Title: So Much More
Author: Arsenic
Rating: Adult (implied m/m relationships, non-graphic violence, references to sexual abuse)
Disclaimers: Skinner and Mulder are the sole property of CC and 1013, Justin and Brian belong to Russell T. Davies and Showtime and possibly Channel 4, but I'm never really sure about the logistics of that....
Thank you: To Rowan, for the lyrics, sorry I lost the email and therefore the title to the song, but they were fantastic. To Aimee, for helping me through the whole writing process.

*

"Skinner."

"Hey Walt."

Skinner didn't need the person on the other end of the line to identify himself. He was good with voices, especially the ones that mattered. "Hey Joe, how're you?"

"In a bit of a tight spot. I need a favor."

"What can I do?" It was not a matter of how big the favor was. Joe had long since built up a debt too large to ever be repaid.

"Three kids have turned up dead of suicides in the last two months. Something or someone is driving 'em over the edge."

Joe taught at a prestigious, all-male boarding school in Massachusetts. It was as close as you got to military without things actually being paid for by the U.S. Army. Skinner winced. Three kids. Damn. "How do you know?"

"The first kid's roommate swears up and down that the kid was acting scared of his own shadow for about a week before it happened, not like the guy at all. Then there's just the timing of it, with them all being so close together. Call it a hunch."

"Not to be dense, Joe, but-"

"Why am I calling you?"

Skinner nodded his head. Whether it was by ESP or just years of breathing the other man's air at night, eating his food, walking at his speed, Joe "heard" the action. "Higher ups are refusing to explore possibilities outside of the fact that these kids were mentally imbalanced, couldn't stand up to the pressure. They think the PR damage is rampant enough at this point. I like my job, I'd like to keep it. I trust you to figure out what the hell is going on for me."

"It's been a long time since I sat anywhere but behind a desk."

"That's were you'll be sitting here, too. There's a position open in the math department. Algebra, nothing too risky." There was weary laughter in Joe's voice.

"Still a sadist. When is this new teacher expected to show?"

"How soon is the first flight out?"

*

"Mulder."

"Hey."

"Walter, Walter, Walter, making private calls on company time."

"Who says this is private?"

"If you had a case for me, it would be Kim on that side of the phone. What's going on?"

"Joe called, he needs a favor. I have to head out to his school, next flight out."

"What's so urgent?"

"An outbreak of suicides that he suspects may have been coerced among the boys."

"Local law can't handle it?"

"I'm going in undercover. Not even the school's administration knows."

"Shit. Walter-"

"Don't even start. I'll nail you with hours worth of instances where you went off and proceeded to scare the shit out of me. Keep your phone charged, I have a feeling I'll probably need a willing ear and a brain that was made for putting things together."

"That's all I am to you, huh? A set of ears and a brain."

"I'll miss you."

"I'll be waiting. Yellow ribbon and all."

*

Beyond Scully's little girl, it had been a long time since Skinner had been around anything that could marginally be referred to as a kid. All of his nieces and nephews were long since grown and, seeing as how most of them had been raised in other states, his relationship to them in their formative years had been distant, if loving.

He had forgotten how awkwardly high school boys fit into their bodies, how easily meaningless insults could be thrown around and how anything that made you different, be it talent or color or clothes preference, was something to keep locked away. Even while he was busy using breaks and evenings sifting through evidence that Joe had compiled, talking it over with Mulder and looking over school rosters of faculty, staff and students, he took time to try and actually figure out which of the students in his class needed help and which ones were bored to tears by the remediacy of the topic. The flashes of gratitude from those students, quickly covered by macho-posturing and fear of being found too amiable in regards to an authority figure, were worth the extra time it took and the mild headaches that arose from the effort. The flashes of surprise made him wonder what the hell the other teachers were doing with their time.

His experience with his classes, walking down the hallways and observing the boys at mealtimes, were what made Justin such a surprise. Justin was the former roommate of the first kid to be found dead. He had been the one to find him, hanging from the ceiling, blue and stiff and obviously dead. Joe brought Justin to meet Skinner about a week into his "stay" at the school, after the assistant director had exhaustively gone over pictures and written testimonies and blueprints and anything else pertinent. Joe had assured Skinner that Justin knew how to keep a secret and was more than willing to in this case.

