Date: 13 Jul 1998 07:52:33 GMT
Subject: Pusher - my version (1/1) by Michelle

TITLE: Pusher - my version(1/1) - Michelle 
EMAIL ADDRESS: vega@earthdome.com
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Send wherever but lemme know
SPOILER WARNING: Up to including, surprisingly enough, "Pusher".
RATING: I think a PG. Whatever the episode was. 
CLASSIFICATION: X-File obv. Um, UST? Action? 
SUMMARY: Have you seen Pusher? That's what it is. 

PLEASE READ: I recently watched "Pusher" (again) coz its one of my
(and
I'm sure your) fave episodes. *There is so much there left unsaid,* I
thought to myself. And my computer was whining pitifully in the corner
so I've written a narrated and only partly abridged story of "Pusher",
from near the end. I've added what I believe the characters were
thinking, and only a little action off camera. Please note, THIS IS
PURELY MY OPINION! So, if you feel like reliving a little of Season
Three, and perhaps even seeing a little more, read on.

If anyone has read "Battle of Wills" (ah-hem, hopefully all of you)
you may recognise an extract from this. That's okay, it's all mine
anyway. And excuse any errors in names and things that are wrong. I
only had my ears to guide me through the names and such. Any mistakes?
Please feel free to e-mail me. 

DISCLAIMER: The characters, script, ideas, concepts and even
punctuation does not belong to me. It belongs to that wonderful
Production company in the Holly Wood, and Chris Carter (pay homage to
the Lord of TV!) 

This one's for... (drum roll)... David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson
as a tribute to their incredible skill and talent that was so evident
in this episode :Þ

(This may have been posted here before but I doubt it. Just a warning)


*Pusher* 

The van was large but the sheer amount of equipment made her feel
closed in, claustrophobic. It didn't help that they were waiting to
arrest a homicidal maniac, and her usual patience was gone, especially
since she had a feeling she knew what was going to happen next. Scully
eyed the room as she waited for an answer on the phone and listened to
the constant babble as the SWAT team took positions and reported back. 

"We found Modell's car, engine's still warm," came a voice over the
speaker, "he's probably still in the building. All entrances covered,
do we hold or go in?" 

"Hold," Mulder said. 

"Right, thank you," Scully said as she hung up her phone. 

Agent Bouvey shot Mulder a look but he complied. "Hold," he said to
his men over the mike. 

"Roger," came the reply. 

Scully spoke, "We got a technician who says Modell is scheduled for a
2:30 MRI. That's right now." 

"How do you want to play this?" Agent Bouvey asked Mulder. 

Mulder already knew, he didn't have to think about it. "I think I
should go in alone." 

Scully was not surprised and even though she knew, she asked. "Why?"
she said, not liking the idea and not being able to keep the fear out
of her voice. If anything should happen to him.... 

Bouvey obviously agreed with her, "My team can flush him out," he
said. 

Mulder was unfazed, speaking in a monotone business voice. "What if
Modell turns one of your men against the others? In a crowded
hospital? I think we should give him what he wants." 

"You," Scully sighed. Her heart raced with dread, as well as
irritation. *Why does he always have to do this?* she thought. 

Mulder turned to her. "We stand a better chance if we're separated.
I'll go in mike, that way you'll know what he's doing and where he is
at all times." Scully didn't reply. He turned to Agent Bouvey, "You
got a radio, something to keep my hands free?" 

Bouvey nodded, "I got just what you need.
 
 ************  

Scully sat and watched Mulder's back as he put on his bullet proof
vest and radio. She watched with a mixture of vexation and distress.
Why was he always risking his life unnecessarily? she grumbled
silently. Deep down she knew he was right to do this but she still
didn't like it. It wasn't that she didn't have faith in his abilities,
that wasn't the point, she knew he'd do everything right but.... she
was worried about Modell. That psychopath wanted Mulder to play
whatever game he had in mind, and killing them both in the process
wasn't a concern. It might even be the goal. 

