Tandem
Chapter 7
Two weeks after the session from hell…
Jack McCoy had no clear memory of what had happened there; only that he had broken Emil Skoda's nose, and come very close to killing Adam Schiff…
He didn't remember throwing the hospital bed.
Thank God for Detective John Munch…
McCoy had been discharged from Bellevue, was back in his own apartment, with two filled prescriptions; one for the PTSD, the other for the persistent nightmares. Skoda hadn't cleared him to go back to work yet, so there was little for him to do.
He couldn't even visit his favorite watering-holes anymore; not with the medications he was now forced to take.
Sure…he could've stopped taking the meds. But McCoy didn't want to experience another psychotic break. The first time he had woken up in restraints was enough for him.
Besides, those nightmares scared the living shit out of him.
So, what was there left for an unemployed lawyer to do?
McCoy had taken to tramping all over Manhattan, visiting cultural sites, museums, and libraries.
The flyer in the small museum caught his attention.
They are here. They wish to help us…heal us…
There was a photo of a woman on the flyer. She had gentle eyes, and McCoy was caught by the image.
He had seen her before…somewhere…
Her name was on the flyer.
Cassandra Spender…
I've met her…talked to her…
He couldn't remember where.
She was going to be here, this afternoon, holding a seminar on…
Alien Visitors…
Part of Jack McCoy wanted to flee, as quickly as possible.
But Cassandra was going to be there, and…he knew her.
If only I could remember where…
So, Jack McCoy stayed, waiting for Cassandra Spender to arrive.
When she arrived, in a wheelchair, surrounded by a cadre of aides, a bodyguard pushing her chair, Jack McCoy, seeing her, was struck anew by the realization that he knew her. But there were too many people with her. He knew he wouldn't even be allowed to approach her.
That was when Cassandra turned her head, and their eyes met.
"Jack!" the wheelchair stopped at her gesture, her beautiful smile lighting her eyes; and Jack felt the shock of it clear down to his toes.
She knows me too…
A snippet of memory filled his mind.
Her hand cups his jaw as she looks into his eyes.
"Did they hurt you?" she asks…
Jack McCoy was shaking, couldn't stop it.
"Jack…" Cassandra held out her hands to him. He walked up, knelt before her, and felt her arms go around him, holding him tight.
A feeling akin to grief welled up within him. He laid his head on her shoulder, tears burning the back of his throat.
"He's a dear friend of mine," she spoke over his head, hand caressing his back. "Can he come with us?"
The bodyguard, balding, with a mustache, looked McCoy over. He nodded slowly, and Cassandra smiled.
McCoy, still kneeling, felt her cup his face in her hands, as she tenderly kissed the tears away.
"Come with us, Jack."
"Where are we going?"
"First, there's the seminar," she told him. "Then, we are going to meet…them. They are going to come down to join with us."
"Them?"
Chills ran down McCoy's spine.
"Don't be afraid, Jack," Cassandra's hand squeezed his. "They can help you."
"Help me..?" McCoy shivered.
If only someone could…
"You're Jack McCoy, right?" the bodyguard took out his headphone, calling…the ones really in charge. Then he turned back, smiling.
"Welcome to the gang, Mr. McCoy. "You're welcome to stay with us as long as you wish."
Is this the help I need?
"Where will you be going?" he asked.
"We…" Cassandra squeezed his hand again. "You'll be with us too…won't you?"
"Me..?" McCoy stood there; and sometimes, living…choosing…required a simple act of faith.
McCoy sighed, pain, relief, and…grief…swept through him.
"Yeah…" McCoy nodded shakily. "I'll go with you."
Cassandra smiled. It warmed him to see that smile.
"We'll go to meet them," she said. "On Skyland Mountain."
Agent Dana Scully was waiting for Cassandra Spender to arrive. She had been feeling…odd…these last few weeks, memories of Duane Barry, and Skyland Mountain, dominating her thoughts.
Cassandra had proven to be a friend, albeit one who believed in Alien Visitors, perhaps even more strongly than Fox Mulder.
But, here she was, in her wheelchair, accompanied by her usual cadre, with one extra…
A man Scully recognized.
Tall, lean-almost thin, in fact-with a shock of dark hair touched by gray, and that distinctive hawk profile…
"Jack McCoy…" Scully walked up to him, worried over the sight. He had lost weight, pounds he really couldn't afford to lose, and there was this…distracted…air to him.
"Agent Scully…" the man smiled. "What brings you here?"
