Title: Blessed Union of Souls II: Deep Water 11/17
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 11
We've compromised our pride
And sacrificed our health
We have to demand more
Not of each other
But more from ourselves
When the latest cave-in erupted full force and Commander Riskey ordered the
small band into the adjoining corridor, Mulder sprinted after Socks, running as
though the devil himself were at his feet. He passed through the narrowing in
the cave passageway only a few paces behind the SEAL, and saw him take a sharp
left.
Socks dove behind a yard-high rock, toward an area of the corridor that looked
slightly out of the way and hopefully protected. Seconds later, Mulder followed
suit.
Mulder knew that Toller and Robbins had been a few yards behind him. As
expected, a few moments later Toller arrived with the other SEAL on his back.
Depositing his teammate on the ground beside him, he looked toward the entrance
to the passageway.
That left Scully and Riskey. They should have been right behind Toller; they
could not have been more than half-a-dozen paces behind. Where were they?
Impatient, Mulder got to his feet, crouching over the top of the barrier rock to
get a better look at the entrance way. He sensed movement beside him, and
through the corner of his eye made out Socks' form.
"Maybe they're hurt!" Mulder shouted to be heard above the din of the rumbling
rock. He started to rise to go back to find his partner when he felt Socks' hand
grasp him firmly by the biceps.
"Too dangerous!" Socks yelled.
Shaking his head, Mulder began to pull away. He thought he could make out
movement just beyond the approach to the corridor.
Just then, a huge boulder fell in the opening, and the resulting tremors knocked
them both to the ground.
"We've got to get back!" Socks shouted. He tugged on Mulder's arm, pointing
toward the wall where Toller and Robbins were crouched.
With a final glance over his shoulder, Mulder reluctantly followed Socks,
crawling back toward the wall. He and the three SEALs huddled together against
the wall to wait out the cave-in.
They waited many long, agonizing minutes before the tremors lessened and then
finally subsided altogether. There was still a distant rumbling when Mulder
extricated himself from the group of SEALs and headed back for the entranceway.
"Mulder, wait!" Socks called. To no avail. "Goddammit, man, wait up!" He hurried
after the agent. "We should wait until we're sure the activity has fully
subsided."
Ignoring him, Mulder strode determinedly toward the opening, carefully
sidestepping fallen rocks and stalactites. He ground to an abrupt halt, and
Socks nearly piled into him.
"Mulder, what--?" Socks stopped short as it became suddenly, painfully obvious.
There no longer was an opening. Where once there had been an entrance to the
passageway they now occupied, there was now a wall of fallen rock, similar to
the one created during the first cave-in.
The one that had crushed Uncle Stu, killing him.
"Scully!" Mulder shouted. "Can you hear me? Scully!"
"RB!" Socks shouted. "Mark, are you there?!"
There came no answer. If they were on the other side--if they were alive--they
could not hear them.
"Scully!" Mulder continued to shout. "Dammit, Scully, answer me!"
"Mulder," Socks said gently. "It's no use."
But Mulder did not hear him. All he knew was that his partner was on the other
side of this barrier, possibly hurt--or worse. No, he would not think about
that. She was alive. She had to be. He had to get to her, help her.
"Scuuuullleeee!" Mulder shouted again.
Still, no answer. Not that he truly expected one.
Panic gripped his heart. She was trapped on the other side. She could be
bleeding. Or unconscious. She needed him. He had to get to her. No matter what
the cost, he had to reach her.
He dropped to his knees and reached for the nearest rock, trying to dislodge it.
"Mulder, what the hell are you doing?"
"I've got to get to her. She's trapped there, Socks. She needs me." He continued
trying to free the stone, scraping his knuckles in the process.
"Are you crazy, man? If you get that out, you could send this entire wall
crashing down on top of us!"
"I don't care!" Mulder shouted, clawing helplessly at the rock barrier. "Hold
on, Scully! I'm coming! I'll get you out!"
Socks watched the other man working futilely to raze the wall in a crazed,
frenzied manner. Odds were he would not be able to dislodge any of the stones.
Even so, he would likely abrade the hell out of his hands in the process. In all
good conscience, Socks could not just sit back and watch Mulder maim himself.
"C'mon, Mulder, stop it," Socks said gently, placing a staying hand on the other
man's arm.
"Get off!" Mulder spat, shoving the hand away. "If you're not gonna help me,
then get the hell outta my way!"
"What's going on?" Toller asked, walking over. "What's he doing?"
"Trying to get to his partner," Socks replied sadly. It was clear to him from
Mulder's frantic movements that it was not merely a partner he was trying to
reach; not simply a dear friend; it was someone who meant much more to him.
"He's totally flipped out!" Toller said, watching Mulder work at the wall in an
almost maniacal fashion, his knuckles now raw and bleeding.
"Poor bloke," Socks murmured to himself. He could not stand to watch any longer.
"C'mon, Mulder, this isn't doing anybody any good." He grabbed him by the wrist
to stay one of his hands.
"Let go of me, Socks."
"Not until you come back away from the wall."
"I've got to get to her."
"Mulder, there's no way you can reach her."
"Like hell there isn't!"
"Please, Mulder, I don't want to have to hurt you."
"Fuck off!" Mulder took a swing at him.
Socks was able to dodge the blow easily. Signaling to Toller, the two SEALs
grabbed Mulder and pulled him back away from the wall.
"Let go!" Mulder howled. "Get off me, you bastards! Let me go!" He was
struggling violently, trying to free himself from their grasp.
Socks sighed to himself. He had hoped it would not come to this, but Mulder's
borderline berserk behavior left him with little choice. He caught Toller's eye
and signaled to him. Toller nodded in understanding, and loosened his hold on
Mulder almost imperceptibly.
Releasing his own grip, Socks balled his right hand into a fist and punched
Mulder square in the jaw just as Toller broke his remaining hold on Mulder. Even
with Socks' pulling his punch at the last moment, the force of the blow sent the
agent sprawling to the ground. For a while, he lay there in a daze, trying to
figure out what had just happened.
Socks silently knelt beside him. He looked down at Mulder, slowly shaking his
head. "I'm sorry, Mulder, I really didn't want to do that, but you left me with
no alternative. Now, are you going to sit here and carry on a civil conversation
with me, or do I have to slug you again?"
In response, Mulder slowly sat up, rubbing at his sore chin. "Jesus, man! You
could have broken my jaw!"
"Believe me, if I had meant to, it *would* be broken. Now, are you going to sit
still and listen to me?"
Reluctantly, Mulder nodded.
"Good. Look, man, I'm sorry about your partner. Remember, my friend is over
there, too. As much as I wish it could be otherwise, there's no way we can get
to them. We just have to hope that they're alive on the other side."
"They could be hurt. They could be lying there, unconscious, bleeding, needing
our help."
"Odds are, they took cover, same as us. If not, then unfortunately there's not
much we can do about it."
"Don't you SEALs carry radios or some sort of communication device? Can't you
contact him?"
"Unfortunately, we haven't been able to transmit down here. Apparently, our
radios don't work this far underground."
"Then we have no way of knowing. . . ."
"We're just going to have to hope for the best. Assume that they can find an
alternative way out, and then signal us when they get topside."
Mulder looked unconvinced.
"Listen, Mulder, RB is the best SEAL CO I know. We went through hell week
together--we started out as swim buddies. I've worked with him on hundreds of
ops for well over ten years. They don't come better or more experienced than
him. If anyone can navigate your partner through these caves and get her to the
outside, it's RB."
"I hope you're right, Socks."
"RB has never let me down before. Now, c'mon, I think we're about an hour's hike
from the exit. We need to get moving and get Robbins to a doctor. You with us?"
Socks stood up and held out his hand.
Mulder looked from the outstretched hand back to the wall, eyes lingering there
for a long time. Finally, he gave a weary sigh and grasped Socks' hand. The SEAL
helped him to his feet. They went to collect Robbins and Toller and begin the
last leg of the hike they hoped would bring them out of the caves.
As they started to move out, Mulder gave the wall one last forlorn glance.
*Don't worry, Scully. I'll find you,* he vowed. *I won't leave here until I make
sure you get out of this cave, safe and sound.*
*****
For a while, it had seemed as though the ground and walls would never stop
shaking. Even when they finally did, Scully and Riskey sat clinging to one
another for several minutes longer, making sure that the violent activity was
over.
Scully's heart had been racing, and now as her breathing began to slow, she felt
it finally returning to normal.
"You okay?" she heard him ask, even as he released his tight hold on her. Taking
her by the shoulders, he moved her to arm's length so that he could get a good
look at her face.
Slowly, she nodded her head. She looked up at him, marveled at how calm and
collected he appeared.
