Work Text:
Again
by April Hayes
The room is dark. Curled in the corner of the couch he sits clutching the photograph of the two women. His eyes are shut, face contorted into a grimace of pain. Almost imperceivably, he rocks, softly murmuring "Not again… not again… not again…"
* * * * * * * * *
Four Weeks Earlier
Northern Virginia
2:10am
Scully sighed. The air was forcefully pushed between her pursed lips as she turned from the window and the expanse of the forest to the man sitting beside her. He did not seem to notice. He sat there, eyes staring ahead, methodically eating his sunflower seeds, setting the casings into a neat pile on the dashboard. A habit that she had long since given up braking.
She turned to face the front, to see if she could fathom what he was looking at. Looking, always looking. And she saw nothing. Typical.
They had been sitting in silence for nearly an hour. The only sound that could be heard was the soft melody on the radio. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant situation. Scully enjoyed the quiet company Mulder provided. She enjoyed it far more than she would have liked or admitted. How come she was out here in the middle of nowhere with him? <<"Because he asked. Because it was important to him.">> Simple reason, but almost frighteningly complex motives as to why that reason was good enough for her. She stopped that line of thought before it could progress to its inevitable end.
As much as she liked his company, this night had gone on for too long. If she weren't careful, it would be all too easy to fall asleep. She rested a cheek against the side window; the coolness refreshed her somewhat. She sighed again, louder this time. Mulder was still oblivious. She finally broke the silence.
"Mulder, tell me again what we are doing here." Scully turned to face him as she asked this far too familiar question.
His attention now hers, he turned to look at her. "I got a call. The person said they had some information concerning clandestine experiments that have been preformed on the unaware population."
"Yes, I know that." Her eyes rolled upwards. "We have covered that already. My question is what are we 'still' doing here. We have sat here for hours…" She motioned to the deserted road next to them. "…and not even one car has past by." She sighed and asked almost as if it was an afterthought. "Whose choice was it to meet out here anyway?"
"You act like I have an ulterior motive for getting you alone in the woods." He momentarily flashed a sly smile, before turning serious again. "Look, this was the only place that he would agree to meet us. It's not as if he gave me choices."
"Sometimes I think that you must have your phone number on a bathroom stall with" Scully moved her hands in front of her and brought them further apart as if she was visualizing it written on the wall "'Interested in a good time? Call this number promising secret government information and watch me do whatever you want' " Scully put her hands down and with a small half smile turned to Mulder.
"How did you find out about that?" He said in mock surprise, then a smile. "Look, I know that some," Scully glared at him, "ok, most, of these tips turn out to be bogus, but I can't take the chance of missing an opportunity like this. Anyway, you seemed interested when I first told you about it."
"Mulder, you know that I am interested. Well, maybe I should say I *was* interested. But I am really beginning to doubt that this mystery person is even going to show up. We have been sitting here in this car, in the middle of the woods, which is in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night for over 4 hours now." She paused to catch her breath before continuing. "I'm tired, I'm hungry, we have a several hour drive facing us before we get back home, *and* I have to go to the bathroom."
Ignoring the growing irritation in her voice, Mulder spoke, "I thought I told you to go before we left." He tried to sound like a parent reprimanding a child.
"I did go. Six hours ago." She said pointedly.
He held his flashlight up helpfully. "Want to borrow my light?"
"This is just how I envisioned my Friday evening." Scully muttered under her breath as she took his offered flashlight.
"Hey, at least you get to spend some 'quality time' with your partner. Just think of this as a bonding experience. You know, one of those moments that you look back with fond memories."
"Mulder, with all that we have experienced, if we haven't 'bonded' yet, it ain't ever going to happen." She opened the door and started to climb out.
"Hey, be careful with what leaves you use. Don't want to get poison oak in a 'sensitive' area. Believe me." He half yelled to her as she was closing the door.
She turned back, eyebrow raised. "You can tell me all about *that* story when I get back." She turned to shut the door again.
His face changed. "Scully, be careful." He said this quietly, no longer just joking.
"Mulder," She began, her voice soft as well, but her tone indicated that while his concern was duly noted, it was *not* necessary. "I'm going twenty feet; it will take five minutes. I think that I can handle it." She gave him a condescending look. "I'll be right back, and then we are going home." She stressed the last word firmly. She leaned her head in one last time, her voice filled with an unspoken dare. "And Mulder… don't even think about changing the radio." She turned quickly away from him. Hiding her slightly evil grin from him, she began walking away from the vehicle.
* * * * * * * * *
Scully had been gone only a few seconds before Mulder leaned over to change the radio station from the perennial Scully favorite of classical, to something more to his liking. Sure, she had her
'scientific' reasons, improved memory, increased creativity, etc… but Mulder suspected that her reason for her choice was that it was impossible for him to sing along. It was a continuing, unspoken battle that they had. Most of the time Mulder gave in to Scully's choice, it often it just wasn't worth the potential conflict. But times like this when he was bored and *almost* sure she wouldn't bite his head off, he played the game. The game of 'how long will it take for Scully to change the station?' He considered it scientific research.
After flipping through for several moments, he found a hard rock station. He turned the volume up obnoxiously loud and the heavy beat reverberated though the car. He smiled to himself as he thought, <<"Oh yeah, that's going to go over real well with Scully. I give her 10 seconds tops before she's changed it back.">>
He had known for several hours that no one was going to show up. He had just been reluctant to end the evening. He was surprised that Scully let it get this far. Hell, he was surprised that she had agreed to come along in the first place. Perhaps she had just been surprised that he had mentioned the meeting at all, what with his habit of running off without her. And well…after that 'incident' at the gunman's…
There had of course been no discussion on the matter. The matter that he had come to know as the 'Diana fiasco'. Instead, they had relied on their 'silent communication' to patch things up. The same silent communication that he had come to loath as of late. The same silent communication that maintained the status quo. It was all too easy to ignore, or misread many of the communiqués. Why did they have to leave so much up to interpretation? Why couldn't either one of them commit to making a direct statement, take a chance at saying what is really on their minds? God, why must we make it so damn hard? << "Because this is who we are.">> He told himself, answering his own question. << "This is what we do.">>
He had been sending 'I'm sorry' signals from the beginning. From his 'sleeping with the enemy' comment in A.D. Kersh's office to his sophomoric attempts at the 'Falls'. She had either ignored them completely or brushed them off distastefully. Then one day she came into the office and he knew. He knew that something had changed. One look between them had told him that she had forgiven, but not forgotten the whole mess. He still had know idea what had triggered the change, but he did not question it.
