Helena, Montana
11th December
7:48 a.m. (Mountain time)
Scully shoulders her way into a hotel room, cell phone
perched precariously on her shoulder. She
juggles carry-on, laptop and briefcase in one hand, in
the other she clutches a thick sheaf of
papers.
"Yeah, I've found out about Teresa already,"
she says into the phone.
Back in DC, Byers looks up as Frohike and Langly move
closer to the phone. They urge their friend to
put her on speaker phone, which he does.
"Where are you, Agent Scully?" Byers
asks.
"I'm in Montana," Scully
says. "Teresa Hoese turned up last
night. Hers was one of the names I had police
departments and hospitals flag. A nurse from
Deaconess Medical Center called me late
yesterday. I caught a red-eye out here."
"What are you going to do?" Frohike pitches in.
"Well, I'm dropping my bags here at the hotel, them
I'm going to the hospital. Hopefully I'll be
able to see Teresa."
Langly looks at his friends, wondering if he should ask
what he knows they all want to. "Do you
want us out there?"
They hear Scullys sigh over the
phone. "I'd appreciate that, but I might
need you guys to do something for me
there. Just stay put. I'll be in
touch."
The Lone Gunmen look at each other as they hear the phone
line disconnect.
"Let's see what else we can find," Frohike
says, as he moves toward his computer.
In the hotel room, Scully lowers herself to a chair,
dreading the next call she must make.
Reluctantly, she dials the number and awaits an answer.
"Kimberley, this is Agent Scully. I need
to speak with the Assistant Director."
A moment later, Skinner's voice comes on the line.
"Agent Scully, are you aware that we have a meeting
with Deputy Director Kersh in ten
minutes?" He
demands. "Where are you?"
"Helena, Montana. I received a phone call
last night. Teresa Hoese is
back. She was admitted to Deaconess Medical
Center. I'm on my way there."
Skinner's voice betrays his shock. "The
young mother who was abducted just before Agent
Mulder?"
"Yes." Scully closes her eyes, her
next words barely above a
whisper. "Hanging on to life by a
thread."
"Do you know the specifics of her condition?"
"The nurse I spoke with was kind enough to fax me a
copy of her preliminary chart." Scully
swallows, trying to maintain her
composure. "Sir, she was tortured."
A sigh is heard from Skinner. Then, "Have
you spoken with Agent Doggett?
"No."
"I'll be out there as soon as I
can," Skinner tells her, leaving no room
for argument.
Scully nods. "Thank you. About
Kersh
"
"I'll handle it. You find out what you
can about Teresa Hoese." He
pauses. "This is. . .
"I know," Scully
interrupts. "I'll see you
soon." She disconnects the phone
and exhales deeply. She's hoped for something
like this for so long. She only prays that
it's what she has been waiting for.
Washington DC
FBI Headquarters
11th December
9:59 a.m. (Eastern time)
Skinner enters Kersh's office and sees Doggett is already
seated.
"Thank you for joining us Assistant Director,"
Kersh greets him, in a tone that is anything but
welcoming. Skinner seats himself as his
superior folds his hands on the desk and assumes an
inquisitive tone.
"A.D. Skinner, would you be able to explain to me
why Agent Scully wasn't able to make this meeting?"
Skinner hesitates, then answers. "Agent
Scully is following up on an ongoing case. New
information came to light last night. She felt
it necessary to follow up in person."
"In Helena, Montana?" Kersh
sneers. "What exactly is this new
information?"
Skinner's face shows his surprise, then anger.
"What exactly is this new
information?" Kersh continues.
"Teresa Hoese, a woman who. . . disappeared shortly
before Agent Mulder, was admitted to a Helena hospital
last night."
Doggett looks at Skinner sharply. It's obvious
he had no idea of this latest break in his investigation.
"I see." Kersh
responds. "I want Agent Scully
informed that she must follow Bureau procedures and
protocol in order to continue investigation on a pending
case. Failure to do so will result in her
immediate suspension. And, I want her back in
DC to answer to me about this lack of adherence to
policy. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," Skinner replies. Doggett
just nods. They take their leave, and are
almost to the door when Kershs voice reaches them
again.
"Deliver that message personally, Assistant
Director. And John?"
Doggett turns back. "Yes, sir?"
"Make sure he does."
Doggett just nods again.
The two men walk down the hallway, headed for the
elevator.
As soon as they are out of earshot of the Deputy
Director, Doggett challenges his
superior. "When did you speak with Agent
Scully?" Doggett asks.
Skinner stops and turns to face him in front of the
elevator. "About five minutes before I
walked in there."
"Agent Scully and I talked about this--- taking off
without telling me. I thought we had come to
an understanding where searching for Agent Mulder is
concerned."
Skinner gives a grunt of annoyance, looking away.
"Look," Doggett says with a hint of appeal in
his tone. "I like Agent
Scully. I admire her. She's a good
agent. I want to help her, and I know that's
all you want too. But I can't do it like
this. Not if she locks me out."
Skinner gives a displeased nod, and after a moment the
elevator arrives. The two men step inside.
Deaconess Medical Center
6:23 p.m.
Scully's head jerks up from where she's been nodding off
as she sits in the waiting room of the
hospital. She looks around the nearly empty
lounge, blinking blearily until her eyes settle on what
has disturbed her rest. Someone has entered
the waiting room, a young man in his late teens or early
twenties. He stands across the room staring at
her as though he can't quite place her. She,
however, recalls him.
"Richie?" she asks groggily.
"Do I - do I know you?" he replies, squinting
at her.
"I'm Agent Scully, with the FBI,"
she reminds him. "We met in
Oregon at the time Mul- Mrs. Hoese
disappeared. Your friend was abducted too, if
I recall."
"Yeah," he mumbles. "I
uh, Ive heard rumours they found someone I
had hoped . ." his voice trails off.
Scullys expression softens slightly, empathizing
with the young mans pain. "Teresa
Hoese was found," she tells him.
His face goes suddenly ashen and he sits down heavily
beside her, confusion apparent in his face.
"Why are you here?" Scully asks gently.
"I just flew in," he tells
her. "Word was on a MUFON message board
that there'd been some sightings out here, and I thought
maybe I might be able to get some proof, make people
believe me about Gary. . . Then someone
told me a woman had been taken into hospital."
"Well, it is Teresa Hoese. She's
unconscious. We don't know yet the full extent
of what's been done to her, but whatever it was, it's
nearly killed her."
The boy gives an audible gasp.
"The doctors aren't sure she'll pull
through. There hasn't been any word that
they've found your friend," she adds
sympathetically. Her expression is soft and
sad; she knows Richie Szalay's anguish all too well.
"I'd almost given up hope any of them would be
returned," Richie murmurs.
"Have you been looking?" Scully asks, curiosity
seeping through her exhaustion.
