From: Katherine Adams Date: Tue, 26 Feb 2002 19:35:16 +0000 Subject: Future Past Perfect Source: direct May 18, 2001; 12:35pm Newberry SC; Dangler residence There were three victims. Holly Dangler, 16, and Mary Alice Dangler, Becky Gilquist, both 17, and Ezekiel Rawlston, 18. Luckily, Mulder had the foresight to call when they first got there from the hotel for appointments with the victims' families. Sam had arrived to find a modest trailer home drenched in tobacco stains. Rita Dangler sat in the living room of her trailer, clutching a box of kleanex and intermittently puffing a cigarrette that seemed to be as much a part of her as her fingers that held it. She seemed to add unnecessary syllables to very word she spoke. "So you told Officer Lott that Holly and Mary Alice were at Myrtle on Spring Break?" Sam asked, trying to get the right mix of detatchment sincerity, and sympathy in his tone. Tears were bubbling beneath her words. "Yeyas. Theyah was with their friends Paul and Zeke and Zeke's guhrruhlfreeyund Bayckeh. He cawalled meh on Thursdahay aiskin' fer eyggstra cash." She burried her face in her tissue. Sam sat there stoically, writing her words down--at least what words from her Southern dialect he could translate. "Uh-huh. What did you see happening to your sons before they died? "Ah didn't see 'em," Mrs. Dangler sobbed. "They were uhwayah at schewuhl. The UMCS up th' road." Sam thought, knowing full well the country definition of 'up the road' could mean an hour and a half drive. "Did they tell you they were sick...anything?" Mrs. Dangler only rattled her head no. "I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Dangler. We'll be in touch." Sam showed himself out, and after picking up fast-food for lunch, he headed for his next appointment at the Gilquist's residence. At the Gilquist's he found a ice-cold pitcher of sweet iced tea, a fresh bundt cake, Harold, the victim's father, and Maggie, her mother waiting for him. They were stone-calm in their small, tastefull house decorated in country colors. He could tell their grief was dormant underneath their words. Again, Sam asked the same standard questions he had posed Mrs. Dangler, trying to find the right mix in his tone between sympathy, detatchment, and sincerity. "You told the officer that she was at Myrtle Beach for vacation a few days before this happened?" The Gillquests nodded simultaneously. "Did she tell you she wasn't feeling well before this all happened?" He decided to use a little more tact this time. The Gillquists looked thoughtful for a minute. Again, a simultaneous nod. "Yes," Mrs. Gillquist finally answered. "She was complaining of not being able to keep anything down. She had this burning sensation in her stomach whenever she swallowed, she said. She also said that she had a constant burning sensation in her chest...like heartburn." Sam wished his short hand was better as he chicken-scratched Mrs. Gillquist's response. "Thank you for all your help, Mr. and Mrs. Gillquist. We'll keep in touch." Sam looked at his watch. Mulder was probably getting out of surgery now. He knew if he was going to keep his promise to Scully he needed to get back to the hospital soon. If he hadn't thought he needed to get this case solved soon, he would've stayed to offer his medical expertise. Mrs. Gillquist tugged at Sam's arm on his way out the door. "Mrs. Hayward called me and told me about your partner. He'll be in my prayers, miss." Sam smiled faintly. "Thanks Mrs. Gilquist. Well...uh...I need to get going. Thanks." Sam said, and waved a good bye as he headed out the door. Back at the hospital, Mulder was just getting out of surgery. He was still sedated under the anesthesia. It would be a while till he got out of it. Sam decided to sit at the chair by his bed and salvage some sleep while he waited for Al. "Sam! Saaaaaam!" He was yanked out of his sleep by Al's smoke- scratched voice to his right. "So how's the kid doing?" Al asked as he gnawed on his cigar. "He should be okay. How's Scully holding up?" Al nodded, indicating she was fine. "Oh man, Sam...you wouldn't believe what happened. Agent Doggett--" "The guy who called you yesterday?" Al nodded. Sam's expression urged him to continue. "He found the project complex and broke in past the secretaries, gaurds and everything. I don't know how he did it." "Maybe he got by with a little help from Dr. Scully's friends?" "Who knows? She's debriefing him right now." Sam was encouraged by the heartrate picking up, but figured it had to be a while before Scully's partner came out of the anesthesia. "Al, I'm worried about Mulder. I think it might not be a bad idea when the A.D. gets here to report him. He almost got himself killed today." Fox Mulder was beginning to come out from under anesthesia. Slowly memories of the case...of Scully acting un-Scully-like... flooded back. He couldn't quite piece it together. She was the same mothery skeptic she always was...but something had been different since yesterday. He couldn't shake that look she had had earlier in the office after she first came in off his mind-- like she had no memory of him whatsoever. Mulder was stupified and groggy, and decided to keep his eyes close a while longer... he thought...<"I love you" coming from *me* is strange.> "So does Dr. Scully have any insights yet on this case?" <*Dr. Scully?* Why was Scully referring to herself as someone else?> Mulder saw Scully react to something that wasn't there. "Sam, I think you better stop yappin'. The kid's awake." Sam spun around at Al's suggestion and saw a look of panic on Mulder's face that had drowned his features. If Mulder wasn't strapped to the bed, Sam would've found himself in two positions, either diving noseward from the throw of a punch or staring down the barrell of a gun. Instead, all Mulder could settle for was a dangerous look and a slow, explosive, steady tone. Al and Sam both stood stock-still as Mulder demanded what had been clamoring on the edge of his thoughts for the past two days. "Where's Scully? "Mulder...Scully--I'm right here." He said, barely catching himself. "Sam, remember," Al warned, "if you let on who you really are-- Poof! we could go into oblivion faster than Jimmy Hoffa." "You're *NOT* Scully. I just heard you referring to her as another person. I heard you talking to thin air as though you were having a one-sided conversation." Mulder felt completely helpless. It was all his fault. It was his quest that got him in this situation, and his search for the truth that might have cost him Scully--again. Sam really felt sorry for the guy. Mulder couldn't understand what was going on. He thought his partner was gone. He tried to calm Mulder down the best he could. "Mulder, your mind was just playing tricks on you with the anesthesia. I'm Dana Scully--your partner." "Nice save, Sam." Al encouraged. "I'm not buyin'. I know what I saw. I know what I heard. You're not Dana Scully. Now tell me the truth!" "Mulder, I'm Dr. Dana Scully." Sam lied again "Alright, if you're Dana Scully, then tell me what my lucky number is." Sam was silent. "If you're Dana Scully, then tell me what my favorite movie is?" Sam was still silent. He couldn't answer. Al was panicking. "Sam, I'm outta here! If you tell that kid who you really are, I want that nurse at the counter to be the last thing I see." "Mulder, you wouldn't believe me even if I could tell you." "Try me." "I--" he gave a warning look back at Al. Roswell, NM; QLHDQRTRS 9:47 AM It took everything Doggett had in him not to tell Scully what happened to her. By now, he was used to getting left-field theories from his partner, but this one...this one was wierd. It was beyond wierd...just plain bizzare. "So, Scully. Just let me see if I got this right." His expression was pointed, as if he was trying not to laugh in disbelief. "You're tellin' me all this is part of a time-travel experiment, and you're not actually this guy right here," he flashed a photocopied picture he had of Sam, "But Dana Scully as she existed in 2001, so this guy" he held up a picture again, "Can help that guy," he pointed at Mulder "fix what went wrong in the original history." Scully nodded. "That would be correct, John." came the droning "voice" of the computer. There is a 94-point-five percent possibility that you're finding this all a bit hard to believe." Doggett flashed an awkward smile up at in the computer's direction, and Scully shot Ziggy a dirty look. "Ziggy, don't you have something useful to do?" Scully wanted to know. "Dr. Scully, right now, I am configuring statistics on fossils found carbon dating to the paleolithic era, playing a game of chess with the world's top player, and stylistically differentiating the different authors of what are perported to be Shakespearean plays. I was *built* to be useful." Doggett could have sworn he saw the computer module smirk. "Agent Doggett, we need your help." Dr. Beeks was saying. "You came here looking for information on the murder of Fox Mulder. We don't know anymore than you do at this point, because we can't access the FBI files. But both you and Dr. Scully know people who possibly can." Doggett looked at Dr. Becket-er...Scully--quizzically. "The Gunmen?" She answered. Doggett sighed and got out his cell phone. "Hey, Byers, you guys feel like taking a trip to Roswell?" Doggett nodded during the slight pause. "How soon can you boys catch a plane out here?" The Lone Gunmen were on their way. 3:47 pm Newberry Memorial Hospital; Newberry, SC. Just then, the doctor walked in. Sam sighed in relief at not having to answer the question just then. "Well, Mr. Mulder. Everything appears to be normal, it looks like you'll be fine, and should be walking in a day or so." Mulder closed his eyes in relief. "Thanks." "I'll send orders for a prescription for the pain. But now--" the doctor stopped to look at the watch--"huh...that's weird...the compass on my watch is going all haywire. Huh! How 'bout that. Oh well...I guess I'll just hafta get a new battery. Anyway, I need to be going. I have a golf date with a colleague. I'll be by to check on you again during my morning rounds. Bye!" The doctor wagged his head, dumbstruck as the compass seemed to fix itself again as soon as he stepped out of the room. "Al, I seriously don't see another way around this. He knows anyway,if we poofed out of existence because of Mulder finding out, we would've been long gone." "Al? Who's Al? What the hell is going on?" "Mulder, you and your partner are part of a time-travel experiment." "Sam, I'm warning you! You tell this kid about the project and we go bye-bye." Sam could almost see the acid churning in Al's stomach. "Al, I'm telling you, it's the only way! My name is Dr. Samuel Becket, and I am from the future in a time machine that I built." "The Playwright? Don't tell me you're another nutcase that needs to destroy his time machine." Sam was glad Mulder was buying his explanation. "No, no...not at all...I'm a physicist." "Nobel-prize winner? I saw you on the cover of Newsweek a few years back. Who are you talking to?" "Oh. Uh, this is my friend Al Calivici." Sam gestured to the air where Al was. He's a friend of mine who helps on the leaps, sometimes." Sam was actually relieved he didnt' need to keep up the sherade anymore. "So, Dr. Becket. What are you here to fix? I hope it's not my love life, because that would be damn pathetic if you came all the way across time and space to fix that." May 18, 2015; 4:02pm Roswell, NM; PQLHDQRTRS Doggett met Byers, Langly, Frohike, Jimmy, and Yves at the gates, who were each carrying as much equipment as they could in one load, explaining exactly what Scully had explained to him. "So no telling her, anything, ok? Seriously fellas..." he looked nervously over at Yves, "and ma'am...if she finds out anything that's happened to her in this history, it could make all of us disappear." "Cool!" Langly seemed grimly delighted by the prospect. Byers let an aggrivated sigh, and followed Doggett in. "So *that's* what they're hiding in area 51, huh Doggett? No little green men after all?" The wheels were already turning in Byers' head for the next Lone Gunmen issue. What a great cover story this would make! "Don't even think about it, Byers." Yves countered. They went inside the complex, and were given the grand tour. "The computer module doesn't have any extra outlets for our laptops. How do we communicate?" "Like you would talk to everyone else." The computer module chirpped. "Speak to me." Frohike was embarrassed, and they were all starring in awe at the machine, looking around, trying to figure out how it worked. "I'm capable of composing music based on fractal equations, writing twenty thousand programs, patting my head, and rubbing my tummy." If that weren't a computer, Frohike could've sworn he heard her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Ziggy, I think I'm in love." Langly's nasally voice was dreamier than either Scully or Doggett had ever heard it before. "You like Megadeath?" "Put a sock in it." The module answered dryly. "What do you know, a million megabytes of megab*tch." Grumbled Frohike. "This is so awesome!" Jimmy was poking around the project like a little kid in a toystore, being interrupted every now and then by Verbeena Beeks' stern warning "Don't touch that!" To which, Jimmy pearched up on the research table. "Hey, can you beam me up?" "Boys," Yves was always aggitated, trying to bring them back to earth. "We got work to do." "So is there any main computer we can hook our systems up to?" "Over here, this is the mainframe." Goushie said, relieved that Jimmy and Langly were going to be occupied for a while, and showed Byers and Yves where to set-up. Doggett and Scully hoped that the Gunmen could do their job. Newberry Memorial Hospital "See, Al...I told you we wouldn't disappear. Remember Tamlin? When I told her who I was? We didn't disappear then, either, because she knew already." "That china doll and Roy Neary over there are different situations enTIRELY! We were lucky we didn't disappear like a pizza in