When Mulder finally caught up to her, Scully was already in the
underground lab, hands splayed out from her body as if she were trying to
still the Earth's rotation. He understood why she'd want to. Everything
around her was broken and shattered; test tubes, beakers, canisters of every
size and color. The fumes alone were enough to tell him that some
expensive and dangerous chemicals were mixing on the floor. The stench
made him gag.
"Dr. Scully." Chea motioned for her to follow him into a connected
room.
She carefully stepped over the debris and mentioned to Mulder as if
it were the most normal thing in the world, "You see that brilliant yellow
liquid?"
"The stuff that looks like a milk shake gone bad?"
"Right. It'll eat your skin right off the bone. Don't touch it."
The chamber that was connected to the lab was smaller. It contained
several rolling cots, and Mulder could only assume that it was used as
some sort of morgue.
Scully was beside herself. "My god...they took the bodies!" Her
jaw set and her eyes flared, and she kicked a broken drawer of surgical
instruments that lay dumped and discarded at her feet. "Why the hell
would someone steal a frozen body?"
"They don't want you to perform the autopsy." Chea's thin eyes
surveyed the damage.
"But we got permission from what's left of the families..."
Chea dropped his chin to his chest. "You don't understand. The people
who gave you permission did so because they are afraid that they will be
next."
That made a lot of sense to Mulder. "Well, if the mist's track record
is
anything to go by, I'd say they have a pretty good reason to be afraid."
"But they are the outcasts," Chea explained. "When their families
were first touched by the God, it was believed that she was punishing them
for specific wrongs that they had committed."
Scully finished the thought for him. "And as more people ended up
dead, the blame shifted to the whole family."
"Precisely. Those connected to the previous victims were marked
and cast out."
Mulder rubbed at his temple; it was starting to throb. "Marked and
cast out. What does that mean?"
Chea looked from Mulder to Scully, and then back again. "You don't
know about the markings?" His long finger traced the light crescent that
scared his face from the center of his cheek all the way back to his ear.
"When wrongs are committed, the person is marked and then they're
excluded from community decisions, religious gatherings-"
"But you..." Scully was hesitant. "You were in charge of the search
this morning."
"It's possible for a person to overcome their past. No easy, but
possible... You're wondering what I did." He smiled lightly. "I can see it
in your eyes, Dr. Scully. What must I have done to have them disfigure
me?" She didn't reply, but instead, lowered her eyes to the clutter at her
feet. "My father raped my mother. That is how I was conceived. When I
was born, I was marked an outcast, being my father's son."
"But you didn't do anything - you can't help being born!"
"In Erlona, we are all responsible for the people around us.
Punishments are passed on for wrongs committed by immediate family."
Mulder turned to Scully. "Did the bodies of the two men that were
found this morning have the facial scar-"
"No." Chea answered for her. "They were marked above the heart.
Each wrong is considered unique. There are no set rules for punishments."
He saw Scully's face darken considerably. "I know this all seems barbaric
to you, but it works remarkably well. Crime in Erlona is almost unheard
of."
Mulder scoffed. "I can imagine. I'd think twice about speeding,
too, if I knew it was going to get my family cut up."
"But," Scully protested, "that doesn't do much for the innocent
people who live their lives by the rules, and still have to pay for what
someone else has done."
Chea shrugged. "It's an imperfect system for a imperfect society.
But we have managed to survive in this world for more than fifty
generations. For a people with no government to protect them, that's quite
a feat."
"Oh!" From the other room the hoarse cry of Dr. Juuj broke their
conversation. "Everything...everything..they've destroyed everything!"
They found him kneeling over a large jumble of broken glass.
Scully stood still as the old man started to pick op the larger shards. He
looked up to her. There was a brief moment when Mulder thought the
doctor might burst into tears, but instead he threw the bits of glass across
the room and closed his eyes against the less than satisfying crash.
Scully whispered, "I'm going to get some sleep. Tomorrow we''ll
regroup and see what can be salvaged."
"Tomorrow," Juuj nodded.
And then Scully wandered out of the lab, as if she had the weight of
the island on her shoulders.
"Hey, Scully! Wait up." She stopped when Mulder called to her,
but didn't turn. "Dana? You okay?" She sure as hell didn't look okay. Her
face was long and grey, and she had the same forlorn look that she'd worn
that night she'd gotten drunk on The Lady. Mulder fought the urge to look
away from her.
"I'm fine -" she began with a sigh and then caught herself. Her eyes
studied Mulder's before turning out towards the dull roar of the surf. "I'm
tired. And angry. And frustrated as hell." She started down the path
again. "Is that what you wanted to know?"
"Yes." Wasn't it? //So now what do I do?// Mulder eyed the
woman beside him. What did she want from him? She'd chosen not to
evade him for a reason. What did she need? "Scully," he
placed a palm under her elbow lightly and pulled her with him. "Let's go
down to the beach."
Her eyes closed in a wince, but she let him guide her. "Mulder, I'm
too tired for a night time stroll."
"Then not a stroll. We'll sit in the sand."
"I'd rather lay in a bed." The image of her spreading herself
seductively over the grey and blue bed on The Lady blasted a hole through
his train of thought. He had to clear his throat to regroup.
"Well, we can do that too." //Unless I explode first.// "But as
wound up as you are, do you really think you'll be able to sleep right now?"
She considered his point. "No."
They turned onto the narrow path that led to the ocean.
The night was bright again, but the breeze was swifter and cooler
than it had been before. It felt good combined with the heat that'd refused
to taper off when the sun had finally set. Cleansing. Mulder led the way
near to the tide line, settling them in the dry sand. They sat side by side,
knees bent, leaning back on locked arms. The night was perfect.
"I talked to Megan and Kyle about staying. It won't be a problem."
She gave him the smallest of smiles and then looked back out over
the darkened surf. "Thank you."
Mulder sat forward and picked at the sand between his feet. "I'm
not sure I'm doing you any favors, Scully. You're not looking so great."
He wasn't sure if she was going to hit him or not, but he could tell she was
contemplating it. "Your shoulders are up to your ears."
She tried to shrug him off. "My masseuse is out of town."
"Come here." He took hold of her wrist and tugged her towards
him.
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What?"
"I'm going to give you a back rub."
There was an awkward moment when she stared at him as if he had
hair coming out of his nose. Did he? Mulder's fingers ran over his face.
"What?" he asked defensively. Why was she looking at him like that?
"What are you thinking?"
"That I've got something on my face and you're refusing to tell me
about it."
"No," she admonished with a laugh. "Before. When you pulled my
arm. What were you thinking?"
"Uh..." The question wasn't what was he thinking (which was
probably about sex, whatever it was. What else had he been thinking about
since they'd started their vacation?); but rather, the question was why was
she asking? What did *she* think he was thinking? Or even more
importantly, what did she *want* him to be thinking about? Mulder had a
distinct feeling he'd fallen into a no win situation. No matter what he was
going to say, it was going to be wrong.
Maybe he should just be honest and shock the pants off of her. Tell
her that he'd been thinking of her naked and in hot mud up to her neck.
Well, even if it wasn't completely honest, it would still shock the pants off
of her. Since he was going to lose, why not go down with a bang, right?
"I can't remember." //Coward.// "It's gone."
"Oh." She pulled away from him, but managed to keep it
unoffensive. "I thought you were coming on to me, for a minute there. It
felt like high school all over again." She sounded almost sheepish
admitting it.
Another confession out of Scully. In less than an hour. Mulder
couldn't help but wonder what was going on with her. Where was the cork
that she used to keep those things bottled up? Where was her shield? Her
wall? "I wasn't coming on to you, Scully." He held his breath and took the
plunge. "But what if I was?"
She looked at him honestly. "What if you were?" Her lips thinned
as she thought about it. "If you were coming on to me, Mulder, for real?
Not joking around? Like that?" She shivered a little and glanced back out
at the water. "It would be weird."
//Ouch.// Hard blow to the ego, twelve o'clock.
"It would be like something Eddie Van Blundht would do. Trying to
catch me off guard."
//Ouch.// Blow number two.
"God, that was weird. There you were - he was -" she corrected
without missing a beat, "on my couch leaning in to kiss me and all I kept
thinking was 'Mulder got me drunk to get me into bed.'" She snorted at the
thought.
"It looked like it was working." //How bitter did that sound?//
"Maybe," she sighed.
Mulder's heart sagged in his chest. Visions of him sitting on a rock
weeping were floating before his eyes. Why had he suggested the beach,
again? //Mental note: avoid beaches.//
"But," she ventured a quick glance at him, "it was weird. We've
known each other for so long...it just seemed too cheap. Dishonest. Like
I'd been set up. You know? Drunken groping on the couch..."
Mulder closed his eyes, willing away the new images she was
planting in his head.
"Clouded sex on the floor..."
//Sweet Jesus.// "On the floor?"
"An unexpected baby with a tail..."
Mulder grimaced. //Now she's just being mean.//
"Only there would be no baby." When her face turned to his,
highlighted by the soft blue glow reflected from the water, Mulder knew
she knew. She knew. "No baby at all." She knew. "Right, Mulder?"
He didn't answer; didn't move a muscle. He just sat there waiting
for the final, fatal blow.
"I waited for you to tell me." She hugged the back of her thighs. "I
expected you to tell me. But you never said a word."
"Scully..."
His mouth opened and shut several times before she asked, "What?"
What could he say? 'Oh, so sorry you're sterile, Scully, but good
news, I've found your ova, so even if you don't live long enough to
actually know them, you can still have children'? What did she *want* him
to say? "How...how did you find out?"
"Frohike. I would rather you had told me." She pulled on a frayed
thread on the hem of her skirt. "I know you don't picture me as a mother,
Mulder, but I do want children."
"So do I." Mulder didn't know who was more surprised to hear
him say that, Scully or himself. From the look on her face, Mulder decided
it had to be her. "What? You don't see me as a father?"
"No...no, you'd make a great dad. I've seen you with kids."
"Then why the look?"
"I don't know. I guess I just never expected to hear you *say* it."
She bit her lip and considered him. "How many kids?"
"Uh..."
Half a laugh bubbled out of her in sheer amazement. "I can't
believe I didn't know this about you. Sometimes I feel like I know you
inside and out, like I've crawled under your skin and I can't rip myself free
again. And then sometimes..." She dug her heel into the fine white sand.
"Like now, I feel like I never really knew you at all."
"Just Agent Mulder, and not Fox, huh?"
"I'm not allowed to call you Fox."
"Do you want to call me Fox?"
"It's a part of who you are. The part of you that you hide from
me."
"You didn't answer my question."
"Yes. I did."
Mulder watched her as she laid back in the sand and stretched out.
She knew he was looking at her. //What is she thinking?//
She just stared up at the sky and sighed. "I wonder what Eddie's doing
right now."
Mulder was lying on his back, staring up at the wooden planked
ceiling of the bungalow. It had been over two hours since Scully had fallen
asleep on the beach and he'd walked her back, still half-dozing, and tucked
her into bed.
She was on his left, curled up on her side, making noises that
Mulder had first taken for a nightmare. Little grunts and gasps that
gradually turned into moans. Deep, guttural moans.
"...Mulder..."
And she kept saying his name. Sighing his name. Begging his
name for more.
//That's not like any nightmare that I've ever known,// he thought
with a cocky grin.
In the beginning it had been amusing to know that she had sexual
fantasies about him. His ego inflated. And it made him feel good to know
that he wasn't the only frustrated person on the island. Misery loves
company, and all that.
But when she started rubbing her thighs together, his own libido
woke up.
Mulder forced himself out of the bed under the pretense of getting
some water from the bathroom - for the second time. It was wrong, he
knew, to lay beside the object of so many of his own dream encounters
while she was having one herself. Especially when she was his partner. It
violated her privacy.
//She'd die if she knew that I know.//
And yet, he found himself fascinated. Mesmerized. Like watching two
people kissing in a park: social courtesy demands that you ignore them and
give them privacy, and still you look.
Her hand crawled over her belly, and all of the moisture in Mulder's
throat dried up. //Mercy.// She was beautiful under the sheet, slowly
moving in a sleep-restrained imitation to the scene she was living in her
mind. Her lips parted wetly and her mouth opened. Her eyes fluttered
under closed lids. And without consciously intending to do so, Mulder
found himself back in the bed next to her - though still careful not to
actually touch her - staring up at the ceiling. Again.
In a fit of frustration, Mulder wrestled with the quandary that must've
plagued working partners ever since the women's lib movement had taken
off. Before even. Sex? Or no sex?
He crossed his arms and legs tightly and tried to ignore the gentle
sucking sounds coming from his partner. A task much harder in the doing
when his whole heart wasn't really into it.
