**Disclaimer in part 1**
6:45 PMPotosi, Missouri
A few minor delays and a couple of wrong turns later, Mulder finally pulled into the parking lot of the Mark Twain Motor Lodge in Potosi. It wasn't exactly the Ritz-Carlton, but he'd stayed in worse. As long as the shower put out plenty of hot water and the TV got more than the local farm reports, he'd survive just fine. Deciding to check-in first, he grabbed his bag and headed toward the entrance. His hand was reaching for the door when he heard someone calling his name.
"Agent Mulder?"
Mulder turned around to see who was calling him.
"You Agent Mulder?"
"That's me. You must be Sheriff Dryden."
"Friends call me Lee and any friend of Reggie's is a friend of mine. As I recall, you go by Mulder, that right?"
Mulder nodded his head and smiled. After all these years, it was nice to meet someone who knew a little about him and was actually glad to meet him. That didn't happen very often.
"Let's get you checked in and I'll take you out for some dinner. You haven't eaten yet, have you? The town's not much to look at, but the MT here has the some of the best food in town."
They went up to the front desk and got his room key. Mulder agreed to meet Lee in the restaurant in fifteen minutes, saying he needed a few minutes to "freshen up." Really, he was anxious to call Scully and let her know he'd arrived. He walked outside and around the corner to his room. As soon as the door closed behind him, he tossed his bag on the bed and pulled out his cell phone. The phone rang four times, before the answering machine picked up.
"Hi, this is Dana. I can't come to the phone right now, leave a message and I'll get back to you."
"I'm here, Scully, where are you? It's 6:55, that makes it 7:55 your time. Don't tell me you're in the shower again! I'm heading out to dinner with Sheriff Dryden. Call you later."
8:10 PMScully's apartment
Scully slammed the door and threw her purse on the table. An accident on the interstate had backed up traffic, turning her thirty-minute commute into a three-hour nightmare. She was tired, hungry and her bladder had reached its breaking point. The blinking light on her answering machine barely registered as she passed on her way to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, bladder emptied and the days work clothes traded in for jeans and a T-shirt, Scully remembered the blinking light and went to check her messages.
Beeeeeep. "Hey Scully, hear you're flying solo this weekend. If you're not busy, give us a call, maybe we can get Byers drunk again. Got anyone else you want beat up?"
Scully flashed on McCullough and snickered. In the background, she could hear Langly laughing and Byers yelling something unkind about Frohike's mother. She wanted to be annoyed with Mulder for having called them, but they were just too funny and she really needed a laugh after being stuck in traffic for so long.
Beeeeeep. "I'm here, Scully, where are you? It's 6:55, that makes it 7:55 your time. Don't tell me you're in the shower again! I'm heading out to dinner with Sheriff Dryden. I'll call you later."
* Damn, missed him by fifteen minutes! * The urge to play Mulder's message a second time was strong, but she resisted. *When did I become such a cream puff? * Shaking her head, she went to the kitchen to make dinner. She poured a glass of wine, then explored the fridge to see what it had to offer. Not being in the mood to cook, she settled on a salad. As an afterthought, she grabbed the pork rinds from the counter as she went out to the living room.
Mark Twain Motor Lodge
Mulder closed and locked the door to his room. The quick dinner he'd hoped for had turned into an evening of fond remembrances of Reggie. He'd learned more about his late partner in one evening than he'd learned in all the time they'd been together. Looking at his watch, he was surprised to see that it was almost 10:30. Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he hit the Scully button and waited for the phone to connect. She picked up on the first ring.
"Scully."
"Hey Scully, it's me. How's the world's cleanest federal employee this evening?"
"Cute, Mulder. For the record, I did not miss your call because I was in the shower. There was an accident on the freeway and I was stuck in traffic for three hours. How was dinner with Sheriff Dryden?"
Mulder opened his briefcase and tossed the case file on the bed. "Interesting. I learned a lot about Reggie. As far as the case goes, we didn't discuss it. Lee wanted to wait until morning, so we could start fresh."
Scully shook her head at the sound of the latches on his briefcase opening. "Starting fresh isn't in your nature, is it Mulder?"
"What do you mean?"
"I heard you open your briefcase. Why don't you get some sleep and work on that in the morning?"
"What's sleep? C'mon Scully, you know I don't sleep. Besides, I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere on a mercy mission, when the only thing I want to be working on is seducing my partner. The sooner I get this done, the sooner I can get back to my original plan."
"This 'original plan' sounds intriguing."
"Want to hear more?"
"Nope, don't want to hear about it, Mulder. I'll wait until you can put it into action. Now get to work."
Mulder smiled. "Yes ma'am." He paused for a moment. "Night, Scully."
"Goodnight, Mulder."
Scully hung up the phone and suddenly felt very tired. She'd been fidgety and restless for hours, waiting for him to call back. Deciding to read for a little while before retiring, she picked up Vampire Bytes, the book she'd left on the couch beside her and began to read. The story was moving along decently, not a great work of literature, but entertaining all the same. A few paragraphs into Chapter Twenty, she realized that she no longer was paying any attention to the words on the page. Putting a bookmark in at the beginning of the chapter, she dropped the book on the coffee table and headed off to bed.
3:18 AM
Sleep had come easily, then the dreams started. The early ones weren't so bad, just a little strange. This one was a doozy.
