Chapter Three - On The Flip Side

They traveled by foot, and Chip claimed that it wasn't far, but Mulder wasn't sure if he believed that. Of all the things Mulder believed at that point, that they were on the way to meet with James Nightwoods was not one of them. He glanced at Chip's trusting face and felt the fraud; he was a skeptic dressed in believer's clothing.

Jimmy's life had been changed for the worse because of dinner plans. If only he'd stayed for dinner that night...it had all been so tragic that Mulder tried not to think about it, but as they followed Chip down the street the long ago events swam into sharp clarity to torment him once more.

Mulder's first clue that not all was right with the world came with his mother's tears as she stood next to his bed crying that night. As he first woke up he didn't look up at her face to notice that, and assumed that she'd just come to wake him because he'd forgotten to set his alarm for school. It soon dawned on him that it was still dark, and that even if it wasn't, his mother wouldn't cry over a missed bus.

He bolted upright in bed. "What's wrong, did something happen to Dad?" Even then he'd had the sense that his father's work was dangerous, and worry for him wasn't far bellow the surface.

His mother shook her head, then her face crumpled again. "Oh, Fox..." He stared at her, terrified for what seemed forever, but was in reality just a few heartbeats. At last she regained her composure. "There's been a terrible tragedy tonight, and I didn't want you to find out at school..." She reached for his hand, and hers was icy. "Sometime after Jimmy left here, someone broke into his house. They, um, they murdered Gloria-"

For a moment he wondered who Gloria was, then a sinking realization hit him. "Jimmy's mom is dead? What about Jimmy, is he okay?"

Teena said nothing. The longer she went without answering, the more scared he became that her next words were going to reveal that it had been a triple homicide.

At last she cleared her throat. "There was a lot of blood in the house, but they think it was all Gloria's. Fox, whoever killed her took the boys. Jimmy and Jordon are missing."

"But they'll find them," Mulder insisted.

"I hope so. We need to pray that they'll both come home safe and sound to their father."

Sitting in his bed, Mulder pictured captain Nightwoods alone in his home. The image broke his heart because Jimmy's father had been nothing but nice to him. It was a horrible injustice that such a nice man would lose his wife and both his children. Without another word, he scrambled out of his bed and dropped to his knees, eager to pray with his mother; he'd been taught that prayer was to be reserved for the important things, and nothing seemed more important right then. As Teena prayed aloud, he closed his eyes tightly and prayed that the brothers would find their way home.

But they didn't. At least not both of them.

On the second of November a farmer found Jordon Nightwoods by the side of a road. The child had clearly been beaten, and wore no clothes other than a pair of boxers and one dirty sock. Seemingly in shock, he said nothing when the farmer wrapped him in a horse blanket and took him to the hospital.

By time the captain arrived the doctors had established two things: Jordon thought that he'd been alone for the past three days, and whoever had held him had done more than beat the boy black and blue...he'd molested Jordon.

The latter thing was something that Mulder's parents only spoke about cryptically and in hushed tones, but he overheard and more or less understood what his friend's little brother had had done to him. It was why you weren't supposed to take candy from strangers, and watch out for strange vans; what the whole bathing suit lecture had been about when they were little.

Because Jordon had more or less blocked out his molestation and everything else about the three days he was missing, he didn't provide any leads about his brother's possible whereabouts. Instead of waiting to see if he'd remember anything a search team, lead by the good Samaritan farmer who'd taken Jordon to the hospital, combed the woods all around the area where Jordon had been discovered. Despite the efforts of many men and several dogs, no sign of Jimmy was uncovered.

For weeks after Jordon's return Mulder lived with the expectation that someday soon Jimmy was going to be found just like his brother. Recovering from the abuse would be hard on him - as it obviously was on Jordon - but he'd get through it. Mulder would help him as best that he could, because that's what friends did.

As the weeks rolled into months, hope faded. Not just Mulder's but everyone's. Adults didn't bother to whisper anymore when they spoke of the likelihood that a camper would someday discover Jimmy's remains. Jordon's insistence that his brother hadn't been with him was what made the adults so sure he was dead - he'd probably been murdered out of Jordon's sight, and hastily dumped somewhere. In stores the missing posters for the boy curled with age, and fliers for other, trivial, things began to obscure them.

