A/N I am re-posting this fic after looking it over and realizing that it was in horrible condition. It was originally written in response to a challenge to write yourself into a fanfic. It is written in the first person, with myself as narrator. It takes place during a mission trip that I actually took to Washington DC in 2002. Names have been changed to protect the innocent (or not so innocent, as the case may be). It's pretty short and kind of fluffy, but I think it's worth reading. It's set back in season 9 when Mulder was gone but before Scully had given up the baby. Don't get me wrong, I love Mulder, but that time frame worked for the story I wanted to write.
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In a small church in Maryland, or as they like to say, "Across the street from DC," a group of about 40 teenagers and 12 adults were sitting down to dinner. Of course one group of girls, who all slept in a separate building, was late and someone had to get up to let them in the door, which was always kept locked from the inside. That someone, as usual, was me. But something wasn't right. I had known that these girls would be late, but instead of 5 there were only 4.
"Oh my god, Tanya, its Georgia! She's freaking out! I don't know what's wrong with her!" Sarah, one of my close friends, told me in a frantic voice.
"What's wrong?" Andrew, one of the adults, came up behind me. Sarah repeated her news about Georgia. "Let me go see." Andrew and I followed them up the stairs.
"We went to her room to tell her it was dinner time. She was spinning around in circles. When she saw us, she screamed and threw a shoe at us. Then she just started spinning again." Melissa, a girl I didn't know very well but generally liked gave us a quick summary of what had happened. When we got upstairs and to the room that Georgia shared with 9 of the other girls, none of whom were with us at the moment, we saw that instead of spinning she was now just kneeling on the floor, rocking back and forth and making varying noises.
Andrew rushed in and tried to shake her out of it. He had been in the room less than 20 seconds when he began spinning rapidly, just as the other girls had described Georgia doing. "Don't go in that room," a voice, as clear as day, said behind me. I didn't recognize who it was so I turned to look, but no one was there. Apparently, no one else I was with had heard it either. They had all entered the room, and to my horror, were all spinning frantically. Andrew, who had been in the room longer than the rest, had joined Georgia on the floor.
Terrified, I raced downstairs. I pushed the buzzer so that they would let me in the other building. Someone walked out of one of the bathrooms near the entryway and let me in. I followed him to the sanctuary that also served as our dining hall, but stopped short when the same voice I had heard before called out loudly, "DON'T GO IN THAT ROOM!" I tried to stop the person who had let me in the building, but I was too late. Everyone inside was spinning frantically.
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"The girl who made the call is right over there, agent Reyes," the young, inexperienced officer pointed her in my direction. The police had only laughed at me...walking into the building to find it completely empty. They would've had me arrested for making a prank 911 call, except that one of their officers disappeared when he went inside to investigate. I looked up...from my position on a bench in the entryway of the church I could see the dining room clearly. My companions had gone from spinning to rocking back and forth to lying on their stomachs with their foreheads pushed firmly into the ground. Occasionally one of them would twitch slightly; some would even bolt to their feet and start spinning again, only to start the whole process over. But the officers couldn't see them. I had been crying, now I just sat there, staring blankly at all of my friends, trying to figure out what was wrong with them.
"Hi Tanya, my name is Monica. I work for the FBI. Why don't you tell me what's going on." The woman sat down next to me without asking first. I liked her instantly...she wasn't judgmental or patronizing like the police had been.
"I wish I knew. Can you see them?" I pointed. "What's wrong with them? And why do the police keep pretending that they're not there?"
"No, I'm sorry, I can't see them. How many people are there?"
"Forty-five. And there are six more in the other building."
"In the other building?"
"Yes. My best friend is up there too. And down here there are dozens of people I know and love. Why aren't the police trying to help them? You really can't see them?"
"No, I'm sorry. Why aren't you in there too?"
"The voice...I don't know whose voice but a voice...told me not to go in."
Another agent arrived at this time. He was a bit taller than Monica, and probably a bit older as well. He had a sour look on his face, as if he had been called out here for no good reason and was eager to get home again. "What is going on here, Reyes?" He asked.