And for once, he had been paying attention. He knew just how close he had been to losing her. He knew that the ground he walked on with her was not as steady as it seemed.
Which brought him back to that evening. He had known that the likelihood of something substantial coming from a meeting with the source was not high, but he had used it as an excuse to be with her. Perhaps they could even talk, really talk. Of course, that would require him finding the courage to do so. The past hour, the hour that they spent had in total silence, he'd been franticly racking his mind trying to come up with something that wouldn't sound totally inane. He had so much that he
wanted to say, but it was always the wrong moment, or if it could be the right moment, he squandered it.
He thought again of Scully. Why had she agreed to come out here in the first place? Why had it taken six hours before she said anything about wanting to end the evening? Mulder hoped that he knew the reason, but lacking the confidence, he had not acted on that knowledge. When he had first told her about his plans and invited her along, instead of readily dismissing him and this meeting, she had agreed. And without him having to resort to using any of his tired ploys. He had hoped that maybe this was her way of acknowledging his efforts.
Suddenly, a bright flash of light interrupted his thoughts. His hand was still near the knob when he saw that clock had jumped from 2:17 to 2:26 and the song had changed. "What the…?" He murmured slightly confused. Then the significance sunk in. <<"Nine minutes. Scully!">> Concern and the realization that she was out there crept into his thoughts. "Scully!"
Mulder slammed the car door behind him and began to venture out in the direction he had last seen her retreating figure. "Scully! Scully! Can you answer me? Scully!" Without his flashlight he made very little progress. Every few steps he called her name. As each successive time he called, and as each minute passed, his voice became more tinged with fear and then panic. After a few more moments, he was able to make out a soft light ahead. He headed toward it, still calling out her name. He pushed aside a bush and found the source. It was his flashlight on the ground. Scully was no where to be seen.
Heart sinking with dread, Mulder picked up the light and with one last "Scully!" he pulled out his phone. "This is Special Agent Fox Mulder with the FBI. I have an agent missing. She has been abducted. We need to get a search and rescue team out here immediately!" He spat out his
location and hung up. Willing himself to remain calm, he continued his search. <<"I'll find her. It's going to be ok, She just got a little lost. I'll find her. It's not my fault.">> He kept repeating these
thoughts in his head, trying desperately to believe his own words. Trying to drown out a phase that would soon become his constant companion. "Not again… not again… not again…"
* * * * * * * * *
7:34am
The quiet stillness of forest had long since been shattered. Vehicles with lights flashing were scattered haphazardly, men ran around, radio blared coordinates and updates. The dogs milled about aimlessly, no trail for them to follow.
Mulder leaned against the hood of his car. He was the only thing that remained motionless in the controlled chaos surrounding him. He seemed unaware of his surroundings, lost in his thoughts.
He didn't notice as the man approached him "Mulder, I got your call. I got here as soon as I could." Skinner said with genuine concern.
Mulder didn't move. He seemed oblivious to Skinner's presence.
Skinner tried again, this time taking hold of his shoulder. "Mulder look at me. Tell me what happened."
"They took her again." He said numbly, face impassive.
"What do you mean? Who took her?" He asked this, even though he already knew the answer.
Mulder seemed to snap out of his reprieve. The blank look of a moment ago was replaced with one of rage "The same people that took her before. Aliens! A secret government agency, Cancerman! Mad scientists! Does it matter? She's gone!" He moved from the car, and his arms flailed about in frustration.
Skinner stood his ground, not moving even as Mulder's hand moved within inches of his face. He willed himself not to react to Mulder's outburst and calmly asked "Mulder, what have they found?"
"Nothing. She walked about 20 feet into the woods…then nothing. No sign of a struggle, no sign of anyone or anything else. She just vanished. Except for this." He held up his flashlight. "This is all that was left."
Mulder suddenly walked to the car door.
"Mulder, what are you doing? Where are you going?"
"She isn't here. She hasn't been here for hours. I've wasted enough time. I'm going to the source. The only one that can tell me what really happened." And with that, he slammed the door.
Skinner opened his mouth as if to say something, but saw the futility. He turned his back to Mulder as he sped off.
* * * * * * * * *
Mulder's Apartment
10:21am
He was a man without regrets. A man did not survive to his late age, in his line of *work* , if he permitted regrets to take hold. Did he regret his wife being sacrificed? His daughter taken? His son killed by his own hand? His closest friend killed on his orders? Hardly. All were necessary sacrifices. The only thing that he could feel some regret over was something that had not yet occurred. He was here to kill him. Kill the man he most admired. The man so like himself. Both men so certain of their cause, so fierce in their determination. << "Too bad he could never see the truth…too bad he never let himself.">> But it was too late for that. Things were too close. He could no longer tolerate his behavior, his recklessness. Now was the time for the utmost of care. And he couldn't take the chance that he would destroy it all.
Time to take care of Mulder once and far all.
It had finally come to this. After all of these years, after all the crap he put him through, it came down to this: time for him to die. The man sat on the corner of the couch and smoked his cigarette. And he waited. He could not wait for Mulder to come to him, so he would come to Mulder. So he waited, gun in hand, and reflected on his thoughts.
If he felt anything anymore, if he could feel remorse over one thing, one person, it's possible that it could be for Mulder.
Or perhaps it was just indigestion.
