From: Mezzo4@aol.com
Date: Mon, 28 Sep 1998 00:53:33 EDT
Subject: Desideratum I: Lost (6/11) R. Anton and L. Blaurosen
TITLE: Desideratum I : Lost (6/11)
AUTHORS: Rachel Anton and Laura Blaurosen
E-MAIL: RaValliano@aol.com and Mezzo4@aol.com
DISCLAIMER: We don't own Mulder, Scully, Skinner, Bill and
Maggie Scully, or the concept of Charles Scully. All the
other characters are ours though :).
SUMMARY: How far is too far to go in the name of love?
All other items in part one.
Desideratum I: Lost
by Rachel Anton and Laura Blaurosen
part 6/11
He was holding her. Thank God. He was holding her
again. He was wrapped tight around her, spooning her from
behind. Skin against skin, so close she felt like a part of
him. They were in a large bed with white sheets and puffy
pillows. There were plants everywhere.
"Scully", he sighed into her neck and squeezed her
impossibly tighter. "Scully this is so good. I've wanted this
for so long." She was silent but he knew, just knew that she
felt the same.
"So good. It's so good." He kept whispering against her
neck over and over. He couldn't think of anything else. He
moved his hand up to cup her breast and pressed himself
harder against her. The warm, soft skin of her backside
provided a perfect cradle for his burning erection. So
perfect. It was all so perfect.
He heard water splashing around and looked over her
shoulder. There was a fountain in front of her in the shape
of a lion. Water flowed from its mouth and ran in puddles
over the hard wood floor. He watched the water, for a
moment entranced.
She shuddered in his arms and made a strange stifled
sound.
He couldn't tell if it was pleasure or pain. Panic gripped him
and he realized he was doing it again. She didn't want him.
He had been totally wrong. Why did he keep making the
same stupid mistake?
Then he saw the water turn from a clear, bubbling pool to
a crimson sea. Blood was running from the side of the bed
into the water.
"Scully? What is it? What's happening?"
She turned in his arms. Her face was completely disfigured,
burned almost beyond recognition. Except for her eyes. He
recognized her eyes. And they were full of terror.
"Mulder, take me home. I want to go home."
Mulder jerked awake. He was terrified for a moment and
then relieved when he realized it had only been a dream
and not reality. And then horrified when he realized what
reality was.
All he was aware of for a moment was the pain. Shooting,
unbearable pain in his entire arm and shoulder. He felt
nauseous and confused. He tried to sit up and realized he
was lying in glass, that it was cutting into his back and
legs. He stood up and swayed on his feet.
He looked around the room and vague memories of the
night before came to him. He looked down at his arm. It
was covered in drying, crusty blood. It was already getting
infected. He realized that he was lucky to have lived
through the night. Of course lucky was all a matter of
perspective. At this point he might as well be dead.
She left. That was no nightmare. That was his reality.
But for some reason, no matter how he tried to convince
himself of this fact, to remind himself of the truth of his
situation, it just wouldn't sit. Something didn't seem right
about it in the light of day. Something about that dream...it
had been so vivid. He'd felt it so intensely. He touched his
face to check for scars. There was nothing there.
Pain shot through his arm in an even more intense bolt and
he thought he would faint from it. He needed to take care
of it. He needed to clean and dress it and start thinking.
Really thinking, not just reacting from visceral fear.
As he was heading to the bathroom to do just that, he
heard his telephone ringing. Unfortunately he had no idea
where it was. He scanned the damage and eventually
spotted it peaking out from under his frying pan. The state
of disarray his place was in was almost laughable.
"Yeah?" He answered, somewhat annoyed by the
interruption. God knew there wasn't a soul alive he wanted
to talk to at the moment. Not one who was likely to be
calling anyway.
"Mister Mulder?"
"Yeah."
"Hi. This is Charles Scully, Dana's brother." Oh God. Oh
no. He hadn't even thought about her family. Hadn't even
considered what telling them about the letter was going to
be like.
The letter. God, the letter. He sat at the desk and pulled
the hateful thing from the drawer he'd placed it in. He was
struck by the strange need to read it yet again. It was next
to the one picture he had of her. It was a shot he'd snapped
on a stakeout as she'd slept. Yet another violation. But he
hadn't been able to resist. He ran his finger down the image
of her face. Thank God he hadn't shredded it in his fit last
night.
"Um, hi."
"I was just wondering if you'd gotten any leads about
Dana."
"Ugh..." He didn't want to do this over the telephone. He
didn't want to do it at all. He glanced at the letter as he
hesitated. One word jumped out at him. Manipulate.
You've always been able to manipulate me. Manipulate...
"I was wondering because...well, actually I was wondering
if maybe we could meet to talk about this. I'm on leave for
the next month and I'm gonna be staying here in DC. I
was kind of wondering if I could do anything to help?"
Manipulate. Manipulate. Something about that was
just...wrong. He looked at the picture of her sweet angelic
face, trying to imagine the words coming from her mouth,
her mind.
"Mister Mulder?"
"Huh?"
"I was asking you if we could meet somewhere, if we could
talk about this..."
"Oh, oh yeah." Scully's brother wanted to meet him. A
sudden vision popped into his brain of being shot in the
head by the other man. He hadn't had much luck with the
other Scully brother and this situation was bound to foster
animosity.
But still, her family needed to know what he knew as soon
as possible. Or what he might know. Things were
suddenly starting to seem much less certain.
"Yeah sure. Did you want to do that today?"
"Today would be great. Say an hour?" Mulder looked
down at his arm again. It was going to take a lot of work.
"Give me two."
xxxxxx
The room was very, very quiet. Scully thought she had
fallen asleep after Jane's little fit, but she couldn't be
absolutely sure. She couldn't be sure about anything
anymore. She looked around the room for the millionth time
for a clock and again did not find one.
It was dark outside, and she had no idea what time it was or
what day. Two days or an entire month could have passed
since she'd seen her own house, but she had no way of
figuring out which. She tried to recount the events which
had occurred since Jane had taken her away, hoping that it
would give her some semblance of a time frame. Did she
write that letter last night? But then when was it that she
was shoved into the wardrobe? And when was it that she'd
brought her those stale triscuits? Was that before or after
the letter? When had Jane brought her water last? How
many days had passed since she'd heard Mulder's voice in
the apartment?
Or had that been in her head, too?
The concentration this feat was taking began to make her
nauseous and she had to close her eyes. "Ahh...!" She
cried suddenly, feeling that shooting pain in her arm again.
She then realized that her body still had not ceased shaking.
She was sweaty and freezing and frightened.
The door flew open and Scully jumped, her eyes wide when
she saw Jane. And the knife Jane was holding. Oh my
God, what was she going to do to her?
Scully saw the madness in Jane's look and shook her head.
"No," she said to her.
But Jane nodded slowly and smiled menacingly at her.
"Yes," she said back and pinned Scully flat to the bed again
with one knee. Then she drew the knife down quickly
toward Scully's face.
Scully choked once and held her breath. Jane had stopped,
just short of her face. She opened her eyes. Jane was
hunched over her still, laughing quietly through her nose at
her. "Scared ya, didn't I?"
Scully let out the breath she'd been holding. That's when
she felt it. The knife poking into her skin at the temple.
Jane's voice seemed more amplified than ever. "We're just
going to make a few minor adjustments."
"Ahhh!" Scully cried when she felt Jane run the blade down
her cheek.
"Oooh, that's pretty. Pretty little scar down your pretty..."
she moved the knife to her other cheek, "little face."
"Stop," Scully tried to scream, but it came out like a
whisper.
"Uh-huh, we're not done here yet." Scully felt another
scrape along her face and then another. Her face burned as
tears rolled into the scars. She held her breath again and
winced with every new gash. She kept her eyes shut and
tried desperately to will Jane away.
"Oh, goodness, we're not so pretty anymore, are we? What
have I done? Little scars all over. I don't think you'll be
able to call it flawless anymore, that goddam perfect
complexion, huh? Don't think they're the kind of scars that
will heal, either, but," she stopped and viewed Scully. She
seemed to be considering something.
Jane rose from the bed and Scully let out a huge breath.
Slowly she let her body relax again, but not completely.
She just laid there and waited for Jane to return. It was
inevitable that she would and all Scully could do was be
prepared for it.
She could feel the blood dripping down her face. It felt like
a fiery liquid, searing the scars Jane had given her in place,
altering her appearance forever.
'Scully, you're so beautiful.'
She started to whimper.
'Your face, Scully, it's perfect. Flawless. I love it.'
Not anymore Mulder. Not anymore. She's taking it away.
She's taken it away from me. From you. I'm sorry Mulder.
I'm so, so sorry.
Out of nowhere, Jane appeared before her again. "Let's
make sure this takes," she said before splashing some sort
of
liquid in her face. It felt cool at first. Water? She prayed it
was so. Then it started to burn. She was terrified to open
her eyes. She tried to recognize the smell, but all she
smelled was her sweat and blood. What had it been?
"It's hydrofluoric acid in case you're wondering. Stings like
hell, huh?"
It did sting. Everywhere. She was afraid to open her
mouth, for fear it spilled into her mouth and burn her throat.
She wanted to touch her face, bring it some kind of relief.
She wiped her face on the pillow she lay on. Oh God, what
if she was wiping her skin right off?
"Doesn't sting as much as being rejected, though," Jane had
Scully by the hair and was screaming in her ear. "But you
wouldn't have ANY idea about that would you. Little miss
perfect has always had it best. Everybody loved pretty little
Dana, didn't they? Well, you're gonna find out; you're
gonna find out when they look at you and see the
monstrosity you've become."
She broke off with a laugh. A full bellied, wicked laugh that
seemed to ring through the whole apartment.
Oh, Mulder, I want to go home. Please come and take me
home.
xxxxxx
Scully felt warm and comfortable. There was a gentle, soft
pressure near her ear. She smiled as a tingling sensation
flooded her body. She heard a voice, speaking low into her
hear, "Mmmm...do you know how long I've wanted to do
this?"
It was Mulder. He had his arms wrapped around her waist
and was pressing her down into the bed. She felt such
relief. She felt no pains anymore. Me, too, me, too,
Mulder, she spoke, but in her head rather than out loud.
She tried to say it again. And again. She was opening her
mouth, but couldn't manage to make any sounds.
She remembered she needed to tell him something about
her, something she needed him to do for her. What was it?
She was supposed to be gone from this place, needed to be
gone, but never wanted to give up this feeling she had right
at this moment. Mulder, hold me, hold me, she tried to
speak again, but still no words came.
He spoke again, "So, so long," then moved his lips down
her neck. "So good," he was whispering over and over.
"Just wonderful."
"Mulder," she finally spoke to him. "I want this, too, but,"
she was afraid to say anymore, she didn't want him to get
startled and have him leave. "But you need to take me
away first. Help me, Mulder. Save me, Mulder."
He said nothing in response to her pleas, as though he'd
been unaware she'd even spoken to him. He moved his
hands to her breasts, which she realized now were naked,
as
was the rest of her body. Mulder, who was fully clothed,
continued his assault on her body. Scully felt herself
burning up and a familiar ache calling to her from below, the
ache that made her cry herself to sleep many nights with
wanting resolution. Wanting him. Wanting completion.
Acknowledgment.
She had a sudden flash of courage. "Mulder, I love you,
love you so much," she said with a teary voice.
"I love you too, Jane."
Scully was struck awake, looking for Mulder.
Remembering where she was and then remembering her
dream, she cried. She felt like she'd been asleep for days
and it very well may have been.
Where the hell was he? Had he really believed that stupid,
stupid letter? Was he going on with his life, having months
ago given up on finding her? Had Jane accomplished what
she'd set out to do?
She felt the scars on her face, dried up with scabbing and
blood. It was numb and itched like hell, but she was afraid
to even rub her face on the pillow anymore. She tried to
imagine what she looked like based upon how her face felt.
She'd seen burn victims before, autopsied them, performed
emergency surgeries on them. Red and blistery, perhaps
bubbled skin from whatever acidic base or heat they'd been
exposed to. She heard the words of the reconstructive
surgeons: "I will do what I can but there's really nothing
I'll be able to do to restore their faces even remotely close
to the way they looked before."
That was always a sad, unfortunate thing to hear, but
somehow she was able to distance herself, telling herself
that the way that person looked didn't really matter to those
in his life who cared about him and that he would manage to
carry on, a stronger man for the ordeal. They weren't her,
though, those people she'd seen. How was she going to be
able to face Mulder like this, anyhow? It would be just as
well for his sake that she died here like this. If he found her
alive, she'd be nothing. She didn't want Mulder to ever see
her like this. She didn't want anyone to see her like this.
She turned and watched the fountain through the window to
the garden. It seemed so much bigger now. The water ran
down, continuous, giving an aspect of life to the inanimate
object. She watched it, trying to take her mind away from
her pain, from her worries. She could hardly believe such a
beautiful scene, full of life, coexisted in the same place
where she hers was being slowly depleted.
You made me a whole person. Oh God, Mulder, I can't
anymore. I can't. I'm so sorry.
She'd wanted to tell him that night. Tell him that he meant
everything in the world to her, too. Finally say it. Finally
say that she loved him. Too late. She'd waited too long.
Watching the water, she realized her mouth was so very
dry. She coughed, and every muscle and bone in her body
screamed at her. She needed food, needed water. She
prayed that Jane would return soon, despite the horrors
she'd just inflicted upon her. Jane was both her terrifying
captor and last chance at survival. Her only hope to see
Mulder again, to be able to tell him how terribly sorry she
was.
xxxxxx
Wednesday, 1:40 p.m.
