From danadrives@aol.com Fri Sep 27 22:24:19 1996 Path: news.ro.com!www.nntp.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!cs.utexas.edu!howland.erols.net!news-peer.gsl.net!news.gsl.net!portc01.blue.aol.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: danadrives@aol.com (DanaDrives) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Talitha Cumi: Second Chances 1/8 Date: 27 Sep 1996 23:24:19 -0400 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 236 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <52i5p3$r2e@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: danadrives@aol.com (DanaDrives) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com Talitha Cumi: Second Chances Adu2@aol.com DanaDrives@aol.com Disclaimer: We didn't create these folks. If we had, we wouldn't be teaching high school English and wishing we had lives. Don't sue us. 'Nough said. If you like this, let us know- feedback is a good and happy thing! If not, well, we'll forgive youl... For the crowd gathered in the Cafe -- don't you people ever go home? Part one ****************** First Baptist Hospital Baltimore, MD 3:30 AM May 19, 1996 **** Scully's first conscious breath brought her to her senses quickly as the inhalation of air caused her lungs to burn as if on fire. Her eyes snapped open at the pain. She was greeted with the sterile whiteness of a hospital ceiling and the outline of an exam cubicle curtain, which was a fuzzy vision at best. Her eyes felt heavy and clogged. she thought. the images flew across her mind. She had had her gun up and was ready to fire at the big man approaching Jeremiah Smith, and Mulder had handed over to Smith the weapon- the spike- gripped so tightly in his palm and yelled at her to not shoot and run away. She had looked at him in stunned confusion, her lack of response the catalyst for Mulder's flying tackle that buried her beneath him. Vaguely she remembered his hands over her mouth and nose and his head buried between her neck and shoulder. Also, the weight of him on her suddenly and the blow to her head as she hit the ground-breath and vision leaving her simultaneously as they fell. As if on cue, the curtain parted and she was greeted by a fuzzy outline of a woman's face and a white lab coat. "Agent Scully? Can you hear me?" Dana tried to get the words out but her throat had taken on the quality of sandpaper. "Uh hmm" was all that she could manage. "Agent Scully, I'm Dr. Gordon. You've experienced a reaction to a toxic substance... that is the cause of the inflammation you must be feeling. You've also got a nasty bump on the back of your head." She licked her lips and tried to speak again. "Mu-Mulder? Wh-" "Where is your partner?" the doctor finished her thought for her. "He's next door. For now you two are being quarantined away from the rest of the hospital population. We aren't sure how you ended up this way or what type of toxin has entered your system." "How did I get here?" "Apparently there was an anonymous call alerting paramedics to your location. When they arrived Agent Mulder was conscious, you were not. He alerted us to the fact there might be a toxic substance exposure... I've never seen anything like it. It seems that you two may know more about this than we do. " The doctor's eyes seemed to ask a question. "I need to see my partner..." Scully struggled to get up, encumbered by the hospital gown, "Not so fast, you need to rest." Dr. Gordon firmly placed her hands on Scully's shoulders to plant her back on the bed. Dana felt her head spin from the exertion and reluctantly let her body take the time it needed, barely aware that the doctor had taken her leave. Soon, though, her head began to clear again and she heard a rustling of the curtain and shuffle of feet. Opening her eyes she was greeted with a view of her haggard partner. He had red inflamed areas around his eyes, nose and mouth. He looked the way she'd found him the night Deep Throat was murdered. "Mulder? You okay?" "I'm fine, Scully, we're fine... just rest." he grasped her hand for emphasis. "Mulder, do I look as bad as you look." She tried to grin but found it too painful. "No, you could never look that bad." Even through his swollen eyes she could still see the twinkle that always accompanied his flirting. "I passed out when I hit the ground.... What happened." He looked away from her for a second. "I'm sorry about being rough with you... but shooting either of them would have endangered us more... We were too close to them." She looked at him questioningly. "Their blood is toxic to us you know... just like what happened to me on the sub. We could have died. I needed to get you as far away from them as possible." "Mulder, what happened to Jeremiah Smith?" "He's dead, Scully... and so is the other one, the 'bounty hunter'. They pretty much destroyed each other simultaneously from what I can tell. I didn't see it happen..." "That's why ... you were protecting our airways." Realization