"Wishful Thinking" (3/3)

Submission: "Wishful Thinking" (3/3)
Date: Sun, 4 Oct 1998

Disclaimers in Part 1.

Part 09 of 11.

Rutherford, NJ
3:02 p.m.

Katie checked the street as though she expected someone to jump in
front of
her and kill her. She had spent her school day worrying about what would
happen if she and Joanna where somehow connected and now she was checking
the
streets. <I'm getting a little to paranoid> she realized as she ran to her
door and went inside.

WE BOTH ARE, Joanna said.

Katie smiled. <We really need to stop thinking we are. I heard
rumors that
Michael Austin is going to be brought in.>

YEP. THINGS ARE LOOKING UP. MULDER IS STILL SICK, BUT HE WILL
IMPROVE. I
THINK EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE OKAY. YOU CAN BECOME THE CENTER OF YOUR
PARENTS LIFE. SOMETHING I NEVER WAS.
Joanna sounded sad, forlorn.

<It must have been horrible.>
IT WASN'T HORRIBLE. IT WAS JUST LONELY. MY PARENTS NEVER WANTED A
KID. I
WAS JUST A "MISTAKE." I HEARD MY DAD SAY THAT ONCE. I THINK THEY LOOKED FOR
ANY REASON TO KNOCK ME OFF.

I DIDN'T SAY THAT. BUT DON'T THINK I NEVER WONDERED. I WONDER
EVERY DAY.
BUT YOU DON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THAT. I CAN MAKE SURE YOUR PARENTS PAY
ATTENTION TO YOU. DON'T WORRY.

DON'T WORRY, Joanna repeated, but somehow her words didn't seem
reassuring.

Dallas, Texas
Holiday Inn
3:22 p.m.

"Hey, Scully."

Scully looked up from her files to find Mulder awake and looking
surprisely
better and even near lucid. Her face broke into a smile.

"Hey, yourself." She got up and walked to the bed and sat down,
reaching her
hand for his forehead as she sat. It felt cooler than before. She reached
for her thermometer and stuck it into his ear. She was surprised to hear no
agrument from Mulder; she frowned at that. Mulder just looked at her,
wondering why she was frowning.

The thermometer beeped and Scully looked at it. 103.7. <A definite
improvement> she thought, but frowned again when Mulder began coughing.

"Scully, what's wrong?" he asked, as soon as he stopped coughing.
"And what
am I doing in your room?" He looked at his surroundings, trying to remember
what happened.

"Mulder, you're sick. Don't you remember?" she asked, concern
written all
over her face.

"Sick. Right...." he said, unsure of his words. He struggled to
remember,
but he seemed to be drawing a big blank.

Scully's look of concern deepened and she leaned closer to him,
studying his
face. Mulder suddenly grew very self-conscious of himself. He burrowed
deeper under the covers, suddenly cold. But that just seemed to make
Scully's concern grow.

"Quit looking at me like that," he mumbled, and suddenly threw the
covers
off. "It's hot."

"I know," she said gently as she walked into the bathroom. She
returned a
minute later with some water and to aspirin in her hand.

"Drink this and take these." Mulder did both with no comment.
Scully
frowned the whole time, but was relieved to see him drink the whole glass.
After he was done, she set the glass next the bed. She sighed. She had no
idea what to do. Mulder was acting out of character, and he didn't seem to
recall the events that happened only this morning. Taking him to a hospital
was becoming a _very_ good idea. But she had promised him. Of course, he
was
semi-lucid at the time.

"Scully, stop being so quiet," Mulder said quietly and started to
sit up.
Scully pushed him down.

"I'm sorry, Mulder. Didn't mean to scare you." She brushed his
hair off his
forehead and noticed how sweat-soaked it was. "Mulder, do you remember
what
happened this morning?"

Mulder looked her strangely. "This morning?" He swallowed and was
surprised
to find his throat so sore. He felt like he was swallowing a rock.

"Throat hurt?" Scully asked sympathetically.

Mulder nodded. Scully reached into her bag and pulled out some
cough
medicine. She reached for a spoon from the decaying room service dishes and
poured some cough syrup on it. "Open up," she coaxed.

Mulder eyed the spoon. "Cough syrup?"

"Yep. And the bottle says it tastes just like cherry," she joked.

"That's the worst kind. Fake-cherry taste." But Mulder opened up
anyway.

"One of the side-effects of this stuff is drowsiness," Scully said,
putting
the spoon away. "So you should get some sleep."

Mulder wanted to open his mouth to protest. He really did. But his
eyelids
weren't cooperating. Before he knew it, he was sound asleep.

Holiday Inn
Dallas, Texas
9:55 a.m.

Scully was there when he woke up with that same blurry, fuzzy,
half-nauseous
feeling he had woken up with the morning before. He was slow in opening his
eyes and even slower in registering where he was.

"Hey, there. You awake now?" Scully asked gently.

He licked his lips. "Yeah," he said hoarsely.

Scully handed him a cup of water and aspirin and he swallowed it.
"You were
half up a couple times. You called me but when I came all you said was
'Stay
here now'. Maybe.... five times last night. You didn't let me get much
sleep, Mister," she joked.

He shrugged and swallowed, grimacing. "Sorry."

A hand came up instinctively to his forehead. "You're still pretty
warm.
How would you feel about another dose of that cough syrup?"

"How would you feel about getting wacked over the head with a two by
four?"

"That bad? You drank it yesterday with no complaint.... seemed to
do you
good for a while."

"It was a suicide attempt," Mulder said blandly.

"Right. Didn't it taste like cherry??" Scully was inspecting the
bottle.
"See, there's lotsa fun stuff in here.... some alcohol..., it didn't taste
like cherry?"

"Earwax," Mulder said.

"Earwax," Scully repeated. "Really. Well that's interesting. How
'bout
another couple spoonfuls?"

Mulder whimpered. "Do I _have_ to??"

Scully eyed him. "It'll make you feel better. After you drink this
we'll
see what we can do about getting you something for the throat, too."

Mulder sighed. "What about the headache?"

"Um... aspirin?"

"Didn't I just have some of that?"

"Then what are you complaining for!? Here, just drink this then you
can have
some water to wash out the taste." Reluctantly, her partner opened his
mouth
and swallowed the medicine. "There, that wasn't so bad." Scully smiled at
him
and returned the cap to the bottle.

"Speak for yourself," he croaked and slid back into the bed. "Can I
get up
now?"

<There's the Mulder I know.> Scully grinned.

"What's so funny? I wanna get up!" She kept laughing so Mulder
took the
opportunity to sit up and slide out of bed and was almost to the door when a
firm hand pushed him back on the bed.

"Mulder, you _know_ you can't go out."

"Fine." He scowled. "Fine, well can I work?"

"On _what_, do you suggest? I don't know if you've noticed but
we've reached
a major stand-still on our case. We're not gonna get anything done till you
get better?"

"Why?"

"Because, we need to go check out the status on a certain Mr.
Michael Austin.
Wait here a minute." Scully went over to the dresser and returned with a
photo of Michael Austin the Rutherford Police had faxed her. She sat down
on
the corner of Mulder's bed and waved the picture in front of him. "Fox
Mulder, meet Michael Austin. Fox, Michael, Michael, Fox."

"Don't call me that," Mulder growled and took the picture from her.
He
studied it closely, squinting against a headache and trying to concentrate.
"He looks familiar... did we ever study his case or anything?"

"Nope," Scully said. She took the picture back and replaced it in
the folder.
"Michael Austin is thirty-five years old. He's been a suspect in several
strangulation murders around the Tri-state area but has never been
convicted.
Plus, he always seems to conveniently disappear right after every crime is
committed. His fingerprints were found all over the crime scene.... well,
under first inspection they just found some of Joanna Wasserman's and, of
course, Sarah's own. After the notorious "rope" was found, and they saw
Michael Austin's prints on it, they rechecked the crime scene and found at
least a dozen new sets of fingerprints: all Michael Austin's. Here, look at
this." Scully handed him a brief report the Rutherford police had put
together.

Mulder held it in front of his face, squinted, moved the paper
closer and
further from his viewpoint but couldn't seem to get the words to focus. He
looked over at Scully for help but she was busy reading another report. He
looked back at the paper, the words swimming before his eyes and, suddenly
feeling incredibly dizzy and nauseous, had to close his eyes.

Several minutes later, Scully looked back at her partner and found
him with
his knees bent up to his chest, head between his knees, eyes scrunched
closed
(from what she could see), the report she had given him discarded to the
side.
Feeling horrible she had left him with work when he couldn't handle it,
Scully
began to hover; rubbing his back, trying to get him to look up, begging him
to
tell her what was wrong.

"Leave me alone," he muttered between clenched teeth.

"What's the matter?? Mulder, talk to me!"

"Nothing," he said, his voice muffled from his current position. "I
just got
a little nauseous reading the report."

Scully sighed, half in relief, half angry at herself for letting him
work.
"_Trying_ to read you mean. You probably didn't get anywhere. I don't know
what I was thinking, I'm really sorry, Mulder. I don't know what I was
thinking, you weren't ready for that." He hadn't moved and she was
wondering
whether he was listening. "Mulder?"

Mulder heard his name being called but he was too tired to answer.
The
exhaustion had crept up on him suddenly but he couldn't figure it out.
"Tired," he yelled, or maybe he whispered, he wasn't quite sure at this
point.

"I know," Scully said, rubbing his back. "It's that cough medicine,
it puts
you to sleep. It's supposed to have a 'side effect of drowsiness' but its
particularly effective on you, apparently. C'mere, lie down and sleep it
off." She helped him uncurl from his near fetal position, then pulled the
covers over him.

The Martins' Kitchen
Rutherford, NJ
11:56 a.m.

"Good morning to you too, sleepy head," Buster Martin said when
Katie finally
stumbled downstairs close to noon.

