So I finally got to posting this. It's hard seperating this story into chapters. It kind of blurs together. Anyway, this is THE LAST T rated chapter. I promise. And then we get to the hard-core stuff and then the sex. So there. And again I must remind you that my email is DOWN. Please don't be angry with me if I cannot send you the hyperlink. Believe me: I am suffering as much as you are. I can't email my cousin. And she's getting angry with me.

Disclaimer: Uh, do I really have to say it again? I don't own the X-Files or this story.
Spoilers: The movie. And the past chapters have a little from some of the TV shows. No biggie.
Rating: T. Until next chapter.
Read. Enjoy. I may be posting another re-post from another website. God, I find these things and they make me cry and... sheesh. In the meantime I will continue working on my extended story for the X-Files. For those of you that have been asking me, I will not post it until I am finito. Doing otherwise is a jinx to my X-File stories. It has been proven.


A deep agonizing moan woke Mulder from the dark blackness of sleep. Immediately the painful throbbing that filled his head brought into focus that the moan had come from this own throat. Still deep in the haze of unconsciousness, Mulder tried to move his hand to the back of the head. The ache at the base of his skull took an immediate backseat to the realization that his hands were bound above his head.

Slowly opening his eyes, the room blurred and began to spin as his

stomach lurched toward his throat. Another low moan broke the eerie silence as Mulder tightly squeezed his eyes closed and took a long, deep breath. Minutes passed as he concentrated only on taking the slow, deep even breaths that would abate the nauseating spin the room seemed intent on taking.

When his stomach began to calm, Mulder tried to remember what had happened: walking down the stairs, footprints in the hallway, closed door, pain, Scully. Where was Scully? Physically trying to shake the fog from his thoughts, Mulder moved his head from side to side. Using the sharpness of the pain that ensued to bring him to full alertness, he opened his eyes.

It took his eyes a few minutes to adjust, but thankfully the room was lit only lantern and soft flame. The object of his search came into view instantly. Scully lay motionless on a steel exam table directly in front of him. Panic surged into his mind until he was able to detect the rise and fall of her chest.

"Scully?"

No response.

"Scully?"

Still no response.

It was time to get them both the hell out of there. He seemed to be lying on a make-shift hospital bed. There was a mattress under him and bars framed the bed. His hands, he viewed looking carefully above his head, were handcuffed together. The handcuffs were twined through the bars of the bed. Giving his arms one hard downward pull assured him that the steel was sturdy -- and dammit -- they were his own handcuffs. Velcro straps secured his ankles to the bed and a leather belt of sorts tightly held him to the bed at the waist. The bed was tipped at an angle so that Mulder was positioned almost up-right facing the center of the dark room. Facing Scully.

Scully was bound in the same manner, except her arms were at her sides secured by velcro at the wrists. The steel table was also at a vertical angle. Facing Mulder.

Medical equipment surrounded the table where Scully was held. Looking to his left, Mulder saw a few of the same machines, although not as many. He recognized the EKG machine and the heart monitor from his many trips to the hospital, the other equipment he would have to wait for Scully to identify.

He noticed that the machines were lit up, indicating that they were being supplied with electricity, yet the room was lit by lanterns. He guessed they were being held in the basement of the house. The floor was a gray cement, the ceiling was the same rotting wood that made up the rest of the house. Heavy, dark drapes concealed the area behind Scully and the two walls on the left and the right. There was a television set on his right and several Bunsen burners were located on small tables throughout the room. The burners heated glass beakers filled with vibrantly colored boiling liquid. There were no windows that he could see, and no doors.

"Mulder?" Her voice was soft, weak.

Mulder's gaze snapped back to see Scully groggily moving her head from side to side, as though trying to rid herself of the annoying blackness that was pervasively trying to recapture her.

"Come on Scully. Open your eyes." Mulder coaxed.

Her eye lids were so heavy. Her lips were dry and the effort it was going to take to wake up seemed too much to grasp at the moment.

"Come on, Scully."

Scully focused on Mulder's voice, took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Her vision was blurred and it took a few moments to focus. Her first sight was Mulder, watching her expectantly.

"It's about time you woke up," he joked, relieved to see her conscious.

"Sorry," she replied weakly.

Scully closed her eyes again and stretched her neck from side to side. Trying to move and stretch the rest of her body, she opened her eyes and took formal notice of the restraints.

"Where the hell are we Mulder?" Scully sighed, taking in not only her own restraints but Mulder's also.