* * * * * * * * *
As Mulder opened the door to his apartment, he already knew the man was there. The room was a haze of smoke. He had been here for awhile, and Mulder was not the least bit surprised. He slowly walked into his living room and took a seat in his chair. The Cigarette Smoking Man sat calmly on the end of the couch, smoking his Morly. He waited for Mulder to speak first.
"Thanks for coming to me this time. It makes it so much easier for me." Mulder said sarcastically.
"The least I could do. No gun to my head this time? You disappoint me Mulder," he said with a half smile on his face.
"Just tell me why. Why was she taken again?"
"And what makes you think I having anything to do with that?" a drag from his cancer stick.
Mulder's voice raised slightly. "Then what the hell are you doing here?"
"Why, I'm here to kill you." He said this evenly, slowly taking another drag on his cigarette.
"Then why am I still alive?"
"That is a very good question. Why are you still alive? After all that you have seen, all the foolish things that you have done. Things that should have killed you ten times over, yet here you are." A pause. "I guess you just have a charmed life."
"Oh yeah, that's me. A 'charmed' life." His voice was filled with bitterness. "Are you going to help me? Are you going to tell me what you know?"
"Oh, but you forget, I'm here to kill you."
"Then I guess it can't hurt to tell me what you know, can it?"
He mused for a moment, then decided to continue. "I think that it is funny. After all of these years. All of these years of us wasting our time with you, thinking you were the you were so important, it had been Scully all along." He shakes his head, smiling ruefully. "*Scully* is the key."
"What do you mean by that?"
He continued, as if he hadn't been interrupted. "That first time she was taken she wasn't going to return. It was simply a ploy to have you believe what we wanted you to. It was also a convenient way of separating you two. But she was such a fine subject. She surprised us. So…how shall I put this? So robust, so hearty. All the things we did to her, yet she survived." He shook his head some what amassed. He murmured almost to himself. "The things we did…" His eyes refocused as he looked back to Mulder. "That was why she was returned, we simply ran out of things to do to her."
Mulder was aware of the game the older man was playing, but was unable to stop his next comment "You bastard, you son of a bitch." Mulder's eyes glared as he struggled to maintain himself, to prevent him from strangling that smug expression off of his face.
"I'm the bastard? I see that you haven't had that little talk with your mother yet." Another smirk from the older man. Mulder willed himself not to react. <<"Control, take control Mulder. You need the information he has. Don't let him do this to you.">> He thought.
"But we aren't talking about you here, are we? We are talking about Agent Scully. We returned her to you. And she surprised us by surviving. So we kept even closer tabs on her. We were somewhat surprised and disappointed when she developed the cancer like the others. We thought that that was the end."
"What about the chip you gave me?"
"It was mostly just another method used to confuse your loyalties. We had tried it before…with the others…They showed some reversal, but they didn't live. But she did, once again. She really is a fine specimen." Another pause. "We now know that she could survive without the chip…at least for as long as we need her to." He extinguished his cigarette and lit another. He waited for Mulder to comment.
"Why? Why would she take the chance?"
"Agent Mulder, you surprise me. Do you really want her to be called to some god-forsaken bridge again?" Mulder sat head down, absorbing the new information. "Continue."
"Where was I? And of course, the icing on top. She survived the virus. Of course you did have something to do with that. But in doing so, you just made her all the more valuable." He paused, took another drag and almost casually added. "Oh, by the way, great timing in the hallway."
Mulder looked up, surprised. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't play stupid with me. We have surveillance in the hallway. You've never even looked. I must say that you surprised me Agent Mulder. I never thought that you would have the guts. I admit I was a bit disappointed when the bee interrupted. I was hoping to see something interesting." His eyebrows raised, he took another drag.
Mulder fought the urge to rip the thing out of this mouth.
"But ah, cruel fate. Would you say that fate is cruel Agent Mulder?"
"I don't believe fate has played much of a role in my life."
The man nodded thoughtfully. "You are probably true. Someone once said that the best way to predict the future was to invent it."
"So what is this future?"
"Wouldn't you like to know." Another slow drag, and then he extinguished the cigarette and stood. He casually pulled his gun into view. "You know, it is a real shame that it has come to this. I'm going to miss you after all of these years. I'm almost sorry."
"So you're just going to kill me like that? Suicide I suppose." Mulder said, stalling for time.
"Of course. Everyone knows your nature. Everyone knows about your 'attachment' to Agent Scully." He smile wickedly. "After all, it is your fault she was taken. You dragged her out there." He said that with an evil smirk. He stood and raised his gun to Mulder's head.
"But you don't know my nature, you just think you do." Mulder stood slowly so as not to startle the man next to him. "You think you know me, but you are wrong."
"You forget that I created you, I made you the man you are today."
"Well, your creation has turned on you." With that comment he raised his previously hidden gun to CSM's head. "After all of these years, after all of the times that I have held my gun to your head, you have never believed…"And at that moment Mulder pulled the trigger, point blank, at CSM's head. The man fell to the ground, dead instantaneously. "…that I would pull the trigger."
Without a second glance Mulder turned and left the body as it was.
* * * * * * * * *
Three Days Later
A.D. Skinner's Office
9:15am
Skinner slammed shut the file that was setting before him in frustration. No information. No leads, no clues as to Agent Scully's whereabouts. Unfortunately he was not the least bit surprised. He knew these men. Knew their methods. He was all too aware of the methods they used to obscure the truth.
He took his wire frames off his face and with one hand began to rub the bridge of his nose in a futile attempt to stave off his headache. Putting his glasses back on, he looked at his watch. 9:15. Mulder was late. He was not surprised. Skinner was not looking forward to this particular meeting.
He had not seen or heard from Mulder since he left the scene in haste. Hell, he didn't even know if Mulder had even gotten his message about this meeting in the first place.
He didn't know what to expect when he saw him this morning. His mind flashed back to four years ago. Back to Duane Barry. The Mulder of that time had been a frightening mix of desperation and rage. He had been unstoppable, undeterred in his goal. And after they had found Duane Barry, but no sign of Scully…Mulder had still been desperate, but his rage had faded into a consuming guilt. A guilt, Skinner suspected, lingers still.
