Subject: NEW: Disoriented by FirePhile (1/9)
From: firephile@aol.com (FirePhile)
Date: 7 Oct 1997 17:52:44 GMT

DISORIENTED

DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, A.D. Walter
Skinner, etc. belong to the actors that portray them,
CC&Co. , 10-13 productions, and Fox Television
Network. The characters that you don't recognize, belong
to me. All Movies, TV shows, famous people, magazines,
books and music mentioned belong to the respective
companies, or themselves. No copyright infringement is
intended. "Blowing in the Wind" is from Bob Dylan and
"Nothing Else Matters" is from Metallica both are used
without permission. This story is mine and anyone that
tampers with it or tries to steal it may find themselves as
QueeQueg treats, just a warning :)

Author's Note: I realize that Skinner is still married, but
this was written way before the events of Avatar :). Yes,
Scully doesn't have a desk as Never Again told us, but in
my story, she does. Huge thanks go out to the tireless
efforts of editors my Mom and A Chase who helped me
through some really rough scenes, without whom this story
would have never been completed and to the sister of my
heart, Foxzphile, who helped me more than I can say.
Thanks also go out to my family and numerous other
people who helped with the revising of this story, you know
who you are :)

Warning: This story contains scenes of rape and attempted
rape. However, it can be read by the squeamish because
the scenes are undetailed and as vague as possible.
Time Frame: In the not too distant past.
Rating: R (For violence and adult language/content)
Category: XA
Keywords: M/S Friendship, Conspiracy
Summary: While on a routine case in NYC, Mulder and Scully fall into a
consortium trap.

I love feedback and I answer all my mail, so write me at
FirePhile@aol.com to tell me what you liked or what you
didn't like, constructive criticism is welcomed. Flames are
ignored.

Copyrighted August 12, 1997 by Rachel J. Ehrentreu

DISORIENTED
part 1

by Rachel Ehrentreu (FirePhile@aol.com)

March 20, 1996
New York
5:00 pm

Kara Soren paid the driver and hobbled out of the taxi. She
slipped on some ice and stood up again. Unfortunately,
she'd banged the same knee. In her left hand she clutched a
letter, one which was very important. He wanted to see her
again. Secretly, she hoped this meant that he wanted to get
back together. Even though she hadn't seen him in almost
five years, part of her still loved him. She walked up the
stairs and fumbled with her key. She'd just moved out of
her fiancee's place about two weeks beforehand and had
finally finished putting her stuff back where it belonged.
She'd actually had some fantasy about marriage and kids,
but when she caught John in the arms of not one but two
other women, the dream crumbled. However, she was
moving on and perhaps this letter was a sign, a
continuation of something. He wanted to meet around 8:00
at a restaurant that was about two blocks away. She
glanced at the clock on her wall, 5:15, she could rest for a
few minutes.

She shivered and turned up the heat. Her Greenwich
Village apartment was located above a music store. She
could hear "The answer my friends is blowing in the wind
the answer is blowing in the wind," through the
floorboards. She flopped down on the couch, a soft
patterned thing from Ikea, tossed the letter onto her coffee
table and turned on the television. She took her dark hair
out of its ponytail and shook her head slightly. Earlier that
day she had walked into a desk at the New York Times,
where she was a reporter. Her left knee was starting to
swell and hurt. She stood up to get ice and heard a scratch
at her window. She turned her head towards it and as she
looked at the window, her electricity went out. She cursed
loudly and started walking towards her door when an eerie
glow surrounded her.

She was freezing, as if she was surrounded by arctic air.
Suddenly, something grabbed her upper arm and started
pulling her towards the window. She started to scream but
the music had changed to Nine Inch Nails. She felt herself
falling and hit the middle of the street with a thud. She
wasn't unconscious but stared open eyed at her window, not
feeling any of the sharp pieces of glass that had attached
themselves to her or the broken left leg and right arm. A
car came around the corner. It was going too fast to stop.
She didn't even have time to think. The car ran over her as
if she was a speed bump and kept right on going. The
patrons of the music store rushed to the sidewalk, but they
were too late.

March 21, 1996
Washington, DC
J. Edgar Hoover Building
9:15 AM

Special Agent Dana Scully arrived in the basement. She
quickly walked to the office that she shared with Special
Agent Fox Mulder and unlocked the door.

She was a little surprised that he was not there, since she
was late. She hung up her trenchcoat, and sat down at her
desk then lifted up the top of her coffee and was greeted by
a fresh brewed aroma. As she took a small sip, she opened
up her laptop computer. The notes on the latest autopsy
she had performed had yet to be finished. So, she started
the tape and wrote the remaining sentences. After she was
finished, she turned off the tape and saved the file on the
laptop. Then she took another sip of her coffee, noticing
that it was almost gone and shut the computer down.

She sat in thought for a few seconds, then dialed Mulder's
cellular phone number on her office phone.

The phone rang for a few seconds. "Mulder."

"Mulder, it's me. Where are you?"

"Scully, glad you called. Get a plane ticket to New York
City. Don't tell anyone why. I'll meet you at J.F.K. I have
to go now."

Scully was about to reply, but he'd already hung up.

"He ran off without me again, but I want to see what was so
important." She thought they had worked that out at
Melissa's grave. Obviously, she was wrong. "Lets see what
kind of trouble he's gotten himself into this time," she said
as she picked up the phone and got a ticket to New York
City.

March 21
New York City
JFK Airport
11:30 PM

Scully stepped out of the airport terminal. Her trip was
short and uneventful. For the first time in a long while, she
didn't have a case file to read on the flight, so she got a
chance to read the next issue of the *Skeptical Inquirer*. It
was the skeptic's bible, so to speak, and the new issue had
just come in at the airport. This issue dealt with mind
reading and how it was not possible. Scully needed to read
it. It was something that helped her keep her skepticism
and objectivity.

She'd flirted with the idea of joining CSICOP or The
Committee for the Scientific Investigation of Claims of the
Paranormal. However, her busy schedule had prevented
her from joining. She was asked to write for them a few
months prior by a friend. She had to turn down the offer,
citing the confidentiality of her work as a reason. She
remembered something she had read about psychics a few
years ago. According to the article, believers were sheep,
and skeptics were goats. She wanted to give Mulder a
subscription to the magazine for his birthday. She felt that
some of the articles might help him. <Maybe they'll make
him less gullible>, she thought, smiling.

She ran a hand through her shoulder length red hair,
smoothed down her grey pantsuit and walked over to the
baggage claim area. After a few minutes wait, her bag
made its way around the conveyor belt, and she grabbed it.
She'd had a limited time to pack, so she sort of forgot what
she had thrown into the suitcase. As usual, Mulder hadn't
mentioned how long they were going to spend in NYC or
what they were even doing there. She held the suitcase in
one hand and her briefcase in the other. She walked
towards the exit doors. They opened automatically for her,
and she spotted a grey Ford Taurus a few feet from the
entrance.

The sole occupant of the car was a man who had dark
brown hair and was wearing a dark blue suit with a black
trenchcoat. He had a file opened on his lap and seemed
oblivious to everything going on around him. As she
walked up, he popped a sunflower seed into his mouth and
threw the shell out of the open window.

Scully opened the trunk and put in her bags. She opened
the car door and sat down. Mulder experienced a moment
of shock when the trunk opened, but he quickly calmed
down.

"Did I startle you Mulder?" she asked, fastening her
seatbelt.

"Not really. I was just engrossed in this file," He smiled
slightly. He closed the file and handed it to her.

She opened the file and flipped through it quickly, "Ghosts
throwing people in front of cars, Mulder?" She had to
force down a smile.

"It all makes sense Scully. The witnesses reported hearing
the victims scream and seeing them in shock in the middle
of the street. There have been four other deaths in New
Jersey, Long Island, Vermont and Connecticut."

"Then why are we in New York City?" She closed the file
quickly, and handed it back to him.

"There was a fifth death last night." He put the bag of
sunflower seeds back into his trenchcoat pocket.

She looked at him to see if maybe he was trying to hide the
real reason they were there. She saw nothing to suggest
that he was hiding anything, but he was usually a hard
person to read - even for her. She knew that he was not
there to investigate a murder, even one committed by a
ghost. There had to be something else.

"Couldn't these crimes have been committed by a living
person?"

"There is one other piece of information that is not in the
file."

"What is it?"

"A witness I talked to reported seeing an eerie glow coming
from the victim's apartment. I have a hunch that what we
are dealing with is not living."

"That is a pretty big leap in logic. Let me guess - you think
this has something to do with aliens?"

He smiled again, "Of course not. No one reported seeing
any lights in the sky, just lights in the apartment."

Scully smiled back at him, "So, where are we off to now?"

"Greenwich Village," Mulder answered as he started the
car again and drove towards the crime scene.

She took the opportunity to look out of the window at
NYC. She had not spent much time here and was glad that
this case gave her an opportunity to see a little more of it.
She made a mental note to schedule a vacation in NYC for
sometime in the future. There were a few college friends
that she hadn't seen in a while and two of them lived in
NYC. Maybe if the investigation did not take too long, she
could visit one of them while she was here.

The local police had investigated the crime earlier, but they
had already ruled it as a suicide. The road had been closed
off, so they had to walk to the apartment. There was a
white outline of the victim's body on the street in front of
her apartment. Scully and Mulder walked up to the music
store and walked in. The store was called "Noise". The
origin of the name was not known. However, it was a
popular spot for the young people who lived around the
area. As they walked up to the counter, Marilyn Manson
started to play from the large speakers on the wall.

The patrons searching thru the store's collection of records,
CD's and tapes seemed completely oblivious to the tragedy
that had occurred the night before. Four teenage girls were
pointing and laughing w/ high pitched giggles at a poster.
The counter of the store was plastered with pictures of the
patrons and pictures cut out of magazines. Scully was not
entirely sure, but she would bet anything that there wasn't a
Mariah Carey CD anywhere in the store.

A young woman walked up to them. She was wearing
shiny red sneakers, tight blue jeans and a T-shirt with the
message "Stop Testing On Animals" in small letters on the
left breast and an absolutely adorable puppy on the back.
Her long light brown hair was tied back in a ponytail and
her bright blue eyes shone with interest.

"Hi, my name's Jessy, can I help you with anything?"

Mulder spoke first. " I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder. This
is Special Agent Dana Scully, FBI." Both of them flashed
their badges at the woman.

Jessy knew they were important people and they were there
for a reason.

"We'd like to ask you some questions about Kara Soren's
death." Scully took out a small notepad.

"Look," Jessy said with a sad sigh, "I talked with the cops
earlier. I did not see anything. I was busy helping a
customer. I'm sorry I can't help you." The teenage girls in
the back had a question, and she turned to help them.

"You didn't hear anything?" Mulder called to her.

"Jessy turned around to face them. "I only heard the music
the store was playing then. I did not even hear Kara
scream." She blinked quickly and took a deep breath.
Kara's death was still too raw to have someone asking her
questions, she felt guilty enough as it was. She dug into her
pocket and pulled out a key. "Here, I'm not sure if the cops
left the door open or not. The entrance is next door," she
handed the key to Mulder and walked towards the
teenagers.

Scully and Mulder exited the store. There was a door next
to the store, and the key fit the lock. Mulder opened the
door. The door was metal and opened easily. They walked
through a short hallway and reached a narrow flight of
stairs. White paint was flaking off the walls. It looked like
the chips were cleaned off the stairs every so often. The
stairs were wooden, and a banister ran the length of the
stairwell. They were only one flight long, Kara's apartment
was at the top. The key fit the apartment door also.

Mulder tried to turn the knob and open the door but he was
surprised to find it seemed stuck. He tried again, but there
was no doubt about it - the door was definitely locked from
the inside. He knocked loudly on the door.

"Who is it?" A voice asked from behind the door.

"I'm Agent Fox Mulder and with me is Agent Dana Scully,
FBI. We're investigating Ms. Soren's death and need to get
into the apartment." He stopped for a second. "Who are
you?"

There was movement inside the apartment, and the door
opened. A tall blond haired man stood inside. His suit was
slightly disheveled, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"I'm Ben Sellers," the man answered, moving aside for the
agents. Mulder entered first, Scully followed him.

"How did you get into this apartment, Mr. Sellers?" Scully
asked.

Ben answered quickly. "I'd like to see some ID before I
answer any questions."

The agents flashed their badges at him. Ben nodded his
acceptance of the ID's, and they put their badges away.

"Kara gave me a key," Ben answered the question, sitting
down on a couch.

Scully and Mulder walked further into the apartment.

"What is the FBI doing here anyway? The police already
ruled this a suicide." Ben's words were running into each
other.

Mulder thought for a second, it was none of Mr. Seller's
business. "I found some evidence that the police didn't and
I suspect it is not a suicide." There, he thought, that didn't
give too much away.

"Mr. Sellers, can you think of any enemies your friend
might have had?" Scully asked gently.

Ben shook his head slowly. "Kara and I are reporters,
Agent Scully. We never know that we have enemies until
we get a death threat...or get hurt." Realization dawned in
his sapphire eyes. "She did get a letter yesterday. That
could have been a death threat."

"What did the letter say?" Scully pressed gently.

"She wouldn't let me see it. All I know is she started crying
after she read it."

"Do you know where the letter is now?" Mulder
interrupted.

Ben shook his head again.

"Mr. Sellers, you're going to have to leave. This is a crime
scene after all," Mulder said glancing around the
apartment.

Ben nodded and stood up. "If I can be of any more help,
call me. I know Kara did not commit suicide." He handed
Scully his card.

"If we need you, we will call," Scully said as Ben made his
way to the door.

"Thank you, I hope you find out what really happened to
Kara." Ben walked out of the apartment.

"That was tactful," Scully murmured.

"He was disrupting a crime scene."

"His friend died yesterday and he was here to mourn and
remember her. We had no right to stop him from doing
that."

"What were we going to do? Investigate around him?"
Mulder started to search for clues.

Scully sighed softly. At the moment, arguing with him was
pointless. She decided to drop it. She began to search for
clues herself. After about 20 minutes, it became painfully
clear - there was no evidence to be found in the apartment.

Mulder looked at his watch, it was 4:00 pm. "So, how
about we go to New York General?" He asked
off-handedly.

Scully stopped investigating for a moment and turned to
face him. "What's there Mulder?"

He looked at her for a second, she got the point. "Ok, I'll
do it." Autopsies were her forte after all.

After a few minutes' drive, they reached the hospital. "I'd
go in with you, but I want to follow up on a few leads."

"Is this the only reason why you wanted me to come up
here Mulder? To perform an autopsy on Kara Soren?" She
was beginning to feel like his sidekick.

"Of course not Scully. I just hate hospitals and don't want
to watch another autopsy. I'll call you the minute I find out
anything, I promise." He sounded sincere.

"Ok, pick me up at six," She bit down her anger. <He
always does this to me anyway, but why is it bothering me
so much now?>

"I'll be here at five forty-five."

