Genesis
Ally

Chapter 12

"Agent Scully?" The familiar voice, although his words spoken from some distance away, were enough to rouse Scully instantly out of sleep. Her eyes snapped open immediately, and she guiltily raised her head from it's position on Mulder's bed, eyeing her superior warily as she did so. He was standing, fully gowned and protected, just inside the door that led to a small anteroom off Mulder's room.

"What time is it?"

"Just after eleven." His eyes flicked to take in Mulder, a frown creasing his brow as he recognised immediately the seriousness of his condition.

He had not expected to be confronted by this, although Scully had furnished him with only scant details of Mulder's admittance to the hospital, and now he felt at a loss as to what to say in response to the sight in front of him.

He chose to concentrate instead on Scully, who in truth, wasn't looking much better than her partner, and it was clear to Skinner that she was exhausted despite all her attempts to hide the fact.

"How's he doing?" he asked.

"It's not looking good," she replied heavily. "They have him on an aggressive anti-viral treatment, but it seems to be having little or no effect, and without a definitive diagnosis it's proving impossible to find a way forward. I'm waiting for the results on the Tox screen. Maybe then we'll have a clearer idea as to what we're dealing with and an avenue of treatment."

"And you?"

Scully looked puzzled. "Sir?" she queried uncertainly.

Skinner gestured in front of him. "I mean how are you doing, Agent Scully."

"Oh. I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." He narrowed his eyes, "When did you last sleep? I mean adequately?"

Scully considered lying, but quickly dismissed the notion. Like Mulder, Skinner had the uncanny knack of recognising when his Agents were being less than straight with him. It was easier simply to tell the truth and to subsequently plead her case.

"Two days ago, before we flew out." She admitted, uncomfortably aware of his unwavering gaze.

He nodded curtly, not surprised in the slightest by her admission, and without hesitating, he curled his finger, beckoning her to join him.

"Come here."

Sighing, Scully complied, easing herself up from her seated position by Mulder's bed and crossed the room to where Skinner stood. He pulled her into the room and scrutinised her, arms crossed before finally pulling her coat down from where she had hung it earlier in the day.

"Here."

She made no move to take it and Skinner recognised the set determination on her face. Nevertheless he stood his ground.

"Take it."

"Where are we going?" she asked warily.

"You need to sleep, but first you're going to tell me just what the hell's been happening here. You can do that on the way back to your motel. Now move."

Scully shook her head defiantly. "I'd rather stay."

"I don't care what you'd rather do, Agent Scully, because what I'm telling you is that you're coming with me. Right now."

His voice softened slightly as she turned her stricken statement back to her partner and he rested his hand lightly on the back of her neck.

"He's not going anywhere and you need to take care of yourself."

His words had the desired effect, and she nodded slowly, the movement only barely perceptible beneath his touch, and he dropped his hand away. Scully lifted her head slightly.

"Can you give me a minute?"

Skinner did not need to question the reasons behind her request, nor did he deny her the time alone with her partner that she obviously needed.

"I'll see you outside, Okay?"

Scully didn't turn around, but instead turned around and re-entered Mulder's room. On reaching his bed she leant forward and brought her lips to Mulder's forehead, tasting the salt on his burning skin as she remained there, eyes closed, as if transferring her strength in to him, willing him to fight, to come back to her.

She eventually straightened up, tenderly brushing the fallen strands of hair away from his face and letting her fingers trace the line of his jaw. Her medical training told her that he couldn't possibly hear her, but she felt compelled to give him some kind of reassurance that she wasn't deserting him.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I'll be back soon Okay?"

She was aware of the tears which filled her eyes but blinked them back before they could escape their confines, knowing that to show weakness now would only serve to enervate her position with Skinner. So instead, she drew herself up to her full height, and without a backward glance, proceeded out of the room where her superior waited patiently for her.

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

E-Z 8 Motel. Route 49, San Diego. 1:40p.m.

Skinner had insisted on stopping at a small diner on route to the Motel where he had disappeared for a few minutes, leaving Scully in the car. She had been dozing on and off for most of the journey and Skinner surmised that if he were to reasonably expect her to recount the details that had led her and Mulder here, he first had to ensure she at least made an attempt to put some nourishment inside her.

He had returned to the car and placed a brown take-out bag in her hands, not speaking as she closed her eyes, savouring the mouth watering scents of the toasted cheese sandwiches and home-made soup it contained.

On their arrival back at the Motel he had insisted that they eat first, talk later.

And to his surprise Scully had not only acceded to his request, but had finished everything he had placed in front of her without question.

