From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: Fri, 19 Jan 2001 19:41:08 -0600
Subject: END OF THE ROAD by Ewa
Source: direct

Reply To: ewa@whatewa.com


END OF THE ROAD 
AUTHOR: Ewa
E-mail:    ewa@whatewa.com
RATING:  PG 16
CATEGORY:  S 
SPOILER:  Sein Und Zeit/Closure. Missing scenes 
and post ep.
KEYWORDS: S POV MS R A  Character death 
THANKS To Peggy for endless patience. 
SUMMARY: Scully has to watch her partner as he 
comes to terms with loss. 
DISCLAIMER: Any characters you recognize belong to 
Mr. Carter & Co. Description of autopsy is not 
strictly mine either, I'm no ME.

ARCHIVES: Let me know where it's gone please!
AUTHOR'S Notes Finally after a major hatchet job, 
it's done.
Feedback please!
ewa@whatewa.com

See my stories at www.whatewa.com
01.17.10


FRIDAY AM

It wasn't the end of the road for Mulder, he still 
had his Mom's committal service to get through. 
At  least Teena Mulder had the foresight to have 
pre planned her funeral arrangements, she'd had 
spared him that much.
 
It was my idea to add a memorial service for 
Samantha onto that of his Mom. It would be a 
celebration of Samantha's life, brief though it had 
been, and mother and daughter would be together in 
spirit if not physically.  Mulder liked the idea. 
We got Samantha's name and dates added to the 
headstone.

"There's been so much sadness, for so long. I 
think both of them would have liked that, for us to 
be happy for them now that they are at peace."

"In their own ways they both loved you too much to 
have you suffer any longer Mulder."

Mulder's fingers entwined with mine throughout the 
service and I was touched that he should publicly 
seek comfort from me like this.

Later at the graveside I placed two posies of 
yellow roses on the grave, one for his Mom and one 
for his sister. 

"Yellow roses for remembrance," I told Mulder.

He had brought a posy to lay on Emily's coffin. 
I needed to do the same for him. Mulder remembered 
too, he squeezed my hand gently in his own and I 
saw how moved he was.


When the service ended Mulder wanted to go and 
clear out his mom's house. I wouldn't let him. He 
was trying to do too much too soon. 

"Mulder, let it be for a while, give yourself a 
little time...please.When the time is right, when 
you're ready,  we'll do it together. Okay?"
Reluctantly he agreed.

"Let's go home Mulder. Please..."

He gave me a fierce hug. I took his hand and we 
walked away from what was left of his family, back 
to our car.

"Let me drive, Scully."

I didn't stop him, at least it would keep his mind 
from recent events.

The only snag was that I remembered instead.


SACRAMENTO
3 weeks earlier
10:12 PM


He'd ditched me yet again and Skinner chewed my
butt out because of it.

It had been a very long and tiring day for me. 
Skinner had told me about this case Mulder had 
almost begged to go on.

I really didn't know what shape he'd be in. Concern 
for Mulder and physical exhaustion made me more 
than a little tetchy by the time I drew up outside 
Mulder's motel. 

I knocked on the door, to hear Mulder call out it 
was open. It was uncanny how he expected me there. 

The only illumination in the room came from the 
muted TV showing Mr. LaPierre being hounded by a TV 
reporter. Mulder lay fully dressed on the bed, 
staring up at the ceiling. He didn't move, didn't 
even look at me. From the condition of him, I'd 
been right to worry, but that concern was tinged 
with exasperation. Not a "What you doing here 
Scully?" "Sorry, Scully." Nothing. It was almost as 
if I wasn't there.

"Mulder? What are you doing?"

"Thinking."

"About?"

"Amber Lynn LaPierre."

"Mind if I turn on the light?" 

I knew thing were bad when he wouldn't let me turn 
the light on. I needed to see his face properly but 
his only movement was to turn away.

Mulder has this habit of personalizing cases like 
these, somehow he always links them in his mind to 
Samantha's abduction.

"Skinner's royally pissed. He expected a report at 
noon; he waited and now he's sent me to find you."

"I don't have it." Mulder replied softly 

From the report to TV, Skinner hadn't been able to 
hold off any longer and the local PD had moved on 
the case. 

