coming.  Samanatha was just the beginning and
as hard as I tried to keep the total autopsy reports from him, I found
out yesterday that he had accessed them and read every word right
before we went off on this last case. He also broke into my desk
nd took her file with him.   And sir,  this last case was," she paused,
looking for the right words, "horrible, ghastly, obscene in its'  detail.
Mulder profiled this monster down to the donuts he liked to eat after
he was through with his sacrifices.   Mulder WAS that monster, but
this monster had little emotion and so Mulder just locked himself
away in his head, calm, cool, no rage, no loss of control this time.
There were times I would have preferred Mulder with a touch of
madness than the cold man he became during this last case.

"Sir... Walter, I think he just broke, I think he just couldn't see
himself continuing here.  I believe in order to survive he needed to
let people get close and help him through it and in the end, that was
what scared him most.  After all, when, in Mulder's history, has he
ever trusted someone, opened himself up and not been betrayed?"

"We didn't betray him Scully."

"No", she agreed, " but to him it appeared that we did and you know
what they say about perception being reality."

They sat quietly for a while, finding some comfort from their guilt in
each other's company.  It was strange for her to be here without him.
If , no,  WHEN they found him, would they ever be able to return to
the life they had or would the damage be unable to be repaired?

"Any new leads Scully," Skinner asked.

"Waiting sir, just waiting, hoping to get something soon."  Standing,
she smoothed her skirt and walked to the door.

************
Mulder awoke clawing at his neck, gasping for air.  He had been
dreaming, seeing  images of what they may have done to Sam before
she died.  Pushing the covers away, he eased himself into a sitting
position on the side of the bed.  His head was pounding again, his
nose was stuffy, eyes runny, "enough," he demanded out loud, "enough
of feeling like this, enough of these damn nightmares."  He headed to the
bathroom, stripping off his boxers just before he entered the shower.
The water was cold and sliced into him like tiny razor blades.  It hurt,
but it was a hurt he could identify and understand, he liked this pain.
Stepping out of the shower, he brushed and shaved quickly.  Dressing
in fresh clothes, he tossed his dirty laundry in the corner along with his
other bags.  Scanning the room one more time, he threw his luggage in
his car and headed to the office to check out.  Feeling somewhat
refreshed after his 6 hours of sleep, Mulder once again began to drive.

************
Skinner was startled by the click of his office door, it was very late,
who was still here?

"Who is it," he called out right before he caught a whiff of the odor.
The odor he had come to hate.

"Walter, so good to see you again," the cigarette-smoking man stepped
into the room.

"What do you want," Skinner asked, already knowing the answer.

"Well, Walter, my associates and I were curious as to the progress that
was being made in locating Agent Mulder.  They are very anxious to
be of assistance should your efforts fail," he took another drag on his
cigarette.

"I, we will not fail, there is no need for any additional assistance in
locating Mulder at this time," Skinner stated coldly.

"Are you sure Walter, it would be very disappointing for us to lose
Mulder at this point in the game.  As you have always suspected,
he has a place in our future plans."

"Why don't you take the time to explain what that place is," pushed
Skinner.

"Now, now Walter, what fun would that be?  The pleasure of the game
is in the playing, not in knowing who will win or......lose."  Leaning in
now he whispered, "where is our boy, where would he have run?"

"We don't know yet but we have several leads that we expect to come
through anytime now."

"I've heard some interesting rumors Walter, perhaps you can clear them
up?"  Skinner nodded for him to continue.  "I heard Mulder was upset
when he left, I heard that he may have been ill, something about a knife
in his back," he smiled fully now.

