The Better Part of Valor
5/9
Pittsburgh Field Office
April 25th
7:16 a.m.
Mulder was startled awake as an unseen hand grabbed the back of his collar and yanked
him into a sitting position. He cursed inwardly when he remembered that he had drifted
off while searching through the divorce records and birth certificates for the past fifty
years.
"What's this? While we're all working our asses off on this case, Spooky decides to
waste our time and sleep on the job!"
Mulder recognized Jacobs' voice, and he tried to break free of the tight grip. Jacobs
hauled him to his feet and spun him around. Mulder noticed another agent, Scott Preston,
standing in the doorway. Neither man looked happy to see him.
Jacobs gripped the front of Mulder's shirt and held him close. "What's the matter
Spooky? Did the aliens suck out your brain?"
Mulder squirmed, but Jacobs held fast. "Come on, Jacobs," he said. "Knock it off."
Jacobs' face grew a bright shade of crimson. "Giving me orders now, are you?" he
snapped. "Well, I hope you know that if Suzie dies, it'll be your fault."
"Let go!" Mulder protested.
Jacobs narrowed his eyes. He released Mulder, but gave him a vicious shove, sending
Mulder crashing into a chair. The chair tipped, and Mulder fell to the ground, striking his
head against the floor.
"What the hell is going on here?"
SAC Douglas burst into the room and took in the scene. "What the hell were you
thinking?" he demanded of Jacobs. "I know you don't like Spooky here, but he's with
the A.D.! And you," he continued, looking down at Mulder. "For God's sake, make
yourself useful! Every minute, every second you waste, a little girl is getting hurt. Now
shape up, or I'll have the both of you suspended!"
Mulder heard the words, and he tried to figure out why everyone was so angry. He heard
silence, then even more yelling farther away. He struggled to his feet, but his knees gave
out and he slowly sank back down. But instead of the cold, hard floor, he felt someone
hold him and place a hand on his forehead. He became frightened and tried to move
away when Scully's soothing voice broke through the fog in his mind.
"Mulder! It's all right. It's me, Scully. Relax, Mulder, you hit your head. You might
have a concussion, so stay awake."
"Scully?" Mulder turned his head and saw his partner's concerned face hovering inches
above him. "When did you get here?"
"In time to see and hear that little display between you and Jacobs." Scully's concern
shifted to fury. "When we saw Douglas going over, we thought he was going to handle
the problem. I'm sorry Mulder. I should've been here sooner."
Mulder tried to look for the source of the yelling he heard, but Scully refused to let him
move. "What's that?"
Scully grinned faintly. "That's A.D. Skinner. You thought he was mad when he yelled at
you, think again. He was irritated at Jacobs, but what Douglas did really pushed him
over the edge."
Mulder smiled back. "Remind me to stay on his good side," he mumbled.
"Bastards." Scully glanced up and saw Skinner enter the room. He slammed the door
shut and knelt beside his two agents. "Agent Mulder, are you all right?"
Mulder nodded and winced, regretting the action as it sent fresh waves of pain crashing
down on him. "Fine, sir."
"Please accept my apologies for-," Skinner began. He was cut off as Mulder waved his
hand.
"Forget it," he said. "Shit happens. Sir."
Skinner looked at him incredulously. "Mulder, in case you're not aware, this shit isn't
supposed to happen. During an investigation, agents are expected to work together, not
against each other. I have never seen more disrespect in all my years in the service and
in the Bureau together than I have these three days. This is intolerable."
Mulder sat up, ignoring Scully's protests. "Thank you for your help and support, sir, but
with all due respect, you aren't used to this. I am. And as much as I hate it, Scully is,
too. You can't stop people from thinking what they want. If they want to believe that it's
my fault Suzie's missing, let them. If they believe it's my fault that so many kids are
dead, I can't change that. Maybe it is."
The last was spoken quietly, but both Scully and Skinner gave him horrified looks.
"Mulder, no," Scully said. "You can't believe that you-."
"I'm not saying they're right or wrong," Mulder interrupted. "And I'm not saying that
what they say and do doesn't hurt. I'm just saying, you can't change people. You just
suck it up and go on."
Mulder climbed to shaky feet and straightened the felled chair. He trembled slightly as
he shuffled through several papers lying on the table.
Scully stood and watched him before making him stop. Mulder allowed her to guide him
to an ugly yellow plastic couch and sat wordlessly. Scully took his hands and gripped
them.
"First of all, Mulder," she said, "you have to believe me when I say that this isn't your
fault. None of it: the deaths, Suzie Parker's disappearance . . . it was beyond your
control. Working yourself to the point of collapse isn't going to help anybody."
Mulder eyed her tiredly as she pressed on.
"Secondly, Mulder, don't listen to Jacobs, Douglas, or any of those sons of bitches.
They're so dense that if Skinner told them the earth was flat, they'd believe him."
That earned a chuckle from Skinner and a smile from Mulder.
"And last, but certainly not least," Scully continued, "you're hurt. I need to get you to
the hospital to see if you sustained any damage."
"No," Mulder replied. "Scully, I'm fine. I just have a headache. There's no dizziness,
no nausea, no hallucinations, or any other indication of a concussion. Check me out
yourself. I can't afford to be laid up right now. Not when I'm this close."
Scully frowned, but did as Mulder asked. She checked his pulse, examined his pupils,
and checked for a fever. Finding nothing wrong, she said, "All right, no hospital. But I
want you to rest. By my calculations, you've slept as much as a few hours in the past
five days. I want you to take a nap while Skinner and I continue the investigation. You
can sleep right here if you want. We'll keep the wolves at bay so you can have some
peace. All right?"
