Title: I’ll Be Seeing You(2/3)
Author: Fox’s Gal

July 8
12:38 AM
Scully trudged into the apartment, tired but pleased. She had learned a lot from
the young boy named Charlie. Granted, the double cheeseburger, onion rings,
milkshake and hot fudge sundae probably helped him give her the information.
Apparently, that alley was where Charlie and his dog (who was named Marvin)
usually slept. In the wintertime, they would sleep in a Dumpster, but in the
summertime, they would sleep high up in one of the neighboring buildings' fire
escapes. While listening to him, Scully tried to ignore the pangs in her heart
at the thought of this boy curling up next to cockroaches and rats for a good
night's sleep. Charlie had gone off on a tangent explaining to Scully how hard
it was getting a dog up into the fire escape. Finally, he got back to the story
at hand. He had been up in the fire escape the night Mulder was taken. He gave
Scully a full account of what he saw.
Charlie had just settled in for the night when a man drove a van up to the
alley. He got out of his van and walked into the alley. He had found a spot to
sit next to a Dumpster. He sat there until Mulder arrived. Given what Charlie
said, he waited for Mulder for about a half an hour. Charlie sat up in the fire
escape, unseen. He had just been starting to doze off when he heard the man get
up from his spot beside the Dumpster. At that point, Charlie had woken up and
became an audience and, Scully hoped, a viable witness. From what the young boy
told her, he sat and watched as a man (Mulder) jogged by. The other man stepped
out of the alleyway and shot him in the leg. Scully had tried to listen
objectively, but her imagination had started to go wild with Charlie's vivid
description of Mulder collapsing to the ground. The amount of blood had been
unbelievable, or so he had said. Scully hadn't lost her composure at all during
his synopsis.
"Did you hear anything?" She had asked.
He most definitely did hear something. That something was not a gunshot though.
Scully noted that the abductor had probably used a silencer. This had
advantages, as Scully found out. Charlie was able to hear everything that was
being said. Mostly what he heard was Mulder. Apparently, while he was laying on
the pavement bleeding profusely, he began reciting the Miranda Rights. Scully
wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry. The vision of Mulder being so
typically Mulder made her want to chuckle. On the other hand, her worst fears
were confirmed. Mulder was indeed kidnapped and was suffering from a severe
injury. Scully didn't even want to contemplate the infection that was probably
overtaking the gunshot wound by now.
Scully looked at her watch. It was nearly one in the morning. Common sense told
her she should try and get some sleep. She wouldn't be any use to anyone, much
less Mulder, if she wasn't running on all six cylinders. It had been a very long
couple of days. She was physically as well as mentally exhausted. "All I need is
a shower. That'll wake me up." She murmured to the empty apartment. A nice hot
shower was exactly what she needed to revive her. A pot of coffee wouldn't hurt
either.
About an hour later, Dana was still poring over the rest of the contents of
Mulder's packet. She had finished a half of a pot of the coffee and had begun to
convince herself she wasn't tired. She never got into the shower. She didn't
want to waste any time that she could be devoting to finding her partner, but
Scully's body was having a hard time keeping up with the demands she was making
on it. She found herself seeing double as she tried to concentrate on the words
in front of her. Her brain was having a hard time processing what should have
been simple information. Instead of giving in to her weary state, she got angry
at it. She stood up to stretch in an attempt to invigorate her tired body. Angry
tears clouded her vision, which made her even madder. In a rare display of
temper, Dana Scully kicked her couch with as much ferocity as she could muster.
The pain shot up her leg, but she did not notice it. She had begun to pace
around the apartment not unlike a caged animal. She was fighting so many things,
she couldn't even begin to count them. Everything from the FBI to a faceless
psycho to herself. She sat down on the couch, noting that her foot had begun to
throb. At least the tears had subsided. She leaned back and closed her eyes for
what she only thought would be a second. Scully fell asleep sitting up. She had
lost the war she had been waging with exhaustion…for now.
She knew she was dreaming.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Dana Scully knew what she was witnessing
couldn't be real. She was so willing to lose herself in the dream though.
Mulder, pressing close to her, his warm breath tickling her ear. She wrapped her
arms around him vowing never to let him go. The sound of his voice, a sexy
chuckle that seemed to envelope her. She could feel his lips, his soft, smooth
lips play against her forehead, then her temple, then her jawline, then the
sensitive flesh on her neck. His hands buried themselves in her hair as she
shivered at his touch. She moved closer to him, her cheek against the smooth
fabric of his shirt. She could see him, smell him, feel him, and hear the thud
of his heartbeat, could she taste him? She looked up into those familiar green
eyes. Those eyes that were always hiding something. They absolutely gleamed
right now as she lifted her mouth to his. She felt shudders wrack his body and
he convulsed in pain. They two fell to the ground as he begged her to make it
stop. She watched helplessly as tears formed in his eyes. Blood seemed to come
from nowhere as he continued to beg her to ease the pain.
"Make it stop, Scully. Please make it stop."
She was still clutching him and could begin to feel a heat spread through his
body. She pressed her lips to his forehead willing the fever to go down. He
continued to groan in pain as sores began to open up on his skin. Festering
boils marred his features. She could hardly absorb what was happening to him.
She couldn't understand it. She could only hold him and promise him she'd fix
it. She'd fix everything.
"I can save you Mulder."
She held his dying body in her arms as he continued to shake and convulse. He
was quickly covered in blood from his sores. Scully too, was drenched in blood.
Mulder's blood.
Mulder's blood on her hands.
Scully sat up with a start, that final thought echoing through her mind. She
looked at her hands, searching for any trace of Mulder's blood. Though she saw
nothing, she still felt compelled to get up and wash her hands.
On her way to the bathroom, she saw the time. It was 5:03 in the morning. She
had only slept about three hours. That was good. She didn't want to lose any
time on this. She had a lot to do today. She had never gotten around to that
shower the night before and felt particularly grimy. Once in the bathroom, she
began getting ready to face the day. She got ready quickly, as dawdling only
gave her mind time to reflect on the nightmare. She had to drop the blood and
the shell off to the crime lab. She had a few favors she could call in to keep
this new information discreet. It probably wasn't a very smart thing to keep
this from the investigative team, but Scully really thought she could proceed
quicker if she did this on her own.
The Hoover Building
7:08 AM
Sci-Crime Lab
Scully dropped the scrapings and the shell off to Agent Karen Williams. Dr.
Williams was an expert in forensics and promised Scully she would have the
results of her tests to her by early that afternoon. She knew she could trust
Karen to keep this quiet. The two of them had gone to college together and
entered the academy together. Over the years, they had drifted apart slightly,
but there was still a foundation of friendship that Scully knew she could count
on.
"You realize that what you're asking me to do is a major breach of protocol."
She had said.
Scully could only nod. "If you only knew how often I've found myself repeating
that very phrase to myself over the past few days."
Her friend had only smiled. "Aren't you supposed to be taking a leave of
absence?"
Scully had taken a seat on a nearby stool. "Karen, if you only knew…if you only
knew all we've been through. Taking a leave of absence…that's just not an
option. I can't just sit by and twiddle my thumbs. I have to do something."
Agent Williams had nodded understandingly. "I'll call you by 2 Dana. I promise."
Scully had smiled at her friend and got up to leave. She had the unfortunate
honor of running into AD Skinner in the hallway. He stopped and looked at Scully
curiously.
"Agent Scully."
She nodded in acknowledgement. "Sir."
"My office, 10 minutes."
She swallowed nervously. "Yes sir."
He nodded briskly, turned and walked away.
The sudden surge of adrenaline had left Scully shaky. She walked quickly to a
nearby ladies room and leaned over the sink. What she needed was a Mulder-style
pep talk. As she looked at her reflection she imagined what he would be saying
to her right now. In a far corner of her mind, she heard his voice.
Okay Scully, so he wants to talk to you. You know that he doesn't have any
interest in talking about the weather. Chances are, he wants to either see what
the hell you're doing here when you're supposed to be sitting on your hands back
home. Either that, or he wants to brief you on how the official investigation is
going. Now, you know as well as I do that he's not going to order you to stop
your investigation. You know why? Because he doesn't know you're conducting an
investigation. He knows you're not doing what he ordered you to do, but hey,
what the hell does he expect? You're my partner. Some of my bad habits have
probably rubbed off on you by now. He's going to try though. He's going to press
you and try to find out what you've been up to. Just be a rock. Give him that
"Little Miss Innocent" shit you always try with me. Be careful though, he'll
probably have someone following you or some other covert shit. Now, you had
better pull yourself together and go in there and be Special Agent Dana Scully,
okay? I love you.
Where the hell had that come from?
Scully turned the water on and quickly splashed some cold water on her face. She
took some cleansing breaths and headed for Skinners' office. She found the door
open. She walked in and took a seat. Skinner looked at her hard for a moment
before he spoke.
"We're having very little progress in our investigation into Agent Mulder's
disappearance. So far, the sweep of the apartment has yielded no prints. We can
find nothing out of the ordinary. His personal papers seem to be intact, for the
most part, his belongings seem to be left undisturbed. The search of his car has
brought similar results. So far, we're at a dead end."
This was not what she had wanted to hear. "This is what you wanted to see me
about Sir?" It was hard to talk past that lump in her throat, but she managed.
Walter Skinner leaned back in his chair and thought a moment before continuing.
"You were Agent Mulder's partner…"
"I still am."
