The Game
by Humbuggie
based on an idea by Roxcatje
san@net4all.be

Part VIII : The Smell of Hospitals 


Washington Memorial Hospital 
September 17, 12.05 a.m. 

'Do we have to watch this, Fox ?' 
'Mom and dad are at the neighbors and left me in charge.  The Magician's
at nine.' 
Her small hands touched the pieces of the game without any interest in
them.  The argument continued.  'Get out of my life !' He yelled it so
hard she turned away hurt.  A few minutes later she was out of his life.
 

He woke up to stare at several different faces in a room he didn't know.
 They were looking at him.  For a moment the world seemed to freeze. 
Then he noticed they weren't just standing there at all.  They were
working on him, on keeping him alive.  At the same time he knew however
he wouldn't die like this.  The bullet that had entered his body would
not kill him.  Just slow him down.  And the headache he felt was only a
sign of being alive.
 
They didn't seem to notice he was awake.  There were people standing in
the corner.  He saw his partner and his boss talking to each other,
discussing him, no doubt.  He groaned slightly. 

'He's awake.'  

Immediately she was next to him, holding his hand as she said :'Mulder,
it's me.  Do you know where you are ?'

'From the smell of it, a hospital,' he said softly. 

She smiled.  A woman stood next to her.  She said :'Mr. Mulder, I'm Dr.
Roberts.  Do you remember what happened ?'

He felt dizzy still, but fine in a way.  Nothing to worry about. 
Adrenaline shot through his body like a drug.  He was so hyped.  He
couldn't stay here.
'I've got to get out of here,' he said, without realizing he had said it
out loud.  He was already trying to get up, to go after Pinkett again. 
He knew without her confirmation that he had fled again.  

Immediately Scully was there, and she held his hand while saying
:'You're not going anywhere, Mulder.  You were shot.' 

He looked at her and said :'But I'm fine now.  I feel good.' 

'You're not good, Mulder.  You need surgery.  The bullet is still in
your shoulder.  It might cause serious damage if it doesn't come out.' 

'I'm okay, really.'  Mulder looked past her.  'Scully, he's going to be
so mad for not getting to kill this girl.  He'll be extremely dangerous.
 You have to find him.'

'I shot him, Mulder.  He'll need medical attention.  We've got every
hospital on the lookout for him.  He won't get far this time.'

'He's strong.  He can survive to finish his task.'

'Don't worry about that right now.'

He grabbed her hand.  'Listen to me.  He's going to try to get another
victim to compensate for Sophie.  You have no way of knowing who she
might be.  But you have to stop him.'

'We're doing everything we can to find him, Mulder.  You have to calm
down, okay ?'  Her hand touched his cheek.  'Relax, Mulder.  Just let it
go for now.'

'No.  You've got to find him, Scully !'

'We will.  Just relax, okay ?'

Scully looked up at Dr. Roberts and watched her giving her partner a
sedative.  Mulder's head slumped back down on the pillow, still clasping
to her hand.  'He'll go to the movies soon,' he whispered.  His voice
slurred.  'He'll go and see his favorite movie ..'  Then his voice died
away.

'We'll transfer him to the OR immediately,' Dr. Roberts said.  'Surgery
might take quite a while but you can wait if you want to.'

'Yes, I will,' Scully said looking at her sleeping partner.  'Thank
you.'

Roberts nodded and left as soon as the gurney started moving towards the
OR.  Only now Scully noticed she was shaking from fatigue.  The couple
of hours she had slept the past few days didn't compensate for the
pressure put on them. 

'I need to check up on the girl,' she said.

Skinner grabbed her by the arm as she swayed.  'She's fine and asleep,
Scully.  She's well-guarded.  He won't get to her even if he is stupid
enough to come in here.  Mulder saved her life by throwing himself over
her.'

'I should have shot Pinkett earlier.  I could have prevented this.'

'You did the right thing, Scully.  Pinkett could have killed you too. 
We all know by now he's dangerous and unpredictable.  A bullet doesn't
stop him.  If Mulder is correct, he'll try to find another victim to
fulfill his needs.  Concentrate on that.' 

'Let's hope he's dying then,' she sighed before leaving the room. 


September 17, 5 a.m. 
Washington DC, Memorial Hospital

'Miss Scully.' 
Dana Scully was aware of a hand touching her arm.  Then she felt herself
leaning against someone else. As she opened her eyes, she saw it was
Skinner she leaned against.  He looked at her with a grin on his face. 
Flushed she pulled back, glad she didn't drool on him. 

'Miss Scully.'  Now she saw Dr. Roberts shaking her arm.  

'How's Mulder ?'  She asked, coming out of her chair.

'He's just fine.  Luckily the bullet didn't leave any permanent damage. 
He won't be using his shoulder for quite some time though.'  She pointed
at a figure on a gurney near the elevators.  A nurse was standing next
to his bed.  He was covered with white sheets and blankets, an IV in his
hand.  
'We're moving him to a private room.  He's been awake and lucid in
Recovery.  If all goes well he'll be out of here in no time.' 

Scully walked over to the gurney and grabbed her partner's hand.  He
responded by sighing deeply and sleeping off whatever drugs he was
injected with. 

At last he was asleep in a bed in a private room.  Scully watched him.

'He is going to be fine, Scully,' Skinner said.

'I know, sir.'  She smiled faintly.  'I've seen him in worse conditions
than this.  But it's not his body I'm worried about.  I wonder how long
it will take for his mind to heal.'

'I know that right now you are going to sleep in one of the beds on this
floor.  I've arranged it so you can take a nap.'

'I'm not leaving his side.'

'I'm staying here, Scully.  When he wakes up, he'll see a familiar face.
 Now go get some sleep.  That's an order !'

'Yes, sir.' 

She took one last look at her partner and left the room quietly.  She
knew Skinner would keep his word and stay at her partner's side for the
remainder of the night.  When she was able to get some rest in one of
the hospital beds, she slept before her head hit the soft pillows. 


September 17, 9.30 a.m. 
Washington DC, Memorial Hospital

Mulder opened his eyes to see hers.  She smiled.  'Hey,' she said.  'How
do you feel ?'

'Tired.' He winced as he tried to move his body.  'How am I doing ?'

'You're shoulder's going to be fine a couple of weeks.  The concussion I
feared is only minor.  You did get some nice stitches in the back of
your head though.  Luckily you've got a thick skull.  You'll be out of
here in no time.'

'Like today ?' He asked hopefully.

'No way, Mulder.  Your body is still in shock and needs to heal.'

'Dear Scully, you know I don't react like others to pain and medication.
 Fill me up with some good painkillers and I'll be out of here in no
time.'

'Mulder -'  She looked at Skinner for support, but Mulder's persuasive
voice stopped her.  

'Scully, you know I can't stay here.  No one else is going to be able to
stop him at the end.  He won't allow it.'

'What are you saying, Mulder ?'

'He's suicidal, Scully.  He's taking too many risks.  I think he's
tired.  A part of him wants me to stop him.  That's why he hesitated to
shoot at you last night.  I'm sure that at the end he will go down with
a blast.'

'And he'll try to drag you with him.' 

'I won't let him,' Mulder said forcefully.  'I've got too much work to
do.  With you.' 

She smiled.  

'How's the girl doing ?'

'Physically she's okay.  But her parents are dead, Mulder.  An aunt is
picking her up today and taking her to Chicago.  Their flight leaves
tonight.  She'll need a psychiatrist to talk this thing through.'

'Don't we all ?'  He swallowed away the lump in his throat and tried to
move his shoulder.  Despite a throbbing pain, it was less painful than
he thought.  

'So, when can I leave ?'

She sighed.  'You're not going to listen to me, are you ?'

'No.' 

She looked at Skinner.  'Alright, here's the deal,' she said.  'You stay
one day in hospital.  If you feel better by tonight, we're out of here. 
But you'll do as I say, or I'll have you admitted for a week, you got it
?'

Mulder debated for a second, realized this was the best deal he could
get, and agreed.  

'Good, you are going back to sleep.  We'll give you something so your
body can relax.  I know you, Mulder.  You'll refuse to get some sleep
and then you'll be worrying about Pinkett all the time.  If your
condition is improved by tonight, you're released.'  She smiled as she
his forehead.  'You're a bad patient, Mulder.  Even when you're out.'

'Why ?  What did I do ?'

'You were shouting at Skinner, even in your sleep.  He stayed with you
while I got some sleep.  You ordered him to get the tapes so you could
figure out where Pinkett could go next.  Then you calmed down somewhat
and started telling him he had to go to the Antarctic to fetch my
clothes you had to leave behind.  You said that you loved the outfit I
was wearing when they abducted me.'

'I did ?' 

'Oh yeah.  The poor man tried everything to calm you down and eventually
went to get me.  Then you told me that you bees.  I wonder why.' She
smiled.  'Let's just say Skinner mentioned the words 'raving like a
madman' about ten times.

'Oh boy.'  Mulder looked at his boss in the corner of the room, suddenly
very interested in a magazine.  
'Is he mad ?'

'Nah.'  Scully grinned.  'He'll get over it.' 

'Good.'  Mulder felt the adrenaline rush pass.  He was exhausted in a
way, but couldn't fall asleep just yet.  'Are you okay ?'

She smiled.  'Yeah, I am.  A bit tired, but we all are.  These are
hectic days.'

He looked at her, noticing the fatigue and fear in her eyes.  'It wasn't
your fault, Scully.'

She still held his hand.  'You know me too well, Mulder.'

'You saved the both of us.  What's a bullet here or there.  You shot me
in the left shoulder, he shot me in the right.  I'm sure the scars will
match.'

'I shot you in the front of your shoulder, Mulder,' she smiled.  'And
back then you were raving like a madman as well.' 

He looked at her seriously.  'Don't make me go inside his head again,
Scully.  I can't bare it anymore.  I don't want to.'

'You won't, I promise,' she said firmly, kissing the knuckles of his
fingers out of pure instinct.

'Hmm, I should get shot more often if you continue do to stuff like
this,' he whispered groggily.

'Don't push your luck, Mulder.  It's still not raining sleeping bags.'

Dr. Roberts came in to check on her patient.  'I'm glad to see you're
doing well, agent Mulder.'

'Yeah well, I've had some good doctors taking care of me,' he responded.
 His voice was barely understandable.  He didn't want to talk anymore
now.  Just get relax and get some sleep.  He was too tired to argue with
female doctors.

A nurse came in, added something in his IV and said :'You're going to
sleep now, Mr. Mulder.  Have a good rest.'

He already felt groggily, but now he felt himself slipping into
lala-land again.  'I like this stuff she's given me,' he slurred as he
slipped away, with Scully's hand still firmly in his own.
Scully looked at him.  Even in this drug-induced sleep, he frowned as if
he couldn't fight off the demons inside of Pinkett's twisted mind.

Mulder didn't feel it when they drained blood from him for another close
exam, nor when they checked his pulse again.  'He's sleeping like a
baby,' Dr. Roberts said.  'You must have the magic touch, Dr. Scully.'

'Not at all,' she said calmly.  'But I know how to manhandle Mulder.'

Scully told her about the promise she had made Mulder.  It was obviously
Dr. Roberts didn't agree with her.  'If he insists on being released
tonight, it's against my wishes, Dr. Scully.  His shoulder needs to
mend.  The bullet nearly passed his collarbone.  This time he was very
lucky, but if he doesn't take care of that injury, it might cause
permanent damage.' 

'Whether or not he can be released today is not an option, Doctor.' 
Scully, Skinner and Dr. Roberts looked at Terence Davis, just entering
the room.  'We need him.  And there's no time.  Pinkett's running out of
time himself.'

Even though Scully knew Davis was right, it still didn't feel right.  If
she had to chose between the life of a young girl, or the life of her
partner, she knew that - despite the guilt - she would choose the
latter.  

Terence Davis stepped outside with Skinner and Scully.  They both looked
at the newcomer standing behind Davis.  'This is Mark Bellows, working
for the Executive Branch.  He is currently assigned with investigating
Dan Schreiber.  We found his car about half an hour ago.  Williamson's
dead.  He was shot point black to the face.  It appears as if Schreiber
killed him.'  Davis frowned.  'I still can't believe it.  I've known Dan
for five years.  He's always been a good man.  The fact that he turned
on us has nothing to do with money.  Pinkett doesn't own a dime.' 

'Could Pinkett have something on Schreiber ?' Skinner asked.  'Have you
been checking his background to spot any connections with him ?'

'So far we've found nothing that might explain his moves,' Davis
responded.  'I'm not sure if we will.  We've got an APB out on him. 
Every airport in the area is currently under guard in order to track him
down.  He might be the only one who knows where Pinkett is hiding.'

'I would like to see his file, sir,' Scully said.  

'Of course.  I'll get you a copy today.  Are you going to be staying
here all day ?'

'Yes,' Skinner said.  'Agent Scully is not leaving Mulder's side, and
I'm staying here as well to make sure both of them are alright.  The
Bureau has been notified.  Every call with be dispatched through the
hospital.' 

'I've arranged for security for agents Mulder and Scully,' Davis
continued.  'Mulder won't be going anywhere without someone covering his
back.' 

'Agreed.'  Skinner looked at Scully who was already starting to protest.
 She closed her mouth, knowing it would be of no use to tell them
Pinkett could have had any opportunity the night before to murder
Mulder.  It was obviously not in his intention to do so until he got
what he wanted.

'When do you think I can talk to Mulder ?' Davis asked.  'We need to
know Pinkett's next move.'

'Not for the first couple of hours.  They made sure he's getting some
rest.  He hasn't been sleeping well for days I should say, except of
course for the drug-induced slumbers he's been going through.  Mulder
said something about a movie though.  He said that Pinkett would be
going to see his favorite movie.'

'What's that supposed to mean ?  There are dozens of movie theaters in
the area, Scully.  We cannot possibly close all of them.'

'With your permission, sir, I am going to listen to the tapes and see if
I can find out anything.  We are running out of time.'

'Indeed.  Get Mulder back on his feet, agent Scully.  After a trip to
the Antarctic I'm sure a single gunshot wound won't stop him from
getting this guy.  I'll talk to you later, Walter.'

Davis took off with Bellows right beside him.  Scully stared at him, and
then said to Skinner :'I can understand why everybody has such
admiration for AD Davis, sir, but with all due respect : The man has no
heart.'

'He's just as worried about Mulder as we all are, Scully,' her boss
responded.  'He just has a different way of showing it.'

'I'm sure.'

The both of them returned to Mulder's room.  He was sound asleep.  
'He's going to be out for the rest of the day,' Skinner said.  'And
we're running out of time.'

'Right now, sir, I don't really care.  Mulder is at the end of his rope.
 I'm more concerned for my partner than anything else.'

Skinner didn't respond but looked at her.  Of course he had noticed the
way she seemed to be attached to her partner.  Not so long ago she had
resigned from the Bureau, knowing perfectly well it would end her
partnership with Mulder.  He had persuaded her somehow not to go.  When
they returned from the Antarctic, and she was still in hospital being
treated for hypothermia, she had talked to Skinner on the phone and
asked him to tear up her resignation letter.  Skinner hadn't filed it
yet, at that time not knowing whether or not she was still alive.  When
she was taken from Mulder's apartment, and Mulder went after her, shot
and burning up with fever, Skinner had known the both of them might not
make it.  But not one second had he imagined she would have been kept
prisoner inside a UFO.  Not for one second had he doubted Mulder's
version of the facts, especially not when the strange fluid found on her
clothes proved to be non-definable.  Perhaps extra-terrestrial. 

Mulder had sounded happy on the phone when he talked to Skinner,
relieved.  Scully had told her boss they had nearly lost Mulder.  When
they were transferred to a hospital, Mulder was burning up with fever. 
He had been out of it for days before he was finally able to have a
decent conversation with Scully.  

After the last committee-meeting Scully had talked to Skinner in private
and had told him about her new devotion towards the cause Mulder had
been fighting for for so long.  She knew Mulder was ready to give up on
everything, especially when the committee did not accept the evidence at
hand.  Scully was the one persuading it not everything was over and
dealt with. 

