Title: Never Seen (Formerly - Disoriented) Author: FirePhile Spoilers: 3rd Season Rating: R Category: XA Keywords: M/S Friendship, Conspiracy Warnings: Rape and Disturbing Content Summary: During a routine case Scully's trust in Mulder is put to the test when it appears that he is not what he seems.... Disclaimer: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, etc. belong to the actors that portray them, CC&Co. , 10-13 productions, and Fox Television Network. The characters that you don't recognize, belong to me. All Movies, TV shows, famous people, magazines, books and music mentioned belong to the respective companies, or themselves. No copyright infringement is intended. "Blowing in the Wind" is by Bob Dylan and used without permission. As is "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails. Author's notes and thanks after story. I love feedback and I answer all my mail, so write me at FirePhile@aol.com to tell me what you liked or what you didn't like, constructive criticism is welcomed. Flames are ignored. Final Revision started February 25, 1998 - May 1998 "There were terrifying, sudden moments when objects, concepts and even people that the chaplain had lived with almost all his life inexplicably took on an unfamiliar and irregular aspect that he had never seen before and which made them seem totally strange: jamais vu." - Joseph Heller, Catch-22 Chapter 1 New York City March 20, 1996 5:00 PM Kara Soren paid the driver and hobbled out of the taxi. She slipped on some ice and stood up again. Unfortunately, she'd banged the same knee which she had hurt earlier. In her left hand she clutched a letter, one which was very important to her. He wanted to see her again. Secretly, she hoped this meant that he wanted to get back together. Even though she hadn't seen him in almost five years, part of her still loved him. She walked up the stairs and fumbled with her key. She'd just moved out of her fiancee's place about two weeks beforehand and had finally finished putting her stuff back where it belonged. She'd actually had some fantasies about marriage and kids, but when she caught John in the arms of not one, but two other women, the dream crumbled. However, she was moving on and perhaps this letter was a sign, a continuation of a past romance. He wanted to meet around eight o' clock at a restaurant that was about two blocks away. She glanced at the clock on her wall. It was only five fifteen , she could rest for a few minutes. She shivered and turned up the heat. Her Greenwich Village apartment was located above a music store and she could hear "the answer my friends, is blowin' in the wind--the answer is blowin' in the wind," through the floorboards. She flopped down on the couch, which was a soft patterned thing from Ikea, tossed the letter onto her coffee table and turned on the television. She took her dark hair out of its ponytail and shook her head slightly. Her left knee was starting to swell and hurt. She stood up to get ice and heard a scratch at her window. She turned her head towards the sound. As she looked at the window, her electricity went out. She cursed loudly and started walking towards her door when an eerie glow surrounded her. She shivered. Suddenly, something grabbed her upper arm and started pulling her towards the window. She started to scream, but the music had changed to "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails. It drowned out her screams. She felt herself fall and hit the middle of the street with a thud. She wasn't unconscious, but stared open eyed at her window, not feeling any of the sharp pieces of glass that had embedded themselves in her skin or her broken left leg and right arm. A car came around the corner. It was going too fast to stop. She didn't even have time to think. The car ran over her as if she were a speed bump and kept right on going. The patrons of the music store rushed to the sidewalk. Kara's mangled body greeted them, as if to say "you're too late." Washington, DC FBI Headquarters March 21, 1996 9:15 AM Dana Scully was already late by the time the elevator reached the basement. She quickly walked towards the office she shared with Fox Mulder and tried to open the door. It was locked, she knocked and there was no answer. Sighing she reached into her pocket, found her keys and unlocked the door. Surprisingly, he wasn't there. She shrugged, hung up her overcoat, and sat down at her desk. Then she lifted up the top of her coffee and was greeted by a fresh brewed aroma. As she took a small sip, she opened up her laptop computer. The notes on the latest autopsy she had performed had yet to be finished. She pressed play on the tape recorder and wrote the remaining sentences. After she was finished, she turned off the tape and saved the file on the laptop. Then she took another sip of her coffee, noticing that it was almost gone and shut the computer down. She sat in thought for a few seconds, then dialed Mulder's cellular phone number on her office phone. The phone rang for a few seconds. "Mulder." "Mulder, it's me. Where are you?" She asked flatly. "Scully, glad you called. Get a plane ticket to New York City. Don't tell anyone why. I'll meet you at LaGuardia I have to go now," he said quickly. Scully was about to reply, but he'd already hung up. "Let's see what kind of trouble he's gotten himself into this time." She said to herself as she picked up the phone and got a ticket to New York City. LaGuardia Airport 11:30 AM Scully stepped out of the airport terminal. Her trip had been short and uneventful. For the first time in a long while, she didn't have a case file to read on the flight, so she got a chance to read the next issue of the *Skeptical Inquirer*. It was the skeptic's bible, so to speak, and the new issue had just come in at the airport. This issue dealt with mind reading and how it was not possible. Scully needed to read it. It was something that helped her keep her skepticism and objectivity. She'd flirted with the idea of joining CSICOP or The Committee for the Scientific Investigation of Claims of the Paranormal. However, her busy schedule had prevented her from joining. She was asked to write for them a few months prior by a friend. She had to turn down the offer, citing the confidentiality of her work as a reason. She remembered something she had read about psychics a few years ago. According to the article, believers were sheep, and skeptics were goats. She wanted to give Mulder a subscription to the magazine for his birthday. She felt that some of the articles might help him. , she thought, smiling. She ran a hand through her shoulder length red hair, smoothed down her gray pantsuit and walked over to the baggage claim area. After a few minutes wait, her bag made its way around the conveyor belt, and she grabbed it. She'd had a limited time to pack, so she sort of forgot what she had thrown into the suitcase. As usual, Mulder hadn't mentioned how long they were going to spend in New York City or what they were even doing there. She held the suitcase in one hand and her briefcase in the other. She walked towards the exit doors. They opened automatically for her, and she spotted a gray Ford Taurus a few feet from the entrance. The sole occupant of the car was a man with dark brown hair and was wearing a dark blue suit with a black overcoat. He had a file opened on his lap and seemed oblivious to everything going on around him. As she walked up, he popped a sunflower seed into his mouth and threw the shell out of the open window. Scully opened the trunk, put in her bags, opened the car door and sat down. Mulder jumped slightly when he heard the trunk close, but quickly calmed down when he saw who it was. "Did I startle you Mulder?" she asked, fastening her seatbelt. "Not really. I was just engrossed in this file," He smiled slightly, then closed the file and handed it to her. She opened the file and flipped through it quickly, "Ghosts throwing people in front of cars, Mulder?" She had to force down a smile. "It all makes sense, Scully. The witnesses reported hearing the victims scream and seeing them in shock in the middle of the street. This was before the victims were run over by passing cars. There have been four other deaths in New Jersey, Long Island, Vermont and Connecticut." "Then why are we in New York City?" She closed the file quickly, and handed it back to him. "There was a fifth death last night." He put the bag of sunflower seeds back into his overcoat pocket. She looked at him to see if maybe he was trying to hide the real reason they were there. She saw nothing to suggest that he was hiding anything, but he was usually a hard person to read, even for her. She knew that he was not there to investigate a murder, even one committed by a ghost, not with the way he had run off. There had to be something else. "Couldn't these crimes have been committed by a living person?" "There's one other piece of information that is not in the file." "What is it?" "A witness I talked to reported seeing an eerie glow coming from the victim's apartment. I have a hunch that what we are dealing with is not living." "That's a pretty big leap in logic. Let me guess, you think this has something to do with aliens." He smiled again, "Of course not. No one reported seeing any lights in the sky, just lights in the apartment." Scully smiled back at him. "So, where are we off to now?" "Greenwich Village," Mulder answered as he started the car again and drove towards the crime scene. She took the opportunity to look out of the window at New York City. She had not spent much time in the city and was glad that this case gave her an opportunity to see a little more of it. She made a mental note to schedule a vacation in the city for sometime in the future. There were a few college friends that she hadn't seen in a while, and two of them lived there. Maybe if the investigation didn't take too long, she could visit one of them while she was here. The local police had investigated the crime earlier, but they had already ruled it as a suicide. The road had been closed off, so they had to walk to the apartment. There was a white outline of the victim's body on the street in front of her apartment. Scully and Mulder walked up to the music store and walked in. The store was called "Noise". The origin of the name was unknown. However, it was a popular spot for the young people who lived around the area. As they walked up to the counter, Metallica started to blare from the speakers. The patrons searching through the store's collection of records, CD's and tapes seemed completely oblivious to the tragedy that had occurred the night before. Four teenage girls were pointing and laughing with high pitched giggles at a poster. The counter of the store was plastered with pictures of the patrons and pictures cut out of magazines. Scully was not entirely sure, but she would bet anything that there wasn't a Mariah Carey CD anywhere in the store. A young woman stood behind the counter. She was wearing tight blue jeans and a T-shirt with the message "Stop Testing On Animals" in small letters on the left breast and an absolutely adorable puppy on the back. Her long light brown hair was tied back in a ponytail and her blue eyes were bloodshot. Mulder spoke first. "Are you the manager here?" She nodded slowly. "I'm Jessy Robinson and you are?" "I'm Agent Mulder. This is Agent Scully. We're from the FBI. Mind if we ask you some questions?" Both of them flashed their badges at the woman. "Look," Jessy said with a sad sigh, "I talked with the cops earlier. I didn't see anything. I was busy helping a customer. I'm sorry but I can't help you." The teenage girls in the back had a question, and she lifted the a section of the counter so that she could help them. "You didn't hear anything?" Mulder asked after she was away from the counter. Jessy turned around to face them. "My friend died yesterday and I didn't even hear her scream. I only heard the music." She blinked quickly and took a deep breath. She dug into her pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "The cops weren't sure what to do with her keys so they gave them to me. Here, the entrance is next door," she handed the keys to Mulder and turned to help the teenagers. Scully and Mulder exited the store. There was a door next to the store. He opened the door and she followed. There was another door inside, which opened with one of the keys which Jessy had given them. They walked through a short hallway and reached a narrow set of wooden stairs one flight long. Kara's apartment was at the top. Mulder put the key in the top lock and turned, then put the key in the bottom lock and tried to open the door. Nothing happened, it appeared stuck. He tried again, but there was no doubt about it, either he had the wrong key or the door was locked from the inside. He knocked loudly on the door. "Who is it?" A voice asked from behind the door. "I'm Agent Mulder and with me is Agent Scully, FBI. We're investigating the circumstances surrounding Kara Soren's death." He stopped for a second. "Who are you?" There was movement inside the apartment, and the door opened. A tall blond haired man stood inside. His suit was slightly disheveled, and his eyes were bloodshot. "I'm Ben Sellers," the man answered, moving aside for the agents. Mulder entered first, Scully followed him. "How did you get into this apartment, Mr. Sellers?" Scully asked. Ben answered quickly. "I'd like to see some ID before I answer any questions." The agents flashed their badges at him. Ben nodded his acceptance of the ID's, and they put their badges away. "Kara gave me a key," Ben answered the question, sitting down on a couch. Scully and Mulder walked further into the apartment. "What is the FBI doing here anyway? The police already ruled this a suicide." "Do you believe that, Mr. Sellers?" Mulder asked. Ben thought for a second. "No, Kara was not suicidal. She would have never..." He trailed off, trying to regain his composure, "killed herself." "Mr. Sellers, can you think of any enemies your friend might have had?" Scully asked gently. "Kara and I are reporters, Agent Scully. Making enemies is par for the course. However, there is usually a warning before something like..." He waved his hand vaguely, "this happens." He thought for a second. "She did get a letter yesterday." "What did the letter say?" Scully pressed gently. "She wouldn't let me see it. All I know is she started crying after she read it." "Do you know where the letter is now?" Mulder interrupted. Ben nodded, "It's on the coffee table. I haven't read it." He stood up to leave. "If I can be of any help, please give me a call." He handed a business card to Scully. "We will, Mr. Sellers." She nodded slightly. Ben opened the door and looked around one more time. "She was a good friend of mine...I hope you find her murderer." He left. There was no questioning in his voice, he was positive that there was foul play involved. They began to search the apartment. Mulder picked up the letter and looked at it for a few moments. He read it slowly although he knew exactly what it said and pocketed it. After about twenty minutes it became clear there was no evidence. Mulder looked at his watch, it was 4:00 PM. "Up for an autopsy?" Scully stopped investigating for a moment and turned to face him. "Where?" "Bellevue Hospital." "Okay," Autopsies were her forte after all. They left the apartment and walked to the car. After a few minutes' drive, they reached the hospital. "I'd go in with you, but I want to follow up on a few leads." She forced herself to nod and smile slightly. Biting down errant thoughts. She was beginning to feel like his sidekick. "Okay, pick me up at six." "I'll be here at five forty-five." She opened the car door and stepped out. He watched her start up the steps, and drove away. Bellevue Hospital 4:30 PM The hospital smelled of antiseptic. One or two nurses ran around helping patients. No one was behind the front desk, so Scully made her way to the emergency room. The ER was in chaos. Patients waited with gunshot wounds, lacerations from car accidents, and other ailments. A frazzled blonde haired nurse stepped up to Scully. "Yes, what do you want?" she hastily asked, giving Scully a quick glance. "I'm Agent Dana Scully. Where can I find the morgue?" Scully quickly flashed her ID at the woman. "Morgue's down in the basement, first door on the right." the nurse answered, then ran off to help the doctors with an accident victim. Scully walked to the elevator and pressed the button for the basement. A few seconds later, the doors opened. The basement was markedly colder than the top floor. As she stepped out of the elevator, she prepared herself to examine the dead body. The autopsy was not being conducted for any real reason . The time, place, and manner of death were already established. The door to the apartment had been locked from the inside. Most striking of all, no fingerprints except the victim's could be found. It was obviously a simple suicide, but Mulder would never rest until all the investigation was complete. Besides, it was possible that the body would tell something the apartment never could. Shaking her head free of those thoughts, she opened up the swinging doors to the morgue. A small room on the left revealed an autopsy bay. What appeared to be a middle-aged man was standing over a child's body. On a metal table next to him lay stained metal tools. On a counter near him were a few jars. She knew those jars contained samples from the child. The man was dressed in scrubs and his hair was covered by a plastic cap. Over his eyes were thick plastic glasses and above the body was a microphone. The man seemed to be finishing up the autopsy on the small child in front of him. She waited patiently for him to turn off his recorder and start sewing up the body. The man looked up and frowned. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" he demanded. "I'm Doctor Dana Scully, FBI, I have authorization to perform an autopsy on Kara Soren." She quickly flashed her badge at the man. "Well, I'm almost finished." The doctor sewed up the child and walked past her into the changing area. He stripped off the blood-stained gloves and threw them into a bio-hazardous waste container located near the door. He then walked through a door, went to a sink and washed his hands thoroughly. "What did the child die of," she asked. "Excuse me?" The doctor turned off the faucet. "The child you were examining - what was the cause of death?" The man walked towards her. "He was murdered. Primary cause of death was strangulation." The man moved past her and grabbed a box of Polaroids from the counter. "The camera is in the far right hand cabinet," he said, as he walked out the door and let it shut loudly behind him. She glanced at the child on the slab, innocent, young, and dead. She had joined the FBI to stop crimes like this from happening to the small body before her. . She quickly found where the scrubs were located, which was in almost the exact same place in every morgue, ran into the changing room, and came out a minute or so later, ready to begin. Scully figured the bodies were in alphabetical order. Kara Soren was not very hard to find. She was in the bottom drawer of the S's. Scully took out a picture and compared it to the mess in the metal drawer. Even though the woman was almost unrecognizable from the smiling face in the picture, it was definitely Ms. Soren. Scully pressed a button, and a minute or so later, two orderly's walked through the door, moving Ms. Soren to an examining table. They also put the child's body away. They left as quickly as they came. Scully waited until the orderlies were gone, then walked over to the examining table. There was something about Ms. Soren that was very unusual for suicide victims. The woman appeared to be in shock when she died. It was almost as if she had experienced the most horrible experience of her life before the car hit her. Scully walked over, took the camera from the cabinet, and snapped a few pictures of the eyes. The first part of the autopsy dealt with external features. The woman's right leg was bent at an awkward angle, the femur sticking up through the skin. Scully also recognized a tattoo on the leg, which she duly noted. The weight, height, and age of the woman were all determined earlier, but standard procedure demanded that she check the weight and height again. She turned on the microphone and began to speak. "The autopsy on Miss Kara Soren started at 4:50 PM, on March 21, 1996. The victim is female and 32 years old. Hair is long and brown, eyes blue. Distinguishing mark is a small butterfly tattoo on the left ankle. The victim is five feet, six inches tall and weighs 120 pounds." Scully pulled on a pair of latex gloves and continued the external examination. She lifted up the woman's right arm and checked the fingernails for damage. Careful examination showed no loose skin under the fingernails. However, there were shards of something embedded in the palm. Instinct told her it was gravel. Scully snapped a few pictures of the palm. It definitely led credence to the theory of murder. Would someone trying to kill themselves put out their hands to stop their fall? It just did not add up. The left arm had the same findings, except it seemed to be almost crushed. Yes, there was a definite crushing of the forearm. It looked like someone had grabbed onto it tightly enough to cause finger shaped bruising. She snapped a few pictures of the arm. The rest of the autopsy went smoothly, evidence being noted and findings being spoken. Scully sutured up all the cuts she made into the body and left the body on the table. The orderlies would be down shortly to clean up. She stripped off the gown, the gloves, and the cap and threw them all into the bio-hazard waste container located near the door. She washed her hands and forearms thoroughly before changing back into her suit. She collected the pictures she had snapped of the body and the tape in the recorder. Walking out of the morgue, she let the door swing behind her. The black high-heeled shoes she was wearing made little click-click noises on the linoleum leading to the elevator. Chapter 2 Grand Central Station 5:05 PM Detective Carl Barrows sighed. Robert Garret was not there. An informant of his in the criminal world had gotten word that Garret was supposed to show up to meet someone. He never did. Barrows knew there was no chance he had missed him either. He looked down at the police sketch in his right hand. Garret was a tall, handsome man, who one witness said 'exuded sexuality'. The picture showed him with short hair. Barrows stared at the picture, hoping he could see something in it he hadn't seen during the first 100 times he had looked at it. Usually, when looking at a sadistic bastard, one can see it in the eyes or the face. No matter what they do, the eyes or the face betrays something not quite normal about them. Garret did not have that problem. Looking into his eyes revealed nothing of what he was really like. Underneath the normal exterior though, Barrows knew there was a cold, cruel man, who did not like his women to be willing. A shudder ran through him. He wanted Garret. He wanted him to pay for his crimes. For a second or two, Barrows was haunted by a memory, a woman's voice, someone about whom he had cared about deeply. The memory soon vanished, but it reminded Barrows of why he wanted to catch Garret so much. He stared up at the ceiling, a beautiful mural of the sky. It was so majestic and peaceful. He had a sudden vision of a beautiful young woman and a man. They were running through a field under a star-filled sky. Then the man threw the woman to the ground. Barrows shook his head quickly. Night is when Garret kills. He picks up women who would be more then willing to do things with him because of how he looks. He then takes them to deserted places and does horrible things. Barrows closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He was remembering Garret's file in graphic detail. A montage of pictures ran through his brain. That voice returned saying she was going out for drinks with someone she met, named Robert. She had left him a message on the answering machine telling him to call her later. He had gotten home too late that night to speak to her. He would never forget the early morning phone call from his partner, Johnson, the same person who was trying to get his attention now. "Carl!" Detective Mark Johnson called from a few feet away from him. He had a phone to his ear. "What?" Barrows bellowed back. He could barely hear what his partner was saying over the din of the commuters pouring through Grand Central Station. "Garret was just brought in to Headquarters. Dani says so." Barrows smiled slightly and started walking towards the entrance. Jail Cell 11:40 PM Mulder was taken from the interrogation room and put into a holding cell. He was not alone. There were at least five other people in the cell. He stood far away from the other prisoners. The other people were dressed in assorted outfits. He had been booked and photographed and was now wearing the normal prison garb. He was not in a good mood. He leaned his head against the bars and thought about the day's events. It had all started after he dropped Scully off at the hospital. While in NYC traffic he felt something hit the back of his car. It forced his head to lean forward and hit the headrest, hard. Spots formed in front of his eyes and he maneuvered the car off to the side of the road. The person who had hit him moved their car behind his. He blinked a few times trying to clear his vision. He stepped out of his car and surveyed the damage. "There goes my security deposit." The other car's occupant exited her car and smoothed down her short skirt. Her long brown hair wasn't affected by the wind, which was starting to pick up. Her tight shirt covered only by a suit jacket left little to the imagination. She was one of those women, Mulder thought, who seemed to exist only in certain porn movies or the penthouse letter page. She smiled shyly, seductively and walked over to him. "Oh God, I'm so sorry, I lost my concentration for a moment and are you hurt?" "I'm fine. Can't say the same for my car though." She smiled nervously. "I can give you all my insurance information, it will kill my rates but this is my fault." She rubbed the back of her neck and winced, closing her eyes tightly. "Are you okay?" She tried to nod yes, but moaned slightly when she moved her head. "No, I don't think so," she admitted softly. Mulder glanced at her car. It was in worse shape than the rental. The front was completely smashed. She looked up at him with deep hazel eyes, which were rimmed with tears. "Could you...take a look at my neck? I don't want to go to the hospital unless it's absolutely necessary." Against his better judgment and ignoring his car for the moment, he nodded and moved closer to her. Strange, there didn't seem to be anything out of place, but then again he wasn't a doctor. She seemed oddly relaxed, not even tense and as he was pondering this, a scream broke his concentration. "Help! Police!" She screamed and then fainted in his arms. Only his quick reflexes kept him from dropping her. A police car stopped near by and an officer stepped out. He walked towards Mulder. "I'm Officer Baxter, is there a problem here?" The middle aged cop eyed him warily. Mulder swallowed and transferred the woman to his other arm so he could get to his badge. "My name is Special Agent Fox Mulder with the FBI." "That doesn't explain why this woman screamed for help." "I don't know what happened. We were talking after she rear ended my car and asked me to massage her neck because she thought it might be hurt. Then she screamed and fainted." Suddenly, the woman woke up. She looked up at Mulder with what could only be described as terror and almost fell to the concrete as she tried to get away from him. She grabbed onto the officer and whispered softly. "He tried to attack me." Baxter looked from her to the agent and back again. "Ma'am, this man is an FBI agent. I really don't think..." "He tried to hurt me. I accidentally banged into his car and then he got out and was so angry. I tried to apologize and he grabbed my throat. I screamed and fainted from fear. I think you saved my life." She looked up at Baxter, pleading with her eyes. After a few seconds of debating with himself, "Is this true Agent Mulder?" Mulder was still trying to process what had changed the sweet seductive woman in front of him into what he was seeing now. He was completely and utterly confused by the strange turn of events. "No, I would...would never harm her." He managed to get out although he knew he phrased it oddly. Baxter looked back at the agent and then down to the woman who was practically clutching his uniform. "Is it possible you were mistaken?" He asked her gently. She shook her head quickly. "He's lying, just because he's an FBI agent doesn't mean that he didn't try to attack me." Baxter wished he had someone to consult about this. It was a difficult situation to say the least. A tough choice about who to believe. He sighed and made his decision. "Agent Mulder, could you come with me please?" "I didn't hurt this woman." Mulder repeated. He could not believe what was happening. "We can sort everything out at headquarters." Baxter had made the only decision he could think of, to bring them both in. Mulder resigned himself to a car ride and mumbled. "I'll just get my briefcase." "I'll take that Agent Mulder, and your weapon." Mulder handed them over, not wanting to be searched. Baxter pushed him towards the police car. "Ma'am, would you come with me also?" She shook her head violently. "I'm not getting in the same car as that lunatic! Not unless he's handcuffed." Baxter looked over at Mulder apologetically. "Agent Mulder...." Mulder held out his hands willingly. "I'm really sorry about this...." Baxter put the cuffs on him. "I understand." It wasn't this officer's fault that the woman was psychotic. Besides, this would all be straightened out soon and then he would be able to continue his investigation. As it was he was losing valuable time. As they walked towards the car the woman turned to look at him and he was surprised to see a small smile of triumph on her face. "Gotcha," She mouthed. Mulder's stomach dropped as he realized this was not a random occurrence. The ride was short and they soon reached the Fifth Precinct. Because of standard operating procedure, Mulder was fingerprinted and in almost no time at all found himself in an interrogation room. The situation was about to take a turn for the worse. A few minutes later, two cops entered the room. They were both wearing brown suits and plain ties. One was in his thirties, with short blonde hair and was about 6'0". The other one was in his early to mid twenties with short black hair and was about 5'8". Both were physically fit. "I'm Detective Johnson. This is my partner, Detective Barrows," the dark-haired one said, pointing to his blonde-haired companion. "This is all a big misunderstanding. I did not hurt that woman." Mulder said quickly. He wanted to get back to investigating Kara's death before the trail became cold. This was one of the most ridiculous things that had ever happened to him. Barrows pulled out a sheet of white paper and Mulder found himself looking at a sketch that looked a lot like him. Underneath the picture was the name Robert Garret. "What is this?" "Come now, you should be able to recognize your own image, Mr. Garret." Barrows whispered. "I think you've made a mistake, my name is Fox Mulder and I'm a Special Agent with the FBI." "Oh really? That's impossible, Fox Mulder is on assignment in Colorado, he can't be in two places at once." Johnson interrupted Mulder mentally cursed himself. He was supposed to be in Colorado helping out with a standoff between some people and the government. As usual whenever someone started talking aliens and conspiracy, he was the one who was called in. However, something important had come up in NYC and he had to leave immediately. Of course, the only person in the FBI who had any knowledge about his whereabouts was Scully. This was not good. "Yes, that's where I'm supposed to be..." Detective Johnson pulled out Mulder's ID and badge, "I don't know how you made these Mr. Garret, but just tell us the truth, this will go so much quicker that way." He tossed them onto the wooden table. "But I am telling the truth. I can clear up this misunderstanding easily if you just let me call my partner. She'll clear this whole thing up." Mulder was starting to get really ticked off. He had no time for this. Didn't these people realize that they were screwing up a federal investigation? Barrows and Johnson exchanged looks. "Look, I'm here investigating a murder and the more time we spend arguing, the surer I am that the murderer will strike again." "You're really standing by this whole FBI thing aren't you Garret?" Barrows almost laughed. Mulder stayed very calm, he hated local police. "Listen, whatever petty crimes this guy Garret is wanted for, it is not worth you detaining me like this. You're impeding a federal investigation." "Petty? You're being charged with 13 counts of rape/murder and one of attempted rape." Barrows felt an anger that he hadn't before. How dare this monster call his crimes petty. Whatever Mulder had been expecting to hear, this wasn't it. Jesus, he profiled guys like this Garret person. How the hell had he gotten into this situation? "I'm not Robert Garret." "Yes, I believe you are. Look at the picture and listen to this." Johnson pulled a small tape player out of his jacket pocket and played it. "BEEP...Susie, it's Robert, I'll pick you up at 7 for drinks, see you then." Now Mulder was really confused. He didn't remember that at all, but it sounded a lot like his voice. Even worse, the more he looked down at the picture, the more he saw himself. "I admit that Garret and I could be twin brothers, but I'm not him." Mulder knew getting upset wouldn't help at all. "So, what happened with Tara Dreyer?" Barrows asked offhandedly. "Who