Skinner choked with rage, "he was ill, he was burnt out and we were
planning on helping him as we have always helped him in the past.
This time he didn't want any help, this time we underestimated how
much pain he was in."  Needing to throw off the bastard, he pressed on,
" you know what his capabilities are, this is not just another missing
persons case.  This is truly a game of Fox and Hound and in this case
the Fox is very sly and crafty.  He knows the rules and he knows how
to break them.  He's made contact with us that we cannot track back to
him, he's operating under an assumed identity," pausing for affect, "
perhaps more than one.  Looking over the details of his exit it's obvious
he has considered doing this or something very much like it for a long
time just in case he had a need to disappear."  Skinner stepped up to this
man and looked him squarely in the eye,  "how about you, what do you
know about Mulder that I don't know, what can you tell me that can
assist me in finding him?"

Slowly reaching down to snuff out his cigarette, the man smiled.
"I will see what I can find that may help you in this endeavor Walter
but, if I do, what would I get in return?"

"You bastard, you get exactly what you want, the whereabouts of one
Fox Mulder!"

Walking towards the door the man turned, "oh yes, there is that."  The
door shut quietly behind him.

Skinner slammed his fist against the closed door, slammed it hard
several times before he could feel the pain.  Pain was good, pain
made you think more clearly, "Mulder, where the hell are you?"

************
Several hundred miles out of  Boulder, Mulder had ditched his rental
car in an airport parking lot.  From there he dragged his bags to the
nearest bus stop and took it into the downtown area.  He then hailed
a cab and asked to be driven across town to a remote pick up site for
the next bus out of town.  There he loaded a bus headed for Boulder.
 The bus was mostly empty so he tossed his bags on the seat next to
him, leaned against the window and watched the land slide by.  He
didn't doze, he wanted to, but he still felt extremely wary.  Mulder
sneezed, "damn, I hate being sick."

************
Maggie pulled into the front of the local police building and turned
the car off.  Reaching over the seat she grabbed the basket with the
lunch she had made for Jack.  "He aint' much," she mumbled, "but
he's the best I'm going to do in this town.  Besides," she smiled,
"there's a lot to be said for a big man."  Humming she made her
way into the building.

Jack was busy on the phone so, nosy as usual, she began to read the
board he always kept with recent updates.  She gasped, stepping back
suddenly from the picture hanging on the wall.  Jack, noticing her
reaction, ended his call and immediately joined her.

 "What is it Maggie?"  She turned and eyed him up and down,
could it be he didn't know it?

 "Jack, this picture, this man, what did he do?"

Jack pulled down the notice, remembering  he had just hung it up
yesterday.  "Honestly Maggie, I'm not sure but whatever it was he
 must be pretty dangerous.  My instructions are to NOT approach
him and to call the FBI if I catch sight of him."  Thinking she was
concerned for his well being, he patted her gently on the shoulder
and soothed, "don't you worry Maggie, I can take care of myself."

"So, you're saying that this man is so dangerous they don't want a
regular cop to approach him?"

A little stung by her use of the term regular cop, he pouted,
"Maggie he's probably a serial killer or something, they don't
put out this kind of stuff unless the guys a psycho or something."

That little piece of news had settled it in her head.  He may have
been pretty but she was not going to be responsible for a serial
killer going uncaught.  "Jack, don't you remember, this is the
guy who bumped into you at the pumps a few days ago."  She
had Jack's full attention now, "you remember honey, your
instincts must be really good because it was obvious you were
going to give him the third degree.  I, I felt sorry for him
because he looked so tired and sick so I called you over to
help me pick out the night crawlers, do you remember now
Jack?"

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," was all he could think to say as he
dialed the number on the notice.

************
Scully stopped by Skinner's office to give him an update on
current information.  She was scheduled to fly out in a few
hours but wanted to keep Skinner in the loop.  He was in a
meeting but ended it abruptly at her arrival.

"What have you got Scully?"

"First, it appears he began his trip by renting a car.  He did so
through a low budget dealer less than two miles from his
apartment", she shook her head at this still not believing she
had missed something so obvious.  "The car was returned
and a new one picked up at the AVIS counter in Milwaukee,
WI."  She paused, scanning the rest of her notes.  "He rented
the first car under Will Johnson and the second under Will
Jackson, interesting how close the names were, " she mused,
"he obviously planned the use of the fake Ids in the past, they
are different but very close allowing for less mistakes on his
part in forgetting his name."  Funny, she thought, a man with
a photographic memory concerned about forgetting his name.

