Title - Secrets From the Past
Author - Henle Girl
Rating - R for disturbing subject matter
Category - Mulder/Scully Romance, Angst
Spoilers - Chimera
Summary - As memories from Scully's past begin to manifest
themselves to her, Mrs. Scully learns the hard way how buried
secrets can come back to haunt you.
Disclaimer - The characters don't belong to me. I'm just
borrowing them for my own therapeutic purposes. They will be
returned relatively unharmed to Chris Carter, or whoever wants
to borrow them next, when I'm done.
Feedback: PLEASE!!! Henle_Girl@hotmail.com
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 4
* * * * * * * * * * * *
She had expected it. In theory. But actually seeing the child .
. . she can't breath. It literally feels like vice closing in on
her chest. She attempts a few deep breaths, but only ends up
sounding like she has emphysema.
"Scully? Are you okay?" Mulder asks her, seeing that she's
obviously anything but. She can't manage to catch her breath to
answer him, so she just shakes her head. On that admission, he
takes her by the arm and leads her out to the front porch where
they'll have a little more privacy. When they're alone, he wraps
his arms around her, hugging her close to his body.
"Did you see her, Mulder?" she gasps. "That little girl. She
looks just like, her. She looks just like Emily. What's going
on here? Have they made another one?"
"I don't know. But we'll get to the bottom of it," he promises
her. "But you have to calm down. We need to keep our heads in
this situation and investigate this before evidence starts
disappearing the way we've seen it happen so many times before."
"You think this is like what happened with Emily and her adopted
parents?" She pulls out of his embrace and looks up at him.
"It all seems the same," he shrugs. "The murder rigged to look
like a suicide. The little girl who looks like Emily. I don't
see what else could be going on. We'll have to run tests,
though."
"I'll start with the autopsy," she tells him. "We can also get a
sample from the little girl to see if she's like Emily in any
way."
"Scully, are you sure? That detective said this woman could be
your twin. Doing an autopsy on her might be kind of weird."
"I have to, Mulder," she says quietly, although his objections
really do make sense. "If they treat this like a suicide, they
won't do a thorough post mortem on her. They'll probably miss
the signs of murder, like they did in the Roberta Sim case. I'll
be okay," she smiles, trying to reassure him.
"If you insist on doing this, then I'm coming with you," he
sighs, realizing that there's nothing he can do to stop her. He
pulls her close for one more hug before reluctantly letting her
go. He knows this is going to be hard on her. If he can't stop
her, all he can do is be there to catch her when she falls.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Mulder paces nervously outside the autopsy bay, mentally
calculating how long it will be before the autopsy is over.
Mulder knows that when Scully wants to do a through job, it could
take hours. He's not looking forward to spending hours out in
the hallway, but he'll do whatever it takes for Scully. She's
going to need him afterwards. And he's determined to be there
for her.
He's just getting settled in a seat with a magazine, preparing
for a long wait, when the doors fly open and Scully rushes past
him. Another pathologist, a man that looks to be a few years
older than him, comes out, a concerned look on his face.
"What happened in there?" Mulder asks.
"I wish I knew," the doctor shrugs. "I pulled back the sheet and
she rushed out of there like a first year med student. Although,
I must say I can hardly blame her. It's spooky how much the
victim resembles Dr. Scully."
"I tried to talk her out of doing the autopsy," Mulder sighs,
running a hand through his hair. "She insisted. She has this
need to prove herself to everybody."
"The only thing she would have been proving to anyone by doing
that autopsy is that she has a heart of stone. I don't know
anyone who would be able to perform under those conditions. I
know I wouldn't have. Is she going to be okay?"
"I think this has been too much for her. We're going to head
back home. Do you think you can send us the results of your exam
to us there?"
"Of course." the doctor nods. "Along with the DNA work up both
the mother and little girl she requested."
"Thanks. And if you think of anything else, let me know."
Mulder pulls out one of his cards and hands it to the doctor.
The men shake hands before parting ways, the doctor back into the
autopsy bay and Mulder to find Scully. His search is successful
a few minutes later when he runs across her coming out of the
ladies bathroom.
"You okay, Scully?" he asks tentatively, not knowing what
reaction to expect from her.
"I feel like a fool," she says quietly, holding her head down in
shame. "I ran out of there like it was the first dead body I'd
ever seen."
"Or maybe it was because it's the first dead body you've ever
seen that looks identical to yours. Give yourself a break,
Scully. That's not an easy thing to face. Trust me on this one.