Now Scully was the one keeping her partner in one piece while he saw the
insides of a madman's head.

 
September 17, 10 a.m.
Washington DC, Maddalena Street

He woke up with a throbbing headache and the sense something was wrong. 
His hand automatically went to his side.  Blood on his fingers and the
palm of his hand.  Damn her for shooting him ! 
He sighed as he tried to get up.  The cloth he had used to cover his
side with was soaked with blood.  His sweater was ruined indefinitely. 
He swayed as he tried to keep himself together.  
'Don't you die on me now, Pinkett,' he said out loud to himself. 
'You've got a job to finish.'

He knew he had to get in touch with Schreiber.  If anyone could help him
it was Schreiber.  His fingers found the cellphone and dialed his
number.  After a while an insecure voice picked up.  'Yeah ?'

'Schreiber, it's me.  You gotta help me, man.  I've been shot.'

Silence.  'Where are you ?'

Pinkett debated whether or not to tell him his whereabouts.  

'Come on, man, I can't help you if you don't tell me where you are.'

'Maddalena Street.  The old school building.  Second floor.  Hurry up,
man.' 

'I'm on my way.'  

Pinkett sighed as he let the phone slip out of his fingers and rested
his head against the brick wall.  Yeah, Schreiber would help him. 

It took less than ten minutes for his contact to arrive.  Pinkett heard
the car drive up and park behind the building, then after a while
footsteps made their way up the stairs.  He held out his gun, ready to
kill him of he hadn't come alone.  But Schreiber wouldn't betray him. 
He knew that just as surely as he knew he was in pain. 

'Jesus, man,' Schreiber said as he pulled aside Pinkett's hand.  'You
need a hospital.'

'No.  I've got to finish what I started.  Patch me up, Schreiber.'

'I can't, man.  I'm not a doctor.'

'I don't care what you are.  Get that bullet out and patch me up.'

Schreiber had brought a first-aid kit and stared at it helplessly.  'I
don't have anything to put you out with.  It's gonna hurt like hell,
man.'

'I don't give a damn.  Just do it.' 

Schreiber knew the bullet could have torn up a vital organ within
Pinkett's body, but he had no choice.  If he didn't help Pinkett, he'd
pay the consequences.

'Okay.  You've got to lie down.' 

Slowly he helped Pinkett down on a blanket, staring at the spots of old
blood against the wall.  Jesus, he didn't want to think about the girls
Pinkett had murdered here.  He just didn't want anything to do with it. 
He just wanted it all to be over, so he could leave this place for good
and start a new life. 
Pinkett lay on his good side and bit on his knuckles as Schreiber
touched the sore spot.  Schreiber checked out the wound.  He could
actually see the bullet.  It hadn't penetrated his body completely, just
seemed to be stuck there.

'I can see it,' he said.  'I think it might be okay.  Lie still,
Pinkett.'

Schreiber tore up a T-shirt he found at Pinkett's directions and used it
dab away some of the blood.  With a pair of tweezers and scissors he
slowly pulled open the wound.  Pinkett sighed deeply and moaned.  He was
in terrible pain.   Schreiber was able to get the bullet quickly,
immediately pushing the cloth on the wound, to stop the bleeding.  As he
pushed, Pinkett let out a cry and passed out. 

Schreiber looked at him.  How easy wouldn't it be to kill him right here
and now.  But he couldn't.  He was just as dependent on Pinkett as
Pinkett was on him.  

The bleeding eventually stopped.  Schreiber used all the tape he could
find to keep the cloth in its place, knowing perfectly well the wound
would start to infect soon if not treated properly.  But Pinkett was
'patched up', just as he had requested. 

Pinkett woke up some time later and drank eagerly from the water
Schreiber gave him.  'You're dying, man,' Schreiber said.  'If you don't
get treated properly, you won't make it.'

Pinkett blinked his eyes.  'I've decided to skip ahead on my plan,' he
said, licking his dry lips.  'You're right, I won't make it.  But you
know what ?  It doesn't matter.  I'll get to take a few girls with me
before I go.'

'What are you going to die ?'

'Tell me what happened with little Sophie.  Is she in hospital ?'

'Yeah, so is Mulder.  At least that's what I read in the paper this
morning.  He's becoming quite a hero, that nemesis of yours.  Got his
photo in all the papers.'

'What do they say ?'

'That he saved her by throwing himself over her and getting shot in her
place.  He'll probably get a medal for that one.' 

Pinkett laughed.  'Such irony.  Spooky Mulder, the basement office Fed,
getting a medal.  But he's not able to grab the most dangerous man in
the country, is he ?'

'What are you going to do with him ?'

'I've got something nice in store for him,' Pinkett smiled.  'But I need
you to do me a favor.'  

'Sure.'

Pinkett crawled to the game of Stratego he had stashed with the rest of
his belongings and took it out.  'Ship this to the Bureau.  I want
Mulder to have this when he's invited to go to Chilmark, Massachusetts. 
After that, you're free to do whatever you want.' 

Part VIII : One didn't fly over the Cuckoo's Nest 

Washington DC, September 30, 1990
Statement Robert David Pinkett, interview by Section Chief Terence Davis
Additional notes on September 17, 1998 by Special Agent Dana Scully
Current assignment : Violent Crime Section. 

'After you killed Sophie, what did you do next, Robert ?' 

'Well, you know.  I'd really gotten a taste for the kill.  I figured I
might take girls at the same time, but decided against it.  After all, I
wanted to prolong everything as long as I could.'

'You found her in a movie theater.'

'Yeah.  I went to see my favorite movie at one of those old theaters in
the city center.  You know, the ones that show the classics over and
over again.'

'Which movie ?'

'One flew over the Cuckoo's nest.' (laughter) 'Kind of appropriate,
don't you think ?'

'How did you find her ?'

'By coincidence.  I didn't expect to see her there.  I was sitting in
the backrow, as I usually do, eating my popcorn, minding my own
business.  And then I saw her.  She was lovely.  She looked a lot like
my mom.  We used to go together to see this movie, my mom and I.  We
knew every single detail of the movie, every bit of music, every line of
dialogue.  And when she was gone, I promised myself to keep the
tradition alive.  So I went alone, and I found her there.  She was with
a bunch of people.  I think it was her class.  There was an older guy
with them - he looked like a teacher.' 

'What did you do next ?'

'I waited for the movie to end and got out of there first.  I watched
them as they entered the lobby, discussing the movie.  A couple of them
went to the ladies' room.  She was with them.  I followed them, and
waited near the emergency exit, just behind the ladies' room.  I got out
the syringe and prepared it for her.  She was alone when she stepped
out.  I simply plunged the needle in her back and watched her go limp in
my arms.  Quickly I dragged her outside, through that exit.  She was
unconscious and didn't know what was happening to her.  I had the car
parked a block away, and knew I could never get her there.  So I decided
to do it right here.  I didn't want to wait any longer.  
I shook her until she responded me.  She was drugged of course,
completely out of it.  I somehow got her on her feet and held her
against me.  I kissed her, I think.  I remember the smell of her.  She
had my mother's favorite perfume on her young body.  I didn't want to
let go of her that quickly, but I knew I had to.  I pulled out the gun
and held it to the back of her head, holding her a few inches from me. 
She didn't know what happened to her when I pulled the trigger.  I got
her blood all over me.  My hands and jacket were blood-red.  I took off
the jacket, and used my handkerchief to wipe off the blood.  I didn't
have a blanket to lay her in, but I used a piece of plastic I'd found in
that alley.  I lay her on it, said goodbye and left.  A few hours later
I was already on my way to find my next victim.  The next day I found
out her name in the paper.  I didn't know it because I couldn't ask her.
 It was something I hadn't prepared like I had done with the others, but
I enjoyed it tremendously.' 

'Her name was Gillian Kennedy, Robert.' 

'Yeah.'  
(silence)
'Do you think she was related to good old JFK ?  Would have been
appropriate.  They both gotten their heads blown away.' 


September 17, 1.15 p.m. 
Washington DC, Memorial Hospital 

A throbbing pain in the back of his head reminded him of the events of
the previous night.  He brought his left hand to the back of his head,
to feel the few stitches keeping together the skin underneath his brown
hair.  He watched her as she sat at the table, going through her notes. 
He looked at the small tape recorder.  He didn't need to listen to it
this time.  

He remembered vaguely trying to tell Scully the night before what
Pinkett's favorite movie was, but couldn't remember actually telling
her. 

'One flew over the Cuckoo's Nest,' he croaked.  He heard his voice
falter.  Immediately she got up and came towards the bed.  

'I know,' she said.  'We're doing a checkup on all theaters playing that
movie right now.  Every single place is going to be swarming with
Federal Agents, Mulder.'

'He might not pick this movie right now.  I remember - He said something
when we asked him about it.  He said he was a sucker for old movies -
the classics.  I think he might go for another movie this time.'

'Which ?'

Mulder closed his eyes, trying to imagine Pinkett as he was on his way
to yet another victim.'

'You shot him, didn't you ?  Or was that a dream ?'

'No, he's hurt.  I'm not sure how bad it is, but I hope it's very
serious and he might be bleeding to death somewhere.' 

'Have they found Schreiber yet ?'

'No.  He's probably hiding somewhere in town.' 

Mulder sighed. 'Let me see your notes.'

She handed them to him.  Quickly he read through them, trying to
remember what he had forgotten.  His head was spinning.  He could hardly
think.  He lifted himself up until he was supporting his body against
the soft pillows.  'He won't go inside the theater this time.  He said
he found her by coincidence, right ?  He has a list of potential
victims.  We have to set him up somehow.'

Mulder pulled aside the blankets and sheets, lowering himself off the
bed.

'Hey, where do you think you're going ?'

'Where do you think ?'  He pleaded with her as she was already trying to
get him back into the bed.  He looked at her hands on his chest and
grinned :'Scully, under any other circumstances I would be very aroused
right now, but we don't have to time to play around.'  She flushed
immediately and backed off.  He smiled, thinking she hadn't blushed this
much in years.  'Look, you told me I could get out of here today, right
?'

'I meant tonight, Mulder. And I said 'maybe'.'

'I'm fine, honestly.  Pull the IV out, please.'

'Don't lie, Mulder.'

'Okay, I'm sore, I ache all over and my shoulder is killing me.  But I'm
fine.'  

She couldn't help but laugh at his confession.  'If I let you out of
here, will you promise to do as I tell you ?'

'Scout's honor.' 

'Yeah, right.'  Slowly she pulled out the IV, placing a Band-Aid over
the spot.  'Get dressed, Mulder.  Or do you need help or that ?'

'I think I can zip my own fly, but thanks for the offer.'

She took his clothes out of the locker and gave them to him.  He closed
the bathroom door.  She heard some mumbling, noises and the occasional
'Fuck !', but at the end he came out looking like a boy who had just won
the lottery.  He had managed to pull the sweater over his neck, leaving
the right arm dangling underneath it.  His left arm was in the sleeve. 
His jeans was buttoned. (He didn't even have a fly ! she thought).  His
shoes were untied.

'Hop on the bed,' she said, taking a chair.  He sat down and she tied
his shoelaces.  Then she grabbed his jacket and put it over his
shoulders.  Needless to say that Skinner looked surprised when he found
his agents ready to go.  Of course he knew better than to argue with
Mulder. 

When they left, Scully walked next to her partner, ready to grab him if
he showed the least symptoms of fatigue.  But Mulder walked firmly
towards the elevators, and just as firmly towards Skinner's car on the
lot.  

As they drove to the Bureau, Skinner couldn't help but feel admiration
for the way his agent seemed to ignore the pain he most definitely must
have been feeling. 


September 17, 1.45 p.m. 
Washington DC, Lusen's Classic Movie Theater 

The woman at the counter hardly looked at him when he walked around the
small lobby without buying a ticket.  He walked up to the window and
checked out the Theater across the street.

'Do they still run 'One flew over the Cuckoo's Nest ?' he asked her.

'Yeah.  Not that anyone still watches that movie.  Except of course for
all the school kids.'

'Looks to me like you don't have any trouble getting school kids here as
well,' he smiled, looking at the group that waited nearby.

'What do you expect, with movies like 'Schindler's List'.  I guess we're
kind of dependent on them to survive.  Which movie are you going to
watch, sir ?'

'The same.  'Schindler's List'.  She handed him a ticket which he paid
for with a ten-dollar bill.  'Aren't 
you a bit too old to be a schoolkid ?' she asked with a smile.

'We're all as old as we want to be.' He gave her his best smile and
walked inside.  He sat in the backrow and watched the kids as they took
their seats in front of him.  Eight years old and going to watch a movie
like 'Schindler's List'.  It seemed kind of inappropriate.  
He leaned back and enjoyed the ride.

She got up about an hour after the movie started and walked outside on
her own.  She whispered something to the girl sitting next to her. 
Slowly he got out of his seat and followed her as she walked up to the
ladies' room. 

Gillian Konrad washed her hands and straightened her hair as he glanced
quickly at herself.  She was a pretty girl.  Her long black hair and
blue eyes predicted a future as a beauty queen.  She didn't really like
the movie though.  She didn't like to think about bad things. 

As she opened the door of the ladies' room, she felt two hands grab her
roughly.  One hand was pushed over her mouth, preventing her from
screaming.  The other hand stuck something in her shoulder.  She could
feel a sharp pain as the sharp object grazed her collar bone.  Then,
before she could do anything, she slid on the floor and slipped away in
a dreamless sleep. 

'Hey, little girl, wake up.'  A hand shook her roughly.  She could
hardly focus on what was happening to her.  It was cold outside.  She
could feel the wind as it reached out for her clothes and hands and
naked legs.  The hand kept shaking her.  

She opened her eyes now, staring at a pair of black shoes.  Legs in
jeans.  She startled, and crawled on hands and feet, trying to get away
from him.  He lifted her up like she was a rag doll.  She hardly weighed
anything.  She felt lips grazing her cheek.  She was too weak to resist
him.

'Gillian, Gillian,' he said softly.  'My little Gillian.'

She saw his right hand.  He lifted a gun to her head.  She started to
struggle.  
'No,' she whispered, her words barely clear.  Then the world exploded in
a rage of fire and pain.  And there was nothing left. 


September 17, 2.15 p.m. 
Washington DC, Federal Bureau of Investigation. 

The Violent Crime Section stopped buzzing for a few seconds when agent
Fox Mulder arrived.  Mulder felt the urge to laugh as he noticed the
surprised faces of his colleagues.
'Hey, Mulder, good to have you back.'
'Mulder, the hero,' someone uttered smiling.
'How ya doing, Mulder ?'

Mulder shook hands from people he didn't even know, and felt terribly
embarrassed as he sat at his desk.  Terence Davis walked out of his
office, checking him from head to toe. 

'I knew you'd be back this afternoon,' he said, nodding in agreement. 
'How's it going, Mulder ?'

'Dandy.  Any news on Pinkett or Schreiber ?'

'No.' 

Mulder looked past Davis and stared at the board.  Several photos were
now attached to it.  Denise, Amy, Valerie, Sophie.  A big cross over
Sophie's photo.  She had made it. 

'We're working on the assumption Pinkett is going to move on and try to
get a girl in a theater,' Davis said.  'Specifically the ones showing
classic movies, like 'One flew over the Cuckoo's Nest'.  Those theaters
are usually visited by school kids, who have a list of need-to-see
movies.  There are four theaters like that in town, two of them
currently showing Cuckoo's Nest.  Why that movie, Mulder ?'
'It was his favorite.  His mom used to take him there, and after he
killed her, he picked up the habit.  I think he must have seen it about
100 times or so.  Maybe he identified himself with it.'  Mulder got out
of his chair and stared at the newspaper article someone had put up
regarding last night's events at the pool.  Mulder was described at the
Bureau's most skilled profiler and FBI-agent with an excellent record. 
He almost laughed as he looked at Davis.  
'I'm surprised they didn't mention my little Antarctic excursion,' he
exclaimed. 

