~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Chapter Seven ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Dawn streaked the sky with weak blue watercolors as Grenier and Mulder left the hospital. They paused on the wet sidewalk, Mulder leaning heavily on his crutches. Grenier rolled his shoulders back a few times and squinted at the clouds. "Christmas Eve day," he remarked. "Some fucking merry holiday this is turning out to be." "Do you suppose her parents know?" Mulder asked, and Grenier looked at him. "Lily's parents. Do you think they know she's alive?" "I'm the wrong person to ask. I know fuck all right now, Mulder." Mulder nodded. "I bet she never told them. All her hopes for family are wrapped up in her daughter now. Besides, how do you go home again after seventeen years?" "Mulder, can we talk about this later? I'm not pulling a lot of heartstrings for that girl right now, if you know what I'm saying." "Yeah, okay. Sure." Mulder bit his lip. "Except tomorrow is Christmas." "And?" "And that's D-day. Whatever Pittsfield's got in mind, it revolves around Christmas. That's why he had the Advent calendar at his house." "Fine." Grenier drew himself up and gave Mulder his full attention. "Let's hear it then. You say he didn't want Natalie, and once again it seems that maybe you were right. Otherwise, he would have just made the trade and not burned Penelope to us, right?" "Maybe. Maybe he just wanted Penelope out of the picture. He wasn't willing to make the trade." Grenier's jaw tensed. "Well, Natalie and Amelia are in protective custody now. I'd like to see him take a run at them. I'd really like to see him try." Fatigue made Mulder sway on his feet. He needed to get some rest. He needed to see Scully. But the Advent calendar from Hell was counting down fast, so he tried to force himself to focus. "Okay," he said, rubbing his head with one hand, "we know he's got this Christ's resurrection thing going. Maybe... maybe he's looking for a new one. Maybe he wants us to think it's Natalie but it's really someone else." "Who?" Grenier demanded somewhat angrily. "If we can't figure that out, what the hell are we supposed to do about it?" "I don't know." "Well, I don't know either. Fuck." Grenier turned away, pacing a bit in front of the hospital doors. Mulder's cell phone rang from inside his coat pocket, and Grenier snorted. "Maybe that'll be Pittsfield calling to explain it to us," he said. Mulder struggled to keep his crutches from falling over as he dug out the phone. The caller ID glowed "unknown." "Mulder," he said. "I have something you want," came the voice on the other end, and Mulder stiffened. He waved frantically at Grenier. "I've got Natalie and I've got Lily, Pittsfield. Seems like the score is two to nothing." "You have nothing I didn't give you." "Okay, then. Seeing as how you're feeling so generous, maybe you want to hand over Lily's daughter too." Pittsfield gave a laugh that degenerated into a vicious cough. "Finally put it together, did you? Sorry, but she's not on the bargaining table." "Then we have nothing to talk about." "Okay," Pittsfield said agreeably. "Maybe you would like to talk to Agent Scully instead." Wind whipped suddenly through his coat. "What did you say?" "You heard me." "I don't believe you." "Believe what you want. Or check the hospital security tapes yourself. Agent Scully and I left just a short while ago." "You've got Scully? Let me talk to her. Let me talk to her now." "Oh, my mistake. She's still sleeping. I'm afraid she can't come to the phone." "Listen, you sonofabitch..." "Such language, on Christmas Eve yet." "Let me talk to Scully." "Maybe later." Pittsfield's tone turned hard. "Right now you listen to me. I want a different trade now. You do everything I tell you, exactly as I tell you, and Agent Scully will make it home for Christmas alive." "What is it you want, Pittsfield?" "What I have always wanted. Lily. You have her, and I have Scully. The solution here is obvious." "Lily is not in my custody." "Then you'd better find a way to fix that. Either I get Lily back by midnight tonight, or Agent Scully won't be celebrating a very merry Christmas." He hung up and left Mulder staring blankly at his cell phone. Grenier hovered at Mulder's shoulder. "Don't tell me he's got Scully." "I don't know," Mulder whispered. "It could be a bluff." His phone rang again, making him startle. This time the caller ID read "Georgetown University Hospital." Mulder clicked on the phone with trepidation. "Mulder." "Agent Mulder," came a distressed male voice, "Agent Scully has disappeared from her room and we cannot locate her. Do you or any of your people know where she's gone?" ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Scully awoke sore, her limbs still heavy and not quite responsive. She smelled dust and nylon, the reason for which became clear when she opened her eyes: her had her face planted in a sleeping bag. When she tried to move her hands she found they had been bound behind her back. Her legs, too, were held together at the ankle with what felt like duct tape. Scully wriggled to get a better sense of her surroundings. Windows boarded up. One door, probably locked. She saw a table with a single battered chair next to it. "You're awake." Scully jerked at the sound of the voice -- so young, so matter-of-fact. She rolled over on her hands and saw a young girl sitting cross-legged on a sleeping bag ten feet away. It was the same girl who had shot Mulder -- god, had it only been the day before? "Hello," Scully said in a throaty rasp. Her voice did not quite work yet. "Do you want some water?" her captor asked, setting aside her book. "He said you can have some water if you want." "Water would be great." The girl got up in one easy motion and walked to the table. She poured water from a pink pitcher into a paper cup and brought it to Scully. "You've got to lift your head up some," she told her. Scully attempted to comply, and the girl held the cup to her mouth. "Slow," the girl reminded her as Scully choked the first time. "That's better." The cool water felt marvelous over her swollen throat. "Thanks," Scully said. "You're pretty good at this." The girl raised one shoulder in a half-shrug. "I do it for Father all the time when he's not feeling well." "Your father is sick?" "Oh yes. Very. But just until tomorrow, when the Angel comes to make him better." Her brow wrinkled. "Father says you were in the hospital. Maybe the Angel can make you better too." "Where is your father?" Scully tried to sound as casual as she could. "He went out," the girl stated flatly. "He'll be back soon." She got up to bring the cup back to the table. "Did he go out to find the Angel?" "Maybe." Scully was forced to roll on her side again to keep circulation in her hands. "Who is the Angel, do you know?" "She used to live here a long time ago, but then she ran away when I was a little baby. I--I don't remember her." "What about your mother?" "I don't have a mother. I never had one. Father says I came straight from God." "You must be pretty special then." The girl looked at her feet. "Not as special as the Angel," she whispered. "I wasn't able to make Father better. That's why we need her back." "What is the Angel's name? Do you know it?" The girl bit her lip. "I'm not s'posed to say." "You can tell me," Scully said in a lowered voice. "It will be our secret." The girl looked around the room as if to make sure no one else was listening. "Her name's Lily," she said. "Like me." Of course, Scully thought, feeling suddenly stupid. No wonder they look so much alike. She licked her lips, treading carefully. "Maybe--maybe the Angel is your mother. Maybe that's why you have the same name." Lily's eyes went round and dark. "Don't say that! Don't ever say that!" "Why not?" "Father doesn't like you to say that." "Why, Lily? Did you ask him?" She nodded slowly. "And what did he say?" "He called me a sinner and put me in hell for forty days." "Hell?" Lily nodded again. She crossed the room and moved aside a third sleeping bag. Underneath, Scully could see a trapdoor cut out of the old floorboards. "It's down there," Lily explained in a hushed voice. Just then, they heard the scrape of a key in the front lock. Lily scrambled to cover up the trapdoor. "Don't tell," she warned Scully. "Don't ever tell or he'll put you down there too." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "At least he hasn't hurt her," Grenier said as he nudged the accelerator down another notch. "We don't know that." Mulder gripped the door with one hand. "The fact that he wouldn't let me talk to her is a bad sign." "He would have drugged her to get her out of the hospital, probably. She may still be under." "We've got to stall the hospital. If they call the cops in, everyone from Skinner on up is going to know what's going on. We won't stand a chance in hell of keeping this quiet." "What do you mean, 'keep it quiet'? Mulder, look at us. We haven't slept in days. You can barely walk. We need help on this." "You know the FBI policy