Pieces of Me
Writers:
Jo B. purplefox@uswest.net (Lead Writer)
Nicole Czara18@aol.com
Eli_Anne e_ocon@ix.netcom.comSummary: After Patterson's death, Mulder sadly relates his days of working as a profiler in the BSU to Skinner. Throughout the anguish and pain the two men's relationship blossoms into love.
Disclaimer: The X-Files characters Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Alex Krycek, Walter Skinner, Jeffrey Spender, CSM, the Lone Gunmen, etc. are the property Chris Carter, 1013 productions and Fox Broadcasting.
Warning: This story contains sexual interaction between males. If the subject matter offends you do not read any further.
Feedback is always welcome. Any constructive suggestions are appreciated.
Okay to Archive: please ask first.
***
Arlington Cemetery
November 24, 1999
4:30 p.m.The sky was dark and menacing, hanging heavy with clouds as an early snowstorm approached from the west. The cemetery beneath was filled with the howl of the wind that blew dried leaves across the frozen ground twirling them with a light dusting snow before noisily piling them up against the gray tombstones.
Walter Skinner parked his car behind another on the empty stretch of road that ran through the cemetery. He climbed out and shielded his eyes against the biting wind as he stood searching the rows of tombstones until his eyes lighted on a lone figure standing motionless in front of a freshly covered grave. The only movement was the billowing of the long, black overcoat as the wind whipped it away from the man's lanky body. Skinner made his way across the field of gravestones to the man's side.
"Agent Mulder," he said, sideling up beside the agent, he took in Mulder's ruddy complexion and how the snowflakes sparkled lightly in his chestnut hair. The younger man was cleanly shaven and still dressed in the black suit from the funeral early this afternoon. He calculated from Mulder's appearance that he must have been out here for a while, probably stayed after the funeral.
"Sir, what are you doing here?" Mulder murmured with a slight clattering of teeth. He did not look up from where his eyes rested on the headstone.
Skinner was here out of concern for Mulder. The younger man hadn't been into the office since finding out about Patterson's murder on Sunday. "I'm sorry, Mulder, I know at one time you and Patterson were close. His death must have come as a shock to you," Skinner said, studying the younger man's face. There was a slight narrowing around Mulder's eyes and a tightening around his mouth.
"Close?" Mulder chuckled bitterly. "I suppose as close as a person can be to his rapist, sir."
Skinner was temporarily speechless. It took him a moment to recover. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked cautiously, reaching out to place a gloved hand on Mulder's arm.
Mulder looked up sadly from the grave to the hand on his sleeve and up to the concerned brown eyes then back at the tombstone. "Surprisingly, yes. I would like to talk about it now," he said softly.
Skinner put his hand on the small of Mulder's back. "C'mon, Mulder, let's get out of the cold. I'll fix you a hot butter rum at my place. Then we can talk." Skinner's outer calm belied an inner turmoil. Raped? If that bastard Patterson weren't already dead, he'd kill him himself.
The snow had started falling harder as they strolled back to their cars. Skinner turned to face Mulder as they each stopped beside their cars. "You can park in the guest space next to mine in my building's underground parking ramp, just follow me back."
"Yes, sir," Mulder replied, sliding behind the wheel of his car, he glanced one final time across the field of headstones to Patterson's grave, assuring himself once more that the man was finally dead, and forever out of his life. He started his car wondering if he was really ready to talk about this yet, thirteen years and it still seemed like it happened only yesterday.
***
Skinner sat on the sofa and waited patiently as Mulder sipped from the mug and stared blankly out the patio door at the falling snow. It was already dark outside and Skinner had turned on the outside balcony lights for Mulder so he could watch the snow while collecting his thoughts.
Raped. The word kept churning around inside Skinner's head as he watched the younger man. The A.D. could understand why someone would desire Mulder, he had wanted him himself for a long time. Ever since the first moment he saw the agent over a decade ago. However, to resort to rape and why hadn't Mulder reported it? Skinner shook his head sadly, why was pretty obvious; male FBI agents do not get raped, not in this society. Mulder's voice pulled him out of his daze.
"Sir, I don't think it was a coincidence that Patterson was murdered on Sunday," Mulder said suddenly.
