Abandoned Amusement Park
December 17, 2017
6:00 a.m.
Mulder shivered in the early morning air as they walked through the abandoned amusement park, taking in the broken, dirty, and heavily graffitied buildings. He cleared his throat as he put his hands in his pockets and glanced at Scully.
She was looking around too, while making sure to avoid debris, overturned trash cans and broken glass. She shook her head as she slowed down, reading a rather disgustingly graffitied wall.
"I remember reading about this place being so destroyed, but seeing it…" She shook her head again and he nodded in agreement.
There were police floodlights set up sporadically to light their way to the crime scene as the sun was not up yet. Police officers were stationed along the way with flashlights to also help guide the way.
Making a right at the end of the main street, they saw three white sheets covering the bodies on the ground. Sheriff Lavonne caught Mulder 's eye, excusing himself and walking toward them.
He sighed as he reached them and shook their hands, shaking his head as he put his hand into his jacket pocket and took out a pack of nicotine gum. Popping a piece from the pouch, he put it into his mouth, sighing as he chewed it.
"Sorry, I wouldn't normally be chewing gum, but it's this or I go out of my damn mind," he apologized and they both nodded with a small smile. Sighing again, he began to tell them what had happened as they turned away from the bodies on the ground, back toward the main street, and continuing on.
"Katrina was terrible on many levels, and the damage left behind is perhaps no more evident than here. The way it was left to rot as its alternative is still left unknown. It's been twelve years now, and this place sits here like an apocalyptic ghost town." He shook his head, and then nodded to an officer as they passed a large pirate ship ride.
"Of course, it's locked up and there are security guards stationed around it, but the curiosity gets the better of people, regardless of the threat of prosecution. People find a way in," he said and Mulder nodded.
"Life finds a way," he muttered under his breath and Scully elbowed him. He smiled and she shook her head.
"I've been out here to haul in some kids before," Harry said, ignoring or not hearing Mulder's comment. "Usually it's just a few, but tonight it was a lot more." He stopped walking in front of a large building with a sign that said it used to be a café.
They walked inside and found dark blankets over the windows, old tables with empty bottles of alcohol, red and green plastic cups littered the ground and faintly glowing plastic jewelry were everywhere in the room.
"What we've been told, is that they wanted to have one last party for the year, but nowhere "with a graveyard," as I suppose they felt that would be safer." Harry shook his head as he looked around. "How they failed to see that this is a graveyard, I don't understand." He chewed his gum, his jaw working hard, and then he sighed.
"Anyway, they set up a "silent rave." Blacked out the windows, as you can see, blocking out any light. Everyone wore wireless headphones to hear the music in here and none was heard outside."
"It's a well thought out plan, aside from the outcome," Scully said, and both men nodded.
"There were about twenty people in here and they had people posted around the grounds to watch for the security guards who patrol the area. When they knew it was clear, they would bring more people in and walk them to the party."
"Wow… Scully said, raising her eyebrows. People tend to think the younger generations are lazy, but I would have to disagree."
"Yeah. It was all meticulously planned," Harry agreed with a sigh. "Aside from the outcome as you said, Agent Scully." He nodded with his chin toward the door and they turned around, walking out and turning back to the entrance of the park.
"Here's where things get a little hazy," he said as they walked. "The people inside didn't hear anything, not at first, but the others posted around the park did. Everyone had been strictly instructed not to make extra noise, so they knew something was wrong. They had a text group and they all checked in, asking if anything was going on, and everyone answered except for one girl, Cera, so they knew it had to be by her post. They came toward her, two of them stopping at the café to warn the partygoers."
They had arrived at the crime scene, stopping a few feet away. Evidence was being gathered and photos taken.
"A lot of the people scattered, only a handful staying behind and helping those who were hurt."
"So, they didn't all die?" Mulder asked with a frown, looking at the three dead bodies on the ground, the statue of a woman standing in the grass above them.
"No, three of them were taken to the hospital."
"Three?" Mulder asked, looking at the three bodies on the ground again. "Six."
"Mulder?" Scully asked with a frown.
"There were six, three dead. Eight at the Thanksgiving party and four died. Ten at the Halloween party-"
"And five died," Scully said quietly and he nodded.
"It could be a pattern," he suggested. "We don't have much else to go on, maybe that's a starting point."
