From: RJCHRISTEN@aol.com
Date: Sun, 26 Dec 1999 23:45:28 EST
Subject: SUBMISSION: Nowhere Man (1/2)
Source: direct
"Nowhere Man"
by R.J. Christensen
Disclaimer: All Characters, Situations & Concepts of The X-Files are the
Exclusive Property of Chris Carter, 10-13 Productions, & The Fox Network
& has not been used with any permission. No infringement is intended.
John Lennon Lyrics are property of Northern Songs, Ltd, currently owned
by a freak who doesn't deserve to own them.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Summary: Fox Mulder has a pair of unusual encounters with an insane
murderer...one who claims he's from the future. Or is he?
Category: Might be X-File, might be angst, definitely odd.
Rating: PG (Offscreen violence, insanity, language)
Keyword: Alternative Universes, Pre X-Files, Mulder/other...kinda
"Nowhere Man"
by R.J. Christensen
Disclaimer: All Characters, Situations & Concepts of The X-Files are the Exc
lusive Property of Chris Carter, 10-13 Productions, & The Fox Network & has
not been used with any permission. No infringement is intended. John Lennon
Lyrics are property of
Northern Songs, Ltd, currently owned by a freak who doesn't deserve to own t
hem.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Summary: Fox Mulder has a pair of unusual encounters with an insane murderer
...one who claims he's from the future. Or is he? Category: Might be X-File,=
might be angst, definitely odd.
Rating: PG (Offscreen violence, insanity, language)
Keyword: Alternative Universes, Pre X-Files, Mulder/other...kinda
----------------------------------------------------------------
NOWHERE MAN
by R.J. Christensen
Part 1/2
"He's a Real Nowhere Man,
Sitting in His Nowhere Land,
Making All His Nowhere Plans
For Nobody..."
December 10th, 1980
Yale University
Department of Psychology
Senior Psychology student Fox Mulder had closed his notebook after the
Cognitive Psychology lecture and was getting up when the professor, Dr Lewis
Hanson, motioned for him.
"Yes, Dr. Hanson? Need me to round up some more Freshman Psych students
for an experiment?"
"Oh no, Mr. Mulder. It's about your submitted selection of a Senior Pro
ject topic, the one concerning Serial Killers."
"Is it too gruesome? I have a few more ideas I could..."
The professor chuckled heartily as the room emptied of students. "No, N
o. Your topic does have significant scientific and academic merit. I just wa
nted to inform you of a possible subject to interview. You have heard about
the Chapman murder up
in New York City this last Monday night?"
Mulder puzzled for a minute, then suddenly recalled that incident. "The
guy who was shot dead in front of John Lennon's apartment building?" He had
heard it as a news blurb on NPR the preceding Tuesday morning.
"Yes, a young man...just about your age, named James Richardson pulled
out a .45 automatic and shot the unfortunate Chapman dead. And right in fron
t of Mr. Lennon & his wife."
"I heard he was an obsessed fan who had been harassing the Lennons." Mu
lder added, trying to remember the radio report through a Tuesday morning fu
zz caused by Monday Night Football, $1 beer, and a certain female Veterinary
Medicine student.
"Well, Mr. Mulder, one of the doctors examining Mr. Richardson, Dr Paul
Leone, is an old college friend of mine, and has told me about Richardson.
Even though it's just a solo murder, I thought you could use it for research
material."
"I would greatly appreciate that, Dr. Hanson!"
"Good. Just stop by my office for details..."
Enroute to New York City
December 12, 1980
8:45AM
On the train ride down to New York, Mulder read the official police rep
ort. James Reuban Richardson, age 19, Sophomore at Virginia Tech. Apprehende
d by New York City police moments after shooting 25 year old Mark David Chap
man of Honolulu, Hawaii twice with a M1911 .45 automatic pistol. The scene o
f crime was outside the Dakota Hotel where the Lennons currently lived. Both
Lennon & his wife were witnesses to the crime along with the Dakota Hotel d
oorman and three passerbys. Apparently, Mr. Lennon was so shaken by the murd
er that he had refused to come out of the building so police had to question
him at home in bed.
