*You Never Know*

By Surreal 
Feedback!!:  surreal666@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13 for a couple of dirty words.
Archive: please do, but tell me if it happens
Disclaimer:  I just want the cute ones, you can keep the rest.
Spoilers:  Unusual Suspects, Three of a Kind, Requiem
Summery:  Scully and Byers bond on Independence Day.



July 4th, 2000
Washington Monument, waterside
11:13pm

    Independence day.  I'm slowly walking down the cement
path along side the large body of water in the middle of
Washington DC.  An enormous pillar of rock, almost primitive
in its simplicity, casts a dim, dark shadow on the water, 
nearly black under the blanket of night.  
    What is it there for?  To represent people who've died
fighting for this country?  No.  It was built by the government; 
the same heartless, mindless machine that handed men who 
were not even out of their teenage years guns, uniforms, and
maps and sent them away, not caring if they ever returned.
How could that same government, who forced so many away to
be killed when I was barely starting public school, expect
people to forget what was really going on?  Those people did
not die for their *country*, they died with the hopes of holding
back a false enemy to protect their families, an enemy created 
by the same government that later glorified their deaths with
these giant monuments.
    It's a never-ending cycle; behind closed doors, political 
figures strategies ways to keep the public's eyes off of them.  
They create enemies; the Cold War?  HA.  No one was ever 
going to actually hit the big red panic button and blow up the 
planet.  But if word ever got out about what was really 
happening within the guarded gates of the Pentagon, the 
American people would see who the enemy truly is.  Wars,
scandals, gossip;  all fabrications of a much larger beast:
power.  
    I realize I've stopped walking; I'm standing, staring blankly
over the still, flat body of water.  The smooth surface, 
undisturbed by wind, people, birds, is as clear as a pane of 
glass.  A mirror, reflecting my surroundings.  Light poles
create their own reflection, orange balls floating on the 
surface.  I see the objects around me, but I look away quickly,
suddenly afraid that I'll see myself.  A superstitious fear, I 
know, but sometimes those can be the most harmful.  I'm 
afraid of what I'll see there;  will I see the man who was 
brought up to trust in the government, to believe what I'm
told by my political leaders, who even worked for that same
government;  or will I see the man who has now taken to hiding 
in the shadows, fighting an underground battle that everyone
has to understand, but no one can know about?  
    I move away from the water, but not fast enough.  Something
shining in the water catches my eye, and my own curious
nature forces me to glance back.  I see my own left hand, 
hanging at my side;  the thin band of gold twisted around
the ring finger has been caught in the light of one of the 
lamps and the shine reflects too brightly back to me from 
the surface of the water.  I feel my chest tighten, my breath
caught in the knot that has formed.  That's what I was afraid
of; I know which man I see tonight.  The one who followed her
all those years ago, blinded by love and unwittingly pulled into 
the underground fight, unaware that in doing so, I pulled a 
group of innocents in with me.  

**************************

11:26pm

    Mulder would kick my ass if he knew I was taking a near-
midnight stroll alone, pregnant, in the Washington Monument
park area.  But he's not here, is he?  
    It's Independence Day, what used to be one of my favorite
holidays as a child.  I always felt it gave me a new sense of
faith, *trust*, in my country, and in that, my government.
The same government I turned to instead of medicine, and 
has caused me more pain in my life than I ever thought possible.
Why do I still do it?  How can I still claim allegiance to a 
system that has betrayed me for so many years?  I've thought
about quitting so many times; why don't I?  What more could
I possibly prove?  My reason for staying is gone; taken from
me by the very thing he worked so hard to expose.
    I glance around at my surroundings.  The water is so still, 
everything is so quiet.  I think I must be alone out here, this
late at night, despite the holiday.  I turn away from the water, 
casting my glance further down the path toward the monument
itself.  It has always reminded me of something that belongs 
in ancient Egypt, not downtown Washington DC.  
    I let me gaze wonder, and I almost miss the figure seated next
to the water.  He is sitting very still, his dark clothing blending 
in with the night.  Guess I'm not alone.  But I'm not afraid.  
    Squinting, I begin to sense recognition.  Something about that
man seems familiar.  
    Despite my better judgment, I cautiously approach him, not 
too close but enough to get a better feel for who it could be.
Hey...

