~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

UNIVERSAL INVARIANTS

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

by syntax6

Chapter Fifteen: From Here to Eternity

The Yearlings lived in a small, square house with a 
matchbox-sized kitchen.  Mulder felt huge as he crammed 
himself into the tiny room, which already held four 
Yearlings and a floppy-eared mutt.  The dog thumped its 
tail weakly on the vinyl floor, looking from person to 
person as he tried to figure out whether these new visitors 
brought good will or bad.

Mulder himself was not sure yet.

"As you can see, we're in the middle of dinner," said Mrs. 
Yearling.  

"I apologize for the timing," Mulder replied, "but this 
couldn't wait."

Ethan hovered behind him.  If Mulder backed up even a 
fraction, he would be stepping on the other man's toes.

"What is it we can do for you?" Mr. Yearling asked.

The boys, Ryan and Evan, had backed their chairs nearly to 
the corner.

"We're here about Patty Waeleski," Mulder said, watching 
the boys' faces as he spoke.  Evan paled.  Ryan, the older 
one, just looked down at his plate.

"She went to school with Evan," Mrs. Yearling said as she 
moved to stroke her younger son's hair.  "They were all 
upset when she went missing."

"Don't tell me you've found the girl," Mr. Yearling said.

"No, sir," Mulder answered.  "But we think Ryan might be 
able to help us figure out what happened to her."

"Ryan," Mr. Yearling growled.  "What for?  He didn't even 
know the girl."

Ryan looked positively green.

"Is that true, Ryan?" Mulder asked, bending his knees a bit 
to try to catch the teenager's gaze.

"I-- I knew her."

The rest of the family looked at him sharply.  "What?  
How?" his mother asked.

"We met at the CD store."

"That's where she disappeared from," Mrs. Yearling 
whispered.  "I told you not to go back there."

"I haven't!"

"You met at the CD store," Mulder continued softly.  "Is 
that when you started dating?"

"Dating!  She was a just a kid!" Mr. Yearling said. "Ryan's 
in high school.  What would he want with a little girl like 
that?"

Ryan made himself smaller and smaller in his chair.  "She 
was so nice," he said.

"You saw her there that day, didn't you?" Mulder asked.  
"The day she disappeared?"  

Ryan nodded.

Mr. Yearling stepped between Mulder and his son.  "I don't 
know what the hell is going on here, but I've heard enough.  
I think you'd better leave."

"Did you see something, Ryan?" his mother asked.  She 
looked wide-eyed at Mulder.  "Is that why you're here?"

Mulder met the boy's haunted gaze.  "I think Ryan knows 
what happened to Patty."

"Don't say anything, Ryan," Mr. Yearling ordered.

"Where is she, Ryan?" Mulder asked.

"I--I--" Mulder thought the kid was going to pass out.

"You can bring her home, Ryan," Mulder said.  "You can make 
this all be over."

"It's too late," Ryan blurted.

"Ryan!" his father roared.  Evan Yearling had tears running 
down his face.  Ryan gulped deep breaths of air.

"Tell me," Mulder said.

Ryan stared at him, horror twisting his features.  He 
couldn't get the words out.

"Tell me what happened," said Mulder again.

"Patty's dead," Ryan said in the small, cheery kitchen.  
"She's dead."

Ethan stiffened behind Mulder.  Evan threw up all over the 
kitchen table as Mrs. Yearling moved to grab her older son. 
Mr. Yearling seemed too stunned to talk.

"You know where Patty is," Mulder said, and Ryan nodded.  
Mulder steeled himself.  "Show me."

~*~*~*~

It was the middle of the night before they got to the 
river.  Wind shook the trees around them and the cops had 
high-powered search lights trained into the woods as men in 
boots made their way down the riverbank. 

Surrounded by law enforcement, Ryan seemed more like a 
child than a young man; his father kept one arm around him 
as he shivered inside his varsity jacket.

"You and Patty came down here that day?" Mulder asked.

"We used to hang out here all the time.  No one would 
bother us and we didn't have to worry about anyone seeing.  
Her coach would have killed her if he knew."

A diving crew stood nearby dressed in wet suits.  Ryan 
caught sight of them and stopped talking, so Mulder moved 
to block his view.

"What happened, Ryan?"

"We were just horsing around like usual.  Skipping stones 
and stuff."  Ryan stared out at the black rushing water. 
"She said she had to get home but I kept asking her to stay 
a little longer."  He looked up at his father.  "I can't," 
he whispered.