Mulder then read the report that the court assigned psychiatrist had pr
epared on the alleged shooter. It stated that James Richardson was a bright,=
almost brilliant, Industrial Design student with a couple of award winning
student designs and even some commercial work. And oddly, there was not one
report of previous criminal activity, not even a moving violation.
Then came the surprise. Richardson had claimed that Lennon was going to
be killed by Chapman. Mulder's eyebrows went up when Richardson's reason wa
s found; he claimed he had come back from 1996 through a dream to relive his
life from age 16 and had known Lennon was going to be killed that very nigh
t.
Intrigued, Mulder read through the rest of the reports, looking for any
link between Richardson & Chapman, but there was none. Victim Chapman was f
rom Georgia and had currently lived in Hawaii with a wife he was then separa
ted from. He had worked as a security guard, and did have a snubnose .38 rev
olver on his person, had but in fact had met Lennon earlier in the day and h
ad obtained an autograph by the musician.
Richardson had lived in Virginia since he was 12 and various military b
ases before that; absolutely no reports of any contact between him and Chapm
an. Apparently, Chapman was a ordinary, run of the mill fan of Lennon's who
picked the wrong day to come to New York City. Richardson, however, had appa
rently sent three letters to the Lennons' office claiming something bad woul
d happen that night; these were discounted by office employees as crank lett
ers. Richardson had left Virginia Tech that morning, drove straight to New Y
ork, and ended up shooting Chapman that evening. State prosecutors were pain
ting Richardson as an obsessed Beatles fan who was planning to kill John Len
non, or perhaps his wife Yoko Ono Lennon and happened to have missed.
Leaving the police reports for a copy of the New York Post, Mulder read
that the couple were so greatly shaken by the murder in front of them that
John Lennon was refusing to leave his apartment, and had cancelled all promo
tional TV appearances for the month. The recording sessions that he and Yoko
had been working on up until that fateful night were all cancelled.
Mulder was puzzled. Aside from being a white male, Richardson did not f
it any profile of a psychopathic killer. No previous treatment for mental di
sorders, no previous trouble with the law, no drug or alcohol use. Well invo
lved with school
activities; radio station, scifi club president, computer club, Engineering
societies, and did design consulting part-time. Before college, Richardson a
pparently had the perfect Norman Rockwell home, which Mulder did not have. "=
Lucky bastard..."
Mulder muttered softly.
The weapon used also peaked Mulder's interest; Richardson had used his
grandfather's Marine Corps issue .45 automatic pistol with a full eight roun
d magazine, but he only put two shots into Chapman when both Lennons were st
ill outside the building. The doorman reportedly said Richardson stopped fir
ing
after Chapman fell. If he was going to kill either of the Lennons, why leave
six rounds in the pistol?
"Guess I'll have to figure that out in my interview..."
Bellevue Psychiatric Hospital
Criminal Ward
Dec 11, 1980
10:13Am
After checking in with hospital authorities and Dr. Leone, Mulder enter
ed the cell of his subject, two New York State troopers waiting outside. Sit
ting on the floor, back up against the wall was a rather youngish man with u
nkempt hair, a beard in
the making, and round glasses, similar to what John Lennon was famous for. H
e was sadly staring off into space. "Hello, Mr. Richardson. I'm Fox Mulder w
ith the Yale University School of Psychology."
Richardson looked up, not smiling. "Well, another shrink to see the cra
zy guy? I'll say you are the youngest one so far..."
"And whoever said you were crazy, Mr. Richardson?"
"You haven't heard my story yet..." the young man sardonically replied.
"That's what I'm here for, to listen to your story."
"Well, Mr. Fox Mulder of Yale University, you probably will think I am
crazy if I tell you why I had to shoot Mark David Chapman the other night."
Mulder sat down in the sole chair in the room. "So you were never inten
ding to kill John Lennon or Yoko Ono?"
