Darkness Ascending: part seven of ? A WIP....

rated: R

Other parts ( all like little soldiers lined up for battle, or candies
to be eaten, if you so prefer) can be found at Ephemeral. You need to
read the rest of the story to understand this. Type in "Darkness
Ascending" in the little search engine, and it'll come up! Part one has
the disclaimer, distribution, and a reminder that this is my first
story, so go easy on me!

THANKS to the readers, especially those who press " reccomend" and
those, like Nikki, who send feedback!

Enough drivel! Special thanks to *my* beta, Jessica....who doesn't ever
think in  parenthesis, as she is prone to remind me, from time to time.
I lOVE YA, and thanks,  thanks, thanks!

SO...without further meanderings on my part...here goes!

part seven : yellow

Mulder strained to hear the conversation going on outside Scully's
bedroom. He placed his ear against the wall, but heard very little. The
only sound he made out for sure was the closing of the door, and he
instinctively knew that Scully was gone.

Where did she go?

He sat in the darkness in a small chair at a desk. Scully's desk, it
was just a small plywood thing, cheap.She had a tiny leather journal in
the front.He touched the smooth cover in the semi - darkness, almost
wanting to read it, if it meant discovering who  Scully was  now. A
different person and yet so much the same.

He knew the distance of  ten months was daunting: ten months that he
had no conscious memory of, and he felt it was a strong disadvantage to
not know what was going on in her head. Not that he had always
known what was going on in Scullys head, but....

It made him feel dizzy. The Scully he knew before had never been so
openly emotional. The Scully he knew before was always assertive, she
didn't falter, she had the strength of a thousand women. But now,
now he saw a part of her that was forgien, something he couldn't
identify, the toll of days that he would never know. Days lost to him
forever.

He looked over at the slumbering Joan, and reflected over the past day,
this day that had been both incredible and unbelievable. He wondered at
her cryptic words : the words that sounded as though they were spoken
by Cassandra. Cassandra Spender who had been missing for years.
All coupled with Scully, all centered around Scully. He wanted to
protect her, to take away that look of dread in her eyes and  see the
skeptic smiling back at him, ready to defeat his theories, but always
losing or winning gracefully. He had liked it best when they ended up
meeting in the middle.

But this wasn't work. It wasn't some case and it wasn't June 2000. Ten
months had come and gone for this woman, a Dana Scully that he
sometimes didn't recognize. It had only been a few hours and he felt
listless: he felt powerless and inept and he hated it. He hated that
she reminded him of his mother in  the hotel room that for him was only
a few days ago.

And the girl on her bed was her daughter, and in part, his too. He
genetically helped in creating her, albeit against his will. She felt
that she was made for him...no, his father, his real father, had told
her this. Probably a lie. Everything else was lies bespecked with truth
in this new different world.  He was sickened by  the thought of his
father even near her, breathing in her Scully smell and standing close,
blowing the dark smoke on her skin. Scully's skin that was whiter now:
more pure. Her hair was darker, her eyes seemed lusterless , she was
ebony inside. He didn't know how to fix it and it made him feel
helpless.

Useless, empty.

Scully.

In the little room that they had been in, listening to Joan, he
couldn't believe Scully, she had believed in so much.More than in his
wildest dreams. And when he dreamt of her she was someone else, a woman
in yellow: a flowing dress that made her hair seem to glow and while he
dreamt he saw what red really was. What she really was.  He understood
her, to the bone, in the lucid state that was dreaming. In wakefulness,
in reality , he couldn't even comprehend her thoughts, her feelings.
He thought of the moments before a knock on the door had led him to
this temporary exile. He had actually felt himself grabbing her, in
that tiny room that wasn't her *real*  living room,  her living room
was in an apartment in Georgetown that * was* Scully, lots of windows
and light. Real. Not a cardboard box. He wondered if he was gripping
her shoulders too tightly, but he needed  to feel her . He didn't
believe that she was acquiescing to everything, without even a facade
of disbelief. Her eyes reflected total trust, and he craved it from
her. He wanted it to jump from her chest and swallow him whole.
Things shifted, then, the look of her, so small beneath him, it made
him realize again what was always an undercurrent with Scully. That
hadn't changed, maybe it never would. And scant inches from her face he
didn't want to stop, he wanted to taste this new non skeptic Scully. He
wanted to thank her personally, physically, for being alive. But, he
couldn't trespass against her, she was too pure. He could not get past
that, taken in by her overwhelming beauty, he couldn't mar her
flawlessness.

Sick, sick, sick. He said to himself, and breathed, unsteady. Where was
she? What was going on?

***

Scully ran down the hallway, following the girl that led her to the
bleeding man, sprawled in the corridor, the half light of awareness
brightening his features. She looked at the woman: shaking, pale,
making little noises and pointing at him.

" He just wanted to get me flowers" she said, and then wailed,
painfully, tortured.

" Can some one help us over here ?" Scully called to the by- standers,
who were congregating noisily around the incapacitated man. She checked
his pulse, it was thready. She looked at the gashes crisscrossing his
chest. It didn't look encouraging.

Two men from the small crowd came forward, ready and willing to help,
looking at the injured man's flesh in horror. She gestured for them to
handle the man gently, counting to three before picking him up,
and moving him to the lab area where a table was waiting. The two men
deposited the injured and stepped away, looking at Scully expectantly,
and she pulled on latex gloves. With the familiar "snap, snap" they
closed around her wrists and she ripped off his shirt, struggling to do
everything at once.

In the corner of her eye she saw Marguerite stepping forward, coming
through the two men and the patients girlfriend, who was still crying
loudly.

" Everybody out", Marguerite said authoritatively, and pushed the
girlfriend and the two helpers out the door. Marguerite rolled up her
shirtsleeves and grabbed gloves from the opened box.

"Maybe this is a good time to let you know I'm a doctor too, Dana".

Scully looked at Marguerite, confused by her sudden declaration. After
a brief pause they registered, and yet Marguerite made no move to
elaborate. Resigned to accept Marguerite's silence, Scully nodded and
returned the concentration to her patient, and simply welcomed the
extra set of hands.

" He went outside" Scully said," and was attacked. His girlfriend says
it was an alien. Looking at the injuries,I'm inclined to believe her."
Marguerite nodded, and strove to staunch the blood flow, cleaning the
wounds simultaneously.

" He'll need sutures," Marguerite said, and Scully nodded.

They worked on the unconscious man  quietly, saying few words aside
from basic treatment protocol.

Scully paused  her ministrations to insert an IV- Catheter into the
mans wrist , to give injections of sedative and pain medications.
Marguerite looked over and nodded excitedly when Scully hooked the
EKG to the mans chest and the heartbeat was returning to normal, the
blood flow was stopping, and his color was definitely better.
They both leaned over him and worked on his sutures, closing up the
gashes in companionable silence.

When they were done,  the man was in markedly better condition than
when they'd started.

Scully looked over at Marguerite, who was watching their patient with a
look of professional compassion.

" Why didn't you tell me that you were a doctor, Marguerite?"

" I've had my reasons. Good ones. I haven't practiced in over seven
years. I used to do...research...before the virus.

" What kind of research?" Scully asked, and Marguerite shook her head.

" I can't tell you that."

" Why?"

" For my own protection. I got a second chance at life, maybe a crummy
one but one all the same. I don't want to jeopardize that, let's leave
it at that I was happy to assist, all right Dana?"

She stripped the gloves from her hands and Scully walked over to
Marguerite. She put a hand on the womans shoulders and spoke softly.

" I'm here, Marguerite. As a friend."

" I'm sure you mean that, Dana, but I can't confide in you without
risking your own safety".

Scully looked at Marguerite a long moment before speaking. Over the
past few months she'd thought that they had formed a fragile
friendship. Marguerite had come to her for assistance in sleeping and
with horrible headaches. Until now, they had not spoken of the
past, their lives before, or even their outside interests. But somehow
Scully felt compelled to help her, she saw in Marguerite's eyes a
pained sadness that was all too familiar, and she knew it could be
lonely, living in such silence. Reluctantly, following her base
instincts, she cleared her throat and began.

" I don't know why I want to press this, Marguerite, but something
tells me to. I have a feeling I can help you, if you let me." .
Marguerite looked pained, and then managed a tight smile.

" You could help by loaning me a change in clothes, actually."
Scully frowned, and then nodded. Marguerite wasn't going to reveal
anything: so be it.

" All right, follow me."

Not until Scully reached her door and was unlocking it did she realize
who exactly was behind her door. She froze, suddenly, and turned to
face Marguerite.

" Dana? Is something wrong?" Marguerite was speaking, and yet at the
same time, Mulders voice, loud and booming: " Scully, is that you?"

" Who is that?" Marguerite asked, and then blushed " I'm sorry to be so
rude, Dana. Where are my manners."

" No, Marguerite, it's...uh, a friend of mine. A good friend."

" Dana, I thought..."

" What, that I had no friends here, Marguerite?" she tried to sound
like she was only being sarcastic, and not so worried..

" Well, do I know him? Can I meet him?" Marguerite asked, pressing at
Scullys door, fingers demanding entrance.

`Shit, shit, shit' she thought to herself, a resonating litany.

" Scully?" Mulder again, damn him, she could recognize the little
distressed note  in his voice, in a second he'd be roaring her name
down these hallways.

" Just hold on a sec, Marguerite. Let me go and tell him something,
I'll  be right back".

She crept in the door and closed it on her friends perplexed face.

" Mulder," she spat   " what the fuck do you think you are doing?
Practically yelling out my name. You aren't supposed to even *be*
here!" He looked at her, an expression of chagrin on his face.

"Sorry, Scully, I got worried. You just left, I didn't know where you
were, or-"

" It never ceases to amaze me how you think that I am entirely lacking
in self- sufficiency."

" That's not the truth, Scully, you know that." He gave her a long
look, and she knew he meant what he said.

" Hide in my other room - the office -Don't come out. I have a guest. A
friend" she was still whispering, a melodramatic hissing that she hoped
Marguerite couldn't hear from outside the door.

" Go." she mouthed, pointing, and then turned to let in Marguerite.

"Sorry." she said to her, thinking, `if  Mulder makes a sound...'

He had gone into the other room, leaving Joan to her bedroom and Scully
hoped Joan was still sleeping soundly. Just in case, she looked at
Marguerite and smiled.

" I also have a young patient resting in my room, so I'll have to ask
that we be really quiet. Can I get you a drink?" She was talking
rapidly, she knew Mulder would probably recognize the antsy tone and
was holding his breath from within her office. She hoped he
felt guilty for flagrantly disregarding their safety. She was sure he
did.

" No, Dana, if I could just use your restroom and borrow a clean
sweater, I'll be fine."

" Sure" Scully said, smiling again wondering  when was the last time
she'd done so much false smiling, It hadn't been since the FBI, not
since the days when she was riding high with Mulder, covering his
ass.At least some things never change.

She was almost having fun until she heard Joan's near -whisper.

" Dr. Evans?!"

Scully saw Marguerite first : she froze in transit to the restroom, and
turned slowly, in the direction of the voice. Scully started praying to
God to paralyze this moment in time and let her re-arrange everything,
but He apparently wasn't listening.

" Joan" Marguerites eyes had filled with tears, her voice a mixture of
awe and shock.

" I thought that...." Joan said, and Marguerite crossed the room to
her, looking with wonder at Joans face, her hair, her everything.
Breathing her in and smiling.

"Look at you, Joan ! If Stephan were here, he'd be overcome with joy.
You look beautiful!"

" So do you" Joan whispered, solemnly, and the two embraced briefly.
Mulder cleared his throat from the other room.

" Sorry to interrupt." he said coolly.

Scully turned to face him, appraising his look of intense scrutiny of
Marguerite. She glanced at Marguerite, who had her hands on Joans frail
shoulders. Scully walked over to Mulder, and placed her hand on his
arm.

" Mulder, it's okay." she said, softly, yet he didn't listen. He stared
at Marguerite and Joan. Marguerite said nothing, looking frightened at
the sight of Mulder.

" Who are you? How do you know Joan?" He demanded, and then turned to
face her, "Scully?"

Marguerite paled, and gave Mulder a brief look before speaking ,  " The
three of you? How did you manage to find each other ?" She then closed
her eyes " Joan".

" Exuse me, but WHO ARE YOU?" He was getting upset. Scully moved
towards him.

" Mulder, I already told you, Marguerite is my friend." She gave him a
long look, asking him with her eyes for him trust her, before answering
Marguerite.

" Well, in a round about way, yes. Joan cut her hand mid morning and
ended up my patient. She told Mulder I was here and then he came to
verify that it was me. And then..."

Scully looked at Joan, the briefest of smiles on her lips " Mulder
brought Joan here to see me."

" So you know" Marguerite said, nodding already, not waiting for an
answer.