Skinner could still remember that conversation, the conversation that had summed up Mulder's guilt so well.
"'Agent Scully was a fine officer. More than that, I liked her. I respected her. We all know the field we play on and we all know what can happen in the course of a game. If you were unprepared for all the potentials, then you shouldn't step on the field.'"
"'What if I... I knew the potential consequences but I... I never told her?'"
"'Then you're as much to blame for her condition as... 'The Cancer Man.'"
He had hated having to say those words, but he was an honest man and Mulder had needed to hear them.
Skinner's thoughts were interrupted when his secretary softly knocked on his door. "Sir, Agent Mulder has arrived."
"Send him in."
Skinner had not been sure as to what to expect from Mulder this morning, but what he saw was still a surprise. The man before him was composed, controlled, calm even. Impeccably dressed, looking like the model agent, the only thing that hinted at his hidden anguish was his slightly red-rimed eyes. Skinner chose to ignore that hint.
Skinner motioned to the chair before him. Mulder sat down and spoke. "Sorry to keep you waiting sir. I was held up." He offered no other explanation.
"Well, you are here now. I suspect you know why I have called you here today. This concerns the case on Agent Scully's disappearance." Skinner paused. He tried to come up with a diplomatic way to say his next comment. "Agent Mulder, I think that it would be best if-"
Mulder interrupted him before he could finish. "I agree sir. This investigation would go much…" he paused to find the right word "…smoother if I was not involved." He spoke calmly. If it had been another time, another situation he could have smiled at the A.D.'s expression. Before he could speak again, Mulder continued. "I also think that now would be a good time to use up some of my vacation time."
Skinner and he stared for several moments. Skinner broke the silence. "I understand. I am glad that we see eye to eye on this situation. I will personally head this investigation while you-" A pause. "While you take time to do what ever you need to do. We will keep each other appraised of our progress."
Mulder stood. "Of course. Thank you sir." He turned to leave. His hand was on the doorknob before Skinner stopped him. "We will find her Agent Mulder."
Mulder didn't turn around. His voice braking ever so slightly he replied. "I want to believe that, sir."
* * * * * * * * *
One week later
The Lone Gunmen headquarters
7:03pm
Mulder furiously paced the floor, what little floor there was in the cramped quarters. The gunmen were wise enough to stay out of his way. He had arrived thirty minutes prior, and at each bit of information, or in this case, lack of information the gunman provided, he became more frenetic. "Nothing? You guys haven't found anything? What about the train cars? I thought that you guys said that you had figured out a way to monitor them."
Byers spoke, "We have Mulder, and there has been no activity at all. Nothing. All of the known cars are stored in an abandoned rail yard. There hasn't been any activity since they found Cassandra."
"And hospitals? Has anyone shown up matching her description?"
Byers spoke again, trying to keep his voice smooth and calming. "No Mulder, she has not shown up at any hospitals." And before Mulder could ask his next question, Byers answered it. "And no, no one matching her description has shown up at any morgues."
"Well were is she? Nothing just disappears without a trace. Where the hell is she?" Mulder had finally stopped pacing and sat heavily on the couch, burying his face in his hands.
The gunmen looked at each other, uncertain as to their next move. After several silent moments, Frohike got off his chair and sat next to Mulder. Somewhat awkwardly he placed his hand on Mulder's shoulder. "Look Mulder, we all care for Agent Scully. She is out there, and we're not going to stop until we find her. And we will find her." But even as he spoke, the uncertainty in his voice was clear.
Mulder looked up and was almost able to force a smile on his face. "Look guys, I appreciate all the help that you've given me, really. Keep looking. We will find something eventually." He stood up. "I have to go now. You guys know how to reach me." With that he pulled on his coat and was out the door.
The gunmen looked at each other for a few seconds, and without saying a word, went back to their perspective projects.
* * * * * * * * *
Scully's Apartment
12:57am
Mulder sat on the couch, her couch, lost in thought. He had been staying at her place since the first night she was gone. As hard as it was being surrounded by her things, without her, he knew that he couldn't stay at his own place; he needed some connection to her. He had only returned
once to his apartment for his things. When he had arrived he was not surprised to discover that CSM's body, and any trace of his existence, even the cigarette butts, had all been taken care of. He had smiled and had thought that at least this was one thing that his neighbors wouldn't have to deal with. There would be no police investigation in this death.
He had surprised himself. He never thought him capable of such a cold-blooded murder. Yes, he had killed before, hell; it was practically a job requirement. He was a 'good' guy. 'Good' guys killed the 'bad' guys. And CSM was a hell of a 'bad' guy. Right? He placed his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes. God, he didn't know what to believe anymore.
He had killed before, but only in defense of his life or someone else's. CSM would have killed him, he had no doubt of that, but it hadn't been self-defense. He had known with absolute certainty the moment that he had walked into the apartment that the man would not be walking out.
Strange, he felt no regret. For a moment cold panic swept though his body. <<"Will Scully understand? Could she hate him for this? Was he becoming the man he had killed?">> A moment later the panic was gone. <<"No, she'll understand. Once I explain everything to her, she'll forgive me. And I will explain it all to her. No more secrets.">> He had already had this conversation with himself before.
Out loud he said it again. "No more secrets."