"Why is that, Mulder?" Skinner asked curious to hear this new unexpected insight.
"November 21 was the day we first had sex," Mulder replied softly while gazing out at the snow.
From Skinner's six-year association with Mulder, he knew the date had another significance to his agent, it was November 21, 1973 when Samantha Mulder was abducted. He didn't bring that up though, instead he asked, "You think someone murdered Patterson because of what he did to you twelve or thirteen years ago?"
"Sir, call it a gut feeling, but yeah, I know that's why he was murdered."
Skinner was worried, he knew the details regarding Patterson's death. Patterson's penis had been burnt through with acid and a wooden broom handle had been shoved up his rectum, all while Patterson was restrained to his bed at the State Hospital for the criminally insane. It was clearly a sex crime. Would this person target Mulder next? "Do you have any idea who would have killed him? Who else would have known about you and Patterson?"
"Diana suspected, she used to question me about when I worked for Patterson, but I never told her or anyone about what happened between Bill and myself."
"Mulder, you said it was the first time you had sex with him … was it consensual at that time?" Skinner could see Mulder's face reflected in the glass, his hazel eyes held such misery and sorrow.
Mulder turned to face him, looking around the room nervously refusing to meet his eyes, he finally focused on Skinner's tie. "Sir, I wasn't in any condition to refuse him or fight him that first night. He took what he wanted and made me feel that I needed it. It wasn't until later, much later, that I realized how he used my mental state to get what he wanted. Bill was a master at reading people and playing mind games. He would toy with all of the agents under him, making them work harder and better. Only with me he went a bit further, turning it into a sexual conquest. He used me to fulfill his sick fantasies for power and control. It was never truly consensual between us."
Skinner's face turned stormy. "How long did this affair last?"
"It ended when I transferred to the VCS as a field agent under Reggie Purdue, it seemed like the only way I could get away from him. Sir, don't get me wrong, Bill was an exceptional Section Chief, he knew how to get the most from his people."
"Agent Mulder, he abused his position. No wonder the BSU had the highest turnover rate."
"It also had the highest proficiency and solve rate," Mulder replied.
"Proficiency at the cost of how many agents? Mulder, why didn't you go to the OPR?"
"Sir, I … " Mulder swallowed nervously, looking into the empty mug.
"Mulder, its Walter. We're not in the office now," Skinner said gently, hoping to remove the professional barrier that was separating them. He wanted Mulder to feel comfortable enough to confide in him.
"How could I go to the OPR? Si … Walter, it took me years to get my head on straight again. When I left the BSU for the VCS, Patterson made me feel like I had personally betrayed him. I'm a trained Psychologist for God's sake! I should have spotted Patterson for what he was. It was my fault! If I would have told him *NO* loud enough those first few times none of this would have happened." Mulder turned abruptly and went back to looking out at the snow.
Skinner shook his head sadly, for a trained Psychologist Mulder should know that this wasn't his fault, and yet he continues blame himself for Patterson's behavior. He rose and walked over to Mulder, placing a tentative hand on Mulder's shoulder afraid he'd spook the younger man. "Mulder, it wasn't your fault. Bill Patterson abused his position. He took advantage of you when you were young and vulnerable. You did nothing wrong," he said, reaching for the mug clenched tightly in Mulder's hands he pried his fingers from it. "C'mon, let's sit … " Skinner was startled suddenly as Mulder threw his arms around his waist and buried his face into his broad shoulder and broke down sobbing.
Skinner stood with the discarded mug in one hand and not sure what to do with his other hand as Mulder's lean frame shook against his body. He dropped the mug on the carpeted floor and wrapped both arms around Mulder, holding him protectively. Skinner was embarrassed by the lust he felt for Mulder under the younger man's present circumstances, but damn Mulder felt so good in his arms. Skinner rubbed Mulder's back and tightened his hold. Warm. Solid. Sweet. He wanted to protect Mulder and make him feel safe again. "Ssh, Fox, I'm here for you," he murmured soothingly.
"Not Fox … Bill used to call me Fox," Mulder hiccuped, pulling away, wiping at his eyes. "Sorry, sir. God, I'm such a pathetic wimp. Look, Walter, tomorrow's Thanksgiving, and I know you must have plans. It's getting late so I'll get out of your hair," he rambled nervously, blushing.