Katie collapsed in a chair. "Coffee," she mumbled under her breath.
"Get me
some coffee."

Her mother laughed. "Not yet, honey. When you turn thirteen,
okay?"

Katie mumbled something else incoherently then stood up and turned
towards
the steps. "I'm going back to my room," she muttered.

Her parents looked up at her worriedly. "How late were you up last
night?"
her mother asked.

"You don't even want to know."

Holiday Inn
Dallas, Texas
4:00 p.m.

"That's the man!!!!!!!"

Scully looked up from the case folder she had been reading. She was
beginning to seriously regret letting Mulder work again. His temperature
remained at a steady 102.9 but he seemed able to function fairly well for
the
moment so Scully left him alone.

"Scully, that's the man!" her partner repeated.

Scully let out a long sigh. "What man?"

"The man that... the..., oh, c'mon,you know. The man that..."
Mulder bit
his lip in frustration and stared down at his lap. "The man," he said again
softly. "You know, the _man_."

She sighed again and rubbed his back comfortingly. He hadn't been
able to
remember several recent events and the frustration apparent in his eyes
almost
made her cry. "It's okay, Mulder, you'll think of it later."

"I guess so," he muttered. He took a deep breath and let it out in
slow
intervals. "I'm gonna stop now."

"Okay," Scully said gently. She took the folders off his lap and
helped him
lay down. Noticing he was squinting, she shut off the light by the bed.
"Does your head hurt?"

He nodded slowly and let his eyes drift shut.

Scully watched him drift off and picked up the folder Mulder had
been looking
at. The picture of Michael Austin fell out. Scully bent down and picked it
up, Mulder’s words running through her mind. (“That’s the man!”)

<What man, Mulder?> she thought; her brow furrowed in her own
frustration.
<Does he mean the man who killed Sarah?> That would make sense, but she
knew
Mulder didn’t mean that. If he did, he would have remembered more clearly.

<Oh, well. Maybe he will remember later.> Deep down she hoped he
meant that
Michael Austin was the killer. Then they could get this case behind them.
Hell, that night in Florida was less stressful!

Rutherford, NJ
7:15 p.m.

<Thank God we had the day off today> Katie thought as she rubbed her
tired
eyes. She had felt her parents prying eyes on her all day and she was
getting
seriously annoyed. She wished they would just leave her alone. But she
didn’t say that. She had enough of wishing, for awhile at least.

I LIKED DAYS OFF, TOO. BUT MY PARENTS NEVER WORRIED ABOUT ME. HOW
DOES IT
FEEL?

<Shitty.> Katie was grumpy, tired, and beginning to worry about the
FBI
agents again.

Joanna picked up on this. DON’T WORRY THE FBI AGENTS ARE STILL IN
TEXAS.
MULDER IS STILL SICK. THEY WILL BE THERE A FEW DAYS AT LEAST. WHY AREN’T
YOU
HAPPY? YOU THE CENTER OF YOUR PARENTS LIFE. THAT’S WHAT YOU WANTED, RIGHT?

<Yeah,> Katie thought sadly, <But now I understand why Sarah had to
be so
perfect. She _had_ to achieve her goals, because my parents were _staring_
at
her. She _had_ to be perfect.>

Joanna was silent a minute. YOU’RE CRAZY. SHE WAS PERFECT JUST
CAUSE SHE
WANTED TO PISS YOU OFF. SHE _WANTED_ TO BE THE APPLE OF HER PARENTS EYE.
SHE
_WANTED_ TO STEAL THE SPOTLIGHT. SHE WANTED TO BE THE BEST, REGARDLESS OF
HOW
SHE HURT YOU.

The way Joanna said those words, the bitterness she used, caused
Katie to get
angry at Sarah. The pity she had been feeling a minute ago disappeared, and
bitterness seemed to replace it.

<You’re right! How dare she!>

THAT’S THE SPIRIT!

And with that, Katie stormed down into Sarah’s room. It was
perfect,
untouched since her death. The bed was made, just the way Sarah made it
each
morning. The books lined her book case, all alphabetized. Not on thing
was
on the floor. Katie’s parents hadn’t touched the room since Sarah’s death.
It was kept in the same way it had been when Sarah last left it.

Katie stared at the room. The perfect bed. The perfect books.
The perfect
floor.
Suddenly Katie grew angry from it all. She wanted to trash the room. She
wanted to ruin the perfect image her sister had left behind.

DO IT, Joanna coaxed.

That’s all Katie needed. She suddenly went crazy. She tore the
covers off
the bed. She threw all the books around the room. She poured Sarah’s nail
polish on the nice neat carpet. When she was done, she looked back in
satifaction.

<Now where’s the perfect image?> she thought with a smile.

Dallas, Texas
Holiday Inn
6:45 p.m.

Mulder actually surprised Scully by eating something. Not much but
something. Scully was happy at least he had eaten something.

Twenty minutes later, she was rubbing his back as he threw it all
back up.
<Oh,
well> she thought as she helped him get back into bed.

“I can give you something to help the nausea,” Scully offered, after
she had
settled him into bed.

“No,” Mulder said, almost shouting. “I don’t need any more shots.”

Scully smiled at the fact he remembered the last shot. Maybe things
were
looking up. He _did_ seem more lucid, and his temp was 102.7. Still up
there, but it seemed to be slowly coming down. Still, he had a long way to
go.

“It will calm your stomach,” Scully coaxed and was already going
threw her
bag. “You haven’t even anything for a long time, Mulder. You can’t even
seem
to keep water down. And if you do, as soon as you eat some food, it comes
right back up.” Scully had gone into her “doctor-mode” and Mulder sighed in
frustration.

“I fall asleep from that stuff,” he complained. “And then I still
feel fuzzy
after I wake up.”

Scully had already gotten the needle out, but put it down to talk to
him.

“Mulder, I know it does. But it’s this or the hospital. Take you
pick.”

Mulder groaned. “I guess you win.”

“I usually do,” Scully replied with a smile and picked the needle
back up.

Five minutes later Mulder was watching her threw half-closed eyes,
fighting
to stay awake. He looked at Scully’s eyes and saw the dark circles under
her
eyes.

“Scully, you need some rest,” he mumbled sleepily, and hoped Scully
understood him.

“I’m fine, Mulder,” she replied as she retreated back to her chair
and sat
down.

“No, you’re not. If I told you I was fine, you’d be telling me what
a load
of shit that is. So, don’t the same thing to me.” Mulder sighed and closed
his eyes.

“I won’t,” Scully said, and thinking Mulder was asleep, went back to
her
chair. As soon as she sat down, Mulder’s eyes popped back open.

“Go sleep in the other room, Scully,” he mumbled, half-asleep, but
well aware
of what he was saying. “It’s more comfortable and I’m not going anywhere.”
He sleepily raised both hands and showing her that he wasn’t crossing his
fingers. “See? Scouts honor.”

Scully got up and walked to him. She _was_ tired. Maybe just one
hour of
sleep wouldn’t hurt. “Ok, Mulder. I’ll go take a nap. But if you as much
as
walk one foot from this bed, I will shoot you.” She pointed to her gun,
which
was on the table.

“Even if I have to use the john?” Mulder joked, and closed his eyes
again.

“Mulder, you leave this room and I will shoot you,” she clarified.

“I would have thought that shooting me would have bored you by now,”
he
teased, not opening his eyes.

“Mulder, nothing about you bores me,” she said as she slipped out
the door.

Holiday Inn (Scully's room)
Dallas, Texas
6:45 a.m.

Scully woke up early but was surprised at how refreshed she felt.
She lay in
bed, staring up at ceiling, her arms crossed behind her head, just marveling
how great she felt after getting some sleep. It was a good thing Mulder had
convinced her to.... Mulder!

Scully bolted out of bed. He had convinced her to go to bed, and
had
probably been plotting to ditch her again and she had missed it because she
was so tired.

"Damnit, Mulder, you'd better still be here." She pushed open the
conjoining
door and marched into the room. "Mulder??" Scully called. No one answered
her. She moved closer and saw he was indeed still there, out cold on the
bed.
Sighing and laughing in relief, Scully didn't notice the folders strewn
around
Mulder's bed or the fact that he was sitting up with his glasses on in sleep
until several minutes later.

"Mulder!!!"

Her partner physically jumped ten feet out of bed and landed,
squashing
several files.

"You were working!" Scully accused, grabbing the folder that had
been in his
hand from him.

Mulder ground his teeth. "You don't have to yell, I'm right here."

"You were working," she said again for lack of a better topic of
conversation. <Jeez, Dana, he's probably got the mother of all headaches
from
reading all this material and you have no sympathy.> "You were working."
Scully was starting to feel rather stupid, plus she had become increasingly
redundant and unoriginal in a span of two minutes.

"Thanks for noticing." Mulder put his glasses on the bedside table
and,
moving gingerly, got up and walked jerkily toward the bathroom.

"Hey!" Scully called after him. "Hey, Mulder, get back here, we
weren't
finished!" He didn't answer her. "You were working!!!!!!" she yelled.

Katie Martin's Room
Rutherford, NJ
9:45 a.m.

Frustration got the best of Katie after twenty minutes of talking to
herself.

<Joanna, if you don't want to talk to me, would you just say so, so
we don't
have to continue this pointless conversation??>

Joanna sighed. LOOK, I'M SORRY. I'M JUST... THINKING. ABOUT
SOMETHING
ELSE.

YOU HAVE _NO IDEA_ WHAT I GO THROUGH EVERY DAY!!! Joanna exploded.
YOUR
PARENTS _LOVE_ YOU. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE HATED BY YOUR
PARENTS, TO... TO.... TO HAVE THEM WANT YOU _DEAD_! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT ITS
LIKE TO BE DEAD. Her voice had fallen to a low growl. YOU DON'T KNOW
_ANYTHING_ ABOUT ME. I SPEND _MY_ TIME HELPING YOU, FIXING YOUR LIFE--

I GOT RID OF SARAH, FREED YOU FROM BLAME WITH THOSE FBI AGENTS
AND... OH,
ME?? DO _I_ GET ANY THANKS? ANY _CREDIT_? NO! AND WHY DO I DO IT?? BEATS
ME!

