CHAPTER TWELVE:
DANIEL WATERSTON'S BEACH HOUSE
5:30 A.M.
With the palm of his hand lying flat against the weathered wood, Mulder leaned heavily upon the outside railing of the beach house's wrap around porch. Bound tightly in a navy blue sling, his broken arm was pulled up snuggly against him, throbbing like the percussion section in an orchestra. Beat after beat of kettledrum pain pounded tympani throughout his swollen extremity. Its crescendo, partnered with the cymbals clanging within his collarbone, marched into his head like a '101 trombones in a big parade'. To say that Tylenol just wasn't cutting it any longer was an understatement of monumental proportion.
"SON OF A BITCH!" Mulder yelled out into the blackness, his voice echoing back to him on the turbulent waves of pounding surf. Barely had he gotten the words out of his mouth, when Skinner was at his side.
"Agent Mulder."
"Sir."
"There's no indication that Dr. Waterston, or anyone else for that matter, has recently been in this house. The structure and grounds have been thoroughly searched. The neighbors, up and down the street, have all been woken and questioned...There's just nothing to make us think he's been here."
Watching the smallest traces of light spread across the horizon, mellowing the night's blackness into dawn's murky gray, Mulder stared straight ahead. Finally, as though forcing the words out, he spoke.
"I know. But I also know that he's here, Sir. I feel it. Scully's nearby. I just...can't seem to clear my head enough to hear her."
Skinner leaned in more closely, his voice hushed and secretive as he asked, "Hear her? Mulder, I thought you'd lost the ability to read minds...I thought, after your operation, that ability was no longer present."
"It's not...at least not in the way that it was before. You're safe with me, Sir, no more unauthorized treks through the secrets of your psyche," Mulder murmured, turning to lock eyes with his superior, an unspoken moment of clarity between them.
"But with Scully, Sir. There are moments...um...let's just say there are times I can hear her - not in the conventional sense - not her thoughts. But I can touch her mind in such a way that I can feel her presence."
"That must be seductive, Mulder, quite intimate-"
"Yes, Sir, it is. But it's a moot point. I don't know where she is," he sighed, his eyes once more drawn to the ocean and the waves enticing slide against the beach.
With his good hand, Mulder slapped an impatient staccato beat on the railing.
"Sir, I'm going to take a walk and clear my head. I won't go far, just down the beach. I have to get into Daniel's mind. I have to figure out where he's got her. I know, with all certainty, that Scully doesn't have much time left."
Acknowledging Mulder's need for solitude, Skinner replied, "Agent Mulder, I'm pulling everyone out of the house. I'll leave a couple of people parked up front at the community entrance to make sure Waterston doesn't arrive after we leave. But I'm going to get the rest of the team searching the area, just in case he's gone somewhere else. Don't wander off."
As Mulder descended the outer stairway onto the sandy beach, he didn't hear Skinner's final words. His mind was already lost to the sea, to the gulls' plaintive cries, to the surf's bubbling foam, and to the sunrise that would come no matter what. And it was searching and seeking for the light that always flickered within, the light that was Scully.
5:35 A.M.
"Daniel...where's Maggie? Where's your DAUGHTER?" Scully repeated, terror creeping up the back of her neck to grab with a vice-like hold around her throat, threatening to suffocate her.
"Dana, she's fine. She's just sleeping...I gave her something...in her coffee. Don't worry; I only want what's best for Maggie," Daniel said, indicating the front seat of the car where Maggie was stretched out in peaceful slumber.
Pressing her face against the driver's side window, Scully was relieved to see the steady rhythm of Maggie's chest as it inhaled, and exhaled with a steady flow. Just as she began to turn around, she noticed her gun, slipped under the driver's seat. She could see the black barrel barely visible against the dark floor mats, laying just below Maggie's hand that dangled over the seat edge.
Taking two cleansing breaths to steady her frayed nerves, Scully turned to Daniel.
Although it was no longer pitch black, it was still difficult to see anything around them. She and Daniel appeared to be standing in an open carport situated beneath a house. Directly in front of her was the ocean, the waves breaking against the shore. Behind her was a large white gate, tightly closed. Daniel had locked it after he'd parked the car. For all practical purposes, they were fully secluded, hidden from any outside prying eyes.
