Title:  A Matter of Faith (1 of ?)

Author:  Xenith 

E-Mail:  xenitha@yahoo.com 

Disclaimer: The X-files belong to Chris Carter and
1013 Productions, not me. I'm only borrowing the
characters for now.  I'll put them back when I'm done.

Rating: G (for now)

Category: XA

Keywords:  Muldertorture, Angst

Spoilers: X-Cops, Hollywood A.D. (tiny)

Archive: Sure!  Just tell me!

Feedback: Love it! Love it!

E-Mail address: xenitha@yahoo.com

Webpages:
http://members.xoom.com/Xenith0/abattoir.html
http://members.xoom.com/merlin717/authors/xenith/xenith.htm

Discussion List:  Yes!!! Yes!!!

Summary: Mulder and Scully investigate a series of
murders in a small Oregon community and find that
sometimes being believed is the most important thing
of all...


Author's Note:  First, this story will post as a WIP
to make darned sure I finish and post it.  Believe it
or not, I take my posting schedule very very
seriously. I post Sundays/Wednesdays and Fridays come
Hell or computer breakdowns.  Apparently, if not under
deadline I don't write.  So...I'm on deadline :)  And
I ALWAYS finish my stories.

Second: Details of this story are taken from life. 
The foundation for this X File stems from my own
experiences as a deputy district attorney in a small
California community which shall remain nameless.  I
didn't investigate deaths, but the attacks described
are as I remember them, as are some of the cases
Jovovich handles.  I am not as difficult a person as
Jovovich, (God, I hope not!) but I have my moments.  I
have no opinion on the reality of Scully's haircolor,
but I know that Gillian's is dyed.


A Matter of Faith



Hoover Building
October 5, 2000

Dana Scully arrived at the basement office to find
Mulder hunched over his coffee mug, sipping gloomily.

"You saw the program last night, huh?" she said as she
hung up her coat.

"They made me look like a complete, freakin' idiot. 
Spooky Mulder, out running down werewolves in the dark
Los Angeles night.  Just another wacko."  He took
another sip.

"Well, it's just a show.  Nobody takes it all that
seriously," Scully replied soothingly as she pried the
top off her own coffee.  "It'll all blow over. 
Besides, we're used to this kind of reaction with the
kind of cases we handle."

"Yeah.  Nobody ever listens," Mulder eyed Scully
speculatively.  "You looked pretty good, when the
camera managed to catch you.  What's the matter?
Camera shy? This could be your big break! Hollywood!"

"Huh.  With our luck some producer will decide to
write a movie about our adventures.  Better to keep
low key.  We don't need that kind of trouble." 

They both drank their coffee in silence for a moment,
till Mulder cleared his throat.

"I..uh..noticed something else in the film. 
Um..Scully?"  At his tone, Scully looked up and found
him staring at her mournfully.

"Scully, are you ashamed of me?  I mean, do I
embarrass you?  You seemed to be trying to keep me
away from the cameras.  I mean, I know that people
don't believe what I say most of the time, but you've
never seemed, well,  so mortified by me."

"Mulder...I...no, I'm not embarrassed by you.  How
could I be?  I've been your partner for 7 years,"
Scully scrambled frantically for a way to phrase it.
"Your ideas are just not..uh..universally accepted and
I was trying to..um..enhance your credibility...um.."

"You were trying to keep me from trashing what
little's left of my career on national television, is
that it?" Mulder stated flatly.  "Scully, you looked
like somebody who'd just discovered drunk Uncle Ed at
the family dinner and was attempting to hide him
before the neighbors found out."  He sighed.  "Look, I
know you don't believe me most of the time but I
appreciate your attempts to go along with me.  I
just...don't want to be an embarrassment to you.  My
career is toast, but that doesn't mean I want to hurt
yours any more than I have, Scully."  Mulder stood up
and crumpled his paper cup into a tight ball.

"I think I'll take a walk," he said and shot the cup
into the corner wastebasket.

"Mulder, I didn't mean...I never said.."Scully spoke
to the door as it closed.

Mulder walked along the Mall deep in thought.  He knew
what she was trying to say.  She never had bought into
his ideas.  At most, she had only ever grudgingly
accepted them when presented with the irrefutable
evidence of hard science.  He shook his head.  Seven
years and she still couldn't find it in herself to
just have faith in him.

He wrapped his arms against the biting wind.  Forgot
the trenchcoat.  Oh well, he didn't feel much like
comfort just now.  

Of course he embarrassed her.  He did it regularly,
just as he mortified his superiors with his wild
theories, the more so when they were proven right. 
How many people could he have saved if they had just
believed him sooner?  He thought back to that night in
Los Angeles.  Maybe that Coroner's Assistant could
have been saved?  

He kicked at the grass.  How many times had he felt
like a prophet shouting at the wind?  Kersh had been
so surprised when the Consortium members were
incinerated.  Mulder had known, but nobody would
listen.  Nobody ever listened.  Or saw him.  He was
just Spooky Mulder, the office crackpot.

"Hey, G-Man?" A breathless voice at his elbow piped
up.  He looked down at a tousled Scully, with a black
trenchcoat draped over her arm.  "Thought you might
need this.  I've got our tickets and our next case. 
They have some mysterious deaths they want
investigated in Wilsonville, Oregon.  You comin'?"

Mulder forced his face into a smile as he shrugged on
the coat.  "Yeah, I guess so."

October 6, 2000
Snooz Inn
Barrington, Oregon

10:00 a.m.

"You booked this, Scully?"

Mulder eyed the rattletrap motel with an amused
expression.

"The rooms are within the departmental guidelines and
it advertised itself as having 'cozy charm'," Scully
glanced irritably at the neighboring wrecking yard and
the 7-11 store across the way.

"Well, we're here now.  We might as well go in,"
Mulder let his face break into a grin as he opened his
motel room door. "Well, the room is clean and I've
seen worse pictures on the walls.  You done good,
Scully...."

His comment was interrupted by the noisy sound of jet
engines, or on second thought, Mulder considered that
it was merely a couple of Harley's sans mufflers.  He
looked down over the railing to see a pair of leather
clad bikers move in downstairs.  Hmmm. Interesting
neighborhood.  When he looked up again, Scully had
slipped into her room.

October 6, 2000
2 p.m.

"This looks like the courtroom they said she be in.  I
understand that Ms. Jovovich is a Deputy District
Attorney in the Juvenile division."  Scully gently
opened one of the double wooden doors and led Mulder
in.

Court was in session.  The courtroom was empty but for
a sullen looking youth on a witness stand, a judge,
baliff, court clerk and two attorneys.

A woman in a brown suit and sensible shoes stood
before the bench, arguing vehemently.

"Your honor, I understand how the sanctity and unity
of the family is important both to you and at law, but
the evidence shows that if that little girl isn't
removed from this household, her fourteen year old
brother will certainly molest her again."

The judge, looking irritated, leaned forward. 
"Counsel, I appreciate your concerns, but the fact is
that you have no case.  The girl in question is four
years old and too young to testify.  You know I don't
allow children under five on the stand.  There is no
conclusive physical evidence of molest, and the
statements the child made to the babysitter are
inadmissible hearsay.  The few allegations you make
are not enough to justify breaking up this family,
either by removing the boy to foster care or by
removing his little sister.  My judgment stands."

"But your honor!  Doesn't she have a right to personal
safety?  You and I both know that it happened and that
she'll be attacked again if she goes back."

"Marisa, I've made my decision.  If you argue further,
I'll find you in contempt.  Accept it."

The woman stood silently as the judge left, but her
shoulders sagged. She turned and Mulder could see the
hidden rage as she walked toward the counsel table. 
He estimated her height at about five and a half feet,
age about 38,  heavy set and determined.  And mad.
Very very mad.

"Excuse me, Marisa Jovovich?" Scully came forward and
brought out her badge. "I'm Agent Scully and this is
Agent Mulder from the FBI.  We understand that you
were involved in the Harris case."

Jovovich looked up under heavy brows.  "What do you
want with the Harris case?  I've already been told
that it isn't healthy for my career to pursue it any
further."  She stood up and folded her arms across a
broad bosom.  "Unless somebody put you up to this."

"No, you don't understand.  The case was referred to
us because of its unusual qualities,"  Mulder broke
in, using his most soothing tone. "I understand that
five bodies have been found in Platte Park, dead of
unknown causes."

"Yeah.  They're dead, but I'm told by the 'experts'
that this doesn't make it either murder or some kind
of public health risk.  Nope, they're just gay men
with no 'families'.  People of no importance to
society.  It's okay if they die....Or so I'm told." 
She gathered up a stack of file folders and pushed
between Mulder and Scully.

"You want to know any more?  Just read the case files.
 My notes say it all.  But you're just high-rent,
Ivy-leaguers imported to whitewash this thing, aren't
you?  I've seen your kind before."  With that, she
stomped out of the courtroom, leaving the agents
speechless in her wake.

October 7, 2000
Barrington County District Attorney's Office
3:00 p.m.

"I can't believe that you found no cause of death in
those bodies, Agent Scully," Jovovich said accusingly
at Scully.  Mulder, on the outskirts of the blast,
still felt its heat.

Scully folded her arms defensively.  "I autopsied all
five and found no disease process that would explain
the deaths, no injuries or other traumatic causes."

"And you 're going to just stop there?  That's the
sign of sloppy work, Agent.  Those men were killed, as
sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, and if you can't
see that then you're integrity is as fake as the color
of your hair.  Somebody killed them.  There's been a
lot of resentment simmering in this town against these
men for a long time.  Last year some juveniles were
beating up gay men and mugging them in that same park.
 I tried to persuade the victims to testify in court
but they refused," her round face took on a regretful
expression.  "One man explained to me that he couldn't
afford to move to a better neighborhood and knew that
the cops wouldn't protect him if he caused trouble and
made the kid go for him again.  He just hoped to wait
it out.  Under the circumstances, I couldn't blame
him.  I certainly couldn't protect him."  She glared
at Scully and folded her arms across her bosom.  "So,
what are you fibbies gonna do about it?"

Scully could feel her back rise.  "Why, what we can of
course.  But have you considered the very real
possibility that these deaths may be the result of
some hitherto unknown disease process?"

Jovovich just glared at Scully.  "Yeah, they're gay so
they must have AIDS or some other loathesome disease,
huh?  Stop writing them off.  I heard that you two
were professional and that you don't give up.  Was I
wrong?"

"No, no you weren't wrong," Mulder said soothingly as
he grabbed a protesting Scully's arm.  "We'll review
the file and check in with you after we follow up some
leads.  C'mon, Scully."

After he and Scully were outside the building in the
bright sunlight, Scully let go.

"Mulder, she just accused me of homophobia!  She as
much as said that I'm a bigot!"  Scully paused.  "And
my haircolor is real!"

"Scully, you certainly are not prejudiced against gay
people but you do have certain...uh...patterns of
thought that...."

"That what, Mulder?" She just looked at him.

"Well, we've been on the X files for what, 7 years,
and you still have trouble wrapping your mind around
some of the extreme possibilities we've run into.  At
this point, Jovovich's assertion that these men were
murdered is at least as possible as disease, wouldn't
you say?"

"Mulder, it makes no sense!  It...Oh, I don't know why
I try." Scully stomped off to the Ford Taurus and
plunked herself into the passenger seat. 