Katie, physically shaken, tried several times to summon a retort but
none
came to mind. She fiddled with her fingers and was silent for ten-- fifteen
minutes before inquiring aloud in a trembling voice, "Joanna?"

No answer.

"Joanna, I'm sorry! Please come back," Katie pleaded.

OKAY, OKAY, RELAX, I'M HERE. AND SHHHHH, DON'T TALK OUT LOUD, YOU
KNOW YOUR
PARENTS ALREADY THINK YOU'RE BONKERS. LISTEN, I'M NOT MAD AT YOU AND... I'M
SORRY. BUT I REALLY NEED TO BE SOMEWHERE. I CAN'T EXPLAIN IT BUT I... I
NEED
TO CONTACT SOMEBODY

There was a pause, then, NO. SOMEONE ELSE. I'LL... I'LL EXPLAIN
LATER.
ANOTHER TIME. I... I GOTTA GO, BYE

Katie emitted a long sigh and stared at the silent walls.

Place Unknown
Time Unknown

MO-- MOM?

Mrs. Wasserman jumped at the sound of the voice, so familiar to her
ears but
somehow, so odd, like a foreign language. She stood up slowly, glancing
warily around her. "Joanna, sweetie?"

A choked voice responded. YES MOMMY

Mrs. Wasserman gasped. "Oh my God, sweetie, where are you? Honey,
honey,
where are you?" She yelled frantically.

MOM, STOP. CALM DOWN, IT'S OKAY. I'M... I'M NOT HERE. WELL, I'M
NOT
_PHYSICALLY_ THERE BUT... OH MOM! DON'T BE SCARED, I JUST WANT TO TALK TO
YOU!

Joanna's mother cowered back. "Okay baby," she said softly.

MOM... I JUST WANT TO KNOW... ONE THING. ONE THING... OH, MOM, DID
YOU
_WANT_ ME TO DIE???

Tears sprang to Mrs. Wasserman's eyes. "Of course not, baby. You
know how
you... died." The conversation was obviously an odd one and explaining to
your daughter how she died was not a usual topic of discussion.

YEAH, I KNOW HOW I DIED. HIT AND RUN-- RUTHERFORD, NEW JERSEY.
BUT...
BUT... WAS IT... _PLANNED_? Her mother burst into tears. I'M SORRY, MOM,
I'M
SO SORRY BUT I NEED TO KNOW. ALL THESE YEARS..... ALL THESE YEARS I NEVER
KNEW.... DID YOU LOVE ME, MOM? DID YOU EVER LOVE ME OR DID YOU WANT TO KILL
ME? I KNOW I WAS BAD, I'M SO SORRY I WAS BAD, BUT DID YOU WANT TO KILL ME.

"How could you ask such a question??" Mrs. Wasserman said, but her
voice was
unsteady.

MOM....?

An awkward silence filled the room until Mrs. Wasserman whispered,
"It was
your father."

Joanna gasped. DAD?

"Yes, sweetie, your father... he, he belonged to a.... a group,
years ago."

WHAT GROUP? Joanna prodded.

Mrs. Wasserman took a deep breath. "A group that was... well,
almost a
_cult_ sort of group. Several people, all men actually, would meet Saturday
mornings--"

WHEN HE WENT TO THE GYM

"Yes, that's what he told us, wasn't it? He went to the gym...
actually, I
found out later, he went to a man named Oliver Wright's house and they
had...
meetings. About what, I don't actually know. But... this group didn't
believe in.... in children. I can't explain it. They... they didn't allow
any of the group member's wives have children. When I was pregnant with you
I
was so happy, sweetie, I was SO happy. But your father wasn't pleased and I
just couldn't understand it! He never spent time with you and if I asked
him
to watch you, for two-- three minutes, he'd refuse, saying he had to do
something else. And," Mrs. Wasserman paused to take a shaky breath. "When
you were three, he told me about this group. He-- he said you'd have to
be..." she breathed the last word, "killed. Now I wouldn't let him do this
of
course! I filed for a divorce, I was scared to death of him by then, but
your
father was a very, very powerful man, he had _connections_ and he didn't
want
the divorce because of course he wouldn't be able to get to you and...., you
know. So with nothing else I could do, I never took my eyes off of you.
This
went on for years and years and... finally, I thought your father had left
the
group because he had become more relaxed and didn't disappear Saturday
mornings, anymore. And then..... then we went on that vacation in
Rutherford,
remember? And it was so nice, we were all getting along so well and then....
and then, the accident happened. And I swear, I saw your father's face, as
you were being... h- hit. And he was.... he was _smiling_."

Joanna was silent.

"Sweetheart, are you still there?"

YEAH. MOM, WHAT HAPPENED TO DAD?

Mrs. Wasserman closed her eyes. "I just don't know."

End Part 09 of 11.
====================================

Part 10 of 11.

Dallas, Texas
Holiday Inn
6:47 a.m.

"You were working," Scully hissed again as she followed her partner
into the
bathroom.

"I think we have established that," he answered, and just as she
reached the
door, he shut it in her face. "Can I have some privacy?"

Scully sighed. "Fine, Mulder. But we are going to discuss this."

"Sure. Fine. Whatever."

Scully ignored that comment and went back to the bed and looked at
the mess
of folders Mulder had created. Although she was majorly ticked at him for
getting up to work, she was glad he seemed to be feeling better. His cheeks
looked a little less flushed and he didn't seem to sway when he walked, as
he
had been doing before.

She busied herself cleaning up the files when a piece of paper fell
out.
Written in Mulder's handwriting, she knew it was another one of his case
notes.

Mrs. Wasserman was distant at interview. Seemed to show love for
Joanna and
even teared at the mention of her name. Mr. Wasserman? Divorce petitioned
in
1983. Why?.....

<Divorce?> Scully glanced at Mulder's notes puzzled. The impression
of Mrs.
Wasserman Scully had perceived had been different. Then she remembered the
softer tone she was greeted with when she first arrived in Dallas. <Come to
think of it........I never _did_ talk Mr. Wasserman......>

Scully was so involved in reading Mulder's notes she didn't realize
how much
time had gone by. When she finally looked up, she realized she had spent
over
20 minutes reading Mulder's notes. She frowned when she realized he hadn't
even come out of the bathroom yet. She walked over to the door and knocked
on
it softly.

"Mulder?" No response. She knocked louder this time. "Mulder?"
Once again
she got no response. Suddenly she got very worried. "Mulder, I'm coming
in."

She found him sitting in the corner, a confused look on his face.
As she
approached him, he smiled sheepishly. "Hi, Scully," he said casually.

"Mulder, I knock on the door twice, you don't answer and now you say
'Hi
Scully'!" Scully didn't mean to shout, but she must have, because Mulder
winced.

"Jeez, Scully. I didn't hear you I guess," he replied weakly.

Scully sighed and sat down next to him. She put her hand on his
forehand,
and he didn't even turn to look at her.

"Mulder, you don't feel any warmer. But you're not any cooler,
either. How
did you end up on the floor?" She looked at him with her medical eye.

Mulder swallowed sluggishly and turned to her. "I guess I got a
little
dizzy," he admitted.

Scully frowned. "Why didn't you call me?"

" 'Cause." Mulder sighed and started to pull himself up, but
stumbled back
when another dizzy spell hit.

"Mulder, stay down. I'll help you." Scully offered him a hand up
and he
took it. Then Scully helped him ease slowly up, put her arm around him and
helped him back to bed. Once he was tucked safely in, she sat on the edge.

"Mulder, I have to go back to New Jersey tonight. I talked to
Skinner and
hopefully I can tie up the loose ends of the case there. You are _nowhere_
near 100%, so-"

Mulder cut off her off, knowing what she was going to say. "Scully,
I don't
want to be in a hospital, either here or in DC, understand?"

"Mulder, you're _sick_. You are _dehrydrated_. Whether you like it
or not-"

"I've been getting better. Even you know that. Just let me go back
with you
to Jersey, Scully. I have a theory about this case. And it sure as hell
doesn't involve Michael Austin."

"Oh?" Scully raised an eyebrow. "And this theory would be....?"

"What if Joanna could be communicating with Katie?" His face was
serious.

"Communicating?" Scully raised in eyebrow in total disbelief.

"Telepathically almost. A communication that exists only between
Joanna and
Katie. Maybe for some reason Joanna has a link to Katie. A common bond
that
allows her to communicate with Katie."

"A communication bond? Mulder, even if that was true, and I am
_not_ saying
it is true, how does Sarah Martin's death tie in to all of this?"

"Well, you did tell me you talked to Katie Martin. She said she
wished her
sister dead. What if Joanna made her wish come true?"

"Mulder, that's-"

"It's not crazy, Scully. Think about all the trouble Joanna caused
during her
life. She could have some way of being able to-" Mulder's sentence was cut
off by a fit of coughing. Scully got up and picked up the cough medicine
off
the dresser.

"Mulder, wishes can't come true, just at the snap of a finger. Even
if that
power did exist, why would a twelve-year-old girl possess it?"

"Maybe she needed it." Scully sighed and picked up a spoon off of
the
nightstand.

"Do I _really_ have to take that stuff?" Mulder whined.

"Mulder, you sound like my nephew trying to get out of bedtime." She
smiled.
"And yes, you have to take it. Especially if you plan on accompanying me
back
to New Jersey."

"Remind me never to get sick on a case again," Mulder mumbled after
he was
spoon-fed his medicine.

"I keep trying, Mulder, but you never seem to listen to me."

"Hurt and sick are two different things, Scully."

