Chapter Six
All other information in chapter one
******
Mulder's Apartment
August 10, 1991
I walk up quietly to apartment number '42' and stop, gathering myself as I raise my knuckles to knock on the door. My other hand trembles as I hold onto the file that Mulder's mom had in the X-files office.
I knock. Footsteps from with in the room echo on the wooden floor. Mulder opens the door reluctantly. His face falls as he sees that it is me behind the door. "Were you expecting some one else?" I ask him.
He pokes his head further out of the door and looks up and down the hall. He opens the door further and lets me in.
"Scully, it's not safe for you to be here," Mulder says compassionately, sounding like he was still hurt from our confrontation this morning.
"What do you mean it's not safe to be here?" I ask, my voice wavering.
He shuts the door behind me and walks back into his living room. Mulder paces the floor slowly, silently, trying to think of something to say. As if he completely shook it off he asks me what I'm doing here.
I hold out the file for him to read.
"What is this?" Mulder asks suspiciously. I don't respond.
"Scully, don't keep me guessing. Look what happened this morning when I did that to you," Mulder finishes.
"It's a file," I start.
"Yeah, I can see that," Mulder says sarcastically.
"It's a file on your mother," I continue.
Mulder's grin drops from his face and he gets a confused look on his face. I continue against my own better judgment, hearing my own words echo off the hallow walls of his apartment. I tell him of the woman that lived through abductions, cancer, and became pregnant with a miracle child, and then her own death. I show Mulder the picture.
He shakes his head, trying to get rid of everything that I had just told him.
"Scully, that's impossible. My mother is still alive and well. You could talk to her if you really wanted to," whispers Mulder.
"Mulder, you don't get this. This picture is of you. Your mother was killed a few months after your birth and for some unknown reason you were kidnapped," I say grimacing at my every word. I don't want to hurt him any more.
Mulder stops pacing and walks over to his desk. He takes out a photo album and starts to page through it, looking for evidence that he wasn't kidnapped. "This can't be," he mutters to himself, "There isn't a picture here taken before 1966."
"Mulder," I whisper trying to comfort him.
He grabs his jacket and heads for the door. He turns back and looks at me. "Are you coming?"
I smile and follow him out of the door. Following him as we start out on the biggest case of our lives. The biggest case that either one of us will ever encounter again.
But a shot rings out into the night. Mulder falls to the ground clutching his chest. I scream into the dark night. Screaming for the man that I love and will forever love.
Mercy Hospital
August 12, 1991
I silently pace outside Mulder's door. A tiny set back, well actually it was almost a fatal setback has faced us. A small man in a black coat and glasses walks up to me. His eyes are focused on the floor, but I could recognize that small figure anywhere.
"Frohike! What are you doing here?" I ask completely shocked.
He looks up surprised to see me actually acknowledge him. In his right hand is a UFO magazine that screams on the cover 'ALIEN ABDUCTION.' I smirk at him.
"Ms. Scully, I presume?" Frohike asks trying to sound as intelligent as he can.
"Yes, What are you doing here?" I ask him again.
He looks up and down the hallway, suspiciously. "This isn't a safe place to talk."
"I don't think there will ever be a safe place to talk," I tell him, trying not to laugh.
He hands me the magazine. It falls open to an article in the middle of it and I see that the author is a Reynard Muldrake.
"What is this?" I ask him.
"This is a key to the puzzle that you are trying to solve, the opening point to the biggest case of both of your lives," Frohike tells me prophetically.
"And?" I question, getting annoyed.
"A man by the name of Fox Mulder, Sr. wrote this thirty years ago. He is Mulder's father.
A man that doesn't exist in any other life," Frohike tells me.
I stare at him and then it finally clicks. Mulder is a junior and he wasn't in another life. The missing link. It is everything that we will need. I walk away from Frohike taking the article and I walk silently into Mulder's hospital room for a second time this year.
Mulder is sleeping soundly, but as I step on the cold tile my shoes click. He opens his eyes slowly and smiles at me.
"Mulder, I think I know how to solve this," I tell him.
"How?" Mulder whispers.
"We find your father," I tell him.
He shakes his head. "You won't find him. I can promise you that," Mulder says, "My father died before I was born."
