Date: Thu, 19 Jun 1997
From: smythja@aston.ac.uk

Subject: "Relation" by Danielle Culverson

This is a fiction story based on the characters created by Chris
Carter. No infringement of copyrights held by 10/13 Productions,
Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox Broadcasting is intended. All
unrecognised characters and plot-lines belong to me. Names,
characters, and places exist solely within my imagination, or are used
fictitiously. No connection to any person, living or dead, is
intended, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental. Feel free to
distribute, but please keep me as the author.

Rating - 12.

Classification - X, A.

Summary - Mulder joins a murder hunt after receiving a letter from the
murderer left at a crime scene.

No spoilers.

Danielle Culverson.

Relation. 1/3.

A man in a long grey overcoat walked briskly across an open space
in the centre of an abandoned warehouse. His coat blew out a
little behind him as he walked, and his dark coat and hair made
him appear to be just another shadow in the desolate place. His
breath made clouds in front of his face in the cold evening air.
He slowed as he reached the centre of the space, and his hazel
eyes scanned the shadows around him, searching.

A shadow separated itself from the rest.

"Agent Mulder."

The man in the grey overcoat gave a slight nod, but made no
attempt to move towards the vague figure who had appeared from
behind a stack of crates.

"I have some information for you." the new arrival continued,
not stepping forward either, "Something about your sister."

Now Fox Mulder took a step, and then forced himself to stop. The
shadow man simultaneously took a step back, and glanced around
himself.

"I don't want to be here, Agent Mulder." he said pointedly.

"Then why are you helping me?" Mulder asked.

"I have my orders." the man answered, "I have to choose whether
or not I follow them, as do you, Agent Mulder. - My advice to you
is to either follow this quickly, or not at all. It won't be
there long."

The man faded back into the shadows again, and a moment later
Mulder heard quick footsteps moving away. They echoed all around
him, and he couldn't tell which way they were going. Even if he
had been able to tell, he wouldn't have followed them.

He moved quickly to the crate the man had been standing near, and
looked inside. There was a manilla folder. Mulder picked it up,
and opened it. Inside was a photograph, and a field report.
Mulder's eyes widened as he took in the information in front of
him, and committed it to his photographic memory.

* * *

Special Agent Dana Scully stepped out of the elevator into the
basement of the J. Edgar Hoover Building. She hurried quickly
along the corridor to the only regularly used room in the
basement, - the office she shared with her partner.

Opening the office door, Scully stepped inside and smiled to see
her partner already sitting at his desk. He looked up from the
report he was working on as she closed the door, and smiled at
her.

"Morning, Mulder." she greeted him.

"Morning, Scully." he responded, before returning to his work.

Scully slipped off her brown overcoat, and hung it on the
coat-stand at the side of the door next to her partner's longer
grey one. Then she moved over to her desk, and put her briefcase
down at the side of it. She sat down gratefully in the fake
leather swivel chair behind the desk, and took a deep breath.

Mulder glanced over at his partner.

"You okay, Scully?" he asked her in mild concern.

"Fine." she replied. Standard Scully-answer. Mulder nodded,
and returned to his work. - For once, she was probably being
truthful.

Scully raised one slender hand to tuck a stray lock of auburn
hair behind her left ear, before turning her attention to the
work which lay on her desk. Unlike her partner's desk adjacent
to it, her desk was fairly neat and clean. Mulder's desk looked
like a disorganised war zone. Scraps of paper and old files were
strewn across it. Two empty polystyrene coffee cups were stacked
one in the other, and stood on top of the pile of work waiting to
be done. The phone was lost beneath some of the more recent
documents, and surrounded by loose sunflower seeds, the husks of
which littered the floor around the male agent's feet.

Scully shook her head slightly, constantly amazed that her
partner could function at all in such a mess. - But she knew from
experience that if she moved anything he would know, and wonder
where it was. - It was best to leave things as they were, however
unpleasant that prospect.

Scully lifted one hand to take the top piece of work from her
"In" tray, and found a couple of internal and external letters
had been left for her. Rifling through them, she discovered one
of them was directed to her partner.

"Mulder, letter here for you." she announced, and tossed it
towards him. He caught it, hardly needing to look up from what
he was doing. He finished the piece of the report he was working
on, signed it, tossed it into his "Out" tray, and then leaned
back in his chair to open the letter.

It contained a piece of paper, and two photographs. Mulder
looked at the upper photograph, and saw the image of a dark
haired young girl. She was about eight or nine years old, and
had her hair in pigtails. She was smiling happily as she played
on a swing, and something about the picture made Mulder glance
towards the image of his sister which stood in a frame on his
desk. His sister too wore pigtails in her picture, and was on a
climbing frame.

Mulder shook his head to clear the association, and unfolded the
paper before he looked at the second photograph.

"Agent Mulder, I have the little girl with me. If you don't stop
looking for your sister, I'm going to kill her."

Mulder frowned. - Was this some sort of sick joke? - He had no
idea where the note had come from. It seemed very blunt in its
declaration, and there was nothing to authenticate its
suggestion. He lifted the first photograph from the surface of
the second, and sucked his breath in sharply, - the second image,
when associated with the first, held an unnamed and unpleasant
threat.