"It's as good as anything," Harry said with a shrug. They nodded and walked closer to the bodies. Scully took some gloves from an officer and squatted down, lifting a sheet from one of the bodies. She drew in a deep breath and Mulder came to squat inside her.
The boy in front of them was on his stomach, his head turned toward them, his eyes and mouth open. He was young, younger than the other people who had died at the other parties. Pulling the sheet farther back she touched his arm, looked at Mulder, and nodded.
"Can I get some gloves?" he asked an officer and he handed him a pair. He put them on and felt the arm of the boy finding it covered in goosebumps. He nodded and looked at Scully.
"None of the others have any injuries either?" he asked and the officer who handed him the gloves shook his head.
"No, sir. No visible injuries."
"Hmm," Mulder hummed, looking down again.
"The coroner is here," another officer said and they both stood up, pulling off their gloves and putting them in their pockets.
"Mulder, I think I'm gonna see if I can be of help with the autopsies. I want to see for myself what's going on with these deaths." She shook her head and he nodded in understanding.
"I think that's a good idea," he agreed and she sighed, moving aside as the coroner came through with a gurney.
"What are you gonna do?" she asked softly, her eyes on the sheet covering the young boy.
"I'm gonna go to the hospital and see if I can talk to any of the victims from tonight. I'm not sure if they will be able to speak to me, but I can see."
"Okay," she said, giving him a nod. "I'll talk to you later."
All Souls Hospital
7:00 a.m.
"Agent Mulder," Dr. Audrey sighed, his head back and hands deep in his lab coat pockets. "I am beyond my knowledge of what to do anymore. I… this makes twelve people now who have come into this hospital with the same symptoms." He stared at Mulder and he nodded. "Three this morning alone, though they weren't as bad as the first ones on Halloween, I'm still over my head here.
"I know," Mulder said with a nod.
"What is going on?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out, Dr. Audrey. That's why I'm here. Is there anyone I can speak to? Any of the victims from this morning?"
"Only one of them is possibly coherent enough and that's saying something. She was babbling about a statue come to life, that it had killed all those people. She screamed and cried until we sedated her."
"She's sedated?" Mulder asked with a sigh.
"Light sedation. Just enough to calm her down. She's sleeping right now, but we could see if she's awake." Mulder nodded and followed Dr. Audrey down the hall and around the corner. He looked at Mulder before opening the door and they both walked inside.
A woman was asleep in the bed, an Asian woman in her early twenties. She was not resting comfortably however, moaning and twitching, her hands grasping at the sheets and into the air. She looked as though she was sweating, but as they got closer, he could see the goosebumps on her arms.
He reached out, touching her hand gently and her eyes flew open. She pulled away and began to scream, her eyes not focusing on him or anything in the room as she sat up and tried to scramble away.
"It's okay. It's okay," Mulder said, his hand out and his voice low and soothing. He glanced at the doctor and he said Cera quietly. "Cera. It's okay. You're safe. You're at the hospital. You're okay. You're okay." He kept staring at her and she stopped screaming, but continued breathing hard, her eyes darting between them, the blanket gripped tightly in her hands.
"You're safe, Cera. You're safe. Can you hear me?" She nodded and started to shiver. "Could we get you a warm blanket?" She nodded again and the doctor left the room to get it for her.
Mulder stood staring at her as she laid back in the bed and begin to cry as she shivered. He waited until the doctor came back before he moved, not wanting to scare her. As the doctor covered her, Mulder grabbed a chair and sat down close to the bed.
"Are they… are they all dead?" she whispered, sobbing loudly into her hands.
"No, not all of them," Mulder said honestly.
"Who?" Mulder glanced at the doctor and he nodded.
"Keenan Wayans and Devin Smith are here at the hospital," Doctor Audrey said softly and she sobbed harder." They are both doing alright, but have been sedated to keep them calm and help them heal." She nodded, taking a deep breath as her tears began to subside.
"But… the others?" she asked, her head back as the doctor looked at Mulder and he shook his head. "They're…"
"Yes," Mulder said softly and she started crying again.
"It's all my fault. Oh, God." She cried harder, her body shaking and the doctor looked at Mulder, shaking his head, his expression hard. He looked back at Cera and crossed his arms with an angry sigh.
Mulder knew though that he simply needed to wait out the tears. He had been doing this long enough to know when people wanted to talk, but just needed a moment. Watching Cera, he waited for the right moment.
