Author's note: Hazzah! Another update! Remember how I said these would come spaced out but in little chunks? Well, I was right in my reckoning. I hope you are still interested, because it's starting to get good!
If you're a music fanatic like I am, I have a small song suggestion for this story. Not necessarily this chapter, though. The song that always comes to my mind when I think of Scully is "CrushCrushCrush" by Paramore. Don't ask me why-I don't know. It seems to suit her. Here's the url: .com/watch?v=ei8hPkyJ0bU Paramore is such a versatile band, it can go with any fandom you choose!
Enjoy!
11. Believe What?
"I take it your partner has heard and believed the gossip about us going around town," Alice said, as she drove through Forks.
"Gossip?" Scully chose to play stupid.
"About how we live all alone in the woods and have incestuous relationships with each other?" Scully wasn't surprised to hear a hint of bitterness in the girl's voice.
"I don't think anyone calls you incestuous," said Scully indifferently, "but he probably has heard some unfavorable reports about your family. He drove down to the La Push Indian reservation today to investigate the second murder in Forks."
Just as she thought it would, the name 'La Push' struck a nerve in her companions. From the backseat Scully heard Jasper mutter something violently under his breath that sounded uncannily like profanity. Alice was a different matter: instead of reacting with cussing, she froze, her hands clenched around the steering wheel. "La Push? Why did he want to investigate at La Push?"
"Well, the second murder was committed on the edge of the reservation, but still technically on Forks property. Chief Swan still had to investigate it. We thought we would question some of the residents of La Push for any information about the murder."
"That was a good idea for the case, Dana," said Alice, "but not such a good idea if you wanted to find out about us. The La Push people hate Carlisle."
"But, why is that?" asked Scully. She did her best to hide her excitement; she had thought the Cullens would avoid this topic rather than introduce it themselves.
"I'm not really sure..." Alice looked thoughtfully out over the town, her speed now matching that of the other, less flashy cars around her. "I've never really asked Carlisle about it, but whatever the rumors are, they're false. Carlisle has never done anything to anyone at La Push."
"But then why would they take such a strong disliking to him, if he's never done anything to make them suspicious?" Scully knew Alice was most likely lying. But if she was, she was a superior actress.
"Like I said, I've never asked him about it, but I do know that the Indians on La Push cling to their old ways pretty hard. Maybe they're just repulsed by Carlisle's pure caucasian looks."
Racism? That was a possibility, Scully knew, but it didn't line up with the fact that Billy Black was obviously good friends with Chief Swan. "And you say your family has only been here for two years?"
"I never said that," said Alice, turning sharply to look at Scully.
Crap. "Well, that's what I heard from an officer at the police station," Scully lied smoothly, hoping her miniscule grimace didn't give her away. What a seriously amateur mistake to make, betraying the fact that she had investigated the Cullens' backgrounds!
"We moved down here from Alaska two years ago, yes," Alice confirmed. "Esme loves small towns, so we moved from one hole in the wall to another. Personally, I like Washington a lot more than Alaska, although both of them are gorgeous."
"And the people at La Push have disliked your adopted father from day one?" asked Scully, puzzled.
"Almost from day one. They refuse to go to the Forks hospital, now, because of Carlisle. They just stubbornly choose to hate us, and since they've treated us that way for two years, I can't say the feeling isn't somewhat mutual." Alice bit her lip after her last statement, and Scully knew she realized she might have said too much. The girl spoke up to diffuse the tension in the car. "Where are we taking you, again?"
"The police station, please," answered Scully.
"We're nearly there. And your partner's waiting for you, with a car?"
"I hope so."
They were silent until Alice pulled the BMW up to the curb in front of the police station. Scully slung the strap of her bag over one shoulder and opened the car door, stepping out onto the road. "Thank you again for the ride," she said, but the thanks fell a little weak after their previous conversation.
"Of course," Alice replied, and flashed a small smile at Scully. "Don't worry, Dana. I'm positive this will all work out for the good, in the end."
Nonplussed, Scully shut the door and watched the bright red car pull away, its tires squeaking on the wet pavement. From within the convertible she could see Jasper move from the backseat to the front, and by the way his head was turned she assumed he was talking to Alice about their encounter with the FBI. Despite their civil treatment of her, Scully hoped her brief questions had stirred some uncertainty in her suspects.
Scully had just moved to face the entrance to the station when Mulder burst out of its two front doors, nearly missing the first three steps of the cement stairs in his haste to meet her. "Scully!" he said, his voice one decibel below a shout, "I thought-you said-that's one of their cars-"
"My car broke down just outside Forks, as I was going to the Cullens' house," said Scully, holding out a hand to stop his panic. "Alice Cullen and Jasper Hale were-well-I don't exactly know why they were skipping school, but I guess they were on their way to their house when they saw me on the side of the road. They offered me a ride, and I figured I might be able to derive some answers from them on the way back, so I accepted."
"But, then, when I called you..." said Mulder, his face white. "They heard me, didn't they?"
"Yes, of course. What's going on, Mulder?" As Scully took in the rest of his appearance, she felt her mouth fall open. "And why are you completely soaked?"