"Please...take off the tape. Unbind my wrists, Daniel. So...so we can talk, and you can tell me why you went to all this trouble," Scully entreated, making every effort to sound calmer than she truly felt.
"Dana, I want to believe you'll listen to me. I want to believe that we can have a civilized conversation, that you will understand the purity of my motives, and be able to accept your place again in my world. You have no idea, my sweet Dana, how much I long for those things."
"Daniel, I just didn't understand. I didn't realize how much you loved me, how much you were concerned for my welfare. I had no idea," Scully uttered, watching his body language, trying to interpret his behavior.
"Let's face it. You know me, Daniel. Ten years ago, I was stubborn and young, too headstrong for my own good. And look what it's got me...no life to speak of. My sister...my sister's dead because of my dogmatism. My family doesn't understand what I do; they blame me for Missy's-"
"Oh, Dana. I'm sure that's not so. You just have to understand, like everything in life, there are consequences for our actions. Regrettably, Missy's life was penalty for your rebellious ways."
Scully cringed at those words. How many times had she considered them herself, and now to have them thrown back at her with such disdain, with so little regard for her feelings, was enough to make Scully forget her resolve.
Giving herself an internal pep talk, she silently mouthed, 'Whatever it takes, Agent Scully. Whatever it takes.'
Noting that Daniel's stance had become more casual, that he no longer held himself straight like a board, Scully continued.
"I know, Daniel. But there have been other things as well. I was abducted...given cancer. I had a daughter, sacrificed on the altar of my disobedience. There is nothing in my life...nothing, Daniel. And there hasn't been...since I left you," Scully whispered, looking up into Daniel's eyes, her posture, intentionally submissive, her words, carefully chosen.
Reaching into his pocket, Daniel removed the pocketknife. Snapping open the blade, he gently stroked the gleaming, metal surface.
"What about Mulder? What about your partner? I saw you two together...more than once. He's obviously in love with you," Daniel murmured, nicking the fleshy tip of his thumb with the knife's sharp edge. As he watched the pinprick of blood, bubble and pool into a drop that slid down his hand, Scully shuddered.
Forgive me Mulder, she thought, formulating her reply.
"Daniel. Please...you know me. Mulder's someone who believes in little green men, who chases lights in the sky. He believes in vampires and the Boogieman, and government conspiracies that will supposedly jeopardize the human race. He's brilliant, but not all there."
"But he's also your lover, Dana. Don't deny it; I know what I saw. I know the love Mulder feels for you. I saw it in the man's eyes," Daniel hissed, walking up behind Scully, securely grabbing onto her arms, and pulling her backward against his chest.
Scully yelped in pain, the deadened nerves of her arms, once more alive as he forcefully held her. His knife seductively slid against her throat, the small traces of his blood trailing a thin sliver of red across her neck like a ruby red choker.
Swallowing the bile that threatened, Scully calmly whispered, "Do you remember what it was like before your divorce. You knew that you needed to leave, and yet there were commitments, responsibilities you had to consider, things which held you back."
"Yes, I understand responsibility," Daniel whispered, his breath grazing the back of her neck as he spoke.
"I've just not been strong enough to leave him, Daniel. Mulder's feelings for me are so overwhelming, so suffocating, but I know what it will do to him when I break it off. I am what he lives for...he doesn't have the strength to carry on that you've had all these years. Everything Mulder's ever loved has been taken from him. But I know now that I can't continue on like this, subjugating my desires for his, just as I'm sure you concluded about yourself when you finally were able to leave Barbara."
"No, Dana, you can't," Daniel murmured, letting go of her arms, and bringing the knife between their bodies.
Scully felt the point slice into the tender, raw skin of her wrists as he loosened the bonds, cutting the tape free.
With gentle soothing strokes, he rubbed her wrists, working his way up her arms to her shoulders in order to restore sensation to her tortured extremities. The pain was excruciating, poker-red hot in its intensity. But even that was better than the throbbing numbness she had felt before.
As much as Scully tried to stop them, tears filled her eyes, slipping down her cheeks. Each massaging stroke brought with it such agony that she could no longer contain the emotions within. Not only was it physical torture feeling the revitalization of her arms, but it was the emotional anguish that came from knowing this man was the same one she had nearly agreed to spend her life with, once upon a very long time ago.
