Manassas-Part 3/7
Summary and disclaimers in Part 1

*****

"Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a
punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly
convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any
place subject to their jurisdiction." 13th
Amendment-Ratified December 1865

*****

August 21, 1862
Virginia Countryside Between 
Centreville and the Anderson Farm

Traveling at night in 1862 was no easy feat. There were no
street lamps to guide the way, and there were no headlights
from other cars. In fact, the only light Scully could see
came from the two lanterns attached to the sides of the
carriage. And the stars. Wow, were there a lot of stars! 

The trip back to the farm was taking much longer than the
one to Centreville, as the horses had to move slower because
of the dark. General Parker had invited both Scully and
Maddie to stay at his house for the night, but Maddie was
insistent they go home. Parker agreed, but only if they
allowed an escort. Maddie's son, Rich, had only a three-day
pass and had to return to his men further south, so Parker
asked Rollins to accompany them home. He would stay the
night at the Anderson farm, then continue on to Pope's camp
the next morning. The General rode his horse quietly next to
the carriage, occasionally putting in a word here and there
as Maddie kept up her usual chatter. Scully also found his
eyes on her more than once. Shadowed as it was in the dim
light from the lanterns, she couldn't read his expression.

Suddenly, the night noises around them became silent. Maddie
quieted, obviously feeling, as Scully did, that something
was not right. A loud, high-pitched howl emanated from the
trees off to their right, and another one echoed it from the
left. Soon, the carriage seemed surrounded by the eerie
noise. Rollins drew his pistol, his horse dancing nervously
underneath him, and Jonah pulled the carriage horses to a
stop and began looking around with a fearful expression.
Scully realized she was listening to the infamous Rebel
Yell.

A crash sounded off to the left, and Rollins swung his horse
back and around to shoot into the darkness. Almost
immediately, a rifle shot followed from the other side.
Rollins grunted in pain, dropping his pistol and grabbing
his right shoulder with his left hand. The movement spooked
his horse, and the gelding reared up, lost his balance, and
stumbled, half falling onto his side. He didn't go all the
way down, but it was enough to dislodge his rider, who
tumbled to the ground. The horse rose and galloped off.

Scully jumped from the carriage and rushed to Rollins' side.
He was trying to sit up, still holding his shoulder. Scully
kneeled beside him, moved his hand away from the wound, and
placed her own hands on it; it was bleeding profusely.
Scully stared at the blood seeping past her fingers. 'My
God,' she thought. 'This is no dream!' The yelling had
stopped, both the Rebel soldiers' and Maddie and Jonah's,
who had been hollering at Scully to stay in the carriage.
For a while, all she could hear was the beating of her own
heart and the rush of blood in her ears. 

The sound of a horse behind her caused her to tense up.
Rollins looked up and past her to whoever was there, fear
and anger mixing with the pain in his eyes. The horse
stopped almost directly behind Scully.

"Well, General. Looks like your reflexes aren't what they
used to be," a deep voice drawled from behind her. Despite
the rich Virginian accent, Scully recognized it almost
immediately. She knew that voice as well as her own. "But,
of course," it continued, "I'd probably be a little slow to
respond, too, if I had this lovely vision to distract me."

Scully slowly turned her head and looked up. He sat his
horse like he had been born in the saddle, with his arms
casually crossed over the pommel, and he was slouching, as
if he had just woken up from a nap. But despite his relaxed
appearance, Scully noted a tenseness that told her he was
ready for anything. The rifle that lay across his lap was
within easy reach, as was the pistol at his side. He wore a
threadbare uniform, a dirty gray in color, with yellow
piping, and his hair was long, his face unshaven. A battered
gray ostrich plume decorated his hat. But his eyes, which
were almost glowing in the lamplight, were the same. 

Mulder.

She felt the urge to laugh, to jump up and tell him to get
off the horse before it moved and he fell off. To tell him
that she had had enough of this game and wanted to go home.
The blood seeping through her fingers as she held Rollins'
shoulder was far too real for a dream, so this must be some
big practical joke. Everyone in her life must be in on it.
She felt tears well up in her eyes, but she refused to let
them fall. What the hell was she going to do now? 

"You have something I want, Rollins," the horseman said.

Rollins shook his head. "I have nothing. I'm simply
escorting these women back to their home. Tomorrow, I'm
heading back to my command. That is all."

'Mulder' looked at Maddie. "Mrs. Anderson. Lovely evening
for a party, isn't it?"

