Title:  Brilliant Disguise (1/1)
Author:  Maraschino
Feedback to:  maraschino@ibm.net

Archive status:  Just keep my name and addy attached, please.

Disclaimer:  Not mine.  Never will be.  Not making money.  'Nuff said.

Rating:  PG-13 for one bad word

Category:  SA

Summary:  Sometimes a slap in the face is just what the doctor ordered.

~~*~~

	With the file papers from Oklahoma strewn over the floor, the 
door to the X-Files office slammed open, the walls shaking in protest.  
A pair of high heels stormed out, sharp protrusions coming down so 
hard that their imprints were engrained into tile.

	Scully angrily wiped at her eyes, watching black tinged tears roll 
lazily down the back of her hand.  She pushed hard against her closed lids 
in frustration when she realized she had made the mascara lines worse.  
She heard something hit the wall behind her and then fall noisily to the 
floor.  Expletives flowed unhindered through the open doorway, and the 
walls shook again when the door was forcefully slammed shut.

	The tears ran down her face; the sobs were harder to stifle as her 
mind replayed every angry word and barbed insult.  She could still remember 
the feeling of blood rushing to her face, the way Mulder's glare had 
turned into twin lasers when he had slammed his hand against the desk to 
make a point.

	"Walk away, Scully!  Just like you always do."  There was a choked 
pause, and his muffled voice turned softer, more resigned.  "Don't come 
back."

	The make up in her eyes stung, and she stumbled up the steps, her 
legs turning into jello.  Something in her gut wanted to explode, and 
Scully forced one leg to move after another.

	She would not the give the door to the X-Files office a second 
glance.

~~*~~

The Dissolution

	It was one phone call, and his entire world went black.

	Despite what had happened in the office, Scully's plaintive cry 
made his feet move, made him clear out of his apartment and into his car 
towards Boscher's Run Park in fear that he would once again be too late.

	"Mulder.  Help."

	It ran like a mantra through his head.  His legs pounded against 
the pavement, his arms pumped, and his chest heaved as he ran towards 
the invisible voice.

	Hold on, he pleased mercilessly.  Forget her stoic cynicism.  
Forget her increasingly annoying disbelief in the face of the paranormal 
truth.  Forget her long suffering 'I'm fine's'.  Grinding his teeth, 
sweat fell off his brow, slid down his back underneath the camouflage 
of night.  

	The bridge was deserted, and metal reverberated as his steps 
pounded against the grating.

	Her voice grew faint, and Mulder felt his throat well up.  He 
couldn't breathe, couldn't force air into his lungs.  Desperation fueled 
his movements, and Mulder's mind screamed.  Not again,notagain,notagain... 

	His eyes tracked the darkness frantically.  "Scully!"  He turned 
around.  Three sixty.  Seven twenty.  Three turns and there was nothing 
to see.  His hands had a firm grip on his automatic, but his arms were 
shaking. 
	
	"Scully!"  His voice was unable to carry; the wind was killing it. 
He blinked, and her faint outline appeared.  She stood by herself, and he 
felt heart thundering relief wash over him.  "Scully!"

	The fog grew stronger, and his partner's silhouette began to 
disappear.  His cry was caught in his throat as invisible hands grabbed 
him, pulling him towards the railing.  Over the railing.  He felt his 
fingers protesting, sweat lubricating the grip he had on the metal lifeline.

	"Scully!" he ground out, feeling sickly sweat trickle down his 
back, sting across his eyes.  "Help me!"  His arms burned, and the iron 
clad grip was still on his feet, trying to pull him down into the black 
water below.

	He yelled his partner's name, feeling his throat start to give out.  
He sobbed in relief when he watched her walk cautiously towards where he 
was struggling.

	He watched her, suddenly wary, looking for any signs that she was 
injured.  "Scully," he managed through gritted teeth, as his right arm 
lost its grip and dangled uselessly at his side.  "Help.  Please.  
Something... someone's got me."