Mulder didn't like the idea of sleeping while Suzie was still in danger, but Scully did
promise to keep working. And he felt sooooo tired. He leaned back in the sofa and the
last thing he heard before crumpling into the welcoming darkness was Skinner's voice
demanding a pillow and blanket.
5:51 p.m.
Scully stood and stretched, working out the kinks in her stiff muscles. For what seemed
like the millionth time, she walked over to Mulder's side to check on him. He hadn't
stirred since falling asleep, but she wasn't too worried. She knew that he needed his rest.
Sharp raps on the door shattered the delicate silence in the room. Scully held her breath
and watched Mulder carefully, but Mulder was in too deep of a sleep to be disturbed.
She smiled and began the routine of checking his pulse, gauging his temperature, and
checking his pupils.
Skinner opened the door and White slipped into the room, carrying more files and two
large, white bags. He set everything on the table and grinned at Scully and Skinner. "I'm
not sure what you guys did, but there isn't an agent in sight," he joked softly. "How's
our boy doing?"
"Still asleep." Scully joined the other two at the table and looked curiously at the bags.
"What's that?"
"Dinner." White dug into the bag and pulled out several foil-wrapped hamburgers and
boxes of French fries. "I didn't know your preferences, so they're all the same; ketchup
and lettuce. I also got the files you wanted."
"Great," Skinner said. "I say we eat first, then work later. What about Mulder?"
"What about Mulder?" Mulder was sitting up on the couch, rubbing his tired eyes. He
ran a hand through his hair and stood.
"He awakens!" White exclaimed. "About time. Hungry?"
"What time is it?" Mulder asked, sinking into a chair and cradling his head in his hands.
"About six." Scully pulled his hands away and took his head into her hands to look into
his eyes. "Headache?"
Mulder's first reaction was to deny that he was in pain, but he realized that lying would
serve no purpose. Scully would only get angry.
"Yeah," he admitted. "Six at night?"
"Uh huh," Scully replied. "You've been asleep all day." A pause. "You seem okay.
Just don't dance with the furniture for awhile."
Mulder grinned. "There goes my schedule for the weekend." He winced at the pounding
in his temple.
"I'll send someone for aspirin and water," Skinner announced.
Mulder was already searching through the papers that littered the conference table. "Did
you guys make any progress?" he asked.
"Not much," Scully answered. "We looked through everything and read your notes.
Based on what we already know and what you told us, Skinner, Kevin, and I created a list
of sixty men who fathered children and lost them through various purposes. And that's
just the men who live in Pittsburgh right now."
Mulder nodded. "Finally, we're getting somewhere," he commented. He lifted the
nearest file and opened it.
Scully immediately shut the file, lifted it, and put a hamburger and fries in its place.
"Not so fast there, G-man," she said. "You need nourishment. You haven't had real food
in days."
"I ate yesterday!" Mulder protested.
Scully gave him a pointed look. "Mulder, did you really believe that I wouldn't know?"
she demanded. "I heard you throwing up your dinner last night, and I'm willing to bet
that little trip to the bathroom after lunch wasn't just to powder your nose!"
Mulder stared at her, his mouth hanging open in shock. He recovered and shook his
head. "And some people think I'm spooky."
He lifted the burger to his mouth and took a bite. After carefully chewing it, he was
surprised that he was actually hungry. Mulder wolfed down the burger before the other
agents had a chance to begin their own.
"Geez, Mulder," Skinner said. "I've never seen anyone eat so fast."
"Take it easy on those fries," Scully admonished him. "You want those to stay put."
Mulder rolled his eyes and snatched a file to look at as he munched on his fries. He
found the list of names that Scully had mentioned and slowly began the process of
eliminating the suspects.
He had been working for about an hour when he suddenly jumped to his feet, startling the
room's occupants. He blushed slightly when he saw their eyes on him.
"Sorry," he said. "I, uh, I'll be right back. I need to make a trip to the little agent's
room."
"Need help?" Scully asked.
Mulder gave her a mischievous grin. "Are you coming on to me, Agent Scully?"
"Agent Mulder, if I was 'coming on' to you, you wouldn't have to ask," Scully shot back.
"You'd know."
White burst into laughter at the astonished look on Mulder's face. Skinner started to
laugh, but quickly turned it into a fit of coughs.
"Actually, I could use a break myself," he stated, deciding to save his agent from further
embarrassment. "Besides, now would probably be a good time for Agent Mulder to take
his aspirin."
Mulder suddenly remembered his headache. He had been so wrapped up in his research
that he had completely forgotten about the pain, but since Skinner mentioned it, it was
rapidly making up for lost time.
He gratefully followed Skinner from the room, noting that the hall was nearly deserted.
The agents on their way to and from different rooms passed by, but not without baleful
glares directed at Mulder. Skinner was given respectful nods and smiles.
Mulder arrived at the bathroom first and released to open the door when it opened
suddenly, striking his hand. Mulder bit back a cry of pain and looked up into the startled
face of Tom Jacobs.
Jacobs saw the A.D. and stuck his hand out to Mulder. "My apologies, Agent Mulder,"
he said. "No hard feelings?"
His expression was neutral, but his eyes bore hard into Mulder. Mulder accepted the
hand with his bruised right one. He fought to keep the pain from his face as Jacobs
increased the pressure.
With a final squeeze, Jacobs let go and hurried down the hallway. Mulder practically ran
into the bathroom, Skinner following slowly behind.
Mulder went about his business, mindful that his boss was nearby, then went to the sink
to wash his hands. He looked in the mirror and was shocked at what he saw.
He was a mess. His hair hung limply on his head. His face was gaunt and pale, and his
shoulders were slumped. Mulder splashed cold water on his face, then groped blindly for
a towel. He felt one pushed into his hands, and he wiped his face. When he opened his
eyes, he saw two small white tablets nestled in the palm of Skinner's hand. Mulder
swallowed the pills dry, cupped his hand under the running water and gulped down
several handfuls. When he finished, he wiped his mouth and tossed the towel into the
wastebasket.
