Subject: xfc Light Into Darkness (PG) 1/4 by Kestabrook
Date: 2 Jun 1999 06:06:05 -0700
From: KEstabrook@aol.com
Organization: None
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
From: KEstabrook@aol.com
TITLE: Light Into Darkness
AUTHOR: Kestabrook
E-MAIL: Kestabrook@aol.com
DISTRIBUTION: Archive if you’d like. Please let me know where, and
do use my name.
SPOILERS: Basic knowledge of the series
RATING: PG (for mildly disturbing imagery)
KEYWORDS: Pre X-F; M/A
CLASSIFICATION: V
SUMMARY: Young Fox Mulder suffers the horror of Samantha’s
disappearance and the instant devastation to his life.
DISCLAIMER: These characters are not mine. They, of course, belong to
Chris Carter and the whole X-Files gang.
COMMENTS: For Lisa (L.A.Adolf) whose genius insights into these
characters and discussions about them inspired this story. Her long-lasting
friendship means the world to me.
FEEDBACK: If positive or helpful only, please.
Light Into Darkness (1/4)
by Kestabrook
Fox Mulder lay on the couch, staring up at the bright white ceiling paper.
He remembered the day the workmen had put that paper up there. His
father had usually hired people to do what the family could have done, so
the workers had arrived. The hot summer day had burned in bright
sunshine, and the cool breezes had sifted through the living room’s
window screens. Sweat had soaked through the men’s white T-shirts and
had cast an odor which finally drove Samantha and him from the room,
snickering. And once they’d gotten to the treehouse, they’d laughed
aloud, making stupid parodies of deodorant commercials the workmen
had obviously ignored.
But summer had passed, and on this night in Massachusetts in late
November, it was anything but warm. And his body shook with chills.
"Do you want a blanket, Fox?"
He blinked up at his father whose eyes, unlike his mother’s, were dry and
hard. The man’s lips formed a grim line, and his hands were clenched
tightly. He must have come from the kitchen where the voices murmured,
sent to check on his twelve-year-old son, perhaps at his wife’s urging. But
no real interest seemed to show in his face. Not now. The once warm
smile had disappeared, and Fox had a feeling it would never return.
The boy shook his head in answer to his father’s question, but he said,
"Dad? I’m sorry. I don’t know--"
"I don’t want to hear it," Bill Mulder spat. "Take this like a man. We all
feel grief tonight. Your mother doesn’t need to feel yours, too. Learn to
keep your emotions to yourself, boy."
The son stared into his father’s eyes, waiting, hoping they might soften.
But they didn’t. He turned to stare at the back of the couch as if he’d
never seen it. He sensed his father watching him, knew the man wanted to
say more--but he’d said enough earlier, stopped only by the shrieking
reprimands of his wife.
Yes, those words had sufficed. Each had cut into the boy’s heart, into the
boy’s soul like a whip slashing through butter. And they wouldn’t--
couldn’t--be forgotten. "Where were you?! How could you let this
happen?!" and "This was your sister, Fox! Didn’t you even try to save
her?!" and "Look what this has done to your mother!" It was then that
Tina Mulder had screamed her intervention, effectively stopping her
husband’s tirade.
And then Bill had called the police. Two officers had arrived in a fair
amount of time, but Fox had barely noticed. Through her streaming tears,
his mother had told him to go to bed. Bed, however, was upstairs in the
cold and in the dark--neither of which would have bothered him usually.
But this time he’d be alone. Alone and wondering. Alone and scared.
Alone and grieving. Alone. Perhaps alone forever. No little voice would
come to him through the darkness, asking him to get her a drink of water.
No little voice would break the darkness to tell him one more time how
cute she thought David Cassidy was. No little voice would shatter the
darkness to thank him for something he’d done for her that day--
something he would have already forgotten by nighttime. No more little
voice. Only darkness. Alone, and forever in darkness.
"No, Mom," he’d said to her. "I don’t want to go to bed." He’d lain on the
couch instead, head propped on the pillow, arms folded across his chest. His
mother, too broken to protest, had slipped into the kitchen to be with the
other adults.
