From: foxhunt2blue <foxhunter2blue@yahoo.com>
Date: 22 Dec 2002 18:15:26 -0800
Subject: New WIP Fic: "Final Communion" Part 1/? Rated R/NC-17 for
Source: atxc

TITLE: Final Communion Part 1/?
AUTHOR: Foxhunt2blue
RATING: NC-17 for Violence & Language
SUMMARY: A serial killer from Scully's past reaches
out to complete the job he didn't finish ten years ago.
SPOILERS: None
KEYWORDS: M/S Friendship
DISCLAIMER: Sob! :( I don't own them CC does! 
ARCHIVE: YES!!! Just let me know.
FEEDBACK: Please I breath & sleep it!!
foxhunter2blue@yahoo.com or Kitsunegari2001@aol.com
DEDICATION: Sam your gift to me inspired me to
complete what I conceived over a year ago. You have 
an artist's soul! Hurry up and give it back before they
miss it LOL ;)

~*~*~*~*
PROLOGUE
~*~*~*~*

He wakes in the darkness, a place he knows to well. 

Pain ripples across his body as he looks down from 
his lofty prison. She kneels at his feet, a veil of white 
leaving her face in shadow. He can hear the whispered 
plea of her words as she prays to her God...a God that 
ceased to exist for him years ago when he lost his 
reason for being. 

"Hear me Father...spare his life. Help me find a way to 
save him from this."

He has never heard her like this before, not even when 
she lay dying of the cancer as it ate her body away, her 
very soul.

The sound of shattered bones grinding together as he 
weakly struggles to free himself send chills down his spine. 

He lost all feeling in his hands and feet hours ago he was 
grateful for the shock that swallowed the pain. 

Metal grinding against bone, against shredded flesh. 

The spikes holding him to the wooden limbs of the crude 
cross have marked him for life even if he escapes this place 
he will carry the marks for the rest of his life.

Fire ripples up his side as he takes ragged breaths through 
the rag that gags him, silences his screams, as the spear slices 
through his flesh as if it were warm butter. Tears he had long 
thought dried up well in his swollen eyes, trickling down his 
pale face just as the blood trickles down his naked side.

"Stop it! Stop it! You sick fucker...oh, Jesus he can't take 
any more. You twisted son of a bitch!" Her cries are equal to 
his pain as she pulls at the chain that binds her to the concrete. 

"He isn't the one who did it! I did! God, please it's me you 
want...not him!"

"Hush Mary...," the spears blade rips a muffled shriek from 
his captives lungs.

"I am not Mary! Why can't you understand that!?"

~*~*~*~*
DECEMBER 19, 1989
QUANTICO-OUTER PERIMETER
~*~*~*~*

Lungs burning, legs threatening to collapse beneath her, she
refused to give in to the fear. She let the anger drive her on
well aware that soon the adrenaline would wear out and she
would be faced with the pain, both her body and her mind.

Dana Scully refused to believe that she wouldn't finish what
she had started. Her father had been furious with her when
she had chose to leave her blossoming career in medicine
to join the FBI. That had been almost as bad as the pain she
had been trying to escape, the pain of what she had thought
was true love gone sour.

Finally the pain was to much and her body refused to go on
collapsing in a bundle of shivering flesh as the first flakes of
snow began to fall. Sucking in desperate lungfulls of icy air she
let the tears finally fall as she replayed the conversation over
and over in her throbbing head.

*Dana...honey we miss you baby.*

*I think it would be better if I stayed here Mom. I have so
much to do and so litt...*

*Your father misses you Dana.*

That wasn't true, she thought, Dad had been out to sea for the
last six months. He was just hoping she had given in to his wishes
by now, that she had given up on this stubborn fantasy she had.

"Damn you," she hissed between clenched teeth. "Why can't you
just understand Daddy. I have to do this...I just have too."

*It's Christmas Dana...the whole family wants you here. Your
father loves you honey...he just wants what's best for you.*

Struggling to her feet she swiped at the tears that stained her
face, then headed back to the dormitory.

Worn out, exhausted she made it back to the women's dorm just
as the last of the bleak grey winter light faded. As she looped
around the corner she almost ran straight into the man who was 
waiting outside her door.

"What the..."

"I'm sorry. Are you Dana Scully?"

"Yes, I am. Who are you?"

"SAC Jason Devereux. Can I speak with you for a moment 
ma'am."

~*~*~*~*
J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING
DECEMBER 19, 2000
~*~*~*~*

She hadn't thought of Jason Devereux in over ten years. Not 
since she had been called out of her training to help on the 
case, she now realized, that had caused her to stay. The idea 
of maybe getting to be a field agent had been very enticing. 

Two years later she had been assigned to the X-Files.

Now here she was staring at an obituary for the first male 
agent who had given her respect as an equal. Jason had 
been one of the kindest and most intelligent men she had 
ever had the pleasure of knowing. To think anyone could 
have done this to him was holy unbelievable.

"Shit!"

The sharp bark of her partner's voice followed by the thud 
of him hitting the floor shocked her from the black thoughts 
she had been surrounded with. Turning she couldn't help 
the childish giggle that escaped her at the sight before her.

Fox Mulder sprawled out on his back, legs and arms a scew, 
his hair damp with snow, sticking out in all directions. Another 
giggle escaped her when he tried to stand up and hit the floor 
with another stream of profanity. Mulder didn't normally use 
that type of language, but when he did her father would have 
been proud. He even used a few she didn't recognize that she 
assumed were from his days at Oxford.

"Not Funny!!" He hissed as he tried once more, the soles of his 
dress shoes skidding beneath him in a parody of ice skating.

When he was finally able to stand he tried to capture back 
some of his dignity that had been lost in a flurry of unbalanced 
limbs.

"So what you reading?" He poked a finger at the abandoned file
on the desk in front of her.

Suddenly the dark cloud lowered over her again.

"Jason Devereux," she whispered fingering the edge of the folder.

"The agent in charge of the Chicago VCU? The one that was 
murdered?"

Mulder draped his coat over the rack by the door, then carefully 
moved to the chair behind his desk.

"Yes, we...," she paused thinking of the man she had met all those 
years ago. What had they truly had between them? Before Mulder 
he been the closest to a best friend in the Bureau she had.

"You knew him?" Mulder raised a brow trying to smooth his hair 
down.

"Yes, we met when I was still in training at the Academy."

~*~*~*~*
DECEMBER 20, 1989
WARRENTON, ILLINOIS
~*~*~*~*

She was at a lose for words.

Here she was just a few short months from graduation and she 
had already impressed someone in the Old Boys Network 
enough that they had given her a sterling recommendation. 

"Oh...Hi Dana!"

Lifting her eyes from the file she had been engrossed in she 
smiled at the tall, slim, dark haired man waving from across 
the crowded police station.

"Agent Devereux."

"Please call me Jason. How was your trip?"

"The flight was delayed out of DC, but the drive was nice. To 
tell you the truth I was expecting Warrenton to be closer to 
Chicago than it is."

"Yeah, well it seems the small towns aren't even safe from 
the nut jobs anymore."

Jason had been respectful in every way, introducing her to 
the other agents not as a student of Quantico, but as Dr. Dana 
Scully, a young pathologist that was to be teaching at Quantico. 
A young woman who had been in the top ten percent of her 
class, a student who had rewritten Einstein's theories. There 
was a connection between them from the very beginning, a big 
brother who wasn't over protective like her actual brothers had 
been.

"Dana."

She smiled at the way he said her name with a dignity she had 
never thought that particular name held.

"Thank you Jason for such a sterling introduction. As you all 
know I am a pathologist and I will be working with Dr. Richardson 
and his fantastic staff on the autopsies of the last two victims. It 
appears from what I've read that the victims were held for an 
undisclosed period of time during which the perp crucified them. 
There were traces of iron in the wounds that pierced the wrists 
and feet. Is that correct doctor?"

"Yes, Dr. Scully."

One of the field agents in attendance lifted his hand.

"Yes, Agent...," she raised a brow.

"Perez. Jamie Perez. I would like to point out that this is not a 
crucifixion in the common understanding."

"No...not in the preconceived notion of the general public, but 
it is a historically accurate one. In a true crucifixtion the human 
body can not be supported by the nails through the palms as 
represented in the religious artifacts of the present. True 
crucifixions were done through the thickest point of the wrist."

~*~*~*~*
DECEMBER 19, 2000
OFFICE OF FOX MULDER
~*~*~*~*

"...it says here that he was crucified."

"What?" Scully looked up in confusion.    

"It says that Jason Devereux was crucified. Has to be a religious 
nut of some type. It also says his wife is still missing and that they 
were taken from their own bed in the middle of the night."

"Megan was one of the agents working with us on the case where 
I met Jason. I actually set them up...I can't believe he's dead."

Mulder sat down smiling softly as he reached out, squeezing her 
shoulder gently. "Are you going to Chicago?"

Glancing up through a sheen of tears she whispered, "What?"

"Chicago...for the funeral?" 

Now Mulder was worried, she could see it in the way his eyes 
seemed to shift colors. She was afraid to ask him what she had 
too. There was going to be a trip, but not just for Jason's funeral. 

"Mulder I need you to come with me to Chicago."

Curiosity warred with worry in his dark stare.

"This isn't something I can explain Mulder easily, but I have to 
go for other reasons than personal ones. The case we worked 
on together...it was the most terrifying thing I had ever experienced 
until Donnie Phaster."

Mulder drew back at that admission.

No matter how much time had passed, he had never expected 
her to admit the fear that he had seen in her eyes when Phaster 
had been captured. He sat staring at her wondering why she 
had never mentioned Jason Devereux before or this case they 
had worked on.

"I know who killed Jason."

That sent his eyebrows shooting into his hairline.

"You know who killed him, but how??"

"The bastard we caught ten years ago. He was taken care of...he 
was gone, but I know it's him Mulder. It has to be...there is no 
one who knew the details of his MO."

"Who?" Mulder's eyes darkened at the tremor that moved through 
her body.

"James Ingalles."

"The Crucifix Killer! Dammit Scully you worked that case?"

"Yes...and there are details in this file, details of Jason's murder 
that only he would know. I know it sounds crazy...," her voice 
trailed off.

"Scully listen to me it can't be Ingalles."

"But...,"

"He was executed in the gas chamber two years ago."

When her head jerked up he saw the terror in her eyes. Strong 
and black it made his decision for him. 

He was going to Chicago.
    
~*~*~*~*
DECEMBER 23, 1989
DARK ROAD INN
WARRENTON, ILLINOIS
~*~*~*~*

She sat silently watching the flames swirl around the logs as 
if it possessed a life of it's own. Two days after she had 
arrived another victim had been taken. She was beginning to 
wonder is she should have taken her chances with her family.

Lifting the glass of wine from the side table she brought it 
slowly to her lips, it's sweet flavor struggling to cover the bitter
taste of failure.  They had called her down here in hopes of
catching this bastard before any others fell, but she had failed.

"Hey there... How are you doing Dana?" 

Glancing up over the rim of glass she met Jason's dark eyes,
eyes filled with concern. 

"I'm fine," she whispered as she fought back the tears.

"No, your not...neither am I or anyone who's working this
case," he knelt in front of the fire.

"Why did you ask for my help?"

Jason looked up startled by her fierce words.

"You were recommended by one of your instructors. I was 
told that you were the best pathologist he had ever had the
pleasure of knowing...he also said that you had a very detail
oriented eye."

"Really? I do try to pride myself in my...,"

"Dana where is your family?"

"Family?"

"Yes...your family. I know I miss mine...it's Christmas and I'd
rather be there."

"They understand about my work," she whispered, taking 
another swallow of wine. 

"Dana would you like to join me at midnight mass?"

The heaviness lifted from her chest at the thought. Perhaps her
faith could show her the way.

"Of course Agent Devereux I would love too."

"Jason...call me Jason."

~*~*~*~*
DECEMBER 21, 2000
HOLY SPIRIT CEMETERY
WARRENTON, ILLINOIS
~*~*~*~*

"We are here today to put to rest the mortal remains of Jason 
Alexander Devereux. He was a man of dignity, of compassion
and he was a respected member of this community...,"

The priest's words faded as Scully swallowed back tears she
was to scared to shed. Soft flakes of snow drifted past her
eyes, dancing on the increasing wind, but even if it had been a
summer day her soul would have been frozen. She had thought
of Jason as a friend though she hadn't spoken to him since
he and Megan's marriage. 

Poor Megan.