"I fell off a cliff," Mulder said, waving one hand impatiently, "but, Scully, I have to tell you what I learned down at La Push."
Scully's heart palpitated. "You fell off a what?"
"I'll tell you everything, but we've got to go somewhere private. Let's go to my car."
Scully nodded and followed after him, her eagerness to know the details of Mulder's morning subduing her dread at the new theory he had undoubtedly cooked up.
"So I thought I would have to do some serious arm-twisting to get any information out of the Quileutes," Mulder said, shrugging out of his sopping jacket and wringing it out over the side of the car, "but it turns out that I got lucky." Scully twitched, her hands itching to take the paper towels from between the front seats and try to dry up the water covering the rest of her partner. Since she knew it would be a lost cause, she stilled herself and concentrated on Mulder's monologue. "Right on the outskirts of La Push, not too far from where Mrs. Brooks was found, I came across a teenage boy of about thirteen or fourteen meandering along the road. I asked him if he wanted a ride, and he said yes and got in the car. Well-"
"Wait," Scully inerjected indignantly, "do you mean to tell me that after you nearly had an aneurysm when you saw me with the Cullen kids, you picked up some teenager off the side of the road?"
"That is an entirely different circumstance," said Mulder, "and you know it."
"What if this Quileute boy was just part of the setup, Mulder? Maybe he was there as a lookout, to make sure we didn't come back to the reservation?"
"Now who's letting their imagination get away with them?" laughed Mulder. "Are you going to listen to my enthralling tale of fantasy and intrigue, or not?"
Scully did her best not to pout, even though she knew it would tie Mulder up in knots. "Fine, go ahead."
"Thank you," sniffed Mulder theatrically, his mischief poorly concealed by his haughty expression. "As I was saying, this Quileute boy introduced himself as Seth Clearwater, and it so happens that he's the son of an elder in the Quileute's tribal council. I used a few inconsequential lines to get him talking while I drove him to his friend's house. He was a really easygoing kid, and pretty laid back about his whole tribal heritage. He was willing to tell me quite a lot about the old Quileute superstitions-since he doesn't believe them, obviously."
"Kids these days," Scully said.
"I could tell he got a certain thrill out of telling an outsider about the legends his people hold very close to their hearts," Mulder said. Scully heard a trifle of guilt in her partner's voice. "Naturally, I wanted him to spill the beans, so I just prompted him when it was necessary. The Quileute legends...they're definitely something else, Scully."
"I imagine so."
"Seth told me about the spirit warriors, the tribe's ancestors who could supposedly turn into gigantic wolves at will. Those were his favorite stories, because he talked about them the most. He doesn't know it yet, but he's actually very much into his heritage." Mulder smiled. "But one thing kept reappearing in his stories, some people he called 'the tribe's enemies.' I asked him what he meant by that, and he said he really shouldn't tell me. I didn't push him, but I let him know how interested I was. And I was interested; that kid can tell a story."
Scully couldn't resist. "Mulder, I can't believe you coerced a fourteen year-old boy into betraying his tribe."
"Here's where it gets uncanny," Mulder continued, as though he hadn't heard Scully-which wasn't so far off the mark, Scully knew. "Seth finally caved and told me what the 'enemies' were that he referred to. He said, 'You may not believe this, Mr. Mulder, but those ancient enemies of ours are still around, so the elders say.' I knew he wanted me to ask him what he was talking about, so I did.
'Well,' Seth said, 'Back about eighty years or so ago, some of our age-old enemies, the ones our ancestors fought, returned to hunt on our lands. But these enemies were different, so the legend goes. When Ephraim Black, the spirit leader at the time, went to challenge them to a fight, the leader of the coven stepped forward and offered a truce. The leader said that his coven wasn't like the others of his kind, and that they would not hunt on our lands. After a while of peace between our tribe and theirs, the coven moved on to another hunting ground.' Then Seth looked at me and said, 'The thing is, Mr. Mulder, the council thinks the coven's moved back here, after all this time.'"
"Mulder," Scully interrupted again, her dread plain in her voice, "please don't tell me-"
"Listen, Scully, listen! I had to ask Seth why and how his council could think that the same enemies could come back after eighty years. After all, weren't they just humans too, but from a rival tribe? Seth laughed at me and said, 'Oh, our enemies have never been human, Mr. Mulder, or so my dad says. We're supposed to protect humans from our enemies. No, according to legend, our enemies have always been the Cold Ones.'"
"Mulder, you don't honestly think-"
"And what do you think the Cold Ones are, Scully?" asked Mulder, all trace of a smile gone from his face. "More importantly, who do you think the Quileutes are certain the Cold ones are?"
"I don't want to know," Scully said, glaring to hide her sudden unease.
"You do, trust me. It's juicy," Mulder said, still unsmiling. "The Quileutes refer to vampires as the Cold Ones. And they think-"
"Mulder, this is so far beyond ridic-"
"They're positive the Cullens are vampires. And they think Carlisle Cullen is the same leader from over eighty years ago. Only now...they think he's broken the treaty." Mulder looked at Scully, his eyes unreadable in the overcast lighting of the rainy sky. "The crazy thing is, Scully, I'm not so sure they aren't right."