October 7
Tico's Tacos
7:30 p.m.

"Mulder, I don't know why you believe in that woman. 
She's arrogant, mouthy and has no respect for
authority.  She's managed to alienate every lawyer
who's ever worked with her." Scully studied a lock of
hair then frowned up at her partner who was busily
trying to eat a burrito without spilling on his tie.

"Scully, the fact remains that she's right.  There's
something going on here and it deserves investigation.
 No matter what you think of her personality, she
cared enough about the issues  involved to call us in.
 Yeah, I know she yelled at us in the courtroom, but
that was for the benefit of the witnesses.  She asked
an old friend at the Bureau to call us in, that's how
we got the 302.  Her stand on the case didn't win her
any friends."  Mulder ate the last bite of his burrito
and wiped taco sauce off his chin.

"She didn't have any to begin with.....Well, she's
still difficult to get along with.  I don't like being
told that my investigation is sloppy." Scully stabbed
her plastic fork at her taco salad.

"Even if it was?  You have to admit that Marisa
Jovovich has a point.  Now, wait...let me finish.."
Mulder held up a hand against Scully's defensive
protest.  "In the past three months, the bodies of
five homosexual men have been found in Platte Park,
dead of unknown causes.  None of these individuals was
ill, nor did they exhibit any signs or symptoms of
trauma.  They just...died.  Local cops dismissed it,
refused to investigate it because these were gay men,
after all, living in a gay neighborhood.  This Deputy
District Attorney, as unpleasant as you find her, was
the only one who believed strongly that this deserved
official action."

"And you're saying she was right when she said that my
conclusions were without foundation?" Scully glared at
Mulder.

"You said that you could find no reason for these men
to have died and dismissed any suggestion that their
deaths were intentional.  She feels that this hasn't
been ruled out and should be investigated.  I know
that you two had an argument about it just before you
autopsied that last victim."

"And I won't give her the satisfaction of agreeing
with her ridiculous conclusions.  There has to be some
natural disease factor at work here.  There's just no
evidence of anything else."

"Scully, I agree with her.  We haven't completely
ruled out an intentional act.  We haven't established
any cause of death yet at all."

"Mulder, you can't say that you believe what
that...that...overbearing, mouthy..."  Scully fumbled
for words.

"If I'd said them, what would your reaction have
been?" Mulder asked mildly.

Scully was silent, refusing to answer the obvious
truth.  She sighed.  Over the years she had worked
with many law enforcement professionals but on meeting
this woman, Scully had immediately felt...well,
intimidated.  Jovovich was almost as broad as she was
tall, built stocky.  In the dark wool suits and low
shoes she wore, her booming voice gave her the
presence of an express train.  When she shook
Jovovich's hand, Scully suddenly remembered just how
small her own body was and how fragile her bones in
that woman's grip.

She looked up to find Mulder staring into space, that
wistful look back in his eyes.  Then his gaze found
hers and his eyes warmed.  "Why don't we look over the
files again," he said.

Title:  A Matter of Faith (2 of ?)
Author:  Xenith 


Chapter 2

October 8, 2000
1:13 a.m.

"Mulder, there's just nothing here," Scully tucked a
strand of hair behind her ear and peered over her
glasses at Mulder.

He'd given up on his contact lenses hours ago as well,
but his glasses were firmly planted on the bridge of
his nose.  "There's something here, we just can't see
it.  There's something...."

Scully yawned.  "Well, I don't know about you but all
I can see is bed right now.  I'm calling it a day."

Mulder grinned.  "Care for company, Agent Scully?"

She rolled her eyes.  "Make that my bed...alone. 
G'night, Mulder."  She shambled over to the connecting
door and closed it quietly after her.

Mulder watched her go with a sigh, then pulled his
glasses off.  She never listened, did she?  He'd said
it a hundred different ways, in a dozen situations. 
His suggestive looks and comments were only taken as
jokes, just Mulder being Mulder.  He supposed that he
hadn't given her any reason to think differently.

He stood up and stretched, hearing the joints pop. 
Well, he was only Spooky Mulder, after all.  Maybe
that prophetess, who was she...oh yeah, Cassandra, had
something catching.  Nobody ever believed her either. 
She might as well have been invisible for all the
notice the citizens of Troy had taken of her warnings.

Mulder wandered over to the window and stared out at
the starlit sky.  He could empathize with her problem.
 He'd been shouting for years about the dangers that
normal people only had nightmares about.  And the only
reason that they stayed in the realm of nightmare was
because of he and Scully.  And after all of
that...mothmen, Jersey devils, robotic cockroaches,
self-aware computer programs, demons....she still
couldn't take him seriously.  Not professionally,
not...personally.

He quietly walked over to the connecting door and laid
his hand flat against the panel, leaning his forehead
against it.


October 8, 2000
Barrington County Courthouse
10:13 a.m.

Mulder found Jovovich sitting on a cement bench in
front of the courthouse, drinking a styrofoam cup of
coffee.  He sat down next to her.

"Penny for your thoughts," he said.

"They're worth at least a quarter," she said, slurping
her coffee.  "Inflation, you know."  She looked
around.  "So, where's your shadow?"

"If you mean my partner, Agent Scully is parking the
car.  Are you always this antagonistic towards
people?"

"No.  Only when they're dressed better than me,
educated better and are on a faster career track. 
You?"

Mulder snorted. "I don't know about the faster career
track.  Mine is fairly stagnant.  You seem to have a
habit of saying exactly what's on your mind.  I've
found that this quality tends to limit one's career
options."

"You said it.  And yeah, I have no tact.  I tend to
tell the truth.  That can be a problem around here." 
She took another sip and eyed Mulder.  "If you don't
mind my saying so, you don't look like the wild-eyed
geek I was expecting.  You look fairly...normal."

"Thanks.  I think.  Just what were you expecting?  We
know that you requested us on this case."

"From you two? I thought I'd get some guy that looks
like Kolchak, the night stalker...kinda wild-eyed.  So
you know I asked for you.  Do you know why?  You two
get things done.  You don't give up and you find out
the truth.  I want the truth to come out; the truth
that I can't bring to light."

"And what truth do you think that is?"  Mulder's tone
was soft.

She laughed.  "That's why you're here.  I know I
haven't been very helpful so far, but you have to
realize that you'll get nothing but antagonism from
local law enforcement.  Or worse, you'll get apathy. 
I wanted to be sure that you would stick with it."

"This matters a lot to you," said Mulder.

She took a final sip of her coffee, then grimaced at
the grounds.  "Yes, it matters.  Do you know what case
I tried yesterday?  A mother with three young
daughters was brought to this country from India by
her husband.  When he gets the family here, he
abandons them.  Mom, knowing nothing else, goes to
live with a male relative who soon demands favors from
the mother in exchange for a roof over their heads. 
Then he tires of her and demands, and gets, sex with
the oldest daughter.  Threatens to pitch the whole
family onto the street if they don't comply.  So the
mother forces, *forces* mind you, this 13 year old
girl to have sex with a 56 year old man.  After she
tells her school counselor, all hell breaks loose and
the girls are removed from the home."

"What happened then?"

"The man threw mom out, and soon mom had persuaded the
girl to recant her story so that they could all move
back in.  I spent two hours yesterday trying to get
her to change her mind about testifying.  The girl
just sat and stared at me, then told me she had been
mistaken.  She misunderstood the counselor, it never
happened.  She's only 13 and as far as she knows, her
family is homeless and it's her fault.  The
dispositional hearing is today and I'm going forward
whether this girl wants it or not.  I'm getting her
out of there, but I foster care isn't much of an
option for her.  She's lost her family, what little
home she had."   She sighed and crumpled the coffee
cup.  "I just hope the judge listens today.  They just
never listen.  You tell them and tell them and it's so
very clear, but they never listen, do they?"

Mulder was silent a moment, then nodded.  "No, they
never do."

They both heard the tap of heels as Scully came
trotting up.  "So there you are," she said abruptly. 
"Ms. Jovovich, both Mulder and I looked over those
files exhaustively last night and found no evidence of
foul play.  I think you should plan on closing them
now; there's nothing there."

Jovovich stood, her shoulders squaring.  "You're just
giving up?"

"It isn't a question of giving up.." Scully began,
then Mulder's voice cut in.

"Yes it is giving up.  There's more to it, Scully.  We
just haven't found it yet."

Scully cast her partner an irritated look.  "And on
what factual basis do you make that assertion,
Mulder?"

"I just have a feeling.  There is something more. 
This is too much of a coincidence." Mulder's voice was
low and almost pleading.

Scully caught the look and almost gave in, then she
saw the determined set to Jovovich's face.  "This
isn't a murder case," she stated baldly.  "At most
these men died of some unidentified bug; which makes
it a Health Department issue, not FBI.  And all the
wishful thinking in the world won't turn it into
something more than it is."

Scully watched expectantly while Mulder did a slow
boil.  "You've respected my intuitions before, Scully.
 Heck, it's saved our lives more than once.  Why not
trust me now?"

Scully shook her head slowly.  "Not this time, Mulder.
 You're just wrong, here.  Yes, five gay men have died
and it's a very sad thing.  But don't make it into a
crime when there's no evidence for it.  Each man died
of unidentified causes, three in their own homes! 
There was no sign of violence on any of the bodies. 
Mulder---be reasonable."

Mulder stared at her, his look unreadable.  "I'm
always reasonable.  I always listen to your theories
and give you the respect that your professionalism is
due.  Isn't it time that you extended that same
respect to me?"

They stood eye to eye for a long breath until Jovovich
cleared her throat.  "Uh..if I might suggest...several
of the deceased had been attacked by a gang of
juveniles preying on their neighborhood.  They weren't
the only ones attacked.  Some of the other victims
would probably be amenable to interview....if you went
out and spoke to them."

Without breaking her gaze into Mulder's eyes, Scully
said softly, "Why don't I go and talk to them?  I
mean...by myself."  She took a breath.  "Mulder, I
understand that two of the juveniles are in
custody..."

"Yeah, I'll interview them,"  Mulder ran a hand across
his eyes as he watched Scully walk away toward the
parking garage.  His shoulders sagged as he turned
toward Jovovich.  "Why don't we talk to these young
hoodlums, huh?"

October 8
11:00 a.m.
Wilsonville, Oregon

Scully grimly watched the roadsigns, looking for the
small community on the outskirts of Barrington.  

During the drive she'd been plagued by a looming sense
of guilt.  "I feel like I just kicked a puppy," she
muttered. "He looked like I'd just kicked him...or cut
out his heart."  She shook her head.   They'd argued
before, but she'd never seen Fox Mulder look
so..broken before.

She straightened in the car seat.  It was time that
Mulder faced facts, that the universe could only be
understood through the lens of science.  Failure to
take an objective view of their case would, at best,
leave them with something that couldn't be prosecuted.
 And at worst? She shuddered.  It could get them both
killed.

Why did those men die?  A new disease?  Possibly.  If
it were untraceable, it could become an epidemic.  But
this group was too small, too limited for that to be
likely.  Murder?  She didn't think so.  Oh well, she'd
just go along with it until Mulder gave up, then they
could both go back to Washington and real life.

She found the first address on her list and parked. 
It was a small white cottage with a neatly pruned
yard.  Roses and hydrangeas.

