There were no clues, no identifying marks, no nothing.
Her original identity had been completely stripped away, and
they didn't know anything about her except that she was female,
Caucasian, and approximately the same age as Beth. Other
than that, she was a Jane Doe, and unless someone came
forward, was destined to remain that way.
Dana picked up the now-cool cup of coffee on her desk
and took a swallow, but almost immediately regretted it. Her
stomach had been sensitive for a couple of hours now, and she
thought she'd probably picked up a case of flu that had been
sweeping the departments at Quantico. She closed her eyes
for a few minutes and rubbed her temples, trying to get her
equilibrium back on track, but it wasn't helping. After a few
seconds, she gave up trying to fight it and made a run for the
ladies' room.
It was not starting out as a good Monday.
Beth eyed the doctor sitting across from her. She'd been
expecting him ever since her oncologist told her she was
expanding the scope of her treatment to encompass her mental,
as well as physical, health. Nothing like a forward-thinking,
holistic doctor. Aloud, she said, "So, you're the shrink, eh?"
The doctor nodded.
"It's gotten that bad?
"How bad?"
"Well, Doctor Miller suggested that you come and see me,
right? That must mean that she thinks I'm dying, doesn't she?
And she wants me to make some peace." Beth shook her
head. "She should know me better than that by now—if I'm
going out, they're gonna have to take me kicking and
screaming."
"Why do you think Dr. Miller thinks that you're dying?"
"Well, the alternative is that she thinks that I'm nuts," she
said, wryly. "Maybe I'd prefer to think she thinks I'm dying."
Beth smiled.
"You don't sound at all daunted by the prospect of dying."
"Should I be?"
"It's been my experience that most people are."
"I guess I'm not most people, then," Beth retorted. "I've
been through all this before, Doc. They thought I was going to
die the first time I was diagnosed with cancer, too, and I didn't.
Maybe I'll never die."
"Dr. Miller also told me that you've just been through an
extraordinary experience."
"I guess you could say that, if being kidnapped and
meeting your double face to face could be considered an
extraordinary experience." At his questioning look, she
continued. "It's a long story."
"Well, it's fortunate that I've cleared a lot of time for you
then, isn't it?" He returned her indulgent smile.
She shook her head. "Don't you ever get tired of listening
to the ravings of crazy people?"
"It's my job. Besides, I thought you told me you weren't
crazy."
"I'll leave that for you to tell me, doc. When you hear this
story, you may not be so sure. Sometimes I'm not so sure."
Alex walked into the office of the X-Files, files in his hand.
Mulder looked up from typing his report as his partner entered.
"That does not look like the face of a happy camper."
"I think it's going to become contagious," Alex said, laying
one of the folders down in front of him. "Read this."
"What is it?" Mulder asked, putting his glasses on and
opening the file.
"Just read it." Alex poured himself a cup of coffee and
waited for the explosion.
"This cannot be true." Mulder's voice was so calm and
soft that Alex nearly didn't hear him. "It isn't possible."
"It's true all right. The police and fire department reports
are attached, in the back, along with one or two of the better
newspaper clippings." Alex sat down. "Both the warehouse
where Juda's body was found, and the farm where Beth was
held, were destroyed by 'mysterious' fires last night. Added with
Dr. Hanson's, that make three unexplained cases of arson in
the last month, all of them in places with ties to your sister."
Mulder looked through the rest of the file, then lay it down
on his desk. "Fire."
"What?"
"Fire. Where have we seen fire before?"
Alex thought for a moment, and then shook his head. "No.
He's dead. They're all dead."
"Do we know that for sure?"
"Can we ever know anything about any of this for sure?
Mulder, it's crazy. Cancerman is not still alive. He shot
himself."
"And his body was burned in a fire afterwards, along with
large amounts of evidence. Startlingly similar to these cases,"
he said, indicating the case folder, "don't you think?"
"They identified him," Alex protested. "The dental
records?"