hit Scully. "Oh Mulder, your mother...." Mulder just nodded, lowering his eyes to conceal his pain. He looked like he wanted to cry, nonetheless. "I don't think there's much hope for her at this point." he mumbled, more to himself than his partner. "Mulder, there's always hope... she might come through on her own.... But... there are others out there. I know where they are." Scully squeezed his hand reassuringly and told him of the facts she'd uncovered only hours earlier- of the identical men who bore the name Jeremiah Smith. **** Darkness covered the black sedan, its lone occupant observing the red-haired woman peering pensively from the third floor window as he drew a long drag from a barely lit cigarette, snubbed it in the ashtray, and tried to imagine her thoughts. Was she worried for the man resting in the next room? Grateful for their hard won escape hours earlier? Angry at the recent turn of events designed to force her to face her powerlessness and insignificance in the overall plan? Smiling at the plethora of possible causes for her pain, he reached for another cigarette- vowing silently to himself to enjoy only a brief taste of its smoky pleasure. Second chances, after all, were often few and far between. **** End part one From danadrives@aol.com Fri Sep 27 22:30:40 1996 Path: news.ro.com!www.nntp.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!news-peer.gsl.net!news.gsl.net!portc01.blue.aol.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: danadrives@aol.com (DanaDrives) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Talitha Cumi: Second Chances 2a/8 Date: 27 Sep 1996 23:30:40 -0400 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 220 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <52i650$r7h@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: danadrives@aol.com (DanaDrives) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com Talitha Cumi: Second Chances Part 2 of 8 by Adu2@aol.com DanaDrives@aol.com Disclaimer in part one. Dana Scully turned away from the window, surprised at the unsettled nervousness which had risen from deep in her stomach. She wanted to be at home, where should could at least pretend to herself that she was safe. Hospitals made her nervous now- they were too exposed, too many people coming in and out, too many opportunities for switched medications, faceless individuals with grim scenarios for destruction. She grimaced to herself at the multitude of dangers which her mind to easily placed around them. Settling onto the edge of the bed, she forced herself to push the nerves down. There were very real problems to be dealt with and she had no time for vague fears. Mulder was on the verge of another traumatic event for which he could potentially self destruct in a cataclysm of self blame and remorse. His mother was dying and what he believed to be the last chance to save her had slipped through his hands. Restlessness forcing her once again to her feet, she paced past an open door, caught sight of herself in the bathroom mirror. Pulled towards it, she paused to consider the changes in her life as they played out across her face. Usually she was proficient at containing every thought and emotion far away from her face, but tonight she found herself laid bare by the events of the previous weeks. The circles beneath her eyes were deepened by the florescent lights and the recent toxic exposure, while her eye themselves seemed hollow and empty as she faced her own worst fears as they were reflected in her partner's life. His mother was- is, she corrected herself- all he has of the time before, the only person who remembered Sam with the gentle memory of a family member. Her death would most likely push Mulder's search for his sister to a fervor which he would not be allowed to survive. Dana had excepted long ago that his continued survival- both real and professional- depended heavily upon a certain degree of calculated failure. They could plod along together forever towards the Truth, always just a step away -- close enough to smell but not see or touch, just balanced on a razor's edge between futility and success. A sigh pushed its way through her lips almost of it's own accord and she turned back to her bed. She was just so tired.... **** The glowing dial of his wristwatch read 3:30- he hadn't slept and wouldn't anytime soon. Somewhere out there was a man with answers to all his questions, a man who could save his mother and redeem him- at least partially- for his ineptitude. But Jeremiah Smith wouldn't last long against the forces which sought to destroy. He couldn't sleep. There was too much to be done. Rising quickly and quietly, Fox Mulder dressed in darkness and disappeared into the night. **** Dana awoke early with a certain sense of foreboding. Something was wrong. It didn't take long for that something to present itself. Mulder was gone. At some point during the night he had slipped out of the hospital and gone, she