Hello all. This is my first X-Files story, so please be kind. I would love to hear whatever comments you have to offer, so please e-mail me. This story takes place sometime between "Irresistible" and "Colony/Endgame." I started it some time ago, but just finished it recently. I also must say that I did not see the episode "Shadows" before I started writing and was quite chagrined to discover some similarities. They were _not_ intentional. Anyway the characters and all that are of course the creations and property of Chris Carter and Fox and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. All right here we go. . . "Incontrovertible Proof" She lifted her face and let the wind blow through her shoulder length blonde hair. She stood still, breathing in the troubled air. She began to walk again, weaving in and out of trees, stepping quietly on matted leaves, moss, and mud. The moonlight barely passed through the canopy of pines, but she wasn't following any visible trail. She was following the wind. She could sense him there: malevolence, violence, and death. Her heart beat faster. She knew she was getting close. The sense of danger threatened to overpower her. She was there: fear and agony still lingered in the air. And hanging over that was his thrill at the kill. Reluctantly she opened her eyes, knowing before she saw his face, who she would find sitting against that tree, hands outstretched in final supplication for mercy, trying to ward off his attacker. She bent down, softly tracing the curve of his cheek, gently brushing the hair out of his eyes for the last time. Resolutely she stood, facing the wind, offering her challenge. He would no longer be allowed to take those she loved. **************** Mulder and Scully had canceled their flight back to Washington. They had just completed a fairly tame assignment compared with some of the X-Files they investigated, all in all fairly disappointing for Mulder, who was still hoping to find solid evidence to throw in Skinner's face on the existence of extra-terrestrials. They were on their way now to look at a body that had been discovered in the woods two nights ago. "Any idea why this case was given to the F.B.I.?" Scully asked Mulder. He glanced at her before answering. He knew she had enjoyed this last case, not because it was fascinating, but because it was rather ordinary. After all she'd been through and all she'd seen, she relished those cases easily attributed to scientific fact and purely human motives. He passed her the case file he'd had faxed to him. "In the past thirty years, there have been at least twenty murders that fit this M.O., or perhaps I should say lack of M.O. The only thing tying any of these murders together is the way they died. All sustained an incredible amount of trauma to the heart with absolutely no sign of cause. To just cite a few, in 1966 a petty criminal, in 1980 a known rapist, in 1984 a prostitute, 1988 a college coed, 1990 a homeless man. In 1993, before you joined me down in the basement, I investigated the murder of a sixty year old man. His hame was Roger Sorley, and his heart was pulverized with no sign of outward trauma. I filed it with the rest of the X-Files with this M.O. unsolved. There were no leads for me to follow. And now in 1995, a young male undergraduate. And these are just the ones we know about. Who knows how many went unreported." "A serial killer." Scully said, her heart sinking. "I believe so, but we've got just about nothing to go on. Our killer doesn't seem to have a preference for whom he kills, but he really likes his hobby. I want to get him this time, Scully." Mulder rubbed his eyes in frustration. "Well, now that I'm working with you. . ." Scully said slyly, grinning at him. "Let's hope the body tells us something we don't already know," she finished, handing the files back to Mulder. ************* Mulder waited impatiently while Scully finished examining the body. He glanced up. "So, why did he die?" "This is incredible. His heart is absolutely pulverized, but no other organ in his body seems to have been touched. There is no exterior sign of injury. It seems impossible for his heart to have been affected at all. I've never seen anything like it, but the results of the autopsy are exactly the same as those of the other bodies in your files. I'd say this man was killed by the same person who killed those others." Scully's head was spinning. Once again she'd been thrown into a realm of phenomena that defied rational explanations. Science was giving her no solid ground to stand on. . .again. Mulder simply nodded his head. He'd expected this. Something told him that whoever was killing these people was not going to stop on his own. He frowned in concentration. "There's very little evidence to go on. His name's Daniel Mariah, 25, undergraduate at OSU. They found a picture in his wallet who turned out to be an ex-girlfriend, Anaria Sylvai, a fairly well known musician in the area who obtained her doctorate in music last year at the early age of 23. He seems to have kept to himself. Local police canvassed the school, turning up nothing out of the ordinary. He had a roommate, Riley Dorlan, who had no idea Daniel wasn't even in the house until the police showed up on his doorstep. He claims there was bad blood between Daniel and Anaria, but the police found no evidence pointing to her as a suspect. With what we know, Anaria wasn't even born when some of these killings occurred." Scully glanced at her watch. "Well, it's too late to talk to either one of them. I suggest we get a motel room and start in the morning. Anaria and Riley are probably our best bets to finding out who and with what Daniel was involved." Mulder nodded in agreement. He took one final look at the body, and shook his head. He was baffled, and didn't hold much hope of finding the person who had been killing unimpeded for 30 years. ****************** Mulder and Scully climbed the stairs to the second floor studio apartment. Receiving no answer, they turned to leave when Mulder caught sight of a woman matching the picture he'd seen that had been found on the body running towards the apartment. His eyes rested appreciatively on the tight running shorts, slightly over-size t-shirt and firm body. Only when Scully elbowed him in the ribs did he take his eyes off her. She slowed to a walk when she saw them