Title: Disciple
Author: CeilidhO
Summary: What if Scully had accepted the transfer to Salt Lake City? Five years later, a horrifying murder case reunites her with Mulder, even as it threatens to rip apart her life.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one here that was not on the show. The rest are mine. I make no money from this. The X-Files and its world belong to the Man, Chris Carter.
WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SOME DISTURBING DESCRIPTIONS. READER DISCRETION ADVISED.
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Soft piano tinkled from the corner as Scully walked into the restaurant, the soft lighting aggravating her eyes. The phone call from Rob had come after the initial excitement of her discovery, asking her to meet him at eight at the Piastra restaurant on State St., not far from the FBI building. He sounded happy.
Scully had been at work for the rest of the day, writing up the autopsy report in full, filing it with the others, barely able to keep still until she had written her theory down and placed it on top of the case file. Mulder and Paring had shut themselves in the office, bouncing ideas off of each other, sharing their thoughts, their theories meshing and supplementing each other, spinning off in new directions.
Scully was envious, remembering when it was her, and only her, whom he trusted with his thoughts. She knew she was ridiculous feeling it. Agent Paring was like him, someone trained to do just what they were doing, trained to do something she could not. Still, it hurt more then she would have expected.
She had been glad to get away at seven, her head clouded and her thoughts fuzzy, glad to go home and change for the emergency immersion back into her real life. She had to work at sharpening her gaze, at keeping her mind on the things directly in front of her. She felt like everything was slipping away slowly and quietly, like being too silent at a party and then suddenly realizing that you are alone, that everything had moved on without you.
Scully felt like asking someone to slap her, or shake her, anything to wake her up.
The marble of the restaurant foyer clicked beneath her heel.
The headwaiter walked up to her, extending his hand, his expensive cologne wafting over her.
"You must be Dana Scully. I was told by Mr. Abrams to watch for an exquisite lady with equally beautiful red hair. I knew you just had to be she." His voice was oily and slick. Scully worked very hard to smile.
"That's very kind of you to say." She managed to get out. The waiter inclined his head, gesturing grandly with his hand toward the seating area. Scully followed him past the red velvet rope, to a beautifully set table in the back. Rob stood up as she approached.
"Hey, Dana," he murmured. "You look gorgeous." Scully reddened slightly, feeling herself relax as she took in his familiar face. She suddenly felt on the verge of tears. She leaned forward to kiss him softly, touching his cheek slowly with the tips of her fingers, and then pressing her whole palm against it, feeling the stubble just beginning, marring the silk of his skin. Through her palm she held him like a lifeline, slowing the wild spinning exit of her thoughts. Gravity seemed to reassert itself on her mind, and it settled back like the talcum from her gloves. She took a deep breath.
Rob looked stunned.
"Wow." He murmured. "I've missed you too."
The car slid quietly into the parking space, the streetlights reflecting in tiny constellations off the roof and sides. Scully shut the passenger door behind her with a gentle thump, staring up at the sky as she waited for Rob. She heard his door shut. The dim orange light in the car faded and died. He took her hand, walking her in silence to the door of her apartment, standing silhouetted with her against the night. His eyes were troubled.
"Dana…" He began, and then changed his mind. "Oh, god. I'm so sorry you have to do this. It's not something anyone should ever have to deal with, not ever. Those poor boys… Their poor parents… Oh, man…" His eyes were glittering. She couldn't stand to see it. He gazed at the doorknob, at the ground, anywhere but her. She slipped her hands over his cheeks, touching the corner of his eye with her thumb. Rob looked up then, and kissed her suddenly, breathlessly, and then hugged her to him.
"Dana," he whispered into her shoulder. "Can we call Tyler?"
She understood completely.
Later in the night she watched him sleeping beside her, his arm thrown across the bed, his hand dangling limply off the edge, fingers trailing in the still air. She imagined that he was dead.
Suddenly, he was, his pale, cold flesh hanging off his bones, his eyes, livid red and blank, staring up at her, bruises deep on his neck and wrists. And then the blood, seeping over her white sheets, pouring from his back, glittering dark in the moonlight, running over the bed toward her…
She opened her eyes with a snap, gasping in mute horror, hair streaming over the pillow behind her. The moon shone through the curtains, illuminating only the slight sheen of sweat on the body of the man beside her.
The man stood, resplendent in the candlelight, the same golden shadows sliding over the bare bodies of him and the boy. The boy was empty, his purpose fulfilled, his soul departed, leaving the man with only the used canvas of his body.
