Chapter three

Knock! Knock! There was no answer. Mulder waited outside Scully's apartment thinking only about how strange she had acted the past few days. She had seemed so uncaring about the loss of her gold cross, something that he knew she cherished. She had also seemed distracted. Granted, life was certainly not normal for her, or for him, as well. Maybe it was all becoming too much for her to handle, maybe she was becoming uneasy...

"Scully?" he said loudly putting his mouth close to the door. Again he waited, but no one answered. He turned and began to walk away, just as the door opened and 4 looked out. He did not notice this as he continued down the hall, and wouldn't have if she had not called out to him.

"Mulder?"

The apartment seemed dark and dim, not bright and cheery as it usually looked, and the floor was littered with papers. Mulder picked up the nearest sheet, a drawing of a small child standing in a corner. She had sad eyes.

"Did you draw this, Scully?"

4 took the paper from his hands and studied it. She couldn't believe how fast the real Scully had sketched all the drawings. She had been going to put them on a shelf, but dropped them on the floor when Mulder first began to knock on the door. It was a lonely feeling picture, filled with sorrow. 4 had seen a photograph of the young girl in her captive's bedroom, and she knew who it was.

"Yes," she answered finally, "I drew it."

Mulder followed her as she walked through the room, picking up papers and setting them on the desk, on the shelves, on the tables...

"I didn't know you could draw. It's a beautiful picture."

She was nervous, he could tell. She constantly brushed hair out of her face with her hands, and kept moving objects around the room, as if nothing seemed to be in the right place. Mulder sat down on the couch and stared forward.

"There are many things you don't know about me, Mulder. I'm sure there are still things I don't know about you. I'm sorry about the mess. As I told you. It's just one of those days."

He took the picture from the coffee table, tracing the outline of the girls face with his finger. He knew who it was, and he knew that it was some sign of the emotional scar that remained on Scully's heart. It hadn't been fair. She had only been a mother for a few days, before it was all taken from her.

He looked up at 4 and spoke kindly, "This is Emily. Is this what has been bothering you lately?"

Emily. The name echoed in her brain. The child of Dana Scully, who had died of a strange disease that ferociously attacked her small body.

"It is a picture of her. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about her. I wish that she were still here. I've always wondered what kind of mother I would have made. But I- Never mind. I can't talk about it right now. I just can't. I'll be back, in a moment."

Dana 4 turned quickly from the room and walked into the bedroom.

Scully rested her ear against the door. How she wanted to call out to him, for him to free her, from her bondage and from herself. But the gag in her mouth prevented her from making more than muffled gibberish.

I've always wondered what kind of mother I would have made. That's what 4 had said to Mulder. Somehow, Scully had allowed herself to feel an increasing pity for the clone, but at that moment she hated her, maybe not for reading her journal, her senseless scribbling, but because 4 could tell Mulder the things that she had wanted to tell him for years, the things she couldn't tell him. Yes, she needed him now, but hadn't she always needed him, just to help her feel human? Just to give her a sense of self-worth? To, furthermore, give her the feeling of being needed? Why couldn't she tell him? He had told her everything that weighed on his heart, but she couldn't tell him how much she wanted to hold her darling baby. How she couldn't let go.

As she had done many times before, Scully labored with her bonds, her wrists red and sore from abrasion. Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes, threatening to overflow. The door to the bathroom opened and 4 stepped in, smiling in her worrisome way, not realizing how much she was detested at that instant. Scully glared at her, not willing to turn a friendly eye upon such an unfeeling monster.

"I'm sorry about the gag," she whispered. "You understand, don't you? I'll bring you dinner later. I have to go now."

The door closed.

'Dammit,' she thought. 'Why can't I just keep hating her? why does she have to act like she cares about me? She's holding me captive for heaven's sake.'

The more she interacted with 4, the harder it was for her to feel hatred. After all, she was still alive. Yes, she was alive, and that meant she could do something about what was happening. Scully eyed the room, searching for anything that could help her, as she had done many times that day. Sliding closer to the other end of the bathroom, as difficult as it was with hands and legs tied, she kicked the door as hard as possible, making a loud thunk.

"What was that?" she heard Mulder ask from the other room. Scully's eyes widened with hope. It had been louder than she had thought it would be. Again she kicked the door and again, each time louder than before. Why hadn't she thought of this before? It was so simple. She had been overcomplicating things once more. Again she heard Mulder's voice, closer this time, asking 4 what was going on. She was about to kick one last time, but the door opened and Mulder walked in, his gun drawn.

He looked at her with wide eyes, freezing for a moment, not knowing what was where, who was who. That had been his mistake. 4 had come up behind him, dropping him with a sharp chop to the neck.

"He's not dead," she said in a short, cold manner. "I'm disappointed in you, Agent Scully. I trusted that you wouldn't make this difficult for me." And with that, Dana 4 had claimed her next prisoner.

