~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* UNIVERSAL INVARIANTS ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Chapter Thirteen: Deny Everything By syntax6 For several years now, Mulder had looked on his sex drive as something of a nuisance. He had locked himself in the basement and stacked file folders six feet deep around his desk. He dreamed of space ships and mutant-faced men, of what he would say to Samantha when he finally found her again. Only when his body boiled up inside, lust keening in him like a teakettle, did Mulder pop in a video and give into quick release. A fast resetting of his biological clock, and he could focus his attention on what really mattered. Mulder stared at the TV now, at the nude bodies writhing in such a way that defied several laws of physics. He saw past it, images blurring, and finally gave up. He shed his unzipped jeans and pulled on a pair of running shorts. Sex with Scully was good for his physical health. Since coming back from Arecibo, Mulder spent half his time running and the other half in the pool -- heating up and cooling down. Mulder's legs took him on the familiar route, feet hitting the pavement in a reassuring regular rhythm. His chest tightened with each quick breath. His calves started to burn. Mulder ran himself right out of town. The trees thickened, pines in full summer bloom. The electric buzz of insects set the night humming. Mulder heard only the wind in his ears and the breath from his lungs. He smelled him before he saw him. Streetlights lit the curl of smoke on the path ahead. Mulder drew up short, wiping the sweat from his brow. He bent at the waist and waited for the Shadow man to come out of the trees. "Good evening, Agent Mulder." The Smoking man never changed dress for the weather. Mulder expected he slept in his long overcoat and shiny black shoes. The man dropped his butt on the edge of the path, where it smoldered in the damp grass. "It's Saturday night," Mulder said. "Don't tell me you don't have a date." The man chuckled and lit up a fresh smoke. "Shall we dance?" "Go to hell." Mulder started to jog by him but stopped when the old man made a "tut-tut" noise around the cigarette. "You've been a busy boy, Mulder. Hunting fluke worms in the NY sewers. Chasing electronic mind control in Pennsylvannia." He paused. "And of course, there's Arecibo." "What do you know about Arecibo?" Still breathing hard, Mulder took a step towards the smoking man. "I know you were fortunate enough to escape before you were found with a dead body. Might have been a tough thing to explain to the Puerto Rican government, hmmm? Good thing that Agent Scully showed up when she did." Fear prickled over his sweaty skin. "Leave Scully out of it." "I wish I could. I tried to. But it seems you won't leave her -- or the X-files -- alone. Really, I thought we had been quite clear on this point, Agent Mulder." "You can take away the files. You can't hide the truth." "There is no truth." He took a long puff. "But there are consequences." "Such as?" The smoker dropped his second butt and made a show of crushing this one out on the pavement. "Stay away from Scully. Stay away from the X-Files." ~*~*~*~*~*~ Mulder had a new partner. His name was Alex Krycek, and he had a fastidiousness about him that made Scully nervous. He "yes, ma'amed" and "no, sirred" everyone, lingering in Mulder's shadow with his pressed suit and slicked-back hair. Scully knew it was wrong to hate him because he was Mulder's partner, so she found other reasons. At night, she dreamed she was back in the jungle, where the smell of the earth rose up into the hot air. She heard the sound of the rain hitting the wide green leaves and felt Mulder's body surging into hers. Scully woke on a gasp, her fingers clenching the damp sheet surrounding her. She sunk back into the pillow as the pounding subsided in her chest. Mulder's taste, his mouth on her neck, his naked belly rubbing against hers -- all of it kept coming back. Scully swallowed several deep breaths and squeezed back hot tears of shame. Beside her, Ethan had the blankets pulled up to his shoulder despite the warm night. He had been so sick with the flu, he hadn't even noticed her missing engagement ring. She still was not sure what she would say to him when he did. Curled in on herself, Scully watched Ethan sleep and bit back the agony inside. She had always prized honesty, fidelity -- and here she was involved in a second adulterous relationship. Scully swiped at the sliding tears. Mulder wasn't going to marry her. Not now, probably not ever. She would have a better shot at keeping his attention if she had ESP, scales, or a mutant third eye. Maybe, she thought, if I were abducted by aliens. Scully slid out of bed and went