Mulder quickly put the two photographs and the note in his desk
drawer. He returned to his report, but could no longer
concentrate on his work. A few minutes later Scully got to her
feet. She said something about having to go to do an autopsy,
but Mulder hardly heard her. As soon as she was out of the room,
he pushed aside the papers on his desk, and picked up the phone.

"Alan? Can you run a check for me?... Yes, I need to know if a
girl's been reported missing recently, approximate age eight,
long dark hair, large dark eyes, oval face, height... about four
foot two, slender... Yes, can you get back to me?... Sure."

Mulder hung up, and stared vacantly at the phone for several
minutes without seeing it. He looked around his desk for
something to do, but couldn't concentrate even on his search.
After a few minutes the phone rang. He snatched it up eagerly.

"Mulder... Hi, Alan... You haven't? Okay, thanks... No, it
was nothing important. Thanks."

Mulder hung up, and sat thinking for several minutes. His
information was vague, but had come to nothing even so, and he
was fairly confident to dismiss it. Finally he made up his mind,
shook his head to clear the unpleasant thoughts, and opened the
second desk drawer to take out the manilla folder his contact had
given him. - He had other work to do.

* * *

Mulder jogged up the metal steps to the upper level of the
warehouse. He paused when he reached the level, and looked
around him as he stepped off the stairs which continued on up
towards the ceiling of the derelict building.

Glancing along the wall, he could see what looked like a row of
wardrobes lined up. They weren't wardrobes, however. Each had a
combination magnetic lock on the door. He knew the code to only
one of them.

Mulder moved quickly along the line of doors to the third one,
murmuring under his breath as he had done the last time he had
visited this desolate and morbid place, "I'll take door number
one please, Monty."

Mulder tapped the number into the door's combination lock, and
was surprised to see it light up with the correct entry. - He had
suspected that the combination would have been changed after his
last visit. - He stepped inside, and moved along the dark
corridor within to the light switch on the wall part way down. He
switched it on, and illuminated the whole corridor.

"Lots and lots of files, Scully." he murmured, again to himself.
He stared down the seemingly never-ending filing-cabinet filled
corridor which ran back into the mountain behind the mining
company headquarters. He had been here once with his partner
looking for information about alien experimentation by the
government. Now he had returned without his partner's knowledge,
looking for something which was much closer to home.

Mulder hurried along the corridor, past the newer files, and
going towards the older ones. Reaching the area he wanted, he
started pulling drawers open, looking for the right year.

"Sixty-five." he murmured, and moved a couple of cabinets down.
"Mulberry, Muldan, Mulddan, Muldder, Mulden, Muldew...?"

Mulder frowned, and went through the files again. But he wasn't
mistaken. The file was gone. - His sister's file was gone.

Mulder's cell phone rang, sounding terribly loud in the silence
and stillness of the mountain vault. He pulled it from his suit
pocket as he continued to stare in disbelief at the open drawer
of the filing cabinet. Belatedly he realised as he put the phone
to his ear, that the mountain surrounding him would effectively
cut off his reception. All he could hear in the phone was hiss.

There was obviously nothing for him in the vault, so he turned
and walked back the way he had come, emerging again from the door
at the end of the corridor. His cell phone sprang back into
life.

"... hear me? Agent Mulder? This is Deputy Calvin McAllister,
can you hear me?"

"I hear you." Mulder answered, his tone giving away the
discouragement he was feeling, "Who are you?"

"My name is Deputy Calvin McAllister. I'm with the Virginia
State Police. - We've had a murder here, and it appears that
you're connected to it. - I, um, got your number from FBI
headquarters..."

"Yes, okay. - So what do I have to do with this murder you've
got?" Mulder asked testily, irritated by the sound of the man's
excited agitation.

"Um... I think you'd better come over here and take a look for
yourself. The Chief doesn't want this discussed over the phone."
Mulder sighed, and McAllister must have heard it because he
quickly went on to apologise, "I don't want to drag you all the
way over here from Washington, Agent Mulder, but the Chief really
thinks you should take a look at this."

Mulder sighed softly again, and shook his head, although the
young-sounding McAllister obviously couldn't see his gesture.
"Actually I'm in West Virginia already. - Where abouts are you?"

"Edgington, just outside of Richwood." McAllister replied.
Mulder nodded.

"Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can."

He disconnected, and returned his phone to his suit pocket.
Sighing heavily once again with discouragement, he turned towards
the stairs to head back to his car, and set off for Edgington.

* * *

Mulder switched off the engine of his car, and got out. The
warehouse he had been directed to was fairly unmissable when he
had arrived. Police cars and four wheel drives surrounded it.
Police officers stood around comparing notes and watching what
was going on. A police line had been set up around the front of
the warehouse, and a couple of officers stood on duty behind it.
Mulder approached one of these, and showed his FBI ID, whereupon
he was allowed to pass, and directed into the warehouse.

Inside Mulder paused for a moment to let his eyes readjust to the
light. It had been bright outside, and the interior of the
warehouse was dim. As his eyes refocused, he took in a group of
men working in an area on the far side of the building. - That
seemed to be where all the activity was concentrated. - The rest
of the warehouse was empty.

A man approached Mulder, and a glance at the badge he wore told
the agent he was the chief of police.