He acknowledged the defensiveness in her tone and continued. "You are Agent
Mulder's partner. You would know better than I or any of my team if something
was missing from Agent Mulder's personal effects."
"What exactly are you leading to Sir?"
"I'm giving you an opportunity, Agent Scully. I am giving you an opportunity to
go through the crime scene. I am giving you full license to examine any and all
evidence we've collected. The only stipulation is that if you find something
that would appear to be important to the investigation, you inform us."
Scully thought about this for a moment. An opportunity to examine the evidence
and crime scene without having to break in was rather appealing to her. She
couldn't help but suspect that the AD had some ulterior motives of his own. She
could tell just by sitting there watching him that he wasn't trusting her and he
knew she wasn't trusting him. They sat there, staring at each other for a very
tense minute. He was waiting for her answer. This was too big of an opportunity
to pass up. She nodded her assent.
"When can they expect you?"
"I can be there right away, Sir."
"Fine then. I'll tell the Special Agent in Charge to expect you."
She got up to leave. "Who is heading up the investigation?"
"Agent Diana Fowley."
Scully had a very bad feeling about this. She lifted herself out of the chair
and started for the door.
"And Agent Scully?"
She turned. "Yes Sir?"
"If you had been conducting an independent, unofficial investigation, you would
tell me, would you not?"
She forced her face to look neutral. "Of course Sir."
He nodded, unconvinced. "I thought so."
She continued toward the door. The hallway was a nice change from the
increasingly stifling atmosphere of Skinners office was beginning to get to her.
Best get used to it Scully. It's not going to be getting any better. You wanted
access. You now have access. Let's just hope you find something…and don't kill
Fowley in the process. She had respect for the agent who had worked with Mulder
before she did, but she didn't have to like her. In fact, she didn't like her.
Scully didn't like Diana Fowley at all. She didn't like the way she pushed
herself onto Mulder. Scully still felt something rotten in the pit of her
stomach when she remembered nearly walking in on the two of them during what
appeared to be an extremely intimate moment. Mulder had explained it all to her
later. From what Mulder said, Diana had started to spark something between them
that had long since died. Scully still didn't feel comfortable around her. Well
Girlfriend, you're just going to have to get over it. Just because you find
something doesn't mean you necessarily have to share it.
Why Dana, that would be so dishonest, so sneaky, so…so Mulder! Scully didn't
really like the turn her mind was taking. She was sounding less and less like
herself and more and more like her partner. She walked down to her car and sat
inside the plush interior and tried to organize her thoughts. She still had to
find out as much as she could about the initial victims. Perhaps she'd follow up
on that after meeting Agent Fowley at Mulder's apartment. She still had to talk
to Agent Morris. Dammit. And I was here too! Shit. She glanced at her watch and
tapped the wheel. I could swing back later and try to catch her either right
before lunch or right after lunch, depending on how long I'm at Mulder's. She
started the engine and started on her way to Alexandria.
Mulder's Apartment
8:10 AM
Scully wasn't sure if she should knock or just go right in. She tried the knob
and found it locked. She knocked softly and waited. There was no answer. She
knocked again and waited. Again, there was no answer.
"Well, I'm not waiting all day for this." She pulled Mulder's key out of her
purse and stuck it in the lock. Within minutes she had gained access to the
crime scene and looked around. She was experiencing such conflicting feelings in
this place. Every time she turned around, she expected to see Mulder sprawled
out on the couch, hunched over the desk or coming out of the kitchen drinking
milk from the carton. She wandered around the empty apartment, absently
wondering where all the agents were. At least Diana should be there. She silence
made her uneasy. She kept an ear open for footsteps that might belong to one of
her fellow agents as she started going through Mulder's things. She knew there
was a collection of evidence at the Hoover building, but she would go through
that later. There was a lot here she was sure that someone who didn't know
Mulder would have glossed over. She felt like she was intruding as she went
through his belongings. She walked over to his dresser and started looking
through his things. Clothes, clothes, clothes and more clothes were dumped on
the floor. Mixed in with the clothes, she came across a few packets of photos
and glanced through them. She wasn't sure what possessed her then, but she took
the photos. She placed them under her shirt in the waistband of her jeans. She
looked around guiltily. She saw no one and continued her search. She was looking
through the contents of his underwear drawer, which were presently sitting on
the floor in a haphazard heap. Scully felt herself blush as she pawed through
boxers, tank tops, and socks. She wasn't sure what she expected to find, the
last thing she expected to find though, was a small velvet box mixed in with his
unmentionables. She handled it gingerly, Frohikes words echoing in her mind.
Something about Diana Fowley being Mulder's "chickadee." She wondered how far
the term went. Was she married to him? She was afraid to open the box. She
opened it carefully. She let out the breath she didn't know she had been
holding.
It was his Oxford class ring.
She looked around again and pulled the ring from the box. She slipped it into
her jeans pocket. The cool metal burned against her thigh. She knew she should
be looking for things relating to the case, but right at the moment she was
looking for things that would ease her sanity. She walked around trying not to
step on anything. The apartment looked even worse than it had when Scully found
it a few days ago. She felt so disjointed. The apartment was Mulder's and yet,
it wasn't. There was another pile of clothes, Mulder's clean laundry no doubt,
dumped by the couch. Scully sat down and started putting the clothes back into
the basket that had been overturned. From the far reaches of her mind, a voice
called to her, telling her not to mess with the crime scene. She wasn't
listening though. She felt the familiar fabric between her fingers. His
T-shirts, jeans, socks and boxers that had fallen in a haphazard heap were now
being folded and placed carefully back in the laundry basket. God, if he only
knew that he's got you doing his laundry now…
Once the clothes were back in the basket, she lifted a gray T-shirt off of the
top of the pile. She held it to her face, inhaling deeply. Past the scent of the
detergent, she could smell Mulder. The subtle scent unlocked a gate of
sensations she hadn't been prepared for. The lump in her throat formed so
quickly, it nearly choked her. She took a deep, steadying breath and closed her
eyes. She looked around quickly and guiltily stuffed the shirt into her purse.
"Okay Scully, let's get down to business here. Time to focus on the task at
hand." She had found herself talking to herself more and more lately. It was
comforting somehow. She had even been able to convince herself it was normal.
She began to comb through the crime scene looking for anything. She wasn't
feeling very optimistic at that point though.
12:05 PM
Scully had been sitting sifting through Mulder's things all morning. She was
exhausted and frustrated. She found nothing of any consequence to the case. She
did, however, find a multitude of his "Celebrity Skin" issues. She only shook
her head and smiled when she found them. She also found a black and white
composition notebook: the beginnings of a journal that Mulder had started around
the time of Scully's cancer. She had begun to read, but found after one page she
couldn't read any more of Mulder's most intimate thoughts. She set the book
down. She needed to splash some water on her face to wash away the tears she had
shed so far.
Mulder's bathroom also looked like a tornado had whipped through it. Scully
found herself getting irritated at her fellow agents for not caring about what
they did to Mulder's home. It wasn't much of a home, but it was his home
nonetheless. She leaned over the sink and splashed her face with cold water. As
she looked at herself in the mirror, her eye caught something in the shower. A
tube of shower gel. She had never thought Mulder the "shower gel" type. She had
always pegged him as a "bar" man. She turned in the tiny bathroom and retrieved
the tube. She flipped the top open and inhaled. Again, memories came rushing to
her caused by this simple scent. Mostly, she was reminded of their last night
together. She blinked back the ensuing tears. It was silly, but she had to have
it. She brought the tube out into the living room with her and stuffed it in her
purse with the T-shirt.
Scully looked around her. There wasn't anything here. She had wished she could
have been more help, but knowing Mulder like she knew Mulder, she wasn't
surprised to find nothing in this apartment. She slung the purse on her shoulder
and turned to leave. As she reached the door, she heard a key turn in the lock.
Scully stopped, startled. She was more startled to see who was on the other side
of the door.
Agent Diana Fowley.
Scully froze, as did the other agent. They stood there uncomfortably, staring at
each other.
"Agent Scully."
"Agent Fowley." She acknowledged this woman in front of her with what could only
be referred to as cool professionalism. That was something Dana Scully was an
expert at. She felt the need to elaborate. "AD Skinner told me to…"
"I know. He called me. I thought you'd work better if you weren't distracted."
She started to smile. "Well, I-I've got to leave. I'm sorry I couldn't be more
help. There just isn't anything here. I could find nothing at all."
"Don't worry. No one else could either."
There wasn't anything else to say and the two women just stood there awkwardly.
"Well, Agent Scully…thank you for coming over and helping…I…"
"It's no problem at all. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be going."
Diana moved out of the doorway and let Scully pass. Scully was halfway down the
hallway when she heard Agent Fowley calling after her waving something. Scully
turned around as Diana reached her.
"Agent Scully, you left this…it is yours, isn't it?" It was obvious she hadn't
read the contents of the black and white composition notebook. Scully took it
hesitantly.
"Um, yes. Yes, it is. Thank you, I must have just…overlooked it."
10:30 PM
Scully's Apartment
It had been another long day. She walked into the apartment and, after locking
the door behind her, she kicked her shoes off and wandered into the living room.
Scully couldn't remember the last thing she had eaten before she'd met Elizabeth
Morris for lunch. Scully had dropped back by the Hoover building after the
encounter with Agent Fowley. She had gone through the collection of evidence
from Mulder's place. There was nothing of any consequence there either. After
that, she had found Agent Morris in her office typing up a report on her laptop.