Charlie surveyed the smoky bar anxiously. He knew what
Mulder looked like but in the dark all these men in their
suits looked pretty much the same to him. He sat at a booth
near the door, satisfied that he wasn't here yet and ordered
himself a beer.
He was a little nervous about this whole meeting thing even
though he'd been the one to arrange it. What he really
wanted was for Mulder to let him help. He wanted in on
the whole thing. It seemed so insane to him, the way his
entire family relinquished control to this man, just let him
take over the entire situation and not even offer to help, and
then to prattle on endlessly about how he was so horrible
for Dana, how he was always getting her into danger and
leaving her in the lurch. He couldn't understand their
willingness to sit back and let things unfold in this way
without doing a damn thing about it.
He remembered the letters Dana had written him when she
was ill. She'd told him about Bill and mom telling Mulder
not to try putting that chip or whatever it was into her neck
but not offering any other solutions. Just fucking letting her
die without even trying something that might work. It had
angered him beyond belief and he'd started to seriously
consider resigning, if only to be closer to his sister. God
knew she wasn't getting the support she needed from the
rest of the family.
Now she was missing and once again, it seemed they
were all sitting on their asses waiting for the shit to hit the
fan and whining about Mulder.
He heard the door creak shut behind him and turned
around. It was Mulder. Boy, was it ever. He was still in the
same clothes Charlie had seen him in 2 nights ago at
Dana's apartment. His grey T-shirt was stained with
something that looked a hell of a lot like blood and his arm
was wrapped in gauze bandage from his wrist to his elbow.
His hair was greasy and disheveled and it looked like he
hadn't shaved in days.
Mulder spotted him and walked over to the table. Charlie
stood up and held out his hand to shake. Mulder looked
almost shocked at the gesture but he reciprocated. They
sat
down across from each other and Charlie was struck
by the wild look in the other man's eyes. He looked like an
escapee from a mental institution.
"Mister Mulder, I wanted to meet with you because..."
"Just Mulder's fine. Mister Mulder was my father." Charlie
nodded in understanding. He was never Mister Scully.
"Mulder, I wanted to know what I could do to help you find
my sister. I...I need to do something."
"Um...yeah, you mentioned that on the phone..." He looked
away from Charlie and down to his lap. He seemed
extremely nervous and on edge. "See, the thing is, I don't
really know if that's such a great idea."
"Excuse me?" Charlie couldn't believe this. Was everyone
in the world insane? First his fucking family and now
Mulder. All he wanted to do was find his sister.
"I just...I know you're worried and all..."
"Damn right I'm worried. And I'm not willing to sit around
and wait for her to turn up dead. I'm gonna look for her
whether you want my help or not." After all the crap this
guy had been through with his own sister, how could he not
get this?
"I...I know how you feel. Believe me. I just don't know...I
mean, I'm not completely sure if she wants to be found."
He was still avoiding looking directly at Charlie and it was
starting to become obvious that there was something he
wasn't sharing.
"What does that mean? Why would you say something like
that?" Mulder bit down on his lower lip and looked for all
the world like he was about to cry. Charlie felt bad for him
despite his suspicion. God knows he would be a mess if
Rena just disappeared without a trace. He didn't know what
the hell he would do.
"Mulder, what do you mean?"
He reached into his jeans pocket and took out a folded up
piece of paper. He shoved it across the table with a frown.
"I got this yesterday."
Charlie unfolded the paper expecting a ransom note or
some kind of evidence. His eyes widened when he saw his
sister's handwriting. He read the words as Mulder squirmed
uncomfortably across from him. When he was done he
looked at the man in disbelief.
"Mulder..."
"I'm sorry...I didn't..."
"Mulder stop. My sister did not write this."
end part 6
Desideratum I: Lost
by Rachel Anton and Laura Blaurosen
part 7/11
With every sound Scully heard, she jumped. She tried to
just keep awake so that Jane didn't come in and surprise
her. This constantly being on edge was only adding to her
severe exhaustion and that tension only added to the
cramping in her every muscle.
She heard the front door open and slam shut. Her heart
rate increased and her body stiffened. Her mind for a
moment gave her the false hope that it was finally Mulder,
coming to take her away. To keep her safe. She was ready
for that now, to relinquish to him what he'd always wanted to
do for her and the very thing she'd always fought. She
needed that now and now her only hope to live was in a
crazed lunatic. She had no control herself anymore. She
had no power to save herself.
Several minutes passed, however and he never did come
through the door. She closed her eyes and swallowed down
yet more tears. Her throat was sore now and her mouth still
very dry. Inhaling, she smelled something familiar. Food of
some kind. Chow mein noodles, she swore it was. Like
from that place down the street she and Mulder always
ordered from. Chicken with garlic and pepper sauce that
Mulder always picked all of the chicken out of first before
letting her have the carton.
It made Scully's heart light to think of those moments and
remember the pseudo innocent look on Mulder's face,
insisting that he'd only taken a few pieces.
Her mouth watered. The garlic aroma seemed more
deliciously pungent than she'd ever smelled. God, she was
hungry.
The door was thrown open. Scully jerked and her eyes
were opened as wide as possible to view Jane in the
threshold, taking a fork full of noodles and stuffing it into
her mouth. Scully swallowed hard again. At least she
wasn't holding a knife.
"Mmmmm..." Jane said as she chewed. "This is fantastic."
She moved over to the bed and sat in the chair next to it.
"Been a long time since you've eaten, hasn't it, Scully?"
She took another bite. "And it's probably been even longer
since you've tasted something as good as this. I suppose
the princess would like some dinner, wouldn't she?"
Scully shook her head just as her stomach growled. She
was hungry, but she wasn't about to beg for food.
"Not hungry, huh?" Jane laughed when she heard the
rumbling in Scully's stomach. She got up and passed the
carton under Scully's nose. "Are you sure?"
Scully realized she was panting now. She didn't think she'd
ever been so desperate for food in her life.
"Well," Jane said. "I guess I could afford you some of
this."
Relief spilt over her and her body eagerly awaited the
sustenance. Except that Jane left the room. "Where are
you going?" Scully asked frantically but Jane said nothing.
She saw Jane in the garden, hunched over one of the
sections of plants. Scully let out the breath she'd been
holding and felt tears drip down her scarred face. Jane had
tricked her again, viciously .
But then Jane came through the door. Sitting on the edge
of the bed, she dipped the fork into the carton. "Want
some, Scully?"
Scully only looked at Jane, trying to read the woman's face.
"I asked you a question, bitch! Do you want some of this
food or not? Cause if you don't answer me, I'm leaving
right now and you won't ever fucking eat again!"
So Scully nodded.
"What? I didn't hear you? What do you want, Your
Highness?"
Fearing that if she didn't say anything, Jane would leave,
she begged, "Please. I want some food."
"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
Despite Jane's concession to feed her, Scully felt terribly
debased having to submit to Jane in this manner. She was
like an invalid, unable to even feed herself anymore. But
she wanted to live, at least long enough to tell Mulder how
sorry she was, even if she had to rely on Jane for her
survival.
"Open wide," Jane said with a sinister chuckle and spooned
a bite into Scully's mouth.
For an instant, again Scully felt a relief to have food in her
mouth finally. She practically swallowed it down, like a
ravished animal. She even got a piece of chicken with it all.
Or maybe it was a vegetable. She bit down and it crunched
between her molars. The texture was odd, odder than any
vegetable she'd ever eaten. It was such a strange feeling
on
the roof of her mouth and her tongue as she rolled the piece
of food around in her mouth. She then became aware of
Jane's insidious, uncontrolled laughter.
Fearing Jane was going to snap on her again, she
swallowed the vegetable down. Jane was holding her
stomach from her laughter. "Taste good?" She said and
burst out again, shaking so much it was difficult for Scully to
take the next bite.
Mostly vegetables this time with a few short pieces of
noodles. They didn't taste like she'd remembered. Perhaps
that was because she was so desperately hungry, her taste
buds weren't registering anything anymore. The food just
felt so odd in her mouth.
Jane was still watching her, her head leaned in toward her
as though she were waiting for Scully to give her a critique
of the food. She smiled and continued to laugh through her
nose.
"What? What?"
Jane said nothing but gave her yet another bite. Scully took
it gratefully and as she ate, Jane showed her the inside of
the carton. Amongst the noodles and green snopeas there
was something dark. And moving. Crawling. Bugs. Huge
cockroach-looking bugs along with several small slimy,
worm-like maggots crawling in and among the white
noodles. Just as she could feel them inside her mouth.
Scully felt her stomach churn, wishing to rid itself of
everything she'd just desperately consumed. She
immediately leaned over the side of the bed and spit out
what she had in her mouth. When she was satisfied every
one of the disgusting creatures were expelled, she felt a
tinge of regret, knowing it probably would be her only hope
for any kind of sustenance.
"They live one of my exotics out there. Yeah, the little ones
are the babies and then they grow and get shells like the big
ones. See?" Jane shoved the carton closer to Scully and
one of the creatures crawled out onto her and disappeared
into the bed. Jane laughed again. "Still hungry?"
She could swear right now she felt them crawling around
inside her stomach, trying to avoid the enzymes that
threatened to break them down for digestion. If she had
enzymes that could do that to these bugs. And if the bugs
weren't some kind of exotic poisonous variety.
All of the thoughts were making her terribly sick and her
body threatened to expel all of what would probably be her
only sustenance for a long time. Who knew when Jane
would decide to feed her again.
A different sort of panic washed over her now, though. If
Jane was doing all of these horrible things to her, what was
she doing to Mulder?
xxxxxx
Charlie was at a complete loss as to how anyone could
believe that his sister had written this letter. Especially
Mulder, someone who supposedly knew her so well. Of
course, Dana had mentioned that, despite his arrogance
and somewhat smug attitude, Mulder was a deeply insecure
person. Someone was obviously using that to their
advantage. Not to mention the fact that thinking she had
left him was probably less upsetting than thinking she was
hurt or in danger. But he needed to pull his head out of the
sand right now. Before it was too late.
"Mulder, this isn't Dana."
"What do you mean it isn't Dana? It sure as hell sounds like
her."
"The words do yes, but not the feeling behind them."
Mulder's jaw tightened and Charlie saw a flash of anger in
his eyes. "Look, I think I know a little more about this than
you do." He hesitated briefly and then added, "You
didn't...you didn't hear the fight we had."
"No, I didn't, but you didn't read the letters she sent to me
about you. And you didn't grow up with her, either. You
didn't see her fighting to keep our family together even
when things were at their worst and even she was
completely miserable. I might not have been around much
for the past few years but I know my sister and I know that
she does not just walk away from the people she cares
about no matter how tough things get." Mulder was silent
for a moment and Charlie thought that maybe he had gotten
something through to him.
"She wrote you letters about me?" Good God. This guy
really had no clue. He sounded positively flabbergasted.
"Well yeah. Of course she did."
"What...what did she say?" He sounded so desperate.
Charlie was tempted to tell him absolutely every wonderful
thing his sister had ever said about him.
"She said lots of things. I mean it's been five years right?
But the basic thing is that she's crazy about you. I mean,
that doesn't even really begin to describe it. She's told me
about a lot of what the two of you have been through
together but through it all the one thing that constantly
comes across to me is that you are like, her whole universe.
She loves you. A lot. Completely and unconditionally. And
even when things seem to have been really difficult for you
guys, that's never changed."
Charlie watched as the corners of Mulder's mouth twitched.
He was aching to smile, to believe this. But then, as soon
as that hope appeared, it vanished. And was replaced by
fear. And then anger again. And finally resignation.
"Even if that's true, I gave her plenty of reasons to leave."
He didn't get it. My God he still didn't get it.
"Mulder, do you know why I haven't been around, like at
all? Do you know why you've never met me?" Mulder
shook his head.
"Because I can't deal with my family. I love them, but I
can't be with them. Except for Dana, that is. My mother is
a nag, my brother is as big of a control freak as my father
was and I can't stand being around them. That's me. That's
the kind of person I am." Mulder looked vaguely shocked
by this personal revelation. Something was registering,
finally.
"That's me. That's not Dana. They drive her nuts too, ya
know. Always have. But she would never just cut those
ties. I mean, you have no idea how many times I tried to
run away from home when I was younger. She stopped me
every time. She'd tell me it's family and you don't give up
on them no matter what."
Mulder shook his head, obviously growing frustrated with
this reminiscence. "That's real sweet. But that's different.
That's family. It's not the same situation."
"Mulder, you ARE her family now. Don't you get that?"
Mulder looked blankly at him for several minutes and
Charlie felt an overwhelming desire to slap the man silly.
How could anyone be so thick-headed?
Mulder swallowed and looked Charlie in the eye for the first
time. So much pain was swimming in his eyes. Charlie had
never seen such pain.
"So you really don't think she wrote this."
"No. No, I don't." Mulder sighed and leaned back into his
seat. He was silent for several minutes. Charlie wondered
if he should tell him more. If he should be trying even
harder to convince him. After awhile he grew so
uncomfortable with the silence he was ready to tell Mulder
his sister's entire life story.
"Mulder..."
"Neither do I."
Charlie let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
Thank God. Thank fucking God.
"I almost did. I did last night. But...you're right. It's not
her. It's just...not." He looked terribly sad at having decided
this. And frightened. "It's her handwriting. I mean, I'm
going to take it to the bureau's handwriting experts just to
make sure but I'm pretty certain that it is."
"So, you think someone forced her to write it."
