From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 6 Sep 2004 13:55:32 -0000
Subject: In the Name Of The Father (1/4) by Skinfull
Source: direct

Reply To: skinfull@undergroundtales.com


Rating: NC-17 for adult situations. 
Classification: XRA (With a side helping of MT)

Summary: Mulder was kidnapped and is missing for 4 
weeks until he is picked up on the side of the road 
by an ambulance that received an anonymous call as 
to his whereabouts...this is where we begin!

Feedback: skinfull@undergroudtales.com Love all 
feedback. Thanks in Advance!

Author's notes: At the end.

In The Name Of the Father
by Skinfull

Georgetown Memorial Hospital
7th December 
3.10 AM

The double doors didn't stand a chance as Dana 
Scully hit them at full speed, not bothering to 
slow down her charge into the hospital emergency 
department.  They smashed against the walls 
scraping the magnolia paint and disturbing the 
quiet tension in the waiting room.

"Where is he?" she demanded loudly approaching the 
desk and twirling round in search of someone who 
might help her. Eyes flashing blue venom from 
anyone who would keep her from her partner. She 
slammed her hand down on the counter and glared at 
the attending nurse on duty.  "I'm looking for Fox 
Mulder, he was admitted here about 2 hours ago? 
Where can I find him?" she bellowed without giving 
the nurse a chance to answer her.

"Agent Scully!"  Skinner came rushing over to her, 
his arms outstretched as he grasped her shoulders 
and turned her away from the dazed nurse.  "He's in 
emergency surgery at the moment." Her eyes locked 
on his, wide with fear and she nodded. A single 
tear escaping despite herself.

He guided her past all the waiting patients and 
through 2 sets of doors before placing her into one 
of the hallway plastic seats.  Bending down next to 
her he held her hands that lay restlessly on her 
lap.  

"What happened?" her voice was low, her fear and 
anger battling for supremacy.  "Who found him?"

"I know as much...or as little as you do.  I got 
here about 15 minutes ago...he was already in 
surgery."

"What about his admittance file? Where is it? I 
need ...I need to see it" Her voice took on a new 
tone of fresh anger as her mind reeled out the 
possibilities.

"I've already asked for it and a nurse from the ER 
is bringing it down."
    As if on cue a small elderly nurse approached 
them, the rubber soles of her shoes announcing her 
arrival on the otherwise silent corridor.

"Mr. Skinner?" Scully took a steadying breath and 
kept her eyes on the folder like it might attack 
her, the duality of needing and dreading to see 
what was inside almost buckling her at the knees.

"Yes, thank you."  He took the file she offered and 
his lips tightened as he passed it into Scully's 
shaking palms.  She flicked it open immediately her 
eyes and finger scanning the page, soaking up the 
list of meds he'd been given as if it could warm 
her of what injuries she could expect, before 
reading the treatments from the hospitals Triage, 
to the surgeon's notes before surgery.  Her eyes 
read through the bad scribbled notes and Skinner 
watched as she paled visibly before him.  She took 
a deep shaky breath almost gagging on the all too 
familiar taste of the hospital cleanliness as she 
lowered her face into her hands.  

"Scully? What is it?"  Her breath was a gasping 
noise that scared him s he waited for her to speak.

"His left arm is broken in two different places, at 
the elbow and at the wrist...probably from being 
suspended by handcuffs for an extended length of 
time."  Sitting up she glanced back at the medical 
file then up to Skinners concerned but expectant 
expression.  She took a sharp in take of breath. 
"They'll need to be re-broken and re-set correctly.  
Various head injuries to the frontal left 
lobe...some swelling but thankfully no clots. Many 
badly broken ribs. One or two threatening a 
Pneumothorax...that...that means they might have 
damaged his lungs."

"There is something else isn't there..." His words 
hung in the air between them but Scully refrained 
from answering right away, not wanting to say it 
out loud, not wanting to make it any more real. 
Skinner watched her eyes close upon the glistening 
tears held at bay there.

" Massive lower colon injuries due to...due...to 
..to severe sexual trauma."  Fresh tears fell 
silently as the file fluttered to the floor, the 
pages forgotten but their words still stinging 
sharply.
    
Skinner sat next to her and placed a tentative arm 
around her shoulders.  Without hesitation she 
turned into his broad chest and cried effortlessly, 
wetting his shirt in short sharp heart rending 
sobs.  

For a moment the silence was permeated only by she 
gentle crying, her tears falling, for what she 
didn't know, her sobs racking her chest for what 
she did.  She sat up abruptly running her hand over 
her cheeks to remove the traces of her tears as 
best she could.

"He's safe now," Skinner said soothingly. "And the 
staff here will give him excellent medical help. We 
will all help him. No matter what he needs...how 
much time it takes."

"How did he get here?"  She watched as he reached 
down to pick up the file and he flicked through the 
file until he came to the admittance page.

"An anonymous call from a phone booth on Jameson 
Street.  Ambulance picked him up there unconscious.  
They were given his name and exact location. He'd 
obviously made it here from wherever he was held. 
He was covered in earth and grass, bit of leaves. 
Looks like he'd come through some rough country. 
From the state of his feet... well he'd been 
running on empty. Sheer adrenalin kept him going. 
Must have travelled for days. But he made it here. 
He got away. And he's alive Dana. "

"We have to get a forensic team out there," she 
jumped up, now with action to be taken she pushed 
her emotions aside and forced Agent Dana Scully to 
the forefront.  "We have to see if-."

"Scully...I've got a team outside waiting for 
instructions.  We'll get this bastard. I don't care 
what it takes. We will nail him." 
    
She almost smiled at his reassuring platitudes but 
without the desire or the energy to do so, she 
watched as he stepped away pulling out his cell 
phone and barked out his commands in as low a tone 
as he could afford.  He had taken the file with him 
and she wondered briefly if it was to save her from 
reading any more horrors committed on her partner's 
poor body.  
    
Beside her a door opened and a nurse in surgery 
scrubs walked out pulling a facemask off as the 
door closed behind her.  She passed Scully with 
only a glance but sitting up, Scully watched as the 
door opened again this time emitting more people 
into the corridor.  The last one to exit stopped 
before her and pulled his facemask under his chin.

"Ms Skinner?" he asked his eyebrows arched into his 
hairline. She tried to avoid starring at the blood 
all over his scrubs, knowing it was likely Mulder's 
blood.

"Dana Scully." She stood and smoothed down the 
front of her jumper.  "We're you operating on Fox 
Mulder? I'm his partner and next of kin."

"Yes I was told to meet with a Skinner afterwards.  
I'm Dr. Rick Wolfe."

" AD. Skinner has just gone to make a phone call.  
How is Mulder?"

"We've reset his arm, the swelling on his face will 
go down and the scans show no real damage to his 
brain. He narrowly avoided a Pneumothorax and we 
reset all the broken ribs and we've also stitched 
some damaged muscles in his chest.  The stitches to 
his lower colon will dissolve of their own accord 
but he will be in a lot of discomfort for a while.

"He's going to be okay." Her words were more of a 
mantra than acceptance.
" He's been through the mill and he has a rough 
road ahead but I can see a full recovery for Mr 
Mulder."

"Full recovery?"

"Full physical recovery.  He has quite a long 
journey to go with no shortage of counselling.  The 
staff psychologist will talk to him when he is more 
lucid. They are taking him up in a few minutes. You 
can visit him in ICU."

"Of course."

"We could be looking at release in the next five to 
seven days if he progresses. He's a tough cookie to 
make it this far."

"Thank you, Dr. Wolfe. Can I see him?"

"He will be in recovery for an hour so then 
transferred to a private ICU room on the fourth 
floor.  I'll leave word for them to call you when 
he is settled enough for visitors."
    
He offered her a small smile and stepped around her 
walking back to the nurses' station.  Slumping back 
into the uncomfortable plastic she watched as 
Skinner approached Dr Wolfe.  Their eyes locked 
over the surgeon's shoulder and Scully could almost 
tell exactly what was being shared.  She stood as 
Skinner approached and her wan smile matched his 
own.

"There is a forensic team out by the phone booth 
right now."  He idly scratched his chest through 
the thick grey sweater searching for the right 
thing to say.  "It sounds like Mulder is going to 
be okay."

"His wounds will heal sir, but I'm not sure that he 
will ever be okay again."

She reluctantly let him pull her into a hug. 

"He has to be okay...I need my partner back 
whole. I just hope that he can be the Fox Mulder I 
know again. "

"However long it takes Scully."

"However long it takes..."

***

Georgetown Memorial hospital
10th December 2000
8.06 PM

The snow swept in with her as she walked into the 
relative warmth of the hospital, stomping her feet 
on the rubber mat by the door to loosen the flakes 
that clung to her boots. Weaving through the winter 
flu customers, she unwound her scarf from her neck 
as she stepped onto the elevator and pressed the 
fourth floor button. The impending holidays seemed 
to do nothing for the crowds that were hovering in 
the hospital corridors, and she was thankful that 
Mulder was to be released in the next few days.

He had spoken little since the day he woke up in 
the hospital; neither to her or the hospital 
assigned counsellor that visited him daily. His 
physical recovery was all but finished, save for 
the cumbersome cast on his arm that restricted much 
of his movement. His strength was building up and 
his swellings had all but disappeared, leaving only 
a yellow blue bruise covering his temple and cheek 
to stain his paled skin.

Standing outside his room she raised her arm to 
push the heavy door open and stalled to take a deep 
breath, but before she could enter her cell phone 
rang in her coat pocket. 

"Scully."

"Agent Scully. We've got a lead. The team is 
leaving in half an hour. A small farm on the 
outskirts of the city." Skinners voice was hard and 
free of the anxiousness she knew he was feeling.

"Who's taking lead?"

"Agent Andrews."

"Okay. Will you keep me informed?"

"Of course." A beat, then "How is he?"

"I'm just going in to see him now."

"Well send him my best." A quick gruff sentiment 
that told he how much he was thinking about the 
troubled agent.

"I will sir."

Slipping the phone back into her pocket, she 
resumed her ritual with one hand on the door and 
the other on her chest. She felt her lungs expand 
with a deep breath, taking some reassurance in the 
reality of Mulder being safe beyond that door. 

Pushing the door open slowly she stepped in and was 
surprised to see him lying on his side facing the 
window, his broken arm cradled beside his huddled 
legs. The room was eerily quiet, except for the 
wind blowing through the Venetian blinds as the 
breeze swirled around the room.

She moved slowly towards the bed circling it so she 
could clearly see his face. She noted his closed 
eyes as her hand reached out to move a lock of hair 
that had fallen into his eyes, but as her fingers 
touched his clammy skin he lurched, jerking away 
from her touch, his eyes flying open.

"Mulder, it's just me."

His initial fear seemed to dissipate by the sound 
of her voice but he rolled away from her to lie on 
his back, being careful not to bang his arm off the 
side of the bed.

"How are you feeling?" she asked walking over to 
close the window, trying to keep her hands from 
reaching out to grab him.

"Okay." His voice was raspy and tender, his eyes 
darting around the room never meeting hers, never 
staying still. She approached the bed again, 
clinging to the metal bars at the side to stop 
herself from touching him.

"Mulder-."

Her voice was so calm and placid that he 
immediately knew she was trying to talk, talk to 
him about stuff he hadn't yet spoken about but as 
his eyes raced to meet hers, the words she was 
trying to say died on her lips.

"No...not now...not ever...leave it," he whispered 
through gritted teeth.

He turned away from her, screwing his eyes tightly 
shut to hide the tears that sprang up without 
warning. She said nothing as she sat onto the heavy 
leather chair by his bed, her eyes falling onto his 
shuddering chest, watching the uneven breaths fill 
and empty from his lungs.                               
Soundlessly his cries seemed to fill the room with 
despair.

But it wasn't long before his breaths evened out 
and she realised he was asleep. Wanting to reach 
out to him to touch his arm, his hand, and his 
head...him. But knowing it was more for her own 
comfort than for his, she folded her hands onto her 
lap and sat back into the chair letting his mere 
presence soothe her. 

