Laura Cooksey
lcooksey@mindspring.com

Based on characters copyright 1995 by Ten-Thirteen
Productions, Chris Carter and 20th Century Fox. No copyright
infringement intended.

Friends and Enemies

Fox Mulder came to lying face down on the ground, in the
dark, with the worst storm in twenty-five years roaring around
him. *Scully's never going to let me live this down*, he
thought to himself. *Another wild goose chase after UFOs,
which we didn't even see after three days, and now we're
almost drowned on our way back to the car.* He reached for the
large flashlight that he'd dropped when he fell, with a vague
memory of the deafening explosion of a lightning strike nearby
being the cause of his prone position. His hands were slick
with rain and mud.
"Scully?" he called uselessly into the noise of the
storm. "Scully!" he tried again, louder this time, and was
rewarded with a grunt. Pushing himself to his knees, he swung
the light around and saw that Scully had also been thrown to
the ground by the shock of the lightning strike. He shivered,
despite his heavy parka; he was soaked and the rain threatened
to turn into sleet before the night was out. Half-crawling, he
made his way to Scully's side. "Hey, Scully, you okay?"
"I'm pinned," she said after a moment, twisting awkwardly
to look at him from her face down position. "I can't get my
legs free." She blinked up at him in the bright light
reflected from the rain-slicked ground; he had been careful
not to shine the light right in her face. A streak of mud
crossed her cheek and nose.
Crawling a little closer to her, Mulder could see that
she'd been pinned under a huge branch, or maybe part of a tree
trunk, that had been knocked down by the storm. He swallowed
hard. "Take the light," he called over the wind and tried to
shift the wood that lay across the back of her thighs. His
feet sank into the mud a little, and the wood remained exactly
where it had been.
"Mulder, that's got to weigh several hundred pounds.
There's no way you're going to move it by hand."
"Are you hurt?"
"No," she replied. "I don't think so. Can you check for
me?"
"I thought you'd never ask," he joked nervously. Mulder
retrieved the light from her and climbed over the tree trunk.
Kneeling, he ran his hand carefully over the back of each of
her legs, then up along the outside of each thigh as far as he
could reach under the wood. He jumped back over the section of
tree, slipping in the rain-soaked pine needles and almost
loosing his balance. "Doesn't look like anything's broken or
bleeding, but I don't know how I'm gonna get you out from
under there." He fished her flashlight out of the underbrush
where it had rolled when she fell and set it near her left
hand.
She nodded, blinking in the cold rain and said, "Go back
to the car and get the shovel. You can dig me out."
"Scully! I can't leave you here!"
"Don't be stupid, Mulder. I'm cold, wet, muddy and
hungry. Just go back to the car and get the shovel and the
jack, and anything else you think might be useful. I'll be all
right."
"Can you reach your gun?" he asked.
She reached through the flap on her parka to check.
"Yeah, I've got it. Go on. Stop stalling."
Mulder stared at her in the bright light of a flash of
lightning. She was right, and he hated it. Putting his hand on
her shoulder, he yelled over the thunder, "I'll be back as
soon as I can, Scully."
She grabbed his wrist awkwardly and desperately for a
moment. "Don't get lost." For just that moment, he could see
the fear in her eyes. He tried to smile reassuringly at her,
then he headed off as quickly as he dared along the trail. He
couldn't afford to get lost or injured. Not now.
Mulder finally reached the car almost half an hour later.
It was probably dusk, he figured, although under the storm it
may as well have been midnight. He leaned against the trunk,
letting the chill metal suck all the warmth out of both hands
as he caught his breath. *You can only rest a minute,* he told
himself, panting, as his breath curled around his head in the
light reflected from his flashlight by the rear windshield.
Some instinct raised the hair on the back of his neck and
he spun around with a startled shout, grabbing up the light. A
tall man with gray and white hair raised his arm in front of
his face to protect his eyes. He was perhaps two inches
shorter than Mulder, but stockier, as near as Mulder could
tell under the man's heavy clothing. He looked to be between
forty-five and fifty and was just as wet and sorry-looking as
the FBI agent.
"You picked a bad night for hiking," the man called over
the wind.
"My partner is trapped," Mulder shouted back, pointing
into the woods. "She's pinned under a fallen tree about a mile
and half down the trail." Lightning struck somewhere nearby
and both men flinched at the peal of thunder that swallowed up
their thoughts for a moment. Mulder opened the trunk and set
his light inside it as the older man walked up beside him and
added the light of his flashlight.