    "Byers?  Is that you?"
    The man visibly jumps, and his head spins around to face me.
    Yes, it *is* John Byers.  
    "Agent Scully?  What are you doing here so late?  Are you 
alone?" he asks disbelievingly.  There is something about 
his voice, almost choked.  I see him hastily swipe his right
hand across his cheeks, as if to wipe away tears.
    "Yeah, I'm just out for a walk.  John, are you okay?  What's 
wrong?"  Despite his best effort to hide it, I can tell he has 
been crying.  I carefully sit down on the path next to him, 
ignoring the bite of the freezing cement on my backside.
    He looks away, hiding his face.  "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he 
says hurriedly.  
    I place my hand on his back, feel his breathing is unsteady.
"Byers, I know you're not fine.  Please, talk to me.  What's 
wrong?"  
    He gives me a quick glance, then goes back to staring at
the ground.  He's got his legs pulled up to his chin and his arms
wrapped tightly around his legs, resting his furry chin on his
knees.  
    Something shiny in the water catches my eye, and I glance
at it for a moment, simply out of human curiosity.  It's the 
reflection of Byers' left hand; the gold wedding band on his 
finger has caught the light of one of the lamps.  When I look
back at him I see that he has caught my distraction.  
    He gives me a small smile, and finally speaks.  "What do 
you see there?"
    I'm confused by his question.  "What do you mean?"
    "When that caught my attention a while ago, I saw some-
thing I didn't want to see."
    My mind tries to grasp his train of thought.  That wedding 
band; he's not married...so, what is...?  Oh, wait.  There was 
that woman, in Las Vegas a couple of years ago.  They seemed
very close;  was she his...wife?
    "It's my fault, you know," Byers suddenly says.
    "What is?"
    He shrugs.  "All of this."  He pauses, taking a deep breath 
and sighing.  "Did Mulder ever tell you how all of us got into
all of this?  The whole government conspiracy thing?"
    "Vaguely.  I know he started working on the X-files on his
own, not under assignment, originally.  But he never said how
you guys were involved, no."
    "It was because of Suzanne."
    "The woman in Las Vegas?  You mean, you knew her before?"
    He laughs softly.  "Of course.  Do I seem like the type to 
spontaneously fall in love and risk the lives of my friends at
the drop of a hat?"
    I smile at the thought.  "No, you don't."
    Suddenly the smile drops from his face.  "Well, I am."
    I look at him curiously.  I wasn't expecting that.
    "I used to work for the FCC," he tells me, and I can't help
but smile at the thought of such a devout hacker being an 
officer with the Federal Communications Commission.  He 
chooses to ignore my smirk and continues.  "I was working 
at a conference in Baltimore eleven years ago when Suzanne 
approached me, and I fell for her, just like that.  I offered 
to help her, and everything just started happening.  I asked 
Frohike for help; he was running his own booth there, and 
eventually he pulled in Langly, his own competition!  When 
Mulder showed up looking for Suzanne, we did our best 
to hide her.  She was convinced the government was out 
to get her, and since Mulder was FBI that meant he was out
to get her, even if just to arrest her.  It just kept getting 
more complex, more lies and government cover-ups.  We
found the truth, and it got Suzanne kidnapped."
    "She was taken?  By who?"
    He shrugs again.  "Shadow figures of the government.  
The man who Mulder would later refer to as 'Mr. X' was 
one of them.  They took her, and I spent ten years looking
for her, dragging Frohike and Langly along for the ride
with me.  Mulder was there; we told him about the conspiracy
we uncovered.  That pulled him into it, too.  I mean, he 
was already involved unwittingly, but it was us who really
forced him to face the facts and...well, you know the rest.
All of this, the past ten years, all because I fell in love with
that woman."
    He looks at his left hand, his thumb absently twisting the 
ring on his finger.  "Seems stupid, doesn't it?"
    I'm not sure what to say, but I have to say something.
"No, it's not stupid.  Where would you, or any of us, be
if none of that had happened in Baltimore?"
    He lets out a strangled little laugh.  I can see he has 
still not totally composed himself.  "Can you imagine?
I'd still be working for the FCC, mindlessly following
orders, blissfully unaware of what was going on above
me.  Frohike and Langly, they'd still be running their 
illegal cable operations, not having to worry about being
killed at any moment.  Mulder...Jesus, I have no idea where
he would be, but I'm sure he wouldn't be wherever he is 
tonight..." he trails off, his emotions keeping him from
finishing his thought.  
    "What about Suzanne?" I ask softly.
    He sniffs, rubbing his palm over his face.  "What 
about her?"
    "If you hadn't interfered, she would be dead by
now."
    "She *is* dead," he snaps bitterly, then cringes at his
own tone.  "We killed her in Vegas, remember?"
    I nod, suddenly understanding why he is here, tonight.
It's Independence Day, and he is blaming himself for 
taking away the freedom of the people he has grown to
love.  
    "John, they are in this because they want to be, not 
because you, or anyone, forced them to.  You just gave
them that extra little push they needed to get started,
and the rest just fell into place." 
    As I try to reassure him, I rub my hand over his back, 
and I feel him relax slightly under my touch.  He looks up
at me, and finally gives me a real smile.  
    "Besides, you need to be more spontaneous," I tell him
jokingly, hoping to raise his spirits.  "The only time I've 
ever seen you do anything remotely unplanned was tricking
me into coming to Vegas."
    He suddenly sits up straight, and looks at me strangely.
What the...
    He jumps to his feet, and before I know what's going on
he shrugs off his trench coat and lets it drop next to me.  
    "Byers?" I ask, but before I can continue he takes off.
"John, wait, what....OH SHIT!!  BYERS!!" 
    With his running start, he makes an impressive dive
straight into the freezing water of the Washington 
Monument pond.  John Fitzgerald Byers, in his brown suit,
in the middle of the night on Independence Day, dives
head first into the reflecting pool.
    "Oh my god!!" I'm laughing hard now, I can't help it.  
I don't know what else to do.
    After a few long seconds his resurfaces about twenty
feet away, shakes the water off his head and starts 
swimming back toward me.  
    I reach down and help him back onto the cement.  He 
looks at me, a giant, goofy grin on his face.  He's absolutely
frozen.  I pick up his jacket and drape it over his trembling
shoulders.  
    "Byers, if you ever do anything like that again, I'll kick
your ass!"
    He laughs, and calls my bluff.  "You just told me I should 
be more spontaneous," he argues, his teeth clicking together
as his jaw shakes.
    I wrap my arm around his waist and lead him toward the 
parking lot.  "Come on, I'm driving you home.  You're going
to catch a cold out here, you're soaked."
    He smiles gratefully.  "So, do you want to explain this to
Frohike and Langly, or should I?"

***************
 
The end.