***

FBI Headquarters Basement Office
20th December 2000
6.15PM

Sitting at his desk she tapped the computer keys 
idly, watching her report end without violation of 
her distracted state. The rhythm of her fingers 
hitting the small plastic keys seemed to do enough 
to bring forth the words, leaving her enough peace 
to wallow in her own thoughts. The unfamiliar sound 
of the elevator doors made her look up, her fingers 
hovering above the keyboard as she awaited her 
visitor.

Steady footsteps made their way through the narrow 
hallway stopping at her door and it was with a 
little tension that the door was opened. She smiled 
mechanically at Skinner as he pushed the door 
further walking right up to the desk and facing 
her, his hands in his pockets.

With his shirt sleeves pulled up and his jacket, 
she imagined hanging off the back of his chair in 
his office, she couldn't help but see the tiredness 
in his eyes, hidden only by worry.

"Agent Scully. It's Friday. Why don't you get out 
of here?"

"I'm just finishing off this report." Skinner 
reached out and twisted the screen to see what she 
was working on.

"I'm not even going to look at this until the 
middle of January." She laughed at his simple 
admonition and nodded her head. "How is he?"

"Angry. He's very angry and very tired."

"How about the counselling?" Skinner walked around 
to her side of the expansive desk and leaned back 
against it, folding his arms across his chest.

"He's not talking. He's not talking to me, to his 
counsellor...to anyone."

He closed his eyes, a moment of horror flashing 
over his stern features. 

"He's got leave until January 17th. Then pending 
evaluation..."

"Evaluation sir that I'm not sure he'll pass."
Not wanting to condemn the conversation any 
further, Skinner pushed himself off the desk and 
walked back to the door.

"Go home Dana. Go home and get some rest."

"You too sir."

He pushed past the door and was about to close it 
but turned back to her.  "If there is anything you 
need. Just let me know."

She nodded her thanks without speaking, 
concentrating on pushing another wave of unbearable 
emotions down, down further than before, deeper 
than she wanted to know about. She switched off the 
PC and gathered her stuff, taking a few files into 
her case to work on at home. She had already 
declined a Christmas in San Diego with her family, 
wanting to be near for Mulder in case he called. He 
had been released from the hospital seven days ago 
and he had yet to call, but when he did she wanted 
to be close by.

She shut off the light and made her way to the 
garage. Finding it eerily empty she hurriedly put 
her things on the back seat and climbed into the 
drivers side. Traffic was a nightmare but she 
didn't mind, allowing her mind to wander, letting 
her foot release the brake slowly from habit rather 
than concentration. Coming up to the lights, she 
paused to wait for the green signal and it was then 
that she saw him. Mulder sitting next to her, his 
face soft and smiling, his mouth moving with words 
and laughter but no sound emerging.

She blinked tightly but refocused back on the seat 
to see he was gone. She jumped at the sound of the 
car horn beeping loudly behind her, and forced her 
limbs to manoeuvre the car onto the main road.  She 
shook her head hoping to keep awake and frowned, 
checking the seat beside her with a quick glance. 
It lay empty and accusing, mocking her double 
checks in the slow traffic. Suddenly from the 
backseat her phone started to ring, it's consistent 
tone demanding immediate attention. She reached 
behind her to grab her coat, knowing it was in the 
pocket and cursed herself for putting it back there 
in the first place. 

The coat landed in a pile on the passenger seat as 
she fumbled for the phone, finally touching it. She 
pressed the call button and held it up to her ear.

"Hello?" Static rolled over the line but she could 
hear no sounds. 

"Hello, who is this?"

"Scu-." The voice was strangled and sounded like it 
was coming from underwater but she recognised it 
immediately.

"Mulder...hang on...I'm on my way."

She tossed the phone onto the other seat, her mind 
sharp as she turned illegally, making a u-turn on 
the road, ignoring the angry horn she left behind 
in her haste. It seemed like an age before she 
reached his apartment building but it didn't take 
her long to charge up the stairs and race to his 
door. Unsure whether she should pull her gun she 
hesitated outside, looking at the dirty old brass 
numbers sitting regally on the brown wooden door. 
Listening to the silence deride her beating heart 
she fumbled with the key, inserting it into the 
lock just as a guttural scream rang from the other 
side.

"Mulder!" she yelled punching the door open and 
slamming it closed behind her. 

The room was dark, with even the fish tank light 
switched off and it took a moment for her eyes to 
adjust. She walked quickly into the living room 
finding it empty, but another scream propelled her 
into the bedroom. In the darkness she saw his 
shadow across the room huddled in the corner 
between the bed and the wall. Through the blinds, 
slots of dim light scarred the room, adding to the 
tension as she circled the bed to kneel down before 
him. His phone lay discarded on the floor beside 
him, and with his knees pulled up to his chest, his 
head was buried between his legs. He was wearing 
only a pair of shorts but his body was covered in a 
film of cold, clammy stale sweat. 

"Mulder..." Her voice as low as a whisper seemed to 
boom around the room but he made no move. Reaching 
out to touch him she felt him shivering beneath the 
light touch of her fingers. "Mulder...look at me."

When he didn't move she pushed his head back 
against the wall and saw that his eyes had rolled 
back into his head, his shivering becoming 
convulsions.

"Mulder!" Louder now she spoke forcefully, pulling 
his legs out from below him to make him lie flat on 
the ground. She rolled him over onto his side, 
bending one of his knees and straightening the 
other one to get him into the full recovery 
position. Careful of his arm in the cast, she 
leaned over him and held his body as it shook 
violently, threatening to buck her off him but only 
making her hold tighter.

"Hang on Mulder, I got you...just hold on."

She shook with him, her hands on his chest and 
resting her head on his shoulder. It was some time 
before the shaking subsided but she held him for a 
moment longer in the stillness. Sitting up, she 
rolled him over onto his back, but as he started to 
cough, dry heavy heaving, she rolled him back to 
his side in time for his lunch to make an 
appearance against his bed. 

Rubbing his back and making gentle soothing sounds 
was all she could do until his coughs dried up and 
nothing more came out. He rolled back of his own 
accord, wiping his mouth with the back of his good 
hand; he kept his eyes closed, throwing his arm 
over his face and buying it in the crook of his 
elbow. "Mulder...get up."

Scully got off the floor and hunched by him to help 
him up. But he ignored her outstretched hand in 
favour of his independence. As he stood she rose 
with him, her hands poised to catch him when she 
was sure he would fall. He managed to make it to 
the bedroom door but fell against the frame, his 
chest heaving again.

"C'mon."

Scully paid no notice to his meagre protestations 
and led him to the bathroom where he dove for the 
bath. Kneeling on the white tiles with his head 
ducked into the wide tub, he felt the small lumps 
of half digested food travel from the bottom of his 
stomach, forcing itself up his throat and exploding 
into his mouth with a pressure he couldn't contain. 
He closed his eyes against the torrent of burning 
vomit unable to stop it once it had begun, until 
finally his stomach had disgorged itself of all its 
contents.

Coughing up bile and blood, he spat out the lazy 
remains that clung to the tacky lining of his mouth 
before sitting back against the doorframe. Scully 
was there a towel in her hand and he took it to 
wipe his face. She reached for the washbasin and 
filled a glass of water for him, which he took, 
still without words. Rinsing his mouth out, he spat 
the water into the bath before turning on the 
faucet to empty it out. The dirty water swirled 
around the plug and he watched it with a 
fascination it didn't deserve.

"How are you feeling?"

"Empty." His eyes avoided hers and his hand fumbled 
with the tumbler in his lap. She knew he meant more 
then the lack of contents in his stomach.

"You need to rest."

She helped him get up and he was surprised at the 
weakness in his body, but the mere thought of how 
his stomach had just betrayed him made it twitch, 
so he pushed it away and focused on making it to 
the couch without falling. Scully helped him sit 
down and draped the heavy blanket over his 
shoulders. She rushed into the kitchen and 
retrieved a glass of water to leave on the table 
before him. When she returned he had slid onto the 
couch to lie down, huddled in a ball.

"Mulder, I'm just going to clean up a bit...I'll be 
right back."

Her hand squeezed his knee before she disappeared 
into the bedroom.  He could hear her moving about 
and wished he had the strength to tell her to go 
home. Covers were being torn from his bed, and he 
listened to the familiar creek of his hot press 
opening as she searched for clean sheets. He heard 
running water, the sounds dangerously close to his 
own liquid spray in the bath only moments before, 
but he managed to take a deep swallow of air to 
keep the remains of his stomach contents intact. He 
must have dozed off because suddenly she was 
kneeling before him, tears in her eyes as she 
watched him tenderly. He blinked his eyes quickly 
and she reached up to get rid of her own tears when 
she realised he had woken.

"I changed your sheets. You should get to bed."

He moaned with the sharp pain that travelled across 
his abdomen as he sat up and she followed him to 
the bedroom. The sheets had been pulled back and 
she left a clean pair of shorts on top. He couldn't 
help but smile at the gesture and sat heavily onto 
the cool clean sheets.

"I'll just grab you a glass of water."

When she was gone he managed to change into the 
shorts and was lying back on the bed when she 
returned. His chest felt heavy and constricted as 
if someone was sitting on it, and every breath he 
forced past his lips stung all the way down to his 
lungs. Keeping his eyes closed he heard her place a 
glass on the locker beside his head and move around 
the room, the carpet doing little to disguise her 
heeled footsteps. Wanting to know what she was 
doing but needing to keep his eyes closed, Mulder 
lay still hoping she would think him asleep and 
leave.

For a moment he heard nothing but the telltale 
sound of her soft breathing. He could place her 
standing by his head and resisted the urge to jump 
at her cool fingers brushing his warm cheek.

"Mulder, I'm going down to the car to get 
something...I'll be back in a minute."

So she intended to stay he realised with a 
surprising sigh of relief. The apartment door 
closed with a resonate thud, filling the room with 
an empty silence. His breathing became laboured and 
he felt his stomach constricting so he sat up to 
get to the bathroom.  He couldn't lie back and 
watch Scully clean up after him again.  Forcing his 
heavy limbs to co-operate, he managed to land with 
his shoulder against the wall and make his way to 
the bathroom. The clean smell of the disinfectant 
Scully had used to wash out the bath still clung 
impugning to the air as he kept his back to the 
wall and shuffled to the ground.

He was in the midst of another bout of nausea when 
she arrived back to the apartment. Dumping her 
stuff on the couch, she rushed to the bathroom 
where his wails were coming from and leaned down 
next to him. He groaned in pain at the force of his 
queasiness and his back hitched with every heave of 
his stomach. Again it dried up and he coughed out 
the putrid remains. With a hoarse moan he rested 
back against the wall and took the towel she 
offered. Rubbing it over his whole face he avoided 
her concerned gaze.

"Mulder, I should take you to the doctor."
"No."

His words were final and she knew there would be no 
discussion. He managed to get up off the floor and 
reached over to switch on the shower. 

"I'll clean it up Mulder, go back to bed." She 
rested her hand on his back, feeling it cold and 
clammy.

His eyes closed over for a moment trying not to 
feel the warm sensation of her hand on him. 
Stepping around her he stumbled back to the bedroom 
and listened to the shower running as she cleaned 
up his mess again. A hot wave of embarrassment 
washed over him at the thought so he rolled over 
onto his side, his broken arm bent in its cast 
beside him. He looked at his bruised fingers and 
wiggled them a bit, liking the slight niggling pain 
it caused in his wrist. He wasn't sure how long she 
had been there for, but suddenly she was standing 
over him, a frown encased deeply on her soft 
features.

"Mulder, you need to take something to get your 
temperature down."

She held out her hand where two aspirin sat 
awaiting his attention.  Gingerly he took them and 
put them in his mouth, sipping from the glass of 
water she held in her other hand.

"Thanks," he mumbled as his head landed back on the 
pillow.

"Is your stomach still queasy?"

"Mmm hmm." His eyes searched the ceiling for a 
familiar spot, landing on the corner over the 
window.