"I'll help you," the stranger volunteered.
"Can you call for help?" Mulder said, dumping out most of
the contents of his backpack onto the floor of the trunk and
putting the shovel and the jack inside it.
"No, and I don't think anyone will be able to travel in
this weather, anyway. My name is Aaron," he added, repeating
it when Mulder didn't catch it the first time.
"Mulder," he shouted back to Aaron, slamming the trunk
closed and heading back down the trail. His new companion
followed him easily, which impressed Mulder, given the
difference in their ages, and Mulder's athletic nature. Their
two lights bobbed in the darkness, sometimes reflecting
blindingly on sheets of water as the storm got still fiercer
and colder.
"Scully!" Mulder yelled as soon as he thought Scully
might have a chance to hear him. He saw movement as she looked
up, raising one hand to flag him down. He skidded to a stop
beside her trying not to show how distressed he was at her
appearance. Cold though he was, he'd had the chance to keep
moving. Scully was shivering, her lips a little blue.
"Who's your friend?" she called to him with a smile.
"Aaron," Mulder said, fumbling with the car jack, placing
it under the wood next to Scully's body and inserting the
handle.
Aaron knelt in the mud next to Scully, resting his hand
on her shoulder for a moment. "Are you injured?" he asked.
Scully shook her head. "No, just trapped. And cold."
Beside her, Mulder cursed.
"I can't get any leverage," he shouted. "The jack is just
sinking in the mud. We'll have to dig you out."
"That will take too long, Mr. Mulder," Aaron replied.
"Ms. Scully needs to get to shelter now. Let's try using the
jack further out on the limb." He walked past Mulder toward
the narrow end of the piece of wood.
Mulder grabbed his arm in frustration. "The wood is flush
with the ground. There's no way to get the jack under it
there."
"I think I can lift it up enough to give you a foot of
clearance. In fact," he said, checking the situation out
carefully with his light, "I think you should put the jack
away and get ready to pull Ms. Scully free. I can lift the
tree up enough to take the weight off of her."
Mulder started to tell the man that he was crazy, but the
sober look on Aaron's face stopped him. "How?" was all he
asked.
"I'm stronger than I look," Aaron replied. He hesitated a
moment before adding, "I'll tell you what I can later."
Nodding mutely, Mulder went to stand next to Scully,
setting his light on the ground. Aaron squatted and wrapped
his arms around the narrow end of the tree. His feet dug into
the ground as he strained, lifting his end up a few inches.
Scully cried out as the wood pivoted around her hips before
the far end started to act as a fulcrum, allowing Aaron to
lift the mass of it free of her body.
"Now!" she cried to Mulder. He grabbed her indelicately
under both arms and hauled her across the ground.
"Got her!" he shouted to Aaron. With a grunt, Aaron let
the wood crash back to the ground. Another flash of lightning
illuminated the awestruck, slightly frightened faces of Mulder
and Scully as he helped her roll onto her back and sit up.
"I don't think I can walk, Mulder. My legs are too numb,"
Scully said as Aaron picked up his light and walked back to
her side. Wordlessly, the older man handed his light to Mulder
and scooped Scully up in his arms with great care.
"I have a cabin less than two miles from here," he said
as Mulder stood to face him warily. "I've got fire, water and
food. I'd suggest that we go there, rather than back to you
car."
With a single glance at Scully, Mulder nodded, not liking
this situation, not trusting this man. Aaron took his
flashlight back and set off at a pace that the younger man
could hardly match. After twenty minutes, Mulder looked up
suddenly and realized that he'd lost them. His heart sank, but
before he could cry out for Scully, Aaron reappeared.
"Do you need to rest? It isn't much further, and we need
to get inside. It's starting to turn to sleet."
"I'm okay," Mulder gasped. Aaron gave him a nod and set
out again, but a little slower this time. This situation set
Mulder's teeth on edge. Who, or what, was this man? Not for
the first time, he felt through his jacket for the reassuring
weight of his pistol.
Scully noted the black shape of the cabin as they
approached. She and Mulder could have walked within twenty
feet of it in the storm and missed it completely. It was set
into a hill, with only the front face visible from the
outside. Aaron set Scully down, holding her upright until
Mulder could steady her, before opening the door. He stepped
inside the cabin and lit a Coleman lamp, hanging it up on a
hook near the center of the room's ceiling.