"Hell no. They never did anything to anybody to deserve that. Chapman,
however, was going to kill John Lennon, so I guess I had to do what I did...=
"
"The local TV News did say you claimed you were trying to protect Mr. L
ennon. But just how did you figure Chapman was going harm him?"
"Because he already did...the first time around for me."
Mulder raised an eyebrow in interest and jotted down a few notes. "Firs
t time around? You don't happen to be a time traveler from the future sent b
ack to save John Lennon and thus the world from eminent danger?" Mulder aske
d matter-of-factly, thinking Richardson had been reading too much H.G. Wells
.
"Nope...just save him from getting shot dead by a nutcase who both desp
ised and adored him."
"Despised and adored him? Explain, please." Mulder was curious, just ho
w could this man know the thoughts of another without ever meeting him?
"Well, you explain why someone who once sang with friends "Imagine ther
e's No John Lennon", but at the same time tried impersonating the guy style-=
wise and even marrying a Japanese woman...just because Lennon did."
"And you knew all this from knowing Chapman?"
"Never met the idiot. Learned it from Time magazine the week after he k
illed Lennon. Plus the pinhead thought he was Holden Caufield from "Catcher
in the Rye" and had to stamp out phoniness. It's my favorite book, you know,=
and I didn't
particularly like Chapman using it as his goddamn excuse for murder."
Mulder looked at his notes; Chapman did have a copy of the J.D Salinger
book hidden in his coat pocket. How did Richardson know? The mystery as get
ting stranger.
"Some might say that you're the obsessed fan..." Mulder commented, tryi
ng to not to tip his hand. "You did send Lennon three letters stating he was
in danger, right down to the night of Chapman's murder..."
"I just knew it was going to happen and I finally thought there was no
other way to stop it. Silly me."
"So just how did you know Chapman was going to try and kill John Lennon
on the night of December 8th, 1980?"
Richardson calmly, yet quietly, stared at the floor and answered. "The
first time when Lennon was murdered by Chapman, I heard it on my clock radio
the morning after. I thought it was a bad dream, but I had returned to the
miserable waking world."
Richardson demonstrated all the characteristics of person being brutally tru
thful. "But this time around, I could not live with the knowledge that Decem
ber 8th 1980 would mark the murder of John Lennon."
"So, you were a big John Lennon fan, then?"
"Well, I preferred the Beatles over the stupid Stones or that disco cra
p on the radio, but then I mostly listened to classical music and jazz, real
geek stuff to my classmates."
"So not much of the Social Big Man on Campus, were we?"
"Hell, I was a complete loser in high school. I was a total geek, hardl
y any friends. I was a loner with bad hair, bad clothes, bad tastes, and no
social life to speak of."
"Well, I can assure you I went through pretty much the same thing..." M
ulder assuredly said, thinking maybe he might get the confidence of the youn
g murder suspect. "I suppose you were ridiculed for being one of the smart k
ids, too?"
"Nope, I fudged along in my classes, mostly Cs and Bs. Didn't do much b
etter on the SAT, which kept me out of college."
"Your school records show otherwise. In High School, you went from thos
e Cs and Bs your first two years to straight As, scored 1505 on the SAT, got
a scholarship to Virginia Tech where you were on the Dean's List for the la
st two years and even
making a good living as a part time design consultant for a couple of big na
me companies."
Richardson seemed annoyed at this compliment. "Like I said before Mr. M
ulder, the Cs & Bs were from my previous life. The one where I ended up in a
two-bit votech school with a stupid drafting certificate, and getting stuck
in one two-bit job after
another. I ended up marrying a neighbor's plain jane daughter who soon start
ed outpacing me in both career and life...until she finally decided to leave
me for another man. A better man. That's when I decided to leave that wakin
g world and come to this one."
Mulder continued writing. The idea of waking worlds versus dream states
was an interesting concept of psychology throughout the ages. Richardson wa
s going to provide him insights no course at Yale or Oxford could bring. "An
d how were you able to conduct such a transfer, Mr. Richardson? That should
be impossible for anyone to do..."