"Answers," Scully felt like she was channeling Fox Mulder. "I want the truth."
"Me too," McCoy sighed. "But I don't even know which questions to ask."
"I know the feeling," Scully laid a hand on the attorney's shoulder.
"I feel like I'm…cutting class," she almost laughed. "Mulder's going to be pissed. As if he's never done that to me before…"
"So Mulder's…cut class…before?"
"All the fucking time," Scully nodded. "So he's got no grounds for complaint."
Especially after all the times I had to pull his chestnuts out of the fire…
"How about you?" she asked the lawyer. "Ever cut class before?"
"No," McCoy slowly shook his head. "I loved my job too much. But these last few months…"
Head bowed, as if on the edge of making a painful admission…
"I had a breakdown, almost a month ago," he lifted his head. "They won't let me go back to work yet, and I…I don't really know what to do now."
1 Hogan Place
Why does Adam Schiff want to see me?
Detective Mike Logan knocked on Schiff's office door.
"Come in."
"What's up, Counselor?" Logan entered the office.
"Jack McCoy's gone missing again," fear in Adam Schiff's eyes. "He was last seen in the company of ufologist Cassandra Spender."
Mike Logan had heard all of the rumors concerning Jack McCoy; the breakdown, the disastrous regression session, and didn't know what to think of it all. The very idea of McCoy having a breakdown in the first place…
Logan would never have believed that at all, if he had not seen Dr. Skoda's broken nose…
"Any idea where McCoy may have gone?" he asked Schiff. "This doesn't really sound like an abduction. Maybe he…just took off to get away for a bit?"
"He left his medication at home," Schiff snapped.
"Besides," another voice spoke up. "Jack McCoy and Cassandra Spender were both seen later in the afternoon, with Dana Scully, and now, all three are missing."
Mike Logan turned to see Agent Fox Mulder.
Great…Spooky Mulder himself…
Adam Schiff looked at the two men.
"Since all three individuals are missing," he said. "It behooves us to work together for the duration, until all of our missing people are found. Is that clear, Detective Logan?"
"Yeah…" Logan sighed. "Like crystal."
Skyland Mountain
The SUV had stopped at the appointed destination. Hundreds of people were already there, waiting. Jack McCoy got out of the SUV, followed by Dana Scully. Cassandra Spender was next, wheelchair lowered from the back of the SUV. She smiled as she waved to McCoy. He waved back; fear nagging at him.
What if she's right? What if Aliens are real? What could they possibly want from us?
He sighed, looked at the wreckage his life had become.
Could they help me?
"Jack," Cassandra waved him over. "Come, walk with me."
He jogged over, felt her take his hand.
"I know you're scared, Jack," she spoke reassuringly. "When they come, you'll be healed. You won't have to be afraid anymore."
"I'm not…" the automatic denial died unsaid.
Not afraid…
These last few months, I've been nothing but afraid…
Early morning, heading for Skyland Mountain…
Agent Mulder was driving, Detective Logan riding shotgun. Mulder had felt it was his duty to fill Logan in on the alien perils they might be facing; judging by Logan's expression, the Manhattan detective was bored stiff.
"Mulder," the man lifted a hand. "Until I actually meet one of those, I'm not gonna believe in them, so, please can it! Only reason I'm here is to find Jack McCoy and bring him back home."
Mulder sighed, but kept silent for the rest of the trip. It was Logan who broke the silence, just about ten minutes away from Skyland Mountain.
"What's with all the helicopters?" Logan actually rolled the window down to get a better look. "I'm counting at least three right now."
Mulder peered up through the windshield.
Yes…
Lots of helicopters; some news copters, and some that had a distinct military look.
A feeling of…dread…stole over him.
"Something's happened," he floored the accelerator.
Detective Mike Logan got out of the car, vaguely aware of Agent Mulder doing the same.
Logan's stomach churned.
Bodies…all over the place…some charred to a crisp…others not…
Oh…god…
"Scully!" Mulder ran up to where a group of EMTS were working on a victim. A victim with red hair.
So…
Agent Dana Scully, at least, was alive…
Logan looked around. The sight was overwhelming; surrounded by dead bodies, debris, huge sheets of half-melted metal or plastic scattered everywhere, and the bodies…
He couldn't even tell if those charred bodies were male or female.
Where are you, Jack?
In the half-hearted hope that McCoy might have remembered to bring his cell-phone, Logan dialed the man's cell phone number. Then, he listened…
Nothing from the neat rows of dead bodies, and Logan sighed in relief. Then, he heard the faint ring of a cell phone.