She'd invited the taller woman to lunch at the deli down the street. Even though
Scully had no appetite, she knew she had to at least make an attempt to eat.
She had listened to Agent Morris talk about her work at the bureau and how she
liked things so far. Scully sat, picking at her salad and sipping her iced tea,
listening intently. When she brought up the incident with Agent Murphy,
Elizabeth had grown very quiet.
"I was assigned to him. He was my first partner…a really great guy. We got along
really well. I always considered myself lucky to have a partner I was also
friends with."
"What did you do when you discovered that he was missing?" Scully had tried to
be as gentle as possible in approaching the subject.
"We were on a stakeout. I remember that we had been assigned to the case on the
25th. It was June 1st. I remember because the next morning, the bodies of the
two officers were found. Anyway, we were staking out this one locale. It had
come up as an anonymous lead…and ended up being a residence, a very deserted
residence. He had called in an order for a pizza at a place down the street. He
said he would only be a minute and that he would walk it. After about 20
minutes, I phoned the pizzeria. Our order was still there. He had never picked
it up. At that point I called the Assistant Director. I didn't know what to do…I
was sure that something had happened to him. It was like he just disappeared off
the face of the earth. Not a trace of him anywhere. And no one saw anything
either. That's the amazing thing. Washington DC, millions of people, and nobody
saw a thing." The bitterness in her tone had been unmistakable.
"What did you do though?"
"Dana, I have never lost a partner before. I wasn't sure how to handle it. I've
never lost a friend before either. Trust me, of the two; losing the friend was
harder. Then, after about a week, the letters started coming."
"Letters?"
"Yes. I started getting letters from someone claiming to be the man we had been
investigating. They were horrible disturbing letters…all about what Eric had
been going through." Her eyes then clouded over with a misting of tears.
"Did you keep them?" Scully couldn't get over how insensitive that had sounded.
"I included them in the evidence for the case. I'm sure if you get Eric's file,
you'll be able to read them for yourself."
Scully had found that she couldn't meet the woman's eyes.
"Dana?"
"Yes?"
What the younger agent said only came out as a hoarse whisper. "I hope you find
Agent Mulder."
"Me too."
Scully had driven Elizabeth back to the Hoover building and decided she needed
to take a look at Agent Murphy's file. An unexplained, missing person's case.
Sounded almost like an X-File, since it hadn't been solved yet. She knew better
though. She had acquired the file through VCS and brought it back down to her
desk.
After examining the file for nearly 2 hours, Scully had come to one conclusion.
Sometimes following protocol wasn't a good thing. From what she could tell,
Agent Morris had worked on this case instead of being left out of it. Scully had
thought that that had been a bad call on whoever made the decision. Agent Morris
should have taken a leave of absence just like Scully was asked to. But you
haven't taken that leave yet Dana…The deeper she dug into the case, the more
similarities she saw between herself and Agent Morris. They both had an extreme
respect for the bureau and it's rules. Elizabeth Morris was probably more of a
stickler for rules and protocol than even Scully. Following the rules didn't
save her partner though.
Scully sank into her couch weighing her options. She could either go find Mulder
like Francine Taylor tried to find her partner; or she could sit back and let
the FBI do their thing. In both instances, the men still turned up dead. This
left Scully with a dilemma. What can I do to get him back? Two women before me
have tried the two routes I would have tried, and they both failed. If I go find
Mulder like some obsessed vigilante, I risk being killed in the process. If I
sit back like I'm expected to do, then Mulder will most surely be killed. She
wasn't sure where to turn next.
For a moment, she had nearly forgotten about the folder in her hands. She had
taken copies of the letters sent to Agent Morris so that she could
cross-reference them to the letters sent to Francine Taylor. There were four
letters addressed to Elizabeth Morris. Scully had gone to the Georgetown Police
Department to try and find out where the rest of Francine Taylor's mail would
be. After a quick flash of her badge, she had gained entrance to the evidence
room. The final letter to Francine Taylor was there. Scully got a copy of it,
after flashing her badge once more, and saved it for later reference.
She had read all eight letters and there was something she couldn't quite touch
on yet. There was something odd about them. There was a little voice whispering
in the back of her mind to read them again. She sat on the couch and pulled the
sheets of paper out of the manila folder. She paid specific attention to the
dates at the top of all the letters. There was something to them, she was sure.
Suddenly, it hit her. Francine Taylor had been missing at the time she received
the fourth and final letter notifying her of Michael Donovan's death. However,
when they were found, the time of death estimated for the two officers were only
hours apart. Scully couldn't be sure, but it seemed to her that this killer was
trying to…to what? Is he writing these letters not necessarily telling what has
already happened, but what will happen? Francine should have received a letter
telling her Michael was dead. But, if they were both killed around the same
time, then Michael wasn't dead when the letter was sent. But that doesn't make
any sense. Unless, he sends out the final letter then waits to kill them. But
why? A chance to let them be rescued? What the hell?
She read the letters over and over again, trying to find similarities. The last
letters to both Francine and Elizabeth were exceptionally taunting. Over and
over again he wrote that it was okay that they couldn't save him. It was okay,
and these men died forgiving them. But when Scully tried to think of these men
not being dead yet…that was nearly too much for her to fathom. There was no
doubt in her mind though, that Michael Donovan did not die as specified in the
letter. The letter telling of his death was dated May 31, a Sunday. Mulder last
saw Francine Taylor on the 29th, which was a Friday. The letter was postmarked
June 1st and probably reached her house on the 2nd. Their bodies were found
early the 2nd and they had been dead anywhere from 12-15 hours. Scully had
requested the autopsy reports on them and noted the name of the coroner who had
done not only Taylor and Donovan's autopsy, but Murphy's as well. It was another
old friend of hers, Dr. Sydney Dawson. She would pay Dr. Dawson a visit bright
and early the next morning. Perhaps Syd would be able to provide her with a
little insider information not only on the two Georgetown officers, but on Agent
Murphy as well.
It was 12:30 and there wasn't much more she could do for the day. She had gotten
names and numbers of the initial victims' families (all but the 18-year-old
woman). That would be an avenue for her to explore tomorrow. It was far too late
to be phoning grieving families. She could read the autopsy reports again, just
as she could read the letters to Elizabeth and Francine…again. She knew she
didn't want to sleep. She knew she didn't want to eat (especially not after she
had had such a hard time keeping her lunch down all day.) Scully turned on the
TV and flipped through the channels, ignoring the siren call of her purloined
possessions. She still felt the weight of the ring in her pocket. She still had
Mulder's plain gray T-shirt in her purse along with the shower gel. Scully had
also stuffed the photographs in there once she got to her car. She still had the
notebook Agent Fowley had mistakenly thought was hers.
Scully turned off the television and dug into her pocket. She retrieved the ring
and held it in her hand, marveling at the sheer weight of it. It was a simple
signet ring with the Oxford crest imprinted on it. On the inside of the ring
were the tell tale marks of an engraving worn away with time. She could make out
"F.W. Mulder" and then a date. She couldn't make out the date, but she was sure
that it was his graduation date. Scully felt ridiculous doing so, but she
attempted to slip the ring on her finger. It fell off of every finger and just
barely stayed on her thumb. She sat there a minute, rubbing her finger over the
smooth gold. Mechanically, she unfastened her chain from around her neck and
slipped the ring on it. She put the necklace back on and touched the ring to her
skin. On one level, it felt funny…hokey almost. On another level, a much deeper
level, it felt right. She toyed with it a few moments before she got up and got
her purse from the counter where she had dropped it upon coming in.
She pulled out the T-shirt and shower gel. In Scully's mind, there was no better
time for a shower.
She was unprepared for the onslaught of memories that would assault her when she
lathered the masculine scent up and down her arms. It was what Mulder had
smelled of on their last night together. She inhaled and filled her lungs up
with Mulder. How odd he could be so far away, and yet she was feeling closer to
him than she had in ages. After the shower, she wrapped herself in her robe and
went into her room. The T-shirt was on the bed. Scully opened her underwear
drawer and began rifling through it. What she found next made her freeze.
Boxers. Black, silk boxers. Mulder's boxers. She remembered how they got there.
Mulder's apartment had been fumigated and Scully invited him to use her couch.
They must have gotten mixed up in her laundry. That didn't matter now.
She snatched them up and slid them up her hips over her panties. She pulled the
T-shirt over her head. She ran her fingers through her wet hair and closed her
eyes. He was there, around her, with her. Scully didn't want to open her eyes.
She just stood there, listening.
Nobody down here but the FBI's most unwanted.
Hope you brought your cowboy boots.
I think it's bile. –
Is there any way I can get it off my fingers quickly without betraying my cool
exterior?
Come on Scully, it will be a nice trip to the forest.
Whatever tape you've found in that VCR, it isn't mine. –
Good, because I put it back in that drawer with all those other videos that
aren't yours.
We're exhuming…your potato.
It feels good to put my arms around you. Both of them.
Scully, should we be picking out china patterns, or what?
Have the Father say a few Hail Mulders for me.
You try any of that Tailhook crap on me, Scully; I'll kick your ass!
I was told once that the best way to regenerate body heat is to crawl naked into
a sleeping bag with somebody else who is already naked. –
Well, maybe if it rains sleeping bags you'll get lucky.
Hey, Scully. Is this demonstration of boyish agility turning you on at all?
I was thinking about this case. Maybe it's not witchcraft after all. Maybe
there's a scientific explanation.
My one in five billion…
You keep me honest. You make me whole…
Her eyes snapped open. For the first time in days she didn't feel like crying.
