******** Part 3/? ---------- Part Three The tape sat between them on a desk. It was just a plain videocassette without a label or any marking of any kind. And Scully would have sold her soul to see it. "I'm his partner, *Doctor* Doyle. I have listened to two previous hypnosis sessions of his, as he has sat in on one of mine. We have total trust in one another. He would *want* me to see it." Doyle rubbed his eyes, opened his mouth and then closed it. He was so careful with his words, never saying something too quickly, always stopping to think before each voiced thought, each action. It was a quality she disliked on principal. People who had to temper their actions this much must have something to hide. "I promised him, Ag--Scully. I may not know him as...*well* as you, but I can see what a promise means to him." His sad soft brown eyes asked her to understand. She didn't want to understand. She wanted to get what she needed from this man and find Mulder. And she didn't want to need him. "Do you know, Doyle, that I am listed as Mulder's next of kin? That he is the witness to my living will? That I--" she stumbled suddenly. "That I feed his fish?" Oh my god. She did not just say that. Doyle laughed and shook his head. "Fish," he muttered. "How original in its unoriginality. How very...J. D." 'Original in its unoriginality?' Only Mulder would get a therapist who would surmise a personality trait from owning fish. How very...Mulder. She frowned at him. This man didn't know him. He couldn't possibly understand Mulder after a few short days. It had taken her years to get the basic mannerisms down pat...and she still managed to misread him. (Isn't 'misread' too pale a word for your betrayal? You suspected him of terrorism for god's sake.) "It's my job. To know people, to learn them." "You think you've *learned* Mulder?" He ran his fingers along the spine of the tape thoughtfully. "No," he said softly. "Do you think you have?" Why did the world think it was their duty to fuck with her head? She caught his gaze and held it steadily. "I apologize, Agent Scully. That was out of line." 'Agent.' She didn't seem to be winning trust here. He looked at her tiredly, his face pale and drawn, reminiscent of Mulder after a long, grueling case. Which in a sense was what this was for him. A case, charted by pure luck or fate or whatever. None of this was his fault. She just wanted it to be, to put a name to this hell, identify it in the hopes of ending it. Christ. "No...I'm sorry. You're right. You made him a promise." He seemed slightly surprised at her small capitulation. "I, uh..." Again the same hesitation before he spoke. "Could you tell me about the other sessions?" She swallowed. *Would* this be considered a betrayal by Mulder? She stared at Doyle. Seeing...seeing what? Large lovely grave eyes in a long pale face. His hair color reminded her of Mulder's. The only word for it would be dark. The word 'brown' didn't do justice to it's brilliant color. Around the edges, near the hairline, a smidgen of gray. A hint of things to come. A reminder of years spent well in service to others. Each feature of his face was separately beautiful, but together they formed a handsomely sad picture. Mulder's features were almost ridiculously extravagant alone, yet when placed together managed to create the same impression. Of a good man. She sucked in her breath. "This is going to sound...crazy." He grinned suddenly, laugh lines deepening in his face. "Creative, Scully. That's what we call it here. Creative." ---------- Byers was sleeping peacefully in the back seat, dreaming of hospital halls and dark psych wards, when the pounding on the side of the car woke him. Short of breath and dazed, he struggled to see out the window. Only a dark figure waited for him. Slowly, very slowly, he reached for the door handle and the door popped open, creaking slightly in protest. "Scully?" He had only gotten half way out of the car when he felt himself lifted...oh...god...in the air. The large hands grabbed him by the shoulders and held him painfully in midair for a long moment before he was dropped harshly to the ground. He craned his neck to see the impassive face stare down at him. "W-Who are you?" He distantly heard ringing. Whether it was in his ears or from his cell phone, he couldn't tell. The pale, colorless eyes shimmered down on him. The--man slipped his hands into his pocket and flung something to the ground. "Find him. Before they dispose of him. And they will." And before he could blink or move he was gone. Vanished. Grappling on the ground, he found a small plastic object just under the front tire. A cassette tape. It took him another second for the ringing sound to sink in. His cell phone. He crawled, his body shaking, shivering, although it was a warm spring night, to the front seat. He could barely press the power button, his hands were so unsteady. "Byers," he gasped. He slammed the door shut and locked every door, checking them twice. "It's me." Her voice was calm, surprisingly soothing. He swallowed and closed his eyes. When he didn't say anything she continued, "I've