"Well, they both send your insurance premium and our expense account
ski-
high. I don't know about you, but I am not looking forward to writing my
report for Skinner."

"Me neither." Mulder closed his eyes in a grimace. "I think I'm
going to
write a letter to the manufacturer of that cough syrup."

Scully smiled. "It's not that bad."

"Yes it is." He opened his eyes, yawned and sighed. "And
_something_ has to
be done about this drowsy thing."

"You could use some more sleep anyway."

"I _slept_ all day yesterday!"

"So?" Scully said with a grin.

"I take it you aren't impressed by my theory?"

"Mulder, I'm impressed with the fact that you can keep coming up
with
stranger theories every time we have a case." The smile stayed on her face.

"My theory isn't that strange," Mulder protested and yawned again.

"No, it's definitely not as strange as some of your others," Scully
agreed
and tucked the blankets around him again. "You're falling asleep. We can
discuss your theories later."

"And go back to Jersey," Mulder said, closing his eyes.

"Maybe," Scully said as she got off the bed.

Rutherford, NJ
11:30 a.m.

Katie walked the sidewalks and past the playground, where she could
faintly
hear chants of "Thank God for Teacher Strikes!" <Yes, thank God for teacher
strikes> she agreed. It gave her the time to talk to Joanna, and to roam
the
streets with her thoughts. She was so involved in her thinking she didn't
realize she had walked right past the graveyard.

She stopped dead in her tracks, when a flower petal blew past her
feet. She
looked up and saw the gates to the graveyard open.

Maybe it was curiosity that got the better of her. Maybe it was
guilt. But
whatever it was, Katie soon found herself in the middle of the graveyard
standing in front of a newly erected headstone.

"Sarah Ann Martin. 1984-1998," she read softly. "May she rest in
heaven
above." Tears rolled down Katie's cheeks. She had to get out of there.
She
ran as fast as her little legs could carry her and didn't stop until she was
far away from the graveyard.

Holiday Inn
Dallas, Texas
5:48 p.m.

Someone was shaking him but opening his eyes just wasn't his first
priority
at the moment. Sleeping, however, was. Mulder wasn't quite sure where or
even _when_ he was but he figured he was on a long case somewhere, maybe
working for Patterson, and hadn't slept in days and days and was maybe in
the
back of a car somewhere, passed out. He sure felt bad enough for it to be
that.

"Mulder, wake _up_." A voice from somewhere in the distance was
trying to
get through to him. "C'mon, wake up, now. It's time to wake up, Mulder."

Argghhh! The damn voice was ruining all of his plans! "I'll do it
later,"
he mumbled and rolled over in an attempt to escape it.

"Mulder! There you are... c'mon, get up, we're going to New
Jersey."

Mulder jumped up. "New Jersey?" he asked hoarsely.

"Yeah. I got tickets. Phew, I was wondering if you were ever going
to get
up. It's my fault, really, I'm sorry. I gave you a little too much cough
syrup, even though I know you don't respond well to it. Well, think of it
this way, you're not coughing anymore, right?!" Scully was so relieved he
was
awake that it took her several seconds to realize she was rambling.

Mulder sat up, and, not wanting to ruin his partner's great mood,
suppressed
a cough. The sudden movement made him dizzy and he squeezed his eyes shut.
"Scully, could you get me a cup of water please?"

"Yeah, sure." She studied him. "We have an eight o'clock flight to
Newark,
okay, so you should probably take a shower and change your clothes." Scully
wrinkled her nose and then went to the bathroom and returned with the water.

"Thanks," Mulder said. He drained the glass, feeling extremely
thirsty
suddenly, and stood up. Walking to the bathroom made him dizzy and he was
glad Scully was facing the other way and not watching his every move like
she
usually did. Come to think of it, why _was_ she acting like this?
Strange....

Mulder turned the shower on cold, then stepped in. A long shudder
ran
through him, but he knew the cold would wake him up well, and he needed it;
the lasting effects of that damn cough syrup making him fuzzy.

Katie Martin's Room
Rutherford, NJ
7:53 p.m.

Katie had memorized the number. She pushed it in with shaky fingers
and her
heart pounded with the throbbing buzz of the phone.

"Dana Scully," a cheerful voice answered.

"Yeah, uh, this is Katie. Katie Martin."

"Oh, hi Katie!" Scully's mood perplexed Katie. She'd never known
the agent
to be so.... _happy_. "We were just coming to visit you."

"Agent Mulder's better??" Katie was relieved beyond belief.

"Well, yes, he's feeling a little bit better, thank you. I'll tell
him you
were concerned."

"Oh, no, no," Katie said too quickly. "Uh, no, don't. I don't want
him
to..... just, don't please."

"Um, all right. So, why did you call?"

<Oh damn,> Katie thought. <Why _did_ I call?> "Um, I was just
wondering
when you're coming to look at the rope."

"That's why we're coming up. We have an 8 o'clock flight..."
Sensing
something else was up, Scully said, "Do you want us to stop by your house in
the morning? Anything you want to talk about?"

"Um.... no. But..... well." Katie stared intently at the walls.
<Joanna,
if you're here, now would be a really good time to say something.>

I'M HERE, she said softly.

I... I DON'T KNOW.

<Well, I think you should,> she said gently. <We can talk to
whichever one
you want, and... and they'll listen and fix everything.>

"Katie? KATIE?" Agent Scully was saying.

"Yeah, I'm here. Uh, there's someone I want you to talk to. Her
name is
Joanna Wasserman." Katie added quietly after a minute, "She's a really
good
friend of mine."

Holiday Inn
Dallas, Texas
6:17 p.m.

"MULDER!"

Mulder just about jumped ten feet which, while in the shower, is
_not_ a fun,
or safe, thing to do. "What?" he asked meekly. He had no idea how long
he'd
been in the shower. The rhythm of the cold water on his back had somehow
lulled him into a trance-like state; but with the sharp needles of cold he
felt now, he couldn't figure out how.

"Mulder, you were right!"

He was _freezing_!!! He briefly heard something about being right
but that
dissolved when the shivering overtook him and he slid down to the floor of
the
shower, wanting to turn off the water, to get out, but unable to move.

"Mulder.... what are you doing in there?"

Mulder managed to lunge for the knob and turn off the water but the
cold air
on his skin wasn't much better. "No-o-o-thing," Between chattering teeth.

"You coming out?" He could hear she was right by the door now and
the last
thing he wanted was for her to come in. He knew he'd never hear the end of
it; taking a freezing shower in the middle of December. Putting forth all
his
strength, he managed to step out of the shower, grab a towel and more or
less
get it around himself before collapsing onto the shower ledge. Safely
sitting, Mulder put his head in his hands and closed his eyes. <Why did I
take that cold shower again?? Oh yeah, I remember. To get rid of the fuzzy
feeling. Then why is it still here??> Mulder sat up and considered it.
<Well, It's a _little_ better. Guess I'd better get dressed before Scully
barges in.>

"Mulder, would you hurry up?? We're gonna miss our flight!" Outside
the
bathroom door, Scully was getting impatient.

Mulder almost began sobbing for all the anguish he was in. He felt
sick, he
had just taken an ice cold shower (big mistake!) and all his partner wanted
to
talk about was the flight they were going to miss because of him! Angrily,
he
threw on his clothes and stormed out.

"Fine, I'm ready," he said, trying to sound stern, but sounding
pathetic with
his hoarse, cracking voice.

Scully looked up and grinned when he came out. "Katie wants us to
come. She
wants us to talk to Joanna."

Katie Martin's Room
Rutherford, NJ
8:17 p.m.

BUT I'M NOT TALKING TO THE LADY AGENT. SHE WOULDN'T BELIEVE US

Katie sighed for the hundredth time in three and a half minutes.
<Okay,
fine. We'll talk to Mulder. But remember, he's still sick. BE NICE.>

I WILL, I WILL

In the awkward silence, Katie thought back to when Joanna had
disappeared
yesterday, claiming she had some business to tend to. <Hey, Joanna. You
okay? I mean... after yesterday?>

YEAH.

<What'd you do yesterday?> She added, < I won't tell anyone.>

NOTHING. LOOK, I'LL TELL YOU SOME OTHER TIME, OKAY. Looking to
change the
subject quickly, she said, WHAT TIME'S THE AGENTS' FLIGHT?

<Eight. The lady said they'd come in the morning.>

FINE. ALL RIGHT, FINE. BUT I'M _NOT_ TALKING TO THE LADY. SHE'LL
JUST
LAUGH AT YOU. I DON'T WANT THAT

<Okay, okay. Relax, we'll keep her downstairs with my parents.>

Airport
7:45 p.m.

"Flight 452 to Newark now boarding at Gate 32. Flight 452 to Newark
now
boarding at Gate 32."

Mulder closed his eyes and wished that they would just shut up. He
had to
run to the gate, with Scully practically pulling him the whole way, and now
he
had to listen to the damn loudspeaker over and over. He was definitely
_not_
liking this.

Scully grabbed her bag and his. "Come on, Mulder. We're boarding."
She
smiled brightly and offered him a hand up. He took it gratefully.

He tried to push the still invading fuzziness out of his head as
Scully
handed their tickets in. He followed her silently into the plane and
sighed
with relief when they reached their seats. He plopped down with content.

Scully put her things in the overhead, then joined him, that
cheerful smile
still painted on her face.

"Well, Mulder, I think you are on the right track. Katie called and
wants us
to meet a Joanna Wesserman."

The words "Katie" and "Joanna Wesserman" seemed to push through his
tired and
fogged mind. "She did?" he said lamely, interested, but not really as
coherent as he wished he was.

Scully nodded. "I don't know what going on here, Mulder, but I
think we are
going to find out."

All Mulder could do was nod in return. Scully eyed him strangely,
but
brushing it off as effects from that cough syrup she settled into her seat.
The flight attendant came by then, a perky blond with a great smile. <And a
pair of "eyes" to match> Scully thought silently and looked at Mulder for
his
response, remembering the initial flight to New Jersey.