Her soul, her body was tired. She was waging a constant battle in herself. She
was telling herself that she wasn't doing enough, but on the other hand, she
couldn't think of what else to do. She had worked tirelessly for days, and for
what? She was no closer to finding Mulder than she ever was.
Mulder. She said the name over and over in her mind. How could he feel so close
when he was so far away? Scully inhaled and expelled a sigh. How could he not
feel close when you've got him practically wrapped around you? His scent, his
clothes…how much closer can you get to someone without being in his skin?
A lot closer.
As much as he felt like her other half, there had always been something missing.
Something intangible that had almost been touched upon once, in a hallway, not
too long ago. A sharp sting had stripped away anything that might have been
though. One tiny insect changed their path, or had it kept their path from
changing? For what wasn't the first time, Dana Scully contemplated being so
close to Fox Mulder. Not only physically close, but emotionally and spiritually
close as well. If she thought hard enough, she could feel him in her arms. His
forehead had felt smooth and slightly damp with sweat. She remembered feeling
his pulse under her fingertips. She could absently remember his thumb stroking
the side of her face. She had felt his breath on her face…so close…just an inch
closer…
"Dammit Dana, stop it!"
Scully hadn't realized that she had spoken out loud until she heard the silence
afterward. She took a few shaky breaths and decided that she had abused her body
for long enough. If she couldn't eat, the very least she could do for herself
would be to get a decent night's sleep. She walked slowly and silently to her
bed. Scully pulled back the comforter and got in, realizing how long it had been
since she had been in her bed. The night Mulder was kidnapped.
Don't you mean 'abducted?' Her mind taunted her.
Po-tay-to, Po-tah-to…The Mulder voice echoed out from the back of her mind one
last time.
Scully nearly turned off the light, but thought better of it. She was beginning
to dislike the dark. It was lonely. Scully just lay there, eyes closed, willing
sleep to come. She tried deep breathing, counting backwards from one hundred,
but nothing worked. She was still wide-awake.
Dammit.
She tried turning off the light. She tried switching positions. She tried
getting out of bed and doing jumping jacks, sit-ups and push-ups. Nothing was
working for her. As she settled back on the pillows, she couldn't shake the
feeling that she was forgetting something. It was that nagging feeling...Scully
sat up in bed and, while fingering the ring on her necklace, thought about what
she could be forgetting.
Scully got out of bed and wandered about the apartment, checking her windows,
and making sure that her faucets were turned off. She saw the light blinking on
her answering machine. That's it. Didn't check the machine. She hit the red
button on her answering machine and listened. One message from her mother, one
from Skinner, and the last one was from Karen Williams.
"Hey Dana…I guess if you were there you'd pick up by now. Well, I have those
results you wanted. I was thinking that maybe we could get together sometime and
have some lunch. I spoke with Sydney Dawson and she's up for it as well. So,
maybe this week or next. You pick the place. I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow…I
have information for you. I can only hope it'll help. See ya."
A smile crossed Dana's face for a moment. She was glad to hear from her friend.
She had lived with Karen Williams and Sydney Dawson while she was earning her
doctorate. They all ended up being housemates with one thing in common: all
three women wanted to join the Federal Bureau of Investigation. It was odd that
they ended up not only in the same school, but actually living together. I mean,
what were the odds?
Relieved that she had found the annoyance that had been keeping her up. It was
only when she turned to go back to her room did she see what had actually been
singing the siren song keeping her up. The black and white composition notebook
was right where Scully had set it down carefully. Right now, her fingers were
itching to read the words. She needed to read the book…to read Mulder's
thoughts.
"Not exactly my style of late night reading…" she picked up the book and went
back to her bedroom. She sunk down into the mattress and pulled the covers up
protectively across her chest. The notebook lay in her lap, closed. She couldn't
imagine what he had been thinking when he decided to keep a journal. Scully
steadied herself and opened the book. She began to read Mulder's tiny printing.
Late January, 1997
She has cancer. My young, beautiful, energetic Scully has cancer. I know now
that she has suspected it for a while. So why couldn't she have come to me
earlier? I would have been there with her through the tests. I would have given
her all the strength I have left in me. Why does she feel she has to do this
alone?
We just got back from Allentown. She was released from the hospital early this
morning and we drove back with her mother earlier this afternoon. She refused to
talk to either one of us about it. About any of it. How are we going to survive
this if she won't talk about it? As we were standing in that hospital hallway
after Penny Northern died, all I wanted to do was take her in my arms and kiss
all the pain away. But she pulled away from me. For a tiny moment I saw in her
eyes the love for me that I know is there, and for that tiny moment I was sure
that she was going to open herself to me and allow me entrance into her soul.
And then as quickly as it came, it was gone. She had retreated from me as she
always does.
If she thinks that I am going to allow her to fight this on her own, then she
has another thing coming. It's because of me that she was abducted in the first
place. It's because of me that she has cancer. It's because of me that she can
never have the children that I know she desires. It's because of me that she is
dying. And if it's the last thing I ever do in this life, I am going to find the
people responsible for this and make them pay.
I swear to you, Scully, that you are not going to die because of me and my
fucking quest for the truth. I am going to find a cure for your cancer and you
are NOT going to die. I won't allow it. Call me a selfish shit if you will, but
I cannot live without you. And sweetheart, we have too much to accomplish in
this life together for you to go and die on me.
Scully found herself breathing heavily, trying to circumvent any more tears from
falling. She had promised herself that she wouldn't cry any more, but she wasn't
doing well with that promise so far. Of all of the experiences in her life, her
cancer was what changed her the most. The cycle of the illness from beginning to
end took such an unbelievable toll on her. She still remembered the
treatments…Penny's death. Her own journal that she had written like a letter to
Mulder. She had planned for him to read it after she was dead and gone,
something to ease his pain. And what had he done? He went and read it after she
had made the decision to live. To fight the cancer like she had been raised to
fight every other adversity she had to face. But no, Fox Mulder had to barge
into her deepest, innermost thoughts and read them. Just like you're doing now?
She concentrated on her breathing and waited until the tightness in her chest
dissipated. She turned a few pages and started to read again.
February 24, 1997:
I needed to take a few minutes away from our current case, a plane crash in
upstate NY, to write some of my thoughts. Yesterday was her birthday. 33 years
old. I gave her a key chain. I really don't know why, of all the lovely and
thoughtful gifts I could have given her, I had to choose a stupid key chain.
Maybe it was my way of telling her that I expect to be giving her many gifts,
better gifts, for years to come. Maybe I just thought it was a pretty cool
keychain. She said she liked it…and she had a whole bunch of symbolic things to
tie into that key chain, which is good, because I basically suck at the
symbolism of gifts. This is not going to be the last birthday gift I ever give
her. It's not the last because she is not going to die. Not from this cancer.
Happy birthday, Scully.
The tightness had returned, but the tears had not begun to fall yet. She
wouldn't let them fall. She packed her emotions down inside her and willed
herself to be strong. She could do this. She flipped further into the book.
April 1997:
She told me tonight that she was given this disease to make me believe. To make
me believe in the lie that I have been fed since the day Sam was taken from me.
To make me believe that aliens exist here among us. What the fuck!? I already
believed! They are killing her to make me believe in something that I already
believed in?
When she first told me I felt as though she had reached inside me, pulled my
heart out, and stomped her pretty little feet on it. And then I remembered just
which one of us is actually dying.
I'm sorry, Scully. I told you that I would help you and I haven't. It seems as
though I am the one killing you. I realize now that we have been going at this
all wrong. Scully, I love you, and I don't want you to die. I want nothing more
than for you…us… to have a normal, happy life. Is that even possible with me
around? This journal is for you, Scully, and I have labeled it as such. I know
that you are going to find it someday…someday after I'm gone? And you will read
it. That's why I haven't left a note. Everything you need to know about me and
how I feel about you is in here. I hope in the end, once you get past all the
hurt and the anger that you will feel towards me, that you will be able to read
this and find some comfort in my words. I hope, Scully, that you can forgive me.
I don't want to leave you. I want to be with you forever. But that's not
possible right now, Scully. You deserve to live. Have a good life and always
remember that souls come together again and again. I will see you again. Of that
much I promise.
Goddammit! What I'd give to get my hands on the cigarette smoking, cancer
ridden, tar stained son of a fucking bitch. He deserves to suffer like he's
making her suffer. The same way he's making me suffer. Sometimes I wonder if
this is what it's all about, to make my life a living, infernal hell. He's doing
too good a job at it for that not to be it. They know that I don't give a rat's
ass if I live or die. Through Scully is the only way they can hurt me.
Am I a depressing fuck, or what?
Obviously I am still here. Perhaps it was divine intervention on Saint Scully's
behalf. God knows I wouldn't have chosen myself to live right now. Miraculously,
I have been given the chance to help her without having to take my own life.
I've killed a man and now have asked her to lie. If I could have it completely
my way, she wouldn't be involved in this at all. But this is her life and she
deserves to have a part in saving it.
I just got back from seeing Frohike, Langly, and Byers. While she was at Bureau
headquarters testifying in front of an FBI joint panel committee, I was with the
guys. I gained entrance into the Pentagon's highest level security and found
what I had hoped to be her cure. De-ionized water. Goddamn motherfucking
de-ionized water. I sure am one foolish fuck-head. How could I have believed
that a cure actually existed? I'm sorry, Scully. I'm so sorry.