on trades," Mulder ground out. "That's exactly why you didn't bring them in when Natalie was missing!" "That was different." "The hell it was." "Mulder, I understand your position here. Believe me, I know. But the best chance of getting her back is--" "Drive." "Mulder--" "Just drive!" Mulder leaned back and closed his eyes. "I'll figure something out when we get there." The hospital loomed ahead. "Think fast," Grenier said grimly. "We're here." ~*~*~*~*~*~ The heavy door swung open and Pittsfield stood on the threshold with the keys still in his hand. Lying as she was on the floor, to Scully he looked enormous. The floor jumped as he walked into the room. "Girl been looking after you okay?" he asked her, keys jangling. "I gave her water like you asked, Father." "Good, good," he replied, his eyes still on Scully. "Don't want you dyin' on us before it's time." "Time for what?" Scully asked. "Resurrection day, my dear. This time tomorrow, I'll be saved." "I understand you've been sick." Pittsfield cast a wild eye on his daughter. "You've been talking out of turn again, ain't you, girl?" "No, Father." "What have you been telling her?" He grabbed the girl by the chin and forced her to look up at him. "You've been telling her all our business?" "No, I swear!" "Leave her alone," Scully said. "She hasn't told me anything." Pittsfield glared at her. "You stay out of this. You keep quiet and do as I say and just maybe you'll be home with your family for Christmas." He dropped his hand from Lily and faced her. "I don't want to hurt you," he said as he put his hand into the deep pocket of his coat. When he removed it again, he held a revolver. "But sometimes in a Holy War, God demands that blood be shed." Scully swallowed. "I just meant -- I'm a doctor. Maybe there's something I can do to help you." "Nothing you or any other doctor can do for me." As if to prove it, he broke into a wracking cough. He stared down at her with watery eyes. "My life is in God's hands now. And, little lady -- your life is in mine." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "You're sure that's an FBI agent?" Roy Billings, head of hospital security, sounded doubtful as he watched the security tape showing Pittsfield loading Scully into his car. Mulder barely heard. He was studying the grainy images for hints of where Pittsfield might have been heading. "Uh, yeah," he said, distracted. "That's Agent, um, Brown." Mulder risked a glance back at the corner, where Grenier was running the plates. "If he's FBI, why didn't he check in at the nurses' station before removing her?" "Um. It's complicated. We had a shift in the case. Agent Scully may be in some danger. I'm sure you understand that I can't elaborate without compromising our investigation." "No, I don't understand. We can't have patients just go missing without some form of authorization." Grenier returned to the counter. Mulder gave him a meaningful look. "Agent Brown's car check out okay?" "Huh?" Grenier caught on a split second late. "Oh. Yes. Scully is with Agent Brown now." "Look, someone has to sign our forms," Billings said. "I don't care if it's you or Brown or whoever, but someone has to absolve the hospital of any liability here." "I'll do it," Mulder snapped. "Just make it fast." As soon as Billings was out of sight, Grenier leaned in to say, "The car's hot. It was stolen downtown three nights ago." "Fuck." Mulder hit rewind on the tape. Pittsfield appeared from a side door with Scully slumped in a wheelchair. He rolled her to a waiting dark sedan and loaded her into the passenger seat. The whole process took less than a minute. "She does look out of it," Grenier murmured. "I don't see any sign of the girl." "I can't tell which way they went. The tape loses them just before the exit." "Agent Mulder?" A tall thin man in a white coat appeared holding a folder. He pushed his glasses up on his nose. "I'm Mark McCuen. I treated Dana Scully when she was admitted last night." Mulder blanched. Until that moment he hadn't considered the fact that Scully had been abducted from the *hospital*. Where she'd been because she was sick. "Hi, uh, Dr. McCuen. Thanks for coming down." "You're listed as Dana's primary emergency contact person here at the hospital. I take it you'll be signing the release?" "That's right." He took the forms and stared at them blankly for a minute. "Is she okay?" he asked, looking up at last. "I mean, she's going to be okay, right?" "I would have preferred that she stay until we could stabilize her electrolytes, but