"Are you all right, sir?" the flight attendant asked, looking a bit
concerned.

Scully braced herself for a "Mulder line", but was surprised by his
reaction.

"I'm fine. Just tired," he replied and didn't even look in the
direction of
the flight attendant. The blond cast him a look of disbelief and walked
away.
For the first time in 2 hours, Scully's smile faded. She put a hand on
Mulder's arm.

"Are you okay?" she asked, a tiny bit of worry to her voice.

Mulder gave her a small smile. "I'm fine, Scully. Just that cough
medicine.
I really am going to write a letter," he joked weakly.

"You sure?" Scully sounded doubtful and Mulder prayed she would pull
all that
"doctor" crap here.

"Yes."

"Ok," she replied and reached for the files she had left at her
feet. Before
Mulder could say anything else, the seat belt sign flashed on and take off
began. Mulder watched Scully grip her seat, as she did on every flight. He
gave her another smile, wishing he had enough energy to divert her
attention.
So instead he just placed his hand over hers. She looked down at his hand
and
their eyes met.

"Thanks," she whispered. Mulder opened his mouth to say "you're
welcome" but
was interrupted by a flight attendant.

<This is going to be a long flight> he thought as he closed his eyes
and
tried to push the feeling of dizziness aside.

Rutherford, NJ
10:00 p.m.

Katie was pacing back and forth in her bedroom. She had walked
around the
room so many times, she won't be surprised if she worn the rug straight
through.

DON'T WORRY. WE SET MULDER STRAIGHT AND ALL OF OUR PROBLEMS GO
AWAY.

DON'T SAY MURDER! IT WASN'T A MURDER! IT WAS AN "ACCIDENT."

IT WILL TRUST ME.

DON'T WORRY. I'LL TAKE CARE OF EVERYTHING. WE JUST SAY HOW WE
COMMUNICATE
AND I THINK MULDER WILL UNDERSTAND BY THEN.

UNDERSTAND OUR POSITION. WE TELL HIM THAT WE "SAW" MICHAEL AUSTIN
DO IT.
THAT HE IS CONNECTED IN "MY DEATH."

OF COURSE IT'S NOT, BUT I CAN'T FIND THE REAL PERSON TO BLAME IN MY
DEATH.
IF WE SAY IT WAS MICHAEL AUSTIN, WE SAVE THE CASE AND OUR BEHINDS.

A vision of the graveyard popped into Katie's mind. She suddenly
had a
_very_ bad feeling about this.

Newark, NJ
2:37 a.m.

The last thing that Mulder wanted was to be walking through an
airport at
2:30 in the morning. He had slept through the whole flight and Scully had
to
awaken him for the landing. He was miserable. Scully seemed to still be
cheerful, but she kept glancing at him every time she thought he wasn't
looking. But he was.

After another hour of picking up luggage, renting a car, and
renting a motel room (the same ones they had rented before, concidently),
Mulder was eternally grateful when he finally entered the room and popped
down
on the bed. Everything seemed to catch up with him then, and he broke into
a
long string of coughs.

Scully had entered her room, but as soon as she heard Mulder
coughing, she appeared the doorway between the two rooms, a pronounced frown
on her face. She looked for a minute than turned back into her room.

<What?...> Mulder thought as he watched Scully walk out. Maybe
she was going to leave him alone. Yes! With a small smile on his face, he
let
his head sink into the pillow, and enjoyed the quiet.

He had closed his eyes and was on his way to sleep, when he
felt
a cool hand on his forehead. <Scully> he thought sleepily and shifted onto
his side, pulling away from Scully's hand. Then he felt cold plastic in his
ear and opened his eyes to find Scully's concerned blue eyes gazing into
his.

The thermometer beeped and Scully pulled it from his ear.
She
frowned again, though it wasn't as bad as the frown she had given him in the
doorway. Mulder turned his head so that he was staring at the ceiling.

"So what's verdict, Dr. Scully? Am I hot enough for you?"
he
asked with a smile, then a grimace as he jerked his head in her direction.

"103.1," she answered, ignoring his joke. "That's up from a
few hours ago." She shook her head and sighed. "Mulder, why didn't you
tell
me you were feeling this bad?"

"Because I didn't want to dragged off to the nearest
hospital," he answered truthfully.

"Fair enough, Mulder. But I want to know when you're
feeling
sick. You're my partner. I care about you." She sat next to him on the
bed
and pushed some hair off his forehead. Mulder closed his eyes and just
concentrated on her touch. It felt so good to be touched by her. If he
wasn't feeling so shitty right now, he might have jumped her, so to speak.
God knows he wanted to. He really wanted to. But he was the sick one here,
so he just settled deeper into the pillow, Scully's hands still on his
forehead.

"I'm tired," he mumbled, knowing he was avoiding her
concerns. She did too and backed away.

"I know you are. But I want you to take something, Mulder.
We have an interview tomorrow with Katie Martin, and I don't think you want
me
leaving you here." She got up off the bed and walked to the dresser, where
she had placed her medical bag. She rummaged through it and, after ducking
into the bathroom, returned with two pills and a glass of water. Mulder had
managed to doze off in the two minutes she was gone, so she shook him gently
and placed the pills into his hand.

"I need you to take these," she said and handed him the glass
of
water.

Mulder blinked sleepily, but sat up. The room turned at
dizzying speeds for him and Scully had to steady his shoulders. He then
grimaced, swallowed both pills, and drank half the water. Scully tried to
urge him to drink more, but he refused and fell back, exhausted. She then
turned out the light and walked into her room. she thought <because for
some
reason I don't want to face Katie alone.>

Mulder's Room
Rutherford, NJ
9:45 a.m.

The light hurt his eyes.

"Mulder. Mulder, wake up, we're running late."

The situation was familiar: his partner waking him up and him
wanting nothing
more than to whack her with a pillow and go back to sleep. But there was
something different this time....

"We're running late, Mulder," Scully said again.

<Late. The Martin's. JOANNA.>

Mulder jumped up, wincing at the pain in his head. "What time is
is?"

Scully was relieved that her partner was back among the living. The
thought
of going in there alone scared her to death. "Nine forty-five. Get a move
on, partner."

He groaned loudly, realizing then that Joanna wasn't going to come
to him,
the meeting would require getting out of bed and getting dressed and
possibly
forcing a brush through his hair on his part. Slowly, he swung his legs
over
the side of the bed and sat for a moment, leaning forward, palms pressed
into
his eyes. Then, with a sudden energy he didn't really have, he jumped up,
grabbed a suit off the top of his suitcase and hurried into the bathroom to
get changed.

Scully stared at the closed bathroom door for a few seconds, then
dropped
down on Mulder's bed, careful not to wrinkle her own pants suit. She'd
woken
up around seven and had been showered and ready by seven forty five, but the
prospect of waking her exhausted partner was more than she could bear. He
looked so tired, she felt bad dragging him along, but she knew he'd kill her
if she didn't let him speak to Joanna. Speak to Joanna..... thinking it
over,
Scully realized how unrealistic speaking to "Joanna" was. How exactly were
they going to do it?

Deciding to push aside her worries on Joanna, she pushed her mind to
the task
at hand. Getting her partner in condition to interrogate, sorry, _talk to_,
Joanna.

"Mulder?" Scully stood and walked over to the bathroom. She leaned
her ear
against the door, feeling the cold, smooth paint on her cheek. "You okay in
there?"

He groaned. "Okay." There was a pause then he said, "Scully, could
you come
in here please?"

Scully opened the door and entered. She saw Mulder sitting on the
toilet,
the seat down, head in hands. Moving quickly across the small bathroom, she
dropped onto the tub's ledge and pushed aside his hands to lay her own
across
his forehead.
"Damnit Mulder, you're hot." She let out a long sigh when her
comment was
followed by no smart alec rebuke. "Okay. Okay, Mulder, if you want to talk
to Joanna we need to pump you full of drugs first."

He looked up and gave her a pathetic grin.

The Martin's Living Room
Rutherford, NJ
10:30 a.m.

Mulder sniffled for the thirtieth time that minute and Scully turned
harshly
to him.

"Could you just try to sound a _little_ sicker?? At this point they
probably
won't let us see Katie at all; they'll be worried she'll catch whatever
horrible illness you have." She felt sorry as soon as she said it, and
didn't
miss the look of hurt on his face. She knew he was trying extremely hard to
keep his head up (missing _this_ opportunity would be like.... well it
wouldn't be a good thing) and her yelling at him wasn't going to make him
feel
any better. Scully patted his hand. "I'm sorry," she said gently. "Let's
get this over with and then we'll get you back to the hotel and you can get
some sleep."

"Promises, promises," he said hoarsely. Mrs. Martin came back with
two
lemonades in hand.

"Here you go." She smiled as she gave one glass to each of the
agents.

"Thank you, Mrs. Martin," Scully said. "We're in town to check out
the
results on the piece of rope Katie found, but she also mentioned she'd like
to, uh," Scully glanced at her partner and he nodded. "She'd like to talk
to
us."

Mrs. Martin shook her head. "Yes, I know that. Very, very well."
She
laughed. "Katie hasn't talked about anything _else_ all week. She's up in
her room, she said she wants to talk to you there." Then, as if suddenly
remembering something, Mrs. Martin stood up. "Agent Scully, may I talk to
you
about something in the kitchen, please? Katie said it would be all right if
just Agent Mulder spoke with her because she knew I needed to talk to you."
Mrs. Martin realized she sounded rather idiotic but it was the most polite
way
she could think of to tell Agent Scully that Katie only wanted to speak to
her
partner and not her. _Now_ if she could only think of something to talk
about
to Agent Scully it would work!

Mulder rose slowly and Mrs. Martin saw how unsteady he was on his
feet.
"Okay, I'll go see her now..."