She opened the car door and stepped out. He watched her
start up the steps, and drove away.

end part 1

New York General
4:30 pm

The hospital smelled of antiseptic. One or two nurses ran
around helping patients. No one was behind the front desk,
so Scully made her way to the Emergency Room. The ER
was in chaos. Patients sat with gunshot wounds, stab
wounds, wounds from car accidents, and other various
injuries, waiting to be helped. A frazzled blonde haired
nurse stepped up to Scully.

"Yes, what do you want?" she hastily asked, giving her a
quick glance.

"I'm Agent Dana Scully. Where can I find the morgue?"
Scully quickly flashed her ID at the woman.

"Morgue's down in the basement, first door on the right."
the nurse answered, then ran off to help the doctors with an
accident victim.

Scully walked to the elevator and pressed the button for the
basement. A few seconds later, the doors opened. The
basement was markedly colder than the top floor. As she
stepped out of the elevator, she prepared herself to examine
the dead body. The autopsy was not being conducted for
any real reason . The time, place, and manner of death
were already established. The door to the apartment had
been locked from the inside. Most striking of all, no
fingerprints except the victim's could be found. It was
obviously a simple suicide, but Mulder would never rest
until all the investigation was complete. Besides, it was
possible that the body would tell something the apartment
never could.

Shaking her head free of those thoughts, she opened up the
swinging doors to the morgue. A small room on the left
revealed an autopsy bay. What appeared to be a
middle-aged man was standing over a child's body. On a
metal table next to him lay stained metal tools. On a
counter near him were a few jars. She knew those jars
contained samples from the child. The man was dressed in
scrubs and his hair was covered by a plastic cap. Over his
eyes were thick plastic glasses and above the body was a
microphone. The man seemed to be finishing up the
autopsy on the small child in front of him. She waited
patiently for him to turn off his recorder and start sewing
up the body. The man looked up and frowned.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" He
demanded.

"I'm Doctor Dana Scully, FBI, I have authorization to
perform an autopsy on Kara Soren." She quickly flashed
her badge at the man.

"Well, I'm almost finished." The man sewed up the child
and walked past her into the changing area.

He stripped off the blood-stained gloves and threw them
into a bio-hazardous waste container located near the door.
He then walked through a door, went to a sink and washed
his hands thoroughly.

"What did the child die of?"

"Excuse me?"

"The child you were examining - what was the cause of
death?"

The man walked towards her. "He was murdered, primary
cause of death was strangulation." The man moved past
her and grabbed a box of Polaroids from the counter.

"The camera is in the far right hand cabinet," he said, as he
walked out the door and let it shut loudly behind him.

She glanced at the child on the slab, innocent, young, and
murdered. She had joined the FBI to stop crimes from
happening to a small child like the one before her. <I
should be out trying to find that child's murderer, instead
I'm here waiting to autopsy a woman who, according to
Mulder, was killed by something that doesn't even exist.
Maybe it was a suicide, maybe she was pushed, whatever
caused this woman's death I'm positive it wasn't a
supernatural occurrence. Sometimes I wish I could catch
the real monsters, instead of trying to catch the paranormal
ones>.

She quickly found where the scrubs were located, almost
the exact same place in every morgue, ran into the
changing room, and came out a minute or so later, ready to
begin.

She figured the bodies were in alphabetical order. Kara
Soren was not very hard to find. She was in the bottom
drawer of the S's. She took out a picture and compared it
to the mess in the metal drawer. Even though the woman
was almost unrecognizable from the smiling face in the
picture, it was definitely Ms. Soren. She pressed a button,
and a minute or so later, two orderly's walked through the
door, moving Ms. Soren to an examining table. They also
put the child's body away. They left as quickly as they
came.

Scully waited until the orderlies were gone, then walked
over to the examining table.

There was something about Ms. Soren that was very
unusual for suicide victims. The woman appeared to be in
shock when she died. It was almost as if she had
experienced the most horrible experience of her life before
the car hit her. She walked over and got the camera out,
snapping a few pictures of the eyes. The first part of the
autopsy dealt with external features. The woman's right leg
was bent at an awkward angle, the femur sticking up
through the skin. She also recognized a tattoo on the leg,
which she duly noted. The weight, height, and age of the
woman were all determined earlier, but standard procedure
demanded that she check the weight and height again. She
turned on the microphone and began to speak. "The
autopsy on Miss Kara Soren started at 4:50 pm, on March
21, 1996. The victim is female and 32 years old. Hair is
long and brown, eyes blue. Distinguishing mark is a 'Beast'
from 'Beauty and the Beast' tattoo on her right leg which
stretches from ankle to knee. The victim is five feet, six
inches tall and weighs 120 pounds."

She pulled on a pair of latex gloves and continued the
external examination. She lifted up the woman's right arm
and checked the fingernails for damage. Careful
examination showed no loose skin under the fingernails.
However, there were shards of something embedded in the
palm. Instinct told her it was gravel. She snapped a few
pictures of the palm. It definitely led credence to the
theory of murder. Would someone trying to kill themselves
put out their hands to stop their fall? It just did not add up.
The left arm had the same findings, except it seemed to be
almost crushed. Yes, there was a definite crushing of the
forearm. It looked like someone had grabbed onto it tightly
enough to cause finger shaped bruising. She snapped a few
pictures of the arm.

The rest of the autopsy went smoothly, evidence being
noted and findings being spoken. She sutured up all the
cuts she made into the body and left the body on the table.
The orderlies would be down shortly to clean up. She
stripped off the gown, the gloves, and the cap and threw
them all into the bio-hazard waste container located near
the door. She washed her hands and forearms thoroughly
before changing back into her suit. She collected the
pictures she had snapped of the body and the tape in the
recorder.

Walking out of the morgue, she let the door swing behind
her. The black high-heeled shoes she was wearing made
little click-click noises on the linoleum leading to the
elevator.

Grand Central Station
4:00 pm

Detective Carl Barrows sighed. Robert Garret was not
there. An informant of his in the criminal world had gotten
word that Garret was supposed to show up to meet
someone. He never did. Barrows knew there was no
chance he had missed him either. He looked down at the
police sketch in his right hand. Garret was a tall, handsome
man, who one witness said 'exuded sexuality'. The picture
showed him with short hair. Barrows stared at the picture,
hoping he could see something in it he hadn't seen during
the first 100 times he had looked at it. Usually, when
looking at a sadistic bastard one can tell who they are from
the eyes or the face. No matter what they do, the eyes or
the face betrays something not quite normal about them.

Garret did not have that problem. Looking into his eyes
revealed nothing of what he was really like. Underneath
the normal exterior though, Barrows knew there was a
cold, cruel man, who did not like his women to be willing.
A shudder ran through him. He wanted Garret. He wanted
him to pay for his crimes.

For a second or two, Barrows was haunted by a memory, a
woman's voice, someone who he had cared about deeply.
The memory soon vanished, but it reminded Barrows of
why he wanted to catch Garret so much. He stared up at
the ceiling, a beautiful mural of the sky. It was so majestic
and peaceful. He had a sudden vision of a beautiful young
woman and a man. They were running through a field
under a star-filled sky. Then the man threw the woman to
the ground. Barrows shook his head quickly. Night is
when Garret kills. He picks up women who would be more
then willing to do things with him because of how he looks.
He then takes them to deserted places and does horrible,
horrible things. Barrows closed his eyes and took a few
deep breaths. He was remembering Garret's file in graphic
detail. A montage of pictures ran through his brain. That
voice returned saying she was going out for drinks with
someone she met, named Robert.

She had left him a message on the answering machine
telling him to call her later.

He had gotten home too late that night to speak to her. He
would never forget the early morning phone call from his
partner, Johnson, the same person who was trying to get his
attention now.

"Carl!" Detective Mark Johnson called from a few feet
away from him. He had a phone to his ear.

"What?" Barrows bellowed back. He could barely hear
what his partner was saying over the din of the commuters
pouring into Grand Central Station.

"Garret was just brought in to Headquarters. Dani says so."

Barrows smiled and started walking towards the entrance.

New York City jail cell
11:40 pm

Mulder was not in a good mood. He leaned his head
against the bars and thought about the day's recent events.
While in NYC traffic, he had accidentally banged into a
brand new red Toyota. It wasn't his fault that a kid in a
beat up old Honda decided to step on the brakes way too
late. The kid rear-ended the Taurus, and consequently
Mulder rear-ended the Toyota. The owner, who was a
blonde in her mid twenties, was not pleased at all. She
quickly opened her door and stepped out. She walked over
to the Taurus and knocked loudly on the window with
perfectly manicured red nails. Mulder moved the window
down so she could speak.

"Excuse me, do you realize you just crashed into my car?"
she asked softly.

Mulder handled this like he did all situations. He showed
the woman his badge. She was not impressed.

"My dad is police commissioner of New York. You can't
intimidate me with your badge," she whispered angrily.

He decided to step out of his car and talk to her face to
face. He opened the door, and she moved away a little.
Raising himself to his full 6'1" of height, he looked straight
at her.

"I'm sorry about hitting your car, but it wasn't my fault," He
said, implicating the car behind him.

"At least you admit it! I'm suing for the price of my car,
which is about $23,000." She was poking his chest with
her index finger, and her nail was starting to bite into his
skin.

"Your car was barely even damaged." He pointed to her
car, which had a tiny dent in the back.

"Then I'll sue you for reckless driving. I think my neck is
starting to hurt."

He had the distinct desire to say something to her, which
would probably get him in big trouble. So he suppressed
the comment. "Your neck is fine. I barely even touched
the car."

The woman protested, "Something moved. It hurts. Would
you massage it?" She looked up at him with wide,
expressive blue eyes. She moved closer to him and moved
her hair away from her neck.

Against all his better judgment, he started to massage her
neck. She was tense, but he didn't feel anything out of
place. He heard the sound of horns blaring in the
background. Suddenly she started to scream, and people
came out of their cars to see what the problem was. He
immediately took his hands off her neck.

Unfortunately, a cop also came out to see what happened.
Even more unfortunately, he recognized the blonde
immediately.

"What happened, Tara?" The middle-aged, slightly plump
cop asked as he reached them.

Tara turned to the man and glared and pointed at Mulder.
"He tried to attack me."

The cop turned towards Mulder and gave him a quick
overlook. "Did you try to attack this woman?"

Mulder was totally surprised at this recent turn of events.
"No I didn't." He finally managed to get out.

"What did he do, Tara?" The cop asked, putting a
protective arm around her.

Tara spoke quickly, "It was horrible. He banged into my
new car. Then when I got out to ask him what happened,
he showed me a badge. He put his hands to my throat, like
he was going to choke me. Then, I screamed." She was
starting to get hysterical and the cop's arm tightened into a
more protective grip.

"Is that what happened?" the cop asked angrily.

Mulder was silently cursing the situation, but decided that
maybe his badge would get him out of this one. " I'm
Special Agent Fox Mulder, FBI. I'm here on a case, and I
accidentally banged into this woman's car. That is all that
happened. She is the one that asked me to massage her
neck." He flashed his badge at the cop, who did not seem
very impressed either.

"Is that what happened, Tara?" the cop asked the scared
young woman gently.

Tara shook her head violently, "He's lying," she said softly.
That seemed to be all the cop needed to hear, because the
next thing Mulder knew, he was being shoved against his
car and felt his hands being handcuffed behind him. The
cop searched him and took his gun out of its holster. He
had his rights read to him. Then he was pushed into a
nearby car.

The cop took the frightened blonde with him also, putting
her in the front seat gently. Mulder thought it was strange
for their cars to be left there and thought about telling the
cop to grab his briefcase. The last thing he needed was for
his files to be stolen. The ride continued in silence, and
soon, they were at the police station. Mulder was quickly
booked and had the handcuffs taken off. He was
fingerprinted, photographed, and then brought into a
interrogation room. A few minutes later, two cops entered
the room. They were both wearing brown suits and plain
ties. One was in his thirties, with short blonde hair and was
about 6'0". The other one was in his early to mid twenties
with short black hair and was about 5'8". Both were in
good shape.

"I'm Detective Johnson. This is my partner, Detective
Barrows," the dark-haired one said, pointing to his
blonde-haired companion.

"I'm sorry that I rear-ended her car. Can I go now?"
Mulder asked quickly. He wanted to get back to
investigating Kara's death before the trail became cold.
This was one of the most ridiculous things that had ever
happened to him.

Barrows pulled out a sheet of white paper and Mulder
found himself looking at a sketch that looked a lot like him.
Underneath the picture was the name Robert Garret.

"What is this?"

"Come now, you should be able to recognize your own
image, Mr. Garret." Barrows whispered.

"I think you've made a mistake, my name is Fox Mulder
and I'm a Special Agent with the FBI."

"Oh really? That's impossible, Fox Mulder is on assignment
in Colorado, he can't be in two places at once."

Mulder mentally cursed himself. He was supposed to be in
Colorado helping out with a standoff between some people
and the government. However, something important had
come up in NYC and he had to leave immediately. Of
course, the only person in the FBI that had any knowledge
about his whereabouts was Scully. This was not good.

"Yes, that's where I'm supposed to be..."

Detective Johnson pulled out Mulder's ID and badge, "I
don't know how you made these Mr. Garret, but just tell us
the truth, this will go so much quicker that way." He tossed
them onto the wooden table.

"But I am telling the truth. I can clear up this
misunderstanding easily if you just let me call my partner.
She'll clear this whole thing up." Mulder was starting to
get really ticked off, he had no time for this, didn't these
people realize that they were screwing up a federal
investigation?

Barrows and Johnson exchanged looks.

"Look, I'm here investigating a murder and the more time
we spend arguing, the surer I am that the murderer will
strike again."

"You're really standing by this whole FBI thing aren't you
Garret?" Barrows almost laughed.

Mulder stayed very calm, he hated local police. "Listen,
whatever petty crimes this guy Garret is wanted for, it is
not worth you detaining me like this. You're impeding a
federal investigation."

"Petty? You're being charged with 13 counts of
rape/murder and one of attempted rape." Barrows felt an
anger that he hadn't before, how dare this monster call his
crimes petty.

Whatever Mulder had been expecting to hear, this wasn't it.
Jesus, he profiled guys like this Garret person. How the
hell had he gotten into this situation?

"I'm not Robert Garret."

"Yes, I believe you are, look at the picture and listen to
this." Johnson pulled a small tape player out of his jacket
pocket and played it.

"BEEP...Susie, it's Robert, I'll pick you up at 7 for drinks,
see you then."

Now Mulder was really confused, he didn't remember that
at all, but it sounded a lot like his voice. Even worse, he
more he looked down at the picture, the more he saw
himself.

"I admit that Garret and I could be twin brothers, but I'm
not him." Mulder knew getting upset wouldn't help at all.

"So, what happened with Tara Dreyer?" Barrows asked
offhandedly.

"I accidentally rear-ended her car and she got upset. That's
why she screamed."