standing on her stairwell. Her blue eyes caught Mulder's gaze. "Can I help you?" she asked evenly. "Are you Anaria Sylvai?" Mulder returned. "I am." "I'm Special Agent Mulder of the F.B.I. This is Special Agent Scully. May we come in and talk to you?" She squeezed past them as she brought out her key and opened the door. "What can I do for you?" she said as she allowed them into her apartment. "Sorry about the mess. I've been preparing for a concert." Mulder gazed around the room, noting the grand piano standing in the middle of the large living area, the hardwood floor covered with stacks of sheet music. Anaria removed the band from her hair, allowing the shoulder length blonde hair to spill down around her face. Mulder turned to face her. She seemed too calm and self-possessed for one who had just learned her ex-lover had been murdered. He didn't really expect histrionics, but he puzzled over her lack of expression. He had expected to see _something_ in her eyes, but they were ice cold, calculating him as much as he was calculating her. "We're investigating the death of Daniel Mariah. We're hoping you can help us uncover the events leading up to his death." Anaria sat down on the piano bench. "I already told the police. I haven't seen Daniel in months. We broke up some time ago, and we did our best to avoid each other. Have you tried speaking with his roommate, Riley? I assume the police gave you his name as well." She answered coldy, her eyes betraying no emotion. "Riley indicated you might have been involved in Daniel's death." Mulder replied just as coldly. Something about her manner irritated the hell out of him. He noticed Scully glancing over at him, a puzzled look on her face. She had no idea why he was trying to provoke Anaria, especially seeing as she knew Mulder didn't for a moment consider her a suspect. She'd known a visit to Anaria would yield no new information. She touched Mulder's elbow. Anaria continued to stare Mulder down. "I was playing a Brahms quintet that night. The police already checked my 'alibi.' I'm surprised you don't already know that." She matched Mulder's glare before dismissing him. "Now if you'll excuse me. I have work to do." Mulder knew he'd just been beaten. He was ready to throw in the towel on this case. "Thank you for your time." he said snidely. "If you think of anything you can reach us at the Regency Motor Lodge or at the number on this card." Mulder allowed himself to shut the door just a bit loudly as they walked out of Anaria's apartment. As they continued down the stairs, piano music thundered through the open windows of the apartment. Mulder stopped, suddenly hearing in the music all the emotion that had been lacking in Anaria's manner. He glanced quickly at Scully. "I have a feeling Miss Anaria Sylvai is a little more disturbed by Mariah's death than she cared to let on." "Yes, but why did she feel the need to hide it behind such antagonism?" Scully responded. ***************** They received as little information from Riley as they had from Anaria. Once again, he pointed to the strife in Anaria and Daniel's relationship, citing shouting matches over an alleged affair of Anaria's. "So what do you think, Mulder? Does any of this make sense to you?" Scully was seated on her bed, laptop in front of her, scrutinizing Mulder as he sprawled on the couch crunching sunflower seeds. "You mean does it make any sense that we have no idea how our victim died, none of the people we've interviewed seem likely suspects, his ex-girlfriend seems to want all investigation stopped, and we've virtually run into the proverbial brick wall?" "That would be it, Mulder." "Oh, it makes perfect sense, Scully," he said sardonically. "Perfect sense." Scully returned, grinning. "Yeah, just as much sense as O.J.'s defense strategy." Mulder grinned back. Scully laughed openly, removing the laptop from her lap and sprawling out on the bed. "What are we doing here, Mulder?" "I don't know. What do you want to do?" he asked teasingly. "Get out." Scully smiled as she tossed a pillow at him. He put on his best wounded puppy dog face as he shuffled towards the door. "I get no respect." he mumbled. "How long do you think we'll be here?" Scully called after him. "I would imagine we can be back in glorious Washington by tomorrow night. I'm afraid our serial killer has already been and gone." **************** Anaria banged the piano keys in frustration. This was the third time she had messed up the intro to the Rachmaninov. She just couldn't concentrate. Daniel's face was swimming in her mind. She could still feel his terror. Then those two F.B.I. agents. How come the local police weren't handling it unless they knew something about past killings? She slowly rose from the piano, unsure what to do. Maybe it was time to confide in someone. She had sensed Mulder's openness. His partner was more skeptical, but even she had seen her fair share of extraordinary phenomena. There was something between those two. Her entrance that morning had sparked some jealousy on the woman's part. She had been jogging through the woods, hoping to find some trace of her brother, the one responsible for all the horror. She hadn't caught a trace of him though. He only seemed to come out long enough to kill, and he seemed to take great pleasure in killing people she knew. She thought again of Mulder, whose sensitive eyes had been overshadowed by the coldness she had instilled in them in response to her own. At the time, she had just wanted him and his partner to leave. She had been determined to exact her revenge alone, but she didn't know if she could do it. Daniel was the last person Anaria had attempted getting close to, but it didn't seem to matter to Darien if the people he killed were friends of hers or just acquaintances. Unless she was ready for him, she would once again be called to find the body as Darien had left it, pummeled by the sheer force of his will. She thought again of Mulder. He could help her. He would believe her. Together they could draw Darien out and destroy him for good, before he had a chance to hurt any other innocent people. She wandered to the window, looking out at the coming storm. Mulder could destroy her too. No one knew about her. She read enough to know the government would jump at the chance to take her, to run their experiments. Mulder's grim determination to know