The Rush
By San aka Humbuggie
(c) 2001 
san@sv-tales.com
Read the whole story at http://www.sv-tales.com	
Edited by Janet, with a bit of help from Laurie :)

Story: After discovering the true identity of a killer,
Mulder loses his memories of the events that lead him to
the killer. Soon enough he finds himself caught in a
strange cat-and-mouse game with the killer, who wants him
dead before he - again - finds out the truth. 

Spoilers: No particular references

Background: In my "profiler cases"-stories I have created
a number of recurrent characters. Terence Davis, Mulder's
ex-boss at the VCS (introduced in "The Game", Eric Brandt,
Profiler (introduced in "The darkness and The Light"), and
Tom Fielding, FBI-agent (introduced in "Sins of our
Children"). You don't need to read previous stories to
catch up, just know that they've been there before. :)

Type: X-File, Profiling and lots and lots of MT


Twenty seconds on the back time 
I feel you on the run
Never lived too long to make right 
I see you're doing fine
And when I get that feeling I can no longer slide 
I can no longer run, no no
And when I get that feeling I can no longer hide
for it's no longer fun, no no
(Texas)


The day before - Oakland, Maryland

"I know who you are," he shouted through the closed door,
raising his gun to the wood that became the only barrier
between the killer and his victims. He wanted to shoot but
couldn't. He had to be sure what he was shooting at. 

Behind him, she screamed when two bullets entered the
room, hitting one of its targets. Inside the room he fell,
dropping his gun as the bullet struck his upper arm,
slashing skin, flesh and bone and paralyzing his firing
arm. 

When he fell he didn't even realize the second bullet had
grazed his skull, slowly sending him into oblivion. When he
dropped, he didn't feel any pain. He wasn't unconscious
immediately. His entire body just went numb.

She screamed again when the door was kicked open and he
entered. She stared in shock when she finally came eye to
eye with the man that had been stalking her for weeks. She
held her breath when she realized that it was Stephen. 

He looked down at the man on the floor and smiled. At the
end, there was nothing anyone could do to stop him. And
when the man on the floor finally passed out, Stephen took
what was his. 

When he killed her, he knew he had something else in store
for the man on the floor. He would call that his little
revenge.


Saturday - Allegheny Front Mountain Range Maryland

"Shit!" Moira Summers groaned as the horse threw her off
its back, sending her tumbling into the bushes around the
old rock quarry. When the horse tripped, she felt her body
fly through the air for one long second. During that
instant she saw her life flash before her eyes, realizing
all too well she had stopped living two years ago. Then she
fell flat on her back; her eyes catching a glimpse of
something wrapped in a blanket, and something else brushing
past her before she came to a stop. 

Then she simply lay down in the grass and touched her face
and hair, mumbling and cursing softly when she realized she
was still alive. She sighed with relief, sat up and
immediately started making her way out of the quarry. Her
butt hurt like hell, but not as much as her scratched arms.
She wanted to crawl up as gracefully as possible, before
Stephen would come to pull her out. 

"Moira, are you okay?" The face of her instructor loomed
above her and he was already making an attempt to go down
and rescue her from the small cave she had fallen into. 

"Yeah," she said quickly and got on her feet before he
could reach her, her hands touching the ground next to her
to grab a hold of something. Something brushed beside her
again and she stopped in her tracks, looking aside. But
then there was Willis' hand pulling her out, and before she
knew it she was out of the quarry.

"I'm fine,' she snarled, her pride more damaged than
anything.

She felt embarrassed, remembering how she had bragged
about her skills as a rider only half an hour before. Now
she had made a fall not even a rookie would have made.
Served her right, she thought. She had neglected to tell
Willis it had been ten years since she'd ridden a horse. 

Willis obviously had to hide his eagerness to wipe the
sand off of her hair and face and clothes, because he just
stood there sheepishly, saying, "Next time remind me to
give you Little Daisy instead of Blue Velvet. I guess she's
more your type of horse." 

"There won't be a next time," she groaned, passing him.
How in the world could she have been so stupid as taking
these classes at the age of forty? There must be something
else widows could do with their time. Yet she didn't feel
her age at all. In her mind she was still twenty years old.
If only her body would feel that way too.