She had been found yesterday wandering along the interstate
just outside Warrenton. Now she was in Warrenton Memorial
recovering from dehydration, malnutrition and God only knew
what else. Burrowing her hands into her coat pockets she leaned
into the warm arm that had snaked around her shoulders. Lifting
her eyes she smiled into Mulder's eyes praying he would hold off 
on the usual 'How are you' she hated that.

"...and so we say our final good-byes as we return him to the
earth. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

Slowly, one by one, the mourners drifted past the open grave
silently performing their own final good-byes. Fists of damp
earth mixed with roses drifted down to settle on the glossy
surface of the coffin.

"Scully?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"We need to go."

She could see the regret in his eyes as he handed her a single
rose from the urn at the foot of the grave. Jason would have
liked Mulder, she thought, accepting the flower.

"Give me a moment, please...I'll meet you at the car."

With a nod he shifted his collar up around his ears, then headed
back towards the car. The slope of his shoulders left her with
no doubt she might have to smooth over some feelings. All
he wanted was to help her through this, hell she had been the
one who wanted him to come.

Stepping up to the open grave she bowed her head in a silent
prayer. I'm sorry Jason, she thought, so damned sorry about
this. I swear I'll find who did this...I will.

Opening her eyes she lifted the vivid blossom, her fingers
releasing the stem. As it hit the dirt dusting the top of the
coffin, it's petals scattered. Drops of  ruby against the darkness,
the ruby of life.

Of blood. 

*~*~*~*

She was one of them.

One of the bastards who had thought to destroy him with their
weak human wills. Holding their human laws up to him, demanding
he follow them.

Their laws had been what had pushed him from the church. The
church had been everything to him and like Judas it had betrayed
him. Just because he knew the truth. 

Mary had returned to the earth.

Mary Magdelen and with her Jesus had returned.

She had loved him, but her love had been hidden away. She had
watched him die on Calvary, yet still she hid her love. This though
was her chance to confess her love, but first she must remember
who she was. 

He had known all those years ago that she was the one.

The problem was she hadn't met him yet. Now Jesus had found
Mary and their love would be revealed to him, to the world. His
search was finally over. How could he have doubted?

Soon Mary...soon you shall confess your sin.

How dare you taint the son of God with you unholy love?

~*~*~*~*
FEBRUARY 12, 1990
STATE OF ILLINOIS
SUPERIOR COURT
~*~*~*~*

James Ingalles sat staring across the courtroom a tiny smile
playing at the corners of his mouth. Today was the arraignment
hearing, the moment when the FBI threw out their tidbits to
prove that he was the one.

The Crucifix Killer was what the media had dubbed him.

Pale watery green eyes traced her every step as she took the
stand. Dana Scully could feel the bastard's eyes following her
every move. Taking a deep breath she turned her right hand 
settling on the bible the bailiff held out.

"Do you swear to tell the truth? The whole truth and nothing
but the truth so help you God?"

"I do."

"State your name for the court's record."

"Dana Katherine Scully."

"And your occupation Ms. Scully?" The prosecutor moved
closer, heels clicking against smooth marble.

"I am a trained pathologist, but am presently completing my
training at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia."

"Ms. Scully how did you become involved with this investigation?"

"I was recruited by the Special Agent in Charge Jason Devereux."

~*~*~*~*
DECEMBER 20, 2000
DARK ROAD INN
MIDNIGHT
~*~*~*~*

Setting up Scully swallowed back the bile that filled her throat
her breathing ragged with fear. Nightmares filled with horrifying
images, images from the past.

She had been there when they had arrested James Ingalles as
he tested his last victim. A young college boy...what had been
his name...Patrick Cooke and his fiance Elsa Maxwell. There
had been so much blood...he hadn't made it. Neither had Elsa
Maxwell.

Slipping from bed she moved to the bathroom, turning on the 
light with numb fingers. Filling the sink with cold water she 
began splashing the frigid liquid over her dream fevered skin.

"Scully?"

Jerking up she choked down a cry as she met Mulder's
worried eyes.

"Jesus Mulder you scared the shit out of me," grabbing the 
towel from the rack she began patting her face dry.

"I'm sorry, but I heard you moving around...I thought," a flush
rose in his cheeks as she scrutinized him. "I'm sorry...I'll go...I'm
sorry I...," she grabbed his wrist as he turned to leave.

"Mulder...please don't go. I should be the one apologizing."

Curiosity shone in his dark eyes as she led him into the other 
room, nodding at the bed. Settling down on the twisted covers
he picked at a lose string on his pajama bottoms.

"I ask you to come with me and I still walled you out."

"No, Scully you have every ri...,"

"I have no right to drag you half way across the country, then
refuse to let you know why. You're my partner and you deserve
more respect than that." 

"Scully you don't have to tell me anything."

"Yes, I do."

~*~*~*~*
HOLY SPIRIT CHURCH
WARRENTON, ILLINOIS
JANUARY 5, 1990
~*~*~*~*

"I don't want you going in Dana. You're not an agent yet."

Dana Scully turned back to face the man that she had
grown to respect over the last few weeks. He was the 
last one she expected to pull this macho bullshit.

"Dammit Jason listen to me! Between your profiler and
my own observations we both know that any man that
walks in there will be picked off like the proverbial fish
in the barrel. He has an affinity of sorts for the women,
in particular Catholic women if I can...,"

"No! I'm not budging on this," Jason's voice lowered as
the agents close by leaned in. "You're my friend Dana I 
think you will make a wonderful agent, maybe one of
the best, but god dammit if I'm letting you risk your
future like this."

"You don't have a choice about this Jason. Ingalles is
in there with his last two victims...God only knows 
what he's done with Elsa Maxwell and I'm sure you 
know what he's done to Patrick Cooke. Hell Cooke
may be dead already!"

She watched as Jason paced back and forth his hands
coming up to rub at the three days growth of beard. There
was only one choice in the matter, at least only one that she 
could see as even feasible. The question was could he do
what he knew he had to do.

~*~*~*~*
HOLY SPIRIT CHURCH
WARRENTON, ILLINOIS
DECEMBER 20, 2000
~*~*~*~*

The first light of dawn tinged the eastern horizon with a rosy
blush even though the remainder of the early morning sky lay
blanketed with the threat of more snow. 

Holy Spirit Church.

It hadn't really changed in ten years it had just faded a little
more in its glory. Shivering she dug her hands deeper into
her pockets, glancing back over her shoulder to where 
Mulder was standing by the car. There were nightmares she
had to face, to come to terms with so she could find the
bastard who had killed Jason. 

Turning she waved Mulder over to where she stood on the 
snow covered pathway.

"So this is it? I expected something a little different," his arm
moved to encircle her.

"He brought all his victims here. Sometimes I still have night-
mares about this place," another shiver tore through her body.

"Like last night?"

Looking up into his eyes, she allowed herself a tiny smile.

"Yes...like last night."

Taking his hand she guided him up the wide stone stairs to
where the wooden door hung listlessly, the dark interior
calling to her. She felt his fingers tighten around hers in a
gesture of comfort.

~*~*~*~*

Watery green eyes filled with loathing and disgust watched
as she lead him up to the doors.

How dare the whore step into the hallowed temple of the
Lord? And with his son under her thrall. A low growl rumbled
deep in his throat as the two figures disappeared into the
darken sanctuary.

"You will be granted your salvation Mary, but first the tests
must be administered, the son must suffer his sins as well as
yours."

With a soft laugh James Ingalles headed towards the open
door. Behind him the snow remained unblemished.

End Part I

Part 2/?

~*~*~*~*
HOLY SPIRIT CHURCH
WARRENTON, ILLINOIS
DECEMBER 20, 2000
~*~*~*~*

She insisted on going first even though Mulder could see 
the terror in her eyes. A nightmare from a time when she 
hadn't known him, a nightmare she had come here to put 
a rest too.

"This place must have been a beauty in it's day," he craned
his neck upward studying the curve of the domed ceiling.
High above them the first light of morning struggled to 
pierce the dirt encrusted windows, the occasional spark 
of colored light flickering across the debris covered 
floor. He was actually suprised that it wasn't in worse shape, 
the random crack in the plaster, one or two of the pews 
broken most likely by kids who were dared to enter the 
Crucifix Killer's lair. Maybe even the occasional vagrant 
seeking shelter from the icy mid-west winter.

"Yes, it was actually," Scully turned to him with a tight 
swallow, "James Ingalles was the priest here before he 
was ex-communicated."

"He was the priest?"

Mulder had read the files, but he didn't recall that tidbit of 
information.

"The Church was very tight lipped about the fact he was 
the priest. When he was caught with his final victims there 
was a need to protect the Church so the Arch Bishop in 
charge of this area came to the FBI. There was a vast 
amount of interference run to block certain information
from the press."

Moving up to the altar his eyes moved across the wall, 
taking in the faded paint of the religious murals, finally 
coming to rest on the crucifix that hung from the ceiling. 

Most of these he had seen would have held a Christ figure,
a figure meant, in his opinion, to suck as much guilt from 
the faithful as possible. 

This one did not though.

It's arms were stained though.

Stained with what he could imagine was the blood of the 
victims. Swallowing hard he reached out to the foot of 
the crucifix, fingers tracing the splintered hole in the wood. 
Inside his mind he tried to imagine what it must have been
like for Ingellas' victims. First tied to the crucifix, tortured 
in ways that made bile rise in the back of his throat, then 
finally being nailed to the cross just as Christ had been.

Suddenly he wanted to be anywhere other than here.

"Scully I'm going to go exploring okay?"

She nodded her head without really looking up. "Mulder 
be careful...this place is probably a deathtrap."

"Yes, Mom!" he flung back over his shoulder.

She could almost see him rolling his eyes at her. She was 
use to it by now after this long it would have been impossible 
not to be. Letting her thoughts drift she never noticed the 
fleeting shadow that pursued her partner. Nor did she witness 
the shimmer of evil that skimmed across it's bottomless eyes.

~*~*~*~* 
HOLY SPIRIT CHURCH
ABANDONED RECTORY
~*~*~*~*

Slipping through the shadowed doorway Mulder pulled the 
cobwebs that had tangled in his hair free. Ten years was a 
long time to have nightmares about something like this. Sighing 
he moved into the narrow hallway squinting in the gloomy light, 
cursing himself for not bringing his flashlight, but then he hadn't 
expected to be exploring any dark crevices.

He had read about this crime, about that sick son of bitch. In 
his time with the VCU and the BSU he had seen a hell of a lot 
of sick shit. There was always a reason, no matter the sanity 
or insanity depending on ones point of view. He was having a 
hard time thinking of Scully going through that, not the Scully 
he knew now, but the Scully who had walked into his office
seven years ago.

Fresh faced, she could have been the poster child for the FBI. 
Not a hair out of place, dressed to code and the innocence in 
those big wide blue eyes. Definately a poster child, but it hadn't 
taken her long to lose that innocence. 

Yet, another thing he could blame himself for, he thought, one 
foot lashing out at a box of trash in the middle of the hall. She 
was here to purge some of her demons apparently and he owed 
her that much. 

How many times had she done the same for her? 

But he couldn't even believe that a ghost had killed Jason Devereux.

"Now there's a change...," he whispered to the empty room he 
had stepped into. "Fox Mulder skeptic. That has a nice ring to it 
don't you think?" he questioned.

"Yes... it does."

Before he could turn, before he could pull his gun he was slammed 
to the floor. Stupid, stupid, stupid his brain screamed at him. How 
could you let your guard down? Because there is no such things as 
ghosts, his new found skepticism answered.

Strong hands flipped him over before he could catch a breath, a 
damp rag pressing against his nose and mouth. His vision swam 
out of focus, then back in just long enough for him to see who his 
assailant was...who it couldn't be. Watery green eyes met his own 
and the knowledge that this was really happening finally took hold 
with icy fingers.

"That's it son breath deep...let this world go."

He fought for the strength to escape, but James Ingalles was having 
none of it. Shadows crept into the corner of his vision as the chloroform 
took it's toll.

"That's it...when you wake Mary will be waiting."

~*~*~*~*

"Mulder! MULDER!!" Scully let out a bellow that would have 
done her Navy father proud. 

She was starting to get nervous...really nervous. Glancing down 
at her watch she realized she had good reason to be, Mulder 
had wandered off almost an hour and a half ago. Damn you, 
she thought, as she stepped through the rectory door how could 
he do this to her? 

Wasn't it bad enough that she had watched Jason buried yesterda?
 
Knowing Mulder he had probably fallen through a rotted floor and 
was laying in a dark hole with a broken leg.