the truth could place her at the mercy of merciless people who would claim she was a danger to society. She was solid evidence that "they" were not alone, something Mulder had been looking for for a long time. She threw open the window, reveling in the wild wind and decided she had to take that chance. ******************** Mulder bolted upright from bed. The connection was there. He ran from his room and began pounding on Scully's door. "Let me in. It's me, Mulder." The door opened, and Scully was absolutely not happy. "It's three in the morning Mulder. This had better be good." She continued to glare at him as he began pacing around the room. "What if the connection has been staring us in the face?" "Mulder, have you been hit on the head again? What on earth are you talking about?" "I'm talking about Anaria. I'm talking about something tying all these cases together. That name sounded familiar, but I didn't place it. Look," Mulder grabbed the case files that were lying next to Scully's computer. "Here, in the 1988 case, the college coed was found by one Miss Anaria Sylvai. I hadn't completely read through all the files since finding them a couple of years ago, and her name is only mentioned that one time. She was jogging in Central Park when she came across the body of a young woman. What if our killer knows Anaria, follows her from place to place, killing for whatever reason, people that she knows." Mulder's voice rose in excitement. "We've got to talk to her again, find out if she knew the people in these files, and any others for that matter." "And you think she's going to admit that she was there when all these people were killed? What makes you so sure she didn't do it herself? And is still doesn't help with all the cases taking place before 1971. She also didn't admit knowing the girl who was killed in Central Park. She's listed there on that report only because she happened to call the police, a mistake she hasn't made since." "She's the connection, Scully. I know it." "Well, I know I need to go back to sleep. We can't do anything until morning anyway." As Mulder returned to his own room, Scully sank back into bed. She almost wished they were headed back to Washington. She knew there was no scientific reason for the way these people were killed. She knew she would never be able to rationally explain it. Sometimes ignorance seemed to far surpass truth. She resigned herself to yet another night of restless dreams, always falling into an abyss which stole her control, leaving her helpless and grasping, calling out and finding no one there. ******************* Anaria paced the room nervously. She had no idea if she were doing the right thing, and even if she bared her secrets to the F.B.I. agents, there was no guarantee Darien would show himself. He could already be long gone, only to show up again in weeks or months. After tripping over a pile of music for the third time, she finally sat at the piano, unleashing her nerves with a particularly rambunctious rendition of Liszt. As Mulder and Scully approached her door, they stopped in amazement at the music wafting through the closed windows. "Wow. Is that Liszt?" Mulder commented. "I didn't know you were a connoisseur of classical music, Mulder." "I knew I'd have to come out of the closet sometime," he replied dryly. "She's very good." Scully commented. "I almost hate to knock on the door and disturb her." Abruptly the music stopped. The door suddenly swung open, and Mulder and Scully were presented with a very distressed young woman. She stared at them for a moment. Mulder broke the silence. "Agent Mulder and Scully," he reminded her. She nodded curtly, motioning them inside. Scully cast a puzzled look at Mulder. The woman's attitude had changed greatly in 24 hours, no longer cold and distant, but obviously nervous and upset. "We've come across some new information. We're hoping you can help us with it." Scully began. "When did you realize that I was the one to find Jennifer Marchand's body?" she asked. Scully and Mulder exchanged glances. "At about 2:30 this morning," Mulder ventured. "How did you know?" Anaria glanced first at Mulder, then at Scully. The moment was here, and she didn't know if she could to it. It had never crossed her mind to tell anyone her secret, well anyone but Daniel, and she never had told him. "I figured there had to be a good reason you would grace my doorstep at eight in the morning," she replied slowly. "Did you know Jennifer Marchand?" Scully asked softly. "She was a good friend of mine." Anaria smiled. "We were from two completely different worlds. Her friends didn't know me. I'd been attending Julliard. I was so wrapped up in my music, I didn't see much else. Jen was a realy eye opener, the kind of influence my dad always tried to keep me away from. The police never suspected that we knew each other." "Why keep it a secret?" Mulder asked. "I didn't want to get involved. I didn't want that kind of attention." Scully drifted towards the piano. "It's quite obvious you are a talented musician. To be honest, you're the best I've heard in a long time, yet you didn't graduate from Julliard, and instead of becoming involved in the concert scene, you chose to take a degree from a small university and remain relatively unknown. May I ask why?" "I didn't want that kind of attention either." Anaria bit her lip. She could sense their honesty, their desire to stop these horrible killings. She knew she had to help them, to ask for their help, or risk being responsible for future deaths. "I haven't told you everything. I know who's been committing these murders, but you're going to have a hard time believing me. We need to talk, but not here." Mulder and Scully could only stare at each other in amazement. ******************** Anaria had taken them back to where she had found Daniel. Their curiosity was palpable. She stopped in front of the tree where she had discovered him. She leaned against it and closed her eyes as she began her tale. "I don't know exactly where to begin except at the beginning. I ask you to reserve your judgement until I've finished. Thirty years ago, my parents were abducted. Not from this place, but from their own world. The things we can do are normal where they came from. They didn't realize their power was extraordinary until in 1966, only a few days after they'd been left here, a