She's dying. She's really dying this time. She's in the hospital, and short of a
miracle, she's not going to live much longer. When I walked into the ICU and saw
her in that bed hooked up to all those machines, I doubled over in pain. It
physically hurt me to see her like that. I felt as though someone had stabbed me
in the stomach. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see straight. It hurts more than
anything has ever hurt me before. I vaguely remember Skinner…God, I hope I
didn't hit him…everything's just…I don't know…a blur.
Oh god, Scully. I can't lose you. I NEED you in my life. I can't live without
you. Don't you understand that? You are the other half of my soul, Scully, and
if you were to leave me, I couldn't survive. Please, Dana, you have to fight
this. There are so many things that I want…no, need to tell you and I will be
damned if I say them to you on your deathbed. Please don't leave me. Don't leave
me.
I have been given a chance to save Dana Scully's life. He wants me to join him.
I was really considering his offer, to join the men I have grown to despise. I
nearly took it too, but once again Dana Scully saved me from myself. She doesn't
know she did, but she did. I wanted to see her, to talk to her, to tell her what
I was going to do. Why? I don't know if I wanted her to talk me out of it or
what. I don't know why I went to the hospital last night. I know that even
though it might save her now, if she ever found out what I had done…I think it
would kill her.
I realized something today. Somewhere along the way, Dana Katherine Scully
managed to work her way into my heart and become the central focus of my life. I
used to hold that place for Sam. Never in a million years did I think someone
else could take up that space. But Scully has done just that.
I saw my sister last night. At least I think she is my sister. She told me some
things that make a hell of a lot of sense and explain an awful lot and yet,
there are still so many things that have been left unexplained. For every answer
she gave me, I had five more questions. But it doesn't really matter whether or
not she is really Samantha because my sister is no longer the reason I live my
life. I don't think she has been for a long time actually. Scully is the reason
I live. It's because of her that I continue to inhale and exhale and keep on
keeping on. And now I have the chance to tell her exactly how I feel. Knowing me
though…I've chickened out before…why should this time be any different?
I don't know what put her cancer into remission. I don't think any of us will
ever know. I'm not one to believe in miracles, but this instance really makes me
think… All that matters to me is that my Scully has been returned to me. I know
that remission is not the same as cure. I know that her cancer could return at
any moment, but damnit, she's here with me and I am not going to let this
opportunity go to waste.
I only have one belief now. I believe in Scully. Sweetheart (God help me if I
ever slip and call you that to your face), I believe in you and I promise you
that I will never take you for granted again. You are my life.
The tears she had sworn she would not shed were falling, streaming from her
eyes. She had thought there were no more tears left. She had promised herself
that she wouldn't be weak any more. She had promised herself that before she had
ventured into Mulder's most intimate thoughts. She had found the truth from the
man who trusted no one.
Of all of the experiences she had ever had in her life, those few days were
probably the ones that had changed her the most. Every minute, every second of
those days from Mulder showing up at her apartment late at night, proclaiming it
"too crowded" to collapsing right before she could hand the board some
conclusive evidence on a silver platter, to Mulder…Mulder there whenever he
could be. His being there had always been a comfort and a pain to her. He eased
her loneliness and sorrow at a time when it was at it's peak. On the other hand,
he caused her pain; immense, crushing, deep pain when she began to consider that
she would never again be able to hold his hand. No more would she be able to
dash his theories with a raise of her eyebrow. No more would she be there when
he called her in the middle of the night, knowing full well that neither of them
was sleeping. He had helped her through many hardships in her life, but none
affected her like her cancer had.
Scully closed the book. She was still crying, but it wasn't so much the pain of
remembering her cancer as it was seeing what the ever stoic Fox Mulder had
really been thinking during that time. The gash her soul had been suffering from
lately began to throb anew. Scully rested back on her pillows and stared at the
ceiling.
"Oh Mulder…where are you?"
2:00 AM
She fell asleep, tears still wet on her face.
She was walking down a dark alley. There was something familiar about it, but
she couldn't quite put her fingers on it. She had been there before. Familiarity
struck. The alley where Mulder had been taken.
She felt as though someone were watching her, following her. She started to walk
faster, needing desperately to escape the someone or something that she knew was
stalking her. Her heart was beating rapidly, her breaths were coming out in
short frantic pants, her face became flush with sweat. All of a sudden, she was
hit with a massive pain in her forehead. Right where her tumor had been. Her
vision became blurry and she became weak. Panic was setting in and Scully knew
she needed to escape it. She needed to escape this alley.
She turned a corner. She was no longer in a dark alley. Wherever she was, there
was a lot of light. Looking around, Scully saw that she was in a church.
Everything before her was seen in muted shades of white and gray except for a
few things, which were seen in brilliant color. A lone figure stood at the altar
in the front of the church. Next to the figure was a coffin and flowers, so many
flowers. She could see that the flowers were brilliantly colored in reds,
yellows, and purples. The figure at the altar was in all black, except for a
single red rose sitting in a buttonhole.
She walked farther into the church, taking in the scene before her. No one was
in the church except for the man at the altar and her. He didn't seem to notice
that she was there. As she got closer, Scully saw who the figure was. It was
Mulder and he was crying. She heard him saying things about her. About how much
he respected her as an agent, as a human being. He regretted never having said,
'I love you' and calling her 'sweetheart' to her face. He looked into the coffin
and screamed her name. 'Scully! I'm so sorry.' He fell to his knees and buried
his head in his hands.
She ran up to the front of the church wanting to comfort him. Wanting to take
him into her arms and tell him everything was going to be all right. She wanted
to tell Mulder that she was here and she was never going anywhere again. She
stopped abruptly as she reached the coffin. Mulder was no where to be seen. He
had fallen to his knees right there, but now he was gone. She looked wildly
around the church. Scully was alone and scared. She had always been afraid of
death. It was the one thing that was completely out of her control. The coffin
sat silently before her. Slowly, she approached it. She didn't want to look in
that oak box and see herself lying there, but curiosity got the better of her.
She held back a scream as she saw the face of the person in the coffin. Mulder.
Scully sat up in bed, her heart racing. She looked at her clock: 3:48. She had
only been asleep for a few hours. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to, but she
settled back on the pillows and tried desperately to relax. If her body hadn't
been so overworked, she probably would have had an easier time staying awake.
Sleep claimed her a mere 10 minutes later.
7:00 AM
July 9, 1998
Scully rolled over, sunlight pricking at her eyelids. She opened her eyes slowly
and looked at her clock. The glowing digits glared at her, blinking 7:02. She
lay on her side and stared at the wall. Images from the night's nightmare
flashed in her mind. She didn't want to get up. She didn't want to move. She
didn't want to be. All the fight had been sapped out of her. She had been
working so hard, so tirelessly for the past few days, and she knew she had a
long road still ahead of her. Even after the whopping five hours of sleep, she
was exhausted. Her mind hadn't been resting at all, even while she slept. She
looked at Mulder's notebook that was still on the bed beside her. She closed her
eyes and centered herself for a second. You can't give up on him. It's only been
a few days. He's still alive, Dana. You know he's alive. Alive and waiting for
you to get up off your lazy ass and find him. So get on with it girlfriend.
Heave yourself out of bed and get to work. You have another big day ahead of
you.
She took a quick shower, more to wake herself up than anything else. She
couldn't resist using Mulder's shower gel once more. The subtle scent of
sandalwood was comforting to her. She dressed in chinos, a white polo shirt and
brown loafers. She figured she would take Karen up on that lunch offer when she
dropped in to see her a little later that morning. She only hoped Sydney would
be available as well. She really needed some company.
9:30 AM
Dr. Karen Williams office
"Dana, I just want you to know that the only reason I'm doing this for you is
because you're my friend. To say this is against protocol would be an
understatement of grand proportions."
Scully shifted uncomfortably in the padded seat across from her friend. She
could tell from the look on Karen's face when she walked in the room that she
had something important to say. "Karen…I just don't know. I can't explain it. I
know it's against every rule in the book, but I think I'm the only one who can
do this. I'm the only one who can solve this. I'm…his only hope."
Special Agent Dr. Karen Williams looked hard at her housemate from so long ago.
She had never seen Dana so beaten down, so weary, so frustrated. She didn't want
to think what would happen if Fox Mulder's body was found. She chewed her bottom
lip thoughtfully as she considered the best way to tell Dana her news. "Dana…I
don't know how to tell you this…the blood is Agent Mulder's. There is no doubt
at all about that. The shell…I ran it by ballistics and what they have come up
with so far is fairly unremarkable. The shell is from a .357 Sig Sauer. There
isn't much ammunition available yet because it's a newer model. Actually, it's
what a lot of the agents use. I've got one, you probably do too, as well as
Agent Mulder. There are a few interesting things about this gun in particular."
She picked up the report on her desk and read from it. "Actually, the most
useful bit of information I can give you is that this model of Sig Sauer
commonly exceeds 12 inches in penetration tests. If you go back to where you
found this, I'd be willing to bet that you'll actually find a bullet. I won't
make any promises, but if you look…" She trailed off. "Dana, if Mulder got shot
in the leg like you seem to think he did, the bullet may have gone clean
through, possibly shattering the bone. If you find that bullet, that will
probably open up some avenues for you. It would also…well, to put it bluntly, if
you find a bullet in that alleyway, at least you'll know that it isn't lodged
somewhere inside of him."