Mulder helped Scully enter the small cabin. "Mulder, give
me a hand," she said quietly in the deafening silence out of
the wind. He saw her struggling with the zipper of her
waterlogged parka and immediately started to help.
"Good. You should both get out of those clothes," Aaron
said, removing his own coat, boots, shirt and sweater near the
door. "I'll get the fire going again and get some blankets."
Mulder took Aaron's advice, starting to peel Scully's
sodden clothing off. "This isn't nearly as romantic as I'd
always pictured it, Scully," Mulder said softly, catching her
eye. Shivering violently, with her teeth chattering, Scully
couldn't even defend her honor with a reply as he teased her.
He thought he saw a hint of a wry smile, though.
Aaron stuffed some wood into the large stove that was
against the north wall of the cabin, filled a large metal pail
with water and put it on the stove to heat along with a tea
kettle full of water, and pulled his low bed closer to the
stove. Mulder looked about the cabin as he undressed first
Scully, then himself, down to their underwear. It was a single
room, except for what he hoped was the bathroom in one corner.
The low bed, a lone chair and a small table were the only
furniture. His hands were starting to tremble with the cold
and he had to struggle with their soaking wet jeans, carefully
avoiding removing Scully's blue panties as he pulled her jeans
off. He bit his lip, fighting back the temptation to comment
on how much he liked that color on her.
After finally peeling off the last layer of soggy outer
clothing, Mulder lifted Scully into his arms and carried her
toward the stove, sitting down on the blanket Aaron had laid
on the floor with his back against the bed. Aaron draped a
blanket around Scully's shoulders, and another one around
Mulder and Scully both, as he sat with her in his lap. *Thank
God she isn't making a fuss about this,* Mulder thought,
holding her tightly against his chest as he began to shiver in
earnest himself.
"Ms. Scully, are you going to be well?" Aaron asked.
Scully nodded briefly. "Mr. Mulder?"
"I've been colder," Mulder admitted, not eager to say
more just yet. He contented himself with checking on Scully
and observing Aaron, who changed into dry clothing and came to
sit beside them on the floor. For some reason Mulder found
himself very aware of the fact that Aaron was between him and
his gun, which was hanging by his belt from a peg on the wall
by the door. He remembered the tremendous strength the man has
exhibited in moving the tree off of Scully.
"Do you live out here to watch the UFOs?" Mulder asked
casually.
"No. I watch the people who watch the UFOs. I'm an
anthropologist."
When Aaron didn't elaborate further, Mulder tried a
different tact. "I'm glad you happened to be out near our car
when I got there. There's no telling how long it would have
taken me to get Scully out from under that tree by myself. Did
you get caught out in the storm on your way home?"
"No. Actually, I was looking for you, Agent Mulder. I got
very worried when the storm blew in and you and Agent Scully
hadn't returned to your car."
Mulder could feel Scully tense, even through her
shivering. He held her a little tighter. "Why were you looking
for me?" Mulder asked calmly.
Aaron got up without answering and crossed the room to
stand by the door. He removed Mulder's holster from the belt
on the peg and came back to sit beside the two of them again.
He held the holster out to Mulder on his open palm, watching
with calm gray eyes as Mulder took it and set it on the floor
at his side.
Aaron smiled softly at the two FBI agents huddled
together. "I have a message for you, but now isn't the time to
worry about that. I'll hang your clothing up to dry. You two
rest and get warm, yes?"
As he stood up again, Scully cleared her throat and said,
"Thank you, Aaron. For helping us, for helping me." Aaron
smiled shyly, as if he were unused to being complemented by
beautiful women, and nodded at her once before going back to
the east wall of the cabin and stringing up a line to hang
their clothing on. While he was occupied with that, Scully
looked up at Mulder.
"How're you doing, Scully?" Mulder asked, tucking a stray
wisp of hair behind her left ear.
He teeth chattered a little as she replied, "I'm okay. I
don't think I'll lose more than a couple of toes." He stared
at her in shock and she said, "It's a joke, Mulder. I'll be
fine."
"Don't do that, Scully," he scolded her, relieved. She
smiled at him, unrepentant, and laid her head on his shoulder
again. He stroked her hair several times, then let his hand
slide on down along her shoulder and back. Scully sighed
slightly, so he did it again. This time she responded by
disentangling herself from her blanket to wrap her arms around
him, trying to get warmer. His undershirt was still damp and
he could feel clearly how cold she was through the wet
material, causing his teeth to start chattering again briefly.