'You're a hero now, Mulder.  Get used to it.' 

Mulder sniffled and turned towards Scully, who watched him.  'Okay,
let's presume Pinkett is still out there but hurt.  Who might he call to
get help from ?' 

'We've put his old buddies under surveillance.  None of them have shown
any signs of unusual behavior.  We've bugged their phones and he hasn't
been in touch with them.  He probably knows we'd be listening in.'

'So the one person he can turn to, is Schreiber.'

'Yeah.'   Davis frowned, rubbing his hand across his forehead.  

'I'm sorry about Williamson, Terence,' Mulder said softly.  'He was a
good man.' 

'Yeah, he was.  So was Dan Schreiber.' 

'Can I see his file ?'

'Sure.'  Davis picked it up from his desk and handed it to Mulder.  He
sat down, opening the file with his left hand.  His right hand and arm
were terribly sore.  Even though he detested painkillers, he wouldn't
mind saying no to a couple right now.  

Scully looked up when her partner didn't speak for a couple of minutes. 
She found herself staring at him, along with Davis, Skinner and a few
others that seemed to notice only now he was back in profiler-mode.  His
eyes seemed blank as he rummaged through Schreiber's file, concentrating
on what he saw and read about the agent.  Then he closed his hazel eyes,
and seemed to withdraw within.

Scully remembered his plead to her in the hospital.  'Don't make me go
back inside his head again, Scully.'  Only now did she realize she could
not possibly get him out of that world.  He chose voluntarily to go
inside, and to find what it was he was looking for at the end.  

She didn't know how to handle him when he was like this.  He had used
his profiler-skills before, when they worked on cases together, but
never this firmly and seemingly unafraid to go into that dark world. 
Even when he was profiling Mostow, and the monster that Bill Patterson
had become, there was still a glimpse of sanity inside of him that
prevented him from jumping over the edge.
Now, probably still confused by the drugs he had been given at the
hospital, and the pain that must be killing him, he seemed to have no
defense whatsoever against the dark world Pinkett was in. 

Slowly she knelt beside him, placing her hand on his left arm.  He
jerked away from her, pushing her aside.  When he opened his eyes, he
didn't see her.  He was far gone by now, trying to imagine Pinkett's
every move.  

Davis nodded towards Scully to let her step aside.  He sat beside
Mulder.  'Tell me what you see, Mulder.'

'I think she's already dead.  He's angry because last night's events
worked out bad for him.  He doesn't have much time anymore.  I think
he's sick with fever.  He's hurtin'.  He wants to take risks, to get it
over with.'  Mulder nodded his head.  'I can't see what he wants.  Can't
feel it, you know.'

'What's he planning ?' 

Mulder got out of his chair and walked over to the board.  His left hand
touched Amy's photo.  She was the one who looked the most like Samantha.
 He felt tears roll down his cheeks.  He couldn't stop them anymore.  
'Do we have to watch this, Fox ?'
Her scream cut like a knife through his mind.  It hurt almost more than
physical pain.  
'I'm sorry, Sam.'  He didn't know he had said it out loud. 

'She's not your sister, Mulder,' Davis said, standing next to him. 
'Your sister is still alive.  You saw her.' 

'No.  I don't know if it was her.  She's dead.  Just like the others.'

'Mulder, look at me.'  

Mulder didn't respond.  His blank eyes still concentrating on the images
in his mind.  His kid-sister lying dead in his arms.  Her skull
completely blown away.  Her eyes dead and motionless.  Her blood on his
hands.  He had caused all this.  Her blood and their blood was on his
hands.   

'Fox, look at me.'  He heard his first name.  No one ever used his first
name.  His mother did.  She said it in a way that hid the frustration in
her voice when she was angry with him for poking too much in her past.  

'Who is my father ?'  He remembered asking her the question before she
hit him in the face.  
'You're bleeding, Fox.' 
He looked down at his arm.  Blood was leaking through it, covering his
hand.  Joanna's blood.  He could still it, sticky to his fingers and the
palm of his hand. 

'Fox, look at me.'  He looked aside and swayed.  Davis grabbed his left
arm.  'She is not your sister, man.  Your sister is still out there, and
one day you'll find her.'

'They're all my sisters.'

'No, they are not.  He's chosen them to get back at you.  Because he
knows what it'll do to you.  Don't let him destroy you.  Tell me where
we can find him.' 

'He's killed another one.'

'Where ?'

'The theater.  He won't stop until it's over.  He'll kill them all
because he likes it.' 

Mulder turned and stared at the pieces of the game on his desk.  'He's
got the game set out for me somewhere.  He wants me to play Stratego
with him, like I did with Sam before she vanished.  He'll put the girl
at stake.  If I win, she lives.  If I lose, she's dead.'

'Where ?'

'I don't know;' he said desperately.  Mulder shook his head.  'I need to
sit down.' 

He pushed Davis aside and sat behind his desk.  He looked up at Scully,
not aware of the fact his cheeks were still wet with tears.  'I'm so
tired, Scully.  I don't want to do this anymore.  I don't want to plead
for her life.  He won't tell me where she is.'

'Who ?' she asked surprised and shocked.  He was in his own world now,
putting the past and present together.

'The Bounty Hunter.  I begged for her life and he didn't listen.  He
said she was alive, and asked me if I could die now.  He kicked me out. 
But I knew it, you know.  She was still alive, and that's all that
mattered.  At the end, who cares about anything else ?' 

Scully felt tears weld up in her eyes.  'I care,' she said quietly.

Mulder stared down at his hand.  His right hand was somewhere underneath
his sweater.  He started moving his arm, trying to look at his hand.  A
terrible pain shot through his body.  Somehow he managed to pull his arm
through the sleeve of the sweater.   Scully heard a ripping sound, like
he tore some of the bandages.  She tried to help him but he didn't even
see her as he stared at his fingers.  Then he bent over slightly,
putting his face between his hands.   Skinner watched in shock as he
cried. 

Scully knelt down besides him and forced his head on her shoulder.  He
gripped himself to her, because she was his lifeline.  She felt him
slumber against her, and she whispered soothing words, as if he was her
child.  Their relationship went far beyond a sexual one.  Beyond
anything she had ever felt before in her life.  She felt him slide down
a bit, sighing deeply before his body gave in to the stress and loss of
strengths. 

The next moment he found himself lying on the couch in Davis' office.

'Drink this,' Scully said, helping him get some fluids inside of his
system.  He drank rapidly, relieved to feel the cool taste of water
inside his heated body.  She put her hand on his forehead.  'You're
running a fever.'

'I know.'

'How long have you been feeling like crap, Mulder ?'

'Since we left the hospital.'

'You're going back.'

'No way, Scully.  I'm fine.'  He pushed aside her hand and got up before
she could do anything about it, ignoring the throbbing headache and pain
in his shot shoulder.  'I want to see Schreiber's file.'

'There's no need.'  She got up from the chair, and took the file from
Davis' desk.  Only then did Mulder notice they were alone in the office.
 The door was closed.  Mulder was thankful for the moments of peace and
quiet. 

'I think I found what we were looking for, Mulder.'  She handed him a
piece of paper with information.  'Dan Schreiber was adopted in 1947 by
a couple named Elly and Thomas Schreiber, from German origin.  We don't
have much on his background, but when I dug further, I found an
additional note in his file.  It turns out that Dan has been doing a
background check on himself, to try and find out who his natural parents
were.  I asked Davis about it, and he said that Dan took some time off
about a year ago on a personal basis.  He refused to tell anyone where
he went or what he found out about his family.'

'Who made the note ?'

'Davis did.  He wanted Dan to see a psychiatrist as soon as he returned,
but then things got hectic around here, and it never happened.  However
- I contacted his mother about it.  She almost freaked out of course. 
Things were already crazy for her; she's been interrogated regarding
Dan's disappearance.  She told me the name of the adoption agency.'

'And ?'

'Victoria Pinkett's maiden name was Victoria Jackson.  Born in Baltimore
in 1928.  Her father was Russian, but changed his name into Jackson when
he arrived in the US in 1927, a year before she was born.  He married
twice.  His first wife left him in 1939, when his daughter was twelve
years old.  He died eventually in Russia in 1949, with Victoria as a
single child and heir.   Victoria married twice herself.  Her first
husband died in a car-accident in 1946, right after the war.  She was
pregnant at the time.'  
Scully paused.  'Things then get a bit sketchy, Mulder.  Nobody knows
what happened to the baby.  A couple of years later she remarried and
had Robert.  The adoption agency wouldn't tell me much.  Client
confidence and all that.  Schreiber visited them about a year ago and
apparently got what he was looking for.'

'Are you saying that Schreiber and Pinkett are half-brothers ?'

'It would explain a lot, wouldn't it ?' Scully said thoughtfully. 
'Schreiber feels like he needs to protect his half-brother and contacts
him in jail.  I'm sure we can trace down the records of all the visitors
Pinkett's had over the past couple of years.  Dan's name will be in
there.  Pinkett tells Dan he doesn't want to die and asks for his help. 
Maybe he notices his brother's weaknesses and starts threatening him,
telling him to expose him and his family.  He knows Dan will be in
trouble if the truth comes out about his past.  Pinkett is his brother
and he knew about it but didn't mention it to anyone.  He would be
discharged immediately.' 

'So when Pinkett gets out, he contacts Schreiber and forces him to help
him.'

'Yes.  Phone records show that Dan has been calling around quite a bit
lately.  He's abused his position as a Special Agent to find out the
information Pinkett needed about the girls.  He is able to get false
passports and money, and above all, he knew exactly what we were doing. 
He could have warned Pinkett at any time.'

'But Pinkett blew his cover when he got himself caught at the pool,'
Mulder said.  'It makes sense, doesn't it ?  All of it, I mean.'

'Yes, it does.'   Scully looked at him.  'Mulder, there's been another
one.  The call came in a couple of minutes ago.  They found the body of
a girl behind an old theater in town.  She had a piece of the game in
her hand.  Skinner and Davis went there.  Skinner told me not to let you
see the body.  He says it's of no use if you see her.  He's worried
about you, Mulder.'

Mulder nodded.

'He didn't go to see 'Cuckoo's Nest',' Scully continued.  'He chose a
theater across the street, and killed her there.  Schreiber must have
gotten him a list of possible theaters before he went AWOL.  If Pinkett
will go through with the rest of them, you can make sure he's already
provided him with a list of sites he will find the other girls.' 

'Then our only hope is to find Schreiber.' 

'Yes.' 

'You said you talked to his mother.  Do you think she knows anything ?'

'No, I don't think so.  She sounded very upset with her son's actions. 
I don't think she was lying.' 
'But she might know where he went.  We have to talk to her in person,
Scully.'   Mulder got up and grabbed the jacket lying on the chair. 
'Let's go see her.' 

Part IX : Brotherhood and Loyalty 

September 17, 3.45 p.m. 
Washington DC, Dulles Airport

Dan Schreiber didn't feel comfortable sitting in his seat at the
airport, waiting for the flight to Los Angeles.  He didn't want to be
here.  He had wanted to take the car and drive to a small airport on the
East Coast, then take a flight out to the West Coast.  But it would have
taken too long, and he was afraid.  Damn Robert for taking so many
risks.  It was all over now.  His career had gone to hell.  He had
participated in the aid of a fugitive and the murder of several young
girls.

He remembered Mulder's reactions as he was in that dark place, profiling
Pinkett.  It was amazing.  He'd never seen anything like it.  Schreiber
knew that at the end Mulder would get Pinkett.  His half-brother might
not make it.  But right now, Dan couldn't care less.  Pinkett had caused
him too much problems.

He remembered his first visit to the prison, less than a year ago.  The
shock of finding out his family consisted of a half-brother that had
murdered their mother, was enough to leave him nauseated.  And Pinkett
didn't even know he had a brother until Schreiber showed up.  Pinkett
had looked at him with a funny look in his eyes at first, when he
started to explain the bloodline between the two of them.  Then he had
asked him about his profession.  Schreiber didn't want to tell him at
first that he was an FBI-agent, but he couldn't deny it, nor lie about
it.

Pinkett had seemed pleased he had come to visit and asked him if he
would return later to talk some more.  After all, he was on death row,
and he didn't know how much time he had left.  The next visit Pinkett
had started talking about Fox Mulder.  He had started asking him
questions about the man, trying to figure out what made him tick. 
Schreiber knew Mulder only from the stories everyone else had heard. 
The basement office, the red-haired partner, the trouble he got himself
in to on a regular basis.  The truth he sought for so long but didn't
seem able to grasp.  And above all, the way he had found Pinkett and
sentenced him to death.  

He had felt repulsion when he started reading up on the Pinkett-file. 
He hardly knew anything about his brother until everything was spread
out in front of him.  
He hadn't visited Pinkett for quite some time then, but he was attracted
to his half-brother like a magnet.  He needed to know why.  He went back
in December, and asked him about it.  Pinkett never gave a clear answer.
 His mind was filled with hate towards Mulder.

'I'm telling you, brother,' he had said to Dan.  'One day I'll get out
of here and get back at him.  I need to know about him.  I want to know
what he's like, and how I can get to him.' 

Pinkett had told him about Mulder's sister then.  The actual events as
Mulder had reported them in his file.  He had dug up everything he could
on the Bureau's computers and told everything to Pinkett.  He could see
Robert come up with a plan.  

'If I get out, will you help me, big brother ?' Pinkett had pleaded. 
'I'm going to need stuff - things to do.  After all, you are my
brother.'

He had refused at first, knowing perfectly well that he would dig
himself in deeper and deeper.  But Pinkett had started threatening to
expose him.  'What will your boss say if he finds out you're my brother
?  I can send him a long letter, explaining everything.  Your life will
be over, big brother.' 

And Dan knew he had lost.  

A month before the escape Pinkett had told him what to do.  He started
making inquiries, finding out about the girls and their daily routine. 
Following them as Pinkett had followed them.  Carefully selecting them
for the purpose they were intended for.  Fake passports, money, the
resources to find the building in Maddalena Street.  Everything that
Pinkett needed for his final revenge.  And following Mulder.  Taking
pictures of the man when he left and entered his apartment building or
the Bureau.  And then suddenly Mulder vanished.  Nobody knew where he
was, until the news spread around that he had gone to the Antarctic to
find his missing partner.  There was news about them being in hospital,
and him almost dying.  He had told Pinkett.  Robert had been furious. 
'I need Mulder for my revenge, big brother,' he had said.  'Without him,
I might as well be gassed.'

But Mulder had returned and Pinkett got out. 

And now everything had gone to hell.  He sighed as he leant back in his
seat.  He had made his choices and now he would have to live with the
consequences. 
He had bought a ticket to LA under a fake ID and paid cash for it.  He
would never again use the Federal Resources to get wherever he wanted. 
He would never again profile murderers or work with Terence Davis.  He
would have to live a very quiet life in some god-forgotten hole
somewhere in the US.  He would have to get a job somewhere and make a
living somehow.  And the entire FBI would be looking for him. 

The announcement for his flight came.  He got up and lifted his bag. 
His suitcase was already on the carrousel, being lifted in the body of
the plane.  He had nothing with him except some clothes and all the cash
he could get from his ATM.  He couldn't risk going to the bank to empty
his saving's account.  He would do that in LA, just before he would take
a flight to Grand Cayman.  After that, he would decide what to do. 

He handed his boarding pass to the stewardess.  She smiled at him and he
wanted to walk past her.  But then two men in blue suits walked over to
him.  He recognized one of them.  He'd seen Sisco some time before when
they'd been out on assignment together.  Now the man was here to arrest
him. 

He turned around, ready to start running, but the airport was busy and
he saw more of his own men around.  He didn't have a chance.

'Dan Schreiber,' Sisco said as they approached him.  'You are under the
arrest for the conspiracy of murder.  You have the right to remain
silent.  Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of
law ..' 
Dan dropped his case to the ground and didn't budge as they pulled his
hands behind his back and cuffed his wrists.  He was turned around to
face Sisco.  'I think I would like to speak with Fox Mulder now,' he
said weakly.  