"And records have never been faked?" Mulder leaned
back and polished his glasses, the light of his computer shining
off the lenses. "Who else could it be?"
"From what we know for sure, it could be almost anyone."
"Including Cancerman."
Alex said nothing.
By the time Beth finished her narrative, the room had grown
quite a bit darker. Dinnertime had come and gone unnoticed.
Beth was talking almost as if to herself.
"It was easier for me the first time. They always say that
the first time is harder, because you don't know what's going to
happen—fear of the unknown and all of that. It's not true though
- the second time is much harder, because you know exactly
what's happening to you, even before it happens. Everything
that could possibly go wrong is magnified in your mind a
hundred times.
"The last time, they all treated me like a child, which I was.
The doctors never told me anything, never explained anything
to me, and I didn't have anything to fear because I never knew
what any particular day was going to hold in store for me.
Everybody that I knew in the hospital was sick, too, so we were
all in the same boat and there was no room for pity or anything
like that."
"And now?'
She'd almost forgotten that the doctor was there with her,
and started a little. "Now, there's more to think about than
myself. I have a family—a brother and a mother that I never
knew about. I have a chance to have something that I never
thought was possible, and I don't want to lose it."
"It must have been very difficult for you, to be confronted
with an ‘instant family' after so long."
"Uh-huh."
He smiled at her. "And how do you feel about that?"
"I was wondering when you were going to ask me that
question."
"I've been biting my tongue for over an hour."
Beth laughed. "You know, for a headshrinker, you're not
bad." He bowed his head. "How do I feel about it?" she
repeated. "I have no idea. Happy, excited, scared, angry. The
usual gamut of feelings, I guess."
"You're close to your brother?"
"I want to be. I'm trying to be." She shook her head. "It's
hard for both of us."
"I just want to know how it is for you."
She took a few minutes before she answered. "He wants
me to be his sister so badly, and I am, but—" She shook her
head again, frustrated. "I don't know how to explain it.
Sometimes I feel like he wants me to be eight years old."
"What do you mean by that?"
"It's like he resents me for growing up on him. Like he
wanted Samantha back just the way she was when she
disappeared."
"You talk about yourself like a separate person."
"I'm Beth. People just keep trying to convince me that
I'm Samantha Mulder." She half-smiled at him. "I told you
you'd think I'm nuts."
"I understand what you mean."
"Great. Maybe you could explain it to me, then. And Fox."
"Have you tried to talk to him about any of this?"
"We don't talk very well, either of us."
"You didn't seem to have very much problem talking to me
today."
"Yeah, well—I don't know you from Adam. I can't
disappoint you. And, well—no offense, but I don't really care
what you think. I don't want him to leave me alone again."
"And you think he will if you tell him the truth?"
"I don't even know what the truth is!" She took a deep
breath, calming herself down. "No. I don't think he'd leave me.
I just don't want to give him a reason to, I guess. I don't know
what I want."
"I think you know one thing."
She smiled. "Right, I forgot. There's one thing in the
whole entire world that I know for sure—I don't want to die."
Walter Skinner didn't even look up from his desk as the door to
his office opened. "I thought I told Kimberly I wasn't seeing
anyone today."
"She made an exception for me." Dana sat down in the
chair opposite her husband's desk.
"Hey." He stood and came around the desk, giving her a
kiss before perching on the edge of the desk in front of her. "I
thought I was picking you up tonight."
"It is tonight," she said. "I figured you hadn't noticed that
it's six o'clock."
He grimaced, looking at the clock. "I'm sorry. I've been
trying to deal with this paperwork all day. I guess I lost track of
time."
"It's okay." She smiled tiredly. "I don't suppose I can talk
you into carrying me home?"
He laid a hand on her forehead. "You feeling okay? You
look terrible."
She wrinkled her nose at him. "Thanks a lot. I think I may
be coming down with something. I don't seem to have any
energy, and I was sick at work earlier. I probably picked up a
bug somewhere."