As she watched, he couldn't help but admire Mulder. He knew what he
was doing, what he was up against, as well as she did. But it had to
be done. Mulder was the best agent Scully had ever met, yet she found
that she increasingly worried about everything he did. Every time he
risked his life, whether for her or someone else, she became more and
more.... what? Frightened? Was she starting to lose faith in him? Or
was it something else?
She had to admit to herself that her feelings for Mulder had increased
lately. True, recently they'd had a bit of trouble, what with Dr.
Bambi, cockroaches and then Dt. White. All friendships have rough
times even without the force of the cosmos compelling you to call your
partner a "big macho guy", but true friendships were the ones that
made it through, that learned from the mistakes and Scully and Mulder
were closer than ever. 

She had always respected him, and admired him, but it went beyond his
brilliance. The more time they've spent together, the more she had
come to understand him. And she liked what she had found. 

All his rash behaviour, his seemingly spontaneous thoughtless actions,
were all cleverly conceived inside his phenomenal brain. True, he
sometimes let his emotions cloud his judgement, but the sheer
intellect of this man she was now looking at, was more than enough to
convince her to be believe in him whatever the cost to herself, but it
was more than that too. She would die for Mulder. She would do a great
*many* things for Mulder, some which she didn't even know about
herself. Though she didn't always agree with him, she always loved for
him. 

The thought wasn't a new one. 

She loved him in an intimate way, it went beyond physical need. Not
that she didn't feel it. It just wasn't practical, wasn't rational.
Working with him everyday was enough.... for now. 

But times like this always made her rethink. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by Mulder himself. 

"Think I get the playboy channel?" Mulder had the radio on and was
testing his camera, looking at the screen. Scully smiled, the remark
so Mulderesque. 

He turned to her. 

"Smile Scully," he said bending down so their eyes were level. He gave
her an joking smile, his eyes shining with humour, trying to reassure
her, his handsome face silently voicing his concern for her. 

Scully ignored the feeling which the smile gave her, and managed to
smile weakly to assure him she was fine, letting her eyes tell him all
she felt in her heart better then any words could have. 

Mulder read her eyes and ignored the racing of his pulse that the
unspoken statements in her eyes induced. Such beautiful eyes. He
changed his expression to reciprocate her message. But with the
emotions threatening to burst, he broke the contact as he pulled out
his gun and gave it to her. Her eyes widened in protest. 

"Take it," she objected. 

"No," he said, "I wouldn't want to end up pointing it at anyone but
Modell." 

His hands remained in hers and Scully gently stroked them in a moment
of unusual tenderness, giving him strength with her support. 

Mulder, touched by her obvious breaking of protocol to secure him in
her concern and support for him, stood.

"Let's get this show on the road."

************

Scully watched the screen. Mulder was entering the hospital. From
inside the van there was background talk from the SWAT team. Mulder
walked towards the front desk. "Federal agent, go about your business
as usual," he said, not stopping, not wasting time explaining. 

His voice came over the radio, "Scully do you read me?" 

Adjusting her headset, she answered, "I'm with you Mulder." 

"Nothing out of the ordinary," he continued, meaning the hospital. He
continued exploring the hospital corridors. 

Bouvey spoke to his team, "SWAT team hold outside." 

"SWAT team still holding." 

As Mulder walked toward a T-junction, Scully let her mind wander for a
moment, enjoying the unique sensation to seeing through Mulder's eyes.
She had never felt so close to him. She felt like a part of him, of
his thinking process. His words were spoken right into her ear through
the head phones, right into her mind, giving her the illusion of their
minds being one. After all, she thought, even Einstein once said
"Friendship is one mind, in two bodies." 

But her thoughts were interrupted by a gun shot. 

Bang.

"Mulder!" Scully gasped, heart in her throat. 

Bang. 

"Two shots fired," Mulder's voice said. But his voice was breaking, as
was the image on her screen. Static confused the picture. 

"SWAT team!" Bouvey ordered. 

"No, not yet!" Mulder's voice said, trailing off. Scully felt the
panic rising. Dimly, she could hear Mulder's voice, "Everybody keep
moving, I'm a federal agent. What the hell is going on here......?" 

"Mulder, I'm losing you." She clearly saw the words "INTENSIVE CARE"
on a sign on the wall just as static swallowed the picture completely. 

"Mulder! Agent Mulder!" Bouvey called, with no reply. It was too much
for Scully. As she ripped off the radio and ran to the van door, her
only thoughts were getting to and being with Mulder. //I should never
have let him go alone.//

"Wait, Agent Scully!" Bouvey said. Scully turned and saw the screen
was showing a room, with two bodies on the floor. 