Sighing she stepped to her left into what had probably been the 
resident priest's study. Empty bookshelves lined the wall to her 
left coated with a thick layer of dust, just as the floor did. Looking 
down she could make out Mulder's footprints in the dust. With an 
arch of her brow she moved slowly scanning the floor. 

Odd she couldn't see any prints leading out, but the ones leading in 
were clear.

"Mulder?" her voice came out in a tight whisper as her eyes spotted 
the watch, his watch.

The floor had been almost wiped clean of dust and sitting in the 
middle of the dust free section was Mulder's watch. Suddenly 
she knew there was something worse going on than Mulder's 
clumsiness. Her hand slid beneath her jacket, fingers popping 
the snap on her shoulder holster.

"Mulder? Are you here Mulder?" Curling her fingers around the 
butt of her Sig, she pulled it from her holster, standing and turning 
in one fluid motion.

Nothing.

She could have sworn there had been someone behind her.

Lowering down into a squat she picked up the watch, her eyes 
flickering down to note the band was torn, the heavy nylon shredded. 

Her eyes darted back up, her breaths coming quicker as she stood. 

She had to get some help out here and fast.

Taking off at a dead run she broke out into the bright sunlight, heading 
for the car. Something was definately wrong here, something bad. 

With trembling fingers she managed to unlock the car, slipping behind 
the steering wheel. A few seconds later she was dialing 911.

"911 What is your emergency?"

"This is Federal Agent Dana Scully, badge number 2317-616 I need  
backup at Holy Spirit Church at 22364 Parrish Road. I have a possible 
officer down."

"Relax Agent Scully police have been dispatched. Have shots been fired?"

"No," her heart was pounding as she scanned the wide expanse of lawn
in front of the church.

"Are you physically okay Agent Scully?"

"Yes, I have no injuries."

"Is there anyone else I need to contact for you?"

"Yes, I need to contact my superior. I'm based in Washington, DC. You
can contact Assistant Director Walter Skinner through the Chicago FBI
Field office."

"I'm making contact with the field office, the police should be there in
ten minutes just sit tight."

"Thank you ma'am."

She sat the phone down her body stiffening at the faint sickly sweet
odor that wafted beneath her nose. Shit, that smell, she knew that smell
what the hell was it?

Two seconds before she realized what it was the cloth was across her
mouth and nose. Struggling she tried to turn in the seat, her gun slipping
from her fingers, clattering to the floorboard.

"Mary...Mary...relax child I'm only taking you to the son."

She knew that voice, but Mulder had told her it wasn't possible. He told
her that the execution had taken place, that the bastard was dead.

"Shhh...hush Mary...soon. Soon you shall be reunited."

Her vision began to fade as the sweetness filled her lungs.

~*~*~*~*
FEBRUARY 15, 1990
ILLINOIS STATE 
SUPERIOR COURT
~*~*~*~*

"Please stand for the honorable Judge Robert Erickson."

A dead silence rolled over the courtroom as Judge Ericksen
entered the court, the only sound the swish of his robes. Seconds
ticked by as he settled behind the high wooden desk, then cleared
his throat.

"I have carefully considered the evidence layed before me by
the prosecution as well as the request from the Archdiocese. I
believe that enough evidence does exist to bring these horrifying
crimes to trial."

A sigh of relief rose from the gathered officers, agents and lawyers
at the judges words. They had feared because of Ericksen's close
ties to the church, his brother was a priest as his father had been,
that the Church would win out on their requests. 

"I do though, with regret insist that this trial be held in a closed
court with no press involved..."

"With all due respect sir I think that is a mistake." Jason trembled
with repressed anger as Dana reached out to draw him back into
his seat.

"SAC Devereux I respect your opinion, but my decision is final."

"Yes...your honor," he gritted out between clenched teeth.

"I have set the date for the trial as March fifteenth. As for the request
for bail on the defendant's part I deny it. Despite his supposed 'good'
citizen record I can not in any good sense allow such a high flight
risk loose on the good citizens of the city. Dismissed."

As the gavel connected with the wood Jason stood moving from
the courtroom with a determined pace. Dana followed close behind
her heels clicking against the marble floor of the hall.

"Jason! Jason dammit stop!"

He did just that spinning on her his face flushed with anger. "What?!"

"Please Jason lower your voice," she hissed softly. "We walked out
of there with more than we had hoped for...,"

"Bullshit Dana! The bastard is going to walk! You know it and I know
it. Ericksen was assigned because of his connections. Do you think
for a moment that the Church could allow the press to get their teeth
into this?"

Reaching out she pulled his shaking body into her arms. "He will pay
Jason...I promise you," her lips brushed against his in a soft whisper.

~*~*~*~*
UNKNOWN LOCATION
DECEMBER 20, 2000
1:00 PM
~*~*~*~*

Groaning Mulder blinked his eyes trying to adjust to the dim greyness
of his prison. The last thing he remebered was the look in those all
to familiar green eyes.

James Ingalles.

But he had been executed.

Pulling up from the damp floor Mulder shivered at the thought of a
killer ghost, not that he hadn't faced one before. Rubbing his palms
along his biceps the room came into focus just as he realized that
he was naked except for his thin cotten boxers.

"..shit...," he hissed through clenched teeth, as he stumbled to
his feet.

The soft rattle of a chain made him focus on his feet. Iron manacles
encircled his ankles connected by a thick chain, effectively hobbling
him. Whoever his kidnapper the man was smart. There was no way
he could fight anyone off with his ankles chained so closely together.

With a groan he sank back to the floor.

"..mul..der..."

Shaking his head he glanced around the room until his eyes settled
on what appeared to be a small opening in the wall just four feet
from where he sat.

"Scully?" he crawled across the floor coming just close enough
for his fingers to brush the lip of the opening.

"Oh, thank God," came the answering whisper. "Are you okay?"

"If you call being naked and chained okay I suppose so."

Soft laughter drifted through the dark opening. "Don't you know
it. Finally I have you alone and naked, but there's a damn wall
in the way."

Mulder's eyes widened at her words. Innuendo wasn't Scully's
cup of tea usually, but hey he wasn't complaining. It worried
him though.

"You got a spoon Scully? You could always dig your way to
me." 

Another burst of laughter drifted to him on the dank air.

"It was Ingalles," she whispered.

"Scully I know what you saw...I saw the same thing, but it
can't be true. I checked with the prison before we flew into
Chicago. He was executed, there were twenty people who
witnessed it."

Silence greeted his words.

"Scully? Dana?"

"Do you know when your scared...really scared for me you
always use my first name."

A bitter smile twisted his lips. He had never really thought
about it until now, but she was right. The first time he recalled 
doing it was early in their partnership when her father had
passed away. He remembered how casual she had been
strolling into the basement the day of his funeral, as if nothing
had been wrong.

"I am scared," he whispered back.

"Mulder...he...did you read the file?"

"Yes I did," another shiver rippled through him.

"He came back to fullfill a promise."

"Scully...please don't."

"He told me after the sentencing what he knew. I was a foolish
kid Mulder...I blew his declaration off like so much crap. He
knew killing Jason would bring me back here."

"It's not him Scully."

"Dammit Mulder listen to me! He knew this would happen."

~*~*~*~*
APRIL 20, 1990
ILLINOIS STATE
SUPERIOR COURT
~*~*~*~*

"We the jury in the case of the State of Illinois vs Ingalles find
the defendent James William Ingalles guilty on eight counts of
murder in the first degree."

Dana squeezed Jason's hand as the verdict was announced.

"Guilty on eight counts of kidnapping, four counts of forcible
rape..."

Their voices faded as Jason buried his face in the soft curtain
of her hair. She knew how important this case had been to
him, but not how important until halfway through the trial. One
of the first victims had been his high school sweetheart. How
that had managed to stay a secret was beyond her, but it had
and now the bastard was going to pay.

"Come on Jason...let's go," she whispered in his ear.

Nodding he had sat up, swiping at the tears that stained his face.

~*~*~*~*

An hour later they were back at the Marriott on Lakeshore Drive
overlooking Lake Michigan. Dana stood staring out at the calm
sweep of blue waters reminded of the sea where her father
was now, on another tour.

His hands slid around her waist, his chin resting on the top of her
head. Silence filled the room, the faint saltiness of the early spring
air caressing her skin.

"Jason...I don't think we...," she turned in his arms as he leaned
in their lips meeting. He wanted this and if she were honest with
herself she wanted it too.

Melting into his body she sighed as he lifted her in his arms. With
a few quick steps he was kneeling on the bed, reaching for the
tiny pearl buttons on her blouse, fumbling to release her breasts
from the prison of soft cotton.

She had promised herself it wouldn't happen again.

"...jason...," she whispered as his lips encircled one tight nipple.

Her breath quickened as he pushed up her skirt, his fingers 
tugging down her cotton panties, slipping into her moist folds.

"I love you Dana," he whispered against her breast.

Then his fingers were plunging into her, stroking until her back
arched against the erotic assault.

~*~*~*~*
UNKNOWN LOCATION
DECEMBER 20, 2000
~*~*~*~*

"You were in love with him." 

Mulder felt a tight pain in his chest. He had no reason to be
jealous, he thought.

"No...I wasn't. He was in love with me and I didn't have the
heart to tell him I wasn't."

"Of course you weren't my dear. A whore is incapable of
true love."

Mulder was on his feet at the sound of the harse words.

Scully screamed in terror beyond the wall sending Mulder
over the edge.

"You bastard! Let her go!"

He clawed at the wall, screaming until his throat was raw,
his lungs burning. 

"No, don't please! PLEASE!" Her screams were suddenly
cut off leaving Mulder's ears ringing with their echo.

"NNNoooo! You son of bitch! Leave her alone!" He fell
to his knees, tears streaking his face, his nails torn and bloody
from his desperate attempts to get to her.       

"...please..oh...god please," he whimpered, the darkness
closing in.

End Part II

Part 3/?

~*~*~*~*
POLICE HEADQUARTERS
WARRENTON, ILLINOIS
9:35 PM
~*~*~*~*

Even this late at night the lobby of Warrenton's finest was
active for a small college town. Through the mass of beat
cops, visiting agents and various felons Walter Skinner
moved with a quick confident stride causing those around
him to pause in curiosity. Pausing at the Sergeant's desk
he flashed his badge with an ease that had come with more
years than he even cared to admit.

"Assistant Director Walter Skinner, Washington Bureau. I'm
looking for ASAC Jamie Perez."

Without pause the sergeant, a round graying man, lifted his
hand pointing down a side hall. "Room 112. Last door on your
right at the end of the hall."

Before the man had finished Skinner was half way down the
hallway, his mind working over the conversation he had with
the Chicago Assistant Director only eight hours before.

*What happened?*

*Right now the details are sketchy. A woman identifying
herself as Agent Dana Katherine Scully via her badge number
called the Warrenton local emergency number. She informed
the operator of her location 22364 Parish Road, a Holy
Spirit Church. She then told the operator that there was a
possible agent down, but she herself was okay.*

*Was she?*

*That's the problem Mr. Skinner. When officers answered
the call there was no sign of her or the other agent in question.
Only their rental car and her Sig were recovered outside the
abandoned church.*

Skinner glanced up as he stopped outside 112. Beyond the
frosted glass he could hear the murmur of voices, both male
and female. Taking a deep breath he turned the knob, 
stepping into the hub of activity.

~*~*~*~*
UNKNOWN LOCATION
11:35 PM
~*~*~*~*

Lost in the memory of his partner's screams Mulder lay 
shivering on the damp earthen floor wishing for death.

Within his heart he knew without a doubt he couldn't
live without her if she had been taken from this world.

"She still lives my son...though she does not deserve
your devotion. It amazes me that a whore instills such
faith, especially in you."

Rolling over he looked into what he knew couldn't
be real. James Ingalles, dead for these last two years,
put to death for his crimes.

"Oh, I am very real my son."

"I'm not your son!" Mulder spit out.

"But you are mine as well as the world's. It was foretold
over a thousand years ago that you would return to us."

Ingalles knelt in the damp earth, his pale green eyes 
taking in every inch of Mulder's quivering body. Bile
rose in Mulder's throat as he felt their caress, leaving
him with a feeling of violation.

"Do you know that they thought they could end my
search by feeding me their mortal justice? Just as you
sit here in the darkness so did I, trapped in between
worlds until he came to me."

A shudder tore through Mulder as he ask. "Who?"

"Why the father," a look of shock passed over those
pale eyes. "Who else would come to me?"