"Agent Mulder?" the man asked. Mulder nodded, his eyes moving
from the huddle at the far side of the room to the man in front
of him. "I'm Chief Bekkins. - Thank you for coming."

Mulder nodded, and started to move across the warehouse towards
the group. "I'm still not sure *why* I've been requested?" he
said.

"Well, we discovered something rather strange when we found the
body." Chief Bekkins replied. They arrived at the group as he
spoke, and two of the forensics team moved away just as they did.
Through the gap Mulder clearly saw the figure lying on the floor.
- It was the young girl from the photograph he had been sent two
days earlier. - His eyes widened, and he sucked his breath in
sharply when he made the connection. Vaguely, he was aware of
Chief Bekkins continuing.

"We found this note, addressed to you, at the side of the body."

Mulder stood staring down at the young girl for a long time
before shaking himself from his stupor and turning towards the
police chief, "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said we found this note by her body." Bekkins held out an
envelope, and Mulder took it slowly. It looked exactly the same
as the one he had received two days earlier. Turning away a
little, he opened it up.

Again the envelope contained two photographs and a short note.
The first photograph showed a pretty blond-haired ten year-old,
and note again held a threat.

"Agent Mulder, I have this little girl now, and if you try to
follow me I can guarantee she'll end up like the first."

Mulder unwillingly turned to the second photograph, a terrible
knowledge in his gut. One glance at the photograph confirmed his
fears, and he shoved all three items back into the envelope. He
turned back to Chief Bekkins.

"How did she die?" he asked shortly.

"Strangled."

"What's her name?"

"Kay Philston." the chief answered. He frowned in mind concern.
"What's all this about, Agent Mulder? What does it mean?" He
waved his hand towards the note.

"It means I shall be staying around to investigate this case."
Mulder said determinedly, a hint of anger in his voice. Then he
turned, and walked quickly out of the warehouse again.

* * *

Mulder stepped out of his car and looked up at the Philston
house. The image of nine-year old Kay was circling around and
around in his head, along with that of the unidentified girl in
the new photograph he had just received. It looked as though his
decision to dismiss the letters as hoaxes had been a mistake, but
why the person who had killed Kay Philston should have any
connection to him or his sister, Mulder didn't know.

He did know that he wasn't going to stop either of his
investigations because of an anonymous threat. - He had every
intention of finding whoever had killed Kay Philston, and
bringing that person to justice. Besides, they may well have
information on his sister.

Pushing his personal motives aside, Mulder concentrated on the
current case as he approached the front door of the house. His
left hand stole down to the pocket of his suit where a polaroid
photograph of the dead girl was lying. Reaching the door, he
rang the bell, and took a deep breath. It wasn't often he had to
give bad news, as usually by the time he arrived at a case scene
the crime was already hours if not days after discovery.

He hoped that he would never have to do it again.

The door opened, and a woman in her mid thirties opened it. She
was maybe a year or so older than Mulder, but her expression
hardly showed it. He, however, was looking older than his years
after what he had just found out.

"Mrs Philston?" he asked, and held up his ID, "I'm Special
Agent Fox Mulder with the FBI. Can I come in?"

"It is about Kay?" the woman asked hopefully, "Have the police
asked the FBI to help with the search?" She stepped aside as she
spoke, allowing Mulder to enter the house. He moved through into
what appeared to be the main room, and she followed him in, her
expression now turning to one of concern. "What is it?" she
pleaded, "Have they found something?"

"I'm afraid so, Mrs Philston." Mulder said slowly. The woman
watched his face for a long moment, trying in vain to read his
expression. Then he met her eyes, and the expression in their
orbs was transparent to her. One hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh God, she's not..." She couldn't finish.

"I'm afraid the police have found the body of a young girl in a
warehouse five miles from here." Mulder said gently in a low
voice, "They think it might be your daughter." Reaching into
his pocket, he took out the polaroid photograph, and handed it to
the woman. She took it with a shaking hand while the other
continued to hover uncertainly near her mouth.

Her eyes widened in horror when she saw the picture, and she gave
a short gasp, before sitting suddenly on the sofa behind her. She
continued to stare at the picture. Mulder didn't need to ask her
if she recognised the dead girl.

End of part 1.

I'd appreciate any comments or constructive criticism from fellow
X-philes. Email me on <smythja@aston.ac.uk>.

Danielle Culverson.

This is a fiction story based on the characters created by Chris
Carter. No infringement of copyrights held by 10/13 Productions,
Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox Broadcasting is intended.
All unrecognised characters and plot-lines belong to me. Names,
characters, and places exist solely within my imagination, or are
used fictitiously. No connection to any person, living or dead, is
intended, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental. Feel free
to distribute, but please keep me as the author.

Danielle Culverson.

Relation
2/3.

* * *

Mulder pushed open one of the double doors which led into the
Richwood Hospital Morgue. The door swished closed behind him,
and he glanced around the apparently empty room before crossing
to the autopsy bay in the centre of the room. Only the figure's
feet protruded from the sheet which covered the body lying there,
but Mulder didn't even have to look at the toe tag to know it was
Kay Philston.

The sight of such a small body in the autopsy bay was unnerving.

Mechanically, Mulder checked the tag anyway, and then turned
around sharply when he had footsteps behind him.

