From: Annette Gisby Date: Thu, 08 Jun 2000 07:55:47 GMT Subject: REP: THE WHITE ROOM III: OF MAIDENS AND MADNESS by Annette Gisby TITLE: The White Room III: Of Maidens And Madness AUTHOR: Annette Gisby EMAIL: annette.gisby@which.net and penguin2@cableinet.co.uk CATEGORY: MSR, M/S married, X, A KEYWORDS: Angst SUMMARY: A case re-opens old wounds. Continues on from the White Room II: Memories, but can stand alone as well. ARCHIVE: Yes please, especially at gossamer and Spooky and ephemeral OF MAIDENS AND MADNESS The girl had never felt so alone. There were other people on the beach, but either they didn't see her or chose to ignore her. She couldn't really blame them. She'd been on the streets for months now, she didn't know exactly how long, and she stank. Really, really stank. What she wouldn't give to have a nice long shower or bath and she had to squeeze the tears back as she thought of home. A home where she was no longer welcome. She placed her hands on her swollen abdomen, feeling the tears well up again. Her parents hadn't believed her, she hadn't really expected them to, but it hurt all the same that they thought she was a liar. She had never lied to them. Her father was the worst, calling her all the vile names he could think of. Whore. Slut. Jezebel. And the worst one of all. Devil's Spawn. She'd run away that night, the night she told them of her predicament. They hadn't tried to find her. She stopped, her bare feet sinking into the sand. Was that a contraction just then? It passed quickly and she continued on her journey. She felt the stares of everyone on the beach. What must they think of her with her filthy clothes and hair in such a bedraggled state? What would they think if they knew who her parents were? She stopped at the foot of some sand dunes, panting for breath. She needed to get to a hospital, soon. She wouldn't be able to birth this baby without help. The girl was terrified of what was going to happen. She was too young for this, she was only thirteen, but she had made a promise and her promises were always kept. The climb up the sand dunes was a struggle, but at last she reached the crest and her destination. The shop stayed open late in Summer, selling ice-creams and cold drinks to the hot tourists. Not that it was ever very hot in this part of Ireland, but the shop seemed to do a brisk trade anyway. The sun was already sinking below the horizon and she hurried as much as she could, she had to get there before the shop shut. Out there on the sand, it had been a contraction, and she was getting another one. She gritted her teeth and tried to breathe through it. She reached the door just as the owner was putting up the 'closed' sign. "Aunt Sarah!" she shouted through the glass. The door opened a fraction. "My God! Catriona, is that you?" The girl nodded and grimaced as she felt another spasm rip through her. Sarah O'Keefe opened the door fully to let her come in, locking the door quickly behind her. She led the trembling girl out the back into her living quarters. A sparsely furnished room with noting but a table and sofa. She sat Catriona on the sofa. "The baby! It's coming!" gasped Catriona, doubling over in pain. "Wait there, I'll call the ambulance," said Sarah. Catriona sank back onto the cushions. She wasn't going anywhere. And neither was the baby unless they could get her to a hospital. Fast. She looked up as her aunt returned. "It'll be about ten minutes, Catriona. You just hang on. You poor child. Is this why you ran away? Because you couldn't tell your parents?" "I told them. They wouldn't believe it." "That you were pregnant?" "Oh, they believed that all right. They wouldn't believe who the father was." "Oh? And who is the father, Catriona?" "God." ***** "Morning, Scully," said Mulder as soon as she entered the office. He was engrossed in some slides that he had yet to project onto the screen. He was wearing his glasses and her heart did a flip-flop. God, he looked cute. She licked her lips and smiled seductively at him. His eyes widened and he dropped the slide he was holding. "Scully! How may times have I told you about that?" "About what, Mulder?" she asked innocently "You. Lips. Work." "I thought you liked my lips, Mulder." He groaned and turned away from her. Scully smiled at his discomfort. She loved to tease him, especially now. She had every right to tease him now. Her hand reached underneath her jacket and fingered the gold chain and its pendant. A plain gold ring. A ring which only three months previously Mulder had put on her finger. She was married to Mulder. It still amazed her to think about it. It also amazed her the amount of self-control Mulder had. There were ground rules that she felt she wanted to break. No sex at work, for example. She'd had her eye on their desk for a long time, even before they got together. The ring's mate was on an identical chain around Mulder's neck, but hidden beneath his shirt. Neither of them were foolish enough to wear the rings to work. There were people who would use the knowledge they were married to destroy them. And they had a lot more truths to find yet. She dropped the ring and paid more attention to the slides that Mulder had just projected. "Three teenage girls, aged between thirteen and fifteen. They all died after giving birth by caesarean section at Dublin's Memorial hospital, so did the babies, a few hours after birth." "Hospital negligence? Or maybe the girls' age? They were very young. It's a traumatic operation, at any age. What makes you think it's an X-file?" "Claims the girls made when they found out they were pregnant. They told their parents that they were still virgins and that they were carrying God's child." Scully stared at him, open mouthed, but no sound emerged for quite some time. "You're serious, aren't you?" "Yep. And get this, the reason given for the caesarean, they all had intact hymens, and couldn't give birth naturally." "Virgo intacta? So they were virgins?" "It certainly seems that way. And they didn't die because of the operation. They were all murdered. Both the mothers' and childrens' hearts were removed. By hand. The word "Devils" carved into their chest." "And no-one saw anything?" "Not a thing. There was another girl, Catriona Malone. The same thing, but she survived. She was the only one who didn't make it to the hospital on time, and had to have a home birth. Is it scientifically possible, Scully for a virgin to get pregnant?" "I don't know of any animals who reproduce asexually, but there are quite a few plants who reproduce this way. But in the case of asexual reproduction, the resulting offspring would be a clone of the mother, only having her genes." "I don't think that was the case here." "Why?" "All the children were boys." "So, when do we leave?" "How