Richardson folded his arms behind his head and covered the sides of his
face. "I have no goddamn idea, Mr. Mulder... no fan-freaking idea how I did
it. I didn't think about doing it, didn't do anything weird to do it. All I
know is that two nights after
my wife left me I somehow woke up in 1977, back as the idiot 16 year old I u
sed to be."
"How did you know it was 1977?" Mulder asked with a trace of disappoint
ment at the lack of a reason for the time travel story.
"When I woke up, I noticed something was oddly different. The red glow
of my 1996 clock radio was instead a low, soft green of my 1977 model. I fum
bled for my glasses on the nightstand, but both they and the nightstand were
n't here. It was then that I noticed that I was now alone in a twin size bed
in my old bedroom at my parents' house. I managed to find my glasses, but t
hey the ones I wore in high school. And it was my old bedroom...."
"I suppose you could had a fight with your.... Wife, and went to your p
arent's house to cool off?"
"Sorry to correct you again, Mr. Mulder, but in 1996 I lived in Knoxvil
le Tennessee, and my parents were still living in Virginia. Anyway, I then d
iscovered the beard I had in 1996 was gone, not even a patch of stubble. I g
ot up, but I was no longer in my 1996 bedroom, my 1996 house, or even my own
damn time. The
room was exactly like it was when he was sixteen years old, even the music &=
news coming out was from the late 70's. I went back to sleep and was soon b
ack in 1996."
"You mean you did this several times before.... staying in 1977?" Mulde
r was looking a mistake to catch up Richardson. *This guy is good... really
believes himself...*
Richardson was now gazing up at the ceiling, his hands folded across hi
s lap. Not one sign of nervousness that would indicate lying was revealed. E
ither he was so insanely convinced of this time travel through dreams...or m
aybe he was telling the
truth? *Get a hold of yourself, Mulder old boy*, he thought to himself. *The
Mentally Disturbed are masters of fooling those around them*
"Well, next day I was sitting in front of my computer workstation, once
again given hopelessly muddled directions for somebody else's project. I gu
ess I must have dozed off because I suddenly found myself at the old dumb te
rminal of a DEC mainframe
that I had used in high school. I turned around, and discovered that I was n
o longer in the CAD room at my 1996 job, but in my old high school Data Proc
essing classroom, with my old schoolmates seated at their tables doing their
projects. I started laughing, knowing that one day that piece of junk would
n't be as powerful as the computer I had at home."
"So you have a computer at home in 1996? Radio Shack, Commodore, or App
le?"
Richardson snickered. "If you have stock in those companies, Mr. Mulder
.... sell now and buy Microsoft when it comes out."
"Thanks for the stock tip..." Mulder bemusedly replied. "So when did yo
u make the final jump from 1996?"
"Following Night...I took about a dozen or so tranquilizers to put me t
o sleep. And again, I woke up in my old bed and this time I got up and staye
d up. I showered, washed out my grease trap of hair, and restarted my life a
whole lot better."
"And that's when you became the top-notch student who went on to succes
s at Virginia Tech?"
"Sure did!" Richardson's personality picked up a good deal, but still h
e had an air of stark depression around him. "Amazed my teachers and classma
tes by my sudden change in personality and aptitude, not to mention I still
had my 15 plus years of driving skills and aced my Drivers Test....as oppose
d to my previous life's 3 failures. I went out and got a job, and bought a n
ew set clothes...mostly that new wave skinny tie and basketball shoe look th
at hit in 1979. Also started listening to college music of
the time; Ramones, Television, Fleshtones, Talking Heads. My Skynyrd-listeni
ng classmates thought I flipped my lid at first but by Christmas I was consi
dered the coolest guy in school."
"As well as the smartest, too?"
"Yeah, thanks to doing trig calculations for 10 years as well as watchi
ng Jeopardy and the Discovery Channel."