is Tara Dreyer?" "The woman who claimed you tried to attack her." "I think she has some serious mental problems or might have set me up." The latter seemed more and more likely. "And why would she have set you up?" That was one thing Mulder hadn't worked out yet. "I'm not sure." He admitted. "Why were your hands on her neck?" "She asked me to massage her neck." "Oh, come on Garret, is that what happened with Susan Raben?" Barrows was getting more and more agitated. "Who?" "The woman whose body we found in a deserted field in Nassau County," Barrows spat out the words to Mulder. Mulder met his eyes, surprised at the well of hate and anger he saw in them. Suddenly he knew, for Barrows, Garret was personal. From experience, mostly his own he knew that the situation could escalate quickly. "I'm entitled to a lawyer, " Mulder said after a few seconds. "Yes, you are," Johnson said. They handed Mulder a phone and left the room. He wasted no time, immediately dialing Scully's cellular phone number. Holiday Inn Room 213 8:10 PM Scully read the room service menu. She was so mad at Mulder, she could not even think about him. She'd waited for him at the hospital two hours, then finally lost her patience and took a taxi to a hotel. "Where the hell can he be?" she said aloud as she sat down on a bed and started to massage her aching feet. He said he would be back in a few hours, but four hours was a long time, even for him. No, she was determined not to worry about him. "You'd better have a good excuse Mulder," she said angrily. As if on cue, her cellular phone rang. "Scully." "Scully, it's me." "Mulder, where are you?" "In a police station. I've been arrested." "What happened?" It was a good thing she was sitting. Out of pretty much everything he could have told her, this was the furthest from her mind. She could not have been more shocked if he told her the reason he was late was, because he went on a quick trip with a few aliens in a UFO. She was beginning to feel more like his baby-sitter than his partner. Seemed that lately every time he went off to investigate on his own, he got into some sort of trouble. "It's a long story, do you have any law experience?" "I might have taken one or two courses in college. Why do you ask?" "I told them I was calling a lawyer." He heard her audible sigh over the phone. "Mulder, that's ridiculous, I'm not a lawyer but I'll find you one, where are you?" "The Fifth Precinct, I think the car's in the impound lot." "Okay, I will be there soon." "Thanks Scully." He hung up the phone. She pressed End on her phone. "What has he done now?" she whispered weakly, then stood up, and put on her shoes. She grabbed her briefcase, not sure she would be coming back to the hotel. She then walked out of the room, glancing reluctantly at the room service menu as she left. 5th Precinct 10:45 PM Scully reached the station, got out of the slightly damaged car, which she had just freed from the impound lot, and locked the door behind her. The police station was what she thought it would look like, most of them looked the same. There were a few concrete steps up to a door with blue lights on either side of the stairs When she opened the door she was facing a very high counter behind which sat a policewoman in the standard blue uniform worn by all New York City police. The front desk cop was about 40 years old, with short brown hair. "Yeah?" the cop asked, as Scully neared her. "I'm looking for a Mr. Adam Carlson, has he arrived yet?" Lori, the front desk policewoman, nodded. "He's in the interrogation room right now, who are you," She inquired. "Agent Dana Scully. I'm helping out Mr. Carlson." Adam, an old school friend of Scully's had agreed to help on short notice and let her sit in on the questioning. After all, she knew Mulder a lot better than he did. "Fine do you have ID?" Scully flashed her ID at the woman who nodded her acceptance. Hey Jerry! Would you take Agent Scully here to interrogation room 1?" "Sure, no problem, Lori " the man said as he walked towards them. "Right this way," he said to Scully, leading her down a hall. They stopped after a few seconds at a door. "Thanks for your help," Scully called to the man, then knocked on the door. After a second or two, the door was opened by a good-looking blonde-haired man. Sitting at the table was Mulder and Carlson. Scully took a deep breath and walked into the room. "Hi, I'm Agent Mulder's partner, Dana Scully." She held out her hand, the blonde haired man shook it. "I'm Detective Barrows and this is my partner Detective Johnson." The blonde said pointing to a dark haired and well muscled man. "Detective Johnson." Scully nodded. "We were just about to go over the facts of the case." Scully nodded and sat down next to Mulder who looked very relieved to see her. Johnson closed the door. "Mr. Garret is accused of committing six rapes and homicides, all in the Tri State area." He sat down. "Excuse me, who is Mr. Garret?" Scully asked after a moment. "He is." Barrows pointed at Mulder. Scully almost sighed in relief. "That's impossible. I know Agent Mulder, we've worked together for years. I think you have a case of mistaken identity." "With all respect Agent Scully, I don't think we do." "Do you have any evidence to support this claim?" Carlson glanced over at her. She had told him it would be at worst an assault charge. This was something a lot more serious. He straightened out his silk tie and resisted the urge to smooth down his short auburn hair again. "We do." Johnson played the tape for them. , Scully thought as the tape finished. "Tapes can be altered and voices can be imitated. Do you have any other evidence?" Carlson knew that was circumstantial at best, especially since the man sitting next to him was supposed to be an FBI agent. "Yes, this is a picture of Garret." Barrows pulled out the sheet of white paper. She looked down at the picture, then looked over at Mulder. The man in the picture looked exactly like him. What the hell was going on here? "Detective Barrows, do you have any evidence that places my client at the scene of the crime?" Barrows nodded, "Fingerprints, on the duct tape. He wasn't careful." "Will you excuse me for a moment? I have to make a phone call." Scully excused herself and stepped out of the interrogation room. She took her phone out of her pocketbook and dialed Skinner's number. The phone rang a few times. "Skinner." "It's Agent Scully, sir." "Agent Scully, what can I do for you?" "Well, sir, Agent Mulder is being held in a police precinct. The detectives here are claiming he is a criminal named Robert Garret. I called to let you know." "I'll see what I can do, Agent Scully." "Thank you, sir." She hung up. She put the phone back in her pocket book and re-entered the room. 11:00 PM Assistant Director Walter Skinner hung up the phone. He picked up the receiver and called someone saying a few words. He hung up the phone. It was getting late. Laura would be getting worried. She was his live-in girlfriend, but they barely saw each other. He opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of wine. , he thought as he stood up, turned off the lights, walked out of the room and shut the door. Location Unknown 11:02 PM The man took another puff of his cigarette and looked over to the men sitting next to him. "Phase One is almost complete. Our experiment has succeeded," he said, then took another drag of his cigarette. "When will Phase Two begin?" a man dressed in black asked. "Soon." The man snubbed out his cigarette. "First, we must advise the FBI on what action to take." The man pulled out a fresh cigarette and lit it. Chapter 3 5th Precinct 11:05 PM Barrows was pulling out 5X7 color photos of the victims. "This is the first victim," he said emotionlessly. The woman was covered partly by a sheet, her hands bound over her head with duct tape. There was duct tape over her mouth. Her upper body was covered with bruises. The woman's red hair hung limply around her face. "Alicia Simon, age 32. Cause of death ruled to be excessive blood loss due to the severing of the carotid arteries," Barrows continued, reaching into the folder and pulling out another photo. "Same victim. This one was taken before the autopsy," Barrows said, showing Scully a photo of the same woman, although this time the body was uncovered. The bruising continued down the whole body. Scully watched Mulder for a reaction. He dealt with pictures worse than these on a day to day basis. However, he had never been accused of the crime before. His eyes showed the horror he felt. Scully had managed to separate herself from the photos and could view the crimes at a distance. It was the first thing she was taught to do. She dealt with the photos from a purely medical standpoint. Carlson was looking at them in a mixture of shock and revulsion. Scully felt a small tug of guilt. She didn't mean to bring him into something like this. "This is the second victim," Barrows pulled out another photograph. "As you can see, it's the same pattern we saw with the first victim." The woman also had red hair. Barrows pulled out the photos of the remaining victims. They were all in their mid-twenties to thirties. They all had shoulder length red hair. Those were the only similarities between them. The women came from varied backgrounds and had different jobs. There was no link at all between them. They were random victims. The pictures covered the wooden table forming a collage of violence. Scully looked down at them, then over at Mulder again. His expression had not changed. He was trying to view the pictures in a purely investigative manner. "Gentlemen, I think this is all we can accomplish today. May we continue this tomorrow?" Carlson rubbed his eyes and stood. "Before we go we need a few minutes alone with our client." Barrows glanced over at Johnson. He knew Johnson would want to be getting home to his wife, Page. "Okay, we'll continue this tomorrow, at 8 am," he said after some deliberation. Besides, he needed to get to the gym and work out some anger. Barrows collected the photos, placing them in the envelope. The detectives walked out of the room, leaving Mulder, Carlson and Scully alone. "Adam, I need to speak to Mulder alone. I'll see you tomorrow morning." Scully said after a second or two. "Okay Dana, but I might be a little late, I'm meeting clients at 8 in the office." "No problem, thank you Adam." Adam smiled slightly at her and walked out of the room. When they were alone, Scully waited for an explanation. "I did not kill those women, Scully. You believe me, don't you?" he said, looking down at the table. He was afraid to meet her eyes. "I don't know what to believe, Mulder," she admitted to him, looking over his head. She could not meet his eyes. "Do you think I committed those crimes?" he whispered, afraid of her answer. She was quiet for a few seconds. "No, I know you could never have done it." She shook her head slightly. "We will sort this whole mess out in the morning. I am sure it is just a bizarre case of mistaken identity and incredible coincidences. Maybe you have an evil twin brother?" Mulder almost laughed, "This isn't a soap Scully." "Mr. Carlson is a terrific lawyer and this particular case of his will be over before it begins." She said with a confidence she did not feel. He nodded. "I know you're right." He looked up into her eyes. "Take care of yourself, I'll see you tomorrow morning." She stood up and started towards the door. She was reluctant to leave him there, but she knew he was capable of handling himself. She looked into his eyes for a moment and saw what she always did. There was no way he could have killed those women, it was a mistake and she was sure of it. She walked out the door and soon was outside the precinct. Scully opened the car door. She sat in the driver's seat and put the key in the ignition. She turned it, and the car started. A song was starting on the radio. The same song she had heard earlier in the music store. It was hard to believe she was there only earlier that day. It felt like weeks ago. She leaned against the door and closed her eyes for a second. The day had worn her out. At least Adam wasn't going to tell his ex-wife Carole that she was in town. Something told Scully she couldn't deal with that at the moment. Carole had gone a little insane after the divorce and the last thing Scully needed at the moment was a jealous ex-wife breathing down her neck. She yawned and turned off the car. She would just rest for a moment. Jail Cell 12:30 PM Mulder sighed softly and glanced up at the clock. It didn't seem like he had been lost in thought for a hour, but he had been. The events did not make any more sense after reviewing them. The thing that hurt the most was Scully thinking it was possible he had committed the crimes. She only doubted him for an instant, but that was enough. He went back to his original thought about the woman setting him up. It still didn't make any sense and so he left it alone for the moment. He was an insomniac, so he could not fall asleep. It was not the first night he had spent in a jail cell. Actually, it was his third. The first time was after an incredibly embarrassing experience in Oxford he tried to not think about. The second time was when a cop who hated him in Atlantic City put him in the drunk tank. He leaned his head against the bars again and tried to think of a way out of the situation. March 22 7:35 AM Scully awoke and grabbed her head. She cursed silently. One minute had turned into all night. She shivered, it was still too cold and she worried that she might have caught a chill. Her eyes wouldn't stay open, so she shook her head a little, hoping to jar herself out of sleep. It worked, and she was soon wide awake. The only problem was the outfit she was wearing. She decided that the detectives would not care what she was dressed like, but Mulder would definitely be surprised. It was very unlike her to wear the same outfit two days in a row. She took a lipstick out of her pocketbook and put it on. She also ran a brush through her hair. She opened the car door and stepped out. She locked the door, then headed for a nearby coffee shop. The one thing she needed more than anything else was a cup of coffee, warm coffee. About 15 minutes later Scully stepped into the precinct, energized by her cup of coffee and danish. Adam wouldn't arrive till much later, she was on her own. As she walked in, her cellular phone rang. She opened her pocket book and pulled out her phone. "Scully," she answered. "Agent Scully, this is Skinner." She immediately stepped out of the precinct and stood on the steps. "Yes, sir?" "I think I might have found an answer." "What?" "The name Robert Garret sounded familiar to me, so I checked the files. Turns out that one of Agent Mulder's earlier cases was a serial killer named Robert Garret. He attacked women in their 20's and 30's who were white and petite. Their professions ranged from doctor to housewife. Agent Mulder worked on the profile and got into Garret's head. The FBI caught Garret when he was about to kill his seventh victim. Agent Mulder was the one who shot and killed him, but he couldn't quite get Garret out of his mind. He suffered from horrible dreams for a few nights and started acting a bit strangely. He was put on a one week vacation, visited a psychologist one time and went back to work. Of course, that last part is classified." "Why sir?" "The diagnosis was that it was caused by extreme stress and guilt from killing another person, even someone like Garret. It was a one time occurrence and Agent Mulder's supervisor at the time did not want to lose him." She considered this bit of news. It was hard to swallow. "Does Mulder remember any of this?" He cleared his throat. "No, for some reason Agent Mulder took it upon himself to go to a psychologist and have this repressed by hypnosis. It was causing him too many problems." She closed her eyes for a second. "If there is no mention of it and Mulder doesn't remember it, how am I supposed to know you're telling the truth?" "You're just going to have to trust me Agent Scully. My best guess would be that Agent Mulder may have another personality, an alter-ego that no one had ever suspected. I'm sorry to bring you bad news." She leaned against the building slightly, trying to steady herself. She took a few deep breaths, literally speechless. There was a very long pause in the conversation. "I don't believe it sir." she practically whispered into the phone. "Again, I'm sorry that I cannot help you further. This is out of my hands now Scully. I hope I'm wrong," he said with reluctance and a little sadness. "So do I sir, so do I." She sighed and closed her eyes again, trying to stop the headache that was starting to form. She felt the blood pump behind her eyes and in her forehead. "I have to go see Mulder, I don't know what to tell him. I have to go now." "Tell him whatever you want, Agent Scully." She pressed End on the phone, her mind swimming with the new information. . She walked up the stairs and stepped back into the precinct. She was infused with a