soon can you pack?" ***** The plane was crowded and they didn't get a seat together. Mulder was a few rows behind her, being entertained by a lively five year old. Scully's eyes misted over and she tried to tell herself that it was nothing, that she was over it. But she was lying to herself. She would never be over it. *They* took her fertility away from her and that was something that she could never forgive *them* for. She reached into her pocket and touched what resided there. It was all she had left of Emily. A crumpled photo and some bad memories. Scully craned her neck to see Mulder engrossed in conversation with one of the flight attendants. A very pretty flight attendant. Was it jealousy, that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach? A few minutes later, the attendant came over and whispered something to the man seated next to her. He looked at Scully and smiled. "You should have said," he told her, before getting up and swapping seats with Mulder. "Mulder? What is going on?" "I told the stewardess that we were newlyweds and I would like to sit next to my wife." "You didn't!" "I did. And anyway, it's the truth. I do want to sit next to my wife." Scully smiled at him as he reached for her hand. He knew how much she hated flying and it was only tolerable when she was sitting with him. She didn't feel as vulnerable, or as ill when Mulder was there to hold her hand during the flight. "You look exhausted, Scully. You should get some sleep." "I can never sleep on a plane, Mulder, you know that." "Lean on my shoulder, I can guarantee that you will fall asleep." He held his arm out in invitation and Scully snuggled up to him, doing as he suggested. She felt completely relaxed and protected. Something she hadn't felt for a long time. It was all down to Mulder. She couldn't believe she was lucky enough to be married to him. Something woke her, she had fallen asleep after all. Mulder was stroking her cheek with his fingers. "Wakey, wakey, we're here," he said. Scully felt tears form at the corners of her eyes at the look he gave her. He was staring at her with such awe, such wonder, as if he couldn't believe his luck either. "Scully? You okay?" he asked worried. "I'm fine, Mulder. Really." She gave him the biggest smile she could manage while they waited for everyone else to get off. Once the crowd had thinned out, Mulder reached up to the overhead locker to get their carry-on luggage. As they left the aircraft, the stewardess gave them a knowing smile. Scully felt herself blush, even though she knew that they were here on a case. They waited by the luggage carousel in vain. The airline had apparently lost their luggage somewhere over the Atlantic. Either that or it hadn't been on the plane at all. Mulder, of course, was convinced that the Bermuda triangle featured in the disappearance somehow. "Well, at least we have a change of clothes in our hand luggage. Do they have any idea when it might turn up?" asked Scully. "They took the name of our hotel and they'll let us know. They think it'll probably be on the next flight. There's been a mix-up in Washington, apparently. We weren't the only ones to be left stranded without our cases." Mulder looked livid and Scully hoped he had calmed down by the time they interviewed the girl. The look on his face would probably scare the poor girl half to death. They hired a car and made it to their hotel without incident, although it did feel weird to be sitting in what would have been the driver's side back home. Scully kept reaching out for a steering wheel which wasn't there. After some quick showers and a bite to eat, they made their way to the small village about twenty miles outside Dublin. "What's the address again?" asked Scully as she glanced at the map. "Number one Shore Road. Is it on the map?" "No, but it must be somewhere near the sea with a name like that. Take the next right, that leads to the beach." "Okay," said Mulder and turned the wheel. The road was little more than a sandy lane, with room for only one car at a time. Scully prayed they wouldn't meet another vehicle coming towards them. Branches of over-hanging trees scraped along the car's sides with a metallic screech. Scully shuddered at the noise. "There goes our deposit," said Mulder with a shrug. As Mulder turned a corner, Scully saw the building out of the corner of her eye. A hand-painted sign hung from the porch. It had seen better days, as had the rest of the ramshackle edifice. 'O'Keefe's Ices'. "That's it, isn't it? It was Sarah O'Keefe who wrote to you?" "Yes. So this must be Shore Road. I didn't see any signs, did you?" "No," Scully shook her head. Sarah O'Keefe was waiting for them by the entrance to the shop, her arms folded against her chest and a glare in her eye that would have done Scully proud. "The beach is that way," Sarah pointed to her left. "This is private property." Scully arched an eyebrow. Private property? How did the woman expect to get any customers with an attitude like that? "Sarah O'Keefe?" asked Mulder, reaching into his pocket for his ID. "Who wants to know?" "I'm Agent Mulder, this is my partner Agent Scully. We're with the FBI. You contacted us about Catriona Malone?" "So you're finally here are you?" she snapped at them. "Well. You can just get back on that plane and go back where you came from." "I don't understand," said Mulder. "What's to understand? You're too late." ***** "Too late?" echoed Scully. "Yes. Catriona and the baby have disappeared. They'll probably turn up murdered now, just like the rest." "You know about the others?" asked Mulder. "Ireland is a small country, Mr. Mulder. Everyone knows about the others. I suppose you'd better come in, since you did come all this way to talk to Catriona." Sarah backed away from the door so Mulder and Scully could follow her in. They passed through the shop into the back room. It was clean and tidy, but the few items in it were threadbare and scraped. What available surfaces there were, were covered in photographs of the one man. "My husband, God rest his soul," said Sarah when she saw Scully glance at them. "Would you like some tea?" "Thank you, that would be lovely," replied Scully. She couldn't quite fathom the woman's change of heart. Sarah had gone from rude to the perfect hostess, what had wrought about the change? They were soon to discover that tea in Ireland didn't mean just tea. A trolley was brought out from behind a curtain bearing china cups, but alongside them there were plates of food. Sandwiches, cake, biscuits. Enough to feed a small army in fact. Sarah poured while Mulder exchanged a bemused glance with Scully. "Thank you, but you needn't have gone to so much trouble," said Scully. "It's no trouble. I don't get many visitors now that John's passed away. We weren't