"Dr. Harper?" he asked, spying a man in his early fifties in a
green overall. The man nodded. "I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder,
with the FBI. I'm investigating the case surrounding Kay
Philston's death. - Could you tell me anything of your findings?"

The doctor blinked, and stepped forward towards the agent. "Um,
sure. - I just finished working on her. - I'd say she was killed
about five or six hours before she was found, - sometime
mid-morning."

"Was strangulation the cause of death?" Mulder asked. The
doctor nodded.

"Yes."

"No other wounds or injuries?"

"No."

"Sexual assault?"

"No."

Mulder nodded, his eyes drifting again towards the young girl.
"Did she have any metal objects in her body? Small cylindrical
devices, or computer chips, particularly in the gums and sinus
cavities?"

"No." the doctor sounded puzzled at Mulder's questions, but that
didn't deter the agent.

"I'd like a full toxicological and biochemical assay, and a
complete genetic work-up." he said brusquely, one hand resting
on the side of the autopsy bay as he spoke.

"I've already done the standard toxicological screening." the
doctor replied, "The results will be back tomorrow. - I hardly
think it's necessary to carry out biochemical or genetic tests in
a situation like this."

"It might be relevant to the case." Mulder said shortly.

"What good is it going to do?" the doctor persisted.

"It'll put my mind at rest over whether this is likely to happen
to anybody else." Mulder snapped, "Besides, she's dead. - What
harm can it do to find out everything we can about what happened
to her? Run the tests."

With that Mulder turned away from the bay, and crossed the morgue
in long strides. The door swished closed behind him, leaving the
doctor standing looking rather bemused and a little surprised by
the agent's requests.

* * *

Mulder shivered as he walked along a woodland track between lines
of police tape. He had received a call mid-morning to tell him
that another young girl had been found in the woods, apparently
the victim of the same killer as Kay Philston had been.

He didn't like to think what else might have been found with her.

Emerging into a clearing created by the number of police officers
who had been moving around the body since its discovery, Mulder
moved quickly over to the centre of everyone's attention, and saw
that the pretty blond-haired ten year old was indeed the girl
from the photograph he had received at the last crime scene.

"Her name's Jilly Thomas." a voice spoke behind Mulder, and he
turned to see Chief Bekkins standing behind him. "She went
missing just before we found Kay Philston." He reached into his
pocket, and pulled out what Mulder had been dreading ever since
he had been given the news that a second body had been found, -
another letter. "This was waiting for you."

Mulder took the letter, and opened it. Inside he saw the usual
two photos, different again from the ones he had seen in the
previous letters, and a note. The first photo was of another
dark-haired girl. The note made what was becoming a familiar
threat.

"I've got her now. It's time you learned that I'm telling you
the truth, because if you don't leave this alone, there'll be
another death on your conscience."

Mulder slowly let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been
holding. Chief Bekkins was looking at him curiously.

"Would you like to tell me what connection you have to all of
this?" he asked.

"I don't know." Mulder replied, his thoughts still on the note
as he pushed it into his jacket pocket.

"Well whoever is killing these girls seems to know." Bekkins
persisted.

"Well I don't!" Mulder snapped, and turned to walk quickly away
from the body.

As he walked back down the track towards the lay-by where he had
left his car, tortured thoughts ran through his head. - The note
said the deaths were his fault, and although he knew that wasn't
true, he couldn't help but wonder if his continuing
investigations into his sister's disappearance and the murder of
Kay Philston had somehow precipitated the murders.

Ancient guilt pressed heavily on his shoulders, making him weary.
He reached his car and got in, slumping down heavily on the seat,
and sitting for a long time just staring unseeingly in front of
him. He wanted to pursue the case. He wanted to know what
connection the killer had to his sister.

But he didn't want any more guilt for the deaths that were
occurring.

Could he reasonably sit by and let the killer continue, then
claim that further deaths weren't his fault? It was just as much
his responsibility if he did nothing as if he did something.

Mulder dragged himself from his stasis, and switched on the car
engine. He wanted to head back to his motel before getting on
with the investigation.

* * *

Scully pulled up outside Edgington police station, and switched
off her car engine. Getting out of the car, she ran one hand
over her hair to make sure she looked presentable, before turning
to go into the building.

Scully was tired after driving the 250 miles out to Edgington,
but she was also eager to help Mulder finish up whatever had
detained him in West Virginia so that they could both get back to
Washington.

Pushing the door open, Scully approached the main desk in the
police station. A young female officer was working there, and
she looked up when Scully came up to her.

"Hi, I'm Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI. - My partner is
down here working on a case, and I thought I'd come down and help
him clear it up."

The young woman nodded, and picked up a phone on her desk.
Dialing internally, she spoke quickly into the phone.

"Chief, there's an Agent Scully here to see you." She looked up
at Scully. "He'll be right with you."

"Thank you." Scully nodded. A moment later the police chief
appeared from an office further back in the station. He
approached her quickly.

"Agent Scully?" She nodded. "What can I do for you?"

"I believe my partner is working on a murder case here." Scully
replied, "I've come to help him clear things up."

"Oh, right." Bekkins sounded a little uncertain, but Scully paid
no attention.