And really, why should he? What was to stop them, anyway? If
the attraction was mutual? If he wanted her and she wanted him, then
where was the problem? Yes, it would change their partnership, but there
was no rule that said partners couldn't fraternize; just the teachers and
students in Quantico. After that, everyone was fair game.
//The work.// The work couldn't suffer. But knowing Scully's
professional drive, not to mention his own obsessive momentum, that didn't
seem to be a likely problem. And really, agents marrying agents wasn't an
uncommon practice; they both understood the insane hours and the
importance of dedication to the work. And while partners marrying
partners wasn't an every day occurrence, it had been known to happen. If
the couple was strong and could survive the strain and burn out.
//Marriage?! Where the hell did that come from?// He was talking
about sex, wasn't he? Reasoning why he shouldn't - or possibly should -
consider a sexual relationship with his all-work-and-no-play partner. His
beautiful, intelligent, brave, professional partner. Who was breathing a
little harder than Mulder's piece of mind would've liked.
//But,// he reasoned with himself, //if it's just about sex, then
shouldn't
we just ignore the attraction?// There was nothing better to destroy a
partnership than casual sex. And the thought of losing Scully to, well,
anything made his insides tense. A part of him remembered the advice he'd
given to himself on The Lady: Don't risk it. There was so much more to
lose with her than with any other woman. Maybe it would just be easier to
actually go out and get a life. Or safer. Even if not completely
satisfying.
And then the other side of him turned over and considered, //Well,
what if it's more than just casual sex?//
And in her sleep Scully rolled restlessly towards him and let out a
deep sigh.
Who the hell was he kidding? He wanted to fuck her. God, he
wanted so badly to wrap her smooth legs around his hips and suck on her
neck and pound into her until he lost himself inside. He wanted to make
love to her slowly and watch her come over and over again beneath him,
around him. He wanted to hold her and protect her, and to lie in her arms
and have her stroke his hair and kiss his eyes asleep.
//Whoa, Boy.// Mulder squeezed his mouth shut, grinding his teeth. //If
you're not careful, Fox Mulder, you're going to end up in love with your
partner.// And that would be bad, right? Wasn't that what he'd decided on
the beach a few nights before? Hadn't he thanked God that he hadn't fallen
in love with her?
"...Muuuulderrrr..."
Her voice stood the hair on the back of his neck on edge. And
woke up the monster between his legs. //Great.// She sighed again and his
groin tightened even further. He looked down and shook his head. Life
was just too complicated to be fair.
Mulder jerked awake. Scully over him, holding a blanket and wearing a
tired look of annoyance. She draped it over him and turned briskly. "Are
you going to try and tell me it was seasickness, again?"
Mulder just blinked. It took him a moment to figure out why he
was lying on the reclining chaise lounge outside on the balcony instead of
inside in the comfortable bed. The morning had a slight chill to it, and it
helped clear the sleep from his brain.
//Oh, yeah.// He begrudgingly remembered that after his third little
jaunt
to the bathroom to take care of his uncomfortable condition, Mulder had
opted for the patio furniture, rather than tempt fate. After all, Scully
hadn't
been passed out drunk, she probably would've notice him rolling on top of
her in his sleep. And since sex was all he could think about (passionate,
heart-stopping sex), it didn't seem likely he'd be dreaming about anything
with less than a parental warning sign attached.
"For crying out loud, Mulder, it's not like you *had* to share a bed
with me." She snapped the lid back on her skin lotion and tossed the bottle
in the general direction of her bag. It landed short by several feet.
"Hell,
YOU checked us into this place. You could've gotten your own room."
She fumed for several seconds before she looked at him. Something new
had just occurred to her. "Or maybe you want me to get MY own room.
Is that it?"
Mulder blinked again. //What the hell?// All he'd done was try to save
them both some embarrassment while he could figure out the whole 'to do
it or not to do it' question. Why was she yelling at him?
Scully continued her tirade as she savagely worked the lotion into
her knees and calves. "And I believed you, too. 'Oh Scully. I'm so
seasick.'" Her eyes shot back to him like brilliant blue spears. "You were
just trying to get away from me! Weren't you?"
Mulder's brow creased. //Is this a good time to mention the sucking
sounds?//
"In the cockpit..." her voice wavered momentarily as all the blood
drained from her long face. "I thought you wanted to...when we were
sitting together I thought that finally, maybe...but you didn't want to be in
the same room as me." Her lower lip tensed and she snatched her shoes up
from the end of the bed. "Well, you don't have to worry about THAT any
more." The sandals slipped easily over her feet.
//It may just be me, but I think we're fighting.// Mulder winced.
//Not again.//
"And for your information, Fox Mulder -"
//Yep. Full name. We're fighting.//
She raised herself to her full height and declared: "There are plenty of
men in this world who would jump at the chance to share a bed with me!"
And with that, she stormed out the door.
Mulder laid back on the chaise and pulled the blanket up over his head.
//Well, at least it's over faster when only one of us is doing the
screaming.//
The barn stood empty and open in the late morning sun. Most of
the horses, it seemed, had been put out in the small fenced-in pasture for
the day. There was no one about, so Mulder took the opportunity to do a
little snooping around in hopes of finding something that might help explain
what was going on. The evidence that they'd been able to collect just didn't
seem to add up.
The stall that they'd found Taam in had, of course, already been
mucked out. It would have been too much to ask for an untouched crime
scene the way his week had been going. He'd half expected the barn to
have been burnt down all together.
A fresh layer of hay lined the dirt floor, and the grain troth
had been scrubbed clean. Once again, Mulder remarked to himself that
even though the people of Erlona didn't have much, they took good care of
what little they did have.
Nothing was odd or out of place anywhere in the barn; even the
lock on the outside half-door was completely thawed and free moving.
//Now would be a good time for a convenient 'She is me' sign
scrawled in blood.// Where were the paranormal clues when he needed
them?
Frustrated, Mulder headed back towards the market place.
Megan waved him down from across the street with her perfect
teeth shining in her wide smile. "Dude! What do you think?" She
held a brightly colored white and yellow sundress against herself in one
hand, and a lit cigarette in the other. "Is it me, or what?"
"It's nice." He was not in the mood to shop. "Do you know where
the school is? I want to talk to Chea."
She admired the dress as she held it to her. "You're right. It's
rocking'!
I've got to get it." She turned back to the squarish woman vendor and
nodded enthusiastically, her short hair flying in every direction at once.
Just then, angry shouts broke the picture perfect village market
tableau,
and a herd of people came barreling around the corner. The scene looked
like a lynch mob on the hunt. Only they already had their prey.
Scully was roughly pushed towards the front of the crowd, her hands
bound by coarse ropes, and her face, hands, and knees bloodied. She
stumbled from a rough shove, but was caught before she could hit the
ground. She was pushed forward again.
Incensed, Mulder didn't think, he reacted. "Scully!" he screamed and
ran to her, with the full intention of freeing her from the ties and rescuing
her from the swarming mob.
Her head instantly snapped to him when he broke into a run. Her
expression was wild and imploring. The previous anger and humiliation
that had been there when he woke was gone. In their place, she wore
fright and grief covered with a cool layer of control.
Four lean men broke from the mob and intercepted Mulder before
he had a chance to reach his partner. They grabbed his wrists, too; binding
them in the same way Scully's were tied, before pushing him back and away
from her. He fought them every step of the way. Briefly the image of
Gulliver being overcome by the Lilliputians came to mind as one of the
men kicked his legs out from under him, and Mulder hit the ground hard.
He caught sight of a familiar face barreling towards him from a side
road. The man wore a look of absolute horror.
"Chea! Chea, help us! What the hell is going on?!" It was a wonder
that the man was able to hear anything above the riotous roar of the
massing crowd, but he seemed to understand Mulder's need for a translator
and stopped to ask a bystander. Mulder tried to twist himself around so he
could see Scully, but a forest of dark and dusty legs blocked his view.
//If they've hurt her, I swear to God, I'll kill every last one of
them.//
She was bleeding again, that's all he knew. It was enough to make him
sick.
Beside him, he felt Chea's calming presence as the man knelt close
enough to yell into his ear. "They say she's a murderer. That Dr. Juuj is
dead."
Mulder ignored the teacher's eyes imploring eyes, and shook his head.
"No..."
Chea pulled a red cloth from his pocket and nodded as he wiped his
nose. "I'll find out the details. I will try to help-."
Mulder cut in. "Where are they taking her? She's bleeding!" The news
seemed to alarm the usually tepid man. "She has a medical condition,
Chea. She's very sick."
The man seemed to understand. He placed a firm hand on Mulder's
shoulder, then stood quickly and started off in the direction of the
retreating mob. Without warning, Mulder was yanked to his feet
and pushed down the road as well.
In the a fenced off square, near the pier, Mulder caught sight of
Scully again. Chea had one hand on her shoulder, the other on her face,
and he was asking something that she was simply shaking her head to in
response. Mulder knew from experience that she was telling him she was
fine. 'Oh, yeah. I've been dragged through town by an angry mob while
covered in my own blood. But I'm fine.' Sometimes Mulder just wanted to
smack her. Of course, she'd smack him right back and then he'd have a
bruise for a week.
Mulder was pushed through the gathering crowd and ended up by her
side at the base of a thick wooden pole. The angry people writhed around
them, creating a frenzy of sound and movement. But at last he was close
enough to actually talk to her.
"Scully, did they hurt-"
"No. I'm fine." Her eyes lowered to the area just below his knees;
her face was like stone. "Dr. Juuj is dead."
Had she been anyone else, Mulder was positive that she'd be in the
middle of a crying fit by that point. But Agent Scully was able to hold it
together. A truly amazing woman. "I know," he said solemnly.
She glanced briefly at her soiled hands and then away at nothing at
all. "I tried to resuscitate him, but I'm pretty sure the knife went through
his left ventricle." A child of about twelve, a rope tied around his waist,
began to climb the pole beside them. The people cheered him on. Scully
took no notice at all. "I watched him die, Mulder."
He winced at her pain. There wasn't much he could say. "I'm
sorry."
When the boy reached the top, he laced the rope through a large
metal loop and slid down again. Scully was pushed to the other side of the
pole, and it quickly became obvious that both she and Mulder were going
to be tied to the main rope that hung from the top.
With sudden aggression, Scully came out of her daze. "No! NO!
Not Mulder!" She searched the crowd madly, continuing to shout at the
top of her lungs. "Chea! Chea, tell them! Mulder and I aren't family!
They can't do this to him. Chea!"
From behind Mulder, where he'd backed away to minutes before, the
man answered. "Dr. Scully, my apologies." He had to raise his voice to be
heard. "They know that the two of you are a couple." Chea came back to
their side. He seemed genuinely distressed.
A yank on the intricately knotted rope above Scully's fists pulled her
up
on tip toe. Her face twisted as her bindings were tightened. She turned to
Chea with a look much like the one Mulder had seen many times before;
the haunted sadness that made him want to curl up into a ball and cry. "I'm
so sorry. I tried..."
Mulder's wrists burned from the pinching of the ropes and the angle
they were forced into above his head. He bit back a scream of pain and
ended up moaning instead. Again, Scully began her protest.
"Chea, it's not true. Mulder and I are NOT a couple. They can't do
this to him! We're partners - we work together. Your law extends to
immediate family, you said. They can't touch him!"
Chea gave a sideways glance at Mulder, who felt like a duck in a
Chinese meat store. "You share a bed," Chea said, trying to be delicate.
"Here, that is considered an out-of-God marriage. It's not discussed, but it
is considered a true binding-"
"No!" She didn't wait for him to finish. She shook her head
fiercely. "We're not lovers, Chea. We work together, that's all. We're not
a couple." She pulled hard against the tight ropes that refused to give.
For a second, both she and the marked man beside her watched Mulder for
some sort of sign; a validation of what she was saying.
He couldn't give it. The tension in his throat and chest mounted. He
knew she was trying to save him, but the single determination in her eye
sliced through him. //Tell him we're friends, at least. Do that for me,
Scully. You don't have to love me or sleep with me or any of the hundred
crazy things I've been thinking. I can take friendship, if that's all there
is.
But, Scully, friendship at least.//
A minute passed before her gaze became harsh, and with a firm
voice she finished: "Chea. Let Mulder go. We're partners. Nothing
more."
Mulder heart splintered into a hundred thousand pieces.
The next few minutes were a blur to Mulder; playing out in slow
motion, but too fast for him to actually react. He knew they'd cut his hands
free by the slack as his arms fell into a swing from his shoulders. And
he knew that the teacher beside him was talking to the villagers in a
careful,
authoritative tone. And he knew that he was pushed away from the pole,
back past the quieted hordes of small people surrounding it, back past the
calf-high iron-link fence that lined the grassy square's center.