Shifting into a sitting position he motioned for Mulder
to sit as well. From his belt he pulled a small drawstring
bag and removed a packet of powder.

"He told me that I was to return...resurrected in spirit
so I could do what I was destined to do." He removed
a small brass bowl, emptying the packet of powder
into it. "He spoke to me of the trials of his son and how
I was to be the one to bring his son to his destiny as
well."

Drawing a packet of matches from the pouch he lit one,
then placed it's flame to the powder. Slowly the powder
began to smoke, it's sweet, cloying scent filling Mulder's
lungs.

"What is that?" Mulder choked out as Ingalles stood.

"Frankincense and myrrh. It is a purifying agent, it's
medicinal properties will prepare you for the trials to
come my son."

As the smoke filled the room Mulder began to cough,
his lungs burning with the sickeningly sweet smoke. A
sharp prick brought him back from a painful coughing
fit as he realized Ingalles had slid a needle beneath his
skin.

"Wha...aa...tt?"

"Just something to make you a little more cooperative."

Coughs racked his body as the drug began to flow 
through his body. Once more the darkness began to
seep into his vision. 

~*~*~*~*
POLICE HEADQUARTERS
WARRENTON, ILLINOIS
MIDNIGHT
~*~*~*~*

Skinner sat sleeves rolled to his elbows shifting through
the preliminary report on the disappearance of Scully
and Mulder. Reaching out he lifted the styrofoam cup
of what passed for coffee in this town. He rolled the 
bitter concoction over his tongue as he shuffled through
the crime scene photos.

Exterior of Holy Spirit Church.

Rental car parked on the street, no sign of a struggle,
cell phone laying neatly in the passenger side seat
alongside Scully's Sig Sauer. The gun had not been
fired. There were no fingerprints apparent other
than those of Scully, Mulder and two others that had 
been identified as belonging to employees of the Avis
rental agency at Chicago's O'Hare Airport.

Two sets of tracks in the snow leading up to the front 
door of the church. The same two sets of tracks led
into the main sanctuary, then into what had been the
rectory. 

The officers who had answered the call followed 
those prints into what had once been the main study
of the church's priest. A large area had been swept
clean in the center of the room, speaking of a struggle,
though only two sets of prints entered the room and
one exited.

A watch, which Skinner himself had identified as
Mulder's, had been placed in the center of the clean
area.

A taunt, he thought.

"AD Skinner?"

He glanced up at the sound of the man's voice.

"Yes."

"ASAC Jamie Perez out of Chicago. I'm sorry I wasn't
here when you arrived. I was at the library pulling some
research on the church." 

As he settled at the table he reached into a soft attache
case, removing a stack of folders. Skinner studied the
face of the man in front of him. He didn't look much
older than thirty, but Skinner was aware he was forty.

"So what did you find Agent Perez?"

"I have a bad feeling that this is connected to..."

"James Ingalles?" Skinner smiled at the shock in the
other man's dark eyes. "I know that my agents were
down here for the funeral of Jason Devereux. He was
the agent in charge of the Crucifix Killer case back in
'89 and '90. You worked under him if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes, I did," Jamie cleared his throat. "I was at the funeral
and spoke to Agent Scully. She wasn't even a full fledged
agent when I worked with her in '89. Jason brought her
in at the suggestion of...,"

"Jack Willis. She didn't know that though did she?"

Jamie shook his head, a smile twitching at the corners of
his wide mouth. "I was told you were good, but damn."

Skinner leaned back crossing his ankles, arms folded
behind his head. "So how did Jason Devereux die?"

"You've got the folder," Jamie's brow rose, "...you tell
me."

"Same as all the male victims of James Ingalles, but we
know it's not Ingalles, he was put to death in the gas
chamber two years ago. So that leaves us with the only
other feasible explanation."

"And that is?"

"That Ingalles had a partner in those murders."

"Impossible!" Exclaimed Perez standing and removing
his coat. "All the evidence pointed to Ingalles, as a matter
of fact Dana Scully was the one who discovered the one
damning piece of evidence. She discovered the pubic hair
that turned out to be Ingalles' on the third female victim."

"Then all the evidence wasn't found."

"Look AD Skinner no insult intended, but in '89 we had
the best people in the law enforcement working on this
case. The second male victim was the nephew of a very
powerful businessman, Albert Brach."

Skinner nodded. 

Albert Brach owned a headhunter company. He had placed
more than three thousand executives throughout the country.

"Listen Perez I would like to see Megan Devereux."

"Megan? I have to let you know that she's still catatonic. I
doubt if she's even aware that Jason is dead. I'm not sure
if that's the best idea."

Skinner drew in a deep breath through his nose. Here was
the moment he knew would yank Perez's chain. "It doesn't
really matter what you think Agent Perez. As of the moment
I stepped into this office I became the agent in charge of
this investigation."

Perez turned on heel slamming the door behind him without
a word.

~*~*~*~*
UNKNOWN LOCATION
3:00 AM
~*~*~*~*

Shivering Scully tried to rub the gumminess from her eyes
only to discover her hands were bound above her head. 

Quickly it came back to her.

Talking to Mulder through her prison wall, wanting to
confess to him, yet another mistake. Ingalles had appeared
in front of her through a door she hadn't noticed before.

Just the sight of him sent her spiraling into a moment of
insanity. She hadn't been able to stop the screams that
had exploded from her throat as he approached her. A
memory of what he had done to the other women.

Rape with a foreign object.

He had raped all of them and now she was next.

Hysteria gripped her as she realized she was completely
naked, her legs spread wide, her ankles bound loosely
to iron rings in the floor.

"Ahhhh...Mary you're awake. Wonderful."

Yanking at the chains that held her down she met his
watery eyes. "You son of a bitch! Bastard!" She let
lose with a string of profanity, thrashing against her
bounds.

"So the whore finally shows her true colors," Ingalles
knelt next to her, one hand reaching out to squeeze
her breast. "You will enjoy what I have planned for
you my daughter. Such beauty wasted on a whore,
but then the devil does know how to seduce." With
a quick pinch of her nipple he stood and moved to
a table across the room.

"You mother fucker don't you dare touch me!"

A chuckle rose from her captor as he went about
pouring powdered incense in brass bowl. Lighting 
the incense he carried it to where her hands were
bound, then placed it on the ground. Standing he
moved back to the table retrieving a object that
Scully recognized through terror filled eyes.

A wooden crucifix.

"NO! God damn you NO!" She screamed as 
he knelt between her wide spread thighs. 

The sickening sweet smoke of the incense filled
her lungs as she screamed her denial out in a 
wave of profanity. Somewhere beyond her own 
screams she could hear Ingalles softly whispering.

"Our father who art in heaven..."

His hands stroked from her waist down the curve
of her hips.

"...hallowed be thy name..."

She tried to twist away as his hand settled over
the mound of her pubic bone.

"...thy kingdom come..."

This wasn't happening, she thought, as the hard
polished tip of the crucifix found it's mark.

"...thy will be done..."

The pain was worse than anything she had ever
felt in her life as she was impaled. Her back arched
against the fire between her thighs, her throat closing
around her screams.

~*~*~*~*
ST. JAMES' HOSPITAL
ROOM 203
DECEMBER 21, 2000
9:15 AM
~*~*~*~*

"Poor thing hasn't spoke a word since she was brought
in day before yesterday. Whoever did this to her is one
sick bastard."

Skinner let the words of the on duty RN drift over him
as he studied Megan Devereux through the window of
the ICU. Her skin was a mottled mass of bruises from the
top of her head, to the souls of her feet. The ER doctor
had suggested that a flat strip of wood had been used to
beat her. There wasn't an inch of her skin untouched by
the bastard's hand.

His eyes moved over the report he held clenched between
his shaking hands. Just the horror of it was enough to make
him want to slam his fist through the wall. She had been raped
multiple times with a foreign object, samples taken at her
admission had shown traces of wood and varnish in her vagina.

"...son of a bitch...," he hissed through clenched teeth.

Closing his eyes he leaned against the cool glass of the window
trying not to think of Scully. No matter what he tried though
the words he had read haunted the back of his eyelids.

Victim struggled during assault.

Traces of iron in cuts around wrists and ankles.

Multiple lacerations. Splinters of what appear to be hawthorn
wood in various lacerations along the abdomen. Bruising of
vaginal tissue.

"Nooooo!"

The scream tore Skinner from his disturbed thoughts. On the
other side of the window two nurses were holding down Megan 
as a third strapped her arms down. Moving around the corner,
he found himself at the foot of her bed, his eyes meeting hers.

Shimmering violet pools.

"Sir? Sir please you shouldn't be here." 

She wants to tell me something, he thought, as her cries died
down. Her chapped lips continued to move as if the words
refused to come. Slowly he moved to her side.

"Sir, please I must protest this."

Her bandaged hand shot out, fingers curling convulsively
around his wrist. Leaning in he focused on the faint whisper.

"...holy..."

"What is it Megan? What can't you tell me?" His voice softened
as her eyes filled with tears. "You're safe here...," he whispered.

"...beneee..eeth...a..all..."

"It's okay. Take your time." Skinner saw the fear in her eyes, the
anger.

"...alll...tha..at...hol...eee..."

"What did she say?" The nurse ask as Megan fell back against the
pillows.

"Beneath all that's holy."

End Part III

Part 4/?

~*~*~*~*
UNKNOWN LOCATION
DECEMBER 21, 2000
10:00 AM
~*~*~*~*

*Fox*

Shaking his head Mulder tried to wake from his dark
nightmare. He was lost, frozen both body and spirit.

*Fox wake up! Fox!*

"Ummm...tryin' ta sleep Sam..."

*Wake up Fox! She needs you Fox!*

Shaking he opened his eyes not to the darkness he was
sure he would find, but to a soft glow of candlelight. The
sickening sweet scent of Frankincense and Myrrh still
lingered in the dank air, a ghost of fear.

Beneath him he could feel rough wood against his bare
back and shoulders. Prickles of sharpness that sent jolts
of discomfort with the slightest movement. 

The cross.

He was bound to a cross.

A soft whimper from nearby forced him to turn his head,
the muscles in his neck shrieking. At first he didn't see
anything, then his eyes began to adjust to the shadows.

"...oh, god...scully," he felt bile rising in his throat.

She sat on her haunches, her wrists chained to an iron
ring in the floor, her nude body shivering. Even from 
here he could see the blood staining her wrists and
ankles. What had that bastard done, he thought.

"Scully? Scully it's me...it's Mulder."

Shifting her weight, she peered through the veil of
her tangled hair, her eyes wide and wet.

"Mu...mul...mulder?" Her voice was low and raspy.

Mulder bit down on his lip fighting the tears that 
pressed against the back of his eyes. "Yeah...it's
me Scully."

"Mulder...," his name was almost a sigh. "I thought
he had...he had killed you." Scully tried to push the
hair from her face as she shifted again.

This time he caught a glimpse of bruised flesh at
the curve of her hip, another on the pale flesh of
her breast. 

"Scully what did he do?" His words came out in
a raspy breath as he tugged against the bindings
at his wrists. "What did he do?!" 

Scully shook her head at the desperate sound
of Mulder's words. "Nothing Mulder...I...I'm
fine...," her last word faded to a whisper.

"You son of a bitch! You fucking bastard!!" 

"Hush son."

Mulder turned tear filled eyes to the voice he had
learned to hate over the last twenty-four hours. The
bastard was so calm, so sure of himself as if nothing
could touch him.

"It will be okay. You do know that don't you my
son?" Ingalles studied him with a sorrowful expression.

"Bastard!" Mulder spit at the mad man, his eyes now
filled with fire. "Why are you doing this? How did you
get out of that prison?!"

"I didn't. Haven't you figured that out by now?"

Scully looked up at Ingalles from beneath her hair, her
expression matching it's fiery color.

"You knew you son of a bitch! You knew I would 
come back if you killed Jason!"

Ingalles turned towards her his eyes glowing with
a confident madness. "Of course I did Mary."

~*~*~*~*
MARRIOTT HOTEL
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
APRIL 20, 1990
~*~*~*~*

Laying on her back Scully studied the pale cream
ceiling tiles as Jason lay sleeping next to her. She
had no idea what she was going to say to Jason.

Turning her head she smiled softly at his sleeping
visage, so innocent in that restful place of dreams.

He had been through so much, just as she had. How
could she hurt him like this, she thought. The way he 
touched her was proof enough that he was falling in
love with her, but there was no way she could allow
this. 