Maddie nodded, her expression blank. "Colonel. Yes, it is a
lovely evening."

"Helped any slaves to Canada lately?" he continued. He
glanced at Jonah, who sent him a glare full of venom.

Scully looked at Maddie, who had lowered her eyes at the
question. So that was her secret. She helped runaway slaves.
Not a very safe job to have, especially in a slave state.
She must be part of the legendary Underground Railroad, and
that was why Wade had wanted to thank her. The more trouble
the slaves caused in the south, the more the south was
weakened. For months now, the Confederacy had been demanding
that they were NOT fighting for slavery, but for states
rights. The slaves, and Scully, knew better. This war would
end up being all about slavery.

Scully turned to look at Rollins. Even in the dim light, she
could tell he was getting pale. She turned to look up at
'Mulder'. "Look, Colonel. This man needs medical attention.
Could we have this little 'pow wow' some other time?"

His eyes met hers. "Pow wow? What do you know of pow wows?"

Oops. "I'm from Minnesota."

He nodded, and Scully breathed in a sigh of relief.
Minnesota was still part of the Frontier, and Sioux Indians
still resided there. 

"Miss, I'd like it a great deal if you would move away from
the General and step back over to your carriage. Please."
His voice was pleasant sounding enough, but she detected the
hint of steel underneath. 

She looked at Rollins, who nodded to her. He placed his hand
on his shoulder again, which was bleeding much less now, and
Scully stood. She glanced off behind Rollins and spotted the
pistol, which he had dropped in his fall. It was too far to
try to reach it. And even if she did, what then? She wasn't
about to shoot Mulder...again. She walked over to stand
beside the carriage, noticing as she did the shapes of other
horses and riders standing just outside the circle of light
the lanterns produced.

'Mulder' dismounted, then strode over to Rollins, his stride
loose-limbed and lazy. He extended his arm down toward the
wounded man. "The papers, Rollins. Then I'll let you and the
ladies go."

"What papers?" Rollins' voice was getting weak.

'Mulder' reached down, grabbed Rollins' right arm, and
jerked him forward, causing the General to wince in pain.
"I'll have those papers now, General." His voice had become
dark, as it only did when he was very angry. Scully had
rarely heard it that way. She felt a shiver run up her back. 

Rollins continued to glare at the soldier for a while
longer, then he reached into his uniform jacket with his
good arm and pulled out a leather packet. 'Mulder' took it
from him and stepped back a bit. He opened the packet and
pulled out several papers. Slowly, he walked toward the
carriage, toward the light it provided. Toward Scully.

He stopped next to the lantern, reading intently. A small
smile became visible, even through his beard. Scully felt
her gaze fix on his lower lip, her heart thumping wildly in
her chest. He was close enough for her to feel his body
heat. She breathed in. He smelled of horses, leather, fresh
air, and a hint of tobacco. Nothing familiar. But underneath
it all, she smelled Mulder, and that scent was more than
familiar. She felt his gaze on her and looked up. He was
staring at her in a way Mulder rarely did. Slowly, his eyes
moved downward, raking her body from head to toe. She
shivered. He saw it. His smile widened. Slowly, he backed
away.

Without a word, he moved back to his horse and mounted. He
tucked the papers in his own jacket and looked back down at
Rollins. "General. It was a pleasure seeing you again." He
looked at the carriage. "Jonah. Mrs. Anderson." He touched
the brim of his hat. He made eye contact with Scully again.
"Ma'am. I surely do hope we meet again."

Scully stayed silent, but her eyes never left his.

As he started to turn his horse, Rollins called out to him.
"Stanton!"

Scully felt herself start in surprise. This was Stanton?

He had turned back to look at Rollins. The General was
trying to stand. "Wade knows you're here."

Scully saw how Stanton's body stiffened at that name, and
she almost felt the hatred emanate from him. He nodded
stiffly at Rollins, then spurred his horse into a gallop.
Three other men set off after him. Scully felt herself sag
against the carriage. She looked at Maddie, who had also
drooped in relief, then she set about helping Jonah get
Rollins into the carriage. 

Within the hour, they were back at the Anderson farm. Scully
had cleaned and wrapped Rollins' shoulder and gotten herself
ready for bed. But it was a long time before she was able to
sleep.

************************************************************

"May God have mercy on General Lee, for I will have none."
Joe Hooker-Spring 1863

*****

August 25, 1999
Manassas National Battlefield Park

One week. 