	Her eyes showed her lack of comprehension.

	"My feet!" he emphasized, feeling his left arm start to grow numb.  
His body's weight was being supported by four fingers and a thumb.  There 
was another jerk on his feet, and he felt his grip faltering.  "Scully," 
he whispered, feeling something turn cold inside of him.

	She looked at him, her blue eyes turning dark.  "I don't believe 
you."  She shot him a pointed glare, and then turned on her heels.

	Mulder's grip faltered, and his right hand flailed for a railing 
that was already gone.

	He fell.

~~*~~

	She opened the door, feeling the chill, even in the lobby of her 
apartment.  Her mouth pursed when she saw the figure at the door, but she  
made no comment, made no attempt to close the door.

	"What do you want, Mulder?"

	Her anger abated somewhat when she watched him shiver.  He looked 
so lost; his hair was plastered to his face, his eyes were black pools 
despite the light streaming from her apartment.  She felt a sigh within 
her begin to build.

	This was one argument that she would not blink first to.  He had o
ffended you, she reminded herself.  Scoffed at the validity of her 
religious beliefs.  The revival in Oklahoma had only added salt into old 
wounds.

	"Scully."  He spoke her name as a fact, nodding his head slightly.  
"Can we talk?"  He gestured outside.

	She chanced a glance towards the window, watching wind slap rain 
into the glass.  "Out there?"

	He shrugged, his clothes dripping, his breaths coming in and out 
in a hitched rhythm.  "Let's take a walk," he said softly, extending his 
hand.

	She regarded the gesture dubiously, furrowing her eyebrows, 
refusing the act of chivalry.  She grabbed her jacket, lifting the hood to 
tuck her hair in carefully.  They walked through the lobby, into the 
street, and soon, Mulder directed her into a corner.

	"Mulder?"

	His face had lost all color, and he smiled crookedly.  "I'm sorry, 
Scully."

	"Sorry for what?"  She wondered why there was fear in her voice, 
and the person beside her remained silent.  "Mulder?"

	He looked up at the sky, his face metamorphosing to exude a boyish 
charm.  "Look up."

	She hesitated, feeling cold dread seep into her gut.

	He nodded encouragingly.  "Look up, Scully."

	She looked up, seeing nothing but ominous black clouds, littered 
by an abnormally few number of stars.  She opened her mouth to ask what 
she was looking for when Mulder's hand clamped over her mouth.  She gasped 
in surprise, tasting her partner in her mouth.   She caught one last look 
into unfathomable eyes before her entire world turned black.

~~*~~

The Inquisition

	Fox Mulder woke up slowly, feeling as if his head had been leveled 
by a two by four.  Raising a hand experimentally, he hissed when the cut 
complained, his fingers now sporting a coat of blood.  

	He stood up gingerly, his feet unsteady, hearing gulls in the 
background and waves crash into the shore.  He almost fell backwards when 
he saw a pair of big blue eyes staring in his direction.

	He opened his mouth to speak, but no words ventured forth.  Emily 
Sims was standing next to him, white strips of cloth in her right hand.  
Her other hand was held out placatingly, as a mother would do to a 
frightened child.

	"Don't be afraid," she spoke.  She gently touched his head, 
applying and knotting the strips of cloth efficiently.  Mulder stared at 
her face as she finished her ministrations, unable to equate her actions 
with the four year old face.

	An emotion welled inside of his chest, and Mulder knew that there 
was someone missing from this picture.  His mouth opened to question how 
he had gotten onto shore when Emily offered a shy smile, grabbing his 
hand to lead him closer to the water.

	"Are you hungry?  I bet you are."

	Mulder watched, dumbfounded as fish were caught and water collected.  
"Emily," he managed finally.  "What are you doing here?"

	"I'm here to prove that I exist."

	He stared into her eyes, not comprehending.  "But," he spoke 
haltingly.  "You're dead."

	"And behold I am alive forever more."