Rolling over she disentangled her bare legs from the 
tangled sheets, her eyes drifting back to the long lean
line of Jason's back. With trembling fingers she reached
for her bag pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Nervously
she rolled the pack between her fingers, then ripped it
open with a faint sigh. She hadn't had a cigarette since
her residency, then she had seen the crime scene photos.

It had went down hill from that point.

The sharp ring of the bedside phone brought her back 
to the present as she lit the cigarette.

"Dana...," Jason rolled over, blinking his eyes.

"Shhh...I'll get it Jason."

Lifting the handset she smiled over at him as he ran his
fingers through his tousled hair.

"Scully."

"Does he know?"

She froze at the sound of Ingalles voice, the sudden 
need for nicotine rising.

"I ask you if he knows."

"What?" 

"That you my lovely girl are nothing, but a common 
whore."

"How the hell did you get this number?" She hissed, 
her fingers tightening around the cold plastic.

"Does it really matter? All that matters is that I know."

"Who is it Dana?" Jason's hand caressed her shoulder.

"Give me a second alone Jason."

"But Dana...what is it?" He paled as she pulled back 
from his touch.

"Jason...please...just a few minutes." Scully laid the 
phone down, her hand coming up to caress his cheek. 
"It's okay Jason...I just need some privacy."

Nodding he gathered the sheet around his waist, then
headed for the bathroom. As soon as the door shut 
she grabbed Jason's discarded shirt pulling it over her 
shivering body. Eyes fixed on the phone she lifted it to 
her ear.

"Ingalles?"

"Yes?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

"Why using the one phone call I'm allowed before I 
enter the hell you saw fit to put me in."

"No. No, you did this to yourself. You killed those 
people I didn't," her heart was pounding against the 
cage of her ribs. "You reap what you sow...isn't that 
right?"

"Yes, Mary you do."

Then the line went dead.

~*~*~*~*
POLICE HEADQUARTERS
WARRENTON, ILLINOIS
12:05 PM
~*~*~*~*

Skinner pulled his glasses off, thumb and forefinger 
rubbing the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in
his chair. No matter how much he threw himself into
the evidence he couldn't erase the look in Megan
Devereux's eyes. He had witnessed to many versions
of that look over the years.

Sheer terror.

"What were you trying to tell me Megan? Where is
that bastard."

"Sir?"

He smiled at the young woman standing in front of 
him, her arms loaded with files. Eliza Sheffield still
had the fresh face of a recent graduate of Quantico.

"Agent Sheffield what did you find out."

Clearing her throat she sat her load on the table, then
settled into the chair across from Skinner.

"There are approximately five to six hundred locations
in the upper state of Illinois that include the word 'holy'. 
Of those one to two hundred are within a reasonable
distance of Warrenton."

"What about the other people involved in the Ingalles
case?"

Eliza leaned forward extracting a thick file folder from
the stack. 

"Of the original team only Jamie Perez, Justin Farmer,
Theresa Duvall, then of course Megan Devereux and
Dana Scully are still alive." Her soft grey eyes drifted
to his face. "I understand that Dana is one of your 
agents sir."

"She is and a damn good one as well as her partner.
Can you tell me where Farmer and Duvall are?"

"Farmer retired from the Warrenton police shortly
after the close of the Ingalles case. He and his family
moved to San Francisco where he teaches Ethics in
Law at Berkeley. Duvall is now the Assistant to the
Head Medical Examiner for the City of Denver in
Colorado."

Skinner took in the information, digesting it slowly
as he stood pacing the length of the small room.

"What about the others? The ones who have died."

"That's what is so strange sir. They have all died 
within the last two years."

"Two years? Ingalles was executed two years ago."

"Lyssa McGowan, the public defender assigned to
Ingalles was shot during a failed carjacking. Brad
Andrews, the arresting officer was found in his
bathtub, an apparent suicide. Charles Richardson
the lead medical examiner died in a skiing accident
during a trip in the Swiss Alps."

"What about the judge?" Skinner paused to pour
himself a cup of coffee.

"Erickson? He was killed in a botched bank robbery
just..."

"Six months ago?"

Eliza scanned the page in her hand. "How did you
know that?"

"Two a year for the past two years. Ingalles' partner
was cleaning house."

~*~*~*~*
UNKNOWN LOCATION
12:15 PM
~*~*~*~*

Ingalles had left almost two hours before. His exit had
left a huge vacuum of silence in the candlelit darkness.

Somehow Scully knew that she had to get Ingalles to
release Mulder. She was the one he wanted, she always
had been since that moment in the hotel room ten years
ago in Chicago. Perhaps she should have told Jason what
had happened, but she never had. Now he was dead, his
wife a babbling mess and her...well she was where he had
wanted her along with her partner.

Gnawing at her nails, she contemplated the situation. If
only she had been strong enough to do this on her own,
then Mulder would have been safe in DC.

"He raped you."

Glancing up through her tangled hair she met Mulder's
gaze, her breath catching at the guilt swimming there in
the dark depths.

"Mulder...," she paused swallowing hard, "...it's not
your fault. Don't blame yourself."

He turned away, but not before she saw the glaze of
tears unshed.

"I...I'm your partner. I'm suppose to watch your back."

"God dammit Mulder! Enough with the guilt riddled
bullshit. This has nothing to do with you, sometimes 
the past comes back to haunt even the best of us."

"She is right my son. Even the blackest tongue might
speak the truth on occasion."

Ingalles stood watching them from the wavering 
shadows. Slowly he moved into the light Scully's
eyes catching the glint of the hammer in his hand.

"Don't...James don't do this to him. It's me you've
wanted...always me." She yanked at the chains in
a fury. "He is an innocent."

"Of course he is dear. Our saviour is and always
shall be an innocent. His pain brings our release
from our sins."

Mulder's eyes grew wide as Ingalles lifted a 
pouch from his belt emptying the contents on
the table next to the cross. Iron nails, crudely
fashioned, but razor sharp. Panic sat in as the
man pulled a handkerchief from his pocket,
slowly folding it neatly.

Shaking his head he began to howl, his voice
being overcast by Scully's screams. Ingalles
leaned over forcing the folded material between 
his lips, lifting his head to tug it tightly, muffling
his screams.

"Bastard! Let him go! Don't! Don't!" Now the
metal was shredding her wrists as she fought 
like a caged tiger.

"One of the seven angels who had the seven
bowls came and said to me, 'Come, I will show
you the punishment of the great prostitute, who 
sits on many waters..."

He lifted one of the iron nails caressing it as if
it were the flesh of a lover, his eyes glittering.

"...With her the kings of the earth committed
adultery and the inhabitants of the earth were
intoxicated with the wine of her adulteries."

Lowering the point to Mulder's left wrist he
then lifted the hammer.

"Then the angel carried me away in the Spirit
into a desert. There I saw a woman sitting on
a scarlet beast that was covered with blasphe-
mous names and had seven heads and ten horns."

The hammer came down in a quick motion 
sending the nail through Mulder's wrist, blood
spraying across Ingalles' face in a fine spray. His
smile widened as Mulder's back bowed in pain,
his muffled screams echoing through the room.

Scully howled in pain as if it were her own wrist
that was pined to the rough wood. Tears blurred
her vision as he moved around Mulder's writhing
body another nail clenched between his long pale
fingers.

"The woman was dressed in purple and scarlet...,"
he paused to gaze at Scully's pale face encircled
by her tangled scarlet hair, the pale blossom of
purpled bruises against her skin.

The second nail found it's mark.

Mulder's eyes glazed over in shock as he met
Scully's tear filled gaze. His own tears glittering
in the pale golden light, the scent of fresh blood
filling his nose.

"Mystery...Babylon the great...the mother of
all prostitutes...and of the abominations of the
earth," Ingalles intoned as he walked to where
Mulder's ankles were bound. Foot over foot.

The third nail tore through flesh, muscle and
bone with a sicking wet crunch.

Darkness claimed her moments after it had 
claimed Mulder.

~*~*~*~*
POLICE HEADQUARTERS
WARRENTON, ILLINOIS
1:35 PM
~*~*~*~*

"AD Skinner!"

Perez came roaring through the mass of bodies,
a plastic evidence bag clutched in his hand, his
coat flapping around his ankles.

"Yes, Agent Perez," he stood from the table
meeting the man halfway.

"Father O'Reily at the Holy Revelation Church
found this in his mail this morning. I thought
you needed to see it immediately."

Skinner moved back to the table pulling out a
fresh pair of latex gloves. Pulling the envelope
from the baggie he turned it over in unsteady
hands. Standard legal size, unsealed, his name
neatly printed in block letters. Opening the
envelope he pulled free a folded sheet of 
creamy parchment.

"What is it, sir?" Sheffield moved closer, her
pale grey eyes taking in everything.

Shaking his head he gently unfolded the 
parchment. Attached to the paper was two
large pieces of hair, one red, one chestnut
brown. Skinner felt his throat close as he
began to read the letters neatly written with
what he assumed was a calligraphy pen.

"Come out of her, my people,
so that you will not share in her sins,
so that you will not receive any of her plagues;
for her sins are piled up to heaven, and God has
remembered her crimes."

"Revelations 4:18 and 5:18."

Skinner caught Sheffield's gaze across the table
with a questioning look.

"Catholic school, sir. Chapter 18 is the fall of
Babylon in Revelations."

"The hair does it belong to them?" Perez looked
down at the strands.

"Yes," whispered Skinner, "...it is."

End Part IV

Part 5/?

~*~*~*~*
UNKNOWN LOCATION
6:45 PM
~*~*~*~*

She woke to the feel of cool porcelain, her body 
shivering due to what she thought was a dream at
first. Slowly the memories came back, the pain
that infused her body with the simple knowledge
that she hadn't been able to save her partner.

Rolling over she vomited.

There was little in her stomach other than bile, 
but she continued to heave until her ribs ached 
and her throat burned. Blinking back tears she 
managed to struggle into a sitting position the 
chains that held her wrists and ankles clattering 
against the tile floor.

The room she sat in was small, almost hospital
clean in it's brightness. A tub filled with steaming
water sat across the room on clawed feet, a 
testament to the fact her captor had not been 
gone long. Next to it sat a small card table a lone
box sitting in it's center. The only other item was
a toilet along the wall on which she leaned.

Breath Dana, breath, she thought. There has got to
be away out of here, out of this nightmare.

Pulling herself to her feet she stumbled to the toilet
relieving herself as quickly as possible, praying the
bastard wasn't that big of a pervert. Her eyes drifted
to the box that seemed to taunt her with it's presence.

Play his game, she thought. What did she have to lose
at this point? Nothing really, she concluded and if it
got her to Mulder so be it. 

"God please let him be alive...please," she whispered. 

Shuffling across the room she reached the table, her
hands shaking as she reached for the box. For what
seemed an eternity she stared at it almost to terrified
to discover it's contents. Finally she took in a sharp
breath, tugging at it's lid until it fell open, it's contents
spilling out over the table.

A robe.

A simple robe of the deepest purple she had ever
seen, almost black. There was also what appeared
to be a shawl of sheer white muslin, a bar of soap,
a wash cloth and a towel.

Setting aside each item she came to the bottom of
the box and the final item. A sheet of parchment
folded neatly and sealed with a wax stamp.

With one finger she broke the seal, then unfolded
the sheet, her eyes studying the refined strokes of
the pen.

'For the wedding of the Lamb has come,
and his bride has made herself ready.
Fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear.'

Dropping the note her fingers returned to the robe,
caressing the fabric, noting the seams. Lifting it she
turned it right side out realizing the purple, the color
of the whore, was the lining the outside was a brilliant
white to match the shawl.

One more deep breath and she closed her eyes, then
grabbed the soap.

"Play his game Dana," she whispered, stepping into
the tub.

~*~*~*~*
POLICE HEADQUARTERS
WARRENTON, ILLINOIS
8:00 PM
~*~*~*~*

Skinner stood staring out into the darkness, his head
throbbing. He had sent the hair to the forensic lab in
Chicago, but he really didn't need the verification. He
had no doubt that it belonged to Mulder and Scully.

The past six hours he had spent reading over the book
of Revelation trying to get some clue, any clue to who
this bastard was and what he wanted. Knowing weird-
ness followed Mulder like a shadow he had even pulled
a few favors and somewhere outside Warrenton they
were exhuming James Ingalles' grave.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Sheffield?"

"Would you like some coffee?" 

Turning he forced a weak smile to his lips at the worried
expression on the young agent's face.

"Of course."

Moving back to the table he began to page through the
bible that sat open. There had to be something here he
was just missing it. If only Mulder were here all these
odd pieces would fit.