"Can you tell me how Agent Mulder got involved with this case?"
she asked, "I've only received basic information about the case
itself."

"Well, er, you see we found a note with the first girl's body
addressed to Agent Mulder. - My deputy called FBI headquarters to
get his number, and then we called him."

"What was in the note?" Scully asked.

"I don't know. - He didn't show me. - But we found a similar one
with the second body as well."

Scully frowned. - This suggested that Mulder was somehow
intricately involved with what was going on. Why would the
murderer link his crimes to Mulder? She couldn't come up with a
satisfactory response, but she knew her partner, and knew that he
was probably in the middle of a huge guilt trip if he thought he
had anything to do with the deaths.

Nodding to Chief Bekkins, she glanced at her watch. "I'm going
to go to Mulder's motel and meet up with him, find out what's
going on." she said. Bekkins nodded as she turned away, and
watched her walk quickly out of the building. In a moment she
was gone.

* * *

Scully got up from the chair she was sitting in, and walked over
to the window of Mulder's motel room. It must have been the
twentieth time since her arrival that she had done it.

She had persuaded the motel manager to let her into Mulder's room
so that she could wait for him there, as well as booking herself
a room. - She would have preferred to wait in her own rather than
Mulder's, as her partner's usual messy habits had prevailed over
the small room, but her room was on the other side of the lot,
and she didn't have a good enough view from there to see when her
partner got back.

Turning away from the window again, Scully moved to sit down on
Mulder's unmade bed. It was starting to grow dark outside, and
she couldn't understand why her partner was so late in returning.
She didn't even know where he had gone. After waiting for a
couple of hours she had called the police station to ask if
anyone there had seen her partner, but Mulder hadn't been seen
since he left the scene of the second murder the previous day.

Scully's right hand edged towards her gun as car headlights
washed across the front of the room. The car pulled in, stopped,
and a couple got out and headed for another room. Scully forced
herself to relax, recognising her underlying nervousness in her
unconsciouss reflex of reaching for her gun.

So she reached instead for her phone. - It was time that she gave
up waiting and started more properly searching for her partner.
The worst thing that could happen was that he would walk in half
way through and she would be left feeling foolish. She turned
the phone on, and quickly dialed the number of the police station
again.

* * *

An hour later saw Scully with a search party of police officers
slowly searching the woods outside Edgington. By common
agreement it seemed to be the most likely place Mulder could have
gone and for some reason not been able to return. - Possibly he
had fallen and hurt himself.

Scully kept telling herself that, but knew that her partner had a
penchant for getting into much more serious trouble than a
twisted ankle.

The party used flashlights as darkness was now almost complete,
and anyway it was dark under the trees. The wood was filled with
people calling to each other. Scully rested her hand on her gun
as she moved through the underbrush, barely aware of her action.

Suddenly there was a shout from her right,

"Agent Scully! Over here!"

Scully turned from her planned course and hurried over to the
young policeman who was squatting on the ground. By the light of
his flashlight, she saw her partner lying face down on the
ground.

Dropping to her knees, Scully checked his pulse and breathing
before looking around to see what could have caused his apparent
unconsciousness. She quickly spied a root which broke the
surface of the ground just beyond Mulder's right foot. - He had
obviously tripped over it.

After quickly checking Mulder over for other injuries, she nodded
to another two police officers who had brought a stretcher to
carry him away on. As she helped them to lift Mulder's inert
body onto the stretcher, another voice called for her attention.
This one did sound so jubilant.

"Agent Scully."

Scully moved away from the stretcher as the two police officers
bore their burden back to the waiting vehicles by the road. She
pushed through the brush to where the officer who had called her
was standing, about fifty metres from where Mulder had been
lying.

His flashlight illuminated the body of a young girl, about ten
years old, with dark hair. As Scully knelt down beside the small
figure she saw swollen marks on the girls neck. Her eyes were
fixed open, bloodshot, and staring. When Scully touched her
skin, the girl was almost cold. The agent shivered, looked up at
the police officer, and shook her head. Bekkins arrived to join
them.

"That's three." he said glumly, then turned to Scully and added,
"and every one connected to your partner."

Scully looked up at him sharply, before realising he was right.

* * *

Scully sat down on a wooden chair at her partner's bedside in
Richwood Hospital. This was another hospital to add to the list
of those that Mulder had been admitted to, she reflected glumly,
as she watched her partner's face for any sign of him regaining
consciousness.

He looked almost peaceful in the white hospital bed. She had
cleaned him up herself after the nurses had removed his clothes,
as his face and hands had been dirty from falling to the ground.
As she studied his almost serene composure on the pillows, she
realised that her partner was a truly handsome man. - It was just
unfortunate that when he was awake the pain in his eyes detracted
from the beauty of his face.

But Scully couldn't hold her thoughts on minor topics for long.
They kept wandering back to the image of that dark-haired girl
lying in the woods, only a short way from her unconsciouss
partner. What had happened there? Had Mulder been chasing the
killer when he fell down? Was he running to fetch help after
finding the girl? Why had he been there anyway? And what
connection did he have to these killings?

Scully sighed and tried to stretch the creases from her face with
her hands. When she raised her head again she saw her partner
struggle to open his eyes.

"Mulder? Are you okay?" she asked in concern.