But all he could actually see was Scully's intense eyes burning into
his own. And the silent tears that tracked their way down her dusty
cheeks.
End of 9/17
"Mulder! Mulder, are you all right?" Megan knelt beside
him, where he had been thrown half-sitting against a mercantile hut. The
sun beat down heavily on him, suffocating him slowly.
"Scully..."
She was mostly hanging from her tied wrists, which were bound to a
rope that was attached to the top of the 10 foot pole. The tips of her
sandals scraped into the dusty ground as she tried to gain better footing.
Her white tee-shirt stained red and dirt-covered, rode up on her belly, and
the blue shorts didn't cover enough of her legs to protect her from the glare
of the sun. She was going to burn.
Mulder forced himself up and pushed Megan out of the way. He
could hear her calling to him, but her actual words didn't register. His
mind
closed down around two thoughts as he ran to Scully. He had to help her.
He had to free her.
Two of the male villagers, armed with flat pieces of board, stepped in
front of him and effectively blocked his path. "No," yelled the one on
Mulder's left, and he pointed with a calloused finger to the fence. Mulder
pushed him out of his way.
WHACK!
The sensation of pain didn't register until after Mulder heard the smack
of the board against his lower back. The shock hit him hard and he toppled
face first to the ground, his arms flailing ineffectually out at his sides
for
balance. Pin pricks of water stung his eyes. Again, he heard Megan
screaming. In front of him, Scully twisted like a shirt on a clothes line.
With a newfound strength, Mulder managed to pull himself up onto
all fours and take a crawling step towards his partner. He was slammed
hard and low against his back, and went down for a second time. He could
hear Scully's screams echoing inside his whirling head.
She begged, "Please don't hurt him," and called to Kyle for help.
The sound of her voice spurred him on. He had to help her... He had to
free her...
Seconds later, as Mulder tried to push himself up from the ground, two
thick hands clasped tightly over his upper arms and dragged Mulder to his
feet. He could see his captured partner twisting against her ties, trying to
turn and see what was happening. Her valiant effort only succeeded in
losing the little footing that she had, and she slipped head first into the
side
of the pole. She whimpered in pain.
Mulder tried to reach her again. "Scully!"
But the hands didn't relent. "Mulder." Kyle's bass voice cut through
the
shrill cries that swam around him: Megan's, the guards', Scully's... Scully!
"Mulder, listen to me. You have to stop this."
"Scully!"
"Mulder, they're going to hurt her if you don't. Stop now. Mulder,
look!" Kyle grabbed the side of his face and forced him to focus on the
man poised just behind Scully. A man who was watching Mulder with a
ragged breath, ready to pummel his partner if he took so much as a step
towards her again. "Don't do this, Mulder. It's not helping her."
The other villager came menacingly close to them, screaming
nonsensical words and pointing to the fence. His intention was clear.
Slowly, step by step, Kyle led Mulder back and out of the square. The
guards relaxed their boards a little, and Scully rested her forehead heavily
against the wooden pole. She was sweating heavily and panting.
"She can't stay there like that." Mulder was pleading with Kyle,
without taking his eyes off of her. "I have to help her."
Megan came around in front of Mulder. "Chea's gone to try and
help. He said someone named Vola would convince them to let her go.
He promised he'd hurry-"
There wasn't time for diplomacy. "SHE'S TIED TO A FUCKING
POLE! She's bleeding!" Mulder's panic was rising again. "Can't you see?
SHE'S SICK!"
"Mulder, I don't think that's her blood." Megan glanced nervously
behind her. "That's the problem. I think it's Juuj's."
Chea came running back, an old withered, white-haired woman
waddling behind him. The hag favored her left hip and stamped a knobby
cane into the ground with each step as if it were on fire.
"Bastolon!" Chea cried and the men guarding Scully jumped
immediately into a defensive stance. "Bastolon! Cazimaan'dir se meen
Vola! Bastolon!"
As soon as the tiny woman reached the fence, she raised her staff
and shrieked, "Bastolon!" A freak wind whipped through her robes,
lifting the bright reds and yellows like billowing sails; but not even a
hint of that breeze touched Mulder's sweat-soaked skin.
Her one word had more effect than anything the rest of them had been
able to do. The guards dropped the boards they'd held like bats and began
backing away slowly, bowing in reverence. Or fear. Mulder couldn't
tell which. And he didn't much care. All that mattered to him was that the
path to Scully was free. He lurched towards her, intending to run gallantly
to her side, but ended up on the ground again with only a mouth full of
dirt.
His back had given out completely. Not that that was going to stop him.
He pulled himself up on his elbows and tried to claw his way to her.
"Scully!"
Megan stepped in front of him and tried to help him to his feet.
"Mulder, for crying out loud! Would you give the raging hero bit a rest!
Kyle's getting her down. Now help me get you on your feet so I don't have
to drag you to the boat."
From within the folds of her robes, the twisted woman pulled a short
dagger and pressed it ceremoniously to her lips before handing it to Chea.
He took it from her as if it were alive, and unsheathed the blade. The metal
gleamed almost blue it was so black, and it sliced the rope above Scully's
hands in one clean stroke.
She crumbled straight down and Kyle was able to catch her just
before she hit the ground. Mulder was relieved to see her eyes open and
her lips saying something, but he was too far away to hear. With an arm
around her waist and another scooping her legs up, Kyle lifted her from the
ground and turned towards the bungalows.
"The Lady!" Megan insisted before she'd even gotten Mulder off of
his knees. "Kyle, let's get the hell out of here!"
"Good idea." He made an about face and headed to the pier.
"Bastolon!" screeched the strange woman in a tone that, had it
been three octaves lower, would have been lethal. She lifted her walking
stick and waved it in the directed of the boats, chanting.
"I'm sorry," Chea announced with a shake in his voice. "But I'm afraid
you can't leave us yet."
"Like hell we can't." Megan pulled Mulder up mercilessly, forcing him
to his feet. Most of his weight draped heavily over her shoulder. "Chea,
we appreciate you helping us get Dana down from the gallows, but I for
one am sick of this creepy little island. You can keep your mist and your
gods and your anarchy. We're outta here!"
"No." He glanced nervously at the hag next to him. Her chanting had
stopped and she stood silently, watching them all through pitch black eyes.
"It is Vola who does not wish you to leave."
"Really," Mulder muttered aloud, "how flattering. And we've only just
met."
"I'm afraid she has put an incantation on your ship. You cannot leave."
Beside him, Mulder felt Megan tense. "The Lady," she gasped in reflex.
"What do you mean?" With a controlled slowness she spit out: "What has
she done to The Lady?"
Almost guilty, Chea lowered his eyes. "Just that. As before. Your
arrival here was not an accident. Vola made sure you would need to
dock."
Megan's head jerked to Kyle and before Mulder could grip her tightly
enough, she shrugged out from underneath him and bolted for the pier.
His support gone, Mulder hit the ground. Luckily his shoulder was there
to break his fall. He howled as the hot pain flared all the way down his
arm, and gritted the fine sand between his teeth. //I'm going to kill that
woman if I live.//
Kyle's agitating hop from one foot to another caught his attention. He
looked like he didn't know what to do: follow Megan or take Scully back
to the bungalow and out of the sun. If it was possible, he would've gone in
both directions at once.
"Kyle," Mulder warned, afraid Scully would lose out and be dumped in
the dirt like he'd been.
Quickly he turned, heading for the bungalow, and swearing.
"Damn it! Meggie! Always running off, getting into trouble..."
Mulder lost sight of him as Chea knelt in his view. "I am truly sorry
about everything that has happened."
"Yeah," Mulder closed his eyes and tried to think cool. The sun was
beating directly on him and it was eating through his eyelids, adding pain
on top of pain on top of pain... "Me too."
"Will you allow me to help you," he asked, wary of Mulder's response.
But Mulder wasn't in any position to refuse help.
When Chea finally got Mulder to the bungalow, Scully was lying on
the bed, holding an empty glass against her flush cheek. Her eyes were
closed. She was bathed in sweat and brown, caking blood.
//Not her blood.//
Kyle rushed out from the bathroom with several wet towels before
Mulder could even make it to the other side of the bed. He pressed one to
her forehead and grabbed the glass from her hand. "More water?" He
didn't wait for a reply.
As Mulder, with Kyle's help, lowered himself onto the mattress, a whole
new set of pains ricocheted up and down his spine. His back itself didn't
hurt - there was no feeling there at all. But he could feel his pulse in the
agony that radiated out from his back. His legs, arms and neck felt like
they were going to leap off of his torso of their own accord. "AHHH!" He
knew his face gave away the pain that coursed through him, so there was
no attempt to play it cool. "Slowly!" he begged through gritted teeth, even
though the speed had little effect on the actual level of the pain.
"Mulder?" Scully's voice broke around his name. She sounded
tired and dry and like she'd been screaming.
Mulder lied through his teeth. "I'm okay, Scully." He didn't want
her to worry; after all, she wasn't in the greatest shape herself. Well,
that
and the fact that he was embarrassed that he'd lost it so badly out there.
And he was mortified with himself for being within second of having her
beaten as well. If Kyle hadn't been there to stop him...
The man in question returned with a full glass of water, and Mulder
could hear his partner gulping it down. Until his pelvis actually touched
the bed, that is, and he shrieked like a cat in heat.
"Mulder!" Her voice was muffled by the raging pain. The world
dipped to the right and for a second, Mulder thought he was going to pass
out. He had no such luck. He felt his sweat-drenched shirt lifted from his
back and heard the gasps all around.
Kyle mumbled a small, "Holy flaming cow..."
"Chea." Scully's voice was sharp, even as it rasped, "Help him onto
the bed. On his stomach. Kyle, the pills in my bag over there."
The bed came into view, with a pink Scully kneeling anxiously on
top. "You look like hell, Scully."
"You haven't seen your back, yet," she stated dryly. "Tomorrow
you're going to think I was a beauty queen."
Chea was careful to lower him slowly to the mattress, and Scully
took the opportunity to unbuckle Mulder's belt and unbutton his shorts.
"Really, Scully, I have a head ache-"
"Shut up," she snapped. "You've done some real damage, Mulder."
He took that as his cue to cut the witty banter. //Fine. I wasn't up
to being charming, anyway.// When his face hit the bed, his shorts were
slipped down to his ankles. And to his humiliation, his briefs followed
suit.
"Uh, Scully-"
"Oh, Mulder." He could hear the tears in her voice. "Kyle, give him
two of the pills."
There was a brief clink of plastic. "There's only two left."
A sigh from his partner, and then. "Give them to him."
"No, Scully. I won't take your last two pain pills-"
"That's my decision to make, Mulder."
"Like hell it is."
"As your doctor, Mulder, I'm ordering you..." Her voice tapered
off and he twisted against the agony to catch a glimpse of her out of the
corner of his eye. She was bracing herself with her arms, her head hung
low on her shoulders, her face twisting in a pain of her own.
"Kyle," Mulder insisted, "give *her* the pills!"
"No." There was almost no force in her tone. "They're Mulder's..."
"You two really DO belong together!" Kyle's exasperation burst
and he slammed the glass down on the nightstand. "You can deny it and lie
to yourselves all you want, insist that you're just friends until you're blue
in
the face, and seeing as how stubborn the two of you are, you probably will.
But it makes me crazy to see two people so obviously in love stand behind
bravado and duty and pretense rather than just admit the truth. I could
care less which one of you takes the damn pills. I've had it. I'm going to
find my wife, and you two can just lay there and suffer." He stormed out,
slamming the door behind him.
Mulder felt the reverberation in minute detail as it tingled its way
through his limbs. Scully slowly crawled beside him and lay quietly, her
eyes still forced shut.
"You're going to wish you'd taken those pills when you wake up,"
she whispered. "You'll be stiff and aching for weeks, probably."
The door opened and shut again, and Mulder's mind registered that
it was probably Chea leaving the room discreetly. "Why won't you take
them, Scully? They're meant for you."
"Because I'm dizzy and nauseous from the heat. They'll make me
feel worse."
He knew she was lying close to him; he could feel the heat
radiating from her, and smell the salty sweat that was drying on her face.
He could even feel the slight rock of the mattress as she breathed, she was
so close. He ventured to open his eyes a fraction, and saw her wet eyes
studying him critically, not three inches from his face.
"Mulder." There was no voice in her whisper, but it wavered
anyhow. "Today...today I..." She blinked slowly, and a tear ran over the
bridge of her nose and pooled in the other eye.
One of her slender hands wove its way into his, and she squeezed
gently. "Scully," he said, trying to reassure her, but her name came out a
whimper instead. He wanted to say something else, but the words eluded
him, and he figured it was just as well. He didn't have the strength to cry
at
that point, and he was sure that he would if he tried to explain how much
she meant to him.
