Characters and rights belong to 20th Century Fox and Chris Carter.

This story is set sometime around Season Three.

Mulder awoke to the heavy scent of diesel fuel in the air and cold, wet concrete on his face. He lifted his head quickly, only to regret his sudden movement, as a wave of pain and dizziness hit his temple. The room he awoke in was dark and cold; he tried to piece together how he had gotten there. Mulder lifted his head slowly, careful not to onset another instance of pain. He reached up to the back of his head. Mulder felt something slightly wet and sticky on the side of his head-blood, from some sort of blunt force trauma. It was mostly dried now, but it explained the reason for the pounding in his temple.

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Mulder had spent the last couple of months in contact with a man who had claimed to have proof that had recently slipped through his hands in the form of a cassette; proof on the existence of extraterrestrials and the conspiracy to conceal the truth. Mulder didn't know who this man was, as he hadn't revealed his identity; but he had recounted several of the details of the casefile that only someone who had seen the information on the cassette could possibly know. Not only did he recount the information on the tape, but he provided details on the conspiracy to murder his father as well as his partner. However, instead of murdering Scully, the conspirators had mistaken Scully's sister for her, and had shot and killed her in her stead. When Scully told Skinner to make a deal with the smoking man in return for their safety, Mulder had had grudgingly agreed that it was the best move. However, if there was another way to get his hands on the information that both of them had lost so much for, Mulder was going to take it. He was hesitant about telling Scully about his contact at first; she was having a difficult time dealing with the death of his sister, though she would never admit it. Mulder knew that she felt responsible, even though she had no reason to.

One day when Mulder was finishing a report on a recent case, Scully came down with a package for him.

"Scully, it's not even my birthday." Mulder said jokingly.

Scully ignored his comment and handed him the package. "This came for you in the mail. Please tell me it's not a new addition to your video collection." Scully said, as she dropped the package in front of him.

Mulder scoffed and ripped open the package. Scully wasn't interested until she caught a glance of the side of the document Mulder was holding. She saw a woman, not much older than her, sprawled out on a floor, with blood around her head. It was a picture of Melissa, before she had been found by first responders. Scully walked slowly over to Mulder, her eyes watery, her mouth slightly opened. Mulder looked at her with sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Scully. I didn't know this would be in the package."

"Who is it from?"

"Scully-"

"Mulder, tell me."

"I've been in contact with a man who says he knows about the information on the tape. He also has information on the deaths of your sister…and my father. I didn't know whether to trust this man's credibility…I thought he just might be yanking my chain. I asked for proof that he's legit…I didn't know that he was going to send me this."

Scully blinked and turned away quickly, brushing a tear away and attempting to regain her composure.

"Has he set up a meeting?" Scully asked.

"He wants to…I wanted to make sure he was the real deal first." Mulder replied.

"Set up the meeting." Scully said.

"Scully, I don't-"

"Mulder, you need to set up the meeting. And I'm coming. I need to find the men responsible. If there's another way, if there's some way to bring these men to justice, we need to find it."

"Scully, if I set up a meeting, I don't want you coming with me. You've been through-" Mulder began to say.

"Mulder, I'm involved in this just as much as you. I've lost my sister and it- it should have been—Mulder, that bullet was meant for me. We almost lost our lives. I'll be damned if I don't catch the bastards who did this. Please."

Mulder nodded his head and looked down. "I'll arrange for the meeting."

Mulder had arranged for the meeting and had picked up Scully from her apartment later that day. They were meeting someone who went by the name of "Klonikin" late that Friday evening in an abandoned warehouse in Southern Virginia. They had staked the area out for a good two hours after Mulder's contact hadn't shown.

"We need to go in." Scully said.

"Alright, I'll check the area out. You wait here and I'll call you when-"

"I'm going with you." Scully said.