"I think...", his eyes squeezed shut and he nodded slowly. "I
think that that's the most likely explanation at this point."
"So that's good. That means she's still alive."
Mulder's eyes flew open and he looked at Charlie angrily.
"Of course she's still alive!" he shouted at a surprisingly
loud decibel. He'd been speaking just above a whisper until
that point.
"Okay. I know..."
"I would know if she...I would know..." he sputtered and
Charlie nodded sympathetically.
"Sure you would. Of course. So, we need to look for her."
He was trying to be as patient and understanding as
possible. Mulder seemed like he was walking a thin line
between sanity and, well, the other.
"I will. I am. I'm...I'm not giving up on her. I'm not going
to give up."
"Well, I'm glad but the point of my coming here in the first
place was to offer to help. I don't know a lot about Bureau
procedure but I suspect you'd probably consider that a good
thing. What I do have is a strong desire to find my sister
and a willingness to do just about anything to that end."
"Um..." Mulder looked down again and started fiddling
with the napkin on the table. "I appreciate the offer but I
really work better alone. I'm not really what you'd call a
team player. The only person whose ever been able to help
me is your sister. I make it kind of difficult."
"Look, I'm gonna look for her. And you're gonna look for
her. We can do it separately and waste time or we can
work together and get something done already."
Mulder shrugged and stood up.
"Um...where are you going?"
"We're going to get the keys to my office so we can start
looking for her."
xxxxxx
4:30 p.m.
Mulder's apartment building
Mulder's office keys were in his apartment. Charlie had
followed him to the building in his car, speeding the entire
time.
They paused in front of his door and Mulder looked as if
he'd suddenly remembered something important. Before he
unlocked the door he turned to Charles and smiled mildly.
"Um, forgive the mess."
"Mess? Please. You should see...my..." Charlie drifted off
as Mulder threw open the door to reveal the most
shockingly hideous disaster area Charlie had ever seen. It
looked like a tornado had ripped through the entire
apartment. The floor was littered with broken glass, papers,
clothing, cookware, just about everything one would expect
to find in someone's home. It seemed like just about
everything in the place was broken or torn apart.
Mulder looked somewhat embarrassed and shrugged.
Charlie had thought for a moment that someone had broken
in but it was obvious from the look on Mulder's face that
he'd done the damage himself. He decided not to ask him
about it. It was none of his business really and it didn't take
a rocket scientist to figure out what had driven him to such
despair.
He noticed the broken screen of the television, the blood on
the glass, and made the connection to the bandage on
Mulder's arm. He hoped the pity didn't show on his face.
"Um...let me just find those keys." Charlie tried not to smile
at the ridiculous image of Mulder rummaging around the
debris. It was like a needle in a haystack.
"Mulder, you're back. I was worried..." Charlie turned to
see a woman standing in the doorway of Mulder's bedroom.
She was relatively attractive and looked about Mulder's age,
maybe a little younger. And she was in his apartment
waiting for him. Charlie felt a surge of anger and
suspicion. Maybe he'd been wrong about Mulder.
Mulder looked up with a surprisingly alarmed expression.
"Jane...I...ugh...what..."
"I...I thought I'd come by and clean up the mess. I wanted
to make sure that you weren't hurt. I hope that's okay."
Mulder shrugged and scratched his head. He looked so
uncomfortable it was almost painful to watch. Charlie
looked back and forth between the two of them, trying to
figure out what the situation was here.
"Yeah...it's...it's fine. I'm fine. Um...have you seen my
office keys?"
Jane walked to the bookcase and picked the keys off the
top.
"I put them here with some other stuff I thought you'd
want." She glanced over at Charlie with a strange
expression. Almost a fearful one.
"Um, thanks." Mulder looked down at his feet and took
the keys from her hand somewhat reluctantly. "Oh, sorry.
This is Charles Scully. He's Scully's brother. Charlie, this is
Jane, she's my cleaning lady." His cleaning lady? Why was
he squirming like that with his cleaning lady? He reached
out his hand for her to shake. She looked at it strangely for
a moment before returning the gesture.
"Scully's brother, huh?" She glanced towards the window
and Charlie could swear she suddenly seemed very
nervous.
"Yeah, he um..." Mulder looked at Charlie and smiled, "He's
gonna help me find her." Charlie smiled back. He was
convinced that Mulder wasn't involved with this woman
romantically but he still couldn't figure out the nature of
their relationship. It was awkward to say the least.
"Help you....find her?" She was definitely nervous. "I
thought...I mean...is that the best idea? I thought that you
thought..."
"I'm not sure what I think anymore. But I need to find her
no matter what."
"I...see. Um are you...are you an FBI agent too?" She
asked Charlie.
"No I'm just a guy who wants to find his sister." He grinned
congenially and Jane turned a decided shade of pale.
"Oh,...I see."
"Um, we're gonna go now. I ugh...don't worry about the
mess, Jane. I'll take care of it." Mulder ducked away from
her and moved towards the door.
Charlie followed behind him and took a last glance back at
Jane before leaving the apartment. She looked very
concerned, very...odd. Charlie couldn't quite place it but
there was something very wrong.
xxxxxx
Scully watched the fountain through the window. It had
seemed that a lot of time had passed since Jane had last
been in the room, since she'd fed her those revolting,
squirming insects. She tried not to think about the fact that
she'd swallowed a few. It was really the least of her
problems.
She felt disgusting. She was still wearing the same pajamas
she'd had on since the night Jane had taken her away. The
same night she and Mulder had both finally snapped from
the pressure they had put on one another. She whimpered
from the thought of the abhorrent state in which she now
must appear. Of all the ways to die, she had never
considered ending up like this.
She supposed for a moment she was deserving of it. She
was the one who had taken the best thing to ever happen to
her for granted. Stifled a closeness that she longed for and
she knew Mulder did as well until it drove him away. She
worked so hard to prove to herself and to Mulder that while
he was important to her, in the end she needed no one but
herself. That she always appreciated Mulder's concerns for
her well-being, but in the end would always survive on her
own strengths.
While she continued to watch the fountain, she fell into one
of her coughing fits again. She couldn't stop and it hurt
her everywhere. Her throat was raw, her windpipe
constricted. She tasted blood her mouth and she wasn't
sure if it was from her face or her lungs. Her vision was
spotty and she wondered if this was the beginning of the
end for her.
Not willing to give in just yet, she opened and shut her eyes
several times, breathing as evenly as she could manage.
The black spots were still there. Moving all around the bed
and the wall. But not moving. Crawling.
She gasped sharply as she realized they were the same
bugs that were in the noodles. The same ones she'd
ingested. They were coming into the room from the window,
in droves, rushing toward her, on her, into her. They were
crawling into her skin, burrowing into her pores. She looked
down at her arms and could see them moving under her
skin.
Somewhere in the background she heard Jane, singing.
"She swallowed the spider to catch the fly...I don't know
why she swallowed the fly..."
"No!" She screamed and felt one crawl into her mouth.
She tried to spit it out, but it couldn't be done. She wiggled
as much as she was able, but they kept coming toward her,
into her through her nose and her navel and even her
vagina.
"There was an old lady who swallowed a spider..." Jane
sang.
They continued to crawl in through the window, more and
more of them until the bed was completely black, covered in
them. Scully felt a hundred pounds heavier suddenly and
was beginning to feel the life being drained from her,
literally, by these creatures.
"I don't know why she swallowed the fly..."
"Jane, help me, please," Scully finally cried at her. "Make
it stop, make it stop."
"Perhaps she'll die..." Scully heard her repeat the phrase
over and over, laughing as she sang.
"No, no, no," she yelled.
Scully heard a door slam and Jane yelling, "WHAT THE
HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?"
Scully jumped in her sleep. At least that's what it had to
have been, but she never felt like she'd opened her eyes
from sleep. She hadn't been asleep. She couldn't have
been asleep.
"There were bugs," Scully started and then realized there
were none. Not in the bed or on the floor or crawling in
from the window.
She heard Jane chuckle yet again, and then saw her pick up
something off the bed. It was one of the bugs. Jane held it
between two fingers. It was dead.
"God, what a little fraidy cat you are. It's fucking dead and
you're scared of it?" She shook her head at Scully and
threw the carcass at her, hitting Scully on the head, feeling
as though it had gotten stuck in her hair. "Now shut the
fuck up already or I'm gonna have to kill you!"
end part 7
Desideratum One: Lost
by Rachel Anton and Laura Blaurosen
part 8/11
Friday, 4:56 p.m.
"Fucking move, asshole!" Mulder leaned on his horn
irritably and the driver who had just cut him off flashed him
the international symbol of road rage.
It didn't matter anyway. There was no way this traffic was
going anywhere. He and Charlie were stuck on the Beltway
at five o'clock in the afternoon and there was nothing that
could be done about it.
He glanced over at Charlie who was patiently sitting with
his hands folded in his lap looking out the window. He
didn't seem annoyed at all by the traffic. Hell, the guy didn't
seem annoyed by anything, ever. Even Mulder.
After forty-eight hours of working together Mulder figured
Charlie would be ready to kill him but so far he hadn't even
raised an objection to Mulder's unusual methods of
investigation. He'd gone along and helped out when
needed and kept his mouth shut most of the time. He was
turning out to be the second best partner Mulder had ever
had. Probably because, as Charlie himself had pointed out,
he wasn't an FBI agent.
He was, however, a Navy officer. He didn't seem like a
typical military type though. Mulder was usually suspicious
of anything or anyone related to the military but Charlie
seemed different for some reason.
It didn't look like they were going anywhere so Mulder
decided it might be worth it to do a little digging into Scully's
brother's history. He was starting to get suspicious about
his lack of suspicion. Krycek had seemed like a decent guy
at first too.
"So Charlie, how long have you been in the Navy, anyway?"
"Too long." Charlie grinned and shook his head. "Too
damn long."
"You don't like it?"
He looked like he was considering the question very
seriously. After a minute or two he sighed. "I wouldn't say
that exactly. I've enjoyed certain aspects of it. And I'm
proud of what I've accomplished there but, well let's just say
it wasn't exactly my first choice as far as a career is
concerned."
Mulder was about to ask him what his first choice had been
but Charlie started talking again before he had the chance.
"I do love the ocean. Being at sea is quite an experience.
I've seen some real strange things out there."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, well, Dana warned me not to get started talking
about this stuff with you if we ever met but, yeah. Strange
lights, stuff like that. Things that no one could explain, that
some people seemed real nervous about." Mulder knew
under ordinary circumstances he would be insanely curious
about this but these were not ordinary circumstances.
Besides, this was the same kind of line Krycek had fed him
and he was starting to get even more on edge as the
memories returned to him.
He just nodded and muttered, "I'm not surprised."
"But anyway, like I said, it wasn't always what I wanted to
do. In fact I was dead set against it. It was always assumed
that that's what I would do, ya know? And when Bill joined
it was like, beyond assumed. But I was against it all the
way."
"So what made you change your mind?"
"Well...I never really did officially. I kind of got myself into
a situation where it was the lesser of two evils."
"The other evil being?"
"Well, prison." Mulder didn't know what to say to that. He
was shocked but for some reason the admission eased his
concerns a bit. Charlie wasn't so perfect after all. Since
Mulder was silent, Charlie continued.
"Yeah I got caught stealing a car. I was seventeen and I'd
just dropped out of high school. I was a little um...confused.
So anyway when the captain found out he said either I bail
ya out and get you a lawyer and it's off to boot camp or you
rot in this cell." Charlie laughed to himself. He seemed to
think the story was pretty funny in retrospect. "Wasn't really
much of a choice, ya know."
"Who...who's the captain?"
"My father." He grumbled with barely disguised contempt.
"That's what we called him. Well, me and Bill anyway.
Melissa got to call him dad and of course he was Ahab to
Dana. But he actually liked them so..." Charlie drifted off
and ran his hands through his thick black hair. "Sorry. I
shouldn't be boring you with the pathetic melodrama of the
Scully family."
Mulder was actually far from bored. In fact he was
fascinated. For some reason he'd always assumed that the
Scully family was as close to perfect as a family could be.
At least until he'd come into the picture. But then again
everyone's family seems perfect when you come from the
kind of abusive, bizarre pit Mulder had spewed forth from.
Still, maybe not all was sunshine and roses in the world of
the Scully's. And this was where Scully came from. This
was a chance to find out more about her. A chance to
understand her in a new way. He was very interested to
say the least.
And he was warming up to Charlie. He seemed to have a
lot of animosity towards his now deceased father and that
was certainly something Mulder could relate to.
"That's okay. It's not like we've got anything else to do,"
he grumbled, gesturing towards the traffic jam from hell.
"So, you and your dad didn't get along too well I take it."
"I suppose you could say that. He ran our home the same
way he ran his fleets and that kind of clashed with my basic
instincts, I suppose. It worked great for Bill. And Missy,
well, actually he kind of spared Missy from that. She was
the special one. She kind of got spared everything. She
was so fragile. But me and Dana kind of got the bad end of
all of that."
Mulder nodded, trying to absorb this bit of information. To
assimilate it into the bank of knowledge he already had
about Scully.
"It's funny cause it seems to have had opposite effects on
us. All that repression and harshness sort of made Dana
shut down, afraid to really talk about her feelings, afraid to
even admit that she has them most of the time, and in
me, well I can never seem to shut up about them."
It made perfect sense to Mulder. And it explained a lot. In
fact that one simple thing explained almost everything. It
made him want to cry. He'd been so pushy with her, so
demanding and invasive.