The location of the note found at the scene 
troubled my partner, something just didn't sit 
right. 

He might said more, but the sound of his cell phone 
made us jump.

"Mulder"

"Fox, I'm watching the news." 

I don't know why I felt a if I were eavesdropping 
on this conversation with his mom, but I did.

"Oh." Mulder wasn't very comfortable with the call.

"That little girl in California. You're out there, 
aren't you?"

"Yes."

"When are you coming back here?"

"I don't know."

"Call when you get back. Fox"

"Sure," he answered and pressed the end button.

Mulder was in no mood for conversation. 
We had a lot to explain and discuss between us, but 
it was something that needed to be done when we 
were both thinking clearly and rationally. 

Our relationship was strained, especially because 
of the kiss we'd shared on New Year's Eve, it 
looked like we weren't going to acknowledge it had 
ever happened. Deny everything, that was our motto. 
What was new?
Would we have been better to have left well alone? 

I didn't know about Mulder, but I was almost asleep 
on my feet. 

"Goodnight Mulder. We'll talk in the morning." 

Mulder, lost in thought didn't answer.



SKINNER'S OFFICE

I paced nervously outside Skinner's office, waiting 
for Mulder to emerge. He was treading a very narrow 
line, he wouldn't admit it but I saw how the case 
was effecting him. The side trip to see Kathy Lee 
Tencate, a woman convicted of killing her son in 
similar circumstances hadn't helped

Mulder had been with Skinner for an age and things 
didn't looking good, at least from where I stood. 
Half the building could probably hear as well. I 
should be in there, supporting Mulder.

"Intensify our search where? The Twilight Zone?" 

I heard the sarcasm. Skinner's raised voice was 
audible even through the closed door. He didn't 
much care for Mulder's theory, that was obvious.

That's when the call came through to Skinner's PA. 
I was close enough to hear the gist of it, I heard 
her sharp intake of breath and her pale face 
confirmed my fears.

"I will tell him." I told her. "I think he will take 
it better from me." The relived look on her face 
said it all.

Skinner was still fuming in there, "I deal in the 
real world, Agent Mulder. You begged onto this case 
as part of the solution. All you've done is hand 
our only suspects the Twinkie Defense." 

My stomach cramped and the air emptied our of my 
lungs in a long, aching sigh. Protocol be damned, I 
took a few calming breaths and softly entered the 
office. I would have given anything not to have to 
do this.

"Sir?"

"What? What is it, Agent Scully?" he almost shouted 
at me, still focused on Mulder.

I only had eyes for Mulder. "I need to have a word 
with Agent Mulder." It came out more quietly than 
I'd intended, my voice seemed to be playing up.

Skinner's agitation at this interruption was 
obvious. "It can wait!"

If anything my voice got softer, but something must 
have alerted Skinner to the seriousness of the 
situation.

"No, it can't, Sir." He looked at me and fell 
silent. 

Mulder looked surprised at this. 

"What is it Scully?"  

I couldn't see very well through the stinging in my 
eyes. There was only one way to do this. I tried to 
keep my voice steady as I told him, but it came out 
in a whisper. Framing the words was difficult, my 
lips and tongue felt thick and awkward... near numb 
with the fearful anxiety. 

"Mulder, your Mom's dead."

Even as I said it, the phrase slammed around my 
head, displacing rational thought with it's 
implications.

The air sucked out of him; Mulder's face whitened, 
I could feel his disbelief and tension radiating 
from his skin. He and stared at me as if I'd just 
shot him. A tear slip from it's mooring and trail 
down my cheek. I felt the instinctive urge to take 
him in my arms, but it fled when I saw his face.

He turned to leave the room, but I moved more 
quickly, reaching his side and grasping his arm. 
Mulder shrugged me off, his face was a blank, he 
was shutting me out.

I moved numbly past Skinner and out of his office, 
after Mulder wondering if my partner would ever 
forgive me.


It was amazing how fast Skinner could put things 
into operation when there was a need. Within twenty 
five minutes Skinner was driving us to the airport 
to catch the next available flight to Greenwich 
Connecticut.