" Stephan thought that there would be no way for you three to cross
paths. Dana. I don't want you to think that I intentionally deceived
you."

" Well, it's a little late for that, you obviously have."
Scully pursed her lips, " Mulder-" she warned. He glanced at her
quickly.

Joan was still at Marguerites side, looking up at her reverently, and
Scully felt a twinge of jealousy. For some reason the touching
interplay between Marguerite and Joan seemed too intimate.
It could just be that she was exhausted! it was already three in the
morning and today had certainly been eventful.

She broke the tense  silence in the room " I want to know what you know
about Joan,Marguerite. But I want to hear it in the morning. I've been
up a long time, and today has been one emotional roller coaster after
another. And with Joans injury...I think it's best that whatever
conversation that is about to be started be started tomorrow."

She saw a disappointed look cross Mulders features. He never could give
up easily.

" Scully..." he began, but stopped when she put her hands on her hips.

" I think we should all stay here, together." Joan said, with absolute
conviction.

" Why? I don't even know who she-" he pointed at Marguerite
accusingly " is. You may trust her, Scully-"

" I do trust her, All right, Mulder." He just looked at her. " Okay?"

" Please, it's safer that way...I don't think that it would be a good
idea for us to all part right now." Joans tone was beseeching.
Marguerite nodded " I do agree with Joan, but it might be suspicious
for us all to be missing. I'll watch over our patient, Dana, you get
some rest. I'll be back in the morning and we can all.....talk."

" Thanks, Marguerite" Scully smiled wanly at her, and then added " if
you wouldn't mind asking how the girlfriend is holding up, I'd
appreciate it."

" Sure." Marguerite said, and then looked at Joan " I'll be back in the
morning Joan, go and get a little more rest."
Joan nodded and obeyed, returning to Scully's room silently. Marguerite
waved a curt goodbye, giving Mulder a slight nod before leaving the
room.

With the two gone, the room became silent, and she turned to Mulder.

" Can you trust her completely, Scully?" he asked,solemnly.

" I can Mulder. She's my friend, and I think that Marguerite is only
trying to protect me and Joan...and herself by not telling me who she
is. She has been a patient of mine for months, and she and I have
become close. That to me is important, Mulder. Living here
for so long with no one to talk to...it makes the relationships I do
have special. I know her, and I know that for whatever reason she has
for keeping this information from me, it is a good reason. We have all
been through so much, Mulder. I think you are forgetting
that. In some ways it's easier to trust in her because whatever the
purpose behind her deceit, I believe it was fear that motivated her.
She is a good, kind person. You can trust her, Mulder. You can."

" But you still don't know who she is. Maybe she's working with
Them...have you considered that?"

" I have, I did. In a split second everything ran through my mind, but
when she saw Joan,the response that she had, it made me trust her."

" Jesus, Scully, you trust everything now." His tone was bitter, and
she recoiled as if he had struck her.

" What's going on Mulder, why are you so angry? Do you want to tell me,
or do you want to brood it over in  silence?"

He opened his mouth, but she spoke again before he had a chance to
answer " You know what, Mulder? I don't really want to hear your
answer. It's three in the morning and I'm tired. I've had enough
excitement for one day. Go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."
She walked over to a small closet and pulled some blankets and tossed
it on the couch.

" Just like home" he murmured.

She went to the bedroom and grabbed an extra pillow, amazed to see that
Joan was sleeping again, and soundly at that. She watched her form a
few moments and then went back into the small living room, tossing the
pillow in his direction.

" Good -night, Mulder".

" Night, Scully."

***

It was a long time before Mulder slept. He stared at the ceilings for
at least thirty minutes, turning images of Scully in his mind and
dissecting every one of them.

Who had she become?

No answer was lurking in the darkness. He closed his eyes, finally, so
that he could dream. And he saw her : bathed in yellow light.
The colors coursed through the sky in vivid arcs, and he watched them
explode all around in  wonder. She was smiling, and laughing, and
pointing at the colors.

" Show me!" she said, happily, and he stepped towards her, towards the
pale lemon light.

She had on a saffron dress, her hair was effulgent orange. He could see
her, she was waiting. He took a step forward...

And woke to Joan above him,smiling.

" Wow" she said to him " Wow".

***


" What- " Mulder was saying, sitting up, looking around.

" I've never seen the sun" Joan smiled at him, a silent thank - you in
her eyes, and touched his head.

" You were dreaming." She said, matter - of - factly. He was dreaming
of her mother, and she was so beautiful.

" Sure I was. I don't remember what I was dreaming, though". She
frowned. He was lying, He did remember.

" You were dreaming of her." She watched in amusement as his eyes
widened.

" Who?" Scully asked, coming into the room from the kitchen, and Joan
smiled at her mother warmly." You". She answered.
Her mother looked a little shocked " Me?"

" Of course, you. He always dreams of you, but..."

" Joan !" Mulder said, visibly coloring " you can see my dreams now?
What's  going on?"

He looked bewildered. Joan thought it was funny.

" It just happened. Before I met her I could only sense things, hear
faraway voices: nothing concrete. But now everything is vivid and
completely visible. I can see..more. It's not all that I want, whenever
I want, it just comes and goes. I have no control over it. I
just happened to look at you, and see saw that you were dreaming. It
just popped into my mind, into my field of vision, and I saw it."

" What was it?" Her mother asked.

" Nothing!" Mulder said.

" He dreams in yellow." was all she said.

" Yellow, Mulder? Why yellow?" her mother was extremely interested in
his answer. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him.
Mulder was definitely uncomfortable, and she wondered what he would
reveal.

He cleared his throat " Yellow is my favorite color. Being
colorblind...growing up, well, once I was coloring a tree in school and
I painted the trunk green and the leaves purple. Everyone laughed. From
then on the only colors I could trust were yellow and blue. And
of course I picked yellow as my favorite, the sun, the stars, the moon
are all yellow. Sunflowers have yellow. So, I dream in yellow, I
suppose." He breathed a heavy sigh and looked down.

" So I'm yellow in your dreams?" she asked, carefully.

" No, you're wearing yellow" he said. He didn't look up.

" You were all in yellow light, I think it was the sun" Joan added, and
saw Mulder grimace.

" Where's Marguerite?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

But her mother stood perfectly still, looking at him, not wavering her
glance from his sitting form. Joan knew instantly that she was terribly
confused. It washed across her face, dancing in the corners of her
eyes. She looked for a long moment, Joan felt her willing Mulder to
look up at her. But he never did.

***


" I'll go check on Marguerite" she announced. Joan was looking
admonished, Mulder was sullen. Neither said goodbye.
Leaving the tiny space, she paused before going across the hall to
ponder what had just occurred. Whatever Mulder dreamt meant something,
he was obviously shaken by Joan's narration. She needed to talk to Joan
about that, about the essence of privacy in some of these things,
especially dreams. She'd been lighthearted about it at first, she
didn't expect Mulder to have dreamt of anything important, and
certainly not anything to do with her.

But....yellow. Yellow.

Why did he dream of her?

She hardly could recall her own dreams if they weren't nightmares. The
most common nightmare was the one she had of Mulder, calling to her,
beseeching.

She never found him. That dream had bothered her until yesterday. He
was here now, and she had so much to thank God for.
If only this could be easier. She sensed a growing impatience with
Mulder, and she thought it might be directed at her. Yesterday in the
living room he had gripped her arm tightly, tight enough to cause a
tremor run through her skin.....

She sighed.

She approached the door to her lab, looking in first to assure that
Marguerite was alone.

She wasn't. The girl friend of the patient was in with her, and they
were talking softly.

Scully rapped on the door softly, and Marguerite gestured for her to
come in.

" Dana, this is Sarah, Sarah, this is Dr. Scully."

" Hi, Dr. Scully...thanks for your help with Chuck. I wish he hadn't
gone out there. I should have stopped him...." her voice wandered off,
and her eyes filled with unshed tears.

" It's okay, Sarah." Scully said softly, and the girl nodded.

" How is he?" she asked Marguerite.

" Surprisingly well. Very lucky...it could have been fatal. I thought
that Sarah and Chuck could visit while we talk."
Marguerite looked at Scully and Scully nodded her assent. " All right,
that sounds fine. We'll be back in a little bit, Sarah".
Marguerite rose and walked to the door with Scully in tow.

" Before we go in there, I need to tell you something. We need to get
out of here. All of us, as soon as possible. The men who run the
project don't tolerate mistakes, and this is a colossal one. For the
four of us to be together...it's too dangerous Dana. I have a plan, a
suggestion. I'll answer your questions on one condition : that we make
arrangements to leave this place as quickly as possible, hopefully
tonight."

Scully motioned for Marguerite to sit in the chairs inside her lab
office, and stood, arms over waist, and cleared her throat.

" All  right, then, I'm listening."


End part seven

Part eight: Mendacity


"I was a doctor before I did research. I'd worked in the ER for a few
years after finally finishing med school. I specialized in genetics,
and  hoped to find a good job doing research that would support me
and keep me interested in the field. Working in the ER has a way of de-
sensitizing  you to human life, it makes you tired and ready to do damn
near anything to sleep. One night, on a long shift, Stephan was
called on a consult. He came in like he owned the hospital, ordering
the ER doctors about...I was one of those doctors. It was incredible,
in an instant when I met Stephan, I felt like I had finally met my
match: professionally and personally. We worked together for weeks in
the lab on a difficult patient. I had just handed my notice to the ER,
fully ready to do research, and by then I was in awe of him. He has a
mastery of the lab, procedure, God, he was brilliant. I would just
watch him work and be thrilled by the sheer power if his hands, his
mind, his drive. It was nearly seven  years ago...amazing that it's
been so long already.

"After the research at the hospital was completed, he left. I thought I
would never see him again, and I'll admit to being a little emotional
about that. I was impressed with how well we worked together and his
skills were such an attribute...It had been a few weeks and he came
back into the hospital, as I was finishing up my time there. He'd
gotten a grant for transgenic research, and he wanted me to join his
team. I was overwhelmed, it was so sudden, and I still wasn't sure
about where I wanted to begin my career, but I reluctantly accepted. It
was an honor just to work with him.

"We didn't start with humans that early, instead we used animal
specimens, and we got so very close then, everything was so....well,
novel. We'd stay up all night and into the  morning working with DNA,
encoding it, placing it in new patterns to watch what would happen. He
and I worked like that, totally oblivious to anything but the purity of
our work, trying to accomplish the unbelievable. It wasn't
until the third year that They approached him about working on the
project. For a time, he was silent about the discussion that they
shared, but one night...he came to me and sat by my side, and took my
hand and told me that he'd found the answer to all the dreams he ever
had in life. He told me everything, everything about the project and he
made it sound so....well, beautiful. Pure. I wanted to be a part of it,
but I couldn't just *do* that. I mean, some part of me really thought
it was wrong, but when he said how much he wanted to do it,
I.....I....accepted." She looked up and her cheeks were flushed.

" Do you understand what I'm saying?" Scully nodded, and Marguerite
continued.

" He followed his work at all costs, nothing took priority over that. I
knew that. He wouldn't let anything stand in his way, and for whatever
reason, I accepted it. By then, I knew I'd follow him at any and all
costs, and  told him that I would work on the hybrid project alongside
him. It wasn't a completely professional decision, I wanted to be with
him. I felt...I felt that I couldn't accomplish on my own what we
had successfully done together."

"The first two years were a complete failure, and it  wasn't until we
got the new DNA from Mulder that it all became clear. Stephan was so
excited then at the mere prospects. All of our time, our energy, was
devoted to our work, nothing took precedence.We were nearing the goal,
we could both *feel* that!"

" He didn't truly start to think of himself as a creator until Joan.
All the other female specimens were not little girls, they were  all
experiments. Failed experiments, and they made him bitterly angry. It
was difficult then, a wall built between us...outside of the lab we
hardly spoke. When he perfected the advancing formula, a way to
accelerate growth 330 percent, the results were astounding,. It
appeared that the negative effects of the DNA's mutated form that we
extracted from Mulder when his DNA underwent that metamorphosis it went
through, when it became distinctly alien, weren't evident if cell
growth was so quick. It was only a matter of time before he started
her. I believed it wasn't possible. I was wrong. It was as though
Stephan knew that Joan would be a success. He made her grow so quickly,
it was amazing, she breathed in that false amniotic fluid and survived,
while her little sisters all died from some complication or another, as
always. He called her his " tiny piece of destiny". She nearly spat the
words, some inner bitterness from within. Scully reached to touch
Marguerites arm,acknowledging that time must have been difficult.