Her knock was answered immediately by an old woman
with iron gray hair and sharp black eyes.  

"Hello, ma'am.  I'm looking for Christopher Armanini? 
I'm Special Agent Dana Scully," she flashed her badge
and looked around.

"That's my grandson.  What you want with him?  He's a
good boy, even if he does hang out with those good for
nothings from the neighborhood," the woman opened the
screen door and let Scully in.

Scully was immediately struck by the odor of incense
and candlewax.  It smelled like the inside of a church
and she could soon tell why.  The walls were covered
with religious pictures, many of them with devotional
candles lit below them.  She recognized many of them:
the Sacred Heart, the Virgin of Guadalupe, the Black
Virgin.

"You recognize my saints?  In this evil world, faith
is the only protection.  But I see you're a believer,"
the old woman pointed to Scully's cross. "You look
like a good Catholic girl.  You Catholic?" The woman
peered at Scully from under deep-set brows, her eyes
bright and sparkling.

Before she could deflect the question, Scully found
herself responding. "Yes, I am Catholic."

"Good.  Good.  I'll call my grandson.  He should meet
more Catholic girls.  Chris!  Chris, come here! " She
called out the back door, then returned to Scully. 
"You can call me Mama Rosa.  Everybody else does."

A young man in his twenties came in the back door,
wiping sweat off his forehead.  "I got the back yard
mowed, Mama Rosa...oh."  He stopped in mid-stride when
he saw Scully.  "I didn't know we had visitors."

"I'm Agent Dana Scully with the FBI. I'm here to ask
you some questions about the attack on you two weeks
ago?"

The young man suddenly got a frightened look on his
face.  He glanced at his grandmother, then at Scully. 
"Why don't we go outside.  I don't want to upset Mama
Rosa."

He almost pushed Scully out the front door and led her
onto the driveway, out of earshot of the house.

"What did you tell her?" he demanded in a low voice.

"What do you mean?  I identified myself and asked for
you," Scully said in a puzzled voice.  "What do you
think I told her?"

"About the attack.  Did you tell her that only gay men
have been attacked by the gangs?" At Scully's look he
stopped and took a breath.  "Look, I'm out to
everybody but Mama Rosa.  She's 87 years old and it'd
kill her if she knew I was gay.  She still thinks that
if she throws the right girl at me I'll get married
and have lots of bambinos."

"No, I didn't say anything about that.  I just want to
ask you some questions about the attacks in this
neighborhood," Scully kept her voice calm to avoid
upsetting him any further.

"Well, okay.  But don't tell Mama Rosa any of this.  I
was walking through the park, cutting through to get
to the bus stop, when I was jumped by about four
skin-heads.  They looked like teenagers, y'know,
skinny?  Anyway, they took my wallet and blacked both
my eyes before they ran away."

"Do you think this was a hate crime?  Did they say
anything?"

Chris gave her a twisted smile.  "Oh yeah, it was a
hate crime.  They told me to take the message back to
my faggot buddies that freakin' homos weren't welcome
here.  I think that qualifies as a hate crime."

Scully looked at him in sympathy.  "I understand that
there have been other attacks..."

"More than you know.  At least six of my friends have
been jumped.  The whole neighborhood is running
scared.  There are a lot of gays living around here. 
The rent is cheap and it was safe...until recently."
He shivered.  "And now, there are the deaths."

"Do you connect the deaths with the attacks?"

"Of course they're connected.  Every time I walk out
the front door, I feel like a target.  The guys who
died were all my friends.  Shit!  I had them over for
my birthday dinner a month and a half ago.  And now
they're gone..."  He stopped and bit his lip.  "The
cops..they won't investigate it.  They say there's no
evidence of foul play.  But they're wrong, or else
they're covering up.  My friends died because they
were murdered, Agent Scully."

Title:  A Matter of Faith (3 of ?)
Author:  Xenith 

Barrington County Juvenile Detention Facility
October 8,
11:00 a.m.

"Hello, Edward Parker? My name is Fox Mulder and I'd
like to ask you a few questions," Mulder smiled
pleasantly at the sullen teenager seated at the table.

"My name isn't Edward, it's Adolf," the boy said
shortly.  His dirty blonde hair had been cut so close
to his head that the remaining hair was only fuzz. 
Mulder noted swastikas crudely tattooed on both
forearms. At sixteen years of age, this boy had the
cynicism of a forty year old man.

"Adolf.  That's an interesting name.  Your parents
choose it?" he asked mildly.

The boy eyed Mulder closely.  "I don't have to talk to
no Jew, either."

"No, you don't have to talk to me.  But you should
know that some of the people you attacked in the park
have died and there's reason to believe that you might
be blamed for it.  The last murder happened before
they caught you on that probation violation."

The boy was silent, then  leaned back in his chair. 
"I don't care if a buncha faggot queers get offed but
you got no proof I had anything to do with it.  I'm
only here now 'cause that jerk-off teacher saw my
knife."

"So, why do you like to be known as Adolf?"  Mulder
leaned back in his own chair.

"He's the *man*, the one who knew about all you
people, that's why.  Purity of the race is where it's
at."

"How can you be sure that some of your friends weren't
out there doing some 'purifying' of their own? You
could still be an accessory if you knew about it."

The boy just smiled and said nothing, leaning his
chair back against the wall, arms folded over his
chest.  Mulder waited for a response, then closed his
file folder and left.  Second strike-out.  The other
boy wouldn't talk either.

He made his way to the parking lot and began fishing
for his rental car key, when he felt a blow from
behind pushing him into the side of a battered pickup
truck.

A male voice from behind him growled, "Hey, you
talkin' to my kid?  What do you want with him?"

"Which kid would that be?  Do you mind?  You're
wrinkling the suit," Mulder could dimly tell that the
man was not alone.  At least two others were standing
next to him.

"You know which kid.  I know what you want him for;
those damn faggots who died.  Well, if you value your
health, you'll just leave us alone.  Unnerstand?" 
Mulder's face was forcibly shoved against the metal of
the truck.  He heard a harsh laugh, then felt the blow
as something hard and metallic was brought down
against the back of his head.

Pistol whipped, he thought to himself as reality faded
out.  Well, at least he hasn't shot me yet....

Barrington County General Hospital
3 pm

Mulder's nose woke up first.  Smell of crisply
laundered sheets and disinfectant. Then he heard a
muted clatter and the soft breathing of somebody
sitting nearby.  Damn.  Not another hospital. And oh
yes, pounding headache.

"Hi, Scully.  Been here long?" he asked without
opening his eyes.

"Mulder.  How ya feeling?"

Mulder opened his eyes to the usual Scullysmile.  The
light was bright and he closed his eyes against it. 
"Did they get the number of the truck that hit me?"

"If you mean, was your assailant arrested, no.  The
local police said that they found you lying in the
parking lot unconscious.  No witnesses."  She paused
and he could hear repressed anger in her voice.  "You
were assaulted in the police department parking lot,
at noon on a work day and NOBODY saw anything."

Mulder winced against her ringing tones. "And your
point is?"

"Mulder, they could as easily have killed you out
there and nobody would have lifted a finger to save
you.  This whole thing smells."

Mulder smiled, his eyes still closed.  "So, you're
catching the fugitive whiffs I've been scenting, huh? 
I met up with the father of one of those juveniles. 
It seems that Dad objects to my interviewing young
Adolf."

"Adolf?  Skinhead?"

"Oh yeah.  And as Aryan as they come.  Dad is probably
a sympathizer as well."

"Do we have enough to arrest on?" Scully leaned
forward and put a hand on Mulder's forehead.  "Mulder,
are you feeling okay? Is the light bothering you?"

Mulder pried his eyelids open and suppressed a smile
at her soft tones.  "No, I'm okay.  Just another
concussion.  But no, I don't think we can arrest.  I
don't know for sure which parent hit me, and there's
no evidence tying them to the deaths.  Just a lot of
ill-will."  He frowned and looked out the window. 
"This whole thing just doesn't feel right somehow." 
He took a breath.  "Scully, if I told you I had a bad
feeling about all this what would you say?"

"What kind of a bad feeling?" she asked.

"Like something is looming over us, something
watching.  I feel...like a fieldmouse when the hawk is
overhead.  There's something out there, and it isn't
skinheads.  Scully, do you believe in evil?"  The look
Mulder gave her was slightly embarrassed.

"What, you mean the existence of evil, as in the
devil?  My faith tells me that a devil exists.  My
experience says that men can do evil things, but
whether evil spirits or souls act within men's
lives....well, I find it hard to believe.    Men
create enough evil themselves without needing
supernatural help."  She gave Mulder a look of mixed
curiosity and worry. "You aren't suggesting that we're
dealing with evil spirits here, are you?"

Mulder's expression was unreadable.  "I just feel that
we have seen only the tip of the iceberg.  There's
something more at work here than what we've seen."

Scully abruptly realized that her hand was still
resting on Mulder's forehead and quickly removed it. 
"Uh...maybe we should get some backup on this one.  If
local law enforcement won't watch our backs, it could
get dangerous.  Skinner'd back us up."

Mulder sighed.  "If we do that, we open a political
can of worms, Scully.  We don't have any solid
evidence that the locals are bad, and our going over
their heads will bend some noses out of shape.  I
don't think we can do it just yet without a shit-storm
of politics."

"Mulder, they could have killed you," Scully said very
slowly and carefully.

"They didn't.  I say we gather more evidence," Mulder
returned her stare evenly.

Reluctantly, she nodded.  "Okay.  For now.  But if
there are any more incidents, we go straight to
Skinner."

Mulder nodded.

October 8, 2000
7:00 p.m.

"Mulder, I don't see what you're trying to prove,"
Scully said as Mulder gingerly got into the rental car
and prepared to drive over to  Christopher's
Armanini's home.  "Besides, I already interviewed him.
 There's no need for you to go back over it again with
him.  At least let me go back instead."

"No, Scully, I'm okay.  He's thought of something he
wants to tell us and we need to check it out. 
Besides, under the circumstances, we probably should
stay together."

"All right.  But I'm driving," Scully said firmly and
glared until Mulder relinquished the driver's seat.

He was still looking pale as they approached the
Armanini household.  Christopher met them at the door.
"Agent Mulder, I'm so sorry that they're after you
now, too," he began when he was interrupted.

"Chris? Who you talking to out there?  Not more of
those no-goods from the neighborhood, are you?"

"Just some friends, Mama Anna!  I'll be right back." 
Christopher grabbed the agents' arms and led them
across the street to the park, where a dim figure
stood in the shadows.

"This is Lucas.  He wants to talk to you but he
doesn't want his name getting out."

"Yeah," said a soft voice.  "They know who you are and
your life is a misery.  I can't afford to move out of
town."

"What can you tell us, Lucas?" Scully asked softly. 
Lucas shuffled in the darkness, keeping his face
hidden.

"I saw Barry die, and...well, it was weird.  I had
been ..um..spending the evening with him when suddenly
I felt this...this presence.  It was dark and angry,
really angry.  The air felt like it was jello, like
you couldn't move very fast and it settled around
Barry and just stayed there.  Then he started
breathing fast but I couldn't get to him; I just
couldn't move. And, then suddenly I could move and I
could feel it looking for me.  So I ran.  I just ran
like hell and didn't stop till I was home."