Her eyes watched his lips open and shut wordlessly for a moment.
Her own mouth opened and her breath was hot and wet. A smudge of
brown streaked across her chin, and her face was blotchy and dirty. But
when she closed her eyes and leaned into him, barely rubbing her bottom
lip against his, all he could think of was how beautiful she was.
She didn't close her mouth over his to seal the kiss, and there wasn't
a demanding pressure for him to do so, either. Just her lips resting lightly
against his, with a light sweep of breath escaping with her unhurried inhales
and exhales. Not a real kiss, Mulder realized with sudden clarity. But
enough to reassure; enough to comfort.
Her lips were dry and cracking, and they caught gently on the
ragged crags of his own. The sensation was hardly erotic, and yet Mulder
found his body responding, despite his injuries. The added blood flow to
his groin brought with it a strange prickling throb that boiled up into his
abdomen and then around his hip to just above his bare ass.
//Oh, boy.//
He wanted so much kiss her for real, to roll her beneath him and
sink himself inside. He wanted to ask her to pull his pants back up, but she
wasn't in any condition to sit up, let alone anything that required actual
physical strength and dexterity. More than anything he wanted to slip his
tongue into her mouth. There wasn't anything stopping him, their mouths
were open, waiting...
And then the tip of her tongue met with his almost timidly, and he
felt her body swell next to his with a sigh. This new connection wasn't
anymore urgent than their lips had been. But the taste of her, the feel of
her tasting him, made his mind reel. If only he could make his arms move
without blasts of pain riveting his spine, so he could touch her face...her
body...
How could he feel so serene and such rabid desire and pain?
//Love...// he heard the word as if it had been spoken aloud. //I love
her.//
And at that instant, she pulled away just far enough to rest her head
on the pillow beside his, never once opening her eyes to monitor his
response. Her face was calm in its own right. She sighed again and slept.
//I love her...I love her...I love her...//
"I can't see it, Scully. How bad...?" He was still in the same
position
he'd fallen asleep in hours before. And with Scully studying over him, he
felt incredibly self-conscious - his shorts were still around his ankles.
"Bad bruise." The dry tone she elected told him that 'bad' was an
understatement. "I'm going to have to touch you to see if there's anything
happening inside."
"Happening? Like what?"
"Internal bleeding, kidney swelling, broken bones...what does the
pain feel like?" Her clinical detachment bothered him. Hadn't they been
kissing earlier? Or had that just been some wonderful dream?
"Like someone hit me in the back with a board." He wasn't in the
mood to play dutiful patient to her Dr. Scully. "Warn me before you -
AHHHHHH!" Her fingers shot all the way through him like burning
spikes. He screamed and tried to roll away in reflex, but she stayed with
him, applying a merciless pressure to his lower back.
"Mulder, hold still," she snapped. "You're going to make this
harder."
"You're...killing...me!" he gasped and tried to breath through the
pain. It didn't help.
"You feel okay," she mumbled distractedly. The second her hands
lifted, their absence spread a blanketed dull ache over him, quieting the
previously shooting pain. "I'm going to want to know if there's any blood
in your urine, though." He heard her inhale heavily, and then there was a
minute or so where neither of them said a word. His self consciousness
slipped back and the muscles in his ass tightened in reflex. Was she
checking him out?
Mulder tilted his head just enough to catch a glimpse of her from the
corner of his eye. She was sitting on her calves with her head down and
her eyes closed. Her hair hung wet and limp against her neck, having just
been washed, and she wore a pair of loose-fitting knit pajamas. Blue.
Very blue against the red/blue, raw flesh that surrounded her wrists. The
delicate skin there had been bruised and torn away in places. But he
ignored all that were ignored when she cupped her forehead and sighed.
"Hey, Scully. You still feeling bad?" Earlier as she'd been climbing
out
of the bed to take a shower, she'd admitted reluctantly that even though she
felt better, she was still a little dizzy. She's assured him it was just a
left-over side effect from the heat stroke, and nothing more. Could it be
something more?
"No." Her head lifted and she offered him a wan smile. "Just tired.
It's late." He took her words as sincere. He understood her fatigue.
"How late? I was hoping for a shower, too." The grime and sweat
from the afternoon ordeal was starting to itch, not to mention stink.
"Are you up to that, Mulder? Do you think you can stand?"
The thought of moving his back was unappealing, to say the least, but
he closed his eyes and tried to brace himself against the onslaught of
pain. Slowly, very slowly, he slid his hands underneath himself and pushed
up onto all fours, trying to keep his back as straight as possible. The
clothing was slipped from his ankles by his attentive partner. //Too
attentive. She's gonna get an eye full now.// And he managed to slide one
leg over the side of the bed. Mulder grimaced and bit the inside of his
cheek against the searing pain.
After a minor pause to take in a cleansing breath, Mulder was able
to push himself off the bed and stand upright. More or less. He could feel
his back catching, where before the muscles simply weren't there. Yes, he
could make it to the bathroom, but he wasn't sure he'd last through a whole
shower on his feet.
His partner had turned her back to allow him a certain amount of
modesty. Mulder wasn't as relieved as he'd expected to be.
"Scully, maybe you could put the chair in the shower for me." The
high-backed chair that sat against the wall probably wouldn't suffer too
much in the water, he guessed. //Or maybe you could strip down and join
me...//
Scully, at the end of the bed with her back to him, shook her
head. "I don't want you sitting down. At least for a couple of days."
It was awkward for him that she'd turned away. It felt as if she was
putting a distance between them, stating in body language that she
didn't feel she had a right to face him in his current state of undress. Or
didn't want to. Or couldn't bear to. Of course he didn't want her to stare
-
that would be embarrassing. But he didn't want her to avoid looking,
either. //I'm too tired for this.//
"I'll make it quick." He headed to the bathroom. No hair washing,
shaving, or teeth brushing and he might be able to get in and out in
under a minute. Another minute to relieve his bladder, and he could be
back in the bed again, and for the next couple of days he hoped. Mulder
was drained.
When he emerged from the bathroom, wearing a fresh pair of boxers
and a clean tee-shirt, he discovered that Scully had stripped the
stink-covered comforter from the bed and was spreading a white, sunburst
quilt over it. "I found it in the wardrobe," she said as she turned to look
at
him. She studied the way he was waddling. "How's the back feeling
now?"
"The heat helped. Better, believe it or not."
"Hm." She grunted critically. "Ready to take those pills, yet?"
"Nope." Mulder crawled head first onto the bed and rested his
head gently on the feather pillow. She gave a frustrated sigh and crawled
on to the bed beside him. His heart rate doubled. Another kiss?
She rolled on her side to face him and regarded him with a long
face. It was plain that she was tired, too. She gazed, blinking more than
usual, into his eyes. Mulder tried to swallow. //I love her.//
She looked so much like the partner he'd worked beside, fought
beside, lost beside; and still there was something more. Something in her
eyes, in the way her mouth moved when its edges curved up into relief
as she sighed, "You get it, now. Don't you."
She was looking straight into him, past the cocky facade and the
dodgy wit. She was seeing him as he was, not as Mulder or whoever the
hell he was always trying to be for people. It was Fox that she was
watching...seeing...and it made him tremble from the inside out. He knew
that she knew. //I love you.//
Her left hand raised and cupped his cheek, smoothing over the
stubble of the day. There was something brewing behind her dark pupils.
Her teeth worried over the inside of her lower lip. She released his face
and rolled onto her back, eyes open and staring at the blank ceiling. Then
she rolled over to the night table and turned the lamp's key. The room was
doused in a night that was darker than outside.
"Mulder?" she asked almost timidly. A bad sign. It meant she had
something to say that she wasn't really comfortable with. Couldn't they just
go back to the ease of the moment before?
"Hm?"
"The other night on the beach -"
"Which?"
"The first night."
"Okay."
"I said some things I didn't mean."
His ears perked up. "About the trust thing?" he asked hopefully.
"No, I meant that."
"Oh."
"No, I'm talking about the part about me being an ally and not a
friend."
"Oh. That part."
"I was angry."
"Yeah, me too."
"And then today, when I thought... I thought they were going to
kill me, Mulder. Or at the very least scar me. Badly. I had visions of me
with only half a face."
"Mhm," he grunted grimly.
"I couldn't let them do that to you. Not if I could stop them. That's
why I denied you. Denied what you mean to me." She turned to him with
a face that strained with grief. "And then afterwards when they dragged
you away, I was so afraid I would die before I had a chance to rectify what
I'd done. That you'd watch me be executed and think that you were
anything less than my best friend. More, even." She turned back to the
ceiling and her moist eyes searched the white plain for the words struggling
to get out. "In the last couple of years, besides my family, you've become
my best friend. My only friend, Mulder. I need you to know that."
"I do know it. I mean, I'll admit, when I heard you say it...a part of
me believed you. A part of me has to believe you, no matter what. But
hearing you tell me this, now...I remember that I know it."
"Don't ever forget."
"I won't."
"Mulder, I need you to remember."
"Scul-" He couldn't finish her name. Her mouth was suddenly
covering his, crushing his face against the force of her kiss. Her lips were
both open and closed at once, suckling his, demanding that he kiss her
back. It only took a few seconds for the shock to melt before he did. Her
hands clutched at his hair, forcing his head closer to hers.
His back protested, but not as loudly as his groin. He plunged his
tongue into her mouth and the incredible sensations from the night before
curled up into a loose ball at the base of his stomach. She was pulling his
face with her as she laid back, knowing that the rest of his body would
have to soon follow.
Dimly he registered the silky feel of her legs against his, as his lips
smoothed over her cheeks to the fine line of her jaw. //Sugar.// Her skin
actually tasted sweet in his mouth. He couldn't get enough of it. He
moved from her chin down to her slender neck, nipping and sucking. He
was encouraged by her ragged breathing; by her fingers weaving through
his hair.
Roughly, she pulled him back to her mouth. Mulder moaned as her
tongue smoothed over the inside of his teeth, his tongue, his lips.
"Scully,"
he breathed and broke the kiss. "Scully, wait." He pulled back a little,
and
his back twinged and spasmed. "Agh!" His ears started ringing from the
pain.
Her hands refused to release him, but she did allow him to move
away from her a few inches. He could hear her trying to catch her breath.
"Mulder," she whispered between pants, "is it your back?" The desperate
energy in her noticeably eased into concern.
"Uh, yeah."
Then she let him go, and he resettled on his stomach next to her. The
second he was able to relax the muscles in his back, the pain ebbed back
down to something tolerable - still there - but tolerable. He groaned. "I'm
getting too old for this."
Laying on his stomach wasn't completely comfortable, however.
His semi-erection was threatening a nice case of blue balls - and there was
no way he was going to be able to make it to the bathroom anytime in his
near future.
"Are you sure? Just your back?"
Mulder gave her a sarcastic chuckle. "Isn't that enough?"
"Is this back pain...the way it was seasickness before?"
He couldn't hide his agitation. Her accusation left him perturbed.
"You
think I'm faking this?"
"No." There was a full minute of silence before she quietly added, "I
don't want you getting out of bed in the middle of the night. Again. I'll
sleep on the chaise-"
Mulder closed his eyes. "Stop." Moving as slowly as she was, she
hadn't even been able to sit up before he stopped her.
"Really, it's OK. I understand."
"Understand? Scully, I know you think I'm avoiding -"
"Mulder, please. My head is swimming. I can't fight with you now."
"So lay down and go to sleep."
She pulled herself up to sitting. "So that I can wake up and find
you've spent the night outside? There's no way I'm going to let you so that
to your back. You're going to hobbling around for weeks as it is."
He was too tired and he hurt too much to keep hiding the truth
from her. He needed to know that she was going to be taken care of
before he could sleep, and he needed to sleep. "Scully. Stay." He took a
breath. "The truth is that I couldn't sleep. Just listening to you
breath...all
I could think about was you."
"Me?" She sounded startled, but the darkness hid any expressions she
might've had.
"Well, you and me. And then you alone. And then you with a gallon
of butterscotch sauce." He waited for a gasp or a slap or a laugh or some
kind of response that would tell him what do or say next. The simple fact
of the matter was that Mulder wasn't in his top form just then, and even if
he had been, he wouldn't've been able to tell what was going on in her
head.
"It just seemed like a good idea to not tempt fate," he concluded
simply. How could she argue with that.
"So, you think it's fate that something will happen-"
"Has happened," he quickly corrected.
"Was stopped," she amended for him. "Does that mean that you
don't want this, Mulder? Not tempting fate? Is *that* why you've been
so..."
"What have I been?"