"Anyway, I think everybody knew I was headed for that
kind of thing. Dana used to call me jailbird before I even
got arrested. She thought it was funny. She said it at
dinner once and mom just completely wigged out on her,
'That's not funny Dana!' mom would say. 'How would you
feel if your brother really did end up in jail?' blah blah blah.
She was so mad, though, cause everybody knew it was true.
Dana was just the only one with the balls to admit it."
Mulder smiled at the image of a young Scully blurting out
whatever was on her mind and at the same time felt himself
begin to tear up at the thought of her exuberance being
squelched and stifled. "She was also the only one who
could deal with it, who could accept me for who I was. I
think we gave each other that..." Charlie bit down on his
lower lip and looked away from Mulder and out the window.
He missed her. He was worried about her. He loved his
sister a lot.
Mulder could relate to that on every level. As a man who'd
lost his only sister. As a friend of Scully's, another person
she'd defended against the rest of the world, another loser
who she understood when no one else did. As a person
who needed her, adored her, missed her. God, he missed
her so much.
xxxxxx
"Wake up, bitch! *Wake* *up*!" Jane shook Scully again
and again.
She watched as Scully's eyes blinked several times before
finally opening to look at her. She said nothing, just
wavered a bit and stared. Jane was relieved. Scully had
been asleep for nearly eighteen hours. When she had
come
in to check on her, it had looked as though she had stopped
breathing. Jane was glad to feel the warm air on her hand
from Scully's breath, shallow as it was.
Her face was good and bruised, streaks of dried blood
everywhere. Good. She's had her whole life to be pretty
girl. Good things can't last forever. Sorry sweetie. It just
has to be this way. Can't have it all.
"Morning, princess," she said in a mocking tone. "Doesn't
look to me like you got your beauty sleep."
Scully still said nothing. Her eyes were dilated and Jane
marked at how Scully seemed to be looking almost through
her. Then Scully dropped her head over the side of the bed
and began to heave. She vomited nothing, not even bile,
but couldn't seem to gain her composure.
She smiled an evil smile to see her like this. It gave her
such satisfaction that she could reduce Mulder's perfect
angel, his only blessed savior to a retching, nearly insane
disturbing mess. She was shaking and sweating and Jane
heard her coughing constantly, to the point she knew Scully
could no longer control it. But instead of it being merely
annoying, it was incredibly fulfilling to hear the sound of her
suffering.
If only you could see her now, Fox Mulder. You wouldn't
want her so much anymore.
Which is what she was precisely hoping for. Things had
taken a new course. If it meant making Mulder suffer for a
bit, that was more than worth it. For all the goddam
suffering she herself had gone through, he could survive
this little difficulty for the moment. Besides, she would be
there. Be there waiting to comfort him, help him heal. And
then he would love her.
"Look at you! Certainly a long way from that strong,
beautiful woman Mulder could never shut up about. A
long way."
Scully lifted herself up, feeling weaker than ever. She was
so confused, she could hardly see anything, her vision very
blurred. A tearing pain from her stomach threatened to
make her start heaving again.
"There was an old lady who swallowed a fly..." Jane sang
above her. "Perhaps she'll die."
"Ja-," she hissed through Jane's depraved giggles. "Jane,
please...water," she begged.
"S'matter, dear? Oh, you want water? I think we can
arrange that, your highness."
She new it was dangerous, but Scully allowed herself the
luxury of slight relief to hear Jane's assent. She was almost
aware that Jane left the room and when she heard running
water, she was so grateful.
Jane was still chuckling when she returned. In her hand she
held a clear glass, overflowing with cold water. It spilled
off the top and down the sides as she walked. Agent Pretty
girl looked so sadly desperate lying there, on the verge of
consciousness.
She knelt directly next to her and Scully moved as near to
the glass as she could. "Uh-uh-uh, your highness, let's not
be piggy about this, remember you're still a lady. Well, at
least you bear a slight resemblance to one." She laughed
again.
Scully concentrated on that glass, as though she believed it
would make Jane move it closer to her mouth. But instead,
Jane brought it to her own mouth and Scully cried in
frustration as Jane swallowed down more and more of the
water, until finally only a third of it was left.
Still laughing, Scully saw Jane dip something into the glass.
A wash cloth. A filthy, greasy one. It smelled like gasoline.
It soaked up the rest of the water and Scully swallowed
down non-existent saliva in an entirely reflex action. She
lay flat down again on the bed, cursing herself for even
believing, hoping in the first place.
Then Jane was above her again. "Daaa-nahhh," she called
to her and giggled again. Scully opened her eyes to the
dish rag. "Well, open up if you want a drink, hon," Jane
said as she squeezed a few drops into Scully's mouth, all
the while laughing with that now frightening maniacal tone.
It tasted like soap and bleach and grease, leaving a
disgusting aftertaste on her tongue.
"Oh, too bad, that's all you get."
Jane was so absolutely pleased with herself to see Scully
crying. "Here, suck on this, then, if you're gonna be so
pitiful." She held the rag out and Scully turned her head.
"Take it, dammit!" she yelled again and shoved it into
Scully's mouth.
The mad look in Jane's eyes was beyond frightening as she
stuffed the dirty washcloth further into her mouth. Scully
fought her all the while and soon Jane seemed to grow tired,
ceasing her assault on Scully.
Scully spit the filthy thing out of her mouth and she swore
she saw those maggots from before crawling on it. As Jane
was leaving the room, Scully called out to her as best as
she could manage. "Jane," she said weakly, her eyes
closed.
"What?"
"I don't care what you do to me. Please," she broke off and
took a wheezing breath. "Just don't hurt Mulder."
Jane ran back to the bed. "What? What the fuck are you
talking about? Why the hell would I want to hurt him?
Fuck you, Dana Scully. I know exactly what Mulder needs,
you don't need to tell me how to treat him. I know what
he wants and it sure as hell isn't you!"
She fled from the room and came promptly back with
something in her hand. Scully braced herself for further
pains.
"OPEN YOUR EYES, DAMMIT! OPEN 'EM!"
Scully's swollen eyes flew open painfully and she saw Jane
above her once again, shaking her. Jane went on with her
rant. "So don't even try to tell me that I don't. He sure as
hell doesn't love YOU! Who would want someone like
YOU anyway? Look at yourself."
She pushed the object she had brought into the room into
Scully's face. It was a hand held mirror. "LOOK
DAMMIT!!!" Jane screamed. "Look at how ugly you are
now, ya STUPID bitch!! You dirty, dirty whore!! You
were just a mistake, anyway! Who would possibly want to
have ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU!!"
Scully obeyed Jane's demands and looked into the mirror.
She cringed at what she saw. As she'd first envisioned, it
was bloody and purple and blistery all over.
Unrecognizable. 'Nothing we'll be able to do to completely
restore her face' echoed in her head. "Flawless, Scully. I
love it. Beautiful.'
She whimpered and became aware again of how much her
face hurt. She shut her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to
block Jane and the mirror and the memory of her hideous
face out of her reality. She had never in her life wished to
die. Now she did.
"He's gonna fall in love with me, you just wait," Jane's
voice rang through again. "I'm not going to hurt him."
"What do you think he'll do if he finds out you did this to
me?" Scully was surprised she could manage that much
speech.
Jane thought a minute and then her expression grew angry.
"Hey, wait a minute. You're trying to tell me I'm crazy.
Well I'm not, I am NOT. There is nothing wrong with me.
Nothing. So don't you try any of that psychology crap on
me, cause it won't work."
"I'm sorry, Jane, you're right. I didn't mean to imply-"
"Don't you FUCKING patronize me."
"I wasn't. Really, Jane, I wasn't." She coughed.
"You really think I'm stupid, don't you?"
Scully was bracing herself for another outburst of physical
violence from her and for a moment, as it looked as though
Jane was thinking of hurting her again. Dammit, I said too
much. Dammit. God, how she needed Mulder on this one.
He would have known what questions to ask and what not
to say.
To Scully's surprise, she saw Jane's eyes tear and she
sucked her lips inward. She whimpered once and ran from
the room and Scully breathed a sigh of relief.
*Mulder, I'm here, can't you hear me? It's her, it's her.
Oh, be careful, Mulder.*
xxxxxx
Monday, 1:04 am
Mulder's apt.
Mulder kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the couch,
exhausted. It had been a long and insane three days. Or
had it been four? It was all such a blur. He and Charlie
had been scouring Scully's neighborhood, questioning every
person who might have been within a fifty mile radius on the
night of her disappearance. And then there had been that
meeting with Skinner. Mulder shuddered just thinking of it.
Not to mention background checks on everyone in Scully's
building and hours and hours of surveillance tape from her
lobby. And still they had absolutely nothing. Not one single
lead. Mulder couldn't remember the last time he'd slept. Or
eaten. And it was only on Charlie's insistence that he'd
agreed to stop for the night. He'd managed to convince
Mulder that they were useless to her if they were too tired
to think and that there wasn't much they could do in the
middle of the night anyway.
And he was right, Mulder realized as he sank into the
cushions. They needed some time to regroup, to figure out
their next strategy, because they were getting nowhere this
way.
"Hate to encourage an aspiring drunk such as yourself but
how would you feel about breaking into this?" Mulder
turned to find Charlie in his kitchen, holding up a bottle of
Absolut.
"Yeah sure, helps me think."
Charlie snorted and brought the bottle out to the living
room along with two glasses. "Helps me not to. And that's
what I need right about now."
Charlie sat down on the floor across the table from Mulder.
Each of them took a shot and Mulder was proud to think
that he might be able to keep up with the Irish sailor. He
really was getting good at this drinking thing.
"So um, looks like Jane managed to clean this place up
pretty well." Mulder flinched at the mention of her name.
Yet another mess he'd left behind him. She'd been calling
incessantly for the past few days and he'd been avoiding her
like the plague. He just felt so odd about what had
happened between them. Or not happened. Whatever the
fuck it was. And frankly he hadn't had much time for her
problems lately. In fact he couldn't even remember if he'd
given her her paycheck this week.
"Yeah I guess she did. I haven't been back here since then
at all." Had it already been a week since he'd gotten that
dreadful letter?
Charlie smiled as he poured them both another shot. "I
know. I've been with you."
"Right." Charlie had yet to ask him how his place had come
to be in such a state and Mulder was glad. He didn't really
feel like sharing his mental illness with Scully's brother. The
guy actually seemed to like him for some unknown reason
and Mulder didn't want to jeopardize that. It was so
unusual to be accepted by a member of Scully's family and it
was a valuable thing to him.
And Mulder was surprised to find himself liking Charlie
back. They were actually working together quite well.
Charlie was so easy going and upbeat it was hard not to get
along with the guy. And he was grateful to him. If it hadn't
been for Charlie he'd still be in some bar reading that damn
letter over and over again instead of doing what he should
have been doing all along. Looking for Scully. Plus his arm
would probably be gangrenous by now if Charlie hadn't
convinced him to go to the emergency room and get
stitches.
It was true that they hadn't had much success. But it was
a start. It was something. And he was determined now.
They would find her. It wasn't even a question. They had
to. It was just a matter of when and how. And what kind of
shape she'd be in when they found her. Mulder felt another
surge of panic. What if things got worse for her the longer
they took? What if stopping, even for a few hours, was the
difference between life and death?
The adrenaline rush passed and he realized again that
Charlie was right. He was useless to her in this state. Better
to drink himself to sleep and start fresh in the morning.
Charlie was pouring another shot. How many did that
make? Mulder was glad to find that he couldn't remember.
Must be working.
"Hey did I ever show you my family?" Charlie asked, his
voice already slightly slurred.
"Nope."
He reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. After
some confusion he managed to locate the picture he was
looking for and handed it to Mulder across the table. He
recognized Charlie, grinning broadly and standing next to a
tall and darkly beautiful Asian woman who Mulder assumed
was his wife. They had two adorable children, a very young
boy and a girl who looked about twelve years old. They
were standing in front of the Grand Canyon.
"That was taken last year during my shore leave." Mulder
nodded and tried to smile. He wanted to be happy for him.
He really did. But he handed the picture back to him with a
heavy heart.
"You're a lucky guy."
"Thanks. Not exactly the perfect traditional Irish Catholic
family though, huh?" Mulder did smile at that. He got the
feeling that Charlie rarely did the perfect, traditional thing.
"Mom and pop were not pleased."
"Really?"
"Yeah well, Rena's a little off the beaten path. She's an
artist. And she's got some real strong opinions that she
never tries to hide. Mom never thought she'd make a
'suitable mother' to my children." Mulder nodded
sympathetically.
"The irony is, she's been really successful. I mean she's a
great mother but she's also been really successful with her
art. She's more stable than I am in a lot of ways." He
sounded so proud of her, he seemed to love her in a way
Mulder understood but doubted that many other people did.
"What are your kids names?"
"The boy is Charlie junior, tres original I know. My
daughter's name is Pele, after the fire goddess, ya know.
That was Rena's idea." Mulder grinned. Charlie's
enthusiasm over his family was contagious.
"That's cute."
"Yeah she's a cutie. Kind of turning into a terror though.
Kind of reminds me of the red menace herself."
"You mean Scully?"
"God, I can't get used to someone saying Scully and not
talking about me. Anyway, yeah. She reminds me of Dana
when she was a kid. I just hope we don't have a Jeff
Bloomfield incident with her. Don't think my heart could
take that." Mulder was almost afraid to ask who Jeff
Bloomfield was but his curiosity was the overwhelming
motivator.
"What's a Jeff Bloomfield incident?"
"Oh man, you can't be serious. Dana's never told you that
story?" He shook his head. There was so much that she
hadn't told him. So much they still had to share.