The young man lifts his head, worry replaced by
enthusiasm. "Yeah. I think I
got close once, a few months ago. I was, like,
on this dirt road following this UFO doing like, eighty
miles an hour, and I'm like, 'This is not
happening! This is NOT happening!' and then
BAM! There was this huge flash of light, brighter than
day, and I'm like, blinded, you know? My car
dies and I'm out in the middle of nowhere and the
UFO? Pfffft! It's outta
there. I had to walk 20 miles to the nearest
farm in the middle of the night. That was back
in October, and I haven't been this close since
then. It's like all the UFO's just stopped
comin' around, you know?"
Scully smiles wanly, unable to be as enthusiastic or
animated as Richie now appears. Her expression
falls, however, as the doors open and Skinner enters, his
face serious. An equally grim Agent Doggett
follows.
She rises from her chair, and Richie, sensing something
dire in the presence of these two men, looks back and
forth between her and them. Mumbling excuses,
he leaves the room.
Scully stands. Her demeanor is an awkward
combination of embarrassment and defiance. She
knows she should not have ventured out to Montana without
consulting either of them, but she's prepared to go on
the offensive if either of them attempts to chastise her
for it. She sags in relief when Skinner
chooses another tack.
"How are you?" he asks.
"I'm fine."
Reluctantly, Doggett speaks up. "Agent
Scully . . . I have to warn you that Deputy Director
Kersh was talking of the possibility of suspension due to
failure to follow proper procedure." He
says this almost gently.
Scully meets his gaze, eyebrow lifted.
"And he wants you back in DC," he continues.
"I see." She knows that Doggett
knows she wont leave. "Not until
Ive had a chance to speak to Teresa," she
says.
"Has she regained consciousness?" Skinner asks.
"No, not yet," Scully answers, with a
sigh. "We don't know what's wrong with
her. She came around this morning for a little
while long enough to ask for her baby but
that's it. If she were any further out of it,
she'd be comatose."
Skinner moves to sit down, urging Scully to join
him. "I think I can plead leniency for
you, since you're out here investigating an open case,
which means the lack of paperwork isn't an
issue. There's a standing 302
already. But Scully, you're on very thin ice
and you know as well as I do that Kersh would just as
soon you drown. And frankly, the fact that the
disappearance of Teresa Hoese is an open case isn't going
to carry a lot of weight. He knows the real
reason you flew out here."
Scully looks at him pointedly. Her eyes flash
over to Doggett standing across from her and
Skinner. Standing with his arms crossed, he
looks guarded and disapproving and somewhat
hurt. She wont apologize
though. Theres no time for
it.
"I'll fax him my resignation if he wants
it. But I'm not leaving here until I've spoken
to her. I can't." she says
flatly.
"But
" Skinner starts to
protest, but Doggett cuts him off.
He moves to stand in front of Scully.
"Sir, may I have a moment with Agent
Scully?", he asks
diplomatically. Skinner appears about to
refuse, then gives a stiff nod. He rises and
moves to the other side of the waiting room as Doggett
sits next to Scully.
"Agent Scully-- what if, even if you do get to talk
to that woman in there, she can't help you find
Mulder? Then what? You tender your
resignation, Deputy Director Kersh will be only too happy
to accept it. Then what will you do the next
time you've got a lead on Mulder and you need the Bureau
resources to follow up on it?"
"So what do you think I should do, Agent
Doggett?" she asks defensively. "Go meekly back
to Washington and miss whatever chance I might have to
get the information I need from this woman?"
"No. I'm suggesting you go back to
Washington to try and prevent this thing with Kersh from
getting any worse and let me try to get the
information we need from this woman."
Scully looks shocked, them offers him a small
smile. "I'm sorry, Agent
Doggett. You surprised me there for a
moment. I, uh . . . I appreciate the offer, I
do. But you and I had an agreement,
remember? You'd look for the clues in this
world and I'd take everything else. You're not
a believer, and that's fine. I never was
before, either. But anyone other than a
believer might not know what to look for in what this
woman has to say. Whatever she's going to tell
us, I can assure you, is not of this world."
He nods, sighing thoughtfully. "Then I'll
get help," he answers with resolve.
Two hours later
Skinner is counting ceiling tiles when a man in a lab
coat enters the waiting room. The man moves
purposely towards Scully; Skinner nudges her, and she
looks up from the magazine she was perusing.
"Agent Scully?" the man inquires.
"Doctor Desai." She smiles slightly
as she stands. "This is Assistant Director Skinner
and ...." She looks around and finds Doggett across
the room, talking quietly on his cell
phone. She indicates him with a
nod. "... and Special Agent
Doggett." She turns to Skinner.
"Doctor Desai is treating Teresa."
Skinner asks the question on both of their
minds. "How is she?"
The doctor sighs. "In twelve years, I
have never seen anything near this level of
mistreatment." It is obvious to the
agents that Teresa's condition has angered the man before
him.
Scully interjects, "Doctor, its important we
see the victim as soon as possible, or well never
know who did this to her." Its an
obvious ploy, but it works. The doctor
hesitates only a moment before leading them out of the
waiting room and down the corridor.
It appears as if Dr. Desai is going to refuse their
seeing Teresa, but he doesn't. "This
young woman shouldn't be alive." He turns
and leads the three of them out of the waiting room and
down the corridor.
Skinner walks beside him. Halfway down in the
hall Doggett joins them. Skinner looks over
his shoulder and notices Scully hanging back, seeming
reluctant to do the one thing she must face Teresa
Hoese.
Entering the room, Skinner waits for
Scully. She moves slowly, coming to stand next
to her superior. It appears to Skinner that
she must force herself to look at the woman lying on the
bed. As soon as she does, her eyes slam
shut. Skinner discreetly places a hand on her
back, meaning to steady and comfort her. He
turns his attention to the doctor, who is speaking.
"
asked for her baby this morning. I
suspect that's the only thought keeping her
alive." The doctor pauses, then
adds, "It almost seems as if someone was
experimenting on her."
Skinner lifts his head sharply, tearing his gaze from the
woman in question. "What exactly was done
to her?"
"There's tissue damage inside her cheeks in a linear
pattern. Her chest was cut into and organ
tissue in her abdomen was scooped away. In the
x-rays I see damage to the soft palate."
Skinner feels Scully stiffen beside
him. "In the x-rays, did you see, um. . .
anything else? Foreign
objects?" Scully asks, carefully
looking at no one in the room.
"I'm not sure what you
mean." The doctor sounds confused.
Scully lifts her gaze to the
doctor. "Little pieces of metal?
Implants?"
"No, I didn't."
A voice interrupts them and the four standing around
Teresa Hoese turn to see Richie standing in the doorway,
looking with horrified fascination at the woman on the
hospital bed. "Will she be all
right?" he asks again, his voice trembling.
"We don't know," the doctor responds.
"Who's this?" Doggett demands suspiciously,
recognizing the young man who had left the waiting room
earlier.
Scully moves from Skinner's side to stand next to
Richie. "This is Richie
Szalay. He's from Mrs. Hoese's
hometown. He was there when she disappeared
last year."
"So what's he doing here?" Doggett questions.
Richie hesitates, looking to Scully for support, which
she offers with a slight nod. "I heard
there were sightings out here," he
answers. "I came to check it out."