front of Marlon Brando." Al punched in a few buttons in the handlink. "Tamlin?" Mulder was confused. "Tamlin's this girl I met in San Fransisco a while back. She found out who I was, too." "So, seriously...what are you here to fix? I'd hate to think God, or time, or whatever it was who pinballed you around sent you here for my lovelife. That would be just pathetic. You ever think that what's leaping you around are an alien race?" "No--I don't think so." He never considered that possibility. He just always got the feeling that it was some omniscient entity with an agenda for good. "You really believe in little green men, don't you Mulder? I mean, don't you think it could be just that you blindly want to assume that some big bad alien took your sister so that you can have something to fight against?" "They're gray. You know what took me so long to catch on that you weren't Scully?" Sam shook his head. "Because right now, you're sounding a lot like her. After all you've seen in the files from that basement office--how can you *not* understand that we're not alone...and the truth Scully and I have fought so hard for is in that understanding?" Sam remembered the mantra on the poster on the office wall back in D.C. "I want to believe--but I can't. Not without physical evidence." "Look me up when you leap back home. I'll set you and Scully up. You two would be perfect for each other." Sam whirled around to face Al as the handlink to Ziggy's mainframe hised and whirred and beeped like crazy. The panic swam back to Mulder's face, responding to Sam's. "Sam, you changed history. Mulder doesn't get killed anymore. Scully does." "Sam, is Scully alright? Where is she?" "Scully's fine for now. She's in the future...in my time...at the project." "What do you mean, *for now? Sam, I don't like this!" "I don't get it Al...what happened between now and this afternoon that changed things?" "Changed what things? What things changed?" "Uh...Sam--the kid?" Sam had nearly forgotten that Mulder was there. "Sam, is there anyway I can see Al? It's like a constant two- sided three-party telephone conversation here. Just getting a little complicated" "Uh...I don't think so. The experiment was tuned to Al's and my brainwave's only." "Maybe we should get two cans and a string. Wait a sec...what if we've got similar brainwaves? Could I register Al's signal then?" "Hang on kid, lemme try something." Al said as if Mulder could here him, and punched a few buttons. "Sam, ask the kid what his psychological profile is." "Mulder, what's your psychological profile?" Sam looked at Al a little confused, wondered what Al was getting at. "If we can find similatities in your profiles, then bingo bango bongo, we can rewire the neurotransmitters so both of you can see me." "Uh...photographic memory," Mulder wasn't used to being the one with the left-field theories. "Al," Sam was protesting, "we don't know what part of the brain that's responsible for that yet...how can it be possible..." "Bippety..." Al said, punching in a few keys to the handlink. "Genius I.Q," "What if it takes up a lot more power than we can affoard? Al--I don't think it's the greatest idea in the world..." "Boppety..." a few more keys punched into the handlink. "Boo. Hi kid, how's it going." Suddenly, Mulder could see a shorter man with dark-set eyes and dark hair, greying at the temples in a dolphin-gray suit with a gold-color tie with matching shoes, and plumb colored shirt sporting a cigar. "Hey Al. So what costume shop did you pick that get-up at? No *wonder* Scully thought the project was a practical joke." "*VERY* funny." Al made a face, "At least I'm not wearing something with a draft. I don't think that was in at the beginning of the melinnium." "You know, you two were made for each other." Sam piped up. "Could you two stop going at it for two seconds so we can figure out what to do?" Sam was secretly glad that someone else had to deal with Al's weird sense of humor for a change. "I can't tell you what happens, Mulder. It's against the regulations of the project." Sam was beginning to feel like a gradeschool teacher. "Wait a sec...how did you know that stuff about my sister?" "I spent most of last night reading Scully's e-log." He said, and rubbed his eyes, just then realizing how extremely exhausted he was. "And here I was thinking my insomnia was contagious." Then, shifting gears completely, "So, what happens?" "If you knew, everything could go ca-ca." Al interjected. "I'm not exactly supposed to find out who you are, either, Sam." "Mulder, even if you knew what happened, exactly what can you do about it strapped to a bed?" Sam countered. "I have my connections, Sam. Hey--wait a sec...what if you just stayed here. No way anything could happen just hanging out in the hospital room." "He's got a point Al. See what Ziggy says." Sam leaned over Al's shoulder as he pushed a few keys in the handlink. "Nope." Al shook his head, "No dice, kid. Still a 72 percent possibility with that scenerio." "Possibility of what?" Mulder still was going to do everything he could to get an answer out of the hologram. "I told you, Mulder..." Al used a phrase he heard Agent Doggett use a couple of times. "I can't tell you that." "Alright, Sam, why don't you go and see if you can find out anything." "What about Mulder?" Sam couldn't break his promise to Scully. "Sam, don't worry about me, I've got Casper over here to keep me company." "Kid, if I weren't a hologram--" Al shook his cigar at him threateningly. Sam took one last worried look at the bullets that seemed to fire between the two of them. "Play nice, you two. I'll be back when I can." With that, Sam left. Al sat in a silence that seemed to fog the room for a few seconds as Mulder channel-surfed. "Hey, look at that...they're making fun of Plan 09 From Outter-Space on Mystery Science Theatre" Al suddenly had a revelation. He would be damned if he was going to help the kid sitting in the hospital bed next too him, but he wanted to help Dana. What if he got Mulder to leave the FBI? He really got a kick out of playing matchmaker sometimes. "Hey, Mulder...now that you've found out about your sister...ever thought about just picking up and leaving the FBI?" "Yeah...it has crossed my mind, actually. It's put too many people at risk. I just don't think I could bring myself to leave Scully alone in that office. She's completely ruined her career...risked her life...lost her sister, and a child, and her chance to have kids...I don't think I could just pick up and leave--not after that. I need to make sure she's ok. The FBI's not much, but it's the only way I can do that." "Mulder, what the hell were you doing pawning Scully off on Sam like that earlier? Not only are you a royal pain in the a$$, you're a bonefide yabbo for giving up a woman like that!" "Al...I told her once. She shrugged me off. No way am I gonna resurrect that ghost." Mulder couldn't even look at Al as he was saying this. "You think she'd stay in the FBI anymore if you weren't there?" "Probably not...but then, I still couldn't look after her. She knows too much now. The guy who did this to me and his lackies would make sure one way or the other that her information would go with her to the grave. I can't let that happen." "What if Sam got that Krycek yahoo?" "You know, I never really even thought about it. I've never considered leaving as an option." Mulder let out a sigh as if he didn't even realize he was holding in his breath. Mulder was begining to grow on Al. Like Mulder, Al knew what it was like to come from a broken home. Like Mulder, Al knew what it was to loose a sister. He reminded him of himself about thirty years or so ago. Maybe that's why the kid irritated him to the core. "Come on, Mulder...it could be a real possibility. Sam and I have about as good a success rate as you and Dana. If that's what it takes to change history, it could mean that schnoz would be worm food. Go ahead...dream a little...what would you do?" Al took a puff of his cigar as if it were a challenge. Mulder was thoughtful for a minute, eyes still intent on the television, not quite able to look at Al. "I guess I could get a professorship somewhere and teach psychology, or offer my expertise as a consultant or something like that." "You know what I meant, Mulder." Al pressed. He could tell Mulder was avoiding the answer. Exactly what was Al trying to get at? "Scully and I weren't meant to be like that. Not Scully. Not Dana." Mulder was close to tears now. "Mulder, what happens to the soul and what is meant to be isn't sealed by fate alone. Trust me on this one--Sam and I are in the business of changing that." There was a long silence. **************************** Sam had another appointment with the fourth victim's father. It was in the next town over in Cayce, so he had some much needed time to clear his head. What didn't make sense in the medical report was that ammonia was basic, and sea water was neutral. It shouldn't have given them acid reflux. He would call back the families and get the victims physicians tomorrow afternoon on the way to the Methodist College. Although, maybe with the way he remembered college students' eating habits, the heartburn probably didn't have so much to do with the case, even though the acid reflux would make sense with the way the bodies appeared to be burned on the slides. Still, every aspect the case was still about as clear as the proverbial mud. "The docs gave Mulder some demorwhatsit for the pain a few minutes ago, so the kid is sleeping like a baby now." "Al! Could you just for once stop popping in like that?" "I'm sorry Sam, I'm thin air, remember? Holograms can't exactly knock!" "Any ideas from Mulder?" "Yeah, actually. He's got this thing for Dana." Sam, for some reason or another, wasn't surprised. "Thanks for the soap opera update, but I meant about the case, Al." "Oh! Oh, yeah...uh...he says if we can get the nozzle that knocked him off the road this morning, a one..." he punched in a few buttons on the handlink "...Alex Kry..." Al gave the side of the handlink a good whack "...cek...Alex Krycek...he and Scully can leave the FBI in peace." "That's wonderful, but that still doesn't tell me squat about the case that apparently I'm here to solve. That Krycek guy is dangerous...I can't put Scully's life at risk for Mulder's cause...least of all for his love life" "That's what Dana's done for the past seven years, Sam...at least for the cause part. I'm telling you, get Krycek." May 18, 2015 Roswell, NM; QLHDQRTRS It wasn't long before The Lonegunmen were able to crack the FBI database and get the files needed for Ziggy's mainframe. Much to Doggett's relief, they didn't slip anything about Scully's future...er past. To Doggett, things were mixed up more than the ballots in Florida fifteen years ago. "Scully, if things are alright here, I'm gonna head on back to D.C. Good luck with everything. I'll--uh--good luck." The phrase "see you back at the office" didn't seem to fit at that moment. If he understood everything Scully said, there was no telling the implications if Calivici and Becket succeeded in their leap. He might find himself not in the dingy basement office, but back in the NYPD. God--what would happen to Melissa? Would she even exist if they succeeded? "Thank you, Agent Doggett--for everything." "Just doin' my job Agent." He said a silent good-bye to her and followed the gunmen and Yves Harlowe out the door. It must have been only a few minutes later, Scully heard shots ring out in the door. Krycek was leading Doggett by gunpoint back into the project. Scully ducked under the computer console. Outwardly, no one could see her Victorian shell crack. It took her a moment to collect her senses. All she could say under her breath was "Oh, boy!" May 18, 2015 2:54pm Roswell, NM; PQLHDQRTRS Scully and Doggett were both veterans of hostage situations. The memory of Pfaster was still vividly etched on Scully's mind. Doggett could vaguely recall his first hostage situation with the X-Files involving Absalom. Scully and Doggett were both familiar with Krycek. They both knew how tricky and slippery he could be. Doggett thought he was like a fish who got the bait and swam away without being hooked. What made it different this time was that if Krycek messed anything up for Al or Sam, who knows what the reprocutions would be for all involved--down at the FBI in D.C., and at the project. "You don't wanna do this, Krycek." Doggett was saying in the calm, cool, steady tone that Scully thought he must have learned during FBI training from the section of the handbook entitled "How to Handle a Hostage Crisis." "What you do here could mess everything up for all of us." He was praying silently for Scully not to get up. "Why wouldn't I wanna do that--I got nothin' to loose. You got a bone to chew on, Dogbreath? 