Title: Eleventh Hour Author: Rachel Anton Feedback: ranton1013@aol.com Rating: NC-17 for cussin’ and sexin’ Category: S, R Keywords: MSR, angst, kinda sorta an x-file, pre x-files Distribution: Anywhere with my name and e-mail Disclaimer: Anybody you recognize doesn’t belong to me. Summary: Some feelings defy the confines of time. Author’s notes: This story deals with time travel in a completely illogical and scientifically inaccurate way. Scully would shudder at this. It’s about feelings people :) Also, this story has a lot of parts but I promise they are all relatively short. Acknowledgments: Thanks to Laura for tireless and fearless editing and for thinking of the title! And thanks to Amy for being there when this thing was an amoebae of an idea and for helping me make it grow. February 14, 2001 It’s Valentine’s Day. Never one of my favorite days but this one has to be the topper. The worst Valentine’s Day in the history of a long line of crappy Valentine’s Days. Just as every day in the past nine months has been the worst of it’s kind. Yesterday was the worst February 13th. A month ago it was the worst January 13th. And so on. Yes, it’s been 9 months. Almost. In two days it will be 9 months. I haven’t written or spoken of this, or anything really, to anyone. Not yet. This is the first try. My court appointed therapist tells me that if I write it will help. That if I let a little bit of it go, the nightmares might abate, I will eat, I will speak. I don’t believe her. Nor do I care. I will try this though, if only to appease her, to make her stop coming to me every day. If she thinks I am making progress, maybe she will leave me alone. We were on a case. It was pretty run of the mill for us. Murder. I can’t do this. Okay, try again. We were on a murder case. There were certain irregularities in the corpses. God. Fuck it. Nobody cares about that shit anymore, least of all me. Suffice it to say we were on a case. We had a suspect and she went after him. To protect his next target. She put herself in a lot of danger. A lot. And she didn’t tell me that she was going, she just went. Just ran off without a word on a hunch. A fucking hunch. Okay, she caught the guy, single handed. But I was pissed. I was really, really pissed. I know it’s nothing I hadn’t done to her a thousand times. Hypocrisy runs deep in my blood. I went to her hotel room to try to talk to her, to ask her why she hadn’t told me. God was I pissed. She was too. She didn’t understand. God, she never understood. I think maybe she thought she did, but she didn’t, not really. I suppose my methods of getting the point across weren’t too effective. I shook her. I actually shook her. And I made her cry. I yelled and I shook and I tried to make her see how scared I was and I made her fucking cry. I was just so tired. Tired of seeing her almost die. I know it’s part of the job description, part of the risk. I accepted that risk for myself happily. I never accepted it for her though. And she was part of me. And it wasn’t fair that part of me could run off without me and almost die without even asking me if it was okay. That probably sounds chauvinistic. She’s her own person. That’s what she told me anyway. I thought she knew that I couldn’t live without her. I thought I had made that clear. I think she wanted me to tell her again. I think she wanted me to tell her why. I think I almost did. I think I was so close to it that I could taste it. It was time. We both knew that it was time already. Time to cut the bullshit and finish what we had started so many times. So many times that I wasted. But, as usual, something stopped us. This time it was a ringing phone. She shook her head when it rang. She didn’t want me to answer it. Why did I answer it? I’m sorry. I’m so Shit, all right, here we go again. I am supposed to be writing her name. That’s what the therapist said. I don’t think I can. She gave me a pen and paper the other day and asked me to write it, just once. I couldn’t. I scrawled out the shaky beginnings of an S and then just gave up. I don’t even want to try now. Anyway, I answered the phone. It was the sheriff. He wanted me to come down to the station and fill out some reports. They needed me. That’s what I told myself, and her. It was important. Always another important thing. She held her hand out across the door and told me I wasn’t leaving until we finished this. I couldn’t. I wanted to. I was so scared. Someone needed to get a statement from the killer’s father. That was for her. I told her to do that. It was safe. It was easy. I thought I I can’t do this. February 16 Well, I showed the shrink what I’ve written so far. Good progress according to her. Yeah, fucking great. Really. I am so proud. So, here we go. I told her to go. That’s right. I demanded that she go. That she leave. She was being unprofessional, letting our personal problems take precedence over the case. I knew how to get to her, which buttons to push. God what a prick I was that day. What a frightened, frantic, nasty prick. She went. She went because I asked her to. It seemed like something simple to keep her busy for awhile. Maybe it would give her time to forget, to let this slide the way she usually let my emotional fits slide. I told her to go so that I could escape. Because I am a coward. Because I am selfish. No self-reproach. That’s what therapy woman tells me. She wants me to write this without talking about what a waste of space I am, about how pathetic I am. She doesn’t want me to write about the fact that it should have been me. How am I supposed to do that? She thinks if I can manage it they might take me off the suicide watch. I doubt that though. So, she went. She went to interview the psycho’s father and I went to the sheriff’s office. When I was there I couldn’t think of anything but the look on her face when I picked up that damn phone. I knew I had let her down. Again. And