Police Department

Advance, Virginia

7:15 AM

Scully, already on her third cup of coffee, stood outside the interrogation room waiting for her partner. Sheriff Hutchins was with her, and she could tell by the way he anxiously tapped his foot that his patience was thinning. It got to be rather annoying because with each passing second, his tapping grew quicker and louder until it grated on Scully's nerves so badly that she finally said, "If you want to question him first, you may. You probably know more about him than we do."

"Are you sure about that?" the officer asked.

"Yes," Scully said, desperate for a way to get rid of him. "I'm sure."

He nodded and said his thanks, and he walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he did, Doggett walked around the corner, sucking the last bits of Danish off his fingers. He went up and stood beside his partner. "So are we going to question him now?"

"Sheriff Hutchins is doing some questioning right now. We'll have a turn soon enough," Scully said. "Think we should go sit down somewhere until then?"

"Sure," Doggett said.

They started to walk back down the hall, but turned their heads as they heard a commotion at the other end. Two or three people were yelling "Stop! Stop!" and "Get him!", and there was the sound of scurrying feet. The agents glanced at one another, each wondering if the other had any clue about what was going on, when suddenly a thirteen year old boy came running down the hall.

It was Bobby Smith. Behind him were two police officers, both out of breath and neither able to keep up with him. "Grab him!" one of the officers said between gasping for breath.

The boy ran right into Doggett's arms, and the FBI agent picked him up as Bobby kicked and struggled to get free.

"Let me go! Put me down!" Bobby shouted, struggling with all his might. "Let me go, damn it! I have to see Jason!"

"You have quite the mouth there, kid," Doggett muttered.

"I said put me down, damn you!"

"Shh, Bobby," Scully said. The boy was fighting too hard to notice her as Doggett's arms were a vise around his chest. "Bobby, look at me," Scully said, resting her hand on the boy's cheek. Her hand was a siren's song, and his eyes lit up as he suddenly saw her face.

"Agent Scully!" he exclaimed. "You have to let me see Jason. You have to let me talk to him, because he's making a big mistake!"

"Hey, do you want us to get him out of here?" one of the policemen asked, still trying to catch his breath.

"No, officer," Scully said. "We've got a handle on it." The officers walked back to their office, grumbling about how they were no longer cut out for the line of work. "Doggett, set him down."

Doggett did as Scully told him, and he set the boy gently on his feet. Bobby grumbled, straightening out the jet black jeans he was wearing and smoothing down his Atticus T-shirt.

"Why do you need to see Jason?" Scully asked him gently.

"Because. He's making a big mistake. A big big mistake."

"What kind of a mistake, Bobby?"

"I can't say. I need to talk to Jason," he said quietly, looking away from her.

"Jason's being questioned right now. If you tell me why you need to see him, I might be able to help you. Remember, Bobby, you can trust me."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Jason didn't do anything. He's just saying he did because…" Bobby trailed off.

"Bobby," Scully began. She kneeled down a little so she could look the boy in the face. "You know who did these things, don't you? You know who killed Jaime and Teddy, and you know who raped Caitlin."

"No…" Bobby said, staring out the window.

"Bobby," Scully said. She gently touched his cheek and turned his face so he looked her straight in the eye. "If you know who did this, you should tell us. It would help us clear your brother's name."

"I can't," Bobby said, his voice cracking ever so slightly. Before he spoke, there was a long pause, and he considered what his answer should be. "Jason…he made me promise not to. He said he'd hate me forever if I did."

"Bobby…now, Bobby, look at me. Tell us who did it. Please. Tell us who did it."

"I…if….let's say someone heard that Caitlin was saying all these things that was getting Jason into trouble, like saying he killed Teddy and Jaime when he didn't, then maybe someone would do something bad to her so she would shut up and learn her lesson. She's not really a very nice person anyway, so you can't feel too sorry for her."

"Bobby, please," Scully began, but she was interrupted by a scream and a crash that came from the interrogation room.

Instantly, the agents were in the room with Bobby quietly peeking in from the hall. What they saw disgusted Scully. Jason was lying on the floor, his chair lying beside him. He was holding his face and lying on his side because he couldn't prop himself up with the cuffs on. Sheriff Hutchins was on top of him, holding the young man down with his weight, and he pulled his arm back for another swing.

