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First of all I just want to say thank you to everyone
who is still reading this, and who has taken the time
to let me know you liked it. (Or kept your mouth shut
when you didn't:)

WARNING--temporary POV change. Please keep all hands
and arms inside the car until the end of the ride.


Chapter 18
Accountability

Black formica. 

Shiny. Surprisingly clean in a room more often swept
for bugs than dirt.

I can just make out the shadow of my reflection in the
countertop. Just see Scully's arm jerk away from the
folder. I want to tell her it won't hurt her, remember
it already has.

Black formica shows no emotion when I mention the
background check I asked the boys to run on David
Harrison. Its cool surface shows no pain when I speak
of his connection, hidden but undeniable, to Rousch. I
don't have to look at the drawn pained expression in
its eyes when I briefly describe the evidence of tests
I found in Lauren's medical records.

Black formica supports me as I slide Lauren's X-ray
film in front of her. Similar in color but less
substantial, it offers her not the escape I have found
here, but proof. A stark white shadow.  The
frighteningly familiar outline of an implant, matching
the one that will tie her to this little girl, and so
many other strangers, forever.  

I had hoped to be wrong, but I had expected to be
right. Play the odds.

I consider entertaining her with theories of David's
being blackmailed into working for them, with them,
but I refuse to insult her intelligence. I know
without asking that she has already entertained and
dismissed these ideas.

I hadn't considered the possibility of his involvement
in Scully's abduction. Would I have made that
connection if she hadn't?

There is enough in the way of surveillance photos and
wiretaps for us to determine the degree to which he
orchestrated the kidnapping of his own daughter.
Unfortunately, none of it is admissable.

I always wanted to have one more day with my father.
To ask him why he made the decisions he made. To give
a man I had once loved the chance to redeem himself.
To let go of the hatred I hold for the part of myself
that is him.

Maybe that is why I feel the need to confront my
sister's husband with this information. To retrieve an
answer to questions that were asked before I was born.

There is a baser part of me that simply wants to
avenge the woman I love, and a little girl I hardly
know. But I have always been fueled more by the search
than the goal, and if he can point me in the right
direction before I kill him, then his life will not
have been wasted.

Kill him. 

I run my fingers over the ebony gloss, and notice the
tiny, invisible pits in the surface. Imperfections,
that, in a clearer medium, would distort my
reflection.

My sister has lived in the dark for so long, what
right do I have to drag her into the light?

What right did I ever think I had, to do this to
anyone?

Because of her training, I know Scully is considering
similar scenarios, running through all the possible
consequences. 

Of maybe she isn't.

Maybe she is still studying the faces of the memories
she will never again be able to erase. 

I hope that she will be able to see a way out of this,
for all of us. 

Because all I can see is black formica.