The door to her room opened suddenly and they turned, looking to see who entered. A woman who had to be Cera's mother, stood in the doorway. Seeing the state of her daughter, she hurried to the bed, glaring at the two of them as she did.
She began to speak quietly to Cera in Mandarin, holding her as she cried. Dr. Audrey looked Mulder's way again, looking uncomfortable.
Cera was speaking back in Mandarin and they could hear that she was calming down.
"What is wrong with my daughter?" her mother asked, her accent thick and her face set in a hard expression. "Is she in trouble? Why is she so cold?" She turned back to Cera, asking her and Mandarin but Cera shook her head.
"Mrs. Lee, I'm Dr. Audrey. If you would like to step outside, we could have a chat. Agent Mulder here has some questions to ask Cera." Cera spoke quietly to her mother in Mandarin and she nodded. She walked to the door and Dr. Audrey followed. As the door closed, Cera looked at Mulder and shook her head.
"It's my fault, whatever happened to anyone. I suggested we have the party out there. I planned it, just me, no one else."
"Cera…"
"No one else… I wanted… I knew it was wrong, but…" She started shaking and wrapped the blanket around herself, closing her eyes.
"Cera, that's not why I'm here," Mulder said softly, scooting his chair a little closer. "I'm here to find out what happened to you and to the others."
"I don't know if you'll even believe me,"she said softly, shaking her head, tears filling her eyes as she pulled the blanket tighter around her.
"I will," he said gently, holding her gaze and she nodded, the tears spilling down her cheeks.
Renee home
9:00 a.m.
"Another attack," Davis said quietly, shaking his head, his eyes closed. He sat on the couch, bundled up in long pants, a couple of long sleeved shirts, thick socks, and a beanie. His house was warm, but not as much as Arielle's, for which Mulder was thankful.
"Yes," Mulder said, looking around the room, seeing small figurines facing the wall, just like they had at Arielle's. He looked back at Davis, waiting for him to speak again.
His mother came into the room, bringing them cups of coffee and a plate of cookies. Mulder smiled his thanks and she smiled back, touching Davis on the shoulder.
"Thank you, Mom," he said quietly and she nodded before leaving the room. "She's been very understanding. I can't imagine how high the heating bill will be, but I'm freezing all the time, I have to have it on."
"Can I ask you something?" Mulder asked and Davis nodded. "Do you have goosebumps that won't go away?"
"How did you know that?" he asked, pulling back his sleeve and showing Mulder his arm.
"Whatever happened to you and the others, goosebumps and feeling cold seems to be a common thread." Davis nodded slowly, pushing his sleeve back down and crossing his arms.
"Who else have you seen?" he asked, his eyes downcast. "Arielle?"
"My partner and I saw Farrah and Tyler at the hospital and then we visited Arielle, yes." David raised his eyes and let out of breath with a nod.
"How is she?"
"Have you not spoken to her?" Mulder asked softly and Davis shook his head.
"I've known her since junior high. She was always bubbly and happy. I was quiet at that age, puny and small. I hit a growth spurt and started playing football and running track. In high school she was a cheerleader for a while and she was always fun to be around. I gave her rides home a lot after practice, but never made a move, too chickenshit." He looked at Mulder and he smiled, Davis shaking his head with a sigh.
"We went to separate colleges, though they are here in town and we would get together as a group on the weekends, but again I never made a move. Such a coward. So stupid to wait so long."
"I know how you feel," Mulder said absentmindedly, thinking about the years he and Scully had wasted and the recent years they had been apart.
Davis looked at him in surprise and then nodded his head with a smile. Taking a deep breath, he began to tell Mulder about the Halloween party, his story similar to Arielle's.
"When we were out calling for Zach, it was fun and the fact that Ariellele was with me, well… I finally had taken a chance and I felt happy. The pot we smoked may have helped with that, too," he said with a short laugh. "But then… it was heavy, and the air felt thick, like… walking through deep snow. It felt hard to get through even though there was nothing there and then we heard someone saying Arielle's name and that was the first time I felt cold and got the goosebumps." He stared at the floor and sighed deeply, shaking his head.
"I've never felt so scared, so sure I was going to die. The screaming… it was… I hear it constantly, I dream about it…" He took a deep breath and looked up at Mulder. "When it was quiet, all I could do was squeeze Arielle's hand to let her know we were okay… that we were alive." Mulder nodded, knowing that feeling all too well, needing to give and receive that certainty through touch that they had survived another battle.