It had been a full week since Scully's disappearance. And
still nothing. The Bureau hadn't given up; they still had
agents working on the case full time. Even Nikky Harper had
been questioned by more than one agent in the hopes that he
had an accomplice who knew where Scully was. Mulder hadn't
been allowed to talk to him. Skinner feared he would become
too aggressive in his questioning. Mulder didn't argue; he
would like nothing more than to pound Nikky's nose in. Even
if he wasn't quite convinced the man had anything to do with
Scully.

He hadn't worked on anything else since the incident at the
Battlefield. It was like her abduction several years
earlier, only worse. He had cared for Scully then, had begun
to realize at the time that he loved her, but it was more
than that now. He was still convinced she was still alive,
but that was no guarantee that she wasn't suffering or
scared, or that he would ever see her again. He had taken to
sitting in the dark at home, meditating, every night. Hoping
something would happen that would tell him where she was.
Hoping their connection was that strong. But other than some
strange dreams, he had felt nothing. 

The dreams were his only hope, but they were vague, unclear.
He always awoke feeling terrified and exhilarated at the
same time, with the remnants of explosions, strange yelling
and the smell of gunpowder in his mind. 

He had the Gunmen working on their own investigation. He
hadn't had to ask, as they had been more than willing. All
three of them had come to care for Scully in their own way.
But they, too, had come up with nothing.

Mulder had visited the Battlefield every day. The Park
Rangers knew him by name and watched him with sad eyes.
Mulder hated it, but he knew he must be a pathetic sight.
His searches always brought him to the tree.

Today it was hot out, and Mulder had already ditched his
jacket and tie, leaving them in the car. He stood in the
shade of the trees with his shirt sleeves rolled up gazing
around at nothing. Why did he keep coming here? It was
almost as if he was 'called' here, but he had yet to figure
out why. As he had many times in the past week, he lowered
himself to the ground and leaned back against the tree. He
closed his eyes, listening to the occasional bird and the
chirping of the insects in the grass.

He never heard the man approach, but he sensed him
nonetheless. Slowly, he opened his eyes. An old man stood
staring down at him.

"You won't find her, you know."

Mulder jumped up, coming face to face with the man, his eyes
wild. "How do you know?" he demanded.

The man was completely calm, undisturbed by Mulder's
reaction to his words. "She is in a place that no one can
reach from here. If she was lucky enough to have survived
the journey; not many do."

"What the hell are you talking about? Who are you?"

"I work here. Have for years. I've seen it happen before."

"You've seen what happen?" Mulder was getting desperate. He
leaned into the smaller man, hoping his size and anger would
intimidate him. 

It didn't. "The Time Surge."

"The what?"

"Time Surge. At least that's what my father called it. He
worked here before me. He saw it happen a few times as
well."

Mulder took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts
together in the wake of this man's confusing words. "Where
is she?" He lowered his voice, angry now.

The man seemed to finally understand the dangerous position
he was in. "You mean 'when' is she, don't you?"

Mulder stepped back, startled into silence.

"I'm not sure when, every surge is different. They only
happen during very powerful storms, and only in this group
of trees. I know of only one person who returned, and he has
since died, but he ended up in the 1700's." His craggy face
lit up with a huge grin. "He said he had nearly been scalped
by Indians!"

Mulder's mind was racing. "Are you trying to tell me that my
partner has gone back in time?" He didn't know why he had a
hard time believing this, as he himself had done something
similar last year. He watched as the old man nodded, the
grin still on his face. "Why are you just now telling me
this?"

"I don't tell everybody what I know," he said. "I'd end up
in the loony bin. But you seemed so sad. I've seen you here
every day since she was taken. I kept my fingers crossed
that you would believe me." He looked down. "Only, Bradley
said it wasn't really like 'history'. He met people he knew
in this time while he was there. People that he felt
couldn't really have existed back then."

Mulder nodded. That had been what had happened to him.
Skinner, Cancer Man, Spender, Kersh and of course Scully,
had all been there in his 'surge'. But in order to get home,
he simply had to leave the ship he had been on. This
'surge', this alternate universe portal, must have a
different source of power. "You said your friend made it
back alive. How?"

"It was quite simple, actually. He simply had to want to
come home." 

Mulder stared at him for a while, then he started laughing.
"Oh, I see! So all Scully has to do is click her heels
together and say 'There's no place like home'?"

