Only Darkness (7/8)
by Ashlea Ensro
morleyphile@yahoo.com
disclaimer in part one

CHAPTER VII: NOBODY DONE NO HARM

"She says no no no no harm will come your way
She says bring it on down, bring on the wave
She says nobody done no harm
Grace of God and raise your arms
She says, face it and it's a place to stay." -- The
Sisters Of Mercy, _Flood
II_

"Hold out your hands," Mulder said.

Not understanding until it was too late, Levi
obeyed, only to hear the snap
of one handcuff around his wrist and the other
around the steering wheel.
He cursed under his breath, and Mulder smiled
grimly.

"Wait right here."

"Do you always treat your witnesses like this?"
Levi asked.

"Only when I trust them as much as I trust you.
Stay."

"I'm not going anywhere," Levi grumbled.

Mulder slipped out of the car and walked towards
the building. It was still
intact, and that was a good sign. Like the other
women, Stella Garrison
lived alone, in an ugly tenement building in the
Bronx. No one gave him a
second glance as he made his way up the stairs,
wincing at a slippery patch
of vomit on the floor. It was a horrible place for an
old woman to live...for
anyone, really.

The hallway outside her apartment was silent. He
knocked on the door.
There was no response.

"Mrs. Garrison?" he called.

Still nothing. He felt for his gun.

Abruptly, the door swung open. He had a brief
glimpse of a young woman,
standing over a limp body that was almost certainly
that of Stella Garrison,
and even more certainly quite dead. He never had a
chance to draw before
the living woman was almost on top of him. He
caught a sketch of a face -
short cropped hair, troubled green eyes - before
something solid and heavy
hit his head, and then-

Black.

He had been too late, anyway.

***

We park across the street from the residence of
Stella Garrison. The sun is
setting, and it stands out against the sky, a dark
blot among other grey,
dilapidated forms. My eyes instantly spot the
Taurus parked in front of the
building.

"Is that Mulder's car?" I ask.

"Probably."

I squint to make out the shadowy form. "There's
someone in it."

"Mulder?"

"Too short...it's someone else. You go around the
back of the building. It
looks like we might still be in time."

She nods and disappears into the growing
darkness. I approach the front of
the apartment, stopping at the rental car.

As I expected. I am impressed that he made it this
far.

"Unlock the door, Levi."

He shakes his head.

I draw my gun. "Unlock it, or I'll unlock it for
you."

He hesitates, then reaches over to unlock it with the
hand that is not chained
to the steering wheel. I open the door, then slam
him against the seat,
pinning his free hand to the side of the car and
jamming the gun against the
underside of his chin with the other.

"If it brings you any comfort, you probably won't
suffer very much," I
whisper.

"Don't." His voice is pitiful.

"I'm very sorry. I do like you, Adam, but you
know too much."

He swallows hard. "You're touching me," he says
quietly, "You must
know."

I had not been concentrating. And he is right - the
rush of sounds and
images and feelings is instantaneous, although I am
so accustomed to it that
I barely notice. The life of this dead man is only
another burden I will carry,
his terror contributing to the pounding, searing pain
in my skull.

"I played the violin," he says, "I have a girlfriend
back in Baltimore. That's
where I'm from. You can tell, can't you? All that?"

"Yes," I reply.

"And I work for the smoker. You can tell that too."

My grip on him loosens, just a little.

"Yes," I repeat.

"And now you're not sure if you want to kill me
after all." He is pleading,
and it is pathetic, yes, but it is working.

It is the click of high heeled shoes that is the
deciding factor. "Put the gun
down, Isis."

I am struck by the authority in Scully's voice. I
always knew she had it in
her.

"I'm putting it away," I tell her. I back away from
Levi slowly, hearing him
let out an exhale of relief.

"Who is he?"

"A colleague of mine. Who I will not kill, for the
time being." I glance at
Scully, then back at Levi.

Levi shakes his trapped hand. "Can you get me out
of here?"

Before Scully can comment, I blow a hole in the
steering wheel. Levi yelps,
then tugs his hand free, muttering something under
his breath that
suspiciously sounds like, "Bitch."

"You were supposed to get the back of the
building," I say to Scully.

"I didn't trust you."