"After I came home, I slept a lot, drifting in and out of consciousness, the pills I was given helping me to find some peace. A week had gone by, then two, and I hadn't spoken to anyone, especially Arielle. Then, three weeks passed and I turned off my cell phone, not wanting to talk to anyone. I stayed in bed, my room warm while I shook from the cold. My mom was the only one who could reach me and I know I was horrible to her at times."
"She understands," Mulder said quietly and Davis shook his head. "Mothers are like superheroes in that regard. They put up with a lot of shit and still stay around."
"Yeah," Davis agreed quietly with a hint of a smile.
"Why don't you turn your phone back on? Give Arielle a call today?" Mulder asked and Davis scoffed.
"No, I can't do that."
"Maybe visit her instead of-"
"No!" Davis stood up and walked over to a table, his back to Mulder as he fidgeted with a sheep statue, moving it to a higher shelf, facing it away from him.
"I can't talk to her. And I can't leave. I… I haven't left the house since I came home from the hospital. I'm… I'm safe here. I know that might sound crazy, but it's how I feel."
"It's understandable," Mulder said and Davis nodded, turning around and, his eyes on the floor and his hands in his pockets.
"I can't talk to Arielle, as much as I may want to. I… I couldn't keep her safe when we were in the worst danger." He looked up at Mulder and shook his head. "I couldn't keep her safe. How could I call her up after all this time, like life is normal and everything is going to be just fine?"
Mulder stared back at him, no answer forthcoming.
Durand home
11:00 a.m.
"I'm so sorry, Agent Mulder," Michelle, Arielle's mother said, as she handed him a glass of ice water. "When we got a call that there had been another attack, Arielle took a sleeping pill. She was crying too hard and couldn't cope with the news."
"I understand," he said, taking a drink of his water.
"I hope the outdoor porch is more comfortable for you. I know the house can be… very warm." she said in an apologetic tone and he smiled with a shake of his head.
"This is more than fine, thank you." She sighed, nodding as she looked down at the table.
"Agent Mulder, you're going to figure out how to stop this right? You're going to help Arielle and the others?"
"I'm trying, Mrs. Durand. We're trying."
"Michelle, please," she said, looking up at him with a sad smile and then she sighed. "Did you know that Zara died today?"
"What?"
"Her mother called about an hour ago and told me. I don't know how I'll tell Arielle when she wakes up." She shook her head, folding and unfolding her hands on top of the table.
"How did she die?"
"Her mother said she started seizing and then went still and… just stopped breathing."
"I'm so sorry to hear that," he said, wondering what that could mean for the others in the hospital.
"Yeah," Michelle whispered, shaking her head, her face worried. "The girls all knew each other since childhood. If anything happens to Farrah… I don't know what Arielle will do, those two are very close."
"I wish I could tell you that everything would be fine, but I… I don't know right now."
"I know. And I know that Sheriff Lavonne and the other officers are doing all they can, but… I worry every day and now with Zara…" She shook her head and picked up a napkin to dab at her eyes.
"Michelle, have you lived here long?" She looked up, surprised by his sudden change in topic.
"My whole life," she answered, holding the napkin in her hand.
"Have you ever heard or known about… anything like this happening before?"
"No… nothing. Not in my lifetime, anyway. I mean there are people who act a fool and die in a graveyard, but that's neither here nor there."
"Right," Mulder said with a smile. "We do act foolish in our youth."
"Hmm," Michelle hummed, her eyebrow raised as she gave him a knowing look and he laughed softly.
"Has your family always lived here?"
"A lot of my family were slaves here, Agent Mulder," she said quietly. "Not on the property where the second group of kids were attacked, but around that area."
"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head and sighing.
"Wasn't anything you did."
"No, but I'm sorry just the same." She nodded and he thought of something she may know more about. "You say not the Boudreaux place, but close by… did you ever hear anything from any family members about Mary Bourdreaux?"
"The girl who killed herself?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Mary Boudreaux? Yeah, she killed herself. In… oh, hang on a minute." She stood up from the table and went into the house. He drank the rest of his water, wondering what she was going to bring out and show him.
"Here we go." She smiled as she carried a medium sized box out and set it on a chair. "My grandmother was very interested in finding out about our past, especially as she got older. She marched and went to protests, instilled in us girls the importance of voting and making our voices heard. She was a hardcore feminist and my grandfather was right there beside her, cheering her on. He always introduced himself as Corinne's husband and she loved it." She smiled as she dug through the box, found what she was looking for, and set it on the table. Sitting down, she looked through the book until she found the page she wanted and nodded her head.