"Thank you, sir," he said.
Skinner shrugged, then decided to change the topic. "How did you meet Agent White?"
he asked.
If Mulder appeared startled by the somewhat personal question, he gave no sign. "Kevin
and I met our last year at the Academy," he replied. "We were partnered in our criminal
psyche class to profile a killer based on information we were given. It was a major
project; it included suspects, working with agents from out of town, and we were given a
deadline. It was supposed to prepare us for 'the real thing'.
"Anyway, Kevin and I worked together, and we solved the case in about three days. It
was fairly easy to figure out. For both of us. I think we drove our professor crazy when
we tried to explain the simplicity of the case and how it compared to real cases."
Skinner smiled faintly, feeling slightly sorry for the unknown professor. "What grade did
you get?"
"B." At Skinner's skeptical look, Mulder continued, "The professor thought we could've
been a bit more cooperative with the other agents."
Skinner let out a tiny laugh as he and Mulder began to walk back to the conference room.
"Your professor probably thought you were cheating."
Mulder chuckled. "He probably wanted to have me committed after I explained how
easy the project was."
At that moment SAC Douglas came rushing down the hall towards them. Not even
looking at Mulder, Douglas met Skinner's eyes and said, "We have something that you're
going to want to see, sir."
"What is it?" Skinner asked.
"I found a package on my desk not ten minutes ago, addressed to all the agents working
on the Kid Killer Case," Douglas replied, using the media's term for the case they were
working on. "Inside was a little doll, no clothes, and cut up just like the kids. In the doll
was this."
He held up a white envelope that had Mulder's name on the front. Mulder took the
envelope, opened it, and read the letter inside.
I hear that you're working on the case now. I also know that you're
pretty good. Well, while little Suzie is an angel, you still better pray
that I don't kill her now and go after two or three kids a week. I dare
you to come find us, if you can. If not, not even God can save this
girl.
U-know-who
Mulder shook his head and handed the letter to Skinner. "He knows we're getting close,"
he said.
Skinner glanced through the note. "This is specifically addressed to you," he told
Mulder. "How did he know that you're on the team? The press isn't supposed to have
that information."
"They don't," Douglas said. "Which means our killer has connections to the law
enforcement. I'll take the note to forensics."
"You won't find anything," Mulder replied. "The killer didn't manage to escape with
murdering sixteen young children just to slip out now."
Douglas' response was directed at Mulder, but he kept his gaze on Skinner. "All the
same, we can't overlook any possibility. Also- there's a meeting tomorrow afternoon at
one. Hopefully your profile will be completed by that time."
He took the note from Skinner and took off in the opposite direction. Skinner looked at
Mulder, a question evident on his face. Mulder anticipated his words before Skinner had
time to form them.
"Don't worry, sir," he assured the A.D. "I have enough information to form a suitable
profile. I'll have it done in time."
"In time for what?"
Both men turned at the sound of Scully's voice as she walked up to them. She focused a
concerned look on her partner. "Why are you taking so long? You didn't get sick again,
did you?"
"No, Agent Scully," Skinner replied for Mulder. He brought her up to date on the
situation, and he saw her eyeing Mulder's innocent expression suspiciously.
"Looks like we've got a long night ahead of us," she commented.
"What!" Skinner turned on Mulder. "But you said you had enough information!"
"And I do," Mulder stressed emphatically.
"Yeah right." Scully faced the A.D. "Sir, with all due respect, I've been working with
Mulder longer and closer than you, and I know that when Mulder says he had enough
information, he'll be up all night putting it together."
"I wasted time sleeping all day . . ." Mulder tried to say.
"Catching up on the sleep you lost all weekend," Scully finished. "Well, if you're going
to stay up all night, then I'm staying up with you."
"I'll stay up, too," Skinner added. "The more of us there are working, the less we all
have to stay up."
Mulder slumped his shoulders in defeat and walked all the way back to the conference
room. He was surprised to find it empty. "Where's Kevin?"
"He was tired, so I sent him home," Scully answered, gathering up the files and put them
into Mulder'' briefcase.
Mulder helped to collect the folders as Skinner deposited their garbage into the
wastebasket. As they began to walk to their car, the conversation drifted to who would
drive.
"I haven't driven yet!" Mulder protested.
"Neither have I, Mulder," Scully pointed out. "Besides; you just took aspirin. It won't
do us any good if you fell asleep behind the wheel!"
"Scully, I'm-," Mulder began.
"Mulder, if you say 'I'm fine', I swear I'll hurt you," Scully threatened. "Then you won't
be in any condition to drive for a long while."
"Since I have the keys, why don't I drive," Skinner spoke up.
Mulder and Scully exchanged neutral glances, then shrugged.
Skinner hid a smile as he climbed behind the wheel. Mulder once again claimed the
back, stretching his long legs across the entire seat. Scully shook her head as she buckled
herself in beside Skinner.
As the car glided smoothly down the road, Skinner turned on the radio and flipped
through several stations before finally settling on an oldies station. The announcer's
voice finished relating the weather, and a new song began to play.
It was an old tune, Joy to the World. Skinner recognized the song as an old favorite. A
slight sound from the back caused the A.D. to glance in the rearview mirror at Mulder.
Mulder was nestled in the back seat, his head leaning back. His back was propped up
against the side of the car, and his arms were wrapped around his chest. A faint smile
played on his lips. Skinner realized that the sound he'd heard was a sigh of contentment.
Skinner looked at Scully. Scully was staring straight ahead, her eyes focused on one
point on the road. It took a few minutes, but Skinner finally saw her face turning a rich
shade of crimson.