mugger attacked my mother, and my father responded in the way he'd been trained in his world. . .by reaching with his mind into the heart of their attacker. In their world, that mugger would have fought back, but in this world, his heart burst, and he died instantly. My parents were horrified. They didn't know where they were, and they had no way to explain what had just occurred. They ran, vowing to refrain from using their power. They tried to fit into society. They formed the traditional nuclear family, having my brother Darien in 1969 and me in 1971. My parents did everything they could to keep us separated from other people. They raised us in a small town in Washington, home-schooled us, and taught us to control and never show our power. "We led quiet lives. For a long time Darien and I didn't know how different from everyone else we really were. I first noticed it after I discovered music. When I played, I could reach out to that audience, and make them feel what I wanted them to feel. I was also able to enhance my technical ability. That's how I got into Julliard when I was 16. Things fell apart, though, when an escaped rapist found his way to our house. I was nine, Darien eleven. My father had gone out, and Darien and I were playing in the woods near our house. To this day I don't know how that man was able to get close enough to my mother to kill her, but Darien and I felt her die. We ran to the house, and it was then that Darien made his first kill. "My father had felt what had happened and returned as quickly as he could. He was devastated, and he never recovered. Darien never forgave the human race for the act of that one man, and he began killing with impunity, taking great delight in the suffering he caused. My father was bewildered. Darien was out of control. I hid myself in music. In 1987 I left for New York and Julliard, determined to forget where my parents had come from and assimilate myself completely into society. I turned my back on both Darien and my father. "In 1988 I felt my father die. He just willed himself to die. Jen was the first of my friends to die. I knew that secrecy was our only hope of not becoming an experiment of the government, and I couldn't maintain a low profile on the concert circuit. I left Julliard, moving from place to place, completing music programs as quickly as I could, finally settling down here, thinking that I could build myself a life. Darien followed me wherever I went. He's not going to stop unless I make him, and to be honest I'm not sure I can. All I know is, I can't continue to feel him kill, to hear his calls and run after him, always too late to do anything about it." Anaria slumped against the tree, her head in her hands, wearily wiping the tears from her eyes. Scully and Mulder were staring at each other in disbelief. Mulder's head was spinning. Either somebody was playing one of the most elaborate jokes on him, or he had just been given the proof he so desperately needed to prove that they were not alone in the universe. "NO" Anaria glared furiously at him. "I'm not here to supply you with evidence of 'alien life forms'. I came forward to save lives. We are here to stop a killer, and that's all we are here for." Scully stood back, watching Anaria and Mulder glare at each other. Once again, her partner was accepting a story without any substantiation. Mulder gave first, dropping his gaze to glance at Scully. He saw there disbelief, but underneath that, he also saw fear. He turned his attention back to Anaria. "How do you know where the bodies are?" "Darien calls me." "What do you mean. . .he calls you?" Mulder interceded. "I can sense it. The closest thing I can relate it to is telepathy. I follow the call, the closer I get to the body, the stronger I feel him. We're connected with our minds. . .or something. I can do that with everyone, not just him." Mulder jumped back, as if stung. Panic moved fleetingly across his face. Scully reached out to him. "What's wrong, Mulder?" "Didn't you hear what she said?" "She didn't say anything. You two were just staring at each other." Scully frowned at him. "What happened?" "She talked," he glanced at Scully with some trepidation. "In my mind." "Mulder, that's imposs. . ." she trailed off, knowing that now perhaps nothing was impossible. She quickly pushed the thought aside. "What do you want to do?" Mulder glanced over at Anaria. She looked absolutely wiped out, pale, drawn. Her blue eyes held such sadness, and for a moment, incredibly, he finally saw in her eyes what others saw in his. "I suggest we go back to the motel and decide what we're going to do to draw Darien out." Relief washed through Anaria's eyes, tears threatening to spill out. "You believe me?" she whispered. "I don't have to do this alone anymore?" Mulder nodded, feeling her pain. He placed his arm around her shoulder and began walking her out of the forest. Scully felt a twinge when she saw Mulder's gentle treatment of Anaria. She remembered the last time those arms had comforted her after Donnie Ffaster had kidnapped her. Anaria threatened to topple her world, and she stumbled after her and Mulder missing those arms around her. *********************** Mulder quietly closed the motel room door behind him and walked over to Scully's room. "Where's Anaria?" she asked. "Sleeping. I think it's been a long time since she's really had any rest." The parallels between Mulder and this girl were striking, and she placed her hand on his elbow, realizing how hard this must be for him as well. "Do you really believe her?" she asked softly. Mulder didn't answer, instead deciding to stare at the wall. "Why don't you be the rational anchor I've depended on so much and tell me why I shouldn't?" "There's no proof she's telling the truth. I don't see that it's possible for aliens to assimilate themselves so quickly and so easily that nobody would notice. As you know perfectly well the government has numerous ways of keeping track of people. All of them have social security numbers. How did they get birth certificates. How did they learn the language? I searched our files and found no trace of her mother or father as either murder or suicide victims. We've seen no trace of her brother. The whole story could be a concoction of a delusional mind seeking some sort of attention. Other than the 1988 case and this one, there's no evidence