This statement caught Mulder by surprise. A main symptom of most psycho
sis is a heightened state of self-importance, but why would Richard claim hi
s smarts came from...
"Wait a minute. You mean they show reruns of Jeopardy in 1996...and whe
n did PBS start calling itself the Discovery Channel?"
Richardson smirked. "No, Jeopardy is...will be... first run again, host
ed by Alex Trebek..."
"The guy on Card Sharks?"
"Yes, that guy. It becomes the second highest rated syndicated half-hou
r show... after `Wheel of Fortune'. And no, the Discovery Channel is... pard
on me again...will be a Basic Cable TV channel featuring all sorts of docume
ntary series and specials."
"I see." Mulder softly said. "So who wins the World Series in 1996?"
"It hadn't been played yet when I left. But the Atlanta Braves won it t
he year before against the Cleveland Indians."
*This Guy IS Crazy...*
After a few dozen more questions, Mulder was more confused then ever. R
ichardson had far too many details about the upcoming years that didn't seem
that profound. Nothing too shocking or earth shattering, just highly detail
ed. And his only concern for Lennon was that he was a good father to his son
Sean and that Michael Jackson would somehow buy all the Beatles songs.
"So after all this, Mr. Richardson..." Mulder began. "Was it worth it?"
"Well, I seemed to have screwed up this life of mine, but I suppose if
Mr. Lennon enjoys his added years of life, it would be worth it."
"Thank you very much, Mr. Richardson. I hope your trial goes...well." M
ulder walked out and closed his notebook and case study on James Richardson.=
Two hours of interviewing would garner 2 paragraphs in Fox Mulder's Senior
Thesis on Serial Killers.
A month later, James Reuben Richardson was convicted of First Degree Mu
rder and sentenced to Life in the Mental Hospital of the New York State Pris
on.
During the trial, John Lennon broke down in tears on the witness stand
recalling the horror that took place in front of him and his wife. Afterward
s, he went into complete seclusion. His single "Just Like Starting Over' onl
y went to #9 on the
Billboard charts and his album "Double Fantasy" languished at #15 before it
and John Lennon disappeared from public interest.
"Spirits Having Flown" by the Bee Gees won the 1981 Grammy for Best Album.
End of Part 1
Part 2 of Nowhere Man by R.J. Christensen
"Nowhere Man"
By R.J. Christensen
Part 2/2
September 12, 1988
Washington DC.
3:45AM
Second year FBI agent Fox Mulder awoke from a fitful sleep, his girlfri
end Kathryn cuddled naked next to him. Something was bothering him, but he c
ould not visualize what it was. Unable to return to sleep, Mulder got up, pu
t on his bathrobe, and wandered into the living room. Reaching for the TV re
mote, he proceeded to surf the 28 cable stations for something to watch. The
USA network was reshowing the ridiculous "Red Dawn", HBO had a grade z teen
sex comedy, WTBS was rerunning a god-awful giant mutant rabbit movie, and s
ome tasteless hair metal band was on MTV. On the educational side, the Disco
very Channel was airing another shark documentary.
"As if I don't deal enough with those from working for the Violent Crim
es Unit..."
Still unable to sleep, Mulder was about to turn off the TV and go back
to bed, when CNN sudden;y broke into the business report for late breaking n
ews story. The newscaster was speaking in a most dour tone, cold grimness on
his face.
"New York City Hospital spokesmen have confirmed the sudden death of fo
rmer Beatle John Lennon. The cause is suspected to be congenial heart failur
e. Lennon, a total recluse since witnessing the fatal shooting of a fan outs
ide his Dakota Hotel apartment building, apparently died in his sleep just a
fter midnight. Lennon, age 48, leaves behind his wife Yoko, their 12 year ol
d son Sean, and another son Julian by his first wife Cynthia..."
Mulder dropped the remote to floor. Even though he was no great Beatles
fan nor had ever met Lennon, he felt somehow connected to him through the i
nterview of James Richardson nearly eight years ago...who incidently did som
ehow predict the
Discovery Channeland the new Jeopardy show. The TV screen now shifted live t
o a paramedic at the hospital.