I don't have time for this. "Trust me."

"You were about to kill this man."

"It wouldn't be the first time. Look, you take him,
and go around to the
back of the building. I'll meet you at the
apartment."

This time she agrees. I wonder if she's this
stubborn with her partner.

As I walk to the front of the tenement building, I
have to keep reminding
myself of how hard this is for her. How I must
sympathize. She lost a
daughter to this same project. She has seen the
height of human cruelty, and
the experiments at Transgen Pharmaceuticals bother
even the smoking man,
to a point.

Of all the human sacrifices the organization must
make, this is the most
jarring. Innocent children, innocent women...only
a monster could be
unmoved.

Death is a merciful action to these test subjects.

To these victims.

And I realize in that moment what Falker was
trying to do.

She is not mad, nor is she contributing to some
secretive goal of some
faction of the organization. All she is doing is
trying to ensure that another
Emily Sim is not made to suffer.

That is the reason for the killings. For the cyanide.
She doesn't want to
expose us - she just wants to stop the project.

And I can understand that.

If Scully and Mulder stop her, they will be doing
the bidding of the most
sadistic men in the Consortium.

My pace quickens to a run before I reach the open
door Garrison's
apartment.

***

The first thing Scully saw as she burst through the
door was Mulder's
motionless form, lying a few feet away from the
dead body of Stella
Garrison. She swung her gun up to meet the gun of
Denise Falker.

"This is, I believe, a stand-off," Falker said. She
looked deceptively young
and fresh-faced - only her eyes reflected a core of
anguish. A quick gaze in
Levi's direction told him to remain still.

"It's over, Falker," Scully replied.

"There are others. It will never be over. You can
kill me, but you'll
accomplish nothing."

"What did you do to Mulder?"

Falker shrugged. "He'll live. I don't mean you or
he any harm. I believe
you are both in a unique position to understand my
actions."

"Drop your weapon, and explain them to me."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. You might kill me. Or
he might. I still have work
to do. I would prefer not to die."

"Work?" Scully's finger tightened on the trigger.
"Killing innocent women
and children?"

"No one is innocent, Agent Scully. Haven't you
figured that out yet?"

"You're under arrest."

"That's a death sentence and you know it. I'd
rather you killed me
yourself." Falker sighed. "I don't see how there's
any other way this can
end, now."

"Let it go, Falker."

Falker closed her eyes, then opened them slowly.
"Only darkness can defeat
the dark," she said.

Scully caught the glimpse of a movement through
the open doorway before
Falker seemed to notice.

Isis.

Relief flooded her system, though she could not
understand why. She saw
the older woman about to open her mouth, to
speak-

<To warn me...>

- but at that moment Falker swung her gun around
and a deafening shot
echoed through the tiny apartment.

And Adam Levi crumpled soundlessly to the
ground at Isis' feet.

Scully didn't have time to think - she fired twice,
would have fired again if
she had not heard the gun clatter to the ground from
Falker's hand. The
killer was dead before she hit the floor. Scully
closed her eyes, then opened
them, looking up to meet Isis' dark gaze.

Neither woman spoke. Scully went to Mulder first,
feeling for a pulse. He
groaned and stirred, blinking up at her.

"Scully?"

"What happened, Mulder?"

He looked around at the three bodies. The blood on
the floor was not a pool
- it was a lake. "Why don't you tell me?" He sat up
dizzily, leaning on
Scully for support. "Are they all dead?" he asked.

"I don't know." She looked over at Isis. The older
woman knelt on the
ground, cradling Levi's bloody body in her arms.
Scully approached
quietly, not entirely sure what she was seeing.

"You were going to kill him," she said softly,
"Why?"

She could have sworn she saw a mist in Isis' eyes.
"He was doomed from
the beginning. It doesn't help though...knowing
that..." She smoothed hair
back from the still face. "It's what we all live with,
every day." Closing her
eyes, she kissed Levi's forehead, then lowered him
back to the floor and
stood up. "It's our life, Agent Scully. I don't think
you'll ever fully
comprehend the burdens we carry."

Mulder was examining Garrison's corpse. "She
didn't get around to
removing the fetus, Scully." He directed a sharp
glance towards Isis. "We
can prove everything."

