Title: Blessed Union of Souls II: Deep Water 04/17
Author: Somogyi
Email: somogyi02@yahoo.com
Category: SRA
Rating: R for language, adult situations
Spoilers: Through Season Six
Keywords: M/S UST, S/Other Romance
Summary: Sequel to "Not the Doctor." Their partnership on shaky ground, Mulder
and Scully are called in to investigate the mysterious death of two teenagers in
a Hawaiian cave. While exploring the crime scene and its vicinity, they are
trapped by a cave-in. Will they be able to find their way out--without killing
each other first?
Disclaimer: The X-Files, Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, and all other characters
associated with the series are the property of Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen
Productions, and the Fox Network. Characters are used without permission and no
profit is being made.


*****


Blessed Union of Souls II: Deep Water
by Somogyi
somogyi02@yahoo.com


Chapter 4


"Scully?" Mulder called. It had been several minutes since she had disappeared
completely through the hole in the cave wall and he was starting to get
concerned. "Scully, can you hear me?" he asked, shining his flashlight through
the hole and trying to get a glimpse of her. "Scul--!"

All of a sudden, he was hit square in the eyes with a bright beam of light
coming from the other side of the wall. Hearing Scully shout his name, he
realized that it was that damned flashlight of hers again.

"For Christ's sake, Scully, are you hell bent on blinding me?!" he snapped,
closing his eyes and trying to regain his bearings.

"Well, who told you to go sticking your head through there?" she chastised.

"I wouldn't have had to if you'd have answered me the first time I called you!"

"I was checking to see if there was a way out."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Well, is there a goddammed way out or not?"

"There's a path that seems to go on for quite a distance."

"Why didn't you say so in the first place?"

"You didn't ask."

"Oh, for Pete's sake. . . . Now she thinks she's a bloody comedienne," he
muttered under his breath.

"What'd you say, Mulder?"

"Nothing."

"Well then, what the hell are you waiting for? Come on through so we can get
moving."

"Only if you promise to catch me when I jump."

He could almost hear the scowl in her voice. "Just shut up and move your ass,
Mulder."

Mulder pulled himself up to the opening in the cave wall and squeezed through
the hole. Once through, he turned his body around, carefully readjusting his
hand holds until his chest hugged the stone wall and his legs were dangling
towards the ground. "Look out below!" he called a moment before letting go. He
jumped the remaining half-yard, and landed easily on his feet. He turned around
to face Scully, throwing his arms up in the air in imitation of a gymnast's
finish. "What do you think? Perfect ten, or what?"

Shaking her head, Scully sighed. "Eight-point-seven. Your dismount was a bit
sloppy. Now," she said, pointing her flashlight across the cavern, "can we
please get the hell out of here?"

"Lead the way, kemosabe."

Without another word, Scully headed toward the passageway. Mulder silently fell
in step beside her. Together, they headed down the path, which they hoped would
eventually lead them back to the surface.

After twenty minutes or so of hiking, Scully brought them to a halt. "You have a
compass in that bag, Mulder?"

"Yeah, I think so." He slipped his arm through one of the straps of the backpack
and unzipped it. He then produced the instrument she requested. Scully took it
from him.

"I thought so," she said, studying the compass. "The entrance is northeast.
We're going southwest--deeper into the cave."

"Well, hopefully the path will loop back around."

"Hopefully," she agreed, pocketing the compass. "Although it's not as though we
have much choice."

They resumed their journey. It was becoming increasingly humid, and both agents
were soon sweating from the exertion of their hike. Here and there, the pahoehoe
flows had solidified, creating smooth, billowy facades on the walls and floor.
Interspersed between the regions of seemingly fluid-like rock surfaces was the
occasional region of rough, jagged spines.

Mulder was content to admire the natural formations surrounding them as they
walked, but it seemed that his partner had other matters on her mind.

"So, what exactly are we looking for here, Mulder? What sort of clues do you
hope to find?"

"Well, if I could answer that question, then we wouldn't have to be here, now
would we?" he replied with a grin.

Scully was not so easily amused. "Lord give me strength," she murmured.

"Besides, I don't know if it's anything physical. Whatever killed those kids may
not have left any tangible evidence for a good reason: the killer herself may
not be corporeal."