"Scully-"

"No, Mulder-"

"Dammit, Scully, listen. We don't know what's in there. If we both go in, we make ourselves more vulnerable. Let me check the area out and leave your phone on. Once I'm in, I'll call you and you can meet me. I know what you've lost, what we've both lost. But you can't rush in there- we have no backup and the Bureau doesn't know where we are. If something happens, we need to know we have a way out and a way to call for backup. I don't know this man. I don't know what he looks like or what his intentions are. He's shown that he has inside information…but I don't know. Something doesn't feel right about this whole situation and I'm not willing to put your life in more danger than it already is and has been. If you don't hear from me in ten minutes, something's wrong."

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Though dark, Mulder glanced around the room and found it to be empty. His temple was still pounding, but he had been able to at least stand without collapsing. Someone must have attacked him from behind. Scully wasn't in there. She hadn't followed him in there; he hoped she was safe and that she had alerted someone to their location. He reached around to his holster, but wasn't surprised when his gun wasn't there. As Mulder got to his feet, the door opened with a loud thud and four men quickly approached him.

Mulder staggered backwards until he hit a brick wall covered in some thick liquid behind him. He couldn't see any doors or windows from where he standing, except where the men were approaching him. The largest of the men, the one who towered at least four inches over Mulder and had at least 60 pounds on him, hit him roughly in the stomach with a crowbar, as two of the other men grabbed each of his arms and dragged him out of the room. They walked down a partially lit hallway- the only source of light were bulbs hanging down from the ceiling- every ten feet or so. They opened a heavy door and sat him in an old wooden chair, binding his hands behind his back.

Three of the men left the room, while one lingered, looking at Mulder with deep black eyes. He held the crowbar that the other man had hit Mulder with, limply in his left hand. The three men returned a moment later; two of them dragging a limp figure that was obviously unconscious. The figure had bright auburn hair and a petite frame…Scully.

The two men dragging Scully threw her down onto a wooden chair about ten feet away from Mulder and tied her hands behind her as they did with him. Scully bobbed her head up and down as she began to come to, as Mulder squirmed recklessly in his chair.

"What is this? WHAT IS THIS!" Mulder lashed out.

"Agent Mulder, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down, before you hurt yourself…or others." The larger man said, glancing at Scully. "You're going to answer some questions for us and if we like what you say, then there's no reason why you won't be walking out of here by sunrise."

"I don't know anything. I can't tell you anything." Mulder said, the pain in his temple throbbing.

"No, Mr. Mulder. You do know something. And you're going to tell us what you know because the alternative is not…favorable." The larger man said, as he grabbed a handful of Scully's hair and jerked her head back violently.

Scully gurgled a sound from her throat as her eyes shot open. The man released her hair and put his arm around her chest, grabbing her shoulder on the opposite side. He pulled a switchblade from his pocket and dragged it slowly across her face.

"I will kill you. I will kill you, you son of a bitch!" Mulder screamed, as he jerked violently against his chair.

"Now, now, Mr. Mulder," the man said, as he delicately glazed the knife over Scully's collarbone. "There's no need for threats—as long as we get our information, you will be on your way home with your partner…well, that's if she is fit to go home…"

"I don't have any information! My contact never showed- we know nothing! Now let her go!" Mulder yelled.

"I don't believe that you don't know anything, Mr. Mulder, you'll have to convince me." The man said, as he quickly flicked the blade across Scully's abdomen, causing her to scream out in pain.

"You son of a bitch!" Mulder screamed. "I can't tell you what I don't know!"

"This is just a flesh wound, Mr. Mulder. She won't be as lucky next time."

"What do you want?" Mulder said, clenching his teeth.

"I want the tape."

"I don't have it- you know that I don't have it." Mulder said.

Suddenly the door opened and revealed a mature gentleman in a suit, taking a long drag of a cigarette.

"I would think that you'd be smarter than this, Fox." CSM said, taking another drag. "I would also think…that with another life on the line, the life of someone you care for, would convince you to cooperate."

Mulder glanced at Scully as she squeezed her face in pain. Blood was trickling down to the floor, not rapidly, but Mulder knew that if he didn't give CSM the information he wanted, both of their lives would be in danger…even if Mulder didn't possess the information that the men thought he did.

TBC.