blessed with children, Catriona was like my own daughter. I'll never forgive my brother for what he did to that poor child." "Your brother?" asked Mulder. "Yes, Catriona's father. Brian Malone. He's a doctor at the hospital. Can't think why they keep him on, he hasn't got a compassionate bone in his body. He's an obstetrician, but he refuses to deal with unmarried mothers. Says it goes against his religious principles." "So Catriona's father wouldn't have approved of her pregnancy?" asked Scully, stirring her tea before taking a sip. "No, he wouldn't. That poor wee girl turned up on my doorstep, ready to have the baby there and then. She'd been on the streets, I'm sure her father had something to do with that. He wouldn't have allowed such a sinner in his house. His words, not mine. I don't know why she didn't come to me sooner, I would have taken her in. Maybe she was scared that her father would come looking for her. This would be the first place he'd look. "He's telephoned a couple of times to check if I'd seen her. I hadn't, not then. When she was actually here, he didn't check at all. It was as if he knew she was here and didn't need to check." "Did you believe her story?" "About being a virgin, you mean? Well, put it this way, Agent Mulder. I've known Catriona since she was a baby and I've never known her to lie. Her father is so strict, I don't know how she could have had a boyfriend. She goes to an all girl convent school. All the teachers are nuns. The only male staff are the caretaker and the cook. Both are well into their sixties." "Could she have been meeting someone in secret?" asked Scully. "I don't know. It would have been difficult though. She was only allowed out to go to school. Either her mother or father drove her to school and back each day. She was never out of their sight." "Was she allowed to visit you?" asked Mulder. "No. That was one of my main arguments with Brian. He didn't think I would be a good influence on her. Really what he meant, was that he didn't want her anywhere near John. He didn't trust men, any men around his daughter." "Mrs. O'Keefe, I'm sorry, but I have to ask this. Was there any reason to suspect that your brother might have been involved in Catriona's pregnancy?" "From abuse, you mean? I have to be honest, Miss Scully. That was the first thing that crossed my mind. Brian is a cruel man, he was a cruel child too. I still have the scars. But from what Catriona told me, I don't think he's got anything to do with it. And anyway, the doctor who came to deliver her, he said she was a virgin. He had to break the waters artificially with some needle thing." "An amniohook?" said Scully. "Oh? It's that what it's called? Are you a doctor?" "Yes, but I'm not practising. Do you know the name of the doctor who delivered Catriona's baby?" "It was Dr. Collins. He lives up at the Manse, you may have seen it on your way in? The big house with all the ivy?" "We did catch a glimpse of it, Mrs. O'Keefe. And Dr. Collins lives there?" asked Mulder. "Yes, him and that witch of a wife of his." Scully spluttered, almost spraying Mulder in tea. Obviously there was no love lost between Mrs. Collins and Sarah O'Keefe. She did wonder what sort of secrets this seemingly pleasant town was trying to hide. They took their leave of Sarah and drove up to the Manse. "What do you think happened between them?" asked Mulder. "Sarah and Mrs. Collins? I've no idea, do you think it's relevant?" "Maybe. I'm not convinced that Sarah was telling us the whole story. I get the feeling she was holding something back." "Like what?" "I don't know. As I said, it's just a feeling." Scully nodded as Mulder turned the car into the driveway of the Manse. The house was enormous, four floors of red brick almost completely covered in ivy. Latticed windows which looked as though they hadn't been cleaned since the house was built, which was probably about a hundred years ago. Scully undid her seatbelt and got out of the car, but Mulder stayed where he was. "Mulder?" "You go and see Dr. Collins, I think I'd like a word with Brian Malone. His name seems to be cropping up an awful lot." "Okay, I'll get a cab and meet you back at the hotel. Where will you be? At the hospital?" "Yes, since Sarah neglected to mention where her brother actually lives. Hopefully I'll be able to wangle it out of the hospital staff." Scully waved him off and walked towards the door of the Manse. There was a large old-fashioned door knocker in the shape of a lion's head. She had to rap twice before the door was answered. A woman opened the door, glancing at Scully as though she was something nasty a cat had dragged into her perfect house. She was wearing a pale linen skirt and a tweed jacket, her grey hair scraped back from her face in a severe knot. "Yes? Can I help you?" "Is Dr. Collins in?" asked Scully, reaching in her pocket for her ID. "The FBI? What is your interest in my husband?" demanded the woman. "We're investigating the disappearance of Catriona Malone." "That slut!" Scully quirked an eyebrow. "Slut?" "Well, she must be, mustn't she? How else do you explain the fact that she got pregnant at thirteen?" Well, Mulder certainly had a few theories on that, but Scully didn't think that Mrs. Collins would be particularly interested in any of them. "You'd better come in, I suppose," said Mrs. Collins, opening the door a fraction wider so that Scully could follow her into the hall. The hall was panelled in wood painted white. Their heels clicked along the black and white tile floor, which resembled a chess board. Plants in various stages of decay stood on the few tables which adorned the hall, its only furniture. Mrs. Collins stopped at a heavy oak door and knocked forcefully. "Robert, there's someone to see you. FBI." The door opened and Dr. Collins peeked out, his lined face showing a hint of surprise. "The FBI? Do come in. Clare, can you arrange some tea?" "That's quite all right," said Scully. Another Irish "tea" would be too much. She hadn't quite recovered from all she'd eaten at Sarah O'Keefe's. She followed Dr. Collins into the room while Mrs. Collins gave her a filthy look. The study was lined with bookshelves, groaning under the weight of so many worthy tomes. Books overflowed onto the floor and even the grate of the fireplace had a new use as a book depository. There wasn't a spare chair in the place, so Scully elected to stand while she explained why she was there. "Yes, I delivered Catriona's baby. And from what I could tell, she was a virgin." "Have you any idea how she might have got pregnant, then?" She saw Dr. Collins look at her cross. "Besides a miracle," Scully smiled at him. She was comfortable with Dr. Collins, maybe it was being with another of her profession, but more likely it was because he reminded