"Will you let me call a doctor?"
"No."

For a moment she watched him, unsure whether she 
should call anyway but decided against it. She 
wanted to sit by his side, watch over him but she 
knew he wouldn't relax until she was out of the 
room.  She walked over to his wardrobe and fumbled 
in it for a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He 
watched her take out his grey bottoms and his Nicks 
sweatshirt then disappear out of the room. 
Frowning, he looked at the door and wondered where 
she was going until she arrived back a moment later 
wearing his clothes.

"I'm going to be in the living room. Call me if you 
feel ill."

He said nothing but pulled his eyes away from her 
face and back to his corner on the ceiling. She 
left the room, leaving the door open slightly and 
it wasn't long before he heard the familiar sound 
of her fingers tapping the keys on her laptop. The 
television was down low, a mere murmur against the 
silence and soon he found himself drifting off.

Hands were everywhere, reaching out to him but not 
to help him; to touch him, stroke him, hurt him. 
Trying to roll away he found both his hands tied up 
and his feet bound to something cold and hard. A 
splash of water covered his face making him 
struggle to catch his breath but when he did he 
inhaled as much as he could, then pushed it past 
his voice box as hard and as fast as his body would 
allow.

His scream was alarmingly loud, startling her so 
much she was unsure if she had heard it or not. 
Jumping up she raced into his room where his body 
was squirming beneath the quilt, his voice 
murmuring words she couldn't understand. She 
reached out to him, her hand landing on the centre 
of his chest but he recoiled from her touch. 

"Mulder, wake up, you're dreaming!"

She called out to him but it had no affect only to 
disturb him further. He curled into a ball, 
oblivious of his arm in the cast and grabbed his 
head with both hands, his fingers tearing into his 
hair.  His screams came short and sharp and it 
broke her heart to hear, but every time she reached 
out to touch him he bit out another deeper scream, 
shaking away from her. Soon the screams turned to 
sobs and his whole body moved with the effort of 
the tears that fell onto his clean sheets.

"Mulder..." she said softly wanting to revive him but 
not to touch him again.

"Leave me alone...all of you...leave me alone."

He pleaded with the ghosts that taunted him, his 
voice low and full of an aching need to cry but not 
being allowed to. Still curled up tightly he 
eventually cried with his whole body, his hands 
gripping his hair, his knees digging into his chest 
and his back curved over so tightly, Scully could 
see each single vertebra all the way down to his 
coccyx bone. She stood by him crying tears of her 
own and watching his emotions unfurl before her.

Sitting on the floor and leaning next to the bed, 
Scully pulled her own knees up to her body and 
rested her chin there, wrapping her arms around her 
legs in an effort to stop the pain. Her heart was 
bursting with the need to comfort him but she was 
powerless against these demons. Words escaped 
through his moans but still he was curled up, 
muffling the sounds as he rocked back and forth in 
a slow steady movement.

"No...stop...please stop..."

Unable to take it anymore Scully turned around to 
face him and sat on the edge of the bed. Carefully 
she wrapped her arms around him and lay in a small 
circle around his body, her arms reaching over his 
head and flush to his back. He stiffened 
immediately under her touch but as she rocked with 
him she could feel his body relaxing under the 
gentle motion. She didn't make a sound for fear of 
breaking his reprieve, but soon his grip on his own 
hair loosened and tension was released, as he lay 
motionless and silent beneath her.

They stayed like that until she felt him shiver 
from the cold. The sweat had dried against his skin 
making him colder than her. His skin was still 
clammy but she didn't think he'd take to kindly to 
a shower. Removing her body from his side she 
climbed off the bed and pulled the blanket up 
around him.

The bed rolled under her small movements and Mulder 
suddenly became aware of a rush of cold air around 
his bareback where her arm had been resting. When 
the blanket was tucked around him he pulled it up 
to his chin and closed his eyes tighter against the 
vision of her standing beside him. He heard her 
walk away and stand by the door and wanted to call 
out to her to stay, but his voice made no sound and 
his eyes remained screwed shut.

Scully walked slowly out to the living room and sat 
into the couch with a heavy emotional sigh. She 
rested back against the soft black leather, diluted 
with his smell and inhaled deeply. Fresh tears fell 
freely and she did nothing to stop their precious 
release. Lying down and pulling her legs up to 
herself, she pulled the heavy blanket around her 
body and cried without restraint.

From the dark confines of the bedroom, Mulder could 
hear her barely audible cries but nothing he could 
do could make him move. His body was stuck, his 
mind reeling with images he didn't want her to see, 
his heart breaking with emotions he didn't want her 
to feel. Pulling the blanket up over his head, 
Mulder muted her cries against the quilt and shook 
with tears of his own.

***

The Office Of Assistant Director Skinner
23rd December 2000
7.25 PM

"Mulder, come in." He met him at the door and held 
it open as Mulder walked in. Dressed casually in 
grey slacks and a light jumper, he had his arm in a 
sling with his leather jacket slung loosely over 
his shoulders. 

"You know you're not supposed to be in until the 
New Year." Skinner joked trying to lighten the 
obvious tension that seemed to follow Mulder into 
the wide office.

"Yes sir I understand, but I wanted to talk to you 
about that."

"Do you want more time?" Skinner sat down at his 
desk inviting Mulder to take a seat.

"Something like that." With his good hand he 
reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a 
sealed white envelope. "I am here to tender my 
resignation."

Skinner was reaching out for the envelope that 
Mulder was passing to his over the expanse of his 
large desk, but his hand froze at Mulder's words.

"Your resignation?"

"I've thought about it for a long time...I've thought 
about little else," he lied. "I've made my 
decision."

"Mulder you've been through quite a lot in the past 
two months. 
Wouldn't you rather come back to work in the New 
Year and see..."

"Sir...I'm leaving. I understand the contractual 
needs to remain in my position for a resigned 
period of time, but I was hoping with the leave I 
have accrued, that we could come to an immediate 
release of my duties."

"Have you spoken to Agent Scully about this?" 
Skinner saw the flash in his eyes as he played his 
trump card.

"It is my decision to make." His voice was cold 
with anger.

"Mulder, when I was-."

"Save the feel good story." Mulder stood up and 
fixed his jacket. 
"Please respect my decision and accept my 
resignation."

Skinner watched as he turned on a steady heel and 
walked out of the room into the hallway, for the 
last time. He ripped open the envelope and printed 
on the plain white paper was an official letter of 
resignation with Mulder's broad signature at the 
end. With only a moment's hesitation he reached for 
the phone.

"Hello?"

"Agent Scully. Can you come up to the office for a 
moment?"

"Of course sir."

As he waited for her arrival he read and reread the 
letter before him, all the while debating whether 
he was doing the right thing, interfering in the 
personal business of his agents wasn't exactly part 
of his job description. Scully bustled through the 
door, her coat and case in her hand.

"On your way home?"

"Yes sir."

"I've just had a visit from Agent Mulder."

"Mulder was here?" she glanced around the room as 
if she expected to see him sitting on the chair in 
the corner.

"He came to give me this."

Confused, she took the page he was holding out to 
her and with fluttering in her stomach, she looked 
down at the neat type spotting Mulder's signature 
before reading the actual text. As her eyes 
discovered the content her frown deepened until it 
was a fully blown glare that she hit Skinner with.

"What's this? Where is he?"

"He just left. I know it's none of my business, but 
I understand he's made this decision with any 
discussion with you?"

"No sir he never said a word to me." Never says 
much to me anymore she admitted silently.

"Maybe you should talk with him before I process 
this."

"Yes sir, thank you."

She slipped the offending letter into her pocket 
and rushed out the door. The late evening traffic 
was light as she raced through the streets. Pulling 
up to his apartment, she all but abandoned her car 
on the path in her rush to confront him. Her 
fingers played with the folded page in her pocket 
as she drew strength from it, the strength she 
needed to force him to speak to her, to ignore the 
deadness in his eyes and urge him to reach out to 
her. Stepping off the elevator she saw that his 
apartment door was open. Her pace quickened and she 
raced over to see his landlord standing in the all 
but empty living room.

"Mr Floyd?"

"I already got rid of the stuff. Ain't no more 
left," he barked without turning round.

"Mr Floyd, it's me, Dana Scully. I'm looking for 
Mulder."

"Mulder? Mulder? Mulder is gone." He talked around 
the butt of a cigar that clung to the corner of his 
lips.

"Gone? Where is he gone?"

"I dunno...but he left this for you Ms Scully." He 
passed her an envelope and walked past her out of 
the apartment, closing the door behind him.

Holding the envelope closed in her hand she walked 
through the apartment staring at the spot where his 
dining table used to sit, at the empty space where 
his couch used to be and the now completely empty 
bedroom. All that remained was the fish tank and 
computer.  Over at the window she checked the 
street for his car in a last ditch hope that he was 
still close by, but she saw only her own hap-
hazardly parked vehicle. Her finger slipped easily 
into the envelope seam and she ripped it open, 
taking a deep breath before pulling the page out. 
The letter was hand written and signed at the 
bottom in his instantly recognisable autograph.


Scully,
It's been a journey. A journey I'll never forget, 
no matter how much I try. Things have happened 
between us that will always stay with me, but other 
things have happened to me that will never leave us 
alone. I hope you can forgive me for leaving you, 
for not saying goodbye but it was too painful to 
look at you, to see the pity, to feel the shame. I 
couldn't do it, I couldn't face you anymore and 
know that is was me who was putting that look in 
your eyes, stealing your smiles and drowning your 
laughter.
So I'm leaving. Or rather, I left. I knew Skinner 
would call you as soon as I left his office but it 
had already happened. I want you to take my fish; 
they might survive the move to your place and 
actually blossom in your care. My computer I wanted 
to give to the gunmen but they are out of town. I 
would appreciate it if you got my hard drive over 
to them.
Don't come looking for me. Don't try to find me. I 
know you are already thinking of ways to get in 
contact with me but I will ask only this of you. I 
just want to be alone.
Just remember I'll always be thinking of you 
Scully.
Love always, 
Fox Mulder.


She read it over again letting the words sink in 
fully. Standing in shock she quickly reeled over 
the possibilities of where he might have gone, who 
he might have told. Before she could let her body 
give into the all but overwhelming need to 
collapse, she pulled her phone from her pocket and 
dialled Skinner's number.

"Skinner, he's gone. He must have moved out today, 
his apartment is cleared and emptied."

"Where has he gone?"

"I don't know sir. Did he mention anything to you?"

"No. Nothing."

"I'm going to try contact some of his friends. 
Would you call his mother's house for me? He might 
have gone over there."

"Absolutely."

Scully walked back out to the corridor almost 
bumping into the landlord in her hurry.

"He told me you were going to take his fish tank. 
Should I get it delivered or will you take it now?"

"Did he mention to you where he was going?"

"No ma'am. Called to me this morning with a cheque 
for rent and costs and asked me to take all the 
furniture and sell it. He said the computer and 
fish tank were to be given to Dana Scully along 
with the letter. Something happened to him?"

"I don't know."

"Sounds to me like he's taken off. Something must 
have been troubling him."

"Something..."

"So should I have it delivered ma'am?" Floyd said 
after a moment of awkward silence.

"Please. Thank you."

Rushing out to her car she sped onto the road, 
ignoring the danger of dialling and driving she 
rang the office of the Lone gunmen. But all she got 
was the answering machine. Regardless, she 
continued her journey and soon found herself 
banging on the door.

"Frohike? Byers?" she yelled loudly. "It's Scully, 
I need to talk to you."

Her shouts were unheard in the empty office, but 
when her phone rang loudly in her pocket she 
pounced on it.

"Hello?"

"Agent Scully, I can't seem to get an answer."

"Me neither. I think...I think he's gone. He left me 
a letter. Asking me not to look for him."

"Do you want to drop it?"

The static on the phone hung between them endlessly 
until she sighed into it.

"Sir that decision was already made by Mulder." 
Hanging up her phone she walked slowly back to her 
car, ignoring the drizzling wet rain that dampened 
her hair but hid her tears in a thousand raindrops.