"You sure? Not hurt anywhere?" She felt his rough hand lightly touch her cheek,
realized then that he was moving a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, tucking
it behind her ear. His touch was electric, suddenly setting her nerves on fire.
She found herself holding her breath, even as she savored the sensation and her
body's reaction to it. She gazed up at him, eyes locking with his own.
Abruptly, his expression changed to one of worry. "Scully, did you hear me? Are
you hurt?" His hands moved to cup her face. "Can you speak?"
Her breath caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to speak, found she had no
voice. She licked her lips, took a deep breath. "I- I'm fine," she whispered
finally.
"You sure?" he asked again.
She nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. I'm fine."
He smiled. "Good. You had me worried there for a moment that you had hit your
head or something." He let go of her.
She was sorry to no longer feel his warm touch. Closing her eyes, she took
another deep breath. *Pull yourself together, Dana. This is neither the time nor
the place to let your hormones take control.* "What about you?" she asked. "Are
you injured?"
"None the worse for wear," he replied, getting to his feet. "We should go catch
up with the others." He held out his hand to her.
Smiling, she took it, felt his fingers grip hers a moment before he helped her
to her feet. Even then, he did not release his grasp, instead holding tight as
he carefully led them through piles of rubble toward the tunnel entrance.
"Shit!" he spat, coming up short.
Or rather, the spot where the entrance to the tunnel used to be. In its place
was a pile of rocks that extended clear up to the ceiling.
"Oh, shit!" Scully echoed. "I don't suppose we can move this."
"Not unless we want to risk sending it all crashing down on top of us."
Releasing her hand, he began to carefully examine the barrier, she assumed
searching for any kind of opening. His search soon came up empty. "Socks!" he
called, shouting loudly. "Toller! Robbins! Can you hear me?"
They listened for several moments before he tried again briefly. Still, there
came no answer.
"Now what?" Scully asked.
"Now we backtrack the way we came, and hope the tunnel is not blocked. I
remember another fork in the path about a quarter-mile back. So long as the
other corridor is still open, we're going to have to follow it and see where it
takes us. Hopefully, to the outside."
"What about the others?"
"Assuming they made it through the cave-in unscathed, they should continue down
the path as planned. They should be able to make it out in another hour or so."
"What about us? Isn't that the only way out?"
"There are miles of passageways down here, Scully. You and Mulder came in a
different way than we did. There are bound to be multiple exit routes.
Hopefully, we'll find one of them soon, and get out of here only a few hours
behind the others."
"And if we don't find one of those exits?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. We can only try one trail at a time.
Now, you ready?"
"I guess so."
"Let's go find our way out of here." He waited for her to catch up, and then
together they set off back down the path they had been following for the past
hour.
Though he was anxious to end this mission as soon as possible, the commander had
to slow his pace, taking shorter strides to allow Scully to keep up with him. He
tried not to go too quickly, realizing how utterly exhausted she must be by now.
They walked together in silence for about twenty minutes, until they came to the
fork he had mentioned. Luckily, the other path had not been blocked during the
cave-in, and they were able to take the alternate route. Hopefully, it would
lead to daylight--though, without Socks' tracker, Riskey had no way of knowing
for sure until they got there. He guessed they would find out eventually.
"So, what exactly was this item you and Socks were discussing before the cave-
in?" Scully asked, finally breaking the self-imposed silence. "You said this was
a retrieval op, right?"
"Yeah. Our mission was to locate and recover this object."
"What kind of object?"
"You know I can't tell you that. It's classified."
"C'mon, Commander. I almost died with you in this cave-in. You could at least
let me know why. It's not as though your mission security hasn't already been
compromised simply by my presence here."
Riskey sighed. "It's a canister."
Scully's brow furrowed. "What kind of canister? What does it contain? Socks
seemed convinced that it was somehow responsible for causing the cave-ins. How
is that possible?"
"I don't know what's in it or how it's related to these cave-ins. All I know is
that I had orders to retrieve it. Obviously it's something that the Federal
government values highly. Anything more than that, I couldn't tell you even if I
wanted to."
"I suppose whatever's inside could be undergoing some kind of chemical reaction.
Perhaps it contains the components of some sort of explosive device, set to
detonate several mini-explosions over time." Scully paused a moment,
considering. "Hmm, I wonder if this could be related at all to the case that
Mulder and I are working on?"
"And what case might that be? I've been wondering what sort of investigation
could bring a couple of Feds to the depths of these caves."
Scully managed a small laugh. "We were brought in by request, actually. As you
may or may not know, this island and a nearby resort on Maui are owned by a
multi-millionaire named Craig Robinson. His late son, Scott, was in love with a
native girl named Kilikina Ainalani. It seems that both of their families
disapproved of their relationship, which forced them to have to meet in secrecy.
A couple nights ago, Scott and Kilikina apparently had a little midnight
rendezvous in these caves. And it was here that they mysteriously died."
"Were they killed? Or was it suicide?"
"They may have been star-crossed lovers, but I really don't see how their deaths
could have been self-inflicted. They were incinerated. All of the soft tissues
were melted off of their bones, leaving their skeletons undamaged."
"No shit?"
"Yes. But it gets even weirder. Their backpacks, which were less than a yard
from where the bodies were found, were also left untouched."
"That *is* bizarre," Riskey said, shaking his head. "Now, you said this happened
two nights ago?"
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
"Because that corresponds to the time the canister first appeared on our
sensors."
The pieces were finally starting to fall into place for Scully. "So, let's just
say for a moment that there's some sort of chemical reaction going on in this
canister. If so, it's possible that it created some sort of explosion or
discharge two nights ago that killed those kids. And when it happened, the
activity spiked on your sensors, making the government aware of its existence."
"Well, considering neither of us has any idea what the canister contains, this
is pure speculation on our parts. But yeah, I'd say that's a good working
theory. Especially given the fact that this canister seems to be the source of
all the seismic activity going on here. It's not too far a leap to suggest that
it could have also created a more concentrated, deadly blast."
Scully began to shake. A moment later, she was laughing rather loudly.
"What? What is it? Was it something I said?"
"No, I-I'm not laughing at you. It- It's just . . . it's not very often that
someone agrees with one of my theories."
"Yeah, I kind of got the impression that you and Mulder do a lot of arguing."
"Well, it's sort of the nature of our personalities to approach a problem from
different sides. During most of our partnership, it's been a friendly kind of
disagreement--a professional, intellectual sort of bickering. It's only recently
that it's become less than amiable. We've been having some problems."
"Every partnership goes through its share of rough spots. There have been times
when some of the guys and I have barely been on speaking terms."
"Well, Mulder and I have definitely had our share of ups and downs. But it's
never been this bad. It's never gotten to the point where I couldn't stand to be
in the same room with him for more than a few minutes."
"Well, whatever you've been feeling has probably been accentuated ten-fold by
the fact that the two of you were stranded alone together in these caves. That'd
bring any kind of underlying tension to a head. Maybe this forced separation is
actually for the best."
She chuckled. "Well, we definitely needed some space, that's for sure."
"So, you said you two were requested to investigate these murders? Now what sort
of specialty do you two have that your expertise was required for this
particular case?"
"Mulder and I work on the X-Files. They're unsolved cases that involve
unexplained phenomena. Things like the paranormal."
"Paranormal? What do poltergeists have to do with mysterious deaths?"
"Well, that particular area is more my partner's forte. Some of our cases have
involved people he suspects of having psychic powers. Along with the occasional
alien abductee. But the majority of the crimes we investigate just have unusual
MOs or perpetrators who are . . . unconventional."
"Eccentric, you mean?"
"That's one way of putting it. We deal with your usual psychos, serial killers,
and genetic mutants."
He stared at her, nonplused. "Did you say mutants?"
"Yes."
"What sort of . . . mutants?"
"The usual. The liver-eating, shape-shifting, pyrokinetic kind."
"Oh. Of course. *Those* kinds."
"I'm sorry, Commander. You're probably thinking I've got a few screws loose. But
I assure you that during my time on the X-Files, I've had more than my share of
strange happenings. I'm not one that's quick to be convinced; I'm a stickler for
scientific proof. Much of what we deal with has to be seen to be believed. And I
tell you, even though *I've* seen a lot of it with my own two eyes, *I* still
sometimes have a hell of a time believing."
"Actually, Agent Scully, you're one of the most level-headed people I've ever
met. You would have made an excellent SEAL."
She laughed. "I decided to leave the military careers to the men in my family."
"Oh?"
"My father was a Navy Captain. My brothers Bill and Charlie are both in the
service. Both officers, actually."
"Really? Wonder if I know them. Are they based near DC?"
"No. Dad passed away several years ago. Bill's in San Diego. Charlie's in
Florida."