"I think he merely wanted her to live, and she did. When he accepted
that, he began to wonder about the implications of the gene splicing.
He wanted her to be perfect, he believed that she would be. Our main
concern was the brain function. There is a very high PSI element to the
DNA, as you know, I....he theorized that she would be psychic,
overwhelmingly so. But it would take time to develop. He knew it
would happen, but in what time frame? His estimate was that by the time
Joan reached fifteen, 33 percent of her psychic abilities would be
realized. I think that was a sound assumption, based on what you  have
 told me. Joan's abilities will only become more pronounced. We knew
that, and inherently wondered if her powers would exceed the limit she
could stand: she can sustain more than a genetic human...I just
hope that she is strong enough to endure...."

Scully looked at Marguerite a long time before speaking. She had asked
to disclose this to her alone, afraid to talk before Joan in that she
may not truly understand, and she was understandably daunted by
Mulder. Scully watched Marguerite wring her hands  before speaking
again.

" I know you must be wondering, how could I do this? I can't be simple
and blame Stephan, but - I blame myself for following him as I did. I
can't help but somehow feel that I played a role in his death, he never
would have been exposed to the virus that day in the lab if we never
worked on the project together. I might have been able to persuade him,
to live by my morality!" she looked away "but he was always so
invested in his work, that took precedence over all else, I knew that,
I accepted that."

" Marguerite, you couldn't have prevented Stephans exposure to the
virus. That would have happened anyways. You can only be blessed that
you were away from the lab the day of the exposure."

" Everyone there died Dana, everyone except me and Joan. I didn't even
say goodbye."

" Why didn't you tell me that she was alive, Marguerite?" Scully
surprised herself by asking, she hadn't expected the words to fall from
her mouth, especially after seeing Marguerite suffer so openly.

" I couldn't" she said, clearly tortured.

" I studied your genes, Dana. I helped to make the pieces fit....you
were a...a...subject to me, a specimen. I'd only seen pictures of you,
dossiers of your life, portraits of your intelligence. They choose you
as a candidate because you held so many excellent qualities....I didn't
allow myself to think of you as anything but. When I realized you were
alive....They asked me to look after you, but I didn't really go along
with that, you became my friend. And what does it matter now,
anyways....we're trapped down here, until the day you realize Dana,
that it's time to go! Time to take you life in your own hands, if that
only means an instant...." Marguerite  was fading again, and Scully
felt angry, but also felt badly for the woman before her.

" I am not a person without feeling, Dana....I just didn't think...I
wanted it to all be simple, I didn't realize then that this was all so
complicated." she buried her face in her hands.

" Marguerite-" Scully began, but stopped. She could think of nothing to
say. Nothing that would remove the guilt that Marguerite was feeling,
nothing to absolve the demons. Part of her didn't even want to. But
she trusted her, she knew that within, Marguerite was a confused woman
who had followed her science blindly; she had followed her partner with
the same energy that fueled her research.

" I didn't even think of Joan as special until she started speaking.
She looked at the world with such wonder, she still does. She has
always been so beautiful, even as a zygote-....Oh, Dana. I wish I had
told you. I wish I had been able to tell you that she lived, that she
was your daughter. I thought the first time I met you that you would be
so proud....but she had to take care of Mulder, we all knew that. We
all knew that her and Mulder had a truly special bond, something
science couldn't explain."

Scully sighed, incapable of speech at this point.

" Dana, I need to help you, and I am going to help you...you, Mulder
and Joan. We all need to leave here, quickly, before They find out that
you know she is alive, that he is alive. We all need to go,  and
soon."  her voice was getting higher.

" Marguerite, calm down. I agree with you that we should leave, but
how?"

" Through the door our patient used...I have a house, in the mountains -
 It has a laboratory...Stephan and  I would go there, before......We
can all meet there. We can't go together....they might find us..."

" Marguerite," Scully said softly, " slow down. You're letting yourself
get upset. Take a deep breath, Okay?" Marguerite nodded " I want you to
wait here for a few minutes - I need to go and talk to Mulder."

***

Mulder was furious.

" You're kidding, right?" He nearly yelled it, and yet Scully looked
nonplused.

" No, I'm not kidding  Mulder." she said in a tone that breached no
compromise.

" You are telling me that you want me to leave here, tonight, without
you...and take Joan and Dr. Marguerite to some cabin in the woods?" He
was yelling now, and couldn't imagine why she couldn't wipe the
expression of such placidity off of  her face. Who the hell was she
anymore?

" Mulder, I'm asking for your help. I want you to take them to a safe
place, and then go onto the cabin, Marguerite will look after Joan,and
then meet us, when everything is safe."

" You want me to leave you here, alone?"

She nodded, impatiently.

" Scully-" he said, and then shook his head " I don't know that I agree
with this...I can't help but feel like she might  be deceiving you"

Scully gave him a cold look, she stood, her arms folded on each elbow,
head turned to one side.

" Mulder, she's been through a lot, like all of us. I honestly think
she made the wrong decisions, but I do think she wants to help us. I
agree that we should leave, for everyone's well being."

He stared at her, a million thoughts in his mind, but instinct,
instinct was screaming at him from all directions; something wasn't
right.

Instinct was interrupted by Scully's ice-edged tone, as though she were
talking to an infant." I want you, Joan , and Marguerite to leave
together tonight. Find a place safe for them to stay. Go to Marguerite's
mountain home and I'll meet you there. It's simple".

" Leave you alone?" he asked, incredulous. Leaving Scully alone was not
an option.Couldn't she realize  this? Had he not said it enough?

She warned him with a voice all too familiar " I'm not -"

" Look , Scully, I know what you are going to say, something along the
lines of taking care of yourself, right? I don't doubt that you can
take care of yourself, but you are my partner, and I won't let you
jeopardize yourself for something that we can't even verify" he was
incensed with her. He'd never heard such bullshit in his life.

"Something * you* can't verify, not me, Mulder, not us, and when has
that stopped you before?  If this were an X- file....wait -" her face
turned to stone, and  she continued,  "- We aren't partners anymore,
Mulder. This isn't the FBI and you aren't going to try to sway me on
this. I'm sending them with or without you. I trust her, I  believe
her, and I want for her and Joan to at least be safe. There's no point
in going over this again."

" Fuck you, Scully" he turned from her, amazed that he could be this
angry and hurt by her words. She wasn't the same person. Not the Scully
he' d known and  worked with. This wasn't some new side of her,
this *was* "her-and he didn't understand the new Scully.

" Mulder -" she said, he face ashen " I'm sorry for the way that
sounded. But you can't tell me if it were Samantha you found here that
you would not do EVERYTHING in your power to keep her safe, and you'd
agree with me that getting her out of here would be your first
priority. I'm asking you becuase I need your help, and were the roles
reversed, Mulder, I'd do the same for you. You should know that. You
should trust me, I haven't done anything to lose your trust, have I ?"

He turned and faced her " I  do trust you Scully...I still and always
will trust you, even if we aren't FBI partners anymore. You
mean.....just about everything to me, okay. When I woke up from months
of suffering through the -virus, I thought of you. I stared at the
ceiling for days, thinking about you. Wondering what happened to you.
The rest of the world was dead, Scully, and I kept fucking thinking of
you! And when I found out from Joan, who just happens to be your
daughter, I was overwhelmed with joy, all right Scully. I thought I
knew you. Before this, you listened to me when I had a hunch about
something, and here I'm just following my instincts,  but for whatever
reason, you don't listen to me anymore, you don't trust me. Everyone
else, every fucking body else in this underground shit hole you
believe in,  but you won't listen to me!" He turned from her, tried of
looking at her too pale face, afraid to see what lurked in her eyes. He
didn't want to feel this way, but it was impossible not to.

" I do trust you" her voice was small, " and if you really trust me -
Mulder, I am asking you to look after them, keep them safe -"

He stood still " I'll do it, I will take them to D.C. put them
someplace safe....and I'll go to this mountain home of Marguerite's,
and I hope it exists. And since I am so  convinced of your self
sufficiency, I'll meet you there"

He felt her place her hand on his shoulder, felt it burning there. He
shrugged it off, not turning.

" Good luck" he murmured, and left the room.

***
The door closed behind him and she closed her eyes tightly. At least he
would go. His anger at her would pass.

She hoped it would pass.

Why was he so upset? He seemed to think she didn't trust him anymore
and that wasn't it. She would always trust Mulder, and no matter what
she said to him in the heat of argument he'd always be her
partner, always be her best friend.

Then why, she asked herself, had things gone so horribly?

It seemed that ever since Joan had sat and disclosed the details of her
life Mulder had been angry.

Yesterday, in the living room, he'd gripped her arm so tightly....

She opened her eyes and walked to the door. He'd get over it, she knew.
He wouldn't be mad by the time she got to the cabin, and then they
would be just like they were before...

What was she thinking? She'd hurt him, she saw it in the way his eyes
had constricted to little slits. Heard it in the way he said " Fuck
You". He wouldn't even turn around. She hadn't been fair to him, but she
wanted him to listen. The sooner they were free, she felt that the
safer they all would be. He'd understand that later, she was sure.

She re- entered the  lab to see Marguerite staring blankly at the wall,
her face expressionless. She hadn't heard her come in, and so Scully
cleared her throat.

" He's agreed to go" She said, amazed at how hurt her words sounded.

" What's wrong?" Marguerite said, turning and looking at her.

" Nothing, I'm fine" she said, trying to have the declaration echo in
her voice.

" No, you aren't" Marguerite said simply.

" Things will be all right. Mulder is worried about....about, well,
Mulder is a man of instinct. His instinct tells him to be wary, but I
think his main objection is in leaving me all alone. He's like that
sometimes. I can handle Mulder, though."

" You were close" It was a statement, not a real question, and her
voice was flat.

" We were FBI partners, we were more than close" Her own voice sounded
so pained.

" I can understand that" She said, nodding thoughtfully, but Scully
knew the womans thoughts weren't solely on her and Mulders partnership.

" Were you lovers?" She looked at Scully, staring into her eyes and she
felt her cheeks grow hot.

" Of course not. Just friends, good friends..."

" Did you want to be lovers?"

Scully was shocked by the question. In her life before few had asked
the question that had so easily fallen from Marguerites lips.

" It wasn't like that - It isn't like that" she said simply.

"But you want it to be?"

" No." she whispered, unsure of if it were a lie or the truth " Things
with Mulder can be so complicated...I never really thought  about that,
I guess"

" You don't have to be completely honest. Stephan and I weren't lovers,
but we would have been. It was just as though I had finally noticed how
it wouldn't be that difficult. All the times I thought of walking
over to him and demanding that he drop the pretense, that I wanted him
to look at me and not just see his partner, but a woman.."

" Marguerite -" She began, but the woman was nodding " It's okay, Dana.
I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought this up, I'm sorry" she stared
again. " It's been so long that I have even spoken of him...and .."
her face crumpled to tears.

Scully walked to her and placed her hands on the sobbing womans
shoulders, hoping to offer some comfort, though haunted by her words.


***

" Are you ready?" Joan asked Mulder, who had a very dour expression.

" Sure. Are you?"

" What is it? "

" Can't you just read my mind and find out?"

" You don't want me to know. What's wrong.? Are you worried?"

" No"

" You're lying"

He just gave her a blank look. Now must not be the right time, and she
nodded " All right, all right. I'll see you in a few minutes. Did you
see all the things I laid out for you? I managed to borrow a sweater
from my friend Tristan. He was very cooperative. It was a shame that I
couldn't tell him that I was leaving. But..."

" Joan, what do you think of Marguerite?" he looked guilty for asking,
and Joan sensed that this was part of his discomfort.

" Dr. Evans? She's a wonderful person. Dr. Daniels and her had
an...interesting relationship. She kind of ran everything, but he was
the man that lived the results. I don't really remember her being around
overmuch when I first woke up, but Dr. Daniels and Dr. Evans did work
on me together, and I always cared about her. I still do. I can't help
but trust her."

" I have a strange feeling, you know" Mulder murmured, his face twisted
in indecisiveness. He turned to her and looked intently into her
face, ".Joan, I don't know what's come over Scully, she's..." he looked
from her and at the bed, casting a glance over the room.

" You are still close, Mulder. It's going to be fine."

" I shouldn't have said anything." he said simply, and then picked up
his bag.

" Of course it will all be fine, Joan...no one's messing with my luck"
he grinned at her lopsidedly, and she smiled back. He was still
nervous, below the surface,and she felt that it all had to do with her
mother, but she said nothing. She followed him out the hall, ducking to
avoid contact. The scary red clock red 11:15. Her mother and Dr. Evans
were waiting on the other side. She was ready.

***

The lab was dark and silent  when Joan and Mulder entered, and Mulder
looked around, to see if there was anything amiss. Suddenly a whisper
emerged from the darkness.

" You're  here" It was Marguerite. She stepped forward, her eyes puffy
and red, and Mulder idly wondered what had made her upset.

" Where's Scully?" He asked.