Just as he were ready to give up his eye caught a line
of text. Within chapter three...the messages to the final
three churches.

To the Church in Philadelphia.

'These are the words of him who is holy and true, who
holds the key of David. What he opens no one can 
shut, and what he shuts no one can...'

"...open," Skinner spoke out loud.

"What is it, sir?" Sheffield handed him his coffee.

"Where was Ingalles from?"

"Philadelphia I believe. Why?" Her brow crinkled
as she sipped at her lukewarm coffee.

"Was he a priest there?"

Shuffling through her notes she ran her fingers through
her dark hair. "Yes...yes he was. He was originally
located in a parish in a suburb of Philadelphia."

"What year?" Skinner was skimming over the verses
now, his heart pounding. He was close so fucking
close he could taste it.

"January of 1957 until February of 1960. He was 
fresh out of the seminary. He was suddenly transferred
to a parish in California without any explanation."

"Dammit!" Skinner slammed his fist into the table,
coffee splashing across the scarred wood. "Something
happen in Philadelphia in 1960. I need you to contact
the church officials there. I don't care how, but I want
that information."

"Yes, sir!" Sheffield was on the phone immediately.

"I know your deeds. See, I have placed before you an 
open door that no one can shut," Skinner read out loud,
his breath catching in his throat. "I know you have little
strength, yet you have kept my word and have not 
denied my name." 

Why hadn't he seen it before?

"Sheffield!"

He knew he had terrified the poor woman enough, but
he couldn't help it.

"Yes, sir?"

"I think we're looking for a woman, a young girl who
became pregnant around the time Ingalles was transferred
to California." He sighed as those words passed his lips.

God be with them, he thought.
 
~*~*~*~*
UNKNOWN LOCATION
8:15 PM
~*~*~*~*

Pain.

His world was pain, fire and brimstone.

Mulder tried to open his eyes, but they felt so heavy. Like
lead weights shuttering his senses from what awaited him
beyond the darkness.

"Awake my son. Open your eyes and see the truth."

A shudder rippled through his body as he fought to open
his eyes, his breath rattling in his chest.

Ingalles stood mere inches from him, looking down with
such sorrow in his watery eyes. "I fear for you my son. If
only you could see the error of your ways."

"...sc..scullee," he moaned, licking his cracked lips.

"Mary is preparing for her penitence."

"Bastard...you...hurt her." He tried to turn his head, but
dark spots danced along the edge of his vision. Fire
ripped through his arms as he blinked back tears. His
breath caught in his throat as his eyes settled on his
outstretched arm, blood thick and clotted around the
spike that held him fast to the cross.

A memory tore through the veil of fire that engulfed 
his body. Ingalles drawing back the hammer, pain 
like nothing he had ever experienced shattering his
wrists. 

"...please...please let her go," he moaned tears welling
over his lashes, trickling down to disappear into the 
matted hair along his temple.

"I can not, my son."

He watched through hooded eyes as Ingalles walked
around him disappearing somewhere behind his head.

"Forgive me Father...Lord of all Lords for what I do."

Suddenly the cross jerked upward, the sound of grinding
metal filling Mulder's ears as he began to scream. Shattered
bones ground together as his weight shifted, his vision
graying out as he felt warm blood begin to seep up around 
the wounds in his wrists.

"Son of the Father...Bringer of Light. You must suffer the
sins of your Father's children. Save us from temptation."

With one last howl the darkness unfolded around Mulder.

~*~*~*~*

As Scully slipped the robe over her still damp skin she
jerked upright at the sound of distant agony.

A scream so sharp it shattered her heart.

"Mulder!" His name exploded from her lips as she fell
to her knees. "MULDER!!"

Collapsing into herself as the screams faded, she folded
her hands in prayer.

"Our Father...who art in he...heaven," she gasp through
trembling lips, "...hal...hallowed be thy...thy name."

Tears fell staining the brilliant white of the robe.

"...please dear Lord...save him from the darkness," her
words were almost child like as they flowed over her
dust dry lips. "If ever I needed you hear me now."

~*~*~*~*
POLICE HEADQUARTERS
WARRENTON, ILLINOIS
10:45 PM
~*~*~*~*

Jerking awake Skinner rubbed his exhausted eyes,
trying to remove grit from his lashes. He had fallen
asleep over the pages of the bible that seemed his
only hope of finding Mulder and Scully.

Another sharp ring sent him fumbling through his
coat pockets for his cell.

"Skinner!"

"Sir, it's Agent Perez."

"Where the hell have you been?" He was annoyed
with this little bastard. Since he had announced he 
was in charge of the investigation Perez had made 
himself scarce.

"The coroner's office, sir. Ingellas' coffin was opened
a few moments ago."

"And?"

"Something was missing."

"Something? Ingalles' body?" Skinner sat up rolling
his neck, popping the tight muscles.

"No, sir. His body was still there, but his head was
missing."

"His head?!"

"Yes, sir. The local pathologist is taking a look at 
the body now, but it appears the head was removed
sometime ago."

"Thank you for the call Perez. As soon as the coroner
has some information please contact me."

"Yes, sir."

The line went dead with a snap leaving Skinner staring
at the phone in his hand.

Why the hell would someone want Ingalles' head?

Swallowing back nausea he stood grabbing his coat, 
then headed for the door. Just as he was about to 
close the door he glanced back at the table. Maybe,
he thought, the answer still lay in the bible.

Moving back to the table he grabbed the bible.

It was here, he knew it. 

All the answers.

Turning he left wondering what Sheffield might
have found out about Philadelphia. 

~*~*~*~*
UNKNOWN LOCATION
12:00 AM
~*~*~*~*

Scully woke at the sound of the door opening,
her body aching from the long sleep on the
cold tile floor. For a moment she could have
sworn it wasn't Ingalles standing there in the 
door, but someone else.

Someone who seemed familiar.

"Mary it is time," Ingalles held out his hand.

Taking those pale fingers she allowed herself
to be pulled to her feet.

"Time?" She studied the calm expression in
his pale eyes. 

Nodding Ingalles turned, guiding her out
into a candlelit hall. Shadows danced along
damp earthen walls reminding her of the 
pictures of the catacombs beneath Paris.

"An excellent analogy Mary. These tunnels
though were created during the Civil War.
The priests of this parish helped with the
smuggling of slaves to the North."

"How did you know what I was thinking?"

A smile teased at the corners of his mouth.

"When I was transferred here I decided to
learn as much as I could of the church. I
was lucky in that the only other who knew 
of this place was another priest, Father
DuQuion was born and raised here. When
I entered this parish he was a ninety years
old."

"You still didn't tell me...,"

"I am the messenger." 

His words sent a chill through her soul, but
what she saw next tore her insides apart.

The cross now hung from the ceiling of the
chamber, candles surrounding it in a hallow
of fire. Candlelight shimmered across
Mulder's pale skin, highlighting the muscles
drawn taunt beneath with flickering shadows.

"Oh...my god," she choked as she moved
forward, "...please god free him." Collapsing
at the foot of the cross she quickly made the 
sign of cross.

"Beautiful is he not?"

Her eyes lifted of their own will despite the
fear that clouded her thoughts. His head lay
slumped across one shoulder, a crown of
thorns resting on his sweat soaked brow.

"Why?" She whispered.

"To save the world...to protect his name."

All she could see was Mulder's face, pale
and damp, dark circles beneath his eyes.

He was alive, she thought, as his lashes
fluttered against his bruised skin.

Nothing seemed to register, but her partner,
the man she loved more than life itself. Even
as Ingalles chained her to the floor where 
she knelt. As the lock clicked into place she
noticed something else in front of her.

A skull.

Strips of flesh still clinging to the smooth
ivory.

"Who?" The words barely passed her lips
when she heard his laughter. Looking up
into who she had thought was Ingalles' face
she suppressed a gasp.

"Surprised?" He whispered.

"It can't be...it just can't," her eyes widened.

Before her the image she had began to hate
shimmered like heat on summer tarmac. Eyes
changing as a whisper of mist rose from the 
tall lean body.

"He was right you know. You are the reincarnation
of Mary Magdelen. The time is near and I must
finish the work we interrupted."

"Why? God damn you why?"

"Because he was and will ever be my father."

Insane laughter filled the room as father and son
separated into two. One very much human and 
the other a spirit escaped from the flames of hell
itself.

End Part V

Part 6/6
 
~*~*~*~*
DRURY INN
ROOM 210
WARRENTON, ILLINOIS
10:05 AM
~*~*~*~*

The persistent buzzing of his cell phone pulled Skinner
from the darkest of nightmares into the dim reality of
his hotel room. Rolling over he fumbled until his fingers 
wrapped around the cool plastic, punching the talk button
he let out a string of curses as he knocked his glasses off
the night stand.

"Skinner!"

"Sir...I'm sorry to disturb you, but I discovered the 
information you needed. At least I discovered part of
it." Sheffield's voice was filled with exhaustion.

"What is it?" Leaning over he scooped his glasses up from
the carpet, settling them on the bridge of his nose.

"You were right, sir. Ingalles had an affair with a sixteen
year old girl that resulted in her pregnancy. The affair was
discovered by the young girl's parents when she confessed
she was pregnant. In the beginning she refused to acknowledge
who the father was, but her father had some powerful friends."

"What happened?"

"He hired a private detective to follow his daughter. The 
detective was able to produce some damning photos of 
the girl with Ingalles. Apparently when the photos were 
shown to her father he went straight to the archdiocese
and demanded they get rid of Father Ingalles or he was 
going to turn the photos over to the cops, not to mention
the media. The result of that meeting was Ingalles' transfer
to California."

Skinner moved to the dresser, studying his reflection. Running
his palm along his jaw he thought of the sickness that Ingalles
had visited on an innocent. If only it had stopped there, but he
was allowed to continue on resulting in the deaths of eight
people almost thirty years later. 

"What happened to the girl?"

"She was sent to live with relatives in Boston. Two months 
later on March 17,1960 she gave birth to a healthy baby boy
who was given up for adoption."

"Who adopted him?"

"The records are sealed, sir."

"I need that information," yanking open his briefcase he 
retrieved his address book, "...I need you to place a call
to 617-555-9295. Ask for Devlynn Cavanaugh, she's an
old friend and a judge, she owes me a favor. Tell her
Walter ask you to call. If she has a problem have her call 
me on my cell."

Before Sheffield could reply he hung up.

~*~*~*~*
UNKNOWN LOCATION
10:15 AM
~*~*~*~*

Hours had passed or perhaps it had been days. Scully had
lost all concept of time...of reality.

All there was, all there could be was his pain.

His pain.

Her guilt.

Nothing else to nourish her, but the dregs of her splintered
faith. 

Through chapped lips the words of childhood escaped with
each agonized beat of her heart. With the final wisps of her
fading strength she desperately gathered those splinters
trying to fit it all together again.

So many doubts.

"Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done..." 

Was this his will?

How could he allow this if he truly existed?

"DAMN YOU!" She screamed into the writhing shadows.

There were no more tears to shed, only her anger at a being
she had wasted her faith on. There was no God there couldn't
be, for how could a creator abandon his child in her hour of
need?

"You bastard," she whispered, "...don't do this. Don't take
him from me." With those few angry words her eyes drifted
upward to where her soul was slowly slipping away.

So pale, she thought, I'm so sorry Mulder.

"Do you weep for him my child or do you weep for yourself?"

She refused to meet his eyes. Eyes she had known once 
long ago in another lifetime...

~*~*~*~*
HACIENDA TECALITLAN
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
APRIL 21, 1990
~*~*~*~*

"What's wrong Dana?"

Glancing up from her plate she met Jamie Perez's warm
coco eyes. She hadn't really liked him much in the beginning,
but now...well he had grown on her. He was a family man
and he had understood her loneliness at being so far from her's
during the Ingalles investigation.

"I made a mistake Jamie." She was shocked by her own words.

Settling down in the chair across the table he waved over the 
waiter ordering a Corona from the bar. "Would you like 
anything Dana?"

She shook her head, poking at the remains of her vegetarian
fajita. Why was she doing this, she wondered? 

"Is it Jason?"

Give Agent Perez a cookie for incredible insight, she thought,
smiling at the way he leaned in studying her face. "Yes...I...we
have a...," was relationship the right word?

"You're lovers," he blurted out as the waiter returned.

Her eyebrow rose skyward. "How?"

Laughing he tipped back the beer, taking a deep swallow.

"Please don't tell me everyone knows." She slid the plate
to the side.