September 17, 4.05 p.m. 
Washington DC 

Robert David Pinkett instinctively knew his big brother would be caught
soon enough.  He didn't fight anymore.  Pinkett should have killed him
but he couldn't.  After all, they were next of kin.  Dan would start
talking soon, and Pinkett was tired.  He was fed up with running from
the Feds, from Mulder.  He just wanted to get it over with. 

He had left Maddalena Street a couple of minutes ago, leaving his
fingerprints all over the place.  They would find it soon enough now,
and it didn't matter anymore.  The last girl wasn't going to die here. 
He had changed the bandages at his waste.  The bleeding fortunately had
stopped but he still felt weak.  He had stopped at a grocery store and
bought chunks of chocolate to get some sugar in his system. 
He smiled in anticipation on his way to Chilmark, Massachusetts.  Would
Mulder know where to go ?  Would he figure it out as soon as he received
the game ?  Would he come alone, not wanting to risk the girl's life ? 
Would he figure out which girl Pinkett would take ? 
Of course he would.

Pinkett stopped at a gas station and filled up the Chevy.  Yeah, he
really liked this car.  It would bring him to Chilmark in one long last
drive.  And tomorrow, he would have his Joanna. 

September 17, 4.15 p.m. 
Washington DC

The call came in before they reached the house of Mrs. Schreiber.  
Mulder looked relieved as he said :'They've got him, Scully.  He was on
his way to LA  He wants to talk to me.' 
Scully made a U-turn and drove back to the Bureau, where Dan Schreiber
would be waiting to be interrogated.


September 17, 7.45 p.m.
Washington DC, Federal Bureau of Investigation. 

'You have to understand,' Dan Schreiber said as he drank from the water
with cuffed wrists.  His fingers were clamp, he looked like he could
collapse at any second.   

'All I understand, Dan, is that you murdered your partner in cold blood.
 Did you enjoy pulling the trigger on Williamson ?'  Terence Davis was
the only one in the small interrogation room, sitting on the side of the
table.  Through the glass window, Skinner, Mulder, Scully and Mark
Bellows waited for his confession.

'No.'  Dan shook his head fiercely.  'I didn't mean for it to happen,
honestly.  But you ordered us to bring Robert to jail, and I knew I was
his last chance.  I wanted Williamson to stay out of it, but it was
impossible.'

'Robert murdered another girl after you let him out, Dan,' Davis slowly
said.  'He tried to kill Sophie Jones.  He shot agent Mulder.  He's
going to kill other girls.  Do you want me to go on ?'

'No.'  Dan looked desperate.  'He said he would stop the killing.  He
wanted to get it over with.  He got shot too, he's been losing blood. 
He was tired, he said.  He wanted it to end.'

'And you believed him ?'

'He's my brother !'

'You only met him a year ago !'

'But I love him.  He's my brother.  I've never had a brother.  I - I
thought I could find something I lost.'  Dan's desperate look focused on
the window.  'I want to speak to Mulder now.  I won't say anything more
until I see Mulder in here.  I know he's out there.' 

Terence Davis sighed as he shook his head in disbelief.  'I trusted you,
Dan,' he said softly.  'And you betrayed us.' 

'I love my brother.' 

Davis got off the table and left the room.  He looked at Mulder.  'Are
you up to it ?'

'Yeah.' 

Mulder walked passed him, holding his right arm firmly in the sling. 
'Mulder, before you go in -' Davis stopped him.

'Yeah, Terence ?'

'Remember what I told you eight years ago.  Don't go too far.  Get back
out while you still can.'

Mulder smiled.  'Terence, if I didn't know you better, I'd think you
actually cared.' 

Davis smiled reluctantly.  'Maybe I do.'

Mulder opened the door and closed it behind him.  Dan Schreiber looked
up, examining the agent's stressed appearance.  'You like worse than
before, Mulder.' 

'Yeah well, before I didn't get shot, did I ?'

Mulder poured in some more water and handed it to Schreiber.  'Thanks,'
the former agent said.

Mulder didn't take a seat. 
'Tell me about your brother, Dan.' 

Dan breathed deeply before throwing it all out.  The visits at the jail,
the frustration of having a brother who was going to die in the gas
chamber soon.  The threats and persuasion to help him.  And the fear of
getting caught.  

'I figured you were after me,' he said with something that sounded like
a twisted grin.  'You're brilliant, Mulder.  Always have been.  You
would find him and then kill him.  And I would be stuck in the middle of
it, trying to save whatever was left of my miserable life.'

'I'm not going to kill him, Dan.  He needs to be brought to justice and
I'm not going to take it in my own hands.'

Dan sighed.  'It doesn't really matter anyways.  He's dying.  He got hit
bad, Mulder.  I'm not sure how long he can survive like this.'

'He managed to murder a girl like this.  Do you really think he's going
to just fall down and die ?'

'I don't know.'

'You have to tell me where he is, Dan.'

'I don't know.'

'You're lying.  Why do you keep on protecting him ?'

'I know about his hideout.  Maddalena Street.  An old school building. 
Abandoned since years.  He rented it for two weeks.  He killed them
there - most of them anyway.  I saw the blood splattered against the
walls.  He enjoyed killing them, he said.'

'Okay.'  Mulder glanced quickly at the mirror, knowing that Skinner
would immediately send out several Federal Agents to comb the place with
a toothbrush.  But they wouldn't find Pinkett there.  He was already
gone.

Dan looked up at him.  'Did you receive my package, Mulder ?'

'What package ?'

'The game.  I had to send it to you by courier.  He said you would need
it when he wanted to play the game with you.'

'I haven't received it yet.'

'He said you'd know where to find him as soon as you received it.  He
wanted you to have it because it would remind you of Samantha.'

Mulder frowned, thinking about that last night in Chilmark.  
'Do we have to watch this, Fox ?'

'You had a list with names of girls and places, didn't you, Dan ?'

'Yes.' 

'Give it to me.' 

'I don't have it with me.  I burnt it.' 

'I'm sure you can remember the names of the girls.' 

Dan frowned.  'I might.  What's it worth to you ?'

'Are you trying to make a deal ?'

'Yeah.  I won't spend the rest of my life in jail, Mulder.  People will
know I'm a Fed.  I'll be dead before the end of the day.  I can't bare
it.  I want to cut a deal, now.' 

'You know I can't make that promise.'

'Davis can.  Skinner can.  I want to cut the deal or you don't get the
list.' 

'I'll have to talk to them first.'

'You do that.  And then come back to me and propose the deal.' 

Mulder turned and left the room.  Davis and Skinner both frowned.  'He
won't get a deal,' Davis said.  'If we go with this to the Branch,
they'll never go for it.'

'If you don't get it, three other girls might die, sir,' Mulder said
firmly.

'Mulder, you know Pinkett.  Let's assume he left Washington DC  Where
might he have gone ?'

'It could be anywhere, sir.  Boston, Richmond, hell, even the West
Coast.  We have no way of knowing.'

'Would he take a flight out ?'

'No.  He's much more careful than Dan.  He'll drive, perhaps take a
flight in some low-profiled airport, and then head out wherever he wants
to go.  But he won't be doing that, sir.  He'll stay here and finish
this.  He wants me to see Joanna die again.' 

'So we have no other option than to make that deal,' Skinner said
softly.  He looked through the window and saw Dan Schreiber panicking
and afraid.  The man would crack under pressure soon.  

'Let me talk to the Director,' Skinner said.  'I might be able to do
something.' 


September 17, 9.45 p.m. 
Washington DC, Federal Bureau of Investigation 

The guard quietly brought Dan Schreiber his dinner and left him alone in
the small, windowless room they had locked him in while waiting for
further actions.  Dan looked down on the plastic fork and knife they had
given him.  They had taken his shoelaces and tie, and everything that he
might use to inflict damage on himself.  They wanted him alive. 

His hands were still cuffed.  He hated the feeling of cold metal around
his wrists.  He detested everything that was happening to him now.  The
humiliation of being interrogated by his former boss.  The look in
Mulder's eyes as he confronted him with his actions.  They would never
cut him a deal.  He'd caused too much damage.

His fingers grabbed the plastic fork and grabbed a large chunk of the
jacked potato.  He took it all in his mouth and swallowed it at once. 
Like a lump it got stuck in the back of his throat.  He choked on it. 
Gagged, swallowed, gagged, choked.  His natural impulses warned him to
fight this, to strive for the air he needed.  But he didn't.  He choked.
 His face turned blue.  He could feel the lump in the back of his
throat, killing him.  And then he no longer needed the air.  The world
had turned gray, and the shades closed. 


September 17, 10.05 p.m. 
Washington DC, Federal Bureau of Investigation

'We've got it,' Skinner exclaimed in triumph as he returned exhausted
from the Director's meeting.  'He's getting his deal.' 

Mulder looked at his boss, debating whether or not he was happy with
this.  Dan Schreiber had gone bad and was now rewarded for it. 

'He'll get minor charges in return for the list.  Protection, all that
crap.  If not, he goes down.'

Mulder lifted himself from the couch in Skinner's office.  His back and
head felt sore and stiff.  Oh for a few hours of sleep. 

'Let's go, Mulder.'  Skinner was already at the door, waiting for his
agents.  Scully followed quietly, struggling with the same sense of
discomfort as Mulder did. 
Skinner called Davis on the way to Schreiber's confinement chamber, and
caught him at his desk.  Davis immediately got on his way. 

The guard opened the door at Skinner's request.  As Skinner entered the
room first, he immediately saw the man cramped on the floor.  'Shit !'  
Dana Scully pushed the guard aside and knelt down beside him.  'He's
turned blue,' she said, checking his mouth.  'There's something in the
back of his throat.  Get some paramedics here !'
She laid Schreiber on his side and hit his back to release the pressure
on his throat.  It didn't work. 

'Mulder, gimme your pocketknife and a pen.'

Mulder didn't ask any questions and watched in amazement as Scully made
a small incision in Schreiber's throat, using the pen as a tool to get
some air in his lungs.

'He's none responsive,' she said.  'Sir, I need you to do CPR.' 

Skinner sat down next to her and tried to revive Schreiber's heart.  The
man did not budge.  After ten minutes the paramedics took over, but to
no avail.  Schreiber did not react to anything.  He had choked on his
last supper. 

'He's gone, Mulder,' Scully said tired.  'And so is our list.' 

Mulder nodded slowly, recapturing Schreiber's last words. 


September 17, 11.40 p.m. 
Washington DC, Residence of Dan Schreiber 

An ongoing search in Dan Schreiber's apartment revealed nothing that
could help the FBI in their search for Robert Pinkett.  A stack of
letters from his brother was found in a small cabinet in the hallway. 
Every letter was read carefully but revealed nothing.  In the trashcan
small pieces of burnt paper were found.  Evidently Schreiber had
carefully burnt the list he had made for his half-brother, and then
thrown the remains in the can.  Every piece was gathered carefully for
further input, but the hope of finding anything that might help was
nihil. 

Elly Schreiber found herself opposed two Federal Agents and their boss. 
The boss seemed quite tired.  He took off his glasses regularly, rubbing
is fatigued eyes.  He concentrated on the conversation though and gave
his input occasionally, asking her questions about her son. 

The woman who sat next to her gave her a tissue while trying to comfort
her with useless words.  She had been the one telling her about her
son's death, explaining to her how her son probably had committed
suicide in order to protect his half-brother.  She was a pretty one,
that woman.  She'd introduced herself and her partner.  She looked just
as tired as her boss, only seemed to deal with it better as she was the
one asking most of the questions. 

The man she had come in with reminded her of her son.  He was just as
tall as Dan, and had the same hair color.  That's where the likeness
ended.  Dan had had a rough face, and an expression that usually
lingered between cold nothingness and professionalism.  He was a quiet
one, her adopted son.  Even as a kid he barely spoke a word.  He always
seemed to be questioning her about his past, and how she had found him. 
She had told him about what the adoption center had said.  That his
mother had been pregnant with him when her husband had died, and
couldn't bare the fact of raising a son on her own.  He had turned into
himself then, questioning his existence.  She wasn't angry when he
started looking for his past, only saddened that he didn't think enough
of his current life to forget about his past. 

The man sitting opposite of her was tall and slim.  He had gotten hurt
somewhere recently.  His face was bruised underneath and above his right
eye.  His arm was draped in a sling.  He was unable to move it as it was
firmly attached to his chest.  He wore a black sweater and jeans, and
didn't seem like an FBI-agent at all when he looked at her.  She liked
his eyes.  They looked at her honestly but sad.  He had told her in a
few short words he was Pinkett's profiler.  She didn't understand him at
first until he continued by telling her her son had been profiling
criminals himself.  Then she realized why he looked so sad. 

He told her he was sorry about her son and didn't mean for this to
happen.  She had cried then, and the woman had given her the tissue to
hide her tears in. 

'Mrs. Schreiber, I know this must have come as a shock to you,' the
woman said.  'But we need to find Robert Pinkett, Dan's half-brother,
before he kills someone else.' 

When she was interrogated earlier that day, one of the Federal Agents
had told her what Pinkett had done.  She had seen it on the news, but it
didn't occur to her until then that this was the same killer everyone
was looking for right now.  And he was Dan's half-brother ? 

'I don't know how to help you,' she sighed.  'I don't live with Dan.  We
didn't talk that much.  He never said anything about his work.'

'Did you know he was tracking down his family ?'

'Yes, of course.  But he never told me if he had found someone.  He went
away for a month and then came back without saying anything about it. 
He's not a talker, I respect that.'

'Mrs. Schreiber,' the injured agent said, 'did Dan ever give you
something to keep for him ?  Letters, a list with something, things he
didn't want to keep at his apartment ?'

She thought for a while.  'No.  Not really.  But I know he kept a lot of
information on his computer.'

'We found the computer,' Skinner said.  'It's password-protected. 
They're working on it right now.'

'Do you know what password Dan used, Mrs. Schreiber ?' the woman asked. 


She shook her head.  'He loved movies.  I remember him talking a lot
about movies.'

'What was his favorite movie ?' Scully asked.

'I'm not sure.  He loved horror.  He mentioned something about a movie
he bought on video some while ago.  Something about a bunch of teenagers
that got killed.  He said it was fitting to watch that movie now because
he felt like the doofy cop that screwed up.' 

'Scream,' Scully said out loud.  
Mulder stared at her in utter admiration.  'Hey, I liked it,' she said
dry.

They got up.  'Thank you for your help, Mrs. Schreiber,' Scully said as
they said goodbye and nodded towards the nextdoor-neighbour who would
spend the night at the old woman's place. 

Mulder smiled at her and gave her his card.  'If you remember anything
else, please give me a call.' 
She nodded.  

At the door she said :'Mr. Mulder.' 

He turned around.  She reminded him so much of his own mother.  Not able
to speak out what she felt or what she was thinking.  Why did they
always have so much trouble expressing their feelings ?

'He wasn't a bad kid.  He just got lost somewhere.  And he was my son.'

'I know, Mrs. Schreiber.'  He stepped outside, knowing they would not
find him tonight. 

Part X : Smells like Teen Spirit 

September 18, 2.05 p.m. 
Just outside Chilmark, Massachusetts. 

He chose a small motel to spend the night.  He didn't think he could go
on much longer.   The bandages were blood-soaked again.  Somewhere down
the line he had managed to tear up something which shouldn't have been
torn up.  He paid in cash for one night.  The man behind the counter
hardly looked at him as he gave him the key to room 12.  He parked the
car up front and got out with the stacks of groceries and bandages he
had bought in some sleazy supermarket on the side of the road.  

He had made quite a few stops along the way, resting his head against
the steering wheel while trying to block out the pain.  Not much longer,
he told himself, thinking about Joanna.  You'll pull through and then
it's all over. 

He barely made it inside.  As all strength left him, he fell on the bed,
not bothering to undress himself.  He just waited until the darkness
passed.