They all met over at Joe's place where Skinner was supposedly renting the room upstairs until he could find a place. Justin arrived a few minutes late and came in when invited, unapologetic. Though Skinner was sure the kid was not an athlete, he had the physical confidence of one, never unsure of how he fit into his own skin. It took Skinner a few minutes to figure out why the kid looked so familiar and then it hit him. Justin was the school's leading outcast. His father had shipped him off to the school rather than accepting his son's homosexuality and Justin, overly aware of the forms that rejection could take, still hadn't bothered to re-enter the closet upon his arrival at the dorms. He didn't touch where he wasn't invited, or proposition where it wasn't welcome, he just simply allowed it to be understood that he was gay, the way he was blond, or from Pittsburgh or an artist. In the seconds that it took all of this to occur to and be processed by Skinner, he knew immediately why Joe trusted the kid's instincts in regard to his dead roommate.

Skinner held out his hand to Justin. "Thanks for coming."

Justin smiled and grasped the offered hand. "Joe's been there for me a couple of times, thought I'd return the favor."

It had taken Skinner less than a day to figure out that Joe wasn't exactly out at the school, but there was an unspoken recognition of his sexuality. They also seemed to be silently aware of his medical condition, but then, it couldn't have been easy to hide a longtime lover slowly dying from AIDS-related-complications in a town that centered on a boarding school and one main street. Judging from the turnout when Skinner had come for the funeral two years back, he doubted that Joe had even tried. All the same, the school seemed willing to keep him on and even maintain his insurance as long as none of the parents kicked up any dust.

Skinner motioned to the three seats around the kitchen table and they sat down. He was immediately aware that for all of Justin's bravado, the senior's smile had been a bit too bright and, now, his fingers were drumming somewhat erratically against the table's surface. He was nervous. "Justin?"

Blue eyes jumped to brown ones. "Yeah?"

"Were you and Scott Jennings on good terms? Friendly?"

"Scott was cool." Justin shrugged. "I mean we lived together, and he didn't give me any shit. He let me call Brian on his cell a couple of times, so my parents wouldn't see it on the bill."

"Brian?" Justin had stopped looking at Skinner, staring at some fascinating point in the table's pattern of wood grains. Skinner kept his question voiced in a low, unthreatening tone.

"First guy I fucked. Kind of a friend. Kind of. It's complicated."

Skinner smiled. He'd been there. "So Scott started acting different?"

Justin nodded. "Freaked. At first I just thought he had gotten himself hooked on something, LSD or something to make him all jumpy and weird. He stopped calling home as much. Generally he called like twice a week, he had this little sister at home that he was totally protective of, always wanting to know what was going on with, who was asking her out, all that shit. I think he might have called them once in all of those last two weeks. It was a short call too, I remember because I was surprised. He sounded like he was in a hurry, except he didn't have anywhere to go."

Skinner considered this and changed the flow of the questioning. "Did you know either Christopher Press or Brian Lovett?"

"Not so much." Justin shook his head. "Brian could be an asshole, not really too secure in his manhood, you know?" He snickered while Skinner held back the urge to himself. "Chris was his little lackey, not too much of a backbone, but when you could get him by himself, he wasn't so bad. Quiet, probably smarter than he wanted to let on."

"Why do you say that?"

"Rumor was that Chris was the only reason Brian got the grades he got. They all had to keep those grades, you know, Chris, Brian and Scott. They were all like, eightieth generation, or something sick like that."

Skinner thought about that. "They were all seniors, right? Up for specific colleges?"

Justin gave a knowing smile, "Yeah, but they were probably only seventieth generation at those schools."

"Okay. Can I get ahold of you through Joe if I need you again?"

"That's it?" Justin raised an eyebrow.

"Pretty much."

"Um, Joe?" Justin's voice was suddenly quiet.

"I left the receiver in the living room. Stay on as long as you want."

The kid was out of his seat faster than Skinner would have believed possible. "Thanks."

Skinner waited before he was gone to give Joe a baleful look.

"Letting the kid call his boy behind the parents back?" He shook his head in mock disapproval.

"Brian is no boy. The question of whether he is Justin's or not...I prevaricate on that issue."

"You and your big words. Used to turn me on."