She was alone, in a field behind a barn, frantically looking for something she'd lost. No idea what it was, but certain that it was here. A shot rang through the stillness and she ran in the direction of the sound. What she saw terrified and revolted her. People lined up in front of a wooden fence being systematically placed on the railings and shot in the head. The gunman then picked up a paintbrush and used the flowing blood to paint that section of the railing. No one ran; no one screamed. Like lambs to the slaughter, they just stood there, waiting their turn on the fence. She reached for her gun, but it wasn't there. Neither was her ever-present cell phone. She was alone, unarmed and unable to call for backup. She crept toward the group, desperately trying to figure out what to do to help these people. Then she saw them, a woman and a young girl, both with long red hair. She moved closer. As she approached them, the little girl turned and smiled. "Emily!" she screamed, as she ran toward her daughter. All thoughts of personal safety and proper procedure left her mind, all she knew was that she had to get to Emily. She ran and ran, but never seemed to make any progress. Emily and the woman moved closer and closer to the front of the killing line. Scully's feet refused to bring her any nearer, no matter how hard she tried. As Emily and the woman reached the front of the line, Scully screamed again. "No! Emily, run!" Emily looked at Scully, smiling as the woman gave her little hand over to the gunman. "NO, NO, NO!" As Emily was placed on the railing, the woman turned to look at Scully. Scully froze at the face before her. Melissa smiled. "She's ours now, Dana. We'll take good care of her for you." A shot rang out and Scully's world went black.
Scully woke up, pressed against the headboard of the bed. She was soaked and shaking. It took a minute for her to figure out where she was; who she was. The images in the nightmare came crashing back and the floodgates opened.
8 AMPotosi Sheriff's Dept.
Mulder had been going over the case file for hours, by the time he wandered into the sheriff's office. The killer's MO seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why. His instincts told him that these were copycat murders, but he couldn't find the original in any of the databases he'd checked. It would come to him; it always did. He hoped that it would before another victim was found. Deep in thought, he almost walked right into Sheriff Dryden.
"Good, you're here. Let's go, there's been another one."
9 AMScully's apartment
Once the shaking had stopped and her thoughts cleared a little, she'd gotten out of bed and wrapped herself in an afghan on the couch. She remained there, holding her knees in her arms, rocking, for most of the night. When the sun came up, she fixed a cup of tea and returned to the couch. The urge to call Mulder was strong, but she couldn't bring herself to pick up the phone. He had enough to do without listening to her cry over a nightmare. This wasn't the first nightmare she'd had and it wouldn't be the last. It was, however, one of the most graphic and terrifying ones in recent memory. *Where did those images come from? Why would I dream about Melissa allowing Emily to be killed; leading her to her death? God, Missy, I'm so sorry I wasn't here to save you. * The tears welled up in her eyes again and she allowed them to flow. She reached for the phone, but stopped herself from actually picking up the receiver. *No, mom doesn't need to hear any of this either. * She was a grown woman, certainly she could handle this without using either her mother, or Mulder, as a crutch. Pulling the afghan tightly around her, she rested her head on the back of the couch and cried until she fell asleep.
9:23 AMMark Twain National Forest
It had taken them over an hour to reach the most recent crime scene, partly because the county coroner, who also doubled as the local general practitioner, had been busy stitching up a young man who'd been on the losing side of a fight with his skateboard. Jim Atkinson, the forest ranger on site, had found the body and had remained at the scene, until the Sheriff and his men could arrive. He was relieved to see them drive up the trail. This was the second time he'd found a body in his forest and he hoped he'd never have to repeat the experience again. Usually, he hated to give up control of a situation; this was not one of those times.
"You Atkinson?" Dryden asked.
Jim nodded in reply.
"Good, I'm Lee Dryden, this is Agent Mulder from the FBI."
Mulder extended his hand to Atkinson, who gave Mulder a firm handshake in return. "How did you happen to find the body, Mr. Atkinson?"
"Well, Agent Mulder, there's not much to tell, really. I was out here doing a routine check of the area and there she was. I radioed for help right away. That's about it."
"Sheriff. I think you need to come take a look at this."
Lee and Mulder walked over toward the body. Dr. Hastings looked up at them, then pointed to the victim's right hand. The hand had been forced into a contorted position and stitched so it wouldn't lose its shape.
"Just like the other three," Lee said, shaking his head.
Mulder was puzzled. "What do you mean 'just like the other three'? There was no mention of anything like this in the report you sent. Are you saying that the other victims had their hands similarly contorted?"
"Yeah. It wasn't in the report? No one really noticed it with the first one; hers hadn't been sewn into place. It wasn't until we found the second and third bodies, that this started to show up. I can't believe that wasn't written in the file."
Mulder glared at Lee, then turned to the doctor. "What else can you tell me about her?"
"Well, she's been strangled, see here, you can see the ligature marks. My guess is it's from fishing line, same as the others. Won't know for sure, 'til I get her back to the clinic. From the looks of her, I'd say she died in the last twenty-four hours. If she's like the rest of them, she won't have been raped, but again, I need to get her back before I can say that for sure."
Mulder and Lee got up and moved away from the body, to allow Officer Stanton to take the crime scene photos and mark the scene. As he started to walk away, Mulder turned to the officer. "Make sure you get a picture of her hand."
"Yes sir, Agent Mulder."
Mulder caught up with Lee. He was not happy. "I want to see all the files you have on these murders. The 'complete' files this time."
"Sure, Mulder. We've cleared a room for you; all the files are in there already. I'd planned on showing it to you this morning, but...."
Dr. Hastings and Officer Stanton, joined them. "We're all done here. If you're ready, we can get her bagged and back to the clinic."
Mulder nodded, so Hastings went to his car to get the body bag. The two men bagged and tagged the victim, while Mulder and Lee returned to the Sheriff's vehicle. Once the body was in the doctor's car and on it's way into town, Mulder and Lee left the scene.
Scully's apartment
It was noon before Scully forced herself off of the couch and into the shower. The combination of the morning nap and running water did wonders for her thought processes. * It was just a nightmare. No more, no less. Everything's fine. * She repeated this like a mantra, while she showered, dried off and got dressed, until she almost believed it.
While drying her hair, she made the decision to get out of the apartment and do something; anything at all. No firm plan, just get out and be wherever there were other, normal people, doing whatever it was that normal people do on a Saturday afternoon. Pulling her hair back into a ponytail, she went to the door to get the day's newspaper.