"Anything else Scully," Skinner asked.

"Yes sir, possibly, I'm flying into the Lakewood,  Wisconsin
area this morning to question a local sheriff on a possible sighting.
He saw the alert I put out and called in just a short time ago."

Skinner gathered a few files and threw them in his brief case.
Grabbing his coat, he asked, "what are we waiting for Scully, let's go."

"Sir, I didn't realize you would be traveling with me."

"We need to find him Scully, there's little time to waste here."

Scully  wasn't sure whether to be insulted or complimented
by Skinner's offer, shrugging, she picked up her coat and f
followed him out.  "Don't say I didn't warn you sir," she called.

Skinner turned, "about what?"

Smirking now, "the plane, it's a four seater, it's the only thing
that can get me close to Lakewood."

"I served in Vietnam Scully, how bad could it be?"

With that they headed out to catch their flight.

************

"Maggie, now that we're alone," Dana peeked  over her shoulder
to confirm Officer Jack Warninski was out of ear shot, "can you
tell me again about your encounter with Age..., Mr. Mulder?"

Maggie licked her lips and took  stock of Special Agent Dana Scully.
The woman was tough,  cold as ice but there was something in
the way her voice softened when she spoke this  Mulder's name
that made Maggie suspicious.  "Listen Agent Scully, we've been
through this, I'm tired."

"Please Maggie, one more time."

"Okay but no one is going to convince me that that man is a
psychotic nutball or some kind of serial killer.  No m'am, I've
been waiting tables for over 20 years and I know how to read
people and that boy was not crazy.  Tired," she paused for a
moment thinking back to her meetings with this Mr. Mulder,
"yes, he was exhausted, kind of out of it, but not crazy like
mean crazy."

"Maggie, please tell me in your own words what happened," concern
evident in her voice now.

"Okay, okay, a few nights ago, he comes stumbling in the door,
I don't know about 7-8pm, not sure, we were a little busy that night
It wasn't like you could miss him, he was a bit of a mess."

"How so Maggie, describe him to me."

Maggie smiled a little smile, she knew that man wasn't a killer,
 just a man in some trouble.

"Maggie, please."

"Well, looked like he hadn't shaved for a few days, rough
beard, you know."

Scully nodded, not wanting to interrupt her flow.

"Hair was messy, looked like he just ran his hands through it
before walking in the door.  His clothes were rumpled like he'd
been in them for a while but even with all that against him, he
was still the best looking thing I'd seen  in a long time," taking
a moment to linger over the memory.  "Oh my, hazel eyes that
had the weariest look I'd ever seen, you just wanted to put your
arms around him and hug, you know," she asked Scully.

"Yes Maggie," she said softly, "I know, please go on."

Maggie smiled a little smile, oh yes, Agent Scully knew something
about wanting to hug that man, that was pretty obvious.  Maggie
continued,  " Now let me see, we usually don't seat people.  Locals
usually just come in and make themselves at home but it was pretty
obvious he was a stranger and not used to making himself at home.
I gave him a smile and asked if he was here for dinner or just a beer.
At first I thought he didn't hear me but then he looked at me with
those sleepy lids and a bit of a pout and said he was feeling a bit
hungry."  Leaning in to Scully now, she whispered, "I was
feeling a little hungry myself."

"Maggie, please."

"Oh, okay.  Gave him my best table and took good care of him I
did, made sure his food was good and hot.   I noticed he ate real
slow, at first I thought he was just enjoying the food but after a while
 I could see he was almost falling asleep in it."

Maggie looked up at Agent Scully  and asked, "what did he do,
is he really bad?"