purpose. She had to prove Skinner wrong. Washington, DC FBI Headquarters 8:10 AM Skinner hung up the phone, trying to keep his anger suppressed. He heard Scully's disbelief through the phone. He heard the shock in her voice. He only hoped she did not trust him. The one thing that made the day even a little tolerable was the memory of Laura the night before. She did not mind that he was late. He did bring wine after all. He smiled remembering what she wore and how she'd rubbed his bald head. She spoke of how muscular his body was and all the things she wanted to do with it. He quickly shook his head to clear the thoughts. He had work to do and could not be bothered with memories, no matter how terrific. With reluctance, he dialed a phone number. Someone answered. "I told her." "Good. Good, did she believe you?" Skinner debated about what to say. "She accepted the information." "We'll make her believe it." It was all the man said. He hung up. Skinner hung up and looked around. He'd asked for the responsibility. He thought he'd asked for the power. He did not realize how little power he would actually have. He sighed and wondered why he even helped them. It was then he realized he had no choice in the matter. Still, he hated how they destroyed lives. Chapter 4 8:14 AM Before she met with the detectives, Scully realized she had to speak to Mulder. She was led to his cell and the guard opened the door. She thanked the guard and he left. Mulder sat up. She noticed he was now dressed in a prison jumpsuit. He waited for her to speak. "I talked to Skinner a few minute ago." "What did he say?" She thought for a few moments about how to tell him. "He said earlier in your career you shot and killed a serial killer and rapist named Robert Garret before he was able to kill another victim." Mulder thought for a few seconds, the name did not sound familiar to him at all. He had no recollection of the case, which was odd because he usually had an excellent memory. He could sense that she was hiding something from him. "What else did he say?" She looked at a spot above his head and spoke slowly. "He said you acted strangely after that, Mulder, he believes..." She stopped for a second, the next part was hard to say. "He believes you have another personality, that you could have committed these crimes...," she trailed off, still looking away from him. It took a few moments for the meaning of her words to seep in. Mulder couldn't believe what he was hearing. "He believes I have a what?" He practically jumped off of his cot, his voice a sharp whisper. "I've never worked on a case against anyone named Robert Garret, never killed anyone by that name, I have no memories of anything even involving him." "That's what Skinner said you would say. He claims that you went to someone and they hypnotized you to forget it." "But Scully, I'd have some memory of it, something..." He was confused and started thinking back over all of his cases. At that moment, a guard walked over to the cell. "Agent Scully? Detective Barrows wants to see you." The guard whispered to her. Scully nodded. "I'll talk to you later," she told Mulder before exiting the cell. Mulder was still deep in thought. Scully walked back to the interrogation room and went inside. Detective Barrows and a videotape machine were waiting for her. "Morning Detective Barrows," Scully sat down. "Good morning, Agent Scully," Barrows said, placing a file on the table. "Where is Detective Johnson?" Scully asked, noticing that someone was absent. "He did not feel well today. I can handle this myself." Barrows sat down across from Scully. He glanced around suddenly, "I could ask you the same question. Where is Mr. Carlson?" "Oh, he'll be here later. He asked me to handle this for him. He's with another client." Barrows nodded and wasted no time, immediately opening the file and taking something out. "What is this?" Scully asked picking up the piece of paper. "Look at it," Barrows answered, flipping through the file. Scully glanced down at the paper. It was a police report. "Teresa Denvers," Scully read aloud. "Was she a witness to one of the crimes?" "No, she was almost the seventh victim. We got the call from her at 3:21 am, March 21st. She had some bruises and was pretty shaken up. She gave us a statement yesterday morning. This is a videotape of that. Until I met you last night I wasn't able to make the connection, but now, just watch." .... She ignored the inner voice and waited for the tape to start. Unfortunately, the voice kept talking, . Sometimes she really hated that inner voice. Barrows turned on the tape. A young woman with a short ponytail and a bruised face appeared on the screen. "Thank you for coming, Ms. Denvers. My name is Detective Johnson and next to me is my partner Detective Barrows." Johnson's voice could be heard. "Hello," Teresa said softly, obviously shaken. "Could you please tell us what happened the night of March 20th and the early morning of the 21st, Ms. Denvers?" Barrows's voice asked, only the woman was visible. Teresa nodded slightly. "I was waiting for a date at a restaurant. He was about an hour late, I had been stood up." "When did you first meet Robert Garret?" Barrows asked. "He walked over to me. I must admit I was immediately attracted to him. He was one of the best looking men I have ever seen," Teresa said bitterly. "What happened next?" Barrows asked gently. "He asked what my name was. I told him, and we talked for a little bit. And then he suggested we go somewhere else." "And you went?" Barrows asked. Teresa nodded, "As I told you, I was attracted to him." "Where did you two go?" Barrows asked, realizing how hard it was for Teresa to recount the events. "We drove into Central Park." "Do you remember the car?" Johnson interjected. "Not really, but I'm almost positive it was gray. Cars have always looked alike to me," Teresa said apologetically. "It's okay, go on," Barrows said gently. "We drove deep into Central Park, then he suggested we go for a walk." "Didn't you think that odd?" Johnson asked. "Yes, he practically had to drag me out of the car." "What happened next?" Johnson asked gently. "We walked for about twenty minutes. He did not really say much, but held onto my hand tightly. Even if I wanted to run I couldn't have. I had no idea where we were." "Could you have gotten away then?" Barrows asked. "No, he was too strong." "What happened next?" Johnson asked, even though he realized it was something he'd already said. "We reached a clearing. It seemed like it was miles from civilization. It was then I started to get nervous." "Why?" Barrows asked one more time. "He was not calling me Teresa anymore." "What was he calling you?" Teresa glanced around before answering. "I am not entirely sure, but I think he was calling me Scully." Scully looked at the screen quickly, realizing for the first time why all the victims were in their 20's to 30's, short, and with shoulder length red hair. They all could be her. She wondered why she had not seen it before. A chill ran down her spine, this was not a case of mistaken identity. Her mind raced as she struggled to hide her feelings. Barrows was looking at her, the connection, that's what he was talking about. She wished that Adam would suddenly walk in so that she wouldn't have to face Mulder alone after this. "What did he do next?" Barrows asked. "He grabbed my shoulders roughly and pulled me close to him. He whispered something into my ear." "What did he whisper?" Johnson asked. Scully was afraid of the answer, but she had to know. She stayed as calm as possible but couldn't help looking at Teresa and picturing herself. Teresa looked off to the side, most likely at one of the detectives. "He said..." Her eyes started to fill with tears. "He said, 'I hope Kevin made you believe in God again, Scully.' He then punched me in the right eye, forcing me down to the ground. He punched me in the mouth, cutting my lip, but luckily not making me lose any teeth..." Her words were running together. "What did you do then?" Barrows asked. That last bit of information terrified Scully. She shivered and not from cold. "He was holding down my arms. I tried to fight him but failed. He took out a small pocket knife and started cutting off my clothes..." "How did you escape?" Johnson asked, wondering how she was still alive. "He suddenly started sobbing. As if he had come out of a trance or something. He got off me quickly and looked down at his own hands in horror. I ran away from him as fast as I could." Teresa took a deep breath and sat back in the chair. Mercifully, that was the end of the tape and Barrows turned it off. "Are you okay Agent Scully?" "I'm fine. Would you excuse me for a moment?" Scully stood up and walked out of the room. She found the nearest bathroom and took a few deep breaths once she was inside. She looked into the mirror, amazed at how poised she appeared, while she was falling apart inside. Her mind raced with unanswered questions and even worse, answered questions that were almost too horrible to contemplate. She took another deep breath and let it out slowly. She tried to remember the breathing exercises Missy had taught her a year or so before. She breathed in and out, in and out, controlling her breathing, trying to reach a state of relaxation. She turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face, but it did not make her feel any better. She went over to the hand dryers and quickly dried her face. She took another quick look at the mirror and felt ready to face Barrows again. However, she was unsure of how she would stay cool once Mulder re-entered the room. . "I'm sorry Agent Scully. I know...how difficult it must be to hear that." Barrows apologized when she re-entered the room. She sat back down and closed her eyes for a moment. "I...don't know what to say." "I think your partner should see this tape." She nodded slightly, Mulder should see the tape but she didn't want to be there when he did. No, she had to stay...she had no choice. Barrows called down for him to be brought up. A minute later, Mulder entered the room. He was a little nervous about what had just happened. Scully's eyes were cold, unfeeling, a look that did not bode well for him. "Have you ever met a Teresa Denvers?" Barrows asked, when the door was closed. Mulder glanced over at Scully. "No, I have never met anyone by that name." "Here's a little statement she gave. Any of these events sound familiar?" Barrows pressed play on the tape machine. After a few seconds of static a woman could easily be seen and heard. Mulder listened in silence until Teresa said "I am not entirely sure, but I think he was calling me Scully." Mulder almost jumped up at that point, but realized it would be a bad idea. He thought for a few seconds and his thoughts were altogether different. . The tape ended. "Well, Agent Mulder, what do you have to say now?" Mulder speechless, had no idea how to answer. Luckily, Scully answered for him. "Detective Barrows, in light of this recent information..." "I'll be outside if you need me." Barrows exited the room. Once alone with him, she had no idea what to say. Her words would have to be chosen very carefully. She stood, folded her arms across her chest and stared at a blank wall for the longest time. "I don't know what to think, I really don't. On the one hand you're my partner, someone who I've come to trust more than any other. I want to believe in your innocence. On the other, is all this damning evidence, no longer circumstantial. Teresa's testimony made it quite clear this is no longer a simple case of mistaken identity. Who else would have known about those things Mulder? What if Skinner's right? What if you're Robert Garret?" She was silent, trying to get the next sentence out. "What if you're guilty?" She whispered to the wall, but Mulder heard just the same. She bit her lip, trying to keep herself from breaking down. He sat silent, unable to speak. She doubted him and he felt the full impact of what that meant. She didn't turn around to face him, just tried to work out the events in her mind, trying to come up with a rational explanation. It was impossible. Certain facts were difficult to ignore, and one question kept nagging at her, She had no answer. "There's a logical explanation for all of this Scully." She turned around to face him and put her hands on her hips. "Really Mulder? You saw as well as I did, what that woman went though and I might mention your fingerprints were found at the scene." "I'm being framed. Someone's been made to look like me and programmed to commit these crimes." She shook her head in disgust. "No one is going to believe that. It's paranoid, insane. If you tell something like that to the judge he'll put you in a mental institution or just throw you right into jail. I don't know if there's a way to fix this situation..." Scully's phone rang. "Scully. Adam, where are you...Okay...no I understand...yes...of course... well I appreciate your help....bye." "That was Adam, he can't take the case. I'll try to find another lawyer quickly. I've got to go and look now, maybe ask around at the restaurant where Teresa Denvers claims to have met Garret." He bowed his head in defeat. "Scully, you know me. I couldn't possibly have committed these crimes." He whispered. "I do and...I know," . She nodded slightly and picked up her briefcase. She exited the room without looking back and ran into Detective Barrows on her way out. "Mr. Carlson will not be representing Agent Mulder anymore." "Really?" "Yes, I'm off to find another lawyer." It was as good a reason as any to get out of the station, and Scully soon found herself outside. She took another deep breath and walked to the car. She looked up and realized it was starting to rain. It was going to be a very long day. Chapter 5 Upscale Hotel Room 11:00 AM The rain was coming down harder. It started as a light shower and gradually worked its way up to a storm. Old fall leaves that had not been raked away scattered along the sidewalk and swirled in the air. The man lying on the king-sized bed opened his eyes. He hated mornings more than anything else, but his employers insisted he be there earlier than usual today. He pushed back the red comforter and swung his long legs over the side of the bed. He tried unsuccessfully to stand. It took about five tries before he could make his way into the bathroom. He reached into the glass encased shower and turned on the water as hot as he could make it. After a minute or so, he turned the faucet until it was just the right temperature. He quickly undressed and stepped into the shower. After five or ten minutes, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. The hotel he was staying at was deluxe. There was a razor and a can of shaving cream in the drawer. He lathered his face and expertly shaved himself. The hotel supplied a bathrobe, so he put it on before re-entering the main room. Over the dresser was a mirror. The man admired his reflection. He wished he could get a nose job, but that would destroy his purpose. He hated having dark hair, always wanted to be a blonde, well that would have to wait until his assignment was over. He walked over to the closet and opened it up. There were at least 10 new suits inside. They had taken care of him well. After careful deliberation, he chose a charcoal gray Calvin Klein suit. He looked at the tie rack for a tie. Almost all the ties were horrid, but he had an image to keep. He quickly dressed and looked at himself in the mirror before leaving. He checked to make sure the suit was perfectly creased and that the tie was just where it should be. He had to admit he was a handsome man. The beautiful desk clerks certainly thought so. Too bad none of them were his type. He checked his watch. It was 11:30AM. It was time to go meet with the bosses. He left the room, making sure to take his key, and smiled at the women on his way out of the hotel. They smiled back. Office Building 11:45 AM The man stepped into a mirrored building. Most of the people in the building were dressed in normal business clothes. There was an insurance company that owned the first eleven floors. The man made his way to an empty elevator and quickly closed the door before anyone else could barge their way in. He took out a small key card and swiped it through a small slot. He entered the secret code. When he heard a beep, the elevator started to move. It went quickly to its destination. The doors opened. Unlike all other levels of the building, he did not hear an electronic voice telling him he had reached his destination. The hallway in front of him was covered by a very plush, expensive, blood red carpet. The walls were colored royal blue. There were only two doors in the hallway. The man took a different key card out and held it up to a sophisticated security system. He punched in another number code. A fingerprint identification plate came out of the door. He placed his thumb on it and the machine accepted him. He could now knock on the door without fear of being electrocuted by it. The wood was only a thin veneer. The