He tried to brief me as he drove, but I wasn't 
paying much attention. I kept glancing at Mulder in 
the rearview mirror. He sat in the back, pale, not 
moving nor speaking, a vacant look in his eyes. He 
looked almost catatonic. God, I ached for him-for 
the pain and loss he was feeling.

We had to wait for a little at the airport. Mulder 
looked awful. He hadn't said a word since I broke 
the news to him. I didn't know what to do for the 
best. His hand was clenched tightly on the arm rest 
between us, I laid my hand over his, gently 
stroking it with my thumb, hoping he'd understand. 

When it was time, I led him onto the plane and sat 
him in the window seat, away from prying eyes. 
Mulder slumped in the seat, grief etched into his 
tried face, looking as though he had the weight of 
the world on his shoulders. I could feel his pain. 
I did the only thing I could think of, I needed to 
get him to rest. I pulled one of the cushions out 
and laid it across my lap.

"C'mere, Mulder, you need to rest, come on, lay 
down. I'll wake you when we get there."

I pulled his head into my lap and he didn't argue, 
but the look he gave was all the thanks I needed, 
the anger in his eyes wasn't directed at me.  

He nestled in and closed his eyes. I covered him 
over with my coat and he allowed my arm around his 
shoulder. As the plane took off, I couldn't help 
myself, my hand strayed to his head and absently 
brushed the hair out of his eyes. Stoking his hair 
was very therapeutic for me, I just hoped it would 
help my partner too. 

I wanted to hold him, to promise to make everything 
better for him, like you would a lost and bereaved 
little boy, the little boy he resembled. 

MRS. MULDER'S RESIDENCE

The scene at his mom's house was harrowing. The 
police, FBI agents and the Coroners were still 
reviewing the scene. 
In the kitchen the oven was open and the doors 
sealed with tape. One of the Coroners handed Mulder 
an empty prescription bottle. The evidence all 
pointed to suicide. This was more than Mulder could 
deal with.

"She called me, she wanted to talk, but uh...I 
never called her back."

"Mulder...it wasn't your fault" 

"I didn't... Why would she do this? It just doesn't 
make any sense." 

He moved towards the dresser and saw the empty 
photo frames.

"Why....?"

He sank down onto his mother's bed. I needed to 
hold him, for myself if not for him, but he wasn't 
ready for that yet. He was rationalizing, trying to 
make sense of it all, needing to come up with five 
and not four.

"She saw me on the news. She wanted to talk about 
the missing girl Amber Lynn. She wanted to tell me 
something about her or maybe she couldn't tell me 
over the phone because she was afraid that they 
would do something like this to her."

"Who?"

"Whoever took my sister. Look at this place. I 
mean, it's like...it's-it's all been staged; the 
pills, the oven, the tape. It's like a bad movie
script." 

He got up from the bed.

"They would...they would have come here and they 
would have threatened her. She would have been 
upset, they would have sedated her. I would look 
for a uh...needle puncture mark or something else 
in her system besides these pills.

I suddenly understood what it was he was asking, 
what he needed me to do.

"Oh, no, Mulder. Please don't ask me to do this." 

"Scully, who else can I ask?"

"An autopsy Mulder? I mean, it's one thing on a 
stranger, but you're my friend, and she's your 
mother.. Please...."

"I know, but if you don't do it, I might never know 
the truth."
I saw his hazel eyes liquid with unshed moisture I 
saw the trust, the raw need.
 
When could I ever refuse him anything? He needed 
this so that he could move on. This was what I was 
trained for, wherever it occurred, unexplained 
death had to be explained-to family to friends, to 
the authorities. I would do this for him to the 
best of my ability. His need for closure was so 
much greater than the cost to me.

All the same, I was glad when one of the Agents 
drove him to the airport, leaving me to get on with 
the autopsy alone.

Death has it's procedures and protocols, and this 
was no exception. When his Mom's body was brought 
in, I'd have to take blood samples for analysis, 
then do a clinical autopsy to see if there were any 
medical reason for her death.

I checked out all the paraphernalia I would need- 
measuring tape, camera, tape recorder. I checked 
the tape recorder had a cassette inside and that 
there was a spare one available. I found the small 
scales and containers, labeled tubes for body 
fluids and larger dishes for transporting organs. 
There was a radiographer on duty. 

