From: fox42@ix.netcom.com (GHill52695) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: NEW: Martin's Head (1/1) Date: 5 May 1996 19:29:16 -0400 My first fanfic posting (hope it works)!fox42@ix.netcom.com Gerry Hill 5/5/96 Disclaimer: This story is based on the characters and situations created by Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, and the Fox Network. As such, the characters named are the property of those entities and are used without permission, although no copyright infringements are intended. The following work is for the distribution and entertainment of newsgroup members only. Any further distribution of this work without the author's consent is in violation of federal law. R rated because of certain scenes in this story. ------------------------------------------------------------------ MARTIN'S BRAIN (Written PRIOR to "Pusher", Honest!!) CHAPTER 1 2:25 AM February 4, 1996 Apartment #42 FBI Special Agent Fox Mulder has once again fallen asleep on his sofa while reading through background data on an X File. He is very soundly asleep after being active and awake for more than 36 hours. Several miles away, Martin Hapscomb is settling down in a recliner, getting comfortable. He is a fairly attractive man in his thirties, and somewhat resembles Agent Mulder in his coloring and height. He smiles as he strokes "Skipper," his elderly tabby cat, and he slips even more into a relaxed state. His mind begins reaching out, out toward the sleeping brain of Fox Mulder. He enters it and glides through thoughts, dreams, memories. He calls to Mulder and starts to pull the sleeping agent's soul/spirit up and out of the body. A bright mass forms in the air above Mulder's body and slowly floats out into the night air through his apartment wall. Martin sighs as he directs the Mulder-mass out over the city, then down into a moonlit bedroom. There, he allows it to re-form into Mulder's figure. Something is bothering Scully as she tosses and turns in bed, shoving the sheet off, pulling it back up, then shoving it off again. She gradually becomes aware that someone is standing by her bed. She gives a sharp gasp and scoots back against her pillow in alarm. Almost immediately she recognizes Mulder and gives a shaky laugh. "You scared me to death, Mulder. What on earth are you doing here at this hour? Not an alien mind-meld case, I hope." She pulls the forgotten sheet back up around her chest as she realizes how exposed she is in her shrunken t-shirt and panties. Then it hits her that Mulder hasn't spoken or moved. "What's wrong, Mulder? You're really beginning to scare me." As she stares at him, he just suddenly isn't there anymore. He literally disappears in front of her wildly staring eyes. "OK, Mulder," she unsteadily asks. "I give up. How did you do that?" She hears only silence. "That does it." She gets out of bed and turns on every light she can find. There is no sign of Mulder, and all the locks on the doors and windows are secure. She grabs the telephone, hits #1 for Mulder's number, and listens to the ringing go on and on. Now she is worried. She remembers how almost a year ago she had could have sworn that she was seeing her father sitting in the chair in her living room, smiling at her; then her mother's call to tell her he had died after a heart attack that evening. "Mulder," she whispers. She pulls on some pants to wear with the t-shirt, slips on shoes and a jacket, grabs her purse with her gun in it and runs out the door. Meanwhile, Martin is madder than hell. He had successfully taken Mulder from his body, placed him, and was ready to proceed, when some loud noise in the street outside had broken his concentration. Two cars had collided right below his window at the corner, and the noise was incredible, with sirens and people yelling. "Let's get a snack", he tells Skipper. They head for the kitchen. 2:35 AM Mulder wakes up with a monster headache. He manages to get several aspirin down, but then is wide awake. "Crap," he states to the world. He is still dressed, so all he needs is a jacket to take a walk and to see if he can get rid of the headache and get back to sleep. When he steps out onto the sidewalk, it is foggy and chilly, so he decides to make it a short walk, just around the block. He sets off, thinking of his partner, Scully, for some reason. Maybe he would call her when he returned....no, it was the middle of the night, for God's sake. She would be sound asleep. As Mulder makes the turn around the corner that would bring him back to his apartment complex, he suddenly feels like his head has been smacked with a brick. He falls against a wall as he puts his hands to his head. He half-consciously wonders if he is having a stroke. The pain is so bad, he can't see. Martin is sweating and exerting his will as hard as he can on Mulder, but finally gives up and heads for bed. He realizes that Mulder is awake and stronger, resisting with all his might against Martin's intrusion. "Time for bed, Skipper," he calls out to his cat as he locks up for the night. 