Doggett stares intently at the young
man. "Isn't it awfully convenient that
someone from this woman's home town shows up around the
same time she does?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Richie asks
defensively.
"Do you know what a moulage casting is,
Richie?"
He shakes his head.
Doggett steps closer to the young man as a means
of intimidation, Skinner
recognizes. "It's what the cops take when
they find shoe prints. They do these plaster
castings and the ones they got from the field yesterday
were from size nine and a half Nikes. I got a
chance to review the Lewis and Clark County Sheriff's
Office report on the drive over here. You ever
hear of an alien in Nikes?" He looks
pointedly at Richie's shoes.
Richie swallows; Doggett's tactics seem to have worked on
the boy. "Doesn't mean it wasn't."
"Did it ever occur to you that it wasn't an alien,
but a man?"
"Agent Doggett!" Scully
snaps. "You have no basis for any
accusation. He's out here looking for someone
he lost just like we are." Scully
looks to Skinner, then back at Doggett, her face becoming
hard and cold. "I'd like to speak to you
alone, Agent Doggett."
Scully leads Doggett into the hallway outside Teresa's
room. She hears the door shut behind
them. She whirls around on him, eyes blazing
with fury. "Just what the hell do you
think you're doing, Agent Doggett? Accusing
that boy of Mrs. Hoese's disappearance? Of
that of his friend? Just like Kersh wanted to
accuse Skinner and me of Mulder's? Is that
what you're trying to do? I gave you more
credit than that."
Doggett doesn't back down. "I said I'd
look for answers within this world, Agent Scully,
remember? That means pressing a witness to get
the truth when I have to," he states emphatically.
"And with this attitude, I'm supposed to trust you
to get answers from Teresa Hoese? You want to
hook her up to a polygraph, right there beside her
EKG?"
"It's not worth arguing about. The point
here is to find Mulder."
Scully sighs. "And for months, that's
what we've been trying to do. That's what I've
been chasing after. I'm not about to let you
ruin the best chance we've had so far just because you
can't open your eyes to the truth. Because
what we've got here is as close to the truth as we're
ever going to get."
"What we've got is hope. But lets be
honest, Agent Scully, about what no one wants to
say." His voice gentles, his words
hesitant.
Scully looks puzzled, her head tilted curiously as her
partner continues.
"Bad as you want to find Mulder, you're afraid to
find him, too," he says softly.
Scully shakes her head in denial, her eyes growing glassy
with tears she'll be damned before she sheds in front of
this man. "No "
"You think I haven't been there? I've
been there, Agent Scully. I can tell you every
thought going through your mind right
now. This is the final inning, the moment of
truth. Looking for otherworldly answers gives
you something to hold on to, some hope that there's a
chance. You don't want to confront the
possibility that if what happened to Mulder was
orchestrated by human hands, it's almost certainly
final."
"You're wrong Agent Doggett." she snaps, her
voice rough with emotion. "You couldn't
be more wrong."
She turns from him and stalks down the corridor, her
shoulders hunched as if from physical pain, her arms
crossed over her chest. Presently, she hears
the door of the hospital room open, and when she finally
turns to look back, Doggett is gone. She
blinks, and a tear slides from her eye, down the side of
her face.
Briar Dene Hotel
12th December
12.34 am
The Briar Dene hotel is made up of two
wings. Scully winds up on the opposite
wing from the two men, and has to cross the courtyard if
she wants to visit them. Shortly after
midnight she finds herself making her way through the
darkness, half- embarrassed, to Skinners
room. She gives a hesitant knock on the door,
which is immediately answered - obviously he has not been
sleeping too well either, even though he is wearing
pajamas.
A look of surprise crosses his face as he regards her,
his eyes full of an unanswered question. It is
left to Scully to break the silence. She is
almost apologetic.
"Im sorry. I had a bad
dream.."
Skinners face looks tortured. "Hang
on a moment, let me put some clothes on."
When Skinner emerges, he is wearing a shirt and
trousers. Scully turns her gaze from the sky,
which she has been regarding with a rare
intensity. "I had a talk with Mulder
once, about starlight," she whispers, as if
betraying an important secret. "About how
its billions of years old. It wont
die, that light. Perhaps its the only
thing that never does. He said its where
souls reside."
Her voice breaks even more as she searches his eyes for
some kind of answer that she knows he cant
give. "I hope hes right."
Skinners face is contorted with guilt he had
let Scully down, had let Mulder down. Had lost
him, failed to protect him. Deep inside of
him, he cant admit that Mulder wont be coming
back, for that is the only way to eradicate his guilt.
"If youre trying to prepare yourself, I want
you to stop." he says
huskily. "Look, nothing says that Mulder
wont just come walking out of the
fields. Nothing says he wont be
fine."
At those words, Scully falters, two tears slipping from
her eyes. She ducks her head to keep Skinner
from seeing them, dashing them away with her fingertips.
"What if what if Agent Doggett is
right? What if I'm only looking to the stars
for the answers because I can't accept the truth?"
"It's not a matter of accepting the truth,"
Skinner says softly, intently taking her by the
shoulders.
"I saw what I saw. We know where Mulder
is. We know the truth. He's out
there and he'll be back."
Her mouth tightens and her voice grows hoarse as her
composure begins to crack. "Maybe that's
what I'm afraid of," she chokes
out. "When I left Washington last night
after I got that phone call, I didn't pause. I
didn't hesitate, I didn't think about it. I
just got on the first plane I could find and
left. But I didn't want to do
it. Somehow, somewhere I was dreading coming
out here. Dreading what I might find
here."
Skinner cant answer, and he senses she's not
finished. He waits silently for her to
continue, and after a moment, she does, her voice
steadier.
"Years ago, on the John Lee Roche case, one of the
parents whose little girl's body we found told us that
he'd always thought that missing was worse than
dead. That it's the not knowing that tears you
apart. And sometimes I think maybe he's
right. I wonder how Mulder could possibly have
lived like this for so many years. But then I
wonder Her voice catches,
breaking. what I would ever
do if I found him and. . .
Her face crumples. Her breath hitches in a
sob, and she closes her eyes in
despair. Skinner pats her shoulder helplessly
for a moment, then she feels his arm close around her,
and he pulls her to his chest and lets her
cry.
Deaconess Medical Center
1:45a.m.
Doctor Desai enters the intensive care
ward. The nurse looks up in surprise - she
didn't expect him to be there. "May I
help you, doctor?" she asks.
As he speaks his expression is strangely unsure, his tone
hesitant, far from the doctors usual casual
arrogance. "Yes, I want to have a patient
transferred. Teresa Hoese."
"To be transferred?" The situation
goes from strange to very odd
indeed. Transferring a patient in the middle
of the night is definitely not standard
procedure. But the nurse can make no
objection.
"To another facility. I'd like to get her ready as
soon as we can," he says simply.
"Okay."
Briar Dene Hotel
4:52 a.m.
Scully awakens fully dressed lying across the hotel bed,
having finally gotten some sleep. She brings
the ringing telephone to her ear.