"I think it must be the basement. There's power coming from somewhere, but no lights. I don't think the room is sound proof, but you can hardly hear the storm. I think the drapes on the walls are to muffle the sound."

Mulder noticed Scully trying to concentrate on what he was saying but her eyes kept drifting closed.

"Scully, did you get hit on the back of the head?"

"No," she answered still groggy from the effects of the drug. "He used chloroform or something similar."

"He?"

"I hit him before I blacked out. He groaned like a he."

"Way to go Scully, make him angry." Mulder teased.

"Did you get hit on the back of the head?"

"He came up from behind me," he explained, his pride still a bit bruised.

"How's your vision? Headache?" Scully fought the lack of control she was feeling by slipping into a familiar role...taking care of Mulder.

"My vision was fine, Scully, the moment I woke up and saw you there," he admitted quietly. "What happened after I left you?" He asked quickly shifting the conversation.

"I found the others. The people reported missing. They're dead,

Mulder." Scully reported softly after a moment.

"How?"

"The backstairs Melinda referred to led to a room. It was an open

grave. There were bodies all over the floor. I didn't get time to determine cause of death."

"Melinda?"

"We were separated," Scully answered briskly. "Did you come up with a way to get us out of here while I was unconscious?"

"Well, I had a great plan A, but then I remembered that I brought the real handcuffs and not the fake plastic ones." He clanged the cuffs loudly against the bed frame for effect.

"I don't suppose you came up with a plan B?"

"I did, of course it depends on if you woke up with telekinetic

powers..."

She shook her head slowly, looking around the room.

"What's behind me?"

"A heavy dark drape, a table with a Bunsen burner heating a purple liquid and next to the burner..." she strained her neck trying to get a better look. "I think it's our guns."

"What's all the medical equipment? I recognize the EKG machine and the heart monitor."

She scanned the machines next to him and those to her immediate left.

"The rest look like simple monitoring devices: Blood pressure; Pulse rate; Galvanized Skin Response monitor. My chemistry's rusty -- I don't know what all the liquid on the burners are."

"What about the machine on the cart next to you?"

Scully twisted her head and tried to get a glance at the cart Mulder was referring to. It was too far back for her to see. She tried to shift her body to slide closer to the edge of the table. Although she couldn't move her body, she did notice that the restraint on her right side was loose.

"Mulder, I think I can get my right hand free," she whispered quietly, beginning to struggle to pull her hand away from the restraint. Mulder watched her silently.

When her hand was almost free from the Velcro straps, the curtain behind her parted and a figure stepped through the folds of material. Scully stopped her struggle and looked up to catch Mulder's eye.

The figure was hidden behind the exam table and slowly Melinda walked around the table and into the center of the room.

"Melinda!" Mulder exclaimed relieved. "Untie Scully. We can all still get out of here alive. Scully's right hand is almost free...:"

"Mulder!" Scully shouted trying to stop him from revealing too much to the woman.

"Help get her off the table." Mulder finished not understanding

Scully's warning.

"Of course." Melinda answered.

Melinda stepped between the two tables, facing Scully. She met Scully's gaze. Scully found a cold stab of fear as Melinda's empty eyes locked onto hers. Melinda took Scully's hand into her own and pushed it firmly down onto the bed.

"Hold still." Melinda instructed as she pulled the velcro strap away from Scully's wrist. Then, still holding Scully's hand and never breaking eye contact, Melinda tightened the strap and re-fastened it over Scully's wrist.

"What the hell is going on?" Mulder again futilely struggled to free himself.

"Whatever's happening in this house -- she's a part of it." Scully answered, her eyes never leaving Melinda's, daring her to deny the accusation.

The curtain behind Scully parted a second time and a deep masculine voice filled the room.

"Very good, Agent Scully. Or do you prefer Dr. Scully?"

Mulder and Scully both strained to see the owner of the voice while

Melinda stepped back into the shadows of the darkened room.

"I'd say you were a master of your craft, one of the FBI's finest, but alas, you are the one strapped to an exam table. Tsk, Tsk," the voice mocked.

"Who are you?" Mulder demanded, still trying to get a glimpse of the elusive figure masked within the folds of the dark drapes. "What do you want?"

"Fox Mulder. Agent Fox Mulder. Answers only to Mulder, hates the name Fox. You were on the FBI's fast track, until you lost your ambition and, some say, your mind, in the stars."

"Is this how we're going to spend the evening? Listening to a coward behind a curtain prove to us that he took our badges and did a little hacking into our files over the Internet?" Mulder shouted in the direction he had last heard the voice.