"She didn't scream because you were about to choke her to
death?" Johnson sat down.

"I was just massaging her neck!" Mulder protested.

"Oh, come on Garret, is that what happened with Susan
Raben?" Barrows was getting more and more agitated.

"Who?"

"The woman whose body we found in a deserted field in
Nassau County," Barrows spat out the words to Mulder.

"I'm entitled to a lawyer, " Mulder said after a few
seconds.

"Yes, you are," Johnson said.

"Can I speak in private with them for a minute or two?"

Johnson and Barrows exchanged glances then Barrows
said, "All right, for a minute or two."

They handed Mulder a phone and left the room. He wasted
no time, immediately dialing Scully's cellular phone
number.

End of part 2

Holiday Inn
Room 213
9:10 pm

Scully opened the door and fell into the room. She was so
mad at Mulder, she could not even think about him. She'd
waited for him at the hospital three hours, then finally lost
her patience and took a taxi to a hotel. "Where the hell can
he be?" she said aloud as she sat down on a bed and started
to massage her aching feet. He said he would be back in a
few hours, but four hours was a long time, even for him.
No, she was determined not to worry about him. "You'd
better have a good excuse Mulder," she said angrily.

As if on cue, her cellular phone rang.

"Scully."

"Scully, it's me."

"Mulder, where are you?"

"In a police station. I've been arrested."

"What happened?" It was a good thing she was sitting. Out
of pretty much everything he could have told her, this was
the furthest from her mind. She could not have been more
shocked if he told her the reason he was late was, because
he went on a quick trip with a few aliens in a UFO. She
was beginning to feel more like his baby-sitter than his
partner. Seemed that lately every time he went off to
investigate on his own, he got into some sort of trouble.
She only hoped she wouldn't eventually have to buy one of
those child leashes for him.

"It's a long story, do you have any law experience?"

"I might have taken one or two courses in college. Why do
you ask?"

"I told them I was calling a lawyer." He heard her audible
sigh over the phone.

"Mulder, that's ridiculous, I'm not a lawyer but I'll find you
one, where are you?"

"The Fifth Precinct, I think the car's in the impound lot."

"Okay, I will be there soon."

"Thanks Scully." He hung up the phone.

She pressed End on her phone.

"What has he done now?" she whispered weakly, then
stood up, and put on her shoes. She grabbed her briefcase,
not sure she would be coming back to the hotel. She then
walked out of the room, shutting the light after her and
locking the door.

5th Precinct
10:45 pm

Scully reached the station, got out of the car, which she had
just freed from the impound lot, and locked the door
behind her. The police station was what she thought it
would look like, most of them looked the same. There were
a few concrete steps up to a door with blue lights on either
side of the stairs When she opened the door she was
facing a very high counter behind which sat a policewoman
in the standard blue uniform worn by all New York City
police.

The front desk cop was about 40 years old, with short
brown hair.

"Yeah?" the cop asked, as Scully neared her.

"I'm looking for a Mr. Adam Carlson, has he arrived yet?"

Lori nodded. "He's in the interrogation room right now,
who are you?"

"Dana Litzen, I'm helping out Mr. Carlson." Adam, an old
school friend of Scully's had agreed to help on short notice
and let her sit in on the questioning. After all, she knew
Mulder a lot better than he did.

"Fine do you have ID?"

"Will a driver's license do?" Scully took out a license she
had made a year or so ago when it seemed that she might
have to assume an alias at some point. The name on the
Virginia license was Dana Litzen.

The cop, whose name was Lori Teller looked over the
license quickly. "Yeah, that's acceptable. Hey Jerry!
Would you take Ms. Litzen here to interrogation room 1?"

"Sure, no problem, Lori " the man said as he walked
towards them.

"Right this way," he said to Scully, leading her down a
hall. They stopped after a few seconds at a door.

"Thanks for your help," Scully called to the man, then
knocked on the door. After a second or two, the door was
opened by a good-looking blonde-haired man. Sitting at
the table was Mulder and Carlson. Scully took a deep
breath and walked into the room.

"Hi, I'm Dana Litzen, Mr. Carlson's assistant for this case."
She held out her hand, the blonde haired man shook it.

"I'm Detective Barrows and this is my partner Detective
Johnson." The blonde said pointing to a dark haired and
well muscled man.

"Detective Johnson."

"Ms. Litzen, we were just about to go over the facts of the
case."

Scully nodded and sat down next to Mulder who looked
very relieved to see her.

Johnson closed the door. "Mr. Garret is accused of
committing six rapes and homicides, all in the Greater
Metropolitan area." He sat down.

Carlson glanced over at Scully, she had told him it would
be at worst an assault charge. This was something a lot
more serious. He straightened out his silk tie and resisted
the urge to smooth down his short auburn hair again. "Do
you have any evidence to support this claim?"

"We do." Johnson played the tape for them. <That sounds
a lot like his voice>, Scully thought as the tape finished.

"Tapes can be altered and voices can be copied, do you
have any other evidence?" Carlson knew that was
circumstantial at best, especially since the man sitting next
to him was supposed to be an FBI agent.

"Yes, this is a picture of Garret." Barrows pulled out the
sheet of white paper. She looked down at the picture, then
looked over at Mulder. The man in the picture looked
exactly like him.

"Detective Barrows, do you have any evidence that places
my client at the scene of the crime?"

Barrows nodded, "Fingerprints, all over the bodies and
victim's possessions, he wasn't very careful."

"Will you excuse me for a moment? I have to make a
phone call." Scully excused herself and stepped out of the
interrogation room. She took her phone out of her
pocketbook and dialed Skinner's number.

The phone rang a few times. "Skinner."

"It's Agent Scully, sir."

"Agent Scully, what can I do for you?"

"Well, sir, Agent Mulder is being held in a police precinct.
The detectives here are claiming he is a criminal named
Robert Garret. I called to let you know."

"I'll see what I can do, Agent Scully."

"Thank you, sir." She hung up.

She put the phone back in her pocket book and re-entered
the room.

FBI Headquarters, Washington D.C.
11:00 pm

Assistant Director Walter Skinner hung up the phone. He
picked up the receiver and called someone saying a few
words.

He hung up the phone. It was 10 pm. He needed to get
home. Laura would be getting worried. She was his live-in
girlfriend, but they barely saw each other. He opened a
drawer and pulled out a bottle of wine. <Laura loves red
wine>, he thought as he stood up, turned off the lights,
walked out of the room and shut the door.

Location Unknown
11:01 pm

The man took another puff of his cigarette and looked over
to the men sitting next to him.

"Phase One is almost complete. Our experiment has
succeeded," he said, then took another drag of his
cigarette.

"When will Phase Two begin?" a man dressed in black
asked.

"Soon." The man snubbed out his cigarette. "First, we
must advise the FBI on what action to take." The man
pulled out a fresh cigarette and lit it.

5th Precinct
11:05 pm

Barrows was pulling out color pictures of the victims.

"This is the first victim," he said emotionlessly. The
woman was covered partly by a sheet, her hands bound
over her head with duct tape. There was a rag in her
mouth. Her upper body was covered with bruises. The
woman's red hair hung limply around her face.

"Alicia Simon, age 32. Cause of death ruled to be
excessive blood loss due to the severing of the carotid
arteries," Barrows continued, reaching into the folder and
pulling out another picture.

"Same victim. This one was taken before the autopsy,"
Barrows said, showing Scully a picture of the same woman,
although this time fully uncovered. The bruising continued
down the whole body.

Scully watched Mulder for a reaction. He dealt with
pictures worse then these on a day to day basis. However,
he had never been accused of the crime before. His eyes
showed the horror he felt. Scully had managed to separate
herself from the pictures and view the crimes at a distance.
It was the first thing she was taught to do. She dealt with
the pictures from a purely medical standpoint. Carlson was
looking at them in a mixture of shock and revulsion.
Scully felt a small tug of guilt, she didn't mean to bring him
into something like this.

"This is the second victim," Barrows pulled out another
picture. "As you can see, it's the same pattern we saw with
the first victim." The woman also had red hair.

Barrows pulled out the pictures of the remaining victims.
They were all in their mid-twenties to thirties. They all had
shoulder length red hair. Those were the only similarities
between them. The women came from varied backgrounds
and had different jobs. There was no link at all between
them. They were random victims.

The pictures covered the wooden table forming a collage of
violence. Scully looked down at the pictures, then over at
Mulder again. His expression had not changed. He was
trying to view the pictures in a purely investigative manner.

"Gentlemen, I think this is all we can accomplish today.
May we continue this tomorrow?" Carlson rubbed his eyes
and stood. "Before we go we need a few minutes alone
with our client."

Barrows glanced over at Johnson. He knew Johnson would
want to be getting home to his wife Page. "Ok, we'll
continue this tomorrow, at 8 am," he said after some
deliberation. Besides, he needed to get to the gym and
work out some anger.

Barrows collected the photos, placing them in the
envelope. The detectives walked out of the room, leaving
Mulder, Carlson and Scully alone.

"Adam, I need to speak to Mulder alone. I'll see you
tomorrow morning." Scully said after a second or two.

"Ok Dana, but I might be a little late, I'm meeting clients at
8 in the office."

"No problem, thank you Adam."

Adam smiled slightly at her and walked out of the room.

When they were alone, Scully waited for an explanation.

"I did not kill those women, Scully. You believe me, don't
you?" he said, looking down at the table. He was afraid to
meet her eyes.

"I don't know what to believe, Mulder," she admitted to
him, looking over his head. She could not meet his eyes.

"Do you think I committed those crimes?" he whispered,
afraid of her answer.

She was quiet for a few seconds. "No, I know you could
never have done it." She shook her head slightly. "We will
sort this whole mess out in the morning. I am sure it is just
a bizarre case of mistaken identity and incredible
coincidences. Besides, Mr. Carlson is a terrific lawyer and
this particular case of his will be over before it begins."
She said with a confidence she did not feel.

He nodded. "I know you're right." He looked up into her
eyes.

"Take care of yourself, I'll see you tomorrow morning."
She stood up and started towards the door.

She was reluctant to leave him there, but she knew he was
capable of handling himself. She looked into his eyes for a
moment and saw what she always did. There was no way
he could have killed those women, it was a mistake and she
was sure of it. She walked out the door and soon was
outside the precinct.

Scully opened the car door. She sat in the driver's seat and
put the key in the ignition. She turned it, and the car
started. A song was starting on the radio. It was not what
she usually listened to, but the words grabbed her.

"Never opened myself this way,
Life is ours we live it our way,
Oh these words I don't just say,
And nothing else matters...
Trust I seek and I find in you,
Everyday for us something new,
Open mind for a different view,
And nothing else matters."

She turned up the volume. The song could have been
written for her and Mulder. It was their partnership. She
could almost imagine him saying the words. Odd, how
things hit you at different times. She leaned against the
door and closed her eyes for a second, the day had worn her
out. At least Adam wasn't going to tell his Ex-wife Carole
that Scully was in town. Something told Scully she
couldn't deal with that at the moment. Carole had gone a
little insane after the divorce and the last thing Scully
needed at the moment was a jealous ex-wife breathing
down her neck. She yawned and closed her eyes again,
she'd drive away in a few minutes.

end part 3

DISORIENTED by FirePhile@aol.com
part 4 - Disclaimers in part 1

5th Precinct
11:30 pm

Mulder was taken from the interrogation room and put into
a holding cell. He was not alone. There were at least five
other people in the cell. He stood far away from the other
prisoners. The other people were dressed in assorted
outfits. He was now wearing the normal prison garb. He
spent the time going over the events that led up to his
incarceration.

Mulder sighed softly and glanced up at the clock, it was
already 12:30. It didn't seem like he had been lost in
thought for a hour, but he had been. The events did not
make any more sense after reviewing them. The thing that
probably hurt the most was Scully thinking it was possible
he had committed the crimes. He thought she trusted him
more than that. He sat down and tried to sleep sitting up.
He was an insomniac, so he could not fall asleep. It was
not the first night he had spent in a jail cell. Actually, it
was his third. The first time was after an incredibly
embarrassing experience in Oxford he tried to not think
about. The second time was when a cop who hated him in
Atlantic City put him in the drunk tank. He leaned his head
against the bars again and tried to think of a way out of the
situation.

March 22
7:35 am

Scully awoke and grabbed her head. She cursed silently,
one minute had turned into all night. She had been too
tired. The worst thing was the wasted hotel room. Howard
Stern was blaring from the radio. Scully turned the car off
and looked in the mirror. Her eyes wouldn't stay open so
she shook her head a little, hoping to jar herself out of
sleep. It worked and she was soon wide awake. The only
problem was the outfit she was wearing. She decided that
the detectives would not care what she was dressed like,
but Mulder would definitely be surprised. It was very
unlike her to wear the same outfit two days in a row. She
took a lipstick out of her pocketbook and put it on. She
also ran a brush through her hair.

She opened the car door and stepped out. She locked the
door, then headed for a nearby coffee shop. The one thing
she needed more than anything else was a cup of coffee.

About 15 minutes later Scully stepped into the precinct,
energized by her cup of coffee and danish. Adam wouldn't
arrive till much later, she was on her own. As she walked
in, her cellular phone rang. She opened her pocket book
and answered the phone.

"Scully."

"Agent Scully, this is Skinner." She immediately stepped
out of the precinct and stood on the steps.

"Yes, sir?"

"I think I might have found an answer."

"What?"

"The name Robert Garret sounded familiar to me, so I
checked the files. Turns out that one of Agent Mulder's
earlier cases was a serial killer named Robert Garret. He
attacked women in their 20's and 30's who were white and
petite. Their professions ranged from doctor to housewife.
Agent Mulder worked on the profile and got into Garret's
head. The FBI caught Garret when he was about to kill his
seventh victim. Agent Mulder was the one who shot him,
but he couldn't quite get Garret out of his mind. He
suffered from horrible dreams for a few nights and started
acting a bit strangely. He was put on a one week vacation,
visited a psychologist one time and went back to work. Of
course, there is no mention of that last part in the file."

"Why is there no mention of it, sir?"

"The diagnosis was that it was caused by extreme stress
and guilt from killing another person, even someone like
Garret. It was a one time occurrence and I did not want to
lose a good agent over it."

She considered this bit of news. It was hard to swallow.
"Does Mulder remember any of this?"

He cleared his throat. "The psychologist thought it was
best that he forget it, considering the circumstances. He
was hypnotized and should remember nothing about the
case at all. It was completely wiped from his memory."

She closed her eyes for a second. "If there is no mention of
it and Mulder doesn't remember it, how am I supposed to
know you're telling the truth?"

"You're just going to have to trust me Scully. My best
guess is Garret's thoughts never left Mulder and have been
in remission this entire time. They must now have
manifested themselves as another personality, another side
of Mulder no one knew existed. I'm sorry to bring bad
news."