"Dense."
"Dense?!"
"Is it, Mulder? I mean, I know it's difficult to swing one's
perception; and we've been strictly working partners for so long."
"And friends."
"Always." She swallowed a lung-full of air. "But I want to be very
clear on this: are you wanting to fight this...attraction? It's important
that
you be honest with me, Mulder. I'm a big girl. I can handle it. I think.
As
long as it's the truth."
Mulder replayed his own questions in his mind. The dark made it easier
to ask, "Is that all it is, Scully? A physical attraction?" He knew for
him, it
had ceased to be that alone. But he needed to know where she was coming
from before he could tell her that. She'd seen it, he was sure, but he
couldn't voice it. "If that's all it is...no matter how powerful...or
convenient...shouldn't we fight it in hopes of keeping our friendship and
partnership-"
She didn't wait for him to stop. "What if it's more?"
"More?" His throat contracted. "How much more?"
She was very still beside him. A little too still. "I-I...don't..."
Her
voice broke, and Mulder cursed himself for pushing her. "I know you feel
this, Mulder. You can't deny it." The sheets ruffled under her legs as she
flipped over, turning her back on him. "I don't deny it." Her tone became
harder. "Is that what you mean by trying not to tempt fate? You want to
go on denying?"
"I don't... think I can do that, now, Scully. Now that I've kissed
you." She didn't move; and so, despite the muscle spasms running up and
down his spine, he pushed himself over to her and pressed his lips against
the base of her neck. He won a gasp of pleasure from his partner.
//And friend. And more...//
"Scully," he said trying to soothe her with his voice, "we're tired.
Exhausted. Please, let's sleep. We'll wake up late and have a leisurely
breakfast and talk about this some more then." It sounded reasonable,
even to his strained and throbbing head. "And after that, we'll find Chea
and get to the bottom of this mess, and then we'll go home and take a two
week vacation from this vacation."
She chuckled for him, and it made all the difference in the world to
his psyche. He slipped an arm loosely around her middle. Her hand
clasped it to her securely. She sighed through a yawn, "Sounds like a
plan."
End of 10/17
Mulder woke to a light tap on his shoulder. The morning was a
brilliant white light and a salty breeze swept through the bamboo
shades. But he was warm snuggled in the bed. His cheek, he slowly came
to realize, was pressed against the flat of Scully's stomach; her night shirt
had ridden up in her sleep. His head gently rose and fell as she breathed.
His right arm snaked over her thigh and rear, and he held her to him
like a child with a stuffed bear. God, he loved it when women wore boxer
shorts. Granted, they matched the top, so technically they were pajamas.
But Mulder let his mind drift to a wonderful image of Scully in his
underwear. His boxers and nothing else. //Oh, yeah...//
Her left knee was bent, fitting snugly under his arm. Both of her
arms were bent above her head, and her hair fanned out over the pillow like
rays from the sun. She was still pink from her ordeal from the day before,
but it wasn't even close to being a burn. Luckily.
Another tap and Mulder jumped, startled by the dark form standing
over him. Even after he recognized Chea, it took a few breaths to ride out
the adrenaline rush. Beneath him, Scully didn't move.
The teacher eyed him and his sleeping partner suspiciously.
"Is there something I can help you with, Chea?" Mulder's back
twinged when he lifted his head.
Taking a step back, the normally calm man gritted his teeth and bit
out in a low, rumbling tone. "Vola's dead." There was a wild pain in
his black eyes that sharpened Mulder senses from out of the haze of waking
up. He felt his stomach tighten. "We must talk." Chea motioned to the
wall that connected their room to the one that Kyle and Megan shared.
"Can you walk?"
//Good question.// Carefully, Mulder untangled himself from his
partner. The pain was definitely there, but it was nothing like it had been
the night before. And he found that standing wasn't an impossible
ordeal. He would remain upright as long as speed wasn't a factor.
In the next room, Megan sat on the bed, breakfast platter before
her, picking at the culinary delights that the island had to offer and
smoking
a cigarette. Next to her was an oversized cloth pack that Kyle was
carefully stuffing with clothing and what-nots.
"What's going on?" Mulder was stiff and groggy, and still much
too tired to deal with whatever it was that his friends had a head-start on.
Between slow, controlled puffs, Megan informed him, "We're getting
the hell outta here."
Mulder hobbled over to the food and eyed it. //Did I eat at all
yesterday?// "How's the boat?"
"Fine," Kyle answered. "I don't know what that old witch was
supposed to do and I'm starting to suspect nothing at all. There's nothing
wrong with The Lady except for something that looks like blood smeared
all over the cockpit."
Mulder winced, remembering. "That's Scully. She was on The
Lady when her nose bleed hit the other night." Megan seemed genuinely
disturbed by what he'd said and looked to her husband.
"That's what I thought," he said and continued his packing.
Casually, as if they were discussing the weather over Cleveland, Kyle
mentioned, "I had a dream last night."
Mulder studied him intently. "A dream?" What must it be like to
catch glimpses into the future or the past? It was a concept that both
fascinated Mulder and left him a bit...apprehensive. "Tell me."
"Pack clothes. We're going to need warm clothes. And some food."
He paused for a moment to measure the weight of the pack. "And Dana's
going to need her medication."
"You saw Dana sick?"Megan demanded. "You didn't mention that
before."
He shrugged. "I just remembered it." He stopped and turned to
Mulder. "I'm not sure, but I think we have to go down into the caves."
"What caves?"
This time, Chea chimed in from a wooden chair in the corner.
"There are ancient caves that lead from Omani into the heart of the
volcano. They're haunted."
"Something tells me there's a story to that," Mulder moaned. The
possibilities of slipping back into that comfortable bed with Scully were
slipping farther and farther away.
"Right," said Kyle commandingly. "Then Chea will tell us on the
way down to the Lady."
"The Lady?"
"You have warmer clothes there, right? And food. And Scully's
medication."
Mulder was startled by this bit of information, almost as much as he was
startled by it coming from Kyle. "She left it on the boat?"
Kyle nodded. "On the drawers by the bed."
Impressed, Mulder couldn't suppress a small grin of astonishment.
"That's really amazing. Can you see it? Or do you just *know* it's there?
Sometime I know things in my dream without having actually dreamed
them."
"She told me yesterday," Kyle replied.
"She told you?"
"I asked." He flung the pack's straps over one shoulder and kissed
his wife's head. "I'll bring you back a present," he whispered almost
playfully in her ear.
"Tell me again why we can't just pack up and go home," she
demanded curtly. "We can navigate without the electrical equipment if we
have to. I know I could get us back to the Florida coast again."
"Because," he said into her hair, "Chea..."
Mulder looked to the small man, sitting so calm and removed, and
for the first time Mulder noticed a fresh bandage on his left forearm. And
raw bands around his wrists. Had they tied him up like they'd done to
Scully?
"And because of Taam. And Dana." Megan pursed her lips at her
husband. "You know why she needs to do this. How can we not help?"
With a defeated sign she grunted, "I know," and popped a piece of
fruit in her mouth. "I know."
"Well, then could one of you explain this to me, then, because I'm
lost." Mulder had meant the remark to be light-hearted, but the people in
the room took it gravely.
"Let's get going." Kyle was terse in his glare at Mulder as he
headed out the door. And Mulder couldn't help but think it wasn't a good
sign.
//What did I do now?!"//
The walk down to the dock was infinitely longer with Mulder's stiff and
aching back and legs. And the scowl that Chea insisted on blasting in his
direction every couple of feet was helping to stretch out that distance even
more. Finally the dark man muttered low and sharp what was on his mind.
"She said you were partners and nothing more." He slipped his hands into
the worn jeans that sagged a little around his slender hips.
"And?" Had he been talking to Kyle? Why the hell was everybody
interested in his relationship with Scully?
"And that's why you were released. I lied to my people."
"And that's somehow my fault, and you're angry with me?" A backward
logic for a backwards culture. //Why the hell aren't we getting off of this
island?//
"I believed her. But she lied. You both did." One hand
slid out and covered the bandage on his forearm. It was clear that the
wound was hurting him. "And you've used me just as they said you
would."
"Who said...? Look, Chea." A deep seated fury heated in Mulder's
chest. How dare anyone breath even the smallest slight against Scully after
what she'd just been through, let alone a man whom Mulder considered one
of the good guys? His indignance blared even with his hunched posture
and uneven gait. "If you're referring to what Scully said while she was
being TIED TO A POLE after being DRAGGED through town by an
angry mob of people screaming at her in a language SHE DIDN'T
UNDERSTAND, then you're wrong." He kept his eye focused forward,
ignoring the nervous glances from Kyle that warned him to stop. "She said
we weren't a couple - that we're not lovers..." Mulder had to
swallow to open his suddenly dry throat. "She didn't lie."
Chea's stride and tone were dangerously level. "I saw you in bed this
morning-"
"What!" Kyle was nearly beside himself. "That's wonderful!"
"It's not true." Mulder wondered if Kyle's jubilance wasn't partly
a vain attempt at derailing the tension. "What you THINK you saw," he
barked to Chea, "isn't what really happened. Not that I OWE you any
explanation."
"You held her like a lover-"
"Not a lover!" Mulder's snap brought a look of narrowed disbelief
from his accuser, and an inward hesitation of shock at just how vehemently
he'd spat out the words. He took a breath and regrouped. "At least not
yet."
Kyle didn't venture another word on the subject.
They turned on to the main pathway that led through the trees and
undergrowth, and down to the pier. Mulder noticed the frightened and
even hateful stares of the few people that they passed. No one offered a
greeting of any kind, instead giving the three of them a wide birth. Not
that he'd expected anything else after what had happened the day before.
He hadn't been sure what to expect from the natives, but his best guess was
something along the same lines.
Breaking the tension, Mulder asked: "You said Vola was dead. What
happened?"
Chea ran a hand over his face in one cleansing sweep and shook his
head. "Stabbed. Like Dr. Juuj. Through the heart." He seemed reluctant
to reveal anymore, and Mulder guessed it had something to do with Chea's
new-found mistrust. A concept Mulder was very familiar with.
Kyle tried to help. "We think it was probably the same person or
persons who killed Juuj. And we're assuming that everyone else here
will draw the same conclusion."
"But they think that Scully killed -" Mulder froze in his tracks. "If
they
suspect Scully, she's in danger!"
He was ready to start off running, not even sure how his body would
react to the physical strain, when Kyle caught his arm. "Mulder, this isn't
the time to play hero."
Chea supported Kyle. "Especially now. Rash actions might be
misconstrued..."
"What the hell are you talking about? I'm not going to do anything
rash; I want to make sure nothing happens... Someone is purposely
trying to frame Scully." The thought popped into his head and he fought
the notion, even as he said it. "Kyle. Tell me I'm insane to think that
someone is trying to frame Scully."
With a shrug, Kyle muttered apologetically, "It does kinda look that
way."
Mulder continued in his train of thought. "Which means that they
would've had to have known that she would be the first person to find the
doctor and attempt a resuscitation, since - from what I gather - the only
reason they accused her in the first place was that she was standing over
him covered in blood and holding the knife... It does sound incriminating,
doesn't it?"
"Meg is taking Scully down to Omani while we get the things we're
going to need from The Lady."
"Yes," Chea nodded, "they should both be safe down there. Omani
is a haven."
Mulder jumped down his throat. "What the hell are you talking about?
Juuj was MURDERED down there!"
With a little less confidence, Chea replied, "Perhaps not. Dr. Scully
suggested that he had been taken there after the attack. Something to do
with lack of blood -"
The image of a faceless someone dragging that old man's body down
the stone steps and through the chambers and hallways to get him into the
lab left Mulder with a wince of disgust on his face.
"And," Chea added, "if his attacker hadn't meant to deliver the fatal
blow, he may have taken Dr. Juuj down to Omani to the spirits to be
healed."
"Healed how?"
With a shrug, Chea said simply, "Spirits can heal. If they choose to."
Mulder pressed the heel of his hand to his temple. How long had it
been since he'd had something to eat? He was sure if he had a Big Mac -
or two - he'd feel a hundred times better, and be able to think clearly
again.
"Okay. Explain to me why we are going into the caves if there's nothing
wrong with The Lady. Can't we just get the hell out of here? Don't tell me
it's only because of Kyle's dreams-"
"No. Although Kyle has described the Gaal in perfect detail. No,
we are going into the heart of Omani because of Taam."
//Gaal? What the hell is a Gaal?//
Kyle stopped short just before the three of them turned on to the
dock. "Mulder." He took a moment to look back over the leering glares
of
the few people who watched them from the path, and then his eyes
hesitated for a moment on Chea's tense frown before gazing out to The
Lady, sitting peacefully at the end of the pier, waiting for her owners to
return. "Mulder, this morning Taam's parents...cut...her forehead and
banished her from their family."