I vowed to make it up to her. Someday, somehow. One day I would have enough courage to let this thing happen, to let her give herself to me. One day I would have enough faith in myself, be a good enough person to trust myself with her. I didn’t even sense that something was wrong. I didn’t even know. How could I not have fucking known? The call came in as I was getting ready to leave, ready to face her again. I remember hoping she was delayed, that I wouldn’t have to see her for a few more hours. I didn’t want to see her. God. I didn’t want to face her. God. It was the hospital. Your partner’s been hurt. Your partner’s been shot. Shot in the head. Your partner is dying. I don’t remember what I felt. I don’t remember driving to the hospital. I swear I don’t. I’m not trying to avoid writing about it. I honestly don’t remember. I remember getting to the emergency room. I remember a woman, a nurse, talking to me. Telling me it was over, telling me she had “passed”. That’s what that motherfucking cunt said to me. “Sorry, she’s passed.” I didn’t understand. Passed? Passed what? I just kept asking the nurse where she was, over and over. I didn’t understand. It was like someone telling you the sun had exploded and wasn’t going to be coming around anymore. It just doesn’t make sense. Where did it go? When is it coming back? You just don’t understand. Eventually a doctor came up to me and told me where she was. The morgue. She was in the morgue. Doing an autopsy, I wondered. No, she’s passed. Same fucking thing. They wouldn’t tell me where the morgue was so I went and found it for myself. I’d been to enough of them to know where to look. But when I got there, she wasn’t there. There was just some guy in a lab coat and a bunch of drawers. I asked him where she was, what they had done with her. He pointed to one of the drawers and asked me to leave. But how could I leave when they had locked her in a drawer? I pulled it open and she was there. Looking back it’s hard to fathom how I could have thought she was still alive. She was cold and blue. The side of her face was God, it was just gone. But I still didn’t understand. Fuck it, I still don’t. I still sometimes think that. I guess that’s why I’m here. They tell me over and over that she’s not. I held her lifeless body in my hands. I still cannot believe sometimes. I took her out of the drawer and I started to carry her out of there. She was naked, just like the last time they had taken her, and I covered her with the sheet she was laying on and held her close to my body. The lab guy called security I suppose because soon there were men with badges and guns everywhere telling me to let her go. I couldn’t, how could I? I collapsed onto the floor, still holding her and cradled her in my lap. I tried talking to her, whispering in her ear, telling her I was sorry but she still wouldn’t wake up. I slapped her. I slapped her beautiful face and she still wouldn’t wake up. I didn’t understand. I don’t understand. Scully where are you? Scully. God. Scully. February 20th Shrink woman is very impressed with my progress. She wants me to show my entries to the group since I won’t say a word to any of them. Fuck that shit. She’s lucky I’m showing them to her. Despite my so called progress, I haven’t been able to write for the past four days. After finishing my last entry I slipped into a semi-catatonic state for awhile. That’s what they call it anyway. I dunno, I just didn’t want to do anything for awhile. What the hell’s wrong with that? Anyway, today I got bored with catatonia and decided to write a little bit. I’m supposed to talk about my “process” now. How I ended up here. I suppose it’s needless to say that after the episode in the hospital I was deemed unfit for duty and removed from the bureau. Well, they called it an “extended vacation until such time as Agent Mulder has recovered from the death of his partner”. We all knew what that meant though. I was gone for good. I didn’t go to the funeral. Is that horrible? A lot of people think that it was. Her family was furious. Her mother made a special trip to my apartment to tell me I was a selfish bastard and ought to be ashamed for not showing up. She told me her daughter would have been very disappointed in me. She’d wanted me to deliver a eulogy. They didn’t understand. How could I give a eulogy for someone who wasn’t really dead. Yes, I still thought she was coming back at this point. I thought a funeral was a travesty. It was a hoax perpetrated by our enemies. They had taken her again and put some dead clone in her place so that I wouldn’t look for her. I was absolutely certain that this was the case and wouldn’t hear anything else for a long time. I looked for her. I didn’t have the bureau’s resources but I did what I could. Lots of people tried to talk to me at this point. I guess this is when I stopped speaking altogether. I just couldn’t argue anymore. They all kept telling me she was dead and I got so tired of the sad, sympathetic look they’d give me when I told them that she wasn’t. I didn’t need their fucking pity. I still don’t. Eventually I found the man that supposedly killed her. He was very angry about her arresting his son and apparently psychosis runs in the family. He disappeared for awhile after the shooting but I managed to track him down. I guess that’s when it clicked. When I saw him I finally understood what he had done. He had killed her and she wasn’t coming back. It was no surprise to anyone that I killed him. I think if that’s all I had done I wouldn’t even be here. One clean gunshot wound to the head. If that’s all I had done I would probably just be in prison. Or maybe even free. There’s a certain leniency in the system, a code that protects those who kill someone who has murdered a law enforcement officer. But that’s not what I did. I guess you could say that I tortured him. I suppose that one could