Normally this would all be the job of the 
assistant, but I needed to make sure that 
everything was just right for his mom. This would 
be my gift to them, this was a form of last rite, 
something useful I could do for the deceased and 
her loved one.

I didn't want to think of anything beyond this room 
with it's gleaming stainless-steel surfaces.

The special protective clothing was lad out, boots, 
to users, fine metal mesh vest, goggles masks, caps 
and long plastic gowns to fit over everything else. 
As I got ready I went over the checklist in my 
head,

I walked up to the gurney as the body was brought 
in. One of the attendants was arranging Petri 
dishes, slides and pipette on the bench. Between 
them they lifted the bagged form from the gurney to 
the stainless-steel table.

Was it suicide? Suicidal people have been known to 
have last minute regrets. These thoughts muddled 
through my brain. 

I was glad that the ultimate decision was not solely 
mine to make.  The coroner too would be involved in 
deciding whether it was an accident or suicide.

My job was to collect the evidence, to give the 
medical facts, not the supposition of why it 
happened. I could only supply so much information. 
I could say how a person died-the actual cause of 
death, the non-medical things had to be gleaned 
from other sources.

Fully garbed now, I walked across to the table, 
then closed my eyes for a moment. Shutting down my 
connection to this woman through her son my 
partner, I let my training and experience take 
over. With all my forensic medicine experience I 
pride myself on being good at this.

To work!

I turned on the recorder.

"I'll do a full external and internal examination, 
take blood, stomach and bladder content samples for 
full tox screening and prepare sections of the 
organs for lab testing."

I began, speaking quietly and distinctly into the 
microphone next to my head; recording the height, 
weight and physical appearance of the victim who 
had been Teena Mulder.

I worked quickly but methodically, moving from one 
stage to the next, relaxing enough to concentrate 
on detail. After photographing the body, I began 
the full external exam.

Starting at the neck and shoulders I detailed every 
mark, every mole any sign of injury. Bearing in 
mind Mulder's concern, I paid particular attention 
to the skin where needle tracks might show. There 
was a mole on her thigh.

"Puncture marks?" My assistant asked.

I shook my head. "No. They can be disguised but 
there'd be some ridging of the skin."

I kept reminding myself of the importance of 
emotional detachment.
I left the head till last, I've always done that, 
probably because that's the order of the internal 
exam. Her face, was at peace but mask-like, emptied 
of life.


Taking the scalpel I began the Y-incision., and 
then carried on to cut up both sides of the ribcage 
to expose the chest cavity. 
Blood had to be taken from the heart, then removed 
together with the lungs, esophagus and trachea. 
Next the weighing and examining of the organs.

Abdomen next-fluid aspirated for analysis, general 
appearance any obvious injury? Once I'd removed the 
stomach and slit it I dictated the contents, before 
emptying them into a sterile jar. It would go to 
the labs with the blood and a sample of bladder 
contents, which I drew up and released into a small 
vial.

It was time to move to the head, as I lifted the 
scalpel for the first incision, something made me 
pause. I know faces aren't truly symmetrical, but 
there was something more than that here. As I 
probed the head it became more obvious. Why hadn't 
I spotted this before? I asked for X-ray to be 
taken, that and testing the blood should confirm my 
suspicions.

An hour and a half later I was finished. Slides and 
samples had been packaged In cool boxes for 
transportation to Pathology. All that remained was 
to sign the authority for the body to be taken to 
the funeral home.

The x-rays did confirm my suspicions, there was 
evidence of pagetic bone in the skull. The blood 
was further proof. There were abnormally high 
levels of total alkaline phosphates present. Teena 
Mulder had suffered From Paget's disease.

I remembered Mulder saying his mom was getting a 
bit hard of hearing. He'd put it down to her age. 
It was more likely due to the Paget's.

Before I left for Washington I had another shock, 
further tests had shown the full extent of Teena 
Mulder illness.



MULDER'S APARTMENT
1:52 AM

I was so weary when I finally reached Mulder. He 
looked disorientated as he opened the door and we 
stood awkwardly for a moment, before he reached 
behind me to close it. 
He couldn't have long been home, his hair was still 
damp from the shower and he'd changed into jeans 
and gray t-shirt.