After a while he pulled off the sweater, and stared at the bandages.  He
bit his lip as he slowly pulled away the fiber and checked the wound. 
It was clearly infected.  He felt like shit.  He grabbed the bottle of
desinfection and poured it over his side, wincing in the process.  Then
he put bandages against it and taped it.  He grabbed the bottle of
Tylenol's and took out three, gulping water to swallow them.  
He took out the piece of paper Dan had given him with her name and
address on it.  In the morning she would be his. 


September 18, 1.05 a.m. 
Washington DC, The Marriot Hotel

She heard him tossing and turning behind the open door.  She had
insisted to have it open, in case something was wrong with him.  Now she
sat up straight in bed, listening to his deep sighs as he tried to find
a way to get some sleep.  He had refused any medication or sedatives to
sleep.  She had frowned and wanted to give him while he slept.  Hey,
what didn't know wouldn't hurt him.  But he didn't fall asleep. 

She got out of bed and walked over to his room.  'Mulder,' she said. 
'Do you want to sleep or not ?'

He looked at her in her silk pyamas.  The last time he had seen her like
this, he'd been drunk. 

'You're not sticking another needle in my butt, Scully.  I've had enough
of that in the hospital.' 

'Oh really ?' she said.  'I thought you were asleep when they drugged
you.'

'I was faking it.' 

'I'm sure they didn't go for your butt though.'

He grimaced.  'Needles are needles, it don't matter where you stick 'm.'

She came closer, and sat herself on the side of his bed.  Hair was
tossed in front of her eyes.   Whatever make-up she had on during the
day was now all gone.  She looked young and vulnerable.  'Do you want me
to stay with you until you're asleep ?' she asked.

'Yeah.' 

He pulled away the sheets on the other side of the bed.  She crawled
underneath them, turning on her side to lean towards him.  He felt her
cold feet as they accidentally touched his.  'Sorry.'  She smiled. 
'Skinner should see us like this.'

'Well, at least it's still not raining sleeping bags.' 
He turned towards her on his left side, carefully protecting his damaged
shoulder.  He looked flushed.  

'I think you're running a fever again, Mulder,' she said, sticking out
her hand.  He grabbed it before she could touch his forehead.  'Don't.' 

'Don't what ?'

'Don't be a doctor right now.  Or an FBI-agent.'

'What do you want me to be ?'

'A friend.'

'Mulder, I'm always your friend.  Even when I'm cursing you for running
off half-cocked and getting yourself hurt.' 

'Scully, you saved my ass more times than I can count.  I'm afraid that
one day you won't be there when I need to be saved again.'

She lifted herself up a bit, examining his eyes.  'Are you saying
goodbye, Mulder ?'

'No, I - I'm not sure what I'm doing.'

'Don't do this.  We'll catch Pinkett, you'll be fine.'

'And what if I'm not ?' 

'You will be.  There's too much weirdness out there for you to
investigate.'

'Your regular monster boy, hey ?'

'Mulder, the only times you're happy is when you get a hunch and go
after it like there's nothing more important in life.  Pinkett is not
taking that away from you, and neither is Terence Davis.  You'll come
through this just fine, cause I will be there to save your ass, okay ?'

'Like you always are.'

'Yes.  Now, do you want me to stick a needle in that ass of yours ?' 

'Nah.  I'd rather fall asleep when you sing a song.'

'We're not in the woods, Mulder.  There's something like a radio, or a
television.  Your electronic baby-sitters, remember ?'  

'You won't even sing 'Twilight Time' for me ?' he asked disappointed.

'Not even when you're strapped to an AI.  Now close your eyes and
sleep.' 

'Yes, mom.'

He closed his eyes, as if demonstrating he really wanted to go to sleep
now.  She slid deeper underneath the covers, and stretched out her hand
to touch his wrist.  He didn't even blink.  A couple of minutes later
she heard his deep, even breaths and she knew miracles do happen. 


September 18, 4.05 a.m. 
Washington DC, The Marriot Hotel

She felt a hand on her face, slapping her.  Her first instinct was to
push it away and turn around so she could sleep on.  It couldn't have
been morning already, could it ?  The fingers seemed to examine her
face, touching her nose, eyes and lips.  She touched the fingers and
opened her eyes.  Mulder's eyes were open and looking at her.  Even in
the dark she could see their unnatural glance. 

'I thought you were dead,' he croaked.  'You were dead, weren't you ? 
You killed yourself.'

She pushed herself up, sliding off the bed.  'Mulder, you were dreaming.
 I'm right here, you see ?'

'No.  I saw you drop on the concrete floor.  You were dead.' 

'That wasn't real, Mulder.  Linda Bowman made you believe it.  Remember
?  I talked to you afterwards and touched your arm.  I'm right here,
Mulder.'

She touched his forehead.  The heat was tremendous.  'You're burning up,
Mulder.  Let me get you something for the fever.'

She walked over to the bathroom and took a washcloth which she wet with
cold water.  As she lay it on his forehead, she noticed it was after 4. 
How long had he been lying awake like this ?  He tossed and turned as
she touched his shoulder.  Even with the bandages on it, and the T-shirt
over it, she could feel the heat.  He grabbed her hand, pulling her
towards him.  
'We've got to find him today, Scully.  He'll get Joanna today.  I can
feel it.  He's waiting for me somewhere, and I need to find him.' 

'We'll deal with that later, Mulder,' she said firmly.  'You have to
relax, okay ?' 

He sighed as he leant back against the soft pillows.  'I'm tired,
Scully.' 

'I know, Mulder,' she said in sympathy, trying to keep her tears from
floating freely.

She grabbed the phone and dialed the number to Skinner's room.  After a
few seconds he replied with a sleepy 'Skinner'.  She got his attention
immediately.  Within a minute he stood in Mulder's room, dressed in
sweats and T-shirt.  As Skinner opened the door, he saw immediately that
his agent was not doing so well.   Mulder seemed to be enveloped in a
nightmare.  He spoke in his dreams, calling out Scully's name, and then
Samantha's.  
Scully sat down on the side of the bed immediately, trying to soothe
him.

'He shouldn't have been out of the hospital,' she said, angry with
herself.  'He's here because I screwed up.  I should have known he was
faking it.  He always lies when I ask him how he feels.'

'We had no choice in the matter, Scully.  You know that.  Don't hit
yourself for something that couldn't be helped.  Think about what he
needs now.' 

Mulder opened his feverish eyes, clinging to her hand, not seeing her. 
Then he pushed her aside and started getting out of the bed, grabbing
the T-shirt and pants that were on the dresser.  

'Mulder, what are you doing ?' Skinner asked. 

'I gotta go to Chilmark.  I'm late already.  Mom said I'm always too
late.  That's why I gotta go home, you see ?  I gotta take care of
Samantha tonight.  Mom and dad are going to the neighbors.' 

'Samantha's not there, Mulder,' Scully said soothingly, taking the
clothes of his hands.  'You can get some sleep first and we'll go there
in the morning.'

'Uh huh.'  He shook his head fervently.  'You always try to stop me,
Scully.  But not today.  I gotta go.' 
He pulled the clothes from her hands again, looking around, apparently
looking for something.  'Where's the gun ?'

'What gun ?'

'Dad's gun.  I know it's here somewhere.  I gotta learn how to use it
you see.  Dad tried to teach me to shoot, I'm a lousy shot.  I gotta
learn how to shoot so I can stop 'm.  Ah, there it is.'  He grabbed his
gun and holster from the dresser and held them firmly against his chest
with his left hand.  'Can't loose it this time.' 

He headed for the door of his room.  Skinner was at his side in a couple
of seconds, preventing him from leaving.  'Mulder, calm down.  You're
not well.  You need to get some sleep.  We'll go to Chilmark in the
morning.  Just relax now, okay ?' 

'No.  Can't wait.  Samantha's there.  Gotta go.' 

Mulder turned and tried the other door.  Scully was there before him,
talking soothingly to him.  Skinner watched in amazement.  He'd seen
Mulder in several different situations.  He'd been responsible for a few
of those situations.  There were times he didn't believe his agent. 
He'd been attacked by Mulder once.  His agent had been so furious then,
controlled by drugs that damaged his system.  But he'd never seen him
react on a fever-induced rage before.  At the same time he knew this
wasn't just the fever controlling him.  The pressure and fear of the
past days were catching up on him.

Mulder paced the room like an impatient child.  'We gotta go.  Gotta go.
 Scully, we gotta go.'

Scully glanced at her boss.  Skinner understood immediately and took two
steps so he stood besides Mulder.  'Okay, Mulder.  We'll go.  Let me
just get some things from my room okay ?  Why don't you get on the bed
and I'll get your shoes on.  Remember I put your shoes on yesterday ?'

Skinner helped Mulder to take place on the bed, shifting his long legs
forward so she could reach his feet.  If the situation had been
different, she would have laughed.  Now her fingers trembled as she
prepared a syringe with the sedative she dreaded to use.  If needs be,
she'd stick it in his leg this time.  Mulder was back on his feet as she
returned, calling out her name.  'There's no time, Scully ! We gotta
go.' 

'Okay, Mulder.  Just sit down and I'll help you.'

He sat down impatiently.  Scully took a seat beside him.  Skinner moved
forward and grabbed Mulder's left arm, preventing his agent from getting
up and pulling loose as Scully touched his bare left upper arm and
quickly injected him.  Mulder immediately reacted to her, shoving her
aside.  Despite his weakened state he was able to push Skinner away.  

Mulder grasped his arm, standing up and looking at her in amazement. 
Flashes of Pinkett sticking a needle in his shoulder in the alley
outside the hotel.  Scully shooting him in the shoulder.  'What the hell
did you go and do that for ?' he asked with an amazingly young voice. 
He sounded like a child that just got spanked for doing something bad. 

She watched him as he swayed and tried to hold the dresser.  Skinner
quickly stood beside him and grabbed his left arm, shoving it over his
shoulder, thus supporting his agent as he was already slipping into
darkness.  It seemed as if his body had just been waiting for the right
sign to cave in.

'Put him on the bed,' Scully said. 

With a bit of shoving and pushing Mulder was laid back on the bed.  His
eyes were closed, but he opened them as she grabbed a blanket and laid
it over him.  He started shivering.  'He's going into shock,' Scully
said.  'We need to get him back to a hospital.' 

'No !' Mulder grasped her hand, pulling her closer to him.  'No
hospital.  Please Scully.  Don't -'  He blinked his eyes lids, trying to
stay awake, clinging on to the bit of strength he still had.  Eventually
he gave in to a long-overdue unconsciousness. 

Scully sank down on the side of the bed, pulling two more blankets over
her partner's sleeping form.  She touched his forehead, feeling the
still lingering heat.

'What the hell was that ?' Skinner breathlessly asked.  'I've never seen
anything like it.'

 'He's collapsing, sir,' she said slowly.  'Both mentally and
physically.  After everything that happened the past couple of weeks,
he's finally caving in.' 

Skinner watched her as she sat down in a chair and leaned back, not for
once letting her eyes dwell off.  He wondered how many times before she
had done this.  When and how over the past five years she had learnt do
deal with the fact that Mulder always was the one getting in over his
head ?  Or when and how she had become both his best friend, his
partner, and even his surrogate mother.  

'He'll be fine in the morning,' she repeated.  'He just needs to sleep
it off.'

Skinner sunk down in a chair next to her and watched her as her strained
body betrayed every bit of tension she had felt over the past couple of
days.  He remembered how she had fought with Davis to get Mulder off
this case.  How she had argued with him about Mulder's health.  And how
she had lost every time because at the end Mulder was the one taking the
decision for her. 

Skinner closed his eyes and leaned back, listening to her soothing voice
as she repeated continuously :'He'll be fine.' 


September 18, 8.05 a.m.
Washington DC, The Marriot Hotel 

They both were startled by the droning tone of a phone ringing.  Then,
before either one of them had the strength to move and pick it up,
Mulder was already talking to the man on the other line.  Skinner was
even more amazed as Mulder talked continuously, cracking his knuckles in
the process, ignoring the sore right arm, and then hung up.

'That was Davis,' he said, hardly noticing the two figures slumped in
the chairs.  'They still haven't hacked Schreiber's computer.  However,
the Stratego-game has arrived.  We've got to go.'

Scully lifted herself up from the chair and placed her hand on his
forehead.  'What are you doing, Scully?  I'm fine.  I feel great.  Come
on, we gotta go.'  
Impatiently Mulder pushed away her hand and walked to the bathroom with
a dark blue sweater in his hand.  He had already managed to put on his
jeans and socks.  In amazement Skinner noticed his agent's newfound
energy.  He knew that that same energy would die away within minutes,
perhaps hours.

Skinner didn't know how to behave or what to do, until Scully solved
this problem for him.  She smiled as she turned towards her boss. 
'Thanks for staying, sir.  I couldn't have handled this by myself.'

'You're welcome.'  Skinner walked over to the door.  'I'll be back in
ten minutes.  We'll have some breakfast and then get out of here, okay
?'

'Okay.'

A cry for help came out of the bathroom.  Scully heard Mulder's muffled
scream as he opened the door, seemingly struggling with the sweater.  He
had managed to pull it over one arm, but his right shoulder and neck
were so stiff he couldn't move anymore.  Softly she pushed the fabric
over his shoulder, careful not to damage him any further.  'Thanks,
partner,' he grinned.  'Now get dressed.'

She returned to her room, forgot about taking a shower and got dressed
quickly.  When she returned, Mulder was waiting for her to tie his
shoes.  She grinned, despite everything.  

'Next time you get hurt, I'll unzip your dress,' he said, tossing her
hair.

'I don't wear dresses, Mulder.' 

'You'll still need help with your bras.'  She flushed again and let go
of his shoe.  His foot fell with a 'thug' on the floor.  'Don't push
your luck, Mulder.' 

She grabbed his and her coat and pushed him in front of her as they
walked to the elevators. 


September 18, 9.10 p.m. 
Chilmark, Massachusetts. 

He felt like crap.  Pure and simple.  His body felt like it had been
drained of every drop of blood.  But today was the day.  He got himself
out of the bed, sore and aching.  He grabbed the bag and rummaging
through it found the Tylenol he needed so desperately to keep himself
moving.   Damn that bitch for shooting him.   Eagerly he took four of
them, forcing them through his throat with half a bottle of water.  I
hope Mulder is going through the same pain, he thought. 

He grabbed the paper with the girl's address on it and the instructions
Dan had given him.  He should get a move on.  If Dan was talking, he'd
be talking about Chilmark.  He needed to get to the girl before Mulder
got to her.  

He forced himself to relax and push away the pain shooting through his
system.  Yeah, he could do that.  Just forget about the pain and get a
move on.  Get Joanna. 


September 18, 9.45 a.m. 
Washington DC, Federal Bureau of Investigation 

The game lay in front of him, missing five red pieces.  Dan Schreiber
hadn't been lying.  Pinkett would never get around to killing all eight
of them.  He took just as many pieces as he needed.  Mulder took the
four pieces they already had out of the drawer and put them in the right
place.  One of the pieces was still missing.  Joanna's piece.

He touched the plastic.  
'Is it too late for a game of Stratego ?' 

Pinkett wanted to play.  So come out and play, Robert. 

Mulder clasped the tape with Pinkett's confession in his hand and turned
it over and over.  He didn't really want to listen to this.  But if Dan
Schreiber had been telling the truth and Pinkett would forget about the
other girls, she was the only likely candidate left to be murdered.  And
he didn't want another Joanna dead in his arms.  He wanted to save this
one. 


Washington DC, September 30, 1990
Statement Robert David Pinkett, interview by Section Chief Terence Davis
Additional notes on September 18, 1998 by Special Agent Fox Mulder
Current assignment : Violent Crime Section

'You had Joanna planned until the end.  You said you knew we were on to
you ?'

'Yeah.  I wasn't really sure of course, I just kind of felt it you know.
 Like when you're listening to the radio and you just know what song
they're gonna play next. That kind of feeling.  I just knew that it was
coming to an end, all of it.'