Snapping off the rubber band, she tossed all, but the Entertainment section, on the coffee table, then sat down on the couch. The library was having its annual used book sale. *No, just bought a bunch of new books. * There were all kinds of movies to see. *Nope, definitely don't want to be in a dark theater. * A home show at the civic center, a gun and knife show at the arena and an antique car show at the fairgrounds, also failed to pass muster. She was about to just give up and hit the mall, when she noticed the companion ad to the car show. Also at the fairgrounds this weekend, was a 'giant' flea market. "Over 240 vendors," the ad exclaimed. *Perfect, lots of normal people digging through other people's treasures. * This was something she knew 'normal' people did all the time. Until she had been assigned to the X-files, back when her life consisted of more than tracking mutants, chasing aliens and keeping Mulder's sorry ass out of trouble, this was something she and Missy used to do for fun. Missy was great at finding the real treasures hidden amongst the tons of gadgets, doodads and thingamabobs. "Hey Missy, want to help me out today? I could use some help finding a couple of new candleholders. What do you say?" she whispered. She waited for a moment, half expecting to hear a reply, before picking up her purse and walking out the door.
Once in her car, Scully realized that she really didn't want to do this all by herself. She wanted Mulder with her, helping her pick out something for her place or his place...*or our place... * But he wasn't here. He was stuck in Bumfuck, Missouri. Not having any 'normal' friends left in town, she picked up her phone and called the only other people she knew.
Lone Gunmen HQ
"Frohike."
"It's me, Frohike. Are you guys busy today?"
Byers looked over at Frohike and gave him the 'who is it' look. Frohike mouthed the word, 'Scully.' "Langly's having a Dungeons and Dragons weekend with a few of his weirdo friends and I gotta see a man about a new bugging device. Don't know what Byers is planning. Here, talk to him."
Frohike handed the phone off to Byers. "Agent Scully, what can I do for you today?"
"It's silly, really, but I felt like getting out of the house and there's this big flea market out at the fairgrounds *and Mulder's not here *...I just didn't feel like going alone. You wouldn't be interested in going, would you?"
Byers fought the urge to add 'and Mulder's not here' while she rambled out her request. If he were Langly or Frohike, the words would have come tumbling out of his mouth, but he wasn't Langly or Frohike, thank God, so he kept his voice silent. "Sure, I'll go. When did you want to leave?"
"As soon as I can get there to pick you up?''
"OK, see you shortly."
Scully took a deep breath. Things were looking a little better now. She wouldn't have to be alone and, of the three, Byers was the one she thought would really be good at the flea market tango. "Hey, Byers...thanks."
1 PMPotosi Sheriff's Dept.
Mulder sat in his temporary office; reading and rereading the case files on the four murder victims. Pictures from the crime scenes had already been put up on the bulletin board and he kept looking up from the files, to study them. He was most interested in the hands of the previous victims. A request to have the pictures scanned and the area showing the hands, enlarged, had been shot down. The office had limited computer equipment and the scanner was currently being repaired. For a while, he'd tried to use his glasses to help magnify the area, but it wasn't enough. Finally, he'd gone in search of a magnifying glass. It seemed like a simple request; what kind of police station doesn't have at least one magnifying glass? Apparently, this kind, as one could not be found. Lee eventually had to send an officer over to the clinic, to borrow one from Dr. Hastings.
When, at last, he had the magnifying glass in hand, Mulder took a few of the pictures down from the bulletin board and spread them out on the table, in the order of discovery. He moved from one to other, studying the contorted hand of each body. There was something familiar about the positioning. He, unconsciously, began to recreate them with his left hand. When he became aware of what he was doing, he watched his hand go through the motions. His eyes grew wide as a piece of the puzzle fell into place. He was rifling through the files, checking the names of the victims, confirming his findings, when Lee walked into the room.
"Find something?"
"Yeah." He handed Lee the magnifying glass and pointed to the hand of the first victim. "Here, take a look at this."
Lee looked at the hand, then at Mulder. Mulder moved the next picture in front of him and pointed to the hand of the second. He did the same for the third and fourth.
"OK, what am I supposed to be seeing here? All of them had their hands forced into an unnatural position. What does it mean?"
Mulder began making the motions with his hands. Lee watched, still not making the connection.
"I'm sorry, Mulder, I'm just not seeing it."
"It's finger spelling, one of the fundamental parts of sign language. Each letter of the alphabet has its own sign. Look at the first picture. See this sign? That's the letter 'c'. Look, here's 'c', 'd', and 'e'. I've checked the names of the first three victims, Caroline Blair, Delia Zeller and Elaine Wilson. See, 'c,d,e'. Each of their hands has been used to reflect the first letter of their first names. Do we have an ID on the latest one?"
Lee stared at the pictures, then at Mulder, surprise and amazement in his eyes. "I'll be damned. No, we haven't put a name to her, not yet."
"What do you want to bet that her name starts with 'f'? I need you to find out if any similar murders have been committed in the last few months. If I'm right, there's probably an 'a' and 'b' out there somewhere."
1:30 PMFairgrounds
Scully parked the car. All things considered, they'd found a decent parking spot, not too far from the entrance to the flea market. For the first time since Mulder's departure, she felt relaxed. It helped, that Byers had forgone his usual uniform of a suit and tie, in favor of jeans and a plain, green, golf shirt, with a little, embroidered alligator on it. Both items looked neatly pressed, but she wouldn't have expected any less of him. In the spirit of the moment, they had agreed that, just for today, they would Dana and John, not Scully and Byers. Scully and Byers were stuffy, work-obsessed individuals; John and Dana were two friends out to have a nice afternoon.
"It's really crowded."
"Need me to hold your hand so you won't get lost, John?"