"Tanya, this is my partner, John. John, this is Tanya. She says that her friends are in that room, and that they are doing some very weird things. A voice has been telling her not to go into the rooms she claims that these people are in."
"This is ridiculous. Go home, kid. I'm surprised they don't arrest you now for wasting all our time."
"But John, one of the policemen who went in there didn't come out again." Monica
"He's standing in the middle of the room, staring strait up at the ceiling counting something." I said matter-of-factly.
"This is silly. I'll go in there myself. The officer is probably just bored and looking for a few good laughs." John headed down the hallway and entered the sanctuary. I watched as the expression on the woman agent's face changed dramatically. Then she started chasing after him.
"No wait!" I shouted. Then I heard the voice again. "Don't go in there." But it wasn't talking to me. It was talking to Monica. "If you love him, don't go in there!" she stopped abruptly. Then she looked at me. "Take me to the other building you say this is happening in," she commanded.
"Can you see them now?" I asked.
"Yes."
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The wife of the policeman who had entered the room had arrived. She nearly fainted when she looked in the room where her husband was now spinning frantically in circles again. She could see him too. The other agent, John, was kneeling, rocking back and forth. Monica could see him and all of the people from my team in that room. In the other room, however, she couldn't see any of them.
The other police officers had gone home. Monica, the officer's wife (Mrs. Collins) and I tried everything to get the people to come out of the rooms. We called for them, threw things at them, everything. Nothing helped. And every time we tried to enter one of the rooms, the voice stopped us. It was starting to get late.
Monica called another agent friend of hers who had just had a baby and was currently on leave from the FBI.
"Tanya, this is Dana Scully." I shook the woman's hand as she exited her car. Then she pulled her son out of his car seat in the back. "No baby sitter today?" Monica took the child from Dana and she followed us inside.
"Can you see them?" I asked her
"No, sorry. But agent Reyes explained what was going on. I think what you need to figure out is how come the three of you can see them but no one else can. What do you guys have in common?"
"We were trying to figure that out ourselves. We all three know people in this room, and in the room where neither Mrs. Collins nor I know anyone we can't see anyone." Monica tried to explain her theory to Dana.
"But the other officers know my husband, and none of them could see these people." Mrs. Collins presented a good point.
The baby started to fuss and Monica gave him back to his mother. She pulled a pacifier out of her purse and the child accepted it willingly.
"And what about you, Tanya? What do you think?" Dana asked me. I couldn't help but remember what the voice had said to Monica. 'If you love him, don't go in there.'
"I have a theory, Monica, can I talk to you alone for a second?"
"Sure." She followed me around the corner of the building.
"Do you love your partner, agent Doggett?"
"What?"
"Well, upstairs is my best friend, Georgia. And downstairs is Elizabeth, my mentor and counselor for three years. I love them both to pieces. And Mrs. Collins undoubtedly loves her husband; she's tearing herself apart over him. And when you wanted to follow your partner into that room, the voice said to you "If you love him, don't go in there.""
The agent was quiet for a few seconds. "So you're theory is that we can only see the people in the room if we love someone in the room?"
"Exactly. Do you love agent Doggett?"
"Well...Of course I love agent Doggett. We're partners, best friends, and...I've never told anyone this before but...I've been in love with him for a long time." She almost seemed relieved to have said it. "So we know why they're in there but we still don't know how to help them." She was about to say more when we heard Mrs. Collins screaming.
"What is it?" Monica asked as we ran back around the corner of the building. One of the people from my team named Aaron, a boy I didn't know very well, had left the room and was walking in a trance towards Mrs. Collins. He looked as if he meant to hurt her, but, as we watched, he collapsed right before our eyes. Agent Scully approached him cautiously, her baby having fallen asleep and resting peacefully in his car seat, and placed two fingers on his neck.
"His heart's stopped." She was prepared to start doing CPR, and would've except the voice stopped her. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." It was the first time she had heard this voice. As she stepped back in horror, a thin green mist started leaking from Aaron's nose and partially opened mouth.