to the phone in the living room. She grabbed the chenille throw from the back of the couch as Mulder's line rang through. "Mulder," he said, sounding totally awake. "Mulder, it's me." "Hey, Scully. It's after two. What are you doing up?" "Couldn't sleep." She twirled the fringe on the throw. "I had a dream. A dream about Puerto Rico." "Scully..." She waited for him to continue. Silence stretched on the line. "We can't talk about this on the phone," Mulder said finally. "Then when? You want to have this conversation in an underground parking lot too?" She heard the leather squeak as he shifted on the couch. "I don't know. Maybe we shouldn't have it at all." "What?" "This is a dangerous time for us, Scully." "Mulder, we're not even working on the X-Files anymore." "That doesn't mean we're not being watched." The hair on Scully's neck stood up. "What do you mean, watched?" "Just because we don't have the X-files doesn't mean they're not still out to shut me down." "What more can they do? Mulder, you--you said they sent me to spy on you, which was never true. Then you said they wanted to split us up. Then they took the files, and now you think they still care what we do? I baby sit bodies at Quantico and you're on wiretap duty. I think maybe you're being a little paranoid here." "You know what they say. You can never be too rich or too paranoid." ~*~*~*~*~ Mulder bounced a basketball around his apartment on Sunday until his neighbors started pounding on their ceiling. He put the ball aside and wiped his forehead with the bottom of his T-shirt. Palming the phone, he hit "memory 2" and listened to the ringing on the other end. "Lone Gunmen," said Byers. "Byers," Mulder answered, relieved. "Good. Listen, can you meet me somewhere?" "Sure, we can meet you anywhere. Just name the location." "No, just you. Is that okay?" "Of course, Mulder," replied Byers without missing a beat. "Where and when would you like to meet?" "The basketball courts on Raymond and Jefferson? Say an hour?" Byers paused. "I don't play basketball." "I know that. Just meet me, okay? Don't worry about the ball." An hour later, Byers showed up on the court wearing his customary suit paired with white tennis shoes. "You could have at least skipped the tie," Mulder said as he took a free-throw shot from the foul line. "You promised we wouldn't be playing," replied Byers defensively. Mulder motioned him over to the bench. They sat in the shade and Mulder took a deep swig from his water bottle. He had invited Byers out with the intention of discussing the Scully situation, but now that they were together the conversation melted inside his head like a Dali painting. "What is it?" Byers asked. "Did you get anything off the tape from Arecibo?" "No, nothing. Listen, I just wanted to ask you..." "Yes?" Byers's mouth set in a thin line of concern. "Say there's this... cookie." "Excuse me?" "Yeah, a cookie. This guy who doesn't like you all of a sudden gives you this cookie. You think it might be poisoned, that he might be trying to trick you." "I wouldn't eat the cookie. I'd throw it away." "No, you don't throw it away. You keep it with you. Every time you pass it, it looks a little better. You start thinking it might not be poisoned after all." "Is it a frosted cookie?" Mulder looked at him. "Why?" "I like frosted cookies best." "Okay, yes. Say it's a frosted cookie." "If it's a frosted cookie, I say eat it. But they go stale after a few days. Even if it weren't poisoned, maybe you wouldn't want to eat it after all." "It's not stale. It's still perfectly edible." "But you said it had been sitting there--" "It's magic, okay? It's a magic cookie that doesn't ever go stale." Annoyed, Mulder continued. "Anyway, after a while you're pretty sure the cookie's not poisoned. You start thinking you need to eat it. One day you give in and take a bite." "And was it poisoned?" "No," Mulder said softly. He shook his head. "No, it's just as good as you thought it would be. Better, even. But there's a problem. The guy who sent you this cookie, he was waiting for you to take the bait. He thinks he has you now. He's uncovered your... cookie weakness." "I see." "And it's worse because it turns out the cookie doesn't even belong to you. It belongs to some other guy." "Oh." Byers shifted on the bench and squinted out at the sunny court. "This wouldn't be a red-headed cookie, would it?" Mulder said nothing for a long moment. He gave a short nod. "I don't know what to do." "Well, uh... how big a bite of the cookie did you take?" Mulder gave him a meaningful look. "Huge." "Oh." Byers sat back and let out a long breath. "My mother used to catch me with my hand in the cookie jar when I was little." "What did you do?" "Tried to lie my way out of it. But cookie breath