"Better, Dana?"
"Yes, thank you."
Daniel twisted her body, turning Scully to face him. For the briefest of moments, his face contorted in pain. He reached forward, wiping his thumbs against her face as though he just realized the harm he'd been doing her.
"Why are you crying, Dana? I'm so sorry...that I hurt you. I never wanted to do that. In fact, I brought you here to make you whole again, to deliver you from all the pain and grief in your life," Daniel said, pointing to the small pile of stuff he'd accumulated on the ground in front of the car.
Her eyes followed his finger in the direction that it pointed. There, in front of the convertible, sat a large bouquet of wilted daisies, another lacy white negligee, crystal goblets, and a bottle of wine.
"I bought the daisies this morning; they should still be fresh. I had them in the back seat, along with the other things. I knew-"
Scully tuned out the rest of what Daniel was saying as she saw what else he had collected. Nestled among his 'gifts' were a long hose, duct tape, and rags. The stark and final nature of these items was in such contrast to the romantic illusion he was trying to reclaim.
"-You see, Dana. This is the only way I can truly keep you and Maggie safe, and ensure that outside influences do not corrupt you. It's perfect, sweetheart. Just as it was that day. Maggie will continue to sleep, and you and I will be able to watch the sunrise together."
Unconsciously, perhaps, Scully shook her head from side to side, a silent 'NO' to what he was inferring. Reacting to this, Daniel continued.
"Dana, honey, I know it's not the same; it's not a sunset. There aren't the boulders and crashing waves like in La Jolla. And there's hardly a troupe of Shakespearean actors prancing about, but it is beautiful. Dana, it is still perfect."
"Where are we, Daniel?" Scully asked, trying to buy time for herself while she figured out what to do about this unexpected turn of events. A suicide pact was not on her agenda for that day or any other.
"We're at Bethany Beach, in Delaware. My own vacation house is about half a mile down the beach. This one belongs to a colleague of mine. He's in Europe, and I check up on it for him. I figured it would be better to come here; I didn't want any interruptions."
"Daniel...we can't do this. We each have responsibilities, families that count on us...This would be too selfish. Can't you see that?"
Pulling his weapon from the waistband of his slacks, Daniel's eyes glazed over as he spoke.
"What I see, Dana, is a life that has treated you harshly. It has taken away so much of that young, vibrant girl I once knew, and left you tired and dissatisfied-"
"No, Daniel. For the first time, in so very long, I am content. I'm happy. And Maggie, she has so much to live for; she's young, her whole life is before her. You can't take away her chances for happiness. That's not a father's love."
"You and Maggie are so much alike; it's uncanny. She thinks she knows what's best for her, but she's about to make the same poor decisions you did. This is better for her. I'm saving her. I'm saving Maggie from a life of recrimination and self-doubt. I'm doing exactly what you told me in the hospital. Do you remember?"
"Daniel, I didn't tell you to kill Maggie."
"You told me that maybe the reason I was alive now was to make up for the past...make it up to Maggie. Well, you were right. I've been such a poor father, but I've learned. And this will go so far towards making things up to my little girl. No one will ever hurt her as they have you."
Scully tried to calculate her odds of making it to the beach before Daniel put a bullet in her back. She'd have to leave Maggie, but maybe she could find someone close enough to help. Or, perhaps, she could yell, causing a neighbor to investigate, or at the very least call the police.
"Dana...before the scream exits your mouth, you will be dead," Daniel sighed, resignation evident in the tone of his voice.
"And don't even think of running, sweetheart. You'll have no chance. I'd rather we were able to enjoy these last few moments together, to watch the glorious sunrise, to drink a final toast to old times, and gently slide into eternity together. But if it's not to be, I understand."
Before Scully could reply, Daniel silenced her with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"Don't think I've been fooled by your pop-psychology attempts to distract me, to lull me into a false sense of security. I know exactly what you've been up to, Agent Scully. And like I said before, I'd be disappointed in you, if you didn't try."