--Later at the morgue—
"Time is twenty two forty three, subject Aaron Johnson. Time of death was twenty-two ten. No physical cause of death is apparent, however tox-screen came back positive for a strange chemical. This chemical cannot be found in any current medical databases, however it appears to be hallucinogenic in nature. The green gas emitted from his lungs appears to be harmless, although it does contain trace amounts of this chemical." Agent Scully speaks into her tape recorder upon completion of a rushed autopsy. She had been hoping to find some clue that would help us help our friends, however she had come up empty handed.
--Meanwhile at the Church--
"Are you listening?" The voice spoke again. Apparently neither Monica nor Mrs. Collins could hear it this time.
"Yes," I answered out loud, causing the other two to look at me funny.
"I plan on killing the rest of them, too, you know. That boy was just a warning."
"What do you want from us?" I screamed.
"When the red-headed agent comes back, send her into the first room, the one upstairs. Then maybe I'll consider letting your friends go."
My knees felt weak; I leaned back against the wall and sank to the floor. "Did you guys hear that?" I asked.
"No, Tanya, what is it?" Monica took a step towards me.
"He says he's going to kill the rest of them if we don't give him Agent Scully.
"What does he want with her?"
"I don't know, he didn't say."
"Maybe we should ask him." Monica stood up, looking at the vent in the wall above her head. Reaching up, she put her hand over it and felt the cool air blowing. Then she pulled a chair up under the vent and screamed into it, "What do you want!"
He answered, but his voice was not coming from the vent. It was inside our heads. "I want Agent Scully."
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Agent Scully returned from the morgue with no helpful news. Monica, Mrs. Collins and I had all been talking and we had made our decision.
"Dana," Monica began, "He spoke to us again. He told us he'll let them go if you go into the room upstairs. We want you to do it."
"What does he want me for?"
"I don't know." I spoke up. "But I believe that because you are aware of what's going on that you won't be affected the same way everyone else was. And we'll be watching. We think he's in the building somewhere. We'll find him and make him let you go too. It will be easier once agent Doggett is here to help."
Agent Scully said nothing. But she nodded quietly. Then we all went upstairs. Scully handed the baby to Monica and slowly stepped into the room. As soon as she was inside, the voice spoke in her head. It drew her towards the wall, where she opened a secret passageway and entered. At that very moment, everyone in the room collapsed and we were able to go in. Some of them were coughing up green liquid, some sort of drug that had caused their weird behavior. But they were fine. Downstairs the same thing was happening. Monica ran into the room and just about threw herself at her partner. She helped him sit up and held him until his head cleared.
Agent Doggett was filled in on the details of the problem as he, Monica and I raced up the stairs. Mrs. Collins, her husband, and the rest of my team were downstairs. Mrs. Collins was watching William, and everyone else was recovering.
We entered the room Agent Scully had been in and found the same secret door she had opened. The tunnel twisted around the building and eventually led into the attic. The man, who obviously had some serious psychic ability, was making Scully levitate with his mind as he stood in a trance, chanting some strange language. Other women, all with red hair and about Scully's same age, were scattered around the room. They all appeared as though they had been killed the same way, with a metal rod through their chest. As we watched, the man lifted another metal rod with his mind and made it hover above Agent Scully. Monica drew her gun and aimed it at the man. But he knew we were there; he lifted a metal canister mentally and broke it open, causing the same drug he had sent through the building's ventilation system to release in our direction. It was clear and odorless until it touched us, then it turned that sickly green color. Monica and her partner were down, but I had been standing behind them and covered my face. I picked up her gun and fired without thinking. The man collapsed, dropping Agent Scully in the process. She was wide-awake but had been paralyzed by his mind. Now she rolled over and crawled to where I was. Monica and Agent Doggett hadn't received enough of the drug to do them any harm, and soon all four of us were able to head back downstairs.
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Later that night, as Reyes drops Doggett, who was still not quite well enough to drive, off at his apartment, She watches him walk up the stairs.
"John, wait!" She calls, rolling down the passenger side window with a button on her door.
He turns to face her. "Yeah?"
"Do you...want to go get some coffee or something with me instead? You know, to process or something?"
"Yes, I'd like that." He answers. He gets back in the car. She extends her hand to him and he takes it. They hold hands the whole way to the coffee Shop.
End