Title: The KidDisclaimer: No way, no how, not even remotely possible. Mulder's not mine, he's CC's and 10-13's. Kevin is a product of my overactive imagination however.
Author's Note: I'm on my knee's here. Please
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THE KID
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"Hey Foxy!"
The lanky kid stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around to face the hulking boy in front of him. "What?" he muttered.
"Heard you were there when your sister disappeared. Saw the whole thing."
Fox closed his eyes and prepared himself for the verbal onslaught he knew was about to begin. He was the outsider at school and he couldn't seem to get in. His parents were not popular among the Martha's Vineyard community and so that translated to him being unpopular at school. Being a thirteen year old in ninth grade didn't do anything to remedy the situation. He was too young, too smart, too skinny, too tall, and too quiet.
The day he started school he was secluded from conversations, treated like a leper. He could handle that. What they thought was of no consequence to him, he would rather immerse himself in his studies than worry about other people's opinion of him.
The other teens called him a freak of nature. They threw things at him during lunch, and shoved him aside in the hallways. They made fun of his name and questioned his parentage.
But no one ever mentioned Samantha.
Sure, they whispered about the incident at the Mulder residence last year and wondered what really happened. But only in the secrecy of their own homes.
No one ever mentioned Samantha in front of Fox.
That is, until he met the Kid. Kid's real name was Kevin, but no one called him that. He was huge, especially by freshman standards. The Kid nickname was somebody's idea of a joke, a joke that stuck.
The Kid constantly pressured Fox to tell everyone what had happened that fateful November night. He concocted his own versions of events that ranged from serial killers to the bogey man. The Kid enjoyed watching the horror on Fox's face when he described all the terrible things that his sister might have gone through. Fox tried to ignore him but every question and snide remark cut deeper and deeper.
And now the Kid was starting again.
"Are you listening to me? I asked if you saw what happened?"
"Leave me alone." Fox turned around and began walking away.
The Kid was shocked only for a moment. No one ignored HIM. He strode forward and grabbed Fox by the shoulder, shoving him around and pushing him up against the lockers.
"You can leave when you answer my question. Got it?" Kid sneered.
"Yes. I was there."
"So, if you were there, wouldn't you remember what happened? Don't you have a photographic memory or some shit like that?"
"I don't know."
The Kid pressed his fist against Fox's chest, pinning him tightly. "You're lying. You know what happened to her but you're trying to hide it. You want to know why I think you know?"
Fox remained silent.
"Because *YOU* killed her." The Kid smiled at the sound of gasps issuing forth from the crowd gathered around.
Fox's face flushed and his vision clouded over with a red haze. He clenched his fists and he began to tremble with rage.
Heedless of the effect of his words on the younger boy, Kid continued. "Yeah, you killed her with your dad's gun and buried her in the backyard. Then you-"
He didn't even have time to react before a fist connected with his face. He dropped Fox to the ground and put his hand to his face to staunch the flow of blood from his injured nose.
"You little shit!" Kevin the Kid swung a thick arm at his opponent. Fox easily dodged the clumsy attack and came back with a punch in the gut.
Now, the Kid was not used to losing. Things had to be his way or else. He motioned to his two ever-present lackeys, who lunged forward and wrestled Fox to the ground. They came back up seconds later, a skinny arm secured by each boy. Fox struggled against their hold but couldn't break their grip.
Now Kid stepped up and landed repeated blows on Fox's ribs and face. Helpless against the Kid's onslaught, the younger boy just glared defiantly at his attacker. The hail of fists stopped suddenly and the meaty hands released his arms, letting Fox fell back against the lockers with a dull thud.
He blinked his eyes to try and get rid of the blurriness. It hurt to breathe and his side burned. He straightened up and swung blindly, only to be knocked to the ground again.
Fox got back up. He wasn't moving fast enough, wasn't hitting hard enough. He kept punching, punching, punching. The Kid took a half step backward. A left hand swung in on Fox from nowhere.
Fox was down again. The ground seemed a lot closer than it had before. He wanted to groan when he pushed himself up this time, but he kept silent. Better not to let them know what he was feeling, or if he felt anything at all.
The Kid's fist rammed squarely into Fox's jaw. Fox wasn't even ready yet. His legs twisted under him as he went down once more. Now he saw tiny points of light when he opened his eyes.
Somehow he was back on his feet. His pants were torn, his nose was bleeding, his ribs screaming in pain, and he swayed when he stood. He made a noise every time he swung his fist. He couldn't help it from coming out anymore. All the pain and guilt he kept bottled up inside flowed forth, all the stuff he couldn't let out at his father came right out. He gave a primal cry of rage and threw himself at the Kid.
Taken completely by surprise, Kid fell backwards and landed heavily on the ground. He put his hands up to shield himself from the wildcat on top of him.
"Hey!" the Kid yelled, opening his hands to flat palms. "Hey!" He tossed his head from side to side, unable to dodge the tight fists of Fox Mulder.
Then something unimaginable happened.
Kevin the Kid began to cry.
Kid's two sidekicks dragged Fox off their prostrate friend and held him back as Kid sat up. He sniffled and wiped the tears from his eyes. Without a word, he stood up unsteadily and walked slowly away. His henchmen looked at each other for a second and let go of their captive, trailing after their defeated leader.
Fox stood frozen for a moment, breathing heavily. The surrounding crowd stared in awe at the bloodied boy who had just beat up the school bully. Fox bent down painfully and picked up his discarded books, then struggled upright, heading for home. He didn't look back.
The next day they still whispered behind his back, they still avoided him, and they still called him a freak. But now 'freak' had become a term of respect instead of derision.
Fox didn't mind being the outcast and he never would. Anytime he was called a wierdo, crazy, spooky, whatever, he took it as a compliment.
And they still talked about Samantha's disappearance in their homes, but no one ever mentioned her in front of Fox.
Ever.
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END