"Nope, but then again I'm a little more observant than these
other hacks." Jamie waved towards a small group of fellow
agents that stood near the fountain laughing as they toasted
the conviction. "Jason is an open book has been since he 
came to the Chicago Bureau. He thinks he's in love..."

"...and I'm not," she finished. Catching the waiter's eye she 
ordered a margarita. "I'm going back to Quantico. I was 
offered a teaching position in forensics...it's a wonderful
opportunity for me."

They sat silently for a few minutes the sound of the mariachi
band drifting over the flow of the fountain. Such a beautiful
place and here she was bemoaning the fact she had to push a
wonderful man away. She should be enjoying the atmosphere,
not sulking.

"Introduce him to Megan. She's hot for him...has been since
the beginning."

Leaning back she smiled.

~*~*~*~*
POLICE HEADQUARTERS
WARRENTON, ILLINOIS
11:45 AM
~*~*~*~*

Strolling through the bustling crowd of felons and officers
Skinner almost ran into Sheffield as his phone rang.

"Sorry agent," he mumbled as he flipped open the phone.
"Skinner!" He barked hoping it was Perez with news from
the coroner.

"Is that anyway to greet an old friend," a soft sultry voice
whispered in his ear.

"Devlynn," a warm blush tinged the tops of his ears as that
voice brought back less than appropriate memories.

"What is this I hear about you wanting a favor?"

"I need those records Dev and you owe me."

"Don't worry Walter I always pay my debts in full. I
have them right here. Do you have access to a fax?"

"Yes...let's see," he stepped into the office heading for
the fax, "...618...555...0219."

"They're on the way sweetie."

As the first page began to print a sigh of relief escaped
his lungs. "We're even now Dev."

"Oh, no we are not," she laughed softly.

"What the hell are you...,"

"Now Walter hon' don't get those tighty whities in a
bunch. I'm going to be in DC around the end of January
and expect you and I to have lunch. A nice one and you
can give me the grand tour of the Hoover. Maybe even
a private tour of your office."

A flush crept across his cheeks as he began to laugh.

"Chow Walter, mi amore."

Devlynn never changed, he thought, as he tucked the
cell into the inside pocket of his coat. Reaching out he
grabbed the sheaf of papers that had finished printing.

"Sir, Perez just called. He says that he discovered 
something."

Settling down in the chair he flipped over the papers to
begin reading. "What did he say?"

Sheffield cleared her throat. "He thinks he knows where
they are...Scully and Mulder."

"Where?" His eyes jerked up from the papers.

"Holy Spirit Church, sir." She nervously shifted from foot
to foot.

"The forensic team tore that place apart...how in the hell
could they possibly be...," his words drifted as she held
up a leather bound journal.

"Perez had this couriered over this morning. Apparently
Jason Devereux was still doing some investigating into
the Ingalles case as recent as six months ago. This was 
in his personal effects at his office in Chicago."

Taking the book Skinner flipped open the cover coming
to a random page and began to read out loud.

"...it isn't over not by a long shot. I can't let him rest, he
did to much evil in this world. His secret place has been
discovered. How could we have missed it all those years
ago? Tunnels. Beneath his home, the place where he 
brought his victims over and over. Where he murdered
Debbie, the first woman I ever loved.
Why does he haunt me? Even here and now."

Skinner paused studying Sheffield's pale face as she fidgeted
with file folders and pencils.

"...the study beneath the window seat. So simple, yet we 
never saw it. Why would we?"  He sat the journal down. "Who
else knows about this?"

"Just Perez and me. He told me to keep it quite."

"I'm sure he did." His eyes drifted down to the adoption records.

"I want the main investigative team in here in fifteen minutes."

"Sir?"

"Don't think just get it done. We're going to Holy Spirit, we're
getting my agents and I'm going to kill that son of bitch with my
bare hands," he hissed through clenched teeth.

~*~*~*~*
BENEATH HOLY SPIRIT CHURCH
DECEMBER 24, 2000
12:30 PM 
~*~*~*~*

Pain rippled across his body as he looked down from 
his lofty prison. She knelt at his feet, a veil of white 
leaving her face in shadow. He could hear the whispered 
plea of her words as she prayed to her God...a God that 
ceased to exist for him years ago when he had lost his 
reason for being. 

"Hear me Father...spare his life. Help me find a way to 
save him from this."

He had never heard her like this before, not even when 
she lay dying of the cancer as it ate her body away, her 
very soul.

The sound of shattered bones grinding together as he 
weakly struggled to free himself sent chills down his spine. 

He had lost all feeling in his hands and feet hours ago so 
he was grateful for the shock. 

Metal grinding against bone, against shredded flesh. 

The spikes that held him to the wooden limbs of the crude 
cross had marked him for life, even if he escaped this place 
he would carry the marks for the rest of his life.

Fire rippled up his side as he took ragged breaths through 
the rag that gagged him. When Ingalles or whoever he was 
had tired of his screams he had shoved the rag in his mouth
silencing them.

With blurry eyes he watched as the bastard came close a
long wooden spear in his hands. The sharpened metal tip
glinting in the dim candlelight.

"The final wound...the wound that will send you to the
bowels of hell to release him. So shall the Harrowing
of Hell begin and the first seal will be broken. So says 
the Lord almighty."

Lifting the spear he held it to Mulder's side, his eyes shining
with a fevered reverence.

"I watched as the Lamb opened the first of the seven seals.
Then I heard one of the four living creatures say in a voice
like thunder, 'Come!' I looked, and there before me was
a white horse! It's rider held a bow, and he was given a
crown, and he rode out as a conqueror bent on conquest."

The blade slid across Mulder's rib cage, then down into
the flesh beneath his pale skin. He screamed louder than 
he thought possible as fire exploded in his body.  

"Stop it! Stop it! You sick fucker...oh, Jesus he can't take 
any more. You twisted son of a bitch!" Scully screamed
as she pulled at the chain that bound her to the concrete. 
"He isn't the one who did it! I did! God, please it's me you 
want...not him!"

"Hush Mary...," the spears blade ripped another muffled 
shriek from Mulder's lungs.

"I am not Mary! Why can't you understand that!?"

"But you are my love...my sweet arrogant whore."

 ~*~*~*~*
HOLY SPIRIT CHURCH
DECEMBER 24, 2000
12:30 PM 
~*~*~*~*

They had entered the church heading straight for where
Ingalles' study had been. Slowly they had began to work 
their way through the room, but Skinner headed straight
for the window that faced out onto the snow covered
field behind the church.

"It's here...I know it," he mumbled as he knelt in the
dusty floor peering at the intricate woodwork. "Dammit
Sheffield help me!"

Kneeling next to him she began to run her fingers beneath
the window seat. "What would he use, sir?"

"Use?" Skinner turned to her.

"Ingalles was a biblical scholar...an intelligent man by all
accounts. A lock to his 'home' would have some meaning 
would it not?" Her dark eyes studied him, searching for
some hope.

"His speciality was apocalyptic prophecy wasn't it?" Skinner
frowned in concentration. Over the last two days he had
read and reread the Book of Revelations. The answer was
there he just had to see it, recognize it.

His eyes drifted over the intricate pictographs...something
about the second coming, about the lord on...

"Revelations 7:11!" He cried. "All the angels were standing
around the throne and around the elders and the four living
creatures. They fell down on their faces before the throne
and worshiped God..."  

In the center of the seats base was a throne, a figure seated
with a lamb at it's feet and four angels. Two on either side
holding palm leaves as if to shelter the throned figure.

"It's the angels! Sheffield on the count of three push at the
two angels on your side."

Pressing his fingers to the figures he began to count.

"One...two...three!"

Together they pressed all four angel figures in tandem. There
was a shriek of wood against stone as the entire front opened
out like two doors, the seat lifting upward.

"Son of a bitch," gasp one of the silent crowd of stunned agents.

A set of  stone stairs descended down into the darkness, 
disappearing from view. Standing Skinner yelled for a flashlight,
then started down, Sheffield close behind. As they slipped into 
the shadows a muffled scream echoed off the damp walls sending
them running down the stairs.

~*~*~*~*

Mulder shrieked one final time his head falling forward as blood
poured down his side, dripping onto the makeshift altar.

"God please no!" Screamed Scully as she yanked desperately
on the chain. Her wrists were bloody and bruised, but she 
didn't give a damn. All she wanted to do was kill that son of
a bitch for taking her best friend from her.

"Stop FBI!"

Scully turned at the sound of Walter Skinner's roar as he 
appeared out of the darkness like an avenging angel. His
gun was steady and aimed for the back of the bastard's
head.

"Sir! Please help him...please! Help Mulder!" 

All it took was a split second, but for Scully time itself
seemed to slow. Skinner turned to her as Sheffield knelt
picking the lock on the cuffs. Her jailer turned swinging
the spear around aiming it at the AD's chest.

Every agent in the room swung their weapon around, but
it was a gun that fired from the shadowed stairwell that
brought the madman to his knees. Skinner turned just as
he lifted the spear again, blood soaking his shoulder.

"You shall not stop the Apocalypse! You are just a man!"

"So are you," growled Skinner his bullet hitting it's mark,
sending the bastard's body slamming face first into the 
concrete floor. 

Skinner stood staring down at the lifeless body as the
EMT's were ushered into the room. Slowly the cross
was lowered to the ground, the shouts of the agents
not drowning out Scully's sobbing as she knelt next
to Mulder, calling his name. Swearing she would kill him
if he died on her.

"Good shot," he spoke to the agent next to him.

"Not really...considering I was aiming for the fucker's
head."

Jamie Perez knelt in the floor rolling over the limp body,
tears staining his face as he looked into wide lifeless
eyes. 

The eyes of his boss.

Jason Devereux.

~*~*~*~*
MT. SINAI HOSPITAL
EMERGENCY ROOM
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
9:00 PM
~*~*~*~*

Drifting through the waiting room Skinner sighed, popping
the stiff muscles in his neck and shoulders. Four hours of
paperwork and more questions than he had the patience
to answer. He was exhausted, just fucking worn out and all
he could think of was Mulder.

Nails.

Devereux had nailed him to a fucking cross just like Ingalles
had done to his victims ten years ago. He supposed though
like father...like son. The Bureau was going to have a hell
of a PR problem in the morning when the smoke cleared.

Around four he had excused himself and called the hospital
demanding an update on his agents. At the time Mulder had
still been in surgery and there was no news. 

No news was good news, he thought, as he approached the 
nurses station.

Flashing his badge, he cleared his throat. "Assistant Director
Walter Skinner I'm looking for..."

"...your two agents that were brought in this afternoon," the
greying nurse smiled sadly at him.

Oh, my God Mulder was dead was his first thought.

"Dana Scully is in intensive care. Let me show you to her
room. Jenn could you...," she nodded to the young nurse
at the computer.

"Of course Margie."

Silently Margie led him down the hall to the elevators. On the
ride up the silence continued until he had the urge to interrogate
the nurse under bright lights.

When the doors opened she stepped out leading him to the end
of the hall again. Pausing she turned to him with a soft nod.

"She's been sedated, so if she seems a little disoriented don't
worry. After all she's been through...I mean the rape...her
poor partner..."

"Rape?" Skinner choked out.

Her eyes widened. "You didn't know? Goodness I'm sorry. I
was told you had been informed of her condition."

"Exactly what is her condition ma'am?" He leaned into the wall
not willing to pass out in front of Margie.

"She's in psychological as well as physical shock. Dehydration,
she hasn't had food in at least three days. Both her wrists required
around eight stitches, then of course...well you know." 

Skinner felt tears burning his eyes and the back of his throat. If
that bastard was here he would kill him again, he thought.

"Can I have a moment with her...Margie?" 

The nurse smiled gently. "Of course, but make it short. She needs
her rest." Turning she walked back towards the elevators.

Taking a deep breath Skinner pushed open the door walking into
Scully's room. 

She sat in bed, pillows cushioning her head. Her eyes were focused
on the window, overlooking the lights of Chicago. Skinner stood
for a moment thinking how beautiful she was, even now in her
suffering she radiated a strength that he envied.

"If he dies it's my fault."

Jerked from his musing he looked up in to swollen eyes, red 
from crying. He was across the room in five seconds flat, finding
himself sitting on the edge of the bed, his arms encircling her
shaking body.

"No...don't ever think that Scully. He wouldn't want you to
blame yourself," his fingers lifted her chin gently. "If nothing 
else I know that for a fact."

Taking a shuddering breath she leaned back into the pillows,
closing her eyes. "They won't even let me see him."