'Cause we're gonna be here a while." "Alex," Scully called as she rose slowly from her crouching position she was finding hard to hold under the computer console. She could not sit there hiding from Krycek forever. "What is it you want?" Kryceck cocked his pistol behind Doggett's ear. Doggett looked to Sam-who-was-Scully, part of him excited about seeing Luke again. Scully rushed at Krycek, giving Doggett an opportunity to get out of the way. Krycek poised the gun at Scully, and then slowly and deliberately pointed the gun at the screen up ahead, and fired at the image of Mulder's head. The profile of Mulder suddenly dissappated, and Scully managed to kick the gun from Krycek's grip. Doggett dove for it, and pointed it at him. "Dr. Beeks, is there rope anywhere around here?" Scully asked. "Scully, I don't think anyone would blame you if you shot the rat dead right here." "Go ahead, Agent Scully, I got nothin' to loose." was all Krycek could say. Scully decided with doctors present, the safest bet would be to make a clean shot in a place that wasn't fatal. She aimed for his left arm, and fired. Dr. Beeks and Goushie carried him into the waiting room. "Scully, thanks." She flashed him an acknowledging smile. "I-- uh--hope everthing works out." "Just doing my job, Agent Doggett." Doggett had to wonder if Scully meant protecting Mulder or protecting him. He liked to think it was for them both. He laid a firm hand on her shoulder and left the project with goodbye in his steps. May 18, 2001 6:14pm Hwy 229, SC Sam knew that it would only be a matter of time before Krycek would resurface. He sent Al to sit with Mulder. The interview in Cayce didn't shed any light on the x-file. He didn't even find any real evidence of the paranormal in this examination. He would need to wait until the autopsies tomorrow to get any real data on the situation. The medication the doctors gave Mulder would be working their spell at this point. Sam figured the best thing he could do for everyone involved would be to get some sleep. He just hoped no nightmares like he had had the night before would tear him from sleep again. May 19, 2001; 8:30am Newberry Motor Inn, Newberry SC The bed seemed to be pulling him back like a magnet as the alarm yanked Sam from sleep. It had been uninterupted, and he had to will himself in an upright position. He spent the routine replaying the case over and over in his mind. There *HAD* to be something he had missed. He felt a pang of guilt not being able to stop the events of the previous morning, but at least now Mulder couldn't be killed. If Al was right, then all he had to do was get Krycek, and then he could leap out--hopefully, this time, home. He had no idea how long it had been since he had been able to be himself. He would do autopsies on the victims now that the morgue would be open. After he could find what he could in the morgue, Sam decided the best thing to do at this point was to visit Mulder, give him the notes from the interviews, see if he could pinpoint anything that might shed some light on things. Sam was just about to open the door to leave when he heard a door open from the outside in Mulder's room. He tentatively grabbed Scully's gun, crept to the door and pushed it slightly open. He saw no one there. The only trace of human presence at all was a thin cigarrette propped ontop of an ashtray with smoke climbing lazily from it's red embers. Sam thought that it could have belonged to the maid, and pushed the nonevent out of his mind as he headed to the morgue. He would grab breakfast at the hospital. The coroner oozed southern gentility and was a little surprised to see Scully's dainty form in scrubs with scalpel poised. To him, it was as out of place as snow on a palm tree. Sam pointed the microphone down so he could speak into it. "Case file number G578893. Subject, male age 17. Newberry South Carolina. The body appears to be covered in 60% in acid burns. I am cleaning out the chest cavity. There appears to be a white substance." Once rotten-eggish whiff told Sam what it was. "that appears to be Sulfur." Still another base, Sam thought. It wasn't adding up. "The sulfur appears throughout the body. I am cleaning it out now." Sam took a brush and proceeded, and was very glad that Al wasn't around to complain about the grotesqueness of the situation. "Where the sulfur appears, there are signs of internal hemhoraging and on the epidermal surface, there appears to be signs of contusions and scar tissue. This internal hemmhoraging appears to be the cause of death." The other three bodies had much the same effects, and still the case was no closer to being solved. He thanked the coroner and left to the hospital to tell Mulder what he had found. Maybe there was something he could see that Sam couldn't. Sam thought that he smelled smoke again as he approached Mulder's room. It smelled exactly like the smoke that was in the hotel room. With a bagel in towe, Sam was hoping Mulder would be awake. All of a sudden, there was a throng of nurses buzzing into his room. Al popped in front of him, looking haggard and anxious. At what Al said next, Sam broke into a gallop. "The kid flatlined, Sam." May 19, 2001 Newberry, SC; Newberry Memorial Hospital A team of nurses got the shock paddles ready and Sam watched as Mulder's body jerked at the impact. "What happened Al? You were supposed to be with him! Where were you!" Sam was furious. He didn't care at this point if it looked like he was talking to thin air. He shook a threatening finger in Al's face. "If you left him for two seconds to check out a nurse--" "Sam--CALM DOWN!" Al was used to being Sam's punching bag. He understood Sam's desperation all too well. "You think I would let something happen to Mulder if I could help it? I didn't see anyone come in or leave." Al left the words hanging as though there were something more he needed to say. "I'm sorry, Al. I didn't mean to jump all over you like that..." "It's my fault. If he dies, it's my fault." Mulder's body jerked again as the paddles were applied for a second time. Al and Sam's eyes were both gripped onto the monitor through the glass. They were both praying silently. Al never prayed. "No...it's mine." Al said quietly. "I dozed off." The sigh Al released echoed the guilt in his tone. "I dunno for how long. I hadn't even realized I had until those nurses came in shouting. Sam, I'm sorry. I let you down. I let Dana down." Again, the paddles were applied, again the jerk. Again the silence. Again the mumbled prayers. Then, there was a beep, another beep, and the monitors began a steady, rhythmic drone. Everyone in that hospital room seemed to heave a collective sigh of relief. "It's not your fault, Al." "Yours either." Al took a puff of his cigar. They both went inside after the band of nurses and doctors all filed out. They both went in, glad to find Mulder awake. "Hey, guys" "You spooked us, kid." Mulder cracked a half-grin at Al's horrible pun. "Al--you can't say I haven't earned my nickname." He cracked a half grin. "You think I could be thinking I'm smelling your cigar? I could swear I smell tobacco smoke. It smells exactly like what was in Mulder's hotel room this morning." Sam thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye in the hallway through the glass. Al shook his head. "Who knows." "Smoke?" Mulder's expression changed from a puzzled to an angered one. Sam whipped around in horror at the man that seemed to come out of nowhere, reeking of the smell that had been in Mulder's hotel room and in the hallway earlier. "Talking to yourself, Agent Scully? Have you taken to imaginary friends now? It's understandable. You're going to loose your partner very soon." Sam whipped out Scully's gun. The elderly man before him had no expression on his face. The only indication that he was surprised at all by having a gun pointed at him was a single blink. The man chuckled softly to himself. "You wouldn't ruin your career over me, now, would you? You have no provocation to kill me." The man spoke in soft, soothing, arrogant tones, knowing he had already won the negotiation. Sam c*cked the gun, ready to fire. "My career's already ruined, isn't it?" "Sam, just blow the smoking sonuvab*tch's head off." Al suggested it as if he had suggested to turn on the lights. "What have you got to loose, Ms. Scully. Go ahead and kill me, then." The old man taunted. The elderly man took a defiant puff of his cigarette, and chuckled inwardly to himself as he noticed something about the woman pointing a gun at him. The life-blue of Scully's eyes showed no recognition of him at all. "You can't kill me, can you, Agent. Mulder, allow me to extend get-well wishes to you. The sooner you walk, the sooner I get to see you die." The man slowly walked out of the room, and seemed to be gone as undetected as he came. Sam tried to run after him in the hall, but he was nowhere to be found. "Who was that guy, Mulder?" "The bad guy." "No sh*t sherlock." "Seriously?" Sam was obviously flustered by the old man, and took a bite of his bagel, trying to shake the events that had just played out from his mind. "I smelled the same brand of cigarettes in your hotel room, and the same brand in the hall just before you went into cardiac arrest." "We don't know who he is, Sam. The only thing we know of him is one alias--C.B.G. Spender, and that he worked with my father. He had a hand in my sister's kidnapping. Look, you don't need to know who he is, anyway." "Mulder, if this guy threatened to kill you and we can get proof of it, we can prosecute and make him rot in prison." "Sam, I don't even know who he *IS.* I have been trying for seven years to find out, but the damage he has done and the truth he's covered up for who knows how long has been the work of more than just him. Don't you think I would've filed charges by now if I could have? Besides...my peglegs may be the answer to everything. The only way he'll leave Scully alone is if I'm off the x-files." "What are you saying, Mulder?" "If I can't walk, I can't be working in the FBI anymore. So, if I make sure I don't walk again, problem's solved." Sam and Al couldn't believe what they were hearing. A man who not 48 hours ago was willing to risk everything for his quest was now just giving up. It just wasn't making sense. Al was furious. "You can't just give up like that Mulder." "Why not, Sam?" Mulder's tone was ferocious, he couldn't even make eye contact with either of them. "Sam, how can you sit here and let him say that?! Do you have any idea what I have to face if I go back there and tell Scully we let her down?" "She'll be alive, Al." "Kid," Al's voice was slow, steady, but simmering with anger. "before, you were a bug up my ass. But now, I think you're just as big a jerk as the rest of 'em. Sam and I are putting our lives on the line. So has Dana Scully for the past seven years. I don't give a damn if you wanna feed your own ass to the sharks, but I cannot let you just give up like that! If you think for a minute I'm gonna go back there and tell Dana you're not going to be on the x-files when all this is over, you've got another thing coming." Sam flashed an incredulous glare at Al, knowing that reprimanding Mulder was not the way to get him to change his mind. "Fine, you think of a better way for Scully and me to get our lives to some sort of normalcy." "Mulder--the Truth is your life's work. Throw all that away, and what are you left with? Paralysis from the waste down? Believe me, Mulder, I know what it's like not to have a normal life. I barely have a memory of my life before I stepped into that time- machine. You could've taken the high road...but you didn't. Neither did I. I just somehow don't see you content grading papers." With that, Sam through the notes from the interview on the bed and stormed out before Mulder could say anything, Al had popped out, too. It wasn't long before Al popped in and walked alongside Sam, who was making his way out to the car. "I can't help him, Al. Not while he won't help himself." "You're not helping Mulder, you're helping Dana." Suddenly, Sam got an idea. Yes--it could work! She had convinced Al-- "Why can't we let Dana convince him he needs to fight back?" May 19, 2001 Roswell NM;PQLHDQRTRS The events of the preceding day had shaken Dana Scully to the core, for some reason or another, and for the life of her, she could not figure out why. Maybe it was because it was another hostage situation. The few that she had encountered over the years with Mulder had been traumatic for her, leaving nightmares years afterwards in their wake. After Agent Doggett left the project and the aftermath of the days events settled, Scully helped clean the wound she had inflicted on Krycek's good shoulder. She didn't feel at all guilty about the injury this time, though. Scully thought Krycek was lucky to still be alive. She was glad to see that Dr. Becket had the foresight to leave plans so that Ziggy could be rebuilt, and was glad that the technological advancements had allowed her to be back to normal working order within a few hours. With the peices of glass swept up, and the new screan rebuilt, Ziggy was back to her old self-- if that was what you could call what Ziggy had. She spent the rest of the day doing what research she could based on the information Al had sent via the handlink. It was a typical x-file. She wondered briefly what theory Mulder would be throwing at Sam, and all at once felt a strange sensation--half pity for Dr. Becket having to listen to those theories, and half a pang of regret for not being able to lash back with her usual scientific conclusions. She was going to wait up for Al, to see what progress they had made, but somewhere between the fourteenth cup of coffee and three am, she fell asleep on the couch in the waiting room. It must have been close to morning when she jolted up on the couch. She blinked her eyes several times, wondering for a second if she was dreaming. Mulder's tall form stood in front of her, dressed in his trenchcoat and suit, hazel eyes fixated on her in an oxymoronic contentedly tortured gaze. She got up and moved closer to her partner, but as soon as she got close enough to touch, he vanished. "I must be dreaming." She tried to convince herself. "I'm just over-tired and stressed. He wasn't just there...he didn't just vanish..." She glanced at the print-outs from Ziggy's mainframe again, but she couldn't convince herself that something wasn't incredibly wrong. Almost on cue, Al came in the waiting room, looking like something that was drug behind a pick-up truck for a while. "Dana, something's gone very wrong. I'm going to need you to come with me and talk some sense into Mulder." "I have been trying to talk sense into Mulder for seven years. Do you think for one minute he'd listen to what I have to say?" "If you don't, Mulder's going to quit the x-files. You know, Dana," Al was saying, "I think this is the weirdest leap we've ever had. This old guy came into Mulder's room, smoking a cigarrette and threatened you and Mulder. The docs say he'll be walking soon, but he's pretty much decided that if he can't walk, then Old Smokey will leave him alone." Suddenly, Scully remembered that Doggett saw her as Becket. "Do you think he will know that this is me, and not