That's why I have yet to see this body. I don't think I could
handle seeing you dead," he tells her, lifting a hand to her face
to cup her cheek.
She leans into his touch, enjoying the feeling of his skin
touching hers. She furthers the contact by lifting her own hand
and holding him closer.
"How about we get out of here?" he suggests. "We can call the
airport on the way to try to get a ticket back home."
"Mulder, I'm fine," she insists. "There's more here we need to
investigate."
"They're going to send the results to us in D.C. Any
investigating we can do from there," he counters.
"But . . . "
"But nothing. Scully, can you honestly tell me you're up for
this?"
"No," she practically whispers.
"Neither am I, to tell you the truth. So let's go home, okay?
There's nothing more we can do here right now. I promise you, if
something in the DNA results or autopsy seems like a promising
lead, we'll come right back out here."
"Well, since it doesn't seem like you're going to let go of this,
I guess we can go back," she says, secretly relieved he made the
decision. She felt foolish even considering it seeing as how she
was the one who got him up in the middle of the night to rush out
here. "Just let me change first."
He smiles and bends down to press a kiss on her cheek.
"Thank you," he whispers in her ear. "Thank you for letting me
take care of you for once, Scully."
She returns his smile before heading off to change back into her
regular clothes. When she returns, she finds him out in the
parking lot waiting by the car. She walks out to him and gets
into the car, not even looking back once. This is one autopsy
she's glad to leave behind.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 5
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Trying to get a flight back to D.C at the last minute was harder
than either of them thought it would be. After several delays,
they finally make it back home, exhausted when they walk into
Scully's apartment.
"I think that is officially the longest trip I've ever had from
Ohio to D.C," Mulder groans. "How about you?"
"I'll have to agree with you there," she smiles wearily, heading
towards her room with her luggage. "I'm shocked the test results
haven't beaten us here."
Just then, there's a sharp knock at the door. Mulder looks
through the peep hole and sees a young man holding a package and
a clip board.
"Well, let's just say that we just barely beat the test results,"
he says with a laugh.
"Go ahead and sign for the stuff, Mulder," she yells from the
room. "I'll be out in a second."
She quickly stashes her suitcase in the closet to unpack later.
Pulling out a pair of sweats, she pulls off the suit she traveled
in and changes into the more comfortable items. She grabs a pair
of socks for her feet and joins Mulder out in her living room.
"Anything?" she ask when she notices him flipping through a
folder with the victim's name on the outside. "The autopsy
results?"
"Yeah," he says, handing her the folder before picking up another
one containing details of the crime scene. The folder sits
untouched in her lap for a moment, as if she's afraid to touch
it. "Scully? You alright?"
"That seems to be the question of the day, doesn't it?" she says
with a little laugh. "It's just that I can't seem to get the
image of her laying on that cold slab out of my mind. Her hair
was about the same length as mine, Mulder. I think she dyed it
to that blonder shade. And her hands looked like my mother's.
Isn't that a strange thing to notice?"
"Not really," he says quietly, not really knowing what else to
say. He doesn't want to stop the flow of her feelings. It's so
rare that she shows them. It's good that she's letting them out
for a change.
"Yes. It is," she says, shaking her head. He can literally see
her transform back into FBI mode. "It's silly to sit here and
wax poetic about some dead woman just because she resembled me.
The fact of the matter is, she died of something. And we need to
be trying to figure that out instead of playing let's guess the
shape of her birthmark."
"Birthmark?"
"Another image burned in my mind for some reason. She had a
small, strawberry shaped mark behind her knee," she says
nonchalantly, finally finding the courage to open the file. She
quickly flips past the pictures and goes straight to the page
with the pathologist's findings.
"Scully, I thought the doctor said you barely made it past him
pulling the sheet back," Mulder says, sounding very confused.
"Let's not talk about that," she groans. "That was so
embarrassing."
"That's not what I'm really trying to get at," he says, shaking
his head. "You mentioned her hair and her hands. Those areas
were visible to you. But how did you know about the birthmark?"
"I must have seen it and didn't realize it," she explains
logically, turning back to her file. She misses the look on
Mulder's face that says he's not buying that theory. He doesn't
have much time to dwell on it, though. She lets out a small yelp
when she reaches a part in the file she was looking for.
"What?"