" In her room. She thought it was best if she didn't say goodbye.
Mulder," she said, giving him a slight smile " she wanted  me to tell
you that she would see you soon, and gave me these vials of the
vaccine. They can be used as a weapon against the Aliens,  which will be
needed, since we have no weapons....and some syringes. One tenth of a
cc. will treat an adult. I'm telling you this in case something happens
to me. The most important thing is to keep Joan safe."

Mulder nodded, and looked at Joan, who looked both nervous and excited.

" Joan, I know you are going to want to look at everything all at once,
but the most important thing for us to do is to hurry once we escape.
We can't stop to look. Once we are safe, I promise, I'll show you
anything and everything. Do you understand?" Joan nodded.

" All right then, last chance to bail out....Joan? Marguerite" Joans
face was electric with excitement, and Marguerites was passive. He let
his eyes rest on the older womans face for a moment, instantly
regretting his quick judgment call. She smiled at him for a moment, and
he lifted the sides of his mouth grimly.

Marguerite left the lab and stealthily walked down the hallway, after a
few moments she motioned for them to follow. They passed Scully's door
and he nearly lingered, wanting to go in and apologize.

But, he didn't. He was confident that she knew, sure that when they saw
each other again, it would be yet another beginning. With his heart
pounding, he took the first step out the doorway, towards the future.

End part Eight.

TITLE: Darkness Ascending: Dissimulation part eight of ? a WIP

BY: Hillary < Phriendly11@ yahoo.com / Phree11@my-deja
Part Nine. Dissimulation

Getting through the dark tunnel was, by far, the easiest part of
escaping. Once she reached the surface, however, that rapidly changed.
The air was rather cool for late April, and there was a sting of rain
that fell from the sky unceremoniously. And the world was entirely
silent, more silent than she imagined.

She hoped that Mulder, Joan and Marguerite were safe.

Today was Joan's birthday. She felt awful for not being there with her,
experiencing the joy of her daughters birthday. The first birthday that
she could witness, that she could share with Joan. A confirmation that
they had found each other, and they didn't have to be alone in this
world any more.  She scanned the empty space before her: nothing.
Whether she was more afraid or more frightened by that, she was unsure.

It had been three days since they had left. In that three days she had
done nothing but pray and feign unawareness of where Marguerite had
gone. On the second day, the smoking man had come to see her.
She covered her nervousness with a mask of despair, feigned mourning
over her partners so- called death.

She hoped that he thought she was crazy, half out of her mind with
depression.

They knew he was missing, and suspected that he was with Marguerite,
yet somehow didn't think she knew. The smoking man  had said nothing to
give anything away, but the way he asked abut Marguerite was
discerning. He seemed more interested in where she had gone than
anything else, and he said with a measured glance that she " Might be
traveling with a young girl, about fifteen." She had to force herself
to remain still when he'd so casually mentioned Joan, her daughter. She
had to swallow all the curses she wanted to fling at him for building
her a life on the foundation of a lie. He disgusted her now more than
ever before, and she would not have trusted herself with a weapon, it
didn't matter that he was Mulders father.

She resolved not to think of it now, running fast alongside the river,
the rain stinging her face and making her feel cold. Nothing surrounded
her, all life was absent. Not even birds, just the sound of the river
below. She tried to keep aware, looking for any sign of alien life
forms in the darkness. She didn't see anything.

The Potomac still appeared the same. The ground was littered with all
kinds of trash, and occasionally she'd passed  a long ago decomposed
body that she tried not to pause over . She forced her mind to remain
empty. Deserted cars, houses, ground all mocked her as she ran.

It was a long while before she stopped.

She needed a car. There was no way to travel without one, and once she
felt safe and assured that she was not followed, she sat along a curb
and surveyed what would serve as available transportation.

She spotted an old Ford Escort. It was silver, and dusty with ten
months of grime and dirt,  a late eighties model. The doors were closed
and she tried the lock; it wouldn't budge. She searched the ground
around and under the car, and was filled with something akin to elation
when her fingers closed around a metallic key box: it was her lucky day.

A gas station was only a few feet away, the first she'd seen in her
mindless run forward.  If her luck was truly with her the car would
start.

With some hesitation, it did, roaring to the most magnificent life that
it could have. She steered it to the gas station and siphoned some
fresh gas from the dead tank. It was incredibly fortunate that they
hadn't shut the tanks off before the power went out, otherwise, she'd
be forced to travel solely  on foot. Afterwards she tentatively entered
the long deserted store. It had been robbed long before her arrival,
but on the counter she saw a tiny pile of sunflower seeds. She smiled,
fingering them gently, and saw the paper beneath them.

It read :

"Intuition- your place, not mine"

She held it close to her chest and scooped the sunflower seeds up,
dumping them into her pocket, happy to have been given a direction,
amazed at the simplicity of fate.


***

The first few miles were treacherous: he turned backwards again and
again to make sure that nothing  was following him and the two women he
had told Scully he would protect.

Her words still stung his ears, and yet he felt guilty. He always did,
though he rarely apologized. He regretted that now. The surface was
dangerous; he thought of her, out here, on her own. Joans placating
words had only been a temporary comfort: to think of her alone now was
devastatingly heart- wrenching.

He didn't want to think about it: he needed to think about moving, and
that was his constant focus.  He couldn't think of anything except for
getting to someplace safe, and sometime soon. Whenever the image of
Scully would emerge in his mind he shook it away, and kept onward.

Joan was suprisingly  silent, although she had promised to be, and yet
he was amazed that she kept it. More amazingly , it was damp and cool
for an April night that was almost near May. This time of year had
always been nearly eighty degrees as far as he could remember, and the
year before   it had been at least seventy. It had to be at least
thirty degrees under that.  Tears rolled down his face from the sting
of the wind. In the last May before this he'd -

He stopped his thought for the world he'd known held no resemblance to
this one: there were no people strolling the side of the river and
staring at the stars, the monuments were silent and dark. After a few
miles they reached a gas station, and he turned, amazed to find Joan
looking petrified and Marguerite being mildly soothing.

" Hey," he said " It's okay. I think we can relax now" both did,
visibly.

" Why don't we take a look inside here, maybe find some snacks that we
can carry along with us?  And then we'll find a car and get some gas
and find a nice place to stay. All right?" they both nodded, both
silent, Joans face white and Marguerites expressionless.

He turned and entered the deserted gas station, long ago looted for the
money it had but with partially full shelves. The beer and cigarettes
he noticed were gone, but he smiled to see bags upon bags f his
favorite sunflower seeds.

" There is a God," he murmured, and glanced around as he opened a bag,
taking a handful and beginning the ritual that he'd so missed.

The floors were dirty and tramped with mud, but hat suprised him was
what appeared to be fresh, human footsteps.

" Someone has been here" he said to himself, and could hear Joans
whisper in the background, followed by Marguerite's soft whispers.

" See this?" she was saying, He didn't bother to listen.

He needed to leave Scully something to let her know that they had made
it this far. This was the first landmark he'd seen so far and he was
sure that she would see it too, and would stop, maybe to find some food
or a car.  Scully thought like him sometimes, after all.

He found a piece of paper and scrawled a note, placing a pile of
sunflower seeds on the counter, right where he knew that she would
look.

He motioned for Joan and Marguerite to follow him, suddenly amazed that
they had come so far, already, and that things were obviously looking
very promising. He couldn't imagine why they didn't let anyone go free
if they choose.

He imagined that no matter how safe it appeared now, that was
temporary. Marguerite was looking at him, and he wondered if he had
missed something, and cleared his throat.

" Let's find a car. Joan, any look good to you?"

***

The world is a beautiful place, even in the silent darkness, Joan
thought to herself.

Mulder was driving the car, and Dr. Evans sat beside her in the
backseat. She'd never ridden in a car, it felt exhilarating, kind of
scary, but a good scary.

They had seen no one and nothing  since they had left, but it was still
amazing. The stars came out after a while and she could almost count
them, they seemed so bright. And she liked the sound of Mulder,
crunching on his Seeds as he called them, though they tasted salty, too
salty, to her, too reminiscent of tears.
But no matter, he liked them. And Dr. Evans would whisper things in her
ears about what a flag was and that was the Washington Monument. And
there were big trees with pink flowers that she could see as they drove
by.

They were going to her mothers house. Her old house, her house before
this. Mulder wanted to show her a picture her mother had of one of her
sisters, one named Emily.  He wanted her to see the way that her mother
had  lived before this.

Joan had never been happier. She felt safe. She knew within that her
mother was safe, and that was a happy feeling. Her mother was worried,
she sensed  that too, but as the miles passed it grew more distant. And
Mulder was worried, but he didn't let it show. He was worried about her
mother. He couldn't help it, and for some reason she found that to be a
happy thing too. Everything was happy, she was finally alive and in the
morning the sun would be shining.

Mulder would tell her when she shouldn't look. She tried not to, but
sometimes she got glimpses of bodies in the street, bodies that were
mostly bones and torn clothes. Bones that were old and gray and looked
rough, like they had been sitting in the sun for countless years, not
only ten months.

When they passed them on the road, she closed her eyes.

***

" So, are you and Dana close?"  Mulder looked over at Marguerite oddly.
She was looking at him intently, and it made him feel doubtful of her
again: as though he were some type of...specimen.

They had gotten to Scully's apartment a few hours earlier and Joan was
sleeping in her bedroom. He and Marguerite had said very little the
entire car trip, and now, to hear her asking such an obscurely
personal question was unnerving.

" We're partners" he said simply, not looking back at her, instead,
surveyed  Scully's apartment. They had found candles under the bathroom
sink. Marguerite lit them, and Mulder walked around her apartment,
suddenly missing this life more than he had ever before. Missing Scully
more than before because there really was no one else, and he needed
her. He looked at the centerpiece on a half table in her foyer. Nice.
He never really noticed her decorating skills before this.

" I know that, but..." Marguerites voice annoyed him. He didn't like
her, he couldn't trust her. He wouldn't even be sitting here with her
weren't it for Scully, and her insisting that he *could*
 trust Marguerite. But something  about the enigmatic Dr. Evans didn't
bode  well.

" I don't think it's a good idea for you to be asking personal
questions about Scully and my  relationship." he said coolly, and
walked into the kitchen. It was still so neat, like she had only left
it yesterday. Like she could come home any minute. He heard
Marguerite's voice muffled from the other room.

" Why do you call her Scully? Never Dana?"

He came out of the kitchen, biting back a scathing comment regarding
her abundant interest.

" I've always called Scully Scully. That's her name. I like to call her
Scully. Dana doesn't sound right, coming from me."

" Maybe you don't want to get too personal."

" Maybe you should not be so concerned with why I call her what I call
her.    Does it matter?" He took a drink from his water.

" Are you lovers?" she asked, in a tone that was conspriatory.

He spat the water all over the floor in utter shock " What!" he
demanded, nearly choking.

She looked as though she would laugh at him. " Are you lovers?" she
repeated, solemnly.

" No! We're partners, plain and simple. I'm tired of this rhetoric, Dr.
Evans. I'm going to sleep."

" It's Marguerite." she said, and then added as an afterthought " You
know, Fox, you can trust me."

" Not Fox. Keep it at Mulder. Good Night" he made his voice as icy as
possible.

Couldn't she get the fact that he didn't want to make friends?

***

Marguerite watched him go  into the living room, and sighed a sigh full
of disgust.

Damn him, she thought to herself.

She'd wait a few minutes, and think things through. So far, she had
gotten nowhere. Mulder didn't want to tell her anything, and it
frustrated her. He didn't trust her. Not that she blamed him. Not at
all.

After all, she couldn't be trusted.

Dana had been the easy one. Dana Fucking Scully. Her face popped in
Marguerites mind and she strove to grind it out. He'd told her that
before all this, the two FBI agents had been close. So close that they
could tell when the other was in danger. So close that they couldn't
keep real secrets...they were that connected. A truly enviable
relationship.

It seemed though, and it was an assumption, that that closeness was
somewhat shattered. Dana Scully had lost her edge. She used to be
strong, but ten months of utter hell had made her rescind her strength.
How exhilarating.

She'd been so easy to manipulate. It was too easy, almost, the way she
had accepted that story of unrequited love between her and Stephan.
Maybe on Stephans  part, she thought to herself, and smiled/  He  had
been such  a pathetic man. He had worshipped her. He hadn't been the
genius behind the project, Marguerite had been. It was I, she said to
herself, that convinced that pathetic piece of shit to work with me on
the Project, to engineer Joan and make her a perfect weapon.

A weapon they could loose if Mulder and Scully got too close again.