A man stepped from the shadows and quickly encircled Scully's throat with his hand. Her body tensed but she refused to flinch in reaction.

"No Mulder. I have a much better way to spend our evening," the man hissed into Scully's ear.

"Get your hand off of me." Scully warned, her voice low and strong.

Not moving a muscle, and defying him by not looking him in the eye,

Scully waited. She felt the slight pressure of his fingers tighten briefly before leaving her neck.

"Whatever the lady likes...for now."

He walked away from her, focusing his attention now on Mulder.

"Good catch, the Internet." He pulled a badge from each pocket and set them on a nearby table. "Your file said that you were highly intelligent, it must be just your career you're wasting, not your intellect."

Scully studied the man as he walked away from her. Tall, hair that had once been dark was now prematurely graying. Slender...too slender. The white lab coat he wore hung off his skeletal frame. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes were deep caverns of darkness. She could still feel his cold bony fingers around her neck -- squeezing her throat. A dread like none other she had ever experienced chilled her blood.

"The Internet? The machines? No lights? What's with all the doom and gloom?" Mulder questioned.

"Atmosphere," he replied dramatically. "Don't tell me you don't appreciate the atmosphere I've created for you. I'm hosting this little gathering, just trying to make it more memorable for you. Not that I'm giving you time to remember it. That is a shame. I've gone to a lot of work here."

"Don't you think it's about time you told us who you are and what you want?" Scully asked, tiring of the melodrama.

"Oh, forgive me," he apologized turning to face her. "Let me introduce myself," he bowed and then straightened. "My name is Ethan Rupert." He stepped closer to Scully, emphasizing each word. "Doctor Ethan Rupert."

"Is that supposed to mean something?" Mulder asked snidely.

Scully's mind raced as Mulder spoke, she searched her memory for the familiar name. She knew that she had heard it somewhere, maybe read it. If she could just remember...

"Oh, my God." She spoke softly -- a whisper -- as she remembered.

"Flattery, my dear Dana will get you nowhere," he returned the whisper, running his finger down her cheek.

Scully twisted her face away from his touch.

"You didn't have to hack into our files," she accused. "Although I'm sure your old passwords no longer work."

"What's going on Scully?"

"Dr. Ethan Rupert," she repeated. "Mulder, do you remember the scientist that disappeared almost a year ago -- the big cover-up? Everyone knew he was working for the government doing research but after he disappeared no one could explain what he was researching."

"You cracked." Mulder grinned, obviously remembering the tale.

Rupert spun toward him, his eyes blazing with fury.

"You don't know what you're talking about." Rupert fumed, becoming agitated by Mulder's words.

"Think again, Dr. Frankenstein. You were working on some secret project for that branch of the government that doesn't exist, at least on paper, and you snapped. You killed two people in the lab. The military pulled your funding -- but you didn't stop. There were four more deaths before you went underground in DC. Then the higher-ups got a lead on you and you disappeared."

"Too bad for you that you won't live through the night. It would be quite the feather in your cap if you were to bring me in."

"I find feathers gaudy." Mulder stated smoothly.

"From this moment -- until your last -- it doesn't matter what you find." Rupert snarled.

"Is that what this is about -- why those people died -- research?" Scully questioned, drawing Rupert away from Mulder. "You are crazy."

"Stop saying that!" Rupert ordered through clenched teeth.

Scully watched his eyes fill with rage and she steeled herself against the blow she knew was coming as he raised his fist to strike. She heard the clanging of Mulder's handcuffs as he tried to break his way free of the binds. Just before his fist would have connected with her jaw, Scully saw Melinda step out from the shadows.

"Ethan," she said sharply.

His fist stopped only inches from her face. His fingers uncurled and ran down her cheekbone -- causing her stomach to wretch in disgust.

"Everything is under control." Ethan said easily turning to Melinda and taking her hand for a moment before disappearing into the shadows of the room himself.

"You have no idea of how hard this has been for him." Melinda spat in defense. "He gave his entire life to those people. He did everything -- everything -- he was ordered to do. He carried out orders that no one else would have been capable of doing. They gave him an assignment and when he carried it out...they branded him a criminal."

"What are you, his lab assistant?" Mulder asked, sarcasm lacing in his words. "Your real name wouldn't happen to be Igor, would it?"

"No, Agent Mulder, I'm his wife."

Ethan continued to circle in the shadows, muttering softly to himself and waving his arms.