Scully put a hand on Mulder's shoulder. "Not this
time," she said, "Let
them take care of it. There will be other chances."

Reluctantly, he allowed her to lead her out of the
apartment. Isis closed the
door behind them.

Halfway down the hallway, she thought of going
back. Sensing this,
Mulder stopped.

"I want you to understand," Scully said quietly, "I
want to see them brought
to justice as much as you do. You know that.
But...I can't face what's
behind that door. Not yet."

Mulder said nothing. Finally, he forced a small
smile and lay his hand on
her arm.

"Come on, Scully," he said, "Let's go home."

End 7/8

Only Darkness (8/8)
by Ashlea Ensro
morleyphile@yahoo.com
disclaimer in part one

CHAPTER VIII: HOW THE LIGHT GETS IN

"Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in." -- Leonard Cohen,
_Anthem_

They had almost reached DC when Mulder spoke
the thought that had been
haunting him since they had left New York.

"Scully, we still have enough to nail those
bastards."

She had been staring out the window, but now she
blinked over at him, as
if startled out of a dream.

"I know this is a bad time," he added.

"No...it's..." She nodded. "You're right. There's
the forensic evidence
from Seattle, and the list of victims. We could still
reach them, Mulder.
And...we should."

"Yeah." He reached for the computer printout Isis
had given them.

It wasn't in his pocket.

He was positive he had put it in the pocket of his
trench coat, but he
searched every pocket just to be sure. No luck. It
was gone.

"Levi must have taken it. He was with me all the
way from the airport...he
had a million opportunities."

"Levi is dead."

"Then your friend Isis has it. Which is as good as
us delivering it back to
Cancerman himself."

"Cancerman?"

"Didn't she tell you?" Mulder laughed bitterly.
"That's who she picked up
her smoking habit from, it seems."

He didn't see Scully's fist collide with the
dashboard, but he might have
predicted it. "Damn!"

"Levi told me."

"Do you believe him?"

Mulder didn't answer.

"Mulder, she helped us. We would never have
solved this case without her.
She risked her *life*."

"I think the question you need to ask yourself,
Scully," His voice was even,
defeated. "Is why."

It was the last thing he said until they reached DC.

***

Scully had only been called into the principal's
office once during grade
school, for smoking in the girls' washroom. The
feeling of dread, the stern
look of disapproval and disappointment on his face
when he informed her
that he had a duty to call her parents, was enough
to dissuade her from ever
wanting to repeat the experience. She remembered
it still - the little flip-flop
of her stomach as she awaited the judgment of
another.

She had that same feeling as she and Mulder
walked into Kersh's office.

She wondered if the faint smell of smoke that clung
to the room was her
imagination, or a sign of Kersh's allegiances. She
supposed it didn't matter.
Kersh might just be a smoker, although she
doubted it.

"Sir?"

"Sit down, Agents." His voice was hard, cold, but
not accusatory.

There was an uncomfortable silence as they both
took their seats.

"I was told that the lead suspect in the bombing
case is dead," Kersh began.

"It's officially closed," Mulder replied, "We have
evidence in the labs,
however, that will prove definitively that Denise
Falker killed at least one of
those women."

Scully was taken aback at the sight of an
expression that deceptively
resembled astonishment cross Kersh's face. "You
haven't heard?"

"With all due respect sir, we have been pursuing a
case-" Scully started.

"Heard what?" Mulder said at the same time.

"There was a fire at the lab. Whatever evidence you
had there is not there
any longer."

Scully felt something jump and twist inside of her,
a spell of dizziness that
left her clinging to the arms of her chair.
Remembering her own words the
previous day, she whispered, "McAlpine.."

Kersh stared at her. "The fire happened at four o'
clock this morning," he
said, "There was no one in the lab at the time."

Scully gave a weak smile. The thought that another
innocent had died for
their quest would have been one blow more than
she could handle.

"Is there anything else, sir?" she asked.

Kersh took a deep breath before speaking again.
"Yes," he said.

Mulder nodded for him to continue.

"Good work, Agents," he said, as if every word
pained him more greatly
than either of them would ever know.

It was only when they were outside the office and
well out of hearing
distance did they look at each other and burst into
laughter.