2:55 AM Mulder can hardly make it back to his apartment. By the time he reaches his door, his hand shakes so hard he can't get the key to enter the lock. He drops the keys and feels like weeping, knowing he can never muster the strength to pick them up. His door suddenly is opened and Scully is standing there looking apprehensive. Seeing his condition, she blurts, "My God, Mulder, what on earth happened to you?!" She grabs the keys from the hallway floor, and then helps him get to the sofa where he collapses. His face is ashen and he is shaking all over. Scully looks into his eyes and notes that they are dilated, and his hands are icy. "You need a hospital, Mulder. At the very best, you're having a hell of a migraine." Silently, she added, "or at worst a stroke." He grabs her arm and croaks, "No." He closes his eyes and breathes deeply to try and calm the shaking. Something just wasn't right about all this. He remembers the impression of someone else's thoughts in his head just before the pain hit. The milder headache he had earlier had echoes of someone speaking, pulling at his thoughts....something. He is trying to focus on what Scully is saying, then asks, "What are you doing here at three in the morning?" She looks surprised; she had forgotten the weird event that had brought her to his apartment in the first place. "Well, it was very strange. I woke up to see you standing silently by my bed. Then you....vanished into thin air." She winces at the absurdity of that statement, then added, "I checked the whole place out, but there was no sign of anyone, and everything was locked up tight. It had to have been a very vivid dream." At first she thinks Mulder hasn't been listening, but then he looks up at her with such an intense gaze that she pulls back a few inches. "You're sure it was me standing by your bed?" He bites his lower lip, then says, "There was someone in my head with me, Scully." He smiles/grimaces, and adds, "That sounds like a believable defense for a burglar to use." "Pardon me? Mulder, I think you really need to go to a hospital. You are obviously unwell, and now you're telling me someone was inside your head with you. Listen to how that sounds." He gestures impatiently with his hand and says, "Not any more goofy than what you just said you saw in your bedroom." He gave a groan and lay back on the sofa with his eyes closed. "I'll be all right. Just let me think this through. And I could use some more aspirin." CHAPTER 2 After an essentially sleepless night, Scully is not the most chipper and wide-awake agent in the FBI building the next morning. Finally giving in to Mulder's wish to be left alone, she returns home, showers and dresses, eats some cereal, and gets to work at 6:00 AM. At 6:30 she calls Mulder's home phone but no one answers. Then trying his office downstairs, she get a gruff, "Mulder." "Oh. You are here early. How are you feeling?" "Scully, I've found a lot of material that could have a bearing on what happened to me last night. Got to go pick it up." Scully hears the phone disconnect. She sighs. "Back to normal....or, actually that would be abnormal." She spends the day finalizing several overdue reports and manages to do some checking with a friend of hers in personnel. She learns that someone has been inquiring about Mulder, but there is no record of who that had been, nor had the caller been given any information other than that Mulder is indeed an FBI special agent. She then has to stand in for an absent agent in performing an autopsy around 5:00 PM. By the time she gets home, she is really exhausted. Kicking off her shoes and putting on a sweat shirt and pants, she is rummaging around in the refrigerator for some orange juice when the phone rings. "Hello," she answers, as she is balancing the receiver under her chin while pouring some juice into a glass. "Scully!" Mulder sounds enthusiastic. "I've found all sorts of stuff. If the guy tries something tonight again - it seems he would have the most success when my mind is resting, while asleep - I'll be ready for him. Maybe I can use his own tricks against him to find where and who he is. Otherwise, I can't see how to track him down." Scully thinks about this for a moment. She decides to take the "let's humor him for now" route, and replies, " Do you want me to be there in case you need any help?" "No. I just wanted to let you know what's going on. You've chewed my ass in the past for not keeping you up to date." Scully winces at his snotty tone, and says, "OK, I may deserve that, but we are partners, last time I looked." "Thank goodness for small favors, I always say. Look, Scully, you have to know how much you mean to me. I may not say it often..." Scully thinks, "Often! You mean seldom if ever." Aloud, she just says, "Be careful," and disconnects. She has a plan to get Mulder into the FBI psychiatrist's office, as well as have him undergo a thorough physical examination as soon as possible. She is still very worried about him. Around 10:30 PM, Mulder flops down onto his sofa to watch a tape of "Raising Arizona." He has seen it several times already, and thinks that he can drift off during the tape. However, as the movie progresses, he finds himself thoroughly engrossed in it. 11:21 PM Martin decides to try once again. He has become totally relaxed and sends his thoughts out to Mulder. Mulder suddenly snaps upright with his hands to each side of his head, wincing with the pain. He feels someone there and desperately tries to hold onto the snaky, oily presence that is gliding and slithering through his brain. Martin blinks and shakes his head; something is not quite right. There is more than resistance. Something is pushing back at him. That cannot be. He pulls back for a moment to regroup, and then thrusts forward with all his mind's strength. Mulder screams and falls unconscious to the floor. His nose begins to bleed. Scully is reading in bed when she gets the odd feeling that she is not alone. Looking over at the shadowy right side of the bed toward the closet, she jumps in surprise when she sees a figure standing there. At that point, the figure moves toward her, into the lamplight. "Mulder. It's you again," she says, unsure of what is going on. He says nothing, and moves up next to Scully. His