knew, in search of an uncertain savior. Dana knew that he was desperate- understood that desperation on a level that frightened her. What would she have traded for this same opportunity when her father or sister could have been saved? And he was out there somewhere, blindly searching for a shred of hope to cling to. She could only pray that he wouldn't find it before she found him. **** New York City May 20th 11am Mulder paid off the cab a block early and exited quickly, looking around for any possible tail. Sensing he was alone he continued one block to a three story apartment building - 3813 Bay Bridge. This New York address was one of six that Scully had found for "Jeremiah Smith" - it hadn't taken long for him to duplicate her research. He didn't pause to consider the time he could have saved by simply asking for her help. The "second"Jeremiah Smith's apartment was at the end of the hallway on the third floor. The flimsy brown door looked like all the others, with the exception of the yellow police tape drawn accross the entry. Mulder looked at it -- deciding whether to break in. "He's not there no more!" a brusque woman's voice called out. Mulder turned, seeing a middle-aged woman with too much hairspray and too much makeup lumber toward him from an apartment down the hallway. "The guy that lived there -- he got hauled to jail in the middle of the night." "What? " Mulder turned his full attention to the woman. "What did he do?" "Cops said he was running a drug lab." "NYPD?" "Naw, it was just like last weeks 'Cops' -- DEA, I think. They's come in running with machine guns." Taking in the appearance of the man in front of her, the woman lowered her voice to a whisper,"You one of his clients?" then erupted into a belly laugh. Mulder just gave her his best blank stare as the woman moved toward the staircase. After picking the lock, he found the small dwelling had been sparsely furnished, but what the "man" had had was strewn in every direction. Pushing down thoughts of his mother's situation, he quickly exited the building. **** From danadrives@aol.com Fri Sep 27 22:30:45 1996 Path: news.ro.com!www.nntp.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!news-peer.gsl.net!news.gsl.net!portc01.blue.aol.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: danadrives@aol.com (DanaDrives) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Talitha Cumi: Second Chances 2b/8 Date: 27 Sep 1996 23:30:45 -0400 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 156 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <52i655$r7i@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: danadrives@aol.com (DanaDrives) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com **** FBI Building Basement Office May 20th 12:30pm Without taking her eyes from the computer screen Scully's fingers punched out the cell phone number by rote. She double clicked, scrolled and brought the receiver to her ear, expecting to hear the "no service" message for the twentieth time. To her surprise it rang once and then his voice. "Mulder." "It's me. Where are you?" "Driving out of New York.... I'm heading back to Rhode Island." "You ditched me again." A long pause. "I know... I did... but it wouldn't have mattered anyway." "You didn't find the other Jeremiah Smith, did you." "They're eliminating them, Scully. I bet they were all gone by the time we were admitted to the hospital last night." He was giving up. She could here it in his voice and it frightened her. He never gave up. "I'm not so sure about that... I've been making some phone calls... doing some research." "What?" "When you get to your Mother, stay put... I'm coming up there." Scully didn't let him respond before she had hung up and her fingers were dialing again. **** The two sleeping forms were bathed in the muted flourescent light of the hospital room. Standing in the doorway, Scully wondered if Mrs. Mulder had fallen asleep at her son's beside when he was sick as a boy. She softly sqeezed his shoulder, but he still awoke with a start. Groggily he rose and ushered her out side his Mother's room. Before Scully could speak, Mulder apologized, "I'm sorry I ditched you... there really isn't any excuse." "It's a hard habit to break, eh, Mulder?" She caught his downcast eyes with hers. "I was worried about you." He nodded, repentantly. "How is she doing?" He shrugged, shook his head. "She's still in a coma... I don't think she looks too good." He changed the subject. "You said you found something out?" iI think there might one of these guys left... I've been making some phone calls -- all the 'Smiths' from Florida, Chicago, to Seattle have either been mysteriously arrested or 'dissappeared.' All but one." He cocked his head to ask her to continue. "How do you feel about a trip to California? I got *us* tickets for tonight." "Scully, you don't have to do this with me -- this is about my mother... I can't ask--" She cut him off with a look. "Don't do this again, --" The sound of a beeping alarm from the machines in her room suddenly ended the argument. Mulder slipped back in the room, Scully and nurses following. "Mom... I'm here," he tried to reach out and touch his mother, but he was pushed out of the way as the staff set about stabilizing her condition. **** End part two. From danadrives@aol.com Fri Sep 27 22:30:47 1996 Path: news.ro.com!www.nntp.