"Now, this is a story of a story. It was told by the slaves who worked for the Boudreaux family, and then to their families throughout the years. But, from what my grandmother found out and tried her best to cross reference, while not completely factual… it's fairly close and it's one of the ones I remember most." She pushed the book to Mulder and he nodded.
Elinor and Mary
"Elinor?" he asked, looking up at Michelle in surprise as he read the title. "Elinor Cormier?"
"Elinor Dubois was her maiden name. I always liked it, so I remembered it. But yes, she did marry James Cormier. She and Mary were cousins." His eyes widened and she nodded with a slight frown, her mind not making the connections he was beginning to create. He looked down at the book and started to read the story of Elinor and Mary.
Elinor and Mary were cousins, closer than some sisters, though they were complete opposites in appearance. Elinor was petite, fair haired, sweet and kind. Mary was dark, tall, and awkward.
As they grew, Mary began to see Elinor as her rival. She was in love with James, but he loved Elinor. The day Elinor and James became engaged, Mary was enraged and no longer spoke to Elinor. She stayed in her room, would not see anyone and became very rude to anyone who did speak to her, her anger never far from the surface.
But on the day of Elinor's wedding, Mary came out of her room, in a new dress, her hair done up elegantly, and a smile on her face. She arrived at the wedding and begged Elinor to forgive her, saying she had made a horrible mistake. Elinor, being the kind hearted person she was, forgave her and welcomed her to the wedding party.
Mary was happy and light, dancing with everyone, eating, and laughing. But later when the news came of the tragedy that unfolded, no one could remember if they had seen her later in the evening. She was not there when the couple said goodbye and goodnight, and left in their carriage.
Before they were halfway to their new home, Elinor was struggling to breathe. The carriage had pulled to the side of the road, the driver helping James to remove Elinor from the carriage, where she died in James's arms, gasping for breath.
It could never be proven, but people suspected Mary of poisoning her cousin or some other dark kind of magic. She swore up-and-down she had done nothing, crying and begging to anyone who would listen. Her father was a powerful and rich man. He denied any wrongdoing by his daughter and kept her from jail and possibly even death.
After Elinor died, Mary mourned for her, but she also seemed happier and lighter, attracting the attention of men, but she only wanted James.
He did not want her, however, and brushed her aside in his grief and she did not take that well. Her mother arranged parties and tried to entice her to find someone else, but she only wanted James.
Mary began visiting Elinor's grave, who was buried at her beloved church near her family's home. She often found James there, mourning for the wife he would never have.
Mary bullied him, pestering him to stop thinking of the dead, and concentrate on the living. He became angry at her words and he pushed her away from him. She slipped and fell, scraping her head on a headstone. Seeing what he had done, he apologized profusely, as he fell to his knees, begging for her forgiveness.
Touching her hand to her wound, she smiled maliciously. She told him the only way she would forgive him was if he married her, loved her, and never spoke of Elinor again. She showed him her wound, telling him what her father would say, what he would think and James nodded, standing to his feet. He looked at Elinor's headstone once more and Mary grabbed his arm, pulling him away.
One month later, a wedding was planned, and Mary was happy that James was quiet and withdrawn.
The day of the wedding dawned and Mary was ready to be married to the man she had always pined for.
As the morning progressed, a man rode up on a horse with a letter for her father. As he read it, he became enraged, stomping into his office, and yelling that the wedding would not be happening.
Mary followed him and demanded to know what he thought he was doing, thwarting her happiness that way. He showed her the letter, telling her James had killed himself, not wanting to go through with marrying her.
He had written down the reasons why in the letter her father had just read. She had brought shame upon their family. She has killed James with her selfishness and greed. And Elinor. He had always suspected she had done something and now he knew for certain. He would no longer protect her and she would receive the punishment she deserved.
She raged, pushing him, knocking him over and causing him to hit his head, knocking him out cold. She grabbed the letter from his hand and threw it into the fire. Bursting out of the room she screamed as she gathered her dress and ran up the stairs to her bedroom. She threw open her doors and jumped from her balcony, her wedding dress billowing behind her as she crashed to the ground, dying instantly.
Her mother insisted she be buried on the family land, though her father felt she should not. To spite Mary, and despite her mother's pleading, he insisted she be buried in her wedding dress- so for all eternity her soul would be unsettled, searching for the love she would never receive.