"Up the stairs and first door on your right," Mrs. Martin said.

"Thanks," Mulder managed a weak smile and started up the stairs.

"Agent Scully, could you come into the kitchen please so we could
talk in
private?"

The Kitchen
Rutherford, NJ
10:39 a.m.

The move to the kitchen was a stall mechanism and nothing more.
Mrs. Martin
had no _idea_ what to say to Agent Scully but she certainly didn't want to
be
rude, what with all these agents were doing to solve her daughter's murder
case.... Mrs. Martin shuddered at the thought of it. Plus, with her partner
sick, the poor woman must have so much on her mind. <And I'm sure telling
her
that my daughter doesn't want to talk to her will just make her day.>

"Agent Scully," Mrs. Martin said finally.

"Dana... please." The agent gave tired smile. "If you don't mind,
I'd like
to be on a first name basis with someone for once."

"That's fine. And its Christina. Now, I was wondering about your
partner--"

"Oh, we just call him Mulder." Dana told her. "He doesn't like his
first
name."

Christina smiled. "Okay, but what I was wondering was, how is he
doing? I
remember when you first came to visit us he was terribly sick-- he passed
out
if I remember correctly, and had to be driven to the hospital-- and it
doesn't
seem as if he's getting much better. Do you know what's the matter?"

Dana sighed. "It's as much a mystery to me as it is to you. He
hasn't been
feeling well since... soon after we started the case. Mulder is just, well,
just cursed with bad luck and he gets hurt on almost every case, but never
anything this long or persistent. He was in a hospital for a while, weeks
and
weeks ago, but nothing the doctor's tried made him better. He seems to be
feeling a little better each day but unfortunately the plane ride didn't do
him much good and he had a bad reaction to some medicine the other day so
he's
not doing too well."

Christina was shaking her head. "Poor guy, what a shame. I'm
sorry, I hope
he feels better soon."

"Yeah, well, so do I." Scully smiled. "Is that what you wanted to
talk to
me about?"

<Was it??> "Yes."

End part 10 of 11.
==============================================
Part 11 of 11.

Katie's room
Rutherford, NJ
10:39 a.m.

"Hi Katie," Agent Mulder said when he entered the room.

Katie was lying on her stomach on the floor, playing solitaire.
"Hey. Um, I
need to talk to you." She sat up and turned around to face him, while
motioning for him to take a seat on the bed. Mulder complied and she added,
"Actually, my friend needs to talk to you." <Is this gonna work?>

YES

TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH, KATIE, ME TOO

"Okay, what you need to do is concentrate really hard," Katie told
Mulder.
"You're gonna hear a voice talking to you, like it's inside your head or
something. When you want to answer back, DON'T TALK OUT LOUD. _Think_ what
you want to say. She'll hear it."

Mulder smiled a little, half-amused, half-befuddled. "Who'll hear
it?"

Katie saw him jump. "Remember what I said, just talk back to her in
your
head," she said softly.

<Who is me?> Mulder thought.

GUESS. I THINK YOU KNOW

<Well, I'm not so sure about that. Uh, wanna humor me and just tell
me? As
much as I'd like to, we don't really have time for Twenty Questions.>

C'MON. I'LL GIVE YOU THREE GUESSES. JUST TELL ME WHO YOU THINK I
AM... JUST
GUESS

<Joanna> Mulder thought.

The Kitchen
Rutherford, NJ
10:49 a.m.

Mrs. Martin had been babbling for the last ten minutes and Scully
was getting
annoyed. After she had brought up the subject of Mulder, she launched into
other subjects, including her concern for Katie. Scully keep looking for a
way out, but was finding none. She endured another ten minutes of talking,
then decided she had had it and she wanted desperately wanted to catch up
with
Mulder.

"Um, can you direct me to your bathroom?" Scully asked innocently,
hoping the
question would buy her freedom from this conversation.

Mrs. Martin seemed to think about it for a minute, almost as if she
didn't
want to tell her where the bathroom was. Finally she said, "First door at
the
top the stairs. You can't miss it."

Scully thanked her and breathed a sigh of relief as she climbed the
stairs.
Realizing she really _did_ have to make a stop in the bathroom, she found it
and closed the door. A few minutes later, she was washing her hands, when
she
could hear voices from Katie's room.

"Really?" Mulder's voice was doubtful.

"Think, don't say it!" Katie's voice sounded worried. Scully
quickly placed
the hand towel back to it's place on the sink and peered out the bathroom
door
and glanced toward Katie's room. She started to walk toward it when Mrs.
Martin blocked her path.

"Dana, how strange do you think someone can act?" Mrs. Martin asked
and
steered Scully away from Katie's room with those words.

"Depends on what you think strange is," Scully replied with a hint
of a
smile. Mrs. Martin walked down the stairs and Scully followed her out of
curiosity.

"As in the behavior of a twelve-year-old girl." At first Scully
thought this
may be a ploy to get her away from Katie's room, but she saw the serious
look
in the other woman's eyes. A look that resembled fear, but not quite.
Scully
couldn't pinpoint Christina's exact emotion but it sent a chill down her
spine. <Of course she could be afraid. She loses one daughter and the
other
seems to go nuts. Claiming to "know" Joanna.> This case was getting
stranger
and stranger. As much as Scully wanted to go up into that bedroom, she knew
she needed to ask Mrs. Martin a few more questions first.

Katie's room
10:58 a.m.

"Really?" Mulder said aloud, doubt all over his voice. His illness
shifted
to the back of his mind. He doubted that Michael Austin was responsible
for
Sarah's death, let alone Joanna's.

"Think, don't say it!" Katie said, afraid that Agent Scully would
hear him
from downstairs.

Mulder thought and glared at the walls.

AGENT MULDER, I DON'T LIE. I SAID HE WAS RESPONSIBLE, AND HE IS.
LOOK AT
THE EVIDENCE, EVEN IT POINTS TO HIM. YOU CAN'T DENY THAT.

<Evidence isn't always right. In my line of work, you pick that up
on the
first day> Mulder argued. His head still throbbed and his was certain
Joanna
was hiding something. And why wasn't Scully up here?

AGENT MULDER, HE _DID_ IT! YOU HAVE ENOUGH EVIDENCE TO BRING HIM
IN. END
THIS CASE AND MAKE YOUR PARTNER HAPPY. YOU'RE TOO SICK TO KEPT WORKING LIKE
THIS ANYWAY.

<Joanna, why did you say that?> Katie thought worriedly and glanced
at
Mulder.

<How _did_ you know I was still sick and that my partner wants to go
home>
Mulder challenged, and emitted a series of coughs.

Joanna paused long enough to let him finish. AGENT MULDER, ONE LOOK
AT YOU
AND ANYONE COULD TELL THAT YOU ARE READY TO COLLAPSE. YOUR PARTNER LOOKS
LESS
THAN THRILLED TO BE HERE. THAT ANSWER YOUR QUESTION. I _AM_ PRETTY SMART
FOR
A TWELVE-YEAR-OLD.

Katie breathed a sigh of relief, when she saw Mulder silently
digesting that
information. Katie thought all was well, but then Mulder suddenly narrowed
his eyes.

<You're not telling me something. I was twelve once too.> Mulder
winced at
that memory. His twelve year was _not_ a happy one.

Silence filled the room.

<Joanna, what do we do now?> Katie thought to the white walls.

Living Room
11:15 a.m.

"My daughter has always been strange, but never like this."
Christina Martin
handed Scully a cup of coffee and settled into the chair across from her.
She
placed her own coffee on the table next to her and seemed to play with
hands.
She seemed nervous now.

"What do you mean?" Scully asked, and glanced at the stairs.

"Katie was different. A tomboy. She was always a little unusual,
but that's
what made her unique. But now, I can catch her always watching the walls,
almost as if they could talk." Christina continued to wring her hands
together.

<As if they could talk? Joanna> Scully thought. Years of working on
the X-
Files had he thinking about a girl being able to communicate with the dead.
<Yes. After I'm through with this case, I'm going on a _long_ vacation.>

"Then one day, she trashed her sister's room. She didn't give me a
reason.
I never would have known if I hadn't caught her walking out of Sarah's
room."
At the mention of Sarah's name, Mrs. Martin's eyes took on a faraway glaze.

"Dana, it seems that I haven't just lost one daughter. It feels as
if I'm
going to lose two." Her words were soft, and had a sad quality to them.

"Maybe you should take Katie to see a counselor," Scully suggested.

Mrs. Martin shook her head. "Dana, I once caught her talking to the
walls.
She called the walls 'Joanna'."

<Joanna?> Silence feel between them.

"Maybe I should go upstairs," Scully suggested, but Mrs. Martin
shook her
head.

"Katie wanted you to stay away. She mumbled something about 'not
understanding.' I don't know what that means, but...." Mrs. Martin let her
voice fade away and Scully had an even stronger desire to run up those
stairs.

"Christina?" Scully laid a hand on her shoulder. Christina looked
up and
Scully noticed a determined look on her face.

"But, she didn't say anything about the both of us going."
Christina lifted
her head higher. "I just want my little girl back."

Scully nodded. "I know you do."

On the road
Rutherford, NJ
11:59 a.m.

Scully looked over and her partner.

His eyes flew open. "Scully, will you quit staring at me?" She
jumped. She
had thought he was asleep.

"Sorry. I was worried."
Mulder scowled. "No you weren't. You just want to know what Joanna
said."

Scully looked at the road, then at her partner, then at the road,
then back
at her partner. "Fine." She smiled a little but Mulder was not amused.
"Fine, I _do_ want to know. How could you blame me? So, what'd she say?"

"Nothing."

Scully's shoulders slumped. "_Nothing_?? You didn't talk to her?"

