Date: 8 Feb 1999 12:21:09 -0800 From: Sandra Vets Subject: The Messenger 4/6 Friday, December 20, 1986 Fox Mulder woke up in the solitude of his hospital room and wondered where he was. Out of the darkness came a body and a voice said, "Fox, it's your mother. I'm right here, you're going to be fine." He looked at her and tried to remember why he was here. He was in the hospital, but why? And where? It was all so vague. He remembered a woman's body slamming into the windshield of the car, and her screams seemed to deafen him forever. He could remember every single detail. But why was he here? What had brought him here? He remembered an argument, a fight. The words seemed important but he couldn't grasp them. He couldn't find out what they were, or who was saying them. It was all a blur. "Mom," he croaked, feeling the soreness in his throat, "I don't remember." A strange look in his mother's eyes and then a flash of relief, perhaps even happiness. "It's okay, honey," she said soothingly, stroking his face, "It doesn't matter. It's over now. Don't think about it." He fell asleep knowing there was something so important in his life that he needed to remember. But he didn't. And he trusted his mother more than anyone in his entire life. If she said it wasn't important, it was the truth. After all, why would she lie? Wednesday, January 20 Dana Scully had seen the world in good and bad times. She had shared the demons and anger that Mulder has been fighting off for years and years. She had encountered murderers and abductors. She had looked death in the eyes. And everybody knew she wanted t o die when she became blind. For her, without the light in her eyes, there was nothing left. The bandages were finally being removed but it didn't change the facts. Test results concluded that much of the damage to her eyes has been repaired through surgery, but the extensive damage inflicted by the glass was too grave. It had scarred her for lif e. Her eyes were dead and cold, but strangely enough it wasn't just the light that had vanished from them. It was also the anger that came from within her that made her look this way. Somewhere during her stay in the ICU and then the private hospital room, she had turned into herself, refusing to allow anyone to come within two feet from her, shouting and screaming at them for all she was worth. The fatigue inside her had turned into r age, and she was angry with the world and herself. She could smell the flowers in her room, but they reminded her of the fact she could not see them anymore. She wanted to grab them and throw them out of the window, forgetting at the same time everything that was happening to her right now. She wanted to remember the old days and think of her past with Mulder. Yes, it was all in the past now. For her there was no more future. But the man sitting in her room seemed to have found the strength again somehow to be at her side and to make sure she survived. He was the one talking soothing her even though she knew that he didn't believe his own words. She could hear the distress and stress in his voice and realized she loved listening to his soft tones. Then the voice started to change and she found out she started to hate the way he spoke to her. She started to remember everything that had happened to her and how it had happened. She started to think. Why wasn't he the one blind from the crash? What had he been hiding from her? Who was the woman she had heard him talk of when he sat down at her bedside, not knowing she was awake to listen to his words? Deep inside of her the fear of being blind indefinitely changed into rage, but she didn't know how to express it. She simply turned it to the person closest to her, knowing he would be hurt more by the tone of her voice than the words spoken harshly. Litt le did she know it had taken all the conviction of their mutual friends to persuade him to sit here and focus his attention on her. Little did she know he was ready to fight whatever battle was needed to regain what was the most important to her. For Dana Scully all that mattered was the frustration of being blind forever, and the knowledge that the pain inflicted on her could have been caused by others. She needed someone to blame. So, on that cold and chilly night, she turned her attention to her partner, knowing exactly where he was sitting and said with a loud, harsh tone, "I want you to leave." Mulder didn't even know she was awake at the time. Her eyes had been closed for a long time while she let the thoughts run through her system. But her sudden words shook the hell out of him. She couldn't see the shock on his face, nor the way he grabbed a hold of the chair he was sitting on. He knew it had finally happened. She was turning the blame toward him, focusing on the one person that was in the car with her. She couldn't see him, couldn't know that he was eating himself alive. All she knew was that he was there, and he was the one sh e wanted to punish. Her dead eyes stared straight into his and he knew she didn't need to see him. *You don't need eyes to see, you need vision.* She had a vision of him buried in her mind and she used it now to punish him. Mulder opened his mouth and closed it again. He didn't want to talk to her about this. He simply got up and left the room, as Margaret Scully behind him said, "Dana, why did you say that?" He couldn't hear Scully's answer but didn't need to. He closed the door behind him, but Tom was faster and opened it again and stepped outside with him in the hallway. Unconsciously Mulder protected the broken ribs by placing his good arm over his chest a s he sat down, the other arm still encased in a cast and tucked in a sling. Tom was shocked by the dead, numb stare in his friend's eyes. He knew the man could not see him right now. Everything he had worked for these past years was gone. "Mulder, please." Mulder turned toward him, suddenly seeing so much of Scully's type of strength in that man. Mulder wanted to warn the guy that sticking around him was too dangerous for anyone, but he would probably not even listen. He would simply ignore the warning and get on with it. But Mulder knew. He was a liability, not only to himself but to those around him. To Lisa Messenger. He remembered now. December 21, 1986 The face of the woman standing near the bed seemed vaguely familiar to him but he couldn't remember where he had seen her before. He blinked his eyes and moved his face and head to take a better look at her. Then he saw the eyes. They were dead, and he re membered why. Her face smiled, the grin on her was enough to warn him for the danger she represented. "So you're in here, now," she said softly, and her hand seemed to be caressing his arm. He could feel her light touch as her fingers stroked the skin and flesh on his forearm, but it didn't feel good. He hated her touch. "How did you find me?" "You don't need eyes to see, Fox. I know my way around here, in the darkness. You have put me there, you and that father of yours. I'm already used to it." "What do you want? I had nothing to do with your accident. It was an accident after all." "I'm here to tell you that it is not over. It might take a long time before we meet again, but one day I will come to you and offer you a choice, one which you must make. One you will be forced to make. I have made a deal, you see, with someone that will help me. He has come to me and promised me his help and I believe him. He will do what is right for me." "Who came to you?" She smiled as if she was talking to an unknowing child. "Does it matter? The choice has been made, you will suffer the consequences. Some day soon, I promise." She turned and left him alone in the room. He stared at her self-assured walk, and the way she left. She hardly touched the door, hardly seemed to need a way out. She knew every inch of this hospital already and he feared and dreaded the day that promise would be fulfilled. But who did she make a deal with? The door opened again and his father entered the room, his face pale and distraught. He had seen her in the hallway, probably spoken to her as well. Did he make the deal with her? Oh, God, if he could only remember what had happened that night before the accident that caused his memory loss. He needed to find out, but he couldn't. No matter how much he forced his photographic memory, all he got were blurry pictures. Nothing made sense whatsoever. "It's okay, son," Bill Mulder said as if he knew what Fox was going through. "Some day it will all come back. But right now it's not important. You don't need to remember." The man seemed to want to say more, but didn't. His wife entered the room and looked at him with anger and hatred in her cold eyes. What he wanted to ask his son was never asked. She had spoken to their mutual smoking friend and agreed to keep the Consort ium's secrets in exchange for their promise not to hurt Fox. She had saved both Bill and Fox. Bill should be grateful to her but couldn't show her the gratitude she was entitled to. He knew she had to have made some sort of deal, just as he had. The only problem was, what kind? As Bill looked at his silent son, he wished for him to have everything he ever wanted in his life. But not the memories of that one night when he had overheard the conversation between his parents. If he remembered, he would probably remember the truth ab out his sister as well. Bill sighed and left his son alone. It was better if Fox returned to Washington and stayed there. As long as he wasn't with his father, he would not be able to ask him the questions that were burning in his mind. Let him become an FBI agent and let him fi nd out the truth. The cigarette smoking bastard that had caused all of this would have to find other ways to stop him. Wednesday, January 20 Margaret Scully sighed deeply as she left her daughter's hospital room. The young woman had finally fallen asleep, giving her the chance to leave and freshen up a bit. She saw Mulder's downtrodden face as the man stood outside, not knowing what to do. "She didn't mean it," Margaret finally said, hugging her daughter's friend. "She's just confused. We all are." "I know." Mulder attempted a smile as the woman passed him by. He felt years older now, almost her age. He could tell she'd been crying. They all had. Only some of them showed it. Tom Fielding felt more fear for the state of Mulder's mind than for the woman that lay inside the room. He knew Mulder well enough to see the empty depths inside his shallow eyes, staring into something only he could see. Not so long ago, Mulder had told him the story about his sister's abduction and the way it had destroyed the family. Then he had found out what had happened to Scully, her abduction, the return, the cancer. Based on his own experiences, Mulder had convinced Fielding that there was more to the world than could meet the eye, that there were people inside the government that caused innocent people to suffer. He had told him about some of the cases they had inve stigated, looking at Tom carefully as he did. It was almost as if he was challenging the man to run away from him, to get as far away as possible. Tom knew Mulder didn't have many friends. The geeky bunch called The Lone Gunmen (he had read some of their publications), a few friends here and there, and of course the people inside the bureau that cared more about him than he probably knew. Perhaps, t hat was why the man seemed to jump at the opportunity to have someone to trust. He trusted Tom, that was obvious. The question only was, to what length? Mulder still turned inward