From: eponine119 Date: Fri, 29 Dec 1995 11:12:05 -0800 Subject: NEW: The Odyssey (1/2) Yeah, another one from me. One part of this is bound to get lost, so email me for whichever's missing. Category: Character-based Carter wannabe. More "Mulderangst" than X-file Disclaimer: These characters belong to Chris Carter, 10-13, and 20th Century Fox. No infringement intended, only worship. And I borrowed a bit of dialogue from "Squeeze". What better to do with a nightmare than make it a story... The Odyssey by eponine119 eponine@uci.edu 12/29/95 (Chilmark H.S. 1975) "Hey Fox," the heavyset older boy called to him, challenge in his voice. "Mulder," he muttered correctively, but no one was listening. "Seen any little green men lately?" the bully demanded and burst into raucous laughter. Mulder didn't react. He didn't blink, he didn't blush, and he didn't run away. "Grey," he said quietly. The bully looked surprised. "What?" he demanded. "Grey," Mulder repeated calmly. "You said green men. Their skin tone is actually grey." "You'd know, you've seen 'em," sneered the other boy. Then he punched Mulder in the face. At least I got a word in this time, Mulder thought as he reeled. (Mulder residence, Chilmark, MA, 1975) Mulder let himself into the quiet, empty house and headed for the kitchen. His father didn't believe in afterschool snacks - but he isn't here, Mulder thought rebelliously. He knew he was going to be in trouble to coming home with a black eye again. Mulder stopped in the doorway. "Mom?" he said, surprised to see his mother sitting at the kitchen table, her back to him. "Why are you -" He saw his father sitting at the table as well. His heart sank. He'd really done it this time. Military school for sure, he thought. But could that be worse than this? "Fox, come into the kitchen." An order. Mulder walked stiffly into the room, bracing himself for his parents' reaction to his blackening eye and split lip. The moment never came. There was a little girl sitting at the table, her back against the wall, smiling serenely at him. "Your sister's come back, Fox," his mother said. "Sam!" Mulder ran to her and grabbed her, hugging her tightly to him. He'd dreamed of this moment for so long. "Stop it!" she screamed, fighting. "Let go of me!" Samantha shoved him away and climbed up onto her father's lap. Mulder stood there, his bruised mouth hanging open, absolutely heartbroken. He was not going to cry in front of them. He turned and walked away. "Fox!" his father shouted after him, but it wasn't the voice he'd longed to hear and he kept walking. They went out to dinner that night. No one had spoken to him all evening. Or looked at him. Not even Sam. It was as though he was not there. Pushing down guilty resentment within him, Mulder dared to approach his sister in the family room, away from their parents. "Sam?" he asked, hesitantly. Her head came up and her eyes fixed on him, almost looking through him. He noticed she was reading her favorite book - and his too - "The Odyssey". Her eyebrows raised like a queen's, waiting for him to speak. He grinned, feeling like an idiot. "Do you want to play a game - or something?" he asked, hope surging through him. "I'm reading." she said and her eyes dropped to the book. Dismissing him. He could not let it go so easily. "Are you - do you -" She looked at him impatiently, coldly, as he searched for words. "Are you going to sleep in our room tonight?" "No," she said. He waited, but that was all. His shoulders slumped and he slunk away to the room he had once shared with his sister. He sat down by the window and looked up at the stars, as he had so many times. tonight, his unspoken prayers to a God he no longer believed in had been answered, but he still had questions. "Why does she hate me?" he whispered. "What did I do? Is it because I let them take her?" There was no answer. He would have to try harder. (Mulder residence, 1975. The next day) Mulder couldn't believe his parents made him go to school. He was jealous of the time they'd spent with his sister. His lips squeezed together. She wouldn't have spoken to him anyway. He let himself into the house. Samantha was there, waiting for him. "Sam," he said smiling. "Dad wants to see you," she said, a bratty edge to her voice. Mulder could only stare at her. Her small face was tight and smug. Ugly. He nodded, defeated, and started for his father's study. "You're in trouble," her voice singsonged happily behind him. The hair rose on the back of his neck. Why was she like this? the nightmare should have ended, yet it was just beginning. His father's face was grim. "What are these things, Fox?" he demanded. Mulder's eyes went to the items on his father's desk. His drawings. His poetry book. His journal. The places he'd expressed his silent pain for the last two years. "You went in my room," he said, with a teenager's sullen accusation, feeling exposed. "Samantha did. It was - is - her room, too." His father said, his voice hard. "She brought these to me because they scared her. They scared me too -" Mulder's vision clouded with incredible rage. He only heard a selective few of the rest of his father's words. "Disturbed...help...psychosis...hospital..." Mulder tore from the room, running through the house and flinging open the door to his sister's bedroom. She looked at him, self-satisfied, smiling. "You did this on purpose!" he screamed. "Why?" She continued to smile. "It was supposed to be you, you know." she said calmly. "Daddy never loved you. He was so disappointed - he wanted to be rid of