His cool detached façade had quickly faded since his visit with Skinner. He had tried to be his calm, collected, professional best; he had pulled from him the side that referred to as "Scully's piece of me." The calm, rational side that had slowly infiltrated his being over the past six years. He couldn't permit himself to let his emotions overwhelm him. He needed her strength, he needed her…
But she wasn't here. It was just him, and his calm mask was rapidly deteriorating. This past week had been difficult. He had left Skinner's office with several leads, and he was ready to begin his own private investigation. He had also left that meeting with hope. Hope that she could be found. But all to quickly those leads became dead ends and his hopes began to seem like nothing more than wishful thinking. << "It isn't just wishful thinking. Scully will come back. She has to.">>
He was trying desperately to keep his mind busy, occupied. Every time he didn't, he would begin his mantra, "Not again, not again, not again." He was doing it again. He got up from the couch. <<"Got to keep busy. No time to think. Just act." >>He was pacing again. <<"Who can help me? Skinner, no too busy with the 'official' investigation…The gunmen, already on it…god, is that it?">> Didn't he have any sources that he could get a hold of? No he didn't. <<"I guess I got too many of them killed off." >>His smile was pained. No one else. Just him. And what was he doing? He was wasting time, sitting on his ass. He should be doing something. He should be rescuing Scully. Saving her from what ever they are doing to her. He shuddered, as the thought back on the smoking man's words. "'… such a fine subject…So robust, so hearty. All the things we did to her…'" << Don't go there, Mulder. Don't think about that. Think about getting her back.">>
He grabbed his jacket and was nearly out the door before he realized that there was nothing that he could do. It was just a matter of waiting. And just waiting was what he did worst. He sighed. He hung up his jacket and sat down again. << "Can't be a slob. Scully won't like it if she comes back and I've destroyed her place. When Scully comes back. When.">> He repeated it once more. <<"When she comes back.">>
He rose again and walked to her desk to look at the photographs that were neatly arranged there. Pictures of her family. One of her mother and father, her father in his Navy best. An older family portrait, Scully looked about 12 or 13. <<"Scully with braces.">> He smiled at that thought. And the last picture. It was a candid one of Scully and her sister Melissa. Both seemed to be laughing as the picture was taken. Scully laughing…now there was a sight to behold. Mulder smiled again. He realized then that he didn't own a single picture of her. . All he had was his memory. His finger gently traced her laughing profile. When was the last time she had laughed like that? When was the last time he had seen it? It had been far too long. She has had such sadness and heartache for so long…<< "And it is all my fault...">>
Trying to forget that thought, trying to avoid the inevitable, he moved to another. When had this been taken? He couldn't seem to place it. He opened the frame and pulled the picture out. As he expected there was a date on the back. Typical Scully. In her neat handwriting he read 'Thanksgiving 1994.' Right after last time…
His mind flooding with the unwelcome memories of last time. Unable to avoid it any longer, he surrendered to the guilt and grief and let it sweep him away. The words rose unbidden from his lips as he sank to the couch. "Not again…not again… not again…." He fell into a fitful sleep a few hours later, with those two words still on his lips and the picture clutched between his fingertips.
* * * * * * * * *
Four Days Later
8:57 am
The shrill ring of the cell phone broke Mulder free from his latest series of nightmares. He sat up, head spinning and blindly reached for his phone. Half of him hoped that he would hear the familiar, "Mulder, it's me." the other half knew just how unlikely that would be.
"Mulder."
"We found something." It was Langly.
"Did you find her? What did you discover?"
"No, but we found someone that may know where she is. I can't say anything else now. Just come over."
Mulder was already out the door before Langly had finished the last sentence.
* * * * * * * * *
The Lone Gunmen Head Quarters
9:28am
"What? She's still alive?" Mulder face was blank, but the shock was clearly apparent in his eyes. This was the last thing that he expected to hear when he came over. This was the last name he expected.
"Yes, Diana Fowley is alive and well as far as we can tell. After…" Byers paused to clear his throat. "After we found out the information on her before, and after you…um…. well after Scully told you about the information…." Byers was looking even more uncomfortable, if possible.
Mulder spoke, "After I said that I didn't believe her…"he sighed with regret.
"Um, yeah. After that, Scully asked us to continue to keep tabs on her. We also thought that she had been killed with the others; there had been no activity, no activity until last week."
"Why didn't you say something earlier if you had this information?" Mulder asked this slowly, and with surprising restraint.
"Well, we knew that someone was using her accounts, but we couldn't be sure it was her. That is, until this morning." Langly handed him a grainy photo, and continued from where Byers had left off. "We were able to pull this picture off a security camera in the lobby of the Cabal Hotel, in New York City. She arrived today. We have no way of knowing how long she'll stay. This may be your only chance."
Mulder didn't hesitate a moment longer. He flashed a momentary glance of appreciation to them, and was gone.
* * * * * * * * *
Cabal Hotel, room 2133
1:35am
Mulder sat. Shrouded in darkness he sat and waited. Fowley didn't see him at first. He let her go about her business for a few moments before he spoke. "Thanks for the note."
Fowley jumped and turned to face the corner he was in. "Fox? Is that you Fox? God, you scared me. What are you doing here? What note?" She asked, confused.
"Oh, that little note that said 'Hey Mulder, just a little note to let you know that I'm alive. You didn't send me to my death.'" He rose to his feet, and for the first time Fowley could see his face. She
immediately wished that he would go back to his corner.
"Fox, I couldn't tell you. I'm sorry for that. But I had my reasons."
With sarcasm heavy on his voice, he spoke again. "Ah, yes, your 'reasons'. It seems that everyone has their reasons these days."
"Fox, tell me why you are here."
"Why don't you tell me?"
Fowley looked genuinely confused. "Fox, I really have no idea what you are talking about."
Mulder quickly closed the distance between them and grabbed her by the arms with a vice like grip. "I'm am so sick of this! I'm tired of the lies! Tell me where she is!"
Fowley's terror was clear as she faced this person who was now a complete stranger. She struggled to take in what he said. "Fox, stop, you are hurting me. What are you talking about? Just tell me!" She looked into his empty eyes and then his last comment sank it. "Scully? They took her again?"
Mulder let go abruptly, and walked away. "Don't pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about. I know all about you, and the things that you have done. I know that you know what they've done to her."
She knew that there was no point in lying further. "I don't know what you have found out, but it is clear that you think that I am a lot higher in the hierarchy than I really am. This is the first I heard of
it." She paused and tried to meet his eye. He refused to look at her. "Although I had my suspicions." She continued. "I was contacted several days ago and told to resume my studies on the members of the MUFON organization. It seems that the time table has been drastically moved
up."