He looked at her, raised his eyebrows and chuckled. Before he could censor himself, the words came out. "Sure, I think I'd like that, Dana. You never know what can happen in a crowd and I'd hate to get separated from my lovely companion." As the words left his mouth, his eyes went wide. *Shit! Where did that come from? Oh no, she's gonna kick my ass. I have got to stop spending so much time with Frohike! *
Dana saw the shocked look that crossed John's face at his own words and stifled a laugh. *That man has got to loosen up! * Mulder was always telling her to 'go with it', so this time, she did. Without a word, Dana reached for his hand and started walking toward the rows of merchandise. John hesitated, not knowing quite how to react, until Dana tugged on his hand to get him moving. "Friends do, occasionally, hold hands, John. Remember, we're normal people today..." She felt him relax. Holding back another giggle, she added, "...just don't tell Mulder, he might kick your ass." After a beat, she let go of the giggle. John, now completely relaxed, laughed with her.
"He's not so tough. I can take him."
3:30 PMPotosi Sheriff's Department
It took all of an hour for Sheriff Dryden to locate victims 'a' and 'b'. The first victim was Alice Nichols of Sullivan, the second, Bonnie Harper from Festus. Mulder requested and received a map of Missouri. He started sticking pins in the map, representing each victim's hometown and the location of her body. All of the victims had lived within a day's drive of each other and all were found in the Mark Twain National Forest.
Mulder paced the room, talking to himself as he did; unaware that Lee was standing just outside the door, drinking a cup of coffee and watching him in action. "OK, we have six victims, all female ranging in age from 18 to 31, all killed in alphabetical order." He looked down at the map. "What do they have in common?" He walked over to the bulletin board and looked at their pictures. "How did the killer know them?" He turned and put his fist up to his face, beating it gently on his mouth, then lowering it back down to his side. "What is the connection?" He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair and stared out the door, right into the curious expression on Lee's face.
"Glad to see I'm not the only one who talks to himself. My momma used to tell me that it was a sign of insanity. Momma was wrong, not talking to yourself is a sign of insanity, don't you think?"
Mulder shook his and smiled. "I don't think I'm the best judge of sanity."
"Reggie always said you think too much. 'Course, he also said that was what made you so damned good." Putting his cup down on the table, he walked over to the board and pointed to Elaine Wilson. "I don't know about the others, but Elaine, she was one of ours, and something of a celebrity around here. She'd just won a full scholarship to MIT. Local paper did an article on her and the evening news did one of those hometown-girl-makes-good stories they do to fill up time on a slow news day."
"When was this?"
"Oh, about a week ago, maybe ten days. I can check, if you want."
"Do that. Also, let's run a check on the other victims. I need to know if any of them had recently appeared in a paper or on the news; anything that might put them in the public eye. Do we know who the latest victim is yet?"
"Well, we think so. If we're right, it's Faith Olinger. She's from Farmington. Dr. Hastings is waiting for her father to come down and give us a positive ID."
"Good. I'm going over there, too. I'll see if I can find out if she has anything in common with Elaine Wilson."
4:30 PMFairgrounds
Dana found a beautiful pair of hand-thrown pottery votive holders, exactly what she had in mind for her bedroom. She was excited when she saw them and didn't even haggle over the price. They were perfect. *Thanks, Missy. *
One vendor had a collection of UFO and alien-related toys, some dating from the early 50's. When she saw the model of Gort, she knew it was meant for Mulder. She picked it up and showed it to John. "What do you think?"
He nodded his head enthusiastically. "Oh yeah, that's Mulder all right."
Another vendor boasted the largest collection of vintage ties in the US. Dana couldn't resist making John look around for something to brighten up his boring, blue suit. With her help, he managed to walk away from the table with two, decidedly un-Byers-like ties. He looked at the dark blue one with the silver-grey lightning bolts and then at the red one with the navy blue tornadoes. *Interesting how she picked out the two with a stormy weather theme. * He never would have had the courage to pick up something like that himself, but she was insistent and he was more than willing to go with the flow. He knew he'd never hear the end of it, but it was worth it just to see her smile, for a change. He didn't get to see Scully smile very often, but when she did, it was a sight to behold.
"Don't you dare stick those in a drawer. I want to see you wearing them."
"Yes, ma'am."
John sniffed the air; something smelled wonderful. His stomach rumbled and he realized that they hadn't eaten all day. He looked around to see where the smell was coming from. At the end of the aisle, he spotted a woman cooking sausages on a grill. Dana followed the direction of his gaze.
"Smells good, but John, you know those things are loaded with fat and chemicals."
"I know they are. They take forever to digest."
"They clog your arteries and raise your cholesterol."
"They're a heart-attack on a bun."
"Research indicates that carcinogens are highest in food cooked over an open charcoal grill."
"They drip and it's almost impossible to get the grease stains out of your silk ties."
They stood quietly for a moment, before exchanging looks. John took a deep breath, then grabbed her hand. "I'm starving! Let's eat."
3:50 PMDr. Hastings' office
Mulder arrived at the clinic shortly after Doug Olinger. By the time he got inside, Mr. Olinger had already, positively identified his daughter's remains. He was slumped in a chair, head in his hands and sobbing, when Mulder approached him.
"Mr. Olinger?" The man nodded. "My name is Fox Mulder, I work for the FBI. I know this is a difficult time, but I need to ask you a few questions about your daughter."
Doug raised his head and looked at Mulder. "Who would do this? Who would do such a thing to my daughter? Can you explain this to me? Why is this happening?"
"I don't know, sir, that's what we're trying to find out. We believe that your daughter, was the most recent victim of the same person who's killed several other women in the past few months. We're trying to establish some common ground, to help us determine how these women are being chosen."
"Have you found anything yet?"
"Maybe, that's why I need you answer some questions for me. Do you think you can do that?"
"Agent Mulder, I'll do anything I can to help put this murderer behind bars."
One hour laterPotosi Sheriff's office
Mr. Olinger had been most helpful. Faith hadn't made any new or unusual friends in the last few months, she didn't know any of the other victims, she hadn't received any threatening mail or phone calls, but she had appeared in the local newspaper. Eight days prior to her disappearance, Faith Olinger had placed an engagement announcement, complete with a picture of herself and her fiancée, in the wedding announcement column of the weekly paper. That made for a connection between two of the six.