***

Discovery Park
Seattle, Washington
17th December 2004
5.40AM

The water was cold and did little to help his 
fingers move smoothly over the skin of the body 
below him. Loud banging could be heard and he 
cursed his son for his inability to understand the 
word "silently". The body moved a little dragging 
his attention back to the crumpled form that lay 
beneath his feet. He lowered himself to straddle 
the man lying beneath him and with his knees, 
holding the body in place; he poured the cold water 
over the closed face. 

Shock registered immediately within the body 
causing it to struggle to breath, but finally 
catching air in short sharp stabs of breath that 
covered his face in small puffs of air in the cold 
morning darkness.  He fought against the restraints 
of the knees over his arms but it was useless, he 
could already feel his body shivering under the 
cool water. The bucket landed with a clatter behind 
him and he turned to call his son. Footsteps across 
the hardened mud approached dragging the long plank 
of wood behind it.

"Here...hold this."

He handed out the hammer to his son who slipped it 
into a brown leather tool belt. Fear registered in 
the eyes below him, but he placed his palm on his 
forehead and muttered beneath his breath words the 
shivering body recognised as Arabic. But before he 
could try to understand what was being, said the 
hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a 
sitting position only to push him back down onto 
the plank the son had slipped beneath him.

From behind his hands were grabbed and held in 
place tied with an old frayed rope. He had a 
momentary reprieve at the thought that they were 
only going to use the rope, but it was dashed at 
the sight of the box of nails that sat by his 
shoulder.

He wanted to scream but all the air he pushed past 
his throat came out silently, his lips stilled not 
opening into the wide yell and his head remained 
motionless against the wood. 

"Hail Holy Mary, mother of God."

The first nail was driven through his wrist with a 
surprising lack of pain but then he realised it 
wasn't the only thing he couldn't feel. Nothing was 
registering as he tried to wriggle his toes, lick 
his lips or even blink. He could feel the warm 
blood seeping from the wound collecting in the palm 
of his hand and he almost welcomed the warmth.

Soon the second nail went into the other wrist and 
the ropes were taken away. He heard the movements 
around him and tried to follow them with his eyes, 
but the paralysis seemed to stop even them from 
moving. Standing over his head looking down on him 
from behind, he was met with the cruel sneer on the 
all to familiar face but even the shock couldn't be 
registered on his stilled features. Hands reached 
down to him with light glinting of the metal in the 
small light from the torch in the son's hand. He 
could barely make out the spikes in the coiled 
metal until they came closer and were wrapped 
around his forehead. He wanted to scream with 
expected pain, but his face remained unmoving and 
the pain was nonexistent.

"Like this Dad?" The son's voice was behind him but 
he couldn't see what he was talking about.

"Yeah. Stick it in and up but not too far."

He felt his body moving with a force from his left 
side but without the feeling of pain he couldn't 
tell what it was. Suddenly the whole world shook 
and he felt himself being dragged across the wet 
grass.  A light rain began to fall and he blinked 
the drops from his eyelashes. Air rushed out of his 
lungs and he found his chest moving slowly with 
deep breaths. The ability to move his head returned 
with sharp stinging pain as he rolled his head 
against the wood, pushing the barbed wire deeper 
into his skull.

He felt the wood moving and blinked his eyes again 
as they pushed the cross up higher and planted it 
in the hole that the son had just dug. His wrists 
tingled in pain as the feeling returned and he was 
surprised to feel his feet also nailed to the wood. 
His side burned with hot liquid pain with warm 
blood seeping from the open wound there.

"Shall I crucify your King?"

Looking down he saw his friend staring up at him, 
his bible in hand and his eyes open and smiling. He 
was scared and confused and he couldn't understand 
why he was doing this to him.

"Lets get out of here Dad."

He watched in despair still unable to call out, as 
the pain got stronger with every beat of his heart, 
he watched them walk away into the darkness.

***

Washington DC
17th December 2004
7.30AM

Most mornings on the cross-town journey to work, 
Dana Scully cursed Henry Ford for the mass 
production of the automobile. But this morning with 
heavy snow convincing most of the DC patrons to 
stay at home she cruised easily into work. Parking 
her car in the all but empty garage she jumped up 
and pulled her coat tighter around her body. A 
smile curved her lips as she strolled through the 
large white flakes, enjoying their cool sting as 
they melted against her forehead.

As a girl she would have danced in the falling 
slivers of snow facing the sky with her mouth open 
wide in anticipation of the clear snowy taste, a 
humble gift from God to clear the land, her mother 
would call it. But as she approached the main 
entrance to the FBI building she decided against 
the childish dance.

It was a cold Friday morning in Washington and with 
the heavy snowfall, she didn't expect to see the 
usual throng of agents inside, but she was 
surprised at the desertedness of the halls.  
Flashing her badge at the young security man she 
pinned her ID to her collar as she stepped through 
the metal detector.

"Nice to see someone decided to come in." She 
looked up to see AD Skinner walking out of the 
communal coffee room by the reception shaking thick 
snowflakes from his jacket and juggling a steaming 
cup of coffee and his case in his hands.

"Quiet?"

"Morgue."

She allowed a small chuckle to slip past her lips 
but as she caught up to him and he locked eyes with 
her, he saw no reaction to her mirth.

"What case are you working up in ATF?"

"Gleeson case. We're still at the surveillance 
stage. AD. Jackson won't move on the warrant until 
we've collect a tonne of evidence." "Yes I was 
speaking to him yesterday. I hope you don't mind." 
They arrived at the bank of elevators and Skinner 
punched the button with the base of his palm.

"Concerning the Gleeson case?"

"Somewhat."

Her silence was enough to make him wary as he 
stepped into the elevator car and held the door 
open for her to follow. She hesitated for a second, 
not long enough to make an issue but just for him 
to acknowledge her delay.

"A case has come to my attention and I wanted to 
assign you to it." He had said it so nonchalantly 
as he reached out and hit the buttons for the third 
and fifth floor that it took a second for his words 
to sink in.

As the car started with a slight jolt, she whipped 
her head round to face him fully. He glanced up at 
the lighted floor numbers on the top of the door 
and prayed for the elevator to speed up.

"A case?"

"An X file." 

"The X files were shut down over three and a half 
years ago, Sir." She enunciated the title so 
stoically that it left no doubt in his mind as to 
her displeasure.

"There may not be a department for the X files 
Scully, but that doesn't mean that all the cases 
disappeared."

With a resonate ding the elevator came to rest on 
the third floor and he stepped out keeping his foot 
in the way of the door. Steam from the coffee 
curled in front of him in danger of disrupting his 
vision, but he ignored it lowering his hand to get 
it out of the way.

"What did AD Jackson say?" Skinner held back his 
triumphant smile knowing that if her curiosity had 
been piqued she couldn't be too mad at him.

"He agreed to release you and Agent McLane to take 
a look at the case."

"What is it anyway?"

"A murder in Seattle. Killer left a note. The local 
PD are stumped and they requested help."

"I don't know, sir."

"Think about it, talk to McLane. Come up to my 
office at 2 and we'll talk."

Releasing the heavy doors he stepped back and 
watched as they closed with a heavy thud. She rode 
up to the fifth floor and quietly stepped through 
the empty bullpen making her way to the large 
office she shared with her partner, David McLane. 
She was thankful David hadn't made it in yet as she 
rested her case on the desk and slowly slid into 
her chair.

An X file, she thought with a sigh. Three years she 
spent working diligently for the Alcohol Tobacco 
and Firearms Department, burying herself in her 
work in an effort to forget the X files and then 
she finds one handed to her on a silver platter. 
And now she realised it was all for nothing. She'd 
never forget, she wasn't even sure if she wanted 
to.

With her elbows on the table and her hands held up 
to cover her face, her only warning of David's 
impending arrival was the tuneless whistle he 
seemed to carry everywhere. He bustled through the 
office door wrapped in a cold breeze that 
dissipated quickly in the heated room. 

"Brrrrr," he said loudly with a smile. "It is 
dammed cold out there 
Dana."

"I noticed."

"And did J Edgar declare a holiday and not tell 
us?" he continued oblivious to her sombre mood as 
he tossed his coat onto the coat rack.

"Come on, don't tell me you weren't tempted to stay 
in bed?" she asked forcing a smile to curve her 
lips.

"Of course I was but I am the responsible type! I 
braved the wintry conditions to spend the day in 
here listening to Gleeson's phone calls with you 
Dana!"

"Janet gone back to Boston for the Weekend?"

"Yes." He slumped heavily into his chair with an 
exaggerated sigh making her laugh. 

Turning on his computer he worked silently for a 
while before standing and declaring it time for 
tea. In all the years that they had worked 
together, no matter the situation or the location 
David always found time for tea at 11.30. He 
scratched his chin as he crossed the room and left 
without a word. The bullpen had remained empty with 
most Agents opting to call in or go straight to 
field assignments, so it wasn't long before he 
returned placing a coffee in front of her and 
sitting on the corner of her desk.

"So do you want to tell me about it?" he urged, 
blowing the steam away from his cup as he took a 
long sip.

"What?"

"Whatever is playing on your mind?"

Her mind reeled with possible defensive remarks but 
her lips didn't seem to want to co-operate. Holding 
the cup with both hands she leaned back in her 
chair and glanced up at him.
"I spoke with AD. Skinner this morning."

"Skinner?"

"He asked me to look at a case...us to look at a 
case." David nodded his head with a little sway, 
rocking it like a dashboard toy.

"What did you say?"

"I told him I'd think about it. Jackson has given 
us the all clear to take it if we want. He says 
that we'll need a lot more evidence on Gleeson 
before he looks for the warrant, and that Keats can 
head it up for a while."

"Nice to know they have our replacements already 
lined up." She smiled at his joke and sipped her 
hot coffee again, savouring the rich taste and 
searching for the right words. "What kind of case 
is it?"

"Murder case...an X file."

"You don't want to take it?"

"I'm not sure I want to go down that path again 
David." She put her cup on the table and dry washed 
her face with both hands.

"It's been four years since he left Dana."

"Doesn't make it hurt any less." Her voice was so 
low that he strained to hear it, but as he realised 
what she said he couldn't argue. What little Dana 
had shared with him had been painful for her and he 
wouldn't do anything to make her go through it 
again. Letting the silence envelop them for a 
moment, he gave her enough time to reign back in 
her emotions before standing and placing a warm 
gentle hand on her shoulder, giving her a squeeze.

"What ever you decide Dana. I'll back you either 
way." She covered his hand with her own and smiled 
up at him with watery eyes.

"Thanks David." He gave her another little squeeze 
before leaving and closing the door behind him. 

The silence blared in her ears making her all the 
more aware of how alone she felt. Even after four 
long years without him she could still smell the 
faint hint of his cologne, still feel the warm 
welcome weight of his hand resting on the small of 
her back, and hear his low husky laugh caressing 
her ears. His ghost haunted her every night, 
tempering her dreams and thoughts without release. 

Maybe it was time she fought back she decided as 
she reached for her coffee and sipped it again. 
Maybe it was time she did some haunting of her own.

***

END OF PART 1

***
PART 2

Georgetown Apartment
17th December 2004
8.05    PM 

Scully raced from the car through the crunchy snow 
and let herself into the relative warmth of her 
apartment. Slamming the door, she dropped her case 
by the couch and pounced on the ringing phone.

"Hello?" she said breathlessly.

"Hey the caller is supposed to be the heavy 
breather not the receiver!"

"I was running in from the snow, David."

"Sure Dana. I wont keep you I just wanted to let 
you know I spoke with Detective Gary Shane from the 
precinct in Seattle and he is delighted that we 
will be coming. He's arranged for accommodation to 
be ready for us and a rental at the airport."

"Doesn't he know the bureau usually handle all 
that?"

"He insisted Dana. Anyway I better get cracking if 
I want to make the flight. See you at the airport."