say that. I’m not interested in getting into the details. It’s enough to say that he died a slow and painful death. And I don’t regret it. At all. And if that means that I will never get out of here then so be it. I will never apologize. I will never have an ounce of remorse. Once it was done I realized that my one purpose left in life had been achieved and that it was time to blow this taco stand. I was so close. The gun was in my mouth, safety off, hand on the trigger. And then they shot me. Motherfucking cops shot my hand so that I would drop the gun. It took me a few months to get the use of my hand completely back. Dumb fuckers. It was none of their business. Why stop a man from killing himself only to put him in an institution for the criminally insane at the taxpayer’s expense. What good does that do anyone? I’m sure someone could lose an election over that shit. After they shot me they took me to the hospital. They fixed my hand and then they arrested me. It was actually pretty funny. No one seemed to know what to do with me for a long time. I sat in a jail cell, staring at the wall for a few days. Then there was a trial. Skinner got me a lawyer. I guess he was a good lawyer. He wanted me to talk though. He thought if I could express my emotional distress to the jury they would be easier on me. I think my silence conveyed the message just as strongly. Anyway, it was pretty obvious to everyone involved that I was a mental incompetent. So they sent me here. And here I am still. xxxx Mulder dropped his pen and looked up nervously. Someone was reading over his shoulder, he could sense it. He turned around to the deranged visage of Crazy Larry. Larry was often likened to an uglier, scarier version of Hannibal Lecter. Everyone in the place was afraid of him except for Mulder. Mulder understood where he was coming from. Larry had lost his entire family in one night. His wife and children had been murdered right in front of him. He’d been a scientist before that. After the murders he’d turned into a professional lunatic. The men locked eyes and Mulder closed his journal protectively. “You’re writing. That’s good.” Mulder rolled his eyes and looked away. “That’s right, you don’t talk. Well, that’s just as well. I need to tell you something and it would be better if you didn’t interrupt.” Larry sat down beside him and Mulder got up to leave. The rec. room was giving him a headache anyway. All these noisy loonies. He preferred to go mad quietly thank you very much. “Wait! Don’t leave. This is important. It’s about your girlfriend.” Mulder turned angrily back towards him. Girlfriend. Fucking asshole. Was that supposed to be some kind of fucking joke? She had never been his girlfriend. Larry saw his mistake and amended for it. “Or, whatever she was. The woman who died. The one you lost. I’m talking to you because I know you want her back. I know you’d do anything to have her back.” Mulder just glared at the man and started to walk away again. Larry grabbed his arm. Mulder was starting to get extremely frustrated with the situation. Why was he tormenting him this way? “I know a way. I know a way that you can go back and save her. Isn’t that what you want more than anything? To go back and change things so that she never died?” Bastard. Fucking bastard fucking with his head. “Isn’t that what you lie awake crying silently to yourself wishing you could do?” “Fuck. Off.” Mulder growled quietly. “Ah, we’re not completely mute.” Larry grinned. “I apologize if I’ve angered you. It wasn’t my intention.” Mulder wondered what the hell his intention was then. “It’s just that I can see you’re as desperate as I am. I want to help you. I assure you, I’m completely sincere.” Mulder doubted that but he didn’t really have anything else to do with his time. And if there was a chance, a one in a billion chance, he had to listen. How could he not? He sat back down and Larry smiled again. “Good. Good choice. I realize that you’re going to think I’m full of shit. I completely understand. This is probably going to be the most implausible thing you’ve ever heard.” Mulder seriously doubted that. “Before they brought me here I was working on a project with a colleague of mine. He’d always been interested in the prospect of time travel you see. I thought him a bit of an eccentric but when...well, when the unfortunate incidents occurred, I became interested, even obsessed with the idea. What if I could go back? What if I could change things? Make it so we’d never been in the house that night. A simple thing. Go to the movies, go anywhere. These tiny choices, sometimes they make all the difference.” Larry grew silent for a moment. His haggard face took on a haunted look. One that Mulder recognized from the mirror. Tiny things. Don’t leave. Don’t let her go. Time travel. Mulder believed it to be entirely plausible. Hell, he’d seen it. He was surprised he hadn’t thought of it himself. Change one small thing and your whole life is different. “When I was locked up I was afraid that the project would be aborted,” Larry continued. “But my colleague continued the work. And yesterday he visited me with some very intriguing news. He’s sent something back. Mind you, it’s only a rat. But the possibilities seem to be endless.” “Why are you telling me this?” Mulder asked. He was still suspicious of Larry’s motives. “Because as I said, you seem as desperate as I am. I thought you might be interested.” “Interested in what?” “Well, we’ve sent a rat. The next logical step is to attempt to send a man.” Ah, there it was. Larry wanted Mulder to be a guinea pig in some twisted mad scientist routine. “The catch of it is, the rat’s body is still here. It’s, well, it’s more or less dead.” “More or less?” “Well, brain dead. The apparatus transmits the subjects mind, their essence, their soul if you believe in such a thing, backwards in time, into the body they once