The old man shook his head. "Nothing so silly. She just has
to convey to whoever is in control that she wants to come
home."

"And who exactly is in control?" Mulder was finding it hard
to get his breath back.

The old man didn't say a word, he just smiled and pointed
skyward.

To Mulder, this was a gesture usually reserved for pointing
out aliens, but he had a feeling that wasn't what the man
was talking about. Mulder looked up, past the swaying
branches of the trees, to the blue sky above. And he prayed
to a god he wasn't sure he believed in to bring Scully back
to him...alive. 

************************************************************

"Let us cross over the river and rest under the shade of the
trees." Stonewall Jackson's dying words-May 1863

*****

August 26, 1862
Anderson Farm
Near Manassas Junction, Virginia

On August 25th, General Lee split his army, sending General
Jackson north while he and General Longstreet remained
camped on the Rappahannock River. Lee had hoped that Pope,
who was watching him, would follow Jackson. But Pope, who
was never considered to be the most intelligent of men,
ignored Jackson, not seeing him as a threat, and kept his
full attention on Longstreet. That was his first mistake.

Jackson and his men arrived at Manassas Plain, just seven
miles from the Junction, on August 26. He sent J.E.B.
Stuart, his commander of cavalry, to capture the Junction.
Stuart succeeded.

Scully was completely unaware of the drama unfolding so
close by. She was too busy trying to find a way home. Maddie
continued to treat her as a guest, never questioning how
long she planned to stay. Scully assumed that Maddie
believed she was too frightened to try and travel back to
Washington with both armies so near. Scully let her believe
this. During the day, she helped Maddie with the chores. In
early evening, before the sun set, Scully took long walks
around the area, trying to find where she had last KNOWN she
was in 1999. There had to be a way back. But she had found
nothing. And twice now, at night, she had helped Maddie,
Jonah and Alfred as they fed and re-supplied runaway slaves
who were on their way farther north. They had to reach
Canada to reach freedom. The Fugitive Slave Law did not
allow safety even in free states. If caught, they must be
returned south. Scully knew President Lincoln would get rid
of that law with the passing of the Emancipation
Proclamation, but that wouldn't pass until January 1863,
several months from now.

General Rollins had only stayed for a day recovering from
his shoulder wound, then he had ridden out to rejoin Pope's
men. During his stay, he had told Scully the papers that
Stanton had taken had been orders from Wade to Pope about
the assault on Richmond. Rollins himself hadn't been sure
what exactly they had contained, only that Wade did not want
anyone but Pope to see them. Scully had asked him why Pope
was taking orders from Wade when Pope was supposedly in
charge of the Union Army. Rollins shook his head sadly and
said, "Lincoln can't find any General who isn't afraid of
Wade except for McClellan, who Lincoln does not get along
with. And Lincoln WILL NOT put Wade in charge; he's too
smart for that."

"Why is everyone so afraid of Wade?"

"He's a powerful man with a lot of money and a lot of
influence in Washington. But not everyone is afraid of him.
Lee isn't. And neither is Stanton."

When Scully asked about Stanton, trying to be casual about
it, he said only that the Colonel had once been a student of
his at West Point. His best student. "If Lee, Stuart and
Stanton had all stayed with the Union, this war would be
over," he said. "Lincoln has got to find a General willing
to fight."

"What about you?"

Rollins laughed, but there was no humor in it. "My dear, I
think you overestimate my position in the chain of command.
There are many generals, but only a few are really born to
lead whole armies. Though there is a general out west that
might manage to lead these men to victory."

Scully tensed. "Who?"

"A man named Grant."

Scully resisted the urge to smile. Rollins knew his stuff
after all. Every American worth their salt in her time knew
Grant would indeed be the general who would fight Lee with
persistence and win this war. 

Rollins had ridden out the next day, his arm strapped
loosely in a sling. Scully was sorry to see him go and
wondered if he would survive the war.

On the afternoon of the 26th, Scully caught her first sight
of Confederate troops. A large force of mounted soldiers
could be seen in the distance, kicking up dust as they
moved. A neighbor boy arrived about an hour later with news
that Stuart had captured Manassas Junction with his cavalry.
Stuart and his cavalry were already legends. They literally
ran circles around their enemies, proving that they not only
knew the lay of the land far better, but that they were far
better horsemen as well. 

