**Just again to save confusion Fox Mulder aged 15. I may have dates and years mixed up but just give me artistic licence!!**
Fox Mulder slowly let his head drop onto the soft crook of his elbow and let his heavy eyelids fall, plunging him into the darkness he'd been avoiding for so long. The pile of books beneath his arms offered little comfort but having developed his insomnia so well he took the sleep where ever he could get it. Oblivious to the motions in the library around him, he watched the red and blue lights swirl before his eyes, flashing images and emotions through his mind and he woke with a start, her name cursing his lips as he realised his surroundings.
Ignoring the curious glances from the other patrons he quickly gathered his books and slipped them into his bag as he left the building and jumped onto his bike. He pedalled quickly away from the scene and soon found himself cycling the deserted pathway in the forest park that lined the town.
Looking at the river that ran alongside the path he watched the water rush ahead of him bouncing off the rocks and corroding the soft bed on its way. Fox jumped off the bike and tossed it beneath a tree as he arrived at the weir. Balancing carefully he slowly made his way across the lip of the man-made weir and made it to the other side where the forest was thicker and seemed more foreign.
He sat at the edge of the river on a flat rock and removed his shoes and socks before slipping his feet into the cool inviting water. Lying back against the rock that was still warm from the day's sun he held up his book and continued to read. As twilight came and transformed the sky into a menagerie of colours before displaying an incredible tapestry of constellations and planets.
Fox sighed deeply and thought of the empty place settings at the dinner table and refused to move. The mere thought of having to sit through another silent meal with his parents made him mad enough to think about leaving for good. Laughing at his juvenile responses he thought of all the different times he had packed his bag only to find himself perched on that very same rock pondering his next move.
A muffled scream from behind him made him sit up and turn around into the forest. He'd never heard a gunshot before and the that crack rang through his ears was so unfamiliar it didn't scare him until the smell of the powder burned his nostrils. He ducked low on the rock and waited to hear more but all he could hear was footsteps running in the opposite direction. When their sound had faded beyond his reach he slowly crept up to the edge of the rock to see if anything was waiting for him. His heartbeat against his chest sounding out a rhythm he'd felt before and a sudden wave of nausea washed over him. He fought to control it but it burst through his body and he released it with a cry.
Pulling himself off the rock he moved cautiously over to the forest where the noise had come from. His sleeve felt rough against his lips but he dragged it across his mouth in a futile effort to rid himself of the foul taste as he stepped through the bush. The hand was sticking out from under a pile of leaves and he froze at the sight of the bare forearm. His mind staggered with possibilities as he stepped closer and moved a few of the leaves with his foot.
As the stunned face was revealed Fox lurched back in horror at the vacant eyes and fallen expression that met him. He fell back onto the hard forest floor and scrambled to his feet already running before he was standing fully. Taking no time to balance on the weir's wall he ran across heedless grabbing his bike mid motion and running with it until he had enough clear room to jump on and pedal home.
The porch light was still on when he jumped the stairs in one go and bounded into the house. He ventured slowly into the dining room where two undisturbed place setting stared back at him tauntingly. Turning his back on them he fled up to his room and fell onto the bed. Part of his conscious urged him to call the police and report what he saw but the rest of him, the part that had lost all faith in the judicial system and law enforcement ignored it.
The night was hot and sticky and he slept little, tossing and turning in the air throwing his sheets to the ground. He stood up from the bed tired of moving around in the stillness, feeling the night close to his skin and walked over to the open window. Letting the breeze caress his damp chest he looked out onto the street and spotted the squad car approaching his drive silently. His heart began it's feverant beat again as he grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of shorts and raced to the front door to open it before they knocked.
"Hello son," the police officer said removing his hat and smiling oddly at Fox.
"What can I do for you sir?" Fox said calmly amazed at how loud his voice was as it echoed around the empty porch.
"I'd like a word with your father, is he in?"
"He's sleeping sir, can't you come back tomorrow?"
"No. I'm afraid I can't."
"I'll just go and get him then…" Fox said stalling for more time as the police officer stepped closer and walked past him into the front room.
Fox looked on as the two men stood by the fire that hadn't been lit in months before bolting upstairs to his parent's bedroom. He knew his father slept in here alone and his mother had opted to sleep in Samantha's room and for once he was grateful. Knocking lightly he pushed the door open only to find his father sitting on the edge of the bed staring out the window at nothing.
"Dad," Fox said softly.
"What is it Fox? Who were you talking to?"
"Some police officers are downstairs and they want to talk to you."
Fox watched as his fathers face fell showing the pain and frustration so clearly that he had managed to hide so well all these years. It broke his heart to see the shaky stance his father took as he stood away from the bed and ambled slowly past him and down the stairs. He followed him at a small distance not wanting to disturb whatever the cops had to say but needing to know what would be said.
"What can I do for you Derek?" his father said as he stepped into the living room.