"I know. Mulder use them?"

Skinner didn't look at Joe as he nodded. Joe chuckled. "He seemed the type."

That made Skinner look. Joe had only met Mulder once, after the funeral.

Joe met his eyes. "You left him with me while you were making tea, after they had all left." "They" were the guests at the wake. "He was...does he say the right things a lot?"

"Um, no, rarely ever, actually. Sometimes, when it matters, though-"

"It mattered."

"I know."

"Is he helping you with this case?"

"He'll figure it out for me. Maybe not with a direct explanation, but he'll hit on something that never occurred to me and things will fall into place. He's always making things clear."

*

"Seventieth generation, huh?" Mulder had been surprisingly quiet through most of Skinner's recap of the interview with Justin.

"He may have been exagerating."

"Okay, so kid has big expectations, starts acting frantic, hangs himself."

"Succinct."

"The three of them were into something. I'll bet you others are too."

"Something what?"

He was silent for a few seconds and Skinner let him work it through, comfortable with the sounds of sunflowers seeds being chewed. "You looked at the coroners reports, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Did Scott have any body art?"

"Black circle on his left ankle, it looked like something that was aspiring to be a celtic design and fell short."

"Did the other two have them?"

"Yeah, but not the drawings."

"Drawings?"

"They found markings drawn in with red marker or pen over Scott's left pec."

"What did the markings look like?"

"A star with a hexagon surrounding it."

"Nobody thought this was the least bit odd?"

"Seventieth generation, Mulder. You don't kick up dirt with that kind."

"I'd say you have a cult. Scott must have been chosen for some kind of sacrifice that he had to perform himself, I could do some looking into it, but in all likelihood, a place that secluded, even if it started with something related to basic occult, it's probably mutated. My guess is that invites are by class and status only, so you should be worried about other seventieth generation boys."

"You can't tell me they're just killing all their members off, not only is that counter-productive, if this cult has existed for some years, as you are assuming it has, this would have happened before now."

"I bet if you look in the archives of the local paper, suicides occur regularly every four to five years, and that they are always by old-money boys. As far as the other two go, no they weren't sacrifices, something else is going on there. Blackmail is most likely, colleges don't like hearing that you do stuff like blood rituals."

Skinner's eyes narrowed. "Thanks."

"You sound like a man who knows what he's about to do. I love it when you get all determined on me."

Skinner laughed. "Joe told me that he likes you."

"Try not to sound so surprised."

"I didn't know you had talked to him."

"I wanted to..." Mulder stopped chewing the seeds and Skinner could hear the wooden floors in their apartment creak underneath the other man's pacing. "You know I don't understand, you deserve so much more than this. More than me. I wanted to find out who he was, because you were happy-"

"Shut up."

"You miss him, and I thought-"

"Shut up." The words came out as a full out growl and Mulder listened. "You're right, I was happy with him, and I do miss him. As a friend. We were lovers at a time in my life when I couldn't imagine anything good being real in my life and he was real. When that came to an end, and we faded into friends with a bit of sexual chemistry on the side, we both knew things were over. Joe is not and never was everything to me. You are. When I entered the FBI I willingly entered into silence and self-denial in order to help others, to feel useful. When I met you, I escaped that. I never would have opened up, but you seemed so real to me, the first real thing since Joe. I don't have to pretend with you, ever. Shit, I'm over here playing teacher and when I call you, I'm me again. You give me depth and sanity and amaze me more than anyone else has ever begun to. Don't belittle that."

"Solve your case, Walter. I need you here."

*

Skinner had always liked how easy it was to look for things once you knew they were there. He had managed to find Justin before school that day and find out who Chris and Brian's friends were and the names of the kids most well known for being from old families. He called in a favor to the Lone Gunmen and had them hack into the school's system, sending all their transcript information and other school files his way. Two of the kids had refused counseling after no more than three sessions. They were described as being "nervous" in their time with the counselor. The others showed mostly normal grief patterns, which didn't cause Skinner to rule them out, but he kept his eyes trained on the first two, Jimmy Kendon and Daniel Bryant.

Daniel looked like he was addicted to something. The circles around his eyes were so dark it was hard to find the eyes inside them. Jimmy was skittish. Skinner had accidentally brushed the kid's hand while walking past him in the hall and the resulting jump had forced Jimmy into the lockers.