is always a dead giveaway." He clapped his hand on Mulder's arm. "I think maybe you have to take the lumps coming your way." "I was afraid of that." "But Mulder, here's the thing -- no matter how many times I got caught, the cookie was always worth it." ~*~*~*~*~ Monday morning Ethan ate a regular breakfast en route to returning to work. He still looked a bit wan, his clothes hanging somewhat as he struggled to overcome a ten-day illness. "You're sure you're up to this?" Scully asked as she refilled his orange juice glass. "I'll survive. If you're out too long, they start thinking they can replace you. Should be an easy day." "That's good, at least." He crunched down on a piece of toast and nodded at her. "Hey, where's your ring? Did you take it off for some reason?" "Uh, I--I wanted to tell you about that." Scully felt her whole body flush. She wanted to tell him but did not have the words. During her hesitation, Ethan's cell phone rang. "Hold that thought," he said as he went to answer it. Scully heard him talking in the other room as she raced to figure out what to say. Ethan, maybe we should wait. Ethan, I can't marry you. Ethan, I just took it off to do the dishes. If she said no now, she would never have another chance to say yes. "Scratch that easy day," Ethan said as he returned to the kitchen. "What happened?" "Hostage situation in Richmond. Some escaped mental patient is holding four people including his psychiatrist. Melinda and I have to be there ASAP." He kissed her cheek. "Thanks to some excellent doctoring, I'm ready to go." "Ethan-" "Got to run, sweetie. I'll call you when I know something, but it could be another late night. Love you. Bye." He disappeared in a rush, leaving Scully with a scattered table in an empty kitchen. "Bye," she said. ~*~*~*~ From her office, Scully watched the scene unfold through Ethan's camera. Cop cars lined the streets and a crowd had gathered around the travel agency where the hostages were being held. "We have unconfirmed reports that negotiations are underway with Duane Barry," Ethan said. "No word yet on what exactly his demands are, but the FBI has the travel agency surrounded on all sides." As if on cue, her phone rang. "Scully." "It's me," Mulder said. "I'm in Virginia." "I've been watching it on TV. What's going on there?" "What's the media saying?" "That an escaped mental patient is holding four people hostage in a travel agency." "Well, what they're not telling you is that he's former FBI who also claims to be an alien abductee." "Seriously?" "Yeah, his name's Duane Barry. Look, Scully, I need your help. I need you to find out what happened to him. Anything about his abduction experiences." Scully heard shouting on the other end. "Mulder?" "The lights just went out here." Scully waited, but he did not say anything else. "Mulder, what's going on?" But the line had gone dead. ~*~*~*~ Mulder stood stock still as they put the tiny transmitter into his ear. He tried to pay attention to what the agents were telling him about how to handle Barry, but all he could think about was that he was going to be standing between Barry's nine millimeter and the four hostages. No word from Scully yet on the specifics of Barry's abduction experiences. Mulder would have to guess at it using what he knew from the literature. "Your job will be to deliver medical help to the hostage," said the SAC Lucy Kazdin. "You're to get in and get out. You are not to risk your own life. Whatever you believe." "Don't jump into his delusion," Mulder repeated from rote. "I can't negotiate with him if he thinks I believe him." "Right." Mulder and the paramedic entered the dark room cautiously. His first look at Duane Barry came on the wrong side of a gun. Barry had wild brown hair and glassy, terror-filled eyes. "Turn around!" he ordered them. "We're just here to help," Mulder said. He took in the jagged scar on Barry's forehead and the trembling weapon in his hand. Mulder knew then that Barry was telling the truth. He had felt that kind of desperate fear. You couldn't make it up. "I believe you," he told Barry. "I believe you." ~*~*~*~ Scully hopped a quick flight to Richmond and then drove like the proverbial bat out of hell to the travel agency. They did not want to let her inside the war room. "I don't think you understand what I'm telling you," Scully said to the young man guarding the door. "We got a situation in progress." "All right, then let me speak to someone who's in charge." Krycek appeared and put a hand on her shoulder. "You are. Calm down, Scully." Scully pushed his hand away. "Don't tell me to calm down." A black woman approached them with a frown on her face. "What's the problem here?" "I'm Special Agent Dana Scully and I have information that is vital to your