door was actually thick metal that had electrical current running through it. The occupants of the room did not take kindly to strangers bothering them. He rapped his knuckles against the door twice. After a minute or so, the door was opened. A woman stood in the doorway. It did not surprise him that she was there. She was one of the cruelest and most beautiful women he had ever met. Her face lit up for a moment with joy, but she quickly hid it. She stood about 5'10", and had golden blonde hair worn in a loosely wrapped bun. Her suit was black with a high cut. The black slacks fell to just above the ankle, where they were met with high black heels and a little bit of pantyhose. The suit fell seductively over her slim body, and it did little to hide her curves, although she obviously was trying to play down her femininity. The only bit of color on her was red lipstick. Her green eyes were not marred by mascara or eye shadow, and she wore no blush. Even her hands were covered by black leather gloves. "I'll go tell him you're here." She walked off to announce his arrival. After a few seconds he was invited in. The room had a bar with a tuxedoed bartender and soft black leather chairs. The man was invited to sit down. He did. "Do you know why you've been asked to come?" a thin elderly man asked. He had a slight English accent. His suit and everything about him was impeccable. "No," the man said. The woman sat down next to him. She looked over at the elderly man who nodded at her. "We are almost ready for Phase Two," the woman said. She reached into the black attaché case near her feet and pulled out a brown folder. "Here is what we need you to do." She handed the folder to the man. The man gently took the folder and opened it up. He almost smiled at what he saw inside. "It will all be taken care of afterwards?" The woman nodded. The man stood up and walked out of the room. Americana Restaurant 12:00 PM. Scully stopped the car. Americana was one of those theme restaurants, the kind where memorabilia were plastered all over the walls. She stepped out of the car and went inside. On the few walls she could see from the waiting area, she made out the faces of J. Edgar Hoover, John F. Kennedy, both Roosevelts; a few advertisements, and entertainment news. It was like the Hard Rock Cafe, Planet Hollywood, and the Smithsonian all rolled into one. Families, friends, business men, local workers, and students all packed the large restaurant. She walked over to the bar. Luckily, not that many people were drinking, so she could talk with the bartender for a little bit. The bartender was a young man. He was a few pounds overweight. His skin was dark and he was about 5'5". He smiled at the customers, while he served them their drinks. "Can I get you anything?" the man asked, while dispensing a Coke. "No thank you. I'm Agent Dana Scully, FBI and I'd like to ask you a few questions." She calmly took her ID out of a pocket and flipped it open. She let the bartender look at it for a few seconds, then put it away. "Sure, no problem. I have a few minutes. I'm Matt Darren." Matt wiped his hands on a nearby towel. "Were you bartending here on the night of March 20th, Mr. Darren?" "No, I'm only the daytime bartender." "Is there any way I can get in touch with the bartender who handles the evening shift?" "Sure, just wait a second while I get his number." Matt turned and reached under the bar. When he came back, he handed the piece of paper to Scully. "Here's where he can be reached." "Thank you for your time Mr. Darren." "You're welcome Agent Scully." Matt turned back to help some customers with their drinks. Scully walked out of the restaurant. She did not like those kind of restaurants. They all seemed too fake, too put together. She liked little out of the way places that had a quiet ambiance. However, Mulder loved restaurants that were like Americana. She looked at the number Mr. Darren had given her. The name of the night bartender was Daniel Barker. She unlocked her car and stepped in, grabbed her cellular phone out of the glove compartment and dialed Barker's number. The phone rang for about thirty seconds before a sleep ravaged voice answered. "Hello?" "Mr. Barker?" "Yes?" He was obviously trying to place the voice. "Hello, I'm Agent Dana Scully with the FBI." "What does the FBI want with me?" Barker started to get a little anxiety in his voice. "Relax, Mr. Barker. I would just like to ask you a few questions about a crime that was committed a few days ago." "Oh, all right then." His voice became noticeably calmer. After all, he hadn't done anything in years. "Were you bartending at Americana on the night of March 20th? It was a Wednesday." "Yes I was." "Do you remember the faces of people who come into the restaurant?" Scully heard him laughing. "There are so many people who come into that restaurant. It's very hard to remember faces." "I understand Mr. Barker, but do you remember a man who came into the bar about 6'1, in height, with a lanky frame, bushy brown hair and hazel eyes?" Barker paused for a minute or two, he still had a slight hangover. "Yeah, I believe that description sounds familiar. Can you tell me anything else about this man?" "He was seen talking with a woman about 5'4" with short red hair." "Yeah, I remember him. What about him?" He was now fully awake. "Do you remember what he ordered to drink?" "You must think I have a pretty good memory. No, I don't remember what he drank. You're lucky I remember him at all." He was laughing slightly. "Did you hear him say anything in the bar?" He was quiet again, deep in thought. "No, he talked in low whispers to the redhead. Sorry I can't help you more. I just don't remember anything more about him." "Thank you for your help, Mr. Barker. I'll let you go back to sleep now." She had learned absolutely nothing from talking with Mr. Barker. It was a waste of time. She'd come to a dead end. There was something she was not seeing, but what was it? She could not figure it out. It was then she realized the answers were not in NY but back in DC. She knew she had to go back to headquarters, maybe get some information. However, she didn't want to return to headquarters without Mulder, so she was stuck in NY until she found evidence to clear him, or convict him. It was then she remembered her best friend Ellen moved up to NYC a little over a year ago - God, it must have been about half a year since she last spoke to her. The last time she saw her was before Deep Throat was killed. Scully knew she was being a pretty horrible friend, but the cases had taken up so much of her time. She had very little time for a personal life, at least when a partner like Mulder was prone to go off on his own and almost always wound up in a hospital when he did. She pulled her address book from her briefcase. She always carried it around with her, never knowing when it would come in handy. Ellen's apartment, according to her address book, was only a few blocks from the restaurant. She made up her mind to go visit Ellen. Mulder was in jail. He was safe for the time being. Chapter 6 Ellen's Apartment 1:00 PM Scully had been debating with herself for the last five minutes. She knew ringing the doorbell would be a good idea. However, she was beginning to think that even coming to the door was a mistake. She mentally admonished herself, swallowed all hesitation and pressed the doorbell. "Mom! Someone's at the door!" a young voice yelled from inside. "I'll be there in a minute!" a woman's voice yelled back. Scully could hear the noise of someone running. The door opened. The woman was a little taller than Scully with shoulder length brown hair. She was a little thinner than Scully remembered her and a tiny bit older. She seemed more than a little surprised to see Scully in front of her. "Dana?" Ellen questioned. Scully nodded, "Hi El," she smiled. Ellen reached out and hugged her friend tightly, smiling. "What are you doing here? I haven't heard from you in a while." "I was here unexpectedly and wanted to surprise you." "Well, you certainly did. Come on in." Scully walked through the doorway. The apartment was large. It consisted of at least seven rooms. The living room was decorated tastefully and was the first thing Scully saw when she walked into the house. A young boy with curly, light brown hair was sitting on the carpet watching television. The boy recognized Scully and ran to her. "Hi Trent!" Scully said and hugged him. He went back to watching television. Scully and Ellen walked into the kitchen. Ellen turned on a coffee maker. They both sat in comfortable brown chairs at the kitchen table. "You look different, Dana," Ellen stated. She noticed her friend was pale, less alive than she remembered her, and sadder than she'd ever seen her. "I am different," Scully answered. "You sounded fine on the phone and in the letters," Ellen said compassionately. "I lied. I didn't really tell you what was going on," Scully said, not looking at her friend. Ellen was taken slightly aback by this information. "What's happened to you?" Scully took a deep breath. She didn't tell her friend the truth before about her life because, she could not handle the retelling. It was easier to lie, something which made her feel awful. Now, she was sitting in Ellen's kitchen. She did not have to worry about what she would think of her. She was one of her best friends. She would understand. Ellen had seen her at some of her worst times. "Would you like a cup of coffee?" Ellen asked suddenly. Scully nodded and Ellen got up to fix two cups. She came back a minute or so later with two steaming mugs. Ellen placed one mug in front of Scully and placed the other one in front of herself. "It all started after you left..." Scully began. Over the next couple of hours, she re-told everything that happened to her over the past few years. Ellen listened with a mixture of compassion, sadness and horror. She could not believe what her friend had been through. Scully had never told anyone everything that happened to her like she was telling Ellen. At the end of her story, she was shocked to find tears streaming down her face. Ellen was tearing also feeling incredibly deep pain for her friend. They hugged again. Scully felt a sense of relief come over her. It was a release of her pain. "Oh my God, Dana..." Ellen was at a loss for words. "I feel better after telling you El." Scully wiped away a few tears and took a sip of coffee, which had long ago turned cold. "I can't believe all that's happened to you..." Ellen was still in shock. "Sometimes I feel like the put-upon heroine of a melodrama," Scully admitted. "You're such a strong person. I could never have handled all that. I would have cracked." Ellen covered Scully's hand with hers. "I had no choice El. I couldn't break down. I had to stay sane. I had to be resilient." "For yourself?" "After Melissa's death, I had to be sane for Mom. I had to be the strong one." "And after your brush with death?" "I remembered nothing. I just wanted to put it behind me." Scully's eyes took on a hard look. Ellen recognized the look and backed off. "So, how is Trent doing?" Scully forced herself to smile. She wanted to change the subject quickly. "Oh, he's fine. Got into that school I was telling you about." Ellen brightened up for Scully's benefit. "Why isn't he in school today?" "He has off all this week. It's mid-winter break." Ellen stood up to dump out her coffee. "That's good. How's Andrew?" Scully was referring to Ellen's husband Dr. Andrew Specks. "Oh, he's fine too." She smiled as she reached into the refrigerator to get a snack for Trent. "Want an apple, Trent?" Ellen called out to her son. "No! I want cookies!" Trent yelled back. Ellen instinctively reached for a container of milk. "Would you grab some cookies from the cabinet, Dana?" Ellen asked Scully. "Sure." Scully stood up and opened up a cabinet. She was lucky. It was the snack one. She reached for a bag of Chips Ahoy and took a few cookies out. Ellen had already placed a plate on the counter, so Scully placed about five cookies on the plate. While Scully did that, Ellen poured milk into a tall glass. "Snack's ready, Trent!" she screamed into the living room. A few seconds later Trent bounded in, grabbed the cookies and milk, said a quick thank you, and went back to watching TV. "So you didn't tell me what brings you to NY. Is it a new case?" Ellen put the milk away. Scully took another cookie out of the bag. "Yeah, it's a new case." She nibbled on the cookie. "What is it about? Can you tell me?" "It's sort of complicated. It has something to do with the murder of a young woman under bizarre circumstances." Scully bit into the cookie and chewed. "Shouldn't you be investigating?" "I've sort of run into a dead end. Besides, I'm leaving tomorrow. I only hope Mulder will be okay in jail." Scully finished off the cookie quickly. "In jail?" Ellen's ears perked up. "I shouldn't have said that. It just came out. Yes, in jail. It's a long and complicated story, which I don't feel like discussing now. The NYC police think he's a serial rapist who has murdered six women." Ellen walked over to Scully. "Oh my God, do you think they're right?" Scully debated with herself for a couple of seconds, then reached down to get another cookie. She was always amazed at her friend's ability to ask questions point blank and get to the heart of a situation. "I don't know, the victims, the testimony...I really don't know." Scully bit into and finished the second cookie. "What about the victims Dana?" Scully took a deep breath. "El, the only surviving victim gave a statement. The man who attacked her, the man who looked and sounded just like Mulder, was calling her Scully. The killer said something to this woman that only Mulder could have known. The detectives played a tape of the killer's voice. It was his voice, I'd know that voice anywhere. I've heard it so often." Scully sat down at the table and sighed. "As much as I don't want to believe it, I can think of no one else who could be responsible." She wrapped her hands around the cold cup of coffee. The mug felt comforting for some reason. 5:00 PM Lori Teller noticed the couple enter. The man was tall and wore a gray suit. He had on dark sunglasses, a black overcoat, and a black hat. The woman with him was tall also. She was wearing a black pants suit. Her blonde hair was in a tight French braid. Lori couldn't stop staring at the man and assumed that the blonde woman was his girlfriend or something. "Hello, we are here to see Mr. Mulder," the man said with a light southern accent. "Who are you?" "I'm his new lawyer." "Who is she?" "She's my assistant." "Do you have ID?" The man showed his NYC lawyer's card. Lori turned to talk to Jerry. "More visitors for Agent Mulder." She whispered. "I'll take them back to the holding pen." Jerry whispered back. He then turned to the couple. "If you'll follow me." They were led through a series of gates with bars until they reached Mulder's cell. This was only a temporary holding pen. Mulder glanced at couple quickly. He had never seen them before in his life. The man looked oddly familiar, though. "Who are you?" Mulder asked standing near the door. The man smiled and took off his sunglasses. The woman walked up to Mulder and jabbed him with a hypodermic needle. Mulder felt a numbness spreading through his body. It started at his leg where he was stabbed and spread throughout his body. He fell down like a dead weight. "Have a nice sleep Agent Mulder," the man said. Mulder could have replied, but he realized as the man's face came closer, that he was looking into a mirror. He was too shocked to say anything and as he fell into darkness he thought that he might never wake up. "Okay, lets hurry up and switch your outfits," the woman said as she undressed the unconscious Mulder. The man agreed and the outfits were quickly exchanged. "Can you hold him up?" "No problem," the woman said. She put the sunglasses, overcoat, and hat on Mulder. She then draped one of his arms around her neck and held him up around the waist. She knocked on the bars of the cell a few times. A guard came a few seconds later. "What happened?" the guard asked as he took in the scene. "My associate fainted. He forgot to take his medicine today. I just have to bring him to the car." The woman stated, trying to keep Mulder up. "I'll help you." The guard said and grabbed an arm. The combined strength of the guard and the woman was enough to bring Mulder to the car. "Thank you so much for your help. Peter just needs his medicine." She smiled motioning towards Mulder. "You're welcome." the guard said, smitten with the beautiful woman. The woman got Mulder into the car, sat him in the front, and put a seatbelt on him. She waved to the guard and drove away. Her smile disappeared quickly, and she returned to her cool exterior. His head was rolling to the right side. The woman hoped the numbing effects of the designer drug known only as AT481B wore off soon. The drug's creator had promised that they would only last for a half-hour or so. The main purpose of the drug was the lack of