He rubbed her back through the layers of blankets, trying to
get her to relax and to warm her up. His idle (and
unprofessional) thoughts about other possible ways of warming
her up were interrupted when she spoke.
"Mulder," she asked very quietly, "does Aaron make you as
nervous as he makes me?"
He nodded, watching Aaron stretching their shirts, socks
and pants over his clothesline. "But if he really wanted to
hurt or kill us, he could have done that out in the woods."
"Unless he wanted to hide the bodies," she rebutted.
"That's what I like about you, Scully, you're so cheerful
to have around. There is something about him that sets my
warning bells off, but at the same time I really believe that
he's sincere in wanting to help us."
"He doesn't seem to have been affected at all by the cold
rain, although he may not have been out in it for as long as
we were. And moving the tree!" she said.
"I know, I know." Mulder sighed softly. His instincts
were giving him mixed signals on Aaron, much as they had with
the alien clone who had claimed to be Samantha.
*Ugh -- now _there_ was a cheerful thought.* His hair
stood up on end as he continued to think about it. The
shapeshifting assassin tracking the clones had been inhumanly
strong. He glanced up at Aaron's back, watching him move,
silent and graceful as a panther. And perhaps more dangerous.
Rain pounded on the two small windows in the front wall
of the cabin, illuminated periodically by lightning. But the
small building was well insulated and it held out the wind,
growing more comfortable as the wood stove grew hotter.
Reluctantly, Mulder eased Scully out of his lap and onto the
floor to his left, on the side opposite from Aaron. He pulled
his legs up a little to get his feet further from the stove,
before they could grow uncomfortably warm.
Aaron walked back over to them, grabbing the chair as he
passed it. "Why don't you sit in this, closer to the stove,
Ms. Scully?" Mulder intercepted him, sliding out from under
his blanket and to his feet in one graceful move. He suspected
that he wasn't very intimidating in his underwear, as he took
the chair and set it down between the bed and the stove,
helping Scully to sit in it. Aaron sat down on the floor and
looked up at Mulder, who sat down again as well, after a few
seconds.
"I can't say as I blame you for being so nervous," the
older man said, "If I were freezing cold and sitting in my
undergarments in a stranger's house, I think I'd be nervous,
too." He gave the two of them a relaxed smile, and Mulder felt
a little more at ease.
"I don't suppose you have a clean rag or towel I could
use to dry my gun, do you?" Mulder asked.
Aaron got up and rummaged in a cabinet for a moment,
pulling out a slightly frayed old towel. "Here you go, Agent
Mulder. Would you like me to get Agent Scully's gun for you?"
"If you don't mind," Mulder replied, not feeling as
nonchalant as he sounded. He moved to sit on the bed and
watched Aaron cross the room, returning with Scully's pistol
and holster. With Scully's gun at his side, he took his gun
out of its holster, extracted the clip, and dried it off as
best he could before putting it back together. He hoped the
holster wasn't ruined -- the FBI-issue ones weren't very good,
so he'd bought this one out of his own pocket. Setting the two
holsters aside, he dried Scully's weapon as well. He felt
better with both guns within easy reach.
The teakettle on the stove started to whistle, and Aaron
moved it to a hotpad on the small table. "Would you like hot
tea and a meal? I've got some hiker's freeze-dried meals, and
sugar and honey for the tea."
"Yes, please, that would be very nice," Scully said. Some
color had returned to her face and her teeth had almost
stopped chattering. Aaron poured the tea first, putting honey
in Scully's and sugar in Mulder's after asking their
preferences. Scully almost hugged her mug, wrapping both hands
around it and breathing in the steam. "Heavenly," she said
softly, taking small sips.
Mulder stirred his tea slowly, staring into its depths
while Aaron mixed a bowl of something freeze-dried for each of
them to eat. He tried to put together what he knew about their
current predicament into some coherent whole, to no avail.
Scully was doing the same, watching Aaron's every move,
examining what she could see of the cabin. And watching
Mulder. She could almost hear his brain spinning as he tried
to puzzle out what Aaron wanted with them.
Mulder caught her glance finally and looked up. "What?"
he asked. "Nothing," she replied. He smiled at her. "Is the
noise in my head bothering you, Scully?"
Aaron overheard Mulder's remark and broke out into a
hearty laugh. "I'm sorry," he said after a few seconds, still
laughing. "I didn't mean to intrude upon you two."
His laugh had been so genuine and friendly that even
Mulder found himself smiling. "That's okay, Aaron."