her of a doting grandfather. "I'm sorry, Agent Scully. I just don't know." "Could Catriona's father be involved? Her aunt seemed to think he might be." "Her aunt?" "Sarah O'Keefe," explained Scully. "My dear Agent Scully. Sarah isn't Catriona's aunt. Sarah is her mother." ***** Scully stared at him. Sarah O'Keefe was Catriona's mother? Not her aunt? So why on earth didn't Sarah tell them that? Why was it such a big secret? "I don't understand," said Scully, just as Mrs. Collins knocked the study door. Dr. Collins sighed and went to open it. "What is it now, Clare?" "What were you wanting for dinner? I have to do the shopping." "Anything. I'm rather busy right now." Clare Collins walked away, her heels clipping on the floor. Scully had the impression that Clare wasn't so worried about shopping for dinner but more about what she and Dr. Collins were discussing. "Where was I? Oh, yes. About Sarah and Catriona." "Are you sure that Catriona is Sarah's daughter?" "Oh, yes. I delivered Catriona. Sarah is definitely her mother. It was very upsetting for Sarah. She and John had always wanted children, you see, but John had a low sperm count. It was a cruel irony that the only child Sarah ever had was the result of a rape." Scully felt herself pale and looked around for somewhere to sit. Mulder should be here. She shouldn't have to deal with this on her own. Dr. Collins noticed her distress and swept some books off an armchair, they flew open with a whisper of paper. "Agent Scully? Can I get you anything? A glass of water?" "No. Thank you. I'll be fine. It's just, it's just ... the same thing happened to me." She couldn't explain any further than that. She didn't want to. It was hard enough admitting it to herself, never mind strangers. She thought she was over it. But maybe she'd never be over it. There would always be something to remind her of what had happened, especially in their line of work. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" asked Dr. Collins. "Yes. I'll be fine. So what happened with Sarah and the baby?" "As I said, I delivered the baby. Sarah wanted to keep it, but her husband, John, refused to have anything to do with the child. I don't think he was entirely convinced that Sarah was actually raped, you see. But if he'd seen her straight afterwards, like I had, there wouldn't have been any doubt." "Why hadn't he seen her? Didn't she go home?" "Her husband was a long-distance lorry driver, he was away a lot. Sarah came to me when she was raped, she didn't know what else to do. I wanted her to go to the police, but she wouldn't. Thought they wouldn't believe her. My God, if they'd seen the state she was in! He was a monster, whoever he was. She was covered in bruises and there was blood everywhere. Damn near broke her skull. She was lucky to be alive." "So, Catriona lived with her aunt and uncle then?" "That's right. Brian and his wife adopted Catriona, they thought that would be best, rather than have her go to strangers. I'm afraid my wife took it very badly." "Your wife?" asked Scully. She felt she ought to have a scorecard to keep track of the Malone family tree. Things were getting more complicated than she expected. "Yes. After the rape, I was seeing a lot of Sarah, I was the only one who knew, you see. She didn't even tell her family. I was only being a friend to her, but my wife was convinced that we were having an affair and that I was the father of Sarah's baby. They used to be very good friends, but not any more." Dr. Collins walked to the window and glanced out at the overgrown lawn. He pulled the blind down, as though ashamed that Scully might see it. "Does anyone know who Catriona's real father is?" asked Scully. "No, only Sarah, and she's not telling." "Do you have any idea who might have taken Catriona, or where she might have gone?" "I'm sorry, Agent Scully. I wish there was more I could do to help." So did Scully. ***** She woke up with a pounding heart, the blankets a sweaty tangle around her. The nightmare was back. She hadn't had it for quite some time, ever since she and Mulder had become lovers in fact, eight months ago. She reached out and tried to cuddle Mulder, but he wasn't there. She sat up in bed abruptly. Where had he gone? More to the point why didn't he tell her he was going anywhere? As she scanned the room, she saw a note propped up on the table where the television was sitting. She draped a sheet around her and padded over. It was brief and to the point. "Scully. Gone for a run. Back soon. Mulder." As long as that was all it was. Mulder hadn't tried ditching her for a while, but she felt it was only a matter if time before his old habits would creep back. He still felt that it was up to him and up to him alone to save the world. Didn't he realise they were a team? Especially now that they were married. It had been a simple ceremony, held in her Mom's garden. Skinner and her mother the only ones in attendance, to serve as witnesses. They hadn't wanted anyone else to know. She had been surprised how very supportive they both were, agreeing that a secret ceremony was best, if that's what they wanted. They had intended to take a leave of absence at the end of the month, in effect their honeymoon, but this case had come up and that was the end of that. They had been in Ireland for three weeks and were still no closer to finding Catriona and her baby. It was also three weeks of lying next to Mulder and yet being unable to touch him. He'd wanted to make love a few times, but Scully couldn't face it. The case was getting to her and she just couldn't relax enough, even when they were alone in their hotel room. She decided to take a shower while she waited for Mulder to come back from his run. They were due to interview the coroner again today, who had done the original autopsies. Scully could still see the black and white pictures of the girls and their babies, the chest cavities ripped apart. She didn't know how much longer she could go on, before everything collapsed around her. She just wanted it to be over. That Catriona and the baby would just walk in and everything would get back to normal. That was the problem, though. As long as they were working on the X-files nothing could be normal. Scully turned on the shower, willing her brain to switch off for a few minutes. It was like a constant radio in her head, she just wanted some peace for a while, was that too much to ask? The water was too cold when she got in. It would never clean her. She turned the temperature up as far as it would go, ignoring the steam rising from the shower head. The needles of water stung her with searing heat and she could feel her body blistering, but she chose to ignore it. She had to get clean, she had to. She felt filthy after the dream. The dream of THEM