negotiations." "What information?" "I think there's been a critical misjudgment here. This man who claims to be under the control if aliens, his mental health history describes a rare state of psychosis. As you can see from his medical records, in 1982, Duane Barry was shot in the line of duty, the bullet piercing his frontal lobes." Scully filled them in on the fact that Barry might be a pathological liar. "Well, if this is true, he's got your former partner completely fooled," Kazdin said. "Is there anyway I can reach him with this information?" "Sure, but it may be too late." "What?" "Show her." They played a section of tape for Scully that featured Mulder talking to Barry. She clutched the headphones and listened to her partner's strained voice. "How old was your sister when they took her?" Barry asked. "She was eight," Mulder replied, and Scully's heart sank. "I've seen kids sometimes, young girls." "What are they doing to them?" Scully closed her eyes. Don't go there, Mulder. Please. "Doing tests," Barry said. "You know... testing them." "Are they hurting them?" "Oh yeah. Sometimes... it hurts real bad, and you just want to die, you know?" There was a short silence. "You can let the others go, Duane. Let the others go and take me." This man was describing torture that made you think death was a good option, and Mulder was offering himself up to go. "I've heard enough," Scully said roughly, shoving aside the headphones. "I need to talk to him." They hooked her up to Mulder's transmitter. Barry was describing the abduction site. "A mountain," he said. "We went up and up. Ascending to the stars. I'm not going again." "Mulder?" Scully said. "It's me. Listen to me. You cannot trust Duane Barry. He is a brain-damaged psychopath who took a bullet in the head." Mulder, thank God, listened. He nudged Barry toward the front door, where the SWAT team put a bullet through Barry's shoulder. Mulder's ticket to the stars was cancelled. ~*~*~ Scully walked out of the building expecting to see Mulder. Instead she found herself on the receiving end of a familiar bright camera light. "Agent Scully," Ethan's voice called to her. "Any word on Duane Barry's condition?" Scully, because she owed him one, squinted and answered. "He's being taken to the hospital. That's all I know." "What about the hostages?" "They are all being evaluated at the hospital as well." "And Agent Mulder?" Unconsciously, she scanned the parking lot for him. In the dark, all she could make out were a few shadowed figured. "Uh, he's fine, I think. Excuse me, I have to get back to work." Melinda cut the lights and Ethan came over to touch her arm. "Hey," he said. "Are you all right?" "I'm fine. I was never in any danger." "Thank God." He kissed her head. "I have to go edit this. Don't wait up tonight, okay?" Scully searched out Mulder and found him watching Duane Barry being loaded into the back of an ambulance. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but with her luck, Ethan would catch the exchange on tape. Scully swallowed the lump in her throat. "Are you okay, Mulder?" He nodded. "It's just... I believed him." Scully took a furtive look around and did not see anyone watching them. She hugged Mulder fast and fierce. "I'm glad you're okay," she whispered. She pulled away before he could hug her back. ~*~*~*~ At home in DC, Scully stopped at the grocery on the way home. Rain poured down against the wide storefront windows. Scully ignored the sound as she proceeded to the checkout. Ethan would be home soon, and they would talk. The clerk scanned her items and rang up the total. After Scully handed her the check, the woman went to clear out her register. Scully fondled the small glass container in her pocket that held the implant removed from Duane Barry's abdomen. What the hell, she thought, and waved it across the scanner. The machine went wild, beeping and flashing numbers. "What happened?" said the clerk, hurrying back. "Did you touch something?" "No," Scully muttered. She grabbed her groceries and ran. She barely noticed the rain this time as she raced from her car to her apartment. It was dark inside; Ethan was not yet home. Thunder rocked the walls and lightning sliced through her living room. Scully did not even remove her coat. She dialed Mulder's number and cursed inwardly when she got his machine. Pacing, Scully waited impatiently for the beep. "Mulder, it's me. I just had something incredibly strange happen. This piece of metal that they took out of Duane Barry, it has some kind of a code on it. I ran it through a scanner and some kind of a serial number came up. What the hell is this thing, Mulder? It's almost as if... it's almost as if somebody was using it to catalogue him." Something thumped outside her window. Scully