resistance it offered. Somehow, the drug caused people to lose any resistance they had to anything. They became lambs to the slaughter, so to speak. All thoughts of escape vanished. Of course, those were weak people. She only hoped it worked the same way on him. She hoped the numbness lasted until they were at their destination. She was unsure how he would react to his new situation. According to at least five different people, he would either start screaming, try to break down the door, try to make her lose control of the car, sit in shock, or kill her. Usually she drove with the people she kidnapped in the trunk. She could not put him in the trunk though. That would be incredibly suspicious. However, driving next to him was making her anxious. To get rid of her ever rising anxiety, she flipped on the radio. The station was classical and the woman let her fear float away with "Swan Lake". As a kid, she had wanted to be a ballerina, and she had performed a solo to "Swan Lake" at her dance class recital. The teacher said the girl was talented. The girl was flattered, but now as a grown woman she realized that had been a lie. Time and circumstances had made her cynical. Most would call her heartless. She did not really care. After all, she was good at what she did. One of the best actually, and one of the few women allowed into the organization. Unlike most women, she never gossiped and would never tell the secrets that she knew. She could also commit horrible acts and be witness to horrible acts without the least bit of guilt or conscience. She knew the difference between right and wrong. She just chose to ignore it. She looked down the road and hoped she reached her destination soon. But first, she had a phone call to make. She took out a cellular phone and dialed a familiar number. "The switch has been made, onto Phase Two," she said into the phone and hung up. The man who answered it knew exactly what it meant. She called the shots and she was ready to go ahead with the plan. Ellen's Apartment 12:00 AM Ellen had insisted that Scully spend the night. She would have stayed anyway, because she was too tired to drive. She lay in a beautiful guest bed. She was watching a movie, although she was so tired that following the plot was almost impossible. Her physical state was one where lights seemed brighter and sound seemed louder. It felt like a hangover, although she'd had nothing to drink. Her body seemed to be pushing into the bed, as if hundreds of little hands were holding her down. When she closed her eyes she felt like she was falling and had to open them again quickly. After a few minutes of peaceful breathing, she closed her eyes again. At least she knew she would not be awakened by any late night phone calls or knocks on the door. Thinking this, she fell asleep. March 23 1:00 PM Scully had said goodbye to Ellen an hour before. She promised to tell Ellen the truth about her life from now on. It was a promise she was not entirely sure she could keep. She was stopping by the station to say goodbye to Mulder and perhaps to figure out a way to free him. "Did you find another lawyer yet Agent Scully?" Barrows asked stepping up to her as she walked through the doors. "No." "Well, you won't need one. A murder with the same M.O. happened last night. You were right, your partner isn't Garret. He's free to go. I'll make all the necessary arrangements." Barrows tried to hide his disappointment, unsucessfully. "I just hoped that there wouldn't be any more victims." He said softly. Was that sadness she heard in his voice? "It's personal for you isn't it Detective Barrows?" He looked up at her surprised, "The last time I heard my sister's voice she was going out for drinks with someone named Robert. They found her body a few days later. She was the first." He looked down, "So yes, it's personal." "I'm so sorry." "If...if you find him Agent Scully, could you do me a favor?" She nodded slowly. "Kill him, put a bullet in him for each victim, don't let this go to trial." He forced himself to be calm, but each word was tinged with hate and anger. "What you're asking me for is vigilante justice." She met his eyes, "Detective Barrows, whoever is responsible will pay, you have my word." All those women, dead and in such a horrific manner. "Thank you Agent Scully." He walked off quickly. Scully breathed a sigh of relief and sat down to wait for Mulder. She was not sure how long the whole process would take, but she had a lot of free time and knew if she left him on his own, he would go back and investigate Soren's spotless apartment again. She checked her watch. It couldn't be too much longer. 3:00 PM Scully, and the man who she thought was Mulder, walked out of the precinct. They reached the car, and he sat on the passenger side. She went around to the driver's door, opened it, and started up the car. The minute the car started moving, he closed his eyes and fell fast asleep. She guessed he had not had much sleep over the past few days. She was just glad to have him back. She was starting to worry about him while he was in jail, but he was cleared of the charges and now could go back home. She turned to a radio station with music she enjoyed and headed towards the airport. She returned the car to the rental agency. She felt bad about waking him up. He looked so peaceful. He could sleep on the plane though. Luckily, getting a ticket proved easy and about an hour later, they were on their way back to DC He slept the whole flight, which did not surprise her. She had tried to discuss what happened with him, but he had only murmured how tired he was and fell asleep. She was left alone with her thoughts and the *American Airlines* magazine, one of the most boring magazines in the world. She realized that she had not slept much over the last few days either, so she closed her eyes and fell asleep. The man awoke a few minutes before the plane began its descent into DC airport. He studied Scully's sleeping form and smiled. He could not wait to begin his part of Phase Two. Chapter 7 Location Unknown March 23 5:00 PM Mulder opened his eyes. The world was slowly coming into focus, although the only thing he could see were white walls. His first thought was how glad he was to be alive. His second was "Where the hell am I?". He tried to sit up and was surprised to find that he was restrained to a hospital bed. His right wrist was in a plastic cuff, which was attached to the bed. His left wrist was in the same predicament. A thick nylon strip went across his chest and hooked into the bed. Another thick nylon strip went across his hips and was hooked in the same way. A third thick nylon strip went across his calves. He could not move at all. He was even more surprised to discover that he had no desire to break out of the restraints. An IV line was imbedded into a vein in his left wrist. He could only guess why it was there. He noticed a constant stream of something going through the tube into his body, but had no idea what it could be. His thinking was still fuzzy, and he could not remember how he got to his present location. At that moment a beautiful woman entered the room. She was dressed all in black and had golden blonde hair. In her right hand she held a syringe. "So you're finally awake," the woman stated. "That drug kept you out longer than it was supposed to." She put the needle into a branch of the IV tube and pushed down on the top of the syringe. "This drug will most likely put you to sleep, but not for very long." The medicine traveled into his body and reached his brain. Suddenly, he did not care where he was, or why. The woman smiled at him, revealing perfect, white teeth. "You will not be here very long," she said as he fell into a drug induced slumber. "Just long enough for us to destroy your life," she whispered when she was sure he couldn't hear her. Mulder's Apartment 7:00 PM Scully had dropped him off at his apartment. She figured all Mulder wanted to do was lie on his couch and sleep, although he had done enough of that during the past few hours. She wanted to talk to him. Maybe she would be able to speak with him in the morning, after he had a few hours uninterrupted sleep. She drove away, thinking of having a nice salad and sitting down to watch a relaxing night of television when she arrived home. At least she knew this was one night where he would not be plagued with insomnia. The man found Mulder's apartment easily and used the key that he was given. He went directly to the kitchen and tried to find something to eat. Not an easy prospect, for Mulder had been away on numerous cases for a few weeks and hadn't had a chance to go food shopping. He opened the fridge anyway, dismayed to find only a box of "Arm and Hammer" baking soda, a stick of butter, a can of beer, a container of orange juice, and a bottle of ketchup. He tried the freezer. The only things in the freezer were in zip-lock baggies and did not appear edible. He did not even want to chance it. He closed the freezer angrily and walked into the bedroom. It barely looked lived in. There was no bed. The man opened the closet, hoping to find something nice to wear the next day, but with no such luck. "Mulder has absolutely no taste in clothing," He said aloud, throwing suit after suit out of the closet. He shuddered when he saw the ties. The people he worked for tried to make his ties as ugly as Mulder's and had failed miserably. "No one can wear ties this ugly," He threw a red, green and yellow plaid tie out of the closet. The ties only got uglier from there. Some of them could be considered kind of funny, but most were hideous. Although, considering how drab and dull the suits were, the ties showed personality. He walked back into the living room. The only posters on the wall were very odd. What significance a typewriter had, he would never know. He opened up a cabinet and almost laughed at what he found. The entire cabinet was full of porn movies. Some of them were still in their original wrapping, but most were opened. He took out one of the opened boxes and read the title aloud, "Cassandra, the Temptress." The box showed a scantily clad brunette tying a man up to a wall. The back of the box was blank, which was not a big surprise. Most porn movies did not have plot synopses. No one watched porn for the brilliant plot. The man put the box back into the cabinet and closed it. He lay down on the couch and turned on the TV. Turning through the stations he found a movie that interested him. A woman was screaming and a psycho rapist was coming after her. The man rooted for the psycho. March 24 7:00 AM The drug had worn off. Mulder's eyes snapped open and he started to plan a way to escape. He fought against the restraints, realizing after a few minutes it was pointless. The only way to get out of the restraints was to have someone release him. The blonde woman walked into the room and turned on the overhead fluorescent lights. She was not carrying a syringe this time. He was not sure whether or not that was a good thing. The only thing he was sure of was that he had never felt so vulnerable before. She was carrying a pitcher and a glass, which was probably a good sign. She sat down on a black cushioned chair near the bed and poured what looked like water into the glass. She held it to his mouth and let him drink. It was then he realized that it had been over 24 hours since he had taken in any water. The woman crossed her legs. She wore another black pants suit, and her hair was in the same loose bun. She obviously prided herself on regularity. He found himself starting to wonder if she owned any other clothing or just had many outfits which looked exactly alike. "I've been watching you for quite some time, Agent Mulder, " the woman whispered to him. "What is in the IV bag?" he asked, his voice rough from disuse. "Glucose. If we were going to keep you unconscious, we certainly did not want you to be dehydrated." The woman gestured towards it. From the way she said we, he realized that she was more than just a hired accomplice to them. She was actually part of the inner circle. That surprised him. He was not aware that there was a woman in the group. Especially one so young she barely seemed old enough to remember Woodstock, let alone know anything about what happened in the 1950's. "Why am I here?" he asked, his voice a little stronger. "Come on, you know I can't tell you anything." She reached into her jacket pocket and withdrew a cigarette. She lit it and took a puff. "Then why are you here?" She blew smoke into his face, which made his eyes water a little. "Let's just say that I have other motives." she whispered to him in a low breathy voice and smiled again. He swallowed, something in her eyes gave him the impression he did not want to know what those were. Scully's Apartment 10:17 AM Reluctantly Scully opened her eyes to face the new day. She was still exhausted, although she had no idea why. However, the phone was ringing so she reached over and answered it. "Hello?" She knew she sounded like she had just woken up. "Scully, it's me." "Where are you?" "At home. A piece of information was left for me. Crop circles in Ohio." "Crop circles?" "I know what it sounds like, but I think there is more to this than meets the eye. I think that the crop circles are a cover up." "For what?" She was still too tired to think clearly. "I don't know, but I would like to get out there and investigate." She glanced around her apartment then sighed, "Okay, when are we leaving?" "Feel like taking a nice long drive?" "Do I have a choice?" "Not really, but don't worry, I promise I will let you choose the music this time." He smiled. "Okay, if you promise, then I guess a long drive will be okay." She smiled also. "Pick you up in an hour?" "No, I need more time, how about two hours?" "That's okay. See you then." She hung up the phone. She turned her attention towards packing another suitcase, as well as choosing music to bring along. She choose the Beatles Anthology Parts I and II. She adored it and Mulder liked it, so the ride would be peaceful. She was hoping that they would get a chance to talk during the trip. Part of her was almost honored to even be invited along. Usually, when he got a tip about a cover-up, he would run off alone, throwing caution to the wind. During the ride home from the airport, he seemed so distant, although she was pretty sure that was only from exhaustion. Actually, he had been pretty distant over the past week or so. She still had no idea what he was doing in NYC to begin with. Realizing that she was wasting time, she walked into the bathroom and took a quick shower. She debated about what to wear, then she noticed a new suit that she had bought a week or so ago. She walked out of her bedroom and took a quick look in the mirror. She had blow dried her hair so that it was straighter than usual. She realized that one thing she needed desperately was a haircut and made a mental note to make an appointment when she got back. She placed her suitcase near the door and put the tapes in her handbag. She slipped into a pair of low black heels and turned her wrist to look at the time, noticing the thin bracelet watch she had accidentally selected. It was exactly 12:17. She walked over to look out the window. The car was there. So, she picked up her suitcase, grabbed her briefcase and handbag, then walked out the door. She walked down the stairs quickly, glad she had packed lightly. After putting her suitcase into the trunk she got into the passenger seat. "Sorry," she apologized while digging through her pocket book for the tapes. "It's okay. I just got here." The man started the car and drove away. "So, did you bring any music?" "Yes. Mind if I put in the Beatles?" "No, not at all." He was keeping his eyes on the road. She opened up the box and put in the first tape. The first three hours of their trip passed without any conversation. The only sound was the Beatles's singing. She was starting to go nuts. She had never seen him so quiet. "Are you going to be silent this entire trip?" she asked exasperated. "Sorry, I've been lost in thought," he apologized and turned up the radio. She reached over and turned down the radio. "So why didn't we fly to Ohio?" "They could track us that way. This is safer," The man said. He congratulated himself on his grasp of Mulder's character. "What are you expecting to find out in Ohio?" "The Kindred have returned," he said softly. She waited a minute before saying anything. "The same Kindred that lived in Massachusetts and could change their sex?" "The very same." She knew why he was not telling the Bureau about this new case. He had no evidence technically, and no reason to investigate. "Why would they resurface?" "You mean come back," he said seriously. She touched her ear and realized that she had forgotten to put on earrings. "How much further?" "Only about 2 hours. Take a nap, you look tired." She thought that was odd, him telling her to sleep; but then again, she did feel tired. "Sure. I won't be out for very long." She put her seat back and fell asleep. He allowed himself a