"What is this about? What is he researching?" Scully asked keeping an eye on Rupert.

"It didn't start out like this. The military put him through med-school. Someone decided he had special talents early on and he was assigned to a covert research project studying methods of extracting information."

"Methods of torture." Mulder realized.

"Not at first." Melinda said quickly. "At first he was studying fight and flight responses and how to synthetically mimic the biological stages of the flight response. Ethan felt that if he heightened anxiety, a person would be more apt to divulge information. He ran tests and collected the data." Melinda explained beginning to pace back and forth between Mulder and Scully. "The procedure was very promising, but they wanted it faster. Ethan experimented with different chemical combinations and he succeeded. He again took his data to the men in charge, it wasn't good enough. The drugs only worked in 60 of the cases and could cause immediate death in cases where people were allergic. They said they didn't have time to wait

for a drug to take effect. It needed to be faster. It needed to be better." Her voice grew softer and she cast a quick glance over to Ethan. "Something happened to Ethan, he became driven to please these people. He took each rejected idea personally. He saw each attempt as a failure. He spent all his days and nights locked in the research lab studying human nature. He took note of each biological and psychological weakness known to man. He lost himself in that lab -- he killed himself for those people. And for what? One day he came out of the lab and said that he had found what they were looking for. He went to them, told them what he found. He reported that the procedure was 95 effective. They told him to prove it."

"The first two deaths in the lab?" Scully asked and Melinda nodded.

"They didn't like it, said that the new procedure left too much to chance. They said the research needed to stop. They weren't interested in it anymore -- they had moved on. But Ethan, Ethan couldn't move on, he couldn't understand how anyone could deny how perfect his method was. He tried to prove it to them twice more. The next thing we knew there were police questioning our friends about where we were. The same people who had put this entire plan into motion were now trying to arrest Ethan because he was doing exactly what they told him to do."

"He kills people." Scully stated bitterly.

"He kills people because that's what the government pays him to do. They convinced him. They convinced him that if he wasn't willing to work with them, that he was a traitor to his country. He didn't want to continue with the research after they had rejected the drug treatment. He had tried to get out, but then they threatened his life. When that didn't work, they threatened my life. That's when he came up with his current method."

"Melinda, the government doesn't pay him any more. They are not going to suddenly take him back after all he's done."

"You think I'd go back there?" Ethan stepped back into the conversation and back into the center of the room. "I'm not giving my results to a government that doesn't appreciate my methods. People with no loyalty, no creativity. People I gave up my life for and are now trying to hunt me down like a dog. I have one more trial to run and then my research data gets sold to the highest bidder."

"One more trial? That's us?"

"That's you. Prep her Melinda."

"Since you seem to be so proud of this so called method, would you care to let us in on what it is?" Mulder asked as he watched Melinda walk toward Scully.

Rupert was quiet for a moment as he too watched Melinda.

Melinda stepped toward Scully and began to unbutton the blouse Scully was wearing. Scully began to struggle beneath the woman's hands. Melinda pulled away and calmly checked the restraints to be certain they were tight.

"Don't struggle." Melinda urged. "You'll only hurt yourself."

Melinda continued to unbutton the blouse and then pulled the fabric away from Scully's body exposing her stomach and chest to the cold basement air. Melinda took a scissors from the stand next to the exam table and began cutting the material of the blouse's sleeve. First one and then the other, until she was able to pull the ruined garment away from her completely, leaving only her white cotton bra as covering. Moving to the end of the table, Melinda removed her shoes.

Scully was beginning to panic. She watched the woman strip her of her clothing and was relieved when Melinda stopped with her shoes. The exam table was now extremely cold against her back and she couldn't help but wonder what was in store for her as Melinda began to hook her up to the various machines that were next to the bed.

"My method, Agent Mulder, is very simple. If you want something from someone who doesn't want to give it to you, physically harming them will not get you what you want."

"What will get you what you want?" Mulder asked keeping a close eye on what Melinda was doing to Scully.

"Not to physically harm the person you want the information from -- but to physically harm someone that person cares about."

Scully looked up from where she was watching Melinda attach the different leads from the machines to her body.

"Psychological torture?" She questioned.

"My hypothesis is simply that psychological torture, as you put it so nicely, is more effective at breaking an individual than physical torture. I begin with you Dr. Scully -- I use electric shock, in progressive amounts, to get a heart rate, blood pressure and skin response reading to develop a baseline for your endurance level. Meanwhile, Agent Mulder's reactions to your physical discomfort are also recorded. Once you, Dana, inform me that you've had enough and you beg me to stop, then you switch places and the experiment begins again. My results so far indicate that the person forced to watch will experience much more distress than the person being given the electrical stimulation."