	He squinted suspiciously, disbelief etched into his face.  "You're
not God."

	Emily smiled.  "Such a skeptic, Fox.  I gave you food and drink."  
She paused to touch his head, and Mulder numbly registered that it no 
longer ached.  "I healed you.  What further evidence do you need?"

	Mulder shook his head in denial, instinctually moving back.  

	"What are you so afraid of, Fox?"  Emily's eyes lost their youthful 
exuberance to challenge him.

	"Too many people die everyday.  People kill, citing your words as 
Scripture.  I can't believe in that kind of God."

	"Aliens hurt and kill people."

	"But believing in aliens and believing in God is different."

	"How?"

	Mulder ignored the question, verbalizing his logic slowly.  "You 
died.  Or, if you're God, you let Emily die."  A sliver of memory entered 
his consciousness, and the next sentence stuck like tar in his throat.  
"Part of Scully died that day too."  His set his face resolutely.  "And I 
refuse to believe that she deserved that."  He paused, speaking more softly.  
"I don't why she continues to believe."

	"It's not about who deserves what," she explained slowly.  "It's 
about a greater plan."  She paused.  "But I know there's more that you're 
not saying, Fox."

	Mulder felt tears welling in his eyes, and he swiped at them 
angrily, cursing his show of weakness.  "There's nothing else," he reported 
stubbornly.

	"Explain to me, Fox.  Why can aliens cause harm, in your viewpoint, 
but not God?"

	Emily's eyes remained fixated on him, and Mulder's resentment grew.  
"God is supposed to be this magnificent omniscient being to his followers," 
he said the statement with bitter sarcasm.  "Emily, her mother, and Scully 
didn't deserve it.  Human shadows walk the streets every day killing 
innocent people, without any reckoning.  Samantha and I..."

	He stopped suddenly, realizing his slip.  

	Emily reached over to grab his knee, her eyes radiating their 
reassurances.  "Now, I think we're getting somewhere."

~~*~~

	Scully opened her eyes slowly, experimentally, surrounded by a 
myriad of beeps and blips.  Alone, in an ocean of tile, unable to fathom 
how she had landed into a hospital yet again, she blindly groped for a 
call button.  

	The mechanical static was deafening, and she was glad to hear a 
human voice seconds later. 
	
	"Oh!  You're finally awake!"

	A nurse with a wide smile started to check the readings on all the 
instruments, and Scully turned her head, trying to get a sense of time.  
Of place.  "How..." her voice was two tones huskier than usual, and she 
coughed awkwardly.  "How long have I..." she trailed off, suddenly fearful 
of the answer.  

	"Eight months."

	The words rebounded painfully in her head, and she looked around 
blindly for comfort, finding no one.

	"Are you looking for your FBI friend?" the nurse asked too 
cheerfully.  She started writing down values in the metal clipboard in her 
hand as she talked.  "He's right outside, actually.  I'll go get him."

	Scully pulled her bed sheets up to her chin, closing her eyes, 
knowing that she was forgetting something important.  Something about Mulder.  

	She heard her door re-open, and she inhaled quickly, realizing and 
then quickly denying how much she wanted Mulder's comfort at the moment.  
She failed to hide her disappointment as Skinner approached her with his 
perpetually worried expression, a buff coloured file folder in his hand.

	"Sir?" she questioned, unable to mask the surprise in her address.

	Skinner sighed.  "Agent Scully, I can't accept this report."

	She looked at it warily, licking her lips, wondering why Skinner 
was bringing up the subject now in her hospital room.  Bewildered, she 
realized she couldn't even remember what the last case she had worked 
on was.  "I'm sorry, sir.  You'll have to refresh my memory."

	He took off his glasses in one fluid motion.  "Ee is equal to em 
see squared, Agent Scully?" he asked dubiously.

	Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  "What about it?"

	Skinner sat down, his gaze intense.  "I can't accept this report 
without some proof."

	"Proof of what?"