"What's wrong, Scully?" he asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.
Scully looked sharply at him. "What do you mean?" she demanded.
"Nothing," Skinner replied. "You just seemed kind of . . . distant."
"Oh." Scully's voice was tiny. "It's nothing, sir. The song just made me remember
something. That's all."
Skinner waited, but Scully remained silent. He decided not to press. If she didn't want to
talk about it, he wouldn't make her.
Scully's thoughts were of a cold night in a Florida forest, holding her injured partner in
her arms shortly after he'd been attacked by one of the mysterious 'Mothmen'. She
turned around to look at Mulder. At the sight of his peaceful form, all embarrassment she
felt left her. She faced front and waited for the song to end.
Another song came on, and it took a moment for Scully to place it.
Twilight Time.
Shit.
Mulder began to breathe faster, his arms twitching. Scully's hand shot out and turned the
radio off. She began to hum Joy to the World, shocking the hell out of Skinner and
herself. She didn't care. Mulder was already calming down.
"Scully, what in the hell has come over you?" Skinner reached to turn the radio back on,
but Scully stopped him.
"No! Sir, please," Scully pleaded. "A while back Mulder and I were working on this one
case- well, I don't really want to go into it. But needless to say, that song triggers some
rather unpleasant memories. Trust me, sir. Don't turn the radio back on. Please."
Skinner stared at her, but finally relented. Scully sagged back in relief.
"Thank you, sir," she said gratefully.
"One of these days," Skinner said, "you're going to have to explain to me why you two
do the things you do."
Scully smiled faintly. "Are you sure you'd be ready to hear it?"
"When the time comes I won't be anywhere else," Skinner replied evenly.
He guided the car into a parking spot and turned off the engine. Scully hopped out of her
seat and stretched. Skinner opened the back door and gently shook Mulder's shoulder.
"Mulder, wake up. We're here."
When Mulder didn't stir, he shook harder, then looked to Scully for help. Scully
searched the ground, picked up a leaf, and held it up. Grinning wickedly, she said, "This
is where the job gets fun."
Skinner suddenly felt a pang of pity towards the younger man when he realized what
Scully was about to do. "Isn't there another way?"
"Nope. I've tried them all." Scully leaned forward and, ever so lightly, tickled Mulder's
face with the leaf. Mulder's face twitched, and he batted his hand at the irritation.
Scully wasn't about to be dissuaded. She leaned closer and tickled Mulder's nose.
Skinner saw Mulder's hand slowly move, but Scully wasn't in a good spot to see it until
it was too late.
Mulder seized Scully's wrist and pulled her effortlessly into the car. Scully let out a
startled cry as she collapsed onto Mulder's lap. Mulder immediately began to tickle her
until tears were streaming down her face.
"Didn't think I was serious when I said I'd get you back last time, did you?" Mulder
asked lightly, panting hard from exertion.
"I'll get you back for this," Scully replied, also breathing heavily.
The two looked up suddenly as a sound they never thought they'd hear reached their ears.
A.D. Skinner was laughing as he walked into the hotel.
Room 317
12:19 p.m.
Mulder removed his reading glasses and tiredly rubbed his face. He had finally finished
his profile after studying all of the information the entire night.
The killer was a forty-nine-year-old man named Joel McKay. He had been married for
six years to a woman named Hannah, and had two children: a son and a daughter.
McKay was also a cop at the time, and highly respected. Then, after a drug bust that had
cost him the life of his partner, his wife had left him, and had taken the children with her.
The son, Brian, had been six at the time while young Kathryn was nearing her third
birthday.
Not long after McKay had been discharged from the force because of recklessness and
unnecessary roughness. McKay hadn't been heard from since.
Based on the information and his own skills, Mulder had pieced together the reason for
the killings.
Hannah had had an argument with her husband, according to old reports by witnesses.
Hannah had said that she wouldn't allow McKay to dirty their children's pure hearts with
his hatred for his partner's killer that had grown into an obsession. Already having
packed their belongings, she had driven herself and the children away and out of
McKay's life.
McKay had grown more despondent at work until he was released. From there he tried to
locate his children, becoming successful and yet failing each time he drove to their last
known location before learning that they had moved on days, weeks, or months before.
He had finally caught up with his children fifteen years later. His children didn't
recognize him, and when he found out that they called someone else 'dad', he snapped.
He returned to Pittsburgh and began to kidnap any young child that reminded him of his
own. McKay spent the week raping the child and beating the child- an act of vengeance
against his ex-wife and her new lover. The he would gut the child, leaving nothing but
the heart as if to prove that his ex-wife had been wrong, that the child's heart was still
pure. Then McKay dumped the body where he'd found it and repeated the cycle.
Mulder glanced over at Scully. Scully was curled up in his bed, having fallen asleep
around six that morning. Skinner was on the couch, also sleeping. Mulder figured that, if
they were as tired as he was, he'd leave them be. He had taken off their shoes, collected
the folders surrounding them, and had draped blankets over the both of them.
He envied that they could sleep at times like this, when the guilt ripped his heart into
shreds. Mulder never slept. He never ate.
That is, until Scully came along.
She was his anchor to reality. But she was so much more than that. Mulder knew that he
was damn lucky that she had been assigned his partner. No one else ever gave a damn
about him, except for her. She looked out for him, took care of him when he needed it,
and stood by him.
For that, Mulder was eternally grateful.
Glancing at his watch, Mulder figured that he had enough time to shower and change
before attending the meeting and turning in his profile.
He debated whether or not to awaken Scully and Skinner for the meeting. Looking at
them, he didn't have the heart to do it. After all, their presence wasn't crucial. It was
merely a formality that didn't have to be extended to the agents at the field office.
