From: philiater Date: 21 Mar 2003 11:45:39 -0800 Subject: Skinner's Promise Source: atxc Skinner's Promise Author: Philiater Category: vignette, Skinner/Scully non-romantic Rating: PG Timeline: takes place during Season 8. Disclaimers: Not mine, never were. They belong to CC and 1013. This is part of the series of short vignettes in the 'Skinner's' series: Skinner's Ashes, and Skinner's Gift. You do not have to read those to understand this one. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Promise: 1 a : a declaration that one will do or refrain from doing something specified b : a legally binding declaration that gives the person to whom it is made a right to expect or to claim the performance or forbearance of a specified act 2 : reason to expect something ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Scully's slight body shook with the effort to keep warm. The warehouse cold room was kept at a level just above freezing, and Skinner was terrified she would die in his arms. She was curled into a fetal position on his lap and trembled against his chest almost constantly. He tried to give her all the warmth he could, but even he was beginning to feel the deep burning pain of cold invading to steal it away. They were trapped inside, thrown in by a madman who had lured them there. Scully had been desperate for news about Mulder and Skinner had caught her trying to sneak away to meet this stranger. He refused to let her go alone, and she finally gave up trying to dissuade him from following. The warehouse was located in a nearly deserted part of an industrial park on the south side of Chicago. Skinner was wary from the start and that feeling intensified when he saw the location of their meeting. Buildings that looked bombed out surrounded the warehouse and tall weeds filled in the numerous cracks in the asphalt. A single fluorescent street light snapped on at the far end of a large parking lot in response to the rapidly setting sun. Skinner hadn't been able to tell what the exact function of the warehouse was from the outside. It appeared to be in use, but if people worked there, they'd gone home hours before. He'd frowned in frustration, knowing that Scully would go in without him if he objected. Short of hog-tying her; he knew nothing would keep her from meeting this shadowy contact. He also knew she'd return without him the minute his back was turned. They'd gone inside cautiously, guns and flashlights clutched in their hands. The low hum of machinery could be heard across a vast empty space. The numerous glass-block windows were painted a hideous green color that was nearly indistinct in the fading light. The clop of their footsteps on the cement floor had echoed eerily as they surveyed the area. Skinner could also hear water dripping steadily someplace else. When they'd searched the big room without a sign of life, Skinner stopped and looked at Scully with undisguised relief. "Looks like we've been stood up." Scully worried her lower lip and continued to look around the room. She seemed determine to find someone. "We've come so far..." she began. Suddenly a piercing noise filled the room and a sharp pain had exploded inside Skinner's head. The noise and pain buckled his knees, and he saw Scully go down beside him. She'd slid slowly to the floor under the assault, like a slow-motion movie. The last thought he'd had before blacking out was that he hoped the baby was all right. They'd woken up in the freezer hours later, their guns and flashlights gone. After Scully reassured him numerous times that she was fine, he'd discovered the locked door. No matter what they'd tried, they simply couldn't get out of the cold room. For a while they paced to keep warm, but exhaustion finally wore them out and they'd settled into untidy heaps on the floor. When Scully started to shiver, Skinner had picked her up and settled her on his lap. She'd protested weakly at first, but as time wore on he found her trying to bury herself in his chest. He'd taken his jacket off and wrapped it around her to provide what little warmth he could. He was still sitting with her in his lap, cursing himself and their unseen attacker. Guilt and shame washed over him in a new wave as he thought about what could happen to them. "I'm sorry," he murmured into her hair. "W-what?" Scully asked through chattering teeth. "For getting us into this mess." "No...No, sir. M-my fault." He looked up toward the ceiling and closed his eyes. Only Scully, shivering from hypothermia and possibly near death, would try to shoulder the blame herself. And those shoulders were slimmer than they had been before Mulder's disappearance. Her weight loss was a subject he hadn't broached with her, but had wanted to. He hadn't wanted her to know he watched her like a hawk since she'd broken the news of her pregnancy to him in New