inhabited.” This really was starting to sound like the most implausible thing Mulder had ever heard. It was almost laughable. “So, what happens to the old mind?” Larry shrugged in response. Great. That was just great. “We don’t exactly have all of the kinks worked out. That’s why we need you.” Mulder laughed for the first time in nine months. It was the most ridiculous, idiotic thing anyone had ever suggested to him. And it was also his only chance. And besides his meaningless life, he had absolutely nothing to lose. ******* Mulder woke up assaulted by a variety of pungent smells; dirty sweat socks, old pizza, spilled bong water, unwashed sheets. He had a strong sense of deja vu. The odor seemed strangely familiar. It bore no resemblance to the antiseptic institutional aroma he was used to waking up with. It also bore no resemblance to July 3rd of the year 2000. That’s where he was supposed to be. That’s where the ridiculous apparatus Larry had put on his head was supposed to have taken him. He wasn’t there. And he wasn’t here. Where was he? He opened his eyes and looked around. He was in a dump. An absolute pigsty. Worse than his apartment in DC on its worst days. He was lying in a small single mattress on the floor in the middle of a disaster area. A familiar disaster area. He remembered. It was his old room. His room in the house he’d shared with Mark and that other guy...Steven. That jerk Steven. It was the summer after he’d gotten his AB from Oxford. He’d been back in the States for summer vacation and he’d lived with Mark, his only friend from high school. Mark had been something of an outcast at Mulder’s school. Almost as much as Mulder himself had been. Mulder had turned into himself for comfort and Mark had turned to drugs, crime and whatever other trouble he could get himself into. They’d gotten along quite well. Mulder had been thrilled when Mark decided to go to college. He’d always been bright if somewhat disturbed. So Mulder had decided to come and spend the summer with his old friend in his new college town. Steve was just some jerk Mark was friends with. The three of them had shared a house in Maryland for the summer. And that was where he was. That was actually where he was. That crazy motherfucker had been right. He was here. Granted here was about 20 years further back then he’d wanted but still, it was unbelievable. He jumped out of the bed and walked to the tiny mirror on the wall. Stupid bowl haircut. No gray hairs. No wrinkles. This was real. He was here. Or he’d gone even further off the deep end. Either way, it was 1982 again. He was twenty one years old. Again. And he wasn’t going to meet Scully for another ten years. His momentary excitement gave way to a crushing disappointment when he realized this. He’d only wanted to go back a few months, just long enough to save her, to change that one day, not his whole bloody life. He felt suddenly and completely at a loss. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He didn’t want to relive those ten years. They had been miserable. And if he changed even the slightest thing it might backfire and result in his never meeting Scully at all. But still, she was alive. If it was 1982 she was somewhere and she was alive. And that made him feel alive for the first time since she’d died. Even if he never met her in this life he would always know that she existed somewhere. And that was a marked improvement. He looked around the room for something to wear since he had woken up completely naked. There were clothes strewn everywhere but he wasn’t sure how to judge which things were dirty and which were *really* dirty. Nothing was clean, that much was clear. He picked up a white T-shirt that was hanging from a chair and a pair of gray sweatpants that had no visible signs of filth on them and threw them on. It was time to go and face his life, no matter how tedious and frustrating it turned out to be. xxxxx Mulder found Mark in the kitchen cooking eggs. It was actually great to see his scruffy face again and Mulder almost felt like hugging him. That wouldn’t have gone over too well though. “Morning, want some eggs?” Well, he really was here. Mark saw him. “Um, yeah, sure.” He sat down at the kitchen table which was littered with beer bottles and potato chip bags. “So that was some party last night huh?” Party? Last night? Sorry Mark, last night I was in a mental institution. “Uh, yeah, sure was.” “You must have a hell of a hangover man.” He didn’t have a hangover but he was starting to get a headache. Had he really lived like this? “Yeah, yup. Sure do.” Mark placed a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Mulder. “Eat this. It’ll help.” Mulder dug into the meal and was surprised to find himself enjoying it. It was the first food he’d been able to taste since Scully had gone. “So, you psyched for that 4th of July party tomorrow?” Mulder smiled to himself. 4th of July. At least Crazy Larry had gotten the day right. He nodded in what he hoped passed for an enthusiastic way. He never really liked parties. Even then. He had gone to a lot of them that summer though, mostly to humor Mark. If he remembered correctly though, he hadn’t gone to the one on the 4th of July. A horrible recollection set in and he suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore. He had spent that particular 4th of July on the phone with Phoebe. Talking about her upcoming visit to Maryland. To him. Jesus fucking Christ. That was one thing he was going to HAVE to change. He couldn’t bear the thought of two years with that woman no matter what. “It’s gonna be great man, totally huge. Lots of freshmeat.” Mulder grimaced. Freshmeat was Mark’s loving term for freshman girls. He was starting to wonder why he had gotten along so well with this guy. He was a good person inside, Mulder knew, but on the outside he could be a little...crass. “Yeah, there’s a pre-college orientation