you -" "You're not my sister!" he yelled as he grabbed her and threw her on the floor, his fist connecting with her face. "I hate you! I hate you!" he screamed over and over, beating her. Mulder's apartment Nov. 27, 1995 1.42 AM Mulder sat up in bed, his heart pounding. The sound of his harsh breathing filled the room. The phone rang and he grabbed it. "Mulder," he said, still panting, adrenaline flowing through him. "Mulder?" he tensed at the soft feminine voice before he realized it was Scully. "Are you OK?" he asked. "Yeah. Nightmare, that's all." he said. "You want to talk about it?" His mind flashed back to the dark images. "Scully, why'd you call me?" he asked. There was a long pause. "I woke up...and I was worried about you. I can't explain it." She heard a choking noise from his end of the line. "Mulder?" She listened carefully. "Are you *crying*?" She breathed, amazed and scared. He scraped the tears away with the back of his hand, nodding, trying to stop. To control his breath so she wouldn't hear. He considered hanging up on her, but he knew that would only bring her to his apartment. "Talk to me," she ordered. "It was awful. She hated me. I hated her. I hit her. She said -" Pause. "I hit her. Why would I dream something like that? I love her. Even if she came back and...damn it, I love her." Scully felt sympathetic tears well up in her own eyes. "It doesn't mean anything," she said soothingly. "It was a dream, that's all. You know you love her." There was a long silence. "I'm OK, Scully," Mulder said. "Thanks." And he hung up, feeling weak and upset. The phone rang again instantly. Speed dial, he thought, and answered it angrily. "Mulder." "Mr. Mulder?" It wasn't Scully. "Sorry to have bothered you so late, but there's been a...discovery...at your parents' home. Your mother asked me to call - she's rather unwell." "I'll be there as soon as I can." Mulder said, and hung up. He dressed and grabbed his overnight bag and his keys. As an afterthought, he picked up the phone. "Scully." she answered. "It's me. Something's happened. I have to go to Massachusetts." "Mulder, I- "Scully began. "I want you to come with me," he said, surprising even himself. Scully's apartment 2:05 AM Scully was dressed and ready to go when he arrived. He was grateful not to have to wait for her. "Mulder, what's this about?" she asked as she slid into the driver's seat of his car and moved the seat up. "Something's happened at the house in Massachusetts. My sister." "Did they say that?" "Not exactly." he said. She looked at him. "But I know it's her." End of part one. =========================================================================== From: eponine119 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: NEW: The Odyssey (2/2) Date: Fri, 29 Dec 1995 11:44:21 -0800 Disclaimed in part 1. If part of this has gone astray, email me for what you missed. Note: I took Mulder's family address and the date of Sam's disappearance from the "Official Guide", although from the show, I don't think his mother still lives in that house. I used the air date for the episode "End Game" because I don't know if it said in the ep. what day it was supposed to be. All drive times I estimated with a map and a calculator, so they're probably wrong. The Odyssey [part 2} by eponine119 eponine@uci.edu 12/29/95 Mulder residence Chilmark MA 8:45 AM Mulder was out of the car before Scully even put it in park. "What's going on?" he demanded of the policeman who came out to meet him. "Where's my mother?" "She's resting," the policeman said, but Mulder's mother came out of the house in her bathrobe and grabbed her son by the sweatshirt. "It's her, Fox." she told him, her eyes haunted. He nodded and put his arm around her and they went inside. Scully had a harder time gaining entry to the house. Her FBI badge finally did the trick and a policeman led her silently to the basement of the old house. A flood light was set up. She ducked under the police tape. "Don't touch anything," the police guard cautioned her and she ignored him, wondering idly where Mulder had gone to. She stopped, swallowing hard, when she saw what lay inside the trench in the floor. She knelt. One complete skeleton, appproximately the size of an eight year old girl. Her professionalism taking over, Scully lifted the skull out the dirt and examined the teeth. "Dental records?" she asked. "Inconclusive at first glance." said the policeman. Scully nodded. There were no cavities. Two teeth were missing, other adult teeth barely erupted. Eight, she thought. "Aren't there other tests you can run?" Scully demanded, replacing the skull. "Facial reconstruction? DNA?" The policeman shook his head. "It's her." he said. Scully nodded and leaned in for closer examination, slipping one of the tiny bones into her pocket. "Seen enough?" asked the cop, and she nodded. "I expect a full copy of the report ASAP," she said and went to find Mulder. He was sitting out in the car, smelling faintly of vomit and toothpaste. "Let's go," he said. His skin was grey. "Mulder, don't you think you should stay?" Scully asked. He shook his head weakly, his eyes sliding closed. "There's nothing I can do. There was never anything I could do," he said, feeling the urge to be sick again. Route 95 New Jersey 2:06 PM Scully pulled over on the side of the road. "Talk to me, Mulder," she ordered. "What is there to say?" he asked. "You had a nightmare about her, and then the police found the remains of a little girl in your old basement. You must have something to say." Scully