"Oh, well. Guess that makes you the black sheep of the family."
"Oh, no. That would have been my sister, Melissa. She left home at an early age.
She was totally into that New Age thing. Crystals, auras, that sort of thing."
"Did she finally grow out of it?"
Scully did not reply. RB felt as though the temperature had just dropped ten
degrees.
"Agent Scully? Did I say something wrong?"
Scully's tongue darted out to lick the corner of her lip. "Missy .. . she- she
was killed a few years ago."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
"No, no, that's okay. I'm the one who brought her up. Sometimes it's hard, even
after all these years, to believe that she's gone." She grew silent again.
RB cleared his throat as he searched for a way to change the subject. "So, uhm,
how did you go from studying medicine to joining the Bureau?"
Scully blew out a loud breath.
"You said something earlier about it being an act of rebellion. How did you put
it? Ah, yes: 'To piss your parents off'."
"Well, sort of, but not exactly. By the time I was finishing med school, the
thought of practicing medicine just didn't excite me anymore. I had been
considering an internship and residency in forensic pathology at that point. The
idea of using science to gather clues, to put together pieces of a puzzle in
order to solve crimes, seemed exciting and intellectually stimulating. I put in
some inquiries as to the opportunities available at Quantico, and before I knew
it, the Bureau was actively recruiting me. I was torn for a while. My parents
definitely were pushing for me to go into private practice. But deep down, I
knew that just wasn't the life I was looking for. I knew that my future lay with
the FBI. And the rest, as they say, is history."
"Do you regret your decision?"
Scully was silent for a long time, mulling that one over. "I suppose there have
been times when I questioned whether I had made the best choice. But the truth
is, I love my work. My years with the Bureau--on the X-Files especially--have
been some of the toughest, but also some of the most challenging, exciting,
intellectually stimulating years of my life. At times, it's been a long, hard,
even painful journey, but in answer to your question, no, I do not regret my
decision. It's helped shape me into the person I am today. And for the most
part, I'm happy with who I am and where I am professionally."
She sighed. "The one thing I do regret was agreeing to come on this case. No
offense, Commander, but right now I'd rather be anywhere else but in this damned
cave!"
"None taken," he said with a smile. "I know the feeling."
Scully realized that she had been talking practically non-stop for most of their
hike. It had been a long time since anyone had taken the time to ask about her
thoughts, her life, herself--and listened so intently to boot. She had to admit,
it felt rather nice. At the same time, she felt somewhat self-conscious at being
the center of attention for so long. She decided to give the commander the same
courtesy he had afforded her.
"So, while we're on the topic of career decisions, what about you, Commander?
How did you decide to become a Navy SEAL?"
He gave a small laugh. "I don't know exactly. By the time I turned eighteen,
entering the academy just seemed to be the right decision. And when I graduated,
the SEALs likewise seemed like the right course to take. I admit it, I love the
excitement of the job: the jumps, the climbs, the diving, the thrill of combat--
especially if it's hand-to-hand. Working side-by-side with some of the most
skilled, loyal, devoted soldiers out there, knowing that if I gave the order,
they would follow me to the very depths of hell without even batting an eye. . .
." He took a deep breath, evidently basking in his pride for his men. "There's
not a better team of men out there. So suffice it to say that it's never a chore
to get out of bed and come to work in the morning."
"We should all be so lucky," Scully murmured. "So, you're one of those thrill-
seekers?"
He grinned. "Hell, yeah. I cannot describe to you the feeling of utter freedom
when you jump out of a plane at thirty-six thousand feet and feel the wind in
your face as you plummet toward the ground, hoping you packed your chute right
and it'll open when you pull that rip cord."
"Sounds more like utter panic to me."
He chuckled. "Or rappelling down a nearly-vertical cliff-face in the pouring
rain, where every hand- or foothold is that much more precarious because the
water has made it extremely slick. Knowing that if your line were to give way,
you'd go tumbling straight down into a deep, dark abyss."
"Makes today's little stunt sound like a walk in the park."
"Then there are the dives. God, I love the ocean. Whenever I go scuba diving,
I'm in awe at the wonder of it all. The sea makes you feel so goddammed small.
It seems to go on forever in all directions. If you were to lose your way, take
a wrong turn, you could be swallowed by the darkness. And you have no idea what
wonders--or what perils--lie waiting for you. At the same time, whenever I'm
deep-sea diving, even though I'm wound up over the op and getting our mission
done right, there's always a moment where I'm completely at peace. The ocean is
so quiet, so peaceful, so serene. There's a therapeutic quality about it."
This time it was Scully who smiled. Ever since she had been a small child, she
had loved the sea. It probably had a large part to do with the fact that her
father was a Navy captain. He loved the sea, and she loved him, and so his
respect for the ocean had been passed onto her, that reverence so high that it
had practically been transformed into worship. So it was not difficult for her
to understand the commander's deep, personal feelings about the sea, for she
shared them.
He seemed to sense this kinship they had just discovered. In that moment,
something changed between them. They went from being strangers to two people
with something in common: two people with a similar interest, a similar
devotion, that was so deeply ingrained that it was an integral part of their
personalities.
Scully suddenly felt more at ease than she had all day. Whereas before she had
regarded the commander with guarded wariness, she now realized that she could
trust him. Her reasoning was nothing more than a gut feeling, her intuition, but
she knew that she was not wrong. He was an honorable man.
"I'm sorry, Agent Scully. I'm probably boring you with all my ramblings about
the sea. You've probably had more than your share of it growing up."
"No, that's quite all right, Commander. As a matter of fact, it's been a long
while since I've heard anyone speak of it so highly. Ahab and I both felt the
connection, but somehow it was never quite there with Bill and Charlie. So it's
nice to hear you talk about it that way. It brings back a lot of good memories."
He looked at her questioningly. "Did you just say 'Ahab'?"
"Oh." Scully felt her cheeks grow warm, hoped that in the dim light the
commander would not notice. "I was speaking of my father. Ahab was my nickname
for him. He called me Starbuck."
"Melville fans, I see."
"*Moby Dick* anyway."
"Well, those are definitely original. Sure beats the hell out of RB."
"Are-Bee?" Scully recalled his teammates referring to him by that nickname, but
she had never bothered to inquire about its significance before.
He grinned knowingly. "RB. For 'Riskey Business.' Because I'm always taking
chances, always putting myself at risk. I can't help it, though. It's like a
drug."
"Better to be high on life than on any chemical substance." They laughed. "Well,
I'd say the name definitely fits you. Now, what about Socks? Where did that name
come from?"
"It's short for Socrates."
She raised an eyebrow. "Is he the philosopher of the group?"
Riskey laughed. "I never thought about it that way, but to some degree I suppose
that's true. Actually, that's his name. Socrates Xanthos."
"You're kidding."
"Nope."
"Hmm. Maybe that's why he and Mulder are getting along so well. They must be
commiserating about their given names."
"That why you call each other by your last names? Because he can't stand his?"
"Well, the first time I tried to call him Fox, he did ask me not to--in his own
unique fashion. But I think it's more because of the law enforcement tradition.
Same in the military, I'd think."
Riskey nodded.
"What about the other two--Robbins and Toller. No other monikers?"
"Well, we've taken to calling Robbins Six Pack."
"Let me guess: he can drink anybody under the table?"
Riskey laughed. "Well, it's true he can hold his liquor well, but that's not the
reason for the name."
"Why then?"
"On account of the fact that he's got the best set of abs this side of the
Mississippi. His stomach's like a washboard. Drives the ladies crazy."
"I see." Scully could not help but smile at the image. "And Toller?"
He smirked. "Well, in case you haven't noticed, Toller is a bit . .. uptight. I
don't think he'd take too kindly to us giving him a nickname."
"Precisely the reason to give him one. Tease him a little, rub him the wrong
way, get him to loosen up a bit."
"Well, there *is* something the guys and I call him . . . strictly behind his
back."
"Oh?"
"I suppose I could take you into confidence. Provided you promise not to reveal
the information to anyone--most especially Toller."
"You have my word," Scully vowed solemnly.
Riskey's voice lowered until he was speaking in a hushed whisper. "Well, we've
taken to calling him. . . ."
Scully strained her ears to hear him.
". . . Mad Cow."
"Mad Cow?!" she repeated, her raised voice reverberating off of the cave walls.
Realizing her indiscretion, she clasped her hand over her mouth, which helped to
hide her giggles. "Mad Cow? Where the hell did that one come from?"
"Well, Dennis is from the Midwest. Kansas, actually. His folks raise beef
cattle. Most of the time, he's an easy-going, even-tempered kinda guy. It takes
a lot to get him riled up. But when he does blow his fuse--whoo-ee! You'd better
duck for cover. He's like hell on wheels. First time we saw him lose his cool,
he tied Socks upside down to a tree. Took us over twenty minutes to cut all of
the duct tape off of him. And so he was tagged Mad Cow."