she was involved in any of the other murders. As I said, I ran a background check through social security and found murders corresponding to places where she lived, but that could be pure coincidence. You're still dealing with wisps of fog, Mulder. Unless you want to dissect her to discover if her body is any different from yours, you still have no access to evidence that she is not of this world." Mulder jerked his head up, realizing for the first time that the very nature of his quest could lead him to acts as insidious as the men in black. He couldn't rub Skinner's nose in Anaria's existence even if he had incontroverible proof that she was an alien. If she was to keep her freedom, she had to remain a secret from everyone, especially the government. "She spoke to me in my mind Scully." he said wearily. "I don't understand." "Just what I said. I heard her in my mind. She knew about your disappearance." "That's impossible." Scully suddenly felt very weak. "I think she's telling the truth. I don't know how her parents pulled it off, but. . ." He suddenly realized what Trepkos has meant when he'd asked Mulder what he'd do if he ever found the truth. Even after all these years of searching, even after all the crazy things he and Scully had seen in the past year and a half, he'd never actually contemplated what he would do if he came face to face with an alien. He suddenly felt very tired. Scully watched as Mulder seemed to shrink before her very eyes. She, too, was feeling the abyss open before her. "Maybe you should get some sleep, too, Mulder. We're going to have to decide soo what to do about Darien." Mulder nodded wordlessly, lying back on Scully's bed, hoping his sleep would at least be dreamless this time. He raised his head. "What are you going to do?" Scully shifted, looking down at the floor. "I need to talk to Anaria." Understanding flashed in Mulder's eyes, seeing how deeply those missing months had scarred Scully, too. ******************** Scully hesitantly opened the door to Mulder's room. Anaria sat up as she did so. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you." "You didn't. I'm a light sleeper." Anaria smiled slightly. "I actually don't sleep all that much." Scully nodded, entering the room, closing the door behind her. She walked over to the chair by the bed and sat down, not knowing exactly what she wanted to say. Anaria simply stared back at her. She could feel the torment this woman was going through. She needed the rational explanation. She needed the order it afforded her. "Agent Scully" she began. "Call me Dana." Anaria nodded slowly. "Dana. I'm sorry for the pain I'm causing you." Scully's tortured eyes met hers. "How did you know?" she whispered. "How did you know I'd been. . .taken?" "It comprises most of your being right now, Dana. I could have read it on your face if I hadn't felt it in your soul." "Do you know what happened to me?" she finally asked, her eyes beginning to water. "No. I can only feel what you feel." Anaria reached out to touch the older woman. "Why haven't you spoken to Mulder about any of this?" "I don't want him to feel like he has to protect me." "But you protect him." Scully's head shot up, her mouth dropping open. She kept her feelings for Mulder hidden, even from herself. Closing her eyes, she replied, "I'm used to being in control. I don't let go of that easily." Anaria gripped Scully's arm. "You might have to Dana. I'm speaking only from personal experience here. I don't need special powers to be able to see that no one can make it alone. You have someone who cares very deeply about you. Don't throw that back in his face. I'd give anything to have someone to lean on once in a while. I've been alone so long. . ." Anaria stared into space for a moment, and Scully finally reached out to touch her in return. "I'm not delusional Dana. I don't know how my parents ended up here. I don't know where I'm from, but I can do things no one else can." Scully caught Anaria's eyes. "I don't know what to believe. I don't know how I'm going to live my life from now on if I believe you." ******************** Mulder didn't reappear until late afternoon. He suggested ordering something to eat before sitting down to plan their strategy. After the pizza and sodas had arrived, he sat on the bed across from Anaria. "So what exactly are we dealing with? How does Darien kill?" "It's hard to explain. It's like he wraps his mind around something, um with energy maybe, and uses the force to destroy it. It implodes." She looked at Mulder and Scully's puzzled faces. "Watch." Anaria pointed to a mug on the table, still filled with the remnants of Scully's coffee. Mulder and Scully looked on in amazement as the mug shimmered, then shattered, first into shards, then to dust. "Oh my God." Scully breathed, her eyes wide. "That's incredible." Mulder seconded. Anaria wearily brushed the hair out of her eyes. "It doesn't happen without a price. I can't do these things for any sustained lenght of time without tiring myself immensely." "How do we stop him?" Mulder asked. Anaria rubbed her eyes. "I don't really know." "You don't know?" Mulder repeated. "Well it's not like I've done it before." she replied testily. "I think if he attacks us I can throw up some kind of shield. His will crashes against mine instead of against you. But I don't know what happens after that. I don't know how long I can hold out against him. I don't know if I can kill him. He's very strong." Anaria shuddered. Mulder placed his hand on her arm. "We'll find a way. Wait. You said your mother was killed by a rapist. How, exactly?" "He stabbed her." Anaria nodded, understanding. "You can shoot him. He's not Superman. He's not impervious to bullets. Of course, you have to see him in order to kill him." "Well, we'll just have to draw him out. Any ideas? Anaria, can you call him in any way?" "I'm not sure. He's pretty good at blocking me. I've tried searching for him before and haven't had any luck. I couldn't feel a thing." "But that doesn't mean that he can't hear you?" Scully asked. "No it doesn't." she replied. "All I can do is try. I'll be right back." Anaria walked outside into the wind. She closed her eyes, sending out her thoughts. She had no idea if he heard her or not. She slowly turned around and walked back into the motel room. He watched as she disappeared back inside, her hair