and what THEY did to her. The hot water ran out, and she stood under the cold spray, shivering and shaking. But she couldn't get out yet, she wasn't clean. She had to get clean. If she wasn't clean, Mulder would see how dirty she really was and he wouldn't want her. She took the scrubbing brush and rubbed herself raw, so raw that it was painful, but she accepted the pain. She deserved it, didn't she? She was filthy, unclean, defiled and vile. Mulder would soon see through her and then where would she be? Trying to see through tears and the spray of water, she tuned off the shower and stepped gingerly from the tub. It was difficult to get dried with the rough hotel towels, and she winced more than once when she rubbed a bit too vigorously over her tender flesh. She glanced up in alarm when she sensed Mulder at the door of the bathroom. "My God! Scully, what have you done to yourself?" "I - nothing. The water was just a little hot. I'm okay." "Scully, look at yourself! You're not okay, you're burned. Did you put cold water on it?" Scully nodded, remembering the cold shower spray. "Maybe I should see the coroner, and let you get some rest." "No. I'm fine, Mulder. I don't need to rest, we just need to solve this case. And you're not doing it without me." "Fine. Just give me a minute to get showered and we can go." "There's no more hot water," said Scully, feeling guilty. "It'll have to be a cold one, then, won't it? Probably for the best, anyway, isn't it?" Scully didn't dignify that with a reply. How could he make a remark like that? He knew what she'd been through, and he knew how upsetting this case was. She just couldn't turn on and off her libido like a tap, even if Mulder could. She brushed past him into the bedroom and began to get dressed. She would have to play it very cool from now on. There was no point in getting Mulder involved. Maybe he would think she was upset about the case and nothing more. She hoped so. Because the thing was, she didn't know what was wrong herself. ***** The journey to the coroner's office was made in an uncomfortable silence. Scully felt tears very close to the surface, but she held them back. She didn't want to cry in front of him. Crying was one weakness she couldn't afford right now. She glanced at him a few times, hoping to catch his eye, but he kept his eyes on the road ahead, hardly acknowledging her presence at all. Scully wondered what was wrong. Surely he couldn't have been mad at her because she scalded herself a little in the shower? Or maybe it was because they hadn't made love for so long and he was getting a bit frustrated? She thought he would have been more understanding than that. "Mulder?" there was more than his name implicit in the question. "You lied to me, Scully. You lied." "What are you talking about? When?" "For months now. There's no point in denying it. I found them." "Found what?" "Your pills. Your *contraceptive* pills. I thought you were meant to be infertile? Have you been lying all this time? Saying that you don't want children, when all the time what you meant was that you didn't want my children, is that it, Scully?" Scully burst out laughing, but Mulder didn't see the funny side. "Mulder, you idiot! They're hormone pills, not contraceptives. When I came back from my - my - abduction, my cycle was all over the place. I have to take replacement hormones, otherwise I'd go through an early menopause. They keep my cycle regular, that's all." "I'm sorry, Scully, I just thought - well never mind." "It's okay, Mulder. I'm upset about it too. You know I would love to have your baby if it were possible, don't you?" "I know, Scully." He reached over to caress her cheek. "And I'm sorry for being such a pain lately. I don't know what's got into me." "It's this case, Scully. It would get to anybody. How about when its over, we go away somewhere, just the two of us?" "A belated honeymoon you mean?" "Yep." "Sounds good to me," replied Scully as Mulder turned into the hospital car park. The coroner, Dr. Coleman was so tall that he towered over Mulder and dwarfed Scully. His shoulders were slightly hunched, as though he was embarrassed about his height and tried to make himself as small as possible. His suit was tired and creased, matching the wrinkles underneath his eyes. He kept sniffling, as though he had a cold, but Scully thought it might have been from all the chemicals he came into contact with every day. She was glad she wasn't doing autopsies full time. Mulder spent the time while Scully was interviewing the doctor roaming round the morgue and looking intently at each drawer, maybe wondering about the occupants. "Did you notice anything unusual about the bodies?" asked Scully. "Besides the fact that they were ripped apart, you mean?" "Yes. Were there any puncture wounds, needle tracks, anything like that?" "I hope you're not suggesting that I tell their families you suspect they've been involved with drugs?" "I'm not suggesting that. I'm interested in your theory as to how the girls became pregnant. Was there anything to suggest some form of artificial insemination?" "I don't see how that would have allowed the hymen to remain intact." "What if it was injected somewhere else?" "The semen?" "Yes, what if it was somehow injected into the girls' ovary or fallopian tube through her abdomen? If it was timed right, and they were ovulating, wouldn't they have become pregnant?" "I've never heard of this procedure, is it American?" asked the doctor. "I don't know if it's even feasible, I'm just trying to figure out some way that this is scientifically possible." "You'll have a hard time convincing people of that. Everyone is convinced that's it's a miracle. The hand of God, not science." "But why were they murdered? And why carve the word "devils" on their chest?" "Religious fanatic, that's my bet. Have you talked to Catriona's father? He's hell bent on ridding the world of depravity, as he sees it. Unmarried mothers were just one of the things he gets on his soapbox about." Mulder walked over to them, trying to avoid the slab in the middle of the room, but Scully could see his eyes drawn to it just the same. What was he imagining? Himself on there? Or was it her? She shivered, and it had nothing to do with the air conditioning. ********** Brian Malone was an angry man. A man who thought that the answers to life's problems lay in the bottom of a whiskey glass and in his fists. He was nursing his second glass of the evening and glaring at the prone form of his wife as she lay still and motionless against the side of the door. Look what she'd made him do. There was a large smear of blood by the wall, where she had hit her head on the way down. He was still staring at the glass of liquor when the police came for him. ********** It was dark