"For colonization?"
"Yes, it seems that the rebels have increased their activities. And after Cassandra…" She let that sentence hang, unfinished. "We don't have much time. We can't hold off any more, and if we don't keep our end of the deal…"
"So what were you doing with the MUFON members?"
"I was recording their information. Their health status, the few that are left. We lost a lot in the fires… And the others that didn't have the implant... We were never able to prevent the cancer. Anyway, the few that have survived this far, will not be of use."
"Use for what?" The horror of her comments were slowly sinking in. "What are they doing to Scully!?" He demanded, needing her to say it. She refused. "Fox, we need her. She is the only way, the only chance we have. The only way that any of us can survive. She will save us both."
"At what cost? Her humanity?"
Fowley walked to Mulder and placed her hand to his arm. He violently shrugged her off. "Don't." He said slowly, a mere whisper. "Don't ever touch me again."
"This is the only way. It has already been started. You can't do anything to change it. And neither can I."
"I think you can, but you won't. You are afraid." Mulder walked to the door and opened it. "This is not the only way, I'll make sure of that." And with that he was gone.
* * * * * * * * *
Fowley collapsed on the bed before the walls had stopped shaking from the force of the shutting door. She was suddenly exhausted, the unexpected confrontation with Mulder had shattered her defenses.
After all of these years…nothing had changed. When she had originally been assigned to him all those years ago, she had not looked forward to it. Keep him away from anything of importance, getting him involved with cases that would only fuel his paranoia but nothing else; earn his trust. She was sent to distract him, by whatever means available to her as a woman. It had seemed merely like a baby-sitting job to her. That was of course before she fell in love with him.
She sighed. Yes, she was sent to distract him, but in the end it was he who distracted her. She began to let things slide, let him see things that he shouldn't have…she had gotten reckless. To fall for a man like Mulder…it had not been wise. Especially since she knew he had not felt the same. She risked her life as well a Mulder's with her foolishness. And he hadn't even loved her back. Yes, he may have said it in the throws of physical passion, or perhaps simple obligation, but she had known. She had seen the truth. He didn't love her, he couldn't. Even with her saying all the right things, believing him and his theories, they hadn't been enough. Or, she amended, they hadn't been what he needed. She could not be the person he needed. She couldn't make the pain from his recently recalled memories disappear. She couldn't save him. And so his heart would never be hers. So she had made her plans to leave, and he hadn't stopped her. She had hoped to never see him again. << "It would have been so much easier if I had never seen him again…">>
Tears suddenly came to her long hardened heart. She cried for Scully, for Mulder, for herself, and for all that would never be.
* * * * * * * * *
Unknown Location
Present Day
9:12pm
"Agent Scully, wake up. Dana, you need to wake up, we don't have much time."
Scully opened her eyes with a start. She felt the sharp needle of a syringe withdraw from her forearm. "Wha…What is going on here?" She looked around in confusion. "Where am I? What are we doing here?"
"Look, I don't have time to discuss this. Both of our lives are in danger. We have to get you out of here."
Scully laughed bitterly. "Why should I believe you? You've given me no reason to trust your motives."
Agent Fowley momentary paused in her efforts of unfastening the remaining straps and looked Scully straight in the eye, her voice abrupt. "Believe me or don't. My motives aren't important. The fact remains that I'm your only chance you have of getting out of here alive."
Scully, although still hesitant, discontinued her questions for the moment.
Fowley undid the last of the straps and helped Scully into a sitting position. Scully immediately felt the blood leave her head and black spots began to flicker before her eyes. For a moment she was certain that she would faint. She firmly clutched the bed with both hands in an effort maintain her equilibrium.
Fowley noticed and spoke again, this time with a softer voice. "Try to take it easy. You haven't been up for quite sometime."
Scully reopened her eyes, already feeling her lightheadedness dissipating. "How long?"
Fowley hesitated, "Four weeks." She tossed her a pair of scrubs. "Here, put these on."
Scully tried to digest all the information that was coming so quickly as she pulled on the clothing offered to her. Where was she? How did she get here? What was the last thing that she remembered? << "I had just left Mulder in the car. I walked until the car was just out of sight…I had just put the flashlight down when…">> Her memory came to an abrupt end. << "…and then I was here.">> A dawning realization swept over her. <<"I've been taken, again." >>That fact had barely made it through her thought processes, before the next one followed. <<"Oh my God! Mulder!">>
"Mulder! Is he ok?" The alarm was evident in her voice.
"Mulder is…well, Mulder." She paused as she tried to come up with the right words. "They didn't take him, if that is what you are asking." She paused again. " But he isn't ok. I don't think he thinks that you are coming back to him." Scully slowly nodded, understanding.
Scully opened her mouth to ask another question. Fowley interrupted. "Quiet, we only have a few more minutes before the alarm resets. Follow me." She led the way out the door. Once outside they were surrounded by the near darkness. The only source of light was the half open door that they had just left behind, and that was fading swiftly as they made their way though the long dark halls. As they rounded a corner and the last of the faint light disappeared, Scully tripped over a fallen form. Only Fowley's quick reflexes and strong arm saved her from stumbling to the floor. As it was, Scully could not stifle a startled cry. A cry that seemed to reverberate throughout the hollow confines of the building.
"Quiet!" Fowley softly hissed. They paused momentarily and Scully's eyes slowly adjusted to the light. She was just able to make out the form lying prone before her. It was a man, very much dead. And from the dark shadow that surrounded him that could only be blood, Scully guessed that the cause of death was a gunshot wound. << "He must have been a guard." >> She thought. << "And Fowley must have been the one to killed him." >> Scully was not sure how she felt about this latest revelation. While it confirmed her belief that Fowley had a more sinister, ruthless side, it also led credence to her story that she was rescuing her. If she killed one of them… Scully was interrupted from her thoughts as Fowley jerked urgently on her hand .