*Dammit Scully, where are you?*
"Wow, I dunno if I should tell you. It's really embarrassing."
Mulder was almost insane with curiosity at this point. He'd
always assumed that Scully didn't have any embarrassing
stories. She'd always been perfect. Jeff Bloomfield. Maybe
it was some kid who'd had a crush on her or something. Or
somebody she'd beaten up.
Charlie looked like he was trying not to laugh. This had to
be good.
"I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you told me."
Charlie rolled his eyes. "I'm sure that's not true but what the
hell, it's late, I'm drunk. Why the hell not." He poured them
both another shot before beginning and slugged it down.
"Okay, Jeff Bloomfield was this guy who lived on the base in
California when we were there in the navy housing. He was
a cadet or something. Anyway, Dana had this huge crush
on him for like a million years. So, this one weekend, Dad
and Bill were gone, out at sea ya know, and Mom wanted
to go visit Nana. This was before I dropped out of high
school so I guess I was about fifteen. Dana was sixteen."
Charlie poured another shot for himself. Mulder was already
shocked by the story. Scully had a crush on someone? He'd
never imagined her with a crush on anyone, ever for some
reason. And Charlie had dropped out of high school?
Scully's family got more interesting by the minute.
"So Dana tells mom that she's sick, that she can't come
with us. Headache or some shit. And mom was all worried
about leaving her for the whole weekend which totally
pissed Dana off since she was 'practically an adult'." Mulder
could hear her saying those words in his head. "So mom
relented and dragged me and Missy off to Nana's. Then like
halfway through the visit mom decides to call Dana to make
sure she's okay but nobody answers the phone. So mom
decides that we have to go home because she's all worried.
So we pile back into the car and drive back home. And then
when we get there, there's a car in the driveway that we
don't recognize and mom really starts to freak out and
then..." Charlie broke off into a hysterical laughing fit and
Mulder felt like shaking him. What the hell had happened
next? He was starting to get worried about Scully himself.
"Then mom throws open the door and there's Jeff
Bloomfield boinking the hell out of my sister on the fucking
floor." Charlie set off on another laughing fit which seemed
to increase in intensity when Mulder spit a mouthful of
Absolut across the table at him.
end part 8
Desideratum One: Lost
by Rachel Anton and Laura Blaurosen
part 9/11
"They were...he was...she..." Mulder sputtered for a while,
completely unable to form a coherent thought. All his brain
seemed able to do was formulate a dozen mental images to
go along with Charlie's story.
"You should have seen my mother's face. Jesus, it was
priceless. I wish I'd had my camera. And Dana's. She was
so horrified. And there's me and Missy, laughing our asses
off."
"So what...what happened? I mean..." Mulder cursed
himself for his damn curiosity. But there were things that he
just had to know about this. She'd only been sixteen, for
Christ's sake. "I mean, what exactly were they doing? I
mean...was she naked?"
Mulder was afraid Charlie was going to bust a gut on that
one. "Of course she was naked. They were having sex!
Story wouldn't be too fucking funny if she'd had her clothes
on, would it?"
"Well no, I just thought..." Mulder wasn't exactly sure what
he'd thought. That Scully was a thirty-five year old virgin?
Some kind of saint? No, he realized, he'd never really
thought that. He knew she'd had relationships. It was just
that "Jack and I dated for a year" was a bit less descriptive
than "boinking my sister on the floor". He'd just never
really...imagined it before. Not like he was doing now, fully
against his own will. A sixteen year old Dana Scully, young
and fresh, nubile adolescent body, writhing around on the
floor with some guy. No, it couldn't have been like that.
Maybe he'd taken advantage of her. Maybe it was a
traumatic experience for her.
"Was she okay?"
"Okay? What do you mean?"
"Well, I mean...did he hurt her or anything?"
"Hurt her?" Charlie laughed again. "Not that I know of.
Looked like she was having a ball to me. So to speak." For
some reason Mulder was not amused. "Well, until mom
started hollering at the two of them. There they are,
scrambling around to get their clothes back on and mom's
going on and on. It was so fucking funny. Then she goes
to Jeff, 'Do you have any idea how old this girl is' and he
goes 'twenty-one right?' And mom's like, 'No you idiot,
she's only sixteen, now get outta my house!'"
*This should not be turning me on. This should not be
turning me on.* Mulder repeated the phrase in his head like
a mantra. But it wasn't working. He just couldn't get the
damn image out of his brain. He wondered how many times
it had been. If they'd done it all over her parents house
before they were interrupted. What position had they been
in when they'd gotten caught?
"God poor Dana. She was so embarrassed."
"I'll bet." Little Dana, pulling on her shirt, over her perky
little breasts, blushing red as a rose. What a naughty girl.
Mulder crossed his legs in a lame attempt to hide what was
happening to him.
"So, did your dad find out?" Mulder had a feeling that if he
had, Jeff would have had a very unfortunate fate. Perhaps
he ended up in jail for statutory rape.
"No he didn't, thank God. Dana managed to convince mom
not to tell him about it and me and Missy certainly weren't
going to. She was all crying and shit. I guess mom felt bad
for her. But we never saw Jeff around the house again."
"So what did you do? I mean didn't you wanna kick the guy
in the balls?"
"What for?"
Good question. Mulder didn't really have an answer but for
some reason he felt like killing the guy.
"He wasn't a bad guy. Dana's the one that told him she was
twenty-one. He didn't really do anything wrong. Certainly
was a good thing Bill hadn't been there, though. He would
have blown a gasket. He's always hated Dana's guys,
though. I mean I'm sure that's why he hates you. I wouldn't
take that personally by the way. He's hated every boyfriend
she's had. Some kind of misplaced father complex or some
shit." Mulder was suddenly terribly confused. And dizzy.
What the hell was he talking about. Dana's guys? Was he a
Dana's guy?
"Um...what?"
"In fact as soon as I heard that he didn't like you I knew you
had to be okay. He's a terrible judge of character. The only
guy she dated that he liked was this total jerk..."
"Wait...what? Does he think that I'm...that we're...does he
think that Scully and I are lovers?" Just saying those words
sent a shiver through his entire body.
Charlie looked at him like he'd just grown a second head.
"Well I suppose that he does. I mean, aren't you?"
Mulder felt suddenly speechless. Aren't you? What the hell
was the answer to that one. Well, we're not lovers but I did
try to rape her once. He shook his head.
"You're not? Really?"
"No. Really."
"Oh. Oh, really? Wow. I'm sorry. I just assumed. I mean
Dana never said as much but you know how she is. She
never really says as much, you know. I just figured, the
way she talked about you..."
Mulder wondered if everyone in her family thought that.
Did her mother think that? Did everyone in the world think
that? How exactly had she talked about him? Mulder
shuddered involuntarily. Suddenly the mental image of
young Dana and the faceless Jeff shifted in his brain to
present Scully. And him. On the floor. Jesus.
Mulder pulled a cushion from the couch onto his lap in what
he hoped was a nonchalant gesture. He rested his elbow
on
it to prove that it was there for comfort, not to hide
anything. He cursed himself for thinking of her like this
again. This kind of crap was what had started this whole
mess in the first place.
"I've got a picture of all of us from that year actually."
Charlie started pulling pictures out of his wallet and looking
through them. Jesus, no. Mulder prayed that he wouldn't
find it. He didn't want to see. God he really didn't.
He lifted one from the pile with a grin. "Wanna see little
Dana?"
Mulder decided maybe he didn't like Charlie so much after
all.
He recognized all the Scully siblings in the shot. Bill and
Charlie were in the foreground tossing a football around
and Melissa was lying on the grass in shorts and a T-shirt.
There was a house in the background that he assumed
was the Scully family home. And on the porch of that
house, sat little Dana.
Two long red braids hung down the sides of her head. A
few loose curls were framing her face. Her skin was
slightly red from the sun. Her chest and arms were
covered with freckles. She was wearing cutoff jean shorts
and a bathing suit top that covered her round, well
developed breasts, and tied around her neck at the top. She
was sitting on the front steps of the house with a book in
her lap and a pen in her hand. She was looking up at
whoever was taking the picture. Her eyebrow was arched
and she was smirking disdainfully.
She was everything he had imagined and nothing he could
have created in his wildest fantasies. She was tomboy and
Lolita rolled into one. She was the quiet, brainy,
introspective, often overlooked middle child whose heart
and body held more mysteries than anyone ever
considered. She was Daddy's little girl. The girl who, every
once and awhile, felt something stirring inside her. An
urge. A burning need to do something rebellious, something
that no one would expect. Something like fucking the next
door neighbor in Mommy's living room.
He bit down on the inside of his mouth to keep from
moaning out loud.
"Mulder?"
He jumped as the sound of Charlie's voice interrupted his
musings. He realized he was clutching the photo in his
sweaty hand. He'd been holding it for awhile now, just
staring, probably fucking drooling.
He handed the picture back to Charlie, needing it out of his
sight.
"Cute huh?"
Mulder stared at him for a moment, unable to form a single
word. He swallowed and managed to nod and choke out,
"Cute."
Charlie held the bottle upside down. It was empty. "Jeez
we finished that off in a hurry. Hey, I'm kinda tired. You
mind if I crash on the chair or something? I don't wanna
try to drive like this."
Mulder nodded absently, barely registering the request, and
Charlie kicked off his shoes and collapsed into the chair
next to the table. Mulder sat silently for several minutes,
waiting in vain for his body and mind to settle down a little.
Soon he heard Charlie start to snore and still he was in the
same state.
What the hell was wrong with him? Scully was missing,
possibly in danger. He needed to be thinking clearly, to
concentrate on finding her. Not fantasizing about little girls.
Even if Scully was the little girl in question. Hell, especially
if it was Scully. After everything that had happened, after
the way this kind of thinking had made him act towards her,
he should be covering her in a shroud in his mind. He
should be doing his best to restore her to her former status.
Scully the untouchable. Scully the saint. Scully who was
too pure of mind and heart to think about sex. To need it.
But try as he might, he couldn't get the images out of his
head. And he couldn't stop what they were doing to him.
He cursed Charlie for telling him the stupid story in the first
place. What had he been thinking? Real cute story,
Charlie. What a fucking laugh riot. Of course he'd thought
that Mulder already knew about that side of Scully.
Intimately.
But then to show him that fucking picture. To illustrate the
whole goddamn thing. What the fuck was he trying to do to
him?
He shifted into what he hoped would be a more comfortable
position, reclining on the couch. No difference. How the
hell was he supposed to sleep now? He turned over onto his
side and clutched the cushion underneath him. Hopeless,
he was absolutely hopeless.
He looked at the table in front of him. The picture was still
there. Charlie had left it on top of the pile of snapshots. He
looked away quickly, willing himself to resist the temptation.
He couldn't. He wouldn't. He hadn't even done that with the
picture he had of her from the present.
He snuck a peak over at Charlie. He was sleeping soundly
in his drunken stupor. Mulder was alone more or less. He
let out a sigh of frustration. It had been a long time. Since
she'd disappeared, really. He hadn't even been able to
think
about it. For the first time in his life it had been the furthest
thing from his mind. Until now. Until that damn story.
After a few more minutes, a few more uncomfortable
positions, he realized that he had two choices here. Spend
the whole night, wide awake and horny as hell, and go back
to the search in the morning, no more rested and even more
tense or do something about it. Something that might allow
him to rest when it was done. Something that might prevent
him from coming in his pants right here on the couch.
He took one last look at Charlie, making absolutely certain
that he was asleep, and stood on shaking legs. He started
to make his way to the bathroom but when he was halfway
there he turned back. He looked at the table again. It was
still there. Fairies hadn't snuck in and taken it away from
him. Why couldn't Charlie have taken it back? Put it in his
wallet, in his pocket? Why did it have to sit there like that?
He tried to think of that night. Tried to remember how angry
his advances had made her. Tried to imagine her yelling at
him, telling him to stop. Just stop. For the love of God,
stop.
But angry, adult Scully kept shifting in his imagination to
young, horny Scully. And then to adult horny Scully, to her
lips parting under his in that one fucking singular great
moment of his life.
He glared at Charlie. Damn him. Damn him for doing this.
He grabbed the picture from the table and stumbled
nervously into the bathroom. He closed the door behind
him and leaned against the frame, needing some support.
He was so drunk and so turned on he thought he was going
to fall down.
He put his fingers over the other members of the Scully clan
in the photograph so that he could just focus on her. Just
her. He didn't have to work for the images. They were
vivid but broken. Not a continuos scene but bits and pieces,
fragments thrown together in a twisting melange in his
imagination. It was easy with the picture. So easy to take
her out of the paper and bring her to life in the scenarios of
his fantasies.
Little Dana, in a halter top and cutoffs, standing on her
lawn, looking at the object of her desire with a mixture of
lust and fear, lips slightly parted, eyes wide with hunger,
twisting her braids in her fingers.
The sound of his zipper was unbearably loud in the silent
bathroom.
Scully, sitting at her laptop, looking across the room at him
as she types, eyebrow raised, a mixture of annoyance and
excitement as he drones on about nothing.
His callused hand felt almost painful clutching at his now
hyper-sensitive sex.
Little Dana, lying in her little bed, in her little bathing suit
top, unzipping her cutoffs, slipping her hand between her
legs as her eyes squeeze shut and her mouth opens in a
silent moan. The window is open and Mommy and Daddy
are having a barbecue on the lawn outside.
Precum dripped down his fingers and beads of sweat
dripped down his face as he gripped the photograph tighter.