"You getting this back there?" came Mulder's voice. Scully released a
breath she hadn't known she was holding. 

She sat back down and put the radio back on. 

"Mulder, what happened?" 

"Looks like the guard shot the technician, then he shot himself." The
screen showed Mulder's hand gesturing to an empty gun-holder. "His gun
is missing. Bouvey, tell your men that Modell maybe heading your way." 

Mulder straightened as he heard Bouvey say, "SWAT team, suspect is
armed and possibly making his way out of the building." 

"We copy, we're ready for it," came the reply. 

Mulder looked about the room, at the computer screen showing the
readings from the MRI. Scully's voice came to him. "Mulder, wait wait,
get closer to the computer monitor." 

He leaned forward towards it, "Over here." 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, right there," she said thoughtfully. "There, that
light mass on his temporal lope." 

He touched it, "Right here." 

"You were right Mulder. Now check around you, Modell's chart should be
some where around there." 

He looked around and found it, holding it up so Scully could see. He
skimmed through it himself. 

"One in about a thousand Scully, Modell's dying. He's got nothing to
lose," he said. 

Mulder could almost feel Scully watching through the camera. He liked
the idea that they were so close, that she was almost in his head.
Ordinarily that would be a wholly unpleasant thought for Mulder but he
found he rather enjoyed the intimacy. After their recent arguments and
disagreements, he was glad that they were a team again, perfectly in
tune. He liked having her whispering in his ear, it felt like he had a
guardian angel. And despite the overall apprehension, he felt safe
knowing she was there with him. That he could draw on her strength.
That - even if for a while - he could draw from her incredible banks
of knowledge and be as smart as she was. 

That he could feel what it must be like to be, the omnipotent Dana
Katherine Scully. 

Her voice interrupted him. "Mulder just get out of there. Go!" There
was a pause as they silently communicated. 

//Get out of there Mulder.// 

\\You know I can't.\\ 

//Mulder get out of there!// 

\\He will keep killing.\\ 

//SWAT will take care of it. There's no need for you to risk your
life.// 

\\I have to do it.\\ 

"Mulder...." she said pleading with him, questioning him, maybe even
threatening him. Her voice was edged with panic. And fear. And....
love? 

Before he had a chance to expand the thought, he heard a sound behind
him. He turned.... and found himself looking down the barrel of a gun,
held by a leering Modell. In one smooth violent motion, he pulled off
Mulder's radio. 

Scully cried out in terror, "Mulder! God!" She jumped out of her seat
again and ran from the van. 

Bouvey followed, "Agent Scully! Wait! Where are you going?" 

She stopped and turned to face him, the look on her face daring him to
argue, "I'm going in." 

Bouvey, wisely, only nodded and handed her a spare bullet proof vest.

***********

Scully struggled to put on her bullet proof vest in a calm manner. She
walked fast but she tried to radiate some semblance of control. But
all she could see was that mad man with his gun to Mulder's head. It
had felt like the gun was on her own head. She tried to be composed
but she was nearly hysterical. 

//Oh, Mulder....//

Bouvey was trying to talk to her. "We think they're three doors down,
we got both ends sewn up tight but there's six critical care rooms we
can't get to. If we gas the halls we might kill those patients." 

They reached a corner where a SWAT officer was holding his gun trained
around the corner. Scully took a deep breath and peered. Bouvey
watched her then asked, "Why do we keep giving this guy exactly what
he wants?" 

"Just wait for a signal from me," she said, setting off. 

She walked slowly now, her fear of what she might find battling
against her desperate need to help Mulder. 

She came to a room on her left and cautiously looked in. A balding man
in a bed, nothing more. 

Taking shallow breaths, she moved on to the next room. The door was
half closed but she could see another man in a bed and.... Mulder's
vest and radio on the floor. Scully's heart stopped. 

She pushed open the door a little more and was relieved - more than
she'd admit to - to see Mulder sitting at a table. 

"Mulder..." she opened the door a little more and saw Modell in a
green scrub. He was staring at Mulder and Mulder was staring at him.
Like they were playing a game: who could stare the other one down
first. But Scully knew it was more than a game. 

"Thanks for joining us," Modell said, never breaking his gaze with
Mulder. 