Sam?" "Oh yeah, he knows who Sam is now." Scenes from the morning before flashed in front of her, and she remembered going unnoticed. If she remembered correctly from her physics studies, holographs were not visible in certain dimensions. "Can Mulder see you and hear you?" "Unfortunately. Sometimes I wish I could turn him off. Honestly, how you put up with that guy for seven years I'll never understand." "So, let's break it down here. You've told me the situation here, and you've told Mulder who Sam is. You've brought in people from the outside... exactly what good are these set rules?" "Sam wrote the rules mostly so the bigwigs in the Senate would sponsor funding for the project, and also to insure that the project couldn't be corrupted. We've broken pretty much every rule in the book. The last time we broke this many cardinal rules of the project was for a serial killer. If we hadn't broken the rules though, I don't think Sam or Mulder would've lasted this long." "And here I thought Mulder was the maverick." she sighed resolutely "Careful, Dana, people will start thinking you're a rebel." "At least that means no more chances of comprimising situations for Dr. Becket." Scully said with a half-smile. Scully followed Al into the imaging chamber, hoping she would know what to say to change Mulder's mind. If he was gone, she knew she couldn't carry on Mulder's mission for the x-files. Al was the last person Mulder thought he'd see back in his hospital room. Sam had gone for interviews at the Methodist college, and he would probably be gone for most of the day. For just a second, he saw the cigar and wondered if Al wasn't part of the consortium with C.B.G. Spender. As hard-assed as Al was, instincts told him he was a good guy. "You still intent on quitting the FBI?" Mulder only nodded coolly. Mulder spent the day flipping the stations, not really paying attention to what was on. He was angry. Angry at Krycek for taking the Truth from him. Angry at Sam for taking Scully away from him. Angry at his sister for being abducted. Angry at his father for allowing that to happen, and for dying. Angry at his mother for the same reason. He had called Skinner from his hospital room earlier, intending to tell him nothing more than to expect his resignation in the mail by the end of the week. He had left the message with the secretary, Kimberly; thankfully he didn't have to hear Skinner's protests. "I don't need babysitting, Al. If Sam sent you to look after me, just tell him he's he one he should be worried about." Al punched a few buttons to check in on Sam. He was still on the road, so he figured he had a while. "I'm not here to babysit-- although I've known two-year-olds act a lot older. I thought you owed an explanation to your partner." Mulder knew he owed her a lot more than an explanation. Al's hand reached out next to him, and when he gripped the hand of a person next to him, suddenly, a man in a white cloth leotard appeared. The way the man held himself though, and the way the eyes met his had a familiar quiet strength and furry screamed Dana Scully. "What do you think about this case, Mulder?" "White spandex is a great new look for you, Scully." She arched her eyebrows. Mulder felt like a little kid who had been caught. He half heartedly filtered through the notes and the files. "I--uh--don't see an x-file here. Well...at least not in these folders." He gave Al a dirty look. Scully couldn't believe what she was hearing. This was only a shadow of the man she thought she knew. He wasn't even putting up a fight. She knew she needed to pull him out of it. "Do you have any hypothesis as to why those people are dead? Mulder, while I've been at the project complex, I've been following the case. I can't find a logical explanation for their deaths. I was looking at those files, wondering what wild theory you'd be feeding poor Dr. Becket--half jealous that I wasn't there to counter it with logic, and then watch as you proved me- - to everybody that they were wrong." "The truth hasn't set us free, Scully. It's trapped us." "You can't give up yet...not when we're so damn close to what we're looking for. The Fox Mulder *I* know doesn't give up that easily." "Scully...I can't just let everything around me crumble. The best answer I can come up with is to get out while we both can." "MULDER!" Scully suddenly exploded. Both Al and Mulder jumped. Al had a hard time keeping his grip on Scully. Scully and Mulder both seemed to be loosing their grips on their emotions. "GODDAMMIT MULDER, LISTEN TO ME! For once, in your life listen to reason. For once in our seven years as partners...PLEASE listen to me." Mulder turned off the television. "You told me a long time ago that I keep you honest. Mulder-- you-- keep me going." "Spender will kill us if we continue." Scully shook her head. She could tell by the way his facial expression softened, she was getting through to him. At least that's what she had to hope. "We've beat him before. We can beat him again. Please, Mulder...it's not over yet. I need justice for my sister. I need justice for Emily. I can't get that without our work on the x- files. I don't think I could continue the x-files without you. Not with the same spirit." "You know I want justice for everything they've destroyed. If I- -walk away--" he looked awkwardly down at his legs, not realizing the poigniancy of the expression "we both get out of this alive." "Al, I don't think there is any way I can get him to say. He's seemed to have made up his mind." "Scully, wait--" he started weakly, but she broke him off "Are you going to tell me what you really think is in that x- file?" Mulder remained silent. "When Fox Mulder comes back, let me know." In the hospital room of South Carolina in 2001, Mulder couldn't understand why Scully didn't see his way of thinking. But then again, Scully never did. Why should he expect different from her now. Goodbye just didn't seem right to say at that moment, so it was left unsaid. As so many other things were left unsaid to Scully. Mulder was grateful that it wasn't long after Al and Scully popped out that the nurse came to gave him another dose of painkillers. For once in his life, the needle the nurse used to administer the medication didn't phase him. "I've faced aliens, monsters, freaks of nature, and Scully very pissed off...why am I bothered so much by fire and needles?" This thought sent a lopsided grin across his face as the drugs took over consciousness. In the waiting room of the Quantum Leap Project in New Mexico in the year 2015, Scully's anger at Mulder still hadn't subsided. How could he just let their work go like that? How could he just leave her like that? All the times she had stuck by him...all the vigils she had kept by him...all the vigils he had kept beside her...gone up in smoke. Mulder just wasn't being--well--Mulder. Had this one setback made him a different person all together? A line from an old Tennyson poem she read in school a long time ago came back to her. "We are all that we have met." She was a woman in a male-dominated field; she was a woman who had battled cancer; she was a woman who suffered the losses of a sister and a daughter; She was every social interaction that had taken place--Dr. Waterson, and all the people she had encountered throughout her life. She had learned from them, and grew from them; thus becoming another person entirely from those interactions and exchanges. Each experience building on every other experience; every encounter building on every other encounter. She smiled to herself as she thought it was like those crystals Missy used to play with--they build and build, forming matter from matter. But most of who she had become since her involvement in the x-files- -indeed, most of who she had become in her entire life--was a part of Fox Mulder. Dana Scully was not going to sit down and just let him take away all they had worked so hard for. She could not allow that to happen. Al had gone to his apartment complex to get some much needed sleep while Sam conducted the interviews needed at the Methodist College. He and Sam had figured that the interviews would take the rest of the day, so Sam told Al to go back and get some rest. Al was glad for the break. He was at the point of "tired" when you're way beyond the fourth wind. Sleep didn't seem possible. He thought he needed to do *SOMETHING* to change Mulder's mind. He racked his brain until he couldn't concentrate anymore, figuring that after sleep, he could come up with something Sam was completely furious with Mulder, very thankfull that the excursion to the Methodist College allowed some time to clear his head. How could he just make his mind up to leave like that? He knew Mulder thought he was doing the noble thing--but who else was going to carry on the work? What would happen to Scully? He prayed that Scully would be able to make him see logic. Somehow, Sam couldn't help but think that logic missed Mulder's arena of thought completely. As open-minded and as intelligent as Mulder apparently was, he certainly was one- sided. It was midafternoon by the time he got to the campus. He had gone back to the parents of the children and gotten their physician's names, seeing if there was any link to their medical history that would shed any light on the case. He then went to Sherrif Hayward's office, who then gave Sam a composite of the girl and her information. A social security number told Sam that she would be in class. The campus itself was an odd mixture of contemporary office buildings and antebellum southern architecture, the Greek collumns and terricota bricks starkly contrasting the flat, mint-green stucco complexes. A blooming magnolia tree domineered the parking space, thankfully allowing shade. The streets were lined with a shade of green that was almost paridot with the recent onslaught of pollen. Blooms from wysteria, tulips, and dogwoods litered the slightly damp sidewalks. It was a small campus with none of the buildings being more than two stories tall. It was a beautiful day, the kind that was inviting, and the students were all milling about. This was the South, so asking a friendly stranger for directions wasn't a faux pas. The registrar's office was apparently a floor up from the class that she was just about to get out of. Sam sat outside her class. It was small, with only about ten students. The professor had drawn a rediculously sketchy map of Europe--waves of blue chalk representing the ocean, an oblong circle ontop of a boot in orange. "I wouldn't win on Win Loose or Draw." the class errupted in peels of laughter. The professor continued on his lecture about the reformation and its impact on Christianity, speeling information about what theorist thought what on the happenings. Sam wondered if the asbestos in the halls finally got to the professor. "And for next time, scholars," the professor chirpped, "chapter 5 and 6 from The Big Darn Book." The class all filed out, and Sam stopped the girl that looked like the one in the computer composite. "Miss? I'm with the FBI. Can you tell me about what happened over Spring Break?" The girl pretended not to notice Sam and broke into a run, tearing down the stairs. Before Sam could c*ck Scully's gun, she was lost in the crowd. Sam ran back to the registrar's office, and thankfully they gave him the room there. Sam took Scully's gun and shot open the door. The girl was in the room, her chest cavity petrified and hollowed like a log, covered in acid burns everywhere else. Sam knew Al well enough to know that he wouldn't be very far. He went into the restrooms down the hall, relieved to find that no one was in there. "Al! Al!" He hissed into the air. The bright blue light of the chamber door opened and Al blinked a couple of times and yawned, shaking his head. Sam felt a little guilty for shaking Al from sleep. "Wha--huh?" "The--girl! The only witness! I tried to catch her coming out of class, and I lost her in the crowd." "What happened?" "I dunno, Al." Sam was glad that for once Al wasn't making jokes about being in an all-girls' school, or in a bathroom. "I had gotten her room number earlier, and shot her lock off, and I found her body like the rest of the victims." "You think she knew something she wasn't supposed to?" "I seriously don't know. Maybe whoever--" "Whatever." Al insisted. "Whatever?" "I don't think what killed that girl was human, Sam. Dana doesn't think so, either. She says she's seen this sort of thing before--alien viruses. She's seen it in black oil. She thinks that this is the ocean variety." "But I don't get it Al? Why not just takeover? Why murder?" "Dana says that sometimes minds have a hard time being submissive to the virus. This girl musta been holding out." "Can you get Ziggy to get me the supervisor's number?" "Sam, you don't wanna do that. I know Kersch. Another Admiral pulled strings to get him that spot, and the man below him, a one Walter Skinner. Kersch is a horses ass. That nozzel will do everything in his power to pull the plug on the investigation. He was the one pushing to stop funding for Quantum Leap." "Al, how is it that Mulder and Scully have been in operation for seven years if their immediate boss is part of the conspiracy. I don't think this Skinner guy is gonna try and stop us." "No...not if you get proof that the conspiracy and alien takeover is a real threat." "So, basically, what you're saying, Al, is that all I've gotta do to leap is prove the existance of aliens." "You got it, kiddo. Show 'em E.T. And that's your ticket outta here." "Oh boy!" "Al, how am I supposed to prove something I don't even beleive yet." "What do you mean, *yet* Sam? You mean you're starting to?" "I can't ignore what I saw today. I can't ignore what I saw in Scully's flashbacks. I can't ignore what's happened to them." "Look, Sam...this goes all the way to the White House. I was left out of it because of my involvement with you, but a lot of my colleagues were roped in by this consortium called FEMA. They pretty much pulled rank so FEMA could have their