"Mulder, if you haven't noticed there is no way you can get into my hair," Skinner quipped, then turned serious. "Look I'm only going over to my folk's place tomorrow afternoon. They live in Baltimore so we have all night to talk. I want to help you through this. Please, let me. Talk to me." He wanted to ask about Mulder's plans for tomorrow, but one step at a time he thought.
"I don't know where to beginning," Mulder sighed, walking over to the sofa he sat huddled against the arm. He really wanted to get this off his chest. It had haunted him for thirteen years, just to have someone else to help ease this burden from his shoulders would be nice. He felt so tired.
Skinner sat next to him, not close enough for their bodies to touch, but close enough that if Mulder needed physical contact he was there for him. "Mulder, start at the beginning, tell me about your first day working for Patterson."
"My first day." He smiled weakly. "I was really excited. Only the elite agents got assigned to work for the BSU, and they selected me right out of the Academy."
Skinner interrupted. "Yes. I remembered the controversy that your getting assigned to there caused around the bureau. Agents needed at least two years of field experience before they could be assigned to the BSU. It was rumored that Patterson went directly to the Director to get you assigned to him. The section head of VCS was furious."
Mulder chuckled sadly. "I wish now that I would have started out as a field agent in the VCS, instead of working for the BSU." He remembered the animosity toward him by the other agents. He had felt isolated while under Patterson. When he thought back Bill had gone out of his way to stroke the fires of jealousy toward him with the other agents within the BSU, effectively closing off any chance for him to strike up a friendship with one of them. There was no one that he could turn to for help and it wasn't until he was assigned to Reggie Purdue that he made his first real friend inside the bureau.
Skinner reached out and squeezed Mulder's shoulder sympathetically. "Go on, Mulder."
"My first day working for Patterson was October 24, 1986. I recall how anxious I was to make a good impression. I hardly slept a wink the night before … "
***
2630 Hegal Place, Alexandria
Apartment 42
October 24, 1986
7:40 a.m.Mulder whistled happily as he made the bed. He really liked his new apartment, it suited his needs perfectly. The location was ideal. There was even a park close by that would be perfect for jogging and shooting hoops. The apartment itself was inexpensive considering the location and its size. The hardwood floors were polished to a high sheen, the windows sparkled warmly with the breaking dawn. In addition, the rooms were good size, with the exception of the kitchen, but he seldom cooked anyway preferring to order out. He was lucky to have found this place, or more so it found him. Mulder shook his head at the weird circumstance surrounding his new home. Someone had slipped a note under the door of his dorm room at Quantico. The note had the address of this apartment on it and mentioned that the first three months rent had been paid as a graduation present. It was signed a friend of your father's. Mulder had thrown it away, not wanting anything to do with his father or his friends. However, after a disappointing week of apartment hunting, he gave up and pulled the address from his photographic memory. When he saw the place he instantly fell in love with it. He had spent the weekend moving in and cleaning, and he still had some unpacking to do, and his fish tank to set up.
He wandered into *his* kitchen, smiling, and poured himself a mug of coffee and sipped it while straightening up around the apartment. Mulder anxiously kept glancing at his watch wanting to leave for work, but not wanting to get there too early. He set his mug down and arranged his small video tape collection, he had all three StarWars movies, Alien, Brazil, and the Terminator. His friend from England was sending him the latest Dr. Who episodes. Mulder went back into the kitchen and rinsed out his mug, dried it, and put it back in the cupboard. Then he strolled into the bedroom and pulled his brown suit coat off the wooden hanger. He had spent a small fortune on suits, using part of the trust fund his grandfather had left him.
Mulder frowned at his reflection. His nose was too big, he had a disgusting mole on his cheek, and his bottom lip stuck out too far. God he was ugly. What Phoebe ever saw in him he'd never know, it was no wonder she dumped him for that middle aged lawyer. He took a deep breath. "Okay, Fox, don't fuck up or you'll be packed off to the VCS where you belong. And don't go around the Hoover Building talking to yourself they'll think you're nuts, and that would not be good," Mulder quipped, checking his gun and making sure he had his badge before heading out the door and into a new chapter of his life. For once he was thinking about his future and not focusing on the past.
***
Nicole's turn!