Scully, pulling off her robe, showing him every sweet curve,
every soft inch of flesh, touching the place right above her
panties where the curve of her hip meets the beginning of
her round little bottom.
The throbbing traveled from his cock to his mind to his
heart and back again until his whole body felt like it was on
the verge of explosion.
Little Dana kissing her faceless lover in mommy's kitchen,
sitting on the sink, her legs wrapped around him, grinding
against him, moaning into his mouth as her tongue slides
through his lips.
He let the picture slip through his fingers and fall to the
floor.
Scully lying next to him in a lumpy bed in a darkened hotel
room in a nameless town, moving her hands over her body
under the sheets as he pretends to sleep, stifling her groans
into the pillow.
He reached for the towel on the rack next to him with his
now free hand and clutched it for dear life as he looked
down at the picture on the floor again.
Little Dana, crawling up his body, his now, not Jeff's, sitting
on his face, the taste of her strawberry pink pussy filling his
mouth as she grinds into him, hoping mommy doesn't get
home before she comes.
The towel slipped from the rack as he collapsed to his
knees, cracking them against the tiled floor. He couldn't
feel the pain. Too close, he was too close already. He
pulled his hand reluctantly from his straining, throbbing
erection. He wanted more. More fantasy, more Scully,
more time. He took a deep breath and tried to redirect his
thoughts. Take it slower....
Scully in the car beside him, sleeping as he drives, her
tongue running out carelessly over her lips, a small sigh
escaping her wet mouth, her legs shifting against each
other.
He bit his lower lip in an attempt to keep from crying out
and blood trickled down his chin.
Dirty little Dana, sitting on his lap, in Daddy's chair, in her
Catholic school girl's uniform, plaid skirt and high socks
and no panties, writhing her perfect behind against his
cock, kissing him with an open mouth, a probing tongue.
His fingers trembled against his sex and he knew there
was no use in trying to prolong the inevitable.
Scully...and him...him and Scully, on his couch, in the office,
on a hotel bed, on her mother's floor, sweat and cum and
blood and tears and her mouth and her tongue and her on
top of him and him on top of her and her orgasm around
him, gripping him, pulling him into her so far that he could
never find his way out, and her eyes open, wide and feral,
searing into him as she screams from the pleasure.
He pulled the towel into his mouth to stifle his groan as his
fingers pulled violently at his cock. His head hit the floor as
he doubled over from the intensity of his orgasm.
*Mulder, I feel you. Where are you?*
"Scully?" He whispered frantically. Her voice had been so
clear, it sounded like she was in the room with him. He
snapped his head up and looked around the tiny room. He
was alone. Alone with a pile of cum on his freshly mopped
bathroom floor. A drop had splattered onto the picture.
"God...oh God." He took a deep, shuddering breath and
stood on legs that had taken on the consistency of Jello.
"Shit. Shit, Scully." He used the towel to wipe down his
hands and his dick and the picture, God the picture, and
zipped up his fly. He looked down at himself. Cum was
already starting to dry on the denim of his jeans forming a
thick crusty film. Lovely, truly charming. He'd have to
change before Charlie woke up.
God, Charlie. How could he even face the guy again after
that. What a sick fuck he was. What a disgusting mess.
But at least now he had a chance of falling asleep. Maybe.
He opened the door to the bathroom and peered slowly
around the corner. He saw Charlie's profile, sleeping
soundly on the chair still. Thank God. He was about to go
to the closet and find something to change into when
something caught his eye. It was dark in the living room
but he could see the outline of something...someone.
Someone else was in the living room.
xxxxxx
It wasn't until Scully felt warm, salty liquid drip into her
mouth that she realized she was crying. And chanting...
something, in her head. What?
*Mulder, I'm right here. So close. Right here. Mulder*
She had started to say it over and over in her head until she
was no longer conscious of doing it. She wished she could
talk to him. She wanted so badly to see him, speak with
him, touch him. Know that she was real. She was
beginning to doubt that he was anymore.
She was in a weaker state than she had ever known. She
was just as afraid to shut her eyes as she was to keep them
open. What was reality was starting to bleed into deranged
visions.
She closed her eyes.
It was warm and sticky out. Her brothers were in front of
her in the yard, arguing the whole time they tossed a
football back and forth. Melissa was laying on the ground,
looking up at the clouds, telling her something about how
the ancient Incas read them or prayed to them or something
to help with problems in infertility. She knew this scene.
She had lived it before. She could remember having her
own fears regarding fertility that day. Two days and she'd
know for sure if she had anything to worry about. What
had she been think-
Something made her look up. Mulder was there, staring at
her with a ravenous look on his face. Her heart pounded at
the sight of him. She returned the look and set her
notebook down on the step.
-Come to my room, Mulder. I want to show you
something.
Her brothers and sister did not see him and she was glad for
that. They seemed completely uninterested that she was
asking a 37 year old man into her bedroom. She turned her
back to all of them and proceeded into the house, up the
stairs to her room.
-It's so hot this summer, isn't it, Mulder? I wish we had
central air like the Bartala's across the street.
She lay down on her twin bed and Mulder fell into the bean
bag chair at the foot of Missy's bed. She gave him a look
through nearly closed eyelids and unzipped her shorts. She
heard Mulder moan and swallow. She slid her hand inside,
between her legs.
-Oh Mulder...feels so nice...
Outside Mom and Dad are laughing and she could smell
Italian sausage and cheeseburgers on the grill. Mulder
looks worried, but redder in the face than she'd ever seen,
eyes black and a streak of perspiration dripping from each
of his temples. He held himself through his jeans, looking
extremely uncomfortable. He's going to run again.
She gestured to him with her free hand to come closer, then
moaned from the vibrations she was sending through her
own body. He shakes his head, yet obeys and joins her at
the bed. She replaced her hand with his.
-Oh, yes, Mulder, please...
His touch was light, tentative, practically frightened.
-More, Mulder. I need it.
she willed him and he sped up his caressing, all the while
licking and sucking and biting at her neck. For a split
second she worried what mom was going to say about the
hickeys. Especially since...Jeff? But that was so long ago.
She and Jeff in the kitchen...
Mulder was now standing between her legs, she perched up
on the sink. She was aware of being dressed now in her
school uniform, white socks to her knees but no underwear.
She was thirty-four years old and sixteen at the same time.
She pulled Mulder closer to her, to her heat. She gripped
him around the waist with her legs, around his neck with her
arms, and ground herself into him. As he opened his mouth
in a groan, she covered it with hers and pushed her tongue
inside. He began to pull away and she panicked.
-No, Mulder, wait. Look.
She pulled her skirt up to reveal how bare she was. He fell
to his knees and she wrapped her legs around his neck.
Then suddenly they were on the floor of the living room.
Mulder, lying completely naked, she astride his belly. Soon
she was crawling up his body, only to have him take her by
the hips and place her dripping wet sex over his mouth.
-Oh yes, Mulder. Oh God, yes!
Her voice encouraged his actions and he was sucking and
licking and kissing her so powerfully it seemed she would
just melt into him. She wanted this now. Oh, God, what
about mom and dad, they're outside...
-Oh keep going, Mulder. Please...I need...
He stopped.
-Oh, No, Mulder, don't. God, I can't. I need you.
Then they were in the living room, in the recliner. The one
mom bought dad for his fiftieth birthday. Mulder's hands
were in her unbuttoned regulation white uniform shirt, one
hand dipped into her bra, cupping a breast and kneading it
almost possessively. She kissed him harder, moaned, and
wiggled her ass over his erection.
He stopped again. And then he was leaving. Leaving the
house. She heard his voice this time.
-I'm so sorry Scully.
Why was he sorry?
She ran out of the house, not caring about the shape of her
appearance, what her family would say to her, what the
neighbors would think. She needed to get to Mulder.
Quickly. For some reason, she knew time was wearing out.
Or she was wearing out.
Outside, she was in Arlington, in front of a building she
knew well. She recognized people, cars, other buildings
she
knew were all in the vicinity of Mulder's apartment. People
were passing her, moving right through her, never seeing
her.
Mulder. She was near him. He hadn't gone far.
She looked up the building. There were no lights on his
window. She needed to be up there, she thought and
immediately felt herself ascending, floating almost into the
apartment. Not much time left.
It was dark in the room, but as real as the last time she'd
been in there. Except that she didn't find Mulder there. It
was Charlie. Asleep. Oh, god, was Mulder dead? Was she
the one that was too late?
No, she felt him. Inside her, physically and emotionally. He
was near. She needed him there, touching her, speaking to
her, letting her know if this was real. If she was real, alive.
*Mulder, I feel you. Where are you?*
She tried to speak out loud, but could not. It was taking all
of her energy to just think the words anymore. She felt
something at her back, like a cord, pulling her back to
where she had come from, tugging lightly.
She tried to rouse her brother. She screamed in her head
for him to wake up, to hear her, to show her where Mulder
was. Then she heard him. Mulder.
"Jesus...Jesus Scully."
It was so clear, loud in her head. She looked and Charlie
had awakened. He looked at her with severe confusion, his
icy blue eyes wide in disbelief.
Then she saw Mulder, reaching for her, calling her name.
She was overcome with a deep fear of him touching her,
though she wanted that so badly. She felt that cord again,
tugging more insistently now. Back to her pains, back to
Jane...
Mulder was in tears, nearing her and Charlie was beginning
to stand. Her time was running shorter. She had to tell
them. Tell them where to find her.
*I'm so near to you, Mulder.*
*Jane's, Charlie. Jane's. Tell Mulder. I have no time.*
Neither of them were hearing her. The cord was pulling her
back. She wouldn't be able to fight it much longer. Mulder
was drawing nearer.
A thought went through her head. A jumble of relevant
information, yet she knew not what it was. Charlie seemed
to hear, to understand her, even if she did not. She prayed
it was so. She wanted so much to just stay, to be here with
the two people who meant the most in the world to her, but
she couldn't. She was losing her sight, her breath.
Mulder reached out to her.
*I love you, Mulder. I need you.*
She tried to speak to him, but he was already gone.
end part 9
Desideratum I: Lost
by Rachel Anton and Laura Blaurosen
part 10/11
Charlie was jarred awake from a dream about, of all things,
being abducted by aliens. Rena had turned on the light for
some reason. He rolled over, trying to reach for her, to see
what was wrong. His arms hit empty space and he realized.
She wasn't there. And he wasn't home.
His eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the sudden brightness.
The first thing he saw was Mulder, standing in the middle of
the living room, his hand hovering near the lamp. He was
completely still and staring blankly. His mouth was opening
and closing without sound. He looked like he was in some
kind of shock.
Charlie followed the direction of his gaze. The window.
The desk. Someone...God, it was Dana. It was fucking
Dana. Just standing there. No, not just standing there. She
was moving her mouth as if she were speaking but no sound
was coming out.
Charlie blinked and rubbed his eyes. Some kind of
hallucination. Or a dream. That's what it had to be. It just
didn't make sense. But when he looked again his sister was
still there, wearing, of all things, what looked like an ill
fitting Catholic School uniform.
He looked over at Mulder again. He looked as confused as
Charlie felt. And then, suddenly, his perplexed frown
shifted to the beginnings of a smile. Soon it was a grin. He
was happy. It didn't matter to him that the scenario made no
sense, couldn't possibly be real. She was here and that was
all he cared about.
"Scully..." His voice was a whisper, cracking on the
syllables of her name. All of the sudden Dana's words took
on a new clarity. Charlie could hear her loud and clear.
She
was reciting a list of numbers. He looked around frantically
for a pen and paper and upon finding them, started writing
everything she said.
Mulder, meanwhile, was staggering towards her with an
almost eerie slowness. It looked like he was walking
through molasses. When he finally reached her, he
extended his hand, intending to stroke her cheek. When his
fingers were an inch or two away from her face something
inside him seemed to break. He lunged towards her and
wrapped his arms around her, trying to squeeze her to him.
But as soon as his skin touched hers, she was gone. Just
gone. Like in those old Bewitched reruns. Twitch the nose
and disappear.
"Scully?" He reached his hands frantically outwards, trying
to find her again. But she was gone. He sank to his knees
on the floor and cried out. A horrifying wordless cry. And
then, "Scully! Scuuuulllllyyyyyy!"
Charlie walked quietly towards him and placed his hand on
his shoulder. "Mulder, she's gone. I don't...I don't know
what that was but..." Mulder's body shook with the force of
his sobbing.
"She was there...she was...there." His hands reached out
again towards the place where she'd been standing and
then
scrunched into tight fists. "Where is she? Where is she?
WHERE?!"
"I don't know but she was saying something, I think it might
be important. I...." Charlie drifted off when he realized
Mulder wasn't listening. He moved to crouch in front of
Mulder and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Mulder, stop it!
She's gone. Just stop it and listen to me." Mulder met his
eyes and Charlie was almost frightened by what he saw
there. But he had his attention. He pushed the paper he'd
been holding at Mulder. "This is what she said. I wrote it
down. I don't know what it means, it's just a bunch of
numbers. But it's something. It's gotta mean something."
Mulder shook his head. "What was it Charlie? I don't
understand. What if....what if it was...." He sank further
towards the floor and continued to cry. A ghost. That must
be what he was thinking and Charlie was somewhat worried
about that possibility himself. Strangely it was the most
plausible explanation. But it didn't seem right somehow. If
Dana were gone, he would know. God knows Mulder would,
too. She wasn't dead. She just wasn't. It was something
else. And Charlie was determined to figure out what.
xxxxxx
Tuesday
4:45 p.m.