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!hunter.premier.net!news-peer.gsl.net!news.gsl.net!portc01.blue.aol.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: danadrives@aol.com (DanaDrives) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Talitha Cumi: Second Chances 3/8 Date: 27 Sep 1996 23:30:47 -0400 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 198 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <52i657$r7j@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: danadrives@aol.com (DanaDrives) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com Talitha Cumi: Second Chances Part 3 of 8 by Adu2@aol.com DanaDrives@aol.com Disclaimer in part one. Thunk. With a final tug, the soft sided bag fell from the top shelf to land at Scully's feet. Wondering how many times she'd packed or unpacked in the past months, she started the ritual of gathering her things for the flight to California. Most of the small bags were already packed- cosmetics, bath supplies, and the like in travel sizes and ready to go. The ritual was perfected by now so she was able to let her mind wander as she filled the suitcase. Mrs. Mulder was hanging on- as was her partner- at least for the time being. The fact that she had stabilized after he last bout of low blood pressure was a good sign. She could still recover, at least partially, miracle man or no, though Dana knew that Mulder would blame himself for anything less than a full recovery if he failed to return with another Smith to heal her. But there wasn't really any proof that this man *was* what Mulder claimed him to be. There was no evidence that he was a healer, a miracle worker, and most likely he was just another man. She would allow that *perhaps* he was another clone- another Gregor- but she saw no reason to place Mulder's level of belief in the man's powers. A ringing broke her out of her reverie and she dropped a small umbrella into the bag at the same moment she picked up the phone. "Scully, I don't think you should go." "Excuse me?" "You heard me. I don't think you should go. This isn't something that you need to get involved in and besides I could probably use you more here in DC." "Mulder, I thought we'd already been over this... " The silence on the line was filled with her partner's distracted tension. "Look Scully. I don't want you to go with me. Is that clear enough? I don't want to have to worry about you- where you are, if you're ok. I just want to take care of this and I can do it better without you. I don't need you on this one." The words became more bitter as he spoke, finishing in a raw, biting tone that physically hurt her. Confusion and fear filled her and she blindly felt for the bed beneath her as she sat. "And don't follow me. Do you understand? I'll call you if I need you but otherwise I don't want to see you or hear from you. In fact, why don't you go up and stay at the hospital with my mom." It wasn't a suggestion, it was a demand. It took all her strength to steady her voice, "Are you sure?" The silence was his response. She could imagine the look on his face- staring past her, not even acknowledging her presence. There was a click and he was gone. **** Any passerby familliar with the FBI would have recognized the man at the payphone as Fox Mulder as he hung up the telephone, turned, and moved down the corridor to the exit sign. In those few steps, however, that familliar face changed as he made himself unrecognizable before slidding into the smoke filled car. "It's taken care of. She won't be available." The cigarette bobbed in the darkness as its owner acknowledged this fact. "Good. I didn't want to have to hurt her again. And Mulder will be easier to control if he's on his own." **** "Dammit Scully," Mulder muttered to himself as he listened once again to the voice mail message answering her cellular number. She was either out of range or her phone was off, but either way she was late. Their flight was boarding- final call blared past him as he glanced worriedly up and down the walkway. She could be in trouble, he knew, and he faced a moment of horrible indecision. Should he wait? Should he go after her? She wasn't at home, wasn't at the office... normally these circumstances would send him searching for her, but now he knew that his mother was depending on him. He hadn't been able to save his sister. He had to do all he could for his mother. Scrawling a quick message to leave with a ticket agent and vowing to continue trying her cellular from the airphone, he made his decision and strode down the