"Scully?" His voice was hoarse, having been outside in the cold
for quite some time, but the sound of her voice seemed to
reassure him, and he forced his eyes open to look up at her.
"What happened?"

"That's what we were wondering, Mulder." Scully replied, "You
didn't come back to your motel last night."

"I..." Mulder searched for something to say, and then shook his
head, "What day was last night?"

"Mulder?"

"What day is it?" he repeated.

"Thursday. You don't remember?"

Mulder shook his head, "I don't remember anything since... since
meeting one of my contacts in Washington."

"Mulder that was over two weeks ago!" Scully exclaimed, "You
don't remember anything after that?"

"I don't think so." Mulder said carefully. Scully sighed.

"Then I guess you've no idea why you were in the woods last
night, or why we found you unconsciouss only a short way from the
third victim of a serial killer who seems to know you."

Mulder shook his head. "Seems to know me?"

"You've apparently been getting notes, which is how you were
originally brought into the case, from someone who's going around
kidnapping and killing young girls."

Mulder frowned, and tried to suppress a small shudder.

"Have you *any* idea at all why you might be getting notes from
this person?" Scully asked. Mulder shook his head.

"I really don't have a clue about anything you're talking about,
Scully." he replied. She sighed, and nodded wearily.

"We never get breaks, do we?" she muttered, and then got to her
feet. "I've got to go and get some sleep before trying to solve
this case you've dragged us into. - The doctors want you to stay
here under observation until they're sure you haven't got a
concussion. I'll have a police officer posted by your door just
in case."

Mulder nodded, to weary to protest, and watched as Scully got up
from her chair, touched his hand briefly with her own, and then
moved to the door and went out. Closing his eyes again, he let
sleep come.

End of part 2.

I'd appreciate any comments or constructive criticism from fellow X-philes.
Email me on <smythja@aston.ac.uk>.

Danielle Culverson.
This is a fiction story based on the characters created by Chris
Carter. No infringement of copyrights held by 10/13 Productions,
Twentieth Century Productions, or Fox Broadcasting is intended.
All unrecognised characters and plot-lines belong to me. Names,
characters, and places exist solely within my imagination, or are
used fictitiously. No connection to any person, living or dead, is
intended, and any resemblance is entirely coincidental. Feel free
to distribute, but please keep me as the author.

Danielle Culverson.

Relation
3/3.

* * *

Mulder glanced behind him as he paused for a moment, and then
forged on through the undergrowth in the woods just outside
Edgington. Behind him he dragged a young girl, who was
struggling to keep up with his long strides, and occasionally
crying out tearfully as he pulled on her arm.

The wood was dark around them, closing off everything except them
and the trees immediately about them. They stumbled into a
clearing, and Mulder pushed the girl to the ground where she sat
there for a moment, crying. He looked down on her, taking in her
dark hair, her diminutive features, and the tears streaming down
her face.

She looked up at him suddenly, and her eyes were wide and filled
with unknown terror. Scrambling quickly to one side she made a
run for an animal path leading away from the clearing.

Mulder sprinted after her, bearing her to the ground before she
reached the trees. He turned her over so that she was looking up
at him, anger building inside. - Where was she going? Why didn't
she want to stay? Why was she so afraid of him?

She wouldn't run away from him again.

Mulder put his hands around her throat, silently amazed that he
could almost reach right around her throat with one hand. She
tried to scream. He could feel her vocal cords working under his
fingers, see the scream in her eyes and her parted lips. But no
sound came out, and he smiled faintly as her eyes started to lose
focus. She convulsed briefly, but he held her down with one knee
as the spasms came and went. Then her eyes went glassy, and he
released her.

She made no movement. She didn't try to get away.

Mulder cried out, and awoke on the hospital bed, his hands
reaching up to clutch something in front of him, and the
concerned and somewhat horrified face of a police officer looking
down on him.

"Agent Mulder?" the officer asked. Mulder blinked, and shook
his head, trying to clear the dream from it.

"Bad dream." he muttered, "I was in the woods with a young girl,
and I..." his hands raised slightly from the bedclothes where
they had fallen as he woke up, making strangling motions.
Suddenly he realised what he was doing, and what it looked like,
and dropped his hands.

Too late, it seemed. The officer had seen quite enough and was
backing towards the door with an expression of distrust and
disgust on his face. Mulder parted his lips to call after him,
but thought better of it, and lay back again.

Half an hour later Scully arrived at his room again. Her
expression gave away her agitation, and she spoke quickly as she
reached his bedside.

"What's been going on, Mulder? Half the police officers seem to
think you're involved with the murders a little deeper than you
should be."

Mulder looked guiltily up at her, "I had a bad dream, Scully. -
About killing the third girl."

Scully sucked her breath in sharply, and then frowned. - Mulder
had never seen the third victim, although he knew there had been
one.

"What did she look like, Mulder?" she asked.

"Umm... dark hair, small features, about nine or ten..."

Scully nodded, her eyes widening. "Mulder, you never saw her. -
The police didn't even realise she was missing. - How could you
possibly know what she looked like?"

"Maybe I'm wrong." he suggested. Scully shook her head.

"No, Mulder, you just described the dead girl to a tee."