hand reaches out to caress her hair, moves down to her cheek, then travels to her right breast, which is covered with a loose, oversized t-shirt. "Mulder!" Scully backs up to the other side of the bed in confusion, realizing that this is not the normal Mulder and that something is terribly wrong with him. She is not certain she would have objected to his caress under other circumstances, but not here and now. Mulder seems not to hear her. His gaze is fixed and creepy, and he gets slowly up onto the vacated side of the bed from Scully. She realizes with a shiver that he is bare-chested and wearing sweat pants and apparently nothing else. Suddenly, with a swiftness she finds hard to believe, Mulder has thrown his weight onto her body, knocking the breath out of her lungs. Pushing up against his chest, she fights for air. Mulder slips his hand under her t-shirt and pulls it up around her neck. Then he rips her panties away with one strong tug. Scully is now essentially naked and in semi-shock. This is Mulder, after all, but not Mulder, either. As he is shifting upward with a hand occupied with her body, she follows through with a sharp knee jab and a stab at his eyes with her fingernails. Nothing she does has any effect whatsoever. "Mulder. Stop. You said you could get into the guy's mind, right? Well, do it now!!" Martin is startled to hear this. He momentarily loses his grip, and Mulder begins to waver and lose substance like those heat mirages you see on a road sometimes. This terrifies Scully more than any sexual threat Mulder is posing. She takes the opportunity to shove away from Mulder and scoot off the side of the bed. She runs into the living room, grabbing her robe on the way. Martin decides to shut things down for the night and ponder what Scully has said. This Mulder may have hidden talents and be more intelligent, thus more dangerous, than anticipated. "How delightful," he murmurs. Scully waits for further developments, but no sound reaches her ears, and there is no sign of the "Mulder thing." CHAPTER 3 Mulder groans and opens his eyes. He is on the floor and feels cold. His head doesn't bear thinking about, he decides, since it hurts so much. "It happened again. Now, let's see what I can remember." He makes no move to get up, but continues to lie on the floor as he tries to reach back into foggy memory for clues to his tormentor. And it abruptly hits him: He remembers the close, disagreeable feeling of the alien brain in contact with his. "Martin...Martin Hapscomb." A vision of a cat comes to mind for some reason; "Skipper." A flood of thoughts assail him unexpectedly, mostly consisting of a raging hate, and the sudden, "Rape her....then kill her." His eyes flew open. "Scully!!" As he remembers tearing her clothes off, he struggles to his feet and stands shakily for a moment. He is trying to remember more, but nothing will come. He absently brushes the back of his hand over the wetness on his face from the nosebleed. He absently looks at his blood-smeared hand, but his mind is on Scully. "I can't have hurt her," he worriedly thinks as he reaches for the telephone. When there is no answer, he tosses the phone onto the table and sits on the sofa with his head in his hands. The headache is so bad that he is unable to orient himself, and he feels nauseated. He is unsure how long he has been sitting there, trying to feel up to moving again, when he hears a key in the lock at the door. Scully walks in as he looks up. "Are you OK?," he manages to ask. "More to the point, how are you doing?" Scully kneels by his side, sees the blood and heads into the kitchen. She returns with some wet paper towels, and kneels again by his side. "Other than my brain being in a vise after being dropped off a twelve story building, you mean?" As she cleans his face with the towels, she can see that he is aware of the near-rape, and is uncomfortable with bringing it up. "Don't blame yourself, Mulder. You're not in control of whatever is happening. I'm fine, other than being scared out of my wits." Mulder looks into her eyes and puts his hand over hers, where it rests on his knee. "I got his name." Scully is surprised. "How...oh, when he was in your mind tonight." She still is thinking that Mulder's own mind is the only brain responsible for the recent events, but holds her opinion to herself. "It's Martin Hapscomb. He lives not far from here in an apartment with a cat named Skipper. He has some sort of job to do with a hotel." He stops abruptly, then looks in surprise at Scully. "It's you he hates. You killed his brother. He's using me to get back at you, Scully." She doesn't know how to respond. This is really sounding weird. Mulder gets up and makes his way into the kitchen. Finding a glass, he gets some water and takes three aspirin. Picking up where he left off, Mulder adds, "The brother shouldn't be hard to figure out, should it? I mean, you have only killed one or two people in your life, right?" Scully says, "No one named Hapscomb, however. And I wish you would put some clothes on, Mulder." "Oh." He looks down at his droopy old sweat pants, and blushes. "That's OK. It's just the association with my earlier encounter with those pants. And it's nice that you can still blush." He indignantly protests, "I'm not blushing!" He reaches the closet without further mishap, but, once there, he can only stand slightly swaying, looking like he is about ready to collapse. Scully quickly runs to his side and puts her arm around his waist. "Mulder!" She knows she won't be able to hold him up if he falls, and is looking around for the safest direction to land. But she sees that won't be necessary, as he