As Mulder walked down the hall to his office, Officer Stanton handed him a file folder. "Sheriff asked me to give this to you as soon as you got in. He had to run out to Mrs. Barringer's place. She's complaining about kids knocking her mailbox over again." He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "That woman calls or comes in once a week complaining about something. At this point, I'm beginning to think she's knocking over her own darn mailbox, just to get the Sheriff to pay attention to her."
"Maybe she's just lonely, Officer Stanton."
"I'm sure she is, sir, but I firmly believe that loneliness is a choice."
Mulder tapped the file against his leg and looked down at the floor. "You're right," he said, raising his eyes up to meet Stanton's. "That's something I'm just finding out, myself."
5:50 PMFairgrounds
After stuffing themselves on grilled sausages, Dana and John walked down the last row of booths. The vendors were in the last hour of their allotted sales time and a few were already packing up for the night. Finding nothing of interest, they reluctantly decided that it was time to go.
As they made their way back to the car, John noticed that Dana's mood had already begun to slip. Her gait slowed and her face lost a little of its light. Not knowing what to do, or how to ask, he simply put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "He'll be back soon."
Dana nodded her head and tried to smile. "I know, its not just Mulder being away, it's....never mind. I'm fine, John."
Feeling braver than usual, he decided to push the issue. "No you're not. Mulder might let you get away with that, but not me, not today. I know you've finally started to trust us, but when you turn to Langly, Frohike and me for companionship, that screams something's wrong. Now, what else is upsetting you?"
Dana gave him a half-smile and patted the hand on her shoulder. "I've trusted you all for a long time. As for turning to you for companionship, outside of Mulder and my mother, you three are the only friends I have left. The work has become so all consuming that I haven't had the time to keep up with the people I used to call friends. "
"You still haven't answered my question."
"Now you sound like Mulder."
"I've been paying attention."
"It shows."
"Dana..." John slid his arm off her shoulders and turned her toward him. The look in his eyes made it pretty clear that he wasn't going to let her get away with 'I'm fine' this time. She lowered her head and took a deep breath.
"I haven't been sleeping well lately."
"Nightmares?"
"How did you....Mulder told you?"
"No, just a hunch."
"After my abduction, I had them all the time. I learned to live with less sleep. A year later, they started to diminish and after a while, they only popped up every so often. I've had three in the last week, each worse than the last."
"Does Mulder know about this?"
"He knows about the first two; I haven't told him about the last one."
"Are you going to tell him?"
"No," she sighed. "He's in the middle of a case; he doesn't need anything else to worry about. I'm perfectly capable of handling this on my own; I don't need Mulder on his white steed to rescue me."
"Well then, how about me?"
"John Fitzgerald Byers! Are you propositioning me?" Dana grinned at his shocked expression and watched as his face turned a lovely shade of crimson.
"That's not...I mean...no," he stammered. "I meant, if you don't want to tell Mulder, how about telling me?"
"Breathe John, I knew what you meant. Anyone ever tell you you're cute when you're embarrassed?" She reached for his hand and they walked the final distance to the car. As she unlocked his door, she added, "Still, it's shame to see those perfectly good ties not live up to their full potential..."
"DANA!"
6:50 PMPotosi Sheriff's Office
Mulder took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Alice Nichols had just run her first ad as an independent realtor. Her face was prominently displayed in the Real Estate section of the newspaper and on several bus benches. Bonnie Harper's eight-year old son had won a regional spelling bee for his age group. There was a nice picture of Bonnie and her husband helping Greg hold up his trophy. Delia Zeller was the lucky 100,000th visitor at the big grocery store in town. Her picture had been used in the following week's sales ad and was proudly displayed in the front window of the store. Caroline Blair was still an uncertainty. No record of her appearing in print or on TV could be located. She was a graveyard shift DJ at a local radio station, but they didn't run print ads or post billboards with pictures of the DJs anywhere. The station did do local events, like grand openings, but these were always handled by the drive time DJs. As far as Mulder could tell, she was the only one who broke the pattern. *There's got to be something I'm missing. * He folded his arms on the table, then rested his head on them. He stayed like that for almost five minutes, before deciding to get out of there and grab something to eat. Maybe make a long call to Scully, too. He slid the papers back into their file, stuffed it in his briefcase and secured the clasp.
Lee poked his head into the room. "Geez, Mulder, you still here?"
"Yeah, still here. Actually, I'm on my way back the motel to grab something to eat."
"Great, I'll go with you."
* NO! * Mulder sighed. "Sounds good, let's go."
45 minutes later
"So what you're telling me, is that this guy is picking his victims by the first letter in their names?"
"Yeah, my guess is that he's collecting letters. Serial killers often take souvenirs from their victims. Ed Gein collected skulls and used them as bowls and drinking cups; he used skin to make lampshades. Ted Bundy took Polaroids of his victims. John Lee Roche collected cloth hearts cut from the clothing of the little girls he murdered. They take these mementos, to refuel their fantasies, to help relive past conquests. I'd be willing to bet that, when we catch him, we'll find pictures of each of his victims in his possession."
Lee pushed his half-eaten meal toward the center of the table. Mulder certainly knew all the right things to say to kill an appetite. *Dinner with Mulder, the quick weight-loss plan for overweight Sheriffs. * "Why do you figure he'll have pictures and not something else?"
"He's putting too much time into the hands, not to be taking pictures. The letters are symbolic of something and taking pictures would be the best way to record his conquests."
"I gotta tell you, Mulder, this is way out of my field of expertise. Reggie was the one with all the drive to be a major crimebuster, I just wanted to help keep things safe in my own little Mayberry."
"Sorry Lee, but Mayberry only exists during rain-delayed Braves games."
"I guess you're right about that." Lee smiled sadly, and pushed back his chair. "I'm going home to get some rest. I suggest you do the same, Mulder. Looks like it's gonna be a long day tomorrow."