'Where did you find her ?'

'I had special plans for Joanna.  I knew her.  Didn't you know ?  She
was the daughter of one of my neighbors when we used to live at the
house.  Before I killed mother.  I moved after I killed her.  I had my
eyes set on her since she was quite the attractive kid.  She was eleven
when I first noticed her, and knew that I wanted to kill her.  It's
almost much more of a pleasure when you kill someone you know.  I felt
that same pleasure when I took her from her home.'

'When did you take her ?'

'Right after school.  I waited until she came home.  I knew both her
folks worked till after 6.  She was home alone every day from 4 till 6. 
She smiled when I rang the bell.  She knew me of course even though the
house has been abandoned for years, and I moved away right after mom
died.   'Rob' she always called me.  She was the only one that ever
called me Rob.  I used to talk to her quite a bit.'

'So she let you in.'

'Yes.  She went to the kitchen to fetch me a cup of coffee, and I took
injected her before she knew what happened.  I lifted her up and brought
her to the car.  A neighbor across the street saw me, recognized me and
came after me.  There was a Fed there as well but I only knew that until
later.  You were following me already, weren't you ?'

'Yes.' 

'I had a hunch I might have been followed but I didn't do anything about
it.  I wanted an audience for this one, to go out with a bang, you know.
 After all, what's the use of being a serial killer when no one knows
your name ?  So I brought her to the warehouse, and tied her up with the
tape.  I watched her wake up, and then Mulder came.' 

'Did you intend to kill her, despite Mulder's plead not to ?'

'Oh yeah.  He wasn't gullible or anything.  He really tried hard, was
persuasive.  But I had my mind set on killing her, so I did.'

'Why did you shoot Mulder too ?'

'I don't know.' (laughter)  'I enjoyed watching the look on his face. 
But you know, even when I pulled that trigger, I could see he wasn't
frightened for his own life.  He was frightened for the girl.  I think
he would have given his life to save her.  Yeah, I think he would.  But
at the end, even Mulder didn't understand it.  The need to tell the
world about me and my actions.  He should have understood, but he
didn't.  Such a shame for him.'

'Why ?'

'Because one day I'll come back for him and let him suffer for it.  He
should have paid more attention, you know.  But he didn't.  So I'll have
to find a way to get him to pay attention to me.  After all, I deserve
that much, don't you think ?' 



September 18, 9.45 a.m. 
Washington DC, Federal Bureau of Investigation

AD Davis turned off the tape and looked at Mulder.  'We've got
something.  Mrs. Schreiber just called.  Said she received a letter from
her son this morning.  Apparently Dan has sent her a letter confessing
everything.  There's a list of names attached to it.'

Mulder grabbed his coat and winced as his shoulder refused to move
along.  He bit his lip, ignoring the pain and pulling his left hand
through the sleeve.  The right side sort of dangled.  Davis walked over
to him and put it over his shoulder.  'Let's go.'

Skinner's car never drove faster.  Within ten minutes (and a lot of
life-staking moments in morning traffic) they were at Mrs. Schreiber's
house.  The woman looked awfully pale as she handed Skinner the note her
son had left for her. 

'It's all there,' Skinner said, quickly reading through the letter. 
'His whole confession.'  

As he turned the page, he quickly scanned the names.  'The families of
these girls need to be protected immediately,' he said, turning to
Weinstein.  'Make it so.'

'Yes, sir.' 

Mulder's eyes fell on the last name at the bottom of the list.  A name
he had heard not so very long ago.
'Jesus Christ.' 

'What ?  What is it ?'  Scully immediately stood besides him, reading
the name that didn't seem familiar to her. 

'Joanna Paris.  She lives in Chilmark, Massachusetts.  She's - Her
family - They're our nextdoor-neighbours.  Before.  When we lived in
Chilmark.  Dad moved to Martha's Vineyard afterwards - after Samantha. 
They still live there.  I remember mom talking about them over the phone
last week.  She said it was painful to see how much Joanna looked like
Samantha.  Jesus.  I never thought of Joanna.  Haven't seen her in over
a year.  She was just a kid back then - she still is just a kid -' 

'Robert Pinkett's last victim was his neighbor,' Scully confirmed.  'Now
he's going after yours.'

'If he hurts her.  Or her parents.  Bob and Linda, we've got to warn
them.  Bob used to be a good friend when we went to high school
together.  If something happens to that girl - Damn him !' Mulder threw
the letter on the floor and left the house, sucking in deep breaths of
air.  He could hardly breathe as his lungs eagerly searched for air. 
Everything went dizzy around him.  He bent over slightly and tried to
move his legs, to stop the dizziness.  Scully came immediately after
him, supporting his back.

'We need to call them now,' Mulder said.  'It may already be too late.'

'Skinner's arranging a flight to Boston right now.  We'll be there in a
couple of hours.  He's arranging for the local police to drive over to
the house and check on them.  They'll be fine, Mulder.  Pinkett has
slowed down due to his injuries.  He won't get to them in time.' 

'They're dead.'

'Mulder, you don't know that.  They could be fine.' 

'No, they're dead,' he maintained stubborn.  'He's taken their kid and
killed them.' 

Impatiently he paced around, reminding her of his feverish dreams only a
few hours before.  His mood swings worried her, as did his inability to
focus his eyes on anything.  He looked like he could drop at any time. 
He was just waiting for the cue. 

Skinner walked outside in deep discussion with Davis.  He looked
frowning at his agents.  'We've tried to reach your friends by
telephone, Mulder.  There wasn't an answer, but that doesn't mean
anything.  The police is on their way.'

'We're too late - again.  They're gone,' Mulder said with an uneven
voice.  'I can feel it.'

Skinner put his hand on his agent's shoulder.  Mulder looked at him as
he said :'You've done well so far, Mulder.  You're holding on.  Don't
croak on me now, okay ?  We'll find Pinkett soon.'

The surprised look on Mulder's face was enough to have Skinner kick
himself mentally.  He should really give his agent more compliments and
support.  It was obvious Mulder wasn't used to it.  

'I won't croak, sir,' Mulder said softly. 

'I know you won't.  We've got to get to the airport immediately. 
There's a flight leaving for Boston in half an hour and they're holding
it for us.' 

As they walked over to the car, Mulder said :'He's got her at my
father's old house in Chilmark.  He wants to finish his game where
Samantha and I left it, in '74.  Damn it ! I should have figured it out.
 I never thought he would - how the hell did Schreiber find out about
Joanna ?'

'We're pretty sure Dan's been following you around for quite a bit.  The
envelope contained a number of photos taking from you and agent Scully. 
He's probably ran a background check on you, and thus found out one of
your neighbors had a daughter whom Pinkett could use for his revenge.  I
think that at this point it didn't really matter whether or not she
resembled Samantha,' Terence Davis said calmly.  'But we've got a chance
to stop him now, Mulder.  Think about that.'

Scully gently pushed her partner in the back seat of Skinner's car,
letting him slide against the back.  His legs seemed to long to fit in
between the seats but at the end there was room enough.  She got in on
the other side, and watched as Skinner raced like a madman to the
airport. 



September 18, 11.05 a.m. 
Washington DC, Dulles International Airport

The run through the departure hall exhausted Mulder.  He could hardly
keep up with the others.  His heart beat like crazy.  He was sweating
from the short distance they had to run to get to gate 10.  Skinner
waved his badge, talked swiftly with the stewardess, and let her take
them to their seats.  The flight left ten minutes later as planned. 

Mulder didn't protest when Scully sat him down between her and Skinner,
buckling him up.  She lay her cool hand on his forehead and looked
worried when the heat touched her fingers.  'Leave it there, Scully,' he
said as he closed his eyes.  'It feels great.' 

'She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, opening her small, leather bag. 
'Mulder, I want you to take these.'

He opened his eyes to check out the small blue tablets.  'They're
painkillers.  You'll feel fuzzy but they won't put you to sleep. 
They'll help for the pain and fever.' 

He took them from her hand and swallowed them, drinking some water.  He
shifted in his seat until he found a pose somewhere between leaning on
his side against the seat and resting against Scully's shoulder. 
Luckily she sat on his left side.  He couldn't possibly imagine leaning
against his boss like that.

'Hmm Scully,' he said as he sniffled in her neck.  'Smells like Teen
Spirit.' 

He could actually feel her smile.  'You always knew I was a Nirvana-fan,
didn't you ?'

'I figured you might fall for Dave Grohl,' he slurred as his voice died
away.  'Maybe I should grow my hair longer.' 

She brushed aside the hair falling on his forehead, and looked over him
at Skinner.  A few minutes later she realized he wasn't just sleeping. 
He was unconscious. 

Part XI : Joanna 

September 18, 11.45 a.m. 
Chilmark, Massachusetts

Pinkett looked down on the little girl.  She wasn't unconscious but not
moving either.  Her scared little face begged for mercy.  He had her
taped up.  Her legs and arms were non-responsive.  He had put her in the
back of his trunk and brought her to his safe little harbor.  

The old Mulder-residence had been abandoned and empty for years.  He
knew no one had been here for quite some time, not since that night,
when the daughter of the house vanished, and her older brother witnessed
it all. 

Dan had told him the parents were divorced since.  They both lived in
Martha's Vineyard, but there was also a small vacation house in
Quononchontaug.  Schreiber had told him Mulder had tried to kill himself
there.  Undergoing a strange treatment had nearly cost him his life.

Always knew you were suicidal, Mulder.  Is that why you like playing
with guns ? 

He tore off the tape from the girl's lips.  She cried out in pain and
started licking her lips.  Her saliva would help softening the pain of
the torn skin.  She tried to talk but nearly choked as she scraped her
dry throat.

'My mom and dad,' the girl whispered.  'Where are my mom and dad ?'

'They aren't dead, if that's what you want to know,' he smiled.  'Don't
worry, Joanna.  I've kept them alive to do you a favor.  You see ?'

The girl cried bitter tears.  'I want to go home.' 

He knelt down in front of her, and touched her hair with his warm hand. 
'Do you know someone called Fox Mulder ?'

She thought for a moment and then nodded.  'Fox always comes to play
with me.  When I was younger.  He's nice.  He always calls me Samantha
and then he remembers and calls me Joanna.'

'Do you know why he calls you Samantha ?'

'Because he has a sister.  She looks like me.'

'Have you seen a picture of her ?'

The girl nodded.  

'She looks a lot like you, doesn't she ?'

'Yes, but I am taller than she, and I have other eyes like her.' 

He smiled.  'You're a bright young girl, Joanna.  Fox will be here soon
and he'll come and get you out of here.'

'Why am I here ?' she sighed as she shed tears again.  'I just want to
go home.  My mom and dad are next door.  I don't like it here.'

'Just a few moments longer, little Joanna.  Just a little bit more.' 
He sank down on a chair and stared at his blood-soaked sweater. 


September 18, 12.15 p.m. 
Boston International Airport, Massachusetts 

'Mulder, come on, partner.  Wake up.' 

He felt a soft patting against his cheek and opened his eyes to see a
bunch of faces above him.  He was lying down.  Where the hell was he ? 
He recognized the insides of a plane.  Oh boy, he'd passed out in a
plane ?  No wonder everyone looked at him like he was from outer space. 
He moaned as he tried to get up.  Immediately hands were there to
support him.  He'd been lying on a blanket in the back of the plane. 
They weren't flying anymore.  Everything seemed extraordinary quiet.  He
swayed as someone pushed his head down.  The dizziness passed. 

'What the hell did you give me, Scully ?' he croaked. 

'It wasn't the meds, Mulder.  I guess you thought it was time for
another nap.'  She supported him, feeling his pulse.  'You shouldn't
even be walking around here.  The moment we nail Pinkett you are going
straight to hospital.  Your temperature is high, Mulder.  Every moment I
let you walk around, is causing you further damage.' 

Annoyed he wanted to tell her to stop mothering him, but hey, she was
touching him again all over.  How could he object with that ? 

'Do you need help getting off the plane, Mulder ?' 

Mulder turned towards Skinner, and saw a few men in blue waiting to grab
in where necessary.  A couple of stewardesses watched him in
anticipation. 

'No, I'm fine -' he started and put a few steps forward.  The world
immediately turned black again.  

'O-kay,' Skinner said, persuasively pulling Mulder's left arm over his
shoulder, supporting his agent in the back.  'Let's go.' 

Completely embarrassed by the situation Mulder had no choice but to go
along with his boss.  After all, Skinner was the strongest of the both
of them, and at least he wasn't injured. 
Mulder stretched his back a little and tried to get his legs to move. 
Finally they did as he asked them silently, and the party left the
plane. 

Mulder breathed in the fresh air of Boston.  He had managed to persuade
Skinner he would make it through the hall by himself.  His feet had
obeyed him as he firmly stepped forward, eager not to show Scully he was
about to drop out cold on the floor. 

Two cars were waiting for them at the exit.  Scully got in the first one
with him.  Skinner and Davis took the second one.  'A call came in while
you were out, Mulder,' his partner said seriously.  'Pinkett has somehow
gained access to the Paris' house and taken the girl.'

'Bob and Linda.  Are they - ?'

'No.  Luckily not.  He locked them in the basement.  Bob got a nasty
bump on the head.  Apparently he tried to prevent Pinkett from taking
the girl.  But they're both fine.  We've taken them to a hospital to be
checked out.  They couldn't tell us anything more, except that Pinkett
seemed badly injured, which might work in our advance.' 

'He's at my old man's house,' Mulder said with confidence.   
Scully watched her partner carefully, as he leaned back and sighed.  'I
hate that house.  It's been hell ever since Samantha .. left.  My father
argued with her night and day.  She was so angry at him.  I didn't
understand it all at the time - thought they were angry at me for
letting her go.  But she was angry at him for giving her up.  I know
that now.  He gave her up and let me stay so I could find out what
happened to her.' 

'And you are finding out, Mulder.  So it's been worth it.'

'He sacrificed her, Scully ! How can that be a good thing ?' 

'She's still alive, isn't she ?  You're still alive.  You're doing
exactly what he told you to do.' 

'And now someone else is taking advantage of it.  If that girl dies,
Scully.  I don't know what I'll do.  I couldn't stand for it.'

'Mulder.'  She put her fingers under his unshaved chin and forced him to
look at her.  His tormented eyes had trouble focusing on her, but they
did.  'The girl is still alive and we are going to get her out of there.
 Trust in that.  You went on the ice to get me out of that hell.  If you
can do that, you can save her.' 

'Yeah.  I can.' 

'Good.'  She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips, finishing
the kiss they hadn't been able to finish weeks before.  He savored her
taste for a while, then pulled back reluctantly.  'Keep that thought in
mind, Scully,' he said slowly.   


September 18, 2.05 p.m. 
Chilmark, Massachusetts 

He saw them coming through the windows of the old house.  It was time to
meet Mulder again, but the game wouldn't be finished here.  He would
finish it somewhere else, without this audience.  The cars were plenty. 
He waited until he saw the two Federal cars.  He could spot them from a
distance.  Several people got out.  A woman with red hair.  And a man,
looking so exhausted and under extreme pressure Pinkett nearly smiled. 
He had been hurt just as much as he had.  Maybe they would die together
now. 

Mulder didn't know how Skinner had arranged it, but there were snipers
everywhere. The problem only was no one could get a clear look at the
house.  The building was surrounded by trees and covered with untrimmed
bushes.  They would never get a lock on Pinkett without risking hurting
the girl.
A man in black uniform walked up to Skinner and introduced himself as
Tom Gallagher. 

'We're going to need a detailed map on the house, Mulder,' Skinner said.
 Mulder looked up as if he hadn't heard his boss, and then slightly
shook his head.  'Of course.'  

Someone gave him a pen and a piece of paper.  Mulder swiftly sketched
the layout and gave it back.  
'He'll most likely be sitting in the front living room,' Mulder said
hesitant.  'He'll have a view on us from there, and he'll be ready to
use the girl as a shield at any time.  There's no way you'll get her out
without getting her killed.  I need to get in there.  He's waiting for
me.'