"They found a tiny hole in the heel of the woman's foot, just
like with Roberta Sim," she smiles. "It's looking more like
murder instead of suicide. I just have to look at the toxicology
results."
"And look at this," Mulder says, matching her news with a bit of
his own. "After getting word from the pathologist, the officers
were able to find a syringe at the woman's house with a partial
fingerprint. They're running it now. I think you're right about
this being murder."
"And maybe this print they found can lead us to the person that
did this. Maybe that person can lead us to information about
Emily. I refuse to believe all of this is coincidental, Mulder."
"I don't think so either," he says. "Did you check out the DNA
results yet?"
"Not yet," she says, reaching for the folder. She opens it to
the front page and starts to read it carefully so she won't miss
anything. After a few minutes, Mulder is too curious to keep
silent any longer.
"So? Is she related to Emily? Is she . . . yours?"
"No. She's not my daughter," Scully says. "According to these
test results, she's definitely Bridget Hanson's daughter."
"I hear a 'but' in there," Mulder says, noticing the confused
look on her face. "What else does it say?"
"She's definitely Bridget Hanson's daughter, but they also found
a strong compatibility between my blood and the little girl's
blood. So they ran a test on my blood and Bridget Hanson's blood
. . . "
Mulder watches with much concern and just the slightest bit of
amusement as all the blood visibly drains from Scully's face. He
has to react quickly and catch her as she starts to sway
unsteadily.
"Scully," he calls to her, watching with horror as her eyes begin
to roll back into her head. He gives her a gentle shake to try
to rouse her. "Stay with me, Scully. Come on."
He pushes her head between her knees to try to keep her from
passing out. A few moments later, he feels her trying to right
herself.
"I'm okay," she whispers shakily. "Thanks."
"Are you sure? Scully, what did those tests say that almost made
you pass out?"
"That our victim, Bridget Hanson, is my daughter." Her eyes
squeeze shut and tears spring freely from them. "Why are they
doing this to me, Mulder? Why me? This is just a cruel joke.
Someone set this whole thing up. Making it seem like what
happened out in San Diego with Emily. But it's all just a scam
to hurt me. I should have seen this coming. Everything about
this case has been identical to the other one. Except instead of
the little girl being mine, they're saying the woman is. That's
just ridiculous. She's what? 25? 26 years old? That would
have made me 10 when she was born."
"You really think that's what's going on here? Someone's idea of
a sick joke?" Mulder asks gently, trying to prevent another
outburst.
"I don't know what to think," she cries.
"Let's start with the facts," he suggests, picking up Bridget
Hanson's file. "According to her records, she was barely 21
years old."
"So what, Mulder. That still would have made me only 15 or 16
when I had her. I think I would know if I had had a child."
Maybe she wasn't thinking about what she said. Or maybe Mulder
had been thinking too much over the past few days. But it all
suddenly makes sense to him. Suddenly, all the pieces of the
puzzle are fitting together in a way that the picture is
blatantly obvious.
"Scully, what if . . . " he starts hesitantly, unsure of how to
ask the question that's now burning in his mind. "What if . . . "
"What, Mulder?" she asks, sounding suddenly very weary. Too
tired for him to even start this line of questioning, he
realizes. And way too tired to deal with the consequences of
opening this particular can of worms at this time. He decides to
wait.
"What if we put this away for the rest of tonight and deal with
it in the morning? You look exhausted."
"I think that's a good idea," she smiles. She reaches out to
organize the files when he stops her.
"I'll put all this stuff away. You just go on to bed. I'll lock
up when I leave."
"It's late, Mulder. And you must be tired, too. You're welcome
to stay here," she says shyly, blushing at how her offer sounds
in light of the shift in their relationship.
"Thanks, Scully," he smiles. "I might take you up on that offer.
And don't worry. I know this isn't an invitation to jump you."
The look on his face makes her laugh.
"Well that's a relief," she says, returning his joke. "Good
night, then."
"Hey Scully," he calls to her as she's turning away. "Being the
perfect gentleman tonight will be a whole lot easier if I got a
good night kiss."
"On the cheek," she says, giving him a coy smile. "Because after
one of your kisses, Mulder, I pretty sure I wouldn't want you to
remain a perfect gentleman tonight."
He lets out a sound that's a mixture of a laugh and a groan. He
loves it when Scully slings the innuendo back as quickly as he
dishes it. And as much as he was looking forward to that kiss,
he realizes she's right. Once he got her in his arms, he
wouldn't want to let go. And tonight, they're both too tired and
too emotional to do anything.