Aaron nodded, then was struck with an idea. "Mr. Mulder,
I might have a pair of sweatpants that would fit you, and a
shirt that isn't too huge on you."
"That would be great, Aaron, thank you."
"I don't think I have anything that wouldn't dwarf you,
though, Ms. Scully."
"A spare shirt would still be nice, Aaron. And you can
call me Dana."
Aaron looked astonished, then very flattered. "Thank you,
Dana. I'll see if I can find something warm." He rummaged
through a chest of drawers, pulling out a heavy sweater for
Dana and a Henley shirt and sweats for Mulder. The sweater
hung well past Scully's hips, and the sleeves tried vainly to
swallow her hands. She wrapped a blanket around her legs and
snuggled into the chair, looking like a little kid in her
older brother's clothes. The sweatpants were a little short on
Mulder, and the Henley was quite large, but it was a big
improvement on nothing but T-shirt and boxers.
Their host put a finger into the water bucket on the
stove, seeming satisfied with the temperature. He moved the
pail to the floor next to the table and filled a basin on the
table with a ladle. Holding up a washcloth and bar of soap, he
said, "I thought you might want to wash up a little before
dinner."
Scully washed her hands and face eagerly, scrubbing off
as much mud as she could. She buried her face in the hot
washcloth for a few seconds, breathing deeply with a sigh.
Mulder waited until she had returned to her chair, where she'd
be near their pistols, before washing up himself. The hot
water felt wonderful.
They ate without much conversation, cold and hunger
overcoming social conditioning. Mulder and Aaron sat on the
bed, and if Aaron noticed that Mulder moved both pistols to
keep them well away from him, he hid it well. After they were
all finished, Aaron retrieved the bowls and refilled their tea
cups.
"Aaron," Scully said, "if you're planning to torture
Mulder to death with anticipation, you're doing a good job.
Please tell us what this is all about."

Aaron looked a little embarrassed, but did as she asked.
Pacing near the stove, he said, "This is difficult. It's a
subject I've always avoided discussing, but it's important
that you know, Mr. Mulder."
"Go on."
"Very well." He took a deep breath. "I'm aware of what
happened to your sister, Samantha, and of your encounter with
the shapeshifter." Scully saw Mulder go deathly still, his
face betraying no emotion as Aaron continued. "I've been asked
to tell you that not all visitors are your enemies. There are
those who would treat you as an expendable species, and those
that are benign or indifferent to you. But there are also
those who wish to help."
"And which type are you?" Mulder asked calmly.
"Believe it or not, Mr. Mulder, I'm almost as human as
you are."
"Almost?"
Aaron shrugged. "There have been changes made to me.
Physically and genetically, I doubt if you could tell much
difference between us without extensive testing. Emotionally
and mentally, though, well, I haven't had much exposure to
other humans. I'm just here studying."
Scully looked from one man to the other. Aaron seemed
sane, despite his crazy story. Mulder -- she couldn't tell what
he was thinking. "And why should we believe you?" she asked.
He shrugged again. "I'm not here to prove anything to
either one of you. Just to talk. Whether you believe, or
whether you don't, is not my concern."
"And that's your message?" Mulder said skeptically.
"No. My message is that we -- my people -- are small
players in the great scheme of things, but that we are not
without resources. We're trying to find your sister, Agent
Mulder. If we do, we'll be certain to let you know anything we
find out."
Mulder sat very still for a long time before answering.
"That's it? You know Samantha disappeared, you don't know
where she is, but if you hear anything you'll let me know?"
His voice trembled with anger and disappointment; he felt like
his memory of Sam was being used to manipulate him again. "The
UFO sightings -- were they just a ruse to get us out here?"
Swallowing nervously at Mulder's anger, Aaron shook his
head, saying, "No. I was planning to travel to Washington to
see you, but the sightings brought you to me first." He paused
for a moment. "We know the shapeshifters had her. We're trying
to find out if they still do."
Mulder went from angry to livid. "Shut up! How dare you?
How dare you jerk me around like this?" He was shouting as he
stood up.
Aaron's voice echoed in his head. <Please don't be angry,
Mr. Mulder. I'm telling the truth.>
Mulder gasped in shock at the emotionless, icy voice that
touched his mind. He twisted toward the bed and grabbed his
gun, knuckles going white with the force of his grip. "If you
_ever_ do that again," he said in a low voice, shaking with
fury, "I'll kill you." The pistol trembled in his hand as he
leveled it at Aaron's head.