where she was and cold. She couldn't get warm, no matter what she did. Her hands and feet were numb, her throat raw from crying and screaming. Neither of them seeming to have any effect on her captor or captors. Her breasts ached, heavy with milk that she couldn't give to Joshua, because they had taken him away from her. They took her baby and left her here to die. She was going to die, she knew it, but the thought of death didn't scare her. It was the thought of what they might do to her first. ********** Scully paced up and down the interview room while Mulder tried to question Brian Malone about the death of his wife and the disappearance of his adopted daughter. He wasn't saying anything. "Why did you kill your wife?" asked Scully quietly, hoping to shock him into revealing something. He just smiled at them, before giving all his attention to a non-existent piece of fluff on his jacket. Scully felt like screaming with frustration, and if the look on Mulder's face was anything to go by, so did he. Mulder grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and stalked out. Scully was about to follow him when Brian stood up and beckoned to her. She glanced nervously at the door but Mulder was long gone. The gardai sergeant stood outside the door, looking bored. Scully walked towards Brain Malone, checking that her gun was ready to use if she needed it. He bent over the table and whispered in her ear, with what she hoped was some pertinent information. "The maiden mother has no head." Just that cryptic statement. Nothing more. No confession. No clue as to where Catriona might be. Scully felt like punching him. Instead she walked out and slammed the door as hard as she could. Mulder was in the canteen, drinking coffee when she found him. "Where were you?" he asked. "Malone wanted to talk to me." "Did he give you anything useful?" "Not unless you're into cryptic crosswords. Something about the maiden mother has no head." "Any idea what it means?" asked Mulder. "No. Unless...no that's too easy." Scully called over one of the policewomen who was eating her lunch and pretending she wasn't eavesdropping in their conversation, but failing miserably. "Yes, Agents?" "Lucy, isn't it?" asked Scully. "Do you know if there's an old church somewhere around here? Maybe the windows or statues are broken? A statue of the virgin Mary without a head?" Mulder smiled at Scully, realising what she was getting at. Progress at last. "Yes. St. Brigid's. It's about half an hours drive away. I can take you there if you like." "Great. Can you arrange some back-up as well? I think we might need it," said Mulder. "Back-up? For an old church?" "Not for the church. For what's in it. I think we may have found Catriona." ************ Catriona was in the old church, in a vault below the altar which Scully guessed may have been the crypt. Catriona was in shock, emaciated and dehydrated. Her abductor had given her nothing to eat, and only a glass of water a day. It was all that was keeping her alive. They took her to hospital as soon as possible where she was treated for hypothermia and shock. She kept calling for Joshua, but Catriona's baby was nowhere to be found. The doctor at the hospital had to sedate her before she would rest. Seeing that she was settled and knowing that she wouldn't be able to tell them anything about her ordeal until she was stronger, Scully suggested that they go and tell Sarah O'Keefe that Catriona would be all right. They were both silent on the journey, the only noise coming from the engine. Scully wondered if Mulder was thinking about what Catriona had gone through, or was he thinking of what his sister may have gone through? Maybe he was even thinking of Scully's own abduction. That's what she was thinking about. She couldn't get the image of what they'd done to her out of her head. It was like being continually plagued by a nightmare, only this nightmare was real. Scully wanted to believe that Catriona would be okay, but she knew it was a futile hope. Scully wasn't okay yet. Some days she felt like she just wanted to crawl into a corner and die. It felt as though Mulder was the only thing keeping her sane. When they reached Sarah O'Keefe's house, she was nowhere to be found. But they did find something else in the kitchen. Formula milk, bottles and nappies. Scully stared hard at the evidence that confronted them, yet couldn't quite believe it. They'd been wrong all along. It wasn't Catriona's father they had to worry about. It was her mother. The place was in a mess, dirty dishes in the sink, a bin filled to overflowing and giving off a terrible stench. It reminded Scully of cabbage that had been boiled too long, reminiscent of school dinners. It looked like Sarah had left in a hurry. By unspoken agreement they went back to the car and headed for the only place they knew of to look. Back to the old church. Why would Sarah kidnap Catriona and baby Joshua? It didn't make sense. Did she also kill the other three girls and their babies? Why? That was the question she hoped would be answered. They found Sarah in the church, baby Joshua in her arms, leaning by the altar. She set the baby down on the altar, where he promptly began screaming. Scully watched as Sarah took out a knife and hold it to the baby's neck. "Keep away. I'll do it. They had to die, can't you see?" "But why, Sarah? They're only children," said Mulder, inching his way forward. "Evil children. Spawn of the devil. That's what they are. They have to die." Sarah raised the knife in the air and brought it down towards the baby. "NOoo!" screamed Scully and dived for Sarah, knocking the knife from her hand. In the ensuing struggle, the knife nicked Joshua just below his chin. Sarah staggered back, holding her eyes and shrieking. "Now! Can't you see? Can't you see what he is?" she sobbed. Scully and Mulder looked at the baby to see what Sarah was talking about. They saw all right. Scully felt the world tilt and then she was in Mulder's arms. Joshua was bleeding. His blood wasn't red. It was green. ************* She came to with the wailing of sirens ringing in her ears. Mulder was leaning over her with Joshua in his arms. Scully looked beyond him, Sarah was sitting on one of the pews, holding her handcuffed hands to her face. "Are you okay?" asked Mulder, rocking the baby. "Did you see?" she asked him. "I saw," replied Mulder quietly. There was silence, except for the occasional sob coming from Sarah. As Scully stood up, she glanced at the baby in Mulder's arms. There was no sign of any cut. It looked as though he had healed himself. The paramedics and police arrived, Scully and Mulder were happy to let them take over, but not without warning them. "Be careful with the baby. He has a - condition, his blood is toxic, be sure to wear