"So what do you think killed Barry?" Mulder asked. 
"It doesn't sound like the local group of skinheads."

"I dunno.  They do play around with black magic, that
old Nazi stuff.  I know, I've seen 'em building
bonfires in the park.  The kids do it," Christopher
said, his voice solemn.

"But that doesn't mean that black magic killed those
men," interrupted Scully.

"Do you have a better explanation?" asked Mulder. 
"Besides, who can say that black magic isn't anything
more than a hatred so concentrated and focused that it
can kill?"

"Well, I doubt that concentrated love is going to
bring those men back to life," Scully said drily.

"Which reminds me," Mulder reached into his pocket and
pulled out three small amulets on chains.  Two were
shaped like outstretched hands.  Mulder handed one to
each of the men.

"Here, keep these on you.  They're charms against the
evil eye."

"The what?  Mulder, you can't be serious," exclaimed
Scully.

"I'm still not sure what's causing these deaths, but
it can't do any harm and might do some good." Mulder
grinned.  "I got one for you too, Scully."   He handed
her the third amulet.

Scully looked at the little charm in her hand and
grimaced.  Where the other two were hand-shaped, hers
looked like...like...

"Mulder, it's a penis."

"Yeah, they were all out of the hand ones.  Originally
I got the hand-shaped amulets for us and the penis for
Frohike, but since our friends need the other ones,
you get the leftover."

"Leaving you without protection, huh Mulder? Oh no, I
couldn't take it." She started to hand it to him when
they heard the sound.

It was a dry rustling, like the sound of a hundred
snakes crawling across dry leaves.  Mulder stilled,
the hissed at the two men,  "Get out of here, fast!"

Mulder drew his gun as the men ran.  Scully followed
suit, absently pocketing her amulet and faced into the
sound.

The noise increased and the air got thick, heavy with
menace.  Scully could almost swear that the air had
turned dark brown and liquid with anger.  The sound
focused on them and began to swirl around the agents.

Scully tried to move and found that she had to exert
her entire will to do so.  She heard Mulder make a low
sound and slowly, agonizingly turned toward him.  

As she watched, the wind closed in around him. She
could feel the eddies and currents of hatred circling
on him.  His eyes open in panic, Mulder soundlessly
began to crumple.  The gun fell from his hand, landing
silently on the dry leaves.

Mulder's chest began to heave as he struggled for air.
 Scully pushed her body towards his and followed him
down to the ground.

"M...Mulder," she gasped.  

He looked up at her, terror on his face and mouthed
words that she couldn't hear.  She felt the strength
of the blackness pulling at him and began to pray
silently, begging God to release him from this, this
thing that had him.

Suddenly she felt a pulling and then the air was
clear.  The heaviness was gone and she could move
again.  She gulped a deep breath and bent over Mulder.
 He was still breathing, pulse was steady but his eyes
were closed and his face pale.

"Mulder?  Mulder, wake up, it's gone.  Mulder?  Can
you hear me?"  

October 10, 2000
Barrington County General Hospital


"Agent Scully, I'm Dr. Potter," the tall woman walked
over to the couch where Scully was perched.

"How is he?  Is he awake?" she demanded anxiously.

"I'm afraid he hasn't regained consciousness.  We're
still doing tests.  There's some concern that the blow
to the head he had earlier may have been more serious
than was originally thought."

Scully shook her head.  "I don't think so.  He was
attacked...by something."

"Can you define that something, Agent Scully?  To be
truthful, we haven't found any physical cause for his
unconsciousness, but we're still testing."

"Can I see him?" Scully asked softly.

"Sure." The doctor led Scully to Mulder's bedside.

"Dammit, Mulder...why do you always do this?  You
ditch me one way or the other.." she muttered, looking
down at his still face.

*Hey, Scully.  I didn't ditch you.  At least, not on
purpose.  Hey, you listening?*  Mulder's face was
still, but Scully could have sworn she heard his voice
murmuring.

"Mulder?  Can you hear me?  Mulder?"  She bent over
him, her face close to his.

*Scully!  Hey, I'm in here.  I can hear you fine.  Can
you hear me?  Scully, I've got to tell you about what
happened! I think I know who's doing this.  Scully?*

Mulder's face was waxen still.  His chest still moved
and he was breathing on his own.  She could only hope
that they'd find the answer soon.  She stiffened.

And in the meantime, she fully intended to find out
just what had happened to Mulder in the park that
night.

Title:  A Matter of Faith (4 of ?)
Author:  Xenith 


Chapter 4

*Scully, can't you hear me?* Mulder followed her to
the corner of the room, then realized suddenly that he
had left his body behind on the bed.  He turned and
saw his own form lying quiet and still, connected to
his body by a thin silver cord.

*Out of the body experience,* he exulted.  *Wow! 
Scully'll never believe this.  Hey...Scully!*  Mulder
turned and ran to catch up with her.  She was standing
next to the doctor.

"If there's any change, can you call me immediately?"
Scully handed the doctor a business card. "You can
reach me on my cell phone."

"Of course, Agent Scully.  I'll let you know the test
results as soon as I have them."

"Thank you," Scully gave Mulder's room an anxious
look, then headed for the door.  Mulder followed
determinedly.

*Scully, I don't know why she didn't succeed in
killing me, but you have to listen.  It's that old
granny, Christopher Armanini's grandmother who's doing
this.  She's somehow managed to focus all her hatreds
and resentments into a killing force.  Scully? Can you
hear me?*

Scully had stopped and seemed to be listening, then
shook her head and continued toward the hospital exit.
 She ran into Marisa Jovovich as she walked down the
stairs.

"Agent Scully, is it true?  You two were attacked?" 

Scully stopped and folded her arms against her chest
defensively. This was the last person she'd hoped to
meet.  "Yes. Whatever it is that killed those men
attacked Agent Mulder.  He's in a coma and they're
still trying to determine its cause."

"That happens a lot, doesn't it?" Jovovich asked
Scully.  "I've read up on you.  Mulder always seems to
end up in the hospital on cases like this, and you
never get so much as a scratch.  You don't watch his
back very well, do you?"

"Ms. Jovovich, just what is it you want?" Scully asked
tiredly.  "Mulder is injured, yes.  And he does tend
to be accident prone, but your attacks on me don't
help the case any."

Jovovich looked down, then  met Scully's eyes.  "I
suppose you make me mad.  You have it all but you
don't realize it, do you?  I loved somebody once.  He
was smart, educated, respected me for my mind and my
soul.  And Agent Scully, he died before I could ever
tell him I was crazy about him.  A drunk driver plowed
him down while he was crossing the street.  Mark never
had a chance."  She shook her head.  "And to make it
worse, while you have your head up your ass, people
are dying out there.  I came here to tell you that we
just found the body of another victim.  Lucas Gordon
was found dead in his apartment shortly after Agent
Mulder was attacked."

Scully took a deep breath.  "Is the body still on
scene? Yes?  Let's go."

October 9, 2000
2 a.m.
19834 Harris St., Apartment 5

The forensics teams were finishing up when the women
arrived, although the body hadn't been removed by the
Coroner yet.

"Agent Scully, Marisa," a plainclothes detective
approached them.  "It looks like another death, but no
evidence of violence or struggle.  I'd guess that this
is some new gay disease or something like AIDS.  You
two are wasting your time, y'know."  He smirked at
Jovovich.  "But we know how strongly you feel about
this so-called case of yours."

"This so-called case of mine is a real case, Jim, and
don't you forget it."

While Jovovich spoke to the detective, Scully wandered
over to the body.  Lucas Gordon lay on his back on the
livingroom floor.  His body was unmarked, and showed
no signs of attack.  She saw his leather jacket thrown
over a chair where he'd discarded it.  She searched
through the pockets and found a wallet and Mulder's
silly amulet. 

Her hand went into her pocket where the miniature clay
penis still rested.  Mulder.  Was he still alive? 
Surely so, or the hospital would have called.  But why
hadn't he died when all the others had?

*Hey Scully, you notice that Lucas had taken off his
jacket and left the amulet across the room?  I bet
that's how she zapped him.  She got me because I was
the onlyh one in the group who wasn't holding one.* 
Mulder walked over to where Scully had removed the
amulet from her pocket and was eyeing it with
distaste.  *Scully, you have to listen to me this
time. I'm serious here.  You have to keep that amulet
on you or she might get you too.  Do you hear me? 
Scully!  Listen to me!*  

She continued to stare at the amulet then returned it
to her pocket.  She walked back to Jovovich.  "We need
to talk to Christopher Armanini.  He was the other
person present when Mulder was attacked.  I think I'll
interview him in the morning."

Jovovich nodded.  "I'll drop you off at your hotel."
Mulder followed the two of them, putting himself in
the back seat.

She couldn't hear him.  THEY couldn't hear him.  He
wasn't dead, was he?  He didn't think so.  All the
writers said that as long as the silver cord was
unsevered, life remained.  But he had to TELL her. 
She had no idea of the danger she was in.  Mulder
remembered the attack.

He'd been awash in hate.  Devastating, overwhelming
menace had driven him to his knees and pushed the
breath out of his chest.  He'd felt a terrible pain,as
though his soul were wrenched partially away from his
body, and he'd suddenly heard Scully's thoughts.  She
was praying for him while she was trying to find out
what was wrong.  Her love had felt strong and warm
against the cold wind pulling at him.  He'd grabbed it
and hung on for dear life until the  black wind ebbed.

Then the hospital.  He could hear her, see her but she
couldn't hear him.  He wasn't dead, but he wasn't
alive either.  Just...stuck...somewhere in between.

Mulder shivered as he contemplated his reality.  Did
this make him a sort of ghost?  He had to get through
to her somehow or the old woman would destroy her.

*Scully, you have to know!  The old woman is
dangerous!*  Mulder tried to put his hand on her
shoulder but she only shuddered as his fingers
travelled through her.  Scully reached forward and
turned up the car heater.

Damn.  Mulder leaned back, then decided to try another
tack.  *Marisa!  Hey, Marisa!  Listen to me!!*

Jovovich jerked and looked behind her, then looked
forward again.  She shivered.  Mulder tried again.
*Hey! LISTEN TO ME!  Marisa!*

"Did you hear something?" asked Jovovich. "I keep
hearing a sort of buzzing noise.  And it's cold in
here."

"It is cold, but I turned the heater up.  Buzzing
noise?  Yeah, I've heard something but it's probably
just the car."

*Damn.  DAMN.  Scully, you can hear me if you try.*
Mulder shouted at the top of his lungs. *Scully, will
you just LISTEN to me for once?*

"I hear...Mulder's voice..." Jovoich sounded
uncertain.  "I know this is crazy, but I just heard
him yelling."

Scully cast a quick look at Jovovich, then returned
her gaze to the road.  "Mulder's on both our minds
right now.  I know he's become a friend of yours. 
I...uh...understand what you were trying to say
before, about lost chances."

Jovovich met Scully's eyes in the mirror.  "Then you
know just what it is you're throwing away.  He's one
of the best investigators in the country."

"And he's stone blind," Scully muttered.  "I don't
know why I'm even telling you this.  Mulder only has
eyes for his quest for the truth.  Everything else
comes second to that, including personal life.  He
notices me only because I'm a good partner and
forensic pathologist.  I doubt he notices anything
else about me."