Scully laughed openly now. "Well, given the inside info, it makes much more
sense now. Good choice."
"Thanks. Wish I could take the credit, but it was actually Socks who. . . ."
When he voice trailed off, Scully looked up at him in concern. Riskey had
stopped walking and now stood slowly turning his head so that he could swing his
flashlight beam all around them. She followed his gaze as he examined their
surroundings.
"Commander? What is it? What's wrong?"
"I should have realized when your voice echoed so loudly before."
"Realized what? I don't understand."
"I was so engrossed in our conversation, I didn't notice how the terrain was
changing."
"Changing?" Scully looked at the ground, the walls, the ceiling. The rock looked
the same to her as it had the entire day.
"It may be hard to notice at first, because it happened so gradually, and we
weren't looking for it. But can't you tell how much narrower the tunnel has
become? We can barely stand shoulder-to-shoulder without touching both walls."
Now that he pointed out the change, it seemed perfectly obvious to her. But the
question remained, what did it mean? "Is that good? Does that mean that we're
near the entrance?"
"I don't think that's what it means. And depending on how you look at things,
it's not necessarily a good thing."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, how do you feel about heights, Agent Scully?"
"I prefer to avoid them when I can. Why do you ask?"
He laughed uneasily. "I don't think there's going to be any avoiding this one."
"This one? Obviously you know something I don't, Commander. Would you please
explain yourself?"
"How about I just wait and show you? As the saying goes, a picture is worth a
thousand words. C'mon, follow me. And be sure to watch your step."
Before Scully had a chance to protest any further, he started off down the path.
She had to sprint to catch up with him. As she followed him, she was very
mindful of where her feet fell. Thus far, the trail seemed as solid as it had
been during their entire journey.
She did become acutely aware of how the corridor was becoming increasingly
narrower. Before long, she could barely squeeze through, which meant that
Riskey, whowas nearly twice as broad in the shoulders as she, was now walking
sideways. He was gliding his hands along the wall as he moved, and Scully copied
his motions. He had slowed his pace considerably, and was now taking small,
deliberate steps.
At one point, Scully thought she noticed a draft at her back, and absently hoped
that meant they might be getting out of these godforsaken caves sometime soon.
After a couple minutes, he brought them to a halt. He turned his head to face
hers. Their noses were less than a foot apart, and she felt his warm breath on
her forehead as he spoke.
"How ya holdin' up back there, Scully?"
"Fine."
"That's good. Now, this is gonna be a little tricky. Just follow my lead: put
your hands where mine were, step where I step. Balance is the key. Take your
time, don't rush it. And whatever you do, don't look down."
Don't look down? Why shouldn't she look down? Precisely because he advised
against it, Scully found her gaze wandering downwards. It was only then that she
realized that the ground their feet rested on was no more than a foot in width.
Beyond it, lay . . . nothing. The draft she had felt was due to the fact that
there was no longer a wall behind them; the space was completely open.
My God! They were standing on a narrow path on the edge of a ravine. There was
precious little room to maneuver. If they were to slip, they would fall over the
edge and down into the darkness that lay waiting below. How far down did it
extend? A hundred feet? A hundred yards? A mile?
Scully broke out into a cold sweat. A wave of vertigo suddenly washed over her.
She felt herself faltering. Her foot slipped, her wet palms could not get a good
grip. . . .
"Whoa! Careful, Scully!" She felt Riskey's strong arm snake around her waist,
pulling her against the rockface. "Easy does it. Don't worry, I have you."
Closing her eyes, she rested her cheek against the cool stone.
"Deep breaths, Scully. Get the air into your lungs. Don't black out on me now."
She did as he said, breathing deeply. After a couple of minutes, the dizziness
had subsided. She opened her eyes, saw the concerned look on his face as he
stared down at her.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Y-yeah. Better now."
"Good. I'm gonna move my arm now, okay?"
"Okay."
Slowly, carefully, he released his hold on her, moved his hand back next to him.
For a moment, Scully thought she might panic again with the loss of the
makeshift lifeline. But she closed her eyes again, took deep cleansing breaths,
and soon had her fear back under control.
"Next time I say don't look down, don't look down. Okay?" Though his words were
every bit serious, there was an underlying kindness to them, an almost teasing
tone to the statement.
Scully could not help but smile. "Okay." She licked her suddenly dry lips. "So,
now what?"
"So now we cross this gully."
"Easier said than done, Commander. You're the risk-taking thrill-seeker. Me, I
prefer to keep my feet on level ground."
"Well, I'm afraid I won't be able to carry you across this ravine, Scully.
You're going to have to do it under your own power."
"Really, Commander, there's no need to respect my independence. I may be a
liberated woman of the nineties, but every now and again I appreciate some
chivalry," she joked uneasily.
She felt his hand come up to cover her own. She raised her eyes, and saw him
looking at her determinately. "You can do this, Scully. I know you can. Earlier
today, I watched you save Robbins' life. You had no fear. You were completely
confident. Just as you will be now. We'll take it slow, one step at a time. You
let me know when you're ready, and we'll just walk across. Okay?"
She felt his eyes on her, looking at her--through her, it seemed--right into her
soul. It were as though his confidence, his courage, were flowing from him and
into her. He thought she could do this--hell, he was expecting it. And for some
reason she could not fully explain, she did not want to disappoint him. She
could--she *would*--do this.
Taking a deep breath, Scully gave her head a slight nod. "All right. I'm ready."
He smiled down at her. "Okay. Here we go."
She felt his hand leave hers as he took a single step to the side. He watched
her as she took her first hesitant step, her foot moving to where his had been,
her hand taking his former hold.
"That's it. You're doing great, Scully."
He took another step to the right, and she followed. With his words of
encouragement, they slowly made their way across the gorge. Scully's back was
soon slicked with perspiration as she focused every iota of her concentration on
the task at hand. A trickle of sweat slid down her temple, made its way into her
eye. She stopped to blink, trying to clear her vision.
"You okay?" he called to her.
"Yeah. I don't suppose we're there yet?" she asked with a grin.
"Looks like we're about two-thirds of the way there. You want to stop and rest a
minute?"
"No, I'm fine. Let's just get across."
He took another step. His boot slipped on some loose gravel, and a number of
pebbles skittered over the edge of the ravine. He staggered for only a moment,
but quickly regained his balance.
Scully watched the entire incident helplessly. "You okay?"
"Y-yeah," he panted, hugging the rockface. "That one was a bit too close--even
for me. Watch your step there."
Slowly, they continued on their journey, step after painstaking step. After a
few minutes, RB brought their advancement to a halt.
"What is it?"
"Shh!" he snapped. He seemed to be listening intently.
Scully waited silently, though she heard nothing save the sound of her own heavy
breathing.
"Did you hear that?" he whispered.
"Hear what?"
"Listen, there it is again."
They both stood perfectly still, straining their ears to hear. It was then that
Scully heard it. A low rumbling, as though it were coming from a distance away,
like a far off storm. It seemed familiar somehow. A chill went up her spine, and
she shivered involuntarily.
"Commander. . . ?"
At that moment, a pebble fell down the rockface to land at their feet. It was
soon followed by a second, then a third. It felt to Scully as though the ground
were beginning to vibrate, even as the rumbling grew louder. No, it could not
be. Not now, not here. She looked up at RB, saw the same realization reflected
in his own troubled eyes.
"Oh . . . fuck!" she muttered.
"Scully, we've got to move. Quicken the pace. It'll be risky, but it beats
getting stuck out here to wait out another cave-in."
"That's why they call you RB, right? Let's move out, Commander."
Without another word, Riskey started to move across the narrow pathway, with
Scully only a few paces behind him. They had made it only another couple yards
when a particularly large rock came crashing down between them.
Crying out in surprise, Scully jerked her head back instinctively. She lost her
footing, and she started to fall.
"Gotcha!" RB shouted, grasping her wrist and righting her before she had gotten
too far out of reach. She did not have time to even catch her breath before he
was urging them on again.
The ground was shaking significantly now, and more and more stones were raining
down toward them. The occasional one struck them on the arm or leg. Scully
prayed none of them would hit them on the head. She knew it was just a matter of
time before one of them lost their balance and plunged toward the waiting
darkness below.
Riskey took another step, and then suddenly the ground completely crumbled
beneath his feet. The fault line must have extended several feet in both
directions, because they both lost their footing. Scully tried to grab onto the
wall for support, but the handholds were too shallow, and her fingers
immediately started slipping. Before she even realized what was happening, she
felt herself falling.