"We found Mr. Lennon unconscious on the scene, still in his bed. We tri
ed reviving him all the way to the hospital, but he was DOA. The poor guy mu
st have gained nearly an extra hundred pounds or more since he was last seen
and the floor was littered with cigarette butts. All that weight and smokin
g must have done a real job on his heart..."
Mulder shook his head. No, it wasn't the weight or smokes that wreaked
his heart... that was broken nearly 3 years ago by a deranged man with a gun
...
.... or was it?
Suddenly, Mulder had a bizarre thought concerning this strange man he h
ad interviewed nearly eight years ago. He quickly got dressed, left a note f
or Kathryn, and headed to his office...
September 16th
Psychiatric Hospital, New York State Prison
Having convincing his superiors at the FBI to allow him to reopen the i
nvestigation, Mulder had conducted further research on the Chapman murders.
Interestingly, he had found that Mark David Chapman did undergo psychiatric
treatment prior to his
fatefully meeting with Richardson. Also, he discovered that Chapman had seve
ral times expressed hateful feelings towards Lennon, but also tried imitatin
g the famous musician's life. After his wife, who was also of Japanese decen
t like Yoko Ono
Lennon, had left him, Chapman purchased a used .38 caliber revolver, and mad
e a beeline for New York City where his hated idol lived. Mulder was now con
vinced that perhaps James Richardson was most likely right. But how?
"Well, Richardson...your plan to save John Lennon backfired..." Mulder
practiced saying as he was escorted down the hallway of the hospital. The bi
zarre story told by the young man had been haunting him for the previous wor
kweek and had helped
persuaded VCU head Patterson to allow him to re-interview James Richardson.
As he walked down the antiseptic corridor of the hospital, the doctor i
n charge gave him some precautions.
"And remember, Agent Mulder. If there is any sign of psychotic behavior
, call for the orderly. He can hold the patient down while the Nurse comes d
own with a tranquilizing solution. And we request you leave your weapon outs
ide the room."
"How far away is the tranquilizer? I'd hate to have to wrestle the guy
for five minutes...."
"The Nurse at the floor station has it..." the doctor replied motion ba
ck to the office area they had passed.
"So has Mr. Richardson demonstrated any previous acts of violence?"
"Not a one...but we never take chances with the mentally ill...they are
all highly unpredictable."
"As this one has demonstrated before..." Mulder added, not so sure of h
is words.
As the cell door was opened, he saw the gaunt figure of the young man w
ho had driven John Lennon into a doomed state of seclusion. The beard was he
avier, the hair was a bit shaggier, and the eyes a lot sadder. Richardson, s
eated on his bed, looked
from up a book he was reading with a cold and immense melancholia.
"James Richardson? You might not remember me..."
"Fox Mulder of Yale University. Here to do another paper on me?" Richar
dson answered in a hollow tone.
"Actually, now it's Special Agent Fox Mulder of the Federal Bureau of I
nvestigation, but thank you for remembering me considering the years. I just
have a few more personal questions to ask you concerning your case."
"I shot Chapman. Case Solved." Richardson plainly said as Mulder sat do
wn in a folding chair the departing orderly had provided. "I guess my origin
al plan to save John Lennon kind of backfired..."
"You didn't know I was going to say that from a dream you had?" Mulder
asked with surprise.
"Not really, Agent Mulder. It's what all the low-grade staffers and som
e patients tell me. But as for Dreams, I had been having more of those time
travelling dreams again.... but this time they're set in the future...."
"And I suppose John Lennon is still alive and gratefully to you for sav
ing his life?"
"No, he's still dead...shot by Chapman back in December of 1980. Millio
ns mourned his tragic death and Yoko got a pity award Grammy. But at least h
e's not become the butt of Fat Beatle jokes like he is now..." Mulder though
t of more then a few conservative talk radio hosts and so-called comedians w
ho had a field day with
the news about Lennon.