"Mulder!" Scully gasped, watching him stand stiffly, his
face tight, betraying little of the rage within him. But even
the little she saw frightened her. "Mulder, what's going on?
Put that gun down. Look at me!" she said, grabbing his left
arm.
Aaron had gone pale, standing up slowly, his arms
extended at his sides, palms outward. His fear was obvious.
Mulder relaxed and let his arm drop, turning toward Scully. He
placed his gun in her hands, swallowing hard, looking pale and
shocky as he staggered past her to lean against the wall in
the corner of the room. He slid down to the floor and leaned
his head against his crossed arms on his knees. Scully glanced
over at Aaron, then went to kneel beside her partner.
"Mulder?" She touched his arm lightly.
"Go away, Scully. Just go away and leave me alone," he
whispered. "I'm so tired."
Scully's heart ached at the anguish in his voice, but he
was so withdrawn that she resisted the temptation to try to
force him to talk to her. She said only, "I'll be right here
if you need me, Mulder." He gave no sign that he heard her.
Aaron had retreated to the front wall of the cabin,
between the door and one of the windows. He leaned against the
wall for support, shaking with the shock of how close he'd
come to death that night. "Are you all right?" Scully asked.
"I think so. No-one's ever threatened to kill me before,"
he replied nervously, running a hand through his salt-and-
pepper hair.
"What did you do to him?" she asked. "What happened?"
Aaron considered the gun in her hand carefully before
answering. "I touched his mind. It provoked the memory of his
sister's abduction, unfortunately." The older man was
stricken, looking lost. "I only meant to bring him hope, Dana.
Yet all I've done is anger and hurt him. I'm so sorry. Will he
be well? He looks and feels very ill." At Scully's puzzled
expression, he explained, "His mind feels ill to me."
Scully gritted her teeth. This man was probably just
another barely-sane UFO-nut, and he might just have pushed
Mulder over the edge. "If you're what you say you are, prove
it to me," she snapped, losing patience.
<Very well. But only because you insisted.>
Scully's stomach tightened as Aaron's voice sounded
clearly, coldly, in her mind. "Oh my God," she whispered.
"Please don't be afraid," Aaron begged.
"I'm not," Scully said. "It's just... that wasn't a very
pleasant sensation."
"I promise not to do it again, Dana. I know that it is
uncomfortable for most of you normal humans."
Scully started to say something, but a noise from the
corner caught her attention. After a moment, she realized with
a stab of pain that Mulder was rocking back and forth with his
arms over his head. She returned to his side, first calling
his name, and then shaking him gently. Neither effort produced
a response. "Come on, Mulder, you're starting to scare me."
Aaron had followed her. "He isn't aware of you or of his
surroundings. He's withdrawn."
"You're certain?" she asked. When he nodded, she said,
"Then can you help me get him onto the bed where he'll be more
comfortable?"
Looking relieved to be able to do something constructive,
Aaron motioned for her to step aside and scooped Mulder up
into his arms as if he were a small child. Scully picked her
gun up off of the foot of the bed and turned back the blanket
so Aaron could put Mulder down. Once on the bed, Mulder rolled
over, turning his back to them, curling up on his side with
his arm over his face. Scully tucked him in gently, wondering
how he had survived for so long with so much pain.
"I'm glad you're here, Dana," Aaron said. "If I'd been
alone with him, I'm not certain what would have happened."
"Neither am I," she said. She sat down on the edge of the
bed, her hip against Mulder's back, and stroked his hair
gently, over and over. Every so often she called his name, but
he never reacted. Several hours later she realized that she
had dozed off and that Aaron was talking to her.
"Ms. Scully? Dana? I got my sleeping bag out, if you'd
like to lay down. I can watch him for a while."
She almost said no, but she was still exhausted from
their ordeal in the storm, and -- in his current condition --
she didn't think it would make much difference to Mulder if
she was there or not. Besides, if Aaron wanted to hurt them,
he'd already had plenty of opportunities. She squeezed
Mulder's shoulder once before rising, wondering darkly if he'd
ever come out of it.
*Dana! Stop that!* she chided herself angrily. *He'll be
okay. He has to be okay.* Aloud, she said only, "Thank you,
Aaron." She put both pistols in the sleeping bag with her and
watched him turn the lantern down low. He set the chair next
to the bed and sat down, folding his hands in his lap,
silently watching over Mulder.
