Date sent:        Fri, 27 Jun 1997 22:10:34 +0200 (CEST)
From:             "P.C.Rasmussen" <bughunt@vip.cybercity.dk>

REVENGE
by Luandra
bughunt@vip.cybercity.dk

Disclaimer: The characters of "The X-Files" and the
rights belong to FOX network, Ten Thirteen
Productions, and Chris Carter.

Rating: This is a little violent and contains a few
swear words. If you're offended by that, don't read
on. Don't know what to rate it as, though.

Summary: Although I do not believe it for one second,
this is my take on what could happen if Mulder was
really dead and the deal that Skinner made with the
Cigarette-Smoking-Man for Scully's life doesn't come
through. It may be out of character for Scully, but I
do believe she could be pushed that far.

Questions, comments, praise, flames, criticizm, etc,
is very welcome at the above address. Enjoy. :-) (By
the way, since I'm not a native English-speaker, there
could be some glitches in the grammar. Please bear
with me on that one. Thank you.)

And now on with the show.....

-------------------------------------

Annapolis
Dana Scully's Apartment

The light of the street lamps lit the living room in
an eerie, partial light. Dana Scully stood by the
window, starring out at her street, her expression
set. She didn't look good. She looked terrible. Her
skin was waxen, her eyes bloodshot and tired. The dark
patches below them made them seem too big for her
face. And all this didn't matter any more. Not the
fact that she was dying or that her sister had been
killed in this very apartment. Not the fact that the
past years of her life had been one big hoax and that
she was going to die for that hoax. It didn't matter
because there was a bigger issue at stake here. One
she didn't fully comprehend, but she knew it was out
there. That man, Michael what's-his-name, had told her
that her partner and friend over the past four years
had lived a lie. That she had been given the cancer to
make him believe. Well, now he wasn't there any more
and she was getting worse. So, had the lie been what
that man had told her? At the thought of her partner,
her delicate hands clenched into fists. The ultimate
ditch. He had ditched her again by blowing his brains
out. She had counted on him to be there for her, to
hold her hand when she was going to die, but no. He
had to go first. He had to...! She cut herself off,
briefly closing her eyes. When she opened them again,
she felt as if they were lined with dragon fly paper.
Her eyes hurt physically now. Light was not a good
thing for her any more and the throbbing behind her
brow was more or less constant. One thing she knew for
certain. All her ethics, all her morals were wiped
away by each thundering heartbeat she could hear in
her ears. If that man, the Cigarette-Smoking-Man came
within her line of sight, she would pull her gun and
blow his brains out. He had killed Mulder. And her
sister. And Mulder's father. And God knew how many
others. That twisted old son of a bitch had toyed with
Mulder's brain from the very beginning and had killed
him in the end. "Damn you," she whispered. "I'm going
to get you for that. I don't care what they do to me
afterward. I don't have any thing left anyway. You put
me in a position where I have nothing left to loose by
blowing you away, you shit." Taking things into her
own hands had never been her style. She had always
played by the rules. Well, it was time to cut the crap
and get some revenge. Because she didn't have anything
left to loose. And because it might mean the saving of
a few lives.
     Anger and hatred fought for domination inside her
     as she turned and walked
over to the drawer where her gun was. She pulled it
out and checked the clip. Clipping the holster to the
back of her jeans, she stuffed the gun into it,
grabbed her coat and her keys and headed out the door.