She hung up the phone and paused for a moment, her 
hand frozen on the receiver. The day had passed in 
a blur after her conversation with Skinner. Having 
decided to take the case, both she and David went 
up for the review in Skinner's office and agreed on 
a plan of attack. Although it was Skinner who 
requested her presence on the case, he seemed 
almost reluctant to give it to her in the end.

The blue light from the fish tank blinked on and 
off dragging her attention back to the room. She 
walked over and tipped in a little food watching as 
the small fish raced to the surface to grab what 
they could before she raced herself to the bathroom 
to shower.

After changing and packing, she locked her 
apartment and slipped a small note under her 
neighbor's door to let her know she'd be gone and 
that the fish would need to be fed. It was a tough 
drive to the airport and she was glad when it was 
over, half expecting the flight to be cancelled due 
to the weather. David met her by the check in desk 
and they went straight to the departure after 
handing in their luggage.

"You okay? You seem a little distracted. Second 
thoughts?"

"Second, third, tenth...a million!" He slipped a 
heavy arm around her shoulders and pulled her 
closer to him as they queued to take their seats.

"Don't worry Dana."

"I'll be fine. So what was Det Shane like?" she 
asked as she slid into the window seat and he 
stowed their coats over head.

"It seems the Seattle police force are up in arms 
over this case."

"What do you mean?" Her gaze that had been drawn to 
the irregular patterns the falling snow was making 
on the thick Plexiglas window turned to him, as he 
got comfortable in the small seat. At a healthy 
6'2, David often complained that the Bureau should 
pay for first class tickets to accommodate his 
needs but seemed disinclined to do so today.

"Two Detectives on the case arguing as to the 
methods to take on the investigation."

"One wanted to call the Bureau?"

"The other didn't." He said turning to face her 
with his head leaning against the top of the 
headrest. "You look tired Dana. Why don't you get 
some sleep?" She smiled at him and couldn't help 
but relax a little with his wide frame all but 
protecting her from the other passengers.

"No that's okay. I wanted to read through the case 
file."

"Okay well I got a shoulder here that has your name 
on it if you change your mind."

Scully reached into the pocket of the chair in 
front of her and pulled out the small case file to 
read. Victim named Jared Wilks aged 33. Died from 
severe head wounds after a beating with several 
blunt objects. She flicked through to the back of 
the folder to see the coroner's photos of the body 
and a pile of rocks that sat next to it. 

Her eyes scanned the photo seeing the open and 
glazed eyes stare back at her making her turn back 
to the report. The victim had been missing for 12 
nights before a jogger on the beach uncovered the 
body. Nailed to the victim's chest was a small 
metal plate with an inscription carved neatly into 
its centre.

"Let he who is without sin, Cast the first stone." 
Without realising it her fingers reached out to 
touch the small printed words on the smooth white 
paper, her lips miming the words as she read it 
over and over again.

"David did you..." Glancing up to address him she saw 
his eyes had closed over and his mouth hung open a 
little. After his offer to let her sleep, it was he 
who gave in to his fatigue and it made her smile as 
she went back to reading the file.

***

The Sleepy Hallow Inn
Seattle, Washington.
18th December 2004
8.06    AM

"I haven't slept that well in ages!" David declared 
as they walked from their rooms to the black rented 
sedan. He held the door open as she sat in and 
quickly raced through the light rain around to the 
driver's side.

"Was it the pastel colors? Or the soothing floral 
print on the duvet? Perhaps the nature scene 
paintings?" she jibed hiding a yawn.

"I don't know and I don't care none either!" he 
said laughing with her as they drove to the police 
station. He was delighted to see her in a 
marginally better mood, and even though she had 
immaculately applied her make up. They had worked 
together long enough for him to be able to see 
through any facade she might put up in an effort to 
hide her tiredness. She stifled a second yawn as 
they pulled into a car space and walked into the 
station.

"Detective Gary Shane?" David asked the desk 
sergeant.

"He's in interview room one at the moment. But he's 
on his own so you can go right on in. Down the hall 
second on your left."

David glanced at Scully as they walked away and he 
offered her a small smile. Knocking lightly before 
opening the door he was surprised at the force from 
the other end that pulled it open and out of his 
hand.

"Det Shane?"

"Yes, yes...Gary Shane. Are you from the FBI?" a 
heavyset man in a badly fitted suit approached them 
eagerly, holding out his hand.

"Special Agent David McLane and this is Special 
Agent Dana Scully."

Shane who ushered them back shook their hands 
vigorously out to the station lobby. 

"There has been another murder."

"Where?"

"Body was found this morning out in Discovery 
Park."

It was a quick drive to the park and Shane filled 
them in on what little he'd found out about the 
murder scene. It was bustling with police activity 
already cordoned off with bright yellow police 
tape. 

A young officer held it up as they walked through 
and Scully watched as she spied David straying over 
to the coroner, retrieving his ever-present note 
pad from his breast pocket. She couldn't suppress 
the smile that curved her lips slightly as she 
turned her attention back to Shane. They weaved 
their way through the cars and trees to walk into 
an open hilled green area the sight of which stole 
her breath away. On the top of the middle hill 
stood a large crucifix, the victim, as of yet 
unknown, nailed to it, 

Her feet suddenly felt heavy, as her eyes took in 
the battered body complete with crown of barbed 
wire and bloody wound to his side. As if sensing 
her shock, Det Shane gently touched her elbow.

"You read about it but it ain't nothing till you 
see it."

The warm clasp of his fingers seemed to jolt her 
back to business.  Four officers were just lowering 
the crucifix to the ground as they approached and 
she stopped almost 10 feet away. They lay it flat 
on the top of the hill and stalled as one by one 
they walked away, save for one man who hunched by 
the victims head, examining more closely the crown 
of barbed wire that was coiled tightly around his 
head, piercing the skin in different areas.

"Do we have an identification?" she asked her voice 
barely above a whisper.

"We're running prints but the forensic team just 
gave us the go ahead to move the body."

"I'd like to do an autopsy."

"We have a staff pathologist-."

"No I'd like to do it if that's okay." Her voice 
was stern but her eyes remained transfixed on the 
victim's body before her.

"Agent Scully?"

Turning, she spotted David rushing over to her and 
noted the moment his eyes saw the victim. His face 
visibly paled but he regained his composure 
commendably as he turned to her.

"I spoke to the coroner about a facility for your 
autopsy. He said he'll arrange it and call us when 
it's ready."

"Thank you."

"Who found the body this time?" he asked Shane as 
the three made the final few steps to stand over 
the body. The hunched figure remained at the head, 
one latex gloved hand carefully touching the coil 
of barbed wire.

"An anonymous tip," Shane said ominously. 

"A body is crucified in a city centre park and left 
for what looks to be at least over 20 hours...and the 
only witness is an anonymous tip?" Scully's voice 
was incredulous with disbelieve at the facts before 
her. "You're telling me no one saw this man here?"

Shane looked sheepishly at the man who was bent 
before them but slowly the stranger stood up, 
keeping his back to his now rapt audience as he 
peeled the gloves off.

"The eyes sometimes see what they want to see 
regardless of the facts before them."

Expecting a quick retort from Scully the brunt of 
which he'd often been on the receiving end of, 
David turned to her only to see the blood drain 
from her face, taking her frown with it and leaving 
her with an expression of disbelief. The voice was 
so hauntingly familiar to her it made her breath 
catch in her throat with an audible gasp as he 
turned to face them.

"Detective Williams I presume?" David said 
extending his hand.

"This is Special Agent David McLane and Special 
Agent Dana Scully from the Washington DC Office," 
Shane informed him indicating each one in turn.

"Frank Williams." After shaking hands with David, 
Williams reached out to Scully who was stood still, 
staring at him, her eyes unblinking, frozen and 
confused. His hand hovered between them for a 
second before he reached it up to scratch an out of 
place goatee; a rueful expression on his face.

"Any more plates?" David asked stepping towards the 
body in a physical attempt to pull the attention 
away from his partner. With a final lingering look 
at Scully, Williams turned with him towards the 
body, a surreptitious glance falling over the tall 
FBI Agent beside him.

"Yes." He pointed to the small plate nailed over 
the victim's head on the cross. "Shall I crucify 
your King?" 

The conversation carried on without her input as 
she stood silently on the outskirts of reality, 
words swimming past her without depth or meaning. 
All she could see was the oddly recognizable grey 
eyes, knowing something was wrong but unable to 
figure it out. His voice sang a song in her head 
she'd longed to hear for so long and yet she could 
do nothing to answer it. 

"And no leads were recovered by the forensic team?"

"Nothing obvious. A lot of stuff is still being 
checked out," Williams turned to face David fully, 
his hands resting languidly on his hips as if he 
was bored with the conversation.

"I understand. It's a huge process." David glanced 
over at her and a wave of worry washed over him at 
the stiff stance she was holding, her mouth closed 
tightly almost hiding her lips completely. "The 
phone call, was it recorded?"

"All calls to the emergency board are recorded," 
Shane stepped in eager to give something to the 
group. "It was traced to a phone booth at the 
entrance to the park."

"No prints found there?"

"This is a park." Williams's anger was obvious, 
David's calm tone of voice only aggravating him. "I 
don't know how it goes in Washington but a lot of 
people visit this park on a daily basis, a lot of 
them use the phone."

"Maybe not so many people visit it, if it took over 
a day for the body to be discovered."

Williams shifted his weight onto the other foot as 
he took a breath in through his clenched teeth, but 
before it could escalate further David's mobile 
rang.

"Excuse me." He stepped out of the group and walked 
towards a clearing, one hand holding the phone to 
his ear, the other gesturing in circles as he 
walked. Shane glanced over at Scully who had 
lowered her gaze to the body before her.

"We'll have that ready for you as soon as we can 
Agent Scully."

"Thank you eh, Det...Shane." Without affording him 
another glance she turned on her heel and walked 
past Williams back towards her car, taking more 
than a few deep-steadying breaths. 

With her heart racing, thudding mercilessly against 
her chest, she sat into the car and watched through 
the rain rivulets on the windscreen as Detective 
Williams headed for a different car parked near a 
crowd of reporters. An officer approached him, 
handing him a sheet of paper. They laughed about 
something she'd never hear and her heart lurched at 
the sight of his familiar smile. 

Her deep breaths were shaky but stopped suddenly as 
his head whipped round and their eyes locked. He 
paused in the rain, his car door hanging open and 
with one foot in it he looked straight through the 
crowds spotting her with ease in the passenger seat 
of the car. For a moment she wondered if he would 
approach her but with an almost imperceptible nod 
he stepped in and drove off.

"Dana!" David called through the glass and with a 
sharp knock making her jump her hands flinching off 
her lap. She rolled down the window and he leaned 
in a deep frown on his face. "You okay? You seem a 
little out of it."

"I'm fine." Her tone of voice left no room for 
argument, so even without believing her he let it 
be.

"I was speaking to the coroner and he said the body 
will be ready for autopsy at St Mary's in half an 
hour."

"Good."

"I'll drop you off."

He walked around the car and sat in, pulling away 
without another word. Scully watched the unfamiliar 
buildings go by, all of it suddenly taking on more 
meaning. 

Another city...another state.... why Seattle? She 
thought repeatedly until her head spun with 
questions she was afraid would never be answered.

A warm hand curled around her trembling fingers and 
she looked down in confusion only to see David 
offering what little comfort he could. Out the 
window she could see the entrance to the hospital 
and she realised she had missed the complete 
journey.

"Dana...if this case is too much..."

"No. The case is fine."

"What's wrong? I know something is wrong."

"David please just-," she began trying to pull her 
hands out from beneath his, but he gripped them 
tighter cutting her sentence off.

"Don't insult me with platitudes, you know me 
better than that...and I, you." She could tell he was 
angry but the words hadn't quite formulated in her 
own mind, the explanation, the possibilities were 
so astounding to her she was afraid to face them.

"David...let me figure it out for myself before you 
drag it out and psychoanalyse it to death."

She pulled her hands away from him and climbed out 
of the car, slamming the door behind her. There was 
nothing David could do but watch her small form 
rush into the hospital. He sighed and turned the 
car back on driving it back to the precinct. 