Mexico. She knew now, for all the good it had done her. Skinner shifted on the gray cement floor and found he couldn't feel his legs any longer. If he couldn't feel his legs, Scully must be nearly frozen. He tried to pull her even closer, but doubted he helped her much. A fog was beginning to cloud his mind and Skinner fought unconsciousness with a futile anger. A sharp sound penetrated through his crystal-fogged brain. The scrape of a key being inserted into the cold room padlock and turned could be heard just outside the door. After the door opened, slow footsteps crunched over floor and stopped in front of him and an unconscious Scully. The acrid stench of cigarette smoke permeated the stale, cold air. "Bastard!" Skinner tried to shout, but it only came out as a whisper. "Well, we meet again as they say Mr. Skinner." CGB Spender's oily voice confirmed Skinner's worst fears. He looked up to see the man he'd hated for seven long years standing over him like a specter. "What the hell do you want?" "It's not what I want Mr. Skinner. It's what you want isn't it? Or should I say who?" "What are you talking about?" "The reason you and Agent Scully are here." "To find Agent Mulder." Skinner saw no reason to lie. "Exactly. But he doesn't appear to be here does he?" "No. Why are you doing this?" Spender took another long drag on his cigarette and flicked the ash at Skinner. "I want something too, Mr. Skinner." "What?" Skinner asked with impatient anger. "I want you to stop looking for Agent Mulder. I want Agent Scully to stop looking for him." "Or what?" "Or I leave you here to die." "Go to hell." Spender's raspy laughter filled the small space. It was quickly followed by a prolonged round of loud, desiccated coughing. Skinner thought it sounded like a death rattle of a corpse. A few minutes went by before the black-lunged devil could speak again. "Defiant to the last aren't we?" he grated. "You should know." This seemed to give Spender pause. "Yes, our time on this earth *is* short. But your time is shorter than mine Mr. Skinner. And so is hers." The mention of Scully made Skinner tighten his arms around her reflexively. "You have more than yourself to think of, but then so does she." Skinner wasn't surprised Spender knew about the pregnancy, but it still shocked him to hear it mentioned. Somehow it made Scully instantly more vulnerable and Skinner far angrier. "Leave Agent Scully out of this." "But I can't do that can I? She seems determined to look for a man she will never find. I'm making it your job to see that she stops." "Agent Mulder..." Skinner began. "Is not here. Come now Mr. Skinner you're wasting time. Do I have your word or not?" Skinner set his jaw and looked away. "I can't promise I can control her." "Then tell her something...anything. You're good at that aren't you?" The implication stung, but Skinner didn't think he could refuse. "I promise," he said, the words barely a whisper. "What's that Mr. Skinner?" Skinner closed his eyes and grated out, "I *said* I promise." Spender laughed again. "Very good Mr. Skinner. I knew you were a sensible man: as you have so aptly demonstrated in the past." Skinner opened his eyes to retort, but Spender was already gone. The door of the cold room stood wide open, letting warm air drift in. Skinner shifted and tried to move his frozen legs, but pain like sharp knives shot up his thighs. He had to wait several minutes before the circulation returned and he felt good enough to stand. By then Scully was stirring again and shivering. With more effort than he though he had left, Skinner managed to pick her up and walk out of the cold room. Outside the door he set her gently down and put her up against him. He leaned over and panted heavily from the effort of moving her just a few short feet. I'm getting old, he thought, too old for this. He waited until he believed he could move again, and picked Scully back up. He managed to get her to the car and inside without dropping her; something he considered a mighty feat. When he got behind the wheel of his car, he stopped and took stock of the situation. They must have gotten close to finding Mulder, or rattled some powerful cages to bring Spender out of his slimy hidey-hole. Again, he wondered why he wasn't just killed outright, or left to die a slow death with Scully inside the cold room. Without thinking, he put his hand on Scully's slight belly and knew the answer: the baby. This baby was a key of some kind, and they were hoping he could keep Scully under control until it could be born. Skinner scowled. If they thought he'd just hand her over when the time came, then that black-lunged carcass was sadly mistaken. With a sigh he started the car and drove to find a hospital for his irreplaceable cargo. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ End Like it? Let me know. Philiater1@aolcom