Scully could only nod. Her mind was whirling. Hearing Karen say these things
only made Mulder's situation more real. She felt the gun in her holster. Yes,
she had shot Mulder once but it really was for his own good. She couldn't
imagine the damage that had been done to him by this stranger. For a moment, her
personal mind stepped aside as her medical mind took over. According to what
Charlie had told her, Mulder had been shot in the calf. At such close range, it
was probable that the bullet did go clean through. However, it more than likely
would have shattered the bone in the process. It was unlikely that if Mulder had
been shot in the calf at close range, the bullet would have gone through only
muscle. She then thought about the infection that would be raging through him by
now if he hadn't gotten any medical attention…it was likely that he hadn't.
Scully came back to earth when she realized that Karen had asked her a question.
"I'm sorry. I--I wasn't…"
"Dana, it's okay…you're going through an awful lot of stress." Her friend got up
from her chair and sat in the seat next to Scully. "I just want you to know that
you don't have to go through this alone. If you need anything…protocol or no, I
want you to know that I'm here."
Scully swallowed hard. "Thanks."
Karen stood up and leaned against her desk, arms folded across her chest. She
was trying to look intimidating but at only an inch taller than Scully, she
wasn't doing a very impressive job of it. "Now, Special Agent Dana Katherine
Scully, the most important thing here besides finding your partner--alive--is to
take care of yourself. I don't need to tell you how you're looking, I think
you're well aware of the fact that you look like shit."
"No need to mince words Karen, just give it to me straight."
"Dana…the only way you're going to live through this and find him is if you're
at your best. You won't be at your best if you don't take care of yourself
first. And that, is where I come in."
"What are you going to do? Eat for me?"
"No, close though. I'm going to make sure you get your one balanced meal for the
day. Syd and I are taking you to Kelly's."
"Kelly's? I always pegged you more of the La Brasserie crowd."
"Well, excuse me for saying, but I think the last thing you need is a hearts of
palm salad with watercress. You need something with more sustenance. You, my
friend, need real food."
"I don't have much of an appetite at the moment."
"Of course you don't. It's 9:45 in the morning. You have plenty of time to work
up an appetite. Don't you have some other appointments around this place? AD
Skinner has been asking about you. Now, you've been working with him for…nearly
six years? He knows something's up Scully. He asked me if I had seen you
recently."
She looked panicked. "What did you tell him?"
Her friend smiled. "I told him the truth of course. I told him that if you're
doing anything that's not kosher, I sure don't know about it." There was a
wicked gleam in her eyes. Scully felt her limbs get heavy with relief. "But
Dana, be advised that he's checking up on you. If you're going to do this, do it
right. If he calls, talk to him. Don't brush him off because that'll just pique
his suspicion. If he wants to meet with you, meet with him. Act normal and he'll
leave you alone. I think he's concerned about you though. It wouldn't surprise
me if he had assigned an agent to you.
"What?"
"Dana, look at it from his perspective. He's lost one agent, he doesn't need to
lose another one. To the untrained eye, it looks like you're falling apart. To
someone who doesn't know you…" She trailed off. "Listen, I know we're
practically in different worlds in this place. I'm doing what you had initially
wanted to do…and you're…doing something you never dreamed you'd be a part of.
But even though we're floors apart, I hear things. I've heard about Mulder. I
heard about Chicago and VinylRight. It looked to everybody that he was
unraveling then. He was pretty hot gossip for a while. You know, the stress
finally got to him and all. What I'm saying is, Dana, don't give in to
appearances. You might feel like you're falling apart. You might not feel in
control. Don't let anyone know that. If you can convince the world that you're
calm, cool, and collected, then you've got the hardest part down."
At that point, Scully resolved to keep it together. She had made similar
promises to herself during this ordeal, but hadn't done a very good job of
keeping those promises. Come on Dana, you're the Ice Queen, act the part. She
nodded and cleared her throat. "So, what time are we meeting for lunch?"
"It'll be less crowded if we go around one."
"One it is then." Scully got up to leave. "I have to go see Sydney. I'll mention
it to her when I see her."
"Who do you think suggested it?"
Dr. Sydney Dawson's office
10:15
Scully could hear Sydney before she saw her. Apparently someone was on the
receiving end of the agent's anger.
"Well when you can explain to me…no, I don't much care. Now, if you can explain
to me how a man can be shot…for God's sake, will you let me finish?!?! Then
explain…don't go giving me your…oh, that's bull and you know it. The man was
shot. I do an autopsy 12 hours later and…well I would if I could only…okay, this
is what I want to know. I want to know how a 21 year old man in perfect health
can be shot and less than a day later, I do an autopsy and it looks like a
friggin' maggot fest! If I hadn't known for sure that he was shot that
morning…No, I don't know why he was rushed over here…well, she would have
if…Sure. Fine. Whatever."
Scully heard the phone slam down on the receiver accompanied by an irritated
sigh. She chose that minute to enter. The scowl on the agent's face vanished and
was replaced with a smile filled with relief.
"Finally, a sane person."
"What was that all about?"
She pushed away from the desk and tucked a stray lock of brown hair behind her
ear. "Okay, here's the deal. There's this hostage thing that went down in North
Carolina a few days ago. Disgruntled employee or some sort of thing. Anyhoo,
this moron tries to be Mr. Macho-Hero-Stud and got shot. Okay, now here's where
it gets weird. For some reason unbeknownst to me, the powers that be want this
guy's autopsy, like, yesterday. So, it goes to me. It was supposed to go to
you…don't ask me, I don't know…but you're on leave--supposed to be on leave--so
I guess I'm the next best thing or something. So I beat feet over to the morgue
and do my slicing dicing schtick. I got no further than the "Y" incision when I
stopped. The guy was totally rotten inside! Decomposition that would lead me to
believe he had been dead…anywhere from 36 to 72 hours at least. The body didn't
look that bad. I mean, it was bad, don't get me wrong, but it wasn't THAT bad. I
would have guesstimated he'd been dead…oh, 24 hours or so. And even that…I mean,
when do you mistake someone who's been dead 12 hours for someone who's been dead
for 24 hours?" She paused and took a breath. "I know what you're here for. So,
how about a little privacy?" She got out of the chair and closed the door. She
went back to her desk and sat down, busying herself with trying to find
something on her desk.
"Look at the back of his neck."
Her head snapped up and she took off her reading glasses. "What?"
"Your 21 year old man. Examine his neck."
"And what, pray tell, will I be looking for?"
"A puncture wound. Have you gotten any tox screens back?"
"Not yet."
"If I'm right, you'll find a toxin in his system."
"Dana Katherine, where are you going with this?"
"I…I saw something similar to it once."
She shrugged, "Okay…though I can't say that I know what I'm looking for."
"You'll know it when you see it."
Sydney looked at her and raised her eyebrow. God, she picked that up from me.
"Dawson, trust me for once." There was a beat of silence, then her friend
nodded.
"Okay. Now…you." The glasses went to perch on her nose again. There were several
manila folders on the desk. Scully could see the names typed on the labels. Two
of them had come from the Georgetown PD. One of them was Agent Murphy's. She had
already seen the autopsy reports for Taylor and Donovan. She had waited to look
at Agent Murphy's until she was with Sydney since Sydney had done the autopsy.
Scully sat down across from her friend. There was one trait about Sydney she
liked. The woman never minced words…well aside from a little bit of incessant
babbling when she was frustrated.
"What killed him?"
"You're asking my professional opinion as a coroner?"
"Yes."
"Drowned. No two ways about it. The boy drowned."
"You're sure?"
"Dana, come on!" She whipped the file folder open and began pointing things out.
"First of all, there was significant irritation of the mucous membranes. There
was also mucous in his windpipe. He had some sort of water plant, possibly a
stem of a water lily or something, grasped in his hand. There was an inordinate
amount of water from the water hazard in his stomach and if that wasn't enough,
I compared the chloride content and the magnesium content in the right and left
ventricles of the heart! He drowned, Dana."
"Calm down Sydney. I just needed to know because…well, I'm not one to listen to
rumors or anything but…"
Up went the eyebrow again. "What did you hear?"
"That you had a difficult time determining the cause of death."
Her voice softened as she took of her glasses. "Dana…why do you think I made
sure? Why do you think I went so far to prove he had drowned? I had to do it for
myself. When I got Murphy…God, that was one of the hardest things I ever had to
do… Well, just from looking at him, I would have been sure he had died from his
injuries or perhaps internal bleeding or from an infection…but once I saw the
plant in his hand, I had to dig deeper and make sure. I had to make sure there
was no question about it. Eric Murphy was alive when he was dumped at that golf
course. Now, just a personal opinion, I don't think he was very alive. In fact,
I think it might have even been possible for his murderer to have thought he was
already dead. I also think he was unconscious when he was dropped in the water."
"Why the plant in his hand then?"
"The shock of the water probably woke him up."
"Have you told anyone this?"
"Dana, it's all right here in black and white. If anyone questions what I found,
then all they have to do is take a look at what I did and what I found. I know,
the AD knows and you know."
Scully digested this information. "Have you looked at the other evidence?"
"No, I just did the autopsy."
"I think you need to look at something with me."
"Scully, what do you need me for? You made better grades than I did. You're just
as good a doctor…"
"Syd, I just want to make sure I'm not going crazy. I want to make sure that I'm
not grasping at straws…I want to make sure that if I have found what I think
I've found…well…"
"Well what?"
"I need to find out why no one else has found what I've found, that's all."
"Dana, you're not usually so damn cryptic. What's going on?"
"I don't want to get into it right now. Later tonight, you need to come to my
place. Everything I have is there. We need to pick this apart from a totally
medical point of view. I think that's the key here."