End Chapter 11
*****
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 11
We've compromised our pride
And sacrificed our health
We have to demand more
Not of each other
But more from ourselves
When the latest cave-in erupted full force and Commander Riskey ordered the
small band into the adjoining corridor, Mulder sprinted after Socks, running as
though the devil himself were at his feet. He passed through the narrowing in
the cave passageway only a few paces behind the SEAL, and saw him take a sharp
left.
Socks dove behind a yard-high rock, toward an area of the corridor that looked
slightly out of the way and hopefully protected. Seconds later, Mulder followed
suit.
Mulder knew that Toller and Robbins had been a few yards behind him. As
expected, a few moments later Toller arrived with the other SEAL on his back.
Depositing his teammate on the ground beside him, he looked toward the entrance
to the passageway.
That left Scully and Riskey. They should have been right behind Toller; they
could not have been more than half-a-dozen paces behind. Where were they?
Impatient, Mulder got to his feet, crouching over the top of the barrier rock to
get a better look at the entrance way. He sensed movement beside him, and
through the corner of his eye made out Socks' form.
"Maybe they're hurt!" Mulder shouted to be heard above the din of the rumbling
rock. He started to rise to go back to find his partner when he felt Socks' hand
grasp him firmly by the biceps.
"Too dangerous!" Socks yelled.
Shaking his head, Mulder began to pull away. He thought he could make out
movement just beyond the approach to the corridor.
Just then, a huge boulder fell in the opening, and the resulting tremors knocked
them both to the ground.
"We've got to get back!" Socks shouted. He tugged on Mulder's arm, pointing
toward the wall where Toller and Robbins were crouched.
With a final glance over his shoulder, Mulder reluctantly followed Socks,
crawling back toward the wall. He and the three SEALs huddled together against
the wall to wait out the cave-in.
They waited many long, agonizing minutes before the tremors lessened and then
finally subsided altogether. There was still a distant rumbling when Mulder
extricated himself from the group of SEALs and headed back for the entranceway.
"Mulder, wait!" Socks called. To no avail. "Goddammit, man, wait up!" He hurried
after the agent. "We should wait until we're sure the activity has fully
subsided."
Ignoring him, Mulder strode determinedly toward the opening, carefully
sidestepping fallen rocks and stalactites. He ground to an abrupt halt, and
Socks nearly piled into him.
"Mulder, what--?" Socks stopped short as it became suddenly, painfully obvious.
There no longer was an opening. Where once there had been an entrance to the
passageway they now occupied, there was now a wall of fallen rock, similar to
the one created during the first cave-in.
The one that had crushed Uncle Stu, killing him.
"Scully!" Mulder shouted. "Can you hear me? Scully!"
"RB!" Socks shouted. "Mark, are you there?!"
There came no answer. If they were on the other side--if they were alive--they
could not hear them.
"Scully!" Mulder continued to shout. "Dammit, Scully, answer me!"
"Mulder," Socks said gently. "It's no use."
But Mulder did not hear him. All he knew was that his partner was on the other
side of this barrier, possibly hurt--or worse. No, he would not think about
that. She was alive. She had to be. He had to get to her, help her.
"Scuuuullleeee!" Mulder shouted again.
Still, no answer. Not that he truly expected one.
Panic gripped his heart. She was trapped on the other side. She could be
bleeding. Or unconscious. She needed him. He had to get to her. No matter what
the cost, he had to reach her.
He dropped to his knees and reached for the nearest rock, trying to dislodge it.
"Mulder, what the hell are you doing?"
"I've got to get to her. She's trapped there, Socks. She needs me." He continued
trying to free the stone, scraping his knuckles in the process.
"Are you crazy, man? If you get that out, you could send this entire wall
crashing down on top of us!"
"I don't care!" Mulder shouted, clawing helplessly at the rock barrier. "Hold
on, Scully! I'm coming! I'll get you out!"
Socks watched the other man working futilely to raze the wall in a crazed,
frenzied manner. Odds were he would not be able to dislodge any of the stones.
Even so, he would likely abrade the hell out of his hands in the process. In all
good conscience, Socks could not just sit back and watch Mulder maim himself.
"C'mon, Mulder, stop it," Socks said gently, placing a staying hand on the other
man's arm.
"Get off!" Mulder spat, shoving the hand away. "If you're not gonna help me,
then get the hell outta my way!"
"What's going on?" Toller asked, walking over. "What's he doing?"
"Trying to get to his partner," Socks replied sadly. It was clear to him from
Mulder's frantic movements that it was not merely a partner he was trying to
reach; not simply a dear friend; it was someone who meant much more to him.
"He's totally flipped out!" Toller said, watching Mulder work at the wall in an
almost maniacal fashion, his knuckles now raw and bleeding.
"Poor bloke," Socks murmured to himself. He could not stand to watch any longer.
"C'mon, Mulder, this isn't doing anybody any good." He grabbed him by the wrist
to stay one of his hands.
"Let go of me, Socks."
"Not until you come back away from the wall."
"I've got to get to her."
"Mulder, there's no way you can reach her."
"Like hell there isn't!"
"Please, Mulder, I don't want to have to hurt you."
"Fuck off!" Mulder took a swing at him.
Socks was able to dodge the blow easily. Signaling to Toller, the two SEALs
grabbed Mulder and pulled him back away from the wall.
"Let go!" Mulder howled. "Get off me, you bastards! Let me go!" He was
struggling violently, trying to free himself from their grasp.
Socks sighed to himself. He had hoped it would not come to this, but Mulder's
borderline berserk behavior left him with little choice. He caught Toller's eye
and signaled to him. Toller nodded in understanding, and loosened his hold on
Mulder almost imperceptibly.
Releasing his own grip, Socks balled his right hand into a fist and punched
Mulder square in the jaw just as Toller broke his remaining hold on Mulder. Even
with Socks' pulling his punch at the last moment, the force of the blow sent the
agent sprawling to the ground. For a while, he lay there in a daze, trying to
figure out what had just happened.
Socks silently knelt beside him. He looked down at Mulder, slowly shaking his
head. "I'm sorry, Mulder, I really didn't want to do that, but you left me with
no alternative. Now, are you going to sit here and carry on a civil conversation
with me, or do I have to slug you again?"
In response, Mulder slowly sat up, rubbing at his sore chin. "Jesus, man! You
could have broken my jaw!"
"Believe me, if I had meant to, it *would* be broken. Now, are you going to sit
still and listen to me?"
Reluctantly, Mulder nodded.
"Good. Look, man, I'm sorry about your partner. Remember, my friend is over
there, too. As much as I wish it could be otherwise, there's no way we can get
to them. We just have to hope that they're alive on the other side."
"They could be hurt. They could be lying there, unconscious, bleeding, needing
our help."
"Odds are, they took cover, same as us. If not, then unfortunately there's not
much we can do about it."
"Don't you SEALs carry radios or some sort of communication device? Can't you
contact him?"
"Unfortunately, we haven't been able to transmit down here. Apparently, our
radios don't work this far underground."
"Then we have no way of knowing. . . ."
"We're just going to have to hope for the best. Assume that they can find an
alternative way out, and then signal us when they get topside."
Mulder looked unconvinced.
"Listen, Mulder, RB is the best SEAL CO I know. We went through hell week
together--we started out as swim buddies. I've worked with him on hundreds of
ops for well over ten years. They don't come better or more experienced than
him. If anyone can navigate your partner through these caves and get her to the
outside, it's RB."
"I hope you're right, Socks."
"RB has never let me down before. Now, c'mon, I think we're about an hour's hike
from the exit. We need to get moving and get Robbins to a doctor. You with us?"
Socks stood up and held out his hand.
Mulder looked from the outstretched hand back to the wall, eyes lingering there
for a long time. Finally, he gave a weary sigh and grasped Socks' hand. The SEAL
helped him to his feet. They went to collect Robbins and Toller and begin the
last leg of the hike they hoped would bring them out of the caves.
As they started to move out, Mulder gave the wall one last forlorn glance.
*Don't worry, Scully. I'll find you,* he vowed. *I won't leave here until I make
sure you get out of this cave, safe and sound.*
*****
For a while, it had seemed as though the ground and walls would never stop
shaking. Even when they finally did, Scully and Riskey sat clinging to one
another for several minutes longer, making sure that the violent activity was
over.
Scully's heart had been racing, and now as her breathing began to slow, she felt
it finally returning to normal.
"You okay?" she heard him ask, even as he released his tight hold on her. Taking
her by the shoulders, he moved her to arm's length so that he could get a good
look at her face.
Slowly, she nodded her head. She looked up at him, marveled at how calm and
collected he appeared.
