Effect


They saw the blazing house as soon as the sun set, but common sense held them back. The house was far away, the night dark, the town unaware of their whereabouts. People would worry.

Skinner and Scully climbed up the slope, towards the valley that would be pitch-black by now. They weren't supposed to leave the lights on past sunset, as to avoid detection. They reached cooler and cooler air and then the valley of darkness.

Morning brought a new crisis, which delayed them further. Scully was inwardly furious, taking her hopelessness and turning it into rage—something she could use. There had been an accident, one of the two qualified doctors had gone into a coma, and six others had severe injuries. They needed her to stay there, to assist, to keep these people from dying.

And she did. She did for two and a half weeks, because they would not let her go. So Scully stayed by their bedsides for hours without sleep, because, dammit, if they were sacrificing Mulder for the seven—the seven were all going to live.

After two of those weeks, she was near breakdown whenever spoken to. People had been speaking soothingly to Dana, as if she were a child. People were acting like Dana wasn't a capable adult, when here she was, keeping seven people from dying. She felt like every day was a lifetime too long, and they were telling her everything was fine.

They told Scully that Mulder was probably fine, just like she would be fine, and everything had always been fine before the end. Mulder had to be fine if someone had bothered to take him in, to rescue him. And she could do nothing to prove her sanity, to prove she was right, because after all, it was simply a feeling that something was horribly wrong. It had always been that way, she thought with a smirk, Mulder had a feeling; it was right, they didn't believe him.

After two and a half weeks, and they still hadn't let her find him, people in the settlement would find her in the infirmary and would reassure her with fake smiles. And finally she lashed out. Someone was telling her that Mulder would probably show up at their doorstep any day now and Scully snapped. Six of the seven people were healthy, and the doctor was out of the coma in a stable condition, and they still believed that Mulder was fine after two weeks in nowhere and that she would sit happily doing nothing.

Scully screamed at anyone who tried to comfort her, because the entire situation was utterly stupid and idiotic now. The people around her were incapable and she couldn't believe that they would expect her to sit there and wait for Mulder to come to her. He isn't coming and she knows it. Skinner comes and she unleashes more anger on him. But unlike the others, he stays and he listens. Skinner understands beneath his calm demeanor, one can see it in his eyes. She has and always will be grateful for that.

When she has stopped her tirade, he grabs her and holds her tightly, and tells her that they're going to find him. The fire in her eyes dissolves and she cries because it feels so good to have someone on her side—a friend, just a friend, who sincerely believes in her and does not try to be anything more or less.

In a red dawn the following morning, a party of five leaves the settlement. They have supplies for a short stakeout, in addition to those to help Mulder if he is injured. The house is an hour from the town outskirts. If they're lucky, they can make it back in a day, two if something goes wrong.

In mid afternoon, they arrive. They quickly decide not to ring the doorbell.

A woman sees them in plain sight and fires at them through a window. A bullet whizzes past Rex's head, and they sprint for cover behind a shed in the dusty yard. They didn't look like aliens, they didn't even have their guns drawn, but the woman fires at them with terror and screams that "they won't be taking her."

Later on, they have moved next to a window without her noticing. They can see Mulder—he is face-down, disheveled and unmoving. Scully breathes a sigh of relief when he does move. Unfortunately it is only to eat something unidentifiable, before he lays down again, exhausted and sickly. He looks dead and beaten. Mulder's face is blank and pale, and somehow he seems not to have slept in days.

The plan is simple. Keep a close eye on where the woman is, when she seems to be farther away, break through a window/door and grab Mulder. Run for the shed while the others lay down cover fire and attempt to pacify/disarm the woman. Stay in the brightly lit house for the night, tend to Mulder, leave at dawn the next morning. Simple.

But then, an hour past sunset, the blaze is extinguished, and they hear laughing inside. Scully gasps, because it sounds like Mulder, and he sounds like he has finally succumbed to the forces of madness that have always plagued them. She is terrified, because Mulder's laugh sounds like that of death.

Then there is a scream, the laughing stops, and the house is still pitch black. Scully begins to run towards the side door. It doesn't matter where the vile woman is, because she thinks that if she doesn't get to Mulder now, everything will end.


TBC. Sorry for the wait, it took me a while to get this chapter where it is. I still have to write the next chapter, so it may take a little while longer. Meanwhile, I'm thinking this fic will probably end in the next 2 ch., but it will have follow-ups—since I meant this fic to be a series of unrelated/slightly unrelated vignettes in the first place.

Thank you to kestra—Yaa! Another reader! Very glad you're enjoying it.

FireLight1- Thanks for continued reading, your reviews mean a lot.