Scully wasn't  sure how much she should say at this point but Mulder
being Mulder, it appeared he had stolen another heart, even unshaven.
"He didn't do anything Maggie, it's what.....what he might do.  Unshed
tears sparkled in Dana's eyes, "he's sick Maggie and I just want to find
him and get him home."

Maggie understood, she knew the look.  "He was just getting ready to
pay the check when he stood up and nearly fell down.  Being the
good Samaritan I am", she smirked, "I grabbed him around the
waist and then lowered him very slowly back into his  chair
(smiling she thought, real slowly).  I told him he needed to go
hold up in the motel and at first it didn't look like he was going to
listen but then, I guess I got to him because he took directions to a
local campground and left."

"And that was the last you saw of Mulder?" asked Scully.

"Well no, he must've stayed the night because I ran into him the
next morning at the minimart gas station just down the street.
He was buying some stuff, donuts, I think  and some kind of pills.
Must have been for that cold he looked like he was fighting.  I was
just checking up on him, making sure he was all right," blushed
Maggie, "when Jack came in.  This Mulder bumped right into Jack,"
Maggie laughed, "thinking about it now it was kind of funny
although I doubt he thought so.  Jack let him pass with an excuse
me but, well Jack's a cop, it was almost as if he could smell
something wrong.  He started to walk towards him and I thought
he was going to start harassing the poor guy so I gave him my
best smile and called Jack over to me, giving your friend some
time to slip out and drive away."

"Except for the cold, did he seem all right?"

"He looked okay, still messy and,  a little smelly.  Stuffed up
from the cold I guess, oh yah, I also noticed a bruise on his
forehead, kind of high up, like he hit the top of his head on
something.  And like I said, he was tired, less tired than the
night before but you could tell he had a long way to go before
he was going to be able to really sleep."

"What about the car, what can you tell me about it?"

"Nothing to tell, didn't really pay much attention."

Skinner joined them now, his presence still felt oppressive to her.
She was used to him in his office, not out here in the field and
certainly not looking for Mulder.  She was wary of him, not
sure how to behave.  "Scully I checked with the campsite
down the road.  The owner vaguely remembers a Will Johnson
hecking in that night in a dark-colored Ford.  I showed him the
picture of Mulder and he ID'd it on the spot."

Officer Warninski had joined them again as well.  One more
question announced Scully, "any thoughts, ideas on where he
might be heading?"  Both Maggie and Jack shook their heads no,
neither had been paying attention by the time Mulder pulled out
and Mulder didn't say anything to Maggie that would indicate his
final destination.

Thanking both of them for their time and cooperation, Scully
and Skinner headed to their borrowed car.  A friend of the pilot
had agreed to let them use it.

Scully turned to Skinner, "Maggie described him as being
exhausted and a bit banged up but otherwise healthy."

"The trailer park manager didn't seem to notice anything unusual
bout his appearance, probably gets a lot of guys that look like that ,
looking for a cheap place to catch some sleep."    Skinner started
the car, "what now Scully, we have no idea what direction he's
headed in.?"

"Sir, I'm sure I'll be able to narrow it down to a small area
shortly," insisted Scully.

"How can you be so confident?"

"Well, it's a little unorthodox but I think, considering it's Mulder
were looking for, it'll work," Scully smiled that small smile she
reserved for special occasions, for  those when she knew she had
outwitted Mulder.

Skinner gave her his full attention, "Scully, what have you done?"

"I put out Mulder's picture to every emergency room in the country."

"and...."

"I may have mentioned that if he were to check in with an injury that
they should sedate him heavily and contact me immediately," she
said smugly.

"Shame on you Scully," Skinner feigned shock. "How can you be
so sure he'll need an emergency room?"

Disbelieving she stared at Skinner, "sir, this is Mulder we're talking about!"

"Point taken Scully," agreed Skinner as he started the car, "point taken."