Mulder settled for writing them a note, then disappeared into the bathroom for his
shower.
end 5/9
5/9
Pittsburgh Field Office
April 25th
7:16 a.m.
Mulder was startled awake as an unseen hand grabbed the back of his collar and yanked
him into a sitting position. He cursed inwardly when he remembered that he had drifted
off while searching through the divorce records and birth certificates for the past fifty
years.
"What's this? While we're all working our asses off on this case, Spooky decides to
waste our time and sleep on the job!"
Mulder recognized Jacobs' voice, and he tried to break free of the tight grip. Jacobs
hauled him to his feet and spun him around. Mulder noticed another agent, Scott Preston,
standing in the doorway. Neither man looked happy to see him.
Jacobs gripped the front of Mulder's shirt and held him close. "What's the matter
Spooky? Did the aliens suck out your brain?"
Mulder squirmed, but Jacobs held fast. "Come on, Jacobs," he said. "Knock it off."
Jacobs' face grew a bright shade of crimson. "Giving me orders now, are you?" he
snapped. "Well, I hope you know that if Suzie dies, it'll be your fault."
"Let go!" Mulder protested.
Jacobs narrowed his eyes. He released Mulder, but gave him a vicious shove, sending
Mulder crashing into a chair. The chair tipped, and Mulder fell to the ground, striking his
head against the floor.
"What the hell is going on here?"
SAC Douglas burst into the room and took in the scene. "What the hell were you
thinking?" he demanded of Jacobs. "I know you don't like Spooky here, but he's with
the A.D.! And you," he continued, looking down at Mulder. "For God's sake, make
yourself useful! Every minute, every second you waste, a little girl is getting hurt. Now
shape up, or I'll have the both of you suspended!"
Mulder heard the words, and he tried to figure out why everyone was so angry. He heard
silence, then even more yelling farther away. He struggled to his feet, but his knees gave
out and he slowly sank back down. But instead of the cold, hard floor, he felt someone
hold him and place a hand on his forehead. He became frightened and tried to move
away when Scully's soothing voice broke through the fog in his mind.
"Mulder! It's all right. It's me, Scully. Relax, Mulder, you hit your head. You might
have a concussion, so stay awake."
"Scully?" Mulder turned his head and saw his partner's concerned face hovering inches
above him. "When did you get here?"
"In time to see and hear that little display between you and Jacobs." Scully's concern
shifted to fury. "When we saw Douglas going over, we thought he was going to handle
the problem. I'm sorry Mulder. I should've been here sooner."
Mulder tried to look for the source of the yelling he heard, but Scully refused to let him
move. "What's that?"
Scully grinned faintly. "That's A.D. Skinner. You thought he was mad when he yelled at
you, think again. He was irritated at Jacobs, but what Douglas did really pushed him
over the edge."
Mulder smiled back. "Remind me to stay on his good side," he mumbled.
"Bastards." Scully glanced up and saw Skinner enter the room. He slammed the door
shut and knelt beside his two agents. "Agent Mulder, are you all right?"
Mulder nodded and winced, regretting the action as it sent fresh waves of pain crashing
down on him. "Fine, sir."
"Please accept my apologies for-," Skinner began. He was cut off as Mulder waved his
hand.
"Forget it," he said. "Shit happens. Sir."
Skinner looked at him incredulously. "Mulder, in case you're not aware, this shit isn't
supposed to happen. During an investigation, agents are expected to work together, not
against each other. I have never seen more disrespect in all my years in the service and
in the Bureau together than I have these three days. This is intolerable."
Mulder sat up, ignoring Scully's protests. "Thank you for your help and support, sir, but
with all due respect, you aren't used to this. I am. And as much as I hate it, Scully is,
too. You can't stop people from thinking what they want. If they want to believe that it's
my fault Suzie's missing, let them. If they believe it's my fault that so many kids are
dead, I can't change that. Maybe it is."
The last was spoken quietly, but both Scully and Skinner gave him horrified looks.
"Mulder, no," Scully said. "You can't believe that you-."
"I'm not saying they're right or wrong," Mulder interrupted. "And I'm not saying that
what they say and do doesn't hurt. I'm just saying, you can't change people. You just
suck it up and go on."
Mulder climbed to shaky feet and straightened the felled chair. He trembled slightly as
he shuffled through several papers lying on the table.
Scully stood and watched him before making him stop. Mulder allowed her to guide him
to an ugly yellow plastic couch and sat wordlessly. Scully took his hands and gripped
them.
"First of all, Mulder," she said, "you have to believe me when I say that this isn't your
fault. None of it: the deaths, Suzie Parker's disappearance . . . it was beyond your
control. Working yourself to the point of collapse isn't going to help anybody."
Mulder eyed her tiredly as she pressed on.
"Secondly, Mulder, don't listen to Jacobs, Douglas, or any of those sons of bitches.
They're so dense that if Skinner told them the earth was flat, they'd believe him."
That earned a chuckle from Skinner and a smile from Mulder.
"And last, but certainly not least," Scully continued, "you're hurt. I need to get you to
the hospital to see if you sustained any damage."
"No," Mulder replied. "Scully, I'm fine. I just have a headache. There's no dizziness,
no nausea, no hallucinations, or any other indication of a concussion. Check me out
yourself. I can't afford to be laid up right now. Not when I'm this close."
Scully frowned, but did as Mulder asked. She checked his pulse, examined his pupils,
and checked for a fever. Finding nothing wrong, she said, "All right, no hospital. But I
want you to rest. By my calculations, you've slept as much as a few hours in the past
five days. I want you to take a nap while Skinner and I continue the investigation. You
can sleep right here if you want. We'll keep the wolves at bay so you can have some
peace. All right?"