whenever something went wrong. He still didn't talk when trouble was at hand, and he still stared at Tom sometimes in surprise as if wondering why the man was there. But Mulder was working hard on changing his posture towards hi s friend. He tried. This time, however, Tom felt like shaking Mulder, forcing him to look at him and telling him to straighten himself up. But the dead look in the man's eyes stopped him, and all he could do was grasp his arm and say, "Don't do this to yourself, Mulder. This is not your fault! You weren't the one driving that truck. You could have been killed. Both of you could have. You could have been the one turning blind. Is that what you wanted?" "It would have been more bearable," Mulder quietly said, softly pulling himself free from his friend's grip. Tom stared in shock, knowing what went through the man's mind. "So that's what you wanted, then?" "I would kill myself if that's what it took to give her back her eyes." "Or you would just kill yourself trying to find that woman." Mulder smiled suddenly, but it was a smile that chilled his friend. "Yeah," he laughed almost hysterically, "Yeah, I would, if it would do any good. Is that what you wanted to hear, Tom?" Shocked, Tom let go of him and pointed his finger at Scully's hospital room. "That woman in there needs your help, Mulder. Face it, man. No matter how much you try, she will never blame you. She's confused right now, but she'll live. She'll cope with what has happened to her, but you need to help her. She needs you now more than ever. Go in there and tell her how you feel. How you really feel! How do you expect her to get through this when she doesn't have you to lean back on?" "She blames me." "Only because you blame yourself. You are not to blame, you hear me? Tell her that! She needs you, man. Go back in there." Mulder's face seemed to change from expression as he hesitated, not knowing what to do as he seemed to struggle to compose himself. Finally his hand rested on the doorknob and he opened it. It was as if he needed all the strength inside of him to do so. As they entered the room, a click was heard and then everything went quiet. She wasn't in her room. The bathroom door was closed. Mulder stood still as Tom walked over to it and knocked on it. "Scully?" No answer came and then he tried to open the door. It wasn't locked. Mulder stared through the room at the IV dangling next to the empty bed, leaving a trace of fluids on the floor. The sheets and blankets were pulled back, it was obvious she had been wai ting for her mother to leave. Then he heard a shout coming from the bathroom and as he walked over, he saw through the open door the face of a woman he hardly recognized. In shock, Mulder stared at her, as she sat on the floor with a piece of glass in her fingers. Small pieces of glas s were embedded in the palm of her hand. She had cracked the bathroom mirror with both fists, knocking against it so hard that it broke under her strength. Then she had taken one piece, obviously in an attempt to slash her own throat. "Oh, God," Mulder heard himself say. Tom ran outside to get help as his friend stepped forward and sank down next to his partner. Her hands were bleeding from the glass. Her fingers were gripped tightly around it and were moving blindly toward her throat. Mulder had known she couldn't live like this, and now it had finally come to this point. He grabbed both her hands with his good hand, holding her hands away from her throat. He squeezed her wrists hard and forced her to drop the glass. Then he pulled he r to him, as her face showed the expression of pure fear. She shivered and startled as he moved towards her. She pounded her fists against his chest, leaving blood on his clothes. He stared at it as an enormous pain shot through his body, and she damaged his ribs and body even more without knowing it. He didn't even wince when her fists hit him so hard. Mulder couldn't do anything but stare at her blood. She was the religious one. And now, she was one doing what her religion told her not to do. Sweet Jesus. She pushed herself away from him finally as she crawled closer up to the wall, protecting herself by putting her hands over her knees and rocking back and forth, her face covered with her own hair. He didn't try to move in closer, knowing how much she nee ded this bit of privacy still left. For days, people had bathed and dressed her. For days she had not had one inch of privacy. Now she needed this to survive. "Scully..." he almost choked on that one word, putting in all the terror and fear he felt for her. His body felt like it was going to explode soon. He needed to tell her how important she was for him. "Let me die..." she suddenly blurted out, and tears rolled down her cheeks as she rocked back and forth, back and forth. "Please, just let me die. I can't live like this." She was like a small child in need of comfort. Her words shocked him beyond repair. He stared at her as if he had never seen her before. This was not the Scully he knew but a woman created in a few days time, created by something beyond their reach. He sh ould have seen it coming. As others entered the room and looked at the scene, she suddenly turned towards him like a fury, her blind eyes staring into nothingness as she screamed, "Why did you have to drive? It's your fault! You caused this! I hate you! I wish you were dead. I'm g lad I can't see you anymore. I hate you! You killed my sister, now you've killed me!" He backed away from her and got up, his hand instinctively across his chest. He blocked out the physical pain but the mental one was still there. He ignored the others in the room and refused to stare at Bill Scully, whom he hadn't even seen before. In th e man's eyes lay all the hatred one human being could have for another. *You sorry son of a bitch.* He could almost hear the man thinking it. He watched from a distance as they calmed her down, putting her carefully back into the bed. She was cleaned up and bandaged, and he could hear the doctor whisper about her talking to a psychiatrist. They sedated her, leaving her in oblivion as her brothe r sat down next to her and stroked her hair. Her mind was gone. Everything was lost. Or so it felt. He stared at her pale, numb face and knew it. She would not live like this. She was too proud to depend on others. She wanted to die, and unless they stopped her, she would kill herself. She would end it all. Mulder turned and left the room, walking through the corridor when Skinner called out his name. He ignored it and kept on walking until he was in the cold air suddenly, shivering in his sweater and jeans. And there she was. Standing in the parking lot of the hospital, staring at him from under the hood of that black coat, and her eyes peered at him. Jesus, he knew those eyes! He had fallen in love with them so long ago. Now they weren't Scully's anymore. T hey were Lisa's. As illogical as it sounded, that's what he knew right now. She had taken Scully's eyes. And when he looked at her, he knew the time had come to listen to her offer, one she was more than willing to make. He stepped toward her, grabbed her arm and watched as she winced with pain from the force he used on her. "Easy now, Fox," she calmly said, her face in that grin he had seen so many years ago, "you don't want to harm the one person who can save your precious little partner, now can you?" Mulder let go of her and stared at her as she turned and walked to a waiting car. There, she turned and looked at him. She could see him struggle with his own thoughts. Would he go with her and take the risk, or have her arrested and charged and then watc h as everyone declared him nuts? "Well?" she said as she opened the door. He hesitated no longer and opened the passenger door, sliding into the vehicle next to her. As he did, he could see Tom leave the building and walk toward them, his face filled with fear and anger at the same time. The car left the lot quickly, driven by the woman that had become his nemesis. Mulder stared at his hands. Part II : A life for a life Wednesday, January 20 The woman had slim fingers and hands. She hummed as she drove her vehicle to the edge of town and glanced over at the man seated next to her. "Tell me how you've been, Fox," she asked, her voice soft and almost gentle as she showed genuine interest in her victim's life. "I'm sure you know," he responded, knowing what he read and saw in her eyes. "Who was the man that contacted you so long ago?" She whistled slowly. "So you remember." "Yeah. How did you know I had forgotten?" She smiled, "A little bird told me. Do you miss your father?" He swallowed away his anger and impatience, knowing he would be more than happy to kill her with his bare hands right now if she said one word wrong. "Yeah, I do. Did you miss your eyesight?" Her face changed expression quickly, her anger taking over as she clasped the steering wheel, forcing herself to stare forward. "It's been hell," she finally said, and a sense of sadness came over her. Mulder leaned back heavily against the seat as he stared at her, the pieces slowly falling together. He remembered the conversation between his parents. He remembered the promises and the contact his father had with the smoking man. How did the Smoking Ma n figure in all this? "Why don't you ask me the question?" she suddenly said, her voice filling the emptiness. "All right. Did you jump on purpose in front of my father's car?" She smiled. "What if I did?" "Then you alone were responsible for your blindness. How did you take Scully's eyes?" "It seems I wasn't quite the acrobat I thought I was. I was supposed to pretend to be injured, but I miscalculated and your father's car actually hit me. Would you believe me if I said I don't know how I took your partner's vision? I had the ability someh ow and I used it. Sounds irrational, doesn't it? I don't think your partner would believe me, but you do. Otherwise you wouldn't be in the car with me." "Why Scully? Why not me?" "I wanted to hurt you in the worst way that I could, and still help myself. You would give everything for her. You are irrational as well, Fox, to invest so much in one woman. Don't you know that the best men have fallen that way? Is she worth the fall?" "She's worth everything to me," he blurted out, swallowing the lump in his throat as he did, "I would die for her." She laughed again, taking the car out of town. As they did, she turned to him and said, "They would kill me if they knew I had taken you with me. He told me not to but I ignored him. I am enjoying my revenge on you and your father. Someone has to pay for what was done to me." "Someone has to pay?" "Yes, and I've decided it will be you." "An eye for an eye?" "And a life for a life. I'm sure Agent Scully wouldn't mind getting her eyes back, would she? And as for me .." she touched his face with her fingertips, "I've always loved hazel eyes." Her touch burned in his skin like a hot iron. Wednesday, January 20 The smoker found her hospital room easily. He knew her family and friends hadn't left it for days, not willing to give her what she wanted. In the hallway he found out she had tried to kill herself with a piece of glass, gashing her hands in the process. He almost smiled when he heard. He remembered the last time Scully had lain in a hospital bed. He had given her partner the cure for her illness, knowing and anticipating it would buy him his loyalty to the man he had always hated. But it hadn't. It had all backfired on him and it had n early cost the smoker his own life. He had paid dearly for his