************
Okay, so your head hurts, get used to it, growled Mulder to himself.
He hadn't slept on the bus and he was hungry.  The bus had deposited
him at what appeared to me a local mall in Boulder, Colorado.  He
shoved his bags into two large lockers and headed for a little  bagel
shop on the second floor.  With two plain bagels, cream cheese
in hand along with the largest cup of coffee sold by the place and a
local paper, he parked himself in a corner table near a window.

Looking over the rentals for the area, he circled a couple possibilities.
While thumbing through the rest of the paper he couldn't help but
notice the articles on the Ramsey case, he had forgotten about that
one, to him it was pretty cut and dried, just a matter of pulling
enough evidence together to make it a case.  He'd have to make
sure he didn't hang around Boulder too long,  didn't need to worry
about running into any old friends from the bureau working the case.
God they would like that, tracking and turning in Spooky Mulder, he
knew men and women who would pay for that experience, sobering
suddenly, he realized he knew at least one man (Skinner) and one
woman (Scully) who were being paid to track him.  He also knew
he couldn't underestimate them but he still had hope that after a
while, they would just let it drop and leave him alone.  Remembering
his nightmare in that Wisconsin trailer park he shuddered, no,
mustn't underestimate those two.  Absorbing the rest of the news
quickly, he also read an article documenting  two apparently unrelated
murders that had occurred recently, one in a nearby suburb and
another right on campus, a professor, about 50-55 years from the
picture.  Looked like from the article both men were well liked
and respected by the community although  both died in different
ways, one allegedly had been pushed off a cliff and into a rushing
mountain stream and the other was found dead in his own home
police suspected he had surprised a burglar and been bludgeoned to
death.  Interesting, Mulder flipped the pages, looking for a bit more
information on the cases somehow he felt they were related, he just
wasn't sure how.  Suddenly realizing what he was doing, he laughed
out loud, startling the two ladies sitting at the table next to his, "oh,
uhm, sorry," looking down at the paper, the Dilbert cartoon caught his
eye, " I just love that Dilbert."  His smile was difficult to resist and the
woman at the next table smiled back widely hoping he might reveal a
bit more information about his likes and dislikes.

Taking their interest as his clue to leave, Mulder stopped by the
counter and refilled his coffee before leaving the area.  Next he
located  a group of pay phones off in a quiet corner and began
dialing.  In under 20 minutes, he had two appointments set up to
look over some rental property.  Contacting a local car rental,
they delivered a car to the Sears entrance in under an hour.
American Express this time under the name Will Jakes.
Recording the directions to each sight in his head, he headed
into the mountains.  The first place was one of those dome homes
built in the 60s.  It was pretty run down and easily accessible off
the main road.  Something about living in a round home didn't
appeal and he had hoped for something a little more remote.
Heading further into the mountains, he made his way down
several back roads, thinking  a four-wheel drive vehicle was
going to have to be next on his shopping list.  Without it he'd
never be able to manage this road in bad weather.  Pulling into
a small driveway marked with a large Private Property sign, he
stepped out of his car and walked towards the cabin.

The apparent owner arrived just a few minutes later.  As the man's
truck pulled in Mulder felt his pulse quicken and automatically
reached around his back for the comforting feel of his gun.  Until
he could see the man clearly, he wasn't taking any chances.
Pulling up his truck right behind Mulder's car, the man  slowly
climbed his way out.  He was older, Mulder observed, oh heck
who was he kidding, this guy was old, 85 years if he was a day.
The man, about 5'6 limped his way over to join him.  As he
approached, Mulder felt himself begin to relax and let his arms
fall to his sides.

"Are you Will, Will Jakes," he inquired taking in the young man's
haggard appearance and swollen eyes.  He was old, but not stupid,
 this boy was running from something or someone.

"Yes sir, that would make you Mr. Henderson?"

"You got that right boy, c'mon let's go inside and look around,
get to know each other a little," walking up the stairs he fumbled
to find the keys.