When tragedy struck Mulder's own home the following year, he found himself dreaming every night that Jimmy was still alive. Somehow, in the dreams, Samantha and Jimmy found each other. They couldn't come home but they weren't alone, so it was a little better. He never heard adults suggest that they'd been taken by the same person, so he kept the theory to himself. It wasn't that he didn't want anyone to laugh at him, since he figured people would probably be kind, he just couldn't bear to see disbelief in adult eyes.

But Mulder hadn't prayed when Samantha went missing. At twelve he had already found the cynicism about religion that would stay with him for rest of his life.

And now, decades later, Chip wanted him to believe that Jimmy hadn't been kidnapped and murdered at all. Instead he'd created a new world for himself. But if Chip was proof that he himself could have come through, why hadn't he ever? Why let the captain and Jordon suffer, thinking him dead, for no reason? It didn't seem like the boy he had known, which is why he had such a hard time believing that Chip was really going to show them any sort of proof that'd back up his wild claims; believing him would meant he'd entirely misjudged his boyhood friend's character.

At the same time, it was to Scully's chagrin that Chip declined the offer to drive him to his imagined destination. It was easier for him to locate the spot on foot, or so he claimed. All she knew was her pumps had begun to cut into her feet by the second mile.

It didn't help her mood any when she realized that Chip was leading them into the woods. She began to wonder if humoring the kid had been a bad idea. What if he was friends with Philip North, or maybe Chip had been hired by him, and his bizarre story was an attempt to validate North's untenable account of what had happen between him and the John Doe? She recognized the area as one that had long been a source of local contention; plans to develop the area had been put on indefinite hold while the developer and the town fought over the appropriate use of wetland. As the foliage thickened, so did her worry build. The blankness of Mulder's face, which made it clear that he was lost in his own thoughts, did nothing to assure her that her fear was unfounded.

Apparently unaware of the mental states of either of his companions, Chip forged ahead, rarely looking back except to check now and then that they were following. "Almost there!" His distinct lack of empathy grated on her as much as her sore feet did.

They stopped abruptly in the middle of the woods, and it startled her when Mulder grabbed her arm and pointed. Training her eyes in that direction she caught sight of it. Although 'haze' wasn't what she would have called it, she could understand why North had called it that. The air was disturbed in a spot about eight feet high and ten feet wide. And it shimmered.

Her brother Bill had enjoyed giving Missy a hard time about her new-age beliefs, and had played a song for them one Thanksgiving to tease her. Lyrics to the song came back to her as she stared. I awoke and faintly bouncing round the room the echo of whomever spoke... then before and now once more, I'm bouncing round the room... they dance above me as I sink I see them through a crystal haze and hear the sweet sound bouncing round the never-ending coral maze...

She squirmed out of Mulder's grasp so she could take a better look at what she thought of as "the disturbance." When you got closer to it, it became clear that something wasn't right about it - you could see through the haze, but...what was on the other side shouldn't be. It seemed to be a building that wasn't supposed to be there. If you looked around it, you saw nothing of the building. Scully found that puzzling.

"There it is," Chip announced, as if they hadn't concluded that on their own already.

"So now what?" Mulder asked. "We walk through the haze and step out into a Washington DC in another world?"

The note of challenge in Mulder's voice wasn't lost on Chip. He gave Mulder a nervous smile before correcting him. "Actually, we'll step through and find ourselves in Chilmark."

"Chilmark is hours from here," Scully protested. "How could we get there from here?"

"Um, we'd take advantage of the properties of a tesseract -"

"I see," Mulder said evenly. "Will Mrs. Who, Mrs Which, and Mrs. Whatsit be joining us on our little adventure though time and space?"

Chip's eyes widened as if he'd been slapped. Taking pity on him, Scully made a halfhearted attempt to defend his idea. "Theoretical physics embraces the concept of wormholes-"

"Which would be conveniently connecting our world to one created by a kid who was kidnapped and murdered twenty-eight years ago." Mulder's tone made it clear that he was close to losing his temper, and she couldn't imagine why.