"Yeah? Hold on. . . Who took
her? Well, has anybody talked to the doctor
and asked him why? Or where? Well,
where's Agent Doggett
now?" Scullys face shows her
confusion.
Teresa has disappeared.
Holten Dam Recreation Area
12th December
6:29am
Skinner and Scully arrive at a run-down diner near to the
airport. Scully gets out of the car as they
stop and approaches Doggett, who is waiting for them.
"Did you find her?" Scully asks, referring to
Teresa.
"No," Doggett answers.
"No? I don't understand. Why
did you ask us to come here." Scullys face
shows her perplexion. This is a waste of time.
"To get another point of view."
"Another point of view? We have a patient
missing a witness missing, Agent
Doggett." Scully's irritation at the
seemingly needless delay is evident.
"Remember that help I said I would
get? This is who I was talking
about. Her name is Monica
Reyes. She helped out on a case
once. My son's kidnapping and
murder." He shares this very
matter-of-factly, hesitating only for a brief
moment. It's all Scully needs. Her
defensiveness fades, and she draws a deep breath to focus
herself again.
"I trust her, and she's a little more open
to what you call extreme possibilities than I
am." This in a self-deprecating tone.
He indicates the woman coming through the open doors
towards them. She is a brunette, taller than
Scully.
"She's FBI?" Skinner asks, eyeing
the approaching agent.
"Yeah. She's got some expertise I thought
we might take advantage of."
Scully looks at Doggett
quizzically. "Expertise in what?"
"She's got her master's in religious
studies. Her specialty is ritualistic
crime."
"Ritualistic crime? Are we working the
same case here?" Scully asks.
Doggett is embarrassed but
determined. "You gotta take what you can
get, Agent Scully. You wanted a
believer." They move to join Agent Reyes,
Doggett smiling slightly as he introduces her to the
others. "Agent Reyes."
She tosses a cigarette butt to the ground and smiles
openly, obviously nervous.
"Assistant Director Skinner, Agent Scully, this is
Monica Reyes." Doggett continues.
Reyes flashes a smile at the two of
them. "Hi."
Skinner and Scully make no move. They stand
there staring silently at her. Their lack of
reaction does nothing to ease Agent Reyes'
nervousness. She moves to the butt she has
just discarded and stomps on it. She knows it
is already out, but needs something to do to break the
tension that is now tangible. She turns to
Scully and Skinner, her arms crossed over her chest.
"I know, it's not very FBI of me, but I'm really
trying to quit," she stammers.
Skinner and Scully nod.
"So, Agent Doggett's been taking me through the
case. Interesting."
Scully quirks her eyebrow and says,
"Interesting?"
"Well, I've always been fascinated by abduction or
alleged abduction cases. Often, they're
confused with satanic ritual abuse and vice versa, so I
get called in a lot. People tend to want to
find an earthly explanation for such things."
"Where have I heard that before?" Scully
mutters under her breath. Doggett grimaces.
Reyes continues. "Often, what we think
happened and what actually happened aren't always the
same thing. What happened being different from
what we want to have happened."
Scully interrupts. "Excuse me, are you
saying you think that our operational theory is
mistaken? That what we believe happened isn't
what happened to them?"
"Well, at this point, I couldn't presume to form a
theory, not having seen or interviewed the
victims. But I'm given to understand that
there were no physical markings or injuries that would
account for her present condition. In cases of
ritual abuse, that's usually not the
case. It's possible that whatever cult got
hold of her used some form of drug or poison on
her."
"Her tox screen was clean."
Reyes considers this for a moment. "Maybe
she was given something that wouldn't show up in your
normal battery of tests. Or perhaps her
near-comatose state is trauma induced, more psychosomatic
than physical, but again, I can't say."
Scully sighs deeply, rubbing her temples, nearing the end
of her patience. "So what can you
say?"
"We don't know that the woman who was found out here
didn't inflict her own injuries, willingly ingest or
inject whatever has her in her present
state. She was dropped here by someone and
whoever it was cared enough not to kill
her. That could be an indicator that it was
cult-related, as could be the fact that someone came back
for her."
"Agent Reyes, we're dealing with abductions here,
and not by any cult, Skinner
says. "I witnessed it. I know
what I saw."
"Yes, sir," she
replies. "I just want to make sure
that we understand all the factors here and what they
could mean for the investigation. If there's a
more plausible explanation than abduction, the local
authorities, the victim's next of kin . .
. everyone will want to seize on
that. But eliminating those explanations as a
possibility, we can cut through all
that. Which means we have to explore them
first."
Scully shakes her head
impatiently. "Agent Reyes, cut to the
chase. What are you saying? That
you have another theory you feel we should be
pursuing?"
"I'm saying that we need to at least explore the
possibility that this case isn't what we think it
is. If for no other reason than to eliminate
it."
"So, what do you think happened?" Scully asks
bluntly.
"It's not what I think happened; it's what I believe
could be a possibility. I'm told that Agent
Mulder and the other people who were taken were true
believers. People 100% convinced in the
abduction phenomenon."
Skinner looks weary. "If this is about
these people staging their own abductions. . .
"No, it's about people coming
together. Like minds as a group," Reyes
clarifies.
Scullys hands go to her hips as she tries to stare
down the taller woman. "So you're
basically saying that Agent Mulder has joined some sort
of UFO cult."
Reyes smiles. "Call it a group."
"I remind you again, Agent Reyes, that I witnessed
what happened. But, just for a moment
say that youre right. Mulder joined
a cult for what?" Skinner asks.
"Well, we've all heard the news stories about
transport to a mothership, the idea of a giant
motherwheel. The whole Heaven's Gate
thing."
Scully remains totally unconvinced. "I
see."
Agent Doggett jumps in. "It'd make
sense. The leader of the cult leaves this
woman out here to die. Learning she's still
alive he comes back to kidnap her again for fear of
exposure. It'd make sense, too, that if we
find this guy, maybe we find Mulder."
Scully scoffs. "Are you expecting me to
believe this? Is that why you brought her
here? To try and talk me into pursuing another
theory? One that's a little better suited to
your world view? Or at least one that isn't
going to piss off Deputy Director Kersh?"
Reyes corrects Doggett. "No, that's not
what I said. I don't think he left her to
die. I don't think she's dead."
"Based on what?" Scully snaps.
"Nothing really. Just a feeling."
Scully practically growls. "That's
it. I've had enough of this. Agent
Reyes, you can stand here and 'eliminate theories' all
you want, but I don't have that sort of
time. I have to find my
partner."
Scully turns on her heel and walks away without another
word. Doggett follows. Reyes smiles
uncomfortably at Skinner.
"What are you walking away for? It makes
some kind of sense." Doggett calls to her
from behind.
Scully stops abruptly and pivots to face
him. "I'm glad you agree with her, Agent
Doggett, because I'm not even sure that she agrees with
you. Nor has she made any sense of how the
doctor who removed Teresa Hoese from the hospital last
night seems, by all accounts, to have been in two places
at once."