walked with the phone to the window and raised the blind. Duane Barry peered at her from the other side. Scully gasped just before Barry came crashing through the window. "Come on, lady," he yelled. "Mulder!" He struck her and she fell hard to the floor, the phone sliding out of her reach. Barry grabbed her even as she struggled to crawl away. "I need your help! Mulder!" ~*~*~*~*~ Two hours later, after the worst answering machine message of his life, Mulder planted the front tire of his car on Scully's curb. Cops were already crawling all over the place. Mulder's heart accelerated further as he did not see Scully anywhere. He jogged across the lawn and walked up the stairs. Mulder paused on the landing to stare at the broken window. *I need your help.* He swallowed the rising bile and made himself look inside. The walls seemed to close in on him, the floor tilting beneath his feet. He saw the shattered glass and the blood on her coffee table. Strands of her red hair, pale and faded against the bloody smear, lay trapped on the glass. Somehow, his knees held up. He heard Maggie Scully outside in the hall, demanding entrance. Mulder broke her the bad news: "She's not in there." "I had a dream that Dana was going to be taken away," Mrs. Scully said. "I, uh, I was going to call her. I was afraid it was going to scare her." Mulder stood there, numb. He should be looking for clues. He should be out searching for Scully. "She would have laughed anyway," Mrs. Scully said. "She didn't believe in that sort of thing you know." The door opened then, and Ethan came storming through like a bull. "You," he said, pointing a shaking finger at Mulder. "What the hell are you doing here?" "Ethan, please," Mrs. Scully said. "Are you responsible for this? Is this your work that did this? Have you seen what happened to her in there?" "I saw," Mulder said quietly. "There--there's blood everywhere." He swallowed visibly. "Dana's blood. She's missing. Tell me you know where she is." "I wish I could." "Tell me!" Ethan charged Mulder and shoved him into the wall. "You couldn't leave her alone. You couldn't just let her be happy." Mulder put his hands up but did not resist, pinned under the force of Ethan's anger. "Ethan, stop it," Mrs. Scully pleaded. "This isn't helping." "They're saying Duane Barry did this to her. Is that true?" Mulder said nothing. "Is that true?" Ethan shouted in his face. "It's true." Ethan slammed his shoulders against the wall. "You could have fucking killed him when you had the chance. Why didn't you kill him?" Maggie Scully tried to tug him back. Ethan seemed to fade under Mulder's lack of fight. "You could have killed him," he repeated, anguished and crumbling. His legs gave way, and Ethan sagged against the back wall. Maggie knelt with him. Mulder turned his back on them and watched the men collecting Scully's blood from her living room. He staggered out the front door, standing dazed on her front stoop. Rain dripped on his head, down his ears and slithered cold under his collar. Mulder shielded his face against the bright light of the reporters' cameras. They waited, hot spotlights trained like lasers, waiting to evaporate one of their own. ~*~*~*~ How did you find one small woman on a planet of five billion? In the FBI conference room, Mulder wanted to put his hands over his ears and block out all the voices around him. He was trapped with these two-dozen people, and he was sure that none of them was Scully. That left nine hundred ninety-nine million, nine hundred thousand, nine hundred and seventy-six to go. Skinner kept going back over what happened at the travel agency with Duane Barry. That's over, Mulder wanted to shout. It doesn't matter what happened twelve hours ago. What matters is where he's taking her now, what he's doing to her now. Mulder covered his face with his hands. He felt schizophrenic, unable to regulate the volume of the noise in his head. He had to focus. He had to find her. Skinner delivered the bad news: "I need you to turn over your file to HRT." "I'd like to brief them myself, sir." "Go home, Agent Mulder. You've been up all night. Get some sleep." Mulder leapt to his feet. "Sir, I know Duane Barry. I've been in his head. I know how he thinks." "You're too close to this case." "Sir..." "That's an order, Agent Mulder." Of course he did not go home. He went to his desk in the bullpen, where everyone stopped and stared. Mounted on one corner sat a TV, which was tuned to the news but set on "mute." Scully's picture, taken from her FBI identification, flashed overhead. Missing, it said at the bottom of the screen. Mulder rubbed his scruffed-up face and turned away. Thirty-five sets of eyes followed his slow walk to his desk, where he collapsed in his chair and