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End "Light Into Darkness" (1/4)
Subject: xfc Light Into Darkness (PG) 2/4 by Kestabrook
Date: 2 Jun 1999 06:06:41 -0700
From: KEstabrook@aol.com
Organization: None
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
From: KEstabrook@aol.com
Light Into Darkness (2/4)
by Kestabrook
He found it difficult to remember exactly what had happened. A normal
night babysitting his sister. He’d found the Watergate hearings fascinating.
He’d even enjoyed the banter between Howard Baker and Sam Ervin. But
"The Magician" was what he’d been looking forward to--his favorite
show on all of TV. And Samantha had wanted to play something--they’d
agreed on Stratego. They’d argued some--what else was new? Brothers
and sisters fought; it was a fact of life. And then--what? Light. And such
a light. Bright. White. Blinding. And then noise. And shaking.
Afterward, Samantha had been--gone. Fox had found himself on the floor
of the living room, confused, dazed. He’d sat there, trying to grab one
thread of explanation for what had happened. And his nerves had erupted,
shaking his body, chilling him. "The Magician" appeared on TV, but he’d
only glimpsed it before shutting it from his mind. He’d risen, then begun a
frantic search of the house, his quaking knees threatening to drop him as
the search grew more and more futile. He had no idea when he’d started
screaming her name, his voice louder than he’d ever heard it. Tears had
run down his face and dripped from his jaw onto his shirt, soaking through
to his skin, but he hadn’t cared, hadn’t noticed. He’d felt so cold, so
frightened, so empty. Some cruel magician’s trick had stolen his sister
away from him.
With a flashlight he’d searched the back yard, the garage, their treehouse.
Then a noise from inside his home had filled him with hope and started
him running back through the kitchen and into the living room. And he’d
stopped short, finding himself face to face with his parents. What could he
say? How could he tell them?
Instantly, his mother’s face had paled. "Fox? Fox, what’s wrong? We
heard you from the Galbraiths’. Honey, all the lights in the house are on."
She’d come to him then, knelt down, eyes full of concern and dread. Her
hands had gripped his shoulders, sliding down to examine his arms and
hands. She’d glanced up quickly to her husband, her lips parting as if
about to protest, and a sob caught in her throat. "He’s so cold. He’s
shaking!" And turning back to her son, she’d asked, "Whatever is
wrong?"
He’d gulped, finding it difficult to meet her gaze, to breathe. "Samantha.
She’s gone."
After that--was a blur. Except for his father’s harsh words. And those
were as menacing as the man’s face and eyes which suddenly seemed to
behold his son as an enemy, an anathema to be shunned until the end of
time.
"Your shoes, Fox." Bill Mulder’s voice cut through the boy’s memories,
returning the young green eyes back to the adult’s hard stare. The man’s
face remained unforgiving. "Your shoes. Do you think your mother would
want them on the couch?"
Fox sat up, quickly untying his sneakers, sliding them from his feet, and
dropping them to the floor almost soundlessly. Then he returned to the
refuge of the couch and watched his father’s back as it again retreated to
the kitchen.
Could this really be his father? The same man who’d built the treehouse
and strung the rope swing? The same man who’d taken them camping?
The same man who’d taught Fox survival skills in the woods? The same
man with whom he’d shared the title of "Indian Guide" at summer camp?
Couldn’t be. Fox Mulder’s father had been consumed by this
unsympathetic man, the man who’d made the boy feel the guilt of
Samantha’s disappearance.
And maybe he *was* guilty. If not, why was Samantha gone?
"We’d like to talk to you for a few minutes, son." The voice belonged to
the middle-aged, balding officer whose gut threatened the buttons of his
uniform shirt beneath the leather jacket. He sat in the chair across from
Fox.
The younger, blond officer took another chair. His face seemed pinched,
scrawny, doubting. His adam’s apple protruded like a fist inside a nylon
stocking.
Fox and Samantha would have joked about these two, each mimicking
one of the cops, Laurel and Hardy style, until brother and sister would
have fallen down, laughing.
"Sit up, boy," Bill Mulder ordered from the doorway. "Where are your
manners?"
Fox dutifully did as he was told. He kept his hands clasped in his lap, and
he looked down at them, amazed at how white his knuckles suddenly
were.