Mr. Yearling rubbed his son's shoulders.  "You have to," he 
said.  "Just tell them."

"It was an accident."  Ryan cast pale, pleading looks at 
Mulder, Ethan and the waiting DC detectives.  "You have to 
understand."

"You were skipping stones," Mulder said.  "Then what?"

Ryan pointed out a fallen tree that stretched across a 
narrow part of the river.  "We were on that log.  Patty 
used to show off doing cartwheels and handstands.  Her 
balance was amazing."

He bit his lip.  Mulder could feel the diving team getting 
restless.  "After you were on the tree what happened?"

"We were walking across it.  Patty was in front of me.  She 
was laughing and making fun of how much easier it was for 
her.  I kidded her.  I said one day she'd fall in and be 
sorry."  His eyes welled and he wiped his palms on his 
jeans.  "I... I pushed her.  It was supposed to be a joke.  
She never falls.  She's like a cat or something."  He 
spread his hands helplessly.  "I didn't think she would 
fall."

"She fell into the river?"

"I didn't mean it.  I swear."  Ryan was openly crying now.

"Which side?" Mulder asked.  

Ryan pointed.  "I reached down but the current was a lot 
stronger than it looked.  She couldn't get out."

One of the divers stepped forward.  "This goes downstream 
to the dam."

Ryan covered his face. "I couldn't get her out.  I tried 
everything."

Mulder dug out his flashlight to follow the diving team 
along the river.  Their footsteps crunched the leaves and 
twigs as they walked.

They reached the short metal dam that bridged the river. 
Ryan turned away, unable to watch as the men walked up to 
the water's edge.

"You get something caught down there, and it just bangs 
over and over again against the wall," one of the divers 
explained quietly to Mulder.  "It's got a pull like you 
wouldn't believe."

"Can you get in there to search?" Mulder asked.

"I wouldn't chance it in the dark like this.  If that girl 
got caught in the dam, she's nothing but bones now."

Mulder looked at the bubbling white foam.

"At least her parents would have something to bury."

Shortly after dawn, the search and rescue team resurrected 
a skull, a pelvis and a handful of other bones from the 
river.

Patty Waeleski was coming home at last.

~*~*~*~

Mulder pulled the car to a stop in front of the Waeleski's 
house.  The cops had held the media off for several hours, 
but if someone did not inform Patty's family soon, they 
would be learning about the bones on the television news.

Ethan was sitting this one out.  He rubbed tired eyes and 
half-slumped against Mulder's passenger side door. 

They had stopped briefly in McDonald's for coffee, at which 
point Mulder had taken the opportunity to shave with a 
disposable razor and wash off his face.  Ethan looked like 
a back-alley bum, but Mulder was going to tell two parents 
that their daughter was dead.  He owed them some respect.

"You stay here," Mulder said.

"Believe me, I will."  Ethan sighed.  "You know what 
absolutely kills me?  She was four miles from home this 
whole time."

"I know."  Patty had been dead long before her family even 
knew she was missing.

"At least no one killed her on purpose.  That has to be 
something, right?  Her parents know she didn't suffer."

"Maybe."  Mulder glanced at front door, stalling.  
"Sometimes I think this is worse than an intentional death.  
You're left wondering why for the rest of your life."

He slid out of the seat and walked slowly up the front 
walk.  Mulder rang the bell, shuffling around awkwardly on 
the stoop as he waited for someone to answer.

The door opened to reveal Barbara Waeleski.  She took one 
look at Mulder and yelled for her husband.  "Tom?  Tom!"

"What is it?" Tom asked as he materialized behind his wife.  
His hair was still wet from his shower.

A moment later Timmy squeezed in front of them.  Tom drew 
the boy back against his legs.  "What's going on?" he asked 
Mulder.

"May I come in?" 

"Patty's dead," Barbara said.  "Isn't she?"

"Please," Mulder replied.  "Let me come in and I'll tell 
you the whole story."

~*~*~*~

Patty Waeleski's family buried her on a sunny, late October 
morning as red trees scraped against a true-blue sky.  
Mulder eyed the casket covered in flowers and remembered 
what the divers had said about Patty's bones.  She had 
emerged in smooth ivory, polished like a stone from the 
rushing water.