"You think so, huh?" Jovovich commented drily.  "He's
not the only one who's blind.  Sitting between you two
is like being in the middle of a live circuit.  When I
met you two it made me envious, and sad.  And yeah,
furious with you for letting it continue without
acting.  But it's your life." 

Mulder sat and listened.  Stone blind? Him?  He
thought back to the times Scully had quietly rejected
his hints and comments.  He'd tried to tell her so
many times, but she cut him off each time.  He loved
her so much it hurt sometimes, but he cherished every
moment he spent with her--even if it was mostly
attending autopsies and chasing mutants.  And he was
blind?  Well, if so then she was deaf.

*Scully, you have to listen!  You can hear me, I know
you can.  I've been trying to tell you how I feel
about you for years but you always cut me off.  You
won't let me talk to you about how much I care about
you.  You're scared.  I respect that; I am too.  But
Scully, we're just too good together to let this
pass.*

He could see her head turn to one side, as though she
were listening to something but she didn't turn.  They
stopped at the hotel and Scully exited the car, Mulder
following closely.

Scully leaned into the passenger window.  "I'll call
you after I talk to Christopher Armanini."  

Then she went upstairs to her hotel room, Mulder at
her heels.  

She closed the door and pulled off her shoes, then sat
down and opened her cell phone.  Mulder could only
hear Scully's side of the conversation.

"How is he?  No change?  Are the test results in? 
Okay, but you'll call me if you hear anything,
anything at all?  Thanks."  She sighed and closed the
phone, her eyes closing in pain.

She put the phone down and began to pull her clothes
off.

*Uh, Scully, I hope you don't mind if I hang around do
you?  I mean, I've seen you naked before but I
...um..oh boy..* Mulder found himself averting his
eyes as a nude Scully ran water in the hotel room tub
and added bath salts.  Wondering vaguely why he was
trying to be a gentleman when she could neither hear
nor see him, he perched on the toilet seat and kept up
the conversation with her as she slid under the
bubbles.

*Scully, I really really hope that this isn't a
permanent condition.  I like spending time with you,
but at least before when we talked you'd answer back
even if it was only to tell me I was full of shit.*

Scully leaned against the back of the tub and Mulder
could see tears trailing down her face.

*C'mon, Scully.  It's going to be all right.  One of
these mornings, tomorrow probably, I'll wake up and
we'll laugh about this later.  Except I probably won't
tell you I watched you in the bath; then you'd kill me
and it'd be permanent."

"Oh God, Mulder," she whispered, her eyes closed.
"Please, please wake up.  Please hold on until I can
solve this."

*Scully, I'm not going anywhere,* Mulder said
seriously.  *I know this is hard for you, but you have
to try to listen to me.  That old woman is doing this;
she's cursing people somehow, killing them with a
thought.  You have to be very very careful around her
tomorrow.*

Scully was silent, her eyes still closed and her
cheeks wet.  Mulder reached a fingertip out to a tear
but drew back when Scully shivered.  She sat up and
ran more hot water into the tub.  Mulder couldn't help
admiring the body only partly concealed by the
bubbles.  
 

Mulder watched her bathe, then felt a cold wind.  It
was back, the hatred, the evil.  He closed his eyes
and tried to endure.  It was strong and pulled at him,
grabbing at him.

*Scully!  Scully, help!* he cried out, reaching his
hand toward her.

Scully's eyes flew open and she looked around the
room.  "Mulder?" she whispered, then grabbed her towel
and ran out of the bathroom for her cell phone.

Mulder, unable to move fought against the wind.  He
could feel himself fading, diminishing.  The tugging
yanked at him and suddenly with a snap he found
himself back in his hospital room, standing next to
his convulsing body.

He stood by helplessly while nurses moved swiftly
around his body, administering drugs and speaking in
quick sentences.  The convulsions slowed and stopped. 
Mulder could feel his body weakening and watched
nervously while the doctor examined him.

Scully stalked into the room, her hair wet and
stringy.  "What's happened to him?" she demanded.

Dr. Potter looked up from Mulder's body.  "He had
convulsions, cause unknown.  All of his scans have
come back normal; we couldn't isolate a cause.  There
are no hemhorrages, no evidence of meningitis or
encephalitis, nothing clinically more than a mild
concussion."

Scully sat down in the chair at his bedside and put
one hand on his.  Mulder could feel the jolt of her
emotions when she touched him.  Love.   She loved him.
 She was worried about him, afraid he'd die and leave
her all alone. Energy flooded into him, warmth and
safety pouring from her body like a warm shower.  He
closed his eyes and drank it in.  But when he opened
them, he was still a ghost in the room.  Scully sat
beside his body, her eyes fixed on his face, one hand
stroking his hair.

*Scully, I never thought you felt that way.  Why
didn't you ever say so?* he whispered to her unseeing
face.

"Agent Scully, we're going to try another CAT scan,"
Dr. Potter said gently.  Scully looked up and nodded,
releasing Mulder's hand.

"I'll be in the waiting room," she said.

Mulder sat with her until the morning light began to
pour into the waiting room. Scully had curled up on
the couch and fallen asleep at last. Mulder wished
that he could sleep. He didn't want to think about all
the dangers that faced them.  But he swore to himself
that he'd follow her out to meet that old sorceress,
and protect her if he could.


Title:  A Matter of Faith (5 of ?)
Author:  Xenith 


Chapter 5

Mulder sat next to her on the couch and watched her
sleep, her chest gently rising and falling with her
breath.

"You don't know how frustrating this all is," he
began.  "It's bad enough being almost dead, but when
you've been ignored all your life it really hurts when
the one person who ever listened to
you...sometimes...can't sense your presence."  He
sighed and rested his chin in his hands.

"Did I ever tell you that I used to fantasize about
being invisible?  Only it wasn't really a fantasy. 
After Sam...well, my parents just didn't want to see
me somehow.  Mom left the room when I came in.  Dad
stopped calling me by name.  I was just 'him', or 'the
boy', as though I were a thing."  Mulder looked at
Scully's peaceful face and smiled at her.  "You don't
know how lucky you were to have a loving family.  I
suppose my parents still loved me, but it never really
felt that way."  

He got up and began to pace in front of the couch. 
"Oh, I tried to make up for losing Sam.  I got good
grades, excelled in sports, did everything I could to
make Mom and Dad love me."  He stopped and stared
bleakly at the sunrise through the window.  "It didn't
work."

He sat down again.  "I thought that when I got the
scholarship to Oxford, they'd be proud of me then, and
maybe they'd say something.  Dad pulled me to one side
and gave me a talk about not getting girls pregnant. 
Mom just cried."

"You've been the center of my life for so many years
now, Scully.  I just never knew how to tell you.  You
never let me tell you.  And if I get out of this...I
still don't know how I can.  Would you listen if I
tried?"

"I've been invisible all my life, trying to be heard,
to be seen.  Nobody sees, nobody listens.  I'm just
the mole who works in the basement of the Hoover
building.  And I've lost the last person who might
hear me."

He watched her eyes moving beneath her eyelids. 
"You're dreaming, aren't you?  What about?  Not me,
probably.  Or could you?  I wonder...."  Mulder sat
down next to her on the couch and gently rested one
hand on her shoulder, then closed his eyes.  Scully
shivered and snuggled deeper into the couch.



Scully found herself seated in the basement office of
the Hoover building, watching Mulder recline in his
desk chair.  That wasn't right somehow.  Mulder
was...Mulder was...

She remembered.  "You're in a coma!" she accused.

"Well, yeah I am.  And you're dreaming," he pointed
out calmly enough.  "I've been trying hard enough to
catch your attention.  Scully, you must be the
stubbornest woman on this planet."

"Trying to catch my attention?  How?  You've been
lying in that damned bed since the park."  She glared
at him, then went on.  "Okay, what is it you've been
trying to tell me, assuming I believe that you're
anything more than my own wishful thinking?"

He took his feet off the desk and leaned forward,
serious.  "Scully, I am not a figment of your own
wishful thinking. Ever since that old woman zapped me
I've been trapped outside my body, following you
around.  She's still trying to kill me, but I don't
know why."

"And what old woman would that be?" Scully asked.

"The grandmother.  Mama Rosa.  She's the source of
that wave of hatred that caught us.  She's somehow
been...ill-wishing...all those people to death.  When
she caught me in the park, I could feel the force of
her anger clawing at me."  He paused thoughtfully.  "I
just can't figure out why I'm still alive.  Scully,
you still have that amulet on you, don't you?"

"What? The one that looks like..."

"A penis. Yeah.  Do you still have it?"

"It's in my pocket, Mulder.  I've been so busy
investigating this case and trying to find a cure for
you I haven't had time to throw it away."  Scully
leaned back in her chair, then muttered to herself, "I
don't know why I'm even doing this.  I'm having an
argument with my imagination!"

"I am not your imagination, Scully.  You have to
listen to me....listen to me....listen..."



Scully woke to the smell of coffee just under her
nose.  She sat up to find Marisa Jovovich standing
next to the couch holding a fresh cup of Starbuck's
and a paper sack.

"I thought you might be here when I called your hotel
and you weren't there.  I got you some breakfast." 
Marisa handed her the sack and plunked down on the
couch next to Scully.  "How is he?  You look funny. 
Are you okay?"

Scully tried to hide her worried look.  "Just a weird
dream; it's nothing.  They haven't found anything
organically that could be causing his symptoms.  He
went into convulsions last night, but they had him
stabilized before I went to sleep." She sipped the
coffee, her eyes focusing on space.  "He's still
comatose."

"Then we need to track down those Nazi Satanists, or
whatever they are," said Jovovich decisively.  "Which
of the parents do you want to talk to first?"

Scully gave Jovovich a curious look.  "I thought D.A.s
aren't supposed to become witnesses in their own
cases?  You aren't supposed to do direct
investigation."

Jovovich grinned and shrugged.  "So sue me.  This one
is special, but you already figured that out.  And
they got Mulder. I want to know how they did that." 
Jovovich looked a little embarrassed.  "And I don't
like it when people hurt my friends.  Any of them." 
She paused then added, "If you don't feel comfortable
having a civilian along on the case I'll understand. 
You're the professional at what you do and I'll abide
by your ground-rules."

Scully snorted.  "That's more than Mulder usually
does.  Okay, I'd like to check on Mulder first, then
go back to the Armanini household and talk to
Christopher.  He may be able to help us focus on
specific skin-head groups locally."

October 9, 2000
11 a.m.
19822 Harris St. 
Armanini Home

Mama Rosa met them at the door with a tray of cookies.

"Well, hello Agent Scully.  It's so nice to see you
again.  You're just in time to try some of my
biscotti, fresh from the oven."  Mama Rosa ushered the
women into the living room and Scully noted Marisa's
reaction to the icons.  

"And you would be?" Mama Rosa asked Jovovich
pointedly.

"My name is Marisa Jovovich.  I'm the D.A. who's
prosecuting those assaults that happened in the park."

Mama Rosa's eyes narrowed and she exuded suppressed
rage.  "A terrible thing, all that violence so close
to home.  Those men attacked just across the street! 
I tell Christopher not to go to that terrible park,
but no, he still visits his friends there." She shook
her head.  "No good will come of it, you mark my
words."

"Agent Scully.  How is Agent Mulder?  Is he any
better?" Christopher entered the room, dressed in a
business suit.  He caught Scully's glance.  "I was on
my way to work when I heard you in the living room. 
But they can wait.  How can I help you?"