Scully couldn't think; couldn't react. Her attention fell back to Melinda, who had just finished attaching her to all the monitors. All the leads made sense now, including the two electrodes she had placed on her back, right below her shoulder blades. She watched Melinda walk to Mulder and begin to unbutton his shirt.

Mulder's mind was too fixated on the fact that he was going to have to watch this bastard hurt Scully to think clearly. Melinda was suddenly in front of him, unbuttoning his shirt. She pulled the material away from him and began attaching the correct monitors to his temples and chest.

Mulder's eyes grabbed onto Scully's and held them. A silent promise passed between them. He gave her the strength to face what was ahead and in turn she gave him the strength to think clearly.

"Your entire theory is based on psychological and emotional attachment. The basis for your method is two people who deeply care for one another," Mulder began, cautiously formulating his plan as he went. "The other eight couples that disappeared were couples -- man and wife -- they were married. They were in love."

"Agent Mulder and I aren't emotionally attached," continued Scully, sure she knew where Mulder's line of thinking was going. "We work as partners for the FBI. You read our files. We work together. We aren't in love."

"If you use us in this experiment, you're only going to skew your data. It won't be accurate. We only work together." Mulder insisted.

Ethan smiled and walked to the television set at the side wall. Pushing it forward, he positioned it next to the two agents, giving them both a perfect view of the screen.

"I thought that also. I was highly disappointed when I found your badges and your guns. I did read your file and I must admit I was about to let you go -- then I re-watched the scene that had me so excited about the two of you in the first place."

"What are you talking about?" Scully looked at Mulder, whose eyes seemed to be a mirror of her own.

Ethan turned on the television and pressed the play button on the VCR. Soon the white static on the screen was replaced by a clear picture of the room they had been in when they had first arrived at the house.

Scully was ready to dismiss the video as more delusions of a madman when she saw the camera zoom in on two figures on the couch. The figures were her and Mulder. She realized that there must have been a hidden video camera in the dark room.

She was sleeping in the position she remembered, her head pillowed in Mulder's lap. Then, as she watched the video, she saw herself begin to toss on the sofa. Then she turned over. Mulder was trying to keep her comfortable and from falling off the couch when suddenly she turned and would have fallen if it hadn't been for Mulder's strong arms.

She was sitting in his lap, sound asleep, snuggling against him while he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head and her forehead. She watched the strangers on the screen. She watched the woman sleep in his arms. She watched the man whisper softly to her and brush his lips against the woman's skin. She was mesmerized by what she saw and how it was making her feel. This couple wasn't them. It couldn't be. Yet it was. She glanced away from the screen for a moment, to Mulder.

So much time. So much wasted time. Wanting. Yearning. Wondering. Dreaming. To always be ripped apart from one another only to find each other again and still deny, deny each other the simple pleasure of being together. Together like she had just seen on the video tape.

They had been so close in that hallway. So close to realizing what it would be like to be together. Mulder had told her what was in his heart. He had broken through her last remaining wall of defense by telling her how he felt. For so long she had believed that it was only her that needed him. She existed in his world and was a hindrance to his search more than a partner. She was the one who needed him, needed his drive, his support, his passion. But in the hallway he had told her that he needed her. She knew the instant he made the decision to kiss her. His eyes darkened and she saw when the internal struggle gave way to instinct. She had wanted him to kiss her. She had wanted to kiss him. But then the world fell out from under her, out from under both of them.

She almost wished she'd never seen the tape. Never seen what might have been. Her, curled up in Mulder's lap. Him kissing her; comforting her; keeping her safe. If she died tonight, on this damn table, she would die knowing what it would look like if they were together. She would die knowing there was so much they could finally say to each other. She would die after being given a glimpse of what it could have been.

He could feel her eyes on him, could sense her confusion. He couldn't meet her eyes this time.


So there. Don't you want to see if they get away before they turn on the electricity? I know you do. But it's being held for ransom. And if they don't... hehehehe. Now I shall frolic off to watch my new DVDs...first season of Bones. Yeah. REVIEW, PEOPLE. OR YOU WILL NEVER FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT (unless you are unlazy enough to look it up and find it. But we all know that us fanfikers are couch-potatos. We're lazy in the real world by nature. We need our stories to get by. I know few of you will google. And if you do...don't ruin the surprise.)