She thinks I'm nuts. Insane. Little miss bug-hallucinator
thinks I'm crazy? I am NOT crazy. Just because I spent
time at that hospital doesn't mean anything. I wasn't half as
nutty as the guy who talked to his elbow like it was his dog.
I didn't belong there with those lunatics.
"Oh, she's *great*, she's *wonderful*," he says. Well,
dammit I am just as great and wonderful. I went to Yale.
For a little bit, anyway. Can't get into that kind of school if
you're stupid. Or crazy. At least I'm willing to go to bed
with him, give him what he wants, what he needs. Special
Agent Sister Scully in there's miss celibate, isn't she?
Probably needs to be married or something before she'll do
it. I mean, come on, she's the crazy one for turning
Mulder away that one night.
Anyway, she's not at all what Mulder needs. Mulder needs
a sexy temptress. A comforting mother. A woman who
will be anything he wants him to be. A woman who'll do
everything for him. I am that woman. Not her, she's got no
clue how to handle Mulder. I do. I know.
Jane hit the auto dialer as she peered through her camera.
She couldn't see him in there and the answering machine
kicked on after only two rings. She punched in Mulder's
code to retrieve the messages. There were two.
"Hello Mister Mudler, This is First City National Visa
calling to let you know that your account is now past due
and you are incurring late fees at this time. If you are
unable to mail your payment in the amount of $340, please
contact us at the toll free number on your bill so that special
arrangements can be made."
He was starting to forget to pay his bills? He was really
distracted. These messages were from two days ago as
well. Never even listened to them. She needed to get his
attention again. Get it off of Scully.
"Yeah, Mulder, this is Charlie. Listen, I decided on a
whim to go talk to the landlord at that woman, Jane's
apartment building. Something just didn't sit right with
me with her, she's kind of odd, I think. Anyway, I thought
I'd go talk to people in that building and I found out
something really interesting about how this woman got her
apartment. Seems there's a waiting list to get into this
building and Jane was like last on the list. Guy tells me she
plopped down 2 grand in cash to bribe the him plus her first
six months rent! Is that a little strange or what? I don't
know, maybe it's nothing, but I thought it was worth
checking out anyway. I'll try to catch you on your cell."
Jane's heart was racing now as she pressed the buttons that
would erase the messages. Fuck fuck. Was her whole
family this goddam annoying? She knew the landlord
wasn't gonna tell him anything, he didn't know anything
about her and was such a senile old man that he couldn't
hardly remember his wife's name. But something had to be
done about redirecting Mulder's focus. To her. And
quickly.
After a few moments, Jane had hashed out a plan. She
dialed his phone and left a desperate, pathetic message.
"Mulder, it's me. Mulder, I know you're busy looking for
Scully, but, I think...I think they're coming back. I just feel
it. It's going to happen soon. Oh, Mulder," she sobbed
quietly a few times, "I don't want to go. I don't want to go
again and you're the only one who can help me, Mulder.
Please call me as soon as you get this. *Please*."
She peeked in on the princess. She was sleeping. Or
passed out, one of the two, frankly she could care less at
this point. She needed to decide on her next course of
action. She was going to have to think of something.
xxxxxx
Wednesday, 7:45 p.m.
"Could be some kind of logarithmic formula."
"Or a coded matrix."
Mulder shrugged and rolled his eyes at Charlie as his
friends puzzled over the seemingly random numbers
scrawled on notebook paper. The two of them had stared
virtual holes in the paper in the two days since Scully's
vision had appeared to them. They'd taken it to a code
breaker and a numerologist. Finally Mulder had decided to
bring it to the Gunmen. Now Langly and Frohike were
discussing far fetched possibilities of meaning and typing
the numbers frantically into a computer and Byers was
sitting on the couch next to Charlie. Mulder was pacing.
Despite the dire nature of the situation, Charlie was amused
by Mulder's goofy friends. They were certainly an odd
bunch but they seemed to be genuinely concerned for both
Dana's and Mulder's well being.
Byers leaned over and spoke quietly to him when Mulder
had stalked out of ear shot. "How is he doing?" Charlie
shook his head. He didn't know how to begin answering
that. He'd never dealt with anyone in such a state.
"Bad, huh?" He nodded emphatically. Bad was one way of
putting it. "I figured as much. She's like his whole life, ya
know."
Charlie nodded. "It's hard to be around him for more than
five minutes and not know that."
"What the FUCK are you guys doing?!" Byers and Charlie
both jumped at the sound of Mulder hollering at Frohike
and Langly. They had been there for almost two hours and
Mulder was apparently starting to lose his patience. Charlie
had noticed that about him during their search. If things
didn't pan out quickly he would grow irritated and anxious
and start making loud demands of whoever happened to be
assisting him at the time. Except for Charlie himself. He'd
been strangely patient with him for some reason. And
Charlie had returned the gesture.
He wondered if Mulder was always this way when he was
working on an investigation. He doubted it, though. Dana
wouldn't have put up with that. And he figured Mulder's
frenzied pace had more to do with the nature of this
particular investigation than anything else.
He glanced over at the two geeks at the computer. They
looked startled and a little afraid from Mulder's outburst.
Mulder didn't seem to notice. He continued ranting.
"They're numbers. Fucking numbers. What the hell are you
doing with them? What the fuck do logarithms have to do
with Scully? You're just wasting time."
Charlie stood up and approached Mulder. He felt bad for
the guys. They looked like they were about to cry, for
Christ's sake.
"Mulder?"
"What? WHAT?!"
"They're just trying to help. Why don't you go rest for a
little bit." Neither of them had been sleeping much but he
knew Mulder hadn't even really tried in days. He was on
the verge of complete collapse.
Mulder gave him a dirty look but he also seemed to
acquiesce. He threw up his hands and stormed off to
another room in the endless labyrinth of the Gunmen's
garage.
When he was out of sight Frohike turned to Charlie and
grimaced. "He's a mess."
"I've never seen him like this. Even when she was sick..."
Langly added, shaking his head.
"What happened to his arm?" Frohike asked.
"Um...I'm not sure really." Charlie still didn't know for
certain if he'd done that to himself and even if he had he
was
sure it wasn't something he was proud of. "I got him to go
to the hospital though and have them look at it. It kept
bleeding through the bandage and shit."
"Wow!" Byers exclaimed. "You actually got him to go to
the hospital? When Scully's missing? I'm impressed. You
must be pretty persuasive." Charlie shrugged, still uncertain
about why Mulder seemed to listen to him and no one else.
He turned back to the computer and glanced at the
elaborate formulas and charts on the screen. He looked
down at the paper again and something occurred to him.
Something so obvious that it was laughable. So obvious
that it took him days to think of it.
"Um, guys, do you think maybe this could be a phone
number?" The first three numbers of the repeated series
of numbers were the prefix of a lot of telephone numbers in
the DC area. There were fifteen more numbers after those
three but maybe the next four were connected to them.
All three men turned and stared blankly at him for a
moment. Then Langly picked up a phone book. All three
of them ran to one of several computer stations and began
furiously typing commands into it. "We can do a search in
less than two minutes," Langly announced.
xxxxxx
"Ow!" Mulder scowled after kicking the sofa in the dark,
secluded room he'd found. "Shit." He sat down to take the
pressure off his now throbbing foot. He needed to think.
He needed to concentrate. He needed to be coherent. He'd
kicked something in hopes that it would wake him the fuck
up.
But now he had to sit and that made the situation even
worse. Things were so blurry. He was more nauseous than
ever and things that weren't supposed to move, like the
walls, were starting to. He had no idea what time it was,
what day it was, how long it had been since he'd last seen
her.
He buried his face in his hands and let out a groan of
frustration. He was useless to her like this. He couldn't
even focus his eyes anymore let alone think straight. His
eyelids drooped shut despite his efforts to the contrary and
he sank deeper into the cushions. He was slipping away.
Drifting, floating, drowning...
When he resurfaced he found himself in a darkened hall.
He moved past several doors, knowing that one of them was
the one he needed to open. They were all numbered. The
numbers. He looked for the familiar ones, the ones he'd
memorized from the paper. 307. Those were three of
them. He recognized them. He turned the knob of the door.
He stood in the hall for a moment peering at what was
behind it. Plants and trees and flowers and a strange
hissing sound that could have been a sprinkler system. She
was here somewhere. He could feel her.
He couldn't see her, though. He walked into the strange
room and shut the door behind him. As soon as it was
closed it disappeared into a sea of greenery. He was
scared for a moment. His only way out was gone. But it
was more important to find Scully. He had to find Scully.
He worked his way through the plants. For awhile as he
walked, plants were all he could see. They surrounded him
and suffocated him. He had to hold out his hand to push
them back and pass them. They hit him in the face and cut
his skin. He was reminded of a time, a place, a thousand
miles and a thousand years ago. A corn field. Looking for
Scully, calling for her desperately because he couldn't see,
couldn't see anything but plants. Always looking for Scully.
He opened his mouth to yell to her but no sound would
come. And leaves filled his throat.
Finally he reached a clearing. The plants receded and he
was faced with a statue. The lion. The same lion. From
his other dream about her. The lion fountain that had taken
Scully's face away.
"Scully!" He called and this time his voice worked. But she
didn't answer. She wasn't there. Or she couldn't hear him.
Some of the trees swayed and he caught sight of a glass
panel behind them. He ran to them and pulled them back so
that he could see. Through the glass panel he saw a
bedroom. A four poster bed. A...he tried to note the other
details of the room. He knew it was important. But he
couldn't focus on anything except the fact that on that bed
lay Scully.
He pressed his face against the glass trying to get a better
view. She was lying motionless, her eyes were wide open in
terror. Her arms were tied above her and she was wearing
the same pajamas he remembered from that Friday night
when he'd hurt her.
He pounded on the glass with his fist, called to her, but still
she didn't move. She was completely frozen. He looked
around for something to break the glass with but there was
nothing. He tried to break it with his uninjured arm but only
succeeded in breaking his wrist.
"Scully, can't you hear me? I'm right here!" God, her eyes.
They were still open, staring unblinking at the ceiling. And
there were cuts on her face. She was so thin. So pale.
"Scuuullleeee! God..." A rock. There was a rock. He
lifted it and found it to be surprisingly heavy. He took aim
and hurled it through the glass. It shattered. Thank God it
shattered.
He moved towards it but jumped back when he saw what
was starting to seep through the broken window. Blood.
Blood was running everywhere, flowing out of the room she
had been in, covering everything, covering him. He couldn't
move, couldn't breath. He was dying. She was dead....
He woke with a scream on his lips.
The pictures were there, it was vivid, it was real. The
number. 307. The garden. The glass wall. He'd seen it all.
He'd seen it recently. It was there. It was right fucking
there across the fucking street.
xxxxxx
"Daddy? Daddy, it's me, Janie," Jane spoke into her cel
phone, sitting in the parking lot of the bank. "Daddy, I just
tried to withdraw some money from my accounts and both
of them gave me an invalid account number message."
Jane eyed the clock on her dashboard nervously. She had
to get back to the apartment soon. No telling when Mulder
got her message and if he would come running over to her
rescue, she didn't need him taking extreme measures by
getting the landlord to open her door. Or breaking it in.
She felt a warm rush go through her as she envisioned
Mulder calling her name and busting down her door
desperately to her rescue. Scully was locked in the room
and she had the blinds shut in the garden, so he wouldn't
see. But, if he was worried enough, he might think she was
in that room. Her heart pounded a little. Come on, Daddy.
"But Daddy, I need that money," she pleaded with him in a
tone more appropriate for a fourteen year old. "My rent is
due tomorrow. Why did you close the accounts?"
He was not happy with her. He yelled to her over and over
how she wasn't getting any more money from him, ever.
Jane felt a real lump rise into her throat. He was cutting her
off again.
"But Daddy, I'll be more careful, I promise. I *promise*,
Daddy. Daddy you have to give me another chance. You
have to." Last time this happened, he said there would
be no more chances. She was terrified he had really been
serious.
"Daddy, why don't you come over tonight? Come over and
I'll make you supper and you can see my garden. It looks
so nice. That's why I've been spending so much. But I
don't have to anymore, really I don't have to."
"I don't give a shit about any goddam garden of yours.
That's what you've been spending your money and time on?
You're a pathetic loser, Jane Elizabeth. You've never
amounted to anything, and I'm not wasting any more of my
time and money on you."
Jane was trying not to cry out loud. He hated that. She did
not speak.
"I don't want to hear from you anymore," was all he said
and the connection was lost.
She sat in her car and cried. Hard. He was serious. She
was back to nothing again. No money. No family.
After crying for a while she dialed her apartment. No
answer and no messages on her machine. Fuck. He wasn't
looking for her yet. She dialed Mulder's and found no
answer or messages there, either.
Bitch. Fucking Bitch. This is her fucking fault.
Jane felt the rage build inside her like a wild fire. Soon she
was hyperventilating and thinking nothing else but how
much she hated Dana Scully. She threw the car in reverse
and floored it out of the parking lot, her tires squealing as
she rounded the corner.
Mulder is going to be mine, dammit. He's going to be mine
and I'm going to be happy and she's going to be gone.
Gone forever.
That's the only way it can be.
And in that moment, Jane decided that she was going back
home to kill Scully. It was the only way.
end part 10
Desideratum I: Lost
by Rachel Anton and Laura Blaurosen
part 11/11
The program was taking forever to track down numbers and
when they did show, the number wasn't one that made any
sense to them. One of the combinations was a fax machine
number, another was a disconnected pager number.
Another was a disconnected cellular phone number.