"Daniel, I-"
"Save it, Dana. It's beneath you to try and play dumb. You are an intelligent woman; you did everything I'm sure you were trained to do in order to stay alive. Your superiors would be proud. But in this case, the pupil is not smarter than her mentor. You've only fooled yourself, Agent Scully, if you think your submissive posture, or your attempts to placate me have seduced me.
"Daniel, I am not getting into that car. I refuse to just sit there and let you asphyxiate me."
Daniel's finger caressed the weapon's trigger, then stopped. With his eyes still trained upon her, he bent, grabbing the lacey spaghetti strap edge of the negligee. Holding it out in front of him, he said, "Put it on, Dana."
"I will not," Scully voiced, drawing her line in the sand.
Tears pooling within his own eyes, Daniel mouthed, "I love you, Dana," as he leveled and steadied his gun, pointing it directly at Scully's chest. Her breath hitched as she realized this was probably the end of her road. Mulder would not be charging up on his white steed to rescue his damsel in distress.
"You're just not the one..."
The next several seconds seemed to take place in slow motion, real time standing still as vibrant sound and movement stormed Scully's senses. She heard the click of the car door opening. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Maggie step out, her face flushed, her eyes vacant and drugged. Within her unsteady hands was Scully's service weapon, pointed at Daniel.
"NOOOO!" Scully screamed, feeling the reverberation of her cry torn from her throat as Daniel instinctively reacted to the intruder, swinging his arm around, squeezing the trigger, and pumping two rounds into Maggie.
Like a crumpled rag doll, Maggie collapsed, the gun flung from her hand as her body hit the ground. Her blood slowly trickled into the sand like a crimson stream, small eddies swirling through the crystalline granules.
In that instant, adrenaline and desperation propelled Scully forward like a stone launched from a slingshot. She dove for Maggie's discarded gun. At the same time her fingers grasped its cold, steel surface, she twisted and rolled, coming up in a crouched position, her arms trembling with the effort to raise the gun.
As Scully aimed her gun at Daniel, she vaguely registered Mulder running towards her from the water's edge. His weapon was drawn, extended in Daniel's direction. She could see her partner's mouth moving. She knew he spoke, and even though she couldn't hear his voice, she knew his words.
In the split second...she remembered...several days ago, in the courtyard.
"Frankly, Scully, more than you shooting the bastard, whether we argue the semantics of it being justified or not, my fears for you are more for how that horrendous moment may color your future actions."
Placing his fingers under her chin, Mulder tilted her face to his. "Scully, I worry that given the split second decision making process that occurs in a situation like that, where you might find yourself in the clutches of another madman, you might 'blink'."
"Blink, Mulder?" she whispered as a single tear slid free, tracing her cheek.
"Yes, blink. Realizing you might question your actions, your resolve, your right to use deadly force to defend yourself, and therefore, in that 'blink' give the upper-hand to the perp, and consequently lose your life, scares the hell out of me, Scully."
"I won't blink, Mulder," she mumbled under her breath.
"What, Scully, I didn't hear you," Mulder said, forcing her to speak more audibly.
Straightening her shoulders, pulling away from his embrace, Scully spoke with confidence.
"I will not blink, Mulder."
Scully fired her weapon. The jolt from the discharge raced up the ravaged nerves of her arm, but none the less, she held firm as she fired again, taking Daniel down.
Just as the second shot rang true, Mulder was beside Daniel's crumpled form, kicking the weapon away from his body.
Daniel's face was turned toward the horizon. He appeared to not even notice Mulder's presence. Gasping for air, he coughed bright red frothy blood. "Dana," he whispered,
"Isn't it beautiful, Dana? It is such a perfect day-"
Scully struggled to stand, her limbs painfully fighting against that desire. Daniel didn't need her any more. His eyes stared straight ahead, fixated on some precious memory as he breathed his last.
Until he was no more.
Lurching toward Maggie, she heard Mulder's strangled cry.
"Scully-"
Even as she labored in Maggie's direction, Scully's gaze held Mulder's. She had so much she wanted to say to him. But now was not the time. Maggie needed her help. If she could help it, Daniel's tragic legacy would not include his daughter's murder.
Grabbing the ivory nightgown from the ground she attempted to staunch the blood flow from Maggie's wounds. As sirens sounded in the background, Scully whispered,
"I didn't blink, Mulder. I didn't blink."