Mulder followed him, walking at the old man's pace, not wanting
to make him feel rushed.  Looking around, Mulder decided small
talk was his best option, he needed to sell this man on his own
harmlessness.  "Beautiful country up here Mr. Henderson."

The old man turned as they entered the cottage, "yes, it is beautiful,
it's the kind of place a man comes when he needs to forget."

Mulder stumbled on the floor board, recovered quickly and innocently
asked, "forget?"

"Now son, you can't fool me!"

Mulder wasn't sure how to continue, "I.....I can't".

The old man chuckled, "son, anyone can see you're either recovering
from a seriously broken heart or you're one of those executives who
 just decided to chuck the corporate world and leave it all behind."

"You're very perceptive Mr. Henderson, I didn't realize it was so
obvious."

"Not to most but you know, I have been around the block a few
times.  So...."

"So...., " Mulder repeated.

"Which is it, a girl or a job?"

"Well actually Mr. Henderson, it's .....," looking down, afraid his
eyes would show the lie, "it's both."

"Both, a woman and your job, poor kid."

Mulder felt bad lying but depending on how you interpreted his
current situation, it could be the way this man suspected.  Scully
was the woman who betrayed him, the FBI was the career that
disappointed him, yes, it made sense.  He felt his eyes well up with
tears again  as he thought of all he had left behind, he didn't hear the
old man talking to him.  Glancing up, the man couldn't miss the
pain in his eyes.

"It's okay Will, I tell you, it'll get better," patting his arm now,
he continued, "it can only get better."

Mulder, not expected any human contact flinched a little.  The old
man saw it and chalked it up to a man who had been burned one
time too many.

"Well, what do you think, do you want to live the life of a
mountain man?"

Mulder looked around, one room, small kitchenette in the corner
table and chairs, double bed, it didn't look bad.  Sparsely furnished,
it needed a good cleaning, but he could handle that.  Entering the
kitchen area he checked the appliances and found a very old but
working stove and refrigerator.  He entered the extremely small
bathroom and was immediately gratified to find it had a shower,
things were looking up.

"A few questions Mr. Henderson," easily slipping into his interview
mode.

"Yah?"

"Hot water?"

"Most of the time."

"This jack, does it work?"

"My God boy, do you think were savages," he laughed.  "Yes, it works,
you just have to call U.S. West and ask for service, I can write down the
actual service address if you like."

"Great, that would be great," Mulder nodded.  "What about,"
raising his eyebrow, "cable?"

"Sorry, not in this area," the old man answered smiling at Will's
disappointment.  A naughty channel boy if he'd ever seen one.
 "Most people up here order up one of those satellite dishes,
that'll get you just about any channel you can imagine."

Mulder perked up, "any channel?"

"Any channel," the man confirmed.

"How much, Mr Henderson?"

"Well, to be honest, it's been sitting empty for a while.  Kind
of far back for most people you know."

Mulder nodded.

"Listen, you seem like a nice young man, how about $400 a
month?'

Mulder scanned the room once more, taking a chance he countered,
"make it $350 and I can provide you with first and last month's rent."

The old man chuckled to himself, he would've taken $300.  Holding
out his hand he agreed, "deal Will, let's shake on it."

Mulder reached out and shook his hand, then reaching for his wallet,
he counted out $700 cash and handed it over.

Eagerly accepting the cash, Henderson asked, "so, what kind of
work do you do now?"

Mulder froze,  he hadn't thought through how to answer that question.
Quickly compiling his own profile in his mind, he found the answer.
"Oh well, I write some, article here and there, just enough to keep
food on the table."

"I read a lot Will, would I have read anything by you?"

"Now Mr. Henderson, what would a successful writer be doing in a
$350 a month cabin," he joked.  "I said I was a writer Mr. Henderson,
not necessarily a very successful one."

Henderson laughed, he liked a man who didn't take himself too
seriously.