boarding gate. **** Dana paced past the nurses' station for what felt like the hundredth time in the past hours. She had done as she'd been asked, was watching over Mrs. Mulder as carefully she would her own mother- double- checking medications, making sure that no one had access to the room that shouldn't be there. She felt powerless but knew that Mulder was doing what he thought best and it was, after all, his mother. She'd seen him this focused only once before, but one didn't spend much time in the Hoover building without hearing the stories about "Spooky" when he got wound up in a case. It worried her to imagine how much more intense his response would be now that the stakes were so high. She was afraid for him. With a sigh, she turned back to Mrs. Mulder and another night of waiting for her partner's call. **** End part three From danadrives@aol.com Fri Sep 27 22:27:59 1996 Path: news.ro.com!www.nntp.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!news-peer.gsl.net!news.gsl.net!portc01.blue.aol.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: danadrives@aol.com (DanaDrives) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Talitha Cumi: Second chances 4/8 Date: 27 Sep 1996 23:27:59 -0400 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 323 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <52i5vv$r5b@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: danadrives@aol.com (DanaDrives) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com Talitha Cumi: Second Chances Part 4 of 8 by Adu2@aol.com DanaDrives@aol.com Disclaimer in part one. San Jose, California May 21 7am PST Driving north on Highway 280 from the San Jose Airport, Mulder hit the speed dial once again on his cell phone. < Why isn't she picking up> "Maybe she's on a plane," he thought aloud as he pulled into the fast lane heading toward Cupertino, a large suburb of San Jose. Heading toward, he hoped, someone who could keep his mother alive. After pulling over once in order to consult his map, he found the address he was looking for -- 42 Portside Lane. He sat in the car for a moment thinking of his next move, watching people leave their homes on their daily rush to work. The residence was a modest townhome which lay on a street dotted with fairly new homes. This place did not stand out amongst the rest, just as the man who lived within did not stand out amongst other human beings -- he wasn't supposed to. He really wished that Scully was there with him. He knew she worried about him when he went off on his own, that's why he acquiesced to her insistence that she go along. It didn't make any sense that she didn't make the plane. But unfortunately, he knew that he couldn't have done it... He had lost control again, driven by and overarching need to make right what he hadn't done before. Just as it had been with Samantha. < One last chance > He dialed her voice mail at the office and left another message. Hopefully she'd pick it up from Rhode Island. Or when she landed here in California. Up the street, shrouded by a large Maple tree, a gray sedan sat parked as it had all night -- the two men within silently watched Mulder approach the dwelling. The man in the passenger seat punched the speed dial and waited for his superior on the other end to pick up. At the answer, he spoke: "Mulder has arrived. Should we stay or should we go in and have a 'conversation' with him?" **** Mulder was not surprised to find that no one answered the door and proceeded to pick the lock. Unlike the apartment in New York however, he found that this man's residence had not been ransacked. Wandering about, he found that there were no personal momentos, no pictures, no letters. The acoutrements of the living room and dining area had that transitory look of rented furniture, beige and unoffending. The upstairs was more of the same and there was no sign of Jeremiah Smith. Peering out the bedroom window down to the miniscule backyard he pondered the apparent hopelessness of his situation. He turned and began to head downstairs. On reaching the final step he was struck by a blow in the stomach and then hit over the head. Aware of the rustle of feet and large hands on him, he realized he couldn't stop the gray haze that was overcoming him and taking him out of consciousness. **** Providence General Hospital May 21 10:17 am EST Looking at her watch, Dana Scully realized that she hadn't left the ICU of the hosital in over 16 hours. She hadn't been outside and the lack of exposure to sunlight was starting to get to her. She wondered if she should try calling him. Peering out of Mrs. Mulder's room, she found someone on the payphone down the hallway. Upon pulling her cell phone out of her purse, she was astonished to see it blinking steadily "No Service" and it dawned on her that the phone wouldn't work this deep in the hospital, surrounded completely in walls of thick concrete. Swiftly, she rushed out of the room and "borrowed" the phone