Her family sat in the front row, frozen in their grief; 
Timmy dressed as a small undertaker.  

Mulder wondered briefly if it was different for a youngest 
child to lose a sibling.  He had known a time without 
Samantha, but Timmy had been following in Patty's footsteps 
since birth.  He had to blaze his own trail now.

After the service, a bell tolled solemnly from the old 
stone church as the mourners poured out into the sunshine.  
Most of them were kids like Patty herself.  Notably absent 
were Ryan Yearling and the rest of his family.

Mulder lingered off to one side by a fading oak tree.  
Ethan ambled up with his hands stuffed deep into his 
trouser pockets.  He had attended the funeral without a 
camera.

"Nice service," he remarked to Mulder, who nodded in 
agreement.  "You drive past funerals all the time around 
here, but you never really think about the person who died, 
you know?"

"It's not usually a little girl," Mulder replied.

"Yeah.  I guess I've just been thinking about how easy it 
is.  One small slip and you're gone forever."

Mulder watched the pall bearers bring Patty's casket down 
the front steps.  "I keep thinking about the gold medal," 
he said, and Ethan looked at him questioningly.

"What?"

"Next Olympics, some girl will win the medal in Atlanta.  
Maybe it would have been Patty's medal.  Maybe not.  But 
now we'll never know."

~*~*~

After Patty, the days grew shorter, sunlight shrinking and 
weakening under winter's gathering power.  Wind shook dead 
leaves from the trees; they blew brown and restless through 
dark empty streets as Mulder combed his neighborhood on 
foot.

He made himself an open target.  Anyone lurking in the 
shadows had an easy shot. 

You want to come get me? he thought.  Go ahead.

He had never dreamed they'd go through Scully.  In the dark 
game they played, he was the mouse, not her.  The shadow 
men hid under his bed.  The Smoker littered his front walk 
with ash.  They beat him up, drugged him, kidnapped him and 
lied to him.

No one told him they would come for her.

Mulder ran the night streets until his lungs caught fire 
from lack of air.  He ended up doubled-over, heaving as 
sweat chilled his skin.

If she did somehow come back, the kindest thing he could do 
would be to send her away again.  Marry Ethan.  Live in the 
suburbs.  Stay away from the dark man in the trench coat 
who is haunted by UFOs.

Mulder jogged back to his apartment.  He tried to remember 
the last thing he had said to her and couldn't recall the 
words.  Something about Duane Barry; something about the 
case.  He hoped at least his tone was kind.

When he got back to his place, he found Ethan sitting in 
the hall outside his front door.  He held something in his 
hands that resembled a video cassette.  "Minette, this is 
really getting old," Mulder said, still somewhat 
breathless.

Ethan got to his feet as Mulder put the key in the lock.  
"I know.  That's why I came by."

Mulder just looked at him.

"So can I come in?"

There was never a shadowy gunman around when you needed 
one.  "Suit yourself."

They entered Mulder's apartment and Mulder crashed onto the 
sofa.  "Sorry, the maid has the century off."  Ethan sat on 
the edge of the opposite chair, not even bothering to 
remove his coat.

"I'm going back to work," he told Mulder.

Mulder waved one hand in a circle in mock excitement.  
"Thanks for the update.  Does this mean I'll be losing my 
tail?"

"I just wanted you to know I know you did everything you 
could to find Dana."

Not everything.  She wasn't found.  Mulder sighed and sat 
up.  "Listen, as much as I appreciate this little heart-to-
heart we're having--"

"I also know you're in love with her."

Mulder froze.  "What?"

Ethan stretched out and handed him the videotape.  "The 
camera doesn't lie.  See for yourself."

"I don't understand," Mulder said as he looked down at the 
cassette.

"I do."  Ethan gave a crooked smile.  "Because I love her 
too."  He stood up.  "So I'm going back to work.  Maybe you 
should consider doing the same."

"I'm working," Mulder protested.

Ethan shook his head.  "Watch the tape.  I'll get out of 
your hair now, and you don't have to be looking over 
shoulder anymore."  Ethan took a last look around at the 
disarray of Mulder's apartment.  "Take care of yourself, 
okay?  She would want that."

He let himself out without another word, leaving Mulder 
stock-still on the couch with the videotape still in hand.  
He was afraid to pop it in the machine.  What if someone 
had videotaped him and Scully in bed in Arecibo?