Giving Mulder directions to the nearest town for groceries and the
number of the phone company, his landlord went on his way leaving
Mulder alone, alone in his new home.

************
Lone Gunmen Office:  Frohike was alone, Langly and Byers had
gone out to pick up some lunch while he stayed behind and watched
for any word from Mulder.  It had been a few days and they were all
concerned.   While Frohicke searched  the chat rooms for signs of
Mulder, Scully prepared to knock on his door.  Dana Scully was an
attractive woman and although she rarely took advantage of that fact,
she had accepted that there's a first time for everything.  Doing a quick
check on her hair and makeup, she raised her hand to knock.

He was startled when he heard the knock, who could this be, Byers or
Langly would have never knocked.  Logging off quickly, he went to the
door and checked out his visitor through the peephole they had installed.
He was not surprised to see the sexy Dr. Dana Scully, he had been
expecting her.  Opening the door, he allowed her to enter.

"Why Agent Scully, what a pleasant surprise," stepping behind her,
he placed his hands on her shoulders, "may I take your coat," he asked.

Dana had the good grace to blush, it was obvious that Frohike knew
why she was here.  She had planned on charming him just a little, but
knowing him, he had probably already worked out a more detailed
fantasy in his mind.

"Thank you," she shrugged it off to reveal a shorter than usual skirt
and a blouse that gapped a bit when she leaned forward in just the
way she was doing now.  Yes, Frohike knew this was going to be a
very difficult temptation to resist.

Standing quickly he mumbled, "the guys will be back soon, just
grabbing some lunch, would you like something to drink?"

Dana looked up at Frohike with bright, tear-filled eyes, Frohike was lost.

"Agent Scully....Dana, what's the matter," he begged.

Leaning into him, Dana moaned, "oh, it's Mulder....Fox, he's gone
and I'm just sick with worrying about him."  She allowed herself
to lean in a bit more heavily on him.

Frohike gently wrapped his arms around her shoulders and just
held her for a few brief seconds.  Pushing her back gently, he
began,  "you're a very bad girl Dana which usually I find to be a
very exciting trait in a woman," she started to pull back but he
wouldn't release her. Inches from her face now, he whispered
softly, "Fox Mulder has been my friend for too many years.
As much as I am just crude enough to attempt to take advantage
of this situation, it is my friendship with him and," meeting her
eyes now, "you that will not allow me to continue with this
conversation.  Don't ask me, us, to help you find him, he's a
big boy, he'll come home when he's ready and, it's safe."  He
released her then and quickly moved away from her.  He was
very vulnerable when it came to this woman and if she really
decided to turn it on, he doubted he would be able to resist her.

Dana stood, tears miraculously gone.  She advanced slowly on
him until she was in his face.  "Now you listen to me Frohike,
Mulder is sick, do you hear, sick.  I am a medical doctor and
believe me I know a sick puppy when I see one.  I don't want
to find him so I can hurt him, when have I ever hurt him", she
demanded.

"Well, there was that time you shot him, " he challenged.

"Oh well then," waving her hand to the side she sputtered, "that,
that was for his own good."

"And what about that time you turned him in for drilling that
hole in his head," he added.

"The man let another person drill a frigging hole in his head for
God's sake, is that normal Frohike?  Normal people do not let
that happen!"

"Being normal is highly overrated Dana," Frohike actually
purred her name.  "Fox Mulder is not normal, he will never
be normal.  Why do you demand it of him?"

Dana was silent, not wanting to listen but finding herself
unable to avoid it.  Was it possible that this was the reason
Mulder frustrated her so.  Did she have some deep-seated
need to make everyone around her normal?

"Dana", Frohike queried, her eyes snapped up at him, she was
extremely angry.  "Agent Scully," he corrected, "can I ask you
one more question?"

"Go ahead," tired now she didn't even look up.

"Is frigging a navy term?"  He ducked as a large book on the JFK
conspiracy flew at his head.