thumbs under the FBI, CIA, and all the other alphabet soups in D.C. Get hard- iron proof alien existance, and you, me, Mulder, and Scully can blow these guys right into early retirement. It turns out, Senator Matheson--our Government Angel--helps the X-Files division, too." "And why couldn't you say anything about it, Al?" "Because--thanks to you, I'm already a considered a nutcase. I hold no credibility with them." "Exactly what does FEMA need to cover up?" "FEMA's not in existance anymore. They couldn't agree on what was right, and mostly killed each other off, as far as we know." "What *WERE* they trying to cover up, then?" "Alien colonization of the human race." Al wasn't kidding. "Al--what tabloid did you get *THAT* storyline out of?" "Why do you think Alex Krycek left Agent Mulder for dead?" "He was obviously close to something they didn't want--known..." "And what is it that Agent Mulder looks into that certain people might not want found out?" He whistled the Twilight Zone theme. "Alien colonization." Sam said dryly. "See what Ziggy can dig up on that girl. I'll...uh...do an autopsy once the coroner gets here, and make sure that the cause of death was the same as the others." Spartanburg was the county seat, so the FBI agents were local, and it didn't take long for Sam to explain to Agents Ortega and Morris on what had happened. Being gentlemen, they accepted what Sam had said in an icily polite manner that could only be described as Southern. Sam was glad he didn't have time to stick around much to hear them laughing at what he had said. The autopsy had take interminably long. It was close to nightfall before Sam finished. It was the same thing. The sulfur on petrified bone tissue with the sea-water chemicals. Sam still couldn't understand what the connection was with sulfur and aliens. After the autopsy was completed, Sam contacted the kid's physicians. Since Newberry was a small town, the physician was the same. They were all taking either celexa, lithium, or proxin--antideprecents. Sam was on his way back when Al appeared on the hood of the rental car. Lucky for Sam, the road was virtually empty, because when Al appeared, he slid over the road. "Can't you just pop in like a normal person for once?" "Normal people aren't holograms, Sam. I guess Goushie misfired when he tried to center me on you." "So whatchya got?" "The kids all have one thing in common: they all suffered from depression, mild dyslexia, and ADD. Dana thinks the reason they were killed has something to do with the fact that the way their brains misfired didn't let the alien virus soak in." "That makes sense...but still...I don't get the connection with the sulfur and the sea water." "Dana also said something about high sulfur contents being associated with sea water--whatever that means." "Sulfur is a conduit." Sam matter-of-facted "Conduwhat?" "Conduit. It's like a wire...what if the sulfur serves as a conduit for the virus?" "And the medications messed up the wiring?" "Exactly. Anyway--about all the FEMA business...I'm sorry all this stuff kept you out of it." "Sam...you don't understand...FEMA's a really bad group to get messed up in. They're worse than the KKK. I'd rather be a part of this any day." "Anyway...I must need sleep...this stuff is actually making sense. So, did you and Scully get Mulder to change his mind?" Al shook his head. "He thinks he's doing the only thing he can to help them both live in peace. Nothing Dana said got through to him. I popped in at the hospital, and he won't do any of the physical therapy, or anything." "He's the only one the FBI's got right now that will help us proove aliens exist." "Then if he won't--I've gotta find the solid proof." They had gotten to the hotel room. Al sailed through the door-- it was always unnerving, but after what Sam had seen today--it was almost normal. He didn't even notice that Al had frozen in his tracks. "Where the hell are we gonna get proof Al?" Sam was suddenly aware of someone in the room. "Maybe this will help." Alex Krycek stood there, holding a vile full of green goo. "What I can't figure out is why this guy wants to help Mulder." Al was standing there, obviously flustered by the man's appearance, his jaw dropped to his feet. "Why's that?" Al wasn't sure who the question was for--him or the man standing in the room. "Never mind the why's, Agent Scully." "Because this guy paid us a visit the project, and he wasn't selling encyclopedias. He's trouble Sam. His name is Alex Krycek" "Krycek!" Sam hissed, just remembering that this was the one who had tried to run Mulder off the road yesterday morning. "Something you wanted, Agent Scully?" "Yes, actually...I need proof." "For what, the attempted murder of Agent Mulder, proof of breaking and entering, or proof of..." "Careful, Sam. This rat may not be the best person to ask for proof about aliens. It would be like asking Hannibal over for dinner." At Sam's confused glance at the reference, Al gave him a dismissing shrug. "...little green men?" Krycek finished with an evil grin that sent a chill up both Sam's and Al's spine. "I want Spender to rot in hell. I need your help. I think you need mine. It looks like our Spooky's lost faith in his own cause...I think this green goo could do the trick." "I don't get it, Krycek...why did you leave him for dead two days ago only to help us now?" "I didn't mean for that accident to happen. It was just one of those mishaps. I can't help those rental cars having lousy handling." "That still doesn't answer my question." "It is true what I told Mulder. I need Spender dead. I've been his lacky ever since I got involved in FEMA, and I need to return the favor for sending me to prison. With Mulder laid up, you're the only one who can help me do that." "Why would you help me?" Sam, for one reason or another, didn't pull Scully's gun out. "I need Mulder back at the FBI as much as you do. I can use what he knows to get what I need." "What is it you need?" "Spender either dead or prison. I'd rather it be prison. With Spender dead, then I can take control over the FEMA. "How does that help Mulder and me?" "It keeps you alive." Al was shaking his head fervently. "Don't trust him, Sam. FEMA's been after Mulder and Scully ever since Scully got assigned to the x-files. They are bent on alien colonization. FEMA BAD, Sam!" "How do you figure? FEMA has been trying to kill us for seven years." "Once FEMA regroups, with Spender dead, I can Influence them to stop attacking you and Mulder." "That still doesn't add up, Krycek. Mulder and I are trying to put a stop to colonization. With you at the top of it, if colonization stops--that makes you in control of everything." "I don't want to be in control of FEMA. Help me, Agent Scully, and where FEMA's concerned, I can garauntee you and Mulder's safety. Help me out, and the x-files will be in charge of negotiations." "I don't believe you, Krycek." "Fine. Don't take me up on my offer. It's all in your hands, Agent." "What's in my hands?" Krycek folded his hands across his chest, and tilted his head up, a c*cky snort accompanied by a smug grin spread across his face--as if the answer was completely obvious to him. "You're partner's life." With that, Krycek walked out the door. "I'm gonna go back to the hospital and update him." He glanced at the clock that blinked 6:43pm. "I've got an hour before visiting hours are over." Sam got Scully's keys and left, and locked the door. Al walked through and disappeared, and reappeared in the car. "I'll go with you." Sam gave Al a questioning glance, "You don't need to be there with me for this. I thought you and Mulder got on each other's nerves." He started the car. "Yeah...well, I gotta give a report on how things are going with him to Dana. Besides...despite the fact that he's being a horses *ss right now, the kid's growing on me." "You know what they say about birds of a feather..." Sam ribbed. Then suddenly he sobered, and brushed a peice of stray auburn hair from Scully's face. "I can't let anything happen to them, Al. They're all they've got." "They've got us now, Sam." As annoying as Al was, he was someone Sam had come to depend on for encouragement. "How am I gonna stop that Krycek guy and Mr. Spender from killing them?" "We'll figure something. Maybe Mulder's got an idea." "Anything change?" Sam clung to the dim hope that maybe he had changed history by not accepting Krycek's offer. "Dana still gets killed, Sam." They pulled into the hospital parking lot, and approached Mulder's room, hoping that he wasn't asleep. Al disappeared and reappeared in Mulder's room with a few buttons. "How long have we had the technology for teleporting?" Mulder asked, half-joking. "Longer than you think, kid. Oil lobbiests wouldn't go for it, coz it would cost'em too much money in transportation losses. How's it going?" Mulder cracked a bitter grin at him. "Wanna beer and a hotdog, Al? I'll call a nurse to get a tube for ya. You can pull up a chair and chow down with me." "I'll stick to bad Project coffee and a great cigar any day, kid." "No technology to get good coffee yet?" "No matter what they do in technology, some things never change." "I guess not." Sam came in just then. He sometimes envied Al for being able to pop in and out. "We've got problems, Mulder." Suddenly Mulder's expression "What's wrong, Sam." "Krycek paid me a visit." Then he briefed Mulder on the rest of the story. "So, Mulder...do you still not believe that this is an x-file?" Sam demanded. A crooked grin spread across his face. "Usually, it's me asking that one. I--uh--definately think we've got something weird going on" "I don't think Krycek or Spender is going to let either you or Scully off that easy." Al was saying, "He'll probably hunt you down as soon as you leave the FBI. This time you'll have no way to defend yourself--or Scully." With a glance, he tossed the ball of conversation over to Sam. "Go ahead, Sam. Tell him what happened today." "I went to question the only live witness, and she ran off and was killed before I got to ask her anything." "By who?" "You mean what, Mulder. The thing that killed her wasn't human. She was found just like the rest of the bodies. She ran off, and I found her in her dormroom before it was too late." "So what do you think?" "E.T.'s in the seawater, kid." Al grinned "Look, they were just vacationing on a beach. All were taking antidepressants. You're a psychologist, Mulder...I don't have to tell you what happens to the brain in clinical depression." "What does that have to do with anything? "If the drinking water around the area had high contents fo sulfur, it could induse radio-active chemicals that were previously resistant. On prolonged exposure to the drugs, the mind-power that the aliens have could seep in, and since the ADD made the kids resistant to the mind-control, they were terminated." "Even if that was the case, there's no way to proove their existance." "Of course there is. Tell Skinner, he'll go for it." "Yeah, and then he'll put me in a straight-jacket. I've already been there and done that Sam. I'd really rather not be back in the psych ward." "Believe what you want, but the only way you can help me or Scully is by walking again." "I just wanna be left alone." Mulder insisted. And he really did. "Look, Gretta Garbo..." Al started. He was the only person Sam knew who could look intimidating holding a cigar wearing a bright teal suit with a red shirt. "The only way you're going to be left alone at all is if you fight that Krycek creep and the Smoking Schnozz. You are not going to just give this up. Not if Sam and I have anything to do with it. So what am I gonna go back and tell Dana? That she might as well prepare for the worst?" "It is NONE of your damn business!" Mulder almost-shouted. "Scully and Sam can take care of themselves. I can't walk out of here. It's out of my hands, Al." "That's up to you, kid." Al said and with a push of a few buttons, a bright blue light flashed and the chamber door was open, and Al was gone. Mulder, as much as I hate to admit it...Al's right. It's up to you." "Visiting hours are over, miss." Reminded a rather large and formidable looking nurse at the door. "I just hope she recognizes you when she comes back, Mulder." Sam said as he left Mulder alone to mope. Wallowing in self pity just wasn't his style--but neither was being forced into anything, either. He had always been his own man...no matter what. Now, circumstances out of his control were making it extremely hard to get out of the trap of self-pity. He thought of a movie he saw once on television within the last two days..."The Princess Bride." Yes...Mulder thought he was in his own little Pitt of Dispair. Soon, the pain killers the nurse administered just then thankfully took over his consciousness, and Mulder drifted to an uneasy sleep. At least it was a break from life without Scully. In the waiting room in New Mexico fifteen years in the future, Scully sat and listened to what Al was saying about the progress of the leap. She somehow wasn't surprised. Things like this had happened before in her career with the x-files. What she was surprised at though, was Mulder's apparent inability to believe that they needed to somehow get to the consortium. "Sam and I are doing all we can, Dana. Don't give up yet." "I don't intend to." And she didn't. She never had when it came to Mulder. "What would you do, if you were Sam and me?" She cracked a small smile. "Kick his *ss till his old self came back." "Somehow, Dana, I wouldn't doubt it. Any ideas on getting the consortium?" "We've been trying for seven years. The only way they could ever get to Mulder was through me." "And you still don't think he loves you?" "He might have earlier...but things are different now." "What's so different, Dana? He'll be good to go if someone can make him understand he needs to fight. Anger is not always negative." She looked thoughtful for a moment. Then an idea transpired, flooding her expression. "Can I pay him a visit with you tomorrow?" "I don't see why not. Why? What are