"Okay," he relents. "On the cheek." He closes his eyes and
breathes in her sweet scent as she presses a kiss to his cheek.
"Good night," she says again. This time he lets her go. As much
as he'd love to crawl into the bed and hold her all night long,
he knows he can't. He has work to do if he's going to get to the
bottom of what's happening with this case. He just wishes he
weren't so terrified by what he knows he's going to find when he
gets there.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 6
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Lochlyn McNeil. No wonder Mrs. Scully was so uncomfortable
talking about him. And no wonder she would just as soon forget
he ever existed. For the first time in his life, Mulder finds
himself wishing he had just let the truth stay buried.
He shuts down his e-mail and grabs the last paper from the stack
he printed out. The Lone Gunmen were able to easily find the
information he asked them about the day before.
Mr. McNeil appeared to be the pillar of the community. He
married a young Doris Scully, nearly 15 years his junior, right
after she graduated high school. Over the years, Doris tried to
hard to give him children, but they were never lucky enough. His
intense desire for a child turned into an obsession. He was
arrested in the early 80's for expressing that desire
inappropriately. The records don't list the name of the child.
But with a sickening realization, Mulder some how knows the
child's identity.
He carefully packs away the print outs, hoping to avoid showing
them to her for awhile. But he knows he can't keep this from her
forever. Secrets have a way of coming out. And her mind seems
to be unlocking this one a piece at a time. But this is
something even he can't deal with. He knows she won't be able to
handle it.
A sound comes from the bedroom. He listens closely and can hear
her yelling. Without a second thought, he leaps from his spot on
the couch and rushes to her side.
"It's okay, Scully," he says calmly, trying to ease her back to
consciousness. "It's me, Mulder."
She doesn't budge. Instead, she appears to go deeper into her
subconscious. He tries calling her with a little more force.
"Scully, wake up."
She reacts this time, reaching out a hand to him. He grabs it
and holds it, determined to sit there as long as it takes to wake
her.
* * * * * * * * * *
The pain is too much. Too much for her to bear. She just wants
it to be over. It's been going on for too long as it is.
"Push, Dana," a deep voice commands. She's too afraid to do
anything. But somehow, her body knows what to do and obeys.
"Good girl. Now rest for a minute."
Again she obeys. This time willingly. She tries in vain to get
her breath back, but finds all she can do is pant.
"Almost done, Dana. You're doing great."
She feels her mother wipe a wet cloth across her brow just as
another pain takes control. It's long and intense and feels as
if it's ripping her apart. Relief finally comes after an
explosion of pressure.
"It's a girl," her mother says. "Dana, it's a little girl."
She feels a prick in her arm and a heat spread throughout her
body. Her vision starts to blur and she knows she won't be able
to keep her eyes open much longer. With her last grasp on
consciousness, her head lolls to the side and she catches sight
of a small, wriggling mass in her mother's arm. A small bundle
topped with a reddish patch of hair and flailing a chubby leg
marred by a small, distinctive splotch.
"Let me see," she whispers. Her weakened arms reach out, wanting
so desperately to hold the tiny squalling mass.
"Let me see her," she yells louder. She reaches her arms out
again, this time feeling something grab her back.
"Scully, wake up."
She sits up with a gasp. She's back in her room. And Mulder's
sitting on the edge of her bed holding her arms.
"It's was the dream again," she says. "I actually saw the baby
this time."
"That's why you were yelling when I came in here," he nods,
suddenly understanding.
"Why is this happening to me?" she whispers, falling into his
arms. He can feel her body trembling and holds her even closer.
"Why am I dreaming now about a little baby girl that could be
Bridget Hanson? The hair. The birthmark. I saw it all. I
never saw those details before tonight. Is it because of the
case?"
"I don't think so," he says quietly.
"What do you mean? This is all just a coincidence, Mulder," she
insists.
"Scully," he says, taking her hand in his own, more for his
comfort than for her own.
"Mulder, you're scaring me," she says, a concerned look in her
eyes. "What is it?"
"Scully, I think there's more to this than you're willing to see.
And I think . . . "
"Just spit it out," she practically begs him.
"There are questions that neither of us can answer. And I think
there's only one person who can. Scully, we need to go talk to
your mother."
To be continued . . .