That was cause enough for Skinner to ask Justin for a favor. He asked Joe for the room number of Justin's dorm and visited late that afternoon. He knocked on the door and was greeted by a distracted offer to enter of his own accord. He opened the door and waited at the threshold. "Justin?"

The younger man looked up from a sketch pad and gave him a surprised look. "Hi. You can come all the way in."

Skinner took him up on it and let the door shut behind him. "You're good." He motioned with his head toward the unfinished sketch.

"Oh. Um, thanks. Did you want something?"

"Do you have gym with either Jimmy Kendon or Daniel Bryant?"

"Daniel, yeah. Why?"

"Have you ever noticed any body art?"

"Sure. He has the same black circle that Scott had. Jimmy has it too. Hell, Chris, Brian, Tom and Trey, all those guys went out and got them over presidents weekend, it was some kind of weird friendship thing. I think Trey's dad took them. Those tats aren't secrets or anything."

Skinner figured that that was the answer as to why nobody had questioned them. They didn't look nefarious and they had been put on in the presence of a parent. Of course.

"Was Daniel particularly close with Chris, Brian or Scott?"

"Him and Scott were pretty tight, but if you're asking about the zombie look he has going, he's been really stressed out about his American Government class. He gets jumpier than Jimmy is in general when he's in there."

"Does Jimmy have that class?"

"Not that I know of."

"Does he have any classes with the same teacher?"

"Mr. Richards only teaches one senior class, so I doubt it, but he probably had him last year for AP American History. Jimmy's a fucking genius, takes everything AP. Why?"

Skinner wasn't about to tell Justin that Daniel's stolen records showed him doing better in American Government that any other class, so he just rubbed a hand over his face and said. "I don't know yet."

Justin nodded. "You'd better go. With my rep, they'll be suspecting I seduced you in here and charging you with statutory anyway."

The comment, accompanied by a tone of sardonic but weary acceptance, made Skinner remember what Joe had said about Brian not being a boy, but Justin didn't look like it was something he wanted to pursue. "Take care of yourself, Justin."

Justin looked up from the drawing he had returned to. "Doing my best."

Skinner made sure to shut the door quietly on his way out.

*

Skinner invited Sam Richards to lunch on the excuse that he was trying to settle in and get to know the rest of the faculty. It took him all of ten minutes to assess that he did not like the history teacher. Sam was in his late forties, with the air of someone who thought he should be teaching at a college, not a high school. Not even one as prestigious as the one he held a job at. Very intellectual and very smooth, with none of the charm necessary to temper the snobbery that these qualities produced. Casual conversation with other teachers had garnered that Sam was generally fair in his classroom, but could, on occasion, pick favorites. He mainly lectured, not being very interested in what his students had to say, and though he was meticulous about keeping appointments with students, he could very rarely be found available outside of those scheduled times. He was married to a society girl and for one reason or another, the two had never gotten around to having children.

Skinner thanked the heavens above for that piece of luck after an hour of listening to the man ramble on over some article in the last issue of "Newsweek." Skinner had given up news magazines around the same time he had begun to date Mulder. Now the only reason he brought one home was for the two of them to carefully pick apart the fallacies of the articles.

Though he couldn't later remember how he had done it, Skinner managed to steer the conversation back to the school. Pretending a kind of macabre interest in the events that had lead up to his joining the faculty, Skinner commented: "Most of the kids seem to be handling things pretty well. A couple of them, though...um, Daniel and Jimmy?" Skinner pretended to think about whether those were the right names before continuing, "They look to be falling apart at the seams."

Sam missed the edge of his coffee cup and milk drained onto the saucer. He quickly righted his aim before responding. "Daniel's something of a drama queen. He's doing fine in my class. No problems whatsoever. He just needs attention."

Skinner watched milk drip from the bottom of the other man's coffee cup as he lifted it to take a sip. "Attention, huh?"

"Yeah, you know. Rich, single child, likes to be the center of everything. Wouldn't be surprised if he followed the others just for the headlines it would create." Sam looked up at his companion. "Just kidding, of course."

Skinner responded with a tight smile. "Of course."

*

Joe looked at Skinner as he went to go answer the doorbell. "You sure as hell better know what you're doing."