Life would have been too easy if it had been an easily
traceable number. Charlie was getting sick, he was getting
tired, nothing was fucking working. Just as he was about to
tell the guys to go wake up Mulder so they could get the
fuck out of there, he heard a scream. Mulder was already
awake. He stood up, trying to decide whether to go back
there and try to talk to him or not as the gunmen looked
back and forth at each other in dismay.
"I think maybe we should be..." Charlie was cut off by
Mulder's frantic entrance.
"Mulder, hey, um we kind of got somewhere with the
num..." Byers said somewhat cautiously.
"We've gotta go." Mulder grabbed his coat and started
heading for the door.
"Where are..."
"Jane's. She's at Jane's. She's at fucking JANE'S! We've
gotta fucking go!"
Charlie blinked in confusion for a moment. Then he realized
he had to go now or Mulder was going to leave without
him. He was halfway out the door already.
He chased him to the car, leaving the gunmen staring after
them in alarm. As soon as Charlie's door was closed,
Mulder took off, gunning the car up to sixty miles an hour
in about fifteen seconds.
Charlie gripped the dashboard nervously. He wanted to ask
Mulder what exactly made him so sure that Dana was at
Jane's. He'd had his suspicions about the woman from the
moment he met her but still, Mulder didn't seem to have any
sort of tangible evidence as far as Charlie could see.
He also wanted to ask him what exactly they were going to
do when they got to Jane's. They didn't have a search
warrant and she wasn't likely to let them go rummaging
around her apartment. If she was even home that was.
He wanted to ask him a lot of things. But he was actually
afraid to.
Mulder was a man possessed. He was weaving through
traffic at dangerous speeds, blowing red lights and stop
signs. He was squeezing the steering wheel so tight his
knuckles were bleached white. His eyes were wild and,
unlike usual, he was completely silent as he drove. Charlie
had grown used to his muttering and cursing, especially if
he
was in a hurry. But now he seemed too focused on getting
to Jane's to even speak.
But when Mulder jerked the wheel and drove up onto the
highway divider Charlie felt the need to say something.
Anything. He was starting to fear for his own life.
"Um...Mulder?"
"I had a dream." He said this as if it were an actual
explanation and was silent again.
"Oh...okay..."
"The same dream. With the lion and the plants. And there
were numbers was in this one. 307. It was Jane's
apartment. She was there. I saw her."
Charlie took a deep breath and tried to collect himself. He
was starting to wonder if Mulder hadn't come completely
unglued.
"Mulder...I dunno if...."
"She was dead. She was fucking dead, Charlie." They had
passed the worst of the traffic and Mulder hurled them back
onto the road. Tires squealed, horns honked and Charlie
smelled burning rubber.
"In the dream?" He was trying hard to follow this. He had
the strange feeling he might be recounting it to a psychiatrist
at some point.
"Yes in the dream!" Mulder shook his head. He was
growing agitated with the conversation. "Don't you get it?
We have to get there. God...we have to get there
before it's too late."
xxxxxx
Only six more blocks. She decided she would suffocate the
bitch and then dump the body some where far away. They
would never trace the body back to her. It'd be impossible.
It would make complete sense to have her body turn up in
some field or something after being missing for so long.
Even with the brilliant letter she'd written. Maybe burying
her on Daddy's property somewhere would be a good
idea...
She pulled into a spot on the street and bolted into the
building. She felt exhilarated. Mulder's gonna be so
miserable and I'm going to be there for him.
xxxxxx
"Jane it's Mulder. You there?" Mulder and Charlie looked at
each other in the hallway, outside apartment 307. Mulder
had been knocking for awhile. It was obvious she wasn't
home. He tried the knob but it was, of course, locked.
Mulder stepped back a few feet and turned to his side.
Charlie realized suddenly what he was planning on doing
and held up his hand. "Wait, don't bother." He took out a
credit card from his wallet and slid in the lock. After a few
jiggles the door was open.
Mulder raised an eyebrow and Charlie shrugged. "Just
something I picked up over the years."
They walked into the foyer of Jane's apartment, a place
Mulder had been on many occasions. He'd only been there
once since Scully had disappeared. He remembered an odd
feeling, a strange unease that time. It was nothing
compared to the sensations assaulting him now. He'd been
too distracted last time, too focused on other possibilities.
His instincts had been squelched by his overwhelming
emotions.
This time he felt her. He felt her so vividly he almost
doubled over from it. She was in pain. Oh God, she was in
a lot of pain. But alive. Alive. Alive. And close. So very
close.
He was aware that Charlie was talking to him as he walked
towards the back hall, as he checked every room in the
apartment. He was saying something about breaking and
entering, search warrants, back up. None of it made any
sense to him so he didn't respond at all, simply kept
searching.
Most of the doors weren't even closed. When he came
across one that was locked, he knew he'd found her. He
pounded his fist against the wood.
"Scully?" No response at all. She couldn't even call to him.
She must be so weak. "Scully are you in there? I'm coming
Scully. I'm coming to take you home." He remembered the
dream, the way the glass wouldn't break. The way he had
been too late. He prayed.
Please God. Please don't let me be too late.
Charlie tried his magic credit card trick but the lock on this
particular door was too elaborate. He turned to Mulder and
shook his head, frustrated. "It's not gonna go."
*Mulder, I hear you. Help me Mulder. I'm dying.*
Her voice was more clear than it had ever been in his head.
"Scully if you're near the door I want you to move back if
you can. We're gonna get you out of there, I promise." He
nodded at Charlie and the two men used the force of their
weight to break the door in.
She was there. God, she was there. All the air left his lungs
and he felt as though he'd been kicked in the gut at the sight
of her. He couldn't breath, couldn't think. For a moment he
was afraid he would be so paralyzed by his horror and
shock
at her condition that he wouldn't be able to do anything to
help her at all.
Then he saw her eyes. He saw them open and he saw them
light up when they caught sight of him. He saw them tear
up with joy and relief and he heard her make a tiny,
desperate, whimpering sound and he broke.
"Scully...oh, Scully." She was tied to the bed at her wrists
and her ankles. She was still wearing the pajamas, the ones
from that night, the ones he saw in his nightmares.
Beautiful shimmering gold that played off the red in her
hair, made it appear even more vibrant, more lush than ever.
Gold that was hanging off her skin like rags. Her body.
God she was so thin.
He moved towards her and started to untie her binding. He
saw that her arm was twisted, mangled. It had been
hanging
there tied in rope and it was probably broken in at
least two places.
He turned to Charlie who was still standing silently at the
door.
"Call an ambulance. Now."
xxxxxx
"Mulder," Charlie poked his head into the bedroom. He'd
called an ambulance and contacted the Bureau and police
force for some back up and then done a little exploring.
He'd discovered something that he knew might have
particular relevance to Mulder. An explanation. A possible
reason for this.
Dana seemed to have lost consciousness while he had been
gone. Her eyes were closed and she wasn't moving on the
bed. Her arm was hanging limply at her side. At her other
side was Mulder. He had climbed into the bed with her and
was laying next to her on his side, stroking her hair and her
face, still speaking to her even though he knew she couldn't
hear. Or maybe she could. Charlie wouldn't have been
surprised by anything at this point.
When he heard Charlie he glanced up. "Ambulance and
cops are on their way."
"Good. That's good." He looked back at Scully and wiped
a strand of hair off her bruised and bloody face. "You're
gonna be okay Scully. We're gonna get you out of here."
"Um...Mulder, there's something I think you should
probably see."
He shook his head vehemently. "I don't wanna leave her."
"Just for a second. I think it's important. It's just right next
door."
"Okay. I...I'll be right back Scully. You're gonna be okay.
You...you're okay." He leaned down and placed a kiss on
her forehead.
Charlie led him to the room in question and took a deep
breath. "This is um...a little disturbing to say the least."
He pulled back the closet door to reveal the shrine of
Mulder. The walls of the small enclosure were covered
with photographs of him in his apartment, on the sidewalk,
outside the Hoover building, in the diner across the street,
seemingly everywhere. And in these photos he was doing
seemingly everything. Eating, talking, sleeping. There was
a whole section that seemed to be devoted to him
masturbating. In the middle of the closet was a small table
with a collection of things that Charlie assumed belonged to
Mulder. There was a bottle of cologne, a comb, a hunk of
hair, a bunch of pages that looked like they were torn from
a journal. It was the most bizarre and upsetting thing
Charlie had ever seen. He felt violated himself just looking
at it. He wasn't sure why he had felt the need to show
Mulder. It just seemed like he had the right to know.
But as soon as he saw Mulder's reaction, Charlie began to
regret this decision. For a moment he was completely still
and silent. But soon he started to shake, almost shiver as if
it were suddenly very cold.
"Me...It's me..." Charlie felt like kicking himself in the head.
What had he been thinking? The guy was already close to
the edge.
"Come on Mulder, let's..."
"It's me. She did this because of me. She....Scully..." He
backed away from the closet and slammed the door shut.
"God....oh God." He moaned and clutched his stomach.
Before Charlie could move out of the way, vomit was
covering his shoes. Mulder crouched on the floor, hunched
over and emptied what little food there was in his stomach.
When the food ran out he started heaving water and bile.
"Mulder..." Charlie had no idea what to say. What the hell
was there to say anyway?
"I let her...I let her do this...let this happen...", he managed
to choke out before a dry heave fit overtook him.
"No. No you didn't. That's just not true. You stopped it.
You found her. Now come on and let's go back..." He was
interrupted by the sound of a door opening. "Mulder, the
ambulance is here. Let's go take Dana to the hospital."
Mulder nodded mutely and managed to stand up. They
went to the living room to tell the EMT's where she was.
"What the hell..." They heard the familiar voice as they
walked down the hall. Mulder started walking faster and
took his weapon from its holster.
"Mulder..." Charlie saw something not so great going down
here if he didn't stop it. As much hatred as he felt towards
Jane at this moment, he knew it wouldn't do anyone any
good if Mulder went postal and killed the bitch. Mulder
held his hand up to brush Charlie off and rounded the corner
into the living room. "Mulder you might..."
"Freeze!" Mulder's hands were shaking on his gun. Jane's
jaw dropped about a foot and she dropped the paper bag
she'd been carrying onto the floor. After a few seconds of
staring blankly like a deer caught in the headlights, she
turned around and grabbed the doorknob. "I said freeze
you fucking BITCH!" Charlie and Jane both jumped as
Mulder's gun fired a round through the door. It just missed
her and Charlie wasn't entirely sure he hadn't been aiming
for her head.
"Mulder...what...I don't understand..."
"Shut up." He started moving towards her, his gun still
pointed at her face. Tears started trailing down her cheeks.
"Mulder, why..."
"I told you to shut the fuck up." He was shouting but his
voice was broken. It sounded like he had gravel in his
throat. He reached into his jacket with his free hand and
took out his handcuffs. Charlie was simultaneously relieved
and, he realized, sickly disappointed. He wasn't going to
kill her. Just arrest her.
"Turn around and put your hands behind your back." Jane
obeyed this time. As he put the cuffs on her wrists she
turned her head around and Charlie could have sworn the
crazy bitch actually looked a little turned on.
"You're under arrest you fucking CUNT." He put his gun
away and shoved her, face first, into the wall. "You have
the right to remain silent you sick fuck and you better
fucking do it because if I hear one more word out of your
fucking mouth I'm gonna blow your ugly fucking face off."
He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head backwards.
"Do you understand?" She nodded as much as she could
given her position.
"You have the right to an attorney..." he continued with her
hair still in his hand. In the midst of his tirade/Miranda
rights, she mumbled something. Charlie felt his heart skip a
beat. Stupid, stupid bitch was going to get herself killed.
Mulder froze at the sound of her voice and let go of her
hair. "What did you say?" When she didn't respond he
grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face him. "I
said what the fuck did you say, cunt? Answer me!"
"I...I..."
"Answer me motherfucker!"
"I said that..." she was sobbing at this point and could barely
get her words out, "that I did it for you Mulder. I did it all
for you..."
No one in the room spoke for a moment. Her words hung
in the air like a poisonous gas. Wrong answer. God, wrong
fucking answer.
"Mulder.." Charlie moved forward in an attempt at a
preemptive strike but it was too late already.
"You...sick...fucking..." his hands were around her throat
before he finished. "CUNT!" They tightened and he
shoved her backwards into the wall again.
"Is that supposed to be funny? Do you think that's fucking
funny?!"
"I...Mu..." She started struggling and he rammed his knee
into her stomach.
"Shut up. Just shut up, you stupid fucking whore. Shut the
fuck UP!" Her face was starting to turn blue and her eyes
were bulging out of her head and Charlie realized Mulder
wasn't going to stop.
"Mulder, stop." He muttered lamely. He wished he could
have said it with more conviction. He wished he didn't want
to see the bitch just die already. But he had to think of his
sister here. She'd be in even worse condition if Mulder
ended up in jail for defending her.
"Mulder, you need to stop." He said it loud enough for
Mulder to hear this time but he ignored it completely. Jane
was becoming limp in his hands. He said the only thing he
thought might get through to him.
"Dammit Mulder, Dana needs you! You need to go to her
now." His hands loosened on her throat a little and he
actually seemed to be considering what Charlie had said.
"She needs you. She needs to have you with her, not in
prison."
Just then there was a frantic knock on the door. "Police,
open up."
"Come on Mulder, let them handle her. Go back to Dana.
She needs you."
His hands finally dropped completely and Jane sank to her
knees in a coughing fit. She looked up at Mulder and
managed to wheeze out, "I love you."
Mulder leaned down, almost as if he were going to kiss her,
and spit in her face.
end 11