"Dana, pardon my French, but what the shit are you talking about?"
Scully stood up, mumbling to herself. "I think I may just have found
something…I'm not sure though. Listen, I'll tell you guys more about it at
Kelly's. And then we'll work on it tonight." She headed for the door. "I'll meet
you at Kelly's at one." And she left, making her way to her car.
She was nearly there. So close, just a bit closer…
"Agent Scully!"
Shit.
"Agent Fowley." She acknowledged her fellow agent with a curt nod. "Has anything
turned up in the investigation?"
"A few things, nothing too solid, but a few potential leads. Actually, that's
what I wanted to talk to you about. Do you have a minute?"
She glanced at her watch. It was only 11:05. She had two hours to kill before
lunch. As much as Scully might not have wanted to talk with Agent Fowley, the
woman was the SAC in Mulder's case. She was working just as hard as Scully was
trying to find him. This woman was her friend, her colleague, her…
Competition? Come on Dana, get a hold of yourself. She's trying to find a
missing agent, just like you are. She's working just as hard, losing just as
much sleep, getting just as frustrated. You're being unreasonable. The woman is
just doing her job.
"Agent Scully, I'm glad I caught up with you. I was wondering if you'd mind
answering a few questions for me?"
"Questions?" Scully was perplexed. Of course, you were the last one to see
Mulder. They'll probably want as many details as possible to try and find him.
"Sure, not a problem."
"Well, we could either go up to my office or maybe do this over a cup of
coffee…"
"Well, as long as we're here let's just go up to your office." Dana followed as
Diana turned and headed into the building. They made small talk during the short
trip and both of them were feeling extreme sensations of awkwardness. Once in
her smallish office, Diana took a seat behind her desk and Dana sat in one of
the other chairs facing the desk. Scully crossed her legs and patiently waited
for the questions to begin.
"When did you last see Agent Mulder?"
"July 4th, 1998."
"Around what time?"
"Well, we were together for a good chunk of the day. Actually, I last saw him at
about 2 AM, July 5th."
Diana paused and took a few notes. "You said you spent most of the day together.
Were you working on this case?" She sounded very uncomfortable.
"Not entirely. My mother invited Agent Mulder over for dinner with the rest of
our family. She often worries that he works himself too hard. He came over for
dinner and accompanied my family and me to a fireworks display at the local high
school. After that, he wanted to discuss the case we were working on. So from
about 10:30 until roughly 2:00 we discussed our case."
"Had you made any headway?"
"Basically, we discussed the injuries the victims had sustained. Really we just
rehashed a lot of things we had already discovered. We discussed the importance
of…" Here, her voice thickened, "the importance of watching out for each other
considering that the pattern that was emerging later."
"The pattern?"
Scully was sure Fowley knew what she was talking about, she just wanted to hear
it with her own ears. "The pattern of this killer targeting law enforcement
officers. Agent Mulder had expressed concern regarding this pattern."
For another hour, the questions continued. Scully hadn't expected Agent Fowley
to have so many questions for her. Scully answered each one dutifully and
honestly. Sure, she glazed over a few fine points but nothing important. Surely,
Agent Fowley didn't need to know that Scully had swiped a tube of shower gel
from the crime scene. She also didn't need to know that she herself had removed
something from the crime scene as well. Scully noticed that the dark haired
agent had been sniffing the air nonchalantly during the interview.
"Well, thank you very much for your time Agent Scully. I'll let you know of any
developments should they arise." She was beginning to look for something. Dana
speculated that she was probably looking for the source of the smell.
"I hope what I have been able to tell you will help."
"I'm sure it will. So, unless you have anything you need to add Agent Scully…"
Scully raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "No…no, that's about it. But do
keep me up to date on any developments, please."
"Absolutely."
Scully got up to leave.
"Agent Scully?"
"Yes?"
"This may seem like an odd question…but…do you smell something?"
"Like what?"
"Well…as absurd as this might sound…it smells like…well…" she trailed off.
"Like what?"
"Men's cologne. It's very subtle…but I can definitely catch a hint of…sandalwood
every now and then."
Scully shook her head. "I'm sorry, no I don't." It wasn't until she had closed
the door behind her when she realized that Mulder's shower gel had a very
distinct, masculine scent to it, edged with hints of sandalwood. She had become
accustomed to it and wasn't aware that she was smelling of "eau de Mulder." In
all honesty, Scully was surprised that Diana hadn't picked up on the scent
herself. She shrugged and looked at her watch. It was just about time for her to
meet Sydney and Karen at Kelly's. While Dana usually enjoyed the pub atmosphere,
she wasn't in the mood to eat. Over the past few days, her meals had come to
consist of a banana here or a slice of toast there. She had hardly been able to
keep her lunch with Agent Morris down at all. The very idea of a greasy
hamburger was exceptionally unappetizing at the moment. They were, however, her
friends and she knew they were worrying about her. She would show up and make a
valiant effort…even if that valiant effort came back later to haunt her.
Kelly's Irish Times
F Street
1:06 PM
Scully pushed the door open and was greeted with a savory smell. She looked
around for her friends and spotted them in a corner booth, far away from the hub
of activity otherwise known as the bar. She maneuvered through the crowd of
people and flopped down onto the seat. Karen was sipping on a Sprite and Sydney
was drinking what probably was a Diet Coke with a slice of lime in it. It was
her favorite non-alcoholic beverage for as long as Scully could remember.
Occasionally, she'd really mix it up and throw a slice of lemon in there, but
not often.
As Scully sat down, the beginnings of a joke involuntarily popped into her head.
A blonde, a brunette and a redhead walk into a bar…She looked at her old
housemates. Karen had light brown, nearly blonde hair and blue eyes framed with
lashes Scully would have killed for. Sydney's brown eyes were often hidden
behind reading glasses or were otherwise obscured by stray locks of hair that
often fell from her smooth bob. They were good friends to her and knew her
nearly inside and out. They were the only people she knew of who didn't
participate in the infamous office pool at all. She marveled now how three
people so different could live under one roof without killing each other. She
and Karen were the most similar though, both being neat and orderly people.
Sydney tried, but oftentimes, her mind was in so many different places at
once…she forgot herself and tended to be a bit more on the messy side.
Sydney was intense and chatty. Her moods could be, at times, mercurial. She was
also quite impatient which, in her line of work, had it's advantages. She liked
things to happen quickly and had no tolerance for people who couldn't keep up
the pace. If Karen hadn't been in the house to act as a buffer zone at times,
they wouldn't have ended up being so close for so long.
Karen was a different book altogether. She was more patient, more methodical,
and frankly easier to be around. However, she also loved being right and Scully
shuddered at the intensity at some of the debates the three of them had had. She
was also quite stubborn, though Scully would never say so to her face. As
sensitive as Karen was, Scully knew saying such a thing to her would have
bruised her ego to say the least.
Differences aside, she valued her friendship with the two women. She had even
learned to deal with the hungry look that would come across Sydney's face
whenever a certain Agent Mulder was in the room. It reminded Dana that he was
indeed, a damn fine looking man and it wasn't just her imagination.
A damn fine looking man who happens to be missing.
Dana jolted back to reality. She had lost herself in her reverie and for a split
second had thought her life was normal. Her insides twisted and she wanted
Mulder there so badly she actually felt physical pain. She found that she
couldn't focus on anything. Vaguely, she became aware that there was a waiter at
the table taking their orders.
"Grilled chicken salad for me, no tomatoes." Like the Diet Coke with lime, some
things never changed with Syd.
"I'd like your grilled chicken on a Kaiser bun. No pickles, please."
"Turkey club on wheat, toast the bread please." Scully figured that was bland
enough for her stomach to handle.
Lunch would have been fun had Scully not been elsewhere. She picked at her
sandwich, putting down half of it and saving the other half for later. Karen and
Sydney did not try to cheer her up, thankfully. They sat and talked about
everything and nothing at all. They philosophized and theorized when finally
they approached the taboo topic.
"Listen, I have a few things I need to check out later, but I need you two at my
place. I don't trust myself right now…I'm afraid I'm going to go looking for
things that aren't there. I would like you there to ground me. And keep in mind
that this is what is probably the biggest breach of protocol you'll ever be
involved in, so if you're not comfortable with that, tell me now." When she got
no response, she continued. "I have some very confidential papers that need to
stay between us. I had only intended for this to be for my eyes only, but I can
feel myself getting…too far. And with no one to reel me in…" She looked
imploringly at her friends, putting as much trust in them as she would in Mulder
at that moment.
Sydney answered her question. "Are you looking for some temporary backup?
Because if you are, I think you might have come to the right place. I'm up for
some covert operations any day. You should know that by now."
"Syd, this is a little more serious than stealing the answer sheet to our final
exam."
She smiled. "The higher the stakes, the sweeter the victory. I'm in."
"Count me in too. Just one question…why, Dana? Why are you doing this? I have to
know why you're not…well…helping. I'm sure if you told Agent Fowley…"
"I can't officially aid in the investigation because I'm supposed to be taking a
leave of absence. I'm sorry, that's not an option right now. I also think…"
Karen finished her sentence for her. "You think you can find him quicker than
they can."
Scully only nodded. When she found her voice again, she could only manage a few
words. "See you around eight?"
Dana Scully's Apartment
6:00 PM
She came in and flopped on the couch. She couldn't remember ever being so tired.