betrayal towards the Project and his loyalty to Fox Mulder. He had done it because of the last bit of feelings he still had for Teena Mulder, and for the growing respect he felt for the FBI agent struggling to survive in a world that was too tough for him. It had all gone wrong and then he had set the office on fi re, hoping this would stop the man. It hadn't. The trip to the Arctic had nearly cost the Project a valuable asset and a lot of time. Mulder seemed a man unable to be stopped. But everyone had his weak spot and Mulder's weakness lay inside that room, ready to give up. So many years ago, Lisa Messenger had been kept from destroying Bill Mulder and thereby damaging the Consortium. That she had turned out to have this strange abil ity was unforeseen, But why wouldn't someone use the power they possess for the greater good? Maybe these unforeseen circumstances could work on the Consortium's behalf. Why not take Dana Scully and use her against the one man that needs her more than anyone in the world. Us e her to stop his meddling in affairs that were best left alone. "What the hell are you doing here?" The smoker turned around to see the assistant director stare in anger at him, his hands clenching and unclenching, eager to punch out the Smoking Man's lights. "I came to see how Agent Scully was," he responded, resisting the urge to light a cigarette. For once he would respect the No Smoking sign, "I heard what happened so I thought I'd come and take a look for myself." "Scully's doing fine." "She's blind, isn't she?" "Yes." "I suppose this is the end of her career within the bureau, isn't it? I'm sure she won't be of much help to her partner without her eyes." Skinner bit his lip, not feeling the pain as his teeth entered the flesh and skin. "Why don't you leave?" The smoker smiled, his face wrinkled into an attempt to sound lighthearted as he said, "Tell her I'll see her soon." As he walked away he turned and grinned, "On the other hand, tell her I'll *talk* to her soon." His laughter was heard through the hallway . As the smoker left, he passed the young agent he had seen a few times before in Mulder's presence. Tom Fielding. An interesting character working for Terry Davis. A brilliant mind but still a rookie who believed in the common good. How long before the kid found out the world was filled with junkies and rotten apples? The kid passed him without hardly glancing at him. As the smoker touched the door, he felt a shiver down his spine. There was something in the young man's eyes he couldn't describe -- fear and anger perhaps. The smoker suddenly had an idea of what must ha ve happened. A sudden rage filled the Smoking Man as he stared at the busy parking lot. Mulder was with Lisa Messenger. And the woman would take his eyes. The smoker bit his lip and walked over slowly to his own car, taking out his cell phone. to be continued .. Subject: The Messenger 5/6 Wednesday, January 20 The men and woman sitting outside of Scully's hospital room all looked concerned, except for one. He was the one that couldn't care less what happened to Fox Mulder. As far as he was concerned, there was only one person responsible for the blindness of hi s sister, and Mulder had just taken off with another woman. "I don't understand why you defend him, Mom," Bill Scully muttered angry, ignoring his mother's fierce looks, "if he's so caring about Dana, where is he now?" Margaret Scully frowned. A long time ago she had stopped explaining to her son the bond that existed between Dana and her partner. Nor did she feel like explaining it to her son right now. For days, now, she had known that Fox Mulder was up to something, and just like the rest of them, she had ignored the feelings that brought her to this point in life where his fate might be something worse than death. She knew her daughter's blindness was an accident, but why did it feel like Mulder was the only one abl e to help her? And at what cost? "I don't know," she finally muttered and stared in concern at Dana's former boss, the only official within the FBI who seemed to care about what was going on. She sought out this man's help silently, hoping he would understand her plea for assistance. The man looked at her and nodded silently, and she saw the confirmation in his eyes that Fox Mulder was in grave danger. He didn't need to say it out loud for her to understand. "We'll find him," the man said seriously. He had been on the phone for over an hour now, giving the license plate from Lisa Messenger's car to every enforcement agency in the area. Sooner or later they would find him. But how much time did they have? "I can't sit around here until he's found," Tom Fielding had said, in his eyes the impatience that should have been Dana's. If Scully wasn't confined to a hospital bed, she would have been the one eager to jump in a car and find her friend. At least, she would have in the past. Now, her role seemed to have been taken over by the young man Maggie Scully trusted. Skinner had calmed him down, telling him explicitly that running around town was not going to help Mulder. A search for Lisa Messenger was underway. Skinner did not add the idea of talking to the smoker. It was no coincidence the man had been at the hospi tal just around the time Mulder had taken of. As Skinner's cell phone rang, the man excused himself and stepped away from the small party. A few seconds later the serious expression on his face told the others something had happened. "What is it, Mr. Skinner?" Margaret asked as she watched the man put away the cell phone in his pocket, "has Fox been found?" "On the outskirts of town, they've found the car Lisa Messenger was driving. There's no trace of Agent Mulder or his abductor. They're already scanning the area for them." "But?" "But there was blood inside the vehicle. We have no idea whose. Agent Mulder might be hurt." Maggie held her breath as she stared at her hands, not knowing what to think. She had always considered Fox a part of her family, ever since the day she had talked to him after her daughter's disappearance. He had seemed so helpless then, so very alone in the world. Now, he was alone again and she had no way of telling him how much she cared about what happened to him. She should have told him. She should have stopped him. Now it was too late. Bill Scully's voice seemed hard and cold in the corridor as he said, "Why are you worrying about a perfect stranger, Mom? It's your daughter in there you should be sitting with. She's the one who needs you now, not him." "Shut up, Bill." Maggie's voice was as cold and hard as her son's as she turned towards him, saying again, "Shut up, or leave." Bill Scully closed his mouth and stared at her in shock. Then he left her and entered his sister's hospital room. He felt anger and contempt -- for the man that had done this, but also for himself. What was it about Mulder that got other people to worry a bout him? And why was he, Bill Scully, worrying about him too? Wednesday, January 20 The car stopped as abruptly as the one his father had driven so many years ago. Having been preoccupied when he had gotten in the car earlier, Mulder had not buckled his seat belt, and now his face hit the dashboard hard, leaving him dazed and almost unco nscious as the vehicle stopped. "Damn it!" he heard himself mutter as he brought his hand to his face. A hint of blood on his face and fingertips, and on the dashboard. She smiled ironically, "Sorry. Guess I'm not used to driving anymore." He turned towards her, wiping his forehead with his fingers. "Should've let me drive." The car had stopped on a parking lot near the Whelmed Shopping Center. It was a slow day. Not many cars. A perfect place to dump a vehicle and get out. She opened the car door and looked at him. "You can still back away if you want, Fox. Do you?" "No." He left the car quickly, bringing his hand instinctively over his broken ribs. She watched him as he winced with pain, smiling as he did. It would be a while before he forgot the consequences of the accident, and it had only just begun. "Come with me, then." She started walking slowly towards a small building behind the center and used a key to get in. It was some sort of warehouse, stacked with empty and full boxes. It was large or at least large enough to harbor a vehicle. He watched a s she opened the gates, and waited until she had taken out the car. She closed the gates again and dropped the key into a mailbox just outside of it. When he went for the passenger seat again, she said, "You drive." "I can't." He lifted his damaged arm in the air. "You can drive with one hand. You drive." He sighed as he got in behind the steering wheel, wondering where she would take him. Right now, he didn't really care. The rest of the trip continued in silence as she had the agent drive to the Baltimore area. There, near another warehouse she made him stop and get out of the vehicle. He waited patiently until she got out as well, and opened the iron doors to the abandon ed building. As they walked inside, a pigeon was startled by their presence and flew out one of the cracked windows. *A pigeon in a building means bad news,* Mulder thought, remembering hearing these words once from a superstitious Irishman. *It's a foreboding of death.* She walked inside the building, looking at the scattered wood and piles of iron on the floor. "What is this place?" Mulder asked, noticing the strange sadness in her eyes. "My father used to own this building," she spoke softly and for the first time since he met her she seemed sad and honest. "The place went down when he joined in a partnership with a group of people for shipping iron overseas. They were a strange bunch of people, you know. They had him working hard, and he earned his keep well. Then it suddenly stopped. Something was wrong and they jumped ship. He never knew why. They told him never to tell anyone about their partnership. He had to destroy the papers and invoices and contracts they had made. Their boss was a strange character, a German. He owned a number of companies." "Where did your father ship his goods to?" "Virginia. Some old abandoned mining company. The German was never there when he delivered the goods and he never knew what they were used for. There was a lot of work going on in there and then it suddenly stopped. My father returned there once after it was over. There wasn't a sign of them. But he was spotted. They followed him and stopped him and he disappeared for three days. When he was gone, a man approached me and told me I would not see my father again. He'd had a massive stroke and was in a coma. He would not regain consciousness. The man brought me to see him in a hospital in Washington. I watched the man in that bed and knew it wasn't my father. It was just a vegetable. All life had been drained from him. He died that night." She had taken a seat and was now simply staring in front of her, her eyes filled with tears. Her thoughts were in the past, far gone. "The man told me my father had seen things that weren't meant for him. He said that people punished him for it and caused his stroke. He said that a man named Bill Mulder was responsible." Mulder held his breath as he sat opposite her and listened to her story. "You believed him?" he asked softly. "Of course I did. What other choice had I? He had taken me to see my father before he died. I wanted to believe him, I did believe him. I had no other choice." "So the man set up a scheme with you to punish my father for his wrong doing, is that it?" "Yeah." She smiled. "It was very simple in fact. The man told me he needed to have a hold on Bill, saying that he would be the one punishing Bill but that I needed to help him. I needed to cause an accident. I would risk my life but it would be worth it. I had nothing to lose at the time. My father was gone, I had no family. I was on the brink of suicide anyhow. I was always good at gymnastics and figured I could probably get out of this in one piece. And if I didn't... He knew exactly when Bill would be there and I jumped in front of his car. But I didn't jump onto the hood and over the car in time and I was hit and turned blind." "So how did he give you your eyesight back?" "He didn't." She lifted her face and looked straight at him. "I think I did it myself. I started concentrating on the world outside of my sight, you see. I started to see things as others saw them, and concentrated on that. I simply started seeing people and things without needing my eyes. It was strange." *You don't need eyes to see, you need vision.