She leaned against the building slightly, trying to steady
herself. She took a few deep breaths, literally speechless.
There was a very long pause in the conversation. "I don't
believe it sir." she practically whispered into the phone.

"Again, I'm sorry that I cannot help you further. This is out
of my hands now Scully. I hope I'm wrong," he said with
reluctance and a little sadness.

"So do I sir, so do I." She sighed and closed her eyes again,
trying to stop the headache that was starting to form. She
felt the blood pump behind her eyes and in her forehead. "I
have to go see Mulder now, I don't know what to tell him. I
have to go now."

"Tell him whatever you want, Agent Scully."

She pressed End on the phone, her mind swimming with
the new information. <Skinner's lying to me. Mulder is not
responsible for these crimes. There is another explanation
and I will find it>.

She walked up the stairs and stepped back into the precinct.
She was infused with a purpose. She had to prove Skinner
wrong.

FBI Headquarters, Washington DC
8:10 am

Skinner hung up the phone, trying to keep his anger
suppressed. He heard Scully's disbelief through the phone.
He heard the shock in her voice. He only hoped she did not
trust him. The one thing that made the day even a little
tolerable was the memory of Laura the night before. She
did not mind that he was late. He did bring wine after all.
He smiled remembering what she wore and how she'd
rubbed his bald head. She spoke of how muscular his body
was and all the things she wanted to do with it. He quickly
shook his head to clear the thoughts. He had work to do
and could not be bothered with memories, no matter how
terrific.

With reluctance, he dialed a phone number. Someone
answered.

"I told her."

"Good. Good, did she believe you?"

Skinner debated about what to say. "She accepted the
information."

"We'll make her believe it." It was all the man said. He
hung up.

Skinner hung up and looked around. He'd asked for the
responsibility. He thought he'd asked for the power. He
did not realize how little power he would actually have. He
sighed and wondered why he even helped them. It was
then he realized he had no choice in the matter. Still, he
hated how they destroyed lives.

8:10 am

Before she met with the detectives, Scully realized she had
to speak to Mulder. She was led to his cell and the guard
opened the door. She thanked the guard and he left.
Mulder sat up, now dressed in a prison jumpsuit and waited
for her to speak.

"I talked to Skinner a few minute ago."

"What did he say?"

She thought for a few moments about how to tell him. "He
said earlier in your career you shot and killed a serial killer
and rapist named Robert Garret before he was able to kill
another victim.

Mulder thought for a few seconds, the name did not sound
familiar to him at all. He had no recollection of the case,
which was odd because he usually had an eidelic memory.
He could sense that she as hiding something from him.
"What else did he say?"

She looked a spot above his head and spoke slowly. "He
said you acted strangely after that, Mulder, he believes..."
She stopped for a second, the next part was hard to say. "He
believes you have another personality, that you could have
committed these crimes...," she trailed off, still looking
away from him.

It took a few moments for the meaning of her words to seep
in. Mulder couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"He believes I have a what?" He practically jumped off of
his cot, his voice a sharp whisper. "I've never worked on a
case against anyone named Robert Garret, never killed
anyone by that name, I have no memories of anything even
involving him."

"That's what Skinner said you would say. He claims that
you were hypnotized to forget it."

"But Scully, I'd have some memory of it, something..." He
was confused and started thinking back over all of his
cases. At that moment, a guard walked over to the cell.

"Ms Litzen? Detective Barrows wants to see you." The
guard whispered to her. Scully nodded.

"I'll talk to you later," She told Mulder before exiting the
cell. Mulder was still deep in thought.

Scully walked back to the interrogation room and went
inside. Detective Barrows and a videotape machine were
waiting for her.

"Morning Detective Barrows," Scully sat down.

"Good morning, Ms. Litzen," Barrows said, placing a file
on the table.

"Where is Detective Johnson?" Scully asked, noticing that
someone was absent.

"He did not feel well today. I can handle this myself."
Barrows sat down across from Scully.

He glanced around suddenly, "I could ask you the same
question, where is Mr. Carlson?"

"Oh, he'll be here later, he asked me to handle this for him.
He's meeting a client."

Barrows nodded and wasted no time, immediately opening
the file and taking something out.

"What is this?" Scully asked picking up the piece of paper.

"Look at it," Barrows answered, flipping through the file.

Scully glanced down at the paper. It was a police report.

"Teresa Owens," Scully read aloud. "Was she a witness to
one of the crimes?"

"No, she was almost the seventh victim. We got the call
from her at 3:21 am, March 21st. She had some bruises
and was pretty shaken up. She gave us a statement
yesterday morning. This is a videotape of that."

<Mulder was up here that night>.... She ignored the inner
voice and waited for the tape to start. Unfortunately, the
voice kept talking, <Garret didn't get to kill a seventh
victim either>. Sometimes she really hated that inner
voice.

Barrows turned on the tape. A young woman with a short
ponytail and a bruised face appeared on the screen.

"Thank you for coming, Ms. Owens. My name is Detective
Johnson and next to me is my partner Detective Barrows."
Johnson's voice could be heard.

"Hello," Teresa said softly, obviously shaken.

"Could you please tell us what happened the night of
March 20th and the early morning of the 21st, Ms.
Owens?" Barrows's voice asked, only the woman was
visible.

Teresa nodded slightly. "I was waiting for a date at a
restaurant. He was about an hour late, I had been stood
up."

"When did you first meet Robert Garret?" Barrows asked.

"He walked over to me. I must admit I was immediately
attracted to him. He was one of the best looking men I have
ever seen," Teresa said bitterly.

"What happened next?" Barrows asked gently.

"He asked what my name was. I told him, and we talked for
a little bit. And then he suggested we go somewhere else."

"And you went?" Barrows asked.

Teresa nodded, "As I told you, I was attracted to him."

"Where did you two go?" Barrows asked, realizing how
hard it was for Teresa to recount the events.

"We drove into Central Park."

"Do you remember the car?" Johnson interjected.

"Not really, but I'm almost positive it was grey. Cars have
always looked alike to me," Teresa said apologetically.

"It's ok, go on," Barrows said gently.

"We drove deep into Central Park, then he suggested we go
for a walk."

"Didn't you think that odd?" Johnson asked.

"No, I've walked through Central Park many times before
with other guys, but I was a little frightened."

"Why?" Barrows asked, trying to understand Ms. Owens.

"I was afraid that someone would rob us or something. It
was around 11:30 at night."

"Ok, what happened next?" Johnson asked gently.

"We walked for about an hour. He did not really say much,
but held onto my hand tightly. I had no idea where we
were."

"Could you have gotten away then?" Barrows asked.

"No, he was too strong."

"What happened next?" Johnson asked, even though he
realized it was something he'd already said.

"We reached a clearing. It seemed like it was miles from
civilization. It was then I started to get nervous."

"Why?" Barrows asked one more time.

"He was not calling me Teresa anymore."

"What was he calling you?"

Teresa glanced around before answering. "I am not
entirely sure, but I think he was calling me Scully."

Scully looked at the screen quickly, realizing for the first
time why all the victims were in their 20's to 30's, short,
and with shoulder length red hair. They all could be her.
She wondered why she had not seen it before. A chill ran
down her spine, this was not a case of mistaken identity.
<God, could Skinner be right? Does Mulder want to do
those things to me? Does he really have another
personality?> Her mind raced as she struggled to hide her
feelings. She wished that Adam would suddenly walk in so
that she wouldn't have to face Mulder alone after this.

"What did he do next?" Barrows asked.

"He grabbed my shoulders roughly and pulled me close to
him. He whispered something into my ear."

"What did he whisper?" Johnson asked. Scully was afraid
of the answer, but she had to know. She stayed as calm as
possible but couldn't help looking at Teresa and picturing
herself.

Teresa looked off to the side, most likely at one of the
detectives. "He said..." Her eyes started to fill with tears.
"He said, 'I hope Kevin made you believe in God again,
Scully.' He then punched me in the right eye, forcing me
down to the ground. He punched me in the mouth, cutting
my lip, but luckily not making me lose any teeth..." Her
words were running together.

"What did you do then?" Barrows asked.

That last bit of information terrified Scully. <Kevin...few
people know about Kevin..even less knew about my
waning faith...oh God...oh God...it's possible..he could have
this other personality...this could have been me..> Her
thoughts were anything but scientific, her trust was waning.

"He was holding down my arms. I tried to fight him but
failed. He took out a small pocket knife and started cutting
off my clothes..."

"How did you escape?" Johnson asked, wondering how she
was still alive.

"He suddenly started sobbing. As if he had come out of a
trance or something. He got off me quickly and looked
down at his own hands in horror. I ran away from him as
fast as I could." Teresa took a deep breath and sat back in
the chair. Mercifully, that was the end of the tape and
Barrows turned it off.

"What do you have to say about that, Ms. Litzen?"

"Would you excuse me for a moment?" Scully stood up
and walked out of the room. She found the nearest
bathroom and took a few deep breaths once she was inside.

She looked into the mirror, amazed at how poised she
appeared, while she was falling apart inside. Her mind
raced with unanswered questions and even worse,
answered questions that were almost too horrible to
contemplate. She took another deep breath and let it out
slowly. She tried to remember the breathing exercises
Missy had taught her a year or so before. She breathed in
and out, in and out, controlling her breathing, trying to
reach a state of relaxation. She turned on the faucet and
splashed cold water on her face, but it did not make her
feel any better. She went over to the hand dryers and
quickly dried her face. She took another quick look at the
mirror and felt ready to face Barrows again. However, she
was unsure of how she would stay cool once Mulder
re-entered the room. <You can do this Dana, you've been
through worse, just take another second to compose
yourself and then go back>.

end part 4

DISORIENTED by FirePhile@aol.com
part 5 - Disclaimers in part 1

"Are you ok Ms. Litzen?" Barrows asked when she
re-entered the room.

"I'm fine." She sat down.

"I think your client should see this tape."

She nodded slightly, Mulder should see the tape.

Barrows called down for him to be brought up. A minute
later, Mulder entered the room. He was a little nervous
about what had just happened. Scully's eyes were cold,
unfeeling, a look that did not bode well for him.

"Have you ever met a Teresa Owens?" Barrows asked,
when the door was closed.

Mulder glanced over at Scully. "No, I have never met
anyone by that name."

"Here's a little statement she gave. Any of these events
sound familiar?" Barrows pressed play on the tape
machine.

After a few seconds of static a woman could easily be seen
and heard. Mulder listened in silence until Teresa said "I
am not entirely sure, but I think he was calling me Scully."

Mulder almost jumped up at that point, but realized it
would be a bad idea. <What if it's possible? What if I am
Garret? How could I do that to her? How could I do that
to anyone? Who else would know about these things?> He
thought for a few seconds and his thoughts were altogether
different. <What if it was someone pretending to be me?
All those women, they could all be Scully. I know where I
was March 21st and it certainly was not with Teresa
Owens. Something wrong and insidious is going on and
whatever it is has killed six women>.

The tape ended. "Well Garret, I don't know who this Scully
is, but obviously you are pretty angry at her for something."
Barrows ejected the tape and placed it in an envelope.

Mulder speechless, had no idea how to answer. Luckily,
Scully answered for him.

"Detective Barrows, in light of this recent information, I
need some time alone with my client."

"Ok, Ms. Litzen. But, I'm a little nervous about leaving
you alone with such a dangerous criminal."

She glanced over at Mulder. "I'll take my chances."

Barrows shrugged and exited the room.

Once alone with him, she had no idea what to say. Her
words would have to be chosen very carefully. She stood,
folded her arms across her chest and stared at a blank wall
for the longest time.

"I don't know what to think, I really don't. On the one hand
you're my partner, someone who I've come to trust more
than any other. I want to believe in your innocence. On
the other, is all this damning evidence, no longer
circumstantial. Teresa's testimony made it quite clear this
is no longer a case of mistaken identity. What if Skinner's
right? What if you're Robert Garret?" She was silent,
trying to get the next sentence out. "What if you're guilty?"
She whispered to the wall, but Mulder heard just the same.

He sat silent, unable to speak. She doubted him and he felt
the full impact of what that meant.

She didn't turn around to face him, just tried to work out
the events in her mind, trying to come up with a rational
explanation. It was impossible, certain facts were difficult
to ignore and one question kept nagging at her, <If Mulder
didn't commit these crimes than who did?> She had no
answer.

"There's a logical explanation for all of this Scully."

She turned around to face him and put her hands on her
hips. "Really Mulder? You saw the tape as well as I did,
what that woman went though. You've also been ID'd by
other people and I might mention your fingerprints were
found all over the victim's belongings and bodies."

"I'm being framed. Someone's been made to look like me
and programmed to commit these crimes."

She shook her head in disgust. "No one is going to believe
that. It's paranoid, insane, if you tell something like that to
the judge he'll put you in mental institution or just throw
you right into jail. You've really done it this time Mulder.
I don't know if there's a way to fix this situation..." Scully's
phone rang.

"Scully. Adam, where are you...Ok...no I
understand...yes...of course... well I appreciate your
help....bye."

"That was Adam, he can't take the case. I'll try to find
another lawyer quickly. I've got to go and look now, maybe
ask around at the restaurant where Teresa Owens claims to
have met Garret."

He bowed his head in defeat. "All I can ask is that you
believe in me and find the truth."

Scully nodded slightly and picked up her briefcase. <But
what if the truth is that you did it?> She didn't even want
to think of that.

She exited the room without looking back and ran into
Detective Barrows on her way out.

"Mr. Carlson will not be representing Garret anymore."

"Why not?"

"Garret just fired us." It was as good a reason as any, and
Scully soon found herself outside. She took another deep
breath and walked to the car. She looked up and realized
it was starting to rain. It was going to be a very long day.

11:00 am
Location Unknown

The rain was coming down harder. It started as a light
shower and gradually worked its way up to a storm. Old
fall leaves that had not been raked away scattered along the
sidewalk and swirled in the air. The man lying on the
king-sized bed opened his eyes. He hated mornings more
than anything else, but his employers insisted he be there
earlier than usual today. He pushed back the red comforter
and swung his long legs over the side of the bed. He tried
unsuccessfully to stand. It took about five tries before he
could make his way into the bathroom. He reached into the
glass encased shower and turned on the water as hot as he
could make it. After a minute or so, he turned the faucet
until it was just the right temperature. He quickly
undressed and stepped into the shower.

After five or ten minutes, he stepped out and wrapped a
towel around his waist. The hotel he was staying at was
deluxe. There was a razor and a can of shaving cream in
the drawer. He lathered his face and expertly shaved
himself. The hotel supplied a bathrobe, so he put it on
before re-entering the main room. Over the dresser was a
mirror. The man admired his reflection. He wished he
could get a nose job, but that would destroy his purpose.
He hated having dark hair, always wanted to be a blonde,
well that would have to wait until his assignment was over.

He walked over to the closet and opened it up. There were
at least 10 new suits inside. They had taken care of him
well. After careful deliberation, he chose a charcoal grey
Calvin Klein suit. He looked at the tie rack for a tie.
Almost all the ties were horrid, but he had an image to
keep.

