Office of Dr. Keith Morrison
Tuesday
28th Dec 9.30AM
The waiting room was just big enough for three small chairs. There was no door, just a small archway that led from the front door into the seating area and through to a corridor with three other closed doors.
Less of a room Mulder thought, more of a hallway.
The walls were painted a mint green but it was chipping at the corners and needed to be freshened up. The office was situated in a very old building on the southeast side of the city. Scully was surprised at his choice of doctors, knowing he could afford one of the better clinics in the city, but didn't second-guess his decision.
Mulder sat slumped in a small uncomfortable chair with a wooden back and arms. It stuck uncomfortably into his hips making him shift his weight constantly. Next to him, Scully watched his fidgeting and stilled him with a hand on his.
She was surprised to find his hand cold and clammy and then noticed the sheen of sweat that lined his brow. His eyes were blinking rapidly and focused on nothing but the bare walls around them.
"Mulder," she whispered. He looked at her, surprise on his face as if he hadn't realized she was there, even though she'd driven them to the office. "Take a deep breath."
Her hand tightened on his and she took a breath with him, helping him to relax but as one of the doors beside them opened she felt his pulse quicken, his eyes darting towards the exit as he mentally screamed to be freed.
"Fox Mulder?" From the office a tall slender man stepped out. He was wearing a pale blue shirt, with no tie, tucked into a pair of cream khakis. His hair was brown, neatly trimmed and his smile surrounded in a light goatee.
"Yes." Mulder rose slowly, releasing Scully's hand and stepping forward.
"I'm Dr. Keith Morrison." He stepped forward and shook Mulder's hand before glancing over at Scully. "And you?"
"I'm with him. Is it okay if I wait here?"
"Of course." He smiled. "The kitchen is through there if you want to get some coffee."
Scully smiled in appreciation but she was looking at Mulder, waiting for him to glance back, waiting for him to look at her for reassurance but he never did. Just walked past the doctor and entered the office without a second glance.
The office was small and spartanly decorated. Barely enough room for the furniture it held. The seating surrounded a large ornate fireplace that looked like it hadn't been used for years. Over the fireplace was a large painting of a generic farmyard scene but Mulder guessed there was something about it, some ulterior reason for it to be in this room. Directly opposite the door was a window but Mulder couldn't see what kind of view it had.
The seat that he guessed was for Dr Morrison was soft and comfy with a high back and pillowed arms. Mulder took a seat on the end of the couch nearest the door and sat back deeply into it. He planted his feet onto the ground and his hands in his lap, willing his heartbeat to calm down. Dr Morrison came in quietly behind him, closing the door softly.
"Can I get you a drink or anything before we start?"
"No thank you. Dr Morrison." Mulder looked over towards him and picked a spot just behind his head.
"Please, call me Keith."
They sat in silence for a moment and all Mulder could hear was the tremendous pumping of his heart. It thudded loudly in his chest, banging against his ribs, hard and fast. He felt almost sick with panic.
"Before we start I'd just like to get a few details from you if that's okay?" Morrison pulled a small black notebook from the side of his chair. It looked battered and worn and had more than a few pieces of tape holding it together.
"Sure."
"Your name is Fox Mulder?"
"Yes."
"And your date of birth?"
"October 13th. 1961."
"That's fine. And family?"
"No." Mulder said quietly, looking down at his lap.
"Sorry?" Dr Morrison looked up with a small frown, his pen hovering over the page he was writing on.
"I don't have any family. My parents are both died."
"No siblings?"
"…I had a sister but she…not any more."
Sensing a deeper hole than Mulder was prepared to lead him into; he backed away and slipped his notebook back between the cushions. "You called me from Seattle?" Keith started sensing Mulder reluctance.
"Yes," Mulder said succinctly.
"And you recently moved back to DC?"
"Yes."
"Do you want to start by telling me why you are here?" Keith crossed his legs and folded his hands onto his lap.
"To talk." Mulder's eyes moved to the fireplace where he studied the grating. When the doctor didn't say anything else he looked over to him. "But then I guess you knew that."
"What is it you want to talk about?"
"Well to be brutally honest I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to pull it all up and I certainly don't want to analyze it."
"So why are you here?"
"For her." He tossed his head over his shoulder towards the door.
"You won't accomplish anything in here with me unless you do it for yourself."
"Accomplish? What do you think I should accomplish?" Mulder asked bitterly.
"What do you want to accomplish?"
"I want…I want to be free." Mulder looked over to Keith and wondered if his story would horrify him. Would it be old tales to him? Would he have heard it all before? His mind flashed back to his nightmares and for a minute he was back there. Back in the cell with the stinking damp smell of rancidity. Foreign hands touching him, cold water covering him and hot shame devouring him.