After another hour or so, Mulder started to stir. *Sam, I
still miss you so much,* he thought, rubbing the bridge of his
nose between his fingers, wiping away a tear. A hand stroked
his hair and he sighed. *Poor Scully. I really wigged out this
time; she must be worried sick.* He rolled over slowly and was
startled half out of his wits to see Aaron sitting beside the
bed. He gasped loudly, looking around in a panic for Scully,
backing away as far as he could without falling out of the
bed.
Aaron held up both hands in a peaceful gesture. "Ms.
Scully was falling asleep, so I offered to watch you for a
while. She has both of your pistols. Would you like me to wake
her?"
Mulder pushed himself up to a sitting position and tried
to calm down. "No. Let her rest." His heart hammered in his
chest as he thought of how strong Aaron was, and of how close
he'd come to shooting the man. *I can't believe Scully went to
sleep and left him watching me. He could have twisted my head
off!*
"I'm sorry that I startled you, Agent Mulder. I didn't
realize that I was doing something inappropriate. Dana sat
with you for hours, touching you that way, and it seemed to
help you rest more easily. I'm sorry."
*Hours?* he thought, glancing at his watch; it was nearly
five in the morning. *Scully must have been exhausted.* And
Aaron looked so distressed that Mulder could hardly remain
angry or frightened. "I... it's okay, Aaron. I'm just so tired
of the nightmares. And I miss Sam so much. So much," he
repeated, feeling his throat grow tight. He looked away.
Aaron rose suddenly and began to quietly go through the
bottom drawer of the chest in the far corner of the room. He
came back with a small leather folder, clutching it in both
hands. "I'm not supposed to have this, really. And you must
promise me that you'll not show this to anyone other than
Dana."
Mulder was wary. "I don't know if I can do that."
Aaron sighed, hanging his head. "Very well. I'll take
whatever consequences come, then." He opened the folder and
extracted an old color photo, handing it to Mulder. Mulder
turned it around, then angled it toward the light, holding it
carefully by the edges.
What he saw stunned him so badly that he could hardly
stop his hands from shaking so he could look at the photo.
"Sam," he breathed. "Oh my God, it's Samantha." But not as he
remembered her. She looked like a teenager in the picture,
wearing a flower-print tank top, smiling up at the camera,
blue sky and trees in the background. "Where did you get
this?" Mulder whispered through tears.
"I'm not sure where it came from. I thought it might be
useful to convince you that I spoke the truth, but I wasn't
supposed to take it. And I'm certainly not supposed to give it
to you. But I couldn't sit here and watch you suffer," Aaron
said. He watched, fascinated, as Mulder stood and turned up
the lantern, examining the picture carefully.
"She looks like she's about fourteen or fifteen," Mulder
said to himself. Tears kept blurring his vision, and he rubbed
his eyes with one arm. "Scully!" he called, bending to shake
her awake.
"What?" she shouted, startled, as her eyes snapped open.
"It's Sam, Scully, it's Sam! Look!" He thrust the picture
into her face and she took it carefully from him.
"Take it easy, Mulder." She accepted the picture from him
and stood up, examining it for several minutes as carefully as
he had. "It looks real. You think it's your sister?"
"I _know_ it is, Scully. It's evidence that she was alive
long after she was abducted."
He sounded so excited that she could hardly bear to point
out, "That doesn't mean she's alive now, Mulder."
He sobered. "I know, Scully. But it's the only physical
evidence I've ever had that she was alive at all after her
abduction."
"You're sure it's her?"
His face twisted in anguish as he thought hard about it,
facing his own doubts about the photo. But after nearly a
minute of silence he was able to honestly say, "Yes."
Scully opened her arms to hug him and simply stood there
with him as he buried his face in her shoulder awkwardly and
wept with twenty years worth of relief. When the tears slowed
a little, she said, "You should sit down, Mulder. You aren't
very steady right now, and you're hyperventilating. Take a few
deep breaths."
He nodded wordlessly and sat back down on the bed
cradling the picture in both hands, unable to take his eyes
off of it. Aaron's eyes were wide and he whispered to Scully,
"Is he okay?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Scully realized that she'd been crying, too, and wiped at
her eyes with the sleeve of her borrowed sweater. "I'm okay,
Aaron."
"You don't believe me, do you?" he asked. "Why not? After
all you've seen in working with Agent Mulder, why do you still
not believe?"
"It's just too outrageous. What would a species capable
of interstellar travel want with earth? Any resources would be
more easily obtained in free space. It just doesn't make any
sense."