Mulder took off his holster and gun and gave it to Gallagher.  'Save
that for me, will you ?'

'Sure.'

Scully stopped him as he made a move to leave the shelter behind the
car.  'No, Mulder,' she said firmly.  'If you go in there, you'll give
him what he wants.  You'll be dead before you even know it.'

'She's right, Mulder,' Skinner agreed.  'You're staying put.' 

Mulder quietly watched them as they watched him, giving in to their
wishes.  He nodded his head.  'Okay.  You're probably right.'  The next
second he was already moving towards the door, using all his strength to
leap forward towards the front door of his old house.  

'Mulder !' Skinner heard his female partner scream as she ran after him.
 She was fast, but not as fast as Skinner as he pulled her back, in one
second preventing her from being shot.  The shattered glass in the front
window was the result of one single gunshot, neatly passing Mulder as he
opened the front door.  Then the bullet made its impact in Skinner's
rental car.  Scully could actually hear the bullet pass beside her. 
Skinner forced her against his body, not letting go of her as he brought
her to safety.  As she looked up, tears rolled from her eyes at the
knowledge that her partner was in there and there was not a goddamn
thing she could do about it. 

'Lock the door behind you, agent Mulder.'

Mulder turned the key and walked into the living room of the dark house.
 Pinkett stood in front of him, keeping the barrel of the gun to the
temple of the girl's head.  His pale, sweating face only gave a glimpse
of the pain he was struggling with.  Mulder immediately knew the man was
in need of immediate medical help, but would not request it.  He'd
rather die than to return to death row.

'Hey, Joanna,' Mulder said as he shifted his weight a bit, and knelt
down in front of her, holding his right arm steady against his chest,
resting it in the sling. 

'Hey, Fox,' she said with a scared voice.

'Your mom and dad are at home waiting for you.  What do you say if we
went to see them ?  Would you like that ?'

'Yes.'  She nodded her head.
'Good.  Why don't you curl up in a little ball and lie down on the floor
for a bit ?  Pretend like you're sleeping.  Remember how we used to play
that game when you were younger ?  You would sleep and I would tickle
you awake ?'

'Yes.' 

'I'll tickle you awake in a while, Joanna.  Just .. Just lie down and
curl up, okay ?'

'Okay.'  Joanna's ankles and hands were still tied as she silently slid
on the floor, and closed her eyes, shutting her eyelids as if she was
sleeping.  Mulder got up and stared into Pinkett's eyes.  Swiftly he
checked on the man's condition.  The side of his sweater was
blood-soaked.  He breathed heavily.  His right hand trembled as he held
the gun on Mulder's face.  Anything could bring that trigger to go off
now.  

'As you can see I have faired not well,' Robert said, licking his dry
lips. 

'You're dying, Robert.  Was it worth it ?'

'Oh yeah.  I enjoyed every minute of it.  How's the shoulder, Mulder ?'

'Sore.' 

'I'll bet.  Your right arm, hey ?  Bet you can't even hold a gun right
now.'

'No.  There's no way I can shoot you.'

'So you didn't bring a gun with you ?'

'No.' 

'That a boy.  You're still a smuck ambitious little profiler, Mulder. 
You haven't changed over the years.'
'I have changed,' Mulder said.  'It's bastards like you that force me to
go back in the past and deal with it.' 

'Where's the game, Mulder ?'

'I don't have it.' 

'I told you to bring the game with you.  How can we play for Joanna's
life when it's not here ?'

'I thought you might prefer the original thing,' Mulder softly said. 
'My dad left everything that Samantha ever got right here in the house. 
He didn't want anything to do with it after she was gone.  He couldn't
even look at her picture.  The game is still here, somewhere upstairs,
in her old room.'

'Then why don't you go and get it for me ?' 

'No.  I'm not going to play for her life.  If you want to kill her, do
it now and get it over with.  But don't put either of us through this.' 

Pinkett looked utterly surprised at his comments.  He had started this
game only six days ago but they both looked ten years older, and oh so
tired.  Pinkett felt like sitting down now.  He sat down, slumping his
body on a chair, ready to fall out if necessary.  Mulder still stood
awkwardly quiet, taking in his form. 

'Is this where it happened, Mulder ?' Pinkett said, waving the gun. 
'Dan printed out your version of the facts and sent it to me.  I read
every single detail of it.  The light you claimed took your sister. 
Wouldn't it have been easier for you to say she had been taken by a
serial killer ?  You thought for a while John Roche killed her, didn't
you ?  I liked Roche.  Checked up on him too.  Too bad you killed him. 
Shot his brains out, didn't you ?  Did you like shooting his brains out
?'

'He got what he deserved.  As you will get what you deserve.' 

Mulder swayed, grasping the edge of the table with his left hand.  He
was vaguely aware of the state his body was in.  It would have to happen
fast now, before he gave in to the darkness.  Pinkett didn't seem aware
of it. 

'You reached for your father's gun, didn't you ?  But you froze,
panicked I presume.  You weren't able to move because of the light.  Do
you believe in it, Mulder ?  Was it worth giving up your career for your
little sister ?'

'It was worth every bit of what I've been through,' Mulder said with the
conviction he had found again on the ice.  'I've seen the evidence and I
know what to believe.'

Pinkett smiled as if he didn't really care.   'Did your dad leave his
gun here as well ?'

'No.'  Mulder swallowed.  'That's about the only thing he did take.  I
guess he wanted to use it on himself.'

'Did he ?'

'No.'

'But he is dead.'

'Yeah.'

'How did he die ?'

'He was murdered by the men that took my sister.'

'And you feel responsible for that too, don't you ?  Like you feel
responsible for everything that's happened in your life.  Your father's
gone because you started searching for whatever truth you wanted to
find.  And your partner suffered for it too, didn't she ?  Dan told
she'd been sick some time ago.  Can't have kids anymore.  Too bad.  I'm
sure she wanted to have kids.  Are you responsible for that too, Mulder
?'

Mulder sat down silently.  'Responsibility is something only the sane of
us know about.  It's facing up to your facts and taking charge for what
you did.' 

'A nice and noble gesture, agent Mulder.  But not fitting in this case,
I'm afraid.  After all, I am insane, aren't I ?'

'No, Robert.  You know what you did.  That makes you a very sane person.
 So did Dan, and he paid for it.'

'Where is he ?  Where is my big brother ?  Did he tell you where to find
me ?'

'Dan is dead, Robert.  He killed himself.'

Pinkett's hand shivered as he put the gun to Mulder's face.  The agent
didn't budge.  He imagined sitting under the stars with Scully.  Looking
at the ones that fascinated him the most.  Her hand in his, both of them
staring at the darkness of the night.  Would he ever touch her again and
tell her that he loved her ?  He would never get the chance.  

Robert sobbed.  'You're lying.' 

'Why would I lie ?  He couldn't live with the consequences of his
actions, Robert.' 

The girl sobbed at Pinkett's feet.  Tears rolled over her cheeks. 
Pinkett bent down and lifted her in his arms.  'Now don't you cry,' he
said.  'Fox is here to take you home, aren't you, Fox ?'

'Yes.'  Mulder swallowed away the lump as he stretched out his arms and
invited her to come to him.  Pinkett let go of her, and watched her as
she slid off his lap and tried to get to Mulder.  He lifted her up,
ignoring the sore pain in his shoulder.  Her ankles were still tied
together.  She wouldn't be able to move an inch.  He would never get her
to safety. 

'Why don't you let her go, Robert ?  She doesn't deserve to die like
this, but I do.  Let her go and I'll make sure you'll get out of the
country.  You want out of here ?  I'll drive you.  I'll take you
anywhere you want to go, but don't force her to be in this.'

'No,' Robert said thoughtfully.  'We are going to take that little
drive, Mulder.  But she's coming with us.  She's my insurance that you
won't pull a stunt on me.  I'm sure your boss will lend us a car, won't
he ?  I don't like it here, it's too crowded.  I want to finish this
between the two of us.  So let's go.' 

Mulder still held the girl in his arms.  She sobbed now continuously. 
Her life lay in his hands and her big eyes stared at him in quiet,
desperate fear.  He could feel her shiver as he held her body close to
his, savoring the touch of her young body.  He could easily close his
eyes and pretend it was Samantha, but right now it was Joanna that
needed him.  She needed him, and no one else was going to be able to
save her.  

'Get on your feet, Mulder.  I want you to call your boss and tell him
we'll need a car at the back of the house.  You brought your phone,
didn't you ?'

'Yes.' 

'Do it.  Tell them to keep a distance.  I don't want to see any cars
within 300 yards.  If they need to follow, they can, but I don't want
them damn cars sticking in my butt, got it ?'

Mulder felt Pinkett approach him as he put the girl on the floor and
took out his cell phone to call Skinner.  In short breaths he assured
his boss he and the girl were fine, and that Pinkett wanted a car around
the back of the house.  Then he hung up, confirming Pinkett he would get
what he wanted. 
A few moments later the roar of a car engine was heard around the back
of the house.  

'Bring the girl, Mulder,' Pinkett said, almost pushing the barrel of the
gun in Mulder's ear.  'We're going for that drive now.' 

Robert held his left hand over the wound on his side, pushing against
it, as if able to withdraw himself from the pain that shot through his
dying form.  But his hand seemed more firm now as he grabbed Mulder's
right arm, forcing a moan of pain out of the agent.  Mulder slid his arm
from the sling and forced himself to ignore the stabbing pain in his
body as he lifted the girl from the floor.  She clung to him again, as
if he was her lifeline.  He heard her sobs.  

It's okay, Samantha, he thought.  It's okay, Joanna.  I won't let you
slip away this time.   Not this time. 
Mulder's left hand carefully opened the back door, to look at the
snipers, ready to take out Pinkett.  They moved openly, knowing that
their presence might scare him off.  But Pinkett didn't even twitch as
he took over the girl and forced the barrel of the gun against her face.
 Mulder debated whether or not to go for it, forcing the three of them
on the cold ground.  But one wrong move and the girl in between them
would mean the end of her.  And he couldn't live with another vision of
dead blue eyes staring accusingly at him, and a dead body forcing blood
on his hands. 

The snipers could not get a lock on Pinkett without the risk of hurting
the girl.  They were powerless as Pinkett pushed his back against the
car, forcing them to make way. 

'Get in the car, Mulder.  'You're driving.' 

Pinkett knew exactly how to use the girl as a shield.  He got in on the
back seat, keeping the girl close to him, still aiming the gun at her
face.  He then started moving the gun in between them, continuously
shifting it between Mulder and the girl.  

'Where are we going ?' Mulder asked as he started the car.

'A peaceful place.'

As they left the site, Mulder could hear other engines roar as the
others followed them towards an unknown destiny.


September 18, 2.45 p.m. 
Chilmark, Massachusetts

For a while nothing in the car was heard except for Scully's sharp
breathing.  Skinner could actually hear her restraint not to grab her
gun and blow out a tire from the runaway car.  And he knew she was
cursing Mulder silently for taking the risk she didn't want him to take.

Skinner could not help but feel nothing but the outmost respect for his
agent.  During the night he had been like a sick and helpless child,
begging them to go and save his sister.  Sick with fever, overwhelmed by
dazzling memories that had started 24 years ago, 

Now he was the self-assured FBI-agent that would go to any lengths to
save a little girl's life.  Skinner knew he would take all the risks he
had to take to save Joanna.  Even if it would end his own.  Mulder had
told Skinner about his thoughts on that ice, when he saw the ship take
off.  He had turned towards Scully and begged her to see it.  'You've
gotta see this, Scully !' he had proudly said, as if he had been the one
burying that ship in the ice.  Scully had told Skinner she had seen
something, but had been too far gone to actually identify it for what it
was.  Skinner figured that - even though she had seen it - she would
probably not tell her partner that she now believed.  Scully was a
scientist.  She needed to find out for herself. 

But now she was sitting in the car, biting her lip, perhaps tasting the
words on her lips she had not been able to tell her partner.   He drove
one of the rental cars.  Without argument he had been handed the keys
and simply got in and drove 300 yards behind his agent, just like
Pinkett had requested.
They were the first car behind the runaway vehicle.  Behind them others
were driving just as fast, following the runaway vehicle without being
able to intervene.  It was goddamn frustrating.  

Mulder drove fast yet safe.  He knew these roads.  If only he was able
to make a call and let them know where they were headed.  

Police vehicles came from up ahead with flashlights and sirens.  A
roadblock was being put up to stop Pinkett and Mulder from escaping.

Then, suddenly, Scully grabbed Skinner's arm and he heard her shout
:'The car's going off the road ! They're heading for the river !' 

And Skinner saw the Taurus as it indeed left the main road and headed
straight on for the river. The same moment something of a struggle was
going on inside the vehicle, and one single gunshot shattered the
windshield.  The car lost its balance, slipped against rocks and wet
grass, and tumbled before crashing head down in the water.  


September 18, 2.45 p.m. 
Chilmark, Massachusetts

'There's not a chance in hell you'll get out of this alive, Robert,'
Mulder said.  'Not as long as you got the girl.  Why don't you let her
go so there's something left to gain by all of this ?'

'I don't intend to live, Mulder,' Pinkett said.  'Now shut up or I'll
shut your mouth for you.' 

Pinkett rested against the back seat, innocently caressing the girl's
long hair as she sat beside him, still bonded with the duct tape.  

'Fuck !' Pinkett yelled as he saw the two police cars set up a
roadblock.  'Get off the road here, now !'

Mulder hesitated.  Pinkett let go of the girl and pushed himself forward
between the two seats, pulling at the steering wheel while pushing the
gun against Mulder's temple.  The car slid off the main road, crashing
down the riverbank.  

Mulder knew that they would hit the water at any second now, giving
Pinkett the chance to shoot them both before the vehicle made water. 
Mulder felt the force of Pinkett's moves.  Then, for one single moment,
the gun did not point at his temple.  Mulder let go of the steering
wheel and gripped the barrel of the gun firmly.  Pinkett struggled hard,
pulling the trigger in the process.  The bullet shattered the
windshield, taking bits and pieces of glass with it. 

Mulder felt the barrel of the gun hit his temple rock hard, knocking the
wind out of him.  He slumped as the car hit a rock and tumbled, losing
its balance on the slick bank. 

Then another sharp pain entered his side.  He was vaguely aware of
another shot, before Pinkett finally dropped the gun.  The weapon slid
between the two front seats and slumped back, protecting himself as the
vehicle crashed rock hard, upside down, in the water.

The car tilted over.  Mulder felt the airbag explode in his face. 
Joanna screamed as she was bounced between the front- and back seat. 
Then her cries stopped and she became silent. 

Pinkett's head hit the glass of the door so hard the glass splintered
and cracked.  Pieces of glass flew around, entering the car.  Mulder
could feel one of them grazing his right lower arm, but he was numb to
the pain. 

Mulder was vaguely aware of the ice-cold water filling up the car
immediately.  He was stuck between the front seat and the steering
wheel.  The metal pushed against his torso and legs, trapping him.  The
car was still moving, now slowly turning on his side as it sank fast. 

Mulder's ice-cold, cramped fingers struggled with the seatbelt that kept
him prisoner as the water surrounded him, slowly forcing all the air out
of the car.  He could hardly move.  He couldn't free himself.  The car
sunk.

He strained his neck to look in the back.  Pinkett's face rested against
the window.  Mulder could see the blood on his face, torso and arms. 
Then his eyes caught the piece of glass from the shattered window,
forced in Pinkett's right eye.  His left eye was open.  He was dead. 

Mulder's hand found the body of the girl between the front- and back
seat.  He strained himself to touch her neck and throat, to find her
pulse.  He could feel it ! He had to get out of here, to get her out. 
Then the last bit of air escaped from the vehicle, and he filled his
lungs with air, before the car made its final descend. 