Willis stared at her with regret as she guided Blue Velvet
back to the stables. He didn't know her mind was trying to
recapture what exactly had happened down there in the
quarry. What had brushed her face? What had she seen before
she fell? It had looked like a blanket with something
wrapped in it. She shook her head. She was so busy falling
on her ass that she didn't have the time to check it out.

She ignored the urge to go back down there, thinking that
it couldn't have been someone. No, it couldn't have been.
It was just a piece of paper, or an empty blanket, or
something left behind by another rider. She shook her head
forcefully, pushing the thoughts away and left Blue Velvet
with Katie, knowing the girl would take care of the animal.
In the shower room she quickly cleaned up, pulling off her
clothes to stare at the bruises and cuts forming on her
legs and arms.

Great! She had a party to go to tonight. She would attend
the mayor's homecoming with trousers instead of a skirt
then, or wear the longest skirt she could find. At least
then no one would spot what she had been trying to do. They
would all laugh in her face and tell her to find other
things to do. Eric would smile and call her his big, silly
sister. 

She showered quickly and got changed into the extra set of
clothes she had brought with her. She brushed off her
borrowed rider's costume and left the stables wearing a
warm overcoat over her casual slacks and sweater. Her hair
had dried loosely over her shoulders. She felt naked
without her light dose of make-up, painfully aware of the
onset of wrinkles. As she reached the car, she turned and
stared at the sky. It would become a dark and windy night
in the hills. She was glad to be going back to the city. It
wasn't a night to stay outside.

She startled when she saw her own pale face in the mirror.
The fall had shaken her up more than she thought. Her hands
shivered. She grabbed the steering wheel and tried to
control herself. She started the car and drove off,
forgetting all about the tumble. Everything was starting to
hurt. Tomorrow her butt would show all the colors of the
rainbow, but that was something for then. Tonight, she had
a dinner to go to. Perhaps she would take another, long
bath before taking off. Then she would dry her hair again
and put it in a knot. It made her look younger. She would
make work of the make-up and perhaps ask Ann to fix it for
her. That woman had magic in her fingers. 

And around seven she would drive to the mayor's house and
mingle with acquaintances. At least that was something
widows could do to fill their time.

But at night, when the cocktail party started, she found
herself staring at the sleeve of the long dress that she
had decided to wear. There was something so familiar about
the color of her dress and the way the sleeves hung loosely
over her wrists. 

Suddenly her mind gathered the vision of what she had seen
and formed an image in her mind she could not ignore. 

And then she recalled so clearly - in slow motion - what
she had seen. It had been dark brown hair and a face, and a
body, hidden in the blanket. And there had been his hands
sticking out of the blanket. It had been the form of a man,
covered up and ready to die in that dark cave. 

He was alive! The sudden knowledge made her drop her glass
on the spot, and the mayor looked at her, surprised when
she grabbed his jacket and almost breathlessly told him
that there was someone in trouble up the hills, and that he
might still be alive.


The day before - Allegheny Front Mountain Range Maryland

The hills were cold and damp the night Stephen Willis
brought the man here with the intent of leaving him behind
in the quarry. He knew the hills by heart. He knew
perfectly well they wouldn't find him until it was too late
to rescue him. The only people who ever came were the
riders that he guided. All he had to do was make sure they
didn't go past the quarry. 

Willis shivered as he buttoned up, covering his neck and
throat for protection against the cold. It was chilly out,
even for this time of the year. 

The 4x4 bumped over the small rocks that covered the road
as it stopped near the quarry. He got out quickly and
scanned the area, making sure no one could see him here. He
had driven up with the lights out, using his knowledge of
the area to find his way. 

Then he opened the back of the truck and reached for the
blanket with his victim in it. The man was heavy and
unmoving, making it even more difficult to transport him to
the quarry. But he had to make it fast. He couldn't risk
exposure now, not after the kill.

The blanket covered most of the face of his victim,
leaving only the dark hair visible. He knew the man was
still alive, breathing superficially inside the blanket.
Soon the breathing would stop, and the trace leading back
to him would stop too. Nobody would ever know where to find
the missing man, and nobody would be able track down his
murderer. 