found the hospital that he was admitted to and the doctor that treated him. He was found, dropped in front of the ER, no significant injuries, although they had to sedate him." Wouldn't be the first time. "Apparently he had been through a very difficult experience." He could practically *hear* the exhaustion in her voice. If he hadn't been so terrified and if he could feel his legs he might have managed to be ashamed by the cruel thought. "For about a week he worked closely with a therapist, named Doyle. Until yesterday when a woman matching the description of Marita Covarrubias and another man claiming to be Mulder's regular psychiatrist got to him." He concentrated on the pounding he heard in his ears. That he felt in his blood. "Byers? Look I really appreciate your help, but I--" "Scully." "Byers?" "I have a cassette. It was given to me by a man...who couldn't have been human." "I'm not sure--" "He lifted me like a rag doll, *Scully*. I'm damn sure he wasn't a man." He heard air hiss through the line. "Play it. Over the phone." Keys. Keys...he checked his pockets...and then he saw them in the dirt. Outside of the car. So this is what it came to. A test of courage. To get his keys. Mulder got to triumph over the forces of darkness threatening the Earth and he got to go for his keys. "Hold on." Holding his breath he managed to unlock the door, open it, dive for the keys and jump back into the car in a matter of seconds. Medal of Valor here we come. If only he could breathe. He turned the car on and slipped the tape in and held the phone close to the front speaker so she could hear. Voice 1: Victoria Falls. 911. What is your emergency? Voice 2: (Whispering) Look, I need help...please. Voice 1: You'll have to speak up, sir. Tell me what the problem is. Voice 2: (Hoarse, desperate) Please...these people...they might be listening... Voice 1: What people? Sir, where are you? Voice 2: (distant, muttering) It's not real. Fake. Movie set. Voice 1: Sir, please, tell me what's happening. Where are you? What the hell...shit...(sound of distant shouts)...(muffled yell) I can't get a trace. Hold on, sir. Something is interfering. Voice 2: (Choked laughter/sob) 'Something' is right, lady. Try a ton of reinforced steel, a mile in the ground. Voice 1: (Calm) I'm sorry, sir. I can't answer your call. Voice 2: Please! Call Dr. Sam Doyle. St. Anne's hospital-- Byers held the phone to his ear with his shoulder and opened the glove compartment, a pile of papers falling to the ground. "Scully...I'm checking the index of my maps...Victoria Falls...Victoria Falls..." Victoria Place...Victoria Circle...dammit. He threw the Maryland map, unfolded and torn, in the back seat. "Scully," he said, unfolding the Virginia map. "Scully?" "Don't bother," she said distantly. "It won't be there." Slowly he put the map down. "You're thinking--Military?" And he heard--soft laughter. Soft, terrible laughter. "Oh, Byers. I envy your naivete." He felt his shoulders bunch painfully. "I AM going to call Langly. Keep in touch." And then he hung up on her. ---------- Looking at Doyle's ashen face, she was relieved he hadn't had to hear the call. She knew that Mulder's doomed, hopeless plea for him would stay with him forever. Just as hers for Mulder almost four years ago would forever follow Mulder. "I won't pretend...to truly comprehend this, Scully--" Again he spoke slowly, but now she knew it wasn't because he had something to hide. It was something else entirely... "--but...I've seen a part of what it's done to him." "As have I." He nodded. "I know that now." A gentle reminder of what she had said (quite a bit), what she should have said (a hell of a lot less, she could hear Mulder say with amusement), and what she *hadn't* said. "He dreamed of that night." Doyle said this staring at his nameplate, expressionless. Funny. Thousands of nights in one life, yet Scully knew there was only one night to follow Mulder, even breaking past the barrier of amnesia. "He called her name." A little laugh escaped from Doyle's lips. "I was actually arrogant enough to think he was calling me." And of course there was only one her to dominate Mulder's life in this way. Scully hated her. With every ounce of her body, every molecule. She hated a little girl who could ruin lives this way. It was a terrible feeling, unworthy of anyone, but her love for him was stronger. Doyle looked up. "But he remembered he dreamed about you." Scully took the coffee mug he handed her and stared at him blankly. "I'm sorry?" "He dreamt you were holding him, Scully. He said he felt safe. With you." "Safe." She slammed the coffee cup down forcefully. Doyle blinked. And smiled. "Scully--" FIVE years, Doyle. Five loooong years. And the man comes up with Safe! "Scully--I don't think he meant it that way--" "One in five billion, my *ass*," she muttered. "He also said that you two were the only light in the darkness." Oh. Doyle smiled at her again and it suddenly occurred to her how kind and father-like he was. But in a good way. She sipped her coffee and lowered her eyes. "I can live with that." "I thought you could." END Part 3/?