"You sure? Not hurt anywhere?" She felt his rough hand lightly touch her cheek,
realized then that he was moving a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, tucking
it behind her ear. His touch was electric, suddenly setting her nerves on fire.
She found herself holding her breath, even as she savored the sensation and her
body's reaction to it. She gazed up at him, eyes locking with his own.
Abruptly, his expression changed to one of worry. "Scully, did you hear me? Are
you hurt?" His hands moved to cup her face. "Can you speak?"
Her breath caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to speak, found she had no
voice. She licked her lips, took a deep breath. "I- I'm fine," she whispered
finally.
"You sure?" he asked again.
She nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. I'm fine."
He smiled. "Good. You had me worried there for a moment that you had hit your
head or something." He let go of her.
She was sorry to no longer feel his warm touch. Closing her eyes, she took
another deep breath. *Pull yourself together, Dana. This is neither the time nor
the place to let your hormones take control.* "What about you?" she asked. "Are
you injured?"
"None the worse for wear," he replied, getting to his feet. "We should go catch
up with the others." He held out his hand to her.
Smiling, she took it, felt his fingers grip hers a moment before he helped her
to her feet. Even then, he did not release his grasp, instead holding tight as
he carefully led them through piles of rubble toward the tunnel entrance.
"Shit!" he spat, coming up short.
Or rather, the spot where the entrance to the tunnel used to be. In its place
was a pile of rocks that extended clear up to the ceiling.
"Oh, shit!" Scully echoed. "I don't suppose we can move this."
"Not unless we want to risk sending it all crashing down on top of us."
Releasing her hand, he began to carefully examine the barrier, she assumed
searching for any kind of opening. His search soon came up empty. "Socks!" he
called, shouting loudly. "Toller! Robbins! Can you hear me?"
They listened for several moments before he tried again briefly. Still, there
came no answer.
"Now what?" Scully asked.
"Now we backtrack the way we came, and hope the tunnel is not blocked. I
remember another fork in the path about a quarter-mile back. So long as the
other corridor is still open, we're going to have to follow it and see where it
takes us. Hopefully, to the outside."
"What about the others?"
"Assuming they made it through the cave-in unscathed, they should continue down
the path as planned. They should be able to make it out in another hour or so."
"What about us? Isn't that the only way out?"
"There are miles of passageways down here, Scully. You and Mulder came in a
different way than we did. There are bound to be multiple exit routes.
Hopefully, we'll find one of them soon, and get out of here only a few hours
behind the others."
"And if we don't find one of those exits?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. We can only try one trail at a time.
Now, you ready?"
"I guess so."
"Let's go find our way out of here." He waited for her to catch up, and then
together they set off back down the path they had been following for the past
hour.
Though he was anxious to end this mission as soon as possible, the commander had
to slow his pace, taking shorter strides to allow Scully to keep up with him. He
tried not to go too quickly, realizing how utterly exhausted she must be by now.
They walked together in silence for about twenty minutes, until they came to the
fork he had mentioned. Luckily, the other path had not been blocked during the
cave-in, and they were able to take the alternate route. Hopefully, it would
lead to daylight--though, without Socks' tracker, Riskey had no way of knowing
for sure until they got there. He guessed they would find out eventually.
"So, what exactly was this item you and Socks were discussing before the cave-
in?" Scully asked, finally breaking the self-imposed silence. "You said this was
a retrieval op, right?"
"Yeah. Our mission was to locate and recover this object."
"What kind of object?"
"You know I can't tell you that. It's classified."
"C'mon, Commander. I almost died with you in this cave-in. You could at least
let me know why. It's not as though your mission security hasn't already been
compromised simply by my presence here."
Riskey sighed. "It's a canister."
Scully's brow furrowed. "What kind of canister? What does it contain? Socks
seemed convinced that it was somehow responsible for causing the cave-ins. How
is that possible?"
"I don't know what's in it or how it's related to these cave-ins. All I know is
that I had orders to retrieve it. Obviously it's something that the Federal
government values highly. Anything more than that, I couldn't tell you even if I
wanted to."
"I suppose whatever's inside could be undergoing some kind of chemical reaction.
Perhaps it contains the components of some sort of explosive device, set to
detonate several mini-explosions over time." Scully paused a moment,
considering. "Hmm, I wonder if this could be related at all to the case that
Mulder and I are working on?"
"And what case might that be? I've been wondering what sort of investigation
could bring a couple of Feds to the depths of these caves."
Scully managed a small laugh. "We were brought in by request, actually. As you
may or may not know, this island and a nearby resort on Maui are owned by a
multi-millionaire named Craig Robinson. His late son, Scott, was in love with a
native girl named Kilikina Ainalani. It seems that both of their families
disapproved of their relationship, which forced them to have to meet in secrecy.
A couple nights ago, Scott and Kilikina apparently had a little midnight
rendezvous in these caves. And it was here that they mysteriously died."
"Were they killed? Or was it suicide?"
"They may have been star-crossed lovers, but I really don't see how their deaths
could have been self-inflicted. They were incinerated. All of the soft tissues
were melted off of their bones, leaving their skeletons undamaged."
"No shit?"
"Yes. But it gets even weirder. Their backpacks, which were less than a yard
from where the bodies were found, were also left untouched."
"That *is* bizarre," Riskey said, shaking his head. "Now, you said this happened
two nights ago?"
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
"Because that corresponds to the time the canister first appeared on our
sensors."
The pieces were finally starting to fall into place for Scully. "So, let's just
say for a moment that there's some sort of chemical reaction going on in this
canister. If so, it's possible that it created some sort of explosion or
discharge two nights ago that killed those kids. And when it happened, the
activity spiked on your sensors, making the government aware of its existence."
"Well, considering neither of us has any idea what the canister contains, this
is pure speculation on our parts. But yeah, I'd say that's a good working
theory. Especially given the fact that this canister seems to be the source of
all the seismic activity going on here. It's not too far a leap to suggest that
it could have also created a more concentrated, deadly blast."
Scully began to shake. A moment later, she was laughing rather loudly.
"What? What is it? Was it something I said?"
"No, I-I'm not laughing at you. It- It's just . . . it's not very often that
someone agrees with one of my theories."
"Yeah, I kind of got the impression that you and Mulder do a lot of arguing."
"Well, it's sort of the nature of our personalities to approach a problem from
different sides. During most of our partnership, it's been a friendly kind of
disagreement--a professional, intellectual sort of bickering. It's only recently
that it's become less than amiable. We've been having some problems."
"Every partnership goes through its share of rough spots. There have been times
when some of the guys and I have barely been on speaking terms."
"Well, Mulder and I have definitely had our share of ups and downs. But it's
never been this bad. It's never gotten to the point where I couldn't stand to be
in the same room with him for more than a few minutes."
"Well, whatever you've been feeling has probably been accentuated ten-fold by
the fact that the two of you were stranded alone together in these caves. That'd
bring any kind of underlying tension to a head. Maybe this forced separation is
actually for the best."
She chuckled. "Well, we definitely needed some space, that's for sure."
"So, you said you two were requested to investigate these murders? Now what sort
of specialty do you two have that your expertise was required for this
particular case?"
"Mulder and I work on the X-Files. They're unsolved cases that involve
unexplained phenomena. Things like the paranormal."
"Paranormal? What do poltergeists have to do with mysterious deaths?"
"Well, that particular area is more my partner's forte. Some of our cases have
involved people he suspects of having psychic powers. Along with the occasional
alien abductee. But the majority of the crimes we investigate just have unusual
MOs or perpetrators who are . . . unconventional."
"Eccentric, you mean?"
"That's one way of putting it. We deal with your usual psychos, serial killers,
and genetic mutants."
He stared at her, nonplused. "Did you say mutants?"
"Yes."
"What sort of . . . mutants?"
"The usual. The liver-eating, shape-shifting, pyrokinetic kind."
"Oh. Of course. *Those* kinds."
"I'm sorry, Commander. You're probably thinking I've got a few screws loose. But
I assure you that during my time on the X-Files, I've had more than my share of
strange happenings. I'm not one that's quick to be convinced; I'm a stickler for
scientific proof. Much of what we deal with has to be seen to be believed. And I
tell you, even though *I've* seen a lot of it with my own two eyes, *I* still
sometimes have a hell of a time believing."
"Actually, Agent Scully, you're one of the most level-headed people I've ever
met. You would have made an excellent SEAL."
She laughed. "I decided to leave the military careers to the men in my family."
"Oh?"
"My father was a Navy Captain. My brothers Bill and Charlie are both in the
service. Both officers, actually."
"Really? Wonder if I know them. Are they based near DC?"
"No. Dad passed away several years ago. Bill's in San Diego. Charlie's in
Florida."
"Oh, well. Guess that makes you the black sheep of the family."