"I'm glad you're here Scully. My mother was trying 
to tell me something. I think I've figured it out. 
It's something about my sister, something she was 
never able to tell me. Listen" 

Mulder went over to his desk and hit the replay 
button on the answering machine and his living room 
was filled with is mom's voice.

"Fox, it's your mother. I'd hoped you'd call upon 
your return but I haven't heard from you. I'm sure 
you're busy. There are...so many emotions in me I 
wouldn't know where to start. So much I've left 
unsaid, for reasons that I hope one day you'll 
understand."

Mulder's face was grief-stricken. He replayed the 
last part again.

"So much that I've left unsaid for reasons that I 
hope one day you'll understand."

"She knew what I'd find with this case out in 
California."

"How *could* she know that, Mulder?" 

"A child disappearing without trace, without 
evidence, in defiance of all logical explanation? 
She knew because of what's driven me, what I've 
always believed."

"Mulder...." 

"Scully, these parents who've lost..." he paused, 
swallowing painfully. 

"Who've lost their children. They've had visions of 
their sons and daughters in scenarios that never 
happened but which they 
describe in notes that came through then as 
automatic writing and words that came through them 
psychically from old souls protecting the children. 
My mother must have written a note like that 
herself. Describing the scenario of my sister's 
disappearance, of her...of her abduction by aliens. 
Don't you see Scully? It never happened. All these 
visions that I've had have been Just....They've 
been to help me cope, to deal with the loss 
but...I've been looking for my sister in the wrong 
places. That's what my mother was trying to tell 
me. That's what she was trying to warn me about. 
That's why they killed her." 

Mulder's eyes were gleaming with moisture, his 
breath caught in his chest as he spoke. 

"Mulder...."

This was going to be so hard to do. Knowing what 
this was going to do to him, there was no easy way 
of saying it. 

"Your mother killed herself, Mulder."  I took a 
deep breath.

"I conducted the autopsy. She was dying of an 
incurable disease. An untreatable and horribly 
disfiguring disease called Paget's Carcinoma. She 
knew it, there were doctor's records. She didn't 
want to live." 

He stared at me, not believing. With his arms over 
his chest he was trying to catch his breath. One 
hand came up to cover the grayness of his face. He 
was trembling. I put my hand on his shoulder but he 
flinched away.

"I saw it Mulder," I whispered. "I saw the reason."

The explosion of anger was sudden, jumping up he 
violently shook his desk, but collapsed in the 
chair as the anger evaporated just as fast. 

I leaned into him, I tried to take him in my arms, 
but he didn't respond. He held himself separate, 
his face turned away. He was holding on so tightly 
to his emotions, I wanted him to let go, I wanted 
to hold and comfort him. 

I*had* to be strong for him. He'd said once that I 
was his touchstone, I needed to be that for him 
now.

"Mulder...I'm so sorry." 

"She was trying to tell me something. She was..." 

His voice broke as the tears finally broke the dam  
and he collapsed back into the chair, "...trying to 
tell me something."

He sobbed, shying away, backing into the 
chair. His head hang over the arm, his arms covered 
his eyes. 

His brokenness scared me. I tried hard to keep a 
grip, to be strong for him, but still couldn't stop 
the stray tear escaping.

Unsure of what he needed from me, I squatted in 
front of him and touched his knee as I looked up 
into his face. My hand brushing the stray bangs of 
hair off his forehead of it's own volition.

"Mulder, she was trying to tell you to stop. To 
stop looking for your sister. She wanted to tell 
you about what she had. I don't think she knew how 
to Mulder. She was just trying to take away your 
pain."

Mulder couldn't bear to hear it. He plunged into my 
arms, burying his head in my shoulder, clinging on 
so tightly I could scarcely breathe. 

"Hold me Scully, just hold me." 

That was one thing I could do. Hold him and comfort 
him, 
protected him, while his large frame shook with 
grief.

"Oh, Mulder...."
 
I finally allowed the tears to fall, crying for him 
and with him. For all the guilt he carried, for the 
burden he'd shouldered for so very long, for his 
lost childhood, for everything he had given up in 
his quest for the truth. I wanted to stop him 
hurting, to stop his pain; just as his mom had 
done. 