* "How did you do it?" "I don't know. I don't care. I knew that I could take anyone's eyes if I wanted to, but I took hers because I wanted to get back at you." "How does the Smoker figure in all this after your accident?" "He provided for me. I wanted revenge, and he told me to lay off you but I couldn't. I wouldn't. Because at the end I am punishing someone else for something I want to finish with you. And because I know you would do anything to help that cute partner of yours. That's why I'm here with you right now. To offer you a deal" "You want me to turn blind instead of my partner?" She laughed. "Yeah." He straightened his back and looked around, not knowing what to respond. He knew he wanted Scully's eyesight to return. He would do anything to get her back what she wanted. But how would he cope? He bit his lip and stared at her. "All right." She smiled and touched his face slightly with the tips of her fingers. "I brought you here to let you know why I'm doing this, Fox. I won't take your eyes right now. Go back to her and sit with her so she knows. I'm not a monster. Enjoy the end of the day and the night as long as you still can. And in the morning I'll take your hazel eyes." Mulder swallowed the lump in his throat and slowly got out of his chair. She would simply let him go without attempting to stop him. He walked over to the door and turned around to look at her. Her face seemed extremely young and vulnerable. Now he knew w hy she was doing it, self-preservation. It was the basis for every human being. He couldn't even be angry at her anymore. She had done what she had to do. She wanted back the life she had given up so many years ago under false pretenses. Now she would sta rt to live again. "I'm sorry about your father," he slowly said with his hand already on the door. "My father did not kill yours. He was involved in a project our government cooked up. The man that approached you is one of the key players in this project. If you want to kn ow what happened to your father, talk to him. And the German that made the deal with your father is called Strughold. The Strughold Mining Co. in Virginia. I'm sorry, Lisa." She didn't respond as he left the building and started to walk until he was able to hail a cab. A while later he was back in Washington. Wednesday, January 20 In the middle of the night, the hospital corridors were abandoned, except for a few nurses that strolled around and checked on their patients. She was alone in her room now. He had waited until her family had left. He knew everybody was looking for him. H e had heard it on the radio. He had not called anyone since his return, knowing that he would have to give them answers. But he couldn't. Not just right now. He would return to his apartment in the early morning, after spending some time with her. He would probably have to talk to Skinner in the morning, but not right now. This moment in the night was for him and his partner, even if that partner was in a drug -induced sleep. She stirred slightly as he sat down next to her bed, remembering the last time he had done that. She had been dying of cancer then, and he had taken her hand in his and had cried silent tears without tasting the salty water in his mouth or on his lips. Now he was here again but there was no time for tears or crying. He needed to see her and know he was doing the right thing. She was dying. Her mind was killing her. She could not live without her eyes, and he would be responsible for her death. He could not take that responsibility onto himself. He might be able to live without his eyes, but she wouldn't. He touched her eyelids with the tips of his fingers and remembered the brightness in Lisa Messenger's own eyes when she stared at him. He bent forward and kissed her on the lips, favoring the taste for a long time. He resisted the urge to wake her and tel l her. She would not understand. The door softly opened. Mulder was startled by the sight of Bill Scully. The man seemed just as surprised to see him, then regained his speech and said, "So you did just take off. Do you like having your friends worry about you, Mulder?" Mulder didn't respond but backed away from the woman in the bed. Bill looked at him with the anger of someone who sees his most loved one die in front of him. Besides the anger there was also the defeat. "I don't care what you think," Mulder said softly, "I know what I have to do. I know what kind of mess I have caused everyone around me. I'll deal with the consequences myself. I've chosen a path which I'm going to pursue now." "Do that and leave her alone. Dana doesn't need you anymore. You weren't there when she was in pain. Get out, Mulder." Mulder took out an envelope from his pocket and gave it to the man that disliked him so much. "Would you mind giving this to Scully in the morning? Or read it to her?" To his surprise Bill Scully didn't even object. "Sure." Defeated Mulder walked over to the door and threw one last glance at her. He knew it would be the last time he saw her. "She'll be fine in the morning," he muttered, "you'll see." He left Bill Scully with his sister. Outside the building Mulder hailed a cab and ordered the driver to take him home. The apartment building was dark. No one seemed to be watching for him. It would give him the chance to deal with the situation before the situation dealt with him. Wednesday, January 20 Tom knew his friend had come home as soon as the door was opened with a key. After he had left the hospital he had come here, somehow knowing Mulder would find a way to come here. He was right. "Mulder ..." The man at the door seemed surprised by Tom's presence. "Tom, what are you doing here? It's the middle of the night." "How did you escape her?" Mulder laughed. "There didn't have to be an escape. She didn't abduct me, you know." "Where is she?" "I don't know." Tom got out of the couch and stared at his friend just standing there, scanning the room as if he had never seen it before. "Mulder, what's going on?" The agent threw his keys on the table and sat down. "I don't know." Tom turned on a light and stopped in surprise, staring at the pale features of his friend. The man looked like he'd been through hell. His face was twisted with pain and something else .. a sense of defeat. Something had happened. He noticed the way the m an held on to his chest and bit his lip against the sharp pain that seemed to be a constant reminder of the accident. He noticed the way Mulder took in every single item in his apartment. "Tom, I would like you to go home. I'm tired and I'd like to get some sleep." Mulder's voice wasn't sharp when he said it, nor did it sound angry or relentless. It was just a remark like any other remark. "Don't you owe me an explanation?" "No. Please, just go home." Tom bit his lip and said, "Okay, I'll go. But I'll be back in the morning, Mulder. You are going to talk about this. If not to me, then at least to someone you do trust." Mulder sighed deeply and hid his face between his hands. It wasn't a matter of trust. As his friend left, he lay himself down on the coach and turned on the TV, muting the sound. He didn't need to hear the sounds nor the conversations between the artifici al characters. They could only have it better than those who lived in reality. Thursday, January 21 Hours later he woke up in complete darkness. The room had changed somehow. He could feel it as he lay on the couch with closed eyes. He didn't want to open them right now. He knew what was going to happen. He wanted to postpone the inevitable and ignore t he fact his wish had come true. It was immensely still in the room and he opened and closed his mouth, like a fish catching its air. He flung his eyes open and stared into nothingness. Everything was dark around him. Not a glare of light he could see coming through the curtains. Not a g limpse of the people on the TV even though he knew it must have still been playing. He touched the couch and table, his hand stretching out to feel the familiar furniture he had chosen years ago when moving into this apartment. Nothing had changed but he could feel the fabric and wood as if he had never felt it before. The table still ba red the curves and scratches caused by him, the fabric of the couch still felt the same under his weight. Carefully, he got up and made his way to the window. He tripped and hit the chair, dropping it on the floor. He didn't yell as his knee hit it hard, making him struggle to gain his posture. He found the curtains and opened them. The windows were ice cold, but there was warmth coming in from the outside. A pale winter sun that was brightening up the world. He could actually feel a sense of it on his face. It had to be daytime. His hand reached instinctively for the phone to call Scully. But then he realized what was happening. He couldn't get her to help. It was for her this was happening. No one could know, not until it was all over. And it would be over soon. *Oh, God, Scully , please have your eyes back. Please be all right.* He couldn't see. He was convinced there was a woman called Lisa Messenger out there right now with hazel eyes. She saw the world through him now, and had returned Scully her eyesight. It didn't matter how it happened. It just did. The phone rang. The noise startled him. It lay on the table and he tripped while getting it, feeling the edge of the table too late. Another sharp pain shot through his chest as he fell and hit his chest hard on the wood. He was not cut out for blindness. Everything that seemed so familiar had become his enemies. He would not make it like this, not when the world was working against him. Even in this apartment, his safe harbor, he was surrounded by things that seemed strangers to him now. He grabbed the phone, ignoring the strange pains and sensations in his chest. His eyes seemed to ache as if something has scratched them. "Yeah," he said hoarsely into the speaker. He was greeted with a muffled voice, and then someone familiar said, "Fox, it's Maggie. You'd better come to the hospital quick. Something's happened." *Oh, God, it's too late. She's dead and I killed her. Oh please don't tell me this is true. I can't stand it.* "Fox?" "Yeah." He found a seat on the couch, still grasping the phone in his good hand. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable news. He wanted to hang up and not listen to Maggie's voice. He couldn't hear it over the phone." "Fox, are you coming down?" "What happened to her?" "Fox, a miracle has happened. I don't know how to explain it. You need to see it for yourself. Dana is asking for you. You need to come down here and talk to her, Fox! Fox, I don't know how to explain it, but she can see again! She woke up this morning an d her eyesight had returned. She's okay, Fox! She needs you. She wants to see you." Mulder almost passed out with relief as he clasped the receiver against his ear. Scully could see again. And he was blind. Thursday, January 21 The phone was somewhere on the floor. He could hear Maggie's voice as she tried to get him to talk to her again. Then a click and she was gone. He slid off the couch onto the cold floor, found the correct button to turn off the phone, and ended up on the floor hiding his face between his hands. He could feel salt tears on his lip now, but he wasn't crying for himself. He cried for the one that was most important to him. The one he would have done anything for. For him it wouldn't matter anymore. He could feel it as he sat down on the floor. He had traded his eyes with Scully's, now he would trade his life with hers. She had been on the verge of suicide, now she was okay. Her life for his. Mulder smiled suddenly, and he could feel laughter from the deepest of his insides. It was worth it! Everything that was happening here was worth everything that would be coming soon. He didn't know how much time passed. He spent it sitting on the floor, recapturing her image that was engraved into his mind. Was this blindness? Capturing the images you've gathered throughout your life so you can see them from your mind's eye? He got up with difficulty and stood in the middle of the room. The cars outside. Why had he never heard them before? Noises outside the apartment. Footsteps approaching the door. They stopped in front of it. A knock. "Mulder?" He recognized Tom's voice. He didn't answer. "Mulder, open the door." He knocked continuously, knowing instinctively his friend was inside and in trouble. Mulder didn't bother to tell him he was in there. A rummaging of keys and Tom unlocked the door, letting himself in. He had Scully's keys. Mulder took a seat on the couch and sat in the darkness. He could hear Tom's footsteps in the room, and then the man approached him. "Mulder? Are you okay?" A silence and then he sat down next to his friend, looking straight into Mulder's eyes. Mulder stared back, but his eyes were dead. Tom held his breath as he stared into the blindness of his friend. All the light was gone. *Sweet Jesus,* Tom thought, *He' s become Scully.* "Mulder, tell me this isn't true. Oh, God, this can't be true." Mulder could feel some sort of movement, perhaps a hand being held in front of his eyes. "It's true." Mulder confirmed it with ease, actually smiling as he did. Tom knew why. He had given Scully back what she wanted the most and to Mulder that was all that mattered. "How?" Tom asked hoarsely. "I don't know. She offered me the deal and I accepted." "Your eyes for Scully's?" He asked the question as if they were discussing the price of bread. "My life for hers." "No." Tom got up from the couch. Mulder could hear him walk, and then another movement as if he had turned. "I don't understand," he said confused, his voice small and near silence. "Your life?" "Scully couldn't go on like this. I couldn't let her go on like this. We all make choices in our life. I have made mine." "By offering yourself to save her? What kind of choice is that?" Tom's voice sounded angry and confused as he sat down again. The man shivered with anger. "Mulder, don't you do this to yourself, you hear? This can't be happening. Oh, God, this isn't real. " Mulder actually smiled, leaned back on the futon and said weakly, "It's too late. It's over. It's done." "I don't accept that. We can do something about this. We can look for that woman. We need to get you to a hospital. You're... this can't be happening. Oh Jesus." Mulder couldn't help but wonder why his friend was so upset. It hadn't been his choice to make. The phone rang again, startling the men in the room. Mulder listened as his friend picked up. "Yeah, he's right here. No, something's wrong. It's difficult to explain. Yeah, I hear them. Okay, I'll go to the hospital with him." A knock on the door startled Mulder and he wanted to get up and open it, forgetting for one second he was blind. Then Tom was already on his feet and Mulder could hear him speak again to the men entering the room. Skinner was among them. Walter Skinner was the first one to enter the room. The sight he found left him as stunned as Tom just a couple of minutes before. The man sitting on the couch was obviously blind. Bright light was shining in through the window, but Mulder's pupils were c ompletely dilated. The expression on his face spoke of defeat and relief at the same time. Skinner didn't know what to do. He found himself taking a seat on the couch next to his former agent. "Hey, Mulder," he sat soothingly, actually putting his hand on Mulder's. Fox Mulder stared back with his dead eyes, picturing him as he was sitting there. *I wish I had the chance to get to know him better,* the agent thought, already saying his goodbyes silently. *I wish I could have told him the truth. I wish he would find a way to help me out of this mess.* "Hey sir," Mulder finally said quietly. Skinner bit his lip and stared at Tom's startled face. Neither men knew what to say or do. There were more men in the room now. They must have read the letter he had given Scully. "We were worried about you, Mulder," Skinner said, "Scully received a disturbing letter from you. Do you remember what you wrote her?" "Yeah, of course. I told her she would be okay and that I would take her place. I said goodbye to her and wished her well." "How did you know this was going to happen?" "Lisa Messenger. She offered me a deal." "Did you take anything, Mulder? Did you do this to yourself?" Mulder laughed. "No. I know you don't believe me, but I made a deal with Lisa. She offered me a choice and I accepted it. I'm glad I did. I caused this to begin with. Scully needs her eyes. Her family needs her." "Don't you think Scully is the one feeling guilty now?" Mulder turned towards him, and stretched his hand to feel the man's face. His former boss just sat there and let his agent put his fingertips on his glasses. Mulder withdrew and said, "She has enough people to take care of her. After all, I was the one dr iving the car. It was my father who started all of this. There was no reason for Scully to suffer for him." Skinner sighed. "We need to get you to a hospital, Mulder. If your eyes are damaged, we need to know how or why. You don't look too good. Are you in any pain?" "No," Mulder lied, ignoring the pain in his chest. It wouldn't do anyone any good, "I'm fine." "We all know that's a lie, Mulder," Skinner said not unfriendly, "there are paramedics here. We're going to take care of you, all right?" "No gurneys. I'm blind, not sick." "All right. Come on." Mulder could feel a strong hand lift him from the couch, and the hand was protective and strong and helpful. He could feel the pity and sympathy in the men's eyes as they watched him struggle with his blindness. He straightened his back and walked forward , step by step and guided by them. Outside, there was an ambulance waiting for them. He refused to lie down but sat in the back of the vehicle and let them take his blood pressure and vitals. All of it didn't matter. Then the vehicle started moving and he could picture it as it drove through the city streets. They would pass his favorite spots, the bench near the Potomac, the view on the river, the buildings that made Washington such an amazing city. He would never se e them again. The man in the vehicle next to him didn't know what to say. Skinner had offered to take the ride with him, but for the first time in his life he didn't know what do. He felt helpless as a baby. He didn't know how to offer his help. He didn't even know if the man he thought he knew so well wanted his help. He just sat back and watched him, wondering why and how all of this was happening. Thursday, January 21 There was something strange about the way Mulder responded to the questions the doctors asked him. He was almost non-responsive even though he was wide awake and showed no signs of a concussion, an illness or anything else that could explain his sudden bl indness. The tests were still ongoing when Dr. Roberts spoke to the man's supervisor, not even knowing Walter Skinner wasn't even supposed to be there. He didn't really care. Agent Mulder's next of kin was in the hospital herself, one of his own patients. Only 24 hours ago he had seen her go crazy because she was blinded for life. Now it was her partner, the man he had seen holding her and comfort her, that had turned blind. Now it was this man that worried him. It was almost as if the two had traded places. The darkness that Dana Scully would have had to encounter for the rest of her life was taken over by her partner and friend. Scully's blindness could have been explained medically. The woman had suffered majo r trauma to her eyes after being involved in an accident. But who could explain Fox Mulder's sudden blindness? There wasn't a medical explanation for the fact, nor could there be a psychological one. The doctor had never heard of anyone forcing himself blind beyond repair just by mentally thinking about it. It s imply could not be true. There was the small matter of the head injury that Mulder had suffered the night before. He had explained how he had hit his head hard against the dashboard, and been dazed for a while. The pain, however, had resided into a dull headache that was slowly w ithdrawing. The doctor did not leave out the possibility the blow might have caused neural damage, thus leaving the man blind. Scans, however, showed no damage on the inside. The blow had been too minor to cause blindness. "Then what has caused this?" Walter Skinner asked firmly, demanding answers to questions none of them knew how to ask properly. Skinner had been in the small ER cubicle ever since they had brought Mulder in and started the tests on his eyes. He had listen ed to the man's soft voice as he answered standard questions but refused to give any further explanations on his whereabouts the previous day. It was Tom Fielding that explained how Mulder had returned home the previous night without telling him the exact facts or events. "I'm at a loss here, Mr. Skinner," the doctor said, "to be frank, I've never seen anything like it. I cannot explain Agent Mulder's sudden blindness, nor can I tell you how his partner suddenly regained her eyesight. The answers I believe lie with Agent M ulder. He knows but refuses to tell us anything." "I know," Walter Skinner sighed, "can I talk to him?" "Of course. There's nothing physically wrong with Agent Mulder. He is still suffering from the injuries due to the accident, but those will have to heal in due time. I would like to admit him and perform further tests to find out what's going on. Agent Mu lder refuses to be admitted. However, since you are his immediate supervisor .." "I'll sign the necessary papers," Skinner interrupted him, "I just want to find out what the hell is going on." "What about the woman Agent Fielding has mentioned?" "There's an ongoing search for her. We're doing everything we can. It seems she's the key to this whole mess, so she'll have to be found." Dr. Roberts nodded. "All right. One more thing, Mr. Skinner. Mr. Mulder refuses to talk to his partner. She's been requesting to see him and frankly I see no reason why not. But I'm worried about Agent Mulder's state of mind. He's becoming rapidly depress ed. I would like to keep him monitored around