Mulder bit his lip and tapped the tape against one palm.  
At last, he took a deep breath and removed it from its 
protective case.  He slipped it into the machine and braced 
himself as the TV flickered on.

But it was not naked, writhing bodies that appeared on his 
screen.  Mulder saw his own face reflected back at him.  He 
was walking along a dark street near his house, looking 
like he could use a shave.

The camera was shaky; clearly Ethan had been working out of 
the front seat of his van by himself.  He watched Mulder 
round the corner and disappear.

The image jumped and Mulder was eating a sandwich on a park 
bench.  He kept looking up at the clouds overhead.

Next Ethan had grabbed him stumbling half-drunk out of the 
Gunmen's lair.  Frohike poured him into a taxi and sent him 
on his way.

Ethan had followed him at least once to Skyland Mountain.  
He caught Mulder sitting on the grass where Scully had 
disappeared into the night.  The camera zoomed in so close 
Mulder could almost see the stars reflected in his eyes.

The last images were of him sitting in his car outside 
Scully's apartment.  Ethan had captured the film from 
inside, from the window where Scully had stood while Duane 
Barry smashed his way into her home.

Mulder looked lost.

His tired, bleary eyes stared at the TV as it faded to 
static.  So much, he thought, for keeping secrets.

~*~*~*~

Mulder used his key to enter her apartment one day while 
Ethan was at work.  He felt guilty returning to the scene 
of the crime without permission, sneaking in like a thief, 
but he had to see for himself.

It no longer smelled like her.  This was the first thing he 
noticed.  It smelled like a bachelor's pad now, even if the 
look remained firmly feminine.

Mulder brushed back one lacy curtain from the window to 
trace the cool, smooth glass.  The blood was gone.  No 
traces of violence lingered on the walls or carpet.

He wandered to her desk and touched the papers and bills 
she had neatly tucked into their respective slots.  The 
calendar was still turned to April.  Scully's neat printing 
appeared on the twenty-second: "dr's appt."  Mulder 
imagined a nurse standing in the waiting room calling her 
name to no avail.

He had the same sense he'd felt in Patty's bedroom, the 
sudden halt of a life interrupted, as though the owner 
would walk back in at any second and resume without a beat.

Mulder touched her things -- picked up her pen, smelled her 
soap in the bathroom, flipped through the book on her 
nightstand.  Scully had been one-third of the way through 
"The English Patient."  

Death and doomed love in the middle of a war, Mulder 
thought as he set the book down.  How appropriate.

He let his fingers linger over the suits in her closet and 
picked up one high-heeled shoe.  Her foot reached barely 
the length of his hand.

Mulder smiled, wistful.

I asked her to marry me, Ethan had told him.  And she said 
yes.

Yes.  He could hear her voice saying the word, breath hot 
in his ear.  Yes, yes, yes.

Mulder squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment and then 
dusted off his hands.  He had no place in this house, with 
Ethan's razor and Ethan's clothes and Ethan's arm around 
Scully in a group of smiling photos.

Maybe Ethan was right.  It was time to go back to work.

~*~*~

If Scully's life had been frozen in time, then Mulder's had 
been packed away like old furniture.  He removed the large 
plastic sheets draped around his basement office and opened 
all the doors to remove the musty smell.

He tucked Scully's glasses and ID away in the X-File 
drawer.  It seemed almost apt that Scully would be filed 
alongside his other greatest mysteries.

Mulder took the first case out of town, as far away as 
possible.  He took his cold heart to the fires of Los 
Angeles and met a woman who was not Scully.

This woman was dark where Scully was light, tall instead of 
short, trembling and frightened where Scully was strong.  
She put her sexuality on display for the world to see -- no 
buttoned up proper suits for her.  For one night, Mulder 
thought he might be able to rescue her from herself.

But then morning came and the woman set herself on fire.  
Mulder considered refraining from sexual relations until 
the year 2089.

He traveled six thousand miles and found himself right back 
where he started from, only scratched-up, smoke-filled and 
singed around the edges.  At night he lay on his sofa, 
fingering the cross at his neck, and watching himself on 
Ethan's tape.  His eyes glazed over, bags puffing 
underneath, but Mulder played the tape on an endless loop.

He never did find what he was looking for.

~*~*~*~

Mulder stopped his car at the address Mrs. Scully had given 
him.  She stood in front of the store window, shading her 
eyes and giving him a small wave.  Mulder's eyes rose to 
check out the store's name: Martin Memorial.