I eased him onto the couch and slid onto it beside 
him not knowing how to ease the pain, I pulled him 
gently down to my lap. As I cradled his shaking 
body holding him tightly, he let out a deep sigh 
and curled around me, burying his face in my 
stomach. As another wave of grief hit him, he wept 
like a child and I wept with him. 

I pulled the Navajo blanket over him to keep him 
warm, brushing his hair away from his flushed face. 
Did he know that I would always be there for him 
no matter what?

It wasn't clear when the comforter became the 
comforted, a sob that caught in my chest made him 
turn and look up into my puffy eyes. What did he 
see there? 
 
"Oh, God, Scully..." 

He took my face between his palms, his thumbs 
stroked across my cheeks. Shifting, he pulled me to 
rested against his chest, cradled me in his arms.

His head dropped down to mine and his soft lips 
kissed the tears away. 

"It's okay Scully, we'll get through this. If 
you're beside me..." 

His soft warm mouth moved down my face in tiny 
butterfly kisses and then I tasted the saltiness of 
our tears on as his lips finally rested on mine.

Clinging together, our kisses full of passion, 
desperation and healing as the storm raged in us, 
till at last we came to enough to try to pull away 
Our breath uneven as we tried  control our 
emotions. 

My breath hitched as I lay trembled in his 
encircling arms; melting against 
his chest until, the sound of his heartbeat lulling 
me to sleep. As I drifted off, cocooned in his 
body, he gently rocked me, making me feel very 
precious.


6:34 AM

The insistent knocking woke me with a start. I 
claimed off the couch careful not to disturb 
Mulder. Sleeping entwined with your partner on his 
couch makes for very crumpled clothes and pins and 
needles in your arm.

Couldn't the Bureau *ever* leave us be, weren't we 
allowed even a few hours sleep? It had only just 
gone half past six for god sake. This had better be 
good.
Finger combing my disheveled hair, I opened the 
door to Skinner. Now, why wasn't that a surprise?
"Hi."

"Hi," I replied.

Skinner looked into the apartment and then at me. 

"How's he doing?" 

"It's been a bad night for him."

"Billie LaPierre is asking for him. She's got 
something to say and she'll only talk with Mulder." 

"It's not a good..." I protested but stopped as 
Mulder got off the couch and came to stand behind 
me.

"What is it Sir?" 

"The case has heated up Mulder. I've booked two 
flights for us."

I looked up at Mulder supportive glances, it was 
comforting to feel his hand in the small of my 
back. There was an almost imperceptible nod of his 
head before he went back into the apartment to pack 
a bag. 

"You'd better make that three, Sir" 


Mulder had found it difficult to think that his 
sister might be dead, but with what he'd learnt 
since.... Things might be beginning to make sense 
to Mulder, but I was getting more and more uneasy. 


SACRAMENTO

Billie LaPierre, described seeing her daughter in 
pajamas, trying to say something to her mother, her 
lips moving with no sound. The words might have 
been 'seventy-four'.
 
I had to leave the interview, it was too much like 
when Dad died, too close to home.

But it was Mulder's reaction after the interview 
that had both Skinner and me concerned.

He wanted to go home, he told us, Amber Lynn was 
dead.

"I don't know what the truth is and what isn't 
anymore. I'm way to close to this case to make any 
kind of sound judgment. In fact, I would like to 
ask for you to let me off this case, please, and 
I'd like to take some time off."

Skinner and I exchanged looks, Mulder, walked 
towards the car. Thank God it was over. I could 
take him home.

As we drove I spotted something that made me make 
the sort of leap Mulder does so often. My hands 
trembled as I opened the map and ran my finger to 
Highway 74.

"Agent Scully....What is it?"  

"Santa Claus!"

This jarred Mulder out of where ever he'd been. 
"What?" He asked with interest.

"Stop! Turn the car around!" Skinner obeyed.


SANTA CLAUS VILLAGE

Later, as I read the suspect his rights, I was 
distracted by the look of horror on Mulder's face.

"Scully...."

There, to the side was a freshly dug, child-size 
grave. All around were small mounds of soil, dozens 
of them. 