the clock." "I'll make sure Agent Mulder is not left alone," Skinner quickly said, dreading the moment he would have to do something against Mulder's wishes. He had respect for the man. "Thank you." The doctor nodded slightly and returned to the ER cubicle. Through the glass and open curtains Skinner could see his agent sitting on a bed, waiting patiently while the tests were being performed. Suddenly the agent turned his face to the gla ss and stared straight back at him. Skinner instinctively backed away, even though he knew Mulder could not see him. Mulder slowly smiled. Skinner froze and chilled. Now he understood it all. Mulder *had* taken her place. And to him it was all worth it. Every single shiver of hurt and pain that went through him was worth it to him because Scully would live and be in one piece. He wasn't only trading his eyes for hers, he was also trading his life. to be continued .. Subject: The Messenger 6/6 Thursday, January 21 Dana Scully had awoken before daybreak into the darkness of her room. She lay still for hours, dreading the moment she would have to be forced to open her eyes and come to terms once again with the fact she was blind. She moaned deeply, letting air suck i nto her lungs eagerly. The dizziness and sleepiness inside her head and mind were clearing quickly, leaving her with the distinct feeling something had changed. There was no one in the room for once. She had fallen asleep with her mother's hand on hers, telling her it would all be all right. She had cried and shouted and gone crazy the night before, and she had screamed at the one man she cared about the most. It was her fault that he had taken off and was missing. She wanted to get out of this bed and find him, but she couldn't. Reality bites hard. Slowly, she opened her eyes and stared into the darkness. Was this her fate for the rest of her life? Would she be wondering about the sun and the moon forever? She tried to turn on her side and sink back into that darkness. At least, when she was asleep, she could forget it all. But something *had* changed. She knew it as soon as she turned over, and stared at her hands. There was something different. The darkness was slowly changing into shadows. She could see her hands! In shock she stared at her arms, wrists, hands and fingers , gasping at the sight. This had to be a dream. She was still asleep and dreaming that she could see again. Oh, God. She turned quickly on her back again and stared at the ceiling. Spots of lights and traces of shadows were playing with her. She stared aside, directing her gaze at the window next to her. She could see the sun peering through the curtains. Oh, God, she c ould see again! Clumsily she pushed herself up on both elbows, reaching for the alarm above her. As she pushed the button frantically, she pulled away the blankets and stared at her legs, covered only with the long, white hospital gown. She could see her legs, her knees, her feet. She could bring her hands to them and touch them and see them. The door opened quickly. She turned her head to see her mother enter the room, accompanied by her brother and a nurse. "Dana," her mother said and she could focus on her mother's face and see her, "what's wrong?" Dana stretched out her arms and hands and touched her mother's face as if she was still blind. But she could look straight into her mother's eyes and see the tears her mother had shed for her for so long. Then she turned to see her brother's blue eyes. He r gaze went down to see an envelope in his hand. She looked up again and knew it wasn't a dream. Mulder, she had to talk to Mulder. "Mom, I can see." She almost choked on the words, not believing them herself. Then she repeated it for herself, flavoring them on her lips. "I can see, Mom!" Maggie Scully didn't know how to react or what to do when her daughter repeated these words and quickly slid out of bed, letting go of her mother. The woman walked firmly up to the bathroom door, in nothing to be compared with the woman she had been only a day before. She opened the door, turned on the bathroom lights and stared at her own bruised face for minutes. She could see them in the mirror and turned around and repeated it, "I can see!" It was without a doubt these words were enough to stir the entire floor. The nurse left and returned with her doctor and more nurses. More doctors came into the room and they all stared at her as if she was a miracle. She sat down on the side of the bed a nd smiled and laughed as they probed her and scanned her and performed every single test on her they could perform. She had her eyesight back. She could see again. Through it all, Bill Scully stood in the corner of the room, feeling the envelope in his hand. Eventually he tore it open and read the note Mulder had left for his partner. He bit his lip as he did, understanding now. While the excitement in the room brok e loose, the one man that detested Fox Mulder probably the most in the world, knew the sacrifice the man had made for his sister. Bill Scully didn't believe in little green men or the work Mulder had dedicated his lifetime to. He didn't care for all the encounters with monsters and bugs and strange viruses. But this time he did believe. He could read it in Mulder's eyes when the man left the night before. And now it was on a note, in black and white. Bill finally stepped forward and handed his sister the note, watching her pale face and disturbed expression as she read. As she looked up, she said frantically, "Where is he, Bill?" "I don't know, Dana." The euphoria from the moment had vanished. Scully was near tears as the men that were concerned about her partner entered the room and read the note. A few minutes later they left to retrieve him. She wanted to go as well, but Skinner refused. She put up a fight but gave in eventually. They all dreaded the sight they might find when they left for Mulder's apartment. She didn't want to go there and find him in whatever state he was in. She wasn't ready for it yet. Hours later, the inevitable news came that her partner had been found. And that he was blind. Thursday, January 21 The smoker knew where to find her. It was so obvious, in fact, where she would be. For her, there was nowhere else to go. She had no family, no friends, nothing to fall back upon. She had screwed up and now she would have to pay the price. Everybody that didn't do as they were told paid a price in the end. She sat in the corner of the large open room, staring at the bricks and iron that lay in front of her. She knelt down with her hands in the dirt, letting it slip through her fingers. She seemed fourteen years old. He could just picture her playing her whe n she was a kid, while her father was working for a project he didn't even know existed. He lit a cigarette as he walked over to her. He had come alone. Nobody knew about the deal they had made so long ago, nor would they ever. He had found out about her gift too late. But he had warned her against going after Mulder. Blinding Mulder was not part of the plan he had in store for the young man. He had wanted to take this opportunity to reign Mulder back in, to offer him his partner's eyes in exchange for his complete loyalty. The last time he had offered Mulder a deal, it had almost backfired o n the both of them. This time the deal would have been perfect. He would have made an end to the threat Fox Mulder had become the day the FBI had enlisted him. Thirteen years ago he had told Bill Mulder to keep his son from his plans. It had not worked. Today, he might have the perfect tool to work with. But he needed to get Mulder back on track. If not, it was all over. Lisa Messenger looked up at him with tears in her eyes. He almost felt sorry for her. In shock he stared at the color of her eyes. It had changed into hazel, the color of Fox's eyes. He chilled as he realized the extent of the situation. It needed to be r eversed. "It's too late for changes," she said slowly, touching her eyes with her fingertips, "I've made my choice, so has Fox." "It wasn't your choice to make, Lisa." She smiled wryly. "Of course it was. I'm the one with the talent, remember? It was your fault I was blinded in the first place. Would you trade his eyes for yours?" "No." She laughed near hysterics, "I thought so. Why is he so important to you? He's your enemy. His father was your enemy." "He's not my enemy, never was. The things he does are what I have a problem with. When you're in the business of hiding secrets, the one thing that becomes a threat to you is the person that wants to expose those secrets." "But you pushed him into this business, didn't you? You let his mother talk to you and you backed away thirteen years ago. All the secrets he has already uncovered might be too important for you to protect, yet at the same time you seem to invite him to d iscover them. Why?" The man bit his lip and didn't respond. The truth was something only he knew. He was not about to tell her. He looked down on her as he approached her. She seemed small and insignificant, yet at the same time she had succeeded in ruining the plans he had for the FBI agent. It needed to be reversed quickly. She seemed to understand. She slowly shook her head, saying, "No. He wanted to trade. An eye for an eye, a life for a life. She was going to kill herself. He offered his life for her." "Are you saying he's going to die?" She smiled wryly again. "Who knows? That depends on him, doesn't it? How strong is he, you think? Will he withstand what has happened to him? Perhaps you underestimate his strength. He might want to go on living, even in darkness." "What will it take for you to reverse it?" "The truth. I want to know who killed my father." He stared at her back. "Bill Mulder did." "You're a liar." "I don't lie." She smiled and turned towards him. "You know, the one thing that I'm not afraid of is losing my life. You need me, don't you? You want to figure out how I did it. You know I alone can give him back what he wants. So you'd better be nice to me." He resisted the urge to bludgeon her with one of the bricks on the cement floor. She was right. He needed her. At least, for now. "Good," she said, "I'm glad we came to an understanding. Now, why don't you take me with you into town and we can talk a deal?" She turned her back to him as she walked over the cement floor to the large iron factory doors. He followed her from a distance. Friday, January 22 Mulder could feel a hand on his wrist and knew who it was but he didn't respond. The grip felt safe and protective, yet at the same time he dreaded the feel of it. The time had finally come to face her and tell her what he had done. But he knew she alread y knew. He could feel it in the way she approached him and talked to him. "Mulder, I know you're awake in there. I don't know what to say." He opened his mouth and sucked in the air to fill his lungs. He had been lying in this bed for the past evening and night, wondering how he would ever get out of this mess. The answer was, he didn't. They wouldn't let him alone in the room. They were afra id he would try to kill himself. He had become Scully. Scully had become him. He wondered what she looked like right now. The last time he saw her she was covered with blood and bruises, attempting to slash her throat. Her voice seemed calm and self-assured now. She had recovered from the pain that others had caused her. She was re covering still. "Scully, leave me alone," he spoke with closed eyes. He didn't want her to see his dead eyes. It would shock her as it had shocked him. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" she asked softly, her fingers still touching his wrist. "No." "Why not?" "It's not important." "How can you say that? It's your life, Mulder! Why can't you fight for yourself like you did for me?" "It's not important," he repeated, savoring the thought of her as she had been in his arms outside his apartment. He had wanted to kiss her so eagerly and had taken the chance to feel her. What might have happened if she hadn't been stung? Would they have ended up in bed together, creating a new start to their relationship? He knew she was crying. He could see it in his mind's eye. She was sitting next to the bed and cried. He was hurting her again. He always hurt her. "You should go," he said abruptly, making a deliberate distance between them. She held her breath. He knew she was startled by his sudden exclamation. "Yeah," he said repeated, "go now. It's time for you to leave and get on with your life." "Do you possibly think I could?" she said sharply, her hand still clasping his. She refused to let go of him, knowing how much she needed to feel his warm skin next to hers. She was the one who struggled now. He was the one staring into the darkness. "Of course you can. I'm not going to kill myself, Scully. I'll go on with my life. It's best that you leave." "I know what you're trying to do, Mulder." "Go now!" he said loudly. "Leave me alone." "I don't want to leave you." He sighed deeply and opened his eyes. She was shocked to see all the light vanished from them. It was strange, surrealistic. And shocking. "Oh, God," she exclaimed, and her fingers went up to his face, touching his eyelashes. "Oh, Mulder." He turned away from her and closed his eyes. The echoes in his head seemed to scream in pain. She didn't hear it. Quickly she turned and did as he asked her. She left the room, leaving him alone in the darkness. The rules that had counted for Scully were also counting for him. He knew he couldn't live like this. He would never be able to find out what had happened to his sister, and what the government was up to. He needed all his instincts and trades to work on discovering the truth. Without his eyes, ev erything he had worked for was gone. Mulder was tired of staying in the room. He didn't want to be cooped up in here. Quickly, he slid out of the bed, and headed for the walls, carefully avoiding any obstacles that could make him trip. Eventually, he found the closet with his clothes. He gra bbed them and reached for his shoes on the bottom shelve. It took a while before he was able to find the bed again, but then he laid everything on it and probed with his fingers until he found his shirt and jeans. He felt vulnerable in the hospital gown. The broken wrist was making it difficult for him to get dressed. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Scully said angrily as she found him half-dressed in his room. Within a second she was at his side and started tugging at the shirt he had painfully put on. "Scully, leave it. I'm getting out of here. I thought I told you to get out!" "When have I ever listened to you, Mulder? I thought you might be up to something. You're not going anywhere. You don't have anywhere to go!" "Yes, I do." "Where would you go?" Impatiently he pulled the sweater from her hands and started tugging it over his neck. She knew he wasn't about to answer her, but he did. "I'm going on. I'm not sick, Scully. I'm blind. People live with blindness." "Not you, Mulder," she said quietly, putting the finger on the sore spot. "You know I can't leave you alone. I know you too well to know what you are going to do. Don't you even try to deny it. We need to talk about this before it devours you alive." His dead eyes were pried into hers now. She couldn't stand for it. She wanted to see him look at her again, she wanted to hear him say how much he needed her again. She didn't want this. Not like this. He sank down on the bed. Suddenly, out of nowhere, tears seemed to blink in his eyes and he stuck out his good hand, leaving the other one in the cast against his chest. "I can't do this," he said hoarsely, almost begging her silently to hug him. She unde rstood. The next moment she was next to him and her arms were around him in a fierce caress. "I know," she croaked softly, knowing just what he felt right now. If he had traded his eyes for hers, how would she be able to return the favor? How would this mess ever come to an end? "I know, Mulder, but you're not alone. I'm right here with you." "Then help me find her. Please, Scully. I know you believe in it, in what she has done. We need to find her again and find a way out of this mess." "Then tell me exactly what has happened. I need to know every detail. There must be something we can do and we will find it. But you can't give up hope that it will be okay, all right? Don't give up." He nodded slightly. The following moment he felt her hands tug at the sweater and pull it over his neck. Carefully she pulled it over his chest and pulled his broken wrist through it, reattaching the sling. Then she helped him stand up. She tugged at his sweater as well. He could feel her warm fingers as she buttoned it up, and knew that in other circumstances they would probably be on the verge of making wild love. Now was not the time. "All right," she said finally after helping him with his shoes, "let's go find her. But we can't use the FBI resources, Mulder. According to Skinner she's dead. All the tracks leading to her are gone." "The only chance we stand is to go back to that warehouse her father owned," Mulder said. "But she won't be there. But she'll get in touch with us." "How can you be so sure?" "I don't know." He smiled wryly. "Call it a hunch." She offered a helping hand eagerly, hoping he would accept it. Gratefully he leaned upon her as they left the room under her directions. There was no one else in the hallway who could stop them. She was grateful for it. She didn't want to explain right no w what was going on. She didn't even understand it herself. Friday, January 22 The woman sat down calmly opposite the man offering her the deal. Money and power didn't matter to her. All she wanted was to find out the truth about her father's death. The smoker gave it to her. He confessed to her he was partly responsible for her fat her's death, revealing the details that had been lingering for so many years. She listened to it with detachment, wondering what would happen next. She had found out the truth now, and it was all that mattered. For herself, she had already decided that this was the end. She would go to the second site and stay there until it was ov er. Then she would say goodbye to the world. "Can I go, now?" she said with detachment as she got up after listening to his story. The smoker seemed disappointed in her reaction but nodded and said, "Okay. I'm counting on you, Lisa." "I would like to hitch a ride from you if you don't mind. I need to make a phone call." The smoker guided her to his car and watched as she got in. Then she picked up his cell phone and dialed a number. He listened to her as she talked to the woman on the other side, and then hung up. She looked at the smoker as she handed back the gun. "It's done," she said. "Good." Following her directions, they drove to a second site her father had owned before his death. It was situated in Virginia, near the Strughold Mining Co. It seemed appropriate to end it all here. Friday, January 22 Scully felt uncomfortable after her phone conversation with Lisa Messenger. The young woman's voice had sounded defeated and sad. Despite everything, Dana Scully felt like there was a lot more to the case than either she or Mulder knew. She shifted in the driver's seat as she took off to Virginia, following Lisa's directions. She was still sore from the accident and the bandages around her hands still reminded her of her actions the previous night. It all seemed a dream to Scully. The blindness, the sudden reappearance of her sight. It all seemed so long ago and unimportant right now. All that mattered to her was the man sitting next to her. He had told her about the deal he'd made with Lisa to get Scully's eyesight back. He had explained how his father had caused an accident so many years ago, and it had brought them to this point in life. Funny how old demons can sometimes destroy the present and future. The drive to Virginia didn't take long and happened in silence. Scully wondered what they would find. A distraught Lisa who would demand the world in return for Mulder's eyes? Would Scully even believe her when they talked about it? How could anyone have an ability like this? Lisa needed to be examined closely. If this was true, it could change everything. "Stop, Scully!" Dana brusquely pushed the breaks. The vehicle came to a stop before the old offices of the Messenger Iron Co. She looked aside, noticing her partner's dead eyes staring at the front gates. He winced as the sudden stop threw him forward. "Sorry," she said. Mulder's hand rested on the dashboard as his blind eyes stared forward. "She's here." She didn't ask him how he knew. She trusted his judgment, since it was the only thing they had right now to go on. Quickly, she left the car, feeling the gun press against her waist. Whatever they would encounter, she would protect the both of them. The site reminded her of the old mining company in Virginia they had invaded so many years ago. Back then, the only thing that had saved them was their perseverence in finding the truth. Mulder had claimed to have seen a UFO, a claim she could not substan tiate. She had believed he had seen something, but not everything was as black and white as it seemed. The knowledge that one woman had the power to take control over several person's lives was something she still had trouble comprehending. But she was here to help her partner, and to make sure he got back what was his, even if it was difficult for her to believe in it. He had opened his car door and stood blindly, his face directed at the factory. Somehow he knew she was in that building, and blind or not, he would find her. Scully reached for his arm and directed him towards the factory, telling him where to put his fe et. He let himself be guided by her, and leaned heavily on her as she did. She could tell from his strained movements he hated this form of dependence. She hated seeing him like this, swaying over the grass towards the large building that was now abandoned. She regretted not having called for backup. As soon as they found the wo man, they would do so. She stopped in front of the iron fence and tried to open it. The lock had been severed. Someone was inside. Quickly, she pushed it aside and helped her partner onto the grounds. A few moments later they stood in front of a large door whose lock had been s evered as well. She opened it, ignoring its creaky sound as she did. A pigeon or two flew up from the inside, leaving the building through the cracked glass. Mulder heard the sound and remembered the last time he had seen pigeons fly away. *A pigeon in a building is a foreboding to bad news.