It was not enough. It never was. True, the canvas was beautiful, and it was his, but it was not a masterpiece. With each canvas his art improved, but never enough to satisfy him. The wings he saw in his visions never made it perfectly out through his hand, and it only increased his frustration.
The man forced himself to remain calm. Soon he would allow this Work to see the light, and he had already selected his next boy-canvas. He just had to remember:
He was one step closer.
There was a message from Alex Paring on Scully's answering machine the next day, Saturday morning, telling her that they didn't need her at the moment, if she wanted the day off. She knew that he was trying to get into her good books. She hadn't been as kind to him as she could have.
Rob used the opportunity to take her to his parents' in Park City. The day was overcast and heavy, matching the shadows under Scully's eyes as they sped along the I-80, the brownish green hills rising on either side of the car. Soon enough the road branched out into flatter land, the hills grey in the distance. They were the only ones on the road.
Scully gazed out the window, watching the sky for hawks like she always did on car trips. It had been a marvel for her to see them so often after moving to Utah, to see them sailing on the thermals rising off the hot scrubland. It felt to her like they meant something, something she couldn't quite grasp, but loved all the same.
Rob smiled at her without taking his eyes off the road, knowing from their years together exactly what she was looking for. He turned on the radio and then took her hand gently in his own, the music floating softly from the speakers on the doors. Scully took her eyes from the sky long enough to smile back, squeezing his hand briefly. She heard him take a deep breath.
"So," he said nonchalantly. "Tell me about Agent Mulder." Scully closed her eyes tightly, acknowledging to herself that they had to have this conversation eventually. She opened her eyes, staring blindly out into the plain.
"What do you want to know?" she made herself ask. He didn't look at her.
"Everything."
She laughed quietly, humourlessly. "No one knows everything about Fox Mulder." She dropped her gaze. "Well, let's see… He was born on Martha's Vin-"
Rob cut in: "I don't care about where he was born or anything like that," he said harshly. "And you know that, Dana." She leaned back against the headrest, closed her eyes again, and opened them slowly.
"You want to know about us." She said flatly. It wasn't a question, and he didn't answer.
"We were very close." She finally began. "Closer than partners, closer than friends. We went through so many things together, so many things that were so unreal that they're hazy in my memory, like dreams. I can't even begin to explain most of those five years on the X-Files, but one thing I do remember is that the only people we could completely trust, the only people who could truly understand, were each other." She swallowed, and then continued.
"Living like that, in this unreal universe in that damn office, had this strange effect, made it seem like that the two of us were the only real people in the whole world. I guess we really had it backwards. Anyway, that sort of thing makes you close to each other in a way that can't be boxed or sorted like any other kind of relationship. We were each other's world… I was his constant, his touchstone…" Her voice trailed off as she remembered. Rob's face was tight.
"Were you lovers?" he asked roughly. She closed her eyes.
"No."
"Were you in love with him?"
Scully dug deep into her head, searching for the answer. She knew she had to be honest.
"Maybe… I don't know. I could have been… I might have been." She ran a hand through her hair, realizing the truth. "I think I was."
It felt good to say it.
Rob nodded quietly, slowly. They drove the rest of the way in silence.
The Abrams' house in Park City was a quiet, modest outpost of suburbia. They parked in front of the two and a half story brick house, climbing the worn wooden steps to the wrap-around porch, ringing the doorbell on the cheerful green door, listening to the novelty tune ring out into the house. Chuck Abrams had installed it for the grandchildren.
The door opened quickly, and Rob was enveloped in a warm hug from his mother, Tallulah, and his knees were attacked by several small nieces and nephews. Scully stood awkwardly on the stoop, clutching the fruit salad she had made, completely ignored by everyone around her. Finally she was acknowledged by Mrs. Abrams, who coolly air kissed her and cooed "Oh, you shouldn't have!" to Rob. She swept off into the house, leaving Scully to show herself in. On his way past her, Rob squeezed her hand quickly and smiled, heading in his mother's wake.
Scully stood alone in the front entrance, taking off her shoes slowly, fighting back the palpable resentment in the house. 'Dana Scully was not supposed to be here,' she thought sarcastically to herself. 'Julia Ramsey was supposed to arrive on the arm of their son, and be loved by the whole family. Well, a drunk driver put a hitch in that plan, and now I'm here instead. Aren't I lucky.' She immediately felt awful, and suddenly, fiercely, missed her own family. Unexpectedly, a voice sounded from the door to the study.
"Hey, sweetheart." Scully looked up. To her relief, it was Rob's father, the only one in the family other than Rob and Tyler who seemed to like her. He treated her almost like a daughter. She smiled tiredly.