"Sorry to disturb you William but I have some disturbing information and I wanted to be the one…"
"Samantha…is it Samantha?" his father managed to say wanting meet it fully if the end was finally here.
"No sir, no…it's Fox."
"Fox? What do you mean?" his father said confusion racking his voice as he glanced up to the staircase where Fox sat huddled against the rails.
"There was a murder. In fact it's the third one this week. Out in Andrew's Park."
"What's this got to do with Fox?" he asked angry now at the implications he knew were about to come.
"We found some of his things at the scene."
Fox watched as he father reached out for something he couldn't see and studied it closer before calling him into the room.
"Yes dad?" he said walking into the room and seeing his sneakers and his book on the table between all the men.
"Were you out at Andrews Park?"
"Yeah, I went out after school…I saw…it was…"
"What happened son?" the police officer said resting a heavy hand on his shoulder, in an effort to calm his panic.
"I went out to the park to study. I was lying on the big rock by the edge of the weir and I heard something…sounded like a scream."
"What were you doing in the park? Your mother told you-," his father began but the officer stopped him.
"Then I heard a gunshot, I wasn't sure at first but it smelled like burning," he said looking straight at the policeman trying desperately to convey the strength he was trying to feel.
"Did you see anything?"
"No sir, I heard footsteps running away so I went to look…"
"What did you see?"
"A young girl, half buried in the leaves," he said matter of factly. "Was she dead?"
"I'm afraid she was. It was Elsie Burke, sophomore at Lincoln High."
Fox swallowed hard as he went through his mind in search of her name.
English Lit 12th grade, won poetry competition, he thought cursing his photographic memory not for the first time.
"We need to verify you're story Fox," Derek said as he wrote in his notebook.
But his father placed a protective arm around Fox's shoulder making him jump as his father hadn't touched him in years.
"Is Fox under suspicion?"
"Not at all sir. We'll verify his whereabouts from the other murders but this MO is too wretched to be a boy."
"So what happens now?" he asked again, loosening the grip he had on his sons shoulder.
"We already have his prints from the elimination a couple of years ago…" Derek said but his voice trailed off as he spotted the look of anguish that crossed both of the Mulder faces before him.
"Why didn't you report this sooner?" Derek asked Fox when he looked up from his notebook.
"I…I don't know," was all he could manage."
"Well, we'll get back to you tomorrow about the progress and dates."
"Thank you Derek," his father said as he walked them out to the door and Fox sat heavily into the couch waiting for the barrage of accusations when his father would return.
"What the hell do you think you were doing?" he yelled before he made it into the room fully.
"What?"
"Your mother told you not to go out to the park after dark," his father shouted pointing a finger at his chest.
"Jesus Dad I'm fifteen, I can take care of myself."
"What if that killer saw you?" what if he shot you?"
"What if he did? It's not like you'd miss me…you hardly know I'm alive," Fox shouted back matching his fathers fury.
"What are you talking about? Of course we'd miss you."
"For the past three years all I ever hear is you and Mum fighting. No matter what goes on with me you're not satisfied, I can never get your forgiveness for letting them take her," he shouted his voice cracking towards the end as the tears welled up harder in his eyes.
"Fox-," his father said calmly but Fox's anger had carried him to a place he only thought or dreamt about and nothing could make him go back.
"No, don't patronize me with platitudes of love and forgiveness, the words mean nothing to me when I know the hatred you feel."
"You don't understand Fox, maybe some day you will," his father said quietly.
"I never want to understand what it is that goes on in your head, I never want to know the feelings you have."
His father looked on helplessly as Fox poured his anger into the room between them. The bubbling hatred for his own father finally boiled over with the gentle protective touch he got earlier and he could stop it. He hated the accusing look of blame he got from his parents every time they looked at him so finally he wanted to stand up to it, challenge it, refuse to wait by helplessly until it washed away. This time it wouldn't wash away, this time he'd make sure they knew how he felt and he wanted nothing less than the truth from them.
From the corner of his eye he saw his mother slowly descending the stairs and cautiously enter the room where Fox and his father stood opposite sides of the room facing away from each other.
"What's going on?" she said carefully.
"Nothing mum…" Fox said unable to meet her enquiring gaze.
"William?"
"Fox is angry, he thinks we blame him for Samantha's disappearance."
"Blame you dear? never," she said crossing the room and gathering her son into a hug.
"Mum, it was me," he cried, "I was here, I was supposed to watch her."
"There was nothing you could have done," she mumbled against his hair.
"I could have saved her…"
His mother thought back to that night where they found him curled up in the living room floor, The Magician was playing on the TV behind him but it did nothing to destroy the trance he sat in. They shook him and slapped him tying to bring him round but he stayed like that for the rest of the week, not talking, eating or moving.
"Fox, you did everything you could have done," she said again.
"I froze mum, I froze and they took her right in front of me."
"Shhh," she said against his head as his words crumbled into tears and he hugged her back tightly.