"No, she said something. Just nothing good." At Scully's inquiring
look he
said, "Joanna said that Michael Austin killed Sarah Martin. He was hiding
behind the piano and Joanna happened to be watching over Katie-- she said
something like 'watching over' and saw Michael Austin hiding there but she
wasn't quick enough to stop him. His fingerprints are all over.... Scully,
I
hate to say this, but I think she might be right."

"Wait a minute, here, Mulder. You just had a conversation with a
girl that's
been dead for.... _years_ and you're ready to just _go_ with the conceivable
answer that Michael Austin killed this girl?? That is _not_ like you.
C'mon,
what's up?"

Mulder took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, coughing a
little as he
did. "I don't know. I don't.... it's just something about this case.
We're
not _getting_ anywhere and, as Joanna said, Michael Austin is the only
plausible explanation. I think we need to get him in and interrogate him."
After a minute he said, "I didn't mean _we_, us. I mean _someone_, I just
don't know if I'm up to it."

Scully had pulled the car into their parking space outside their
motel room.
"Alright, I'll call Skinner and tell him that we want Michael Austin in for
questioning," she said gently. "Now let's get you inside and let me check
you
out."

Scully's Motel Room
Rutherford, NJ
12:21 p.m.

Mulder's mood seemed to be a little better after Scully had promised
to call
Skinner. Before, he had wanted to collapse into bed and sleep for a week,
but
now he had collapsed into an armchair in Scully's room so he could listen to
her conversation with Skinner. However, he'd passed out in the chair before
she'd even picked up the phone, so she guessed he wouldn't be an active
member
of the discussion.

"Hi, Kim? It's Agent Scully, can I talk to the AD please? Thanks.
Okay,
I'll hold." A few seconds later, Walter Skinner's voice came on.

"Agent Scully."

"Yes, sir, it's me."

"Do you have any news on the case?" Skinner sighed. It had been a
tedious
and frustrating case for him as well.

"Uh, yes sir, Mulder thinks we may have a break."

"Oh, good." He was relieved. "Let me talk to him then."

Scully glanced over at the chair. "I don't think that's possible
right now."

"Hm....?"

"He's sleeping. In the chair right here. I could wake him up if
you
want..."

"No, don't, I'm sure he needs it. Is he still sick?"

"He's doing a little better. I'd like to get him back to D.C.
though for
some serious rest and recuperating."

"All right, we'll see what we can do about that. So what's going on
with the
case?"

<A dead girl convinced my partner that Michael Austin killed Sarah
Martin.>
Scully thought. <Now how do I go about explaining that to my boss?>

"Well, we checked out the rope, a piece of evidence found in the
piano, with
Michael Austin's fingerprints on it. Michael Austin is a wanted criminal.
He
strangles his victims when they're alone, so it seemed strange that he was
able to kill Sarah Martin with everybody around, but we found a place where
he
could've hid behind the piano without anybody seeing him and then slipped
out
the back door. His fingerprints are _all_ over, so it's really the only
plausible explanation." Scully wondered whether it was.

"All right. Look, I'll get two agents on Michael Austin and you two
come
home. And, for God's sake Scully, do something about your partner. He's
been
sick for weeks now, and we're gonna need him well for the paperwork and
possibly court trial."

"Yes, sir."

Katie Martin's Room
Rutherford, NJ
12:30 p.m.

There was a long pause. Then, YES.

<Good.> Katie relaxed and smiled at the walls.

Scully's Motel Room
2:15 p.m.

Scully was glad she hadn't really even bothered to unpack. She had
called the
airlines and gotten tickets for the 7:30 flight back to D.C. as soon as she
had gotten off the phone with Skinner. She just wanted to get out of here
before Mulder could change his mind about the case. <What _is_ it about New
Jersey?> she thought as closed her suitcase. <Bad things happen here.>

She glanced over at Mulder, who was still asleep in the armchair.
He had
even stirred in the last hour and a half and she was getting worried. It
was
all the more important that they got home. She passed Mulder and walked
into
his room, and packed up the few things he had laying out. She carried his
bag
back into her room and stole another look at him. This time she was greeted
by a pair of hazel eyes.

"Did you call Skinner yet?" Mulder rasped, and he wondered when his
voice had
decided to take a time out.

Scully looked at him, her gaze dripping with concern "Two hours
ago, Mulder.
I told him what you said, and-"

"You told what I said?" Mulder sat up a little straighter, but
grimaced when
the slight movement of his head sent pain waves down his body.

"Well, not really. I said we had enough evidence to investigate
Michael
Austin further, and he told me to get you well. So we are going back to
D.C.,
Mulder. Case solved."

Mulder frowned. "But it's not closed, Scully."

Scully walked closer to him. "Yes it is, Mulder. Even you said
there is
just not another explanation."

Mulder shook his head. "No, Scully. Joanna's lying. Katie's
lying. We
have to prove it."

"We can't, Mulder," Scully said gently. "So we are going to catch a
7:30
flight and then as soon as we get back to D.C., I'm driving you to
Georgetown.
No questions asked. Just worry about getting better, Mulder." She offered
him a hand out of the chair and he took it, swaying slightly when he got his
feet. Scully helped him get over to the bed, which he promptly sat back
down
on.

"No, Scully. Now that I think about it, Joanna's lying. She can
communicate
with anyone. I mean it's possible she got Michael Austin to do her dirty
work, but that doesn't make any sense. Why get someone to do it for you
when
you can do a better job yourself?"

Scully laid a hand on his forehead. "Mulder, you're delirious.
Even if
anything
you are saying make any sense, we are talking about a twelve-year-old girl
here."

"Haven't you heard of a juvenile delinquent, Scully?" Mulder sighed
and
began another series of coughing.

"Yes, I have Mulder. But most of them commit crimes when they are
_alive_.
I may be able to buy a _little_, and I mean a little, into the fact Katie
claims to talk to Joanna, but Joanna, a dead twelve-year-old girl, being
able
to kill people at will? It sounds like the makings of a great science
fiction
novel."

"Yes, but don't most of the cases we investigate have the makings of
a great
science fiction novel?" Mulder commented with a smile.

Scully just shook her head and smiled back.

Scully's Motel room
3:50 p.m.

"Be careful what you wish for."

"That's a stupid saying, Karen. Wishes can't come true."

Mulder blinked and stared at the TV screen. Scully had gone to
check out of
the rooms, so he passed the time waiting for her by watching TV. This
program
had caught his eye.

"My sister says wishes can come true. But that every time they do,
something
bad happens. Like you wish you were an only child and your sister dies,
making you become an only child. Things like that."

"Oh come on! I wish my brother was dead all the time, and it never
happens."

"It could."

"Yeah, and my brother will start cleaning his room."

"It could happen."

"My brother would never clean his room."

"No, I meant the wishes!"

Mulder didn't take his eyes off the screen. He held back a cough
and thought
about the scene he just watched. <What if Katie didn't ask for Joanna to
come
along, she just did? Does all of Joanna's powers stem from the fact that
has
one kid to believe in her? Does she keep going by making one kid's wish
come
true and then destroying their lives? Maybe she tries to make another kid
happy because she never was?> Bingo. Mulder had a feeling his last thought
was right. <Joanna tried to make Katie happy and now it got out of hand.
And
Joanna doesn't know what to do. Michael Austin was just a way out, an
escape.
Something to make both of their lives better.>

Suddenly Scully came into the room.

"We're all checked out," she announced and picked up the bags off
the bed.

"Joanna did it." Scully looked confused, so he tried to explain.

"Katie did something most kids do. She jokingly wished her sister
dead.
Only Joanna made her wish come true. So now Katie has to stick by Joanna or
else someone will discover her secret. Katie changed. She needs to stop
listening to Joanna and get on with her life. I don't think this case will
find a real murderer, Scully. If we could manage to get Katie to push
Joanna
away, then maybe...." Mulder's voice drifted off exhausted. He had hardly
any strength left. He needed rest.

"Mulder, I suggest we go eat something before we head to the airport
to
wait," she said carefully, hoping she force some food into him.

"We have to tell Katie, Scully. We have to....." His eyes were
determined.
"We have to get her to say she made up the story about Michael Austin. Then
maybe she could ignore Joanna and..." He started coughing.

Scully went into the bathroom and returned with some water. She
handed it to
Mulder and he drank most of it. "Then we can go back to D.C. We have
enough
time in-between our flight. Then we go home, case closed."

Scully didn't know why, but she nodded and said, "Ok" as she took
the empty
glass from Mulder's hands.

Martin's house
4:17 p.m.

Katie stared lazily at the walls, bored. Her parents had gone
furniture
shopping, and had asked her to join them, but she declined. <Who wants to
go
furniture shopping anyway?>

Katie half-expected Joanna to answer, but knew Joanna was somewhere
else.
<Probably talking to Michael Austin> she reasoned. She could hardly believe
that Agent Mulder was leaving them alone. It was over. Joanna had gotten
away with.

Now she had a friend, a partner. But when she thought of all the
things
Joanna was capable of, it sent shivers down her spine.

She moved from her place on the couch and walked to the window. <Is
Michael
Austin going to get charged with the crimes?> Of course he is, a voice
inside
her answered. He's a killer, though. One more mark on his record won't
matter. But it did matter. At least to Katie. Before she meant Joanna she
did one thing better than her sister. She was more honest. But now, even
that was gone. <I'm not honest. Twelve years old and I'm lying like a
pro.>
She smiled a little at that, but the smile was uneasy. She liked being
honest. It was the one thing she was proud of.

<Now what am I proud of? The fact that my sister's dead and my
parents think
I've gone off the deep end?> No this wasn't working out. She wanted to get
Joanna out of her life, but knew she couldn't. Katie was a partner in
crime.
And partner stick together, or else.

The "or else" was the thing Katie was afraid of.

Outside the Martin's house
4:23 p.m.

"Let's get this over with," Scully said as she pushed the doorbell.
Mulder
stood next to her, not looking very steady on his head. But his eyes were
determined and somewhat lucid.