Mulder pushed his chair back as Lee stood up. Rising from his chair, Mulder picked up the check. "What's rest?" he said, under his breath. "See you in the morning." Mulder took care of the bill, then headed to his room. He didn't think that rest would be coming, but a phone call to Scully, would be a nice break.
Scully's apartment
After promising John that she would call if she needed anything, Scully drove home. She wasn't looking forward to spending time alone, but she didn't know what else to do with herself. Besides, it was getting late, Mulder would probably be calling soon and she didn't want to miss him again. She parked the car, gathered her packages, and started toward her apartment. No sooner had she put the key in the door, did she hear the phone ring.
"Hang on, I'm coming."
Quickly putting the packages down on the table, she ran to the phone, picking it up on the third ring.
"Hello?"
"Did I get you out of the shower?"
Scully smiled. "Mulder, we really need to do something about this shower fixation. Perhaps you should seek professional help."
Mulder laughed. "I'm thinking total immersion therapy might be the trick. What do you say Scully, want to test my theory?"
"I'll take it under advisement, Mulder," Scully chuckled. "You sound tired, have you slept?"
"What's sleep? How about you, any more nightmares?"
"I'm fine, Mulder. You're still coming home Monday, right? I'm sure we can figure out a way to put you to sleep."
Mulder ran his fingers through his hair. "Uh, Scully, about Monday, I think I'm going to be here a little longer than I thought."
Scully's face fell. "Why, what happened?"
"We found another one today. I know this guy's MO, it's familiar to me, but I can't find anything to back me up. I've been through every case file I can think of, but nothing fits. This guy is playing some sick game and I can't make the connection."
"Mulder, maybe it is a game."
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe this guy is playing a game, only in his version, the pieces are human. Maybe you should call Langly, he's the expert on games."
"Did I hear you correctly, Scully? You're suggesting that I go to the Lone Gunmen for help? Isn't that supposed to be my line?"
"I'll admit that I'm not usually the one to ask the boys for help, but after the last few days, I've had a change of heart. I've grown quite fond of them. As a matter of fact, I spent the day with Byers."
"You spent the day with Byers? Why?"
"Because Mulder, I needed to feel normal, you were out of town and, to be honest, the boys are the only friends I have left." Mulder was quiet. She could hear him breathing, but he wasn't making any effort to speak. "Mulder? You still there?"
"Yeah, Scully, I'm still here."
"What's wrong?"
"I guess I didn't realize how isolated you'd become. I mean, I've never really had any close friends, other than you, but you've always had them. I'm sorry, I should have seen it before."
"Mulder, before you start beating yourself up, this is not your fault. I've let my friendships slide. I'm responsible for my relationships, not you. I've made my choices and I don't regret any of them."
"Still, Scully, you had to resort to spending the day with Byers to feel 'normal'? Isn't that an oxymoron?"
"Stop it. I like John. He's sweet and funny and a good friend. He can be very normal, given the right set of circumstances. We spent the day hanging out at a flea market, having a wonderful time. Granted, he can be a little stuffy, but he loosens up after a while."
"Hmmmm, so it's John again, is it? That's the second time I've heard you use his first name in the past week. Should I be jealous, Scully?"
"I don't know, Mulder, maybe. He was awfully attentive today and you are far away......"
Mulder's mind raced. He knew she was teasing, but was there a hint of seriousness behind her words? Should he really be concerned about this latest tidbit of information? His stomach did a nervous flip and for a second, he thought he might actually be sick.
"Mulder? Are you OK?"
"I'm fine, Scully. I'm sorry, I just..." His voice was barely more than a whisper.
Scully shook her head. He really was a little jealous. "I was teasing you, Mulder. You know that, don't you? I like John, but I love you. Do you hear me, Fox Mulder? I love you."
"So, I'm not going to come home and find Byers sleeping on my half of the bed, then?"
"You don't have a 'half of the bed yet', Mulder."
"Point taken. Can I reserve half of your bed, Scully?"
"It's been on reserve for six years, Mulder. I've just been waiting for you to finally figure that out."
"Scully?"
"Yes, Mulder?"
"I love you."
"I know. Try to get some sleep tonight."
"I will, right after I call Langly."
"Oh, he's not there. Frohike said something about him having a Dungeons and Dragons weekend."
"Well, he'll just have to take a break. I can't afford to let any more time go by. This guy's already killed six women, I'd like to get him before he makes it seven."
"Is there anything I can do on this end?"
"Yeah, there is."
"What do you need me to do?"
"Pick up some leave forms Scully, because when I get back, I intend to spend a few days, permanently staking my claim to half of your bed."
"Night, Mulder."
"Night, Scully."
Mulder hung up, but continued to stare at the phone. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to say 'screw it' and book a flight home; then he pictured himself trying to explain his actions to both Skinner and the OPC. *Get a grip, son. * Pressing the power button, he made his second call of the evening.
"Lone Gunmen."
"Hey Byers, it's me. Look, I need to talk to Langly right away."
"He's not here Mulder. He went to Georgetown for a Dungeons and Dragons tournament. I don't think he'll be back until sometime tomorrow afternoon."
Mulder ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, Byers, it's important. Is there any way you can get a message to him?"
"I can try, but I don't know if it'll do any good. They don't usually take messages in the heat of the battle."
"Do what you can then."
"Will do, Mulder."
Mulder considered ending the call, but the desire to yank Byers' chain was just too strong. *I can't punch him in the eye, but I can make him incredibly uncomfortable. * "So Byers, I hear you and Scully had a date today. You trying to make time with my lady?" He barely held back a laugh as Byers began to choke and sputter. *Gotcha 'John'. *
3:42 AMScully's apartment
The dream catcher began to glow. The broken strand began to twitch as the light became stronger.
Haze, cold, hard to see. Where am I? Hard table, white light, can't move, can't see. Help! Mulder, where are you?