said, worried about him. "He killed her." Mulder said, quiet acceptance in his voice. "He killed her and I saw and I made up a crazy story because I couldn't deal with it." "You believe that?" she asked. He turned to her, a little surprised. "Yes." he said. "How are you feeling?" she asked, examining him with her eyes. "Crazy," he said, and turned away, ending the conversation. There was nothing Scully could say about that so she pulled back onto the highway. Mulder's apartment 8:15 PM Mulder sat in the dimness of his bedroom, surrounded by old papers and notebooks. His long fingers touched the cover of one and he smiled to himself, only for a moment. He opened the book to the first page. OCTOBER 13, 1971 Today's my tenth birthday! Sam bought me this book. I told her it was dumb, that diary's were for girls but she knew I was joking. And I know she bought it with her allowance and didn't let Mom help her. She'd stubborn for 6. Was I that stubborn? I don't remember. He let the pages slip through his fingers. NOVEMBER 28, 1973 She's gone. I [can't - crossed out] won't believe it. It can't be true. Where is she? Who's got her? I'm not supposed to think this, but she's not coming back. I know it. Dad knows it too and he blames me. I hate him. It's awful but I do. I don't think I'm ever going to sleep again. Mulder picked up a different book, more recent. FEBRUARY 17, 1995 She's gone again. She was here, but she's gone again. I can't let myself believe it was really her. A clone, a clone, that's all she was. I knew it before I traded her for Scully. I have to believe that. Could I have traded the real Samantha for her? I've lived without her for so many years...but I did so bad without Scully, when she was gone. Who do I need? Why not just myself? He picked up the pen and began to write. NOVEMBER 27, 1995 Twenty two years. Exactly. Now I know the truth. It doesn't matter what I want to believe. Last night I had the most awful dream...what do I do now? Without her, what do I do? FBI HQ 9:25 PM Scully brushed back the loose strand of hair. She was exhausted, but she couldn't stop now. Not until she was done. Not long now... She pulled away from the microscope at the sound of a footfall behind her. Her eyes started to sting and she picked up her gun before she turned. She faced the older man, looking at his papery skin, and said nothing. He was silent as well. Her hand holding the gun did not waver. He took a long drag on the cigarette and smoke clouded eeriely around him. "You mustn't tell Mulder about this." he said. "He has a right to know the truth." Scully said. "This way he can end his obsession." "I'm supposed to believe you did him a *favor* when you killed a little girl and - what, paid some workmen - to plant her scoured bones in that basement?" demanded Scully. "What kind of monster are you?" The man merely smiled. "You can't possibly get away with this." Scully informed him. "The remains were lost in transit. A shame they will never be analyzed." The man said. He dropped his cigarette and crushed it with his foot on this pristine white tiles of the lab floor. "If you're smart, you'll keep this conversation to yourself." "And if I'm not smart?" Scully challenged. He frowned. "But I know you're a very smart young lady. Who loves her family and her partner very much." With the vague threat, he turned and left. Scully considered following him, but sank down in a chair, wondering what to do. But she already knew. Mulder's apartment 11:21 PM Mulder opened the door and Scully walked in and sat down on the couch without saying anything. "I had a visit from our cigarette smoking friend." she said almost casually. Mulder jumped. "He came to your house?" Scully shook her head. "I was at the lab. Here." She pressed the bone fragment into his hand and he looked at it. "It's not her." "But -" his eyes met hers. "It's been scoured with acid and - other stuff - down to the bone." she said, sparing him the technical description. "I'd say she was killed a week ago." "Oh my God." Mulder said. "He did this." Scully nodded grimly. "Then he must - I've got to find him." "Mulder, no." Scully placed a light restraining hand on his arm. "He told me not to tell anyone. The rest of the remains were convienently lost. He threatened my family, and you." Mulder closed his eyes, defeated, and squeezed the bone fragment in his fist. "Damn it." Scully's hand tightened on his arm and he looked at her. "She's alive. And we will find her. You have to believe it." She said. He nodded grimly. "Thank you." he said. She smiled and sighed, closing her eyes. She had to be exhausted. She was asleep. He tenderly brushed her bangs out of her eyes and tucked a blanket around her. She stirred in her sleep, close to waking. He didn't move, terrified of being caught caring. Her breathing evened and he dared to move again. He sank down in the chair, wishing he had someone to care about him, someone to tuck a blanket around him or hold him when he couldn't sleep. Damn it, Mulder, he told himself, why do you think she's so exhausted? She cares about you, she's been looking out for you all day. He looked over at Scully again, a small smile touching his lips. He twisted around in the chair, closed his eyes, crossed his arms and sighed loudly, preparing to go to sleep. He drifted off immediately, still smiling peacefully. End. So, now comes the part where I must beg for you to write to me with your comments, good or bad, naughty or nice. Begging works. Write me. Thanks and happy new year eponine119 , eponine@uci.edu