thing this weekend so there should be lots of innocent young ladies wandering about, waiting to be corrupted. Not that you should be thinking about that my man. I keep forgetting that you’re taken.” He was taken. Ugh. “Yeah well, I’m not sure how much longer that’s gonna be the case.” “What? She dump your sorry ass already?” “No, actually, I’ve been thinking about dumping hers.” God that felt surprisingly good to say. “Excuse me? Where did this come from?” “I dunno, just something tells me that she’s not the right person for me.” And that was the understatement of the universe. “She’s hot man.” “Not really.” No way. Mulder knew what hot was now and it was not Phoebe Green. “Well, that’s cool. You should enjoy the party even more then.” Mulder seriously doubted that. He was sure the whole thing would irritate him now more than ever. And he certainly wasn’t about to go trolling for “freshet”. But he would go. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do with his time. xxxxx Dana was bored. There was no way of getting around it. She was at her first bona fide college party and she was bored off her ass. She absently took a drag off her cigarette, hoping it made her look like she had something to do. And that maybe, just maybe, it made her look older than fourteen. She glanced nervously around for her friend Rebecca again. Rebecca had dragged her here in hopes of meeting some of their soon to be classmates. So far Dana had met no one and Rebecca seemed to have abandoned her. There were so many people here. It seemed like the entire state was packed into this one tiny house. They spilled out onto the lawn and into the pool too. It was the biggest party Dana had ever been to. She found it all very intimidating. She was not generally the most social person in the world. She had managed to make a small group of friends in high school but that was all over now. Once again, she had to start over. At least she still had Rebecca. They had been friends for two years now and they had just moved into an apartment near campus. It was the first time Dana had lived anywhere but her parents house. Her family only lived twenty minutes away but it was still scary and exciting. Kind of like this party. Minus the exciting part. Dana took a swig from the plastic cup of Budweiser she was holding and told herself not to vomit. She was hoping if she managed to stomach enough of the vile stuff this party might get more interesting. Or at least seem to. So far she just felt nauseous. She was suddenly nostalgic for past nights spent with high school friends on the beach, or at someone’s house, sitting around and talking about life and boys and other stupid things. That had been fun. Not like this. How was she supposed to get to know anyone in this zoo? How was she supposed to even introduce herself? She felt more lonely than she would have if she’d been alone. Someone bumped into her from behind, interrupting her musings. She turned around to face a large man with a chiseled face and bulging muscles. He looked wasted. And mean. He looked like someone Rebecca would like. But he wasn’t Dana’s type at all. “Oops. Sorry sweetie.” Sweetie? Dana did almost vomit at that. “Hey you look kinda young to be drinkin’. How old are ya babe?” She tried to hide her grimace of disgust. At least someone was talking to her. Or rather shouting at her. “I’m eighteen.” “Really? No shit. You look younger. So, you’re legal then.” He leaned in close enough for her to smell the liquor on his breath. He was starting to make her nervous. “Actually the drinking age is twenty-one in Maryland.” Her new friend burst out laughing. “I wasn’t talking about drinking babe, I was talking about fucking.” Great. That was just swell. This was actually worse than standing by herself. “Um, look, I’ve gotta go, I see my friend over there so...” She started to walk away but the man grabbed her arm. “Wait babe, don’t go, what’s your name? My name’s John.” “Well John, I really have to go.” She pulled her arm from his grasp and ducked behind another huge man. Everyone here was so damned big. Goddamn assholes. She was sick of this stupid party. She wanted to go home. If only she could find Rebecca. xxxxx “God this place is packed.” “What?” Mulder raised his voice a few decibels to be heard over the din. “I said it’s packed.” Mark nodded and grinned. “Great huh?” Mulder smiled weakly. Great. Just great. He wanted to go home already. There were too many people and he was a tad claustrophobic. The music was deafening and the place smelled like smoke, stale beer and vomit. College party. Hooray. Mulder was still pretty happy about his accomplishment from earlier that day though. Phoebe had called as he had remembered to ask when he wanted her to come and visit. What a rare treat it had been to tell her that he didn’t think she should come at all. That maybe, if he felt like it, he’d give her a call when he was back in England. She’d seemed more shocked than crushed. Her little puppy wasn’t sniffing around her feet anymore. All in all it had been a delightful conversation and he was still feeling a little giddy from it. But not giddy enough to make this situation livable. It was worse than he even remembered it. He wished that Scully were there. They would have spent a few minutes laughing at the drunken morons and then slip off to some quiet restaurant. Maybe watch the fireworks in the park. He sighed sadly. Scully was years away. He had this to deal with first. He started looking around for the keg. There was no way he’d live through this night without at least a drink or two. He waded his way through throngs of people and eventually found the kitchen. There were a bunch of guys standing around the keg having a belching contest. Lovely. He got himself a drink and stood against the wall, observing the frantic activity around him with disinterest. Some people were dancing. Others were