It seemed that Scully's small out burst had gone unnoticed. They moved slower this time, taking into account the poor light and dismal condition of the building. It was very quiet. The air was heavy with tension. The building seemed disserted, aside from the guard, but Scully was still extremely wary. She looked around her but she was unable to make anything out. Still uneasy, Scully followed Fowley as they exited the building and approached a half-hidden car. Fowley walked to the
trunk and opened it, indicating to her that she enter. Scully noticeably hesitated.
"I know that this isn't the best accommodations, but we can't afford to take any chances. It should only be for 10 minutes or so." Scully got the impression that Fowley was enjoying her discomfort. Scully steeled herself, managing somehow to quell her fear, and stepped into the trunk. <<"This is not like last time. Only for a few minutes, I can handle that. Just breathe Dana, breathe.">> Once inside, Fowley slammed the lid shut. Scully stifled the scream welling up inside her. <<"Only for a few minutes. Breathe, breathe.">>
A moment later the car began to move.
* * * * * * * * *
Diana Fowley's Car
10:40pm
It had really been rather anti-climatic, their escape. There had been no signs or hints that they had been seen. The unnamed road that they traveled was devoid of cars, for that matter, life.
Scully had not said a word since she had been released from the trunk. Fowley, thankfully, had left her to her thoughts. So much to get organize in her head. Ok, obviously she had been taken again, for what reason, it was not yet clear. God, had she really said four weeks? Another month simply gone from her life. Scully fought back a tear. << "NOT, in front of her." >>And Mulder…and …oh god! Her mother! Her poor mother. <<"I'm so sorry to put you through all of this again." >>A tear slipped then, and she turned to face the blackness outside. The blackness that threatened to overwhelm her.
Ok, it is probably safe to say that that experiments were performed. Scully recoiled from that thought. <<"Not again. Not more chips, not more cancer…I need a distraction, no point in working myself up until I can know for sure. ">> Turning her emotions aside for the moment, Scully instead began to focus on her physical condition. Nothing broken, full range of motion to all extremities, no pain, numbness or tingling. She ran her hands slowly over her exposed skin and head. No lesions, new scars, or bruising. She found nothing wrong. Except for her momentary light-headedness, she felt no different. In fact, she felt better. <<"A marked difference over last time.">>
Now the only thing Scully didn't know was why she was sharing this car with this women, and what her plans were. Scully placed her calm, 'professional' face on, and prepared to find the answers.
* * * * * * * * *
"What is going on? Why have you done this for me?" She said this simply, calmly, revealing nothing of her inner turmoil.
"You weren't ever supposed to be taken again. I'm simply correcting a mistake that has been made." Fowley's voice revealed nothing as well.
"I don't believe that. I think that you have another motive." Scully's voice began to change; she spoke in an accusatory tone.
"Look, it is obvious that you don't like nor trust me. I'm not asking you to. I'm not expecting you to. Maybe you shouldn't." A pause. "Fox told me what you discovered about me."
"And?" Scully asked.
Fowley sighed. "It's true. Look, no matter what you may think you know you don't know the whole truth. You can judge me, blame me, but I believe that what was done was absolutely necessary for our survival."
"Necessary for whose survival? The women that were taken? The women whose lives were destroyed by the things so casually done to them?" Scully's voice began to rise as she thought back to all the women, all the lives irrevocably damaged; she no longer cared about being calm,
professional.
Fowley's lips flattened to a hard line. "I didn't rescue you to discuss this. I will not defend my actions." Scully, seeing that topic was firmly closed, moved to the next. "You didn't answer my question. Why you are doing this for me?"
Fowley laughed under her breath. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for Fox. I'm doing this for everyone. Plans have changed. You were never meant to be taken again. But you are needed now, but not in the manor that they believe. The others don't realize that yet, that is why we are in danger."
A long pause as Scully reflected on her comments. One thing stuck out. "I still don't understand. You said that you were doing this for Mulder…"
"If the plans that they have for you were to continue…that would be it. The end for us, the end for us all. I think Mulder has a plan, but he needs you, in more ways than one." A sideways glance. Her voice softened; took on an almost wistful tone. "It is almost unfortunate that you have never seen him like this, truly at his most desperate. If you have ever had any doubts as to his feelings for you, you wouldn't after." Scully sat shocked. That was the last thing she had ever expected to hear come out of that mouth. Her previous comment forgotten, she instead asked another. Her voice had grown soft as well. "Why are you really doing this Diana?"
Fowley smiled to herself, then looked to Scully. "Agent Scully, why do you do what you do for him? Why have you stayed with him all of this time? Why do you continually risk your life for him? For this same reason I'm helping you now." A long pause. Fowley looked back to the road. "Fox is certainly not an easy man to love," Another sideways glance. "Is he?"
Scully looked down to her hands folded in her lap and sighed. She looked back up to Fowley's eyes and softly said, "No, he isn't." Fowley held her gaze for a moment. Then she slowly nodded.
The two women did not speak again until Fowley dropped Scully off just outside of D.C. She handed a set of car keys to Scully and indicated the car before her. "He is at your place. Go to him, and get out of there. Remember that both of your lives are in grave danger."
Scully began to say thanks but Fowley cut her off. "Don't thank me. I've probably placed you in even greater danger. And now you have the pressure of saving the world." She said the last part with a slight smile. Fowley began to pull away. She stopped, looked back and said, "Take good care of him."
"I always do."
* * * * * * * * *
Scully's Apartment
11:29pm
The room is dark. Curled in the corner of the couch Mulder sits clutching the photograph of Scully and her sister. His eyes shut, face contorted into a grimace of pain. Slowly rocking back in forth he
murmurs "Not again… not again… not again…" He had been having nightmares since that first night. The fact that he was having one now was not surprising, the fact that he had managed to sleep was.
Scully slowly entered the apartment through her unlocked door. She took in the sight before her and her heart nearly broke. When he began to call her name, it did.