******************************
End "Light Into Darkness" (2/4)
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Subject: xfc Light Into Darkness (PG) 3/4 by Kestabrook
Date: 2 Jun 1999 06:07:01 -0700
From: KEstabrook@aol.com
Organization: None
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
From: KEstabrook@aol.com
Light Into Darkness (3/4)
by Kestabrook
"I see no reason for this."
He glanced up to find his mother shoving past his father, but stopping
short of the couch. She still cried, and her face looked longer, exhausted.
"We’ve told you what he told us," she croaked.
"Yes, ma’am," the balding cop said. But he turned to the boy. "I’m
Officer Duggan, young man. And this is Officer Chandler. I understand
your sister is missing."
Fox slowly nodded. A huge lump had formed in his throat. He hoped he
wouldn’t have to talk; no way could he get air past that lump.
"Do you like your sister, Fox?"
Again he nodded. Of course he liked Samantha. She was family. She was
a friend. Sometimes she really bugged him, but he still liked her.
"Did you love your sister?"
He nodded. His eyes seemed glued to the floor. The Stratego board
remained there, but the game pieces had all fallen over.
"Do you have a girlfriend, Fox?" Chandler asked. His voice carried a hint
of sarcasm.
The young boy shook his head, his nose wrinkling slightly.
"Do you wish you had one?"
Fox shrugged. Someday probably, yeah. Would he ever reach "someday"?
He didn’t really want to if Samantha didn’t come back.
"Listen, Fox," Duggan said, "we’re kind of wondering if maybe you liked
your little sister a little too much--"
"That’s enough!" Tina Mulder’s voice was firm. "My son would not do
what you’re implying!"
Officer Chandler laughed mirthlessly as he took a photograph from his
notebook. "Mrs. Mulder, I hate to tell you this, but I’m afraid my
partner’s implication could be entirely possible. Your daughter was a very
beautiful little girl. Your son’s on the verge of puberty. You left him
alone
to babysit her. Maybe he got a little carried away. It happens."
"No!" Tina exclaimed. "No, he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t!"
Bill Mulder moved to his wife, his arm draping hesitantly around her
shoulders. "No, Officer Chandler. She’s right. Now go on with your
questions--but leave that idea out."
Fox stared at the adults, not really comprehending all of what they
accused him. But he could never have hurt Samantha. Never. He saw
Chandler shaking his head, his smirk shouting how mistaken he considered
these parents to be.
Duggan shrugged. "Fox," the fat cop finally said, unable to hide a smile
that revealed he considered the boy less than believable, "your parents told
us that tonight you saw a really bright light and felt the room shaking.
Wanna tell us anything about that? Wanna tell us what happened after you
saw this light, heard that noise?"
The young boy looked at the man, saw him grow more suspicious when
no answer came. Again he stared down at his clasped hands. Tears began
to roll from his eyes and drop onto his arms.
"Come on, boy," Chandler sneered, "surely you can make something up.
How’d your daddy’s gun get down there? Wanna tell us that?"
Fox’s glance shot to the floor, and his mouth dropped open in horror
when, indeed, he saw the carpet littered with various things, the handgun
being the most prominent. He looked up at his parents, wishing they could
tell him why the gun was out of its special place.
"Somebody kidnap your tongue, too, kid?" Chandler smirked. "Can you
tell us who took your sister? What he looked like? Was there just one
guy? Did you see what kind of vehicle he had?" Chandler leaned forward,
waiting. His smirk turned into a mocking smile. When no response came,
he turned to his partner. "I think we ought to take him in. Maybe a few
hours in interrogation would get a confession out of him."
"No!" Tina again protested.
"Ma’am, it might be more of a help to us--" Duggan began.
"No! My son is not to blame!" Tina replied through sobs. She shifted from
her husband, making his arm fall clumsily to his side. Her face was fierce
as she glared at him. "For God’s sake, Bill, how much longer are you
going to allow this to go on?! Tell them ‘no.’ And you tell them now!"
Bill Mulder stepped into the middle of the room. With his right hand, he
gestured for the officers to leave. "My wife’s right. Fox didn’t do anything
to Samantha. It’s not in his nature. I’d appreciate it if you’d go now.