He quickly dressed and looked at himself in the mirror
before leaving. He checked to make sure the suit was
perfectly creased and that the tie was just where it should
be. He had to admit he was a handsome man. The
beautiful desk clerks certainly thought so. Too bad none of
them were his type. He checked his watch. It was
11:30am. It was time to go meet with the bosses. He left
the room, making sure to take his key, and smiled at the
women on his way out of the hotel. They smiled back.

Office Building
11:45 am

The man stepped into a mirrored building. Most of the
people in the building were dressed in normal business
clothes. There was an insurance company that owned the
first eleven floors.

The man made his way to an empty elevator and quickly
closed the door before anyone else could barge their way
in. He took out a small key card and swiped it through a
small slot. He entered the secret code. When he heard a
beep, the elevator started to move. It went quickly to its
destination. The doors opened. Unlike all other levels of
the building, he did not hear an electronic voice telling him
he had reached his destination. The hallway in front of him
was covered by a very plush, expensive, blood red carpet.
The walls were colored royal blue. There were only two
doors in the hallway. The man took a different key card
out and held it up to a sophisticated security system. He
punched in another number code. A fingerprint
identification plate came out of the door. He placed his
thumb on it and the machine accepted him. He could now
knock on the door without fear of being electrocuted by it.
The wood was only a thin veneer. The door was actually
thick metal that had electrical current running through it.
The occupants of the room did not take kindly to strangers
bothering them.

He rapped his knuckles against the door twice. After a
minute or so, the door was opened. A woman stood in the
doorway. It did not surprise him that she was there. She
was one of the cruelest and most beautiful women he had
ever met. Her face lit up for a moment with joy, but she
quickly hid it. She stood about 5'10", and had golden
blonde hair worn in a loosely wrapped bun. Her suit was
black with a high cut. The black slacks fell to just above
the ankle, where they were met with high black heels and a
little bit of pantyhose. The suit fell seductively over her
slim body, and it did little to hide her curves, although she
obviously was trying to play down her femininity. The
only bit of color on her was red lipstick. Her green eyes
were not marred by mascara or eyeshadow, and she wore
no blush. Even her hands were covered by black leather
gloves.

"I'll go tell him you're here." She walked off to announce
his arrival. After a few seconds he was invited in. The
room had a bar with a tuxedoed bartender and soft black
leather chairs. The man was invited to sit down. He did.

"Do you know why you've been asked to come?" an elderly
thin man asked. He had a slight English accent. His suit
and everything about him was impeccable.

"No," the man said. The woman sat down next to him. She
looked over at the elderly man who nodded at her.

"We are almost ready for Phase Two," the woman said.
She reached into the black attache case near her feet and
pulled out a brown folder. "Here is what we need you to
do." She handed the folder to the man.

The man gently took the folder and opened it up. He
almost smiled at what he saw inside. "It will all be taken
care of afterwards?"

The woman nodded.

The man stood up and walked out of the room.

Americana Restaurant
12:00 pm.

Scully stopped the car. Americana was one of those theme
restaurants, the kind where memorabilia were plastered all
over the walls. She stepped out of the car and went inside.
On the few walls she could see from the waiting area, she
made out the faces of J. Edgar Hoover, John F. Kennedy,
both Roosevelts; a few advertisements, and entertainment
news. It was like the Hard Rock Cafe, Planet Hollywood,
and the Smithsonian all rolled into one. Families, friends,
business men, local workers, and students all packed the
large restaurant. She walked over to the bar. Luckily, not
that many people were drinking, so she could talk with the
bartender for a little bit.

The bartender was a young man. He was a few pounds
overweight. His skin was dark and he was about 5'5". He
smiled at the customers, while he served them their drinks.

"Can I get you anything?" the man asked, while dispensing
a Coke.

"No thank you. I'm Special Agent Dana Scully, FBI and I'd
like to ask you a few questions." She calmly took her ID
out of a pocket and flipped it open. She let the bartender
look at it for a few seconds, then put it away.

"Sure, no problem. I have a few minutes. I'm Matt
Darren." Matt wiped his hands on a nearby towel.

"Were you bartending here on the night of March 20th, Mr.
Darren?"

"No, I'm only the daytime bartender."

"Is there any way I can get in touch with the bartender who
handles the evening shift?"

"Sure, just wait a second while I get his number." Matt
turned and reached under the bar. When he came back, he
handed the piece of paper to Scully. "Here's where he can
be reached."

"Thank you for your time Mr. Darren."

"You're welcome Agent Scully." Matt turned back to help
some customers with their drinks. Scully walked out of the
restaurant. She did not like those kind of restaurants. They
all seemed too fake, too put together. She liked little out of
the way places that had a quiet ambiance. However,
Mulder loved restaurants that were like Americana.

She looked at the number Mr. Darren had given her. The
name of the night bartender was Daniel Barker. She
unlocked her car and stepped in, grabbed her cellular phone
out of the glove compartment and dialed Barker's number.

The phone rang for about thirty seconds before a sleep
ravaged voice answered. "Hello?"

"Mr. Barker?"

"Yes?" He was obviously trying to place the voice.

"Hello, I'm Agent Dana Scully, FBI."

"What does the FBI want with me?" Barker started to get a
little anxiety in his voice.

"Relax, Mr. Barker. I would just like to ask you a few
questions about a crime that was committed a few days
ago."

"Oh, all right then." His voice became noticeably calmer.
After all, he hadn't done anything in years.

"Were you bartending at Americana on the night of March
20th? It was a Wednesday."

"Yes I was."

"Do you remember the faces of people that come into the
restaurant?"

Scully heard him laughing. "There are so many people that
come into that restaurant. It's very hard to remember
faces."

"I understand Mr. Barker, but do you remember a man who
came into the bar about 6'1, in height, with a lanky frame,
bushy brown hair and hazel eyes?"

Barker paused for a minute or two, he still had a slight
hangover. "Yeah, I believe that description sounds
familiar. Can you tell me anything else about this man?"

"He was seen talking with a woman about 5'4" with short
red hair."

"Yeah, I remember him. What about him?" He was now
fully awake.

"Do you remember what he ordered to drink?"

"You must think I have a pretty good memory. No, I don't
remember what he drank. You're lucky I remember him at
all." He was laughing slightly.

"Did you hear him say anything in the bar?"

He was quiet again, deep in thought. "No, he talked in low
whispers to the redhead. Sorry I can't help you more. I just
don't remember anything more about him."

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Barker. I'll let you go back
to sleep now." She had learned absolutely nothing from
talking with Mr. Barker. It was a waste of time. She'd
come to a dead end. There was something she was not
seeing, but what was it? She could not figure it out. It was
then she realized the answers were not in NY but back in
DC. She knew she had to go back to headquarters, maybe
get some information. However, she didn't want to return
to headquarters without Mulder, so she was stuck in NY
until she found evidence to clear him, or convict him.

It was then she remembered her best friend Ellen moved up
to NYC a little over a year ago - God, it must have been
about half a year since she last spoke to her. The last time
she saw her was before Deep Throat was killed. Scully
knew she was being a pretty horrible friend, but the cases
had taken up so much of her time. She had very little time
for a personal life, at least when a partner like Mulder was
prone to go off on his own and almost always wound up in
a hospital when he did. She pulled her address book from
her briefcase. She always carried it around with her, never
knowing when it would come in handy. Ellen's apartment,
according to her address book, was only a few blocks from
the restaurant. She made up her mind to go visit Ellen.
Mulder was in jail. He was safe for the time being.

end part 5

From firephile@aol.com Tue Oct 07 14:02:48 1997
Subject: Disoriented by FirePhile (6/9)
From: firephile@aol.com (FirePhile)
Date: 7 Oct 1997 18:02:48 GMT

DISORIENTED by FirePhile@aol.com
part 6 - Disclaimers in part 1

Ellen's Apartment
1:00 pm

Scully had been debating with herself for the last five
minutes. She knew ringing the doorbell would be a good
idea. However, she was beginning to think that even
coming to the door was a mistake.

<This is ridiculous Dana. You've faced monsters, aliens,
psychopaths, and you can't even face your best friend?>
She mentally admonished herself. So she swallowed all
hesitation and pressed the doorbell.

"Mom! Someone's at the door!" a young voice yelled from
inside.

"I'll be there in a minute!" a woman's voice yelled back.

Scully could hear the noise of someone running. The door
opened. The woman was a little taller than Scully with
shoulder length brown hair. She was a little thinner than
Scully remembered her and a tiny bit older. She seemed
more than a little surprised to see Scully in front of her.

"Dana?" Ellen questioned.

Scully nodded, "Hi El," she smiled.

Ellen reached out and hugged her friend tightly, smiling.

"What are you doing here? I haven't heard from you in a
while."

"I was here unexpectedly and wanted to surprise you."

"Well, you certainly did. Come on in." Scully walked
through the doorway. The apartment was large. It
consisted of at least seven rooms. The living room was
decorated tastefully and was the first thing Scully saw
when she walked into the house. A young boy with curly,
light brown hair was sitting on the carpet watching
television. The boy recognized Scully and ran to her.

"Hi Trent!" Scully said hugging the boy and tousling his
hair. Trent then went back to watching television.

Scully and Ellen walked into the kitchen. Ellen turned on a
coffee maker. They both sat in comfortable brown chairs
at the kitchen table.

"You look different, Dana," Ellen stated. She noticed her
friend was pale, less alive than she remembered her, and
sadder than she'd ever seen her.

"I am different," Scully answered.

"You sounded fine on the phone and in the letters," Ellen
said compassionately.

"I lied. I didn't really tell you what was going on," Scully
said, not looking at her friend.

Ellen was taken slightly aback by this information. "What's
happened to you?"

Scully took a deep breath. She didn't tell her friend the
truth before about her life because, she could not handle
the retelling. It was easier to lie, something which made her
feel awful. Now, she was sitting in Ellen's kitchen. She
did not have to worry about what she would think of her.
She was her best friend. She would understand. She did
not have to control her emotions around her either. She
had seen her at her worst times.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" Ellen asked suddenly.
Scully nodded and Ellen got up to fix two cups. She came
back a minute or so later with two steaming mugs. Ellen
placed one mug in front of Scully and placed the other one
in front of herself.

"It all started after you left..." Scully began. Over the next
couple of hours, she re-told everything that happened to her
over the past few years. Ellen listened with a mixture of
compassion, sadness and horror. She could not believe
everything her friend had been through. Scully had never
told anyone everything that happened to her like she was
telling Ellen. At the end of her story, she was shocked to
find herself sobbing. Ellen was sobbing also, feeling
incredibly deep pain for her best friend. They hugged
again. Scully felt a sense of relief come over her. It was a
release of her pain.

"Oh my God, Dana..." Ellen was at a loss for words.

"I feel better after telling you El." Scully wiped away a few
tears and took a sip of coffee, which had long ago turned
cold.

"I can't believe all that's happened to you..." Ellen was still
in shock.

"Sometimes I feel like the put-upon heroine of a soap
opera," Scully admitted.

"You're such a strong person. I could never have handled
all that. I would have cracked." Ellen covered Scully's
hand with hers.

"I had no choice El. I couldn't break down. I had to stay
sane. I had to be resilient."

"For yourself?"

"After Melissa's death, I had to be sane for Mom. I had to
be the strong one."

"And after your brush with death?"

"I remembered nothing. I just wanted to put it behind me."
Scully's eyes took on a hard look.

Ellen recognized the look and backed off.

"So, how is Trent doing?" Scully forced herself to smile.
She wanted to change the subject quickly.

"Oh, he's fine. Got into that school I was telling you
about." Ellen brightened up for Scully's benefit.

"Why isn't he in school today?"

"He has off all this week. It's mid-winter break." Ellen
stood up to dump out her coffee.

"That's good. How's Andrew?" Scully was referring to
Ellen's husband Dr. Andrew Specks.

"Oh, he's fine too." She smiled as she reached into the
refrigerator to get a snack for Trent.

"Want an apple, Trent?" Ellen called out to her son.

"No! I want cookies!" Trent yelled back. Ellen
instinctively reached for a container of milk. "Would you
grab some cookies from the cabinet, Dana?" Ellen asked
Scully.

"Sure." Scully stood up and opened up a cabinet. She was
lucky. It was the snack one. She reached for a bag of
Chips Ahoy and took a few cookies out. Ellen had already
placed a plate on the counter, so Scully placed about five
cookies on the plate.

While Scully did that, Ellen poured milk into a tall glass.
"Snack's ready, Trent!" she screamed into the living room.
A few seconds later Trent bounded in, grabbed the cookies
and milk, said a quick thank you, and went back to
watching TV.

"So you didn't tell me what brings you to NY. Is it a new
case?" Ellen put the milk away.

Scully took another cookie out of the bag. "Yeah, it's a
new case." She nibbled on the cookie.

"What is it about? Can you tell me?"

"It's sort of complicated. It has something to do with the
murder of a young woman under bizarre circumstances."
Scully bit into the cookie and chewed.

"Shouldn't you be investigating?"

"I've sort of run into a dead end. Besides, I'm leaving
tomorrow. I only hope Mulder will be ok in jail." Scully
finished off the cookie quickly.

"In jail?" Ellen's ears perked up.

"I shouldn't have said that. It just came out. Yes, in jail.
It's a long and complicated story, which I don't feel like
discussing now. The NYC police think he's a serial killer
who has murdered six women."

Ellen walked over to Scully. "Oh my God, is he?"

Scully debated with herself for a couple of seconds, then
reached down to get another cookie. She was always
amazed at her friend's ability to ask questions point blank
and get to the heart of a situation.

"I don't know, the victims, the testimony...I really don't
know." Scully bit into and finished the second cookie.

"What about the victims Dana?"

Scully took a deep breath. "El, the only surviving victim
gave a statement. The man who attacked her, the man who
looked and sounded just like Mulder, was calling her
Scully. The killer said something to this woman that only
Mulder could have known. The detectives played a tape of
the killer's voice. It was his voice, I'd know that voice
anywhere. I've heard it so often." Scully sat down at the
table and sighed. "As much as I don't want to believe it, I
can think of no one else who could be responsible." She
wrapped her hands around the cold cup of coffee. The mug
felt comforting for some reason.

5th precinct
5:00 pm

Lori Teller noticed the couple enter. The man was tall and
wore a grey suit. He had on dark sunglasses, a black
trenchcoat, and a black hat. The woman with him was tall
also. She was wearing a black pants suit. Her blonde hair
was in a tight french braid. Lori couldn't stop staring at the
man and assumed that the blonde woman was his girlfriend
or something.

"Hello, we are here to see Mr. Garret," the man said with a
light southern accent.

"Who are you?"

"I'm his new lawyer."

"Who is she?"

"She's my assistant."

Lori turned to talk to Jerry. "More visitors for Garret." She
whispered.