shouting in each other’s ears, trying to communicate he supposed. Some people were just collapsed on couches in chemically induced stupors. “Get a load of that one.” It was Steve. He was pointing rudely out the kitchen doorway at what Mulder could only assume was a piece of “freshmeat”. He glanced in her direction. She was pretty in a traditional sort of way. The sort of way Mulder might have been bowled over by before he met Scully. She was tall with long legs, long curly brown hair, lots of makeup, and skinny as a rail. Yeah she was his type all right. Back when he’d had a type. But he was more intrigued with her friend. She was talking to a smaller girl whose head was turned slightly away. He could tell she was pretty though. She had long wavy red hair that hung almost to her hips. She was wearing baggy clothes which only served to accentuate how tiny she was. She looked very young. Too young to be drinking that beer and smoking that cigarette nervously. She also looked very unhappy. She seemed to be telling her friend something urgent. Probably that she wanted to go home. It was certainly a sentiment Mulder could relate to. She was cute. There was something about her. He couldn’t stop looking. “Pretty hot huh?” “Which one?” “Which one? Are you kidding? The babe not her little sister dude. Man you’re sick.” Mulder shrugged. Maybe he was. Then she turned. She was walking angrily away from her friend, or big sister, right in Mulder’s direction. And he saw her face. And he saw her eyes. And he died. And he was reborn. It was her. God, it was her. He was paralyzed. He couldn’t move or speak as she stalked towards him. He could only stare. Gape. She pushed through the crowd and eventually past him. She seemed to him to be moving in slow motion even though she was probably walking very fast. She brushed against him as she stormed away and fixed him with a ball breaking glare. The way he was looking at her must have bothered her. She scowled at him again and moved through the back door. And then she was gone. It was definitely her. And he had no idea what to do. Should he follow her outside? Try to talk to her? The very thought sent tremors of excitement through his whole body. But what if that screwed things up? What if he screwed things up? What if he destroyed her life all over again? For the first time he thought maybe he should just stay away entirely, save her from the misery of ever knowing him, let alone being killed because of him. He told himself to stay away. At least until it was time. But he knew that all the guilt, all the self-reproach in the world wasn’t going to be enough to keep him away in the long run. He needed her. God how he needed her. And this time he would do it right. He would take care of her this time. No one was going to hurt her ever again. Including him. And as soon as it looked like he was hurting her, he would be gone, out of her life forever. He just wanted to talk to her. Just this one time. Just tonight. Just tonight. ******* “Goddamn stupid party. Stupid fucking people.” Dana worked her way through the crowded lawn, cursing this place, her life, and anything else that popped into her head. Eventually she found a quiet spot on the far side of the lawn. She was far enough that she could barely see the party and it was so dark there that no one could see her. She sat down in the grass and lit another cigarette. She was smoking way too much tonight. It seemed to be the only thing keeping her even remotely calm. For some reason as she sat there, her mind drifted back to the strange man she’d run into on her way out. He was the only person who’d even made the slightest impression on her in this hell hole. Maybe it was because he’d been staring at her like a lunatic. Or maybe it was his eyes. The way they seemed to penetrate her very soul. Or maybe it was just that he was damned cute. But he was here. He was at this party from hell and that was enough to make her hate him. But still, he was in her head and he wouldn’t leave. He seemed almost familiar but she knew she had never met him. She would have remembered those lips. “Whatcha doin out here all by yourself?” She jumped, startled, and looked up. It was her new buddy John again. Jesus Christ. “I needed some SPACE.” She said, hoping he would get the hint. “Oh, I gotcha, sounds like a good idea.” He sat down next to her, not getting the hint. John was not too bright apparently. “Actually I was thinking I should get back. I’m sure my *boyfriend* is looking for me.” She laughed to herself just saying it. Boyfriend. Right. “Boyfriend huh? Now why don’t I believe that?” “I don’t know John but you should. He’s a marine and he gets really jealous. He wouldn’t be too happy to find you out here with me so...” He grabbed her arm. Tight. Too tight. “Yeah, okay, your marine boyfriend. Why don’t you just drop the bull and sit here with me. I won’t bite. Unless you want me to.” She pulled at her arm but he had a steel grip. He wasn’t going to let her go. She felt a panicky feeling start to rise in her chest and told herself to calm down. She could handle this. She could handle anything. “C’mon babe. Don’t play hard to get. What are you shy?” “I’m not shy and I’m not playing anything. I’m not interested so just let me go.” She realized she was starting to sound frantic. She needed to get control back. She tried to stand but he pulled her back down and pushed her to the ground. He was so big, so much bigger than her. Her brother Bill probably wouldn’t have been able to take him. How was she supposed to? She felt the burn of tears beginning in the back of her throat. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t let him see her cry. But he was on top of her. He was on top of her and he was so heavy and she couldn’t breath and he was kissing her. God, he was kissing her and he was disgusting and huge and she felt the tears start to fall despite her efforts. He had her pinned to the ground, his hands holding her wrists and she knew what was coming, she knew what was going to happen to her. There was no one to help her, or even hear her if she cried out. She was alone. He started to touch her more forcefully and grind his body against hers and she used the one weapon she had, her teeth. She bit down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood. But this only seemed to make him angrier. He freed her wrist long enough to smack her across the face and rip open her blouse. She wished she had a gun. She wished she had a marine boyfriend. She wished she’d never come to this god awful place. And then she started to pray. xxxxx Where the hell had she gone? Mulder looked through the crowd on the porch, the lawn, the pool. He’d looked everywhere. She must have gone home. If she had he might never find her again. He needed to keep looking. He left the more populated area and moved towards the empty parts of the lawn. Maybe she’d come out here to be alone. If so she wasn’t likely to be pleased to see him. But at least he could look at her. At least he could see her eyes, her life. That would be enough for now. He kept walking until he reached the outskirts of the lawn. He was far away from the party now and there was still no sign of her. Then he heard something. It sounded like a muffled scream. It sounded like a woman. He started running towards the sound but it was so dark. He could barely see where he was going. He was only a few feet from the fence at the end of the yard when he saw them. It was Scully. Scully and some guy. For a minute he was terrified that he’d come across an intimate moment and felt like a total jackass. The man was holding her down and she was writhing under him in a bra and jeans. He watched them for a moment, trying to judge the situation. It looked like she was struggling but she could have just been excited or something. He couldn’t be sure. Then he heard her again. A tiny whimper. One word. No. “Get off her!” He grabbed the back of the guy’s shirt with both hands and pulled as hard as he could and then delivered what he hoped was a strong kick to his middle section. It was enough to make him fall beside Scully. The guy looked confused for a minute. Then angry. “Hey buddy, mind your own damn business okay.” He stood up to face Mulder and, he supposed, intimidate him with his height. Mulder was too furious to be intimidated. He balled his fist and hit him across the face. Blood shot out of his nose and Mulder hoped that he had broken it. Luckily the guy was so damned drunk he couldn’t even hit Mulder back. He staggered backwards into the fence and Mulder grabbed his throat and pinned him against it. “I think it’s time to go back to the party sport.” “What the hell is your problem man?” “Do you want more of this?” Mulder demanded, using his free hand to belt the guy again. “I’ll kill you I swear to God!” “Alright! Jesus.” Mulder let him go and he staggered off in the direction of the house. Mulder turned back to Scully. She was standing with her arms crossed over her chest, giving him that same glare. He walked closer to her and touched her cheek gently. “Are you okay?” She jerked away from his touch. “I’m fine.” Oh yeah. It was his Scully all right. He felt like dancing. He felt like screaming. He felt like pulling her to him and never letting go. His Scully. This had happened to her. And he hadn’t been around the first time. How far had it gone? Had that man raped her? Why had she never told him? He felt like crying suddenly. Not this time though. This time he was doing it right. But why had she come out here with this jerk in the first place? He felt suddenly and inexplicably angry. Why was she always putting herself in danger like this? “Are you sure? You don’t look fine.” She really didn’t. Her shirt was ripped and there was the beginning of a nasty bruise on her cheek. She was shaking and there were tears streaming down her face. “I said I was fine. I can take care of myself.” “Can you?” “Look I was handling it all right. It’s none of your business anyway.” “Oh yeah, you were handling it great. Why the hell did you come out here with that asshole anyway? What were you thinking?” He regretted the words instantly. He was talking to her as if he knew her. Like he had some kind of claim on her life. The way he would have talked to her in their future. And even then it would have pissed her off. Now it positively infuriated her. “Excuse me? What the hell does that have to do with you? Who the hell are you? You’re not my fucking father!” She started to walk away from him. It was the same thing. It was the same fucking argument. He wasn’t going to let it happen again. He couldn’t let her get away. Not like this. “My name is Fox Mulder. And you’re right. And I’m sorry.” She turned back to him. That was something. “Well Fox Mulder, for your information I didn’t come out here with him, as you know because you were gaping at me when I came out by MYSELF. I came out here to get away from this goddamn zoo but it seems to have followed me so I’m going home.” She turned haughtily on her heel and started walking back to the party. He ran after her and started walking beside her. “Wait!” “What?” she scowled. She hated him already. It made him sad but it also excited him. She was Scully. She was invigorating, frustrating, challenging. She was the same woman he’d fallen in love with. And she was here, alive. “How are you going to get home?” “I’m going to find my friend. She drove me here. Not that that’s any of your business either.” He couldn’t help but smile. It was Scully. Scully, he had to stop calling her that. He wasn’t even supposed to know her name yet. He needed to ask before he screwed up. “So, what’s your name?” She stopped and turned to him. “Look, I am not in the mood for this all right?” “Is your friend that girl with the brown hair? I