Natural granite headstones.

Mulder cut the engine and stared.  She could not be 
serious.

Maggie Scully walked over to the passenger side door and 
leaned down.  "Are you coming?" she asked him through the 
window.

Mulder forced wobbly legs out of the car.  "Hi, Mrs. 
Scully."

"Hello, Fox.  Thank you for meeting me."

Mulder eyed the storefront again.  "Of course.  I'm a 
little curious about what we're doing here."

She gave him a sad smile.  "I wanted to show you something.  
Dana's family, and Ethan of course, we've been talking and 
we think it's time to honor Dana."

"Honor?  With a gravestone?"

"Please," she said, "just come have a look."

"It would be an empty grave.  You don't even know she's 
dead.  I can't believe you would give up on her this 
quickly.  Where is the honor in that?"

"How long would you wait?  Six months?  A year?  Ten?  At 
some point you have to let Dana go in peace."

"It's only been a few months."

"Months without a single lead."  She stroked his upper arm.  
"Dana's gone, Fox.  I know my daughter.  If she were alive, 
we would have heard from her by now."

"With all due respect, Mrs. Scully, I don't think you have 
all the facts here."

"What facts?  You know something about Dana's whereabouts 
that I don't?"

"No," he conceded.  "It's just a feeling."

"Please come in with me," she said.  "Just for a minute."

Mulder still hesitated.  "What did Ethan say about all 
this?"

"He's seen the marker," Mrs. Scully replied softly.  "We 
have his blessing."
Mulder wondered if this was a Solomon-like test; her true 
love wouldn't give up, would he?

Reluctantly, Mulder let Scully's mother take him inside the 
store to view the headstone.

Dana Scully, it read.  Beloved Daughter and Friend.

~*~*~

This time it was Mulder waiting for Ethan outside the front 
door.  Ethan parked his van and came up the steps, looking 
surprised to find Mulder waiting on the stoop.

"How could you do that to her?" Mulder wanted to know.  
"You're just giving up!"

Ethan did not answer for a long minute.  "It wasn't my 
idea," he said finally.

"Her mother said she had your blessing."

"Her mother needs some way to deal with this.  I'm choosing 
to support that."

"You think she's dead," Mulder challenged, daring him to 
deny it.

Ethan looked down at the sidewalk.  "Does it matter what I 
think?  It doesn't bring her back."

"Don't you even want to know what happened?"

Ethan looked at him -- or through him -- Mulder wasn't sure 
which.  "I keep hoping it was like Patty, that she didn't 
suffer.  Wherever she is, I hope it's beautiful there.  I 
hope she's happy.  I hope she knows I loved her."

"So that's it.  You'll put a headstone on an empty grave 
and call that resolution.  You think that's any kind of 
peace?  There can't be peace without answers, peace without 
justice.  Maybe you can pretend everything is over, but I 
can't live like that."

Ethan tilted his head.  "But you can live like this?  
You'll spend the rest of your life chasing a ghost?  I look 
at you.  I look what happened with your sister and how 
awful that was.  I see you living in tragedy all these 
years later.  Do you really think that's what Dana would 
want?  For you, for me, for any of us?"

"Scully cares about justice.  She cares about the truth!"

Ethan took a long time with his reply.  When he spoke, his 
tone was kind.  "Mulder," he said, "what if this is the 
truth?"

~*~*~

Six days later, Mulder was alone in his apartment when the 
phone rang.  "Hello?" he said dully.

"Fox Mulder?" asked an unfamiliar voice.

Mulder closed his eyes and cut off the sales pitch.  
"Listen, I don't want to change my long distance, okay?  I 
don't need any aluminum siding, and I have sixty-five 
credit cards already."

"Agent Mulder, this is Doctor Valero at Northeast 
Georgetown Medical Center.  You are listed in Dana Scully's 
medical records as her primary emergency contact."

"I am?"  Mulder planted bare feet on the floor.

"Dana Scully was admitted this morning into intensive 
care."

"What?"  Already he began to run.

"Her condition is critical.  I suggest you get here as soon 
as possible."

"I'm coming.  Tell her I'm coming."

~*~*~*~*~

End chapter fifteen.  Continued in chapter sixteen.

Many thanks to Amanda for the top-notch beta!  You are cool 
like Mueller!

All feedback welcome at syn_tax6@yahoo.com