"It's probably overwork." He put his jacket on and held out
his arm to her. "Let me get you home and pamper you like a
good husband should."
"You've got a deal, believe me."
The two agents stepped tiredly into their apartment. Alex
dropped his keys down beside the phone and checked the
answering machine. "Do you feel like listening to fifteen
messages?"
"I'll pay you not to turn that on," Mulder answered.
"Deal." Alex pulled off his tie and headed for the bedroom.
"Dinner?"
"You want to phone, or will I?"
"I'm not even hungry. Get whatever you want," Alex called
out.
Mulder picked up the phone. "I'm just going to call Beth
and see how she is."
"Say hi from me."
The phone was answered on the fifth ring. "Hello?" The
voice on the other end was slightly groggy.
Mulder winced. "Did I wake you?"
"Fox? No," Beth said, not very convincingly. "I was
reading."
He was silent for a few seconds. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she said. "I'm just—tired, that's all. Nothing to
worry about."
"Do you want me to come and see you tonight? There's
still a little while before visiting hours are over."
"No, don't bother. It was a busy day. I'm probably just
going to crash soon anyway."
"Okay," he said, trying for a brighter tone. "Tomorrow,
then?"
"Sure. I'll see you then. Good-night."
"Good-night." He hung up the phone. Alex's arms came
around him, and he leaned his head back against his lover.
"She's okay?" Alex asked.
"That's what she says."
"Then believe her, Mulder. You can't do it all for her, you
know. She just needs some time."
"I hate feeling helpless."
"You're not. There's a lot that you and I can do—but we
can't do it all right now." He brushed a soft cheek against
Mulder's neck. "Just let it go—for a little while. Just for tonight."
"And do what instead?"
Alex kissed him softly. "Come to bed with me. I need
you."
Mulder turned around, pulling away, and there was regret
in his eyes. "I've been neglecting you too, haven't I?"
"Stop that! Stop blaming yourself for everything that
happens to the people around you!" There was genuine
frustration and anger in Alex's voice. "Give yourself a break, for
once."
"You don't have to yell, you know."
"Trying to talk to you does me as much good as banging
my head against the wall sometimes. Yelling feels better."
"Shh." Mulder kissed him on the mouth, softly. Alex was
still stiff and unyielding to him, but Mulder kept on, kissing and
touching him, pulling him slowing towards the bedroom. "I'm
sorry." Alex opened his mouth to protest the apology, but
Mulder put his hand up over to stop him. "Last 'sorry' that you'll
hear out of me tonight, I promise."
They were inside the darkened bedroom before Alex
kissed him back. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to yell at you."
"I needed it. Sometimes you just have to take me and
bang my head against the wall, to get me to listen." His lips
quirked into a smile. "You used to be rather good at that,
remember?"
Alex rolled his eyes. "I knew my past would come back to
haunt me."
"Wanna play 'catch the intruder' tonight?" Mulder grinned.
"You can be the intruder, and I'll be the frightened homeowner."
He pretended to cower. "Oh, please don't hurt me, mister
burglar," he said, in a high falsetto. "I'll do anything."
"I'd rather just play doctor," Alex laughed. "Turn your head
and cough." He licked the side of Mulder's neck, and pushed
him down on the bed.
Walter come out from the bathroom and looked at his wife,
curled up on her side in their big double bed. He sat gingerly
down on the side of the bed and rubbed his wife's back. "Are
you feeling any better?"
Dana just nodded mutely, fighting the waves of nausea.
She was just as sick now that she was at home as she had
been at work, and had barely been able to sleep at all, despite
heading straight for bed without even a thought of having any
dinner. The mere idea of facing food nearly made her sick
again.
"I'm making you an appointment to see the doctor first
thing tomorrow."
"I'm sure it's nothing, really. Just a touch of the flu, or
something." She tried to smile at him.
"You're one of the healthiest women I've ever known—
except for—"
"It's not the cancer again. I know that." She tried for a
smile. "This feels completely different. Horrible, but different."