It was good that Dana trusted her. He'd been right about how she would
believe the story so sadly
close in circumstance  to her own. A bunch of well constructed lies
that Dana Scully had nodded her head to, reaching out, trusting in
the " friendship" between them. Friendship. Dana Scully was just a
tool.  A piece of the puzzle. A bothersome hindrance that had to be
tolerated.   Marguerite hated that, she wished that they had been more
careful. HE should not have been so greedy with his son,she thought
bitterly. It reasserted her hatred for Mulder. How could he have been
given so many gifts? To hold so many talents and a fucking radar for
the truth. How glorifying it would be if he wasn't  so essential.

Had only the two not crossed paths again, and she loathed Mulder
because of it .  If Mulder had only not waken up for a little while
longer. If only Joan had never met him. Joan was the mistake in this.
She should have known. Stephan had. He cared so much about the little
bitch. She's just a project, Stephan...that same argument night after
night after night after night. Fucking redundant. The most emotional
son of a bitch, he wanted to think of her as her father.... Well, well,
well. She certainly had resolved that. This was her damned project.
Screw them if they wanted to mess it up. All of the scientists,  all of
them, they all sided with him. That she was more than a biological
entity....they thought she was a person, with a soul. You can't think
that way in Science. You can't follow your "heart" on these things.
That was the central difference between her and Dana Scully. So smart
in her life before this, and yet her life was nothing but her work,
nothing but her partner, which brought her back to the reality of the
situation.

 The tender relationship between the two agents was fledgling at best.
It was practically non-existent. But beneath the surface the two had
such a powerful attraction and desire for the unknown that Marguerite
could *see* it  in Dana Scullys eyes. If she looked hard enough, she
could see it Mulders too. No matter what little walls he wanted to
build up around himself. They were pathetically lonely in the life
before this. That in itself was sad. Loneliness must be universal for
those two, she thought to herself, and nearly laughed.

She wondered how much time had passed...two minutes, five, ten? She
could blank out for hours, in the thinking.

He was waiting. She needed to go to call him. She knew that was part of
the plan, no matter how involved in her thoughts she got. It would work
out, of that she was positive. Everything would  be fine.

She pulled the pack of cigarettes from her bag, she'd kept them hidden.
She'd even found a few more packs at the gas station. While Mulder was
at the gas tank she stuffed them in her purse, what a lucky find.

It was he who got her in the habit. From the moment she met him, she
knew what she was meant to do. Stand by this man, serve him well, and
he will bring you everything you want. Life, happiness, work. She had
him to thank for everything. He had come to her in the winter, five
years ago and told her about the Project. She took no time to answer.
It was all of her dreams, her wishes, her absolute destiny. She had
never been happier, and it was he who she swore to thank, forever.

She lit the Morley as she softly closed the door to Dana Scully's
apartment, clutching the lighter she carried for luck that he had
given  her. All the things she told Dana, all the feelings, they were
like the way she felt for him, in the beginning. She had been so
straight laced, so focused in her work. She had partnered with Stephan
and it was such frustrating work. He was so self- absorbed and blind,
to everything. Life was a beautiful experience to him. It was a
variable to her. She met him, and from that first moment, he intrigued
her. No matter the age difference, no matter the fact that he  smoked
and his voice was raspy from it No matter the look of a man who had
killed countless and seen multitudes dead. In an instant: part of her
composure fell down, and she liked it. He made her feel wild, She lived
her work for him. She made him Joan, from his own son, and from him.
She felt her body flushed as she remembered the night she convinced him
to give of himself to make Joan. To create Joan with his sperm and his
son's beloved partners ova. How intrinsically and beautifully balanced.
Something Dana Scully couldn't ever *really* have. If she knew, would
she be grateful?

She walked to the corner and picked up the phone which she knew would
be working. He arranged for it to work. She dialed the number, it
barely rang.

" Yes." His voice, raspy, burnt. She loved it.

" We've made it to the apartment: has she left yet?"

" Not tonight, but I think she will be soon - tomorrow. I'll pay her a
visit."

" Don't act as though you suspect her." She heard him inhale, and she
did too, closing her eyes and missing him, though she didn't say it.

" I wouldn't. How is the girl?"

" She is fine. Getting a little better at reading minds every day, just
as we expected. I am impressed."

" And Mulder?"

" He doesn't trust me. He thinks I'm out to get him." She said,
wrapping the cord around her finger, looking around the corners...it
was a little disturbing, and still a little cold.

" I should have expected as much. Let me know when he leaves."

" I should think tomorrow. I'll be in touch."

" Yes." He murmured, and then the dial tone.

She took one last drag off the cigarette and stubbed it out with her
toe. Mulder needed to trust her. He had to, no doubt about it. She had
to find a way, a possibility he couldn't refuse. She needed to convince
him where to let them stay, when to leave. Dana could escape any time
now, on her way to meet them, maybe even here. If she went to the gas
station. *If.*

Damn Fox Fucking Mulder and Dana Fucking Scully. They were out to steal
her happiness.


The End of Part nine....part ten coming VERY soon!

Title: Part Ten: Providence

Author: Hillary

Rated: R

Feedback: Please send me some! Please? phriendly11@yahoo.com

Notes/ Thanks: To my beta, Jessica...there is no greater pleasure than
being your PA and thanks for all of the support and encouragement thus
far. Many, many thanks to all of the readers, ya'll all rock.




Part ten: Providence

***

The apartment that she'd fallen in love with  from the moment she saw
it, a cozier replacement from the apartment that had seen her through
Quanitco,  welcomed her as though it were yesterday, not nearly a year.
The door swung open and greeted her, as familiar as anyday.. A
comfortable place; her space.

Mulder had left a note, she touched the corners before reading it,
looking at the light streaming in through the bay windows in front. .
They had the blinds in the same position that they'd always been in.
Just as she remembered.

It was too much. It was all too familiar. She sunk to her couch, it was
plush and soft and beautiful. She had always liked this couch, a lot.
It had cost too much when she'd  bought it, and it was funny to think
that those things didn't matter anymore. Money didn't matter. Nothing
really mattered, if she thought of it in the mere material sense.

Scully forced herself to look at the paper in her hands.

" If you've made it here, I guess something out there is playing on our
team.  Be careful.M & J are safe, I'll see you soon.

M"

She felt tears sting her eyes and wiped at them absentmindedly. It was
so much, still. The days that they had been apart, traveling on
opposite ends but in the same direction, had been more intense than the
months that she'd been in exile away from him. It seemed to be clear
that she needed him, no matter what she tried to say or do to convince
herself otherwise. She wished that he knew that. It was another thing
that she'd neglected to tell him, another small failure to add to her
list of half cherished moments and blunders destined to be permeate
wherever she went. They were a part of her, and that was all she knew.

She traced the silky fabric along the windowframe, and looked into the
gray water streaked streets below. The world was dull, permanently
frozen and left somber and dark. A place that didn't welcome wanderers
and travelers from the underground. She shivered despite herself, and
moved away. Night was falling, the room was significantly darker than
when she'd arrived. Scully moved to the kitchen and took a candle, and
then lit it, and placed it at her table alongside the couch. She sat
and stared into the flame until nightfall cloaked the sky and streets
below in it's inky blackness.

She craved to fill her moments with thoughts of what she would do
afterwards, after she made it to Marguerites cabin, as planned. After
she saw Mulder again and could feel the smallest bit safe. After she
could be safe enough to see her daughter again and to build a
relationship with her. To build a trust. A second chance at happiness.
But they came after tonight, and tonight was long. Long musing at the
roads she'd taken that had led her here, wondering why it all  felt so
familiar to be thinking of Mulder and their work as though it were
yesterday. As though it still existed.

She looked away from the flame, to the window, and back again, in one
moment wishing them to all be as they were. As shed known them. As
life was before.

***

He'd left them at a nice house that he was sure was well enough away
from things that they would be safe. He'd even gotten them a car, and
food, and waxed warnings about Aliens and eating well. Marguerite had
assured him a million times that there was nothing to be alarmed about
before he'd finally left, but not before he took a chocolate hostess
cupcake and popped a candle in it for Joans birthday.

If  Scully was here she would have wanted it to be something nice for
Joan, and so did he. The smile on her face was all the thanks he
needed, she seemed so suprised to hold the tiny cupcake in her hand and
blow out the candle.

And he had almost missed the look of disgust that Marguerite gave him
with Joan beaming at the cake perched in her palm. He would have
dismissed it if the illumination from the glowing wick hadn't caught on
the steel hardness of Marguerite's eyes. But in a moment, she'd erased
it, back to smiling and looking pleased. He almost thought that he'd
imagined it, and perhaps he had.

Maybe one day he would trust her completely, after all, Joan and Scully
both did.

Joan waved good bye when he left, and he had made a point not to be too
enthusiastic about leaving.

" It's only a few days, Joan" he said, in lieu of bon voyage
sentiments.

" I'll miss you, Mulder!" her voice was happy. " Take care of Dana!"

" I will" He'd affirmed, and then drove away, onto the Shenandoah
parkway, to hopefully meet Scully in just a few days in the woods,at
Marguerite's if only she were  so lucky.

And she would be, he knew she would. It was just the waiting, and the
uncertainty of it all,that was unnerving.

Perhaps moreso was the abundant silence that plagued everything until
he drove into the foothills, and then everything came alive suddenly.
The birds that were absent in D.C started chirping, insects buzzed
languidly through the air, and the forest ground was teeming with life.

Weird. It just didn't make sense.

Whats more was the fact that he hadn't seen any aliens, which was a
mixed blessing. It seemed strange that an alien had attacked that man
that Scully and Marguerite had worked on together just feet from the
Underground compound's gates,and yet there were no aliens stalking the
streets above, and little evidence of them either.

Something just didn't seem right.

The feeling of uncertainty expanded when Marguerites house appeared out
of nowhere, and miraculously had a porch light burning. There hadn't
been any electricity in D.C.. and yet, here, in the woods, miles from
true civilization, the lights in her house still worked, were still on,
basking the house in a warm glow, and beckoning to come inside in the
most auspicious of facades.

He looked at the house for a long time before making a decision.

There was a slim chance that the bulb above the door was a 100 year
bulb, after all, Marguerite did seem like the environmentally conscious
type. And the lights inside could be the same. He hadn't seen a soul
for miles, at best he's heard some birds and other woodsy creatures.
Precautions, he neared the door with weapon raised, and peered in
through the window ; he saw nothing.

Just a neat, well decorated cabin. He sighed and tried the doorknob: it
opened without the protest of a lock.

Strange, Mulder thought to himself, very, very strange.

***

The trip was blissfully brief to Marguerites cabin. Scully pulled in a
little after dawn the day after she'd made it to her apartment, and saw
that someone, possibly Mulder, had already arrived.

The sky was shades of pink and purple as she neared the porch and
peered inside, no movement caught her eye and she paused to finger her
weapon stashed in the front pocket of her parka. She took it in her
hands and turned the door handle, which opened soundlessly, amazingly
unlocked.

The downstairs of the cabin was decorated quite tastefully in fall
colours. It was lovely, and Scully took a moment to drink it all in.
The architecture itself seemed older, the exterior was almost all log
and well crafted. She scanned the couch and the kitchen, no Mulder.

Where was he?

She crept soundlessly up the stairs, each step tentative in both a fear
that Mulder may be here and sleeping, or that someone else might be
here and sleeping. Either way, she didn't want to wake them.

The top floor was empty. Nothing in any of the rooms. Her heart was
pounding a dull rhythm on her temple.

She walked back down and discovered by the front door a small door to
the left side. It was slightly cracked, and she toed it open
delicately. A winding staircase greeted her. Bingo.

Scully moved up the stairs with the same careful ease exacted on the
previous climb to the top visible floor of the cabin. This stairway
seemed to be going to the attic. She saw Mulders head facing a yellow -
pained glass window and paused.

The sun was streaming through the rosette  and covering  the room with
a million facets of gold, all shades of saffron in the spectrum across.
It splashed upon  his face, his hair, and all along the walls. He stood
facing it, looking outlined in brilliant light and totally captivated.
She came up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder lightly.

" Mulder...." he turned and simultaneously grasped her wrist.

" God, Scully, Sorry. Scully..." A million expressions swept across his
face, dispair, amazement, relief, and something else...

" Mulder" she said his name again, and smiled. " I'm so happy that you
are here."

He was watching her with a wide eyed wonder, as though she had done
something incredible and he was still reeling from it.

" What? " she asked, and he shook his head, mute.

He was glowing from the window, and she  moved from him to step closer
to it. The glass was cool to her touch and suprisingly thin. She could
feel Mulders eyes were on her and she ignored them, instead, she ran
her fingers along the outline of steel that held each plate in place.
It was a huge window, nearly cathedral sized, and nearly filled the
wall. It was also old, and frail, and had a few hairline cracks from
the rosette of yellow in the middle.

" Beautiful" she heard Mulder say, now suddenly near her, and she felt
suddenly very weak. She turned into him and grasped along his shoulders.