Mulder didn't like the idea of sleeping while Suzie was still in danger, but Scully did
promise to keep working. And he felt sooooo tired. He leaned back in the sofa and the
last thing he heard before crumpling into the welcoming darkness was Skinner's voice
demanding a pillow and blanket.
5:51 p.m.
Scully stood and stretched, working out the kinks in her stiff muscles. For what seemed
like the millionth time, she walked over to Mulder's side to check on him. He hadn't
stirred since falling asleep, but she wasn't too worried. She knew that he needed his rest.
Sharp raps on the door shattered the delicate silence in the room. Scully held her breath
and watched Mulder carefully, but Mulder was in too deep of a sleep to be disturbed.
She smiled and began the routine of checking his pulse, gauging his temperature, and
checking his pupils.
Skinner opened the door and White slipped into the room, carrying more files and two
large, white bags. He set everything on the table and grinned at Scully and Skinner. "I'm
not sure what you guys did, but there isn't an agent in sight," he joked softly. "How's
our boy doing?"
"Still asleep." Scully joined the other two at the table and looked curiously at the bags.
"What's that?"
"Dinner." White dug into the bag and pulled out several foil-wrapped hamburgers and
boxes of French fries. "I didn't know your preferences, so they're all the same; ketchup
and lettuce. I also got the files you wanted."
"Great," Skinner said. "I say we eat first, then work later. What about Mulder?"
"What about Mulder?" Mulder was sitting up on the couch, rubbing his tired eyes. He
ran a hand through his hair and stood.
"He awakens!" White exclaimed. "About time. Hungry?"
"What time is it?" Mulder asked, sinking into a chair and cradling his head in his hands.
"About six." Scully pulled his hands away and took his head into her hands to look into
his eyes. "Headache?"
Mulder's first reaction was to deny that he was in pain, but he realized that lying would
serve no purpose. Scully would only get angry.
"Yeah," he admitted. "Six at night?"
"Uh huh," Scully replied. "You've been asleep all day." A pause. "You seem okay.
Just don't dance with the furniture for awhile."
Mulder grinned. "There goes my schedule for the weekend." He winced at the pounding
in his temple.
"I'll send someone for aspirin and water," Skinner announced.
Mulder was already searching through the papers that littered the conference table. "Did
you guys make any progress?" he asked.
"Not much," Scully answered. "We looked through everything and read your notes.
Based on what we already know and what you told us, Skinner, Kevin, and I created a list
of sixty men who fathered children and lost them through various purposes. And that's
just the men who live in Pittsburgh right now."
Mulder nodded. "Finally, we're getting somewhere," he commented. He lifted the
nearest file and opened it.
Scully immediately shut the file, lifted it, and put a hamburger and fries in its place.
"Not so fast there, G-man," she said. "You need nourishment. You haven't had real food
in days."
"I ate yesterday!" Mulder protested.
Scully gave him a pointed look. "Mulder, did you really believe that I wouldn't know?"
she demanded. "I heard you throwing up your dinner last night, and I'm willing to bet
that little trip to the bathroom after lunch wasn't just to powder your nose!"
Mulder stared at her, his mouth hanging open in shock. He recovered and shook his
head. "And some people think I'm spooky."
He lifted the burger to his mouth and took a bite. After carefully chewing it, he was
surprised that he was actually hungry. Mulder wolfed down the burger before the other
agents had a chance to begin their own.
"Geez, Mulder," Skinner said. "I've never seen anyone eat so fast."
"Take it easy on those fries," Scully admonished him. "You want those to stay put."
Mulder rolled his eyes and snatched a file to look at as he munched on his fries. He
found the list of names that Scully had mentioned and slowly began the process of
eliminating the suspects.
He had been working for about an hour when he suddenly jumped to his feet, startling the
room's occupants. He blushed slightly when he saw their eyes on him.
"Sorry," he said. "I, uh, I'll be right back. I need to make a trip to the little agent's
room."
"Need help?" Scully asked.
Mulder gave her a mischievous grin. "Are you coming on to me, Agent Scully?"
"Agent Mulder, if I was 'coming on' to you, you wouldn't have to ask," Scully shot back.
"You'd know."
White burst into laughter at the astonished look on Mulder's face. Skinner started to
laugh, but quickly turned it into a fit of coughs.
"Actually, I could use a break myself," he stated, deciding to save his agent from further
embarrassment. "Besides, now would probably be a good time for Agent Mulder to take
his aspirin."
Mulder suddenly remembered his headache. He had been so wrapped up in his research
that he had completely forgotten about the pain, but since Skinner mentioned it, it was
rapidly making up for lost time.
He gratefully followed Skinner from the room, noting that the hall was nearly deserted.
The agents on their way to and from different rooms passed by, but not without baleful
glares directed at Mulder. Skinner was given respectful nods and smiles.
Mulder arrived at the bathroom first and released to open the door when it opened
suddenly, striking his hand. Mulder bit back a cry of pain and looked up into the startled
face of Tom Jacobs.
Jacobs saw the A.D. and stuck his hand out to Mulder. "My apologies, Agent Mulder,"
he said. "No hard feelings?"
His expression was neutral, but his eyes bore hard into Mulder. Mulder accepted the
hand with his bruised right one. He fought to keep the pain from his face as Jacobs
increased the pressure.
With a final squeeze, Jacobs let go and hurried down the hallway. Mulder practically ran
into the bathroom, Skinner following slowly behind.
Mulder went about his business, mindful that his boss was nearby, then went to the sink
to wash his hands. He looked in the mirror and was shocked at what he saw.
He was a mess. His hair hung limply on his head. His face was gaunt and pale, and his
shoulders were slumped. Mulder splashed cold water on his face, then groped blindly for
a towel. He felt one pushed into his hands, and he wiped his face. When he opened his
eyes, he saw two small white tablets nestled in the palm of Skinner's hand. Mulder
swallowed the pills dry, cupped his hand under the running water and gulped down
several handfuls. When he finished, he wiped his mouth and tossed the towel into the
wastebasket.