Scully found herself constantly looking in the direction of
the Junction, knowing that Stanton was most likely back with
the rest of the cavalry, back with his commander, Stuart.
She shook her head ruefully at one point. Who would have
thought that she, who had always been a supporter of human
rights, would find herself attracted to a Confederate
soldier? Even in 1999, many people considered the
Confederate flag a symbol of slavery and its horrors.

But then again, who would have thought Mulder, who was
probably even more against racism than she herself was,
would appear as a Confederate soldier? Scully had to remind
herself that most of the southern soldiers that fought had
never owned a slave in their life. They were fighting
because they believed in the principle of 'states rights'.
Later, when Lincoln finally freed the slaves, these same
soldiers would continue fighting simply because their
'homeland' was being invaded. In a way, they truly believed
THEY were fighting for freedom.

Later that night, Scully found herself laying in bed
listening carefully to the night sounds. Maddie wasn't
expecting any 'visitors' tonight, but with the Confederate
army so close by, Scully was nervous. She had grown up
believing the Confederacy was the enemy; the wrong side. She
feared them. Or was it something, or someone, different that
she feared?

She dozed for a bit, then woke suddenly. There were horsemen
outside. She jumped out of the bed and pulled on a thin
dressing gown over her long nightgown. Barefoot, she exited
the room and moved quietly down the stairs. Maddie was
already in the parlor, looking cautiously out the front
window. Jonah and Alfred, who shared a cabin with Jonah's
aged father on the far side of the barn, stood on the porch,
rifles in hand, ready to guard their mistress with their
life. About thirty horsemen stood in the yard, some carrying
torches to light their way, all of them in gray.

"Well, well. Looks like we have some loyal niggers
protecting their home," a man near the front called out.
"Where are your owners, boy?" he asked Alfred.

"We own ourselves," Alfred replied, his chin raised.

"Oh, really?" the man continued sarcastically. "Well, we
could change that. We need a couple more hands on that
latrine detail, don't we, Sergeant?" He looked at the man
behind him.

Maddie had had enough. She rushed out of the house, Scully
close on her heels. "I will not let you make slaves of free
men!" she demanded as she got to the porch.

Alfred immediately moved to put himself between her and the
bad-tempered soldier. "Now, Missus. You get back inside. Let
me and Jonah take care of this."

"I will not!" Maddie argued. "I've heard them do this
elsewhere. Take free men and force them to work." She
directed her gaze past Alfred to the man. "It's men like you
that make me ashamed to be a Virginian!"

Scully had to agree. All the bad things she had ever
imagined about the southern soldier were exhibited in this
man. Her fingers twitched; she wished she had her weapon.
But it, along with her cell-phone, had disappeared when she
entered this world.

"Why you little..." Scully was sure the soldier would have
continued, but a commanding voice from the other side of the
yard stopped him in mid-sentence.

"Mitchell!"

The men, who until now had been silent, began to murmur
among themselves. Two horsemen rode through the group and
stopped next to the man named Mitchell. One was unfamiliar.
He wore the rank of Major General. Like most of his men, he
had a full beard and mustache, his hair slightly long in the
back, his hat pulled low on his head. Scully took a guess
that this was James Ewell Brown 'Jeb' Stuart.

The man next to him was familiar. Stanton. 

"Mitchell, I know you're tired and hungry. We all are. But
that is no reason to treat a respected member of this
community with contempt." His voice was hard, and it was
obvious Mitchell wasn't about to argue with his commander.
Stuart turned to Maddie and Scully. "Ladies. We apologize
for our late visit, but we are in need of all the supplies
you can give us." He said it politely, but Scully knew that
it was not a request. He and his men would take what they
needed, leaving little for Maddie and her neighbors.

Stuart turned to the men, and with a sigh, nodded. The men
immediately dismounted and began to swarm around the
farmyard. Stuart again turned to Maddie. "I am sorry, Mrs.
Anderson." Then he turned his horse away from the house.
"Stanton. Look after the men. Make sure no hot-head gets
overzealous and burns the barn down."

Stanton gave him a snappy salute. "Yes, sir."

Stuart saluted more tiredly in reply, then rode away from
the farm, several aides following.

Scully followed Stuart with her eyes, a chill snaking along
her backbone. She looked at the tall man still on his horse
in front of her. He was watching her, his eyes dark. She,
Maddie and the others had just been left in the charge of
one Colonel Stanton.  

Scully didn't know whether to be grateful...or terrified.

*****

End 3/7

    Source: geocities.com/virtuesandvices