"Well, we'll just make sure that it isn't anything serious."
"I am a doctor, you know."
"Then I'd like a second opinion."
"Fine. Call in the morning. I'll never be able to get in right
away, but call."
Walter smiled. "Now I know you're sick. I won with barely
an argument." He dabbed a cool cloth against her forehead.
"And I'll find someone to take a look at you. I know people."
"I knew there was a reason I married you."
"Besides my bedside manner?"
"Don't make me laugh. I'm too miserable."
"Okay, I promise." He held a hand to her cheek. "Your
colour is a little better."
"I think I may be getting my equilibrium back," she smiled.
"It doesn't feel as bad to be alive, now."
"This doesn't mean you're getting out of going to the
doctor, you know."
"I didn't think it would be as easy as that," she sighed.
"Why do you love me, again?"
"It's your glasses. I told you before."
"I'm serious." Mulder turned around in the bed, and
reached for the light switch. Alex ducked his head under a
pillow. "Too bright?"
"Much too bright." He peeked out a little. "Why is it that
you never just fall asleep after sex, anyway? Every man I've
ever known in my life has been completely unconscious within
thirty seconds of orgasm, except for you. You always want to
have deep and meaningful conversations."
Mulder grinned at him. "I'm just special, I guess." He
paused for a moment. "How many is 'every', anyway?"
Alex sighed, finally emerging from under the cover.
"What?"
"You said 'every man' you've ever known. I was just
curious as to how many 'every' would be. A dozen?"
Alex looked at him.
"Am I high, or low?"
"If you're asking me if I'm easy, you should know that
better than anyone yourself, shouldn't you?"
"I just want to know everything about you, baby," Mulder
purred.
"Oh, stop trying to butter me up. You really want to
know?"
Mulder nodded.
Alex thought for a couple of moments. "Forty-two," he
finally said.
Mulder's jaw dropped open. "You've slept with forty-two
men?"
"Uh-huh," Alex nodded. "You asked."
"I didn't think you'd tell me."
"I promised you to always tell you the truth, remember—
love, honour, and obey?"
"You never promised me any such thing!"
Alex looked at him, wide-eyed and innocent. "It must have
been one of the other ones, then." He puzzled. "Maybe it was
thirty-six."
"Thirty—"
"Or maybe it was twenty-nine. He wanted me to run away
with him and join the circus."
Mulder, finally catching on to Alex's teasing, rolled over on
top of him. "You are a terrible person, you know that?"
"And asking me how much I've slept around isn't terrible?"
"Well—you didn't have to string me along like that. I've a
good mind to call up 'thirty-six' and tell him to come and take
you back."
"It wouldn't work. I had to kill him after we broke up. It
was a matter of national security," Alex giggled.
"Oh, shut up."
"Make me."
"Gladly." Mulder threatened him with a pillow. "Oh, hell—
maybe I'll just kiss you."
Beth had fallen asleep reading, and none of the night nurses on
duty had come into her room to turn of the light over her bed
yet. The dark-suited man outside her hospital room had no
troubling watching her through the door's window.
He stood there for at least twenty minutes, then turned
away. Not tonight. Soon, Samantha—but not tonight.
He pulled the collar of his coat up around to shadow his
face, reaching inside the right pocket almost automatically as he
did so.
A passing nurse spoke to him. "I'm sorry sir, but there's
no smoking in this hospital."
He glanced at her, a smile curling the edges of his mouth,
then lit the end of the cigarette in his mouth. He'd never liked
hospitals, anyway...
Six
by Mona Ramsey
Dana looked over the autopsy report on her desk. She'd been
studying it for several hours, page by page, until the words
started to swim before her eyes, and it still didn't make any
more sense than it had the first time. They'd put the body from
the farmhouse through every forensic test that they could think
of, and they still couldn't figure out who she was, where she
came from, and who had sculpted her into a perfect physical
copy of Samantha Mulder. Or, even more importantly, why.