streaming in the wind, head slightly bowed. He was debating the best way of cleaning up the mess Anaria was making for him as well as how to finally get rid of his dear little sister. ******************** Scully had settled down to sleep on Mulder's bed. Anaria wouldn't let Scully go back to her own room, afraid Darien would slip past her unnoticed and kill these people she wanted more than anything to call friends. They had obtained a cot from the office for Anaria, and Mulder settled himself on the couch, which he much preferred anyway. His only complaint was that Scully wouldn't let him keep the TV on. How was he supposed to sleep? "What?" he exclaimed, startled. Mulder closed his eyes, mesmerized by Anaria's "silken" voice." She floated in and out of his consciousness. He had the odd sensation of being submerged in sea water, buoyed and carried by the current. Mulder chuckled softly. She could feel his curiosity, so she continued. Mulder's calm was interrupted by the distinct feeling of nakedness. Suddenly she was gone. He raised himself to his elbows and glanced over at the cot. She had turned her face to the wall, curled up in a fetal position. He saw her suddenly shift in the darkness. Then he suddenly felt her. Mulder gasped in surprise, lurching away from her, afraid to fall into the darkness with her. He tentatively approached her. He couldn't hide the latter part of his thought from her. Suddenly another thought crushed Anaria. Anaria panicked when she saw Mulder bend over double, cluthing his chest, gasping for air in obvious pain, face getting paler and paler. Scully awoke with a start to witness chaos. She ran to Mulder, took note of his faltering pulse, racing heart, and screamed at Anaria. "Anaria! You have to do something! Snap out of it. Help us!" Anaria glanced wildly at Scully huddled with Mulder on the floor. Her rage directed itself at one person, the taunting voice coming from outside the room. She braced herself as she threw her will over Scully and Mulder, creating a barrier between Darien's mind and theirs. She felt his anger as he futiley crashed against her again and again. Her determination matched his, and he couldn't get through. She heard him laughing as he retreated. She turned again to Scully and Mulder, not relinquishing her shield. "Is he okay?" she whispered frantically. "He's still alive. Help me get him on the bed." They quickly moved his inert form to the bed where Scully began checking his pulse and heartrate. He moved slightly, groaning. "His vitals seem to be stabilizing, but I can't determine here if there was any damage to his heart. We have to get him to a hospital." While Scully called an ambulance, Anaria sat by the bed, holding the unconscious Mulder's hand, guilt swallowing her soul. Mulder came to consciousness in a muddle of beeping sounds and flashing lights. His attempt to sit up was hindered by two pairs of feminine hands forcing him quite firmly to lay back in the bed. He found himself staring in confusion at Scully and Anaria. "What the hell happened? Where am I?" "Take it easy, Mulder. You'll be all right. Darien unleashed himself on you, but there appears to be no damage to your heart muscle. We did an echocardiogram, and the results came back normal." "Normal?" "Yeah, can you believe that Mulder?" Scully asked wickedly. "I'm so sorry, Mulder." Anaria said mournfully. "You saved my life," he replied, reaching out to touch her arm. "You wouldn't even be in danger if I hadn't asked you for help." "Don't think that way, Anaria, besides," he said ruefully, "I can get into trouble without much help from anyone else. Ask Scully." "It's true," Scully nodded sorrowfully, "he's accident prone." Anaria half smiled at their bantering, half distracted from maintaining the shield. "Can I get out of here?" Mulder asked hopefully. "Well, you should probably stay the night for observation. Keeping you on the heart monitor would enable us to react quickly in case Darien did some damage that hasn't showed itself yet." Mulder groaned slightly. He hated all the noise, his own heartbeat echoing throughout the room. He felt Anaria touch his shoulder, brush past his mind with hers, comforting, urging him to just go to sleep. He closed his eyes and drifted into peaceful slumber. Scully glanced at Anaria in surprise. "You should come around more often." She watched Anaria slump wearily into a chair next to the bed. Scully turned once more to Mulder, watching his slow breathing, brushing the hair out of his eyes, gripping his hand as she sat down in the other chair by the bed. She didn't want to remember her panic when she'd awoken to find Mulder writhing on the floor, face ashen. How close had she come to losing him? If Anaria had been a few seconds slower with her defense, she knew Mulder would have died in that motel room. She had to admit she was scared, as scared as she'd ever been. What kind of power did they possess? How could someone come so close to taking Mulder away from her with the mere thought of his will? Her panic hadn't begun to ease until tests had shown no damage to his heart, although the regular rhythms from the heart monitor still made her catch her breath, waiting for a faltering pace. He looked so calm now, his color returning, his mouth slightly open. She continued to watch his chest rise and fall until she fell asleep herself. *********************** Sunlight streamed through the window. Mulder squinted his eyes against the glare and saw Scully slumped in a chair by his bed, her hand still in his. He rubbed his thumb softly against her smooth palm. She began to stir. He glanced over at Anaria, who was sitting with her head in her hands, rubbing her forehead in concentration. "How you feeling?" Scully asked. He glanced again at Scully, who was just coming awake. "Probably better than you two look. Did you sleep in those chairs all night?" Scully glanced down at her hand, sneaked a glance at Mulder, and tried with subtlety to remove her hand from his. "Yeah, I guess I did. I don't think Anaria slept at all." "So, can I get out of here?" "I don't see why not. I'll go find your doctor and get the release papers. Don't go anywhere," she grinned. He flicked the monitor leads and snorted, "Yeah right." As Scully walked out of the room, Mulder reached out to Anaria. She turned her head slightly at his touch. "I'm sorry. It's