"My grandson, he's a C.P.A. and earns a very good
living," said Mama Rosa proudly, to Chris's obvious
chagrin.

Scully grinned at his embarrassment, then became
solemn.  "Chris, I need to follow up some of your
recollections of the attack...."

Mama Rosa picked up her tray as Chris sat down on the
couch next to Agent Scully, then motioned to Jovovich.
 "Why don't you help me in the kitchen, my dear?  I'm
getting old and creaky and welcome young hands to help
me."

Marisa gave Scully a helpless look, then followed Mama
Rosa into the kitchen.  Once there, Mama Rosa firmly
closed the kitchen door and motioned Marisa to the
kitchen sink  full of dishes.

"If you wash, I can dry," Mama Rosa said complacently,
handing Marisa a sponge.

"Uh..oh..okay," Marisa mumbled and began scrubbing. 
Mama Rosa dried a few plates, then looked to the side
and her eyes widened.

"You.  What are you doing here?" she demanded.

Mulder just glared at her.  

"I'm helping you with the dishes, don't you remember
Mama Rosa?  I can leave if you want me to," Marisa
said hopefully.

Without turning from Mulder, Mama Rosa replied, "No,
you might as well stay where you are, now that you're
here.  Of course, we both know that you will be moving
on soon."

"You're still trying to kill me.  Why?  What have I
ever done to you?" demanded Mulder, his eyes never
leaving Mama Rosa.

She picked up the towel and began drying more plates. 
"My grandson and I, we're the last of the family.  I'm
old and want to see my descendants, his children. 
Christopher will make such lovely children.  But he
never meets any nice Catholic girls, and if he never
meets them how can he marry them and have children?"

"Oh..uh, I'm sure he's doing just fine on his own,"
replied Marisa uncomfortably.  "I mean, he's a nice
guy and I'm sure he has his own life."

"So, why kill me?" Mulder demanded.  "I'm not
preventing him from marrying.  His own sexual
orientation is doing that!  Surely you know by now
that he's gay."

"Oh, I know.  I know that very well," said Mama Rosa,
looking Mulder straight in the eye.  "He has his own
life, but if he continues to live it he will die
alone, without children to carry on the family's name.
 That nice Agent Scully, such a pleasant young woman. 
And she's not one of those big, hulking amazon women
either.  Now she would be a good mother.  I'd like
them to have a chance to get acquainted."

"You think Agent Scully and Christopher..." Marisa
gulped in amazement.  "Uh, Mama Rosa, Agent Scully is
just here to investigate the murders.  That's all."

Mama Rosa stared into the space that held Mulder,
speculatively.  "Oh, I don't know....That nice partner
of hers, Agent Mulder...how is he doing?  He is very
sick, so I hear."

"You're trying to kill me so that Scully can go with
your grandson?" Mulder's demanded incredulously.

"I have the Sight you know.  It's very sad, but I see
him so close to death, I think he will die soon.  Such
a young and virile man, too.  She will miss him."

Marisa was looking distinctly uncomfortable.  "I
really couldn't say.  They're just partners, you
know."

Mama Rosa turned the speculative look on Marisa.  "Are
they? Well, those are the last of the dishes.  You go
ahead into the living room and I'll finish cleaning up
here.  And take some cookies."

Marisa took a biscotti and went into the other room.  
She found Scully and Christopher speaking in low
tones.  "Hello, Marisa.  Christopher was telling me
his impressions of the attack.  I'm afraid that he
doesn't know any more than we do."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Marisa solemnly. 
"Christopher, is your grandmother on any medications? 
Anything mind-altering?"

"No, why do you ask?  Was she talking about the Sight
and curses again?"  Christopher grinned.  "Mama Rosa
has been dosing the family with herbal concoctions for
years and says that she can fortell the future.  We've
always just humored her, although she does have some
skill as a healer."

Scully sat up.  "Really?  In what way?"

"Well, when my Aunt Maria had cancer the doctors gave
her up as incurable.  Mama Rosa laid hands on her and
she was healed.  No more cancer."  Christopher gave
her a look filled with sympathy.  "Maybe she could
help Agent Mulder."

Scully smiled.  "Well, lets see what the doctors can
do first."


Watching Marisa leave the kitchen, Mama Rosa secured
the door behind her and turned to face Mulder.

"You," she hissed. "You are nothing but trouble!  The
sooner you're dead, the sooner my Christopher gets a
nice girl for his wife. You may have fought me off
before, but you can't last forever, the saints curse
you!  You will not deny me my great-grandchildren!" 
She began stalking toward Mulder.

"Mama Rosa, you can't change what your grandson is. 
You have to accept him; he'll never change.  Besides,
you don't know that  Scully is the woman for
him....Mama Rosa?"

She stood in front of him and glared into his eyes. 
"Remember this, Agent Mulder, you are as good as dead.
 And I will not stop until you are stone cold and in
your grave.  She'll cry for you, I'm sure.  But then
I'll dance at her wedding.  I got rid of those good
for nothing boyfriends who distracted my Christopher
from his duty, and I'll get rid of you too."

Title:  A Matter of Faith (6 of ?)
Author:  Xenith 


October 9, 2000
1:30 p.m.

Mulder followed Scully and Jovovich out of the house. 
Damn, he wished she would hear him.  He was beginning
to think that this wasn't a matter of 'could' but
rather of 'would'.  Scully was perfectly capable of
shutting herself away from anything that smacked of
the paranormal, especially if it implied that she
herself might be a bit psychic.

He leaned against the car as Jovovich and Scully
discussed their plans.

"Chris wasn't sure which of the suspects might have
been involved in the attacks and didn't have anything
to add to my observations," Scully said thoughtfully.

"Heck, maybe it was magic.  Curses and all that, you
know," Marisa commented.

Scully flinched and looked at her sharply. 
"Ill-wishing, you mean?  Now that's an extreme
possibility.  Mulder would...." her voice trailed off,
then she pulled herself up short.  "But that's silly.
There's no such thing as curses and it isn't possible
to ill-wish somebody to death.  If it were, half the
politicians in Congress would be gone.  No, I think
I'll accomplish more by interviewing the suspects and
their families."

"You're probably right.  I have court this afternoon,
so I can't go along.  Could you drop me off at the
County Building?"  Jovovich slid into the passenger's
seat of the car.  As the car started, Jovovich added,
"Don't you think you should take some backup with you?
I mean, those families live in remote areas.  Now that
your partner's..."
Jovovich stopped when she saw the look on Scully's
face.

"No, I can't trust any of the local P.D. on this one.
You were right about that.  And it'd take too long to
wait for another Federal agent.  I'll be okay alone,"
Scully steered the car to the front of the building,
and Jovovich got out.

"Well, check in with me this afternoon, will you?" 
Jovovich asked.

"I will. Don't worry." Scully flashed a brief smile,
then pulled the car away from the building.  She drove
first to the hospital, though.  

A conference with Dr. Potter revealed that Mulder's
condition was unchanged.  Another battery of tests had
found no abnormal brain activity, no drugs in his
system and no apparent organic cause for his
unresponsiveness.

"You mean that you have no explanation at all for his
condition?" Scully demanded incredulously, then
sighed.  "With Mulder, why am I not surprised?"

Potter grimaced back.  "Well, if he's subject to any
unusual conditions or illnesses, now's the time to
tell us.  We're stumped."

Scully opened her mouth, preparatory to giving her a
full history of Mulder's various adventures, then
stopped.  She had a strong feeling that whatever it
was he had, it wasn't something he'd brought with him.
 She shook her head.  "Nothing that you'd find
relevant."

After bidding Dr. Potter good-bye, Scully sat by
Mulder's bedside for a bit.  He didn't look ill.  He
looked more like he was napping.

"Mulder, I don't know if you can hear me but I need to
talk to you.  The doctors haven't been able to figure
out what's wrong with you, why you don't wake up. 
They haven't found anything physical but...I have to
admit that the attack we felt wasn't physical in
nature."

*And about time you admitted that,* Mulder walked up
and stood next to his untenanted body in the bed.
*I've only been telling you that all day.*

Scully picked up his hand and cradled it between her
own.  "I'm starting to think about extreme
possibilities now.  The young people who've been
preying on this community are skin-heads who follow
Nazi beliefs.  Maybe the Nazis did have some kind
of..kind of..magic that these kids discovered and used
on the victims.  I wish I could ask you about it, but
I'll just have to feel my way through.  If you woke up
now, though, you could tell me what you've read about
the Nazis and the supernatural." She paused hopefully,
then her face fell.  "Well, if you do get any ideas,
I'm listening.  Just hang in there, partner.  They
haven't succeeded in killing you yet and they aren't
going to if I have anything to say about it."

*Scully,* Mulder said softly. *You're the one I'm
worried about.  These skinheads aren't the ones, you
have to understand that. Mama Rosa is the one to watch
out for, and she's vindictive.  She wants me out of
the way but she hasn't gotten me yet.  You, she'll
preserve until she finds out you can't have kids, and
then she'll go for you too if I read her right.  She's
so enraged at her nephew for being gay that she's
taking it out on everybody she relates even remotely
to his childlessness.  She loves him, so she can't
strike against him directly.  But anybody else in the
blast radius is going to be in danger.*  He shrugged.
*Not, you understand, that I enjoy my new state of
existence.  Frankly, I miss being contradicted pretty
regularly.  But I wish I could tell you what the
answer is.* He sighed and watched as she smoothed his
hair back from his forehead.

"I'd better go now, Mulder.  I'll be back later." 
Scully got up and left the room, Mulder following
disconsolately after.



3:00 p.m.
31265 Jamboree Rd.
Wilsonville, OR


Scully tapped on the front door of the old farmhouse,
wishing that she was sure this had been a wise idea. 
The last time they'd interviewed members of this
family Mulder had ended up in a hospital.  Still, she
had her gun and she'd use it if she had to.  And this
was the only way she could think of to find answers.

She painted a bright smile on her face as the door
opened. "Mrs. Parker? I'm Dana Scully with the FBI. 
Can I have a moment of your time? I'd like to discuss
your son."

The tired looking woman sighed.  "There's nothing to
discuss, and the faster you get off our property the
happier you'll be."

"Mrs. Parker, I have reason to believe that your son
Edward may have been involved in an attack on a
Federal Agent last night.."

"He couldn't have. He's in Juvie Hall and will be for
the next two weeks. You got nothin' on him."  The door
started to close but Scully stuck her foot in the
crack.

"Please, Mrs. Parker.  I believe that Edward is
involved in something over his head.  Whether or not
he was physically present, he could be charged as an
accessory.  I need to know..uh..what his neo-Nazi
activities might be.  You'd be helping Edward by
bringing it all to light now."

The door stopped closing.  "Bringing what all to
light?  You know about all of it, don't you?"

Scully nodded, hoping that her suspicions matched the
woman's. "Oh yes.  An..informant told us all about the
group and its goals.  You'd be better off coming clean
now and trying to get a deal for your son."

Scully heard a lound 'bang!' and felt a sharp pain in
her thigh.  As she fell over onto the metal deck she
heard the splintered door swing open.

"Tommy, you didn't have to shoot her!  That was
hasty," the woman called as a man in jeans and tee
shirt scrambled out to the deck and removed Scully's
gun.  