Thanks for all the feedback. I really appreciate it. I'm just
about done with it. One more tiny part to finish writing and
I'll be able to finish posting. Thanks again :-)
Author - Henle Girl
Rating - R for disturbing subject matter
Category - Mulder/Scully Romance, Angst
Spoilers - Chimera
Summary - As memories from Scully's past begin to manifest
themselves to her, Mrs. Scully learns the hard way how buried
secrets can come back to haunt you.
Disclaimer - The characters don't belong to me. I'm just
borrowing them for my own therapeutic purposes. They will be
returned relatively unharmed to Chris Carter, or whoever wants
to borrow them next, when I'm done.
Feedback: PLEASE!!! Henle_Girl@hotmail.com
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 4
* * * * * * * * * * * *
She had expected it. In theory. But actually seeing the child .
. . she can't breath. It literally feels like vice closing in on
her chest. She attempts a few deep breaths, but only ends up
sounding like she has emphysema.
"Scully? Are you okay?" Mulder asks her, seeing that she's
obviously anything but. She can't manage to catch her breath to
answer him, so she just shakes her head. On that admission, he
takes her by the arm and leads her out to the front porch where
they'll have a little more privacy. When they're alone, he wraps
his arms around her, hugging her close to his body.
"Did you see her, Mulder?" she gasps. "That little girl. She
looks just like, her. She looks just like Emily. What's going
on here? Have they made another one?"
"I don't know. But we'll get to the bottom of it," he promises
her. "But you have to calm down. We need to keep our heads in
this situation and investigate this before evidence starts
disappearing the way we've seen it happen so many times before."
"You think this is like what happened with Emily and her adopted
parents?" She pulls out of his embrace and looks up at him.
"It all seems the same," he shrugs. "The murder rigged to look
like a suicide. The little girl who looks like Emily. I don't
see what else could be going on. We'll have to run tests,
though."
"I'll start with the autopsy," she tells him. "We can also get a
sample from the little girl to see if she's like Emily in any
way."
"Scully, are you sure? That detective said this woman could be
your twin. Doing an autopsy on her might be kind of weird."
"I have to, Mulder," she says quietly, although his objections
really do make sense. "If they treat this like a suicide, they
won't do a thorough post mortem on her. They'll probably miss
the signs of murder, like they did in the Roberta Sim case. I'll
be okay," she smiles, trying to reassure him.
"If you insist on doing this, then I'm coming with you," he
sighs, realizing that there's nothing he can do to stop her. He
pulls her close for one more hug before reluctantly letting her
go. He knows this is going to be hard on her. If he can't stop
her, all he can do is be there to catch her when she falls.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Mulder paces nervously outside the autopsy bay, mentally
calculating how long it will be before the autopsy is over.
Mulder knows that when Scully wants to do a through job, it could
take hours. He's not looking forward to spending hours out in
the hallway, but he'll do whatever it takes for Scully. She's
going to need him afterwards. And he's determined to be there
for her.
He's just getting settled in a seat with a magazine, preparing
for a long wait, when the doors fly open and Scully rushes past
him. Another pathologist, a man that looks to be a few years
older than him, comes out, a concerned look on his face.
"What happened in there?" Mulder asks.
"I wish I knew," the doctor shrugs. "I pulled back the sheet and
she rushed out of there like a first year med student. Although,
I must say I can hardly blame her. It's spooky how much the
victim resembles Dr. Scully."
"I tried to talk her out of doing the autopsy," Mulder sighs,
running a hand through his hair. "She insisted. She has this
need to prove herself to everybody."
"The only thing she would have been proving to anyone by doing
that autopsy is that she has a heart of stone. I don't know
anyone who would be able to perform under those conditions. I
know I wouldn't have. Is she going to be okay?"
"I think this has been too much for her. We're going to head
back home. Do you think you can send us the results of your exam
to us there?"
"Of course." the doctor nods. "Along with the DNA work up both
the mother and little girl she requested."
"Thanks. And if you think of anything else, let me know."
Mulder pulls out one of his cards and hands it to the doctor.
The men shake hands before parting ways, the doctor back into the
autopsy bay and Mulder to find Scully. His search is successful
a few minutes later when he runs across her coming out of the
ladies bathroom.
"You okay, Scully?" he asks tentatively, not knowing what
reaction to expect from her.
"I feel like a fool," she says quietly, holding her head down in
shame. "I ran out of there like it was the first dead body I'd
ever seen."
"Or maybe it was because it's the first dead body you've ever
seen that looks identical to yours. Give yourself a break,
Scully. That's not an easy thing to face. Trust me on this one.