"Thank you, sir," he said.
Skinner shrugged, then decided to change the topic. "How did you meet Agent White?"
he asked.
If Mulder appeared startled by the somewhat personal question, he gave no sign. "Kevin
and I met our last year at the Academy," he replied. "We were partnered in our criminal
psyche class to profile a killer based on information we were given. It was a major
project; it included suspects, working with agents from out of town, and we were given a
deadline. It was supposed to prepare us for 'the real thing'.
"Anyway, Kevin and I worked together, and we solved the case in about three days. It
was fairly easy to figure out. For both of us. I think we drove our professor crazy when
we tried to explain the simplicity of the case and how it compared to real cases."
Skinner smiled faintly, feeling slightly sorry for the unknown professor. "What grade did
you get?"
"B." At Skinner's skeptical look, Mulder continued, "The professor thought we could've
been a bit more cooperative with the other agents."
Skinner let out a tiny laugh as he and Mulder began to walk back to the conference room.
"Your professor probably thought you were cheating."
Mulder chuckled. "He probably wanted to have me committed after I explained how
easy the project was."
At that moment SAC Douglas came rushing down the hall towards them. Not even
looking at Mulder, Douglas met Skinner's eyes and said, "We have something that you're
going to want to see, sir."
"What is it?" Skinner asked.
"I found a package on my desk not ten minutes ago, addressed to all the agents working
on the Kid Killer Case," Douglas replied, using the media's term for the case they were
working on. "Inside was a little doll, no clothes, and cut up just like the kids. In the doll
was this."
He held up a white envelope that had Mulder's name on the front. Mulder took the
envelope, opened it, and read the letter inside.
I hear that you're working on the case now. I also know that you're
pretty good. Well, while little Suzie is an angel, you still better pray
that I don't kill her now and go after two or three kids a week. I dare
you to come find us, if you can. If not, not even God can save this
girl.
U-know-who
Mulder shook his head and handed the letter to Skinner. "He knows we're getting close,"
he said.
Skinner glanced through the note. "This is specifically addressed to you," he told
Mulder. "How did he know that you're on the team? The press isn't supposed to have
that information."
"They don't," Douglas said. "Which means our killer has connections to the law
enforcement. I'll take the note to forensics."
"You won't find anything," Mulder replied. "The killer didn't manage to escape with
murdering sixteen young children just to slip out now."
Douglas' response was directed at Mulder, but he kept his gaze on Skinner. "All the
same, we can't overlook any possibility. Also- there's a meeting tomorrow afternoon at
one. Hopefully your profile will be completed by that time."
He took the note from Skinner and took off in the opposite direction. Skinner looked at
Mulder, a question evident on his face. Mulder anticipated his words before Skinner had
time to form them.
"Don't worry, sir," he assured the A.D. "I have enough information to form a suitable
profile. I'll have it done in time."
"In time for what?"
Both men turned at the sound of Scully's voice as she walked up to them. She focused a
concerned look on her partner. "Why are you taking so long? You didn't get sick again,
did you?"
"No, Agent Scully," Skinner replied for Mulder. He brought her up to date on the
situation, and he saw her eyeing Mulder's innocent expression suspiciously.
"Looks like we've got a long night ahead of us," she commented.
"What!" Skinner turned on Mulder. "But you said you had enough information!"
"And I do," Mulder stressed emphatically.
"Yeah right." Scully faced the A.D. "Sir, with all due respect, I've been working with
Mulder longer and closer than you, and I know that when Mulder says he had enough
information, he'll be up all night putting it together."
"I wasted time sleeping all day . . ." Mulder tried to say.
"Catching up on the sleep you lost all weekend," Scully finished. "Well, if you're going
to stay up all night, then I'm staying up with you."
"I'll stay up, too," Skinner added. "The more of us there are working, the less we all
have to stay up."
Mulder slumped his shoulders in defeat and walked all the way back to the conference
room. He was surprised to find it empty. "Where's Kevin?"
"He was tired, so I sent him home," Scully answered, gathering up the files and put them
into Mulder'' briefcase.
Mulder helped to collect the folders as Skinner deposited their garbage into the
wastebasket. As they began to walk to their car, the conversation drifted to who would
drive.
"I haven't driven yet!" Mulder protested.
"Neither have I, Mulder," Scully pointed out. "Besides; you just took aspirin. It won't
do us any good if you fell asleep behind the wheel!"
"Scully, I'm-," Mulder began.
"Mulder, if you say 'I'm fine', I swear I'll hurt you," Scully threatened. "Then you won't
be in any condition to drive for a long while."
"Since I have the keys, why don't I drive," Skinner spoke up.
Mulder and Scully exchanged neutral glances, then shrugged.
Skinner hid a smile as he climbed behind the wheel. Mulder once again claimed the
back, stretching his long legs across the entire seat. Scully shook her head as she buckled
herself in beside Skinner.
As the car glided smoothly down the road, Skinner turned on the radio and flipped
through several stations before finally settling on an oldies station. The announcer's
voice finished relating the weather, and a new song began to play.
It was an old tune, Joy to the World. Skinner recognized the song as an old favorite. A
slight sound from the back caused the A.D. to glance in the rearview mirror at Mulder.
Mulder was nestled in the back seat, his head leaning back. His back was propped up
against the side of the car, and his arms were wrapped around his chest. A faint smile
played on his lips. Skinner realized that the sound he'd heard was a sigh of contentment.
Skinner looked at Scully. Scully was staring straight ahead, her eyes focused on one
point on the road. It took a few minutes, but Skinner finally saw her face turning a rich
shade of crimson.
"What's wrong, Scully?" he asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.