The recovery process was very traumatic, many of 
the men openly crying as they gently disinterred 
the remains of so many young innocents.


Back at the Sacramento PD, we uncovered the full 
extent of Ed Truelove's crimes. Twenty-four 
children in all, but he refused to take the blame 
for Amber Lynn and her body wasn't found. 


Strangely, Mulder wanted one of the graves to be 
that of Samantha. After all the years of searching, 
and what we'd  discovered now, he was desperate for 
closure.


Harold Piller, a psychic who'd gotten some strong 
'hits' from the Amber Lynn case came into the 
equation now. Mulder was so vulnerable at the  
moment; I dreaded what this could do to him. 
 
I *was* suspicious, and rightly so judging by what 
the check disclosed. The man had a history of 
mental problems and was a subject of criminal 
investigation.
 
"Oh, he led you, Mulder. He led you from the moment 
that he met you,"  

"What do you mean Scully?"

I had to tell him what I knew.

To his credit when we confronted Piller later, he 
didn't deny the charges, although he did offer an 
explanation. He only wanted to help us and to find 
his own son who disappeared in similar 
circumstances. 

He felt that somehow Amber Lynn and Samantha were 
linked. He made a compelling case, compelling 
enough to persuade me to go along with this and act 
against my better judgment. 
 
Once in the house in the abandoned air-base, Piller 
asked them to join hands so that he could try to 
summons the spirits. I almost laughed at the 
suggestion, but Mulder needed this.

We all three joined hands; Mulder looked grateful 
as he took my hand. 

I became conscious that Mulder was missing. We 
found him in another room, Mulder's only 
explanation was that a boy had taken him by the 
hand and led him down the hall and then Mulder 
discovered the little book.

"It's a diary. It's your sister's" Piller told us. 

Later that night as the two of us sat in the 
restaurant, Mulder read the contents of Samantha's 
diary. 
It was a tremendous effort for him; he'd pause to 
gain control of himself. I could only watch him as 
he struggled to come to terms with what had been 
written by the frightened 14 year old.
 
Samantha's diary described the tests, the lies, her 
suspicions that her memories had been taken by the 
doctors. 

I saw the pain he was in. Why did he have to suffer 
so? Hadn't he endured 
enough?
 
It was very difficult to listen to the piteous 
entries. Samantha vaguely remembered a brother, 
with brown hair, who used to tease her.
Mulder came to a stop here, eyes luminescent with 
tears, then taking a deep breath to steady himself 
he continued. 

"I hope that someday he reads this and knows I wish 
I could see his face for real."

Mulder's breath caught at that. He paused biting 
his lip and couldn't read on. He skimmed through 
the entries. 

"And then, uh...she's, uh... talking about running 
away. She wants to run away so that they stop doing 
the tests..."

He put the journal on the table between us and I 
read the last entry. 

"No more. No more tests. No more questions. I'm 
getting out of here and not turning back. Tonight. 
Tonight I'm going to run far, far away. I can't let 
them catch me. They'll kill me if they do. Running 
for my life for the rest of my life."

Tears made reading this last part difficult. I had 
to blink violently to clear my eyes, to see the 
entry. Mulder's eyes were downcast, looking at the 
book, I took his trembling, cold hand and held it 
tightly. What was there to say? Any words would 
seem trite. 

"Come on, Let's get out of here Mulder."
 
Outside, looking up at the stars, he considered.

"You know, I never stopped to think...that the 
light is billions of years old by the time we see 
it. From the beginning of time right past us to the 
future. Nothing is ancient in the universe."  

"But, maybe they are souls, Scully. Traveling 
through time as starlight, 
looking for homes." He paused, "I wonder what my 
mother saw? I wonder what she was trying to tell 
me?"

I squeezed his arm gently. "Go, get some sleep."

He interlinked fingers and returned the gesture.

"All right."

He needed to be alone. I brushed my fingers over 
his cheek and along his jaw, and went to bed.


Next morning I came across a police report dating 
back to 1979 with a description matching Samantha.

We checked out the hospital and found the reports 
relating to the 'Jane Doe'. The girl had exhibited 
signs of paranoia and the injuries had been 
consistent with tests. The only witness was the 
nurse who'd signed the girl in. 