Doggett looks put off. "I know where
you're going with this, Agent Scully. But if
you're going to tell me this is another alien bounty
hunter, this is where we part company. I
simply don't believe such a thing exists."
"That's fine for you. But I've seen these
things. I know that they do, and I don't have
any inclination to coddle you while you pick and choose
what you want to believe. Just because you
don't believe it, doesn't make it any less real."
She turns and walks away.
Absaloms farm
11.13am
In a small copse of trees, a man emerges from an
underground shelter of sorts. He is a tall,
erect man, whose white hair belies his relative youth.
The man moves purposefully toward a large farmhouse some
two hundred yards away. Absalom greets some
people in passing, as they are making their way from the
house toward the area he came from. It is
obvious he does not have time to waste in
conversation. He enters the house, climbing
the stairs and entering a bedroom where another man sits
beside a bed upon which a young woman sleeps.
The woman is the badly beaten Teresa Hoese. The man
tending her has assumed his normal
form. Mulder and Scully would have recognized
him as Jeremiah Smith, the shape-shifting healer.
"We were almost too late," Jeremiah says to the
man who has just entered the room. He appears
to be concentrating as he lays his hand upon Teresa's
forehead.
Absalom looks on in wonder as the minutes pass and the
healer works. Jeremiahs expression is
one of determination and devotion. When he
finally removes his hand, the noticeable scars on
Teresas body have disappeared. She now appears to
be a perfectly healthy woman sleeping peacefully.
Jeremiah looks to the other man, who smiles at him with
tears in his eyes.
Deaconness Medical Center
2:50pm
Scully walks down the corridor of the hospital and pauses
outside a room, glancing inside. Inside, Agent
Reyes is studying x-ray films.
"Oh hi," Reyes says as Scully enters the room.
"I thought you'd be out combing the hills with Agent
Doggett," Scully says, a trace of sarcasm in her
tone.
Reyes is not to be drawn out,
however. "I'm on my way out to see
him. I was curious about the films on this
woman's injuries Teresa
Hoese."
"Is there anything in particular that you're looking
for, Agent Reyes?" Scully asks, as she closes the
door.
Reyes answer, delivered with little fanfare, shocks
Scully. "Implants, or signs of
them."
Scullys face shows her puzzlement.
Reyes smiles in reply. "Have I surprised
you?"
"No. No. I'm just not used to
discussing this sort of thing without having to resort to
a code which prevents others from thinking I'm
crazy."
"Metallic implants. Placed in the body,
oftentimes in the nasal cavity. Sometimes made of bone or
cartilage, making detection a little more
difficult," Reyes explains. "I've
seen them before."
Scully arches an eyebrow. "You've worked
with abductees?"
"Not often. Ninety times out of a
hundred, a case of satanic ritual abuse I'm called in to
consult on ends up being kids doing drugs and their
parents unable to deal with that fact. Nine
times out of a hundred, the case is
cult-related. Then, there's that one remaining
case."
"Then you do believe in extraterrestrials?"
"I'm not a disbeliever," Reyes
insists. She smiles slightly at
Scully. "More often then not, I'm
inclined to think it's trauma-induced
confabulation. But sometimes the physical
evidence points to something else. Whether
it's done by man or EBE's, I couldn't
say. I've never seen an alien, and that makes
it hard to really believe in them."
Scully chuckles. "Yeah, well I have and
it still was hard to believe." She pauses
for a moment. "What is it you specialize
in again? Ritualistic crime?"
"Right." Reyes
affirms. "Satanic ritual
abuse. Or, I should say claims of
it. We never found any hard
evidence. Cults, yes. Satanic
cults, no. More often than not, they're Judeo-Christian
in nature. A Jim Jones, David Koresh sort of
thing. Not that I don't believe in
it. I was something of a black sheep in the
New Orleans field office. . . because of my
beliefs."
Scully snorts. "You and Mulder
would get along just fine."
Reyes smiles softly. "Well, I hope I have
the chance to find out. Now, I have to meet
Agent Doggett."
Scully nods, taking the x-rays from Reyes and tucking
them back in the large envelope.
"Agent Scully?" She turns as Reyes
calls her name from the doorway. "I know
you're afraid. I understand
that. I've seen it before, as has
John. But fear's not going to help you find
him or anyone else. Don't shut everyone out
just because you're scared."
Scully nods solemnly, her mouth tight. As
Reyes leaves and the door closes behind her, Scully's
face turns darker, more distraught. Her fear
is evident through the despair in her eyes.
10:55pm
Reyes drives down a deserted highway at
night. She's alone, nervous, repeatedly
looking at the pack of Morley Lights on the seat beside
her. She tries to resist the temptation, but
cannot, and finally she takes a cigarette and puts it in
her mouth.
Suddenly, without warning, the dashboard lights go dark,
and the car dies at 10:55 p.m. She looks to
the sky and sees a bright light traveling through the
night sky at an extraordinary speed. The car starts up,
the clock now reading 11.04 p.m. In shock and
total bewilderment, she removes the cigarette from her
mouth, staring toward the light.
"No way." She is a mixture of
childlike giddiness and uncertainty. Agent
Reyes quickly turns the car around and follows the
light. Ahead of her, the light nears the
ground, then disappears.
Reyes spots a pick-up truck stopping in the area the
light had been. Two men get out, and
kneel beside something dark on the snow.
Registering what they are doing, that they have a body,
Reyes pulls up about 100 yards from the men
and runs at them, gun drawn. She shouts,
"Stop there! Im a federal
agent!"
One of the men immediately sprints for the pickup
truck. The other hesitates, arm outstretched;
for an instant, Reyes could swear she sees *something*
pass from him to the person on the
ground. Then its over. Before
she can stop them, both men are back in their truck
driving away.
License plate memorized, Reyes lets them leave, intent on
the figure sprawled limply before
her. Cautiously, she turns the body so she can
see the face in the moonlight. Its a
young man, barely out of his teens. Hes
not breathing.
Deaconness Medical Center
9:30am
13th December
The hospital waiting room is quiet. Doggett
and Reyes sit opposite one another on uncomfortable
chairs, Doggett leafing idly through a magazine.
"I don't know how she's doing it in there. With
everything she's feeling. What she's afraid
of." Doggett puts the magazine to one
side with a sigh.
"You know all too well."
"Let's leave the past in the past." Doggett is
defensive, but Reyes continues.
"It was your fear, too. Those three days we looked
for your son. The fear of finding what we
did. I understand. That's why you're so
determined to find Mulder alive."
"It's why I can't stand here and listen to all this
mumbo-jumbo about spaceships." He says
matter-of-factly.
"I saw what I saw, John. I'm not going to lie to
you. But whatever it was, it led to this. It's the man I
saw in the field." Reyes brings out a
photograph of a white-haired man. "He
goes by the name Absalom. A religious zealot who escaped
a shoot-out in Idaho. Where he was the nominal leader of
a doomsday cult who believed aliens would take over the
world at the millennium. Disgraced when they didn't, he
fled and tried a more ecumenical scam: credit card
fraud. I ran the plate on the
truck. It's registered to a farm about an hour
south of here."