"Oh, no. That would have been my sister, Melissa. She left home at an early age.
She was totally into that New Age thing. Crystals, auras, that sort of thing."
"Did she finally grow out of it?"
Scully did not reply. RB felt as though the temperature had just dropped ten
degrees.
"Agent Scully? Did I say something wrong?"
Scully's tongue darted out to lick the corner of her lip. "Missy .. . she- she
was killed a few years ago."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
"No, no, that's okay. I'm the one who brought her up. Sometimes it's hard, even
after all these years, to believe that she's gone." She grew silent again.
RB cleared his throat as he searched for a way to change the subject. "So, uhm,
how did you go from studying medicine to joining the Bureau?"
Scully blew out a loud breath.
"You said something earlier about it being an act of rebellion. How did you put
it? Ah, yes: 'To piss your parents off'."
"Well, sort of, but not exactly. By the time I was finishing med school, the
thought of practicing medicine just didn't excite me anymore. I had been
considering an internship and residency in forensic pathology at that point. The
idea of using science to gather clues, to put together pieces of a puzzle in
order to solve crimes, seemed exciting and intellectually stimulating. I put in
some inquiries as to the opportunities available at Quantico, and before I knew
it, the Bureau was actively recruiting me. I was torn for a while. My parents
definitely were pushing for me to go into private practice. But deep down, I
knew that just wasn't the life I was looking for. I knew that my future lay with
the FBI. And the rest, as they say, is history."
"Do you regret your decision?"
Scully was silent for a long time, mulling that one over. "I suppose there have
been times when I questioned whether I had made the best choice. But the truth
is, I love my work. My years with the Bureau--on the X-Files especially--have
been some of the toughest, but also some of the most challenging, exciting,
intellectually stimulating years of my life. At times, it's been a long, hard,
even painful journey, but in answer to your question, no, I do not regret my
decision. It's helped shape me into the person I am today. And for the most
part, I'm happy with who I am and where I am professionally."
She sighed. "The one thing I do regret was agreeing to come on this case. No
offense, Commander, but right now I'd rather be anywhere else but in this damned
cave!"
"None taken," he said with a smile. "I know the feeling."
Scully realized that she had been talking practically non-stop for most of their
hike. It had been a long time since anyone had taken the time to ask about her
thoughts, her life, herself--and listened so intently to boot. She had to admit,
it felt rather nice. At the same time, she felt somewhat self-conscious at being
the center of attention for so long. She decided to give the commander the same
courtesy he had afforded her.
"So, while we're on the topic of career decisions, what about you, Commander?
How did you decide to become a Navy SEAL?"
He gave a small laugh. "I don't know exactly. By the time I turned eighteen,
entering the academy just seemed to be the right decision. And when I graduated,
the SEALs likewise seemed like the right course to take. I admit it, I love the
excitement of the job: the jumps, the climbs, the diving, the thrill of combat--
especially if it's hand-to-hand. Working side-by-side with some of the most
skilled, loyal, devoted soldiers out there, knowing that if I gave the order,
they would follow me to the very depths of hell without even batting an eye. . .
." He took a deep breath, evidently basking in his pride for his men. "There's
not a better team of men out there. So suffice it to say that it's never a chore
to get out of bed and come to work in the morning."
"We should all be so lucky," Scully murmured. "So, you're one of those thrill-
seekers?"
He grinned. "Hell, yeah. I cannot describe to you the feeling of utter freedom
when you jump out of a plane at thirty-six thousand feet and feel the wind in
your face as you plummet toward the ground, hoping you packed your chute right
and it'll open when you pull that rip cord."
"Sounds more like utter panic to me."
He chuckled. "Or rappelling down a nearly-vertical cliff-face in the pouring
rain, where every hand- or foothold is that much more precarious because the
water has made it extremely slick. Knowing that if your line were to give way,
you'd go tumbling straight down into a deep, dark abyss."
"Makes today's little stunt sound like a walk in the park."
"Then there are the dives. God, I love the ocean. Whenever I go scuba diving,
I'm in awe at the wonder of it all. The sea makes you feel so goddammed small.
It seems to go on forever in all directions. If you were to lose your way, take
a wrong turn, you could be swallowed by the darkness. And you have no idea what
wonders--or what perils--lie waiting for you. At the same time, whenever I'm
deep-sea diving, even though I'm wound up over the op and getting our mission
done right, there's always a moment where I'm completely at peace. The ocean is
so quiet, so peaceful, so serene. There's a therapeutic quality about it."
This time it was Scully who smiled. Ever since she had been a small child, she
had loved the sea. It probably had a large part to do with the fact that her
father was a Navy captain. He loved the sea, and she loved him, and so his
respect for the ocean had been passed onto her, that reverence so high that it
had practically been transformed into worship. So it was not difficult for her
to understand the commander's deep, personal feelings about the sea, for she
shared them.
He seemed to sense this kinship they had just discovered. In that moment,
something changed between them. They went from being strangers to two people
with something in common: two people with a similar interest, a similar
devotion, that was so deeply ingrained that it was an integral part of their
personalities.
Scully suddenly felt more at ease than she had all day. Whereas before she had
regarded the commander with guarded wariness, she now realized that she could
trust him. Her reasoning was nothing more than a gut feeling, her intuition, but
she knew that she was not wrong. He was an honorable man.
"I'm sorry, Agent Scully. I'm probably boring you with all my ramblings about
the sea. You've probably had more than your share of it growing up."
"No, that's quite all right, Commander. As a matter of fact, it's been a long
while since I've heard anyone speak of it so highly. Ahab and I both felt the
connection, but somehow it was never quite there with Bill and Charlie. So it's
nice to hear you talk about it that way. It brings back a lot of good memories."
He looked at her questioningly. "Did you just say 'Ahab'?"
"Oh." Scully felt her cheeks grow warm, hoped that in the dim light the
commander would not notice. "I was speaking of my father. Ahab was my nickname
for him. He called me Starbuck."
"Melville fans, I see."
"*Moby Dick* anyway."
"Well, those are definitely original. Sure beats the hell out of RB."
"Are-Bee?" Scully recalled his teammates referring to him by that nickname, but
she had never bothered to inquire about its significance before.
He grinned knowingly. "RB. For 'Riskey Business.' Because I'm always taking
chances, always putting myself at risk. I can't help it, though. It's like a
drug."
"Better to be high on life than on any chemical substance." They laughed. "Well,
I'd say the name definitely fits you. Now, what about Socks? Where did that name
come from?"
"It's short for Socrates."
She raised an eyebrow. "Is he the philosopher of the group?"
Riskey laughed. "I never thought about it that way, but to some degree I suppose
that's true. Actually, that's his name. Socrates Xanthos."
"You're kidding."
"Nope."
"Hmm. Maybe that's why he and Mulder are getting along so well. They must be
commiserating about their given names."
"That why you call each other by your last names? Because he can't stand his?"
"Well, the first time I tried to call him Fox, he did ask me not to--in his own
unique fashion. But I think it's more because of the law enforcement tradition.
Same in the military, I'd think."
Riskey nodded.
"What about the other two--Robbins and Toller. No other monikers?"
"Well, we've taken to calling Robbins Six Pack."
"Let me guess: he can drink anybody under the table?"
Riskey laughed. "Well, it's true he can hold his liquor well, but that's not the
reason for the name."
"Why then?"
"On account of the fact that he's got the best set of abs this side of the
Mississippi. His stomach's like a washboard. Drives the ladies crazy."
"I see." Scully could not help but smile at the image. "And Toller?"
He smirked. "Well, in case you haven't noticed, Toller is a bit . .. uptight. I
don't think he'd take too kindly to us giving him a nickname."
"Precisely the reason to give him one. Tease him a little, rub him the wrong
way, get him to loosen up a bit."
"Well, there *is* something the guys and I call him . . . strictly behind his
back."
"Oh?"
"I suppose I could take you into confidence. Provided you promise not to reveal
the information to anyone--most especially Toller."
"You have my word," Scully vowed solemnly.
Riskey's voice lowered until he was speaking in a hushed whisper. "Well, we've
taken to calling him. . . ."
Scully strained her ears to hear him.
". . . Mad Cow."
"Mad Cow?!" she repeated, her raised voice reverberating off of the cave walls.
Realizing her indiscretion, she clasped her hand over her mouth, which helped to
hide her giggles. "Mad Cow? Where the hell did that one come from?"
"Well, Dennis is from the Midwest. Kansas, actually. His folks raise beef
cattle. Most of the time, he's an easy-going, even-tempered kinda guy. It takes
a lot to get him riled up. But when he does blow his fuse--whoo-ee! You'd better
duck for cover. He's like hell on wheels. First time we saw him lose his cool,
he tied Socks upside down to a tree. Took us over twenty minutes to cut all of
the duct tape off of him. And so he was tagged Mad Cow."