"Has the whole WORLD gone insane?!"
"They're trying to protect their other children. They believed that
by excising Taam from their family, they would save the lives of their other
four kids."
"You've got to be kidding!"
"Not at all. This is all very serious."
"This is insanity! These people physically abused their daughter
and then disowned her?! Where is she now?"
"Omani. She ran." Chea shifted uneasily. "But I know where she's
going."
"Where?"
"Taam is going to the Heart to ask for forgiveness."
"What the hell for?"
"For allowing Her to take the Mare instead. The horse was the first
animal frozen. Taam believes, as do her parents and the community, that
She had intended to take her."
"This is ludicrous! So what is she..." Mulder was beginning to
understand. "She's offering herself as a sacrifice?"
"That's what we're afraid of," Kyle said solemnly.
"And she's going to the Heart of Omani, wherever the hell THAT
is to do it?"
"That's what we're afraid of."
"So, why aren't we running after her now?"
Chea started them towards the boat again. "The caves are
dangerous. That's why people are forbidden to go in there."
"I thought they didn't go in because of the ghosts," Mulder
muttered dryly.
With a half-grin, Kyle quipped: "Where do you think all of the
ghosts came from?"
"Actually, the Heart used to be burial catacombs, but people kept
falling down ravines and being swept away in the underground rivers."
"Which is why we're getting ropes and flashlights and nifty 20th
century gadgets to help us."
From the corner of his eye, Mulder caught the excited smirk on
Kyle's face. The man was actually excited about the whole spelunking
angle. //The man's crazy. They're all crazy. Hell, I'm crazy for following
along.//
When they were heading out again to Omani, and both Kyle and Chea
were loaded with large canvas back packs, Mulder's eye caught on the
bandage wrapping the marked man's forearm.. "What happened?"
"A punishment for involving Vola. Asking her to help Dana was not
considered a 'correct' thing to do."
"How so?"
"It would be like asking the Dalai Lama to personally free an American
prisoner from death row."
Mulder's veins ran cold for an instant. "They were going to kill her?"
"The only punishment for death is death."
"But she was innocent!"
"Which is why I begged Vola to intercede on Her behalf. As
inappropriate as it may have been, I knew it would work. And apart
from watching an innocent woman die, I knew that Dr. Scully's exectution
would have tremendous consequences for Erlona and my people. I was
educated at Columbia University; I have a Doctorate in Educational
Political Science. And I'm very aware that your government makes
it a point to get involved whenever its citizens are killed by foreign hands.
Without a government here, that would mean certain colonization or at the
very least annexation. Save the world for Democracy with tyranny. That
is how the U.S. has always worked."
"Apparently no one else saw things your way?" Kyle said lightly.
"They rarely do. Very few Erlonians have ever been off the island.
And the handful that have don't come back."
"You came back," Mulder pointed out.
"Of course. This is my home."
Home. He said the word with such reverence that Mulder forgot
for a moment about the backward, primitive life that Chea lived. The man
loved his home. For all of its faults and failings, he defended it. Even
the
people who had scarred him all of his life, marking on his very person every
reason why he should hate and despise Erlona, he protected from invaders.
He protected them from themselves. The only reason why he sought out
Mulder again after another such marking was that Chea understood only
too clearly how out of control things had become in his island world and
that there was no one there who could set it right again.
In the darkness of the cavern, deeper into the twists and knots of Omani
than Mulder had ever been before, Scully sat on a low rock with an arm
cradling her stomach. Her head hung forward from her shoulders.
"Scully?"
She looked up. "Hey." She'd pulled her hair back into a sloppy pony
tail, and she wore jeans with rolled-cuffs and a long sleeved shirt that
Mulder had never seen before. He assumed they were Megan's.
"Scully? You okay?"
"Yeah, fine." She smiled for him. "I ate too much breakfast."
Beside her Megan snickered her opinion of just how much Scully'd eaten,
then stood up to greet her husband with a warm kiss.
"Did she come out?" Chea asked hopefully.
"Didn't see a thing."
Mulder was painfully aware that his partner hadn't taken her eyes
from him. "What?" He asked her quietly while the rest of the group
organized who was going to carry what.
"I was worried when you weren't there this morning." The concern that
weighted her brow didn't ease. "I can see your back is still hurting."
"Actually, it's better. Stiff and sore, but I'm pretty sure I'm going
to
live now." His light joke hit the cold rock floor like a ton of bricks.
"Hey,
Scully, it's me. I always survive these things. You know that."
She allowed a nod, and stood with her own oversized load as the
group picked up the various bags and began to follow Chea to the ornate
twenty foot archway. Kyle stopped for a moment just staring at the
intricately carved figured columns that framed their entrance. Long ago
there may have been paint that decorated the interlacing of foliage and
people, but it had long since decayed in the cool moisture of the cave.
"Meggie." He smiled. "Didn't I tell you it was beautiful?"
Chea turned to them, his face distant and almost haunted. "This is
Gaal.
It is the entrance to the Heart of Omani." Then, he faced the threshold. "I
cannot explain to you what our intrusion here means. Except to say that I
consider this ground more sacred than the Vatican. More holy than
Jerusalem. Please," he whispered, but Mulder could hear his word as if
he'd spoken directly in his ear. "For my soul, tread softly."
Scully gave a wary sideways glance at her partner and followed the
marked man through the archway. Kyle and Megan followed with Morg
tied to a length of rope at Kyle's belt. They looked like tourists on a
sightseeing trip that had gone awry; each not really wanting to go forward,
and still forcing themselves to do it with a morbid eagerness.
Mulder's stomach rumbled, and he shook his head. //It's a safe bet
this wouldn't have been on the Disney World itinerary.//
The moment they were all through Gaal, a terrific wind rushed from
the blackened tunnel head, kicking up dirt from the cave floor and sending
hands and arms flying to protect delicate eyes.
"What they hell was THAT?!" Megan wiped her face against her
sleeve.
"At least we know this cave isn't a dead end," Scully supplied
helpfully.
"The spirits know we're here." Chea's voice became flat. He
checked over his faithful crew, and once again Mulder noted to himself
how Chea's calm and intelligence made him a natural leader.
Scully retrieved the lantern that had dropped from her hand. Mulder
grabbed the bag that was at her side, but she stopped him before he had a
chance to slip it over his shoulder. "I'll carry it."
"Scully, you're tired."
"So are you. And don't try to tell me you're not. I'm not blind, you
know."
"Scully, let me carry the bag."
"Stop being a pig, Mulder. I'm perfectly capable of carrying my
share. While you on the other hand, are injured." She yanked on the
shoulder straps and got them away from his grasp. He couldn't help but
notice again the raw skin and bruises cuffing her delicately small wrists.
"Can I at least carry the lantern?"
She tossed him a look of tired frustration, and handed it over.
They'd walked for the better part of two hours through the cave,
darkness looming all around them, making very little progress. The path
that they followed through the maze of boulders and fallen rocks was
uneven, and the gentle ramps, in places, dropped off into drastic slopes
with jagged edges. The ceiling was unpredictable as well, jutting up into
the void of the shadows, only to spike down as stalactites again. And it
seemed to Mulder that every ten minutes or so, the temperature dropped
noticeably.
They reached the rocky shore of another underground river - or
maybe it was the one they'd managed to cross earlier - and Chea called for
a five minute break while he tried to decided the safest way over the wild
current. The rapids were a dull roar in the otherwise silent caves, churning
and bubbling as they raced into a hole in the face of the rock wall.
Mulder took advantage of the respite to pull a sweatshirt from the
large bag Scully dropped at her feet, and then pulled out another for her
figuring if he was chilly, she must be absolutely frozen. Scully was always
cold. Inexplicably so.
"Here." He handed the grey sweatshirt to her, and she took it but
didn't put it on. Instead, she tossed it to the ground and planted herself
cross-legged above it. It was at that point that Mulder noticed she was
panting a little. "The next time I take you sailing, I swear we'll stick to
small lakes and ponds."
"That's right." A smile blossomed on her face. "We don't have a
very good track record with boats, do we?"
"Hey, that wasn't my fault," he defended, knowing exactly to which
disaster she was referring. "Old Blue rammed and sank that boat."
"Mulder, Old Blue doesn't exist. And besides, I believe *I* was
driving the boat when we rammed into that rock." She sighed at the
memory - an apparently fond memory from the look on her face, though
for the life of him Mulder couldn't see why she would have anything but
negative feelings about that whole case. But she did. And truth be known,
he did, too. Because for however many hours they were stuck out on that
rock, he'd had her to himself. Not physically, of course; she'd sat on her
life preserver as far from him as she could possibly have gotten. But that
night he didn't have to share her with anyone; not even that stupid dog that
had gotten itself eaten by that point. Not even the stupid case. And they
had talked that night. Really talked. Enough to make Mulder feel a little
uncomfortable, in fact. It was wonderful. Why hadn't they talked like that
since?
"I think we can cross this river without much problem if we're
careful and take it slowly. It's not deep at all. But we'll need to be
careful
of the current." Chea, as usual had everything under control. Pulling a
rope from his pack, he knotted off a three foot space down its length and
positioned everyone along it in a logical formation: placing himself first,
then Scully, Megan, Mulder and Kyle with Morg.
On the other side of the river, the rope was put away, and they
started on again down a sharply angled and terribly narrow pathway.
Single file, they made it down to the bottom at a snail's pace, and once
there, discovered that the path led up again. Mulder's legs were really
starting to bother him. He was walking with his legs at an awkward angle
because of the pain in his back, and the muscles in his thighs were
beginning to protest. The trouble was that even when they took a break
for a minute or two, he couldn't sit down. The bruising, it seemed, had
scored the top of his pelvis and any kind of heavy pressure exploded into
shards of pain. So sitting was out.
Even Morg, who had been excited at the beginning of their cave
adventure and insisted on sniffing everything that she could get her wet
nose on, was tired and drooping her long tail. She trailed Kyle faithfully,
but didn't bother to investigate anything along their path anymore.
In an act of desperation, Mulder called to the man at the front of
their group, "Chea! How much farther is it?" He simply couldn't go on
much longer without collapsing. The mind was willing; the body was not.
On the steep slope, Chea turned, giving Mulder a chance to brace
himself against his upper thighs and rest his aching back. "I've never been
in here before."
"Then how do we know we're going the right way?" Scully, too,
was pushing the envelope. Her voice had an edge to it that Mulder
recognized as fatigue.
"The path is fairly well worn. But no one has been down here in
living memory - at least that I know of, so it's hard to say how long it will
take to get to the main chamber." He adjusted the lantern in his right hand
to give off a larger flickering glow.
Kyle scratched at the back of his neck. "Is the large chamber the
one with the white pool and the big red and black circle on the wall?"
The teacher looked truly shaken. "You dreamt that as well?"
Kyle's gaze crept from Chea to Scully, and Mulder's internal alarms
began to sound again. "You look like you could use a rest," he said
diplomatically.
Chea protested. "We must reach Taam as soon as possible. The
trip down to your boat wasted a lot of valuable time."
Morg gave two excited barks.
"We won't find her in the main chamber," Kyle said with a certainty
that chilled Mulder to the bone. The man's dreams were starting to
fascinate Mulder on a whole new level. At some point he was going to
have to sit Kyle down and find out exactly how his special ability worked.
But not in the caves. Not with Scully within earshot to roll her eyes and
scoff. Or maybe *with* Scully, after all. Maybe if she heard about
paranormal abilities from someone she knew, she would be more accepting.
"Kyle," Mulder demanded, knowing that he knew, "where is she?"
With a small grin, Kyle's left arm raised and pointed to an
overhanging rock about 20 feet above their heads.
Standing up there in the afterglow of the flashlight and lantern wash
stood the small teenager in her thin summer dress, shaking. Her eyes were
white in contrast to her frightened face, and she looked ready to scamper
away at the first sign of trouble.
"Taam!" Chea's voice was overflowing with relief. He spoke to
her in her native tongue, calming and coddling his student. Her head shook
negatively a few times, but she didn't flee.
"She hasn't been any farther than this," he reported in a hushed
voice, "and she won't come down here. I'm afraid if I go up after her, that
she'll just run deeper into the mountain."
"No," Mulder countered. "She doesn't want to go deeper. That's
why she's here. Ask her if something happened to frighten her."
Dutifully, Chea turned back to Taam, and she nodded slowly.
Then, without warning, she threw something at the group. Or rather,
beside the group. It shattered on impact.
"My God," Scully breathed as she examined the broken remains,
"her lantern was frozen solid!" Her eyes lifted in deep concern to the girl
up on the ledge. "She's got to be hurt, Chea. Her hand must be burned
from touching the frozen metal."