With a start he was back in the calm quiet of the room and he knew it was a nightmare, a waking terror flashback, but the taste of bile that threatened to explode into his mouth was real. He swallowed hard; forcing it to go back down. Sensing his struggle, Keith stood up and walked over to a small table under the window where he poured Mulder a glass of water.
"Take this." He handed Mulder the glass and reclaimed his seat, his eyes never wavering from his patient. "Where were you just now?"
Mulder didn't answer. His eyes froze, staring at the fireplace, unfocused and glazed over. Keith watched him for a moment. Waited for him to reply, all the while Mulder's mind screamed out. Screamed for him to speak and let the pressure out but his lips wouldn't comply.
I was there, I was there, I was there, I was there, he said over and over in his mind. Willing his lips to play their part but they steadfastly refused. Nothing he tried could make his voice work, no words, and no variations on the same sentence. Inside he was screaming for the release he knew he needed but it was no use.
"Fox?" The sound of Keith's voice cut though his mental tirade like a hot blade, but still his own voice remained mute.
Mulder shot a quick glance at the doctor but his eyes strayed away from the soft frown. The pity he was seeing everywhere stung his pride and blinded him. He couldn't answer. Couldn't speak or think or move. Like the grip of sleep paralysis he found his body rigid and unresponsive. His eyes closed over for a second as he took a deep breath and tried to regain control but nothing worked.
"Maybe that's enough for today."
Slowly as Mulder's body started to relax he blinked the haze away and turned to face Keith fully for the first time. Unsure of how much time had passed while he was entranced, Mulder glanced at his watch and noted with shock he had been there for just under an hour.
Wasted. Waster. Useless, were the words that sprung into his mind but he pushed the thoughts back, ignoring them as he stood up to leave. His legs ached from their lack of movement, weakened now as they had been tensed for so long.
"I'll see you on Friday?" Keith said with a warm smile.
"….Yes."
Mulder made no eye contact as he left the room and offered Scully only a passing glance as he hurried by her, through the front door, out into the cold winter air. Scully hurried behind him silently, clicking the remote unlock on the car keys before Mulder reached the door. He yanked it open and stepped in, already buckled up and staring out the window before she climbed in next to him.
Without a word she started the engine and pulled out into traffic. He remained silent as they drove through the half deserted streets until finally she could take it no more.
"How did it go?" she asked tentatively.
"Oh it went marvelously," he bit back angrily. She wasn't sure if he was angry with her or himself but she guessed the latter. Deciding to offer him the silence he sought, she concentrated on driving through the snow-covered road.
When they arrived at her place he seemed content to just sit in the car. After climbing out and slowly making her way round to his door, she paused and rapped on the window.
"Mulder?" she called softly. "You coming in?"
"No." Reluctantly he unbuckled his belt and climbed out to stand on the sidewalk beside her, but instead of looking at her he buttoned up his coat, fixed his collar, fidgeted with his sleeves, anything but look at her. "I think I'll take a walk."
"Want some company?"
"No. No thanks. I'd rather be alone."
"Okay." She stepped back toward the apartment. "You have a key right?"
"Yes."
"I'll see you later then."
But he was already gone, already braving the crosswinds and falling snow as he walked with determination away from her. Scully tried not to take it to heart but he needed the time alone. The time to come down from the emotional high she knew he was experiencing.
Scully walked into the cold empty apartment and busied herself lighting a fire. She hung her coat up to dry on the rack and shook the errant flakes out of her hair. When the phone rang she all but pounced on it.
"Hello?"
"Dana." It was David, she realized with a pang of disappointment.
"Hi David."
"How are you? Everything ok?" He had sensed her saddened tone and it didn't take an FBI Agent to figure out why.
"Yeah. Just tired. When do you get back from Boston?"
"On Thursday. Bright and early."
"Do you want me to meet you at the airport?"
"Well that was one of the reasons I was calling. Would it be too much trouble?"
"Not at all. What time do you land?" She grabbed the notebook from beside the phone and prepared to take down the details.
"Landing at 11.20. Flight AA143."
"No problem." She wrote it down clearly and replaced it on the desk.
"So how did everything go?"
"Sorry?" she tried to feign confusion but knew he would see right through it. He always did.
"With…Frank…Fox Mulder?"
"Everything is fine," she lied. "How's Janice?"
"She's great. Looking forward to getting back to DC though."
"I see." She wasn't even listening. With one eye on the door and her mind racing, imagining what Mulder was doing, how he was feeling; she was too distracted for the banality of small talk.
"I'll let you go Dana. You seem tired."
"I'm fine David. So I'll see tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Let me know if there is any trouble picking me up and I'll sort something out."
"It's no trouble David. Looking forward to seeing you."
She hung up and stood there for a moment. Unsure of what to do or what to think, she forced herself to relax. Sliding onto the couch she pushed away the blankets Mulder had been sleeping in to the other end and tucked her feet beneath her. Picking up a book from the coffee table she idly flicked through it, seeing nothing, reading nothing.