Her body was physically exhausted. Her fingers came to rest on the ring strung
on her necklace. It would be so easy…her eyes drifted shut. I'll just nap for a
minute or two.
It was so dark. She felt around her and could only feel cold, damp walls. A
basement. The musty smell assaulted her nose. In an effort to see, she opened
her eyes as wide as she could but still could not see through the thick
darkness. Unable to rely on sight, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the
sounds around her. She heard breathing; labored breathing. Something that
sounded like keys clinking together. Scully got on her hands and knees and felt
around on the floor for something that would clue her in as to where she was.
Her fingers came in contact with and grasped what felt like a thick chain. She
followed the length of chain slowly until she came in contact with a hand. She
felt the long fingers and knew instinctively who it was.
"Mulder." The word came out as a whisper.
"Dana…Dana…Scully? Where are you?" He sounded delusional.
She scooted closer to him and put a hand to his forehead. She felt the fever
immediately. She touched the damp pieces of hair stuck to his forehead and ran
her fingers through them soothingly. "It's okay Mulder…I'm here. We're going to
get you out of here."
"Scully…Scully…" On and on his hoarse whisper repeated her name.
She moved around in the dark, once she could feel him she sat next to him. He
lay down, resting his head in her lap.
"Oh God Scully…I didn't think you'd come. God, don't let me die here."
She could only hold him attempting to soothe the sobs that were escaping his
lips with increasing intensity. "Shh, I'm here Mulder. I'm here. Don't worry,
I'm here."
Scully awkwardly wrapped her arms around him, willing whatever strength was left
in her to transfer itself to Mulder's weakened body. "Be strong Mulder. I will
find you." She pressed her lips to his head and kissed the salty temple. He
turned his head and she kissed his forehead, burning with fever; his cheeks,
inflamed from the infection ravaging him; then his lips, parched with thirst.
Those lips began to move, forming words with only a whisper behind them.
"Scully? Scully, I'm sorry. So sorry I didn't…didn't tell you…"
"Tell me what?"
"That I…"
Scully jerked awake. She looked around for whatever it was that had snapped her
from her dream. Then, the knock at the door came again. She hefted herself up
from the couch and hurried to the door. She flung it open to be greeted by the
sight of Sydney and Karen. Sydney carried a large brown bag that smelled
suspiciously of Chinese food and Karen carried 2 six packs of cola. They were
going to need all the caffeine they could get.
The smile that had been on Sydney's face vanished. "My God Dana…what happened?"
She rushed into the apartment, dumping the bag on the kitchen counter. Karen
followed into the room and upon taking one look at Scully, engulfed her in a
hug.
"Oh Dana…I'm so sorry…"
Gently, she pushed Karen away. She looked at Sydney, quite sure the girl had
lost her mind. Then she felt it. She felt the moisture tracking down her face.
She brought a hand up to her cheek and looked at it. Her fingers were shiny with
newly shed tears. She turned and bolted for the bathroom. One look in the mirror
shocked the hell out of her. Her eyes were swollen, her nose was red, her face
was soaked with tears. She licked her lips and tasted the slightest hint of salt
on them.
"Oh my God…"
"Dana? Dana, are you alright in there?" Her friends were right outside the door
sounding quite alarmed.
Scully cleared her throat before answering. She had started not to trust her
voice. "I'm fine guys. Why don't you get some plates and set up the food on the
coffee table?" She turned the cold water on and rinsed her face. The cool liquid
did wonders for her flushed cheeks and tear stained face, but her eyes were
still quite red and swollen. "Oh well…that'll do for now." She muttered. She
exited the bathroom to see Karen with a plate of rice and chicken lo mein.
Sydney was busy forking shrimp lo mein on her plate. There was a small container
next to what she assumed was her plate. She didn't have to ask, she knew it
contained an order of Mongolian Beef. The scent might have caused her to
salivate, but Scully had no appetite. She decided she would put some on her
plate and pretend to pick at it. Then she would put it back in the refrigerator
for when she was really hungry.
Scully grabbed the file folder off of the dining room table and sat down
Indian-Style on the floor. She began going through it's contents.
"Okay, we've got autopsy reports, photographs, letters, interviews, a profile
and lab results courtesy of Karen."
"So, what exactly have you found so far?" Karen swallowed a mouthful of lo-mein
and took a swig of cola.
Scully looked at her legal pad. The conclusive evidence she had found so far was
pretty unimpressive. She had found where Mulder had been shot, the make and
model of the gun, an eyewitness account as well as a few wild theories even
Mulder would have been proud of. "Mulder was shot in an alleyway not far from
his apartment. He was jogging past at approximately 3 in the morning, possibly
later or earlier. Judging from an eyewitness account, a man parked a van nearby
and waited in the alley for Mulder and shot him as he jogged by. I have not had
a chance to go back to the crime scene to look for any trace of the bullet, but
given what Karen has told me about the gun, the likelihood of the bullet being
lodged in his leg are pretty slim. The most interesting thing I've noticed is
what I wanted to talk to you about. I was reading the autopsy reports you did on
Francine Taylor and Michael Donovan, Sydney. Taylor's probable cause of death
was a blow to the head, correct?"
"Well, her situation is remarkably similar to Agent Murphy's. I did find a
significant amount of water in her stomach as well as slight irritation of the
mucous membranes."
"So," Karen theorized, "she might have been alive when he dumped her body too?"
"Well, I think it was the blow to the head that ultimately killed her. Putting
her in the water hazard…he probably did that right after one final kick to the
head. She wouldn't have lived regardless, but the water certainly didn't help
any." Sydney spoke while thoughtfully chewing on her rice.
"And what about Donovan?" Scully began spooning the Mongolian Beef onto her
plate.
"Same thing. He was probably dying when he was dropped in the water, but it
wasn't the water that killed him." She picked up the report. "See…it's right
here…the top seven vertebrae were crushed, however there was some water in his
stomach too. My guess is that this guy broke Donovan's neck, dumping him into
the water hazard immediately afterward."
"Well, what about the other victims?" Scully asked.
Karen picked up a few sheets from the pile on the coffee table. "Well, you said
yourself that the first three victims didn't follow any sort of pattern.
And…there's no note of any drowning symptoms anywhere in these reports." She ate
another forkful of rice. "Of course, that doesn't mean anything…the coroner
could have deduced that they died due to their injuries and just dismissed the
water because they were found in the lake."
"Water hazard." Scully corrected her.
"Whatever, I don't play golf."
"So," Scully took a drink of soda. "Judging from what we have here, it would be
conceivable that the law enforcement officers might not have been dead just yet
when they were dumped in the water."
"More than just conceivable, Dana. It's quite likely. Why?"
Scully pulled the copies of the final letters to Elizabeth Morris and Francine
Taylor out of her folder. "According to these final letters, the men were
already dead."
Sydney took the letters and looked at the date. She handed them to Karen to look
at. "That's not the right date."
"No, it's not." Karen agreed. "But…maybe by putting them in the water, he
thought to make the time of death more difficult to determine?"
Scully took that as her cue to show her counterparts Mulder's profile of the
killer.
Sydney looked at it quietly. "Medical training…well, I can see why he didn't
pass the boards if he thought that putting bodies into a body of water in the
middle of summer would make the time of death difficult to determine. I mean,
maybe by a few hours, but not two days."
"Now ladies, here's the million dollar question." Karen leaned back against the
cushions. "Why hasn't anyone noticed this little anomaly before?"
"I have a theory."
"By all means, Dr. Scully, share that theory." Sydney smiled humorlessly.
"I think that he's counting on the fact that no one will be paying much
attention to his victims. He keeps moving on to bigger fish. Perhaps he figures
if he keeps the pace up, no one will be able to keep up. They'll be too involved
in trying to find Agent Mulder alive, they won't go back to the history of his
crimes. He doesn't think the law officials are smart enough to pick up on his
clue. Think about it…you read the letters looking for clues. You read the
letters over and over and over again until they're practically lodged in your
memory, never once paying any attention to the dates."
"He doesn't think we're very smart, does he?" Karen mused.
"He doesn't know what he's dealing with yet though." Scully's faith was
beginning to return slowly. "Okay, so what we're finding is that the final
letter is supposed to arrive when? Is it supposed to be…what is it supposed to
be? What is he trying to do?"
Karen's undergrad work in psychology came in at this point. "I think he's
playing a game with you, Dana. It's not the victims that he is interested in at
all. It's the survivors left behind. Donovan and Murphy…they were just the means
towards an end. With the exception of Francine Taylor, who is simply a case of
being in the wrong place at the wrong time, all the victims have been men…with
female partners. Dana, this guy has an obvious hatred towards women. Mulder
alludes to it in his profile. I think he is post dating the last letter as his
one final twist of the knife in the stomach of the woman he sends it to. I
wouldn't be surprised if he had somehow watched Elizabeth Morris as she read the
letters. He's a psychopath, Dana. He gets joy out of seeing others suffer….and
he knows that you will suffer more thinking that you could have saved Mulder
than you would if he just killed you."
This was something that Dana hadn't thought of. She had started to think that
maybe this guy had a vendetta to work out. She hadn't considered that, in the
end, Mulder would be right again. She was the one being targeted…and there was
no way for Mulder to prevent it. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"What makes you think he was watching Agent Morris?"
"Well, first of all he sent them to her home address. Second of all, I don't
know…it's just the impression that I get when I read these. He sounds close to
her. He takes on a tone of familiarity." She looked up from the letters.
"Dana…be careful."
Scully could feel things turning, and she wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

On to part 3