"Hello Starbuck. It's Ahab."
*Ahab? *
"People would say to me, "Life is short. Kids, they grow up so fast, before you know it, it's over."
* I know Daddy. *
"No you don't Dana, you don't know anything."
Suddenly her eyes opened. Before her stood Captain Scully, wearing the tattered remains of his dress whites; his hat a mere brim held together by bits of shredded white cloth. He moved closer to her and she could see that his face and hands were burned and scarred, as if they had been exposed to intense heat. One eye was white and clouded over by cataracts. She tried to scream, but no sound would come from her mouth. She tried to move away, but she was frozen to the table.
"Coming to you, that last time, cost me my soul, Dana. Saving you, bringing you back, destroyed me. My life seemed the length of one breath, one heartbeat, my death is an everlasting Hell. A Hell I brought on myself because of you!" he roared.
His good eye glowed red, the bad one oozed blood that ran down his cheek, staining what was left of his dress shirt. Scully tried to breathe, but found no air in the room. She could only watch as he drew closer and closer. Tears fell from her eyes; the only movement permitted her in this space.
"We'll be together again, Starbuck."
He stood now, inches from the table, arms beginning to rise.
"We'll be together, now!"
His arms reached out and grabbed her ankles, pulling her toward the edge of the table. She couldn't scream, couldn't breathe. Her hands broke free of their invisible bonds and she held on to the table for dear life. He pulled harder and harder, his rage growing with every tug.
"I SAID NOW!"
Scully hit the floor screaming and struggling against the sheets, now wrapped around her legs. She flailed out against her father, but as her hand hit the nightstand, the pain opened her eyes. She screamed again and again, kicking at the sheets, until they released her legs and allowed rational thought to push its way forward. Looking around, she began to realize where she was, who she was, that she was home and safe. *Safe? * She felt the gush of tears as her mind and body collapsed.
She stayed that way for almost an hour, before feeling the throbbing in her left hand. Looking down, she saw that the hand was lying in an unnatural position. She tried to wiggle her fingers, but the slightest movement caused her to cry out.
Gently rising from the floor, she sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to assess the damage. From the looks of her hand, the swelling and the intense pain, she determined that it was most likely broken. Scully realized two things almost simultaneously: 1) she needed to go to the emergency room and have it set and 2) there was no way she was going to be able to drive herself. Calling her mother was out of the question. It would take her too long to get to the apartment and she didn't think she could face her mother right now anyway, not after that dream. She could call Skinner. He was close enough, but he'd want a full explanation and he'd insist on calling Mulder. Since he was her boss, she'd have no way of stopping him from making that call. That left only one number on her list. She'd still have some explaining to do, but at least she would be able to keep them under control, where Mulder was concerned. Tucking the receiver between her right shoulder and her ear, she dialed.
"Lone Gunmen."
"John? Is that you?"
"Dana?"
"I need your help. Can you come over? Right now. Please."
Byers wanted to ask the questions that were forming in his mind, but the tone of her voice told him that this was not a good time. Scully needed help now; the questions could wait. "On my way."
Byers hung up the phone and ran back to his room to get dressed. As he did, Frohike came stumbling out of the bedroom in his ratty bathrobe.
"Who was that?"
"Da...Scully. She needs help. I'm going over to her apartment right now."
Frohike, now completely awake, headed back toward the bedroom, taking his bathrobe off as he walked. "Hang on, I'm coming with you. If Scully needs help, I'm wanna be there too."
Byers sighed and shook his head. "All right, fine. Just hurry up, she didn't sound very good."
Scully's apartment
After talking to Byers, Scully tried to get dressed. The shirt wasn't a problem; she'd gone to bed wearing one of Mulder's Knicks T-shirts that she'd 'borrowed' from his laundry basket a long time ago. Pants were another matter entirely. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she had been able to get both legs into her jeans and had pulled them up to mid-thigh, using only her right hand. She stood up and worked at pulling them up the rest of the way. By the time she got them up around her waist, she was exhausted. *How the Hell does Krycek do this every day? * Sitting back down on the bed, she looked at the zipper and sighed. Giving it tug, she managed to get it up less than a third of the way, before it stuck. *You've got to be kidding me! * Lowering the zipper, she tried again, only to have it stick in the same place. Three more attempts yielded the same results. Frustration overtook her and she broke down, almost missing the knock at her door. Holding her jeans up, she walked over to the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Scully, it's Byers and Frohike, open up."
Scully stood there for a second, trying to figure out how to hold up her jeans and open the door at the same time. "Hold on, guys." Pushing her left hip against the wall, she reached over and unlocked the door with her right hand. "OK, it's open."
Frohike pushed the door open, stopping short when he saw Scully. Byers, not expecting Frohike to stop suddenly, bumped into him. "Frohike! What the Hell are you.... Oh my God! Dana, what happened?" He pushed Frohike aside and touched her tear-stained face. She leaned into his hand and the tears started anew. He put his arms around her and pulled her close. Frohike wasn't sure what was going on, he was torn between concern for Scully and his jealousy at Byers' current position. *Damn, next time I'll go the flea market and let Byers take care of business. *
"It's OK, Dana, we're here. Shhhh, everything's fine now. I'm not going to let anything hurt you," Byers said over and over. When she'd calmed down, he pulled back a little and wiped the tears from her face. "What happened?"
Scully took a deep breath and stepped back against the wall as she felt the jeans start to slip. Her embarrassment was two-fold. *Bad enough I'm crying like a baby in front of these two, I really don't need to have my jeans fall down around my ankles. * She reached down and hiked them back up, hoping that neither one of them would notice. "I had another one, worse than the other night. I don't want to talk about it right now, John."
*John? * Now Frohike was really jealous and beginning to feel like a third wheel. "Look, if you two would like to be alone..."
Byers shot him a look, the likes of which Frohike had never seen. Frohike took a step back. Byers turned back to Scully. "It's OK, Dana, we'll stay here as long as you need us. Frohike promises to behave. Don't you Frohike?"