	Skinner leaned in closer, wary of Big Brother.  "I cannot allow you 
to pursue these forays into science," he said the word as if it was a 
disease.  "Not without adequate evidence."

	She grabbed the report from Skinner's hands, skimming over it.  The
sentence structure and vocabulary sounded like her.  She read the words 
blindly, her eyes coming to rest on Mulder's damning statement that there 
was no evidence to support her claims.  She glanced quickly at the hospital 
walls, willing herself to wake, wondering what sort of screwed up nightmare 
she had entered.  When no relief came, she roughly skipped to the last 
page, seeing her own signature mocking her.

	Scully stared at Skinner silently, wide eyed.  "There's no evidence 
of Einstein's theory?" she asked incredulously.

	There was no recognition in the AD's eyes, and a horrible 
realization dawned on Scully.  "No science," she whispered to herself.

	"Look, Scully.  Agent Mulder was assigned to ascertain the validity 
of your work, but reading these reports..." he trailed off, his 
disappointment evident.  

	Something within Scully exploded.  "The validity of science?"  She 
sat upright.  "The reason why I'm sitting on this bed is because of 
gravity."  She spoke passionately, her fist pounding into her hand, 
ignoring Skinner's startled reaction.  "Force is equal to mass times 
acceleration.  Newton's Second Law."

	She stared at her boss, but it was as if she had spoken a foreign
 language to him.  "How did I wake up, just now, eight months later without 
medicine, sir?"

	"You were healed," Skinner spoke softly, "by one of the hospital 
gypsies."  He shook his head slowly.  "There is always a paranormal 
explanation."

	Scully felt the words pass numbly through her lips.  "But what the 
paranormal cannot explain, may we finally turn to science for answers."

	Skinner bowed his head in resignation.  "Your claims have already 
made you unpopular at work."  She opened her mouth the protest, but Skinner 
quieted her with a look.  "Evidence.  That's all I'm asking for."  He put 
his glasses back on and started to walk back towards the door.

	Scully stared at his retreating figure before realizing she had to 
make Skinner see.  She had to prove that she was right, and everyone else 
was wrong - fuck the ridicule.  "Science just is!" she shouted to his back.  
"It exists!"  The room was empty, and she sagged deeper into her covers.

	"It's here," she whispered to no one but herself.

~~*~~

	When Mulder awoke again, stars littered the sky, and the water had 
turned black.  Small fingers were running through his hair, and he looked 
up, expecting to see Emily's large eyes.  He startled upright when hazel 
eyes and braided pig tails stared back at him bemusedly.

	"Sam," he whispered.  

	"Hi, Fox."

	His eyes traveled over her entire figure, and he closed his eyes in 
relief when it appeared she was unharmed.  He pulled her towards him, 
hugging her tiny figure fiercely.    

	"I want you to know something, Fox."  She paused, waiting till he 
had his full attention.  "I love you."

	A smile broke out on his face, the brilliant show of teeth at odds 
with the tears that were falling.  "I love you too, Sam," he managed to 
choke out.  "I always have."

	Samantha extracted herself from his grip, speaking in a softer tone.  
"I know that.  I feel it here," she placed a hand on her chest, over her 
heart.  "I can see everything in you, Fox, because I'm your sister."  She 
paused, reflecting.  "But, outside of this," and she pointed to their 
general surroundings, "you have to use these."  She pointed to her lips, 
"to speak what you're feeling here," she finished putting a hand on his 
chest.

	Mulder bowed his head in shame.  "I'm sorry I never told you, Sam," 
he whispered.

	"You were never too late with me," she smiled reassuringly.  "I 
always knew.  But," she sobered, "there are others I would be worried about 
being late with."

	She stood up, watching Mulder puzzle over her words.  "I have to go 
now."

	The statement jerked him into full attention.  "You can't," he 
pleaded, desperation already entering his voice.  He instinctually moved 
closer into his sister's personal space.  "You just got here."