That's why I have yet to see this body. I don't think I could
handle seeing you dead," he tells her, lifting a hand to her face
to cup her cheek.
She leans into his touch, enjoying the feeling of his skin
touching hers. She furthers the contact by lifting her own hand
and holding him closer.
"How about we get out of here?" he suggests. "We can call the
airport on the way to try to get a ticket back home."
"Mulder, I'm fine," she insists. "There's more here we need to
investigate."
"They're going to send the results to us in D.C. Any
investigating we can do from there," he counters.
"But . . . "
"But nothing. Scully, can you honestly tell me you're up for
this?"
"No," she practically whispers.
"Neither am I, to tell you the truth. So let's go home, okay?
There's nothing more we can do here right now. I promise you, if
something in the DNA results or autopsy seems like a promising
lead, we'll come right back out here."
"Well, since it doesn't seem like you're going to let go of this,
I guess we can go back," she says, secretly relieved he made the
decision. She felt foolish even considering it seeing as how she
was the one who got him up in the middle of the night to rush out
here. "Just let me change first."
He smiles and bends down to press a kiss on her cheek.
"Thank you," he whispers in her ear. "Thank you for letting me
take care of you for once, Scully."
She returns his smile before heading off to change back into her
regular clothes. When she returns, she finds him out in the
parking lot waiting by the car. She walks out to him and gets
into the car, not even looking back once. This is one autopsy
she's glad to leave behind.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 5
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Trying to get a flight back to D.C at the last minute was harder
than either of them thought it would be. After several delays,
they finally make it back home, exhausted when they walk into
Scully's apartment.
"I think that is officially the longest trip I've ever had from
Ohio to D.C," Mulder groans. "How about you?"
"I'll have to agree with you there," she smiles wearily, heading
towards her room with her luggage. "I'm shocked the test results
haven't beaten us here."
Just then, there's a sharp knock at the door. Mulder looks
through the peep hole and sees a young man holding a package and
a clip board.
"Well, let's just say that we just barely beat the test results,"
he says with a laugh.
"Go ahead and sign for the stuff, Mulder," she yells from the
room. "I'll be out in a second."
She quickly stashes her suitcase in the closet to unpack later.
Pulling out a pair of sweats, she pulls off the suit she traveled
in and changes into the more comfortable items. She grabs a pair
of socks for her feet and joins Mulder out in her living room.
"Anything?" she ask when she notices him flipping through a
folder with the victim's name on the outside. "The autopsy
results?"
"Yeah," he says, handing her the folder before picking up another
one containing details of the crime scene. The folder sits
untouched in her lap for a moment, as if she's afraid to touch
it. "Scully? You alright?"
"That seems to be the question of the day, doesn't it?" she says
with a little laugh. "It's just that I can't seem to get the
image of her laying on that cold slab out of my mind. Her hair
was about the same length as mine, Mulder. I think she dyed it
to that blonder shade. And her hands looked like my mother's.
Isn't that a strange thing to notice?"
"Not really," he says quietly, not really knowing what else to
say. He doesn't want to stop the flow of her feelings. It's so
rare that she shows them. It's good that she's letting them out
for a change.
"Yes. It is," she says, shaking her head. He can literally see
her transform back into FBI mode. "It's silly to sit here and
wax poetic about some dead woman just because she resembled me.
The fact of the matter is, she died of something. And we need to
be trying to figure that out instead of playing let's guess the
shape of her birthmark."
"Birthmark?"
"Another image burned in my mind for some reason. She had a
small, strawberry shaped mark behind her knee," she says
nonchalantly, finally finding the courage to open the file. She
quickly flips past the pictures and goes straight to the page
with the pathologist's findings.
"Scully, I thought the doctor said you barely made it past him
pulling the sheet back," Mulder says, sounding very confused.
"Let's not talk about that," she groans. "That was so
embarrassing."
"That's not what I'm really trying to get at," he says, shaking
his head. "You mentioned her hair and her hands. Those areas
were visible to you. But how did you know about the birthmark?"
"I must have seen it and didn't realize it," she explains
logically, turning back to her file. She misses the look on
Mulder's face that says he's not buying that theory. He doesn't
have much time to dwell on it, though. She lets out a small yelp
when she reaches a part in the file she was looking for.
"What?"
"They found a tiny hole in the heel of the woman's foot, just
like with Roberta Sim," she smiles. "It's looking more like
murder instead of suicide. I just have to look at the toxicology
results."