Scully clutched her leg and moaned while he dragged
her through the house and toward a hallway door.  "She
said she knew about everything.  If those drug deals
come to light we'll all be in jail for a million
years!  That's the last thing we need.  I'll get her
in the basement and kill her, then we can figure out a
way to hide the body."  

Scully felt herself hit every step on a long wooden
stairway, to land huddled on a cement floor.  The door
overhead slammed and the light went out.  She could
hear voices from the house.

"You'll do no such thing!  You kill a Fed and we're
all dead meat!  We gotta wait until your brother gets
here tomorrow, then we decide what to do.  Mama said I
married an idiot, and I sure believe her now!"

Scully carefully dragged herself to the wall and
propped herself up.  Bleeding from the thigh, got to
make a tourniquet.  She carefully tore a strip from
her blouse and wrapped it around her leg, hissing in
pain as she tightened it.  She rested her head against
the wall and looked up into the blackness.  No Nazi
rituals.  Nothing but drugs.

"That's right," said Mulder conversationally.  "No
rituals, just a pretty amateurish drug ring.  You
really walked into it, Scully."

"Mulder, go back to your coma and let me alone,"
Scully muttered.

"Hey, you can hear me," Mulder said in delight.  "I've
been talking to you all day."

"Must be the shock setting in," Scully replied
tiredly. "I only seem to have these hallucinations
when I'm either asleep or ill.  Go away.  I need to
find a way to get out of here and I need a clear
mind."

Mulder was quiet, then said softly, "But I am here,
Scully.  I want to help.  There aren't any Nazi
rituals going on here.  Those kids, stupid as they
are, didn't kill those men.  Rosa Armanini did, by
ill-wishing them all to death.  That's how she tried
to kill me."

"Okay, I'll bite.  You're the real Fox Mulder, come to
me in spirit while in a coma.  Why aren't you dead
then?"

Mulder looked a little embarrassed.  "Well, the only
conclusion I could reach is that you were there when
she attacked me.  And I've been following you pretty
closely ever since then.  Whenever her hatred gets too
strong, I get strength from you."

"How?  Are you some kind of vampire then?" Scully
looked at Mulder's glowing form, her disbelief
increasing.

Mulder looked, if anything, even more uncomfortable. 
"Scully, I can withstand what she throws at me because
you love me.  It kind of glows from you.  She's still
trying to kill me, you know."

"So you've been saying," Scully replied, then shook
her head.  "Mulder, I've seen and done some pretty
weird things since becoming your partner, but this has
to top the list." She pushed the cloth harder against
her thigh.  "So, how do I get out of here?"

"This basement is windowless and there's only the one
door, locked," replied Mulder. 

"Man, I really did it this time..seeing things,
now...." Scully muttered to herself and shifted
position, trying to stand.  "Got to get out of here."

"Scully, just...just sit down, would you? You're going
to make the bleeding worse!"  Mulder moved around her,
careful not to touch her.  

She sat back down and cradled her head in her hand. 
"So I love you, huh?  Where do you get that?"

"You do, Scully.  You won't admit it but you've saved
my life a dozen times, lied for me, sacrificed your
career to save me.  It's pretty obvious."  Mulder
grinned at her.  "And besides, in my present state I
can pretty much feel your emotions."

"Oh.  And what am I emoting now?"

"Frustration.  Uncertainty.  Fear.  I understand those
things, I've felt them myself.  Usually in combination
with my feelings about you."  Mulder settled down to
the floor next to her.  Scully just eyed him.

"I can't believe that I'm discussing my emotional life
with an hallucination," she said wonderingly.

"Well, who else you gonna trust?  C'mon Scully, tell
me how you really feel," Mulder urged.

"How do I feel?  I'm partnered with a man who tried to
kiss me once and never tried again.  He teases me,
flirts with me, makes innuendo after innuendo but
never follows through.  His work is the most important
thing in his life, not me.  If I'm not first, I can
stand being second but only if my life and heart are
my own.  There.  Are you satisfied?" she said to the
crushed looking hallucination sitting next to her.

"You have a valid point," he admitted.  "I never tried
again because every time I edged a little bit close to
you, you backed off, or shot my innuendoes down.  What
would you want me to do?  Throw you over the office
desk and ravish you there in the Hoover Building
basement?" Mulder frowned at her.

Scully blinked.  Who knew that a hallucination could
be this touchy?  "At least I'd know I held some
importance to you beyond my usefulness as your partner
and general go-fer.  Geez, Mulder, I've been trying to
catch your eye for years and I finally just gave up on
it.  If you hadn't made a move in 7 years, it was
never coming."

"Okay, so I'm chicken-shit. That stops now.  Scully,
I'm going for help.  You're in bad shape and I think
I'm the best chance you have.  I'll see if I can make
anybody else hear me."  Mulder stood up and
disappeared before Scully could protest.

She found herself alone in the darkness, suddenly
missing the presence of her talkative hallucination. 
"Why can't I see visions of pink elephants or
something entertaining?" she muttered to herself. 
"Fox Mulder.  I hallucinate Fox Mulder instead.  Oh
Starbuck, you're gone on this man, far gone."  

She quietly stared into the black darkness and wished
that her hallucination hadn't vanished.

Title:  A Matter of Faith (7 of 7)
Author:  Xenith 


October 9, 2000
5:30 p.m.
Barrington County Building
Office of Marisa Jovovich

Mulder approached the desk, seeing the surface piled
high with files.  A brunette head was bent over an
open file, riffling through the  papers.  She sighed
and closed it, then moved it onto another pile.

*Marisa!  Hey Marisa!  Can you hear me?* Mulder came
to stand next to her.  She shivered a bit, then pulled
the next file off the pile and opened it.

*This is frustrating,* he muttered.  *MARISA!  HEY!*
he bellowed into her ear.  She shuffled the papers in
the file but otherwise didn't react.

*This is getting ridiculous,* said Mulder. *Gotta be
able to do more than this.  Ghosts manage to lift
things, maybe I can do the same?*  He reached for the
pile of papers and pushed with all his will.  To his
gratification, the stack wavered and toppled off the
desk.

"Shit," said Marisa and dived for her stack of files. 
While she was on the floor gathering them together,
Mulder tried again.

*Marisa, listen to me.  Scully's in danger.  She's 
been shot and she's trapped in the Parkers'  basement.
 They're going to kill her come morning if she isn't
dead already.  You have to get help.  Can you hear
me?*

Marisa kept gathering files together, stacked them 
back on the desk then took her seat again.

Mulder muttered an expletive under his breath and
pushed against the pile again.  Marisa was too fast
for him, though.  She grabbed it as it began to
topple, then carefully removed files and redistributed
them into smaller stacks.

Mulder could feel himself getting tired as he tried
again and again to catch her attention.  The piles
weren't working, so he tried to slam the door.  Too
heavy, it just swayed a bit as though in a breeze. 
Marisa just looked up and shook her head.  "Damned air
conditioning," she said to herself and shivered.

Mulder spent at least thirty minutes alternately
shouting in Marisa's ear and trying to move small
objects around the room.  Marisa was oblivious.

Finally he had to admit that this wasn't working.

*Damn it, Marisa, she's dying out there,* he said
despairingly.  *She's been shot and she'll bleed to
death unless somebody gets out there to her. 
Please...* He closed his eyes and begged with all his
strength.  Finally he sighed in defeat.

He had been away too long.  He was the only help she
was likely to get and he had to figure something out. 
Mulder sadly willed himself back to Scully.

As he approached her in the basement, she looked
smaller and paler than she had when he'd left.  He
decided he would scout around and try to find an
escape route before he let her see him.  

Okay, the basement had one door.  But this was an old
house.  Maybe an old vent or something led to the
surface?  He wandered around the basement, peering
into dark corners.  The one benefit to being a 
sort-of ghost was the ability to see in the dark.  He
supposed he'd better get used to this lifestyle, since
he didn't seem to be going anywhere...wait a minute. 
What was that?

He looked closer and found a small wooden door next to
an old furnace.  He made his way through the door
(nice not to be solid matter sometimes) and up the
chute to the surface.  Coal chute, and big enough
around for Scully to fit.  No cover on the surface end
but she'd have to pry the basement end off.

Naturally the chute was in the darkest corner of the
basement. No way Scully could see it from her spot
near the stairway.

*I hope she listens this time,* he muttered.

He approached Scully where she sat looking blindly
into the darkness and sat down next to her.

*Hey, Scully.  What's up?* he asked conversationally.

She jumped and stared at him. "Great.  I'm seeing
things again." She rubbed her eyes then looked
hopefully back at him.  Damn, he was still there. "I
must be weaker than I thought."

Mulder looked at her thigh, black with blood, and
could sense the life flowing out of her.  He grew
somber.  *Scully, you know how I'm always challenging
you to believe things you don't want to accept?  This
is one of those times.  I think I may have found a way
out but you have to have faith in me.*

She gave him a tight little smile. "Let me see if I
understand you.  You, a figment of my shocky
imagination want me to have faith in you and your
advice." She leaned back against the wall and closed
her eyes.  "God, how am I going to get out of this?"

Mulder sighed. *Scully...let's look at it this way. 
You believe in God, right?  You have a faith that you
depend on.*

"You know that I do," said Scully, her eyes still
closed.

*Well, Mark Twain once said that faith is believing in
what you know ain't so.  You know that I don't exist,
I can't exist because I'm in a hospital bed miles
away.  That's your point, right?*

"Yes.  So?" 

*I'm asking you, just this once, to leave your senses
and your logic behind and have faith in something
inherently fantastic.  Please, just trust me this
once.  Listen to me.  I've found a way out and I think
it'll work, but it won't be easy.*

She was silent.

She was getting worse.  He could feel her pulse
slowing and the blackness reaching for her.  He
stretched out his hand, but stopped himself before
touching her.  She didn't need any more chill right
now if she was already in shock.  *Scully...please...I
love you more than my life.  Just this once, listen to
me...*

Her eyes flew open at the tone in his voice and she
studied him for several minutes.  "I don't know what
you are, I..I can't believe that you are what you
say...but I'll try."

*That'll do.  There's a coal chute on the far side of
the basement.  If you can get the wooden cover off,
you can climb up it to the outside.  It's uncovered at
ground level.  I can guide you.*  Mulder stood up and
looked behind him.  *Come on.*

She nodded and painfully levered herself upright. 
Mulder had to fight the impulse to help her, but
remembered that he had no substance.  His touch would
only shock her.

*Come on, Scully, just a few feet more.  You're doing
fine.*  He kept up the encouraging noises as she first
hobbled, then crawled across the floor.  

The first time she fell he was at her elbow watching
her anxiously. *Hey Starbuck, you can't give up now! 
You've got more guts than that! C'mon!*  

He heaved a relieved sigh as she glared at him, then
got back to her feet and moved toward the old furnace.
Mulder had to actively keep himself from attempting to
just pick her up and carry her.  


She fell twice more and was slowly crawling across the
floor when she found the wooden door.   She stopped,
panting, then gave it a hard pull.

To the surprise of both Scully and Mulder, the door
opened easily.  *Atta girl, now climb.  The chute's at
a slant, you can make it.  Just like climbing out of
alien spaceships in the Antarctic!* 

She favored his cheerful look with a hard glare, then
began inching up the chute.