from the nurses' station. She dialed his cell phone -- no answer. She depressed the release button and dialed her voice mail in Washington. When it picked up two beeps revealed two messages. Both were from Mulder. The first: "Scully, where are you? The flight's about to board. You should have been here 45 minutes ago. I'm going to have to get on now, but try to catch the early morning flight out. I'll hook up with you in San Jose." The second: "Hey, its me. It's a little after seven here I've found Smith's house. I assume you're on a plane right now. I've booked us into the Hilton downtown. Meet you there later this morning." "Oh my God.... Why didn't I see it?" Scully went pale. Images of Mulder attacking her in a Germantown motel over a year ago flashed through her mind. Images of a man who looked like her partner, but then mysteriously changed before her eyes. "Agent Scully?." the nurse at the desk inquired. "Are you alright?" "I'm fine. Look, I need to leave and take care of something." She scrawled her cell number on a brochure. "Please call me if there are any changes in Mrs. Mulder.... And remember, *no one* is to see her." With that she was off. **** Mulder awoke to find that he couldn't see. Well, maybe it was more correct to say that it was so dark that he couldn't see. Despite the throbbing in his head and the ache of what were surely bruised if not broken ribs, he could tell that he was in the trunk of a car. A car that was moving at a high speed. The tires hummed a fast tune on grooved pavement. A highway? Maybe. His mouth had been taped with some sort of heavy tape. He was uncomfortably laying on his side and his arms and legs were tied. His left arm had already started to fall asleep. After a short while the hum of the tires slowed and he could tell they had left the highway and entered city streets. Soon came the sound of railroad tracks and the uncertain sound of tires stopping on gravel. The lid popped open and his abductors unceremoniously pulled him out and dragged him away from the car. They were in a railroad yard and were heading toward a bunch of rusted boxcars on what looked like some sort of repair track. Mulder thought ruefully of the irony. Strangely, they just threw him up into the boxcar and climbed in with him... out in the middle of nowhere it seemed. One of the men- the taller one- kicked him in the legs and then in the back near the kidneys. He winced violently and a guttural cry escaped from beneath the tape which bound his lips. They roughly flipped him over and through the pain, he had the sensation of his shirt sleeve being pulled up and the minute sting of an injection in his already sore left arm. Something that tingled slightly was making its way through his veins. He looked up at the two men, the sunlight backlighting them, making it difficult to see their faces. The shorter one spoke, "Agent Mulder, we know what you want. It's time to go home, you are *not* going to find it." And then they were away, sliding the side door shut, but not locking it. It didn't make any sense, he thought. Why didn't they just kill me? Or were they just trying to delay him? Why did they let me see who they were? He knew the answer to that one.... these sorts of people had no paper trail. They'd never be found. The futility of it all filled him and he let himself pass out to avoid the aching in his body that had spread from his soul. **** San Jose 3pm PST Scully sat in her rental car at the airport reviewing her map. She had just tried Mulder's cell phone to no avail and called the San Jose Hilton to leave a message but found that he had never checked in. She stared at the cheap renditon of Santa Clara County that accompanied her rental agreement and felt utterly hopeless. She sighed, throwing the map to the passenger seat, "I guess I have to follow Mulder's trail," and set her sights on the address copied from Social Security records. As she threw the car into reverse her cell phone chirped. "Scully." "Agent Scully?" "Yes?" she answered, trying to place the voice that sounded so ominious and eerily familiar. "I believe you are looking for your partner. Boxcar. Santa Clara CalTrain station." The line clicked off. "Wait." Scully realized who the voice belonged to -- X -- the man who always new so much more than he was willing to tell. **** End part four From danadrives@aol.com Fri Sep 27 22:28:35 1996 Path: news.ro.com!www.nntp.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!news-peer.gsl.net!news.gsl.net!portc01.blue.aol.