She walked over and knelt before him. She pulled Mulder to her and began to speak in a soothing manor. "Mulder, Mulder, wake up. I'm here with you, I'm ok. It's ok, everything will be ok…" She continued administering to him, speaking softly, gently wiping the tears from his face. Mulder thought at first it was merely a continuation of his dream but slowly, however, as he became more alert, he realized the truth.
Scully was back, alive, and he was in her arms. He sat up quickly, nearly dumping Scully. He grabbed her and they both rose to their feet. Mulder pulled her into his arms and nearly crushed her with the force of his hug and the relief behind it. Scully held on just as tight. "How? How can this be?" Fresh tears began to form. "You feel so good in my arms. You came back to me."
"I'll always come back to you Mulder. You know that." Scully's own tears began.
Mulder pulled her away from him so he could look at her face. "I'm so sorry, it's my fault, it's all been my fault." One hand cupped her cheek, wiping the tears as they fell. The other was by her side, clinging to her hand.
"Stop Mulder, I will not let you do this to yourself. We don't have time for this." She did her best to sound strong, but her voice betrayed her. "The people that did this are the ones at fault. I could never blame you. If you never believe anything else, believe that."
"I try, Scully. I try. I thought that I had lost you again."
The comment hung in the air as they stood there, in the center of Scully's living room. Her face buried in his chest. His head resting lightly on hers as he softly kissed her hair. Scully broke the silence. "I can't do this anymore. I simply can't." She said this with a quiet resolution, tears slowly falling. They had pushed her too far, taken too much away. Mulder knew then that he would never be able to change her mind, convince her to continue.
"You don't have to. I'm not asking for that. We are both are ending this." He said this without hesitation, with a firmness that surprised them both.
Scully pulled away to look up into his face "Are you sure? You have worked so hard, come so close…."
"The whole time that you were gone one question kept running through my head. 'Has it been worth it?' Every time I asked, I got the same answer. It hasn't. My quest…" Mulder paused, and corrected himself. "Our quest, is not worth all of this."
"Mulder, I'm not asking for you to quit. You don't have to do this for me."
Mulder placed his hand to her cheeks and raised her face to meet his. He spoke again. "You don't understand." He momentary looked to the floor and softly chuckled. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for me. I could never survive if they took you again." He look into her eyes, their faces just inches apart.
Scully met his gaze. Looking into his eyes, she saw herself reflected back.
Several moments pasted before Mulder spoke again. It was a simple phrase, but it carried six years worth of meaning. "You know." It was not a question. Scully smiled, "Mulder, I know."
Mulder smiled back. "We have both known for along time."
The moment was stretched taut before their faces began their almost imperceivable move toward each other. When their lips finally met, it was a simple, almost chaste kiss. A tender kiss that spoke of a shared past and a united future. It was a kiss that signified everything. Everything that they were, everything that they would become.
With regret Scully pulled away slightly as it ended. "Mulder, we have to go. We are not safe here." Mulder nodded and reluctantly disengaged from Scully. "You're right."
* * * * * * * * *
Scully saw what happened next as if she were merely an observer looking in. She and Mulder had just separated to gather their things when the door burst in. An eerily familiar man stood in the doorway. Without a word he raised his gun and pointed it at Mulder.
Mulder had had his back to the door and it took him a half-second to turn around. A half-second that he didn't have. Scully saw the situation before he did, and without hesitation she pushed him to the floor just as the shot fired.
Scully looked down to Mulder lying unhurt on the floor, and was relieved. But her momentary relief was brief as Mulder looked at her with horror. It was then that she discovered that she had been the one to get shot. She realized then that while she had felt the bullet hit her, she felt no other sensation. <<"Something is terribly wrong here. This is not like last time.">> She slowly dropped her eyes, reluctantly moving them down. She had to know; yet feared that knowledge. As her eyes finally met the wound, she saw that instead of seeing the expected red of blood, she saw a noxious green fluid.
Scully's look of terror matched Mulder's as she looked to him, the intruder forgotten. "My god Mulder, what does this mean?" But she knew, as did Mulder.
Mulder began to rise to his feet, but before he could, the toxic fumes began to have their affect. He stumbled to his knees as he brought his arms to his face. The doctor in Scully began to approach him. She realized her mistake as his symptoms began to worsen. <<"It is me. I am doing this to him. I'm killing him!">> She ran to the opposite side of the room. "Mulder! Mulder, can you answer me?" Panic colored her voice.
Mulder met her eyes once more, then he was lost to unconscious.
The intruder had not moved since the single shot had been fired. He looked to Mulder, saw that he was no longer a threat, and calmly put his gun away.
Scully turned her attention to the intruder. Her wound now healed, she asked, "Who are you? What do you want from us?" Anger and fear equally represented in her voice.
He ignored her comment. He reached his hand into his pocket and slowly pulled out his weapon. He hit the switch, and with a "phitt" the stiletto extended.
Suddenly Scully was back in the moment, back in her body as the cold fear flooded her. Then he began to advance…
* * * * * * * * *
End Note:
This story came about after I saw the final scene in Two Fathers. It was far too easy for me to see Scully in Cassandra's place. This story began with the final scene. I knew exactly how I wanted it to end, but I had no idea how I would end up there. Writing this story was a great adventure for me. I know exactly what it means when they say that the characters begin to take on lifes of their own. I was just as surprised at the turn of advents as (hopefully) you were. God, Mulder knew before I did that he was going to kill CSM and I was just as surprised as Scully when it was Fowley who came to rescue her. I didn't realize that writing could be so fun, maybe it's just the subject matter:)
Yes, I do plan on finishing this, but I must warn you, I can be very slow. Plus, I have to figure out how they are going to get out of this mess:) But I promise that I will finish this story. Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed it. Until next time.
BTW: Could you tell this was my first time?
* * * * * * * * *
there is no chance,
no destiny,
no fate that can circumvent,
or hinder,
or control,
the firm resolve of a determined soul.
end