Mulder went to the surface and kept up his chatter
while she worked her way slowly towards him.  Not
wanting to make any more noise than necessary, she
said nothing until she reached the top and had
slithered through the opening.  While she lay on her
back, eyeing the starry sky, she caught Mulder's happy
grin.

"Mulder," she whispered. "I am not a collie and I
resent being referred to as 'girl', so you don't have
to call me as though I were a recalcitrant pet.  That
said, let's get the hell out of here."

*Okay, your car is this way,* Mulder slowly began to
lead her away from the darkened house.

Mulder walked slowly, allowing Scully to follow him. 
But he had to admit he was tired.  He was really
tired.  He saw Scully reach the car and open the door.
 When she got inside and locked it he felt a rush of
relief.  She was safe, finally.  He felt...thin,
attenuated, so tired.  He looked down and his hands
looked more transparent than they had a moment before.
 Then the pain hit.



Inside the car, Scully found her cell phone and called
for help, both Federal and local.  To her relief, both
arrived promptly.  She soon found herself
ambulance-bound to the hospital.

Somewhere in the chaos, Mulder had faded away.  She
supposed that the oxygen and supportive treatment
she'd been given by the EMTs had so improved her
condition that she wasn't delirious any more.  She
felt sad, wondering if that might be the last time
she'd ever have any kind of conversation with
Mulder--even an imaginary one.



October 10, 2000
Barrington County General Hospital
10:13 a.m.

Scully woke to bright sunshine and the sound of
somebody moving around in the room.  She blearily
pried open her eyes and found Marisa Jovovich, half
hidden behind a bouquet of flowers, taking a seat at
her bedside.

"Hi, how are you feeling?" Marisa asked cheerfully. 

"Not bad," Scully replied.  "Leg hurts, but I got
lucky.  It was just a through-and-through, no real
damage but blood loss.  Those are beautiful, thank
you." Scully took the flowers and sniffed at them.

"Well, the local P.D. and the Feds took that farm
apart last night.  They found a thriving marijuana
farm and meth lab as well as a big cache of guns. 
You're being credited with a very nice drug bust."

"No evidence of Nazi ritual though, I'll bet, "Scully
replied.

"None.  And nothing to tie the Parkers to  the
murders. I'm sorry, Dana."  Marisa looked troubled.

"What?  What is it?" Scully sat up a bit.  "How's
Mulder?"

"Worse.  Shortly before they found you he went into
arrest.  The resuscitated him, but he's on a
ventilator now.  They don't have much hope."  

Marisa recoiled as Scully began detaching her tubes
and hauling herself out of bed.  "Scully, should you
be doing that?  You'll start bleeding again."

"I have to see him.  Get me a wheelchair or I'll walk
there myself," she said grimly as she propped herself
against the bed.

Ten minutes later Scully was wheeled into Mulder's
room by a disapproving Jovovich.  At Marisa's
insistence, Scully had donned a robe over her hospital
nightgown before being taken to Mulder's room.

Marisa put Scully's chair beside the bed and quietly
left the room.  Scully watched her go, then took
Mulder's hand in her right.

"Hey, G-Man, this isn't like you.  You can't give up
on me now.  You haven't finished making Skinner's life
miserable," she whispered.  "Damn it, Mulder!  And I
never found an answer for you.  They still don't know
what this is that's doing this to you.  The least you
can do is hang around until I can find the answers." 
She could feel her eyes welling up and angrily
scrubbed at them with her left hand, gripping his
fingers more tightly with her right..

She was still glaring at Mulder, while tenderly
holding his hand, when Marisa came back in.

"I'm sorry, Dana.  I wish those leads had panned out."

"There's one more thing left to try," Scully said
grimly.  "Get me a phone and the Armanini file."

Scully quickly found the number and spoke to
Christopher Armanini.  "Chris, this is Agent
Scully...Yes, I'm fine.  Yeah, it was a big bust, I'm
glad we got them.  Mulder?  No better I'm afraid.  I
was...uh..wondering.  You mentioned that your
grandmother has some healing abilities....yeah...Do
you think she'd be willing...?  Oh, she has?  I didn't
know that she was ready to volunteer to help
him...Yes, if you two could come right over I'd
appreciate it.  Thanks."

Scully carefully put the phone down and took a deep
breath.  "Marisa, can you help me get dressed? 
Christopher Armanini and his grandmother are coming
over shortly.  Rosa is known for her healing abilities
and...and..at this point..." Scully looked down at
Mulder's white face.  "At this point I'm willing have
faith in extreme possibilities."



11:30 a.m.
Mulder's room

Scully greeted Mama Rosa and Christopher with a
combination of relief and hope.

"Oh, my dear, how very difficult for you," cooed Mama
Rosa.  "I'm so glad that you asked for my help.  I'll
do everything I can for Agent Mulder."

"Thank you Mama Rosa, " Scully replied sincerely.  "I
can't tell you how grateful I am that you agreed to
come."

"Oh, I know what he means to you.  I've been wanting
to come here for some time and try my little
abilities.  Don't you worry, you'll see God's will 
prevail."

Mama Rosa patted Scully's hand, then wandered over to
Mulder's bedside, her eyes gleaming.  "Agent Mulder,
you can't see or hear me now, you're too far gone for
that."  She stroked his cheek.  "But be assured that I
will use my gifts to their utmost, just as I have
before, as others have seen."

"Now, to begin I'll need..." Mama Rosa turned back
toward Scully and was startled to find herself looking
down the barrel of Scully's weapon.

"What...?" Mama Rosa gasped.

"Let him go, or I'll shoot you," Scully said grimly.

"What do you mean?  I don't understand..?" Mama Rosa
cast a helpless look toward her grandson and Marisa. 
"You're hurt, my dear, and not in your right mind."

"Oh, I'm in my right mind.  You were the one who
ill-wished those men to death.  They were homosexual
friends of your grandson Christopher, leading him into
what you regard as a sinful life.  And worse yet,
depriving you of grandchildren.  With your hatred, you
were able to kill those men with a thought.  You tried
to strike at Mulder the same way, but didn't succeed."
 Scully glared at her steadily.  "You've been wanting
to get into his hospital room to make it final so that
Christopher can finally start dating a 'nice Catholic
girl'."

Mama Rosa flinched and searched for words. 
Christopher watched his grandmother's face in horror,
then said "Mama Rosa, is it true?  You know I'm gay?"

Mama Rosa frowned at him.  "Of course I know about
you.  You and those friends of yours, do you think I
am stupid?  You are 35 years old and no wife, no
children do you have.  You don't even go to church any
more!  You weren't going to find a wife on your own,
were you?  It was up to me."

"You...you killed my friends?" Christopher watched her
in horror, then read the truth in her expression. 
"You did.  You ill-wished them to death.  That wave of
hatred we felt...that was YOU."  He backed away from
her slowly, his hands before him defensively.

"Chris...I'm still your grandmother," the old woman
pled.  "I love you.  I did all this for you, so that
you would have a good life..."

"You aren't my grandmother.  I'm no family to you. 
When you die, and God make it soon, you'll lie in your
grave unmourned.  You *have* no family, old woman. 
You killed it."  Christopher shuddered and turned away
from her, blindly making his way out of the room.

The old woman tried to follow, but Scully intervened. 
"Wait, you haven't let Mulder go yet.  Release him! 
You can't achieve anything more by killing him."

Mama Rosa cast her an impatient look and waved her
hand, then followed her grandson from the room.

Immediately the heart rate on Mulder's monitor sped up
and Scully could see him begin to fight the vent. 
"Get the nurse, he's starting to breathe on his own!"
Scully called as she wheeled herself closer.

"Come on, partner, come on back to me," she whispered
as the nurse rushed in.

The vent was removed and Mulder's downward slide
stabilized but he didn't wake.  And didn't wake.  And
didn't wake.

The Mulderdreams had stopped as well.

October 13, 2000

Marisa stopped by Mulder's bedside, where Scully still
waited hopefully.

Scully had graduated to crutches and had been released
from the hospital two days before, but still spent her
time in Mulder's room.

"Do you think Mama Rosa is still doing this to him?"
asked Marisa.

Scully shook her head.  "No, I think she really did
release him.  Whatever it is that's still holding him
is the residue of the attack.  I wish I could figure
out a way to counter it..."

"Well, Mama Rosa won't be a risk to anyone anymore. 
Since Christopher rejected her, she's become
incoherent.  She was admitted early this morning after
a psychotic break.  She just sits and stares into
space, says nothing.  The doctors are still running
tests."  Marisa paused and watched Scully gently
stroke Mulder's fingers.  "My guess is that she has a
broken heart.  She did it all for her grandson, and
now she has nothing."

"She did it all for love, huh?  Mulder once said that
he thought love could counter such a hatred.  I wish
it were that simple."  Scully's face fell.

"Well, maybe you ought to kiss him then.  It worked
for Sleeping Beauty," Marisa got up.  "I'll stop by
later, okay?"

Scully nodded and was silent while Marisa left the
room.  Love as an antidote to hate; now there was a
romantic and utterly impractical thought.  She clasped
Mulder's long fingers between her own and thought
about all the crazy and inherently unbelievable things
Mulder had said to her in seven years.  And her
hallucination....She'd concluded that her
own...well...instinct had taken on Mulder's form and
led her to her rescue.  But maybe it hadn't been
instinct.  Maybe Mulder really had been communicating.

Oh no. If he had...the things she'd told him....!

Scully looked at Mulder's quiet face.  What could it
matter if he really knew how she felt?  Neither of
them would get the chance to act on it now.....

She stopped and pondered Marisa's words. "Can't hurt. 
Might help," she whispered.

She cradled his face in both her hands, then leaned
forward and gently placed her lips on his, pouring her
soul into the kiss.

She felt him begin to breathe faster and his lips move
under hers.  He gave a rapid intake of breath, then
began kissing back.

Her platonic kiss gave way to a passionate embrace as
he moved into her arms, his tongue searching her mouth
and his clasp tightening.  At last they moved
breathlessly away from each other.

"Wow, what a good morning that was," Mulder said
grinning. "Now I know how Sleeping Beauty felt."

"Is that what you were waiting for?  If so, I'd have
tried it sooner," Scully smiled back, running her
hands down his arms.  "You scared me."

Mulder looked solemn. "I was pretty scared myself.  I
kept talking to people and they couldn't hear me. 
They wouldn't listen, until you did, finally."

"That really was you, then? In the basement?" Scully
gave him an incredulous look.  "I thought.."

"That you were seeing things.  I know.  No, it was me.
 I was trying to get through to you all day.  But I'm
glad you finally believed me about Mama Rosa."

"Well, my hallucination was pretty persistent.  I
finally decided that my subconscious had put all the
pieces together and I went with it.  I didn't really
believe it could be you until Marisa said something,
about Sleeping Beauty and love."

Mulder's face softened.  "You can believe everything I
told you, Scully.  I do love you that much and I
always had.  I am a chicken-shit when it comes to
relationships."

She smiled back.  "Well, that makes two of us. I must
love you or the kiss wouldn't have worked, would it.?"

"Oh, I don't know Agent Scully....Maybe we should try
it again and see if it has the same effect?"

"Any more effect, Agent Mulder, and the nurses will be
shocked when they find us in bed together."