"If we can," he muttered to himself as the door opened.

Dallas, Texas
4:30 p.m.

MICHAEL

Michael Austin grit his teeth. "I am _not_ going crazy, I am _not_
going
crazy. I am a perfectly sane man. I am not what I was before." At this a
sob escaped him and he let his head drop to the steering wheel. He had been
driving home from the office had come again, intruding, frightening, deathly
serious for such a sweet, young voice.

MICHAEL. LISTEN TO ME

"No!" The sharp outcry echoed around the walls of the car. "What do
you
want? Why won't you leave me alone??"

I'M... I'M SORRY, the voice said resignedly. PLEASE LISTEN, JUST
FOR A
MINUTE? I'M... I'M JOANNA. I WANT TO HELP YOU BUT I NEED YOU TO HELP ME
FIRST

"I don't want your help!" he screamed. This time his wife, in the
kitchen
nearby, heard him and came running out.

"Michael, what's the matter?" She pounded on the window.

Michael opened the car door, got out and she wrapped her arms around
him.
"Nothing. It's nothing." He was trembling in her grasp. "I need to go.
I'm
going. I'm going to go upstairs for a little bit." Michael broke away and
ran into the house and upstairs where he locked himself in his room.

Katie's Room
Rutherford, NJ
4:30 p.m.

Scully was once again forced to hold small talk with Mrs. Martin
while Mulder
conducted the dirty work upstairs. Or maybe Scully's small talk was the
dirty
work. At this point, Mulder wasn't quite sure. All he knew was that his
head
was _pounding_.

"Where is she?" he asked for the millionth time.

"I don't know!" Katie insisted. "She's been gone all afternoon.
Why do you
need to talk to her, she told you everything already."

Mulder sighed. "Alright, Katie. I'm gonna have to trust you
because,
frankly, I don't _ever_ want to have to talk to Joanna again. I came to
talk
to you, I just wanted to make sure she wasn't listening in. Katie..." Katie
was staring down at her hands. "Look, I know you're fingernails are quite
interesting but could you listen to me for a minute please?"

Katie giggled a little and looked up at him. "Yeah, sure."

"Thanks." He managed a weak smile. "Now, I _know_ about you and
Joanna. Or,
I've been making an educated guess. I know she's helping you..." Now that
it
was time to actually confront Katie, Mulder was drawing a blank.

"Yeah," she said softly and he jumped. He hadn't expected her to
cooperate
at all.

"Yeah? Could you tell me what you've been doing? What _she's_ been
doing?"

Katie bit her lip. "I don't know."

"I promise I won't tell her," Mulder said gently.

"Oh. Well...." Katie was staring at the ground now, speaking
shakily and
uneasily. "That day at the... at the recital. That day, I was mad at
Sarah,
I... I said I wanted her to die. You know! Don't you have a sister you've
ever wanted to die?"

Mulder shuddered. "No, but I think I get what you're saying."

"Oh. Well, I just, I kinda wished it to myself and...."

"I know," he said softly. "Then what?"

"Well, then Joanna started talking to me. And she helped me and she
was my
friend and she was gonna make it so nobody knew I killed her--"

"You didn't kill your sister, Katie."

"Yeah. I know. So anyway, she was a good friend but sometimes she
did
things I didn't like. She..." <Oh, God, should I tell him that it was
Joanna
that made him so sick? That it was Joanna that made him stop breathing?>

"She what?" Mulder prompted.

"Oh, just mean things! And then she wants to blame it on this guy,
Michael
Austin, who she said he's her 'inspirating'. She wants to blame my sister's
death on this poor guy!"

"So he didn't really do it."

"No! I did. Or.... I mean.... I guess I did. But I didn't mean
it. You
know I didn't mean it, right?"

"Yeah. I know."

"Okay... good." Katie slumped back and let out a relieved sigh.

Michael Austin's room
Dallas, Texas
6:47 p.m.

"Honey, are you coming down for dinner? Sweetie? You've been lying
there an
awfully long time..... why don't you come down for a little bit?"

Michael lifted his head from its burial place in the pillow. "Um,
no, I
think I'm gonna skip dinner."

His wife leaned against the doorjamb. "Aren't you feeling well?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Maybe I'll be down later." He pushed his face
back in the
pillow. After a few minutes he heard the door click shut.

MICHAEL, STILL THERE?

"Shut up, I'm not talking to you. Whoever you are."

I TOLD YOU, I'M JOANNA

"I don't care! I'm not talking to you, I told you that. I'm not
listening to
you..... listening to who?? There's nobody in the room!"

SHH, DON'T TALK, JUST THINK WHAT YOU WANT TO TELL ME--

"I don't want to tell you anything! I just told you that!"

SHHHH! THINK IT. MICHAEL, YOU'RE GOING TO ENCOUNTER SOME
PROBLEMS..... SOME
PEOPLE, SOME FBI AGENTS ARE GOING TO BE COMING AFTER YOU IN THE NEXT FEW
WEEKS. BUT YOU NEED TO PROVE YOURSELF INNOCENT AND THAT'S WHAT I'M GOING TO
HELP YOU DO. I'M GOING TO HELP YOU BLAME IT ALL ON--

"Blame all of _what_? I didn't _do_ anything, remember??"

YES YOU DID! YOU'RE A WANTED MURDERER!

"I used to be," he said softly. "Not anymore though. No, not
anymore. Now
I've got Elaine..... and the kids, I've got my life straightened out. And
no
voice in my head is going to bring me back to being a wanted murderer."

I JUST WANT TO HELP. I JUST WANT TO....

Martin Household
4:37 p.m.

"Just stop?" Katie was confused.

Mulder raised a hand to his head and rubbed it. "Yeah, then this
whole thing
can get put behind you."

"But what about Joanna? And my sister? Who's going to...?" Katie's
voice
was close to tears. She was deadly afraid that she would be blamed for
Sarah's death. <But I really didn't mean it!>

Mulder shook his head. <Forgot about that....> "Don't worry, many
cases
stay unsolved. I just think your parents would be a lot happier if Joanna
left." <Not to mention it would make both Scully's and my lives a hell of a
lot easier.> His excuses where sounding lame, but he didn't now what to do.
He _knew_ who killed Sarah, but he doubted a dead person could be tried.

"But....," Katie protested, when a voice interrupted her.

KATIE, WE NEED TO TALK.......

"No!" Mulder said, a decible too loud for his head to handle. Katie
eyed him
and started to walk toward the door. She opened it and stood away from it.

"Go away, Joanna. I mean it. I don't need your help. I never
did!" Katie
was getting closer to tears each minute and Mulder really wished Scully was
up
here. His head was still pounding, and he started to feel a little unsteady
on his feet.

KATIE, YOU DON'T MEAN THAT. THINK ABOUT EVERYTHING WE HAVE DONE.
ALL THE
THINGS WE CAN ACCOMPLISH. I _MADE_ YOU INTERESTING! I BETTERED YOUR LIFE!

"No, you didn't. You made it worse. Sarah's dead and I've lost who
I was.
And I realized, I liked who I was." Katie was no longer close to tears.
She
stood up straight and looked much older than her twelve years. Mulder
blinked
to steady the dizzying circle of lights he saw. His vision cleared and he
didn't know what else to do. He was witnessing a battle between two twelve-
year-olds, but this went beyond your simple playground fight. This wasn't
some bully you could tell the teacher about. He sat down on the bed and
watched Katie, wishing he had that much conviction when he was twelve.

"And you know what! I could care less about bettering my life!"
Katie
suddenly stopped and looked thoughtful. Then her lips turned into a smile.
"I
think that you're nothing without me! I'm sorry you had a nad life, but I
don't!" Katie stopped shouting. "I've realized that wishes can come true.
But only in the worst way. Nad if that's how it works, I don't want to make
only more wishes!! Well, maybe just one." She paused. "I wish you would
get
the hell out of my life." Only silence followed her statement.

Mulder watched the scene unfold before his eyes. Then the roon
blurred a
little. He didn't know how long he sat there, but the next thing he was
aware
of was Scully tapping his shoulders.

"Mulder, we're going to miss our flight." He nodded absently and
got up,
shaky on his feet. Scully eyed him suspiously.

"I'm going to call Georgetown as soon as we get off the plane," she
announced
and for once Mulder didn't agrue.

1 week later
Georgetown Medical Center

"I'm not eating that."

"You are if you want to get out of here."

Mulder eyed the green jello again with disdain. "But it moves...,"
he
whined.

"Mulder..."

"Ok, ok, I'm eating it," he said as he dipped his spoon into it and
reluctantly swallowed some. "I really, really hate jello."

Scully laughed. "That because you've had to eat so much of it."

"Well, not any longer. The next time I'm in the hospital, it's
going to be a
nice one that's never heard of jello."

"Well, Mulder you exhausted most of the U.S. hospitals already..."
Scully
ducked and narrowly missed getting hit by a pillow.

Scully was straightening up when she heard Mulder's voice turn
serious. "You
think the Joanna's of this world are still out there?"

Scully just shrugged her shoulders. "Well, for everyone's sake, I
hope not."
Mulder nodded in agreement.

****************
Field Report, X-File 453697-3
Dana Scully, reporting field agent

No more incidents have occured at the Martin home and Katie Martin
has
withdrawn her claim that Michael Austin committed the murder. Additionally,
Mrs. and Mr. Martin have also dropped the civil suit against Mr. Austin, and
he has been released, all charges dropped. Agent Mulder's illness does not
seem to be case related, though the stress may have added to it. With no
other suspects have been investigated in the crime, I recommend that this
case, X-File 453697-3, remain open.

Somewhere in Ohio

Susan watched as her brother got congratulated over and over for the
21
points he scored in the basketball game.

She narrowed her eyes at him. <Right now, I wish he would drop
dead.>

PROBLEM SOLVED, the walls echoed..........

End of Part 11 of 11.

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