"So, Richardson...tell me about this new Time Travel dream of yours..."
"Well, apparently my wife and myself reconciled after only a month afte
r she left...and we soon became parents of twins; a boy and girl...wonderful
kids. Wonderful life. And after developing a new product design for the com
pany, I got offered a better job and a better life. It was incredible, years
of being a great dad
and a great husband. The night Lennon died of the heart attack, I saw my two
kids graduate with honors from college... wish I could have stayed..."
"Been back since?"
"Nope... can't even seem to fall asleep anymore let alone dream... I gu
ess God does have a sick sense of humor...gives me the power to relive and c
hange my life over and...only to have me screw it up again and again...then
takes it away. Should have stayed put where I was..."
Suddenly, the thought that had been bothering Mulder for all these year
s suddenly came in a crystal clear focus. Richardson did not belong here. He
belonged back in 1996. Back when he had first dreamed of reliving his life.=
Here with even the advantage of wisdom and foresight, he was a Nowhere man,=
but there...he was
somebody. Somebody with a purpose and reason to love life.
"Richardson...do you think you can dream of the day you left your old l
ife?" For years, this strange case had been lurking in Mulder's mind, and he
realized this was the only way to resolve it.
"Well, I think I could...usually I just randomly dream different days..=
.but I have often redreamt the same future moments..."
"Well, why don't you dream of the night you woke up in 1977.... but thi
s time, don't get out that bed. Stay there, and go back to sleep and you'll
wake up back in 1996..."
"Well, that would be hard to do with this monster case of insomnia. Hav
en't slept at all in over 4 days. Got any Somonex?" Richardson made a slight
smirk at his joke, but intense sadness was clearly behind it.
"Personal question now, Richardson. How many tranquilizers did you take
in 1996 the night you left?"
"I guess a dozen or so...the prescription wasn't working very well so I
cheated a bit."
"I think you might have overdosed...and you died...but not before sendi
ng your mind back to when you were 16."
"This is what they teach you guys at the FBI? Or At Yale?"
"I also went to Oxford for a while."
"That would explain it. Some wacky British psychic put you up to this?"
Mulder grinned in sly humor. What the hell was he doing? There was abso
lutely no scientific or psychological basis for Richardson's claims, and wha
t action he was contemplating would probably have him booted out of the FBI
and into Levenworth
Federal prison, but something drove him on. The Truth was somewhere out ther
e about this strange man. Something had to be done...
"I'm going to help you, Richardson..."
Mulder stepped outside the cell. "Hey pal, where's the can?" he asked t
he bored hulk of an attendant.
"Down duh hall...'round duh corh-nuh..." it grunted.
"Thanks.." Mulder walked down the hall, and turned. The nurses' station
was quiet, with just one nurse on duty.
"Are you done already, Agent Mulder?" the young nurse smiled suggestive
ly at Mulder. He smiled back with equal suggestiveness. "No, I was just wond
ering if I could get some aspirin, please. I seem to gotten a really bad hea
dache from the flight up from DC this morning..."
"Well, it's against the rules to give out medication to non-patients, b
ut in your case, I can make an exception..." She smiled warmly and Mulder, a
nd then got up and went into the lab.
While the nurse was going through the cabinets, Mulder quickly noticed
the location of the emergency cart, a vial and hypodermic distinctively plac
ed under a white cloth. He wondered how he could get back behind the desk to
grab them when the curvaceous nurse hollered out from the lab.
"Agent Mulder? Would you also care for a 7-Up instead of plain water?"
"I'd consider you an angel in white if you could, please!" Mulder took
this break and quickly walked behind the desk and pocketed the tranquilizer
and hypodermic with his handkerchief and covered the tray back up.
Mulder stood coolly as Nurse Durham returned, soda and aspirin in hand.=
After thanking her, she looked up coyly at him. "So what is it like working
for the FBI, Agent Mulder?"