"Wow," Mulder said, shaking his head, as he closed the book. "That's… that's incredibly dark. Imagine treating your child that way."
"Hmm," Michelle said, taking the book back, and running a hand across the top. "I'd go one step further and say they helped to create that in her, spoiling her and giving her everything she ever wanted. No consequences leads to no regard for others or the world around you."
"True. True," Mulder agreed with a sigh.
"Not what you expected when you came for a visit, huh?" Michelle asked, letting out a small laugh.
"Not exactly, but I'm glad to know more about them. I saw their names in the graveyards and I was curious about them."
"Well, remember to take some of that story with a grain of salt, Agent Mulder. While Mary Boudreaux and Elinor Dubois were real people, the details in that story won't be ones you may find within any records information. Stories get told and details change as time passes. This story may be complete fabrication, or it may be the god's honest truth." She smiled with a shrug and he nodded.
Police Station
4:30 p.m.
Details change as time passes…
Mulder sat staring at the computer screen, his bottom lip between his fingers as he thought of Michelle's words.
Coming back to the station, he had attempted to find out information about Elinor and Mary, but was told the records department for that far back was in a different location.
And it was closed on Sundays.
Determined to find out anything he could, he searched online, but found nothing aside from old newspaper articles announcing the untimely deaths of all three people. Nothing nefarious seemed to have taken place and yet he felt something was off, something he was not seeing…
"Hey," Scully said, touching his shoulder and he jumped. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."
"I don't get scared, remember?" he asked as he shook his head and let out a breath. She smiled slightly as she sat in the chair in front of him with a sigh. She looked exhausted.
"How was your day?" she asked, crossing her arms and sighing again.
"Not as long as yours by the look of it," he answered with a smile. "You okay?"
"Hmm," she hummed with a nod, closing her eyes. "Just tired." She opened her eyes and stared at him. "You ready to go?"
"Yeah. Have you eaten?" He stood up and grabbed his suit jacket, unrolling his sleeves before he slipped it on.
"I think I had a… muffin? Around 9:30?" she said, as she stood up with a sigh.
"That's what I thought. Let's get something to eat." He placed his hand on the small of her back and they walked out of the station.
"Thank you," he said to the bartender and took the glasses to the table, sitting down and sliding Scully's to her.
"What's this?" she asked, reaching for the glass.
"Whiskey."
"Perfect," she sighed, as she took a large drink, setting the glass down and making a face as she let out a deep breath.
"Good?" he asked with a smile.
"Yup," she nearly growled, letting out another breath. He laughed and she shook her head, taking another drink.
He took a drink and tried not to act as uncool as he felt, never really enjoying straight hard alcohol. As it burned his throat, he let out a breath and moaned.
Definitely uncool.
"Smooth," Scully said with a smile and he shook his head, setting his glass down, and drawing in a deep breath.
"I know."
"Could I get y'all anything to eat?" a waitress asked and they ordered some sandwiches and fries.
As she walked away, Mulder looked around, enjoying the quiet atmosphere of the place, a band playing quietly beside a small empty dance floor, people more interested in food at the moment.
"So," Scully said, and he turned to look at her. Her glass was nearly empty as she tipped it back and spun it slowly, her eyes on the liquid moving around inside.
"So…"
"What did you find out today? Any revelations?" She looked up at him, her eyes sad and troubled.
"Uh… I'm still struggling to find a connection. There's something I'm not seeing yet, and I don't know what it is." She nodded and looked back down at her drink.
"How about you?" She shook her head, setting her drink down, her index finger running around the rim.
"I don't know, Mulder, I really don't." She sighed and crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. "We're waiting on lab results but… I'm at a loss for what could have killed those kids, I truly am." She shook her head again and looked at him. "There were no signs of trauma, no injuries, no… no nothing, Mulder. I don't understand it."
"It was exactly like the other deaths?"
"Yes," she said and he nodded.
"One of the women brought to the hospital, Cera, she also was screaming about a statue. About an angel."
"Mulder…"
"I didn't mention it to her. She said she saw the statue by the group "come to life" and kill those kids."
"Mulder… please."
"Scully-"
"No, Mulder. Not tonight, okay? Just… for tonight, for now, could we please just not discuss the improbability of a stone statue coming to life and killing people? Please?" She shook her head, looking at him with those same sad eyes, and he knew there was more to her request than the thought of a serial killer statue.