Scully looked sharply at him. "What do you mean?" she demanded.
"Nothing," Skinner replied. "You just seemed kind of . . . distant."
"Oh." Scully's voice was tiny. "It's nothing, sir. The song just made me remember
something. That's all."
Skinner waited, but Scully remained silent. He decided not to press. If she didn't want to
talk about it, he wouldn't make her.
Scully's thoughts were of a cold night in a Florida forest, holding her injured partner in
her arms shortly after he'd been attacked by one of the mysterious 'Mothmen'. She
turned around to look at Mulder. At the sight of his peaceful form, all embarrassment she
felt left her. She faced front and waited for the song to end.
Another song came on, and it took a moment for Scully to place it.
Twilight Time.
Shit.
Mulder began to breathe faster, his arms twitching. Scully's hand shot out and turned the
radio off. She began to hum Joy to the World, shocking the hell out of Skinner and
herself. She didn't care. Mulder was already calming down.
"Scully, what in the hell has come over you?" Skinner reached to turn the radio back on,
but Scully stopped him.
"No! Sir, please," Scully pleaded. "A while back Mulder and I were working on this one
case- well, I don't really want to go into it. But needless to say, that song triggers some
rather unpleasant memories. Trust me, sir. Don't turn the radio back on. Please."
Skinner stared at her, but finally relented. Scully sagged back in relief.
"Thank you, sir," she said gratefully.
"One of these days," Skinner said, "you're going to have to explain to me why you two
do the things you do."
Scully smiled faintly. "Are you sure you'd be ready to hear it?"
"When the time comes I won't be anywhere else," Skinner replied evenly.
He guided the car into a parking spot and turned off the engine. Scully hopped out of her
seat and stretched. Skinner opened the back door and gently shook Mulder's shoulder.
"Mulder, wake up. We're here."
When Mulder didn't stir, he shook harder, then looked to Scully for help. Scully
searched the ground, picked up a leaf, and held it up. Grinning wickedly, she said, "This
is where the job gets fun."
Skinner suddenly felt a pang of pity towards the younger man when he realized what
Scully was about to do. "Isn't there another way?"
"Nope. I've tried them all." Scully leaned forward and, ever so lightly, tickled Mulder's
face with the leaf. Mulder's face twitched, and he batted his hand at the irritation.
Scully wasn't about to be dissuaded. She leaned closer and tickled Mulder's nose.
Skinner saw Mulder's hand slowly move, but Scully wasn't in a good spot to see it until
it was too late.
Mulder seized Scully's wrist and pulled her effortlessly into the car. Scully let out a
startled cry as she collapsed onto Mulder's lap. Mulder immediately began to tickle her
until tears were streaming down her face.
"Didn't think I was serious when I said I'd get you back last time, did you?" Mulder
asked lightly, panting hard from exertion.
"I'll get you back for this," Scully replied, also breathing heavily.
The two looked up suddenly as a sound they never thought they'd hear reached their ears.
A.D. Skinner was laughing as he walked into the hotel.
Room 317
12:19 p.m.
Mulder removed his reading glasses and tiredly rubbed his face. He had finally finished
his profile after studying all of the information the entire night.
The killer was a forty-nine-year-old man named Joel McKay. He had been married for
six years to a woman named Hannah, and had two children: a son and a daughter.
McKay was also a cop at the time, and highly respected. Then, after a drug bust that had
cost him the life of his partner, his wife had left him, and had taken the children with her.
The son, Brian, had been six at the time while young Kathryn was nearing her third
birthday.
Not long after McKay had been discharged from the force because of recklessness and
unnecessary roughness. McKay hadn't been heard from since.
Based on the information and his own skills, Mulder had pieced together the reason for
the killings.
Hannah had had an argument with her husband, according to old reports by witnesses.
Hannah had said that she wouldn't allow McKay to dirty their children's pure hearts with
his hatred for his partner's killer that had grown into an obsession. Already having
packed their belongings, she had driven herself and the children away and out of
McKay's life.
McKay had grown more despondent at work until he was released. From there he tried to
locate his children, becoming successful and yet failing each time he drove to their last
known location before learning that they had moved on days, weeks, or months before.
He had finally caught up with his children fifteen years later. His children didn't
recognize him, and when he found out that they called someone else 'dad', he snapped.
He returned to Pittsburgh and began to kidnap any young child that reminded him of his
own. McKay spent the week raping the child and beating the child- an act of vengeance
against his ex-wife and her new lover. The he would gut the child, leaving nothing but
the heart as if to prove that his ex-wife had been wrong, that the child's heart was still
pure. Then McKay dumped the body where he'd found it and repeated the cycle.
Mulder glanced over at Scully. Scully was curled up in his bed, having fallen asleep
around six that morning. Skinner was on the couch, also sleeping. Mulder figured that, if
they were as tired as he was, he'd leave them be. He had taken off their shoes, collected
the folders surrounding them, and had draped blankets over the both of them.
He envied that they could sleep at times like this, when the guilt ripped his heart into
shreds. Mulder never slept. He never ate.
That is, until Scully came along.
She was his anchor to reality. But she was so much more than that. Mulder knew that he
was damn lucky that she had been assigned his partner. No one else ever gave a damn
about him, except for her. She looked out for him, took care of him when he needed it,
and stood by him.
For that, Mulder was eternally grateful.
Glancing at his watch, Mulder figured that he had enough time to shower and change
before attending the meeting and turning in his profile.
He debated whether or not to awaken Scully and Skinner for the meeting. Looking at
them, he didn't have the heart to do it. After all, their presence wasn't crucial. It was
merely a formality that didn't have to be extended to the agents at the field office.
Mulder settled for writing them a note, then disappeared into the bathroom for his
shower.
end 5/9