Mulder met her eyes as he realised what she meant, and swallowed.
"Maybe I saw her in the wood." he put forward, his voice
suddenly weak and quiet. Scully shook her head slowly, and sat
down on the wooden chair at his bedside.

"Mulder, I think you were out here chasing up something about
your sister, - that was the information that your contact gave
you two weeks ago. - Then for some reason you got pulled into
this case. Perhaps it has something to do with your sister as
well."

Mulder looked up at his partner, frowning slightly as he tried to
remember what had happened. He shook his head, "I don't know,
Scully."

Scully lowered her head. "Mulder, we both know how worked up you
can get over cases where your sister is involved. - Perhaps
you've overworked yourself, and that's why you've lost your
memory."

"Or perhaps that's why I snapped and murdered those three girls."
Mulder said abruptly. Scully looked up at him sharply.

"Mulder, I didn't say that."

"No, but it's what you were thinking. It's what everyone around
here is thinking." Mulder cried angrily, and then suddenly
closed his eyes in defeat, and let out a heavy sigh. When he
opened his eyes again and looked up at his partner, she saw a
plea in his hazel orbs. "Scully, I don't know what happened.
After that dream, I'm horrible afraid that you're all right."

Scully put one hand forward to rest on top of her partner's as
she held his gaze with sympathy and understanding in hers. He
seemed so helpless without his usually so reliable memory.

"I'll find out what's going on, Mulder." she said softly, "I'll
find your truth."

* * *

Scully opened the door of Mulder's motel room, a determined
expression masking her uncertainty about her partner's recent
history. She closed the door behind her, and stood for a moment
looking around. - There had to be something in the room somewhere
to tell her what her partner's connection to the case was.
Perhaps something in Mulder's field journal...

She crossed to the table by the window, and rifled through the
papers she found there, but found nothing relating to either the
case or his sister. She turned and glanced around again, before
striding across the room to the bedside cabinet. She pulled open
the top drawer, and saw the manilla folder which one of Mulder's
contacts had recently given him inside. She opened it, wondering
if some of the information it held might shed some light on the
situation.

The first things she found inside were three white envelopes,
each addressed to "FBI Agent Mulder". She recognised them
vaguely, before realising that one had arrived for Mulder at
their office in Washington. - He hadn't told her what it
contained.

Scully opened the uppermost envelope, and two photographs and a
note fell out. She surveyed the photographs quickly, and then
read the note.

"Agent Mulder, I have the little girl with me. If you don't stop
looking for your sister, I'm going to kill her."

Suddenly she understood why her partner was involved. She opened
the second envelope, quickly scanned the pictures, and then read
the note.

"Agent Mulder, I have this little girl now, and if you try to
follow me I can guarantee she'll end up like the first."

Scully swallowed before opening the last letter.

"I've got her now. It's time you learned that I'm telling you
the truth, because if you don't leave this alone, there'll be
another death on your conscience."

Lowering the note onto her lap, she stared into nothingness for a
moment, trying to collect her thoughts. Why her partner was
involved was obvious now. - He had been called to the scene when
one of the notes had been found, and feeling himself responsible
somehow, had stayed to try and clear up the case.

And she knew just why he had been so concerned, but hadn't
bothered to call her and tell her what was going on.

The first photograph in each letter showed the next victim.

The second photograph in each was each a recent picture of her.

* * *

Mulder struggled with dreams, writhing and moaning on his
hospital bed. From the door an anxious pair of police officers
watched him.

"Bekkins said his sister ran away when he was a kid, and he never
got over it." the shorter officer said to his companion in a low
voice, "He abducts the girls thinking they're his sister, and
then kills them when he realises his mistake."

"Then what the hell's he doing here?" the taller officer
countered, "He should be on the psycho ward."

"Probably they just haven't got around to sorting it out yet."
the first officer replied.

In his tortured dream world, Mulder strangled Jilly Thomas, and
then walked into a motel room behind his partner. He looked
around at the room, but nothing would come into focus properly.
Turning back to look at his partner, he saw her turn towards him,
a questioning smile on her face, her eyes dancing.

He lunged forward, knocking her back onto the bed where he
positioned himself over her, holding her down with the weight of
his body as she struggled against him. His hands sought the
delicate skin around her neck, and closed around it. Her eyes
met his in an expression of disbelief and horror as he squeezed
his hands around her throat.

She didn't struggle, just lay there staring up at him with a mute
plea in her eyes until her heart stopped, and he released her.
He sat back, and looked down at her, admiring his work.

Admiring?

Mulder struggled, and managed to drag himself from the dream with
an anguished cry.

"No! Scully!"

The police officers turned towards each other in alarm as Mulder
bolted upright on the bed. The shorter officer reached for his
weapon, but Mulder didn't try to get up. He sat there, the sheet
having fallen around his waist, staring unseeingly at the mound
of sheet over his feet. He was shaking with the after-effects of
the dream, and shaking inside at the horror of what he had seen
himself do.

But Scully wasn't dead. He hadn't tried to kill her, he knew
that. So where had his dream come from?

Mulder suddenly suffered an insight into his own mind. - His
dreams came from his guilt over his sister usually, and sometimes
over other cases, but in the past his worst nightmares had come
when he was trying to profile killers. Trying to get into their
heads by day, he had accomplished it horrifically well at night,
dreaming what the killer thought and felt as he or she carried
out their crimes.