"I'll take care of that Dana."

Her laughter was bitter as he looked on wondering if she
hadn't made it out whole. That was when he noticed she
wasn't wearing her cross. For as long as he had known 
her it had always rested against her skin, an unspoken
clue to a woman who denied the unseen, yet clung to
a faith that was in direct contradiction to her actions.

Skinner's eyes drifted to where the cross lay tangled
on the bedside table.

"Your necklace," he whispered softly.

Eyes meeting her laughter ceased. "A symbol of
fools," she answered.

He felt like crying right there beneath the harsh lights
for the entire world to see. This was a moment he 
had never thought he would witness. Dana Scully had
survived, but was empty now, her faith lost.

Suddenly he felt uncomfortable, at a lose for words.

~*~*~*~*
MT. SINAI HOSPITAL
ICU
10:00 PM
~*~*~*~*

Mulder felt himself drowning in a darkness that
was cold, yet warm at the same time.

Drifting...lost.

"Fox?"

Achingly slow he forced his eyes open to the
soft voice. A stout middle-aged nurse stood
next to the bed, her chestnut hair curling around
her plump face. His eyes drifted down to where
a glossy tag read 'Owens'.

"Don't try to speak Fox you're still on the respirator
and I know it's uncomfortable. I'm here to watch
over you...okay?"

He nodded a feeling of peace descending over his
aching body. Studying the room he could feel the
bed as it lifted up. He had no memory of how he
had gotten here, his last clear one of his captor
pushing the spear into his side, then nothing.

"Dana is close," Owens whispered against his 
cheek as though she could read his mind.

Shaking his head, he turned away from her soft
eyes.

"She needs you to live Fox. There is an important
job I need you to do."

His brows rose in question.

"You will know when it is time. Sleep now." His
eyes began to grow heavy. As the nurse's voice
faded into the drug induced ether.

"There is always a reason."

~*~*~*~*
MT. SINAI HOSPITAL
ICU WAITING ROOM
10:15 AM
~*~*~*~*
  
Pacing the long narrow room Skinner waited
for the doctor with what little patience he still
possessed. Flashing his credentials had gotten 
him no where with the staff. Apparently being
an assistant director of the FBI wasn't on the
top ten list of impressive jobs any longer.

What made him more nervous was when the
staff had headed into Mulder's room shortly
after his arrival. An alarm had went off and
suddenly they were moving as one well oiled
machine. Lifting his head his eyes settled on
a tall slim grey haired man in blue scrubs walking
towards him.

"Excuse me, doctor?"

"You must be Walter Skinner. The nurses told 
me you were quite imposing."

"Couldn't have told from their lack of response."

Laughing, the doctor offered his hand. "Dr. Phil 
Lassiter. It's nice to know our staff can even cow 
a man like you. They're used to the emotional 
outbursts and threats that can happen in such an 
emotionally charged environment."

"So...what was that all about? Is he..."

"He's fine for the moment. Mr. Mulder woke up
for the first time since he left surgery. We removed
the respirator and tried to make him more comfortable."

"Can he have visitors?" 

"Yes, but just a few minutes at a time. I understand
that his partner...," he flipped through the chart he
held, "...Dana Scully wants to see him. I can give
permission, but I think you should go in first. Speak
to him."

Skinner nodded in agreement. He wanted to be 
prepared to explain to Scully what she needed to
know. "Can I see him now?" 

"Of course, as soon as we finish up. I have to
tell you that there's a possibility Mr. Mulder
will not regain full use of his hands. His
wrists were both shattered, but thankfully the
nails missed the major arteries. There may be
nerve damage so I've called in a colleague
in neurology. The damage was also...well
miraculously...minimual to his feet. Both are
broken, but he should be able to walk again."

"You say miraculous...why?" Skinner studied
the confused expression on Lassiter's face.

Shaking his head Lassiter met his eyes. "The
damage should have been worse. When he
was airlifted in I would have thought it was
hopeless, that he would have died from shock
or at the very least been crippled for life."

~*~*~*~*
MT. SINAI HOSPITAL
ROOM 210
12:15 AM
~*~*~*~*

"Dana?"

Glancing from the darkness outside the window
she met Jamie Perez's worried eyes. He moved 
into the room, pulling a chair up to her bedside.

"Are you?" His words were overly loud in the
silent room.

"I'll be okay. It's been a long time Jamie."

"It's a shame it had to be this way."

"Who was it Jamie...who?" Her voice shook as
she asked a question she knew the answer too.

"You know who it was Dana."

A look of disbelief crossed her eyes, shimmering
like unshed tears. "I watched him laid to rest
Jamie...I saw the coffin lowered into...into..."

Grasping her hand he kissed it gently. "It was
Jason. God help me it was him...I don't want...I
didn't want to believe it."

"How?" Scully bit into her lip, tears trembling
along her lashes.

"AD Skinner he figured it out after he sent the
message to the police station. He contacted a
judge in Boston to open some sealed adoption
records from 1960. He admitted that he thought
it was me, but when I sent him Jason's journal
he didn't have a chance to check the adoption
file."

"Adoption?" She cleared her throat.

"James Ingalles had an affair with a young woman
in Philadelphia at his first parish. Jason was the
result of that affair." Perez sighed as he stood,
walking to the window. "After the trial...after you
left...Jason went through a rough time. There was
medical leave, in-depth counseling, but when Megan
came into the picture he seemed to get back on track."

"What do you think happened?"

Jamie turned back to her with a grim expression. "We
pieced together that he discovered he had been adopted
during the counseling. He apparently tracked down his 
birth mother after he married Megan. Theresa LaVelle
who was his first victim...he must have snapped then.
That was two years ago. He continued to do research 
on Ingalles after that. Three of the people involved in
the investigation and trial died over the last two years.
Jason had met with them shortly before their deaths."

Scully suddenly felt colder than she ever had before,
even more so than Antarctica. A chill that had soaked
to the depths of her soul. She hadn't wanted to believe,
but now she had no choice.

"What is it Dana?" Perez grabbed her hand squeezing
it gently.

"But they identified Jason's body." She whispered.

"He switched dental records I'm guessing. When they
found his body it was pretty torn up. They used the
dental records to do a positive ID."

"What about DNA?"

"Apparently he covered all his bases. We're trying
to identify who the man was in Jason's grave now."

"Megan?"

"She's doing better, but it's going to be a long road."

*~*~*~*
MT. SINAI HOSPITAL
ICU
12:20 AM
~*~*~*~*

For the second time tonight Skinner walked into
a hospital room, his stomach churning. He was
grateful that Mulder looked better than he had
expected.

His skin was almost as pale as the sheets beneath
him and Skinner thought he might be asleep at 
first. Standing over Mulder he took in the dark
circles beneath his eyes, the heavy bandages 
around his arms and feet. He knew Scully blamed
herself, but how could she have known.

"How is she?" 

Skinner's eyes lifted to met Mulder's dark with
sorrow and dilated with pain medication.

"Physically? Good, but mentally..."

Mulder turned away tears slipping from beneath
bruised lids. "I should have been able to protect
her...I should have stopped it."

"Why? Because you're a man? Because you're
her partner?"  Skinner pulled a chair up, settling
down with a groan of exhaustion.

"Yes...," Mulder choked out.

"You're human Mulder. We all have moments 
of weakness...moments where our destiny is
torn from our hands. There was nothing you
could have done."

"...but...but I...I should..."

"Stop taking the blame for everything that
happens," his words were firm, but filled with
care for the man who lay trembling in the bed.

Mulder blinked back tears as Skinner squeezed
his shoulder gently. "She's in there in her room
doing the same thing. Blaming herself for the pain
you're in."

"She isn't at fault sir. If anything I am for allowing
myself to be abducted by Ingalles." 

"Mulder you do realize who that man was...right?"
His eyes filled with concern as he saw the anger
flash in Mulder's eyes.

"Yes, I do. Somehow he got out of prison...he
escaped his execution...we have to..."

"Ingalles is dead Mulder. He has been for two
years."

"But he was there...I swear sir it was him."

"No, Mulder it was Jason Devereux. He was
Ingalles son, he started by getting vengeance on
those he believed robbed him of his right to
confront his father. It started with his birth
mother. I truly believe that he was sent over
the edge by the truth he uncovered."

Mulder continued to shake his head in denial.

"I saw him...I know what I saw."

"Mulder listen to me. Whatever happened in
there I'm asking you to put it aside for now.
Scully needs you now, just as you need her."

Skinner stood, letting his fingers unfold he
revealed the tiny gold cross, winking in the
dim light. "She's lost something that only you
can help her discover again."

Turning he walked away, leaving Mulder to
contemplate the cross that lay tangled in his
lap.

~*~*~*~*
MT. SINAI HOSPITAL
CHAPEL
DECEMBER 31, 2000
FIVE DAYS LATER
~*~*~*~*

Candlelight flickered through the shadowed
chapel, the scent of abundant flowers over
shadowing the antiseptic smell.

Skinner had told her that she needed to focus
on herself and at first she had argued. All she
wanted was to see Mulder, to touch him and
know that he would be all right, but she knew he
was right. They both needed time.

Dr. Lassiter knowing she was a doctor herself
allowed her to review Mulder's files to ease her
worry. His friend Dr. Piper LaRue, a brilliant
neurologist had given Mulder a clean bill on 
the possibility of nerve damage. She was amazed
at the lack of damage just as Lassiter had been.

Once she might have thought of it as a miracle, but
no longer. As a matter of fact she didn't understand
why she was here now. 

"Dana."

Wheeling her chair around she raised a brow at the
plump woman who stood in the door. "Do I know
you?" She asked feeling that she should.

"Oh I doubt that unless you've been here before. I've
been a nurse for a long time."

"Can I help you?"

The woman approached closer. Scully was sure she
recognized her, but from where...perhaps she had
seen her in the halls.

"Peaceful isn't it."

"I suppose," Scully turned away, studying the brilliance
of the stained glass window. "I'm not religious though."

"Are you sure about that dear?" 

Scully turned back to the altar, then took a deep breath,
ready to demand why this woman was questioning her.

She was gone.

Someone else was there though.

Tears welled in her eyes as Lassiter wheeled in a chair.

"Mulder?"

Mulder turned to Lassiter and nodded as if in answer
to an unspoken question. 

Silence engulfed them as they sat next to each other, both
unsure what to say. How to express their relief at finally
being reunited.

"I missed you," Mulder whispered.

"Me too."

"How are you?" His voice rose, trembling.

"I'll live and you?"

"Yeah...didn't lose anything important, but I think you
did." 

She turned, her eyes drifting to where his bandaged hands
and wrists lay in his lap. A tiny light flickered in the hazel
depths of his eyes as she smiled.

"Mulder...," there was an amused warning in her tone.

"No, really Scully," he laughed nervously as he stiffly
lifted his hands.

A breath caught in her throat. Laying in the folds of the 
blanket across his lap was her necklace, the tiny cross
glimmering in the candlelight.

"I can't...," she whispered.

Mulder glanced up at the simple cross that stood on the 
chapel altar, a flash of pain crossing his eyes.

"What is communion Scully?"

His question caught her off guard.

"It's the partaking of Christ's flesh and blood to 
commemorate his sacrifice." Her voice trembled as
she began to remember her first communion.

"And what does it do for those that believe?"

"It's a way to bring them closer to God, to reaffirm
their faith in his sacrifice to mankind."

Mulder nodded, taking in her words.

"Do you know what it is that has sustained use
over the years Scully? Do you know what has given
me the strength to continue when everything has fallen
around me?"

"No." She whispered.

"Your faith Scully. When I was at my weakest you 
were there to give me strength, to share your faith.
Don't let this destroy that."

Looking into his eyes it was as if a light filled her
for the first time since their abduction. Tears welled
in her eyes as she leaned in her hand cupping Mulder's
cheek.

"I still need that faith Scully...," he whispered, "...and
so do you. Without it I don't think we'll make it through
this." His words choked off in a half sobbed breath.

Laying her head on his shoulder she let the tears fall,
her shoulders shaking with each breath. Maybe he was 
right. Maybe all of this had been a test. 

A test of a faith that had been slowly slipping away.

"Forgive me God. I'm so sorry," her words came out 
muffled as Mulder leaned in, his lips brushing her hair.

Slowly her hand drifted to his lap, lifting the fine spun 
chain from it's resting place. They would make it through
this, they had to, she thought.

Perhaps this hadn't been her final communion.

Maybe it was just the beginning.

THE END?

Let me know what you think. :)