"We've got a dozen law enforcement officers outside in the hall," she
said slowly and calmly, "another 30 in the parking lot...." 

"Regular convention," Modell mocked. 

".... so what ever you've got planned it's not going to work out the
way you want it to," she finished. 

He didn't look up, "You don't know what I got planned." 

Scared but seeing that there was nothing else she could do, Scully sat
down at the table between the two men. She glanced at Mulder. His
usually sparkling eyes were dulled, the intelligence and strength
normally radiating from them were no longer there. Scully had a
sinking feeling that maybe, just maybe, Modell was too strong - even
for Mulder. 

She noticed the gun cowering on the table between Modell's hands. 

"Two warriors of equal strength fight to the death," Modell said,
stone faced. "One's a student of Japanese Budo. The way of war, Budo
teaches the warrior to leave himself outside the battle...." Modell
picked up the gun without looking at it and spun the chamber, ".... in
other words to disregard his own death." He put the gun on table. 

"Because of that, the Budo warrior always wins." His voice became
edged with a superior tone. "I am that warrior. I don't fear my death.
So, I am going to give you...." he passed the gun to Mulder, ".... one
pull of the trigger. One in six chance." 

Mulder lifted his hand and reached for the gun. 

Modell slammed his hands down on Mulder's. 

His voice wavered slightly, "One... one pull." Scully noticed that
despite his brave words, his voice was laced with fear, sweat oozed
into droplets on his face. 

Mulder picked up the gun. Scully spoke up, "Wait, Mulder look, there's
pure oxygen in this room, there's no telling what could happen if you
pull that trigger." 

Click. 

Scully gasped. 

Nothing. 

Modell let out an audible sigh of relief, bravery momentarily
forgotten. "Piece of cake," he said, "your turn." 

Scully's face took on a look of horror as she turned to Mulder,
"Mulder, no." 

"Mulder yes," countered Modell, "Go." 

Scully felt her insides turn. Was Modell powerful enough to make
Mulder shoot himself? Was Mulder powerful enough to resist? 

To lose Mulder to his own hand.... 

To lose him.... 

Scully became desperate but tried not to let it show, "Mulder, listen
to me, give me the gun." 

No response. 

The panic rose, her voice became higher pitched, "We can stop this
thing right now. You and I can just walk outside of this room..." 

Mulder screwed up his face, put the gun to his head and pulled the
trigger. 

Click. 

"NO!" 

Nothing. 

"DAMN YOU!" Scully jumped out of chair, ready to rip Modell's throat
out. "YOU BASTARD! Mulder, hand me the gu...." Mulder grabbed Scully's
arm viciously, still staring at Modell. 

Then, with a soft grunt of reluctance, he pointed it at her. 

Scully was stunned. Then, despite the situation she found herself in,
she was struck by incredible awe at Modell's strength. Turning Mulder
against himself was extraordinary in itself, but turning Mulder
against an innocent, a friend..... was an act of God. 

And for the first time in her life, Scully doubted. 

She looked him in the eyes and saw nothing of the Mulder she knew.
"Mulder, you don't have to do this, you're stronger than this, "she
said, trying to persuade him as well as herself. 

She saw a flickering of recognition. 

But Modell dispelled it. "Your turn Scully, gotta play by the rules.
Pull the trigger Mulder!" 

She tried again, hope rising, "Mulder fight him." A single tear ran
down her soft cheek. "You can fight this." 

"Come on, pull the trigger Mulder!" Modell was agitated. "She shot
you, I read it in your file. Pay back time! Shoot the damn spy!"
Scully glanced at the mirror on the opposite wall and saw a fire alarm
bell on the wall in the corridor. //If I can only get to it....//

Mulder's heart was breaking. He was so powerless, so weak. He was
holding up the most important woman in his life for Christ's sake! And
the look in her eyes.... the hurt, the fear.... it charged his anger
so much he found the strength to speak, "I'm gonna kill you Modell." 

But the look didn't quite reach his eyes. They remained dull, blank. 

"Yeah, pull the trigger, you get another crack at me," Modell yelled. 

Mulder suddenly became very, very frightened. What if he wasn't strong
enough? He wasn't Scully. What if he killed her? Oh God. He had to
save her, even if it was from himself. 