smile. Only two hours to go, not very far away at all. "Have a nice sleep, Agent Scully," He said and turned off the tape. He hated the Beatles. Chapter 8 Location Unknown Time Unknown It was night, or rather Mulder guessed it was night. He had no idea how many hours had passed since he was taken from the jail. At least he was no longer restrained to the bed and now was allowed free movement. It was a relief because he hated being tied up. He hated the lack of control. His feet dragged slightly as he paced back and forth slowly. He was tired, more tired then he could ever remember being. He would not lay down, though. He was absolutely convinced that if he kept moving, he would be able to stay awake. He did not trust the blonde woman who kept visiting him. She did not give him any information. None of them ever did. The worst part was the way she kept looking at him and that low breathy voice she used. If he didn't know better, he would swear she was trying to seduce him. He didn't remember being taken from the jail, or how he had arrived at his present location. He only remembered two people walking into a room, and then total darkness until he regained consciousness. He wondered where Scully was, and if she had sent out the national guard to search for him yet. He banged on the wall. It was not plaster as he had first assumed. Rather it was metal painted gleaming white. He kept his eyes closed, because the overhead lights bounced off the walls creating a blinding glare. The door opened, and the blonde stepped in. She was wearing the same black outfit and smiled coldly at him. He did not even attempt to get past her. Part of him realized that whatever drug she was using on him was working. She walked closer to him, and he backed up. She was carrying a small pistol. His legs brushed against the bed frame, and he fell back onto the mattress. The blonde got a hungry look in her eyes and walked closer towards him. She bit her lip and took her hair out of the bun. It cascaded down, perfectly framing her face. She proceeded to open the top few buttons of her suit jacket and blouse. He quickly realized what she was planning to do and tried to stand up. She pushed him back down. She was strong for her size. One of her hands was taking her jacket off while the other held the gun on him. "Do you know how long I've waited for this? They won't let me hurt you...but they didn't say anything about fucking you." "What is your name?" He decided to see how much information he could get out of her. Her actions showed she was not thinking clearly. The woman threw her jacket to the ground. "Alana, so you know what to scream." she answered. He blinked quickly and tried to sit up again. This time, he succeeded, but she was holding the gun against his chest. "Why are you doing this?" It was the only thing that came to his mind. "Relax, you can't escape and there are many men who would love to switch places with you at this moment." Her voice became low and breathy and she laughed slightly. "Then why don't you go to one?" "Because," she said pushing him back and undoing the last few buttons of her blouse, "I want you." She straddled him and lowered her lips to his ear. "No more questions." she whispered her breath hot against his ear. She wrapped her hand around his tie, pulled him up towards her and kissed him, biting his tongue on purpose. She unbuttoned his shirt slowly and grinned over him. "God I wish I was allowed to hurt you..." She whispered and raked her nails down his chest. Coller Farm 6:00 PM Scully felt the car lurch and opened her eyes. "Where are we?" she asked as she sat up. "The location of the crop circles. Springston, Ohio." The man answered as he stepped out of the car. "Are the Kindred around here?" she asked checking her appearance in the passenger side mirror before exiting the car. "Somewhere around here," he turned slowly in place, searching all horizons. They walked into the fields. From the looks of things, it had been a long time since anything but weeds had grown on the farm. However, she could not see any signs of crop circles or discoloration. About 200 feet away from where he parked the car was a farmhouse. It was made entirely of light gray stained wood. It was most likely two stories, although with the vaulted roof it was hard to say. "Is this another one of your wild goose chases?" She asked over her shoulder as she knelt down to feel the ground. She waited for his response, there was none. She stood up and looked around. He had walked off without her. This did not surprise her at all. She turned around and looked further out into the field, but he did not go that way. She turned to the farmhouse, figuring he would go there to look for evidence. "Mulder, where are you?" She called over towards the farmhouse. "At the farmhouse, come over here, I want to show you something." He called to her. She walked towards the house. It looked deserted. "What is it?" she asked when she was a few feet away. "I have no idea. I thought maybe you would. It's in the bedroom." He shrugged and took a sunflower seed out of his overcoat pocket. He proceeded to crack it open and throw the shell onto the ground. She walked past him and went into the house. Her earlier assumption of desertion was right. She guessed no one had lived in the farmhouse for at least ten years. There was a thin film of dust over the entire house, and a musty smell permeated the rooms. As she walked towards the stairway, she heard someone come up behind her. "Don't turn around, Scully," she heard a voice behind her say. "Mulder? What are you...doing?" She felt as if her world had just been turned upside down. She could feel the butt of his gun at the back of her neck. She was too shocked to react, then mercifully the pressure of the gun was gone. However, she realized too late that it was coming towards her head, and she crumpled to the ground. The man named Robert Garret smiled over the body. He pistol whipped her to knock her out, but not to cause her any damage. The damage was supposed to come later. Those were his orders. 9:45 PM Alana dressed quickly and smiled. She had gotten what she wanted. Garret was a poor substitute for the real thing. She had not needed the gun. The drugs had made Mulder willing and responsive enough. Well, perhaps his mind was not willing, but that was not the body part from which she had wanted to elicit a response. She was reaching over to put him back into restraints so that she could put the IV back in, when his hand suddenly reached up and grabbed onto her wrist. He sat up quickly and squeezed her wrist hard, twisting her arm. She let out a gasp of pain and swung at him with her free hand. He grabbed that hand also and pulled her until he was looking into her eyes. She realized he was not as willing as she had assumed. Her gun lay useless a few feet away. "Why am I here?" Mulder demanded. Alana was quiet. She knew he would not harm her. After reading all the information in his files, she could tell that he did not hurt women. "Why am I here?" he repeated, his voice more menacing. "I don't have to tell you anything," she replied harshly and tried to twist out of his grip. However, she was too weak, and her wrists were starting to hurt. "Be happy you're still alive, which is more than I can say for your friend Kara." "How do you know about Kara?" She laughed slightly, "We know everything." "Did you kill her?" "You didn't think she was killed by a ghost did you?" "Why did she have to die?" She considered her answer for a few seconds. She wanted to shock him into letting go. "She died because of you, to reel you in." It worked, because he loosened his grip for a second, and she pulled away from him. She backed up, retrieved her gun from the floor, and held it on him, daring him to move. "Get dressed," she commanded as she walked backwards out of the room. She wasn't going to turn her back on him for a second. Only when she was outside and the door was locked did she allow herself to relax. She rubbed her wrists, walked to the nearest bathroom and went inside. She looked in the mirror above the sink, reapplied her lipstick and took a deep breath. She was not prepared for that at all, the drug was supposed to stop something like that from happening. She made a mental note to kill the inventor. The designer drug did not work very well. Alana hoped that when they decided to get rid of Mulder once and for all, they'd let her do the honors. A bullet would kill just as easily, but it was too quick and painless. After the trouble he'd caused, he deserved a slow and tortuous death one where he would scream until his throat was raw. She shivered thinking about it and remembered other times where she had tortured people to death. Grandfather didn't approve of course, he wanted his little granddaughter to have clean hands. She grinned at her reflection. He didn't understand that she wanted to get dirty. Thinking about Mulder just made her angry. Scheme after elaborate scheme had failed. So many people had died for no reason, and all to stop one man. The more she thought of it the angrier she became, and the more frustrated she was with the situation. She raised her gun and shot at an empty stall. It didn't make her feel any better, but at least the gun was out of bullets. If she hadn't emptied it, she would have murdered some random person on her way back to her room. That wasn't her style, she didn't believe in senseless killing. She only hurt someone, when she felt she had a reason. Coller Farmhouse 7:30 PM As Scully's world swam slowly into focus, it was dark. She realized quickly that her arms were locked around a metal pole that ran from ceiling to floor. She moved her legs into a more comfortable position. They were tied with rope. There was a figure in the corner of the room. It was sitting quietly and murmuring something. It flipped a switch and the light went on. Scully's heart sank as she realized who it was. "Why are you doing this Mulder?" she tried to reason with him. He was probably just stressed out. "I've been watching you through him," Garret said softly. "What?" "At those times that you're alone with him. I have whispered thoughts into his brain, things he should do to you," He continued, his voice still soft. "Mulder, what are you saying?" She tried to be rational, but she was becoming a little scared. Plus, a dull pain was starting in the back of her head and working its way forward. "Things I would do to you." He paused for a moment, then continued, "I've always wanted to hear you scream in pain." He looked into her eyes. She shut her eyes, trying to ignore the blood rush and wanting to avoid the penetrating stare. "He would never do it. He was too good, too nice. He never lets me have any fun, unless of course...." He grinned slightly, "I take control." She opened her eyes, he was still there. She was wrong, this was not a product of stress. He had snapped. Maybe he had multiple personality syndrome after all. "Would you like to know where I come from?" "I already know, Skinner said Robert Garret was a rapist that you killed years ago. That somehow he is controlling you now..." "Perhaps, but the foundation was there long before that killer came along. I first showed myself years ago, when I stopped him from committing suicide one dark lonely night in England. I am the result of years of abuse and betrayal, self-hatred turned on the rest of the world. He's powerless against me and knows it. Whenever I take over, some pretty young woman usually dies..." He paused for a second. "I'm in control now and you're next..." Garret almost laughed. He only had to look over at her to know the psychological part of his assignment was working perfectly. Scully gasped and tried to struggle out of the handcuffs, to no avail. "Mulder, you can stop this, you can get help. I know you've been under a lot of stress lately, but you'll find the answers some day. You're stronger than this." Scully managed to tell him. Garret talked louder. "I am not Mulder. My name is Robert Garret." He stood up and walked to her. He knelt down and hissed into her ear. "And after tomorrow, you'll never want to see us again anyway." She desperately tried to remember anything she could about mental break downs and multiple personalities. However, her head was still hurting, and she felt pain right at her temples. She refused to give up. "I know you're in there somewhere Mulder, and I know you can stop him. I believe in you," Scully said outwardly confident, but trying to convince herself. "Oh, don't worry he's here. I can hear him screaming and begging for me to stop hurting people whenever I start to have a little fun. In fact, I think the events of tomorrow might destroy him completely, leaving only me." Garret stood up and walked towards the door. "Have a nice night, Scully," he said laughing and locked the door behind him. Scully could only stare numbly at the door and try furtively to make sense of anything she had just heard. Her mind conjured up horrible images of what the next day would bring. Part of her realized she might not make it out of the farmhouse alive, and that terrified her. Another part of her realized that she might not want to live. She knew about rape victims, it was part of her FBI training. She remembered how the women who were raped by friends or family members had reacted. She easily saw herself in them now. She had trusted him for such a long time, never realizing the devil that crept just beneath the surface. This was worse than any gargoyle. Mulder had an alter-ego, that she must now accept, and it was something out of her worst nightmare. He was absolutely insane, yet sane enough to plan and enjoy what he was doing. Scully thought back to the crime photos she had viewed only a few days prior. They alluded to someone who took time with his work and enjoyed the fear in his victim's eyes. She suspected though, that Garret personally enjoyed the degrading and beating of the women. The killing was only secondary. Scully shuddered involuntarily. She was fleshing out the profile of a man who was about to do her great physical harm. Not just any man, her partner. She forced herself to remember the way Mulder was and to decide if she could live with her decision to kill him. The answer was quick. There was no other choice. It was either kill him or...become a victim. But, what if she was wrong? What if his problem just stemmed from stress and he was making up a lot of things as he went along? It didn't make sense, the dates didn't match, as strongly as she had believed Mulder wasn't Garret she now wished she had believed Skinner. Scully struggled with the handcuffs, finding them impossible to get off. The rope was the same way. Then, she remembered something - there was no calvary. No one even knew they were out in the middle of Ohio. Her mind clicked as she began to wonder exactly when Garret had taken control. The only thing that made sense to her was that they had never reached their destination, and the minute Garret took over they had stopped at the first deserted farm along the road. She knew there were a lot of them in this part of Ohio. The issues were too big for her to handle. She had no right answers and she knew any choice would have its repercussions. She silently prayed for Mulder to come to his senses before the next morning. Even if he didn't, she thought maybe what happened with Teresa would happen with her. He might start sobbing. She made a silent promise to herself - if she survived the next day, she would make sure Mulder went away for a long time. Not only for herself but for the women in the photos. She could not reason that Garret would be in control. To her, it was as if Mulder would be committing the crimes against her himself. The anger, betrayal and pain she would feel, all feelings she had towards him would be destroyed. Even worse, she knew that if he didn't go to jail, she'd kill him herself. That much she was sure of and it terrified her. She tried rationalizing that the guilt Mulder would feel would push him into the abyss of insanity. . She tried to make herself believe it. It was hard to make her mind accept the reasoning. Tears fell from her eyes and she was unable to stop them. They dripped onto her suit and down to the floor. Then, she did something she hadn't done in a while, she prayed. "God, please help me...I'm afraid and I'm powerless to stop what will happen. I never thought that I would be in this situation and I need your help. Please help me, please help me..." She chanted almost like a mantra. Ironically she hated asking for help, but now she sought comfort in it. She closed her eyes still chanting softly and hoped her dreams brought some sort of answer. Chapter 9 10:00 PM Mulder awoke in a cold sweat and sat up. He had just remembered who had kidnapped him, himself. He was tempted to write it off as a dream, but it made sense. His latest theory was they were keeping him, for some reason until a certain time. He started to think up reasons for his being held, but they didn't make much sense. Reasons why that brunette said he had attacked