Chapter Text
The door opened with a squeak when the metal scratched over the cold cement floor. Bright light flooded through the frame and onto the figure crouched in a fetal position at the far end of the otherwise windowless basement cell. Footsteps approached, feet covered in heavy army boots. Mulder knew what was coming. The same treatment, he had received countless of times since he got there. When was that again? Days? A week? He couldn’t remember. It wasn’t important anyway. Out of instinct, he covered his chest with his arms and knees to protect himself from those boots that would give him his personal wake-up call.
Yesterday, he begged them to kill him and he had meant it. As part of their daily routine, they had whipped him until he passed out. This time though, when he came to again, instead of returning him to his cell , they beat the back of his legs with a cane until his legs gave up under him. All the while no questions were asked, no information was requested. They worked with clinical precision, emotionally detached and never spoke to him. Mulder had absolutely no idea where he was and who those people were that did this to him.
At some point, when he hung limply in the chains that had held him upright all the time, he quietly asked them to finish the job. When he did, his voice was barely a whisper and hoarse from his screaming but they heard him well enough. Instead of granting his wish, they finally took him off the chains that hung from the ceiling, shackled him again and brought him back to his cell where he had lain until sleep took him in the early hours of a new day. Much to his surprise, the blow never came. The footsteps stopped next to him and male voice spoke to him.
“Wake up please.”
Mulder opened his eyes in confusion and looked at the man looming over him.
“It’s OK, Fox. I’m not going to hurt you”, he said quietly to Mulder who shuffled further into the corner until his back and legs hit the wall and there was nowhere else to move.
“You took your punishment very well yesterday and I understand that it was a lot to take for you - that’s why I decided to give you a break today and let you recover before we begin with our actual work”. Mulder didn’t reply, just lay motionless.
“Let me loosen those chains so you can use a hand to eat – I brought you some soup”, the man said and reached out to take Mulder’s arms.
Mulder flinched and let out a soft whimper when the man touched him.
“It’s OK,” the man soothed again “I just want to free a hand”.
Mulder reluctantly eased his muscles and let the man take his hand then he slowly sat up. The man opened the cuff on Mulders left hand and handed him a bowl. “Drink slowly, it’s still hot”. Mulder took the bowl but put it to the ground immediately.
“Why am I here?” he asked, “What do you want from me?”
“All in due time, Fox”, the man replied. “Please eat your soup. You need to regain some strength”.
“Kill me or let me go”, Mulder demanded which caused the man to chuckle.
“I’m afraid this won’t happen, Fox”.
“My name’s Mulder”, Mulder said and again caused the man to chuckle.
“If you really wanted to die, Fox, why would you even care how I call you?”
“I said kill me OR let me go. If you let me go, I surely do care how you call me.”, Mulder countered.
“And I said it won’t happen. Now eat your soup or I’ll send my boys in to make you eat.”
Mulder weighed his options. No options really. Slowly, he picked up the bowl again and took a tentative sip. The soup was strong and spread pleasant warmth through his body. He was cold and it felt so good. He finished as quickly as the hot liquid would allow without burning his throat.
“There you go. Knew you were hungry. You haven’t eaten in quite a while” the man noted satisfied.
Mulder whispered “Thank you”, but embarrassed for his thankfulness for this small sign of mercy.
“You’re welcome, Fox”, the man said happily, “I’m glad you liked it and your good manner pleases me. See, it’s so much better than cursing and calling names, you know? When you do, we have to punish you, like we did yesterday – you'll certainly understand that. But when you behave yourself, you’ll be rewarded. Consider this room your sanctuary, not a place of hurt. You know that other one well enough. Now, do you also need to relieve yourself?”
There was no toilet in his cell. In fact, there was nothing in his cell at all. Not even a blanket to cover his naked body with.
He muttered “Yes please” (good manners meant no pain) and waited for the man to bring a bucket from the outside.
When he had finished, the man looked at him questioningly.
“All done, or do you need to…?”
“Thank you”, Mulder replied, “I’m good.”
The man took the bucket and put it outside the cell again.
“Well, we’ll give you a couple more hours to sleep, Fox, but then we really need to continue to work again. You understand?”
He gently took Mulder’s hand and cuffed it again. Mulder nodded silently.
At the moment, his life was out of his hands.