Finally when he was satisfied, he inclined his head to indicate she should start. Skinner had absorbed Scully's narrative without question, allowing her to furnish him with the facts and events that had led up to Mulder's current condition. As thorough as always, despite her fatigue, she left nothing out, and she was aware of how crazy her story sounded, even to herself.

On the occasions she allowed herself to glance across to her superior, she saw nothing in his statement that suggested anything other than a deep scepticism for her words. She got the uncomfortable feeling that as she heard the desperation in her voice, that she was beginning to sound like Mulder.

Skinner sat opposite her, loosely holding the case file in his hands, as he listened to her and for a considerable length of time after she had finished, did not speak. Finally though he raised his head.

"So let me get this straight." He held up the photograph of Charlotte Stevens. "You're telling me that this is your child?"

Scully sighed. "Biologically, yes."

"And there have been others?"

Scully had also related to him for the first time the events that had transpired over eighteen months ago: her discovery and subsequent loss of Emily. She was painfully aware that in not sharing the information with him sooner, she had broken just about every rule of protocol in existence. Her only saving grace was that the case had officially fallen when she was on leave, but even so, she had been acting under the jurisdiction of the Federal Government, and she knew that the excuse was flimsy at best.

The decision not to involve any higher authorities had been hers alone, and although she was aware that Mulder had an X-File sequestered somewhere deep in his filing system, her partner had not questioned her decision to bury the case.

He had appreciated the fact that, in reality, the decision had been hers to make, and also that to investigate it further would only serve to cause her more damage.

That all seemed immaterial now though.

The damage had already been done, and not just to her.

"Yes."

"Well, what are we talking about here, Scully?" Skinner barked harshly. "One? . . . ten? . . . more?"

"I don't know, sir. Maybe hundreds."

"And you have no insight in to who's behind it?"

Scully leveled her tired gaze at Skinner. She didn't want to be doing this right now, especially without Mulder by her side, but she knew that Skinner needed answers in order to help them, and painful though it was to furnish him with the details, she had to keep a hold of herself. It was becoming more of a challenge by the second as a combination of guilt, worry and numbing fatigue threatened to turn inwards. But Scully knew that to succumb would be disastrous, not least because Skinner would have her on the next flight back to Washington or worse, would temporarily relieve her of her duties until such time as he felt she could cope with the rigours of the job.

She forced herself to remain coolly professional as she answered him.

"We found connections to a pharmaceutical company called Pramgen. A man named Calderone was working out of the facility and apparently in sole charge of Emily's treatment. He refused to speak to us and so Agent Mulder surveilled him, following him to a private rest home for the care of the elderly. Once inside he found evidence of a massive cover up. He also discovered the identity of Emily's birth mother."

Skinner raised his eyebrows as Scully continued.

"She was a seventy-nine year old woman named Anna Fugasi. And she wasn't the only one. We turned up conclusive proof that out of the twelve women in the facility, nine were listed as having given birth during the previous three years, six to healthy baby girls, three to boys."

"And you're maintaining that these children are genetically yours?"

"Yes. Mulder found charts that contained, amongst other things, my name and dates which corresponded to my being taken. A time when the procedures were performed on me that would render me unable to conceive, a time when the creation of these children was already in progress . . ."

She trailed off as she saw the statement on Skinner's face.

"I know how crazy it must sound," she admitted quietly.

Skinner shook his head. "Aside from the obvious, Agent Scully, what I'm having a hard time with, is why you didn't come to me with this information earlier. Why you and Agent Mulder chose to withhold such a potentially serious set of circumstances, and why even when news of a second child was brought to your attention, you still saw fit to come down here with essentially no backup and no support." He paused then, all too aware that in the past he had often given them cause to leave him in the dark, but after everything that he'd done for them, he had hoped that they no longer felt they had to go behind his back.

Giving them free reign on the X-Files was one thing. Allowing them to risk their lives was something else altogether.

"Why didn't you come to me? I could have helped you," he said softly.

"We couldn't," Scully replied. "We had no evidence. Whoever was behind it had made sure of that. Within hours of Emily's death, whatever connections there might have been had been erased. We had nothing to support our findings and no one to corroborate our story. Who would have believed us?"

"I would," stated Skinner flatly.

Scully shook her head. "Would you?" she challenged softly, forcing Skinner to drop his eyes guiltily, as he realised that in all probability, he would have used the same arguments for not pursuing the case as Scully had just cited, lack of evidence.

"With all due respect, sir," she went on, "Even if by some miracle you had taken us seriously, what could you have done? Gone to the Director and requested a full investigation? You'd have been laughed out of the building. And believe me, Agent Mulder and I both know what that feels like. Going public with what we'd uncovered would have achieved nothing other than to draw even more attention to ourselves, and possibly even mark the total cessation of the project, a plot to bury the truth so deeply that it would never be uncovered."