"Well, it's very interesting, but rather long-winded. Perhaps we could
discuss this over dinner?" Mulder replied slyly. "What time do you get off t
onight?"
"That depends, Agent Mulder...are you talking about work or something e
lse?"
"You know how to use that thing, Mulder?" Richardson asked, pensively a
s the returning Federal agent took out the hypo and the sealed bottle of liq
uid paralytic. On the label was the tongue-twisting "Succinylcholine/Verced"=
, but Mulder still knew
it was pretty powerful stuff. Normally it was used for surgical anesthesia,
but in this form it could put a wild, raving maniac into a peaceful slumber
in less then a minute.
"I'm a G-Man, not a Doctor..."
"Well, I've seen the staff use it enough to do it myself." Richard took
the two items from Mulder and began extracting the fluid into the hypodermi
c. "Normally they use 3-4 milligrams for someone my size...but I'll make it
7...
"Are you sure you really want to do this? It's only a wild hunch based
on what you're telling me."
Richardson looked at the filled hypodermic pensively, then tapped out t
he airbubbles and shot a stream of the solution at the wall. "Agent Mulder..=
.this nowhere life is not worth living, I can't even temporarily dream my wa
y out it at night. If I
happen to O.D. without playing time traveler, at least you can say I've paid
for my crime against society..."
Mulder turned and went to the door. "Good luck, Mr. Richardson..." he s
aid without looking at the convicted man.
"Thank you, Agent Mulder...for at least listening to me..."
As Fox Mulder left the room and the attendant locked the cell door behi
nd him, Richardson laid back on his bed and thought of his wife and his two
future kids. And for the first time while awake in years, he smiled. An hour
after Agent Mulder left him,
James Richardson injected himself, laid back again, and soon fell asleep....=
and dreamed....
=========================
December 8th, 1999
Washington DC
8:05AM
Special Agent Fox Mulder had just hurriedly slammed Miss December into
his desk drawer when his partner Dana Scully walked into their office with a
large cup of Starbuck's coffee and the morning paper. "Morning Scully!" he
chimed nonchalantly.
"Another centerfold, Mulder? You don't fool me for a minute."
"Well, good morning to you too, Scully. Anything interesting planned fo
r today?"
Scully sat down and opened her paper. "Just have to finish the paper w
ork from our last ...exciting adventure... that you dragged me to the sticks
for." Scully smiled mockingly. Suddenly, her chipper face went sour as she
continued reading the
newspaper. "Hmm, do you know what today is, Mulder?"
"Wednesday."
"No, this date in history..."
"The day FDR declared war on Japan even though he knew about the impend
ing attack on Pearl Harbor two weeks prior because he wanted America in the
war." Mulder said plainly, reciting his conspiracist friend Frohike, a sly g
rin following his answer.
Scully frowned. "No Mulder, it was nineteen years ago that John Lennon
was murdered by Mark David Chapman. I remember Missy was crying hysterically
the next morning during breakfast when we all found out..."
Suddenly, Mulder's smirk left his face. His mind focused intently on th
at tragedy. He knew he had heard the news reports of Lennon's death as a Yal
e student, and actually added Chapman to his research material in criminal p
sychology. But somehow, he was thinking that Lennon wasn't supposed to be ki
lled, but that
his assailant Chapman was supposed to have been slain instead. But by whom?
Vague, roaming thoughts of a sad-faced, bearded Nowhere man who didn't belon
g in this time. But this was impossible...but it felt so much like reality.
More vague
thoughts and visions passed before him, vision of a past that never happened
. A Past that was more then real. But not real.
"Mulder? Are you alright?" Scully's soft, concerned voice brought him o
ut of his moment of mental confusion. There was only one thing he could say
to her....
"Scully... I think I had the strangest dream last night...."
Finis
Comments, Critiques, & Curses can be sent to RJChristen@AOL.com Even pointin
g out typos and grammar errors is welcome. Thanks to Jenna Blaylock for her
Medical insight and Nita Durham for the encouragement to finish this, which
is incidently in it's third incarnation.
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