you gonna say to him?" May 20, 2001; 7:45 Newberry Hotel; Newberry SC ***************************** Sam drug himself out of bed, nearly tearing the sockets out of the walls as he pawed around for the off button, and puttered about the hotel room, continuing what he could of a morning routine. He was very glad that Dana Scully did not wear that much make-up. Sam prayed for one of two things to happen that day: for Mulder to change his mind; or for some way to get the consortium. Al met him at the hospital that morning, but with better news. "Dana says that the only thing that can get to Mulder is her." "fascinated by that little tidbit as I am, Dear Abby, I don't think that helps us much." Sam quipped. "Someone's not a morning person!" Sam could only glare. "What if we tell Mulder what Scully's fate is if we don't succeed?" "It's against the rules." "Exactly how many rules have we broken this leap?" Sam sighed defeatedly. Al was right. They had broken pretty much every rule in the book, but that was the only thing they could do. They were almost at Mulder's room. Al popped in ahead of him. "Hey kid. How's it going." "Hey Al...want some green jello?" "They moved you to liquid. That's a good sign, Mulder." Sam said as he walked in." "Green jello Sam?" to which Sam shook his head. Mulder was obviously not happy about his first real food. "You wanna go back to Hot Dogs a la feeding tube, Mulder?" Mulder took a reluctant bite of the applesauce. "So whatchya got today, guys?" "Actually, Mulder, we've got some news." Al started, "Sam, why don't you tell him." he cued. "If you don't walk out of this hospital, Scully and I are in trouble." "Trouble?" "I was originally here to stop you from being killed." Sam answered nervously, and glanced at Al to finish the rest. "But that recycling job you did with your rental car Sunday morning changed things just a bit." Al continued, "Instead of you being in danger now, it's Scully." Mulder abruptly sunk back into his pillow, and the color in his face drained so he almost blended in with the sheets. "When is it supposed to happen?" Al punched in a few buttons to consult the handlink. "Still tomorrow. Estimated time of death was placed at around 4:30pm. Cause of death being a gunshot wound in the back of the head." Sam knew how that guy who invented TNT felt--reading his fate. At least the guy who invented TNT took his prize money and created the Nobel Peace Prize after he read his fate. "That means that Spender was bluffing." "That just means he was lying, Mulder." Al was saying. He probably didn't plan to kill you at all. "I think he fully intends to make you suffer for as long as possible." "I've made deals with him before to help Scully. It doesn't make sense that he'd kill her. He knows she's my trump card, so to speak." "I wouldn't put that on a Hallmark, Mulder." Al growled. "What about Krycek? He could have needed her dead." "No...Krycek only does things for his own agendas. The only way he'd kill Scully or me is if it helped him out, and I don't think we're in standing in his way on this case. I think it's someone else." "Who then?" "In the past, we've run into bounty hunters. What if the alien race the consortium was trying to colonize with found out she knew something with this case, and needed her dead." "Why not just convert her?" Al interjected. Mulder shook his head. "We dunno. She's already been abducted. If they wanted to change her body, they would have already. We don't understand a lot of their motives yet." "Yet?" Al echoed back sternly. "You back in the race now Mulder?" Al and Sam were both trying extremely hard--and not succeeding too well--to hide their relief. Mulder nodded. "Yeah, I guess I--uh--better call Skinner and tell him not to get Scully a new partner just yet." "You do that, Mulder. I'll update Scully." Al said, and with a push of a few buttons, the swish-and-click of the chamber door opening, Al was gone. "I'm gonna go back to the county morgue and see what I can find. Maybe there will be proof in the autopsies." Finally some light was being shed on the case. Mulder was finally coming to his senses. Sam left Mulder's hospital lighter on his feet than he had in days. The bounty-hunter would be an obstacle, but he knew how to fight if necessary. Being a part of something so huge--proving that aliens were real--made him remember when he first began steps toward the Quantum Leap Project. He remembered when Starbrite seemed huge to him...Quantum Leap was nothing compared to this discovery. He got to the morgue, put on scrubs, and almost whistled down the hallway to where the bodies were. Suddenly, almost as instantly as Al appeared was the figure of a girl--long brown hair, short, stalky figure--then he instantly remembered-- it was the girl from the Methodist College... only she was supposed to be dead in Spartanburg. Sam froze solid at the sight of her. This was not the frightened girl he saw earlier. She looked the same--but the expression in her face was gone. As she stepped forward, Sam realized that her eyes were dull...black almost. She moved forward, at a deceivingly fast pace. Sam found himself hypnotized for a few seconds. Very gingerly, as if the girl were an animal about to attack, he crouched down to get the ankle holster. He shot her in the shoulder--he didn't want to kill her if she was alive and human. Sam was completely baffled by the green ooze he saw seeping profusely from the wound. She was still walking toward him. He shot again, this time at her chest. She crumpled, but didn't fall. She got closer, finally, at a three-inch range, Sam fired one last desperate shot at her neck. She fell this time, green ooze falling everywhere. Sam approached the corpse cautiously-- not sure that the woman would be springing up at him. She--it-- whatever that was--was definately expired. Sam got a bit of the goo in a test tube, which was beginning to burn his eyes, and Sam grabbed some of the lab's goggles. This was all the proof they needed. Yep, looked like in just a few minutes, he would leap--maybe even home this time. So why was he still here? He shook the question out of his head, as he took the vile of goo to the lab, and ran tests on it. It was absolutely incredible. Three strands of DNA. Extra types of cells, apparently as an extra line of defense against diseases--this one that faught viral infections. This species was clearly more advanced in the evolutionary scale. "Al!! Al!?" He yelled into the air. In a few seconds, Al was there. "The girl!" "Ooooh! The girl?! What girl?!" "That one." Sam said, pointing to the ground. "The one that was *DEAD* yesterday." "Yikes!" Al sounded to Sam like something out of a comic book. "Al--the only way I was able to stop her was with the shoulder, and look at this--a third DNA strand, extra defense cells, regeneration properties..." "In english please, professor?" "The only thing on earth known to regenerate that fast is the starfish." "So you think the sulfur deposites and the starfish are connected somehow?" "Finally, Al, all those b-movies paid off." Sam was practically beaming with the news. He could barely keep from dancing. "Look, Al!" He shouted, holding up the vile. "$.99 special at Toys-R-Us." "No, no...it came from her." "No kiddin'?" Sam nodded. "So why am I still here?" Al punched a few buttons in the handlink. Being a part of Quantum Leap and being in Vietnam, he had seen a lot--but nothing as disturbing as the sight on the lab floor. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the corpse where the green ooze was apparently--for want of a better term--clotting. "Apparently, Dana Scully's body is still found three days from now, time of death tomorrow approximately at 4:30. I don't see a gun around anywhere except for Dana's 385. Did the girl use a gun to attack you?" "No...no...she didn't. She was going to use her hands." Sam's thoughts were still going two thousand miles a minute trying to peice everything together--all the implications, possible consequences--of what was found. "How civil of her." Al deadpanned. "Somehow, I don't think aliens are worried about being civilized. I think her host was trying to use the most proficient way whatever-it-was knew how. Why do you think the aliens targetted Scully?" "I dunno..." His eyes were bouncing between what Sam was working on with the goo and the corpse on the floor. He never had been blessed with a very strong stomach. How he made it through the grotesqueness of the Vietnam War with sanity intact was completely beyond him. Sam's thoughts were going faster than his hands could write them. Corrosive, regenerative properties, very acidic, high hydrogen mass. He remember reading reports how the star of Vega had the same properties as the sun. He wondered briefly if that was where this creature came from. It was a long time before either of them spoke. Sam finally broke the awed silence that fogged the air almost tangibly. "If she didn't kill me just now, then that must have changed history. Did Dana say anything to you about being attacked by the dead girl?" "She said she'd run into things like that in her career before, she wasn't surprised, but she didn't say that that was a part of the original history. Something you did must have changed history, Sam." "My God Al! She must have lived earlier." "No, she was one of the dead with the four kids." Al said with a few buttons in the handlink. He hated it when Sam beat himself up mentally with guilt. Sam just didn't understand that some things were not within his power. Al thought Mulder had the same problem. "What did I change then? And who is after Scully?" "Maybe the aliens know that you're not Scully." "How's that possible? They were after who they thought was Scully, not me!" "Sam, they abducted Dana three years ago--isn't it possible that they had the technology to get her DNA? If they are a more advanced species like you're saying, then they probably have better equipment more accurate than ours, and would know that Scully wasn't who she appeared to be on sight." "Al--I still don't get how that's possible." "If Cher can win an Emmy, and Madonna can have a hit movie, then why can't aliens have the ability to detect DNA?" "Alright--if they know I'm not Scully, then why do I get shot tomorrow and not strangled?" "I dunno, Sam. I know Mulder doesn't think so, but my money's on Smokey." "What makes you think it's the Smoking Man, Al? Why can't it be Krycek?" "If Krycek wanted to kill Scully earlier, he would have. Like Mulder said earlier, he has no motive to kill Scully." "That still doesn't make sense, Al--Smoking Man doesn't have a motive to kill Scully, either." "I don't do I?" Came an arrogant, cracked voice from the doorway. "Talking to yourself, again, Agent Scully? Some of your partner's influence creeping in, no doubt." The old man expressionlessly took another puff of his cigarette. "I--uh--do that sometimes...helps me straighten thoughts out sometimes." He stood across from him face to face. Sam eyed the gun that was lying on the examination table. There was certainly something threatening about the man, but he hadn't attacked. There as nothing he could do. The old man noticed something different around the eyes. There was none of the resentment or anger--only sadness. The eyes seemed--older--somehow. As though they belonged to someone who had experienced more. He took a puff of his ciagarette--more certain now than ever that this was not Dana Scully. "There's something *different* about you these past few days, Agent. You look--older...more experienced--something about the eyes. The other day when I paid Agent Mulder a visit, I didn't see any recognition behind the eyes whatsoever. You didn't know who I was." "You're imagining things." Sam hoped that the stale way he said that didn't hide how completely terrified he was. "You're talking to people who don't exist, and I'm the one imagining things? Agent Scully, you used to be so intelligent...so promising before you got involved in the x- files." "I was talking to myself--no one's here except me and you." "Be as it may, I came by to offer some of the promise you had before joining the x-files. Think of it, Agent Scully. Can you even remember when you were respected by your own peers?" "My partner respects me. My boss respects me. My family respects me. That's all that counts, isn't it?" "Give me those notes, Agent Scully, hand over the vile, and I'll make sure the x-files office gets the credibility back that it deserves."I tried to gie you a chance. I always thought that you were leagues above your partner. You are really above all this science fiction. Agent, the vile, please. And all the notes." Sam lunged at him, but he backed off when a tall man with olive skin and dark hair and a gun emerged at the door. "Just give him the research, Sam." Al suggested. "We'll catch up with him later." Sam defeatedly handed the legal pad laced with scribblings and the vile of green goo over to the old man, who then handed it to the man with the gun. They waited for a minute, to make sure they were gone. Sam grabbed the gun from the examination table, mentally kicking himself for not grabbing it and using it when he had the chance. "Go SAM! I'll go center on Smokey and give you his location. We'll get the proof back, and put Smokey and his lacky in his place, and then you'll be outta here." Sam raced out the door, keys in hand. He figured the best bet was the heaviest traffic, so he headed for I-85. Al popped back seconds later to tell him he had guessed accurately. "He's about five miles ahead, Sam, about to head on the overpass. Sam slammed his foot on the gas petal, praying nobody's lives would be a casualty of this chase. He pulled out his cellphone, and called Sherrif Hayward for back-up. He sped along, a couple of cars behind a black sedan with tinted windows so that he couldn't see what was inside. A butt flew out the window from the back passenger side...he had to wonder... "That's him ahead, Sam. In the black sedan with the Maryland plates." Al urged, almost as if he could