Guns were horrid things. 4 dangled the weapon between her thumb and pointer fingers. She turned her head, unable to stare into the eyes of her mother. If only it hadn't been like this, if only she had been someone else, 4 could have killed the woman. But the facts were there, the face was the same, and 4 could not harm her. She set the gun on the dresser outside the door and turned to face Scully, summoning every bit of courage.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed to find out. I...I understand now why it was my order to kill you, but I still can't, I won't, and I might have to kill him now, too. I will have to ask my father. I have to know what to do..."

Her voice trailed off when she realized how nonsensical she sounded. Leaning over, she un-gagged Scully and began to lift the unconscious Mulder. He was heavy, but 4 was strong. She carried him into the bedroom and lay him down next to the radiator. She then returned to the bathroom and untied Scully's legs. Scully stayed silent, and allowed herself to be led to the spot where she sat every night.

4 took Mulder's coat off his limp form and searched the pockets, finally producing a pair of hand cuffs and a key. She put the key in her pocket and placed one of the cuffs on Mulder's left hand. He murmured softly, but did not waken from his senselessness. She then untied Scully's hands and keeping a firm grip on her right wrist, wound the handcuff chain through the sturdy radiator pipes and clapped the other cuff on Scully's right hand. She then tied Scully's legs, and Mulder's legs, once more.

"I understand if you have no wish to speak to me. I understand, and I am sorry, but I cannot let you go, and I cannot disobey my father."

She propped Mulder up against the wall and stood up determinedly. 4 stared down at them, trying to appear firm.

"You talk about wanting to be your own person!" Scully shouted. "You talk about wanting to feel like a human! Why don't you start now?" She paused, choking back a frustrated sob. "You can start now."

4 shook her head. "I'll get your dinner now. And I'll get food for him too. He's waking up. You might want to explain the situation."

As soon as she had gone, Scully scooted toward Mulder and patted his cheek. His eyes jerked open and darted about the room.

"Mulder! Mulder, it's okay. It's me, Scully."

She helped Mulder sit up against the wall and jiggled her arm a bit. Her fingers were beginning to feel tingly. Frustration was soon giving way to irritation, and she had a feeling that Mulder wasn't going to help the matter.

"There were two of you. Was I hallucinating? This is you, isn't it Scully?"

"Yes, it's me. If you'd calm down I could tell you what is going on." Mulder closed his eyes. After a moment, he nodded for her to continue. Scully took a deep breath and spoke in a whisper. "The person in the other room is a clone who calls herself Dana 4. She was under orders to kill me and take my place, to deceive you for heaven knows what, but now you've discovered that she's a fake, she has to ask her 'father' what to do. I'm really not sure about what's supposed to be happening here. I mean, she told me that she won't kill me, and she's treated me as kindly as she can manage without letting me roam freely about the apartment.

"4 didn't say anything about who she was employed or created by except that there were a group of men that her 'father' belonged to. Now, is it just me, or is it not that hard to guess at who those men are?"

Mulder nodded in agreement and then replied.

"So let's see if I've got this straight. Except for the fact that you and I are handcuffed to the radiator in your bedroom, not that I would object to it under normal circumstances, and that our captor is a clone of you that works for a shadowy group of high government officials that can kill whomever they please, whenever they please...everything's dandy. I think I pretty much have everything down," Mulder stopped and glanced to the door. Sounds could be heard coming through the small opening. "And now she's cooking us lord-knows-what and-"

"Shut up, Mulder. Just- just shut up. We are up the creak without the dammed paddle okay? I don't need your 'wit' right now.

He lowered his voice and continued. "Dammit Scully. They took advantage of my trust in you. Maybe they won't kill me, but how does that stop them from...from-"

The door opened and 4 waltzed through carrying two plates of sandwiches and some napkins. She set them on the floor by the pair and sat on the bed, waiting for them to begin eating.

"They're turkey. I'm sorry, but I'm not much of a cook."

Mulder turned his head to look at Scully, who had done the same, and raised an eyebrow at this seemingly caring comment. 4, noticing this, slid onto the floor and sat cross-legged.

"Did I say something amusing, Mulder? Eat, please. I don't want you to be hungry."

Mulder gingerly picked up his sandwich and took a small bite, hiding a slight grimace.

"Compliments to the chef," he said without swallowing. 4 smiled.

"Thank you."

After she had gone, Mulder spat the sandwich out into a napkin and slid the plate away. Scully ignored this action, picked up her sandwich, and began to eat with a bored look on her face.

"How can you eat that? This stuff is worse than prison food. I think she's trying to poison us."

A few beats passed before he continued.

"How do you ruin a sandwich?"

"You might as well get used to it," Scully remarked as she took another bite. "It's all I've eaten for the past 72 hours."

Mulder snorted at this statement and looked around the room for anything that could be used as weapon. Scully put a hand on his arm.

"I already looked. There's nothing. She was trained pretty well. I guess all we can do is wait for her to make a mistake."

"Well, Scully, no one's perfect. Not even a clone of you."