We'd traced the woman by nightfall, but Mulder 
wouldn't come in to see her.

"What's wrong?"

"I...I have this... powerful feeling and I can't 
explain it, but that...this is the end of the road. 
That I've been brought here to learn the truth."

"Are you ready for it?"

Mulder nodded his head. 

"Do you want me to talk to her myself?"
Mulder nodded again.

"Okay." 

We left him outside by the car. 

She remembered the pretty young girl, how shortly 
afterwards she'd had a 
vision of the girl dead. No one had  believed her 
when she'd told them.
Then men came to pick her up. The strange thing was 
that she'd gone.
Disappeared out of a locked room. Just vanished.

I looked for Mulder, but he was no longer by the 
car. Then I saw him walking towards me, a look of 
deep peace on his face.

"Mulder, where did you go?"

"End of the road."

Mulder turned to Piller "He's okay. It's okay."

"My son. You saw my son?"

"He'd dead. They're all dead, Harold. Your son, 
Amber Lynn and my sister."

"Mulder, what happened? Are you sure you're all 
right?"  Looking up at his face the torment in his 
eyes had been replaced by tranquility.

"I'm fine," he assured me, as his gaze rose up to 
the starry sky.

"I'm free." He said in a whisper.
 
He caught me to him, enfolding me in his arms. I 
laid my head against his heart and listened to his 
quiet heartbeat..

"Oh Scully," he whispered, his breath ruffling my 
hair. 


We made the journey back to Washington in almost 
silence, both of us busy with our thoughts.

On the plane Mulder covered my hand with his and 
said in a low voice, "Thank you for being there for 
me, for understanding, I know how much it cost 
you." 

For some reason this made tears come to my eyes. 
He'd seen then even though I'd turned my head away 
and pretended to look out of the plane window. 

"I'll tell you everything Scully, I promise, just 
give me a little time. 'Kay?" He squeezed my hand 
and I returned the gesture

"'Kay." I smiled

He lifted the arm rest, draped his arm about my 
shoulder and  pulled me gently to him.

"How about you and I getting some rest now, I 
promise I'll explain when we get home."

Home.

MULDER'S APARTMENT

We managed to sleep a little on the plane, and 
reported back to Skinner on our arrival back in 
Washington. Skinner granted Mulder compassionate 
leave.

"You'd better go with him Scully, keep him out of 
trouble eh." He smiled. 

About an hour later we were awaited the delivery, 
of a pizza with everything but the kitchen sink on 
it. At least his appetite was returning.


After we'd eaten he draw me close to him on his 
couch and began to speak.

"I want to believe we are unaware of God's eternal 
recompense and sadness; that we cannot see his 
truth. That, that which is born, still lives and 
cannot be buried in the cold earth, but only waits 
to be born again at God's behest." 

"At the base, there was a little boy of about five 
who took my hand and led me to where Samantha's 
diary was hidden, that was where you found me. And 
later, later after we'd read her words...Mom came 
into my room that night. I saw her, she leant over 
me I could see her mouth moving, I couldn't make 
out the words, but I just knew she was at peace and 
that soon I would find peace too."

I didn't want to interrupt him. As he spoke, his 
face took on a dreamy quality.

"I saw the boy again when we went to interview the 
nurse. He came and took my hand and led me up that 
small hill. There were children there, so many of 
them, of all ages; all playing together. They were 
happy. I saw Amber Lynn, she came over to me and 
smiled up at me. Then that I saw her. A pretty 
brown haired girl who ran towards me...Samantha.

She hugged me so tightly and touched my face, and 
with that touch I was at peace. She was real, I 
could feel her in my arms, felt her silky hair as I 
ran my fingers through it. 

I could smell the scent that was Sam as I kissed 
her head. She didn't need me to grieve for her, 
this was completion for us. She let me hold her for 
a little while, and then...It was all gone, and I 
was walking towards you. No... not all gone. I feel 
her still, here inside me, and the peace she 
brought me."

"Mulder..." I hugged him fiercely trying not to 
cry.
"Scully," He said softly as I met his eyes. "It's 
going to be okay."

End 
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'Tread softly for you tread on my dreams.'
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