"I'll take them back to the holding pen." Jerry whispered
back. He then turned to the couple. "If you'll follow me."
They were led through a series of gates with bars until they
reached Mulder's cell. This was only a temporary holding
pen. Mulder glanced at couple quickly. He had never seen
them before in his life. The man looked oddly familiar,
though.

"Who are you?" Mulder asked standing near the door.

The man smiled and took off his sunglasses. The woman
walked up to Mulder and jabbed him with a hypodermic
needle. Mulder felt a numbness spreading through his
body. It started at his leg where he was stabbed and spread
throughout his body. He fell down like a dead weight.
"Have a nice sleep Agent Mulder," the man said. Mulder
could have replied, but he realized as the man's face came
closer, that he was looking into a mirror. He was too
shocked to say anything and as he fell into darkness he
thought that he might never wake up.

"Ok, lets hurry up and switch your outfits," the woman said
as she undressed the unconscious Mulder. The man agreed
and the outfits were quickly exchanged.

"Can you hold him up?"

"No problem," the woman said. She put the sunglasses,
trenchcoat, and hat on Mulder. She then draped one of his
arms around her neck and held him up around the waist.
She knocked on the bars of the cell a few times. A guard
came a few seconds later.

"What happened?" the guard asked as he took in the scene.

"My associate fainted. He forgot to take his medicine
today. I just have to bring him to the car." The woman
stated, trying to keep Mulder up.

"I'll help you." The guard said and grabbed an arm. The
combined strength of the guard and the woman was enough
to bring Mulder to the car.

"Thank you so much for your help. Peter just needs his
medicine." She smiled motioning towards Mulder.

"You're welcome." the guard said, smitten with the
beautiful woman.

The woman got Mulder into the car, sat him in the front,
and put a seatbelt on him. She waved to the guard and
drove away. Her smile disappeared quickly, and she
returned to her cool exterior. His head was rolling to the
right side. The woman hoped the numbing effects of the
designer drug known only as AT481B wore off soon. The
drug's creator had promised that they would only last for a
half-hour or so. The main purpose of the drug was the lack
of resistance it offered. Somehow, the drug caused people
to lose any resistance they had to anything. They became
lambs to the slaughter, so to speak. All thoughts of escape
vanished. Of course, those were weak people. She only
hoped it worked the same way on him.

She hoped the numbness lasted until they were at their
destination. She was unsure how he would react to his new
situation. According to at least five different people, he
would either start screaming, try to break down the door,
try to make her lose control of the car, sit in shock, or kill
her. Usually she drove with the people she kidnapped in
the trunk. She could not put him in the trunk though. That
would be incredibly suspicious. Driving next to him was
making her anxious for some reason. To get rid of her ever
rising anxiety, she flipped on the radio. The station was
classical and the woman let her fear float away with "Swan
Lake".

As a kid, she had wanted to be a ballerina, and she had
performed a solo to "Swan Lake" at her dance class recital.
The teacher said the girl was talented. The girl was
flattered, but now as a grown woman she realized that had
been a lie. Time and circumstances had made her cynical.
Most would call her heartless. She did not really care.
After all, she was good at what she did. One of the best
actually, and one of the few women allowed into the
organization. Unlike most women, she never gossiped and
would never tell the secrets that she knew. She could also
commit horrible acts and be witness to horrible acts
without the least bit of guilt or conscience. She knew the
difference between right and wrong. She just chose to
ignore it. She looked down the road and hoped she reached
her destination soon. But first, she had a phone call to
make.

She took out a cellular phone and dialed a familiar number.

"The switch has been made, onto Phase Two," she said into
the phone and hung up. The man who answered it knew
exactly what it meant. She called the shots and she was
ready to go ahead with the plan.

end part 6

DISORIENTED by FirePhile@aol.com
part 7 - Disclaimers in part 1

Ellen's Apartment
12:00 am

Ellen had insisted that Scully spend the night. She would
have stayed anyway, because she was too tired to drive.
She lay in a beautiful guest bed. She was watching a
movie, although she was so tired that following the plot
was almost impossible. Her physical state was one where
lights seemed brighter and sound seemed louder. It felt
like a hangover, although she'd had nothing to drink. Her
body seemed to be pushing into the bed, as if hundreds of
little hands were holding her down. When she closed her
eyes she felt like she was falling and had to open them
again quickly. After a few minutes of peaceful breathing,
she closed her eyes again. At least she knew she would not
be awakened by any late night phone calls or knocks on the
door. Thinking this, she fell asleep.

March 23
5th Precinct
10:00 am

Scully had said goodbye to Ellen an hour before. She
promised to tell Ellen the truth about her life from now on.
It was a promise she was not entirely sure she could keep.
She was stopping by the station to say goodbye to Mulder
and perhaps to figure out a way to free him.

"What are you doing here Ms. Litzen?" Barrows asked
stepping up to her as she walked through the doors. She
could detect sarcasm in his voice.

"I wanted to find out when the bodies were discovered and
the date of death placed on each of them.." She answered
calmly.

"But you're not involved in this case anymore."

"That is true, but I am a Federal Agent. Special Agent
Dana Scully, FBI." She showed him her badge and then
pocketed it.

"So what does the FBI have to do with this?"

"The man you are keeping as Robert Garret is actually my
partner Special Agent Fox Mulder."

"You could be working with Garret, how do I know you're
telling me the truth?"

"The NY Field office will confirm my identity."

Barrows turned and called up the NY Field office, they
backed up her story.

"Ok." Barrows said reluctantly. He balled up his fists and
clenched his fingernails into his palms. The man he was
holding was most likely not Garret, but he looked so much
like him. He even had Garret's voice. Barrows picked up
the file and thumbed through it. He found the information
Scully was looking for.

"The women were killed on these dates." He showed the
file to her.

"Then I know he's not guilty, Mulder and I were in
quarantine on January 23."

"You have proof of this?"

"Yes, case files, medical records, eyewitness accounts and
my own memories. You do not have Robert Garret in
custody and I demand you release Agent Mulder now."
Scully almost sang for joy. Skinner was wrong, there was
no multiple personality or anything like that.

Johnson's vacation time had arrived and he decided to take
it because Barrows had wanted to take over the case. So,
Barrows had to handle this new situation by himself. He
made all the necessary arrangements to free Agent Mulder.
The last thing he needed on his record was a false arrest
complaint from the FBI. Luckily, Agent Scully had agreed
not to file a complaint. Barrows felt relieved. His problem
was solved, when Johnson came back, they would start
again. He really wanted to get Garret, but he did not want
to do it in a court of law. He wanted to gun down Garret in
a dark alleyway, the way a bastard like that deserved to go.

Scully breathed a sigh of relief and sat down to wait for
Mulder. She was not sure how long the whole process
would take, but she had a lot of free time and knew if she
left him on his own, he would go back and investigate
Soren's spotless apartment again. She checked her watch.
It couldn't be too much longer.

Outside 5th precinct
3:00 pm

Scully, and the man who she thought was Mulder, walked
out of the precinct. They reached the car, and he sat on the
passenger side. She went around to the driver's door,
opened it, and started up the car. The minute the car
started moving, he closed his eyes and fell fast asleep. She
guessed he had not had much sleep over the past few days.
She was just glad to have him back. She was starting to
worry about him while he was in jail, but he was cleared of
the charges and now could go back home. She turned to a
radio station with music she enjoyed and headed towards
the airport.

She returned the car to the rental agency. She felt bad
about waking him up. He looked so peaceful. He could
sleep on the plane though. Luckily, getting a ticket proved
easy and about an hour later, they were on their way back
to D.C.

He slept the whole flight, which did not surprise her. She
had tried to discuss what happened with him, but he had
only murmured how tired he was and fell asleep. She was
left alone with her thoughts and the *American Airlines*
magazine, one of the most boring magazines in the world.
She realized that she had not slept much over the last few
days either, so she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

The man awoke a few minutes before the plane began its
descent into D.C. airport. He studied Scully's sleeping
form and smiled. He could not wait to begin his part of
Phase Two.

March 23,
Location Unknown
5:00 pm

Mulder opened his eyes. The world was slowly coming
into focus, although the only thing he could see were white
walls. His first thought was how glad he was to be alive.
His second was "Where the hell am I?". He tried to sit up
and was surprised to find that he was restrained to a
hospital bed. His right wrist was in a plastic cuff, which
was attached to the bed. His left wrist was in the same
predicament. A thick nylon strip went across his chest and
hooked into the bed. Another thick nylon strip went across
his hips and was hooked in the same way. A third thick
nylon strip went across his calves. He could not move at
all. He was even more surprised to discover that he had no
desire to break out of the restraints. An IV line was
imbedded into a vein in his left wrist. He could only guess
why it was there. He noticed a constant stream of
something going through the tube into his body, but he had
no idea what it could be.

His thinking was still fuzzy, and he could not remember
how he got to his present location. At that moment a
beautiful woman entered the room. She was dressed all in
black and had golden blonde hair. In her right hand she
held a syringe.

"So you're finally awake," the woman stated. "That drug
kept you out longer than it was supposed to." She put the
needle into a branch of the IV tube and pushed down on the
top of the syringe. "This drug will most likely put you to
sleep, but not for very long." The medicine traveled into
his body and reached his brain. Suddenly, he did not care
where he was, or why. The woman smiled at him,
revealing perfect, white teeth.

"You will not be here very long," she said as he fell into a
drug induced slumber. "Just long enough for us to destroy
your life," she whispered when she was sure he couldn't
hear her.

Mulder's Apartment
7:00 pm

Scully had dropped him off at his apartment. She figured
all Mulder wanted to do was lie on his couch and sleep,
although he had done enough of that during the past few
hours. She wanted to talk to him. Maybe she would be
able to speak with him in the morning, after he had a few
hours uninterrupted sleep. She drove away, thinking of
having a nice salad and sitting down to watch a relaxing
night of television when she arrived home. At least she
knew this was one night where he would not be plagued
with insomnia.

The man found Mulder's apartment easily and used the key
that he was given. He went directly to the kitchen and tried
to find something to eat. Not an easy prospect, for Mulder
had been away on numerous cases for a few weeks and
hadn't had a chance to go food shopping. He opened the
fridge anyway, dismayed to find only a box of "Arm and
Hammer" baking soda, a stick of butter, a can of beer, a
container of orange juice, and a bottle of ketchup. He tried
the freezer. The only things in the freezer were in zip-lock
baggies and did not appear edible. He did not even want to
chance it. He closed the freezer angrily and walked into
the bedroom. It barely looked lived in. There was no bed.

The man opened the closet, hoping to find something nice
to wear the next day, but with no such luck. "Mulder has
absolutely no taste in clothing," He said aloud, throwing
suit after suit out of the closet. He shuddered when he saw
the ties. The people he worked for tried to make his ties as
ugly as Mulder's and had failed miserably. "No one can
wear ties this ugly," He threw a red, green and yellow plaid
tie out of the closet. The ties only got uglier from there.
Some of them could be considered kind of funny, but most
were hideous. Although, considering how drab and dull the
suits were, the ties showed personality. He walked back
into the living room and opened up a cabinet near the
television.

Inside the cabinet was a bottle of vodka, a bottle of scotch,
and a bottle of tequila.

"That explains the orange juice," he said, picking up the
bottle of vodka and seeing that it was only half-full. He
closed the cabinet and faced the wall behind the couch.
The only posters on the wall were very odd. What
significance a typewriter had, he would never know. He
turned back around and noticed another cabinet. He
opened up the second cabinet and almost laughed at what
he found. The entire cabinet was full of porn movies.
Some of them were still in their original wrapping, but
most were opened. He took out one of the opened boxes
and read the title aloud, "Cassandra, the Temptress." The
box showed a scantily clad brunette tying a man up to a
wall. The back of the box was blank, which was not a big
surprise. Most porn movies did not have plot synopses. No
one watched porn for the brilliant plot.

The man put the box back into the cabinet and closed it.
He lay down on the couch and turned on the TV. Turning
through the stations he found a movie that interested him.
A woman was screaming and a psycho rapist was coming
after her. The man rooted for the rapist.

March 24
Location Unknown
7:00 am

The drug had worn off. Mulder's eyes snapped open and he
started to plan a way to escape. He fought against the
restraints, realizing after a few minutes it was beyond
pointless. The only way to get out of the restraints was to
have someone release him. The blonde woman walked
into the room and turned on the overhead fluorescent
lights. She was not carrying a syringe this time. He was
not sure whether or not that was a good thing. The only
thing he was sure of was that he had never felt so
vulnerable before. She was carrying a pitcher and a glass,
which was probably a good sign.

She sat down on a black cushioned chair near the bed and
poured what looked like water into the glass. She held it to
his mouth and let him drink. It was then he realized that it
had been over 24 hours since he had taken in any water.
The woman crossed her legs. She wore another black pants
suit, and her hair was in the same loose bun. She obviously
prided herself on regularity. He found himself starting to
wonder if she owned any other clothing or just had many
outfits which looked exactly alike.

"I've been watching you for quite some time, Agent
Mulder, " the woman whispered to him.

"What is in the IV bag?" he asked, his voice rough from
disuse.

"Glucose. If we were going to keep you unconscious, we
certainly did not want you to be dehydrated." The woman
gestured towards the IV bag.

From the way she said we, he realized that she was more
than just a hired accomplice to them. She was actually part
of the inner circle. That surprised him. He was not aware
that there was a woman in the group. Especially one so
young she barely seemed old enough to remember
Woodstock, let alone know anything about what happened
in the 1950's.

"Why am I here?" he asked, his voice a little stronger.

"Come on, you know I can't tell you anything." She
reached into her jacket pocket and withdrew a cigarette.
She lit it and took a puff.

"Then why are you here?" She blew smoke into his face,
which made his eyes water a little.

"Let's just say that I have other motives." she whispered to
him in a low breathy voice and smiled again. He
swallowed, something in her eyes gave him the impression
he did not want to know what those were.

Scully's apartment
10:17 am

Reluctantly Scully opened her eyes to face the new day.
She was still exhausted, although she had no idea why.
However, the phone was ringing so she reached over and
answered it.

"Hello?" She knew she sounded like she had just woken
up.

"Scully, it's me."

"Where are you?"

"At home. A piece of information was left for me. Crop
circles in Ohio."

"Crop circles?"

"I know what it sounds like, but I think there is more to this
than meets the eye. I think that the crop circles are a cover
up."

"For what?" She was still too tired to think clearly.

"I don't know, but I would like to get out there and
investigate."

She glanced around her apartment then sighed, "Okay,
when are we leaving?"

"Feel like taking a nice long drive?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really, but don't worry, I promise I will let you choose
the music this time." He smiled.

"Okay, if you promise, then I guess a long drive will be ok."
She smiled also.

"Pick you up in an hour?"

"No, I need more time, how about two hours?"

"That's okay. See you then."