"What the hell are you doing?" Doggett shouted, pulling the man off the boy. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I think I'm getting this sick freak to talk," the sheriff replied. "He wouldn't answer none of my questions, only saying he confessed to everything. Well, I want to know how and why he done it, damn it!"

"Sheriff, I think you better step outside and cool off," Scully said, showing she was in control of the situation. "Let us get those answers from him." Scully locked him down in a stare that the policeman was helpless to argue against. He walked out of the room and down the hall grumbling.

Scully sighed and shook her head as Doggett helped Jason back to his seat. She looked for Bobby, wondering what to tell him, but he was gone. She looked out into the hall, and he was no where to be seen. She knew he had gotten angry or frightened and ran off. She debated whether or not to go look for him, but she decided she had work that needed to be done at the moment. Besides, the boy could not get too far in a police station, could he?

Doggett helped Jason up and sat him in the chair. Scully shut the door. Scully then took a moment to look Jason over, and, when they were sure he was okay, Doggett asked, "Jason, what did you tell Sheriff Hutchins?"

"I just said I want to confess to everything, but I didn't want to talk about any specifics. It's…I'm ashamed of what I did," Jason said. He sounded scared to death, but he spoke like he was reading from a cue card. There was no sincerity in his voice, but it wasn't from lack of caring or lack of remorse. He was not convincing at all, and Scully immediately caught his act.

"You're ashamed or you don't know the specifics?" Scully asked bluntly. There was a look on Jason's face that confirmed her suspicions. "Jason, we don't know why or who, but we know you're protecting someone. We know that you didn't commit these crimes. Or at least we believe that you didn't. Despite the overwhelming motive, there's no evidence that links you to them."

Jason studied his hands intently, searching them for an answer to the agent.

"Tell us who did this, Jason," Scully said. "Tell us now so we can let you go. Tell us so you can go home to your dad and your little brother that loves you."

Jason shook his head. Like a kicked, beaten puppy he said, "I can't."

"Why not?" Scully said, her frustration on the rise. She pounded on the table. "Who…who could possibly be worth going to jail for? You have two homicides and a rape charge staring you in the face. They're going to throw the book at you, try you as an adult, and make an example out of you! Do you have any idea what goes on in prison, Jason? You're still just a kid and a young looking one at that. I think you know what that'll mean in jail. Now tell us who the hell raped Caitlin Thompson and killed those kids!"

"I told you, I can't!" Jason exclaimed, slamming his cuffed fists on the table. Scully could see the tear stains on his bruised cheeks. "I…I don't want to go to jail, all right? I know what happens there and it scares the living hell out of me. I just…I can't tell you." The burden, whoever he was carrying it for, pushed down on his head, making him stare at the table. "It's better this way," he muttered distantly.

* * *

On the other side of the police station, Sheriff Hutchins swore as he zipped up his pants. As he flushed the urinal, he wished the FBI were no longer involved. He had been excited at first, but now they were just in the way of him of punishing a rapist and a murderer. Jason Smith was trash, and trash needed to be taken out and burned. Hutchins walked over to the sink and started to wash his hands, mumbling and swearing at the names Doggett and Scully. He took a glance at himself as he cleaned up, then he turned his eyes back to his hands. "I'll tell you what, Hutchins. If you were in charge here, this case would be open and shut. We wouldn't have any of this soft hearted, wussy, juris-my-diction crap that's coming out of those two…two…arrogant FBI agents." He rinsed all the soap off, then he shut off the water. Then he happened to glance in the mirror.

Agent Doggett stood behind him.

"Oh," Hutchins said meekly. "Uh…hello there, Agent Doggett. You, uh, heh heh, shouldn't sneak up on people. It almost gave me a start." Hutchins forced a nervous bit of laughter out of his throat, and he turned from the mirror to face the agent. When he did, he gasped.

Agent Doggett had disappeared, and in his place stood someone that looked exactly like Sheriff Hutchins. Stunned and frightened, Hutchins backed himself against the sink, seeking desperately for a way out. The fake Hutchins eyed the sheriff coldly, like a wolf sizing up his next meal, and pointed a finger menacingly at the real officer.

"Now, now look…I don't want no trouble," Hutchins said. He squealed as his doppleganger's finger began to melt and mold itself into a long metal point. "Oh, God, please don't kill me," Hutchins gasped, falling to his knees to beg for his life.

"You're terminated," the doppleganger said, and the room was quiet as he painted the floor in blood.