'Mulder !' Scully shouted as loud as she could, as the car sunk in the
dark and cold water.  Skinner had already removed his coat and suit
jacket, and was kicking out his shoes.  He wasn't the only one preparing
to descend in the water and get his agent and the girl out.  He couldn't
care less about Pinkett.  He gave Scully his glasses which she tucked in
her pocket without thinking.  Then he slowly made his way to the river,
and breathed heavily as the cold water enveloped him. 

Scully noticed several agents and cops, and ever snipers as they
prepared to dive and find the car.  Skinner swam with fast, steady
streaks, ignoring the coldness of the water.  The car had drifted to the
middle of the river before going down.  The current was strong, but
wouldn't take the vehicle with it as long as it hadn't filled up with
water.  Scully wanted to go with them, to find her partner and save him,
but Skinner stopped her.  
'No,' he said.  'If they need medical attention, you have to be ready. 
Get as many paramedics here as you can.  There's no time to get divers
here.' 

She got on the phone, dialing the emergency number, stating the urgency
of her request.  The hospital of Quononchontaug would send three
ambulances, prepared with a hypothermic kit.  Then she stood at the
river bank, finally biting her fingernails as she watched Skinner dive
for the car.  Suddenly Terence Davis stood besides her, and put his arm
over her shoulders, giving her silent comfort as they both watch the
scenery develop. 

Mulder instantly saw the men as they approached the vehicle from the
outside.  They were there the moment the water swallowed the rest of the
vehicle.  Mulder tried to lower his window, but wasn't able to.  The
electric mechanism didn't function anymore.  His hand pulled the door
handle, trying to get it to open.  The twisted and torn metal prevented
this.

 Two men forced open the backside door, pulling the child out.  Her eyes
were open now, she struggled against them, trying to get air in her
lungs.  Mulder strained his neck to see her in safety.  Then he
concentrated on getting open his own door.  Skinner and another agent
pulled his door until it finally gave way.  

Other men came and started pulling Mulder's legs to free him.  Skinner's
lungs were about to burst.  He went for the surface, breathing heavily
as he forced air in his lungs.  He saw several cars arriving now.  The
girl was nearly on shore.  Scully waited for her with a couple of
blankets, ready to take care of her.  Skinner took in all the air he
could force into his lungs and dove again.  Instantly he saw that his
agent went limp, not able to withhold the water from his lungs.  His
eyes closed, but before Skinner saw the panic in them.  Then his hands
did not move anymore, and his face slowly slumped forward until it
touched the steering wheel.

They had to get Mulder out immediately, but his legs were stuck between
the metal and the front seat.  Suddenly his legs popped loose, and as
Skinner grabbed his arm, he slid out of the car, his body limp against
Skinner's chest.  Others grabbed Mulder's right arm and legs, and the
agent was brought to the surface, supported by several of them. 

Skinner's lungs eagerly took in the air he so desperately needed, but he
knew there was not time to savor this moment.  Mulder was like a log in
his arms, none responsive to the calls for his name.  Several men in the
water helped Skinner bring his agent to shore, lifting him a bit of his
burden. 

It seemed to take forever to get Mulder to shore, but then other hands
took over, pulling the agent on the river bank.  Immediately Scully was
there, feeling his pulse, checking his breath.

'He's not breathing,' she said.  In her words lay all the pain and fear
she had felt over the past couple of days.  Her worst nightmare was
coming true.  This was what she had feared all along.   Her hands
touched his body all over, checking out injuries.  Blood on his face,
already accompanied with bruises, his legs scarred and forced, and the
blood.  Oh god, the blood, she thought, pulling back Mulder's sweater,
revealing her fear.  One single entry wound to his right side, bleeding
like a bitch. 

Somewhere down the line Skinner was besides her.  She heard shouts and
agents and cops all around her.  Someone pushed a rag in her hands. 
'Here,' she said, grabbing Skinner's hands.  'Push this on the wound. 
Make sure the bleeding stops.  We'll have to deal with that later.'

She returned to Mulder's soaking wet face, pushing the wet hair from his
face, touching his cheeks and throat and eyes.  Then she tilted his
head, opening his mouth to see if something blocked the airway.  When it
didn't, she blew air in his lungs by forcing her mouth over his. 
Someone had positioned himself besides her and massaged Mulder's heart. 
She couldn't recall afterwards how long this continued.  

In the back she heard the girl cry.  A female agent had set her in a
car, drying her off with a few warm blankets.   

Then suddenly they were there, taking over.  Gratefully she let herself
be pushed aside to let the paramedics do their work.  She didn't want to
leave Mulder's side though.  She wanted to continue breathing air in
him, but mechanical features took over now.

Suddenly, as she released him, he coughed and wheezed, and tried to turn
on his side to let all the water of his lungs, as much as he could. 
Carefully he was placed on his side and he coughed until she thought he
had coughed out his lungs.  He was barely alive when a collar was placed
around his neck, and experienced hands started examining his body for
further damage.  

Skinner was still holding the rag on the wound.  His clamped hands did
not seem to be able to let go. 
'You have to let go now, sir,' one of the paramedics said, trying to
lift Skinner's hand.  The AD suddenly seemed aware of his surroundings
and let go.  He shivered in his wet clothes.  Scully quickly grabbed a
blanket and placed it over his shoulders.  He smiled in relief. 

As Mulder was prepped for transfer, Scully quickly scanned the
surroundings, noticing at least ten agents in wet clothes and shivering
from the cold water.  It was only then that she realized how close to an
end everything had come.  She turned towards the gurney Mulder was
placed on, now with an oxygen mask over his face, still not able to
focus on this reality, and sobbed.  

Skinner's arms were around her, comforting her, and she felt the wet
shirt as he held her.  It'll be alright, she thought.  It'll be alright.


'There's room for two,' the paramedic said, scanning the situation. 
Joanna was already in the other ambulance, with the female agent looking
after her.  

'You two go,' Davis said, pushing Scully and Skinner forward.  'Walter,
give me your keys.  We'll come to the hospital.  They all need some dry
clothes instantly.' 

Skinner didn't object as he waited until Scully had taken place before
joining her.  As the doors closed he watched his agent as she took
Mulder's ice cold hands between hers, and told him with a firm yet
soothing voice that everything would be alright now.   That it wasn't
time to say goodbye yet.


September 18, 5.45 p.m. 
Quononchontaug Local Hospital, Massachusetts 

'Sir.'  

Scully placed a cup of coffee between Skinner's still cold hands.  Even
though he had taken a long, hot shower and changed in warm clothes
someone had given him, he just couldn't get warm.  He had been checked
out quickly, just like the others who had taken the risk of trying to
save Mulder. 

'Thanks, Dana.'  
She became aware of the fact he used her first name with ease now.  When
he had comforted her, it had only seem natural.  He was their boss, but
he was also their friend. 

She sat down next to him, scanning the corridor they were seated at. 
The place was still crowded with people, waiting for a sign on Mulder's
condition.  They were all dressed in the same manner, grateful to be
wearing warm clothes after the ice cold water.  Davis was around
somewhere, but he'd been on the phone with the Bureau constantly,
explaining the situation.  He had also arranged for the towing of the
Taurus, and the transfer of Pinkett's body after the divers lifted him
from the car.  

Joanna was already released from the hospital, along with her parents. 
Bob had a minor concussion but refused to stay at the hospital.  Now he
didn't want to leave his daughter's side anymore, afraid that Pinkett
might return and kill her. 

Joanna only suffered from minor bruises and cuts, the cold water had not
taken its toll.  She had told them what had happened in the car, sobbing
while she explained how Fox had tried to get the gun off her, and then
the car tumbled and crashed in the cold water.

'He's going to be fine,' Scully said.  'He's got to be.  It was not time
to say goodbye yet.' 

'He did well, Scully.  Of course he'll be alright.' 

She sighed and looked straight ahead.  'I hate hospitals.  The smell of
them, the looks of them.  Every time I come in here I wonder how much
more I can take of them.  Mulder, Emily, Melissa ... you.  And always
Mulder again.  He's always the one I'm worried about.'

'Just the way he's worried about you.'

She examined her bosses face for a second.  'Yeah,' she said.  'Just
like he's worried about me.' 

She got up and paced again. 


September 18, 7.52 p.m.
Quononchontaug Local Hospital, Massachusetts

He was vaguely aware of voices in the room.  There were several of them,
talking about him.  He couldn't make them all out.  Did he really know
this many people that would be in the same room discussing him ?

A hand on his arm.  He knew that touch.  He liked it.  Yeah, it was her.
 

He forced open his eyes and looked at her features as she took in his. 
She smiled.  A big smile that described her relief as she stood by him. 
'Welcome back,' she said, stroking his forehead.  Yeah, he could get
used to this.  

'Where ?' he croaked, looking at several other faces now smiling and
staring back at him.  Skinner was on the other side of the bed, and he
actually smiled.  Skinner smiled ?  He remembered him vaguely.  He had
been in the cold water, trying to get him out of the car.  

He moved slightly.  A fierce pain shot through his body.  Immediately
her hands went to his chest as if to stop him from moving.  'You were
shot, Mulder,' she said.  'Don't try to move.  You're in
Quononchontaug.'

She brought a glass of water to his lips and watched as he drank some of
it.  He nearly choked on it.  Jesus, Scully, he thought.  I just
swallowed half the river and you're trying to drown me again ? 
He felt numb, and eager to go back to sleep.  She bent over and kissed
on his forehead.  
'Sleep, Mulder.  We'll talk in the morning.'

'Stay,' he croaked as his fingers kept hold of her hand. 

'I wouldn't even think about leaving you.'  

She turned her head and looked at the others.  'Looks like the worst is
over.  I don't know how to thank you all.'  Terence Davis walked over to
her and kissed her on the cheek.  Then he placed a hand on Mulder's
wrist for a second, saying :'He didn't get Joanna, Mulder.  You did just
fine.'
Mulder smiled as he fell asleep before Davis left the room.

As Skinner wanted to leave as well, Scully asked him to stay.  Skinner
sat down, thinking about better and more peaceful times. 


September 19, 10.45 p.m. 
Quononchontaug Local Hospital, Massachusetts 

He watched them discuss the events of the previous day.  He had not
wanted to go into the room just now, giving his agents the opportunity
to make a mense with the past.  He could hear Mulder's still croaked
voice, seemingly eager to say all the words he needed to say before he
fell asleep again.  Mulder was drained and exhausted, they all knew
that.  Now, lying comfortably in the hospital bed, with the soft pillows
against his back, he was finally able to talk about it all.  

For a moment Skinner thought Mulder was going to cry, to let go of the
pain he had felt since this whole business started - and perhaps even
the pain he had carried with him for the past eight years, but Mulder
did not.  He would be fine, but he had to deal with it on his own way. 

He wanted to see Pinkett's body.  Mulder could hardly believe the man
was dead, that it was all over.  Scully had the hardest time in the
world assuring her partner Pinkett was gone.  Skinner watched them
through the glass.  The believer and his skeptic partner.  The profiler
and the one that had to keep him sane.  He shivered when he thought
about the events, and Mulder's feverish nightmares, keeping him from
sleeping comfortably.   Soon he would go back to becoming an insomniac,
using the television as a way to get him to rest. 

Soon Mulder would go back to his basement office and start cleaning out
the mess the fire had caused.  Would it ever be the same again ? 

Skinner couldn't help but feeling regret.  He regretted the fact he had
helped Mulder push into this mess.  He regretted the fact he had not
been able to talk to Mulder about his ordeal when he needed him the
most. There hadn't been the time nor the place for that.  Perhaps now
Skinner would have to make the time for it. 

He saw Scully lean forward, sitting comfortably on the side of the bed. 
The machines and wires still hooked on Mulder prevented her from lying
next to him on the bed, and Skinner that was exactly what she wanted. 
She had spent the night sitting next to Mulder's bed, convincing herself
he had made it. 
Perhaps Scully would need someone to talk about this too. 

Scully finally said something to him, and he closed his eyes and turned
his head a little, and slept.  She got off the bed and made her way to
the door.  Skinner quickly hurried forward, and stopped to look at her. 
She closed the door and walked towards the nurses' station, not spotting
him.  

He walked over to Mulder's room and opened the door.  His agent was
sleeping.  He got a chair and sat down on Mulder's right side, Mulder's
face turned towards him.  He heard the even breaths.  

Skinner looked at him.  Mulder seemed ten years younger, his face
innocent and free from all the things he'd seen.  But the frown was
still there.  

Skinner didn't speak.  He didn't need to.  As long as his agents needed
him, he would be there. 

Epilogue 

September 27, 10.45 a.m. 
Washington DC, Federal Bureau of Investigation

Mulder opened the door and took in the changed surroundings he had been
working in for the past five years.  They were still busy fixing up the
place.  But nothing reminded him from the fire that had destroyed the
place.  He looked at the new painted coat, the cabinets waiting to be
filled again, the empty walls.  It didn't feel like his office anymore. 
Nothing felt like his anymore. 

'Do you like it, Mulder ?' 

He turned around.  Terence Davis stood there, watching his reactions
sharply.  

'What isn't there to like, Terry ?'  

Davis closed the door.  'Welcome back, Mulder.  You've been missed.'  
He placed a file on the new desk.  'I missed your skills.'

Mulder looked at the file but didn't touch it.  'I'm not coming back,
Terence.  My place is here.' 

Davis sighed.  'I thought you were going to say that.  But you can't
blame a guy for trying, can you ?'

Mulder smiled faintly.  'No.'

Davis picked up the file, turned and walked to the door.  'I hope
Skinner knows how lucky he is to have you working for him.'

'I hope he knows how happy I am working for him.' 

'He knows.  Take care, Mulder.' 

'Take care, Terry.' 

Davis closed the door and left him alone in the silence.  He sighed as
he walked towards the door.  He had a promise to fulfill. 


September 27, 11.21 a.m.

The woman sat at her desk, scanning her file on agent Fox Mulder.  It
was pages long.  Rarely had she seen such a combination of skills,
problems, fear and anger.  The man sitting in front of her seemed
completely under control, but his strained features and tense expression
did not go past her.  Neither did the way he cracked his knuckles when
he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

'You're feeling uncomfortable sitting her talking to me, aren't you ?'

'Yes.'  He stopped for a while before talking again.  'I never - I don't
talk about my problems, you see.  Normally.  I deal with them myself.'

'Then why are you here ?'

'I promised my partner to see someone when this case was over.'

'So you're here because you owe her ?'

'I guess so.'  Another hesitation.  'I'm not sure.  I think I could talk
about it, really.  If I set my mind to it.  Things have been happening
lately.  Confusing things.  I thought no one cared shit about it, you
know.  About me.  And the things I do and live for.'

She had read the reports on the last case made by AD Walter Skinner and
agent Dana Scully.  'You shouldn't be ashamed to tell them how you
feel,' she answered.  'She's your partner and your friend.  Why can't
you tell her how you feel ?'

'Because I'm afraid.'

'What are you afraid of ?'

'That I'll care about her too much.  And that she'll slip away from me,
like the rest of the people in my life.'

'Are you talking about your sister ?'

'Yes.'  Silence.  'I guess I'm too selfish to change.  I always get in
over my head, and then I can't find a way out.  I'm afraid that one day
I'll become the people that I am trying to stop right now.  That I'll
lose the balance between good and wrong, and will chose the wrong path.'


She left the chair behind her desk and sat beside him on the couch,
carefully looking into his sad eyes.  'Why don't you tell me about it
then ?' 

He took a deep breath and scanned her appearance.  'I don't know if I
can.'

'We all can, agent Mulder.  You just have to set your mind to it, and
try.' 

'Okay.' 

September 27, 1.05 p.m.

He emerged from the office of Dr. Davina Baker, psychologist at the
Federal Bureau of Investigation, and took a deep breath.  
A woman came walking towards him.  He smiled as he saw her.  

She rested her hand comfortably on his lingering wrist, and said :'How
did it go ?'

He smiled as he touched her fingers.  'I think it went rather well.' 

She embraced him and he smiled as he took in the scent of her.  'It
really does smell like Teen Spirit, Scully.'

She smiled back and said :'I know.' 


The End