"You, Byers, Langly AND Mulder are all going to end up in the
same insane asylum," she screamed as she grabbed her coat.  She
shoved her way through a surprised Langly and Byers and ran
down the stairs.

Frohike smiled at them, "Mulder".

They nodded understanding what had just occurred.  They had actually
expected her much earlier.   Langly pushed his  blond hair away from
his face and said, "you know, there are worse people to be in an asylum
with, at least we'd have something to talk about."

"Absolutely," agreed Byers.

"Especially if the lovely Dr. Scully stopped by for a visit now and
then," Frohike added.

Chuckling they went back to work, scanning the sites for news of
Mulder.

************
Jogging  up the mountain path, Mulder was feeling better than he
had in a very long time.  The peace and solitude the mountains
offered him these last few weeks had allowed him the time needed
to come to terms with his  decision to leave his career and his friends
behind.  He had even gotten to the point where he could think about
Scully and Skinner without feeling the anger.  Thinking back, they
thought they were doing the right thing.  That didn't make it right,
but he no longer raged when he remembered their intentions.

Truth be told, he missed DC.  He missed the work, he missed arguing
with Scully and getting bitched at by Skinner.  It may have been a
strange life but it was his.  The last few weeks had kept him busy.
He had cleaned and scrubbed the cabin from top to bottom and
stocked his refrigerator.  He had also managed to purchase an old
truck for trips to and from town.  It looked bad, rusty and dented,
but the engine was solid and it ran well.   The phone had been
connected and he felt a need to contact Scully.  He had been fighting
it for weeks now not really understanding how he could feel so
desperate to run from her and to her at the same time.  He kept
reminding himself of her plans for his future.

Panting hard now  he continued his run up the steep incline of
the path, he was determined to make his five miles today.
Usually that would have been a breeze for him but he had
only just begun to regain his health after that last case and
his week long jaunt across the country.  The altitude up here
still made it difficult for him to breath too.  Bored with his
new found free time, Mulder had begun to take an interest
in the local news.  Five more bodies had turned up since
he had first arrived in the Boulder area.  He accessed all the
newspapers daily in an attempt to follow the case.  The FBI
had been called in but no progress appeared to have been
made.  Gasping for air now, Mulder slowed down to a slow
jog as he reviewed the details in his head.

His cabin had begun to look like his office, photographs of
the victims and any personal information he had been able to
gather through on line searches,  the press and a few other
information sources he had back door access to.  Last week,
feeling brave, he had even accessed the FBI database using
Scully's ID and password to pull a copy of the current case
file, this gave him information the newspaper would never see.
He assumed Scully, like the rest of his co-workers  never  read
those security summaries they sent you confirming records
accessed and it was the only way he could see the crime scene
detail.  It had been a week with no problems, so it looked as
 though his assumption was correct.  Veering towards the left,
he continued uphill.

What Mulder had forgotten was that Scully did not miss anything.
When she had received her summary  of information accessed last
week, she quickly scanned it, preparing to toss it immediately.
The fact that she had been working only on finding Mulder for
the last month made it a little easier to spot of course.  You've
got nerve Mulder, I'll give you that.  Within a few hours she
and Skinner were on their way to Boulder, CO.  At first Scully
couldn't understand why he had been so careless, Mulder usually
wasn't this sloppy.  He wanted that information badly.  Somehow
he had become interested in the Boulder murders and was
probably attempting to solve the crime.  This man was strange,
he takes off, separates himself from everything he knew and
held dear to go out and solve a serial murder case that if VCS
had tried to assign him he would have been pissed.  Never
would she completely understand him.  She was concerned
about him though, he never took care of himself, especially
when he was working.  It had become part of her job to insure
he didn't fall too deeply and right now she wasn't there.  She
did not like the thought of him attempting such a thing
without any support, he was so very vulnerable in these situations.
He was sensitive and perhaps she should just accept that and stop
trying to harden him to the world he lived in.  All