Where?
He turned around in a circle, ears straining to locate the sound.
A large sheet of metal, and a hand, just barely visible underneath…
"Hey!" he ran over. "Got a body here! Help!"
EMTS converged on the scene, hands wresting that heavy metal sheet up, straining to keep it up as Logan grabbed that hand and dragged the body out.
Jack McCoy…
Battered, bruised, and bloody.
But alive and breathing.
McCoy's body twitched feebly as Logan knelt by his side, EMT on the other side, running hands gently over his chest, checking for broken bones. His eyes were half open, but there was no real awareness in them.
"He's concussed," the EMT flashed a penlight in McCoy's eyes, checking the pupils in his eyes.
Logan bent over McCoy, not sure if he heard or not.
"Jack," he said. "We're taking you to the hospital. You're gonna be fine…"
Floating…warm and peaceful here, Mike Logan's voice a counterpoint…
Yeah, Adam…he's concussed…cuts and bruises all over. The docs here say he's gonna be fine. I'll bring him home when they get around to releasing him; but that might take some time. Over a hundred people are dead, and he and Agent Scully are the only two survivors. No Adam…he's not a suspect. But he could be a witness, and they'll probably want to question him…
Jack McCoy lost the rest of it as he fell back down into the darkness…
Sometime later…
He opened his eyes; a face looking down at him, strong-boned, with dark hair.
"Detective Logan?" his voice came out a dusty croak.
"Finally…you're awake…" Logan was his usual grumbly self. "How are you feeling?"
"I…don't know…"
He was missing something. He knew that much, at least.
Cassandra…
He moved to sit up, but Logan moved first, hands on his shoulders, easing him back down.
"Where is Cassandra?" he asked.
"They took her," another voice jolted him, and Mike Logan too. Agent Fox Mulder had entered the room.
"You know what I'm talking about," Mulder added.
"No…I don't." McCoy tried to order his memories.
I was walking by her side, holding her hand. Then…
Then, he woke up here…
"I don't know what happened."
"You were there, Mr. McCoy," Mulder stood over him.
"I don't remember…" McCoy whispered, trembling, the shaking deep in his bones.
"That's…it, Mulder," Mike Logan to the rescue. "It may have escaped your notice, but Jack McCoy isn't exactly working on all thrusters right now; and I'm not gonna let you bully him. Leave Jack McCoy alone."
Mulder stood there, staring at Logan, Logan staring back at Mulder, the challenge thick in the air between them. Then, Mulder sighed, and shook his head. He turned and left, without a word; and McCoy released the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.
"Get some sleep, Jack," Logan took a seat next to him.
"I thought I was dreaming," McCoy put a hand out, caught Logan's wrist. "Did I hear you tell Adam there were over one hundred dead?"
Logan nodded.
"You and Agent Scully are the only two survivors."
"Cassandra?" dread icing his veins.
"They didn't find her, Jack," the detective sighed. "The bodies have mostly been identified, and she's not there."
"Am I a suspect?"
McCoy didn't like Logan's sigh.
"Not exactly. But, like I've said, you and Scully are the only survivors. Mulder's been demanding that both of you get regressed so-"
"No!" McCoy sat up again. "Absolutely not! I won't put myself through that again! Not ever again!"
"Relax, Jack" Logan's hand on his shoulder. "I'm not gonna let Mulder mess with your marbles. If he wants it that much, he can unscrew Scully's marbles. You are going home, back to Manhattan, so Adam can chew you out."
McCoy lay back, looking up at the ceiling.
"He must be pissed off at me…" he sighed.
"You think?" Logan chuckled. "You up and leave without telling anyone, you forget to bring your medication with you, and you just…go off with these…new friends. What, in all of this, is there for Adam to be pissed off at you about?"
McCoy sighed.
"He's angry…"
"Livid," Logan assured him. "But he'll cool down once he knows you're okay. For some odd reason, he cares about you. The docs say you'll be travel-ready by tomorrow. We'll leave for Manhattan then."
"I'm sorry," McCoy looked up at Logan. "These days, I only seem to make bad choices."
"Don't sweat it, buddy. You've got friends. Get some sleep."
That was when McCoy knew the apocalypse was nigh…
Detective Mike Logan, pulling the blankets up to his shoulders, Mike Logan tucking him in for the night.
Yep…
The universe is irretrievably fucked…