"Okay," he agreed quietly. "Okay, Scully."
"Thank you." She looked back down at her drink, beginning to swirl the cup again, the amber color almost hypnotic.
He waited, knowing she had more on her mind and would get to it at her own pace. Lifting her glass, she drank down the last swallow and set the glass back down with a heavy sigh, her eyes looking down at the table.
"The boy, the one we examined this morning," she said softly, requiring him to lean in closer to hear over the laughter from the table close to theirs. "He was only seventeen." With a deep intake of breath, he leaned back and understood now why she was acting withdrawn.
Seventeen. Like William would be soon.
He desperately wanted to reach out and touch her, tell her it would be okay, say something, but on this subject, he always found himself lacking and unable to express himself properly. Leaning forward again, he had his hand out when the waitress returned and the moment was shattered.
Scully asked for another whiskey and the waitress walked away to do her bidding. Scully did not look at Mulder, but picked up a fry and took a small bite. Another whiskey was set down and she murmured her thanks.
Sitting in silence, he watched her push food around her plate, never really eating anything, but sipping her whiskey slowly.
Hearing the band beginning to play a slow song, he wiped his mouth and stood up, leaving the napkin beside his own rather full plate.
"Come on," he said softly, putting out his left hand, waiting for her to take it.
"Mulder," she said, shaking her head and looking around.
"Come on," he tried again and she shook her head again. "Please." Hearing her own plea said back to her seemed to do the trick. She sighed and took his hand as she stood to her feet.
He led her to the dance floor, past the other couples, and to a quieter spot. Not letting her have a second to think and change her mind, he pulled her to him, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her hand to his chest.
She felt rigid in his arms at first, but as he rocked them slowly, she began to relax into his embrace, her arm around his waist and holding on tightly. She sighed, holding onto his hand, as she rested her head on his shoulder.
"It wasn't him, Scully," he whispered, his mouth close to her ear. She stilled, but he kept speaking, still rocking them slowly. "I know it's hard to not see him in those circumstances, I understand. But it wasn't… it's not him."
"I know, Mulder. I just…" She stopped and drew in a sobbing breath as her tears began to fall. He nodded against her head and comforted her in one of the ways he knew had always worked.
He thought of times in their home when he would turn on some music, pulling her close and dancing around the room, both of them laughing. Then there were times, when a dance led to cleansing tears, words spoken with more ease while held in an embrace, the face hidden, giving a person a chance to decide to lie or really speak their truth.
"I know how easily it is to see him in others," he whispered and she drew in a deep breath.
"He shouldn't even have been there, his mother told us as she cried," she said, shaking her head. "His cousin was going and brought him along and now…" He closed his eyes and held her closer, feeling her crying softly against him.
The band finished the song and everyone cheered except for them as they continued to sway slowly.
"You wanna get outta here?" he asked, his mouth pressed directly to her ear. She nodded and he squeezed her hand.
They walked back to the table, where he dropped down some cash and once more placed his hand on her back and walked beside her outside of the building.
The ride and walk from the car was quiet. He watched her as she walked ahead of him, noting the slump of her shoulders and the slowness in her steps, and he sighed quietly. He shook his head, wishing the night had gone differently.
They stepped into the brightly lit courtyard of the hotel and he sighed again, as he began to head to his room.
"Goodnight, Scully," he said quietly, turning to her with a soft smile.
She stared at him, saying nothing verbally, but her eyes seemed to be shouting at him. She shook her head, her mouth moving but no words coming out, as she reached hesitantly for his hand.
Taking it, she tugged gently, silently asking him to come to her room. He opened his mouth to protest, or at least ask if that was the best decision at the moment, when the grip on his hand slackened slightly, and he once again saw the sadness in her eyes.
Squeezing her hand tighter, not letting her let him go, he nodded and she exhaled, clutching onto his hand. Opening her door, they both stepped inside, staring at one another as the door closed softly behind them.
She shifted beside him, humming softly in her sleep, her chin resting against his shoulder as he closed his eyes and sighed.
She shifted again, her bare leg running across his as she breathed his name and he smiled, kissing the top of her head, as he followed her into slumber.
Tonight, they had forgotten about the past, the pain, and questions about the future.
But fingertips could not so easily forget. Nor could lips, tongues, or bodies.
They knew the dance.
And they had not forgotten one step.