" I missed you." she whispered, and was amazed at how young she
sounded, so full of wonder and scared at the same time.

" I missed you, too" he murmured and stuck his face in her hair, and
she felt his breath against her, and she soft skimming of a kiss along
her hairline, and she was suddenly filled with fire, her entire body
fragile and nearly breaking, like the window above and around her.

She realized that  her eyes were closed, and opened them to see him
watching her, too close for comfort and safety a year ago, but suddenly
not close enough. She leaned forward, feeling dizzy, nearly drunk,
until she shared his breath, they were milliseconds apart, merely
breathing. She inhaled the sunshine and the smell of him so close. And
it was nearly unbearable, the heat that breathing together brought her
face and body excellerated with each inhalation, and when they began to
breath synchronously, in and out with little shallow breaths, the
silence between them static and impossible to end crackling and
propelling them ever forward, she leaned closer.

His mouth was barely there, and for an instant it was a hallway, years
and years ago, and the near moment, she could feel his hands at her
neck and then...

Conncection. Her lips touched his for a fraction and nothing was there
to stop her, no pinprick of pain from a bee sting, nothing.

In ten seconds it was real, the clinging of lips halted by the fan of
breath against her face from Mulders mouth, and the salty warmness of
his tongue darting against her lips, which opened of their own accord,
letting him in, drinking him in, the taste of perfection and warmth and
trust, and something deeper. Something that made her feel faint and
fuzzy and completely incoherent. Something mysterious. It pushed at her
psyche until she realized that she  was hyperventilating, pushing
Mulder away and leaning against the desk previously unnoticed behind
her. The room hadn't changed, it was still charged and intoxicatingly
still, and she couldn't breathe.

" Scully? Scully, are you okay?" She couldn't nearly stand. It felt
perfect but also so painful that she couldn't cognate the source of her
anxiety. His voice was from a tunnel, miles away, and she couldn't
imagine that this had just occurred from one kiss. Her whole world was
crashing down around her from one kiss.

" I'm fine" Her voice sounded funny to her own ears. Unintentionally
but satisfyingly harsh, it made her nearly smile to see the pained look
across Mulders face.

" I can't do this, Mulder". she said, matter of factly. He watched her,
a look of pained curiosity across his face, his shoulders stooping
sadly.

" Do what, Scully"? He asked, his tone infinitely placating. Scully
felt angry at him for being so patronizing.

" We're too close for this, Mulder," she said, her tone sounding
anxious. Too anxious.

A pained sigh escaped his lips " Don't do this, Scully..."

" I didn't know it could be like that, Mulder."

" Like what...?" his tone was tinged in bitterness. She looked away and
wiped her lips, and sunk to the floor, feeling melodramatic and
suddenly exhausted. Her voice threatened tears as she whispered " It's
too intense like that.." she said, and didn't look at him.

***

The moment he'd been waiting for, it seemed, for so much time had come
and gone and left Scully undeniably shaken: but not in a good way.

He watched her lean against the desk in front of him, avoiding eye
contact and acting evasive. He wanted to know why she was so upset, but
he thought he did.

It wasn't easy enough for her. The kiss between them had been
electrifyingly profound, more than the kiss they shared on New years, a
kiss that was filled with expectation and promise and something deep
within. Something undeniably potent and irrevocably discerning.

" The way it was, Mulder...the kiss on New Years...that was nice..."
She read his thoughts, he was convinced. She still wouldnt look at
him, and it made his anger worse.

" The kiss on New Years was easy, Scully. Not nice."

" I liked 'easy' Mulder."

" I knew you would. It could have been whatever you wanted, however you
wanted to take it. And I knew you were disappointed afterwards...but
what doesn't make sense to me is why you were so disappointed this
time. What did I do wrong? Are you going to tell me that this was.."

" Just stop Mulder....it's impossible. This won't work with us, I don't
need it to be this way. And neither do you."

" I'm glad you feel authoritative on what I need now. Run away, Scully.
I won't hold you here. Just fucking run." He threw his hands in the air
and looked away. The kiss that just moments before had sent him reeling
was now fueling an arcane anger, directed solely at her. He didn't know
her, and maybe he didnt really even want to anymore. She was cold. Why
hadn't he seen that before? He turned and faced the window, pale gold
still assaulted the room as the sun made it's gentle rise ever upward.

He felt her fingers on his shoulder and didn't turn, but spoke in a
voice devoid of any inflection.

" It meant something to me, Scully. It was incredible for me...and it
felt right. I can't convince you that I'm what you need or even what
you want. But please don't lie to me and say that the kiss we just
shared was insubstantial. It was more than you expected. I could tell
that  you felt that way, I could *feel* that  it in you. Beneath the
surface. I could feel you....and I haven't felt you in so long. Not the
Scully I knew before this. I thought I was finally *finding* you again."

She sighed behind him, and it sounded shaky and tremulous. She forced
his shoulders to turn and look at her tear streaked face.

" I'm no good at this." she admitted, " and this is hard. Hard to
admit, hard to...give in... I never thought this would happen, not
really." She looked into his face and held his gaze a long moment
before speaking, and he felt the intensity of the air between them
thicken, and she breathed.

" Do you feel this?" he asked her, directly, his voice hinging on
anguish.

" What?" she managed, her voice tiny again. He hadn't felt this way
since he was seventeen, he felt drunk off of champagne and was about to
kiss the girl of his dreams from high school, though for the life of
him he couldn't recall her name. All that mattered was the woman before
him.

" Don't be coy, Scully" he smiled bitterly, and traced a finger along
her cheek, which caused her to move ever closer. " That." he said, as
her eyelids flickered and she swayed.

"Yes, Mulder." she said, and then looked into his face for answers. He
saw the confusion in her eyes, and yet something more, something
deeper, layered within.

" Show me you feel it Scully" he spoke without thinking, the air around
them charged again and irresistibly provoking.

" No Mulder" she whispered, running her hands to his shoulders, pushing
but pulling simultaneously. The sun had finally risen directly before
them, filling the room with bright light and she shook her head
slightly with a smile. " Show me."

***

The pure moment that was between them was shattered nearly as quickly
as it had begun, by the sound of crashing glass and four men in black
ski suits, all armed with guns and leering grins.

The last thing Mulder remembered was being hit, quite squarely, at the
base of his head. Before he had a chance to react, move, or stop them,
he witnessed the same procedure of head bashing happen to Scully,
before falling unconsciously to the floor.

He awoke some time later, still in a laying position and with an aching
headache. It was dark, more than he remembered the cabin being at
night, and then he realised that he was no longer in the cabin at all,
he'd been moved. To a dark damp cell like area, with four walls and a
door. He could barely see anything to the front or side if him, and so
whispered into the darkness.

" Hello..."

There was no answer.

The pounding in his head didn't seem to be ending, in fact, it seemed
worse. He tried to stand and wavered, the throbbing in his head almost
unbearable.

" Scully ! " He called into the darkness, wincing as the sound brought
another rush of blood through his head, causing a sharp throbbing at
the base of his neck  he gingerly touched it and looked at his hand in
the dark room, it was slightly damp with blood.

" Bastards" he mumbled...what had they hit him with? A sharp rock?

He sunk back to the floor, weak, calling intermittently Scully's name,
which echoed and then faded into silence. Where was she? What were they
doing to her? He clutched his hands into fists and the door suddenly
opened, spreading a yellow light across the floor and the shadow of a
figure.

" Cigarette, Fox ?" he asked as he entered.

***



 Title: Darkness Ascending: 12/12 < divided into two sections : 12a and
12b, due to size.

Author: Hillary < phriendly11@yahoo.com>



Joan watched as Mulder sat, rocking, back and forth, back and forth.

Occasionally he would speak. His mouth would make a moaning sound that
made little sense. But then again, nothing much made sense and the
buzzing in her head was getting worse. That was enough to worry about.

The men dressed in black had let them  walk out the doors, let them  go
to the  car, the little silver one. And they told them  to drive away
and never, ever come back. And Mulder had stood and looked at them,
menace in his gaze and in his stance, and they smirked at him.

And then he got in the car and drove for awhile. He told her, at some
point, they were going to Maryland.

Her mothers mother used to live in Maryland;  and he told her  that.
But that was before they  stopped, where they  waited, for what Joan
wasn't  sure. They  sat in the green grass and  waited, apparently  for
Mulder to stop rocking back and forth.

And the buzzing only got louder. She thought of telling him, but he was
sad. Sad because Dana, her  mother, was still locked in the dark room.
And he was also angry, it radiated from him in waves, frustration
without definition.

She  watched him and felt like crying.

***

Mulder rose from the grass as twilight fell.

" Let's go Joan" He said to the girl resting in the grass.

She stood, and looked at him, perplexed. " Where are we going?"

" To Maryland. I'm going to talk you to Scully's moms. You can stay
there while I come back here to rescue Scully."

" Okay" She said, without much conviction.

They  drove for miles, and night fell. And it was then, around ten or
so at night, that Joan turned on the radio.

And it worked.

" WRVZ in Baltimore! Happy May Day, guys! Let's see...tonight there is
a projected low of about 30, but watch out, tomorrow is expected to
reach the upper sixties. And now, some good time great oldies..."

Joan looked at him and he pulled the car over, and sat in the shoulder,
spinning the dial.

Rock, Jazz, William and Mary's station. NPR, Pop. Country. All blared
back at him.

And thats when all the pieces suddenly fit.

There was no apocalypse.

If he deduced correctly, then D.C was a test. Maybe some other cities,
maybe the whole state of Virginia. A test more elaborate in scope than
the American people could imagine.

The rest of the world was alive?

He couldn't think that, not without proof. Maryland might be one of the
few surviving cities.

If so, he knew how to find out.

***
" Mrs. Scully!! Mrs. Scully" Each exclamation was peppered with loud
booming knocks until Margaret Scully, clad only in nightdress, appeared
at the door.

" Oh....my....goodness....Fox? Fox Mulder"? She raised he voice in
pitch as she flung her arms about him.

" Mrs. Scully, " He replied, returning the embrace earnestly.

She looked at him, not trusting her eyes. He grinned at her, and she
turned to Joan.

" Mrs. Scully, this is a long story-  but this girl is your
granddaughter. She's Dana's daughter."

Margaret Scully did well  not to  faint

***

Scully sat in the darkness and counted.

Numbers had a rhythm, an inherent power to soothe, and she needed
soothing. Some sort of comfort in this lonely blackness. Something to
speak to her instead of her guilt; anything aside from Mulders pained
yell.

" Please don't do this to me, Scully."

She leaned back into the wall, wanting it to hold her, to somehow offer
consolation to the decision she knew that she would eventually have had
to make. Her relationships always had their  inevitable end; nothing,
no matter how much she  wanted it to; lasted forever.

So this was it. All her work had led her here, the unwilling and docile
employee of her greatest enemy and her partners father . A man who
played a role in the destruction of the world above.

She closed her eyes tightly and envisioned a place of rocks, red from
the sun. And it was hot, a sweltering type of heat that she thought she
could feel burning her forehead.

Nothing filled her vision but bright light until she fell over.

***

Joan.

Joan!

From a distance, she heard them. A loud chorus of her name, getting
closer, and closer, until nearly exploding in her ear in a frenzy.

And yet she could still hear the conversation in the background, Mrs.
Scully, Dana's mother, her *grandmother*, and Mulder, her brother, her
friend, discussing the alternatives.

" So, I'll need to leave Joan here, and go find Scully. And then we'll
come back here and get Joan..."

Joan! Joan! Joan!

" Something very dangerous" Mrs. Scully was saying.

" I'm willing to take the risk." Mulder leaned close.

The voices escalated till she heard nothing but her name.

Then, a brilliance filled her eyes. A bright light that made the world
infinitely warm. A warm, bright place.

Her mother stood, at a distance, her shape coming into view slowly, and
there were rocks, large red rocks that were everywhere. And the ground
was yellow. The sky was blue, with some clouds, but not many.

" Joan" Her mother said, " Joan."

And the darkness, all the darkness in the world lifted up and floated
away. She had to be there, she had to go. With her mother.

" Joan?"

She blinked and saw Mulder, standing over her, and a concerned Mrs.
Scully.

" Are you okay?"

She blinked again, small dots flew in the scope of her vision.

" I have to go!" She whispered. " I have to go to the place..."

" Where Joan?" Mulder asked, his voice filled with worry.

" To the place where darkness....darkness is...it's ascending." Her
voice was filled with wonder, and then the humming, the loud buzz that
followed her around no matter where she went, started again.

She fell to the ground and started to moan.

***

" Fox?" Margaret Scully said, as she looked at Joan on the floor.

" She has visions. Uh....this is going to sound unbelievable, maybe.
She's Dana's, generated from her ova. It was fertilized by my father - "

Margaret looked aghast, her face suddenly blanched. " Your father?
But..."