"I won't make a sound."
"Thanks guys, but that's not why I called." She pushed up her left hand. "This is why. I'm pretty sure it's broken and I didn't think I'd be able to drive myself to the hospital."
"Jesus, Scully, what'd you do?" Frohike asked, shocked at the site of the purple, swollen hand in front of him.
"I must have hit it while I was sleeping. I don't know. I woke up on the floor by my bed and felt it throbbing. I'm not sure what happened."
Byers knew that wasn't entirely the truth, but one look from Scully told him to keep that to himself. There'd be time later on, to find out what had really happened. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the car keys and handed them to Frohike. "Here, you drive this time. Come on, Dana, let's get you to the van."
Scully hesitated. "Uh, Frohike, could you go on down and start the van? I need to get something before we go."
"Sure thing, Scully."
As soon as Frohike was down the hall, Scully turned to Byers.
"Tell me what you need, I'll go get it, Dana."
"Oh, I'll need my purse. It's over by the couch."
He walked over to the couch, found the purse and brought it to her. "OK, let's go."
"Um, John, one other thing." Her face flushed. "The thing is...well...I was able to get these jeans on, but...um...the zipper stuck and I can't get the button through the hole with one hand...and if I step away from this wall, I'm going to have to pick them up from around my ankles."
Byers turned red. *Cut it out, act like an adult, for God's sake. * "OK, we can fix that. I think this also falls under the category of one friend helping another. Sure, I can take care of this." He stood there, unable to move.
"John?" She paused. "Now would be a good time."
He shook his head. Scully pulled her shirt up over the top of her jeans. Byers reached over and took hold of the zipper pull. Holding the top of the jeans with one hand, for stability, he gently raised the zipper. It stuck. Trying not to panic, he gave it a tug. The zipper continued its way up to the top. He secured the button and quickly removed his hands and looked down at the floor. "There, all done." He kept his head down, until Scully tapped him on the shoulder. Looking up, he saw the embarrassment in her eyes and felt better. Then, Scully snickered. John looked confused, which caused her to laugh even more. "What? What did I do?" he asked. He started to laugh also, but he wasn't sure why.
"I just had a picture of Frohike coming back up to see what was taking so long and catching you with your hand..." She was laughing too hard now to finish her sentence.
"Funny, I was having a similar vision, only mine was of Mulder seeing us and deciding to pay me back for that black eye."
Scully laughed even harder at that remark. Before they knew it, they were both half-silly from laughter. Regaining their composure was difficult, but they managed to put on straight faces.
"Come on, Dana, we need to get down to the van before Frohike comes back up after us."
"I know, I know."
He pulled her keys out of her purse and locked the door behind them. They walked down the hall and out the door to the van, where Frohike was standing by the running vehicle, tapping his foot. "For crying out loud, what took you so long?"
Dana looked at John, then started giggling all over again. John bit his lip to keep from giggling himself. Frohike just shook his head at both of them. "Get in you two. Man, Mulder leaves town for a few days, you break your hand in bed, Byers turns into an idiot and the two of you act like you should be picking out china patterns. Is there a full moon tonight?" He shook his head as he walked around to the driver's side of the van. "Weirdness!"
4:15 AMGeorgetown Memorial
Scully had been seen almost immediately upon arrival. Being a doctor had many privileges, one of which was getting top priority on the patient list. The hand had been examined, x-rayed and wrapped in a cast. She'd managed to shatter three of the five bones of the metacarpus, put a hairline fracture in the lower phalange of her index finger and cause a pretty nasty sprain to her wrist. Scully sat in the examining room, trying to explain to the circumstances leading up to her injuries.
"Tell me, again, how you did this," Dr. Childers asked.
" I was having a nightmare, it got out of control, I fell off the bed and must have hit my hand on the nightstand."
"Do you often have such a violent reaction to your dreams?"
Scully dropped her head. "You're the second person this week to ask me that. No, not usually, just the last few nights. The nightmares just keep getting more and more intense. I haven't been able to get more than a few hours of sleep."
"Are you under a lot of stress right now?"
Scully laughed. "I'm always under a lot of stress, doctor; stress and I are old friends. No, this is different. These started all of sudden and have been getting worse each night."
"Hmmmm. OK, I'm going to give you something for the pain and something to help you sleep. If those dreams get any worse, I'd suggest seeing someone. I can recommend a good counselor here, if you're not comfortable using one at the Bureau." He walked to a cabinet on the other side of the examining room and removed two bottles, then pulled out his prescription pad and began to write. "Now, I know you know all this, but I'm going to say it anyway. Try not to use the hand, don't stick anything down in the cast, take Benadryl if the itching becomes too annoying, call if there's any more swelling or if you notice a difference in skin color or temperature and you're off work for the next few days, doctor's orders."
"I can't do that, I've got too much to do to take any time off. The hand is going to hurt no matter where I am, it might as well hurt at work."
"Dr. Scully, it's not the hand I'm most concerned about right now. By your own admission, you haven't slept well in days and you're having severe sleep disturbances when you do manage to fall asleep. In your present condition, I don't want you behind the wheel or behind a desk. Go home, take the pills and see if they help you to sleep. Come back on Wednesday. If you've gotten some rest and haven't done any more damage to your body, then we'll talk about going back to work."
Scully frowned at him, but nodded in agreement. Skinner wasn't going to be too pleased, but she didn't think taking time off would present a problem. She really didn't have that much to do and performing any autopsies was going to be out of the question for the next six weeks anyway.
"Here, you go. You know what these are and what they're for," he said, as he handed her the bottles and the prescriptions. He then handed her a third piece of paper. "And this is a note excusing you from work."
Scully smiled in spite of herself and stared at him in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding."
He snickered. "Made you smile didn't it?" He winked and returned her smile. "Try and get some rest, Dr. Scully."
"Thanks, I'll try."