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: danadrives@aol.com (DanaDrives) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Talitha Cumi: Second Chances 5/8 Date: 27 Sep 1996 23:28:35 -0400 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 187 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <52i613$r5j@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: danadrives@aol.com (DanaDrives) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com Talitha Cumi: Second Chances part 5 of 8 by Adu2@aol.com and DanaDrives@aol.com Disclaimer in part one. For the crowd gathered in the Cafe -- don't you people ever go home? **** The blinding sunlight added to the intense headache pounding behind her eyes as Dana pulled into the parking lot behind the station. Lack of sleep was mixing with guilt to produce a copper-penny tasting fear that congealed on her tongue like paste. She attempted to reason herself out of the panic which had begun to pulse through her brain with the same rhythm as the throbbing. The voice hadn't specified which boxcar, or that she should hurry, which she concluded to mean that Mulder was stationery- hurt but not badly so, or at least trapped in the car. A wire fence surrounded the train yard, intended to prevent purposes such as hers. A quick survey showed no holes or breaks in the fencing, so up and over the eight feet of wire was her only choice. **** The tall black man observed from a distance as she scaled the wire barrier and dropped to the gravel below. Assured that she was well on her way to discovering her errant partner, he turned to go. He never saw the blade that sliced through his jugular. Or the face of the dark-headed man who held it. **** "Mulder, Mulder it's me. Can you hear me? We have to get you out of here. Come on, wake up." The voice plowed through the black fog filling his head, pulling him back from the clutches of darkness. "Scull....," his tongue was thick and unresponsive, hampered further by thick tape, the light too bright for him to find her face. He knew she was there, didn't need to see her. He could feel her and that was enough. She slipped an arm beneath him, pulled him to his feet and began to lead the way out of the abandoned car. After only a few steps he faltered, unsure that he could continue. "We have to get out of here now," the urgency in her voice communicated volumes to him. She was frightened for both of them but had no time to explain details. The image of Mulder's source would join the growing number of faces that danced through her nightmares. She had found him saturated in his own blood, eyes wide with surprise, lying next to the boxcar in which they now stood. He hadn't been dead long, mere moments it seemed to her, which meant that the killer was nearby. Mulder's wounds were serious, but not serious enough to warrant risking it- they had to clear out. Alex Krycek watched from a distance as the pair stumbled into the sunlight. Mulder would be dependent upon him from now on. He had no other choice. He would be Mulder's new source. **** 7:45pm He wasn't coming around like he should have. Dana Scully paced nervously across the threadbare carpet of the Motel 6. Mulder had been unconcious for too long and she was beginning to wonder if she had been wrong to forego a hospital visit. She knew they couldn't risk it. She had dressed his wounds just as she had a hundred times before, but this time it felt different. He clutched at her hand, fought her, finally forcing her to medicate him into submission. But now he wasn't coming out of the sedative. Her cellular trilled, startling her a bit more than she expected-or was comfortable with. "Agent Scully, I believe that I have some information you're looking for." The voice in her ear shocked her and she found herself choking back the bile that was rising in her throat. Krycek. "Agent Scully? Are you there? Or maybe you're just not interested? I'm sure I could find someone else who would be- or at least someone interested in the location of your little hide-a-way. Not a very romantic spot for an afternoon liasion, but then again, I never thought Mulder had very good taste." For the first time in her life she was completely lost- no words sprang to her tongue to defend or destroy. Scully realized that despair was dangerously close, that she had no idea what she should do. To deal with him would lower her to his level. To not deal with him could cost Mulder's mother her life, at least in his mind. "Call back in an hour, Krycek. I need to think about this." "Don't think too long Scully. Mrs. Mulder doesn't have that long. For that matter, neither does Mulder." "What do you-" The phone clicked and he was gone. Frantic was the only word to describe her now. She had seen no evidence of punctures during her minstrations, but there was no way to tell if he'd been drugged in some other manner. Inhalants, something he'd been forced to swallow- she should have seen it sooner. Or possibly a more serious head injury- there hadn't been an obvious wound, but a blow or some other trauma- She had to get him to a hospital. And then she had to decide. Could she sell her soul for Mulder? And if she did, would she ever be able to reclaim it again? ******* Another hospital, another emergency room. Dana Scully paced the hallway. She'd taken her unresponsive partner into the nearest hospital she could find and they gave him