Scully laughed openly now. "Well, given the inside info, it makes much more
sense now. Good choice."
"Thanks. Wish I could take the credit, but it was actually Socks who. . . ."
When he voice trailed off, Scully looked up at him in concern. Riskey had
stopped walking and now stood slowly turning his head so that he could swing his
flashlight beam all around them. She followed his gaze as he examined their
surroundings.
"Commander? What is it? What's wrong?"
"I should have realized when your voice echoed so loudly before."
"Realized what? I don't understand."
"I was so engrossed in our conversation, I didn't notice how the terrain was
changing."
"Changing?" Scully looked at the ground, the walls, the ceiling. The rock looked
the same to her as it had the entire day.
"It may be hard to notice at first, because it happened so gradually, and we
weren't looking for it. But can't you tell how much narrower the tunnel has
become? We can barely stand shoulder-to-shoulder without touching both walls."
Now that he pointed out the change, it seemed perfectly obvious to her. But the
question remained, what did it mean? "Is that good? Does that mean that we're
near the entrance?"
"I don't think that's what it means. And depending on how you look at things,
it's not necessarily a good thing."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, how do you feel about heights, Agent Scully?"
"I prefer to avoid them when I can. Why do you ask?"
He laughed uneasily. "I don't think there's going to be any avoiding this one."
"This one? Obviously you know something I don't, Commander. Would you please
explain yourself?"
"How about I just wait and show you? As the saying goes, a picture is worth a
thousand words. C'mon, follow me. And be sure to watch your step."
Before Scully had a chance to protest any further, he started off down the path.
She had to sprint to catch up with him. As she followed him, she was very
mindful of where her feet fell. Thus far, the trail seemed as solid as it had
been during their entire journey.
She did become acutely aware of how the corridor was becoming increasingly
narrower. Before long, she could barely squeeze through, which meant that
Riskey, whowas nearly twice as broad in the shoulders as she, was now walking
sideways. He was gliding his hands along the wall as he moved, and Scully copied
his motions. He had slowed his pace considerably, and was now taking small,
deliberate steps.
At one point, Scully thought she noticed a draft at her back, and absently hoped
that meant they might be getting out of these godforsaken caves sometime soon.
After a couple minutes, he brought them to a halt. He turned his head to face
hers. Their noses were less than a foot apart, and she felt his warm breath on
her forehead as he spoke.
"How ya holdin' up back there, Scully?"
"Fine."
"That's good. Now, this is gonna be a little tricky. Just follow my lead: put
your hands where mine were, step where I step. Balance is the key. Take your
time, don't rush it. And whatever you do, don't look down."
Don't look down? Why shouldn't she look down? Precisely because he advised
against it, Scully found her gaze wandering downwards. It was only then that she
realized that the ground their feet rested on was no more than a foot in width.
Beyond it, lay . . . nothing. The draft she had felt was due to the fact that
there was no longer a wall behind them; the space was completely open.
My God! They were standing on a narrow path on the edge of a ravine. There was
precious little room to maneuver. If they were to slip, they would fall over the
edge and down into the darkness that lay waiting below. How far down did it
extend? A hundred feet? A hundred yards? A mile?
Scully broke out into a cold sweat. A wave of vertigo suddenly washed over her.
She felt herself faltering. Her foot slipped, her wet palms could not get a good
grip. . . .
"Whoa! Careful, Scully!" She felt Riskey's strong arm snake around her waist,
pulling her against the rockface. "Easy does it. Don't worry, I have you."
Closing her eyes, she rested her cheek against the cool stone.
"Deep breaths, Scully. Get the air into your lungs. Don't black out on me now."
She did as he said, breathing deeply. After a couple of minutes, the dizziness
had subsided. She opened her eyes, saw the concerned look on his face as he
stared down at her.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Y-yeah. Better now."
"Good. I'm gonna move my arm now, okay?"
"Okay."
Slowly, carefully, he released his hold on her, moved his hand back next to him.
For a moment, Scully thought she might panic again with the loss of the
makeshift lifeline. But she closed her eyes again, took deep cleansing breaths,
and soon had her fear back under control.
"Next time I say don't look down, don't look down. Okay?" Though his words were
every bit serious, there was an underlying kindness to them, an almost teasing
tone to the statement.
Scully could not help but smile. "Okay." She licked her suddenly dry lips. "So,
now what?"
"So now we cross this gully."
"Easier said than done, Commander. You're the risk-taking thrill-seeker. Me, I
prefer to keep my feet on level ground."
"Well, I'm afraid I won't be able to carry you across this ravine, Scully.
You're going to have to do it under your own power."
"Really, Commander, there's no need to respect my independence. I may be a
liberated woman of the nineties, but every now and again I appreciate some
chivalry," she joked uneasily.
She felt his hand come up to cover her own. She raised her eyes, and saw him
looking at her determinately. "You can do this, Scully. I know you can. Earlier
today, I watched you save Robbins' life. You had no fear. You were completely
confident. Just as you will be now. We'll take it slow, one step at a time. You
let me know when you're ready, and we'll just walk across. Okay?"
She felt his eyes on her, looking at her--through her, it seemed--right into her
soul. It were as though his confidence, his courage, were flowing from him and
into her. He thought she could do this--hell, he was expecting it. And for some
reason she could not fully explain, she did not want to disappoint him. She
could--she *would*--do this.
Taking a deep breath, Scully gave her head a slight nod. "All right. I'm ready."
He smiled down at her. "Okay. Here we go."
She felt his hand leave hers as he took a single step to the side. He watched
her as she took her first hesitant step, her foot moving to where his had been,
her hand taking his former hold.
"That's it. You're doing great, Scully."
He took another step to the right, and she followed. With his words of
encouragement, they slowly made their way across the gorge. Scully's back was
soon slicked with perspiration as she focused every iota of her concentration on
the task at hand. A trickle of sweat slid down her temple, made its way into her
eye. She stopped to blink, trying to clear her vision.
"You okay?" he called to her.
"Yeah. I don't suppose we're there yet?" she asked with a grin.
"Looks like we're about two-thirds of the way there. You want to stop and rest a
minute?"
"No, I'm fine. Let's just get across."
He took another step. His boot slipped on some loose gravel, and a number of
pebbles skittered over the edge of the ravine. He staggered for only a moment,
but quickly regained his balance.
Scully watched the entire incident helplessly. "You okay?"
"Y-yeah," he panted, hugging the rockface. "That one was a bit too close--even
for me. Watch your step there."
Slowly, they continued on their journey, step after painstaking step. After a
few minutes, RB brought their advancement to a halt.
"What is it?"
"Shh!" he snapped. He seemed to be listening intently.
Scully waited silently, though she heard nothing save the sound of her own heavy
breathing.
"Did you hear that?" he whispered.
"Hear what?"
"Listen, there it is again."
They both stood perfectly still, straining their ears to hear. It was then that
Scully heard it. A low rumbling, as though it were coming from a distance away,
like a far off storm. It seemed familiar somehow. A chill went up her spine, and
she shivered involuntarily.
"Commander. . . ?"
At that moment, a pebble fell down the rockface to land at their feet. It was
soon followed by a second, then a third. It felt to Scully as though the ground
were beginning to vibrate, even as the rumbling grew louder. No, it could not
be. Not now, not here. She looked up at RB, saw the same realization reflected
in his own troubled eyes.
"Oh . . . fuck!" she muttered.
"Scully, we've got to move. Quicken the pace. It'll be risky, but it beats
getting stuck out here to wait out another cave-in."
"That's why they call you RB, right? Let's move out, Commander."
Without another word, Riskey started to move across the narrow pathway, with
Scully only a few paces behind him. They had made it only another couple yards
when a particularly large rock came crashing down between them.
Crying out in surprise, Scully jerked her head back instinctively. She lost her
footing, and she started to fall.
"Gotcha!" RB shouted, grasping her wrist and righting her before she had gotten
too far out of reach. She did not have time to even catch her breath before he
was urging them on again.
The ground was shaking significantly now, and more and more stones were raining
down toward them. The occasional one struck them on the arm or leg. Scully
prayed none of them would hit them on the head. She knew it was just a matter of
time before one of them lost their balance and plunged toward the waiting
darkness below.
Riskey took another step, and then suddenly the ground completely crumbled
beneath his feet. The fault line must have extended several feet in both
directions, because they both lost their footing. Scully tried to grab onto the
wall for support, but the handholds were too shallow, and her fingers
immediately started slipping. Before she even realized what was happening, she
felt herself falling.
End Chapter 11
*****