her. Suddenly, he hit on a reason that made sense and scared him. They wanted him in jail so that they could make a switch. There was something else too, Scully, she was the common thread throughout all of the recent events. Whoever looked like him, was with her and planned to do something. Instinct told him they were not planning to bake her a cake. He thought for a few more seconds and then realized he had to warn her. Suddenly he realized who was with her and had a pretty good idea of what they were planning to do. He decided to stand behind the door and wait for Alana to come in. He could easily overpower her and force her to tell him where Scully was. The door opened and Mulder sprang on Alana. He put his right arm around her throat and grabbed the gun from her left hand. The hypodermic needle she was holding fell out of her right hand and hit the floor. "Where's Scully?" He demanded roughly. Alana did not answer, so Mulder wrapped his arm around her throat tighter and put the gun to her head. "Where's Scully?" Alana saw spots in front of her eyes, she was starting to black out. "Coller Farm.....in.....Springston...Ohio." She gasped. Mulder loosened his grip and Alana took a deep breath. "She's alone?" Alana shook her head slightly, "She's with Garret." Pieces fell into place and Mulder got a sick feeling at the pit of his stomach. "What's going to happen to her?" "Whatever Garret wants to do to her, he will." "How do I get out of here?" Alana squirmed out of his grip and lunged down to get the medicine, she had to knock him out. If he got there before Garret was finished, the plan was ruined. However, Mulder anticipated her movement and grabbed the needle before she could reach it. She didn't have time to react, and he stabbed the hypodermic needle into her thigh pressing down hard. Her eyes were wide with shock as she fell to the ground, oblivious to the world around her. He hoped whatever was in there would put her out for a while. He picked up her pocketbook and found a set of keys. He could only pray that the car wasn't hard to find. The room's door opened easily and an exit door was only a few feet from the room. Luckily for him, hers was the only car in the lot, and he was soon on his way to Ohio. An hour or so later, Alana opened her eyes and stood up. She realized, angrily, that he was gone and took a small pad out of her pocketbook leaving herself a note to kill whoever created that drug. She straightened herself out and fixed her hair. She took a cellular phone out of her pocket and dialed quickly. "Agent Mulder has escaped." "Does he know of the plan?" "Not all of it...but I think he put the pieces together. I told him Agent Scully's location." "Why did you do a foolish thing like that?" "He had a gun to my head. He would have killed me if I didn't tell him the information." "Are you sure of that?" "Yes, I am sure. Perhaps Garret will be finished and gone by the time Agent Mulder gets there." She knew this was not going to happen. "Did you remember to give Mulder the amnesia drug?" "Yes, he will not remember anything that happened to him here. Also, he will not have any recollection at all of how he reached the farmhouse." "And when Agent Scully sees him?" "If Garret finished his job, she won't be able to look at him. She'll never trust him again." "I am very disappointed in you, Alana. Your father would be disappointed also if he was still alive. You were trusted with an assignment and you failed. Because you are my granddaughter, I will not punish you this time. The next time you fail, expect the usual consequences." "I understand, Grandfather," Alana said humbly. "I hope you do understand Alana. The others will be very displeased. We have spent months on this plan. It had a few flaws, but it would have worked. For your well-being, I will tell them Agent Mulder escaped by killing a guard. That way they cannot blame you fully." "Thank you, Grandfather. Do you want me to see you when I get back to New York City?" "Yes, come here at once." The well-manicured man hung up the phone. Alana realized she had failed, but there would be other opportunities. One unfortunate side effect to the missing time drug was that Agent Mulder would not remember her. Well, that could also be a good thing. She walked out of the room and shut the door behind her. She walked out to the lot and screamed in frustration. He had stolen her car and it was brand new too. Coller Farmhouse March 25 11:04 AM Garret stood over Scully. He had moved her to a bed but did not handcuff her. He ran a hand through his short brown hair and watched her sleep. He was looking forward to completing his mission. His only regret was, he would not be allowed to kill her. Killing her would totally destroy the purpose of the assignment. Scully's eyes snapped open, and Garret stepped away from the bed. She jumped off the bed and swung at him. He caught her wrist and twisted it behind her. She heard a small crack and felt a horrible burning pain throughout her arm. To counteract, she jabbed him hard in the stomach with her free elbow. He let go of her arm with a gasp of surprise. She kneed him in the groin and he fell to the ground in pain. She took the opportunity to run to the door and try to open it. It was locked, and he was walking towards her. Before she could react, he swung her around and punched her in the face. She stepped back in shock. He punched her again, and she fell to the ground. Her lip was bleeding and her right cheek was swelling. Garret bent and grabbed her roughly by the arm. He pulled her up and threw her against the bed. She hit her head against the wall. He then pulled out a pair of handcuffs and locked her wrists around a pole in the middle of the headboard. "Mulder, fight him!" she screamed through swollen lips. "You're stronger than this! You can fight it!" she said, hoping she could get through to him. "Shut up!" he growled and slapped her on the face. She knew Mulder was gone. It was his body, and those were his hands but his eyes looked different. They were cold and cruel. Any sadness orkindness had left his face. It had become all sharp angles. Garret took a small metal object from his pocket. It was a switchblade knife. He opened it and slit her blouse down the middle. He made a cut down each arm and ripped off the blouse. He took off his own jacket and touched Scully's bare midriff. She realized what he was going to do and started to twist and turn. Garret climbed on top of her and slapped her again and again. Scully started to scream. Someone else had to be within listening distance. Inside her mind she kept up her chanting prayer. Coller Farm 11:20 AM Mulder drove up and parked quickly. He had driven a long time and it took him even longer to find Coller Farm. He hopped out of the car, and the first thing he heard was a scream followed by another and another. His blood froze as he realized who was screaming. "Stop squirming, or I'll cut your fucking throat!" he heard a male voice shout, one that sounded very familiar. Mulder ran into the house and up the stairs to the origin of the screams. He held Alana's gun tightly and kicked open the door. "Get off of her!" Mulder screamed, clicking off the gun's safety. Garret jumped off the bed and spun around to face Mulder. Mulder had his finger near the trigger, but found that he could not fire. It would be like killing himself, watching himself die. The thought terrified him. Garret had none of those qualms. True, his mission was to destroy Scully's trust in Mulder. Not to kill both of them. However, the circumstances had just changed. He ran towards Mulder and swiped his knife at him. Mulder hesitated again to pull the trigger, and Garret barreled into him. The gun skidded away and Mulder found himself on the ground with a knife at his throat. "Ready to die by your own hands?" Garret asked menacingly. Mulder felt the steel at his throat, gently pressing into his carotid artery. It was then he realized he had to kill the man on top of him. In a moment of strength, Mulder managed to get the knife away from his neck. The knife skidded away from both of them. Garret was still on top of Mulder. From Scully's viewpoint, both men looked the same. She could not tell who was winning. Garret put his hands around Mulder's neck and started choking him. Mulder put his thumbs into Garret's eyes. Garret let go with a scream of pain. Mulder punched Garret in the chest and stunned him. That gave Mulder just enough time to get out from under Garret and scramble to the gun. Garret turned on Mulder with an evil glint in his eyes and Mulder stood up. Garret and Mulder struggled for the gun, the gun pointing at each one. Each fighting for control. Then, a gunshot went off. Scully watched the whole fight, thinking how surreal it was. She could not blame Mulder for not being able to shoot Garret right away. After all, she was pretty sure that she could not shoot someone who looked exactly like her. One man was standing. He looked down at the gun in his hand and dropped it. "Mulder?" Scully asked nervously. She tried to sit up and failed. Mulder nodded and took off his jacket. He covered her chest with it. He reached over to undo the handcuffs. Scully was still in a state of shock. She swore that she almost had a heart attack when the door opened, and he was there. she thought silently. The relief she felt could not be put into words. The handcuffs came off with a little click, and she suddenly realized that either her wrist or arm was broken. Mulder knelt down next to the bed. Scully put the coat around herself as best she could. "Scully, I got here as soon as I could. I had just escaped from..." He trailed off, looking lost and confused. "Mulder, lets get out of here," she said, tears threatening to fall. But he did not answer her, just continued staring straight ahead. "Mulder?" She tried again, but he fell back onto the hard wooden floor. Scully was on her feet and at his side. She could feel a heartbeat, but knew that he needed medical attention. However, he was still slightly conscious. "There was a woman..." he said, in a ragged voice and then was silent. Scully crawled over to Garret's jacket and pulled out a cellular phone. She called a hospital, and they told her they were sending an ambulance over. Luckily, their tracking system was able to find the farm quickly. Scully grabbed the gun from the floor, and standing a good few feet away, shot Garret in the head and body 5 times. <2nd victim, 3rd victim, 4th victim, 5th victim, 6th victim> She thought after each squeeze of the trigger. She had fulfilled her promise. The ambulance, the meat wagon and the police arrived about 20 minutes later. Scully told the police that the person shot in the upstairs room had been a suspect and was holding her partner hostage, a story she made up while waiting for the ambulance, and showed them her badge. They believed her without a problem and Mulder was put into the ambulance, Scully went with him, the doctors wanted to check out her arm. The EMT's hooked him up to an IV needle and drove off. During the ride, Mulder regained consciousness. "What happened?" he whispered, totally confused. "Where am I?" He tried to sit up, and Scully pushed him down gently with her good arm. "Don't sit up. You have been unconscious for a while," she said compassionately. Mulder looked up at her. "Scully, what happened to your face?" He was concerned. It was hard to miss her swollen and bruised face. Scully was silent for a few moments. She could not tell him the truth. So, told him the same story she told the police. "You disappeared a few days ago. I got a tip that you would be here, and the person who abducted you tried to kill me. They had some notion that you were to be sacrificed in the middle of a corn field. I think they saw "Children of the Corn" one too many times, but I managed to kill them and rescue you. However, I didn't escape unharmed." She motioned to her face and arms. "Where is here?" Mulder asked after a few seconds. "Springston, Ohio." He mulled this information over, but still looked disoriented. "What day is it?" "The 25th...of March." The last day Mulder remembered was the 21st, he had no recollection at all of the four days after it. Scully was surprised how quickly she forgot the events that had just happened to her. Right now, all she saw was her partner and he needed help. Garret was nowhere to be found in his anxiety filled eyes. He smiled up at her and whispered, "Thank you for saving my life again." She smiled at him and held his hand. He gave her a gentle squeeze in return. "You're welcome," she said, gently letting go of his hand and checking the IV needle. It was put in over a scar that appeared to be from another needle. Where had he been for the past two days? Epilogue New York City March 28 1:00 PM Alana sat in the room. Her grandfather would be coming soon and he would not be happy. It was a shame that Mulder had killed the clone. They really could use a double sometimes. However, it did prove that the cloning worked. "In one way, it was a complete success," Alana said in her own defense, as her grandfather stepped into the room. She took out another cigarette. "Yes, but this only brought them closer together. She trusts him now more than ever. Months of planning, ruined!" the well manicured man said. He sighed and turned towards the window, "Perhaps this was a good lesson for you to learn. You'll think twice before getting physically involved with someone you're supposed to be watching." She nodded slightly, very ashamed. "How did you know?" "We know everything." She took another deep drag of her cigarette and tried to calm down. "I know, Grandfather, and I am sorry I failed. However, the clone theory was tested, it works perfectly," "It would have been nice to kill two birds with one stone." "Yes, but I have a meeting with the Secretary of Defense in a few days." "Production will be able to start soon?" the well manicured man asked interested. "As soon as I get the cells," "That will redeem you in my mind. I will see you when production begins." Alana nodded and left the room. She hated Mulder, and never understood why so much time and energy was wasted on him. There were much bigger fish to fry. Washington, DC FBI Headquarters April 2 Most of the bruises had healed. Scully's arm was still in a cast and sling, she hated the lack of movement. She had insisted on performing the autopsy of Robert Garret herself. However, they turned down her request because of the broken arm. It didn't matter anyway, the body disappeared from the morgue before anyone could examine it. Traces of an unknown drug were found in Mulder's blood and he still had no memory of what happened before he appeared in Ohio. She supposed it would eventually all come back to him. Things were back to normal, though. The NYC police had been informed of Garret's death. They were satisfied, but Scully still had many unanswered questions concerning the case. When asked, Skinner denied his entire story and there was no record of a Robert Garret anywhere in any file. Scully sighed and looked over the file she had just finished. Kara Soren's death was ruled a suicide, and she could find no evidence to counteract that ruling. Mulder had gone up to see Skinner, and she knew that he would be coming downstairs with another case in tow. This was her first day back at work after the incident and her arm was feeling a lot better. All she had to do was make sure that Mulder would never find out what really happened in Ohio or about the double. She felt guilty about that. She thought she knew Mulder better then to be tricked so easily by the double. She had worked with him for years. She should have known that wasn't him. However, she had been plagued by nightmares of the ordeal ever since arriving back in Washington. She thought it might be her conscience urging her to tell him the truth. That, however, was one horror she would not face. Mulder blamed himself for enough things. The last thing he needed was more guilt, or to hear there might be more than one of him out there. Scully closed Kara Soren's file and stood up. She placed it in the filing cabinet under Paranormal Death and slammed the drawer shut. END Author's Note: Sometimes when you write something and then look at it later you realize that it's lacking some internal logic. For this reason I have gone back over this story and taken out things that don't make sense and revised it. Since this was written before Never Again, Scully's got a desk. Huge thanks go out to the tireless efforts of editors my Mom and Chase who helped me through some really rough scenes, without whom this story would have never been completed. Foxzphile who I hammered out the last few scenes with during one wild phone call a few years ago. Also to Flux for her hints and information about NYC that really helped with this rewrite. Plus my recent beta readers, Sue, Anna...thank you so much :) I have to stress that this was written before Small Potatoes and Demons. Thanks for reading this far, if you liked it please send feedback at FirePhile@aol.com