Skinner's Apartment. Crystal city.
Friday
25th Dec. 11.02PM
Walter Skinner kicked his shoes off and crossed his ankles upon the coffee table. With the remote in one hand and a turkey sandwich in the other he settled in to watch a wealth of Christmas movies.
The knock on his door was unexpected. So much so that he ignored it. But it rang out from the hall again. Two sharp short knocks. Glancing at the clock he saw it was just past eleven. His curiosity got the better of him and he slowly ambled over to the door, keeping one eye on the starting credits of some John Wayne movie. Taking a large bite out of his sandwich he pulled the door open, and nearly choked.
"Skinman!"
"What the hell…" He managed to swallow the bite whole and it lodged uncomfortably half way down his throat. Backing away from the door he watched as if in a trance as Mulder and Scully walked in. Mulder glanced around the apartment and claimed the seat by the open fire. Scully hung back, watching as Skinner rounded the couch and sat down with a heavy sigh. "Mulder?"
"In the flesh!" he said smiling; his hands open wide, palms facing out.
"What are you doing here?" Skinner took a long drink from the glass of beer he had by the couch to try and get rid of the lump of food in his throat.
"I flew in yesterday." Mulder looked over to Scully who was watching him intently. "It's a long story."
"This is a story I have time for."
"I'm going to make some coffee." Scully said, slipped her jacket onto the back of a chair and walked towards the kitchen. "Anyone else want a drink?"
"I'll have a beer Scully if you are buying."
Skinner, still stunned stared at Mulder as if he was a ghost, and in many ways, Skinner realized he was.
"I never thought you'd come back."
"Neither did I."
"What changed your mind?"
Mulder looking towards the door Scully had just walked through. "Scully." At Skinner's confused look he smiled and sat forward. "I've been working in Seattle for the better part of the last four years. As a detective with the city PD."
"Dana just got back from Seattle!" Skinner blurted out as if this was new information for everyone.
"I know."
As the hours passed, the pieces slowly started to fall into place and Mulder told his story. Leaving out the nights of pain and loneliness, he explained how he managed to end up working in Seattle and how he'd met Scully again.
"That's amazing." Skinner finished off his drink and set the bottle onto the table. "It's like a made for TV movie."
Mulder laughed loudly at Skinner's comment but realized it made so much sense. "I guess we're just a couple of oil barons away from prime time."
Skinner had noticed how quiet Scully was during the whole evening but he refrained from pointing it out. He guessed of course how hard this probably was for her, feeling his own confusion. "So what are you going to do?"
"I'll start looking for an apartment tomorrow."
"And a job?" Skinner prompted.
"No plans to get bogged down by the man yet." Mulder took a sip of his drink, avoiding all the eyes that watched him so intently, but he didn't miss the look that passed between them.
"You know you'd get back into the bureau." Skinner began. "I'm sure you'd pass the re-qualification exams-"
"I don't think that will be an option for me. Maybe I'll stay in the private sector. It's not really a priority at the moment."
The room filled with an uneasy silence. Eyes darted and feet shuffled, everyone suddenly uncomfortable. Mulder wanted to stand up and scream. Shout to the heavens for release. As if he could read their minds and knew what they were thinking, knew what he felt and knew how deeply his pain went. He wrung his hands together over and over, his palms sweaty and slick.
"Well this certainly is a Christmas surprise," Skinner said trying to break the heavy tension that suddenly overwhelmed the room.
"Sorry for keeping you so late. Maybe we had better go." Scully watched Mulder's white knuckled hands writhe before him as she stood.
"Not at all. I'm glad you came." He stood up before Mulder who stood with him, his eyes transfixed on something no one else could see. Unsure whether he should hug him or just shake his hand, Skinner waited for Mulder to move and when he did he found himself engulfed in a friendly hug. Smiling Mulder stepped back and glanced at his old boss, a tinge of red coloring his cheeks.
"Nice to see you again."
"You too Mulder. Keep in touch."
Washington Park
Monday
27th Dec 11.50PM
Moonlight shattered onto the ground through the canopy of trees. The brush under foot was thick and heavy and it clung to his legs cutting and scraping his skin as he stumbled on. He held his arm across his waist tightly, holding his stomach, as the cramps got worse. His fingers were numb from the lack of blood as it poured from the open wounds on his wrists. He watched in revulsion as his arms, covered with Maori tattoo designs, turned crimson red, the patterns disappearing as his skin burned in pain and his blood pumped out.
"One foot before the other, one step at a time," he muttered softly to himself as he lurched forward, further into the darkness. The sounds of the city faded and were replaced by the living forest that surrounded him. Wind rustled the trees noisily as the nocturnal animals looked on curiously at their intruder.
"C'mon Jonathan, just a little further." A wave of pain washed over him, making him break out into a cold sweat. His skin tingled in anticipation as he tried to ignore the agony and stumbled on.
His blood was smeared across his stomach where his hands tried desperately to cling to his torso, but managed only to scrape it. Then finally he saw it. As the trees opened out onto a pebbled beach, he watched in awe at the sight of the moonlight dancing of the small waves that caressed the shore. His steps quickened as he hurried across the pebbles, his footing loose and erratic on the wet stones. When he fell forward he was too slow to catch himself and ended up smashing his face on the rocks, but it did nothing to dissuade his movements. In one quick roll he lurched forward, back onto his feet and marched into the icy water.
The initial shock of freezing water lapping his naked body was pushed aside as he waded in further, submerging his whole body up to his chin. His eyes fixed on the moon as he tried to stand as still as he could, but the current pushed heavily against his quickly numbing legs.
"Heal me, O LORD," he shouted to the sky. "And I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved: for thou art my praise."
Jonathan lifted his arms up to the sky, raising his hands heavenwards and smiled at the burning itch that enveloped the wounds on his wrist. He watched in wonder, as the flesh seemed to ripple and squirm across his skin, melding together and sealing his wounds. The blood washed away in the moonlight taking all the tattoos with it, leaving only the sallow tint of his natural coloring.
Jonathan backed out of the water and dropped heavily onto the pebbled beach. His belly shook with mirth at his own lucky escape. Looking down at his arms once again he laughed out loud, the gashes moved and shimmered in the moonlight until they finally disappeared. He sat bolt right up, and bellowed at the moon at the top of his lungs, "O LORD my God, I will give thanks unto thee forever."
The sky above him swirled in a coil of inky dawn colors before darkening and flickering back to his candle lit bedroom. His eyes adjusted to the dimness and he blinked away the tears. The pain was gone, his body felt heavy and weary. Then as the shadow stepped out of the corner he turned his head towards it and smiled.
"It worked," he cried, his voice croaking painfully. "It worked."
The figure came closer and stepped over Jonathan's body, with his feet on either side of his hips. Jonathan watched through a weakened smile as the figure lowered and sat on his torso, warm familiar hands circling his neck.
"Save me, and I shall be saved: for thou art my praise, save me, and I shall be saved: for thou art my praise," he repeated softly over and over as the hands tightened on his throat until the last breath of life had been squeezed out of his burning lungs.