He found it teeming with reporters eager to get the 
scoop on the murders, many of them speculating on 
the serial killer identity, shouting names to the 
police who walked by. In his dark suit and pale 
blue shirt, with navy tie, David strolled by them 
without much hassle, flashing his badge to the 
officer on the door to gain entry. 

"Agent McLane?" The desk sergeant called out to him 
as he walked by.

"Yes?"

"Det Shane is in his office...wants to see you as 
soon as you get in." He pointed a large arm across 
the room where David could make out the frosted 
glass windowed office with two figures pacing 
behind it.  Cautiously he approached hearing the 
muffled words, amongst them his name. 

"I can't work with the FBI Agents, Gary. I won't 
work with McLane."

"I need you on this one Frank, you can't drop the 
case now." He could hear Detective Shane saying 
earnestly before knocking lightly on the door. It 
swung open with a whoosh of air and she saw 
Williams and Shane standing shoulder to shoulder on 
the other side.

"Gentlemen."

"Agent McLane. Isn't Agent Scully with you?" Shane 
asked exchanging a swift glance with Detective 
Williams.

"She's gone to perform the autopsy. I was hoping to 
listen to the phone call recording."

"Think we missed something?" Williams challenged.

"No. But maybe you weren't looking for it."

"Listen, we're all on the same team. We all want to 
catch this guy," 

Shane said placing a hand onto Williams's chest and 
pushing him back. "That's all I want," David said 
sincerely.
Williams brushed Shane's hand away and stormed out 
of the room, wishing for a thick door he could slam 
but settling for a swinging one to bash against the 
wall.

***

Seattle General Hospital
Basement Morgue Laboratory.
18th December 2004
7.05 PM

Always her least favourite part of the autopsy 
Scully blew the air up her face to move that last 
annoying strand of hair that insisted on tickling 
her cheek as she sewed the Y-Incision closed. 
Pulling the wire tightly, she made sure it was 
sealed and even before knotting the thick blue 
twine and cutting it off. Considering the body 
would be clothed for the burial or cremation she 
often wondered why she took such care with the 
sewing. Care to make sure it was tidy, clean and 
sealed. 

With a wry smile she ran her gloved hand over the 
stitches, searching one last time for imperfections 
before placing the paper garb over it and wheeling 
it back into the morgue storage. As she removed her 
gloves and facemask and tossed them into the trash, 
her phone rang loudly in her coat pocket that had 
been draped over a chair by the door. Not 
recognising the number on the ID she answered it 
cautiously.

"Hello?"

"Dana, It's David. I'm calling from the precinct."

"How is it going?"

"Nothing. The tapes are useless."

The static on the phone swirled between them for a 
moment and Scully felt a pang of guilt at her 
earlier outburst, but knew to speak of it now would 
be to make an issue of it.

"How did the autopsy go?" he asked into the 
silence.

"It will be tomorrow before the blood work gets 
back but I see no signs of drug abuse, no pin 
pricks from injections, no bruising or muscle 
tearing that would indicate that he had been tied 
up or forced."

"Any sexual trauma?"

"There was some scratches on the inside of his 
thigh but I would be hard pushed to say it was due 
to rape, or for that matter consensual 
intercourse."

"The first body was found to have marks and 
bruising that would indicate rape, but the autopsy 
didn't go any further into it save for mild 
external examination."

"With minimal external evidence I made no further 
examination either."

"I see. Oh I think our presence here is being felt 
more than we realise."

"What do you mean?" She was untying the surgical 
scrubs from behind her with one hand but her hand 
froze at his words, a mental image of Det Williams 
watching her before he got into his car flashed 
before her.

"It seems that Detective Williams isn't too fond of 
the FBI. 
Especially me."

"Oh?" Afraid to move she listened carefully to his 
next words.
"I wouldn't worry about it, he'll learn to live 
with it. So are you done? Do you need me to pick 
you up yet?"

"I eh, I have some paperwork to do first. I'll just 
get a cab back to the motel."

"No Dana, let me pick you up," David pleaded.

"I have tons of reports to fill in and I'm going to 
be here for a while. I'll give you a call when I 
get back."

"Okay. Call me if you change your mind."

She was smiling as she put her phone back into her 
coat and turned towards the changing rooms. The 
shower she took was warm but offered little comfort 
as she battled with her mind to regain control of 
her thoughts. The brown goatee that seemed out of 
place, the dull grey eyes that used to twinkle 
bright green under the light of the slide projector 
and the strong broad shoulders that still stood 
tall if a little stiffer. 

Wringing her hair out she turned off the water and 
stepped out; wrapping her towel around her body she 
padded softly out to the changing room and sat 
heavily onto the bench. Sitting still watching the 
steam curl off her body, she shivered 
uncontrollably almost enjoying the sensation of 
goose bumps rising up her arms and shoulders. But 
as a shiver danced across her back she stood and 
dressed quickly.

The room plunged into darkness as she hit the light 
switch with the palm of her hand and she paused a 
moment in the silence, her heart bouncing in her 
chest. She gritted her teeth and fixed her coat 
lapels before walking through the lab to the 
reception to call a cab. The med student on night 
shift smiled warmly at her, happy for the company 
as Scully waited for her lift.

After only a few moments of stilted conversation 
the bright lights of the taxi shone through the 
windows accompanied by a loud bang of his horn. 
Scully pulled her coat closed and hunched her 
shoulder before pushing past the large double 
doors. The entrance to the hospital was lined with 
a floral garden and several benches. She spied her 
taxi waiting by the curb; the engine running and 
she hurried her pace in the light snowfall, with 
anticipation of the heat that awaited her in the 
car. But as she glanced up to check the distance 
left she spotted a figure sitting on one of the 
benches. It turned towards her at the sound of her 
perfunctory footfall but she tore her eyes away 
fixing them on her target; the door handle to the 
back of the taxi.

One gloved hand reached out to take the handle but 
she turned back to the figure only to see him 
standing, his arms hanging loosely by his sides and 
his eyes boring into her. He visibly shivered 
before her and she wasn't sure if it was because of 
her or the cold. Her heart stopped as he closed the 
distance between them with three agonizingly slow 
steps, his grey eyes steady his hands shaking.

"Scully..." her name was but a whisper almost stolen 
by the wind but she grasped it tightly, holding 
onto it for dear life. Her eyes watched his mouth 
curl around her name, his goatee making his bottom 
lip seem even fuller than she remembered. Slowly 
her eyes travelled over his face until finally 
their eyes met, blue crashing against grey, 
confusion and hurt hammering between both of them. 
"Scully." He said her name again, this time louder.

She forced a deep stinging breath past her lips and 
into her lungs, filling them wide and slow, all the 
while willing the threatening tears into the pit of 
her stomach. She stepped back from the barrage of 
emotions he was giving to her all of a sudden 
realising her heart hadn't stopped and it was 
beating faster and louder than ever before.

"Dammit Scully...say something." Her face was pale 
and thin, more so then he remembered but then it 
had been four years, he chastised himself silently. 
Four years of loss and pain.

"Mulder."

His name her voice; it was all he could do not to 
break out in joyous tears, having longed to hear 
her utter his name. But nothing he imagined could 
have prepared him for the husky whisper she 
emitted.

The snow was forgotten swirling between them, 
sprinkling their hair and shoulders with delicate 
flakes. But as he moved his hand, lifting it up to 
touch her cheek a loud horn from the taxi made them 
both jump, startling her out of the daze and she 
stepped back closer to the car.

"Hey lady you want a lift or not?" Her eyes darted 
to the driver then back to Mulder's new unfamiliar 
face, confusion claiming sanctuary across her 
worried features.

"Come with me," he whispered but she shook her head 
in short sharp shakes.

"No...no I have to..."

"Scully." He reached his hand out to her, his palm 
open and facing the sky, hoping she'd take his 
invitation, but she stared at it blankly. "We have 
to talk."

"I'll meet you at the hotel Mulder." He nodded 
silently, retrieving his hand, placing it into his 
pocket.

"The Sleepy Hallow right?"

"Yeah. Room twenty four."

She bustled herself into the cab sinking into the 
warm air, wanting to watch him fade away as the 
driver took off, but forcing her eyes to stare 
straight. He stood still as the cab left, watching 
its lights long after they had disappeared.

"Lovers quarrel?" the driver asked with an 
exuberance Scully could have lived without.

"He's not my lover. He's not even my friend."

Taking her tone as hint enough the driver 
concentrated on driving through the snow, wishing 
suddenly that he had taken the direct route instead 
of the scenic expensive way. Her head spun with a 
million thoughts of a million outcomes. She'd 
imagined what would happen if she met him again but 
now with the confrontation looming closer, her mind 
seemed to have given up on how to handle it. For so 
long she looked and for so long she failed only to 
have him walk back into her life like this. Her 
anger grew as she thought of how he would have 
known she was arriving but she had no idea, no 
preparation. 

For a moment she contemplated calling Frohike to 
see what background he could find out on Frank 
Williams but she decided against it, wanting to 
hear Det Frank Williams story first. With a scoff, 
she pushed aside her growing tears and focused on 
the linear patterns the sleet made on her window. 
Her hand fumbled for her phone and she dialled AD. 
Skinner's number before cancelling the call and 
shoving the mobile back into her pocket. Anger 
again rising in her throat as she tried without 
success to ignore the concern and delight she could 
feel bubbling in her stomach. The lights of the 
motel suddenly came into view and all reservations 
she had about remaining calm were thrown out the 
window.

She paid the driver and walked past the reception 
towards her room, shuffling her keys to get the 
right one ready. Looking up her breath was stolen 
at the sight of him leaning lazily against her 
door, his hands fiddling with his tie. He looked up 
as she approached, a crooked half smile playing on 
his lips, testing her attention. He stepped aside 
for her to open the door but her hands froze making 
her drop the keys. He watched patiently as she 
swiftly bent to retrieve them then tried again. 
When she dropped them the second time his hand came 
out to stop her from reaching them. 

"Here let me." He was standing directly behind her 
and his voice; a mere whisper, kissed her ears. She 
seemed to flinch at his touch so he released her 
and grabbed the keys from the ground. He reached 
around her, not bothering to move his feet, 
enjoying the closeness of her body as he slotted 
the key into its hole and turned the lock.  The 
door opened a fraction as he took his hand back 
letting it rest on her elbow. 

She pushed it open further and walked quickly in, 
wanting to be rid of his body heat and intoxicating 
essence. She busied herself removing her coat and 
hanging it into the wardrobe when she heard the 
door closing and sensed rather than saw him 
standing by it, watching her intensely. Taking a 
deep breath she forced her heart to steady as she 
turned to face him. 

He stood tall, his hands still hanging limply by 
his sides. She noticed his hair was black, 
suspiciously black, almost matching the colour of 
his goatee. His eyes, grey instead of the green she 
remembered so vividly, but the wide jaw, the 
unmistakable nose, the small mole on his right 
cheek bone were all there.

"It is me." He seemed to wait as she scanned him 
with her eyes, noting the long study of his hair 
colour and the slight frown at his eyes. "They are 
lenses I had made. Finally got rid of the glasses."

"And the color." Her voice had more bite than she 
intended but she wasn't sorry. "What are you doing 
here Mulder?"

"Working."

"Detective Frank Williams?"

"I had to do something." He looked away for the 
first time, pulling his over coat off roughly and 
piling it onto a chair beside the door. She noticed 
he was shivering and his shirt was damp.

"How long were you waiting out side the hospital?"

"Since I saw you walk in." His voice was beginning 
to shake now; the adrenaline from seeing her was 
wearing off and the effects of the cold wet snow 
was finally getting through to his senses.

"Mulder you're freezing."

"Funny thing about snow..." he stammered through 
chattering teeth.

She pulled the blanket off the bed and went to 
drape it over his shoulders. He didn't move as she 
reached over him, making her stretch to her fullest 
reach.

"Why?" With her hands on his shoulders holding the 
cotton blanket tightly around him her voice 
travelled up to him with ease, holding out her 
heart to him, showing him her vulnerability in all 
its glory.