His hiking shoes seemed to weigh like rocks on his feet,
making his moves slower. Everything seemed to slow him
down; the cold wind, the shoes, and the man that he
unceremoniously dropped on the ground so that he could pull
him to the quarry, wrapped inside the blanket. His victim
had bled from the wound to his arm and head but the
bleeding had stopped.

The man suddenly moaned and moved inside the blanket. He
stared in surprise as he watched the body fight to free
itself. He made one, two steps and then the blanket in his
arms simply slid out of his grip, and slumped down into the
quarry, pulling the man with him. 

Then the body and the blanket tumbled in between the
rocks, falling straight into the quarry. The body stopped
moving instantly. He leaned forward and saw the man's hand
and arm pushed out of the blanket, as if he was still
trying to free himself. And there was a glimpse of a pale
face with dark hair slumped forward. He stared at it for a
long time and then slid into the quarry as well, pushing
and shoving the weight inside the blanket deeper in the
quarry. Then he dropped some rocks on him that kept the
blanket down. 

He smiled as he crawled out of the quarry. From up here no
one could see the body. His victim would die during the
night in the cold. When he rolled him in the blanket, he
had already been hurt. There was no way he could survive.
If the cold didn't get him tonight, the animals would in
the morning.

He wiped off his hands on his trousers and returned to the
car. His body thrived on the adrenaline that surged through
him like an electric jolt. He had killed two people tonight
and loved every minute of it. In the morning they would
find her body inside her own apartment and start
questioning the man's whereabouts. But they would never
find him. His disappearance would forever remain a mystery.

He drove off and returned to the stables, parking the jeep
in the back garage. There were lights burning inside the
ranch. The fire was already lit. He was freezing by now. He
ached to sit in front of the fireplace and relish the rush.
Slowly his body would calm down and he would return to his
regular life. Tomorrow he would go out to find a new woman
to play with and the game would start all over again. But
that was something for tomorrow. Tonight he would enjoy
what he had done.

A few minutes later, clad in the warmest sweater he could
find, he held his hands in front of the fire and let them
be warmed up. He stared into the flames and remembered.
Then he suddenly grinned widely. He was content with the
events. Even though he could not share with anyone, he
would keep these memories for the rest of his life. It was
enough.

The ultimate kick to Stephen Willis was to know that while
he was warming his hands, there was a man dying up the
hills, in a small quarry no one knew about. 

The ultimate kick was to know that the dying man in the
blanket was an FBI agent. 


Saturday -Allegheny Front Mountain Range Maryland

But a little more than a day later, when night had settled
in again and the world seemed a dark, hostile place, a
convoy of cars drove past the stables of Willis, towards
the spot where Moira Summers had fallen into the quarry. 

From the windows of his ranch, Willis watched and rushed
outside, as Moira's car stopped and the agitated woman
stepped out in evening gown, telling him she had seen a man
in trouble up on the hill.  

And they needed his help to find that quarry again. 


Saturday - Allegheny Front Mountain Range Maryland

Moira didn't want to be here. It reminded her too much of
her husband's death. But she couldn't just turn her back on
what was happening and pretend it didn't happen. She was to
blame for their night visit to this place. If she had only
gone back to that quarry immediately, she would have been
able to help this man earlier. 

The convoy had to stop halfway up the hill. It was
impossible for the vehicles to proceed without knowing the
way. The police got out and stopped to stare at her. They
waited for instructions. Her brother Eric switched off the
engine and turned from the driver's seat, staring at her
and Stephen Willis who sat in the back of the car. 

Silently the three of them stepped out. Moira turned to
her brother for help. He had experience in these sorts of
things. As an FBI agent, he came in contact with victims
every day.

Moira frowned, remembering so clearly where she had lead
Blue Velvet. She had ignored Willis' orders and taken the
horse further up the hill, eager to show that she was still
a good rider. She hadn't been. And Willis had come after
her, too late to avoid her fall. 

"It's further up the hill," she said, pointing at the
rocky path that could only be taken when driving a 4x4. 

"Are you sure?" Stephen Willis asked. "I didn't think I
took you up that far."

"I'm positive. There was a path near a rocky formation. I
remember that rock had the face of a frowning, old man. I
used it as my marker." Moira ignored the others, got out of
the car and proceeded up the hill, placing her feet so she
wouldn't trip. The cops followed her after her brother Eric
gave his permission to do so, telling them that his sister
was the only one that knew where to look.