It took a few minutes for Chea to talk the girl down from the shadows
above. When she resurface from around the corner that the path
disappeared behind, he walked on shaky legs, holding her left hand out in
front of her. It didn't take a doctor to see that it was badly damaged. The
flesh from the palm of her hand was dark and peeling off in great sheets
and her wrist and arm were scored with blisters and dead skin.
Scully's doctor's impulses sprang to life and she pulled Taam down
to sit against a large rock while she dug through her bag in a frenzy.
"Don't we have some bandages or something?"
Mulder took a few steps back and spared himself the sight, refusing
to look even when Scully demanded more light and then a blanket. She
had everything under control, and Kyle and Chea seemed to be eager to
help however they could.
"You okay?" Megan crept up beside him. "From the way you're
walking, I'd say your back is hurting more."
"The backs about the same. "Mulder gave her a dry smile. "My
legs are killing me." The sound of him complaining about his physical
pains seemed flat in his ears when he thought about Taam. "She's really
holding it together remarkably well." Mulder motioned to the teen with a
nod of his head. "I think I'd be bawling my eyes out."
"She's in shock." Megan glanced over her shoulder at the progress
Scully was making. "It looks like we're going to be here for a while. At
least until Taam can recover enough to walk out of here. You should eat
something."
"I am hungry," Mulder conceded.
Megan helped him spread a blanket over the cold stone floor and
pulled some bread and fruit from the food bag. "We should eat the fruit
before it goes bad." Mulder wasn't about to complain. The orange smelled
delicious even still wrapped in its peel.
Soon, Kyle and Scully wandered over to join in the small meal;
Chea opting to stay with his student while she lightly dozed on the
make-shift bed they'd constructed for her.
"She's going to be more or less all right, I think." Scully ripped a
large hunk from the loaf and stuffed a quarter of it in her mouth. "There
will be some scarring, of course. But I don't think she'll lose any of her
digits." She adjusted herself down on her belly, in the same position
Mulder was laying in, and took another huge bite. "I also dressed the cut
on her forehead. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be...speaking of
which, Mulder, how's your thumb?"
"Scabbed over nicely, thank you." How embarrassing that she would
remember his potato pealing accident in conjunction with the wound Taam
had.
"Oh, good." She reached above her head and squeezed his calf.
"And how's your back?" She laid her head on her other arm and closed her
eyes.
"About like you predicted."
"Hmpf."
At that point Kyle and Megan moved off of the blanket, clearing the
remains of their meal with them. They staked out a flat area between Chea
and Taam, and Mulder and Scully, and spread out their own blanket.
"You're...you're not going to sleep in *here*?" The look of
Genuine disbelief that riddled Chea's face worried Mulder. He wasn't sure
he could walk any farther without some rest.
"Scully's already asleep," Megan said matter-of-factly. "We might
as well rest."
Chea clamped his mouth shut and didn't protest as Kyle dimmed the
lantern. Instead he offered up a simple prayer and then leaned back against
a boulder next to Taam, trying to find a comfortable position.
Mulder and closed his eyes and slept.
End of 11/17
Mulder woke in confusion and darkness. And cold. His hands
fumbled to his face and he found that it wasn't his eyes - he could actually
see his hands. Barely. The lantern that sat quietly beside where Kyle and
his wife were curled up was set for a low glow; just enough to see the
other lanterns when everyone was ready to wake. Which, by the sounds of
the steady breathing that broke the absolute silence engulfing him, wasn't
going to be anytime soon.
The silhouette of Scully's hip drew him closer to her. She wore the
sweatshirt that he'd given her earlier, and her jeans-clad legs were drawn
tightly up against her chest. It didn't take a genius to see that she was as
cold as he was. The cave around them seemed to generate a wet chill that
was able to permeate even layers of clothing. Shivering, he crawled over
and curled around her before he folded the remains of the blanket over the
two of them and tried by sheer will alone to generate more body heat.
His back wasn't giving him as much trouble as it had been, and
laying on his side actually became a comfortable position. Snuggled up to
Scully, how could it not?
She gave a high-pitched hiccup in her sleep, settling in against the
warmth of Mulder's torso. He kissed her ear and then her neck, and then
laid his head on his arm, closed his eyes, and listened to her breathe.
Waking up on cold rock was one of the more unpleasant experiences
Mulder could remember. The chill in the air combined with his recent
injuries and the lack of a cushioning pillow left his battered body
riddled with stiff, throbbing aches. It took him half a minute to sit up,
and
about two seconds to remember that sitting was on his list of things *not*
to do. He rolled away from his partner and managed to swallow most of
his yelp before it woke the whole party.
Chea was up already, though, watching the sleeping Taam with
paternal eyes. He pulled her blanket up another inch, tucking it under her
rounded chin. When he spotted Mulder, he nodded his head in
acknowledgment.
On his hands and knees, Mulder crawled past Kyle and Megan
cuddled together and breathing in unison. The cold didn't seem to be
bothering them. Morg, too, was curled tightly against them, sharing their
wealth of heat. The dog opened a tired eye, and seeing it was only Mulder,
closed it again.
Once he made it over to Chea, reclining against the uneven rock
wall, the teacher broke off an end of the long reddish vegetable he'd been
nibbling on and handed it to Mulder. Leaning on one hip, Mulder managed
to prop himself up and he took the offered food. His stomach rumbled in
anticipation.
"Pai," Chea whispered. "It is a staple among my people. Very high
in vitamins."
Mulder sniffed at the vegetable, trying to hide his unexpected
revulsion. It smelled like some bizarre cross between a cucumber and
rotting soil. He swallowed to keep from gagging outright.
"I think I'll pass."
"It tastes better than it smells."
"It would have to."
In the soft light Chea smiled and motioned to the couple in the
center of the small chamber. "Earlier, he was crying. Tears." Taking a
bite of his Pai, he considered his own words. "I am...concerned."
"You believe in his dreams?"
"Yes." Clearing his throat, Chea picked up the high-rimmed wooden
bowl next to him. "The water in the river is fresh; it feeds into the main
water system for the village. Shall we?" He handed the water bowl to
Mulder, grabbed a lantern, and stood.
The two of them tip-toed around the sleeping bodies, Mulder
pausing briefly to draw Scully's blanket up over her shoulder, and they
headed off towards the river. Its faint shushing sound led the way through
the darkened tunnel.
Once they were far enough from the make-shift camp, Chea asked,
"You don't believe Kyle's dreams are real?"
"Oh, no. I believe very much in prognostication and divining the
future. And Kyle's dreams appear to be sincere. I would just like more
evidence." Mulder's thumb ran over the smooth lip of the bowl. "Is he
seeing the future as it *must* happen, or as it *might* happen. And what
exactly are the dreams like? I have a hundred question that I haven't been
able to ask yet-"
Just as Mulder finished speaking, a blast of cold air shot past them.
It caught for an instant in the yellow glow of the lanterns as a white vapor,
hovering anxiously as if it didn't know which way to flow before shooting
off in the direction is was originally going: towards the river.
"Did you see that?!" Mulder's heart thudded in his chest. "It... it
LOOKED at us!"
Chea's face was fixed in a shocked fear that Mulder hadn't seen on
the man before. "The spirits..."
"That was a spirit?"
"MUUUULDERRRRRR!"
Scully's wail ripped through the center of him, sending his heart and
his mind into a buzzing panic. Without a second to think, Mulder bolted
into a sprint, heading back into the blackness. Chea was right behind him.
The "spirit" had come from behind them as they were walking to
the river...had it passed through the camp? Was it these spirits that were
icing everything they came into contact with? //Scully!// He had to get to
her.
After the initial scream, there hadn't been anything more. Nothing
to tell him what was happening. His feet pounded against the ungiving
earth below him, ignoring the brief blasts of pain each time contact was
made.
When he entered the small chamber again, Scully sat upright on the
blanket where he'd left her, clutching her hands to her chest. Kyle stood
over her, shifting from one foot to another, trying to decide what he
should do. Megan knelt not far behind him.
"Scully!" Mulder slid to the ground beside her. "What is it?
What's wrong?" He found his hands gripping her shoulders, pulling her
closer to him.
"Nothing. I'm sorry." In the dim light, her face was flushed in
humiliation. She tried to pull away from him.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Her eyes fell down to her lap, and she tried to hide her
face behind her fallen hair.
"Nightmare?"
"Where did you go? I could've sworn you were...behind me..."
A cockeyed grin broke out on Mulder's face. He couldn't help it.
His normally stoic partner was having a severe attack of embarrassment. It
was adorable. He pushed the hair that was falling in her eyes behind her
ear, but she shook her head, breaking his hold. "I've had a rough couple of
days."
"We've had a rough couple of years." Before she could duck away
from him again, he slipped his arms around her and pulled her up against
him.
He kissed her then, sealing everything between them. Love, anger,
frustration, acceptance; his hand slipped behind her head and he opened his
mouth wide over hers. He could taste the heat in her, the passion, the
trust. The belief that no matter what happened between them, they would
always be stronger together than apart. Tears prickled in his eyes, and
he kissed her to reassure her that he was there, behind her, one hundred
percent. He kissed her to tell her that he loved her. He kissed her because
her lips, even dry, felt so good against his own... right...hot.
It was Scully who pulled away first, out of breath and eyes wide
with a brightness that Mulder recognized and loved.
Behind him Taam whimpered, reminding where they were. Scully
pushed herself from his arms, making it to her feet with a bad case of stiff
back herself. But Mulder took great pride in her initial moment of
hesitation. She hadn't wanted to leave him, even in her doctor mode.
It wasn't until then that Mulder noticed Chea staring at him with a
look of...destain? Like a dog befriended with the promise of food, and
when it gets close enough to get its jowls around the treat, it finds a
plastic
squeak toy instead. Turning his back on the glare, Mulder yanked the
blanket off the ground and shook out the dirt. After all, it wasn't his
fault
Chea had it wrong. And he wasn't about to defend his relationship with his
Scully - which was none of Chea's business - when all that had happened
were three kisses. Three wonderful, promising kisses...
"Hey, Dude," Megan came up behind him and took the folded blanket
from his hands. "You zoned out for a second there." Her smirk
left a shy half-grin on his own face. "You about ready to get outta here?
Dana says Taam is good enough to walk."
"Uh, yeah-"
"Good. 'Cause I want to get the hell outta Dodge."
From the corner of his eye, Mulder saw Kyle inch up behind his wife
and take a deep breath to bolster his courage. "Meggie..."
When she turned to see the look of chagrin on his face, Megan seemed
to know what he was going to say. "Oh, no," she countered. "Do NOT
make me get out my pointy boots."
"Meg, be reasonable." He tried to rest his hands on her upper arms, but
she jerked away from him.
"No! We are LEAVING THIS CAVE, THIS ISLAND, AND THIS
INSANITY!"
"The Heart, Meggie."
"Don't you 'Meggie' me!" She snatched their blanket from the floor
and folded it furiously. "I don't care what your damn dreams are telling
you! UGH! I need a smoke!" She stormed over to the bag she'd been
carrying and pulled out her soft pack. "And don't feed me that line about
what Dana needs, either. You don't KNOW that being in the Heart, or the
Lung, or the Small Intestine of this godforsaken hell hole will change
anything. You said yourself that you can't remember!"
A wince on Kyle's face covered a genuine look of anguish.
"Meggie, please."
"NO!" Her emphatic answer stopped him in his tracks. Kyle smoothed
his hands over his head in frustration.
"We're going in." Scully's calm control sent a shiver down
Mulder's spine.
"What?" he asked in disbelief. "Scully you can't be serious."
"I am."
"But...why? Shouldn't we get Taam to a hospital or something? For
the burns? Even if it is an Erlonian hospital?"
"What is that supposed to mean?" Chea's indignance seemed out of
place to Mulder.
Scully met his steady gaze. "We're going in."
"You may be," Megan said, taking a huge drag off her cigarette, "but I
sure as hell am not." Her conviction level was low.
With a shrug, Scully lifted her bag and a lantern. "Suit yourself."
Beside her, Kyle swung his own bag over his shoulder and let it fall heavily
on his back.
Mulder knew what was happening. There was no way in hell that
Megan would let Kyle stay in the cave - let alone travel to the mysterious
Heart - alone. No more than Mulder would with Scully. It was a crude
manipulation, but it worked. Kyle, Chea and Taam headed for the far
opening in the rock, with Scully leading the way. Beside Megan, Morg
whimpered her distress at the apparent split of her two beloved
parents. She looked from a disappearing Kyle to a furious Megan with
equal imploring.