"I had too." He whispered, looking down to her, 
wanting to smile but holding it all back. "I had to 
leave."

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you say 
goodbye?" Her heart was slowly being reeled back in 
and he watched achingly as she started to hide it 
from him, replacing it with a stoic expression, her 
grip on the blanket loosening. He covered her hands 
with his own, keeping them in place, trapping her.

"Because it hurt too much...because I knew you'd 
never let me go...because I never wanted to look in 
your eyes and see the hurt I see now."

Her lips trembled under the emotion he was dragging 
through her heart and body and he released her 
hands pulling the blanket around them both. She 
buried her head in his chest, his smell unforgotten 
and completely overwhelming as she took deep shaky 
breaths, inhaling what she could, believing he'd 
disappear as soon as she looked away.

He absorbed her sobs, stroking her hair with one 
hand and her back with the other, he dared to reach 
out his lips and tentatively touch her forehead 
with a gentle kiss. They stayed like that swaying 
slowly to the music neither could hear until 
finally she managed to free herself from his grip 
and stepped back. Rubbing her face with her fingers 
she tried in vain to get rid of her tears only to 
have more fall in their place.

"What are you going to do?" he asked softly.

"Do? What do you mean?"

"I mean are you going to tell them who I am?"

For a moment she just looked at him blankly not 
understanding what he was saying, but slowly her 
bewilderment was replaced by anger.

"Is that why you came here? Is that what you wanted 
to talk about?"

"No Scully that's not why I came here."

"Well if it's your secret you want kept safe don't 
worry about it, Det Williams. I won't tell a soul." 
She yelled at him stepping back even further and 
resting her hands on her hips.

"Scully...let me explain...it's been a long time-." He 
stared to talk but she cut him off with a small 
wave of her hand.

"Yes it has. But you left of your own choice. I 
looked for you Mulder, you knew I would, but do you 
know what I found?" She walked past him to the door 
and held it open. "Nothing Mulder. I found nothing. 
You know I may have stopped ringing hospitals and 
getting photos of any John Doe's but I never 
stopped looking...I. Never.  Stopped. Looking."

"I'm here Scully, it's me!" he walked over to her 
and shut the door, ignoring her silent plea for him 
to leave.

"Is it Mulder?" Her voice was shaking with her last 
ounce of strength backing away from him as he 
stepped closer forcing her against the wall.

"Trust me Scully." His words were spoken softly but 
shot through her painfully and she suddenly found 
the power to fight back.

"I did Mulder. I did trust you but you threw my 
trust away. You don't get to have it back."

"Scully..."

"Leave."

"But Scully let me-."

"Just Leave."

The anger in her voice forced him back a step and 
he turned to put one hand on the door handle. 
Twisting the knob he pulled it open a little, his 
eyes still on her shaking form. With a lingering 
glance he grabbed his coat from the chair and 
dropped the blanket in its place. Walking out of 
the room he closed the door softly in his wake. 

She stood behind it, reaching out to lock the bolt 
when there was a loud knock from the other side. 
Looking through the spy hole she saw Mulder 
standing there looking at the door expectantly. As 
she opened it and stepped back he walked in, 
pulling the door from her hand and slamming it shut 
behind him.

"Mulder..." She stepped back.

"Wait."

He followed her in, grasping her arms a little more 
forcefully than he had intended and dragged her 
against him. He held her in place for a moment 
looking down at her confused face without moving, 
his hand reaching up to caress her features. Her 
eyes closed under the gentle stroke and she 
shivered beneath his fingers. 

He slowly bent down to her, his breath racing 
across her skin making her shiver until finally his 
lips brushed hers. With a stifled moan he kissed 
her harder, exploring the moistness of her mouth, 
until he felt her whimpering beneath him, unable to 
stem the tide of passion that welled unbidden 
between them. Slowly his kiss faded and eventually 
he pulled away, gazing down at her intently as her 
breath came in short sharp spurts.

"I always promised that if I ever saw you again I'd 
finally get up the courage to do that." His voice 
was raspy and spoken through swollen kissed lips 
but she didn't mind. It was all too sudden when his 
fingers released their grip on her arms and he 
stepped back, his own breath heavy and labored. 
"Goodnight Scully." His hand reached up and cupped 
her chin as his thumb brushed her red parted lips 
before he turned and left the room. 

She stood transfixed to the spot, watching the door 
almost hoping he'd return, but knowing he wouldn't. 
The phone rang loudly shaking her from her trance.

"Hello?" she said breathlessly her hand clutching 
the cuff of her blouse.

"Dana, it's David."

"Oh hi...David."

"I just got a call from Det Shane. They found 
another body."

"Okay. I'll be ready in five minutes."

She put the phone down and hurried into the 
bathroom to wash some freshness into her face, 
still feeling the sweet burn of his mouth on hers. 
Changing her blouse quickly she rushed out to the 
car where David was waiting a grim smile on his 
face. As they pulled out of the motel car park she 
spied the black car across the street, the 
unmistakeable figure within it watching her. She 
tore her eyes away and focused back on David's 
words as he told her about the body that had been 
found.

***

Pike Place Market
18th December 2004
8.36 PM

Red blue flashing lights tainted the beautiful park 
side in a way Scully had witnessed too often. She 
stepped under the umbrella with David and 
approached the small crowd gathered by the large 
ornate fountain. Her head was swimming with all the 
sensations she'd struggled through in the past 
hour, but with some effort she managed to push them 
down and pull her usual facade in place. 

"Can you believe this sleet?" David said, keeping 
up the idle chatter he'd started in the car to 
little or no reaction from Scully. 
"So much for getting away from the weather in DC."

"Yeah." He glanced down at her but held back his 
thoughts as Det. Shane turned to them. 

"Male victim, ID unknown at this point. We're 
running prints." Shane stepped aside and showed 
them the body. All the air rushed out of Scully's 
lungs as her eyes fell upon the headless naked body 
that lay on the fountains edge. Seeing it lying in 
an open body bag, she couldn't help her curiosity 
that propelled her closer for an examination. From 
behind her David held out a latex glove with a grim 
smile.

"I'll leave the honors to you."

"Thanks." She slipped it on before touching the 
body finding it cold even through the light 
material of the glove. In the centre of his chest 
was a small plate nailed vertically along his 
sternum with a six-inch nail at the top and bottom 
of the plate. "It's another bible quote."

"What does it say?"

"'He that believith and is baptised shall be saved; 
he that believith not shall be damned'."

"Mark 16:16," Shane said grimly.

"More bible quotes...more religious connotations." 
David stood away from the body his hands resting on 
his hips in plain frustration.

"From the look of this neck it seems the head was 
taken clean off in one go. The wound was 
cauterised...maybe to stop bleeding."

"I have some guys going over the surrounding area, 
if there is anything to find they'll find it." As 
if on a cue an officer suddenly yelled out to them.

"Shane...Shane, we got something over here."

They all turned to the voice and started to rush 
over to where a young officer was waving at them. 
He pointed at the small line of trees beside them 
and at first nothing could be seen until David 
switched on his flashlight. 

"Oh my god!"

Speared on a five-foot high metal pole was the 
victim's head, the mouth closed but from the corner 
of the lips a dark brown substance seeped out; the 
eyes were open and gaping at them.

"The head..."

"I'm going to need that head in the morgue for 
examination as soon as possible." Scully seemed to 
have switched something on inside of her that 
activated the macabre routine she was normally used 
to.  "Nobody touches it. Get it wrapped and ready 
to go."

"And the body Agent Scully?"

"Yes the body too."

"Who found the body?" David asked reaching for his 
notebook as 
Scully took his flashlight to examine the head 
closer.

"Students from the university were setting up a 
table for a demonstration that's being held here 
tomorrow."

"Have they been questioned?"

"I hardly think-"

"Have they been questioned?" David asked again.

"Yes. They are at the precinct right now."

"Where is Det Williams?" he asked glancing at 
Scully, who turned to Det Shane to hear his answer 
only to see him watching her with a careful gaze.

"He's on his way."

"I'm going to travel with the corpse." Scully moved 
away from the head and tore her gloves off as she 
walked back to the body and helped to pack it for 
the quick journey to the hospital.

"How is eh, Agent Scully?" Shane asked David as 
they watched her walk away.

"Agent Scully is fine. Why do you ask?" David 
asked, knowing a leading question when he heard 
one.

"She seems a little on edge...has she said anything 
to you?"

"About what?"

"About...anything?" Shane wiped his forehead with the 
back of his hand, his eye catching the gruesome 
sight of the head pierced by the metal pole.

"I'm not sure I know what you were talking about. 
If you are concerned about Agent Scully's ability 
to work on this case-"

"No it's not that at all. Forget I mentioned it." 
Before Shane could dig a deeper hole he nodded his 
head and walked away. 

From his parked car, Mulder could see Scully 
barking orders on how to pack the body and preserve 
evidence and it brought a lonely smile to his face. 
Her movements were small and measured, not an ounce 
of energy wasted as if she had practiced the night 
before. He hadn't forgotten how small she was, 
coming up to only his shoulder but he had failed to 
remember how big her presence was when in full FBI 
mode. 

Nothing was stopping her from getting the body 
packed up as soon as possible and getting it to the 
morgue. He contemplated pre-empting her journey and 
going straight to the morgue but his heart lurched 
at the thought of being face to face with her 
again.  He grabbed his phone from the seat beside 
him and called Shane's cell number.

"Gary, I'm going to go straight to the precinct."

"Alright, Frank." Mulder could see him searching 
Scully out of the crowd. "Have you spoken to Agent 
Scully?"

"Briefly." Shane seemed to whisper into the phone 
as if Scully could hear him but Mulder could see 
they were too far apart. He had explained to Det 
Shane that he had worked with Scully before and it 
ended badly as a way of explaining the bad reaction 
he was sure he'd receive from her. "I think it's 
going to be okay."

"Good. Good. She's taking the body to the morgue 
and McLane is hanging around here for a while 
before going to the precinct."

"Okay, I'll go back and talk to those kids. Is the 
area being canvassed?"

"As we speak."

"Talk to you later then Gary."

***

Seattle General Hospital
Basement Morgue Laboratory
18th December 2004
9.15PM

Scully reached around to the back of her hair and 
tied it up before pulling the surgical top over her 
head. She couldn't believe she was back in the 
morgue with a different body. It lay before her the 
head sitting a foot away from the neck in a 
disturbingly fascinating way.  She pulled the small 
table with her tools closer and hit the record 
button on the tape player.

"Special Agent Dana Scully performing autopsy on 
John Doe ID number IQ2 272MH. Black male 
approximate age...mid thirties. Victim has been 
decapitated with possibly a sword or long thin 
blade. No blood at the scene or on the victim 
although clothes had been removed and the body was 
found floating in water." 

She leaned in closer to the chest to examine the 
plate. Leaning behind her she grabbed a large 
silver tool that looked like needle nose pliers. 
"Body looks to be dead for under 24 hours. 
Submerged in water for at least 10 of those hours.  
There is a metal plate...looks like plated tin...nailed 
to the sternum.  The top nail is embedded at the 
broadest part of the sternum, the manubrium, by the 
clavicular notch. The plate is six and a half 
inches in length but only four inches wide." 

She measured it with a tape that she quickly 
returned to the table behind her. Reaching the 
point of the pliers under the rim at the top of the 
plate she held it tightly and pulled it up trying 
to loosen the nails. After some struggle she 
managed to pry it free, and pulled it until the 
nail was revealed fully.

"The nail was embedded to its head; the now dried 
blood flow from the wound suggesting the victim was 
alive for the nail insertion." Scully suppressed 
the shiver she could feel building up at the base 
of her spine and moved to the other nail. Pulling 
it free she held the plate up to the light and saw 
that it was the back of a car licence plate.

"The second nail, also embedded to its head, is 
possibly at the facet for the third costal 
cartilage. I will expect to find extensive damage 
to this bone on opening. This plate...appears to be a 
coated licence plate, possibly coated in silver to 
make the engraving easier. Partial... SVG...can't read 
anymore. Run the ID through Washington state 
registered cars."