To Scully's surprise, Chip wasn't cowed by this the way so many other older adults had been. Instead he stood straighter, which was a body movement that reminded her of her younger brother standing up to Bill jr. "It's clear to me that you're not willing to take my word for it, so go on. Step through and see for yourself."

"No."

"Why not?" Chip asked quietly. "If I'm wrong, which you obviously believe me to be, all that will happen is you'll walk a couple of feet into the woods."

Mulder considered this, and then took a step forward.

Scully, overcome by a sense of foreboding, cried out, "Mulder, don't!"

He muttered "relax" before taking several calm steps forward into the shimmer. Then he vanished.

It was something she'd been dreaming about for years, even before she put any credence at all into the existence of "them": Mulder would step into the light then be sucked up into the heavens. It wasn't exactly what she'd just seen, but enough like it to make her shake all over.

The smile on Chip's face faded when he turned back to look at her. "Hey, no. It's okay."

"But he's gone."

"I know. He can come back any time he wants, and we're going to go see him now anyway, okay?"

After taking a shuddery breath she croaked out an agreement. "Yeah."

"It doesn't hurt or anything, if that's something you worried about." He took her arm, and before she quite knew it lead her out of one world and into another.

There was no tumbling sensation, nor did they slowly float down a long tunnel. Instead they stepped out onto the sidewalk of an average looking street. To her relief, Mulder was one of first things she saw. She would have run to him if her feet hadn't hurt so much.

He was standing in front of a house, staring at it, so he didn't notice them until they were right on top of him. The house looked ordinary, so she couldn't imagine why it had so thoroughly captivated his attention. One would have thought from the intensity of his stare that there were grays pouring out of it, but as best she could tell it was empty of people and aliens both.

"What are we looking at?" she finally asked.

"This is James' house."

"Ah."

"But they tore it down years ago." His voice sounded dazed. "How can it be here?"

Chip laughed. "You still don't believe me yet? The house was never torn down, here. Believe your own eyes, man."

"This isn't proof," Mulder insisted, yet it was clear that he was unable to tear his eyes away from the familiar looking structure. "Someone could have rebuilt it, to convince me."

Scully stared at him, and he saw a question in her eyes that he chose not to acknowledge: who would go to the trouble, and to what end? Instead he continued his diatribe. "For all I know, it's not even a real house. It could be a false front, like the movie sets of westerns."

The boy shrugged. "If you want to spend the time exploring the house until you're satisfied that it's real, we can. James doesn't live there anymore, and I'm sure he wouldn't care.

"But I thought you might prefer to meet Fox and Dana and see if you can save them, instead," Chip concluded.

"Our infamous doubles," Mulder muttered. "I suppose we should pay them a visit. Are they nearby?"

"A couple of blocks over. Their family lives near Mom and me."

Shaking off some of the dazzlement that'd clung to her since they'd breached the veil between two worlds, Scully repeated the boy's response in her head, and immediately formed two questions. The first was where did 'her brother' live if not with Chip and Samantha.

The second, however was the first she gave voice to. "Their family? Are you saying Fox and Dana have children?" The unfamiliar sounds of the names paired together made them feel like they had sharp edges on her tongue.

Mulder swung his head towards her, but said nothing before Chip answered.

"Two, a boy and a girl."

A sharp pain pierced Scully's chest, causing her to wonder fleetingly if that's what a heart attack felt like. Maybe it was the heartbreak of envy. Of course the other Dana had children. The fact that their name meant "mother" in Celtic practically decreed it. "Oh."

"I'd prefer that they not be orphaned while still so little," Chip added pointedly. "So if we're done here I'd like you to take a look at their parents before it's too late."

"What about James?" Mulder asked suddenly.

"He's not sick. One of the few people older than thirty or so who isn't." Chip squirmed under Scully's direct look. "Maybe it only seems like everyone is sick. It's definitely an epidemic, though."

"Okay, but that's not what was I asking," Mulder looked frustrated. "Trying to ask, anyway. When do we get to see our not-dead-after all childhood friend?"

"After you see Fox and Dana." The boy's calm facade was beginning to crumble, and his desperation was becoming readily apparent. "If you can't help them..."