Doggett pauses for a moment, then nods
grimly. "Let's check it out."
10:02 a.m.
Scully looks at the young man laid out before her on the
slab. She has done many autopsies, but this
one is a little close to home.
She gathers her thoughts and speaks into the tape
recorder. "Examination of victim, Gary
Edward Cory, reveals cuts and abrasions from ligature or
binding devices, accompanied by distal and proximal
bruising radiating in a symmetrical pattern around the
ankles, the wrists," her voice begins to
falter "and the face."
She is interrupted by a policeman entering the
examination room, accompanied by
Richie. Richie stares at the body in horror,
his nightmare come true. "Oh, my God,
Gary," is all he can breathe.
Scully looks at him, sympathy and empathy coloring her
voice. "You can go now,
Richie. They just need you to sign a
form." Richie looks at her silently, then
back at his friend, before stumbling out of the room.
Scullys eyes prick with tears as she watches him
leave, imagining herself in his place afraid that
soon she will be.
Turning on the tape recorder, she tries to continue the
external examination, but her mind is
elsewhere. "Victim displays .
. . Victim . . . " Her
voice trails off. Her assistant looks at her
with concern. "Doctor Scully?"
"Yes?"
"Are you all right?"
"Im fine. I just. . .
. Could you give me a minute here?"
"Sure." The young woman indicates
the door to the adjoining
washroom. "Ill be in there."
Scully takes off her gloves and goggles and pushes open
the door to the hallway. Richie is still
there, sitting on the floor against the opposite
wall. Scully slides down to sit beside
him. "Im sorry," she says.
He nods, almost imperceptibly. "I was so
sure," he says. " So sure Id
find him. You know? I was just on
my way to check out a report of lights in the sky south
of here .... I guess theres no point,
now."
"Lights?"
"On the police scanner," Richie
clarifies. "Someone reported a blue light
...." His voice
clears. "Do you think it might be Agent
Mulder?"
Scully is suddenly on her feet. "I need
to check."
"Doctor Scully?" Its an
orderly, young and heavyset. "Im
sorry to interrupt. I was told to inform you
that you have a visitor in the cafeteria."
"Well, who is it?" she asks. "I
dont have time "
"I didnt get his name. Tall guy,
brown hair. He said youd know him."
Scullys eyes widen, and a slow breath trickles from
her lips. She looks at the orderly in
confusion and disbelief, her lips pressed in a tight
line. With each step, her pace increases, and
she hits the stairs at a jog.
10.10 a.m.
Reyes walks beside Doggett as they make their way to the
hospital parking garage. Doggett opens his
door and settles into the seat, but something has caught
her attention. Monica squints into the shadows
of the next row of cars over.
"What is it?" Doggett asks, noticing her
attention is elsewhere.
"There's a truck over there. . . I think it's the
one I saw in the field. I can't see the plates
from here, though," she replies, not taking her eyes
off the vehicle in
question. "There's someone in the
driver's seat. You call it in, I'm going to
see if it's
"
Her voice trails off as the driver turns his head to look
out the window. He sees her at the same moment
she gets a look at his face. "It's
him!" she yells, breaking into a run as she reaches
for her weapon.
Tires squeal as the long-haired man throws the truck into
reverse and punches the gas. It swings out
onto the paved ramp and peels out just as she reaches it,
her hands just missing the back bumper. She
attempts futilely to run after it, but it gains distance
from her, careening around the corner to tear up the row
her car is parked in. Doggett has gotten out
of the car and pulls his weapon, but the driver doesn't
see him and he's forced to jump out of the way of the
speeding truck.
Cursing, Reyes jumps off the deck of the garage onto the
level below, tumbling and crying out as she lands
badly. She regains her feet and moves slowly
to the middle of the aisle. She aims her gun
at the truck, shouting at the top of her voice
"FREEZE! FBI!" and aims her gun
squarely at the windshield. When the truck
doesn't stop, she fires a single shot. The
windshield shatters and the truck screeches to a
halt. A moment later, a pair of hands are
lifted into view.
"Get out of the car!" she yells, hearing the
sound of Doggett's footfalls behind her. A
moment later, a tall long-haired man emerges from the
truck.
10.13 a.m.
Scully slows her pace to a fast walk as she approaches
the waiting room. It is full of couches and chairs, and
tables strewn with tattered magazines. It is
also totally empty. She turns a slow,
bewildered circle, looking in every direction for which
way anyone waiting for her might have
gone. Her forehead creases in consternation
and unhappiness.
"Scully?" She whirls when she hears
her name spoken, finding Skinner approaching her from the
entrance of the cafeteria. "Have you
finished already? What did you find?"
"No, I was told someone was Gary!" she
gasps, in sudden realization. She breaks into a sprint,
heading back to the autopsy bay. She notices
Skinner's footsteps behind her, echoing down the flights
of stairs, then the long empty basement
hall. She bursts through the doors to find the
autopsy bay empty and Gary's body on the tray right where
she had left it. She breathes heavily, winded
from her sprint and nervousness. She walks into the
washroom, startling her assistant.
"Did you see anyone come into the autopsy bay while
I was gone? Hear anyone?"
The young womans eyes widen when Scully pulls her
gun out of her locker.
"No, just .... Just me. Did
something happen?"
"I dont know yet." Scully
rejoins Skinner.
"I checked all the nearby rooms. There's
no one here," Skinner tells her.
"Well someone was here! Someone told
me
"
"Told you what?
"Nothing." She shakes her head
abruptly, her expression tense. She turns away
from Skinner, not wanting him to see the moisture
collecting in her eyes.
When she looks back at him, he isn't looking at
her. His eyes are glued to the autopsy slab
where Gary's body awaits examination.
Scully turns to see what has Skinner so
mesmerized. "Oh my God!" she
exclaims, her eyes becoming large and round.
Gary lies with his head turned toward them, eyes open,
blinking, uncomprehending. "Where am
I?" he rasps.
Sheriff's Office
1.45 p.m.
"I'm telling you the truth. I only want
to help those people." Absalom insists.
"Then tell me where Teresa Hoese is. We
had the local police search your farm; she's not
there. She has a family who loves her and
misses her, a child who needs her. Tell me how
to get her back to them," Scully pleads.
"I can't," he murmurs
regretfully. "There's too much at
stake. Too many lives at risk."
Scully moves closer to him, whispering
desperately. "I asked you to give me the
truth." She removes a folded piece of
paper from her pocket. She raises it for
Absalom to see. "Have you seen this
man? Have you helped him?" she asks, her
voice breaking. She hands him the paper, a
copy of Mulder's ID photo. He looks at it for
several seconds before firmly shaking his head.
"I'm sorry. No."
Scully's eyes fill with tears.
Doggett watches her, then leaves the interrogation room,
joining Skinner and Reyes where they stand outside the
one-way window.
"I want to know what he's
hiding." Skinner speaks more to himself
than the others.
"Yeah," Reyes replies. "Me,
too."