***

It was under her door when she returned home, a
plain paper envelope.
Raising an eyebrow, Scully closed the door, locked
it, and carefully tore the
envelope open.

Two pieces of paper fell out.

The first she recognized instantly. It was the
computer printout, the list of
the names of women involved in the project. It was
splattered with blood -
Levi's, she realized with a start - and there was a
ragged hole in the middle,
through the names of the last victims.

She folded it carefully. It was the last piece of
evidence they had. In itself,
not enough to expose the Consortium, but perhaps
one day...

She lifted the other piece of paper to the light.

Agent Scully,

I hope this letter finds you well. It is an unfortunate
situation when the
spoils of war disappear from under your feet. I
assume, however, that you
will make the best of it.

As you might have guessed, our mutual friends do
not look fondly on the
events of the past few days. As a result, you and I
may not be able to meet
for awhile. Perhaps when we do, we might
converse further regarding the
significance of what has recently taken place.

Until then, take care,

I.

Scully considered crumpling it up, then decided
against it. Maybe it too
might be useful one day.

She slipped both papers back into the envelope.

***

I seem to always come back here, one way or
another.

He was expecting me, I think, a thought that is
confirmed when he draws
me into his arms and covers my lips with his own.
It has been a long time -
too long. There is much he wants to tell me - and
much he would prefer to
*not* tell me, but I receive it all, regardless.

Letting go, he lights a cigarette. "Are you trying to
quit?" he asks, bemused.

"Life is short," I reply.

"So I've been told." A pause. "Levi is dead." It is
not a question.

"Was he really working for you?"

He nods.

"Why?" He refuses to respond. "You had me
followed. Do you not trust
me?"

"I don't trust anyone." His voice is light, its
smoothness masking a darker
purpose. "You know your value, I'm sure."

I reach for his hand, but he pulls away before I can
touch him.

"You know my secrets, Isis. More than anyone
else has ever known. The
very fact that I still allow you to live is proof of my
trust." He falls silent,
stands, approaches me. And for a moment his
impassive mask cracks.
Beneath it he is worried. Vulnerable. "I've seen it
happen to others...others
like you. Every secret you know is a burden. And
it's killing you." His
hand closes around my shoulder, pulling me
towards him. "I'm right, aren't
I?"

"Yes."

The inward wince of grief, of guilt, is unfamiliar. It
is not something to
which I am accustomed, not from him. We collapse
at the same time into the
softness of the unmade bed, lie staring at each
other. His arm is draped over
me, but he is at a distance, still unable to surrender
completely, to let me
know everything.

Weakness does not become him.

When he speaks again, his voice is hoarse. "How
long?"

I shake my head. "I don't know."

He seems uncomfortable with the idea. "I...I can't
stay. I can't be with
you...be there for you."

"I don't expect it."

He takes a final drag of his cigarette before putting
it out. "As long as you
understand."

"I understand," I tell him. More silence. "We've
played right into their
hands."

"The Falker case."

"She was trying to stop it. Scully killed her...and
we gave your colleague
exactly what he wanted."

A shrug. "It works in our favour as well. You
don't want to be on his bad
side."

"It's wrong."

His hand brushes my cheek. "I know," he says, "I
know, but it's
necessary. For now." Sharp blue eyes hold my
gaze still. "Let it drop."

I acquiesce. This time he is less cautious, folding
me into his arms,
cocooning me in a tangle of sheets and limbs.

It is strange that a man of secrets would find
comfort in the one woman
from whom secrets cannot be kept.

Strange, but appropriate, somehow.

"Isis?" A soft plea. I slip my hand into his.
"For...whatever time you have
left...I can make no promises, but..."

"You don't have to say it," I reply, "I already
know."

He shakes his head. "How do you live with it?"

I lean over to kiss him. "Because it's the only
alternative to dying."

A faint smile. I close my eyes and settle into his
arms.

It is not perfect - it has never been - but it is only
another night.

"Then let's not waste any more time talking about
it," he says.

And tonight, that is enough.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Why does Isis hate Mulder so much?

Will CSM save her before it's too late?

Will the airing of "Two Fathers" completely screw
up Ashlea's carefully
plotted backstory?

Find out in "Lady Midnight". More answers than
Full Disclosure...coming
soon!