* "Be careful, Mulder," she said, leading him over the cement floor to a large, open space on the bottom floor. "There's all sorts of debris here. Why don't you stay here while I go look for her?" "Okay." He let her settle him down near an old table. He leaned on it as he listened to her footsteps. Scully walked up the old stairs to the first floor and stopped as the old, wooden floor showed a large hole. As she looked further up, she noticed another hole on the second floor, leaving the roof visible. It gave a weary sight to the place. Old desks an d chairs were still standing all around her. It was as if the place had been left empty from one day to another, leaving the owners no time to clear it. More birds were startled by her appearance as she walked around the hole in the floor towards the smaller rooms built from plaster. Inside she found stacks of old papers and pictures. Everything was covered with years of dust. More weariness. "Lisa Messenger?" she said out loud as her hand rested near her gun. She didn't want to threaten the woman or scare her off, but she didn't underestimate the possibility either that Lisa might have set up this trap in order to finish what she started a co uple of days ago. "Lisa," Scully repeated, looking up at the second floor above her. "We don't mean you any harm. Please, we just want you to talk to us." No answer came from inside the building. Slowly, Scully made her way to the second floor and started scanning every single room. Then she saw it. Inside the largest of the rooms she found a woman sitting behind a dirty, wooden desk. Her hands lay on the t able. She stared in front of her, as if she saw old times revived. "Lisa?" Scully's urge to take her gun and aim it at the woman was stopped by one look at the woman's teary eyes, "Lisa, I'm Dana Scully. We're here to help you." "Where is Fox?" "Downstairs. He wants to talk to you. Why don't you come with me?" Lisa Messenger slowly shook her head and got up. "You don't understand. There's no way back here. I came here to say goodbye." "You don't have to die, Lisa. We're here to help you. We know about the deal you made. We want you to talk about it, in order to punish the men that did this to you. We need you to testify so we can find out what really happened." Tears rolled over Lisa's cheeks as she said, "Why? To make an end to the Project your partner has been looking for for so long? I'm not going to be a traitor. I made wrong choices in my life and I'm living up to them. As did my father. I know who killed h im now and why they did it. The truth is too ugly to be revealed. I can't be the one telling the world this. I can't live with it either." "But it doesn't have to be this way, Lisa. You have an ability other people can learn from. Why don't you come with me so we can help you? You still have a life to lead, but Mulder needs you. Without your help, he will die. He's been very sick these past few days. He doesn't want to live like this. You've been there, why can't you help him? He doesn't have to go through this." "At the end someone always has to pay, Agent Scully. That's the other side of the coin. Someone has to pay for someone else's happiness. It's a matter of choice." "You didn't leave me a choice." "It wasn't your choice to make. You weren't the demanding party. Fox was." Scully bit her lip. "So you won't help me help him?" "What deal can you make me?" "What kind of deal do you wish to make?" Lisa sighed. "Do you always answer a question with a question, Agent Scully?" "Only when it concerns something I happen to have a great interest in. My friend is in trouble and I want you to help him. If you won't help me, you leave me with no choice but to arrest you and charge you. I will make your life a hell, that's my promise to you. If you help me, I will let you go." Lisa smiled, "That's a lousy deal, Agent Scully." Scully couldn't help but smile wryly back. "I know. It's the only deal I can make." "All right. You've got yourself a deal." Slowly Lisa made her way through the office that used to belong to her father. She had spent so many hours in here wondering if the company would be her once, if she could put as much love in it as her father had. It was a question that would be left unanswered. Towards the stairs they went, passing the gaping hole in the floor. Scully resisted the urge to grab Lisa's arm and force her to undo what she had done immediately. They would have to be patient for a while more. The next moment Lisa made the move Scully hadn't even anticipated. The woman seemed to take two steps forward and threw herself through the gaping hole on the second floor. Lisa's body seemed to drift through the air before she crashed down on the cement bottom. "Lisa!" Scully heard herself scream and her hand was reached out still, as if she had attempted to rescue the woman from the fall. The next moment Scully screamed again as she saw her partner. Friday, January 22 Mulder listened to the sound of his partner's footsteps up the stairs and on the first floor, and then her call for Lisa. Then everything went quiet above him. He didn't like it. They had taken his gun, he couldn't defend himself or his partner when thing s went bad. He heard a noise near him. Instinctively he turned his head towards it. "Who's there?" No answer came. He backed away from the table, putting his hands and arms in front of him to scan the area. He tripped over an iron pipe and fell, hitting the ground hard with his right knee. "Damn it!" he murmured before getting to his feet again. The noise remained. Someone was near him! He stretched out his hands again, trying to find whoever was in the room. The silence was deafening. Suddenly he felt wood against his fingertips. He touched it and pulled himself towards it. The stairs. Someone w as walking up the stairs. Step by step he made his way up, trying to find a way to get his opponent to talk to him. Suddenly no more steps. He was on the first floor. The noise came from further away. He could scent something. The vague smell of smoke. He knew that scent all too well. The Smoking Man . "You bastard," Mulder said out loud, stepping forward and tripping over the iron, "I know it's you. What the hell are you doing here?" No answer came. The noise stopped. Mulder stood all alone on the first floor, fighting the anger inside of him. He heard noises above him. Then something flew just past him, or so it seemed. He could feel something brush his face. Then a thump and everyth ing went quiet. He knew his partner was somewhere in the area. Oh, God, was it Scully's body that had fallen? He stretched out his hands and stepped forward again, calling out her name. Suddenly the world slipped from under him. One second long he floated in the air, and then the cement floor rose up and hit him rock hard, and the world turned into one abyss of pain. Friday, January 22 In despair, Scully watched her partner take the steps towards the edge. "Mulder, no!" she heard herself scream, and the next moment her partner stepped into nothingness and fell through the gap on the cement floor below him. A sickening crack and his shout was the last thing she heard before she stared down at his form. Lisa Messenger lay only a few inches from him. "Mulder." She ran toward him with his name on her lips. Her fingers probed his neck, looking for a pulse. He was still alive as he lay on his stomach, the broken wrist underneath him. His face was turned aside, she could see its pallor. Quickly she grabbe d her cell phone and dialed the emergency number, ordering them to contact the FBI as well. She was angry with herself. Why the hell had they come here without backup? Now he could die and there was nothing she could do about it. She dared not to look aside at the woman that lay inches away from him. She lay on her back. The back of her head was gone. Blood and brains were underneath her, her dead eyes stared to the world. Why had she jumped? Scully bit her lip knowing what this would mean. Her partner would be blind for life. He wouldn't struggle to save himself as he fought against death. He wouldn't want to live like this. She had to turn him to see how he was. Carefully she supported his neck with her hands as she attempted to turn him. He rolled onto his back and against her legs. She held her breath as he winced with pain, despite his unconscious state. Quickly she probe d his head for injuries. His temple was bleeding profusely. The old wounds had reopened. His shirt was drenched with blood from a cut to his arm. As she pulled up the sweater, she could see the dark bruises on his chest and abdomen. "Mulder, it's me," she said slowly, caressing his face carefully, "Mulder, open your eyes." He didn't respond to her calls. Unmoving, he didn't seem to hear her words. Scully bit her lip as she waited for the sound of sirens approaching the building. The next moment she could hear a car engine at the back of the building. Quickly she got on her feet and ran outside, just in time to see a black sedan leave the site. She couldn't make out the license plate. When she entered the factory again, she stopped at Lisa Messenger's body. The color of her eyes had changed into a dark, deep blue. The man next to her lay with his eyes open. For one long moment Scully thought he was dead. But he blinked his eyelashes suddenly, and turned his face slightly in her direction. At that exact moment Scully knew he saw again. A smile covered his face as he croaked, "Scully, you're wearing my favorite sweater." Saturday, January 23 The man lit a cigarette as he stood outside the small ER and looked in at the young man lying on the bed and the woman next to him. She couldn't keep her hand from his, or so it seemed. She talked to him and supported him as the tests revealed what she al ready suspected. He had regained full vision. The smoker smiled and turned to bump into Walter Skinner. The AD watched him with fierce eyes as he said, "All's well ends well, Mr. Skinner?" "You were lucky," Skinner snapped. "If Mulder had died, I would have hunted you down like an animal and killed you. You were in that factory, weren't you?" The smoker's smile vanished as he threw the cigarette on the floor and left it burning there. "Be glad he sees again. I wouldn't risk my luck if I were you. Goodbye, Mr. Skinner." The smoker walked away quickly. He'd had enough of hospitals for now. Saturday, January 23 Mulder woke up in the darkness of the room. For one long moment he thought it had been a dream and he was still without vision. But the movement of the woman in the room quickly relieved that fear as she approached the bed and reached for his face. She ca ressed it quietly, without saying a word. He remembered now what had happened. The strange feeling that invaded him even in his unconsciousness as he lay on the cold floor in the abandoned factory. He had turned his face towards the broken body of Lisa Messenger next to him, her eyes turned upwar ds and dead. He had felt a tingling inside of him and then, as he blinked and opened his eyes, he could see the shadows lift. Her death had given him back his eyes. He was convinced Lisa knew. It was the reason she had jumped and killed herself in the factory that had been her father's. She had wanted to die here, and she had wanted them to be present. It had been the only way to right the wrong. He remembered Lisa's face as he had seen it when she was struck by his father's car. He remembered her as she had knelt down to take Scully's eyes. He remembered her as she had explained her father's involvement in a strange project she didn't know anythi ng about. Now he wanted to remember her as a woman who made wrong choices in life and paid for them dearly. She was, after all, only human. In the darkness of the room he looked at the other woman that meant the world to him. She knew he was staring at her quietly and didn't say a word still. It wasn't necessary. "Hey Scully," he said after a while, "Now that I have my eyesight back, do you think you could let me drive again?" She smiled. "Sure. My short legs still can't touch the pedals." The End