The desperation gave him the concentration to ward Modell back enough
for his eyes to flicker again with life. 

"Scully, run..." he whispered hating himself, but with a growing
panic, he still felt himself begin to pull the trigger. Scully started
backing away. She looked so scared of him. 

Of him.... 

"Scully..." his eyes flashed with determination, his voice heart
breakingly pained. Mulder had never hated himself more than he did
now. What was he doing?! He was pointing a gun at Scully! His partner,
his friend, his.... 

He tried to speak to her but the words froze in his throat. The
strings pulling his mind wouldn't allow it. So instead, he spoke with
his eyes, knowing if they ever got out of this, he would never be able
to say it anyway. He pleaded for forgiveness, for strength, and
expressed his sorrow, his.... love? 

But the strings yanked his will away from him and his eyes dulled
again before Scully could see anything for sure. 

She saw how this was hurting him, how much he was hating himself and
Modell, and she shared his pain. And his sentiments. 

She just needed to reach the alarm.... 

"Scully...." he pleaded. 

Scully spun and slammed her fist into the alarm. 

A shrill siren sounded. Mulder's felt a clarity and his eyes seemed to
clear as he turned the gun to point at Modell and finished pulling the
trigger all the way. Modell's eyes widened in terror. 

Click. 

Bang. 

Mulder leapt to his feet and viciously shoved the table aside as
Modell fell off his chair and hit the floor. The blank look returned
as Mulder kept pulling the trigger of the empty gun. 

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click..... 

The SWAT team came yelling and shoving their way through the door and
leapt on Modell like vultures on a corpse. 

But by then Mulder's eyes had cleared and Mulder felt fatigued,
exhausted by the mental marathon he had just won. He sat back on his
chair and wordlessly, without looking at her, passed the gun back to
Scully who stood behind him. 

He knew Scully wanted to comfort him. He also knew she would not. Nor
would he let her. They were alive and they no longer felt the
desperation that often causes such emotional floods. 

Mulder buried his face in his hands, still loathing how close he had
been to.... He shivered. Too close. Far too close.

************

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.... 

Mulder was in Modell's room. He was on life support and his head was
mostly bandaged. Mulder just watched him, his thoughts wandering over
the recent events, the recent emotions. He couldn't believe this
little man, lying on that bed, as threatening as a corpse, had caused
the death of almost twenty people, and the near death of another two.
But that's what Modell wanted to be remembered by. A blaze of glory?
More like an inferno. 

And all for nothing. 

He caught a whiff of perfume and felt Scully come to stand beside him.
He wasn't surprised she had found him. She always managed to. 

"There's no telling how long he'll hang on, but he'll never regain
consciousness," she said, answering his silent question. 

"You know, we though he was undergoing treatment, we were wrong," he
told her. 

He sensed Scully's surprise. "What do you mean?" 

"I read his chart," Mulder explained, "the MIRs were a way to gage how
much life he had left, but he consistently refused treatment. The
tumour remained operable right up until the end but he refused to have
it removed." 

"Why?" 

Mulder had asked himself the same question, and all he could do was
agree with his partner. He was glad. 

"I think it's like you said," he said turning to look intently at
Scully, "he was always such a little man. This was finally something
that made him feel big."

For some reason, saying those words felt like a bold move, and he
hesitated. He was only talking about a case but he had at least hinted
at, his innermost past insecurities and his feelings about the
strength and love of their relationship.

But she held his gaze.

Scully saw that Mulder was expressing more than he was saying. And
despite Scully's curiosity and ceaseless quest to know this man, she
didn't want to put Mulder through any more. Whatever he had nearly
meant, he would tell her, in his own time. Of that she was sure. For
her, it was good enough that she had him back. 

For now. 

She reached between them and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, trying to
tell him how glad she was to have him back. He returned the squeeze in
thanks and returned the thought. 

"I say we don't let him take up another minute of our time," she said
looking at him, trying to assure him she understood and wouldn't push. 

Mulder smiled in gratitude, marvelling this woman who knew him so
well. Maybe they didn't need a two way radio to be as one. Maybe, they
already were. 

Scully released his hand, turned and left the room, letting him take
his time. Mulder took one last look at Modell, felt ironically
grateful, and left.

THE END

Well? Pointless? Here it is my patented E-Me-Plea!