"And look at this," Mulder says, matching her news with a bit of
his own. "After getting word from the pathologist, the officers
were able to find a syringe at the woman's house with a partial
fingerprint. They're running it now. I think you're right about
this being murder."
"And maybe this print they found can lead us to the person that
did this. Maybe that person can lead us to information about
Emily. I refuse to believe all of this is coincidental, Mulder."
"I don't think so either," he says. "Did you check out the DNA
results yet?"
"Not yet," she says, reaching for the folder. She opens it to
the front page and starts to read it carefully so she won't miss
anything. After a few minutes, Mulder is too curious to keep
silent any longer.
"So? Is she related to Emily? Is she . . . yours?"
"No. She's not my daughter," Scully says. "According to these
test results, she's definitely Bridget Hanson's daughter."
"I hear a 'but' in there," Mulder says, noticing the confused
look on her face. "What else does it say?"
"She's definitely Bridget Hanson's daughter, but they also found
a strong compatibility between my blood and the little girl's
blood. So they ran a test on my blood and Bridget Hanson's blood
. . . "
Mulder watches with much concern and just the slightest bit of
amusement as all the blood visibly drains from Scully's face. He
has to react quickly and catch her as she starts to sway
unsteadily.
"Scully," he calls to her, watching with horror as her eyes begin
to roll back into her head. He gives her a gentle shake to try
to rouse her. "Stay with me, Scully. Come on."
He pushes her head between her knees to try to keep her from
passing out. A few moments later, he feels her trying to right
herself.
"I'm okay," she whispers shakily. "Thanks."
"Are you sure? Scully, what did those tests say that almost made
you pass out?"
"That our victim, Bridget Hanson, is my daughter." Her eyes
squeeze shut and tears spring freely from them. "Why are they
doing this to me, Mulder? Why me? This is just a cruel joke.
Someone set this whole thing up. Making it seem like what
happened out in San Diego with Emily. But it's all just a scam
to hurt me. I should have seen this coming. Everything about
this case has been identical to the other one. Except instead of
the little girl being mine, they're saying the woman is. That's
just ridiculous. She's what? 25? 26 years old? That would
have made me 10 when she was born."
"You really think that's what's going on here? Someone's idea of
a sick joke?" Mulder asks gently, trying to prevent another
outburst.
"I don't know what to think," she cries.
"Let's start with the facts," he suggests, picking up Bridget
Hanson's file. "According to her records, she was barely 21
years old."
"So what, Mulder. That still would have made me only 15 or 16
when I had her. I think I would know if I had had a child."
Maybe she wasn't thinking about what she said. Or maybe Mulder
had been thinking too much over the past few days. But it all
suddenly makes sense to him. Suddenly, all the pieces of the
puzzle are fitting together in a way that the picture is
blatantly obvious.
"Scully, what if . . . " he starts hesitantly, unsure of how to
ask the question that's now burning in his mind. "What if . . . "
"What, Mulder?" she asks, sounding suddenly very weary. Too
tired for him to even start this line of questioning, he
realizes. And way too tired to deal with the consequences of
opening this particular can of worms at this time. He decides to
wait.
"What if we put this away for the rest of tonight and deal with
it in the morning? You look exhausted."
"I think that's a good idea," she smiles. She reaches out to
organize the files when he stops her.
"I'll put all this stuff away. You just go on to bed. I'll lock
up when I leave."
"It's late, Mulder. And you must be tired, too. You're welcome
to stay here," she says shyly, blushing at how her offer sounds
in light of the shift in their relationship.
"Thanks, Scully," he smiles. "I might take you up on that offer.
And don't worry. I know this isn't an invitation to jump you."
The look on his face makes her laugh.
"Well that's a relief," she says, returning his joke. "Good
night, then."
"Hey Scully," he calls to her as she's turning away. "Being the
perfect gentleman tonight will be a whole lot easier if I got a
good night kiss."
"On the cheek," she says, giving him a coy smile. "Because after
one of your kisses, Mulder, I pretty sure I wouldn't want you to
remain a perfect gentleman tonight."
He lets out a sound that's a mixture of a laugh and a groan. He
loves it when Scully slings the innuendo back as quickly as he
dishes it. And as much as he was looking forward to that kiss,
he realizes she's right. Once he got her in his arms, he
wouldn't want to let go. And tonight, they're both too tired and
too emotional to do anything.