This was just the same. - At some point during the case he must
have tried to profile the killer, using the earlier murders as a
reference. And this had somehow translated into his dream.

Mulder sank back gratefully onto his pillows, relieved in the
reasonable explanation for his "flashbacks". From the door the
officers, knowing nothing of Mulder's deliberations, continued to
watch him warily.

* * *

Scully wandered through Edgington woods, seemingly unconcerned
for her safety. Beneath her long overcoat, however, her hand
held her gun ready for action.

The woods around her were quiet and dark, and she hoped that she
wasn't wasting her time wandering along the deserted paths when
there was no-one around.

Having seen the photographs of herself in the three letters in
Mulder's room, Scully had come to the same conclusion as her
partner, - that when accompanying those threatening notes, the
letters also held an unnamed threat to her. - And so she hoped
that seeing her alone in the woods, the killer might be drawn
out.

Scully circled around behind the clearing where Jilly Thomas had
been found, and went on towards the area where the latest girl's
body had been discovered. As she turned back to walk towards the
road again, she decided that she was being foolish coming out
alone. - She should at least tell someone where she was and what
she was doing. - Otherwise she could end up a suspect in the case
as well as her partner.

Scully speeded her stride, and headed back towards her car. She
would drive to Edgington police station and gather a few officers
to back her up. Then if they didn't find anything, she would go
on to the hospital at Richwood to see how Mulder was getting on.

A movement to her left caught her attention, and she glanced that
way, her hand tightening around her gun, one finger reaching to
release the safety clip.

But there was no further movement. - It had probably been her
imagination.

A rock scuttled behind her, knocking against a dry root with a
hollow thud. Scully tensed, the hairs on the back of her neck
rising with the anticipation of someone behind her. She waited
for as long as she could bear before spinning around, drawing her
gun from beneath her coat as she did so.

There was nobody there. She sighed, and lowered her weapon.

Just as she did so, there was a rustle behind her, and then a
heavy weight hit her back, knocking her to the ground. She
opened her mouth to cry out, but only succeeded in getting a
mouthful of dry leaves. Strong hands clutched her shoulders,
twisting her over. She saw a dark-haired man looming over her.

He placed a knee on her chest, pushing most of the breath out of
her. Then his hands closed around her throat, pressing against
the front of it, and crushing around the sides. She gagged.

Suddenly re-exerting control over her limbs, she realised she
still had her gun in her right hand. She turned it as far as she
could towards the man, and fired at point blank range. His eyes
widened in surprise, and his hands first squeezed tighter around
her throat, then relaxed. He slumped over her as she felt the
warmness of his blood soaking through her clothes.

Pushing his body off her, Scully shakily got to her feet, and
reholstered her weapon. She then squatted beside the body to
check for life signs, and found none. Rising again, she
continued to walk back to her car.

* * *

Scully hurried down the hospital corridor towards the room her
partner was in. She tried to brush past the police guards at the
door, but one of them put an arm out to block her entry.

"You don't want to go in there, Agent Scully." he said, before
noticing the blood on her clothes, "What happened?"

Scully waved a hand in dismissal, "Why can't I go in?" she
asked sharply.

"He's been dreaming of murdering you." the shorter guard
replied. Scully glanced at him.

"He's been *dreaming* of trying to find the killer." she said
coldly, and then pushed through the doorway. As she reached her
partner's bedside, he opened his eyes.

"Scully..." he began, and then saw the state of her clothing.
Sitting up, he reached towards her, "What happened? Are you
alright?"

Scully looked down at the drying blood, and nodded. Looking up
at her partner again she answered, "Not my blood, Mulder.
Someone else's."

Mulder lifted his gaze to her face, and then spotted the swollen
red marks at her neck. Reaching towards her, he gently touched
the bruised flesh. "What happened?" he murmured again.

From the doorway, the two officers couldn't hear the conversation
between the two agents, but on seeing Mulder lift his hands to
Scully's neck, they acted as one. Racing into the room, one
pushed the two agents apart while the other leveled his gun at
Mulder's head.

"It's okay, Agent Scully." the shorter officer said as he stood
between her and Mulder.

Scully was livid. "Okay? - What the hell do you think you're
doing?"

"But he tried to attack you..."

"No, he was just concerned that I already had been." Scully
snapped, lifting her chin to give the officer a better view of
the marks on her neck which Mulder had seen as his bed was at a
lower level than her. "You'll find your killer in Edgington
woods, not far from where the latest victim was found, dead."
she added, indicating the blood on her clothes. The two officers
stared at her, uncomprehendingly.

Scully gave a sigh of frustration, before firmly taking hold of
both of them and shoving them towards the door. "You're
relieved." she called after them, "There's no longer any danger
to Agent Mulder."

"Or from me." Mulder added in an undertone. Scully glanced
towards him where he was now lying across the bed, and nodded
with a weary sigh. She sat down on the chair again, and met her
partner's gaze.

"Do you think you could come back to Washington now?" she asked
tiredly. Mulder nodded in silent agreement.

The End.

I'd appreciate any comments or constructive criticism from fellow X-philes.
Email me on <smythja@aston.ac.uk>.

Danielle Culverson.