taking all I've got to keep this shield up. I don't think I'm going to be able to talk to you for very long." "Are you all right?" he asked with concern. She shook her head slightly, but this time didn't respond. Scully walked in the door. "Okay, you're sprung." She unhooked him from all the machines, then pointed to the closet. "You're clothes are in there." Scully was leaning over Anaria when Mulder returned from the bathroom. "Is she okay?" "I don't know, but I suggest we get out of here." "Won't argue with you there. Can she walk?" Anaria nodded, slowly rising. "Would someone please just give me an arm?" Mulder firmly gripped her elbow, and the three of them made it slowly down the hall, Anaria framed by Scully and Mulder, looking for all intents and purposes like it was she who belonged in the hospital bed Mulder had just vacated. ******************** "What are we going to do?" Mulder was pacing, casting concerned glances from time to time at Anaria where she sat huddled on the bed. "She can't hold that shield forever. She's going to collapse." "I know." Scully shook her head. Anaria was not doing too well, and without her they had no chance in hell of catching Darien, of even staying alive. Mulder joined her as she sat on the bed. "There has to be some way to get him out in the open." Mulder didn't enjoy the prospect of killing someone in cold blood, although he knew it was self defense. He still didn't like it. Then he remembered the rapidity and deadliness with which Darien had attacked, and realized he had no choice. He grimaced when he thought of explaining this one to Skinner. He glanced at Scully who was hovering over Anaria. He joined them. Anaria finally looked up, exhaustion evident on her face. "How you feeling Mulder?" she asked softly. "I'm doing a lot better than you are right now. Do you have any suggestions?" "He's close. I can feel him. Every time he thrusts his mind at me, I get an impression of him." "Can you tell exactly where he is?" "Not exactly." She closed her eyes for a moment, knowing what she had to do. "I've been giving this a lot of thought. I can't maintain a standoff with him for long. I need to go find him. Maybe he'll talk to me. This whole thing started with our mother. Maybe it will end there." Scully gave her a puzzled look. "What are you planning to do?" "I'm not sure exactly, but our mother basically committed suicide. There's no possible way that rapist could have killed her so easily if she hadn't let him. She would have seen him before he opened the front door. Darien started killing immediately after that, always interested in revenge. Cruel as it may seem, I need to get him to consider why our love, his love, wasn't enough for our mother to stay in this world. If I can latch on to him with that, I may be able to draw him out into a confrontation, but you two are going to have to be ready. You won't have much time." "Are you going to have enough strength to do this?" Scully asked. Anaria glanced at her calmly. "I have no idea, but I'll die trying." ********************** He was furious. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get through to those other two. Anaria was much better at blocking than he'd ever given her credit for. Of course, he had never understood her desire to join with society, the society that had ruined his family, had murdered his mother, had forced their father to kill himself. He glared fiercely at the curtained windows his sister was hidden behind. It was her fault he hadn't been there to protect their mother. She had put up such a stink about going out to the creek to catch salamanders. Salamanders of all things. And Mother had made him go with her. Stupid little sister. They had been fighting over who was going to hold the frog they'd found instead when the screams began from the house. The rage was building again as he thought about it. He would have been there if she hadn't always been such a brat. His mother would still be alive. He coiled again, tensed to drive his will against her for the last time. ********************** She felt him moving. Scully and Mulder watched her tense, then relax. Instead of reinforcing the barrier, she drew him into her mind, trapping him, making him listen to their mother weeping in her bed at night, screaming at their father that they shouldn't be there, that she wanted to go home, blaming him for their abduction because she had no one else to blame. Anaria wrapped Darien in their mother's unhappiness, her depression, her intense longing to no longer live in a world she didn't understand, separated from her friends and family, her husband and two children not being enough to make her want to stay. She showed him the scene of their mother's death as she imagined it. Mother saw the rapist at the door. She coiled to protect herself. Then she saw the knife, and retreated into passiveness. She watched the intruder draw closer, she longed for an end to her agony and misery, and she gave herself over to death so she wouldn't have to give herself to this new world. Anaria screamed at Darien. Darien pushed himself away from her, recoiling in agony. Anaria gasped, stumbled to the door and flung it open, letting the wind and rain whip about her. She yelled out loud, "You're a coward, too. Always killing where no one can see you. You're no better than her. You left me alone and father alone just like she left us alone. Come out here where I can see you." Scully and Mulder ran out, guns drawn, behind a swaying Anaria. And Darien emerged from the shadows, unable to take his eyes off of his sister. He ran towards her, intent on killing her with his bare hands if he had to. He had to make her stop talking. He couldn't think about his mother committing suicide. Darien was on top of Anaria almost before Scully or Mulder could even react. He toppled her, grabbing her throat. Mulder gripped Darien from behind, trying desperately to pull him off. Enraged, Darien let go of Anaria and turned his attention to Mulder. He knocked Mulder backward, drawing in his will. Scully fired. A look of surprise came over Darien's face before he sank slowly to the ground, his face finally losing in death all the pent up fury that had driven him in life. Scully hurried toward Mulder, but he motioned her to Anaria, indicating he was all right. Scully crouched down by Anaria's still form. "Is she alive?" Mulder