Skinner didn't have time to answer before the door opened to admit Daniel and Jimmy. Joe stood back and the two entered the house with a very quiet, "Hey, Mr. D." They added a quick, "Mr. Skinner," upon spotting the second man behind him. Joe ushered them all into the kitchen where he had stocked up on sweets to make things a little easier.

Joe grabbed a brownie and waited until the two kids had picked something to munch on. "Jimmy, Dan, have you both met Mr. Skinner?"

Two nods in the affirmative. Joe went on. "He's an old friend of mine. If I tell you what he's really doing at the school, and I hear it go beyond these walls, I will know who told." Skinner had always been impressed by the threats that Joe could leave unsaid and still communicate. He had learned the best of his AD lecture skills from the other man.

"Yes sir." Jimmy's voice was higher than any high school kid's had the right to be.

"Alright then. Skinner works for a law enforcement agency. He's here because I felt there was something more going on with Scott, Chris and Brian than caught the eye."

"You think we were involved?" Dan looked like he was going to throw up the mini-chocolate bar he had been sucking on.

Joe looked at Skinner who said, "I think you know what happened."

The two boys looked everywhere but at each other.

"I have enough that I could probably get both of you a stint in prison for involuntary manslaughter if you don't want to talk." That was a lie, the thing about Mulder's solutions to cases was that they were always right and very rarely provable. Given time, Skinner could have the evidence for that sentence, but in the meantime, he didn't think either one would call his bluff. "But I think if you decide you do want to talk about what went on, what is going on, that something like that could probably be avoided."

Surprisingly, it was Jimmy who eventually took the lead, sounding small and frightened out of his mind. He started at the very beginning, talking about the expectation that you would join "The Circle," the tiny group of pantheistic worshippers perpetuated throughout the generations of good ol' boys at the school. The group ran under the laws and practices outlined in a book. That was how they had found out about the mandatory sacrifice, and how to select the member of the group for that sacrifice. When Scott had actually gone through with it, Chris had freaked. He was one of Mr. Richards' "pets" and under the impression that he could trust the man. Under the guise of wanting to help, Richards had gotten the names of the other boys in the group and blackmailed them with the threat of revealing their activities to the colleges they had applied to. Skinner didn't have to ask what he had asked of the boys, he knew a look of humiliation and shame when he saw one.

*

Skinner stayed around for a couple of days after that to help Joe deal with the fallout of the situation. He made certain that the boys had good lawyers and that those lawyers were aware of the parent's connection to all of this. He saw Sam Richards into custody. On his last night there, Justin came over and spent some time hanging out and talking about things that didn't involve cults and suicides and familial expectations.

Joe and he stayed up long after Justin had gone back to the dorms. They were both falling asleep when Skinner said quietly, "Mulder was glad to hear that you liked him. He thought I wanted him to be you."

Joe didn't open his eyes. "Yeah, Phil thought that for a long time too."

"How'd you make him see differently?"

"I kept coming home to him."

Skinner picked up his cell phone. Mulder's insomniac tendencies disappeared when Skinner was there to make them, but only then. Sure enough, the younger man's voice was alert. "Mulder."

"You figure everything out for me." Skinner and Mulder both knew that he wasn't talking about the case.

"And you do all the work to make things right."

Lyrics by Sarah MacLachlan

Hey your glass is empty,
it's a hell of a long way home
Why don't you let me take you,
it's no good to go alone
I never would have opened up,
but you seemed so real to me
After all the bullshit I've heard,
it's refreshing not to see
I don't have to pretend
She doesn't expect it from me

So don't tell me I haven't been good to you
Don't tell me I haven't been there for you
Just tell me why nothing is good enough

Hey little girl,
would you like some candy?
Your momma said it's okay
The door is open,
come outside and play

~No, I can't come out today~

It's not the wind that cracked your shoulder
and threw you to the ground
Who's there that makes you feel so afraid,
your shaken to the bone
You know I don't understand
You deserve so much more than this

So don't tell me why he's never been good to you
Don't tell me why he's never been there for you
And I'll tell you why is simply not good enough

So just let me try
And I will be good to you
Just let me try
And I will be there for you
I will show you why
You're so much more than good enough ...