yes, I think she should be fine." "Did you figure out what was wrong?" "Nothing serious as far as illness goes." He smiled. "Dana is pregnant." "What?" Mulder's stomach went into free-fall. "She was dehydrated and anemic, which may have caused both the nose bleeds and the fainting spells. It's not terribly uncommon in early pregnancy, but she's going to have to watch her food and water intake better." "Mulder? Mulder!" Grenier lurched forward and grabbed Mulder's arm before Mulder's legs buckled underneath him. Mulder held Grenier in a fierce grip. "She's pregnant," he said, still dazed. "Adam..." "We're going to find her," Grenier said right against his ear. "You hear me? We're going to find her." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Scully's arms ached from being pinned behind her back. Even lying down, she felt light-headed. She tried to remember the last thing she had eaten and came up with a bagel for breakfast the day before. Pittsfield sat at the table eating a pastrami sandwich, and Lily had gone back to her book. "Black Beauty," the cover said. "I read that when I was about your age," Scully told the girl. Lily smiled but Pittsfield stopped chewing to reprimand them. "Don't you talk to her. She's not your business. I want silence, you understand me? The both of you just keep quiet so I can think." He worked himself into such a tirade that he started coughing again, tremors that shook his whole body and made his face turn purple. When he lowered the handkerchief from his mouth, Scully saw blood on it. She added up what little she knew about his ailment and tried to deduce what he might have. Clearly he thought it was terminal. She cast about for pills and saw nothing but some extra-strength Tylenol and a smaller, unmarked bottle. Nothing prescription. She wagered he had not wanted to attract attention by seeing a doctor. He was quite thin. Add on a bloody cough... Lung cancer, maybe? Although she did not see any sign that he was a smoker. "I need to think," he was muttering to himself. "We don't have much time." He pulled out his phone and dialed a number he clearly knew by heart. "Agent Mulder," he said a moment later, and Scully's heart froze. "I assume you've had time to think about my offer." He paused. "Well, you're just going to have to find a way around that, now won't you? Here is what you need to do: there is a warehouse at the end of Ebony Avenue. You'll know it because it's the only building around. Bring the girl there at 11pm tonight." He turned and looked at Scully, as if considering something. "One word. That's it." He walked over and held the phone down to her mouth. "Say you're fine." "Mulder? I'm okay." Pittsfield yanked the phone away. She hadn't heard Mulder say a thing. "There's your proof," Pittsfield growled into the phone. "She's fine for now. If you want to keep her that way, you'll do as I say." He hung up and slipped the phone back into his pocket. Pulling out his handkerchief, he wiped his mouth. "You better hope he wants you back," he told Scully. "You said to bring the girl," Scully said. "Who is he bringing?" Lily hugged the book to her chest. "The Angel." "He found her?" Scully narrowed her eyes at Pittsfield. "He found Lily Anne Tucker?" "I found her for him," Pittsfield corrected. "I showed him what he had lost, what he had found, and what he will now lose again." He smiled. "It's a true Christmas miracle." ~*~*~*~*~*~ "You talked to her," Grenier said as he drove them back across town. "That's something, right? It means she's okay." "For now." "Murder isn't Pittsfield's style." Grenier was trying to sound encouraging. "He sure as hell had no qualms about shooting me." Grenier gave him a sideways look. "We'll get her back." "Yeah." Mulder stared out the window. "You think Penelope is what Pittsfield says she is?" "You're shitting me." Grenier looked at him again, and Mulder turned his head to meet Grenier's gaze. Grenier sighed. "You're serious. Okay, then. No, for the record, I do not believe that woman has any supernatural or religious power. Hell, I cut my finger slicing carrots once and the best she could do is get me a Band-Aid." Mulder fingered one of his crutches and considered the task ahead of them. "Who's watching her now? Do we know?" "Yeah. Paul Pratt's running the investigation from our end. He's a regular, by-the-book Boy Scout." "Shit. Then you can be sure our names are on the Do Not Call list. We won't be allowed near her." "What's the plan, then?" "I don't know," Mulder admitted. "Usually