Skinner considered her words carefully, comprehending her reasoning, and if he was totally honest, he would have to admit that everything she said was true. He sighed heavily, noting, not for the first time how pale and tired she appeared. He suspected she was hanging on by the barest thread right now, and one Agent in the hospital was quite enough for him without driving another one down the same path.

Nevertheless, he needed to know one more thing.

"And the situation with Agent Mulder?"

Scully took a deep breath before answering, knowing that she was about to voice some serious allegations with nothing to back them up.

"I believe that Agent Mulder has been exposed to some kind of outside influence that has resulted in an unknown illness, an illness that cannot be identified, and which is I believe, a direct result of our involvement in this case. Someone, somewhere doesn't want us here, and they will eliminate anything that gets in their way. Including us."

An statement of alarm briefly crossed Skinner's face.

"If that's the case, Agent Scully, then you're as much at risk as Agent Mulder, and shouldn't be here." He waved his hand vaguely around the room. "You should be in protective custody until we determine just what the hell is going on here, and you should let someone else handle this case."

Scully got to her feet, a sudden vision of her partner, lying prone and lifeless in his hospital bed flashing unbidden in to her mind, and not for the first time she wondered just how much of the responsibility for his condition lay at her feet. She owed him more than simply hiding away at the first sign of trouble, and if she never convinced Skinner of anything else again, she had to make him understand.

"I appreciate your concern, sir, but I can't do that." Skinner opened his mouth to argue, but Scully held up her hand, determined to say her piece.

"This is not a case that you can just hand off to another Agent and expect to get to the truth," she said desperately. "And with Agent Mulder in the hospital, there isn't anyone qualified to handle the investigation other than me. If I walk away now, then they'll just start to bury it all over again. I can't allow that to happen. Not now. Not when I have a second chance to find these men, to make them accountable for their actions."

Her eyes pleaded with Skinner to come to the right decision, needing him to understand that to remove her from the case would be the worst possible determination he could ever make. She also knew that despite her respect for her superior Agent, if he were to make an unfavourable judgement, she would disregard him and go her own way. The consequences for such actions would be severe, but she would face that eventuality only when the time came, so it was with a palpable feeling of relief when Skinner finally nodded slightly, regarding her through narrowed eyes.

"All right, Agent Scully. Against my better judgement I will allow you to pursue this case. However, for the remainder of today, I don't want to see your face. You have to promise me you'll try to get some sleep and then we'll begin again in the morning, Okay?"

Scully nodded gratefully, prepared to agree to his conditions, to reach the compromise in order to remain on the case.

"I promise." she whispered, both grateful and touched by his almost fatherly concern.

She watched as he rose to his feet and picked up his topcoat.

"Where will you be?" she asked.

Skinner paused. "I'm going to need to speak to Agent Wickham. I need a full background on this Stevens woman and her daughter. When I'm finished there I'll be at the hospital with Mulder. I'll phone you."

He crossed over to the door, but instead of opening it, he turned back to face her. "I meant to ask you something."

"Sir?"

Skinner coughed awkwardly.

"When I pulled up Mulder's personnel record to contact his next of kin regarding his current condition, I saw that you are listed. Why is that? Why not his mother?"

Scully swallowed, torn between her duty to answer, and a loyalty towards her partner's personal life. She settled on the safest option.

"I'm not sure about the details, only that Agent Mulder has become estranged from his mother. He asked me some months ago if I would be willing to be listed and I agreed. Why? Is that a problem?"

Skinner shook his head quickly.

"It's an unusual situation, Scully, but no, it's not a problem. I was just curious."

He once again reached for the door handle.

"Anyway, I'll see you later. I'll be on my cell if you need me."

He didn't wait for a response, just left and closed the door quietly behind him, leaving Scully perched on the edge of the bed. Wearily she got to her feet and closed the drapes, blocking out the California sunshine and returned to the bed. She was so tired she felt as though she could sleep for a year, and after pulling back the covers, she lowered her fatigued body on to the cool, crisp sheet.

The fact that she was still fully clothed seemed like a mere technicality, although she did pause for long enough to kick off her shoes before sinking her head in to the softness of the pillow and closing her eyes. Sleep came almost immediately, and she relaxed, unaware of the hostile eyes that watched her from across the forecourt, assisted in no small way by the high powered binoculars held up to them.

The man had cursed when she had pulled the drapes across, but had quickly chided himself. He knew she was in there. He knew she was alone. All he had to do now was wait for the order and she would be his.

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