"Mulder, you don't honestly believe all this talk about the cave being haunted
by an angry Kahuna, do you?"

"Scully, these legends are as much a part of Hawaiian religious history as
stories of the death and resurrection of a man, or of the Red Sea being parted
are to Judeo-Christian. You have your brand of faith, and these people have
theirs."

"I suppose. It's just . . . all this talk of a man slighted in love cursing the
object of his affections and her preferred suitor . . . lovers dying together
and spending all eternity in a cave . . . it's the talk of fairy tales, and
romance novels. And I'm sure it's brought countless tourists to these caves.
Young newlyweds on their honeymoons, couples on vacation. All seeking to spice
up the romance a bit by coming to the place where Meleahana and her lover
supposedly perished together. Uncle Stu probably made up the story himself just
to build up his business." Despite her incredulous tone, Mulder could still
sense a hint of wistfulness in Scully's voice.

"I'm sure the story has been around much longer than Uncle Stu," Mulder said.
"As to whether or not it's true . . . well, that's why it's called a legend. But
Kahunas still exist. And from what I've read, they're not the kinda people you'd
want to piss off."

"Or else they'll curse you, huh?"

"Let me put it this way: if a Kahuna starts belting out a tune, you know your
number's up."

"Hmm, that's funny, because that's exactly how I feel whenever you start singing
along to the radio. . . ."

"I've got four words for you, Scully: 'Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog'."

Scully cleared her throat in annoyance. "Well, lucky for you I'm not a Kahuna,
huh?"

"Or maybe your spell did away with a few mothmen."

"Maybe. Better not piss me off anytime soon, Mulder, or you might end up a limp
peel with some withered old coconuts." And with that, she continued walking down
the path.

Mulder stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. His seemingly prudish partner
never ceased to amaze him. Did she actually just offer a joke? Or was it merely
another attempt to give him a verbal jab? He decided that her comment a good
sign that perhaps she was finally coming around. All he had to do was keep her
talking--preferably centering on light and humorous conversation--and maybe they
could get back on track.

With newfound determination, Mulder hastened to catch up to Scully. He fell in
step beside her. As they continued on in silence for the next few minutes he
searched for the right topic. He ultimately decided to pick up where he had left
off.

"That knife to the heart Meleahana succumbed to could probably be considered
humane compared to what would have happened to her had she fallen victim to one
of Hi'akono's curses," Mulder said, hoping his remark was sufficiently
intriguing to catch the attention of Scully's natural sense of curiosity.

Scully sighed. "Okay, Mulder, I'll bite. Tell me more about these Kahuna
curses."

"The official term is 'Kahuna death magick', Scully, and apparently it's pretty
potent stuff. And it's funny that you should use the word 'bite'. . . ."

He paused a beat before continuing. "There are plenty of stories of these
priests praying people to death," Mulder explained. "One such spell is called
the 'Bite of Ka-moho-ali'i'. While many of the chants call upon the assistance
of a god or goddess, this one uses material objects. Some item, such as an axe
or a knife or even something seemingly innocuous like a belt buckle is used to
literally tear flesh from the victim's bones. The extent of the victim's wounds
depends upon the priest's casting ability."

"Well, maybe Scott and Kilikina were bitten to death," Scully suggested, though
her tone revealed her disbelief.

"Nibbling earlobes maybe, but if it was the spell, there'd still be bits and
pieces of flesh lying around. Not to mention plenty of blood. No, I'd sooner say
they were killed by the Fires of Pele."

"Pele, huh? Isn't that the volcano goddess Stu mentioned earlier?"

"Uh huh. The Kahuna chants a spell which calls upon Pele's assistance."

"Let me guess . . . Pele manifests in the form of molten lava and flows over the
victim," Scully offered.

"Close. Pele herself doesn't appear. Rather, she just offers a sort of . . .
spiritual guidance."

"Divine intervention, you mean?"

"I guess you could say that. Anyway, the victim experiences a searing pain as
though being burned alive. All he or she can do is writhe around and scream in
agony for as long as the spell is in effect."

"Sounds lovely. But I don't think that's what killed Scott or Kilikina either."