Crystal City
Walter Skinner's apartment

Skinner wasn't happy about being roused at night by a
knock on the door. It always meant trouble. But he
went downstairs and opened the door anyway. He
couldn't afford not to. His visitor wasn't who he had
thought it might be, though.
     "Agent Scully?" he asked, starring at the petit
     redhead who looked even
more petit now due to her illness than she ever had
before.
     "I need to know where he lives," she replied, not
     acknowledging his odd
expression.
     "Who?" he wanted to know, stepping aside to let
     her in. Scully remained standing in the doorway,
     her haggard face etched with
determination. "The Cancer Man."
     "What do you want him for?" Skinner asked, not
     sure he had caught her
drift right.
     Almost leisurely pulling her gun from her
     holster, she flipped the safety off
it. "I am going to kill him. I have nothing left to
loose and he should have been smart enough to know
that," she replied, starring at the gun in her hands
as if it were a rare jewel.
     Skinner heaved a deep breath. He was getting fed
     up with this cowboy-mentality, but couldn't help
thinking that if Scully did kill the Cancer Man, it
would probably free him of his obligations toward him.
"Scully, don't you think you should come inside?" he
tried.
     "No," she countered almost indifferently. "I want
     you to tell me where he
lives. I want to know. If you won't, I'll find him in
some other way. I don't care what it takes. I will
kill him."
     Trying to work up the anger he should have felt
     at her reckless behavior,
Skinner sighed. "What is this? Showdown in
Washington?" he demanded. "Get in here, Scully."
     She shook her head and almost visibly winced at
     the pain it caused her. "No.
I don't have time to discuss this. It doesn't matter
any more. All that does matter is that I avenge
Mulder. He would have done the same for me."
     "This is not about Mulder or you, Scully. There
     is something much bigger
going on. And killing the Cancer Man isn't going to
change that," Skinner said, finding that he was unable
to get truly angry with her. He understood her
sentiment. Most of all, he felt like joining her.
     "Maybe not, but at least that freaking son of a
     bitch who killed Mulder after
putting him through hell will meet his maker a little
earlier than the others. And I have no doubt in my
mind that he will be going downward," she snarled, an
unprecedented anger welling up in her. "Tell me where
he lives or tell me you don't know. Don't give me any
moral lessons, Skinner. I'm through with morality. I'm
through with ethics. I'm dying and all I want is a
little satisfaction before I go."
     For a long moment, Skinner just starred at her,
     then he sighed again. "All
right. But you're not going alone," he finally said,
having made up his mind. It might kill him, but at
least he would be able to watch that shit die.

Crystal City
The Cigarette-Smoking-Man's apartment

He was surprised to realize that not only Skinner had
turned up, but Scully, too. It had been a matter of
time before they would, he knew. But Scully's
expression did frighten him a little, although he
would never show it.
     "Well, well, well," he said, looking from one to
     the other and back again. "So
nice of you to visit me."
     Scully starred at him with a hollow expression on
     her face. "You have killed
for the last time when I die, Cancer Man," she said,
her tone of voice remarkably calm. "You've killed
Mulder. You've filled him with crap and then you
killed him." Raising her gun to point it at him, she
smiled heartlessly. "Guess what? Time to die," she
added.
     "Why would you bother killing me?" he wanted to
     know. "I'm nothing. I have
no real power. I'm just a henchman."
     "Talk all you want, Cancer Man. But don't expect
     me to back off. I have
nothing left to loose. My life is ebbing away as we
speak and the sooner I put an end to you, the sooner I
can die peacefully."
     He realized his error too late. With her life
     running out like sand in an hour
glass, she truly didn't have anything left to loose.
And killing him would be a bonus for her. She would be
able to die in peace, because Mulder's senseless death
would have been avenged. And Skinner? He would be free
again. "Wait," he said, raising his hands. "I know
people who can cure you."
     "Fat chance," Scully countered indifferently. "Do
     you really think I wish to
go on living after what I've witnessed? This world is
coming apart at the seams because of men like you. I
have no wish to live any longer. But Mulder's life was
a waste because of the lies you kept feeding him. And
that you will pay for. You will not see another dawn."
With those words, she squeezed the trigger. In her
head, she heard the shot from far away. She saw the
surprised expression on his face when the slug hit him
dead center. She herself felt a little surprised at
how little blood flowed from the neat little hole in
his forehead. "May you rot in Hell," she whispered,
flipped the safety back on the gun, turned and strode
out of the apartment.
     Skinner lingered for a moment longer, starring
     down at the man he had
considered untouchable. It took nothing more than a
desperate woman with nothing left to loose to bring
him down. Shaking his head, he turned and followed
Scully out. He would do nothing to cover this one up.
Except for the fact that Scully had been involved.
Nobody would be allowed to touch her before she died.
He would see to that.
     He found her sitting on the steps leading up to
     the apartment building.
"Come on. I'll drive you home. You need some rest," he
said, grabbing her arm and more or less pulling her to
her feet.
     Scully looked up at him, then nodded weakly.
     "Yes. I think I can sleep now,"
she said and walked with him to his car.

Annapolis
Dana Scully's apartment

After having made sure Scully was comfortable, Skinner
let himself out of her apartment and went back home.
He wasn't at all surprised that she had more or less
passed out. The Cancer Man was gone. Dead by the hands
of the very people he had tried to bring down. And
Skinner would do what he could to cover up any
involvement on his own or her behalf. Nobody would
ever know who had killed that man.
     Scully rolled onto her back and stretched out.
     With her eyes closed to rest
her weary head, she thought about what she had just
done and how odd it was that she felt no remorse at
all. Skinner had tried to stop her, but his attempts
had been halfhearted. He had wanted to see that man
dead just as much as she had. A weak smile slipped
over her lips. "This one's for you, Mulder. Rest in
peace," she whispered into the darkness of her bedroom
while she drifted off to a final sleep.

                           THE END