Finally, Mulder shrugged and followed the group, knowing that
Megan would follow, albeit under protest. "Look at it this way," he said as
he flashed her a light grin, "if nothing else, this promises to be a great
show."
"Don't you find it odd that Dana wants to go in there?"
"Not really. She wants to understand what's been happening to the
people on this island. It seems like a logical place to look."
"Why?" Megan's question left Mulder quiet for several minutes
while he tried to formulate an answer.
"You know, it's odd," he admitted, "but we don't really know anything
about the Heart, do we? Except that Taam wanted to go there to sacrifice
herself -"
"Which, in my book, is a good reason to avoid the place all
together," she snapped, flinging her cigarette butt against a bunch of
huddled rocks.
Mulder had to admit she had a point. "There's always Kyle's
dreams..."
"Yeah, and he's been very cryptic about them. Granted, he doesn't
always remember them clearly - or at all - but why would he be so dead set
on going to a place if he didn't remember it well?"
"I don't know."
"Neither do I. But I *do* know that I don't think it's a great idea to
go barreling into something that could most definitely be a one-way street."
"I'm starting to agree with you."
"Finally! Someone thinking with their head and not their heart!"
Mulder couldn't help a snort. "Scully is usually begging me to use my
head while I'm trying to get her to open to the extreme possibilities that
you can't find in science and logic." And once again she was playing his
part, and he was left flapping his arms, not sure what to do. "What did you
mean when you said that Kyle didn't need to remind you about Dana? He
said something similar in the bungalow before we left; something about not
needing to remind you about why this was so important to her."
Her expression strained when she looked at him. Megan quieted.
"You know. The cancer."
"What about it?"
"I'm sure she's told you."
Mulder grabbed her arm, stopping them both in their tracks. "What?
Tell me." Had Scully confided in this woman and not him? Had she told
him that there had been no change, when in fact the cancer had progressed?
It seemed impossible to think, and still he forced himself to demand, "Tell
me!"
Looking both guilty and concerned, Megan glanced at the group
moving farther away before she turned back to Mulder. "On The Lady, she
had mentioned that with her illness it was difficult to work effectively, and
of course at that time I didn't know it was cancer. But then, afterwards,
after the horrible nosebleed, the morning before the whole pole incident,
we met for breakfast before she went down into the lab. I'd questioned her
about being up so early and why wasn't she just enjoying herself." A
mischievous grin fluttered across her face. "Suggesting you and a bed I
think..." Mulder's expression didn't change and she forged ahead. "And
she said that when she got back to DC she was going to resign. That
she was a threat to you, as your partner. And that helping these people
would be her last act as an investigator and a doctor." Megan's chin
trembled a little and she brushed it off, nodding to the group. "We'd better
catch up."
"Why didn't she...?"
"'Don't know. I don't know how she holds it together, either. She
nearly had me bawling that morning."
"She's strong. She can beat this."
"Is she trying?"
"Uh...no. It's inoperable, and the chemo she did try made her...she
didn't want to do that again."
"I can't say I blame her. So why do you think she'll beat it?"
"Because. She has to. Because she's Scully."
"Jesus, Mulder! Do you even hear what you're saying? Dana isn't a
super hero. She's a woman who has a terminal disease. She can't possibly
live up to the expectations you lay on her."
"I *know* that. I don't put anything on-"
"It's hard, you know. Watching someone you love and respect lose
when they're fighting so hard. And they do fight. They fight like demons
because that's what we expect. But how do you fight something that's
inside you? When you have no control over any of the players?"
Mulder didn't want to talk anymore; at least not with the
conversation hitting so hard, so close to home.
Megan continued. "I had three miscarriages before the doctors
discovered the cancer in my uterus. How they could miss it is beyond me.
I tried the chemo and radiation. I knew how badly Kyle wanted children.
How badly *I* wanted children. I was never one of those people
who worried about bringing another person into this world. I knew that
when I found the right man, I'd be the perfect mother." She shrugged.
"But the cancer spread to my ovaries and there was nothing I could do.
They had to take it all out."
"So you *did* beat it."
"No. I'm alive, but the cancer won. It took away all of the children
Kyle and I might've had."
"But you're alive."
"You're missing my point, Mulder."
"Which is?"
"Why do you think she told me about retiring and not you?"
"I...I don't know."
"Well, think about it."
The archway that led into the Heart was more incredible than the
Gaal had been. Finely carved faces and figures were intricately woven up
and down the four columns that supported the low granite ceiling. The
detail work reminded Mulder of ivory carved Chinese figurines, stacked
top to bottom in a never ending pattern, spiraling up to the flat rock above.
Each person and creature wore their own facial expression, each leaf had
distinguishable veins.
The arch itself shone a brilliant grey in the pinkish light that poured
from the chamber within. It stood no higher than six feet, but the effect
was breathtakingly grand. The stone wall it was carved directly onto was
polished to a slick shine that reflected the emerging glow.
Scully mumbled a stunned, "I don't believe it," under her breath.
Inside the archway, the play of light was diffused. It poured
red/orange
from the sunset outside through a
hollowed out vent slanting into the ceiling; bringing the warmer evening air
with its salty taste in as well. The warm breeze felt luxurious.
The walls of the large room were covered in a pale red crystal that
seemed to grow from the ceiling down. Enormous stalactites hung like
icicles, glowing with the stuff. The overall effect was very much like the
inside of a heart, complete with valves and veins.
Towards the back of the room there was a smallish bubbling pool of
a thick white liquid. A thin veil of steam hovered over it, churning and
bubbling in its own right. The pool was lipped with stones that had been
smoothed and rounded.
Just above the pool, against the far wall, an enormous circle was
carved and painted black and red in alternating layers. The figures in the
circle wore crystal-like stones in their tiny eye sockets, and they sat or
stood frozen in their individual tasks, watching with glittering eyes as the
group entered the room. Around the circle, rays snaked out, covering the
whole wall.
Mulder split his focus between the power of the beauty that
surrounded him and the look of awe on his partner's face. She could peel
her eyes from the milky liquid. "No...NO!"
The vapors that had previously been circling over the pool suddenly
changing their course to swarm like hungry seagulls over the group.
There were exactly five seconds to think before Mulder was hit.
One second to see the vapors hurling towards them, one second to push
Scully down to the floor with a shove that would've leveled a man twice
her size, one second to raise his arm up to shield his face, and two seconds
to gaze down into her horror ridden eyes as her lips parted in a shrill cry
that Mulder knew he would never forget as long as he lived.
In the sixth second he died.
He hit the ground hard enough to raise a puff of dust.
If he had been able to smile a giddy smile at the actual sensation of
death, he would have; it was nothing like he'd envisioned. There was
pain, of course, a brief freezing agony that sliced through him, and then
that was over even before it really had begun. And the odd ache of his
heart stopping in his chest - he really had not expected to ever feel that.
His eyes froze open, so he could see the swarming wisps zip away; though
it was like looking through an ice cube. His hearing was a lot like that,
too: muffled and distorted. People were screaming, both male and female
voices. And then Scully, crying over and over, "No no no no no no no..."
She lifted his head from the ground and cradled him in her lap,
smoothing his frozen hair from his frozen forehead.
//She's burning her hands by touching me. Why is she burning her
hands? Why do I *know* she's burning her hands?//
Mulder was frozen, of this there was no doubt. He couldn't move,
couldn't feel, couldn't respond. And yet, he *knew* she was weeping, and
that her chest was heaving with the force of her sobs. He could see her
leaning over him, tears streaming down her red face. He could hear other
voices, like bees humming in a hive. Was this death? Confined to a lifeless
body and forced to know and observe without the possibility of ever
responding again?
Her head dipped low, but before she could graze her lips across his,
she was yanked up and away from him; he slammed back to the rock floor.
"Dana! Are you crazy! Look at your hands!" It was Megan's
injecting some reason into the chaos.
"Let me go!"
The view of the ceiling became obscured and Kyle's out-of-focus
form took its place. His face was twisted and tears streamed down his
darkly stubbled cheeks as he leaned in closer. "Oh, man. Mulder. I didn't
know...in the dream, this wasn't how it happened." He shoved his thumb
and forefinger into his eyes in a vain effort to staunch the flow; the tears
rolled through anyway.
//Kyle. My friend...and it's funny in a way, but I didn't even realize
until now how much of a friend you truly are. Kyle, take care of Scully
for me. See that she gets back to DC - to her family. See that she's
comfortable. Taken care of. She deserves better. She deserves more.//
There was another male voice. It had to be Chea's, Mulder
reasoned, but it sounded strangely low and grumbling. Then Kyle stood
and stepped away from him, and he was left with the flat stone ceiling once
again.
Time for Mulder held no value. It could've been days, weeks or
minutes until another face came into his distorted realm of sight; a dark,
scarred face with a sad curiosity gleaming from its black eyes. Chea knelt
beside him, and he spoke in a low, slow voice: "Help me move him to the
Milk."
"Are you crazy? He's frozen solid!"
"Don't you touch him! Leave him alone!"
"Why the Milk? *What's* the Milk?"
"The Milk of the Earth. It holds the spirits of the dead. Help me
move him."
Scully's beautiful face came into view again, contorted by grief and
tears and a raw emptiness in her eyes that killed Mulder to see. A small
trickle of red ran from her left nostril and over her upper lip, but she
didn't
bother to wipe it away. She just stood, staring into his iced eyes until one
of the wool blankets was dropped over him and the world became a shroud
of darkness.
The sensation of movement was non-existent. He couldn't feel
anything. And still somehow, Mulder knew that he was being carried.
There were feet scuffs and a wavering mixture of voices and grunts, but
nothing that made much sense to him any more. He felt himself fading;
dislodging from the self that had died without him.
The blackness evaporated and the soft glow of the fading sunset filled
him with warmth. The ceiling refracted the light, shining and glowing with
it. And Mulder found it getting closer. Much closer. He was floating up,
caught in the heated breeze from outside the cave. Drifting. Above.
And with no effort at all, he was able to twist himself around and
look down over the heads of the people in the room. Scully stood at the lip
of the basin, her arms holding Mulder's frozen, wrapped head as they
lowered him into the white liquid. Chea and Kyle held the rest of him, both
stepping into the pool in order to keep him from dropping completely in.
They held the body with such care.
Mulder could see the anguish on Scully's face as his dead self was
lowered into the pool. There was no doubt of her pain - he felt it, too.
The loss. The emptiness. The overwhelming need to touch her and kiss
her and hold her in his arms. He wished he could cry for them, as she was,
just to vent some of the rage of having the world balanced so promising on
his fingertips. Scully had been so right on that evening Melissa had died.
There was no justice.
He could see in her heart that she was thinking it again.
Not far behind her, Megan held Taam tightly. Both were quietly crying
and watching the scene unfold, just as Mulder was, with a mixture of
horror and hope.
//What do they expect to happen?// It wasn't like they were going to
be able to save him. Hardly. None of the other people had been
successfully thawed and returned to life.
The pool boiled with fat, angry bubbles the moment his frozen form
touched the surface. It was odd to see himself that way, dead and covered.
More surreal than it had been in New Mexico only a few years before. So
long ago...
When Scully's hands were completely submerged, the liquid around
her wrists became alive with a boil that startled her. She yelped and fell
backwards, hitting the floor hard with her back. Her hands were held out
from her body, and she stared wildly at them. Large, uncontrolled tremors
racked her body. "My god..."
Megan was beside her in an instant, helping her to sit up and
inspecting her palms. The previously ragged burns melted in front of their
eyes, leaving large layers of white flaking skin. Then the dead skin dried
and fell from her hands leaving pink, raw flesh in their place. But the new
skin was smooth and healthy, free from blemishes.
"Holy flaming cow!"
"Is she okay?"
"She's better than okay!"
"Quick!" Scully's face came to life. "Taam, put your hand in the
pool!"
The girl stood stone-still, tear tracks lining her confused face. She
looked from Scully to her teacher for guidance.
"Huus ne Kilje haern gaan se!" Chea's words were excited. He
smiled broadly at his student and coaxed her to the pool with a nod of his
head. Slowly she responded with an uncertain stride, and knelt down to
dip her injured hand into the liquid. Just as it had with Scully, the
bubbles
rose to the surface and when she pulled her wrapped hand out, Megan
carefully removed the bandages and dead skin. Taam bent her fingers in
wonder and whispered her awe.
"She says the pain is gone," Chea translated for the group.
And then, disrupting his view of the room, from out of no where, a
powerful wind caught the wisp of Mulder and spun him around and
around. The floor and ceiling dipped and churned, and it was impossible
for him to right himself. He was spinning out of control, with no clear
direction. And then, all at once he slammed into the pool of milky water
and the world became quiet and still once more.
End of 12/17