She hung up the phone. She turned her attention towards
packing another suitcase, as well as choosing music to
bring along. She choose the Beatles Anthology Parts I and
II. She adored it and Mulder liked it, so the ride would be
peaceful. She was hoping that they would get a chance to
talk during the trip. Part of her was almost honored to even
be invited along. Usually, when he got a tip about a
cover-up, he would run off alone, throwing caution to the
wind. She supposed that the jail experience had sobered
him or maybe he really trusted her. It was something she
had been doubting lately. During the ride home from the
airport, he seemed so distant, although she was pretty sure
that was only from exhaustion. Actually, he had been
pretty distant over the past week or so. She still had no
idea what he was doing in NYC to begin with.

Realizing that she was wasting time, she walked into the
bathroom and took a quick shower. She debated about
what to wear, then she noticed a new suit that she had
bought a week or so ago. The suit was a black and white
pinstripe, with a knee length skirt and a double breasted
jacket. She had even bought a new white silk blouse to
wear under it. She walked out of her bedroom and took a
quick look in the mirror. She had blow dried her hair so
that it was straighter than usual. She realized that one thing
she needed desperately was a haircut and made a mental
note to make an appointment when she got back.

She placed her suitcase near the door and put the tapes in
her handbag. She slipped into a pair of low black heels and
turned her wrist to look at the time, noticing the thin
bracelet watch she had accidentally selected. It was
exactly 12:17. She walked over to look out the window.
The car was there. So, she picked up her suitcase, grabbed
her briefcase and handbag, then walked out the door. She
walked down the stairs quickly, glad she had packed
lightly. After putting her suitcase into the trunk she got
into the passenger seat.

"Sorry," she apologized while digging through her pocket
book for the tapes.

"It's okay. I just got here." The man started the car and
drove away.

"So, did you bring any music?"

"Yes. Mind if I put in the Beatles?"

"No, not at all." He was keeping his eyes on the road.

She opened up the box and put in the first tape. The first
three hours of their trip passed without any conversation.
The only sound was the Beatles's singing. She was starting
to go nuts. She had never seen him so quiet.

"Are you going to be silent this entire trip?" she asked
exasperated.

"Sorry, I've been lost in thought," he apologized and turned
up the radio.

She reached over and turned down the radio. "So why
didn't we fly to Ohio?"

"They could track us that way. This is safer," The man
said. He congratulated himself on his grasp of Mulder's
character.

"What are you expecting to find out in Ohio?"

"The Kindred have returned," he said softly.

She waited a minute before saying anything. "The same
Kindred that lived in Massachusetts and could change their
sex?"

"The very same."

She knew why he was not telling the Bureau about this new
case. He had no evidence technically, and no reason to
investigate.

"Why would they resurface?"

"You mean come back," he said seriously.

She touched her ear and realized that she had forgotten to
put on earrings. "How much further?"

"Only about 2 hours. Take a nap, you look tired."

She thought that was odd, him telling her to sleep; but then
again, she did feel tired. "Sure. I won't be out for very
long." She put her seat back and fell asleep.

He allowed himself a smile. Only two hours to go, not very
far away at all. "Have a nice sleep, Agent Scully," He said
and turned off the tape. He hated the Beatles.

end part 7

DISORIENTED by FirePhile@aol.com
part 8 - Disclaimers in part 1

Location Unknown
5:00 pm

It was night, or rather Mulder guessed it was night. He had
no idea how many hours had passed since he was taken
from the jail. At least he was no longer restrained to the
bed and now was allowed free movement. It was a relief
because he hated being tied up. He hated the lack of
control. His feet dragged slightly as he paced back and
forth slowly. He was tired, more tired then he could ever
remember being. He would not lay down, though. He was
absolutely convinced that if he kept moving, he would be
able to stay awake.

He did not trust the blonde woman who kept visiting him.
She did not give him any information. None of them ever
did. The worst part was the way she kept looking at him
and that low breathy voice she used. If he didn't know
better, he would swear she was trying to seduce him. He
didn't remember being taken from the jail, or how he had
arrived at his present location. He only remembered two
people walking into a room, and then total darkness until
he regained consciousness. He wondered where Scully
was, and if she had sent out the national guard to search for
him yet.

He banged on the wall. It was not plaster as he had first
assumed. Rather it was metal painted gleaming white. He
kept his eyes closed, because the overhead lights bounced
off the walls creating a blinding glare. The door opened,
and the blonde stepped in. She was wearing the same
black outfit and smiled coldly at him. He did not even
attempt to get past her. Part of him realized that whatever
drug she was using on him was working.

She walked closer to him, and he backed up. She was
carrying a small pistol. His legs brushed against the bed
frame, and he fell back onto the mattress. The blonde got a
hungry look in her eyes and walked closer towards him.
She bit her lip and took her hair out of the bun. It fell
down in luxurious loose curls which reached the middle of
her arm. She had no bangs and each strand of hair was
exactly the same length. She proceeded to open the top
few buttons of her suit jacket and blouse. He quickly
realized what she was planning to do and tried to stand up.
She pushed him back down. She was very strong for her
size. One of her hands was taking her jacket off while the
other held the gun on him.

"As I said before, I have other motives," the woman said.

"What is your name?" He decided to see how much
information he could get out of her. Her actions showed
that she was not thinking clearly.

The woman threw her jacket to the ground. "Alana," she
answered. He might as well know her name.

He blinked quickly and tried to sit up again. This time, he
succeeded, but she was holding the gun against his chest.
"Why are you doing this?" It was the only thing that came
to his mind.

"Relax, you can't escape and there are many men who
would love to switch places with you at this moment."

"Then why don't you go find one of them?"

"Because," she said pushing him back and undoing the last
few buttons of her blouse, "I want you." She straddled him
and lowered her lips to his ear. "No more questions." she
whispered and started unbuttoning his shirt. She moved
her hands over his chest, creeping lower until he could
think no longer and was powerless to stop her.

6:00 pm
Coller Farm

Scully felt the car lurch and opened her eyes. "Where are
we?" she asked as she sat up.

"The location of the crop circles. Springston, Ohio." The
man answered as he stepped out of the car.

"Are the Kindred around here?" she asked checking her
appearance in the passenger side mirror before exiting the
car.

"Somewhere around here," he turned slowly in place,
searching all horizons.

They walked into the fields. From the looks of things, it
had been a long time since anything but weeds had grown
on the farm. However, she could not see any signs of crop
circles or discoloration. About 200 feet away from where
he parked the car was a farmhouse. It was made entirely of
light grey stained wood. It was most likely two stories,
although with the vaulted roof it was hard to say.

"Is this another one of your wild goose chases?" She asked
over her shoulder as she knelt down to feel the ground. She
waited for his response, there was none. She stood up and
looked around. He had walked off without her.

This did not surprise her at all. She turned around and
looked further out into the field, but he did not go that way.
She turned to the farmhouse, figuring he would go there to
look for evidence.

"Mulder, where are you?" She called over towards the
farmhouse.

"At the farmhouse, come over here, I want to show you
something." He called to her. She walked towards the
house. It looked deserted.

"What is it?" she asked when she was a few feet away.

"I have no idea. I thought maybe you would. It's in the
bedroom." He shrugged and took a sunflower seed out of
his trenchcoat pocket. He proceeded to crack it open and
throw the shell onto the ground.

She walked past him and went into the house. Her earlier
assumption of desertion was right. She guessed no one had
lived in the farmhouse for at least ten years. There was a
thin film of dust over the entire house, and a musty smell
permeated the rooms. As she walked towards the stairway,
she heard someone come up behind her.

"Don't turn around, Scully," she heard a voice behind her
say.

"Mulder? What are you doing?"

She felt as if her world had just been turned upside down.
She could feel the butt of his gun at the back of her neck.
She was too shocked to react, then mercifully the pressure
of the gun was gone. However, she realized too late that it
was coming towards her head, and she crumpled to the
ground.

The man named Robert Garret smiled over the body. He
pistol whipped her to knock her out, but not to cause her
any damage. The damage was supposed to come later.
Those were his orders.

9:45 pm
Location Unknown

Alana dressed quickly and smiled. She had gotten what she
wanted. Garret was a poor substitute for the real thing.
She had not needed the gun. The drugs had made Mulder
willing and responsive enough. Well, perhaps his mind
was not willing, but that was not the body part from which
she had wanted to elicit a response. She was reaching over
to put him back into restraints so that she could put the IV
back in, when his hand suddenly reached up and grabbed
onto her wrist. He sat up quickly and squeezed her wrist
hard, twisting her arm. She let out a gasp of pain and
swung at him with her free hand. He grabbed that hand
also and pulled her until he was looking into her eyes. She
realized he was not as willing as she had assumed. Her gun
lay useless a few feet away.

"Why am I here?" Mulder demanded.

Alana was quiet. She knew he would not harm her. After
reading all the information in his files, she could tell that
he did not hurt women. She wished that she had not just
slept with him.

"Why am I here?" he repeated, his voice more menacing.

"I don't have to tell you anything," she replied harshly and
tried to twist out of his grip. However, she was too weak,
and her wrists were starting to hurt. "Be happy you're still
alive, which is more than I can say for your friend Kara."

"How do you know about Kara?"

She laughed slightly, "We know everything."

"Did you kill her?"

"You didn't think she was killed by a ghost did you?"

"Why did she have to die?"

She considered her answer for a few seconds. She wanted
to shock him into letting go. "She died because of you, to
reel you in." It worked, because he loosened his grip for a
second, and she pulled away from him. She backed up,
retrieved her gun from the floor, and held it on him, daring
him to move. "Get dressed," she commanded as she
walked backwards out of the room. She wasn't going to
turn her back on him for a second. Only when she was
outside and the door was locked did she allow herself to
relax.

She rubbed her wrists, walked to the nearest bathroom and
went inside. She looked in the mirror above the sink,
reapplied her lipstick and took a deep breath. She was not
prepared for that at all, the drug was supposed to stop
something like that from happening. Unfortunately, she
was not allowed to hurt him. She made a mental note to
kill the inventor. The designer drug did not work very
well.

Alana hoped that when they decided to get rid of Mulder
once and for all, they'd let her do the honors. A bullet
would kill just as easily, but it was too quick and painless.
After the trouble he'd caused, he deserved a slow and
tortuous death one where he would scream until his throat
was raw. Scheme after elaborate scheme had failed. So
many people had died for no reason, and all to stop one
man. The more she thought of it the angrier she became,
and the more frustrated she was with the situation. She
raised her gun and shot at an empty stall. It didn't make her
feel any better, but at least the gun was out of bullets. If
she hadn't emptied it, she would have murdered some
random person on her way back to her room. That wasn't
her style, she didn't believe in senseless killing. She only
hurt someone, when she felt she had a reason.

7:30 pm
Coller Farmhouse

As Scully's world swam slowly into focus, it was dark. She
realized quickly that her arms were locked around a metal
pole that ran from ceiling to floor. She moved her legs into
a more comfortable position. They were tied with rope.
There was a figure in the corner of the room. It was sitting
quietly and murmuring something. It flipped a switch and
the light went on. Scully's heart sank as she realized who it
was.

"Why are you doing this Mulder?" she tried to reason with
him. He was probably just stressed out.

"I've been watching you through him," Garret said softly.

"What?"

"At those times that you're alone with him. I have
whispered thoughts into his brain, things he should do to
you," He continued, his voice still soft.

"Mulder, what are you saying?" She tried to be rational,
but she was becoming a little scared. Plus, a dull pain was
starting in the back of her head and working its way
forward.

"Things I would do to you." He paused for a moment, then
continued, "I've always wanted to hear you scream in pain."
He looked into her eyes.

She shut her eyes, trying to ignore the blood rush and
wanting to avoid the penetrating stare.

"He would never do it. He was too good, too nice. He
never lets me have any fun, unless of course...." He
grinned slightly, "I take control."

She opened her eyes, he was still there. She was wrong,
this was not a product of stress. He had snapped. Maybe
he had multiple personality syndrome after all.

"Would you like to know where I come from?"

"I already know, Skinner said Robert Garret was a rapist
that you killed years ago. That somehow he is controlling
you now..."

"Perhaps, but the foundation was there long before that
killer came along. I first showed myself years ago, when I
stopped him from committing suicide one dark lonely night
in England. I am the result of years of abuse and betrayal,
self-hatred turned on the rest of the world. He's powerless
against me and knows it. Whenever I take over, some
pretty young woman usually dies..." He paused for a
second. "I'm in control now and you're next..." Garret
almost laughed. He only had to look over at her to know
the psychological part of his assignment was working
perfectly.

Scully gasped and tried to struggle out of the handcuffs, to
no avail.

"Mulder, you can stop this, you can get help. I know you've
been under a lot of stress lately, but you'll find the answers
some day." Scully managed to tell him.

Garret talked louder. "I am not Mulder. My name is
Robert Garret." He stood up and walked to her. He knelt
down and hissed into her ear. "And after tomorrow, you'll
never want to see us again anyway."

She desperately tried to remember anything she could
about mental break downs and multiple personalities.
However, her head was still hurting, and she felt pain right
at her temples. She refused to give up. "I know you're in
there somewhere Mulder, and I know you can stop him. I
believe in you," Scully said outwardly confident, but trying
to convince herself.

"Oh, don't worry he's here. I can hear him screaming and
begging for me to stop hurting people whenever I start to
have a little fun. In fact, I think the events of tomorrow
might destroy him completely, leaving only me." Garret
stood up and walked towards the door. "Have a nice night,
Scully," he said laughing and locked the door behind him.

Scully could only stare numbly at the door and try furtively
to make sense of anything she had just heard. Her mind
conjured up horrible images of what the next day would
bring. Part of her realized she might not make it out of the
farmhouse alive, and that terrified her. She had trusted him
for such a long time, never realizing the devil that crept just
beneath the surface. This was worse than any gargoyle.
Mulder had an alter-ego that she must now accept, and this
alter-ego was like something out of a nightmare. He was
absolutely insane, yet sane enough to plan and enjoy what
he was doing. Scully thought back to the crime photos she
had viewed only a few days prior. They alluded to
someone who took time with his work and enjoyed the fear
in his victim's eyes. She suspected though, that Garret
personally enjoyed the degrading and beating of the
women. The killing was only secondary.

Scully shuddered involuntarily. She was fleshing out the
profile of a man who was about to do her great physical
harm. She forced herself to remember the way Mulder was
and to decide if she could live with her decision to kill him.
The answer was quick. There was no other choice. But,
what if she was wrong? What if his problem just stemmed
from stress and he was making up a lot of things as he went
along? Scully struggled with the handcuffs, finding them
impossible to get off. The rope was the same way. Then,
she remembered something - there was no calvary. No one
even knew they were out in the middle of Ohio. Her mind
clicked as she began to wonder exactly when Garret had
taken control. The only thing that made sense to her was
that they had never reached their destination, and the
minute Garret took over they had stopped at the first
deserted farm along the road. She knew there were a lot of
them in this part of Ohio.