wondered what the hell he was supposed to do next. Krycek hovered behind him. Skinner had ordered him to get Mulder home, and Mulder figured Krycek was still trying to guess at how to accomplish that short of a forced march at gunpoint. "They're going to find her," Krycek said. Mulder swiveled his chair around. "Oh? You know this for sure? You get secret messages inside your head like Duane Barry, Alex?" "No, I--" "She's been missing over twelve hours now. She could be a thousand miles away." Only she wasn't. She was barely one hundred miles away on route 222. Duane Barry had a run-in with a Virginia state trooper that left the trooper dead and Scully's car in full view of the trooper's camera. Mulder took the tape to the lab himself and had it examined. He and the tech watched as Barry shot the trooper and got out of the car. Barry popped the lid on the trunk. "Right there," Mulder said. "Back it up a few frames. Now magnify this area." "My God," the tech breathed as Scully's face came into view. She lay bound and gagged in the trunk of her own car. Mulder had to tear his gaze away. "She's still alive." Route 222 headed straight to the Blue Ridge Parkway. Ascend to the stars, Duane Barry had said in the travel agency, and now Mulder had a destination. Skyland Mountain. "Get your car," he told Krycek. "What about Skinner?" "I'll deal with Skinner. Just get your car." The road to Skyland Mountain was a strong, thick snake that seemed intent on squeezing the life from the big rock. Krycek's car fishtailed on sharp turns, and Mulder held tight to the wheel. "Maybe I should drive," Krycek said. "I'm fine." "You haven't slept yet. I have." "I said I'm fine." Krycek turned his head to the window. "You really think that he tracked her down with that implant?" "That's the easiest explanation. It's also the most implausible." This got Krycek's full attention. "There's another possibility?" "Someone could have given him her address. I don't know who." Truth, the Smoking Man had said. And consequences. ~*~ After a harrowing tram ride on bouncing cable, Mulder reached the top of the mountain. Night had fallen, the air growing cold. Wind rustled the forest of pine trees around him. Overhead, a bright searchlight poured down from what looked like a military helicopter. Figures, Mulder thought. He wondered who told. Maybe Skinner put two and two together. Mulder ran blindly on until he found Scully's car with the doors open and the radio on. There was blood on the steering wheel and no sign of Duane Barry. Mulder popped open the trunk and braced himself for what he would find inside. The lid rose, revealing the stench of blood and body odor. Stained red rope lay curled in one corner. The trunk light caught something else -- a glittering necklace. Scully. Mulder's awkward fingers picked up her delicate chain and cross. The helicopter grew closer. Or maybe there was more than one of them. Thunderous sound pounded against Mulder's head. The light grew more intense and the wind forced his eyes closed. When the assault subsided, Mulder heard hysterical laughter. "Yes!" cried Barry. Mulder ran through the trees until he reached an open cliff. Barry was dancing like a madman in the waving grass. "Yes, yes!" he hollered. "Federal agent," Mulder yelled. "Where is she?" "Yes!" "Freeze! I said where is she?" Barry made no attempt to flee. He continued his exuberant celebration. "I'm free you sons of bitches! I'm free!" "Where is she?" Mulder demanded again as he cuffed Barry. "They took her." "Who?" "Them! I told you they were going to take somebody else. They did!" ~*~*~ Later, when it was all over, Duane Barry was dead and Alex Krycek had disappeared. Mulder got the X-files back, but he had lost two partners in one short day. He ended up as he started out: alone in the basement with a lot of unanswered questions. He kept staring at the door thinking she would come through it. "No one here but the FBI's most unwanted," he would say, but it of course it wasn't true. He wanted her more than anything. Mulder scrubbed his face with both hands and tried to remember the last time he had changed clothes. He rarely spent time at home anymore. When he wasn't at work, he was driving back and forth to Skyland Mountain. Footfalls in the hall made him sit up straighter. Too heavy to be Scully, but Skinner had started making a habit of dropping by. Mulder did not want to give him any excuse for sending him home. Instead of Skinner, Ethan Minette appeared at his door. "Security let me in," he said. "I'm not sure why." He looked down at his rumpled suit. "I probably look like at least eight guys on the ten most wanted list." "Come in," Mulder said, tossing aside a pencil. "Have a seat." Ethan had to move a stack of folders from the