I stare at him, my plan falling. We now had to find a man that is most likely not alive and we have to find the person who shot Mulder, the person that wanted his life as well as mine. This is becoming one heck of a glimpse.
August 15, 1991
Somewhere in Washington
I walk ahead of Mulder, holding my gun out in front of me looking. Mulder's arm is in a sling to keep the pressure off of his gunshot wound. I stop quickly and Mulder almost runs into me. Footsteps shuffle on the wet cement, quickly around the corner.
Mulder turns off the flashlight that he was holding and waits. I slowly turn the corner, trying not to make a sound. A man in a black trench coat stands in the dark; a lighted cigarette is in his mouth.
The smoking man once again is here, our paths have crossed again.
"I didn't think that you'd come Dana, Fox," he whispers, his voice hoarse.
"We got the phone call at the hospital. What do you want?" I ask him talking for both Mulder and I.
"I have information for you about Mulder's father and his mother," he says, hissing.
"What kind of information?" Mulder asks, looking at the man with a hateful look.
I study both of them, trying to find similarities between the two. In the other life the smoking man claimed that he was Mulder's father, but I don't see a resemblance in either one of their faces.
The smoking man looks at me, and sees me pondering, thinking. "I'm not his father, Dana. I know what you are thinking, but I'm not," he reassures my thoughts.
"Then who is?" an annoyed Mulder asks.
"I can't tell you that," he says his voice getting softer, more suspicious.
"Then what can you tell us?" Mulder whispers.
"I can give you a clue."
"Oh great, another, damn clue that will lead us to a dead end. Don't you get it? I've be down in that office for two months, two months and I've figured out that in this line of work nothing ever gets solved," Mulder screams in frustration.
The smoking man holds out a small piece of paper.
"Coordinates? What are these supposed to tell us?" I ask.
"That is your new destination, another piece to the puzzle," he says, walking off into the dark shadows.
Mulder puts his head down in defeat. I take my arm and put it around his.
"Mulder," I say softly, "Let's go."
He just nods and holds his hand as we walk back to the car, taking the next step in the biggest case of our lives.
August 21,1991
London, England
Mulder paces the waiting area quickly, waiting for me to get off the phone. I don't even hear the person I'm talking to. My mind is completely on Mulder. He's gone through so much in just under a few months. He lost his wife and son, got a new job, new partner, and was almost killed.
"Ma'am?" the British voice on the other end of the phone questions.
"Yes, I'm still here...Umm...Yep, I've got the address...thank-you very much," I reply and hang up the phone.
Mulder stops pacing and walks back over to me.
"Well? What'd they say?" Mulder asks like an anxious child.
"There are two F. Mulder's in the area and one R. Muldrake. Mr. Muldrake lives here in London, but the other two live in the country side, miles from civilization," I tell him.
"The one furthest away," Mulder says, not completely there.
"Are you sure?" I ask him.
"Scully, how many times have I been wrong since you've known me?" asks Mulder, as a smirk goes across his face.
I don't respond right away, thinking of the times that he had been wrong. He sees my questionable look.
"Well, with this kind of thing anyway," Mulder says almost exactly like he did when we were in the middle of Texas.
"Well that Mr. F. Mulder lives seventy miles away from here. If we start now we'll get there before dark," I tell him.
I start to walk thinking that Mulder is following, but when I turn back to tell him something he's not right behind me. He's still looking out the window, thinking. I walk back to him.
"Mulder?" I question.
"Yeah," he says, not there at all.
"I'm going to go rent a car. Would you like to come with me?" I ask.
"Yeah, sure, I'll be there in a second," he responds.
I walk over to the rent a car stand. Two woman stand in front of me, trying to bargain for a deal on a car. I roll my eyes, looking at my watch, and getting impatient. A tap on my shoulder turns me around reluctantly.
Mulder stands there before me, looking almost lost.
"What is it Mulder?" I ask concerned.
"Scully, I know that I'm right," Mulder responds.
"Okay Mulder. I'm going to get a car and then we'll drive out there."
He nods and stands next to me, thinking. I often wonder what goes through his head some days.
"Scully, I think I know what happened to my mother. I think I know what happened to you," Mulder breaks the silence. And in breaking that he starts to reveal a life that he shouldn't know exists.
*******
Next chapter ---