" Not the father I thought was my father, my *biological* father."

" Oh, dear." She said, and crouched at Joans side to absentmindedly
stroke her hair.

" Her DNA, though, was spliced with an Alien DNA that came from me,
from my brain - "

" From you?" She asked, incredulous.

" Yes. I know it sounds like science fiction but if it helps you to
believe, Scully knows this is true - she'll admit it to you when you
see her again....and that will be soon."

" So, Joan is part....alien? Is that what I am to believe."

" Essentially, yes. And it gives her certain...skills. She has visions,
like the one she just apparently had, and she can read minds, and
dreams. And just recently this buzzing sound started. It concerns me
because - "

Joan moaned beneath them and reached for Mulders hand.

" You need to find her. That....place, that place I saw, she sent it to
me. It was from her."

" Who?" Mulder asked,

" Dana." She said, " Dana...please, go get her and bring her here."

Mulder sat back on his heels and regarded Joan. Her eyes had closed
again and she looked as though she may speak.

Something in the back of his mind propelled him to reach for Joans
neck. She breathed softly as he felt the tender spot in the back of her
neck.

A chip.

Why hadn't he thought of it before? It seemed logical, now, they knew
exactly where she was, what she was thinking, possibly.

A tracking device.

" Fox? Are you okay?" Margaret  asked.

" Joan, she has a chip. In the back of her neck. They know where we
are...they know that we know there was no apocalypse. He let us go..."

He stood, resolved. " Call Bill. Get him to come here and look after
you. All right, Mrs. Scully? I'm going back for Dana."

" Now? But I thought you were going to wait until the morning - "

" It can't wait."

" Take my car. It's got a full tank and they might not look for you in
it - "

" Thank you" he said, and impulsively hugged her.

" Please, please bring her back to me. I trust you Fox, I trust you
completely."

He looked at her without words, and nodded.

As he got into the car, he swore to himself, that after this night,
they were done, done with searching for the truth, done with risking
their lives.
After he found her, he resolved that he would not let her go.

***

" This is ridiculous, and surely you must know that. Surely! She's
useless to the project."

" I don't think that you understand the true nature of the project,
Marguerite." He said, and reached for a cigarette.

" My project was Joan." She said, and reached for his pack, extracting
a cigarette and lighting it from the light he extended.

" My Project was Virginia" He said, his tone measured, reserved.

" She won't be suitable for the work you want her to accomplish."
Marguerite said, " Dana Scully isn't strong enough."

" I disagree. It is you that doesn't have the strength."

He pulled his gun from inside the jacket pocket and held it out, an
effortless motion. His face was passive as he pulled the trigger and
watched her fall to the floor in a small "thump".

He stepped over her limp hand and extinguished the still smoking
cigarette with his well polished black shoes.

***
Mulder drove with his eyes fixed ahead. The radio waned in it's
connection, returning to a dull fuzz once he crossed the county line
into Richmond.

He could only imagine what Scully was going through.

Why had he left? He asked himself a million times, each mile adding
another exclamation to his query. Why had he left! Just left? Just like
that...no fight, no flailing.

Maybe he had been getting used to disaster.

Would she still be there? It had been under thirty six hours since he
left her there, in that darkened room. He could feel the press of
gentle heat against her lips as she had kissed him. Kissed him like she
never would have before this, before she thought the world had ended
and she had no choice.

Knowing all that she did now, would she come away with him and dare to
try this, dare he think it, *relationship*? A relationship. With
Scully. Something a year ago he would have laughed at.

He approached the small building with apprehension. It was late, nearly
a quarter past midnight and the building itself looked unchanged.

He hoped she was still there.

A gunshot sounded through the still night air and propelled him out of
his seat, closing the door softly behind him. He crept into the half
open door with apprehension, his body tensing in automatic fear that
she had been shot, that he had not made it in time.

The hallway inside was silent and dark. No guards patrolled the shadowy
corridor. He moved towards the door that she had been behind and turned
the knob slowly.

It wasn't locked.

Heart pounding, he blinked and opened the door.

***

The sound of a  shot awoke Scully.

She sat upright, suddenly rigid, performing a series of checks to
ensure that the bullet hadn't hit anything on her.

Where had it come from?

Suddenly a light flickered on, overhead. Her head  unconsciously shot
up and looked at the ceiling.

" Scully?" A voice.

Her name said in Mulders voice.

She stood, weary, her head light and still vaguely painful. She
clutched the wall for support and spoke. " Mulder?"

The door to her room opened and he stood there, a gun clutched in his
hands and relief evident on his face. He moved across the room to her
and enfolded her in his arms briefly, before giving her a long look and
saying " We have to get the hell out of here."

" Not so fast, Fox."

The smoking man stood in the doorway, looking at the both of them with
an expression of contempt. His lined face pursed as he took a long drag
from his cigarette.

" Let us go!" Mulder said, raising his gun menacingly, and the smoking
man did not flinch.

" Reminiscent of days past, don't you think?" He asked, and watched
Mulder cock the gun and raise it higher, in direct proportion to his
heart.

 "I know the truth now!" Mulder spat, his voice angry and harsh,
completely unforgiving. " That there was no apocalypse, that it was
only a test."

The smoking man raised his eyebrows appreciatively and his lips curved
into a satisfied smile.

" Good work" He said succinctly and then tossed his cigarette casually
aside, letting it fall to the floor and burn.

" How could you do that? All those innocent people?"

" It was easy." He answered.

Scully looked at the two men, aghast, trying to follow the direction of
the conversation. There had been no end to the world by the virus?

" You bastard!" Mulder hissed.

" I'm prepared to let you go. I can admit failure when I'm party to
it." He reached for a cigarette as he spoke.

" Oh, are you ` prepared `" Mulder taunted, his voice dangerous, a
tightwire of emotion.

" Mulder-" Scully warned, and was suprised to hear her voice so
suddenly weary. She reached for his arm but he didn't look at her.

" Go." The smoking man said as he lit the end of the white cylinder and
greedily inhaled.

" Not until you tell me *why*" Mulder demanded.

The smoking man paused and regarded Mulder coolly, " Why?" He asked, "
Must you really ask such a nonsensical question?" He laughed, a little
bitter sound made raspy from years of smoking.

" All of Virginia? For what?"

" It was necessary. Now, take my offer and leave here. Take your
precious Scully along with you." He turned his eyes to her and looked a
long moment, " though I will certainly miss her company."

Mulder lunged.

The smoking cigarette was knocked to the floor as Mulders hands
enclosed around his fathers neck. Scully scrambled for the gun and held
it over the two men. The smoking man didn't struggle, dull awareness
flickered in his eyes as he watched the man above him, his son,  choke
the life out of him...

" Mulder-" Scully said, and touched his shoulders.

He jerked as though suprised and looked up at her.

" This won't make it right, Mulder." She said, in a consoling way, and
their eyes met and held.

Mulder let go of his father and tossed him to the ground.

"Stay the fuck  away  from us !"   He spat down to the still startled
man that fingered his lapel self consciously.

He smiled at Scully and Mulder as they rushed from the building, hand
in hand.

***
They ran, Mulders hand burning against her back, propelling her
forward , to what looked like her mothers car.

" Mulder?" She asked, her breath in little pants.

" No time , Scully. Get in!"

She nodded and flung the door open, and Mulder turned the keys in the
ignition. The tires squealed as he pulled from the dirt drive.

She looked over at him, not sure if she was dreaming or hallucinating,
but it felt real. And it caused her to cry, great gushing tears of
relief and confusion. Mulder looked at her as though afraid to speak.

" Are you okay?" He asked, looking at her with a tender concern that
made her cry harder.

" Sorry...shock, I think" She said to him, her voice wobbly from tears.

They sat in silence; her tears subsided. She looked over at him and
wiped the last clinging tears to her face with disdain.

" I can't believe he just let us...walk away.."

" He didn't" Mulder said, his eyes trained on the road.

She jerked her head around " Are they following us?" She asked, her
voice slightly frantic.

" In a way. Joan has a chip in the back of her neck. She's sending a
signal."

" Oh God, no" Scully said, her voice pained.

" And as you might have somewhat gathered there was no "virus to end
all viruses."

" I heard but I didn't follow." She said , her voice normal, measured,
smooth. " What's  going on Mulder."

" Your family - your mom, Bill, Charlie, all of them - they didn't die.
Virginia was a testing grounds for the virus and the vaccine. They told
the public that it was a terrorist attack from unknown origin. A virus
so advanced that all infected were immediately sentenced to death. No
survivors...at least that's what your mom heard, and I imagine that
same report was recycled throughout the world."

She sat into her seat and sighed " All those innocent people, Mulder."
She said. " What about Congress? The President?"

" Miraculously saved, Scully."

" Do you think they know?"

" What do you think?" He asked, skeptically.

" I need to ask you about something- " He said, and met her eyes
momentarily before returning them ahead. " Joan said she received some
sort of vision from you - of red rocks and blinding sun."

Scully tensed and remembered the rocks, the sweltering heat.

" I saw a place....filled with red rocks. I think it was Arizona. It
was probably nothing."

" I don't think that it's nothing. I think we need to go there, to look
for an answer."

" An answer to what, Mulder?"

" What's causing Joan to lose control. She's hearing the buzzing...I
don't know if you know that. The same buzzing that I felt when I
was...sick."

" Are you sure?" She asked, dreading his answer.

" Yes." He looked at her a long moment . " I'm sorry."

***

Please continue to part 12b for the final ending


 Darkness Ascending : 12b of 12 : this is the last section!


Joan went to the silver car and sat.

Her mother, she knew was getting close. She could feel her coming, feel
her with Mulder, and Joan wanted them to *be* here. To be here now.

Mrs. Scully, who Joan insisted on calling ' Mrs. Scully' than the
offered ' grandmother', was inside the house with Bill. Uncle Bill, as
Mrs. Scully said to call him.

He looked at her funny and said " Uncle?"

He started to yell then, confused noise that Mrs.
Scully "shhhhssshhhedd!" with conviction. Joan left the room, tired of
hearing her own tale.

The silver car had been the one her mother had driven. Inside was clean
and still kind of smelled like her.

In the back were large journals, leather-bound books that lay
haphazardly across the seats. Two. And a wirebound notebook.

She opened the little box in the front of the car. Mulder had said
something about gloves but she didn't remember what. She unlocked the
box and opened it.

Vials. Three. Filled with orange yellow liquid.

She held them into the sunlight until interrupted by the sound of car
on gravel. Mulder and her mother had finally come back, and she needed
to tell them that they needed to leave.

***

" Dana!" Her mothers arms closed around her, and Scully felt as though
she could finally breathe.

" Mom" she answered.

Joan had rushed to them, arms outstretched and smiling when they had
arrived, and her mother and Bill soon followed. Bill regarded Mulder
with a mixture of disdain and ill concealed appreciation.

" My goodness, you look awful!" Her  mother said, appalled. Scully knew
she was right. Ten months of living underground had made her skin
pasty, her body was thin, and she hadn't showered in nearly a week.

" Dana, " Bill said, when he covered her in his big arms. She squeezed
him back. Everyone had started crying, Joan and Mulder hugged and
Scully's mom drew near them. She smiled at her mother and then pulled
from Bill. She looked up at him and smiled.

" It's great to see you again." She said to him, her voice nearly a
whisper.

" Well, then..." Her mother was saying behind her " lets go in and get
some food and talk."

" Would you mind if I showered first, Mom?" She asked.

" Not at all Dana. Joan, why don't you come into the kitchen with me.
Fox, you and Bill can go into the den, if you want." She turned towards
the door and Mulder met her eyes, his gaze petrified over the prospect
of conversation with Bill in close proximity.

" I actually need to talk to Mulder beforehand...him and Joan. If you
don't mind....?" Her mother and Brother shook  their heads and re-
entered the house. Joan and Mulder came towards her.

" Joan- " Scully said, softly, and looked into her face, so innocent. "
Mulder tells me that you have been hearing a buzzing sound. Is that
true?"

" Yes. " Joan answered, " and it's getting worse. Much worse. I'm
afraid of it. And I keep seeing this place. With red rocks and yellow
ground."

" Mulder told me that you saw it once. Did you see it again?"

" Yes. I saw it last night...I didn't tell anyone because you and
Mulder weren't here. Mrs. Scully....I don't think she wants to
completely understand. It was brighter this time, as though it were
somehow closer. And I got the feeling that we need to go there, soon. "

Scully looked away and in her minds eye she envisioned that place again
and she knew where it was.

" Sedona." She said, and Mulder looked at her. " We went to Arizona
once, remember? I saw a brochure for Sedona. It has to be there."

Joan looked at her with interest, and then squeezed her eyes shut and
covered her ears.