protective gear," said Scully to the paramedics before walking outside and into the sunshine. It didn't take long before Mulder followed her. They waited until everyone had left. Scully broke down in sobs as soon as the police car and ambulance had turned onto the road. Mulder cradled her in his arms and she buried her face in his chest. She couldn't seem to stop crying, great massive sobs which tore at her soul. She felt a wetness in her hair, and realised Mulder was crying too. They clung to each other as the sun sank below the horizon, each aware of the other's pain as keenly as if it was their own. Mulder pulled her tight against him before pulling away completely. He was staring at the graveyard. The headstones were so covered in moss and lichen that no names were visible. His shoulders were stooped, as though he was trying to make himself smaller. "Mulder? Are you okay?" "I'm fine," he said, repeating the phrase that she must have told him over a thousand times. Hers was a lie, and she guessed his was too. "I was just wondering," he said, walking towards one of the graves, which had an elaborate stone angel as a marker. Scully followed him, thinking that heels were not the best shoes to wear walking around a muddy graveyard. "If they had the technology to make virgins pregnant, maybe they could help you." Scully froze in her tracks, actually felt the blood in her veins get colder as she stared at him. How could he even suggest that to her? After what had been done to her, *against her will* , he wanted her to crawl back to them for help? "No, Mulder. Never," she said vehemently. "But Scully, just think about it. If --" "There's nothing to think about. I don't want anything from them." "Not even a baby?" "Especially a baby! God, Mulder, how could you even suggest it?" "Because I wanted a baby. Our baby." "Exactly, Mulder. If we go to them for help, the baby would never be ours. We would be beholden to them for ever. Do you want that? Do you want another child like Emily? To be born only to be experimented on and then die? Would you put another child through that just because we want to be parents? Would you put me through all that again?" Mulder's silence spoke volumes. "My God! You would! You'd have them experiment on me again, *rape* me again just so you could have a child?" "I didn't mean it like that," said Mulder quietly. "If you want to be a father so badly, Mulder, maybe you should have married someone else!" "Maybe I should have," the words were spoken so softly that she almost didn't catch them, but she heard. The words were out in the open now. And there was no way to take them back. ******** They didn't utter a word on the way back to the hotel. Scully had never felt this angry with him before. It was burning in her chest and gnawing away at her insides. She could hardly bear to look at him. He had his eyes fixed on the road and his hands clenched so tightly on the steering wheel that his knuckles were white. Not once did he glance in her direction, as maybe by not looking at her he didn't have to acknowledge that she was there. But she was there and she was mad as hell at him. He pulled into the car park rather abruptly and she had to hold on to the dashboard to stop herself from falling. "I want to go and talk to Catriona," said Mulder, still not looking at her. She noticed he said 'I' and not 'we'. Well, fine, if that's the way he wanted to play it. "Do what you like, Mulder. I'm staying here." She got out of the car and slammed the door as hard as she could, but the effect was spoilt somewhat by the fact that the strap of her bag got caught in it and she had to open the door again to remove it. It was only after the car drove out of sight that she let the tears fall. Bitter salty tears that stung the back of her throat and did little to relieve the pain she was feeling. She should have realised that Mulder was a man driven, that everything was extreme for him. Whether it was his quest for Samantha, the cure for her cancer and now a child. He didn't seem to realise that there would be big consequences for his actions. Going to them for help should not even be an option. What did he hope to achieve by going to them for help? An alien hybrid like Emily, born only to die when they no longer had any use for her? Mulder would be selling his soul to them and she couldn't allow him to do that. She debated whether or not to have a bath or shower before going to bed, but in the end just washed her face and brushed her teeth. It didn't matter what time Mulder came back, this was one night she wouldn't be waiting up for him. It was no surprise that she had nightmares given her mental state. In the dream she was in the white room again, the tall grey aliens peering curiously at her with their black lidless eyes. She couldn't move, couldn't wake up, even though she kept telling herself that it was only a dream. The room was slightly different from what she remembered when she had been held captive there. There were windows here, set high up in the wall, windows of stained glass. The white walls dissolved and she was staring at he bard stone of the old church. A storm was raging outside, rain battered against the windows, a musical accompaniment to the wind's howls. Suddenly the windows blew in, shattered glass cutting ribbons of red on her bare feet. She looked up and saw gaping holes where the heads of saints should have been. Glass and debris littered the aisle, the wind whirling them around like a miniature tornado. came a voice. She looked around but there was no-one there. Her feet seemed to move of their own accord and led her towards the altar, a marble slab for the top, supported by two columns as the legs. There was a dip in the middle of the top slab, as though it had been worn away by frequent use. Her limbs suddenly felt heavy, as though they couldn't support her weight. It would be good to rest. To lie down. Just for a moment. Just for a while. "Scully! No. Don't do it!" The voice was Mulder's but it seemed such a long way away, it was hard to listen to him. But the other voice was right here and she was so tired. She lay down on the altar, surprised to see that she was dressed in a white robe. As though she had been prepared for this. She knew now what she was. A sacrifice. Terror filled her and she tried to move, to get away, but her arms and legs were immobile. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a hooded figure without a face and in his hand something glinted with reflected light. A knife. He had a knife. There was nothing she could do but watch as he brought the knife down towards her abdomen and sliced her open. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound escaped from her locked throat. There was blood everywhere. On her robe, on the walls, on the floor, on the bed. The bed! She could see the bed. She willed herself to wake up, but found no relief. It wasn't a nightmare after all. Mulder was there, staring at her with a look of utter horror and incomprehension on his face. "My God, Scully? What have you done?" Mulder reached for the knife just as it fell from her nerveless fingers. ***** She knew she was in hospital long before she opened her eyes. It had that hospital smell of stale vomit and disinfectant. Mulder was holding her hand so tight that it hurt. She tried to move them, but couldn't. Leather restraints pinned her wrists to the bed. She thrashed about trying to get some leverage. "Ssh, Scully. It's okay. It's okay," soothed Mulder. But she didn't want to be soothed. She wanted these things off. Now. Didn't he know how terrified she was of not being able to move? "Mulder. Undo the straps. Please." "I'm sorry, Scully. I can't." "Why? Why am I restrained?" "So you can't hurt yourself again." "But I didn't hurt myself," said Scully, genuinely confused. Then she remembered. A dream. A knife. Someone had stabbed her in the dream. She looked at Mulder, desperate for an explanation. Anything except the one that was rapidly forming in her mind. "What happened, Mulder? I can't remember." She felt the tears stinging her eyes and tried to hold them back, but it was no use. They fell with a force which surprised her. "I came back and found you on the bed. You were cutting yourself with a knife. Your abdomen mostly, but also on your legs and thighs. You've lost a lot of blood, but the doctors think you'll be okay. Physically, anyway." Scully glared at him. "They think I'm mad?" "Would any sane person do that to themselves, Scully?" "But I didn't! I was having a dream and somehow, they got mixed up. I didn't deliberately harm myself, Mulder. You've got to believe me." "You were cut in your dream?" "Yes. I don't even know where that knife came from. It wasn't there when I went to bed." Mulder looked puzzled, but not as much as she was. She knew she hadn't deliberately knifed herself, but how else could it have happened? Mulder had found her with the knife and jumped to the obvious conclusion. But was it the right one? They turned their head as they heard running footsteps in the corridor. The door burst open to admit Sarah O'Keefe, brandishing a knife that looked remarkably like the one Mulder had found on Scully that morning. "You have to die!" she cried, lunging at Scully. Mulder intercepted her wrestled her to the ground, the knife falling with a clatter to the floor. Doctors and nurses came running in, one of them carrying a straitjacket. They bundled Sarah up and took her away. Mulder collared one of the doctors as they were leaving. "What is going on? Why isn't she in jail?" he demanded. "I'm very sorry, Agent Mulder. She's in the psychiatric wing pending the trial, but she somehow got out of her restraints. We only discovered it this morning." "So she could have been missing since last night?" asked Mulder with a pointed look at Scully. The doctor blushed and they had their answer. Mulder undid the straps holding Scully's wrists and rubbed them to get the circulation going again. The doctor was about to protest when he saw the icy glare Scully gave him. "I'll get someone to check you over, Agent Scully. Just to make sure you and the baby are all right." "What did you say? Is that some sort of sick joke?" "I - I- - I'll go and get Dr. Collins," he stammered. A short while later Dr. Collins arrived and explained everything. Scully was in fact pregnant, three months in fact. She couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe that she hadn't known. She just hoped that taking the hormone pills hadn't done any lasting damage. "I don't understand. I don't have any ova, how could I have got pregnant?" Dr. Collins didn't have an answer for her, but Mulder had a theory of sorts. She didn't see Dr. Collins leave. "Maybe some of your ova were left behind. Perhaps no technology, even theirs is one per cent foolproof. Are you happy about it, Scully?" "I don't know. It'll take a while to get used to. All this time thinking we can't have any children and now, it seems to have happened so suddenly." "Are you still mad at me?" asked Mulder. "What for? Keeping me here or talking to Catriona without me?" "Both, I suppose." He hung his head, like a child who'd been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "I can never stay mad at you for long, Mulder. You should know that by now. What did Catriona have to say? Are we any nearer to solving the mystery?" "She thinks Joshua is the second coming, his father is not of this earth." "Well, she's got that right. Any explanation for how she got pregnant?" "She said an angel came to her and told her she had been chosen to be the mother of a very special child. The angel put her to sleep and she woke up pregnant." "As easy as that?" said Scully bitterly. "but was it an angel or was it something else?" "I think we both know the answer to that, Scully." She nodded. They did know the answer. But the why? Why were they doing this? Surely there was an easier way to colonise, if that was their ultimate goal? "Do you have a theory?" asked Scully. "Do you remember Jeremiah Smith and how he healed people? What if they are trying to create hybrids who look human and can perform miracles? What would people think? What would they believe?" "They'd believe that the hybrids were God, or that God was working through them." "And what else? If people thought the hybrids were holy, what would they do?" "Anything they were asked to do. They'd obey because they'd think the orders came from God." "Exactly, Scully. Imagine it. An army ready to do your every bidding. Ask them to murder each other, it's done. Ask them to kill themselves, it's done." " 'Thy will be done.' " Scully felt the world as she knew crumble and fall away beneath her feet. Controlling the population. Control. That's what they'd wanted all along. A slave race to do their bidding, no questions asked, but the race in question wouldn't realise it had been enslaved until it was to late. Scully jumped as she felt a slight fluttering in her abdomen. "I think that was his first kick," she said to Mulder with a mile. "Here, can you feel it?" she grabbed Mulder's hand and placed it on her tummy. The baby kicked again and she saw the tears running down his cheek. "We can't let them win, Scully, we can't." "I know, Mulder. We have to fight them every step of the way." Especially now. She clasped his hands tightly with her own, cradling the new life inside her. They had something worth fighting for. END Feedback pretty please at penguin2@cableinet.co.uk -- check out my x-files fanficiton at http://homepages.which.net/~annette.gisby/index.htm