Aaron nodded, listening to her. "And the idea that a
species so much more technologically advanced than yours might
be capturing and experimenting on humans is a very frightening
one."
Scully glanced up at him and bit her lip. "Yes. Yes, that
too." He nodded at her and didn't say anything else, walking
over to the window and looking out into the darkness, watching
the last of the storm expend its fury.
The room had grown a little chilly, and Scully shivered.
"Mulder, I'm going to try to get another hour or two of sleep,
if that's okay."
"Yeah, sure," he said, distracted. He stood up, still
staring at the photo, carefully committing every detail to his
eidetic memory. "You can take the bed. I'm too excited to
sleep."
Scully gave a grateful sigh. "My back thanks you. Here,"
she said, handing him his gun. He wandered over to the table
and laid it down absentmindedly. "Mulder!" she said with a
laugh, and he finally looked at her. "What?" he asked.
"Honestly, I'm going to buy you a lanyard for that
thing," she threatened. He looked back at the table, and his
gun, and flashed her a big smile. It had been a while since
she'd seen that expression, and she smiled back, happy for
him. She tucked her gun under the pillow and burrowed into the
covers on the bed, still relishing the feeling of being warm
after being trapped outside in the rain.
She woke around eight a.m. to the whistle of the
teakettle. It was bright in the cabin, sunlight coming
indirectly through the two windows. Mulder had changed back
into his own clothes and hers were laying over the back of the
chair next to the bed.
"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Mulder called to her.
"I suppose that makes you Prince Charming?"
"That or the evil stepmother; take your pick."
She grunted and yawned. "I was going to vote for the
coachman mouse."
"Scully, that was Cinderella."
"Mulder, I'm not awake yet, okay?"
The three of them each had another mug of tea, then set
out for the FBI agents' rental car. The temperature had
hovered around freezing all night, but was warmer now, so
there were only a few patches of ice along the trail. Aaron
pointed out some features of the terrain, but otherwise they
said little on their journey. Finally, they arrived at the
car. Mulder climbed in and started it, to warm it up, then got
back out and threw his backpack in the trunk. He stood there
for a moment after closing the trunk again.
Scully watched him slowly pull the picture of Samantha
out of his pocket and stare at it, then hold it out to Aaron,
who took it reflexively. "I don't want you to get in any
trouble over this, Aaron. I don't want you to get hurt."
Aaron looked shocked, saying, "Agent Mulder, they're my
family. They wouldn't hurt me. And as for trouble -- well, it
won't be the first time my human nature has gotten the better
of them. Or of me." He handed the picture back to the younger
man with a gentle smile. "No, Agent Mulder, you keep this. You
need it more than I do."
"Mulder," he said, taking the photograph. "My friends
call me Mulder, Aaron."
It took Aaron a few seconds to figure out that Mulder was
naming him as a friend. He looked awestruck, and said, "Be
careful, Mulder. You live a dangerous life. I'm glad I got to
meet the two of you, and I hope this won't be the last time I
see you."
Scully stepped forward and hugged him. "I hope so too,
Aaron. Thank you for everything you've done for us." He hugged
her back with an expression of pure joy on his face.
Mulder stepped forward as well, then, and hugged Aaron,
but there were no words capable of expressing his gratitude.
He could only murmur an inadequate, "Thank you." Aaron held
him by both shoulders for a moment as he let go, saying, "I
understand. You're welcome." Mulder smiled and nodded.
"Good-bye," Aaron said to them both, and walked back down
the trail toward his cabin. Scully and Mulder watched him
until he disappeared from view.
When Mulder headed for the driver's side of the car,
Scully stepped in front of him. "No, you don't. I'm driving."
"What? Why?"
"Because you're way too happy to trust behind the wheel
of a car right now, Mulder. You're delirious."
He gave her a broad grin and shrugged. "You're probably
right." He went around the other side and got in, as she sat
behind the wheel and closed the door.
As they started slowly down the gravel road, he looked at
the photo again. "I appreciate you're not saying anything
discouraging about the picture, Scully. I'm sure it's hard to
resist the temptation."
"No," she said softly, "not really. In a few days you'll
be analyzing that picture yourself to see if it's a fake. If I
have any doubts, you can hear them then. For right now, you
deserve the right to believe."
"Are you going soft on me, Scully?"
"Don't push your luck, Mulder."

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Laura Cooksey - lcooksey@mindspring.com
"Oh! Oh! What I want to know
"Is: Are you kind?" - Grateful Dead
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