saw her before. She didn’t look ready to leave.” She sighed audibly and rolled her eyes. “Oh. I get it now. Her name is Rebecca and she’s inside. I don’t run interference for her so if you wanna talk to her go do it yourself.” She stormed away from him again and he groaned at his own stupidity. Now she thought he was after her friend. What was he going to do wrong next? “No. No, I don’t wanna talk to her. I just...I just wanna know your name. And to know that you’re gonna get home all right. That’s all.” He looked into her eyes and prayed that she could see what was there, that she could feel the honesty, the connection. He prayed that she could trust him, that he hadn’t lost that. xxxxx He seemed sincere. He seemed to be on the level. He didn’t seem drunk. But Dana was still wary. How was she supposed to trust anyone at this place? He had helped her though. For whatever reason. Had he done it so that he could have her to himself and do the same thing? No. That just wasn’t right and she knew it. Fox Mulder. He sounded like a spoiled little rich boy. Fox. Whatever. And what the hell was his problem? Acting like her father, acting like what had happened had been her fault. Condescending jack ass, that’s what he was. That’s what she told herself. Or tried to. It didn’t really work. Fox was a cute name. And an appropriate one. He hadn’t just been angry before, he’d been afraid for her. He cared. For some reason, he cared. “My name is Dana Scully and I have no idea how I’m going to get home tonight.” He smiled at her and dammit he had a gorgeous smile. So sweet, so soft and warm. Damn him. “Well Dana Scully, I am truly sorry about the way I acted before.” “No, I’m sorry. You...you helped me. And you’re right. I needed it. So um...thank you.” That had to be the hardest thing she’d ever said. She was rewarded by an even wider grin, and an even cuter one. She felt her stomach do a little flip flop at the sight. No. Not this guy. Not at this place. “So Dana Scully, you see your friend anywhere?” They had reached the party and there was no sign of Rebecca. She did see John though, sitting in a corner with his buddies, nursing his wounds. He hadn’t noticed them yet but Dana was sure that there would be trouble if he did. Fox Mulder may have been able to kick John’s ass but he wouldn’t be able to handle a whole group of Johns. “No, I don’t see her. And I kind of think we should get out of here.” She gestured towards John and he nodded in agreement. “That would probably be a wise decision.” He led her out of the house and to the front lawn. There were more people out here but she still didn’t see Rebecca. “So Dana Scully, what do we do now?” Dana shrugged helplessly. “I dunno. God this is a nightmare.” “These parties always are.” Well, that was a point in his favor. At least he didn’t actually like it here. “Um, yeah I guess. I mean, I don’t really know. This is the first one I’ve been to.” “Well, if you’re lucky it’ll be your last.” She smiled for the first time all night. “So, where would you rather be Dana Scully?” “Um...ANYWHERE.” He laughed. He had a nice laugh. Why did he have to have such a nice everything? Dana wasn’t used to feeling so charmed so fast. “Seriously though, is there something else you’d rather be doing?” There were so many things. She didn’t even know where to start. “I’d rather be home. I’d rather be curled up under a comforter with a good book. I’d rather be at the beach or the park watching the fireworks. Actually I’d love to be on a boat somewhere, watching the fireworks over the water.” She stopped, suddenly realizing what a boring dork she probably sounded like. She tried to think of something more exciting to say but before she could he smiled sweetly at her and held out his arm. “Well, I don’t have a boat but I’ve got a car. I can take you to the park and we can watch the fireworks. Or I can just take you home if you’d like.” She regarded him skeptically for a moment. She should know better than to take a ride from a strange man. Especially after what had just happened. But somehow, somewhere along the line she had started to trust Fox Mulder. She didn’t know why but it was a very strong feeling. He may be presumptuous and irritating but he wasn’t going to hurt her. She just knew it. Besides, she couldn’t really think of another way out of this besides walking the whole way home. An even more dangerous option. Still though, it didn’t seem like the greatest idea. “I’d like to go home I think. But um, I can probably find another way. Thanks though.” “Another way? Like what?” She glared at him. “Sorry, none of my business again. I just don’t want you to be stuck. I’m a Jewish mother. I worry.” He was adorable. And he was starting to crumble the last of her resolve. “How about this, how about I let you drive my car home. That way you’ll be sure I’m taking you home and not to some deserted alley or something.” He held out a set of keys to her. “And if I start acting like a jerk, you can drive us right to the police station. How’s that?” That did seem okay. “Well, all right.” His face lit up like a Christmas tree. Just for letting him drive her home. Why did he care so much? He better not be thinking he was in for more than the pleasure of her company. Although, the thought that he might want more sent an inexplicable tremor through her body. He led her to his car and she wasn’t entirely surprised to see that it was a nice new shiny one. Probably cost a fortune. Spoiled little rich boy. She began running him down in her head again, trying her damnedest to get rid of that stupid tremor. She got behind the wheel and found that she had to move the seat about a foot forward to reach the peddles. She caught him smirking and gave him an icy glare. “I should warn you that I just got my license.” He looked a little afraid but mostly amused. “Well Dana Scully, this should be quite an adventure then.” end part 1