"What makes you say that?"

"The ground around their skeletons was hardly disturbed. If they had been
writhing around in agony, the dirt would have been tossed around--there'd be
grooves gouged in the surface by their convulsing extremities. Not to mention
the fact that the bodies would have been in contorted positions."

Mulder considered her pronouncement a moment. "Good point, Scully," he
acquiesced. "Well, I suppose there's always the good ole fashioned Death Chant,
like the one Meleahana accidentally cast upon her lover."

When she did not oppose his lead in, he continued. "This spell requires the
Kahuna to literally sing the victim to death. It involves an elaborate series of
prayers that are chanted either over the victim himself, or a part of him. This
part can range from a lock of hair or a fingernail clipping to a severed limb.
It's a long and complex spell that takes hours to perform, the speed of the
results being dependent upon the caster's level of success. But even for the
most accomplished Kahuna, the incantation does not manifest immediately--at
least the effects aren't noticed right away. Ultimately, the target of the spell
will slowly wither up and die."

"I don't know, Mulder," Scully said. "All these curses and death spells, fiery
volcano goddesses and angry cave spirits. . . . Aren't there any good spirits?"

"Sure, Scully. There's the aumakua, the ancestral guardian spirits of a Hawaiian
ohana, or family. In the Hawaiian culture, members of an ohana include blood
relatives, non-blood kin who are accepted by the family, deceased members of the
ohana, and the aumakua--"

Entranced by his own words, Mulder was not very aware of the direction he was
headed. He veered off to the side, his arm brushing against an outcropping in
the cave wall. He loosened a piece of rock, and a small shower of stone fell
towards the ground. The vibration disturbed a trio of bats that had been perched
several feet above them. With high-pitched screeches, the frightened creatures
took to the air--straight towards Mulder and Scully.

Mulder gave a yelp of surprise and dropped to the ground, throwing his arms
instinctively around his face and head. Similarly startled, Scully, too cried
out as she fell to her knees, arms flailing wildly in an attempt to swat the
animals away.

Both agents remained in their prone positions until the dust had settled and the
bats were apparently gone.

Mulder slowly got to his feet and dusted himself off. "Geez, that was a close
one, huh, Scul--" Her name caught in his throat when he got a glimpse of his
partner. She stood not a foot away, hands planted firmly on hips, scowling. What
froze him in his tracks, however, were her eyes. How they could be both cold as
ice and blazing with unbridled fury he could not fathom. Not that she gave him
much of a chance to ponder the matter. "--ly?" he finished in a whisper.

"Of all the stupid, careless, idiotic stunts to pull! You could have gotten us
both killed!"

"Chill out, Scully. They didn't even touch us."

"For your information, Mulder, bats' teeth are like little needles. Half the
time people don't even realize they've been bitten, especially since the bites
rarely leave any marks."

"Well, a little nibble never hurt anyone."

"Oh, and I suppose you've never heard of a little virus called rabies? It's been
suggested that it can be transmitted by aerosol. So even if they didn't bite us,
because these caves are so heavily populated and so damned humid, if present,
the virus is probably in such high concentrations that after moving the air
around like this we're sure to be infected."

Mulder slowly shook his head. "Granted, it is true that most cases of humans
contracting the rabies virus in the continental United States have been
attributed to contact with bats. However, rabies has been reported in all states
except one. Care to guess which one that might be?" He paused only a beat.
"That's right. Hawaii. So if you start foaming at the mouth, Scully, you're
going to have to find an excuse other than a rabid bat."

Scully's eyes narrowed, her ire for being bested on the accuracy of medically-
related facts obvious. "Bats? Bats! I'm not just upset about a couple of
goddamned bats, Mulder! There's also the matter of your being so hypnotized by
the sound of your own goddamned fucking voice that you weren't paying attention
to where you were going! If you want to be so oblivious to your goddamned
surroundings that you walk off the edge of a cliff, then fine, go ahead. Be my
guest I'd be glad for the peace and quiet! But I'll be damned if I'm going to
just stand by and watch you walk into the goddamned fucking walls and cause
another goddamned fucking cave-in and bury us both alive!"