	She looked up to the sky, hearing thunder rumble overhead.  "I have 
to."

	"No, please," he grasped onto her hand.  "I have so many things to 
say."

	"I already know, Fox."  A bright spot light centered on her figure, 
and she began levitating upwards.  She calmly disentangled her hand from 
his.  "I have to go," she mouthed.

	"Samantha!  Don't leave!" 

	The thunder stopped, and the shore was dark once again.  Mulder 
kneeled in the sand, digging his fingers into the sand.  "Please," he 
whispered, wondering why the refrain sounded vaguely familiar.   "Don't 
ditch me."

~~*~~

	Scully stared at the figure standing at the doorway incredulously, 
tears of relief already starting to form.  "Mom?"

	Margaret Scully rushed over towards her daughter's bedside, 
embracing Scully fiercely.  "Oh Dana, I had thought... I was sure that 
we had lost you."

	The tears fell onto her cheeks unabashedly.  "No, no," she 
reassured.  "I'm here.  It's okay."  She sighed, feeling safe for the 
first the first time since she had woken up.  "Oh mom," she murmured into 
her shoulder.  "I don't know what's happening anymore."

	Margaret held onto her daughter tighter, cooing words of comfort.

	Something warm seeped through her thin hospital gown at the 
shoulder, and Scully gently pulled her mother away.  The spot of red 
underneath her mother's nose made her blood run cold.

	"Mom," her voice shook.  "Your nose."

	Margaret touched her lip, looking at the blood indifferently.  
"Just a nose bleed.  I'm fine, sweetie."

	Blood continued to drip from her nose, and Scully wondered why her 
mother wasn't looking for a Kleenex or handkerchief.

	"Mom," she asked, hating that it sounded like she was twelve years
old again.  "What's happening?"

	"Nothing.  I'm fine."

	Scully shook her head, watching as her mother's countenance was 
turning pale.  "You're bleeding."

	"Dana!" she intoned sharply.  "I'm fine!"  Margaret slumped into a 
nearby chair, the blood falling onto the floor, sounding like a leaky faucet.

	Scully reached for the call button by her bed, but her mother got 
up with a speed that defied her age, and pulled out the cord with a strength 
that she did not possess.  "Dana!  I'm fine!"

	She watched hopelessly as her mother collapsed to the floor, her 
complexion white, her figure rapidly withering into a sack of skin and 
bones.  She ran to the door, pounding in frustration when she found it was 
locked.  She put her mouth to the door, screaming so hard that her vocal 
cords shook, wondering why no one outside cared.

	She ran back to her mother, kneeling, reaching for a cold, clammy 
hand.  

	"Mom," she whispered brokenly, ignoring the gasps for air.  "Why 
won't you let me help you?"

	Margaret Scully smiled before closing her eyes.  "Tit for tat."

~~*~~

A Resolution

	He was reaching for his keys, ready to head to Annapolis, when 
there was a knock on his door.  Mulder stared at the wooden panel 
momentarily, trying to collect his thoughts.

	He already knew who his visitor was, and before he could change 
his mind, he opened the door hastily.  

	He stared at his partner, noticing that her eyes were no longer 
shooting the ice missiles that they had been this morning.  He caught a 
glimpse of her blue silk pajamas underneath her trench coat.  

	"I was just getting ready to come over to your place," he started 
nervously.  "I was gambling on the chance that you would be awake."

	Scully smiled weakly.  "I was awake," she said, shrugging her 
shoulders.  "I woke at around three, but couldn't go back to sleep."  

	Mulder nodded, noting that his sleeping situation paralleled hers.  
He motioned her inside, and she watched him open his mouth as if to say 
something, but then rapidly close it.  She gingerly sat on the couch, while 
Mulder sat directly across from her on the coffee table.

	They shared a strained smile, and when their eyes caught, they 
spoke in unison.

	"I think we should talk."

~~*~~
~~*~~

THE END

Feedback to:  maraschino@ibm.net

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