"Let's go." Scully took Mulder's arm as her doctor's curiosity rose to the surface. "We haven't seen him in decades, so a little longer isn't going to hurt."

Mulder cast the empty house a bitter look she couldn't quite understand, but followed without any prodding.

Chip gave them a history of the disease while they finished their trek through the faux Chilmark. "It's strange, but no one was sick three months ago, then scores of people were all in the last couple of weeks. When they began to realize that there was an epidemic, they moved people to the biggest hospital in the city-"

"There isn't a hospital in Chilmark," Mulder interrupted. "It's too small to support one."

"Maybe in your world, but here Chilmark is a pretty big place. Anyway, it's just on the next street over."

"What about the rest of our families?" Scully demanded to know as they approached the hospital. "Dana and Fox's families, that is," she corrected herself.

"Unfortunately, the elder Mulders and Scullys have passed on. They all died some time ago." Chip looked sad to be talking to them about his grandparents.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Scully said. "But what about Bill and Missy? You haven't mentioned them at all."

Chip looked puzzled. "Who?"

"Your aunt and uncle, Dana's older siblings," Mulder told him.

"Dana was the oldest," Chip replied. "So I'm not sure who you're talking about."

"I'm not the oldest," Scully insisted.

"Dana was."

The answer wasn't satisfying, but it was the only one Chip seemed likely to give, so Scully shrugged off the feeling of unease that it left her with.

The hospital was small, and the halls were nearly vacant. Here and there a figure wandered by in nurses' scrubs or white lab coats, and through slices of doorway they could see still figures in beds. If anyone official objected to their presence, no one spoke up about it.

Chip bypassed all the other rooms, heading for one in particular. There were two people in room 109, one a man, one a woman. Mulder ignored the man at first, and went to stand over the bed of the woman. The familiar woman...

It was as if someone had made a Scully out of wax. Pale, smooth skin surrounded closed and smudged eyes. He could almost imagine that it was an excess of eye makeup, but his memory insisted it wasn't. The resemblance to how Scully had looked when he'd rescued her from the syndicate was too uncanny to be fake. Perhaps they could have reconstructed Jimmy's house from floor plans and photos, but there had been no photos of those incubating the virus that he knew of. And even if the syndicate were in possession of some, they surely wouldn't share them with anyone wishing to rid people of the virus.

Unless that too was faked, and part of a more elaborate set up. But for what? After most members of the syndicate had been murdered, there shouldn't be enough left of it to toy with him for no apparent gain...

He returned his gaze to the woman in the bed. This could have been Scully if he hadn't gotten to her immediately after she'd been spirited away to Antarctica. And if Chip was to be believed, it more or less was.

It was a tale of two Scullys, he decided. How different would his Scully have been if she'd lived a different life from the age of eight on?

"I don't think we can help, Chip," Scully said as she stared down at Fox. He too was still and pale. It was the only thing that kept her from wondering if it was a trick, like the time she'd mistaken something else for Mulder and had been slammed into a wall as payment for her folly. From a quick look Scully decided that he was the sicker of the two, but she couldn't quite figure out what fueled that assumption. If she'd asked Mulder, he'd have told her she must remember some of her experience, but she didn't ask him.

"But aren't you at least going to try?" Chip looked both annoyed and anxious. "There isn't anyone else who can help, you know."

"Chip..." Scully sighed and wiped her brow with the back of her right hand.

"If you don't help, everyone is going to die. You'd let them die? Even the children?"

"You said that the children weren't infected."

Chip shrugged. "If all the adults die, what do you think will happen to the kids? It's not like they're going to be able to care for themselves."

And the virus mutates into horrible monsters, a voice in Scully's head insisted. The memory of one such creature stalking Gibson flooded her mind. With no adults the kids were surely doomed to die, by starvation or at the hands of the virus.

"At least come back to the house and meet my niece and nephew before you decide not to help," Chip pleaded.

"You're trying to manipulate me," Scully accused.

"I know. Is it working?"

Scully shook her head slowly. She already knew that there was no way that she was going to leave wherever it was that they were without getting a glimpse of the children belonging to Dana and Fox.

a/n: feed(back) me!