"Nothing turned up on his farm?" Doggett
wonders.
"No." Skinner shakes his
head. "Not a damn thing."
"And the ... lights in the
sky?" Doggett sounds almost embarrassed
even to ask the question.
Skinner sighs. "Local drunk seeing stars
in the daytime."
"Nothing might have come up at the farm," Reyes
tells the men, "but we found something on the
hospital surveillance video from the morgue."
2.30 p.m.
Scully gasps as she watches the tape of the corridor
outside the morgue. The doors to the autopsy bay swing
open, and a man exits. "That
man. I know that man."
Reyes glances at
her. "Good. Here he is again
on the elevator up from the basement level of the
hospital," she gestures to another screen
with images from another camera "and again in
the lobby heading out the front doors."
"Who is he?" Skinner asks.
"His name is Jeremiah Smith," Scully
explains. "Agent Mulder knew
him. He believed that he had the ability to
heal people."
Doggett looks up. "What do you mean, heal
people?"
"Like he did Gary Cory. And maybe Teresa
Hoese. Maybe he's what Absalom's talking
about. But where the hell could he have taken her?"
"I don't know," Scully says briskly, turning
from the screen. "But right now, the only
place we know he could have gone is the
farm. We have to get out there."
3.50 p.m.
Absalom's Farm
They pull up behind a row of local police cars in the
driveway of the old farmhouse. The lowering
sun glares off the churned-up snow "Home sweet home,
Absalom," says Doggett. The former cult
leader, handcuffed between Scully and Reyes in the back
seat, grimaces.
"You two take the barn and the woods," Skinner
instructs Doggett and Reyes. "Well
check in with the locals." The two agents
nod, and head for the barn in the
distance. Scully and Skinner take Absalom to
the house.
"Find anything yet?" Skinner addresses the man
in Sheriffs uniform in the living room.
The Sheriff indicates Absalom. "That the
homeowner?"
Skinner nods, while Scully maneuvers the man to a
straight-backed wooden chair and sits him
down. The Sheriff
shrugs. "Nope, we just got back out here
ourselves." He waves a hand in the
general direction of the woods. "We
checked the house pretty thoroughly the last time, so I
sent my men to go poke around the woods, see if they turn
anything up."
"I think Ill go join them," Skinner
says. He addresses
Scully. "You have everything under
control in here?"
Scully closes the handcuffs around a chair rail and nods,
not looking at him. Absaloms gaze is
reproving.
Skinner sighs, and goes outside.
4:08 p.m.
Doggett picks his way through the woods north of the
barn, moving carefully in the gathering
twilight. The snow here is soft from a recent
thaw, pitted by fallen twigs and slumped into bowls
around the dark trunks of the conifers. Ahead
of him, he hears the snap of a fallen branch.
"Whos there?" he calls, then immediately
curses himself for giving his position
away. As rapidly as possible, he moves toward
the noise.
4:11 p.m.
"How did you meet Jeremiah Smith?"
"I dont know anyone by that
name." Absalom makes himself as
comfortable as possible in his chair, and meets her gaze.
Scully eyes him, disbelieving. With a glance
to the Sheriff, who is looking out a window across the
room, she asks quietly, "Did he heal Gary Cory and
Teresa Hoese?"
"You dont understand," Absalom begins.
"Then help me. Where is he now?"
The door opens, and Reyes enters. "We
found Teresa Hoese," she says without
preamble. "In an old bomb shelter out
behind the barn."
4:12 p.m.
The first thing Doggett sees is the bottoms of a pair of
size nine and a half Nikes. He steps around
the row of young trees and trains his gun on their owner.
The man is kneeling in the snow, facing away from him,
hands outstretched over
"FBI!" Doggett shouts. "Get
away from the body and put your hands up!"
The mans hands drop to his sides, but he does not
otherwise move. "Youre going to
expose me," he
says. "Youre putting people in
danger abductees all over the country."
"Hands up," says Doggett.
Slowly, the mans hands
rise. "Youre making a
mistake," he says. "Im the
only one who can save them."
Doggett seizes the mans hands and cuffs
him. "Tell it to Agent Scully," he
mutters. With the man Jeremiah Smith
safely handcuffed, Doggett finally dares to take a
close look at the body on the ground.
After a moment, he turns away again, eyes shut, hands on
his hips. "Damn."
4:38 p.m.
There is a sudden commotion outside the
farmhouse. Scully looks up from where she has
been pacing the floor, unable to convince Absalom to
talk. The door of the farmhouse crashes open,
and Jeremiah Smith is propelled
inside. Skinner follows, looking grim.
Scullys eyes lock on the
healer. "Wheres Mulder?" she
asks softly, her voice strained with anxiety and hope.
"I was trying to help him," he replies equally
softly. "You came crashing in here
..."
Scullys eyes rise to meet those of her
superior. "Mulder?" she asks.
Skinners eyes slide down and
away. "Scully ..."
She bolts from the house.
Outside, it is approaching full dark, the sky an
impossible indigo blue, dotted with pinpricks of
stars. Flashlight beams shine from the
woods. She follows them. Skinner follows her.
In the clearing, Agent Doggett drapes a blanket, almost
tenderly, over a still figure on the ground. He rises to
intercept Scully before she can come near.
"How bad is he?" she shouts, trying in vain to
pull away from Doggett. "How bad is
he? How bad is he hurt?"
"Agent Scully, please don't
"
She doesn't hear him. Her eyes are riveted on
the form lying wrapped in a blanket in the
snow. She isn't aware that she's punching
Doggett on the chest to force him to release
her. She approaches the body, her knees wobbly
with trepidation.
She moves slowly toward him, whispering 'No' repeatedly
to herself. She falls to the ground beside
him, grasping his face, her cries of denial increasing in
volume.
Agent Reyes and Skinner look on in silence, paralyzed by
the sight before them. It almost seems as if
she's trying to awaken him with her soft pleas, calling
his name, unaware of the tears falling from her
eyes. She runs her hands frantically over his
face and cold flesh as though seeking to bring him back
by touch alone.
Agent Doggett moves to stand behind her, gently helping
her up from her kneeling position. It's on her
ascent that she notices the glimmer of gold. A sob
escapes before she can stifle it, and Scully is once
again on the ground beside her fallen
partner. It breaks her to see him in this
condition, battered, tortured, nude, yet still her
necklace hangs around his neck. She tugs
lightly on the thin metal, finding the cross dangling
over his left shoulder.
"He needs help," she yells. "He
needs help." She suddenly remembers where
help can be found.
"Agent Scully, its too
late." The voice is gentle as Doggett
tries to hold on to her, but with a strength born of
sheer adrenaline she fights him off and runs quickly back
the way she came. Back to find help.
She runs for what seems like hours, although in actuality
it is only seconds, back toward the house. But
as she nears the farmyard, the night air becomes suddenly
bright. She looks up to see the
unbelievable. A spaceship hovers just
above. Her eyes are turned heavenward in
astonishment, but she runs on. Inside that
house is her only hope of saving Mulder; she has to get
to him before they do.