adrenaline to bring him out of the effects of the sedative and whatever else was holding him unconcious. He had regained conciousness briefly, but then fallen to a drowsy sleep as they began the process of moving him to a room. He'd only opened his eyes long enough to assure himself that Scully was there. She came to his side and grasped his hand and saw the look of relief cross his face when he saw her. She was more surprised though, at his mumbled- "Always saving my butt, aren't you, my Scully." She knew the remark wasn't truly possessive in nature, and that fact scared her to death. Due to everything they'd seen and experienced together, she could honestly say that Mulder was her best friend - her *truest* friend, even. And it wasn't that she hadn't thought of him as anything more than a partner or friend, but, she'd always assumed that all his passion was focused entirely on his quest. Frankly, because of all that she'd experienced with him, especially the death of her sister, she felt torn between the possibility that lurked between them and the fear of what becoming closer to Mulder could do to her life. Scully had more immediate things to worry about right now. She peered out the window of the lounge- she didn't want him to overhear the phone call when it came. Her cell phone trilled in her hand. She stared at it as it rang once more and whispered softly, "Forgive me, Melissa." She closed her eyes, clicked the talk button and spoke in a low voice. "Scully." "Agent Scully. Have you thought about my offer." "Krycek, I'm listening." He spoke quickly, giving her directions to an out of the way diner at which they could rendezvous. She clicked off and crumbled onto the waiting couch, her forhead resting in her hands. She suddenly couldn't stop shaking. ****** End part five From danadrives@aol.com Fri Sep 27 22:29:13 1996 Path: news.ro.com!www.nntp.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!howland.erols.net!news-peer.gsl.net!news.gsl.net!portc01.blue.aol.com!newstf01.news.aol.com!newsbf02.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: danadrives@aol.com (DanaDrives) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: Talitha Cumi: Second Chances 6/8 Date: 27 Sep 1996 23:29:13 -0400 Organization: America Online, Inc. (1-800-827-6364) Lines: 157 Sender: root@newsbf02.news.aol.com Message-ID: <52i629$r5u@newsbf02.news.aol.com> Reply-To: danadrives@aol.com (DanaDrives) NNTP-Posting-Host: newsbf02.mail.aol.com Talitha Cumi: Second Chances Adu2@aol.com DanaDrives@aol.com Part 6 of 8 Disclaimer in part one ****************** She knew she couldn't leave on her "errand" without seeing Mulder. He was asleep, resting comfortably according to his minders. Scully stood staring at him for a while thinking of how peaceful he looked. Impulsively she drew her hand accross his forehead, attempting to make the hair lay down. She rested her hand on his head, feeling for a fever. Reflexively, she snatched her hand back when he stirred. Caught in the act of an intimate gesture, all she could do was offer a sheepish smile. For what seemed like an eternity, he stared into her eyes -- she couldn't look away -- his stare was like a magnet. "Hi." He broke the silence, disconcerted by her tense look. "Hi yourself." "Scully.... Thank you." "Thank you?" "You're always there to pick me up--" "--Mulder, we can talk about the details later," Scully interupted him, sensing an emotional confession that she was ill- prepared to handle. "I've got a lead I need to check up on, I have to shove off here pretty soon." "What is it?" "It's too long to go into -- and I'm not sure it's going anywhere yet. I need you to trust me on this one for now." She smiled trying to reassure him. "You going to be okay here by yourself for an hour or so?" "Uh huh. Sure." He couldn't hide the concern he felt from his face no matter what he said. "Okay, then..." She turned to leave and then felt his hand grab her elbow. "Scully... thanks again...." He paused to make sure she was really listening. "After all these years I've realized that without you I'd be dead -- I couldn't have made it without you." Again she couldn't break the seriousness of his stare. "Oh, I don't know about that." She tried to grin nonchalantly, to no avail. "Well, I'll be back soon." With that he released her arm and she fled the room. ****** 10:13pm The diner was right where he said it would be. The Cafe August was a small establishment tucked in between a cleaners and a video store in one of the many sterile strip malls that dotted this valley. Scully parked on the far end of the parking lot and studied the location. The electric sign of the resturant was defective -- only part of it was fully lit -- the word CAFE, and the last half of the other word - UST. "How odd," she thought, "something about that reminds me of home." Looking down to the door, she caught sight of another familiar form. "Krycek. That bastard." She shocked herself saying this audibly.