tell what guess Sam was making. "Just stay on his tail, and we should catch up with him." Shots rang out, and a bullet spiderwebbed the windshield. A semi passed in front of them as they went on the overpass. The sedan slammed on its breaks. The semi fishtailed, spinning in a half circle, sending the sedan over the gaurdrail. In a split second, the sedan burst into flames onto the grassy meridian below. Sam felt like he had just lost a lifetime of work in that car. The rush of adrenaline was gone, but he went to check on the truckdriver, who was thankfully in better condition than the back of his truck, which was slammed up against the gaurdrail and crunch together with the apparent ease of an aluminum can under a foot. He crawled out of the cabin, and escaped with minor bruises. "I let them down, Al." Sam almost-whispered, and prepared to leap. He didn't want to accept defeat, but if his mission was to stop Scully from being killed, and that old man with the cigarette was her killer, then he should get ready to move on. "There was no way we could've stopped this from happening. With Smokey out of the picture, maybe they can finally live normal lives." "The evidence--Al...I let the evidence just get destroyed...no one will ever know what we found." "That's nothing new, Sam. No one knows time-machines are real except for Scully and Mulder, me and you, the rest of those people working on the project, and Him." He pointed his cigar upward. "Maybe it's just information that's not meant to be found. Besides, if you *DID* find the evidence, who would you take it to? You'd be put in a straight jacket before you could say that they were gray and not green." Sam left Scully's card with the driver, saying if there were any problems later. He waited with the man until Sherrif Hayward rolled up, and explained what had happened. Al punched a few numbers into the handlink. He just couldn't believe that this was all over. Maybe he just didn't want to believe it. "Let's see...the driver and Spender both have no more records on them. But, apparently, there was nothing on Spender before all this, so that doesn't mean much." No sooner had Al put the calculater-sized handlink back in the pocket where it resided did it make a beeping sound. Al whipped it back out and his eyes widened at the data that trafficked across the screen. "According to Ziggy, both Dana and Mulder are killed tomorrow. Mulder's death is ruled as a medical accident, and Dana's killer is never found. Their boss, A.D. Walter Skinner tried to keep the case open, but that horses *ss Kersch pushed for his early retirement, and closed the case as soon as he picked up his last chest. You're not out of this yet, Sam." Sam raked his hands down his face and rubbed the back of his neck, as if the motion would squease out some sort of solution. He felt something funny at the base of the spine. It was small-- like shrapnel. "Al?" "Yeah, Sam?" "Did Scully say she got shot in the spine at one point?" "No--why?" "Just a weird bump back there, is all." "I wouldn't worry, Sam. Probably just an old wound." "Do you think you can get Dana back here? "I don't see why not. She and Mulder could probably come up with an idea of who might be behind all this. Besides, I need to tell her that Mulder's turned around." "Alright, I'll meet you at the hospital in a few minutes." With a swish and a click, the bright blue of the chamber door was open, and with one fell swoop, closed, and Al was gone. Sam left in the rental car to update Mulder. Scully was glancing over more file reports. Yes, it had to have something to do with the sea-water. Were starfish the first attempt at alien/human hybrids? They are, for as much as biologists are concerned, an enigma. They are the only ones in their classes. If any place on earth could hide alien life form, it could be the seawater. So little is known about what is down in the depths. So little territory unexplored. Her brother Bill had often wondered why people didn't try to find the secrets of the ocean before they tried to find more about outter space. The Mulderesque thought that had just invaded her stream of consciousness abaded her for a split second. She shook her head and grinned at how much exactly Mulder had influenced her. If her colleagues at Quantico ever heard a statement like that coming from her mouth, she'd be laughed right out into unemployment. If he was no longer a part of their work... She forced that thought out of her mind as she glanced for what must have been the thousandth time over the notes. After all, Mulder seemed to be taking the self-pity trips enough for the both of them. Where was Al? Hadn't he promised her a visit with Mulder? Suddenly Al appeared in the waiting room door. "Sorry it took so long, Dana. A lot's happened this morning." The anxious expression told him to continue. She stood thoughtful, accepting and expressionless as Al tried to rattle off the events of what had happened. "So the Smoking Man's dead?" she wanted to believe it, but somehow didn't think she could. "We dunno for sure, Dana. We didn't see anyone get out of the car before it blew up, but that doesn't mean that he didn't escape alive somehow." "I think he would find a way out somehow. The only one I've ever known with more tenacity than Mulder is Spender." "Anyway...I'm sorry I didn't get you this morning. Come with me. We've all got some things to work out. We need you in on our discussion about what the deal is. And Mulder's turned around." Scully didn't let the relief that washed over her show on her face. She followed Al into the imaging chamber, and stood in hospital-light brightness for a second. Mulder and Sam were in the waiting room, Sam meticulously checking every monitor Mulder was hooked up to. He was sitting up now, and glad that the doctors thought that observation was only necessary for another day. The physical therapist said earlier that morning that he was making better than normal progress and should be walking within a day with the help of a cane. With the swish like the sound of a heavy gate, a rectangular shape of electric-blue light opened, and Al appeared. He put the handlink in his pocket, and held out his hand. Scully took it, appearing in the tall dark-haired form of Sam in a white stretched suit that covered the body. Again, just as before, something about the man's countenance--the stoic, fiery, and comforting all at once bespoke in his stance--gave away isntantly the fact that it was Scully. "So you decided to join the living, Mulder?" She said with eyebrow aptly arched. "Hey Scully. Yeah...I thought about it, and as attractive as bondage sounds--it wouldn't do to have my favorite muscle paralyzed." He leered. Scully and Sam both shook their heads in defeat. They were both a little astounded by the similarities of each other. "What did I tell ya, Al? Don't you think they'd make a great couple?" The other three occupants of the room suppressed a groan of dismay. "How did you ever figure out that Sam wasn't me?" demanded Scully with a knowing half-grin spreading across her face. "That's easy. He was talking about you in second person. That, and Sam doesn't have your glare quite down. He doesn't nag me nearly as much either. Can I keep him?" He teased. "Careful Mulder, or I might just stay here with Al. I like it here in the future. White spandex is EXTREMELY comfortable." He flashed her a smile that he hoped told her exactly how glad he was that she was back with him. "So--uh--what do you think, Scully?" Al and Sam exchanged knowing glances as Mulder and Scully exchanged banter. Maybe there was just one more thing Sam was here to do than help them from getting killed after all that Ziggy forgot to mention, or that Scully was willing to admit. "Definately looks like we've got an x-file here. I think aliens are responsible here from what I've seen of the reports. We don't have any proof though." Mulder stood jaw-dropped in disbelief. He could not believe that those were words coming out of Scully's mouth. She glanced at Sam to cue him in on what had happened to the evidence. "We'll get more proof, Mulder." He said after he had fin-ished. "They will attack again, and then we'll get the evidence we need again." His tone tinged with guilt at the thought of someone else having to loose everything that made them human all in the name of evidence. "Close your mouth, Mulder. We don't need a throat culture." "Gee, Scully--I oughtta let you get out more often. Is that all I hadda do to make you see my side of things?" "I could think like you if necessary Mulder, but it gives me a headache." She flashed him a wry smile showing him exactly how glad she was to be his partner again. They all sat silent and thoughtful for a moment. In an instant, Mulder's expression turned to one of determination. "What if we give them bait to attack again?" Wanna go fishing for little gray men, Sam?" "I always thought they were green." was all Sam could say. "I thought they knew Sam wasn't me already, Mulder." Scully started. "I don't mean Sam, I meant use me as the bait." "Mulder, that has got to be the stupidest idea you've gotten this whole d*mn leap! And Sam, you're gonna go through with it? I thought you had better sense than that!" Al interjected before Sam could respond. "He's right, Mulder...this is absolutely crazy!" Scully protested. "You will barely be out of the hospital--barely be walking with the help of a cane, and you expect to be able to fight when you need to? Have the sedatives gone to your head? Because that's the only explanation I can possibly come up with for you to cook up something so completely idiotic!" "The only way we're going to beat Krycek or what's left of the consortium at their own game is by getting them to come to us. Right now, we've got no leverage." "Scully, Al...as much as I hate to admit it, he's right." Sam said with a defeated sigh. "Have you two got any better ideas?" "I can't let you put yourself in that kind of position. It's too d*mn risky." "I won't be far away if something happens. I want to get Krycek as much as you two. We'll get proof this time, and keep it, if I've got anything to do with it." "I'm sorry, Scully...but I don't see another way out of this." "Alright." Her free hand raked her hair, and tapped the tips of her fingernails against her forehead. "I know, I'm going to kick myself later for asking this...but what have you got in mind?" "We'll come up with something. Anybody got any ideas?" "You were going to be bait without a plan." Scully reprimanded. "Well...I didn't think anyone would buy the idea." Mulder admitted. "The morgue, Mulder." Sam thought outloud. "They'll be at the morgue with the rest of the victims." "How do you know, Sam?" Scully demanded. "They'll be back for the other victims, won't they?" "I hate to burst your bubble, but those victims are dead." Al answered. "So was that girl." Al had to agree with Sam on that. "So, we'll wait at the morgue tomorrow." "Mulder. You are absolutely crazy." Scully said wistfully. "Yeah...I know." Mulder answered, half-grinning. Al and Sam both got the feeling not for the first time in that room between those two that more was being expressed than what was being said. "Mulder, I still say this is a rotten idea." was Al's last feeble attempt at protesting. Mulder and Sam were both wondering if it was just their imaginations that made Al and Scully both looking paler--almost ghostlike. If it weren't for Al's peakockish attire, they both would've thought they were sickly looking. "Just a couple more minutes, Goushie!" Al hollered behind him. "Scooby gang, we better say g'bye here. Ziggy's running outta power, and I don't wanna risk loosing energy for the rest of the leap." "Tomorrow, you'll be making me listen to something besides Elvis in the car on the way home and yelling at me to slow down." "I'm counting on it, Mulder." Scully said, and with a few punch of the buttons, Al and Scully were gone. "They didn't look to good? You sure they're alright in that machine?" "It's an imaging chamber, Mulder" Sam corrected "...and they're fine. The drained power source makes them look dimmed to us." He tried to reassure Mulder, but knew it was useless, so he decided to change the subject. "So you're an Elvis fan too, huh?" Al popped back into the hospital room just then, looking much healthier. "You might be interested to know Sammyboy here got him started." Mulder snorted incredulously. "It's true! He lept into Elvis before he got started, and Heartbreak Hotel came this close to being recorded by The Monkeys." "Sam, Al--you're both nice guys...but I think you're just a taaaad delusional." "Sam! Can you believe this guy!" Al objected. "Look who's callin' who delusional?! You aren't exactly Reality Boy yourself, kid." Mulder sighed resignedly. He was going to miss having them around soon, but he couldn't wait to have his partner by his side again. Without even knowing what was happening, he had changed completely in the seven years of their partnership--had evolved into a completely new person, as much as he had tried to stop the process, become more whole and complete than he had ever felt in his life. Mulder was completely lost in thought when Sam's voice suddenly broke the thoughtful silence. "Mulder, I think I've got an idea." Before Sam could say anything, the nurse came in to check vitals and set the dinner tray. "You think we can use the hospital food as bait?" Mulder quipped. "I'm sure we can carve this roll into a pistol or something." He said, rapping it on the tray. "Maybe we can use it like a frisbee and knock E.T. out with it." "That's not a bad idea, kid. Maybe that gravy can be used as a decoy or something." Al chuckled. "Al, don't encourage him." Sam reprimanded. "I'm serious...I think I know how we can trap them." Al's and Mulder's eyes all turned to Sam, expressions waiting for the answer. "Well?" They chorused. "How'd you like to take a trip with me to the morgue, Mulder?" "Under normal circumstances, Sam, I'd say that wouldn't be my ideal place for a date...but if it