Scully apparently had either run out of words or out of breath, because she
paused in her vehement tirade. She stood there, chest heaving, eyes shooting
daggers at Mulder, her body shaking in silent outrage.

During his lifetime, Mulder had faced his share of psychotic serial killers,
deranged lunatics, and genetic mutants. All paled in comparison to the visage of
his enraged partner.

As he was wont to do when he was afraid or uncomfortable, Mulder tried to
diffuse the tension in his characteristic manner. "A couple of pebbles do not a
cave-in make. What's the matter, Scully--feeling a little claustrophobic?"

"That's it! I've had it up to here with you!" she spat, holding her hand up over
her head. "I refuse to stand here and listen to you make lame excuses for your
reckless behavior! I do not appreciate your making light of a very serious and
life-threatening situation where the actions of one of us so greatly affect the
other! And I sure as hell refuse to stand idly by while you patronize me! I am
your goddammed fucking partner! As such, I am entitled to some goddammed fucking
respect! And if I can't get it here, then I'm sure as hell not going to stick
around a second longer!" With that, she turned on her heel and strode down the
path.

Panic gripped Mulder's heart--partly with the notion of having to navigate his
way out of the cave alone--but also at the thought of Scully walking out of his
life. "Scully, wait!" he called, heading towards her. He sure as hell was not
going to let her leave without a fight.

"Why should I, Mulder?" she growled, turning around to face him. "Give me one
good reason why I should stick around."

"Well, for starters, there's the fact that two of us working together have a
better chance of getting out of here alive than either of us alone." He took a
step towards her.

Scully immediately started to backtrack. "Is that the best you can do, Mulder? I
thought for sure you were going to say my scientific knowledge was still vital
to solving this case." She took another step backwards. "That's all I am to you,
right, Mulder? A means to an end?"

"Scully, don't--"

"Don't go? Thanks for the sentiment, Mulder, but it's a bit too little too late.
I've made up my mind. Feel free to beg . . . Not that I'm planning to hold my
breath on that one. . . ." She took another few steps backwards.

"Scully, wait!" he called, reaching for her even as he quickened his pace.

"Stay back! Don't you touch me!" she shouted, holding up a warning hand, as she
quickened her retreat. But when she took her next step, her foot continued
downward past where she expected the ground to be.

In her haste to get away from Mulder, she had not noticed how the path she had
been following abruptly ended, the small ledge it formed hidden in the shadows.
Less than two feet below, another trail continued in the same direction--albeit
at a downward pitch.

Scully's arms pin-wheeled about helplessly as she struggled to maintain her
balance on the ledge. It was no use, though; with a small cry, she tumbled
backwards. There was a loud boom as she made contact with the ground. Because of
her momentum, however--along with the downward pitch of the ground--she did not
stop there. Rather, she went rolling feet-over-head down the bumpy path, all the
while banging into small pieces of stone of various sizes.

"Scully!" Mulder shouted. Seeing her precariously balanced on the edge of the
path, he had sprinted toward her in what he knew would be a futile attempt to
catch her before she went plummeting over the ledge.

He ran toward the edge, catching himself before he went tumbling after her. For
a moment he stood as though transfixed, watching helplessly as she plunged down
the incline like a sack of potatoes. She quickly fell past the reach of his
flashlight's beam. Only when he heard a sickening thud along with a sharp bark
of pain did he know she had come to an abrupt halt.

Those two heart-rending sounds snapped him out of his daze. "Scully!" he
shouted, quickly lowering himself over the ledge and sprinting down the path.
For a moment, he skidded, and feared that he would follow suit.

*You won't do her a damned bit of good if you go tumbling and crash into her,*
he mentally chided himself.

He had to will himself to slow down and proceed more carefully. "Scully, are you
okay? Scully, can you hear me?"

Visions of a broken, battered, bloodied Scully filled his mind's eye. Was she
conscious? Was she even breathing? Dare he even wonder if she were still alive?

Hearing a low groan, he realized in relief that the answer to all three
questions was the affirmative. Approaching his fallen partner, Mulder shone the
light down in her direction. And his breath caught in his throat.

Nothing on earth could have prepared him for the sight that greeted his
unsuspecting eyes.


End Chapter 4