The light fades as she enters the house. In
the dimness of a single lamp, she sees the Sheriff on his
knees beside the couch, shaking, staring blank-faced at
the ceiling. Absalom is still handcuffed to
his chair. Their eyes meet, and he
nods. "Youre too late," he
tells her, with a hint of malice in his
voice. "Hes gone."
Hes gone. In a daze, Scully wanders back
to the door. "No, please, no," she
begs, tears streaming down her face. She sinks
to her knees with a wordless cry of anguish.
5:32 p.m.
Scully doesn't know how much time has passed since she
returned to the house. She sits on the chair
Absalom had used. Someone has wrapped a
blanket around her. Skinner hovers
protectively, Doggett not far from him. Reyes
has taken the initiative of contacting the state
coroner. There are more police cars and
ambulances outside that she doesn't remember pulling up.
She remains immobile and unspeaking until some instinct
compels her to lift her head and look out the
window. Teresa Hoese sits inside one
ambulance, attended by paramedics who check her for
injury and exposure. In another, however, a
gurney is being lifted inside. A black body
bag rests atop it.
"We need to do an autopsy," she says woodenly.
Skinner nods slowly. "Uh,
yeah. We've got the state coroner on
it. Scully..."
But her tone is
sharp. "No. I've got to do
it. I'm GOING to do it." Her
voice softens, to barely above a
whisper. "He wouldn't trust anyone
else."
Skinner's voice registers shock. "No,
Scully. No." The tone comes
out sharper than he intends. "I won't let
an agent under my supervision autopsy her partner, much
less..." His voice trails off
meaningfully. "The answer is no."
Tears prick at her eyes. "Please,"
she begs. "It's the last thing I can ever
do for him."
The man beside her heaves a big sigh. He knows
she won't trust anyone else to do it, but he still won't
let her. He makes a compromise that isn't much
of a compromise at all, but the best she'll
accept. "You can be
there." The man is defeated.
Deaconness Medical Center
14th December
9:02am
Joseph Hargreaves, the local county coroner, takes up the
scalpel. He talks into his tape recorder, the
words as familiar to Scully as a nursery
rhyme. Words she had said hundreds of times
herself. "Fox William
Mulder. Caucasian male, 39 years
old. Ill begin with the Y
incision."
Scully cant take her eyes of the
scalpel. With a horrible fascination she
watches it make the first cut, dragged down his
body. Angry tears prick at her eyes again, and
furiously she fights them back. But its
too much for her. Shes seen bodies,
dealt with them, on numerous occasions. But
not her lover. Not her partner. She
looks at his eyes, wishing she could meet his gaze one
more time. There was still so much she had to
say.
Finally her own body begins to sag, her eyes begin to
close. Her heartbeat pounds sonorously in her own ears,
drowning out all other sound. The voices of
the coroner and his assistant reach her as though across
a great chasm, faint and echoing. A buzzing
fills her head as the blood leaves her brain, and she
sinks to the floor. The coroner's assistant
gasps, drawing his superior's attention to where she has
fallen. The coroner shouts, and Skinner
charges into the room. He curses himself and
her under his breath, picking her up while shouting for a
gurney. Within moments, she is being taken up
to the emergency room for observation.
9:10 a.m.
The coroner picks up the scalpel again, preparing to
deepen the Y-incision he had started before Agent
Scullys collapse.
"Hold it!" The doors to the autopsy
bay swing open again, and a man in an FBI jacket charges
in. The coroner once more removes his scalpel and rolls
his eyes impatiently. "What is it
now?"
"There's been a change of plans. The victim's family
is protesting the autopsy on religious grounds."
"But we've already started!" the assistant
protests.
"Too bad," The agent shakes his head. "Sew
him back up. No autopsy, no embalming, or the
government's going to be footing the bill on a helluva
lawsuit." The agent strides out and the
coroner gives his assistant another weary look.
"See? This is what happens whenever the
Feds show up."
"So what do we do now?"
"Do what the man says. Sew him up."
Out in the corridor, Agent Crane pauses as the morgue
doors swing shut behind him, pulling out his cell
phone. He hits the speed-dial and waits for a
voice on the other end to answer. He only
speaks two words.
"It's done."
Briar Dene Hotel
7:20 p.m.
Scully sits quietly in her hotel room. Beside
her on the bureau, the soup Skinner brought her is
cooling, untouched. A knock on the door makes
her jump.
Agent Crane is outside in the cold, fingers clutched
around a thick sheaf of papers. At her
questioning look, he says, "Autopsy
report. A.D. Skinner said youd want to
take a look at it."
"Thank you." She closes the door on
her colleague, takes the copied sheets over to the bed,
and spreads them out.
"Evidence of exposure," she
reads. "External and internal
bleeding." "Heart
failure." On the last page, she finds an
appended note. "No evidence of cerebral
trauma found."
Scully buries her face in her hands.
Blakely Funeral Home
18th December
2:30pm
Scully, standing at the front of the small room, looks
out over the gathered mourners. The small
collection of chairs is nearly full. Skinner
sits toward the front, his posture weary and
defeated. Frohike is beside him, hunched over
as though in physical pain. His eyes and nose
are red. Byers pats him on the back
comfortingly and Langly tries his best to remain stoic,
despite the occasional hard and painful way his Adam's
apple bobs when he swallows.
Her mother sits off to one side, her eyes solemn and
encouraging when they meet Scully's. Part of
her wants to curl up in her mother's lap and hide from
the pain as she did when she was little.
Agent Doggett sits further back, his normally impassive
face registering his own sense of loss, if for no other
reason than for her sake. Agent Reyes is
beside him, composed, but moved by the grief around
her. Deputy Director Kersh sits toward the
rear, and though he is far too decorous to be anything
other than completely solemn, neither does Scully detect
he's here to mourn.
Other acquaintances of Mulder's Chuck Burkes,
Danny, lab assistants, basketball buddies from the Y
fill the rest of the chairs.
She begins to speak. "When I stepped into
that basement office eight years ago, I had no idea of
the journey that would be before us. I had no
conception of the way you would challenge my beliefs and
force me to look beyond what I now know to be the limited
boundaries of science."
And in her minds eye she can see it as if it were
yesterday. Knocking on the door,
nobody here but the FBIs most unwanted
shaking his hand. Flinging
herself into his arms only days later in sheer relief
that she had mere mosquito bites.
"Mulder, since that day we have been through so much
together. Not all of it was good we
both had to deal with some difficult times."
Her sister shot, his father shot. Lying in a
hospital bed dying of cancer. Holding Mulder
as he came to terms with his mothers
suicide. Together. Always together.
"But although it was hard, even frightening at
times, I wouldnt have changed a day. For
almost eight years I was privileged to share your search
for the truth. Now you have left to continue
the journey alone. I hope and pray, Mulder, that you have
found the answers you sought in life."
And now her voice fails her, begins to break, as she
gazes at the coffin one last time; and her next words are
almost a whisper.
"Ill miss you
partner. Goodbye."
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