"Hi, Chuck."
"There are some snacks set up in the parlour. You better come quick if you want any. I swear, grandkids are like locusts." She laughed slightly and followed him into the sitting room.
Rob's sister Martha was regaling them with stories of her children, seven-year-old George and five year old Tegan. Scully seated herself politely out of the way, listening attentively, fending off daydreams. Her talk with Rob was tempting her to slip back into her memories, but she knew that if the family thought that she didn't care about their stories, she would stand no chance of ever being accepted by them.
The talking went on for another two hours at least, the time passing by in a haze of bland cookies and mineral water, the stories including everyone but her. She couldn't make herself join in. Just as they were heading in to the dining room for lunch, Scully's cell phone rang from deep within her bag in the closet. Tallulah pursed her lips. Scully flushed and gestured at the closet.
"I'll… I'll just get that. Don't worry about it, go ahead and start without me." She dashed over and rummaged through the bags, finding her purse and retrieving the phone.
"Dana Scully."
"Dana! We've been trying to reach you for hours, where the hell have you been?"
"I'm at Rob's parents', Dan. What is it?"
"Shit, Dana. Get your butt down here as soon as you can."
"What's happened?" There was only heavy breathing on the other end, and then Dan spoke in a broken voice full of unshed tears.
"Damn it… There's another one."
She felt herself go cold. "Another… Another boy?"
She could hear Dan's voice crack as he answered. "Oh god… Yeah, another boy. Dana, he's messed up real bad." She was numb.
"I'm coming right now. I can be there in about forty five minutes."
She hung up without saying goodbye.
In the dining room, lunch was in full swing. Everyone was cheerful and laughing, oblivious to her absence. Scully cleared her throat and spoke above the noise.
"I have to go. There's an emergency at work. Uh, thank you very much for your hospitality… I have to go." She fled the room, hurriedly pulling on her shoes and grabbing her bag. She could hear Mrs. Abrams through the hallway.
"Typical. Always running off, so superior with her 'better things to do'…"
Rob was standing next to her suddenly, his face full of concern.
"Dana? What is it, what's wrong?"
Scully answered without looking up. "They've found another body. I've got to get back right now. I'm sorry." He did his best to smile.
"It's okay. I can catch a ride with Martha or John. Good luck." He handed her his keys.
"Thanks." She kissed him swiftly and slipped out the door, trying not to hear the continued tirade of Mrs. Abrams.
The car started after three tries, and Scully sped off onto the highway.
Fifty minutes later, she barrelled through the front doors of the FBI building. She raced past the metal detector, the guard on duty waving her through. The elevator spat her out at the third floor, and she ran down the hallway to the tiny morgue, her heart pounding in her ears. She hurled the doors open in front of her, and stood finally in the blue toned room, the sound of her ragged breath ringing of the metal slabs.
It was then that everything seemed to move very slowly. Dan Morris turned to her, his eyes still bright with tears. Mulder turned around at her entrance, and they stared at each other across the room. Scully felt herself begin to slide, her thoughts losing control as her mental gravity disappeared. She walked forward ponderously, her heart thudding in her chest and ears.
And then Dan pulled back the sheet.
She had never seen anything to equal the sheer destruction laid before her eyes. The boy's back was a mess of pulp and sliced flesh, flashes of white bone visible through the overwhelming red mass. His head was thrown back at an impossible angle, the bruises black and livid on his neck. His eyes seemed to almost glow from the scarlet of the haemorrhaging, the pupils tiny black spots in their brilliance.
His eyelids had been cut off.
Scully felt the bile rising in her throat and ran for the bathroom at the far end of the hall. She could hear someone coming after her but she didn't care. The horrible images were still coming to fast and thick, replaying in her mind.
The doors to the bathroom opened with a gust of air freshener, and Scully threw herself over one of the gleaming toilets, her hair swinging in a red curtain across her face. She felt her stomach clench, and then she vomited her disgust and exhaustion, feeling the tile cold under her knees and the tears streaming down her cheeks.
Someone's hand reached across her damp forehead, pulling her hair back from her face, and someone's voice whispered comforting things into her ear. She gave herself over to the fear, unhappiness, exhaustion and sickness of the last few days, and when there was nothing left she rocked back on her heels, and fell into the cradling embrace of Fox Mulder.
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A/N: Hey! Once again, sorry for the delay. I'm a bit sick with a cold and I was at a bit of a dead end creative-wise until today.
And also, thanks for the fab reviews. You don't know how encouraging it is to hear you like it, especially for a first timer like me. ~ Ceilidh