Maybe set up some roadblocks. The real kidnapper has to be found."
Both officers reluctantly got to their feet. "I’d check my back yard for a
fresh grave tomorrow, Mister Mulder. If I was you." Chandler stared
down at Fox as if the boy was repulsive. "We’ll set up roadblocks all
right, but it’ll be a waste of time when the truth’s right here in this
room.
Boy won’t defend himself, won’t answer our questions. Looks pretty
guilty to me."
"He might not have done anything *to* your daughter, sir," Duggan
chimed in, "but he sure didn’t do much *for* her either. Not if he gave her
up without a fight."
"Officers, please. You’re upsetting my wife." Bill urged them toward the
front door. Slowly, both stood, and then headed outside, the younger
officer strutting after his partner, giving Bill Mulder a sarcastic shake of
his head. After they were gone, the elder Mulder softly closed the door,
his eyes closed as he continued to face it. And then, finally, he turned
back
to his remaining family.
******************************
End "Light Into Darkness" (3/4)
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Subject: xfc Light Into Darkness (PG) 4/4 by Kestabrook
Date: 2 Jun 1999 06:06:23 -0700
From: KEstabrook@aol.com
Organization: None
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
From: KEstabrook@aol.com
Light Into Darkness (4/4)
by Kestabrook
Fox stared at his father, imploring him to help, to comfort, to make the
nightmare end. His gaze was returned, but the other’s eyes seemed
different--darker, narrower, callous. Another chill clutched the boy, and he
turned away.
"I’m going to bed," Bill Mulder announced, his voice quiet, hardened. He
started up the stairs. "Are you coming, Tina?" Without waiting for an
answer, he continued, and his footsteps could be heard, trudging above
them in his bedroom.
Fox gazed at the empty stairway. His father hadn’t hugged him as he so
often did--hadn’t even said a word to him. Had he let his father down so
badly? He turned to his mother. "Mom? They’ll find her, won’t they?"
How hoarse, how tiny his voice sounded in the near emptiness.
Tina switched off one of the room’s lamps. "Come, Fox. Time for bed."
He reeled. No! Samantha’s bed was in that bedroom, too. It would be
empty. Maybe forever. And he couldn’t face seeing it. "I want to sleep
here," he informed his mother adamantly.
Tina pivoted, her eyes still spilling teardrops, and she nodded absently at
him. Her voice broke as she murmured, "You’ll need a blanket."
He watched her move quickly toward the stairs, her hands covering her
mouth as she climbed. She never turned back to say "good night" as she
usually did at the door to his and Samantha’s room. She never turned back
to say "I love you" as she had every night since he could remember. She
never turned back to kiss his forehead and say "You’re my favorite son"
as she so often did. She never turned back. And she didn’t bring him a
blanket. He heard his parents’ bedroom door close. He wondered how
they could sleep. Would it ever be possible again?
Twelve-year-old Fox Mulder lay his head back on the couch’s pillow, and
he folded his cold, shaking arms across his chest. He could hear his
parents’ voices. They seemed to be angry, to be arguing. And they seemed
so distant.
His gaze wandered the room which was still lit as most of the downstairs
was, and it rested on a framed photo of his sister. So pretty. So fun. And
now out there somewhere in the cold. She didn’t have a blanket either. He
wondered where she was. What was happening to her. Fear and loneliness
consumed him. And he decided he’d wait for her--right here on this
couch--every night until she returned.
His parents’ voices grew louder, but he couldn’t make out what they were
saying. He didn’t care to. Probably truth about him, about how he’d failed
his sister, about how he’d failed them. All he knew for certain was that
Samantha had disappeared while he’d supposedly been taking care of her,
while he’d been responsible for her. His body quivered, and his tears
streamed from between eyelids squeezed closed while his mouth opened
wide in a silent scream.
Fox Mulder lay on the couch, staring up at the bright white ceiling paper.
But all he saw was another bright white light--a light which had stolen his
sister, which had isolated him from his parents, which had plunged him
into a darkness from which he would not escape.
**********************************************
End "Light into Darkness" (4/4)
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