gets Scully back...then I'm all for it." "Sam...this is the craziest idea you've ever come up with! One leap, and Spooky's rubbing off on ya. I'll only go with this under one condition, Mulder." Al interjected. "That you tell her how you feel after all this is over." "Al--" Mulder grumbled like a schoolboy being teased about a girl. Sam, inspite of himself, couldn't help but notice the way Mulder and Scully interacted with eachother, and felt like he needed to help them sort things out. Maybe he would leave Scully a message in his entry to her tonight on her e-log, and flashed Al a cautionary look. "Visit hours..." the same formidable nurse that came the last time was standing at the door. "...are over, I know...I know...I'm going." Then he turned to Mulder. "I'll see ya tomorrow, Mulder. We'll work out the details in the morning." "G'night Sa--Scully," Mulder caught himself. Then turned on the T.V. till the benadryl the nurse just gave him took over for the night. May 21, 2001; 6:45AM Newberry Motor Inn, Newberry SC Sam jolted out of bed at the sound of the alarm. He went about his morning routine, going back and forth through the plan worked out, making sure everything was going to work. Mulder would be checked out of the hospital in a little more than a couple of house, and soon, they'd go to the morgue to set the trap. In the days that Sam had spent in Scully's life, he undertsood how she got so drawn into his quest, because now he was driven by his search for truth just as she was. He understood how Mulder felt, always searching for something so elusive. He understood how Scully felt, too...using logic and science to try and gain a stronghold in an oxymoron of a sort of controlled chaos. He wished he could help them more. It would be nice to chase after monsters and aliens and the truth for a change instead of being tossed around in someone else's form like a pinball from life to life, remembering bits and peices of life before he stepped into the time machine like parts of a bad nightmare. Maybe after this, he could be content to leap home. He typed a last goodbye message to Scully, figuring he would probably leap after the trap was set and the information retrieved. He recounted everything that had happened, thanking her for the help she had given them all over the past few days, wishing her luck. Before he stepped into the time machine, he probably never would have even considered meddling in other people's lives, but he felt he owed Dana Scully a revelation for the one she gave him. "I know coming from a virtually complete stranger, this is going to sound strange, but letting the walls down doesn't necessarily mean you'll cave in. Ask Mulder up front how he feels. I don't think you'll be disappointed by his answer." Sam packed Scully's things back into the suitcase, and headed out to the car, and drove to the hospital. It was going to work. It had to work. **************************************************************** Roswell, NM. Area 51; PQLHDQRTRS May 21, 7:30am *************** Al and Scully sat in the waiting room, waiting for word from Sam. They knew it wouldn't be long for now. "Dana, I know this hasn't been easy for you, but I don't think we would've gotten through this leap without your help. Thank you." Scully only nodded nervously. Her blue eyes red and darkened by sleeplessness. "What's going to happen if Sam doesn't succeed?" "We dunno yet. Nothing like that's ever happened. I am sure he and Mulder will follow through with the plan and you'll leap back home, and everything will be back to normal." He tried to reassure her. "How can you stand it?" "Stand what?" "This waiting? How can you just sit by and be a casual observer with all that happens? And not be able to *DO* anything about it?" "Casual observers? All of us here put our lives on the line just like you do. I make sure they're not alone out there. I think that's sometimes more than a lot of people get in the normal world." In the few days Scully had spent with Al, as infuriating and crass as Al was at times, he had already proven to be someone Scully could trust, and there weren't many people in the universe she *did* trust. She was really going to miss Al, but she needed to be back with Mulder. She needed to be chasing after him chasing monsters and aliens, keeping him honest. Being rent from him and his quest over these past few days made her realize just how lost she was without him--like yin without a yang--unbalanced. "Scully, Goushie says Sam's ready to check Mulder out of the hospital, so I'm gonna go." "You gonna be ok?" She didn't want to leave Al alone, either. "Yeah, I'm always ok, Dana. Just sit tight, and before you know it, you'll be back home and all of this will be over--you won't even remember any of it." "I won't see you again, will I?" "I hope not, Dana. I sure hope not." He said, and waved goodbye, and left the waiting room, heading into the imaging chamber. **************************************************************** May 21, 2001 9:30am Newberry Memorial Hospital Parkinglot, Newberry, SC ************************************** With a click and sweep, the blue light of the chamber door closed, and Al, adorned in an unusually somber blue suit with a cranberry red silk shirt appeared with cigar in hand. "You ready kid?" He hoped Sam's plan would work. Mulder nodded, and a nurse escorted him with a wheelchair out of the hospital. He refused to let Sam help him into the car. "I'm supposed to be chasing after little gray men in a few minutes. How the hell can I be expected to run if I can't even get into the car by myself." Without warning, Mulder felt cold steal behind his ear. The gun c*cked behind his ear sounded to him like fireworks. "Just drive, Agent Scully." Growled Krycek from the backseat. "Drive or you'll hafta make an extra trip to the morgue." Sam started driving, and then gave Mulder a warning look. "Get ready, to take the wheel, or duck, or both, Sam's about to be up to something." Without a word, Sam grabbed Krycek's wrist, shots rang out as Sam tried to point the gun at the roof of the car. Sam was pressing full force with the gas petal. Mulder steered the car onto the bypass, but the car swerved violently as the shots rang out. Blood spattered on the back window. Neither Sam nor Al could tell who the blood came from. Once they hit the offramp, Krycek let Sam get the gun, who made one last attempt to shoot at him as he bailed out of the left window. Sam took over the wheel as the car steadied itself. He averted a concerned glance over in Mulder's direction as he raced in the direction of the morgue. "Mulder, you ok?" Al demanded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just got grazed a little bit." "Thank God!" Sam grumbled under his breath, and headed at normal speed on his way to the morgue. Then louder, directed to Al, he asked, "Krycek ok?" "We're getting nadda on this guy, Sam. All of his records must have been swiped or something. Not even a birth date or social or anything like that. Just drive, we'll bag E.T., and you'll leap. Got that gravy ready, kid?" Al quipped. Mulder flashed him a dirty look. "This is it." Sam said a few minutes later as Sam pulled into the parking lot of the morgue. "Mulder, you know what to do. After this is all over, Scully will be Scully again." "What'll happen to you and Al?" "One of two things," Sam let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in. "I'll either leap home or change souls with someone else again." Scully, the boys, and Skinner were the only three people he trusted with his life. It was nice to have two more people on his side. Mulder understood what it was like to hope for and chase after something so evasive. "When you get back home, if you ever find yourself in D.C., look me up." "Mulder, if you give Sam Dana Scully's phone number, you're the biggest schnozz I've ever met!" Was Al's quick reply. "Don't worry, Al...she's sorta spoken for." "Well...good luck, Mulder." Sam said, getting out of the car. "You too, Sam." Mulder said, wincing from the glaze of the bullett as he climbed out of the car, putting all of his support on his cane. Mulder and Sam both moved into their positions and waited. Mulder stood as long as he could before he decided to take a seat on one of the stools and waited. Lying in the hospital bed for the past few days had made him weaker than normal, and standing for long amounts of time was a bigger effort than it usually would be. Sam was waiting, with a lab-coat closet opened with just a crack, crouched into position. He was hoping that everything was going to work as planned. He hoped, for Mulder and Scully's sake, that they wouldn't need the Project's assistance again. "Just sit tight, Sam." Al prompted. "Get ready to take out E.T., then get ready to leap." What seemed like hours passed in the morgue, as still and silent as the dead people in there. Al was getting a bit jumpy, as he always did around dead people. Mulder thought he saw one of the sheets from the morgue move, and his eyes averted a signaling glance to Al, cueing him that something was about to happen. "Sam, this is it. Get ready!" Al shouted. "Quiet Al! They'll go after you if they here ya." Mulder hissed. "I'm a hologram, kid. They won't go after me." Al assured. "Just be careful!" Mulder mentally kicked himself for having forgotten, struggled up on his feet, and waited for the sheet to fall all the way off as the victim's body...a young man with Mulder and Sam's build this time... robotically rose from the table. Mulder really hoped for Sam's sake that this time, he would leap all the way back. "Now!" Al shouted. Sam came emerged from the other side of the door, aiming for the neck. He hoped he had hit the target. No such luck. The bullet glazed the ear of the victim's body. Green ooze seaped from the wound, stinging Sam's eyes as the monster moved closer and closer. He shot again, this time the bullett shot home. Al was gone. Mulder wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he saw blue light surround Scully's form. Mulder tried to convince himself. Scully stood there, very disoriented, trying to figure out exactly how it came to be that she was standing over the corpse with a gun in her hand, and green goo oozing on the floor, getting on her black pumps. She looked down to see several indescriminate runs in her pantyhose. She wondered, and then looked up at Mulder, still pointing the gun down at the form of the corpse. It took her a few minutes to realize that she was even holding a gun. "Mulder? What--is going..." She averted a questioning glance at the dried blood that was now nicely clotting on Mulder's forehead, and her eyes grew even wider as she wondered about the cane that was with him. Not for the first time in her life, she seemed to be missing time. "I feel like I've missed something, somehow." She puzzled. Mulder walked up to her with the help of his cane. "Scully?" He studied her for quite some time, trying to make sure she was really Scully. "What Mulder?" "Just take this and fill it with the green stuff." He said, handing her a vile he found on a rack of test tubes. "You act like you haven't seen me in days! Mulder...what is going *on* with you!" "I'll explain on the flight back home." FINI. **Epilogue** May 25, 2001 9:34pm Georgetown, Dana Scully's Residence ********** Scully sat wide-eyed reading the five new entries in her e-log. She thought the story Mulder made up over the flight a few days ago was just something he had made up just to ease her nerves for the flight. She thought she remembered some guy in a clownsuit. Clownsuit? That couldn't be right...after Oregon, she was definately taking a vacation. She lazily tossed the dime-penny a couple of times. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. Her tickets to the Bellefleur airport having just been tucked into her overnight bag, she decided to head over to Mulder's apartment. Mulder had called sounding oddly nervous. <"Breaking down walls doesn't necessarily mean caving in"> The words of the entry she didn't remember writing came floating through her inner- monologue as she made her way down the hallway. A knock on his door told him that Scully was there. Maybe he would take Scully on vacation after Bellefluer was overwith. Maybe telling her about what the doctor had said in the hospital a few days ago would be easier for both of them to take if they were away from the ratrace of Washington. "Hey, Scully." Mulder said, planting a kiss on her forehead, leading her in. He was really glad she was back. They sat on the couch, arm in arm, watching nothing in particular on the television for an hour sipping beer and muching on popcorn...buttered. "Mulder, we need to talk." Mulder repressed the impulse to groan with disappointment. That phrase might as well have been a death knell. Funny choice of words he just picked with the news the doctors had given him. She was going to quit the Beureau. He knew it would come someday. Someday, he would need to leave the FBI, too. This time, he wouldn't stop her. He couldn't put her at risk anymore. "If you're telling me you want outta the FBI, I understand, Scully. I'm not going to beg you to stay if you really need to leave." "You want me to leave?" She had never been so nervous before in her life; she couldn't place it, but she thought he had been evading something on purpose since South Carolina. But that's not what she needed to find out tonight. "No...that's not it at all." "I don't want to leave the FBI, Mulder." "What...? I--uh--" Relief spred across Mulder's face, and hoped she didn't see it. It was something else, then...had she found out he was sick? "Let me finish." "I want to talk about you and me, Mulder." Her voice wavered and in almost a whisper, she said, "...us." Mulder was completely floored. Usually it was he who brought up the subject of "us," and before, she changed the subject or told him to drop the matter entirely. That night, the walls went down, and no one caved in. ... The End...I mean it... seriously folks! that's all.