straightens and opens his eyes again. He turns as she still has an arm around his waist, and he puts his hands on her shoulder. "Scully....Dana. I've never had anyone who is closer to me than you are, not even my parents. Just this once, I want you to go somewhere, anywhere, without telling me your destination. I have to know that I can't hurt you if this thing with Hapscomb isn't resolved right away." Scully gazes back up into his eyes, dark with concern, and says, "I'm not going anywhere, you should know that by now." She looks away for a second, then her eyes lock onto his and she adds, "And you know how I feel about you." They don't move for almost a minute, each lost in the other's eyes, feeling the magnetism and longing. Scully is the first to pull back, and says, "You really need to get dressed. Then we'll talk about what we are going to do." Mulder responds, "I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to look up Mr. Martin Hapscomb and pay him a little visit before he tries the Yappi stunt on me again." Scully would rather take him to the doctor's office, but, partly because it is the middle of the night, she agrees to go along with him for the time being. Searching in the phone book while Mulder dresses, she finds only one listing for their man: "Hapscomb, M." She comments, "This is almost too easy, Mulder. Only one listing, and his address is within a mile or two of your apartment." He clips his holster and gun to his shoulder harness, slips on his jacket, then grabs his overcoat. "Do I look like I'm about to drop dead from a terminal headache, Scully?" She surveys the GQ-esque figure before her, and shakes her head in wonder. "How you do it, Mulder, I have no clue. You look ready for anything." CHAPTER 4 Driving over to the Hapscomb's, Scully keeps a wary eye on Mulder, but he seems to be almost normal. They find a parking spot a block away from the address, and walk up to the building. The front door is open, so they enter the hall and look for a directory. "Here we are," Mulder says, pointing to his name on a list of apartment numbers. "Third floor, number 2." They both have their guns out by the time they reach apartment #2. Martin has been sleeping, but awakes when he senses the nearness of the mind he has been trying so hard to control. Smiling into the dark room, he begins concentrating his attention on that mind once more. As Scully covers him, Mulder kicks the door open. They move in quickly, but Mulder suddenly turns, takes Scully's gun from her hand, and throws both guns into a corner of the room. "Mulder...," and Scully realizes that Mulder is not Mulder any more. He viciously backhands her across the face, knocking her hard against the wall. He moves toward her, but stops when Martin comes into the room. "So, you're discovering that my control is much stronger the closer you are to me. I don't even need to pull your "essence" from your body to do my work." Scully could only look up at him through a fog. Her arms and legs don't seem to want to work. Martin laughs at her and says, "You'll die at your partner's hands tonight. You murdered my brother in the hotel basement when you were looking for your 'psychic killer.' Remember?" He turns to Mulder and gives him a silent command. Mulder approaches Scully, bends over and picks her up in his arms. He turns and goes out the door, down the hallway, and stops at the window at the dead end of the hall. Without bothering to open the window, he throws her out. Or tries to throw her out. She grabs onto the window frame, cutting her hands on broken glass. Hanging on for dear life, she can see that Mulder has only been told to throw her out. He has turned and is returning to Martin's apartment. She tries to keep as quiet as possible while climbing back into the hall. She is bleeding from various cuts, but mostly from her hands. She picks out some larger glass shards, wipes her hands on her trousers, and reaches into her waistband at the back to pull out a small revolver. Carefully and quietly she makes her way back to Martin's apartment. Martin is expounding on something or another to a subdued Mulder when she puts her ear to the door. She figures she will have only one good chance to take out Martin before he gets Mulder to attack her again. And she just doesn't think she could shoot Mulder in a serious enough place to be sure of stopping him. Since the door lock has already been broken, all she has to do is to give it a hard push. The door bangs against the wall, and she screams, "Get away from him, Mulder. Now!" She sees Mulder turn toward her as Martin tries to take cover through the door to the kitchen. She has never shot at an unarmed man before, but he was just as deadly as if he had a gun in his hand. She fires as she sees Mulder out of the corner of her eye coming up on her right. Mulder hits her like a freight train, and they both go down hard. The gun, loosened by the slippery blood on her hand, goes spinning out of reach. She knows everything depends now on whether she put Martin out of the picture. Mulder groans and rolls off Scully, seemingly in considerable pain. Scully sits up, walks to the kitchen door, and looks inside. Martin had only gotten a foot inside the room before falling dead, with her single bullet making a neat round hole in the middle of his forehead. She sags in regret and relief both, then turns back to Mulder. "I would like to have a talk with you, Mulder. It's about this habit you're getting into of attacking me every once in a while. It's beginning to piss me off." Mulder opened one bloodshot eye, not quite fully conscious yet, but somehow knowing he was in trouble again. THE END