extra chair. Scully's chair. "I didn't come here to fight," Ethan said. "I came here to beg." "Ethan, look--" "Please. There must be something you can do." Ethan leaned forward, as if to spur Mulder into some form of action. "You find missing people all the time, right? It's only been two weeks. People come back after two weeks." Mulder's throat closed off. "We're doing everything we can." "But you, this is your thing. You're Spooky Mulder. You're the best of the best. Please. Dana needs you." "I--I'm trying. I mean, I haven't stopped looking." Ethan leaned back, shoulders slumped. "You don't really think it was aliens." "I don't know what to think right now." "Well, I do. It was a man who took her and some other human being has to know where she is right now. People don't just disappear into the sky on alien spaceships." Mulder said nothing. "They don't!" Mulder held up his hands, not challenging. "You wanted Duane Barry dead. You got your wish. Now we've lost our best lead." "You think that's my fault? I didn't kill him." "I didn't say you did." Ethan stood up and paced the room. "Look, I need something here. Anything. I know the odds. I saw what happened to Patty Waeleski. That little girl is probably..." He swallowed hard in quick succession. "I know what can happen. I just need to know it's possible Dana is okay." Mulder studied the end of his tie. "Please," Ethan said, advancing on him. Mulder sighed. "Duane Barry gave her to whoever abducted him in the first place." "And?" "And Duane Barry came back." Ethan straightened, contemplating this bit of news. "But he was crazy. He was in a mental hospital." "But he was alive." ~*~*~*~ "It's just over here." The night breeze ruffled the trees as Mulder led Willie Holcomb to the edge of Skyland Mountain. "Watch your step here," Mulder said. "Getting chilly these nights," Willie replied, feeling his way along. "You plan on coming up here all winter too?" "If I have to, I will." "Listen, you know how much I want to help you. I'd do anything to help you find Scully. But I just don't know how much I can do in this situation." "Try," Mulder said. "That's all I'm asking." They emerged from the trees into the clearing where Scully had disappeared. Mulder set Willie off to one side. "I came through right here," he said. "Barry was over closer to the edge. He was... He was laughing." "Mulder..." "I had my gun on him." Mulder began re-enacting his confrontation with Barry as if Willie could see. "I came up behind him and asked him where Scully was." His arms wavered under the weight of the imaginary gun. "He said they took her." Willie turned his face to the wind. "You said there were lights in the sky." "Yes. Bright lights. And helicopters. Barry was afraid they were coming back for him. We struggled right here." He tugged Willie into position. "The noises grew louder. I couldn't see. Then suddenly they flew away." "That's it?" Willie asked when Mulder did not say anything further. "That's it." Willie leaned down and touched the ground. "The grass burned any place?" "Not that I saw." "And Barry never told you who did the handoff?" "He never got the chance," Mulder said, disgusted. Willie shook his head. "Terrible thing. Just terrible." He stood up and dusted off his hands. "Mulder, I wish I could help you here." "You can," Mulder insisted. "Just walk around a little. Something will come to you." "I wish that were true, but-" "Just try it," Mulder ordered, giving him a small shove. He tried to force Willie into motion. "Just for a few minutes. This is where Barry was standing." "Mulder!" "There were at least two different aircraft. One was on the left." "Mulder," Willie said again, struggling to break free. "This isn't working." "You can do it." "No," Willie said as he ripped free. "I can't! I'm not a miracle worker, Mulder. I'm just a man." "You're not even giving this a chance!" "I'm just a man," Willie repeated. He grabbed Mulder's shoulders. "Like you are." "I have to find her." "You will." "I have to." Willie hugged him fiercely. "You will. But not here. Not tonight. She's gone from this place, your Scully. You can't keep coming here to relive it. It doesn't help her." Mulder's ragged breathing made him dizzy. He backed away, spent. Willie lifted his face to the sky. "Tell me. The stars, are they very beautiful up here?" Mulder made himself look. The vast expanse of sky glittered overhead. Stars sparked in all directions, the history of space decorated in tiny twinkling lights. "Yeah," he admitted. "It's beautiful." ~*~*~*~*~ End chapter thirteen. Continued in chapter fourteen. Mucho thanks to Amanda for proofing. Any remaining mistakes are mine alone! This would be one of those bumps in the road I mentioned. :-) Feedback welcome at syn_tax6@yahoo.com