"Okay," he relents. "On the cheek." He closes his eyes and
breathes in her sweet scent as she presses a kiss to his cheek.
"Good night," she says again. This time he lets her go. As much
as he'd love to crawl into the bed and hold her all night long,
he knows he can't. He has work to do if he's going to get to the
bottom of what's happening with this case. He just wishes he
weren't so terrified by what he knows he's going to find when he
gets there.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter 6
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Lochlyn McNeil. No wonder Mrs. Scully was so uncomfortable
talking about him. And no wonder she would just as soon forget
he ever existed. For the first time in his life, Mulder finds
himself wishing he had just let the truth stay buried.
He shuts down his e-mail and grabs the last paper from the stack
he printed out. The Lone Gunmen were able to easily find the
information he asked them about the day before.
Mr. McNeil appeared to be the pillar of the community. He
married a young Doris Scully, nearly 15 years his junior, right
after she graduated high school. Over the years, Doris tried to
hard to give him children, but they were never lucky enough. His
intense desire for a child turned into an obsession. He was
arrested in the early 80's for expressing that desire
inappropriately. The records don't list the name of the child.
But with a sickening realization, Mulder some how knows the
child's identity.
He carefully packs away the print outs, hoping to avoid showing
them to her for awhile. But he knows he can't keep this from her
forever. Secrets have a way of coming out. And her mind seems
to be unlocking this one a piece at a time. But this is
something even he can't deal with. He knows she won't be able to
handle it.
A sound comes from the bedroom. He listens closely and can hear
her yelling. Without a second thought, he leaps from his spot on
the couch and rushes to her side.
"It's okay, Scully," he says calmly, trying to ease her back to
consciousness. "It's me, Mulder."
She doesn't budge. Instead, she appears to go deeper into her
subconscious. He tries calling her with a little more force.
"Scully, wake up."
She reacts this time, reaching out a hand to him. He grabs it
and holds it, determined to sit there as long as it takes to wake
her.
* * * * * * * * * *
The pain is too much. Too much for her to bear. She just wants
it to be over. It's been going on for too long as it is.
"Push, Dana," a deep voice commands. She's too afraid to do
anything. But somehow, her body knows what to do and obeys.
"Good girl. Now rest for a minute."
Again she obeys. This time willingly. She tries in vain to get
her breath back, but finds all she can do is pant.
"Almost done, Dana. You're doing great."
She feels her mother wipe a wet cloth across her brow just as
another pain takes control. It's long and intense and feels as
if it's ripping her apart. Relief finally comes after an
explosion of pressure.
"It's a girl," her mother says. "Dana, it's a little girl."
She feels a prick in her arm and a heat spread throughout her
body. Her vision starts to blur and she knows she won't be able
to keep her eyes open much longer. With her last grasp on
consciousness, her head lolls to the side and she catches sight
of a small, wriggling mass in her mother's arm. A small bundle
topped with a reddish patch of hair and flailing a chubby leg
marred by a small, distinctive splotch.
"Let me see," she whispers. Her weakened arms reach out, wanting
so desperately to hold the tiny squalling mass.
"Let me see her," she yells louder. She reaches her arms out
again, this time feeling something grab her back.
"Scully, wake up."
She sits up with a gasp. She's back in her room. And Mulder's
sitting on the edge of her bed holding her arms.
"It's was the dream again," she says. "I actually saw the baby
this time."
"That's why you were yelling when I came in here," he nods,
suddenly understanding.
"Why is this happening to me?" she whispers, falling into his
arms. He can feel her body trembling and holds her even closer.
"Why am I dreaming now about a little baby girl that could be
Bridget Hanson? The hair. The birthmark. I saw it all. I
never saw those details before tonight. Is it because of the
case?"
"I don't think so," he says quietly.
"What do you mean? This is all just a coincidence, Mulder," she
insists.
"Scully," he says, taking her hand in his own, more for his
comfort than for her own.
"Mulder, you're scaring me," she says, a concerned look in her
eyes. "What is it?"
"Scully, I think there's more to this than you're willing to see.
And I think . . . "
"Just spit it out," she practically begs him.
"There are questions that neither of us can answer. And I think
there's only one person who can. Scully, we need to go talk to
your mother."
To be continued . . .
Thanks for all the feedback. I really appreciate it. I'm just
about done with it. One more tiny part to finish writing and
I'll be able to finish posting. Thanks again :-)