asked hoarsely. "Barely. Her pulse is very weak. I can't believe I'm saying this, but we can't take her to a hospital. We can't take that chance." "What do we do about Darien?" Scully glanced resolutely at the bloodied form on the ground. "We make sure there's no autopsy, and then we have him cremated. Call the local police. I'll make sure the body gets taken care of. You get Anaria inside. I don't want any of them to see her." Mulder hesitated, looking at Darien and back at Scully. "How can we destroy it? If he really is an alien, his body could tell us so much. I mean, it's evidence, irrefutable proof that we are not alone. It's what I've been looking for all along." Scully could see the frustration evident in Mulder's face. She knew how he was feeling. She'd like to perform an autopsy just to prove to herself that Anaria and Darien were not aliens, that their powers came from some other source. "If they are aliens, Mulder, is our evidence worth destroying Anaria's life? You know it won't take them long to find her, study her, even kill her." He nodded, stroking a stray hair out of Anaria's face. He couldn't do that to her, no matter what. Mulder picked up Anaria's small form, cradling her in his arms, and headed for his motel room. ********************* He'd been sitting there next to her all night. Scully had returned just before dawn. Darien's body was destined for the crematorium. Mulder waited anxiously while Scully checked her over. "I don't know, Mulder. Her breathing is steady, it's just very, very weak." She rubbed her weary eyes. "Mulder, maybe we should take her to the hospital. We might be able to help her better there." "No, we can't. She'll die anyway if anyone finds out. Promise me, Scully." Scully nodded, feeling utterly helpless. She sat on the other side of the bed and joined Mulder in his vigil. It had been three days. They had been forcing fluids down Anaria, hoping to help her maintain some strenght. When Anaria opened her eyes she saw Mulder restlessly sleeping on the couch. Scully was coming quietly from the bathroom. "Anaria," Scully said with some relief. "How are you feeling?" "Better. A little tired, but better. He's dead isn't he?" Scully nodded. "I had to shoot him. I am sorry Anaria." "Me too," she replied quietly. She glanced again at Mulder. "I think you've made a new friend. He's been hovering over you constantly for the past three days." Scully smiled at her. "I finally got him to lie down." She began moving toward him. "No, let him sleep. He needs it." Scully sat on the bed next to her. "Well, your color is back. Will you let me check you out?" Anaria submitted to Scully's ministrations and then demanded that she take the bed and get some sleep as well. When Mulder awoke, he saw Scully stretched out on the bed and Anaria curled up on the cot watching them. "Anaria." He said with some surprise. "You're all right." "I'm fine. Just needed a good rest." She smiled at him. "It's amazing what a good three days' sleep will do for you." "Hardy har har" he replied sarcastically. "How did you do it? I mean, I'd just about given up." Anaria shuddered at the memory. "I realized that not only could I forcefully keep Darien out of mymind, but that I could also draw him in. When he lauched himself at me, I offered no resistance, then I wrapped my mind around his, essentially trapping him inside me. Then I did what I said I'd do. I brought up mother. It was a dirty trick. I goaded him until he lost control. You know the rest." Mulder went over to her. "You had no choice." She glanced up, her eyes teary. "I know. I just wish things had been different. You know?" "I know." He said softly, drawing her into his arms. She wept quietly for a short time, then drew back. "I'm sorry." "What for?" Mulder asked with some surprise. Anaria was as bad as Scully. "I didn't mean to bother you." "You're crazy, Anaria, if you think your needing a friend is bothersome." They smiled at each other. Then Mulder became serious again. "Anaria I need to ask you something." "Okay." "How did your parents learn to speak English? Did their abductors speak it? Did they learn it from other abductees?" "I don't know Mulder. As I said, my parents rarely spoke of that time in their lives. I'm sorry. I don't know if the same people who took my parents later took your sister." Mulder glanced sharply at her. "How did you know about that?" "Mulder, you know how I know." she said gently. He closed his eyes in apology. "One day, I will get used to that." "You better," she said half jokingly. "But I promise I will try very hard not to always have you at a disadvantage." "That might take some doign." Scully joined in on the bantering from across the room. "Oh, I feel dreadfully outnumbered." Mulder moaned. "What are you going to do now?" Scully asked curiously "Well, I'm about a week behind in preparing for a concert. I need to get back to my apartment. I start rehearsals with the orchestra tomorrow." She paused, looking intently at the two of them. "I don't know how to thank you. You risked your lives to help me. You didn't merely try to send me off to the funny farm." Scully still wasn't sure what to believe about Anaria's story of alien abductions, so she covered her discomfiture with humor. "If I'd have done that, I'd have had to send Mulder with you." she laughed. "Besides," Mulder interjected. "That's what friends are for." Anaria laughed, giving each of them hugs. "Promise you'll stay in touch," Scully demanded. Anaria nodded, softly closing the door behind her. Scully turned to Mulder. "Do you think it was all true?" "I don't know if we'll ever know if she's really an alien. But her extraordinary powers cannot be denied and cannot be explained by modern science," he said firmly. "What do we tell Skinner?" "We tell him we left no stone unturned, we were attacked by a mugger resulting in deadly force, but found nothing having to do with the case. It remains unsolved." "What about the truth?" she asked. Mulder paused, thinking. "Perhaps some things are better left buried." "You know, Mulder, you just might be a nice guy after all." Scully grinned at him. "Are you sure about that?" Mulder said adopting his best Peter Lorre sneer. "As sure as I am about anything, Mulder." "Oh, now I'm hurt." They lapsed into comfortable silence, each one wondering what they would do without the other. Finis.