Looking down at the body with the two ugly holes in 
the chest she       noticed a lack of other 
injuries. No abrasions on the wrist or ankles to 
suggest he was tied, no bruising on the body after 
a beating and without a tox screen she couldn't be 
sure if he had been drugged or not. The head had 
been cut off, probably after the plate had been 
nailed to his chest and ultimately killed him but 
she couldn't find any evidence of a struggle.

"A willing victim?" she said aloud letting her 
words help her thoughts form theories. "A willing 
participant."

Her phone rang loudly in her pocket and she walked 
over to get it, her eyes still on the severed head.

"Scully."

"Agent Scully, it's Gary Shane here. I think I have 
something here 
you might like to see. I can't seem to get hold of 
Agent McLane."

"What have you got?"

"The bodies ID. It's Reverend Thomas Jefferson. He 
runs a small Baptist church on Mercer Island, 
holding weekly baptisms in Lake Washington. The 
Church of The Holy Gospel."

"The other victims, were they religious men?"

"Jared Wilks was a Pro-Life Activist, arrested on 
more than one occasion for disturbing the peace." 
Scully could hear him shuffling papers as he 
searched for the information she asked for. 
"The victim from this morning is still 
unidentified. His prints have been run but no 
results as yet. Rev. Jefferson was on our books 
after rioting breaking out in ninety-four beside 
his church. He was arrested for his involvement in 
instigating it."

"But we have no record of the victim that was 
crucified?" She glanced over at the body her frown 
deepening.

"No Ma'am."

"Did you say you couldn't get hold of Agent 
McLane?" she asked his words finally sinking in.

"Yes Ma'am. I thought he might be there with you."

"No, I presumed he was at the precinct."

"No Ma'am. He might be gone out with Frank. He's 
gone to the church of the Holy Gospel to speak with 
the congregants."

Scully rolled her head around her neck to release 
the tension she could feel building, but her only 
release was a small sigh.

"Okay. I'll see if I can find anything here. Thank 
you for the information Det Shane."

Scully slowly made her way back to the body, her 
feet tired and heavy and her head swan diving into 
oblivion. She put on fresh gloves and returned to 
the body. Carefully picking up the head she placed 
it into the scales and recorded it's weight.

"The head weighs six...six point three pounds. The 
wound has been cauterised possibly with a hot 
blade. The epiglottis has been blocked off with wet 
leaves." She turned the head up to look up the open 
neck. "And the mouth filled with a red viscous 
substance... unknown...it smells sweet...it smells like..." 
She leaned in closer to smell the dark brown sticky 
liquid. "It smells like vanilla."

***

Outside the Church Of The Holy Gospel
18th December 2004
9.35PM

Mulder tuned off the engine and looked out the 
window to the dimly lit church across the road. 
Singers could be heard from where he was sitting 
and he imagined a large colourfully dressed choir 
swaying at the alter creating the beautiful music 
from nothing but their voices, holding an elegant 
rhythm with a raucous clap of their hands. It had 
been a long time since he had walked into a church 
on anything but Police business and tonight wasn't 
going to be any different.

He was grateful that the sleet had held off for a 
while as he climbed out and locked his car behind 
him. Fixing his jacket he scratched the beard on 
his chin and ran a lazy hand through his hair. The 
weather had convinced most people to stay at home 
so he crossed the road with ease only stopping at 
the sound of someone calling his name.

"Det Williams...Frank Williams."

From across the road he saw McLane glancing for any 
traffic before walking across calmly to meet him. 
Mulder rested his hands on his hips and shifted his 
weight onto his other foot.

"Agent McLane, are you following me?" there was no 
trace of joking in his voice as he glared openly at 
the other man.

"Yes. Actually I was." Mulder frowned unable to 
hide the surprise he felt from his honest answer. 
"I was pulling into the precinct when you went 
storming out. I tried to get hold of your number 
from the desk sergeant but to no avail so I 
followed you."

"Is there any reason you are following me?" Mulder 
turned to go into the church leaving McLane to 
stand on the path or follow him some more.

"I was hoping we could talk."

"I'm about to go in here and announce that we found 
the Reverend 
Jefferson decapitated in Pike Place Market. Can it 
wait?"

"The body has been identified?"

"Yes."

The large wooden door opened silently without the 
ominous creek Mulder expected. They walked though 
the plainly decorated lobby to a larger room where 
a small elderly lady sat knitting at a desk. In 
front of the desk was a large sheet of cardboard 
announcing tonight's mass in honour of Reverend 
Jefferson.

"Excuse me," Mulder said pulling his badge from his 
back pocket.

"Hello young man," she answered smiling openly at 
them in their out of place suits and stern 
expressions. "Are you here for the mass? You're a 
little late but it's okay to go on in if you like."

"No ma'am. I am Detective Frank Williams; we're 
here about Reverend Jefferson." Her face stilled 
before them, her smile frozen awkwardly over her 
lips.

"Dear lord he's been found..." she exclaimed with a 
sigh. "How is he?"

"Is there an orator of the church we can speak to?" 
Mulder asked softly.

"Ms Elizabeth Jackson...I'll go fetch her right 
away."

With surprising agility the elderly woman left her 
knitting on the table and rushed through the large 
oak wooden door behind her.  Mulder put his badge 
away and subconsciously fixed his tie. He glanced 
over his shoulder at McLane who was standing still, 
his hands clasped before him.

"Never gets easy does it?" McLane said looking up 
to see Mulder looking at him covertly.

"Pardon?"

"This part of the job. Telling family, friends, 
congregation..." he swept his hand around the room. 
"This part never gets easy."

"How long have you been in DC?"

"Six years. I was working SWAT for a while but the 
old ticker was acting up so I went to ATF four 
years ago."

Mulder looked him up and down guessing he was about 
the same age as himself. 

"How long have you been working with 
Agent...Scully, is it?"

"We had our first case in November 2001. And now 
run a team in the ATF department."

"This case isn't exactly ATF material."

"No its not, it was a separate assignment."

Mulder reigned in the rest of his questions, about 
the confident man standing beside him. There was so 
much he wanted to know, to hear, to ask but he was 
too used to being careful to blurt them all out. It 
was just then when the doors opened again, emitting 
the same elderly lady with a younger one on her 
heels.

"Detective Williams? You found him...how is he?"

Before Mulder could stop her she grasped one of his 
hands in both of hers and gently squeezed. He 
glanced down at her smooth ebony skin covering his 
weathered hands and his words stuck in his throat.  
"I'm afraid to say he's dead. His body was found in 
Pike Place market about 2 hours ago."

"Oh dear lord!" As she released him her hands flew 
up to her mouth to catch the cries that threatened 
to overwhelm her. "What happened? 

Who did this?"

"We're looking into it Ma'am. When did Rev 
Jefferson go missing?" 

Mulder asked turning at the movement that caught 
his eye and saw McLane pulling a notebook from his 
pocket.

"It was a little over a week ago. He was last seen 
here in church after choir practice. He was gone 
for three days before we called police."

"Why so long?"

"The Reverend likes to go on retreats...without 
warning he'd be gone over night or even for 2 
days...but when we found his car outside his house, 
and his cat trapped inside, the alarm went up."

"Did the Reverend have any enemies? Any disgruntled 
members?" McLane stepped forward as he asked his 
question.

"He was so active in the community...I know for sure 
there were people who weren't happy about his 
baptisms in Lake Washington."

"He was holding baptisms in the lake?"

"Last Sunday of the month we would hold mass by the 
lake and baptise children or new members. We have a 
license from the city but there were always 
protesters there trying to disrupt the ceremony."

"Would you be able to name anyone in particular?"

"Bishop Michael Reilly. He was generally at the 
head of the protest.  Something about the 
sanctification of Christ not manifested in the 
lake. He wasn't too fond of us using the lake. I 
think he was afraid of us stealing his St Oliver 
Church parishioners."

"Anyone else?" 

"No. Bishop Reilly was generally the only one who 
openly spoke out against us."

"Thank you Ms Jackson. You've been a great help."

"Will the body be released soon for a service?"

"It will take a couple of days but we'll let you 
know as soon as we can."

Mulder pulled his card from his shirt pocket and 
handed it to her.
"If you think of anything else, please call me."

"Thank you detective Williams I will. God Bless."

Both of them offered her rueful smiles as they 
turned to leave. The rain had started again but the 
snow held off. Mulder bee lined for his car and 
tried to ignore McLane hot on his heels.

"Is there anything I can help you with Agent 
McLane?"

"You know where this Bishop's church is?"

"Yes."

"Then there is something you can help me with." 

Mulder watched incredulously as McLane circled the 
car and stood by the passenger door.

"Don't you have your own car?"

"Wouldn't this be more economical?"

"Listen McLane I don't know where you get the idea 
we're working this case together. I work alone."

"You guys called us."

"I didn't call you."

"Yeah I get that impression Frank. Is it all 
authority you have a problem with or just the FBI?"

"Authority?" Mulder laughed harshly, no mirth in 
the brutal sound.  "What makes you the authority on 
this case? So far I have yet to see any illegal 
consignments of Alcohol, Tobacco or Firearms...but if 
I do, you'll be the first to know," he sneered.

"So you are obviously the expert in the religious 
fanatical serial killer department then Frank?"

Mulder winced inside at the description but showed 
no reaction to McLane.

"I think you are in over your head McLane. You and 
that pretty little partner of yours should go home 
before one of you gets hurt."

"Your some piece of work Frank. This whole attitude 
you got going on, is it working for you? Is it 
helping you get over whatever the hell it is that 
messed you up?"

Steely grey eyes darkened in the light rain. David 
watched him unflinchingly as his brow furled and 
his lips tightened. He could almost see the tension 
building in Frank's throat as his pulse beat faster 
against his jaw. 

"Hit a nerve did I Frank?" McLane circled the car 
again to stand next to him. "Look I don't care if 
you like me, I really don't. But I do care about 
getting the job done, about catching this guy. So 
lets put our differences aside and get this done." 

"You forgot the bit about wanting the good people 
of America to be safe once again." Mulder opened 
the car door and climbed in. "Leave the 
sanctimonious crap at home McLane its not going 
help you here in the real world."

He slammed the door and drove off leaving David 
standing in the drizzling rain with his hair stuck 
to his head and rivulets of rain running down his 
neck, under his shirt collar. 

He reached into his pocket for his cell phone and 
dialled Scully's number as he walked to his own 
car. She answered almost immediately her voice low 
and rushed.

"Dana, are you okay?"

"Yes I was just finishing up with the body."

"Reverend Jefferson?"

"Yeah. Were you talking to Det Shane?"

"No. Williams."

"Oh?" He wasn't sure but he thought he heard her 
breathing stop.

"He's got some chip on his shoulder. Asshole."

"What happened David?" Her concern was obvious but 
the reason not so.

"I was pulling into the precinct car park as he was 
storming out. I tried calling him but I couldn't 
get him so I followed him. It turns out he was 
going to the Church of the Holy gospel."

"Reverend Jefferson's Church."

"Yeah. We went in asked some questions afterwards 
out on the street..."

"What David? What happened?" He pictured her in 
green scrubs leaning against a tall silver counter. 
These morgues always had tall silver counters he 
mused and it helped him to see the details.

"We had a few words. He's not too fond of me...of the 
FBI, or of you for that matter?"

"Me?" she exclaimed suddenly.

"He's got a problem with authority."

"Look David we need to find a connection between 
these victims." She tried to push away her 
questions and focus on the case. "We have three 
bodies, one unidentified and still no leads."

"Speaking to the secretary of the Holy Gospel 
Church she gave a name of a Bishop who openly spoke 
out against Rev. Jefferson."

"Is Detective Williams gone to speak to him?"

"Yes."

"I'm almost finished here then I have to go back to 
the precinct to finish off my report."

"Okay Dana, I'll pick you up at the hospital in 
about twenty minutes."


***

END OF PART 2

***