The issues were too big for her to handle. She had no right
answers and she knew any choice would have its
repercussions. She silently prayed for Mulder to come to
his senses before the next morning. Even if he didn't, she
thought maybe what happened with Teresa would happen
with her. He might start sobbing. She made a silent
promise to herself - if she survived the next day, she would
never look at Mulder again. She could not reason that
Garret would be in control. To her, it was as if Mulder
would be committing the crimes against her himself. The
anger, betrayal and pain she would feel would destroy all
friendly feelings she had towards him. She knew that if she
saw him again, she'd kill him. That much she was sure of,
and it terrified her. She tried rationalizing that the guilt
Mulder would feel would push him into the abyss of
insanity. He's gone now anyway. It was hard to make her
mind accept the reasoning. She closed her eyes and hoped
her dreams brought some sort of answer.

end part 8

DISORIENTED by FirePhile@aol.com
part 9 - Disclaimers in part 1

10:00 pm
Unknown Location

Mulder awoke in a cold sweat and sat up. He had just
remembered who had kidnapped him, himself. He was
tempted to write it off as a dream, but it made sense. His
latest theory was they were keeping him, for some reason
until a certain time. He started to think up reasons for his
being held, but they didn't make much sense. Suddenly, he
hit on a reason that made sense and scared him. Scully, she
was the common thread throughout all of the recent events.
Whoever looked like him, was with her and planned to do
something. Instinct told him they were not planning to
bake her a cake. He was very fearful for his partner's life
and realized he had to escape and warn her, before
whatever they were planning happened. He decided to
stand behind the door and wait for Alana to come in. He
could easily overpower her and force her to tell him where
Scully was.

The door opened and Mulder sprang on Alana. He put his
right arm around her throat and grabbed the gun from her
left hand. The hypodermic needle she was holding fell out
of her right hand and hit the floor.

"Where's Scully?" He demanded roughly.

Alana did not answer, so Mulder wrapped his arm around
her throat tighter and put the gun to her head.

"Where's Scully?"

Alana saw spots in front of her eyes, she was starting to
black out. "Coller Farm.....in.....Springston...Ohio." She
gasped. Mulder loosened his grip and Alana took a deep
breath.

"She's alone?"

Alana shook her head slightly, "She's with you."

Pieces fell into place and Mulder got a sick feeling at the
pit of his stomach. "What's going to happen to her?"

"Whatever Garret wants to do to her, he will."

"How do I get out of here?"

Alana squirmed out of his grip and lunged down to get the
medicine, she had to knock him out. However, Mulder
anticipated her movement and grabbed the needle before
she could reach it. She didn't have time to react, and he
stabbed the hypodermic needle into her thigh pressing
down hard. Her eyes were wide with shock as she fell to
the ground, oblivious to the world around her. He hoped
whatever was in there would put her out for a while. He
picked up her pocketbook and found a set of keys. He
could only pray that the car wasn't hard to find. The room's
door opened easily and an exit door was only a few feet
from the room. Luckily for him, hers was the only car in
the lot, and he was soon on his way to Ohio.

An hour or so later, Alana opened her eyes and stood up.
She realized, angrily, that he was gone and took a small pad
out of her pocketbook leaving herself a note to kill whoever
created that drug. She straightened herself out and fixed
her hair. She took a cellular phone out of her pocket and
dialed quickly.

"Agent Mulder has escaped."

"Does he know of the plan?"

"Not all of it...but I think he put the pieces together. I told
him Agent Scully's location."

"Why did you do a foolish thing like that?"

"He had a gun to my head. He would have killed me if I
didn't tell him the information."

"Are you sure of that?"

"Yes, I am sure. Perhaps Garret will be finished and gone
by the time Agent Mulder gets there."

"Did you remember to give Mulder the amnesia drug?"

"Yes, he will not remember anything that happened to him
here. Also, he will not have any recollection at all of how
he reached the farmhouse."

"And when Agent Scully sees him?"

"If Garret finished his job, she won't be able to look at him.
She'll never trust him again."

"I am very disappointed in you, Alana. Your father would
be disappointed also if he was still alive. You were trusted
with an assignment and you failed. Because you are my
granddaughter, I will not punish you this time. The next
time you fail, expect the usual consequences."

"I understand, Grandfather," Alana said humbly.

"I hope you do understand Alana. The others will be very
displeased. We have spent months on this plan. It had a
few flaws, but it would have worked. For your well-being,
I will tell them Agent Mulder escaped by killing a guard.
That way they cannot blame you fully."

"Thank you, Grandfather. Do you want me to see you
when I get back to New York City?"

"Yes, come here at once." The well-manicured man hung
up the phone.

Alana realized she had failed, but there would be other
opportunities. One unfortunate side effect to the missing
time drug was that Agent Mulder would not remember her.
Well, that could also be a good thing. She walked out of
the room and shut the door behind her. She walked out to
the lot and screamed in frustration. He had stolen her car.

March 25
11:00 am
Coller Farmhouse

Garret stood over Scully. He had moved her to a bed but
did not handcuff her. He ran a hand through his short
brown hair and watched her sleep. He was looking forward
to completing his mission. His only regret was, he would
not be allowed to kill her. Killing her would totally destroy
the purpose of the assignment.

Scully's eyes snapped open, and Garret stepped away from
the bed. She jumped off the bed and swung at him. He
caught her wrist and twisted it behind her. She heard a
small crack and felt a horrible burning pain throughout her
arm. To counteract, she jabbed him hard in the stomach
with her free elbow. He let go of her arm with a gasp of
surprise. She kneed him in the groin and he fell to the
ground in pain. She took the opportunity to run to the door
and try to open it. It was locked, and he was walking
towards her. Before she could react, he swung her around
and punched her in the face. She stepped back in shock.
He punched her again, and she fell to the ground. Her lip
was split, and her right cheek was swelling.

Garret bent and grabbed her roughly by the arm. He pulled
her up and threw her against the bed. She hit her head
against the wall. Garret then pulled out a pair of handcuffs
and locked her wrists around a pole in the middle of the
headboard.

"Mulder, fight him!" she screamed through swollen lips.
"You're stronger than this! You can fight it!" she said,
hoping she could get through to him.

"Shut up!" he growled and slapped her on the face. She
knew Mulder was not in control anymore. It was his body,
and those were his hands. His eyes looked different
though. They were cold and cruel. All sadness and
kindness had left his face. It had become all sharp angles.
Garret took a small metal object from his pocket. It was a
switchblade knife. He opened it and slit her blouse down
the middle. He made a cut down each arm and ripped off
the blouse. He took off his own jacket and touched Scully's
bare midriff. She realized what he was going to do and
started to twist and turn. Garret climbed on top of her and
slapped her again and again. Scully started to scream.
Someone else had to be within listening distance.

11:05 am
Coller Farm

Mulder drove up and parked quickly. He had driven a long
time and it took him even longer to find Coller Farm. He
hopped out of the car, and the first thing he heard was a
scream followed by another and another. His blood froze
as he realized who was screaming.

"Stop squirming, or I'll cut your fucking throat!" he heard a
male voice shout, one that sounded very familiar.

Mulder ran into the house and up the stairs to the origin of
the screams. He held Alana's gun tightly and kicked open
the door.

"Get off of her!" Mulder screamed, clicking off the gun's
safety.

Garret jumped off the bed and spun around to face Mulder.
Mulder had his finger near the trigger, but found that he
could not fire. It would be like killing himself, watching
himself die. The thought terrified him.

Garret had none of those qualms. True, his mission was to
destroy Scully's trust in Mulder. Not to kill both of them.
However, the circumstances had just changed.

He ran towards Mulder and swiped his knife at him.
Mulder hesitated again to pull the trigger, and Garret
barreled into him. The gun skidded away and Mulder
found himself on the ground with a knife at his throat.
"Ready to die by your own hands?" Garret asked
menacingly. Mulder felt the steel at his throat, gently
pressing into his carotid artery. It was then he realized he
had to kill the man on top of him.

In a moment of strength, Mulder managed to get the knife
away from his neck. The knife skidded away from both of
them. Garret was still on top of Mulder. From Scully's
viewpoint, both men looked the same. She could not tell
who was winning.

Garret put his hands around Mulder's neck and started
choking him. Mulder put his thumbs into Garret's eyes.
Garret let go with a scream of pain. Mulder punched
Garret in the chest and stunned him. That gave Mulder just
enough time to get out from under Garret and scramble to
the gun. Garret turned on Mulder with an evil glint in his
eyes and Mulder stood up. Garret and Mulder struggled for
the gun, the gun pointing at each one. Each fighting for
control. Then, a gunshot went off.

Scully watched the whole fight, thinking how surreal it
was. She could not blame Mulder for not being able to
shoot Garret right away. After all, she was pretty sure that
she could not shoot someone who looked exactly like her.
One man was standing. He looked down at the gun in his
hand and dropped it.

"Mulder?" Scully asked nervously. She tried to sit up and
failed. Mulder nodded and took off his jacket. He covered
her chest with it. He reached over to undo the handcuffs.
Scully was still in a state of shock. She swore that she
almost had a heart attack when the door opened, and he
was there. The relief she felt could not be put into words.
The handcuffs came off with a little click, and she suddenly
realized that either her wrist or arm was broken. Mulder
knelt down next to the bed. Scully put the coat around
herself as best she could.

"Scully, I got here as soon as I could. I had just escaped
from..." He trailed off, looking lost and confused.

"Mulder, lets get out of here," she said, tears threatening to
fall.

But he did not answer her, just continued staring straight
ahead. "Mulder?" She tried again, but he fell back onto
the hard wooden floor. Scully was on her feet and at his
side. She could feel a heartbeat, but knew that he needed
some sort of help.

However, he was still slightly conscious. "There was a
woman...." he said, in a ragged voice and then was silent.
Scully crawled over to Garret's jacket and pulled out a
cellular phone. She called a hospital, and they told her they
were sending an ambulance over. Luckily, their tracking
system was able to find the farm quickly. Scully grabbed
the gun from the floor, and standing a good few feet away,
shot Garret in the head a few times. Not only to get out her
anger, but also to make sure they would never be able to
tell how similar he looked to Mulder. The ambulance, the
meat wagon and the police arrived about 20 minutes later.
Scully told the police that the person shot in the upstairs
room had been a suspect and was holding her partner
hostage, a story she made up while waiting for the
ambulance, and showed them her badge. They believed
her without a problem and Mulder was put into the
ambulance, Scully went with him, the doctors wanted to
check out her arm. The EMT's hooked him up to an IV
needle and drove off.

During the ride, Mulder regained consciousness. "What
happened?" he whispered, totally confused. "Where am I?"
He tried to sit up, and Scully pushed him down gently with
her good arm.

"Don't sit up. You have been unconscious for a while," she
said compassionately. Mulder looked up at her.

"Scully, what happened to your face?" He was concerned.
It was hard to miss her swollen and bruised face.

Scully was silent for a few moments. She could not tell
him the truth. So, told him the same story she told the
police. "You disappeared a few days ago. I got a tip that
you would be here, and the person who abducted you tried
to kill me. They had some notion that you were to be
sacrificed in the middle of a corn field. I think they saw
"Children of the Corn" one too many times, but I managed
to kill them and rescue you. However, I didn't escape
unharmed." She motioned to her face and arms.

"Where is here?" Mulder asked after a few seconds.

"Springston, Ohio."

He mulled this information over, but still looked
disoriented. "What day is it?"

"The 25th of March."

The last day Mulder remembered was the 21st, he had no
recollection at all of the four days after it. Scully was
surprised how quickly she forgot the events that had just
happened to her. Right now, all she saw was her partner
and he needed help. Garret was nowhere to be found in his
anxiety filled eyes.

He smiled up at her and whispered, "Thank you for saving
my life again."

She smiled at him and held his hand. He gave her a gentle
squeeze in return.

"You're welcome," she said, gently letting go of his hand
and checking the IV needle. It was put in over a scar that
appeared to be from another needle. Where had he been for
the past two days?

March 28
New York City
1:00 pm

Alana sat in the room. Her grandfather would be coming
soon and he would not be happy. It was a shame that
Mulder had killed the clone. They really could use a
double sometimes. However, it did prove that the cloning
worked.

"In one way, it was a complete success," Alana said in her
own defense, as her grandfather stepped into the room. She
took out another cigarette.

"Yes, but this only brought them closer together. She trusts
him now more than ever. Months of planning, ruined!" the
well manicured man said.

He sighed and turned towards the window, "Perhaps this
was a good lesson for you to learn. You'll think twice
before getting physically involved with someone you're
supposed to be watching."

She nodded slightly, very ashamed. "How did you know?"

"We know everything."

She took another deep drag of her cigarette and tried to
calm down. "I know, Grandfather, and I am sorry I failed.
However, the clone theory was tested, it works perfectly,"

"It would have been nice to kill two birds with one stone."

"Yes, but I have a meeting with the Secretary of Defense in
a few days."

"Production will be able to start soon?" the well manicured
man asked interested.

"As soon as I get the cells,"

"That will redeem you in my mind. I will see you when
production begins."

Alana nodded and left the room. She hated Mulder, and
never understood why so much time and energy was wasted
on him. There were much bigger fish to fry.

April 2
FBI Headquarters, Washington D.C.

Most of the bruises had healed. Her arm was still in a cast
and sling, she hated the lack of movement. Scully had
insisted on performing the autopsy of Robert Garret herself.
However, they turned down her request because of the
broken arm. It didn't matter anyway, the body disappeared
from the morgue before anyone could examine it. Traces
of an unknown drug were found in Mulder's blood and he
still had no memory of what happened before he appeared
in Ohio. She supposed it would eventually all come back
to him.

Things were back to normal, though. The NYC police had
been informed of the death of Garret. They were satisfied,
but Scully wondered what Garret had done to make
Barrows hate him so much. She would have to store that
question in her mind, yet another of the many unanswered
questions concerning the case. When asked, Skinner
denied his entire story and there was no record of a Robert
Garret anywhere in any file. Scully sighed and looked over
the file she had just finished. Kara Soren's death was ruled
a suicide, and she could find no evidence to counteract that
ruling. Mulder had gone up to see Skinner, and she knew
that he would be coming downstairs with another case in
tow. This was her first day back at work after the incident
and her arm was feeling a lot better.

All she had to do was make sure that Mulder would never
find out what really happened in Ohio or about the double.
She felt guilty about that. She thought she knew Mulder
better then to be tricked so easily by the double. She had
worked with him for years. She should have known that
wasn't him. However, she had been plagued by nightmares
of the ordeal ever since arriving back in Washington. She
thought it might be her conscience urging her to tell him
the truth. That, however, was one horror she would not
face. Mulder blamed himself for enough things. The last
thing he needed was more guilt, or to hear there might be
more than one of him out there. Scully closed Kara Soren's
file and stood up. She placed it in the filing cabinet under
Paranormal Death and slammed the drawer shut.

end.