I have Scully get past these people using her medical credentials." "Somehow I doubt Pratt is going to believe we went to medical school in our spare time. Actually, wait a minute." He shifted in his seat. "Wait a minute. I have an idea. We might be able to use the medical angle after all." "She's seen a doctor already, Grenier." Mulder felt a hundred years old. "Yeah, but you haven't. Not since yesterday." "What are you talking about?" The car jerked as Grenier brought it to a swift halt outside the Hoover Building. "I'm saying, you don't look well, Mulder. You don't look well at all." ~*~ They found the room where Pratt was holding Penelope at the far end of a long corridor. Grenier nudged Mulder's arm and nodded in the direction of the emergency exit, which was only a few feet away. Mulder nodded back as Grenier rapped on the interrogation room door. No answer. Grenier knocked again. Pratt appeared a few moments later, looking not at all pleased. His tie hung loose around his neck and he had a chewed-up coffee stirrer in his hand. "You guys," he said when he saw Grenier and Mulder. "You're not supposed to be here." "We don't want to talk to the suspect," Grenier said. "We're here to help." "Sure you are." "No really." Mulder nodded at Grenier, and Grenier handed over a folder. "This is all of our information from the case back in 1987. We thought it would be useful to you." Pratt's expression softened and he accepted the papers. "Hey, thanks. This is great. I appreciate it, guys." He looked up at them. "You know this isn't my call, right? I mean, I never asked for this case." Grenier clapped him on the arm. "We know how it went down, Pratt. The investigation's in capable hands." He eyed the closed door behind Pratt. "Is she talking?" Pratt shook his head. "She's clammed up pretty tight. Maybe something in these files might shake her loose." "Ask her about her parents," Mulder said. "Oh, good one." Pratt took a pen from behind his ear and scribbled "parents" on the front of the folder. Grenier used the time to signal Mulder. On cue, Mulder groaned. Pratt looked instantly concerned. "You okay, man?" "He got shot yesterday," Grenier said. "Of course he's not okay." Mulder groaned again and made a show of slumping against the wall. Grenier went to his side. "Mulder? Mulder, are you going to be all right?" "Dizzy..." Mulder breathed, his eyes going closed. "Call 9-1-1!" Grenier ordered Pratt. Pratt hesitated. "NOW!" Grenier yelled. Pratt started down the hall at a run. His back was barely turned when Grenier started helping Mulder back off the floor. "Go, go," Mulder urged as he struggled with the crutches. "I'll just slow you down." Grenier went into the interrogation room and emerged dragging Penelope by the arm. "You can't do this," she protested. "Somebody help!" Grenier clapped hand over her mouth and started dragging her towards the emergency exit. "Stairs," he said, breathing hard. He looked at Mulder. "Think you can handle it?" "I think I don't have a choice. Go, move." He followed them through the door. After a split-second's contemplation, he abandoned one crutch at the top of the stairs and started limping down as fast as he could using his one good leg. The pain was crackling, intense; he thought it must be what electrocution felt like. The world swam before him, and Mulder tried to keep oxygen moving through his lungs. Through the roar in his ears, he could hear Grenier calling, "Hurry! Hurry!" Winter hit with an icy blast as the Hoover spit them out onto the sidewalk. Grenier cuffed Penelope and shoved her into the back seat, peering over his shoulder as he did so. Mulder collapsed in the passenger's seat and tried not to throw up. Penelope kicked the back of the seat in fury. "You bastards! You can't do this. You'll never get away with this." "Shut the fuck up," Grenier said as he started the engine. "What? What do you want from me?" "I'd leave you out for the wolves as soon as look at you," Grenier returned. "But it seems Pittsfield has other plans. The old man wants you back for some reason." Penelope went suddenly still. "You wouldn't." Mulder managed enough energy to turn around and look at her. "What is it you said? That you would do anything to get your daughter back? Welcome to 'anything.'" ~*~*~*~*~*~ End chapter seven. Continued in chapter eight. Thanks to Amanda for proofing! Thank you all for bearing with me and my stupid eye problem. I will try to hurry chapter eight along as fast as I can. Go ahead. Let's talk evil: syn_tax6@yahoo.com