" Noooo" She said, her voice a strange whine. Then her body stiffened.

" Dana." The voice, Cassandra's. An automatic change. " You are right.
You need to leave. Leave there tonight...with Joan. The answer to her
problem can only be solved if you leave tonight. Do you understand?"

Scully looked aghast " Tonight?" She said.

" He's.....
coming.......he.......needs.....her.........eventually....." Her voice
was choked suddenly, her hands around her neck " can't..."

She fell over, her body stiff and then limp. Mulder looked down at her
as she crouched to check Joans pulse, almost too tired to concentrate
on what was actually happening anymore.

Arizona? Heartbeat against her fingers strong and fast yet Joan looked
nearly peaceful. She hadn't knocked her head on the ground but had
scraped a knee and elbow in the gravel.

" I need some Band-Aids, hydrogen peroxide, cotton swaps, neosporin..."
She intoned to Mulder, who she heard move away by a fast paced
crunching in the gravel.

She looked at Joan but didn't see her, her mind not wanting to focus on
anything but Sedona Arizona. Weighing her options as though they
mattered again, after not mattering for so long. It could be a trap,
she reasoned, stretching Joan out and pushing the hair from her face.
Such a beautiful girl. The color was returning to her cheeks, her hair
was still long and golden, it fell around her face and she looked so
innocent. Scully nodded to herself, knowing she had to leave here, with
Joan and Mulder, tonight.

Mulder and her mother returned, their faces worried. " I need a shower.
And then, " she called over her shoulder as her mother sat to dress her
mothers wounds " we're leaving after that."

" Leaving?" Bill said from the doorframe, " You can't be leaving, Dana.
You just got here..."

" Bill...I have work to do." She said, her voice impassioned.

" Dana, there is no more work. You've been through a very traumatic
experience, months underground, thinking your family was dead. And,
that's your daughter, too, out there in the gravel and you are walking
around like a zombie."

" Bill, I really need a shower. Ask Mulder to tell you why we are
leaving."

" He's going too? "

" Yes. Now, let me - " She tried to push past him. " take a shower."

He looked down at her and she frowned up at him, wiggling past his arms
and leaving him standing there.

***


Hours of driving passed in a colored blur outside of her window as
Mulder slept. She needed sleep, her eyes were tight and hot as she
strove to keep them open and seeing. The sun was setting as they
crossed the border into Arizona. Joan lay in the backseat, her mouth
open and breathing puffs of air every few moments.

She eyed a sign on the side of the road flashing vacancy and opted to
stop. There was no way in hell she was driving the remaining three
hours to Sedona without some sleep. And a shower. And a hot meal.

"Mulder?" She murmured, and he stirred, groaning softly as he opened
each eye as though it were sticky from sleep.

" Scully?" He said, his mouth raspy from dreaming." Are we there yet.?"

" We're stopping for the night Mulder, I need a shower and a bed, and
in that order."

They pulled over to the front of the hotel, a low lying, squattish
establishment with turquoise paint on the walls. An  old man at the
counter eyed them wearily and stood.

" How can I help you two?" He asked, and Mulder crossed over to request
their rooms.  Scully looked out the window at her sleeping daughter who
had not even been jostled by the movement of their arrival.
Distractedly she watched as Mulder snagged the keys from the elderly
mans hand and  tossed down crumpled bills that her mother had given them

" Ya'll have a nice night." The old man said, and returned to his seat.

Mulder walked a short sidewalk down to two rooms with an adjoining
door. Scullly shook Joans shoulders softly and she slowly looked up at
her.

" Mmmmm.." She said, her voice sleepy.

" Come on, Joan. A nice warm bed is waiting for you."

The sun had completely set and stars began to  dot the dark sky as
though they were closer than light years away. Behind the hotel lie
boulders, red and craggy, their shape still visible in the hazy
evening breeze.

" Scully?" Mulder said from behind her, and she turned to him and
smiled.

" It's really nice here." She said softly, and reached for a bag that
her mother had packed. She entered the doorway Joan had gone into, and
said over her shoulder her plans to take a shower.

Minutes  later, toweling off, she unzipped the black bag to reveal mens
shirts and pants donated by her brother to Mulder. She twisted the
towel around her body, her hair dripping as she tried to squeeze out
the excess by wringing it with a wash cloth.

She extracted a white button down shirt and covered herself in it,
flipping her head upside down after buttoning the row of clear buttons.
She twisted the towel around her wet head in a turban style, and
hoisted the bag onto her shoulder after re- zipping it up.

She knocked on the side door that joined the two rooms " Mulder?" She
called.

" Come in" he said, his voice muffled. She could hear the noise of the
television set amplify as she opened the door. A woman with dark hair,
eyes and skin sat behind a desk and gave the weather.

He looked at her a long moment as she stood there, his body cushioned
and clad in a white tee shirt and pants. She admired him a moment
before stepping forward.

" I got your bag, " She said, and stopped as she noticed herself in his
mirror. Her shirt was nearly transparent, giving view of her nipples
vaguely underneath.

" Scully" he said her name softly, and it caused her to turn slowly in
his direction.

" Come here." He said, and she felt her feet moving, as though bidden
by his eyes. She approached him cautiously, and he caught her wrists in
his hands and pulled her to him.

She tentatively sat at the base of the mattress, her eyes scanning the
room nervously. He was stroking her hand with his thumb, and she could
feel him watching her. He took a finger and traced the line of her
throat, which made her shiver unconsciously. His mouth trailed the line
his finger burned in hot, wet kisses.

He turned her face to his and looked into her eyes. She dared to blink,
and was suprised by the feel of his mouth, warm on hers, insistent. She
opened her mouth, drinking him in, kissing him with unabashed passion
and desire. She clutched at his hair, her mind suddenly not functioning
past this moment, propelling her onward, forward, without worry about
consequence or even twenty seconds from now.

She ran her hands along his chest, exploring the ripples underneath his
shirt as he resumed kissing along her neck. She tilted back as he
unhooked the buttons on her shirt slowly, following each undone button
with a fiery  kiss. She arched her back as he approached her breast,
sighing, close to his ear.

" Please, please, please..."

***

Mulder struggled with a clear plastic button above the line of her
breasts and he kissed her again, a kiss more explosive and insistent
than the last. And he managed to think how incredible this was, and how
much he really wanted it to not stop, not stop unless he was forced to.

He was thinking that as she shot up, stiffly.

He looked into her eyes and they stared ahead, unfocused.

" Scully?" He asked, his breath in pants, his voice concerned.

She pulled from him, swinging her legs over the mattress and landing
her feet on the floor. She looked ahead as she righted her stance, but
she didn't bother to re - button her shirt or sweep her hair, that had
fallen from the turban style towel, and now was disheveled. She walked
to the door and turned the handle, and he felt frozen by shock.

What the hell...

He got up, hopping on one foot as he swiped each shoe on and hurried
out the door, Scully was walking, her motions robotic, as though they
were forced, unnatural.

And then he saw Joan. She looked over at them with the same dewy
expression of incomprehension. Scully moved towards her and he reached
for Scully's arm. She began to flail, knocking the weight of her arm
against his chest with a dull thud.

White light, bright, intense, filled the sky above them. He shielded
his eyes and let her go momentarily, and Scully lunged towards Joan.

" Scully!" He called, and grabbed her again, forcing her into the dirt
as the light intensified. He tried to look into it and was blinded.

And as soon as it came it was gone, and with it, Joan.

***

She came back to herself after the light had gone.

But she knew what had happened. Joan had been taken. Taken. She looked
up at the stars and they shimmered back, unaware, unassuming. They gave
no  answer  and smirked at her from the heavens above.

She crawled to where Joan had been , ignoring the rock, ignoring the
sand. Her hands dug in the dirt that still held the image of her
footprint, ever so lightly pressed into the desert ground.

Tears, hot and fast, coursed down her cheeks, and she lay in the dirt,
kissing it, rubbing her face in it, letting it cover her, wash over
her, give her some sort of peace.

" I don't believe this" she said in a chant, over and over, a mantra.
She spoke the words without thinking, a low sound, more close to a
growl than a whisper.

She felt Mulders hands at her back, he was speaking to her, but his
words made no sense.

Joan was gone.

Another Daughter, taken, leaving her  with nothing.

Mulder tugged at her shoulders, offering her comfort. She thought she
felt rain on her back, but when she looked up she saw that it was
Mulder.

He was crying.

For his sister.

She sat, looking up at him, her eyes filled and flowing, unfocused on
anything but her grief. She cried, out there in the desert, until
Mulder wrapped his arms around her and sat beside her, and shared in
their grief.

They sat until the sun rose, long rosy fingers giving illumination to
the desert sky in stages, a slow ascent that made the world want to
glow new again. They weren't waiting for answers, or even the right
questions. They just waited, waited  until it was safe to stand without
falling over. And Scully rose with the sun, her face dirty and streaked
with tears, the white shirt she wore colored by the dusty ground of the
earth.

She extended her hand down to Mulder, and he took it.


***                Epilouge           ***

May 10, 2001

It is with a careful consideration that I sit to write this, to attempt
to outline the scope of my emotions following the loss of my daughter,
my darling Joan.

Mulder and I have decided that a search for her  would not only be
unproductive, but also futile. She is gone. Gone as his sister Samantha
was taken so long ago, and now another sister has disappeared. We think
it best to not sustain ourselves on hope; hope is fallible when it
comes to these things, to loss.

The morning after she disappeared we got up and walked away. I remember
the laden feel of my feet as we went inside and slept, offering each
other comfort in the darkened hotel room. And as I dreamed I saw my
daughter; as happy as the day that we first met. The day that Mulder
brought her to me and my life had forever changed. I saw her face and
she whispered something to me I couldn't decipher. Her voice, ever so
hoarse and shadowy offered no true consolation; and yet I awoke that
evening to find myself refreshed and sated.

I don't attempt to comprehend the divine meaning of this. We got into my
mothers car and returned to Maryland , an exhausting drive that was
mostly silent. We passed through the deadened streets of Virginia and
closed our eyes to the landscape, not wanting to see what we were a
victim of for over ten months, our lives manipulated and stolen.

Back at my mothers, Mulder pulled these journals from the silver gray
car that once belonged to somebody, a lifetime ago. He handed them to
me and I attempted to ignore them, dismiss them, possibly even destroy
them...but something prevented me. Something unbidden and dark wanted
to hold onto these memories with a steady hand. And so I grasped them,
and retreated inside my mothers house to drink tea and write my
thoughts, though they get me nowhere.

Tomorrow we are leaving. My family is in risk for me to stay with them;
and Mulder has gone to find us identification that will make us American
citizens again. It feels so void to no longer have any work, we are
forced to remove ourselves from the identities taken from us in
Virginia. We are now normal people, going out to live a normal,
ordinary life. We will put behind us the quest for answers, and emerge
with a new hope of finding nothing in the darkness.

Our quest has ended.

And as I think of pausing here to close this journal indefinitely, I
try to articulate what it is that  we have found. So many things that
no longer exist; proof tainted or stolen time and time again. Our
bounty from our search is non- material, it cannot be held in our hands
but it is mapped by our hearts. We have found each other.

And in that acquisition, in that powerful gift, I believe that we will
finally find our own peace.

D. K . S

                        THE    END

Authors notes:

First of all, the thank - you's:
Big thanks to Jessica. Jessica, who I might not have met if it weren't
for Darkness Ascending. She chose me, after all, and I am eternally
grateful for her doing so. If you don't have a beta, well, you should
get one, and hopefully have as good as a relationship with yours as I
do mine. Jessica deserves equal credit for all the work we have done on
Darkness together...she's been there to haggle tenses, grammar, and
word repetition, and she helped me come up with so much of it....gosh.
You are just amazing, and she bakes brownies! People, she's one in a
million.

Thanks to the BRC for hooking me up with Jessica, too, BTW.

Also, huge hugs to :
Nikki- who always managed to drop a line at the right time, and that
really kept me motivated.
Kaleigh - for being a fellow member of XFAA and for also being a great
friend, thank you for getting into Darkness and hanging on with me.
cecily sasserbaum - thanks for your sweet note and I hope you managed
to read the rest of the way.
X- File Lizard and Darkstar from the MXFFF for saying you liked it when
it was still in the infant stages.
Thanks to my boyfriend, who read without laughing at my first draft and
telling me I might have something worth finishing.
And lastly, but not any less importantly, thank you to everyone in the
fanfiction community. It is your creativity, Writers, that inspire us
to write our own work, and the people who support by reading, you guys
are wonderful. Thank you for reading, thank you for writing, and thank
you for pressing recommend. I have you to thank for the completion of
this story!

I hope you will be able to find some time to drop me a line :
phriendly11@yahoo.com
I'd like to know your thoughts on the ending.