Moira was painfully aware of the fact no one really
believed there was a man up there. They thought she had
imagined it. She had told them about the fall and now they
thought she had hit her head and saw things that weren't
there. Yet, to be on the safe side, they had agreed on
going up there. If they didn't, they could risk the life of
a man. 

At the bottom of the hill an ambulance started making its
way up. Its lights sent a strange atmosphere over the cold
night. Another car proceeded up the hill behind it. 

Moira shivered as her brother Eric put his arms around her
shoulders and hugged her like he used to do when they were
little. The moment she had told them, he had shifted into
FBI-mode, despite the fact he was on vacation. He had
believed her immediately. She wasn't the type to panic. He
had arranged for the search with the local sheriff. Within
twenty minutes a party of five cars had driven up the hill.
The mayor was among them, deserting his own party. He too
believed her. There were sixteen people in total, all
following Moira Brandt's hunch. 

"It'll be fine, sis," Eric said, holding her like that.
She turned her face towards her brother and smiled. She had
never felt this cold in her life. She wanted it to be a
mistake. They would laugh and joke about her fear and tell
her that everyone could make a mistake. But instinctively
she knew she was right. 

"Will it?" she asked. "If I--"

"Stop it. You didn't put that man there." Eric let go of
her when she suddenly jerked her head and pointed at the
rocky formation to the right. "I took that path. We're
near!" She turned in anticipation at Willis who reluctantly
nodded and confirmed that he had followed her up there. He
seemed tense.

Several flashlights scanned the area, pointed in the
direction Moira indicated. Suddenly the woman stopped as
her feet hit a rock, sending it over the edge of a small
quarry, hidden under tree branches. The woman gasped as the
flashlights lit what she had seen before. 

Now they knew. The face of the man inside the blanket was
hardly visible. But his hand and arm stuck out of the
blanket, and his brown hair was dirty and ruffled. There
were traces of blood over his face and arm. "We've got
him!" Moira heard her brother cry out beside her. 

Instantly the scene was artificially lit. From the corner
of her eye Moira saw a man running down the hill. His
flashlight flickered in the darkness. She knew he was
warning the paramedics that they had found him.

She watched as her brother and police men slowly made
their way down the quarry, lifting the man's body, blanket
and all, carefully out of his prison. She listened to their
instructions as they gently carried him out, making sure to
support his head and neck.

"He's still alive," she heard the sheriff say. "Get those
medics over here now!"

She couldn't see the man's face nor if he was aware of
what was happening to him. She bit her lip and put her arms
around her freezing body, staring at the backs of the men
that were taking over as the guys inside the small quarry
lifted him up. 

Finally they had him. Moira moved aside as the victim was
gently placed on top of the blanket that had probably kept
him warm inside the quarry. Finally she got to see his face
as the party surrounded him with the lights. 

Then she heard a strange gasp, and when she looked at her
brother, she saw his expression change. She opened her
mouth to speak, but stopped when she realized he had looked
like this once before; the day her parents had not come
home.

"Eric?" she asked, touching his arm.

He didn't respond to her at first, just stared at the
unconscious man as if he couldn't believe this was
happening. "Agent Brandt?" the sheriff asked as they all
waited for him to speak out loud.

"It's Mulder," her brother simply said. "My god, it's Fox
Mulder." 

She wanted to ask who Fox Mulder was and then realized she
already knew. "An FBI agent?" she asked in shock. "Is he
one of yours?" 

Eric didn't give an answer. His face was distraught. Then
he leaned forward, knelt down by the other agent's
unconscious form and sighed deeply. When he got up, the
paramedics were there to help the unconscious man. He
grabbed his cell phone and moved away. Moira listened as he
talked. 

"Dana," he said as the body was lifted on a gurney, "It's
Eric Brandt. I've got some bad news." 

The paramedics worked hard to get the agent stabilized.
They bandaged his face and arm and fought against
dehydration and shock. The man looked as pale as death.
Moira was certain he would not make it. 

When Eric hung up after speaking with the woman on the
other side for some time, he turned his focus on the
unconscious man again and muttered under his breath, "You
held on this long. Don't die on us now, Mulder. You can't
do that to her."

Moira felt tears in her eyes when she watched her brother.
He was hurting and she knew instinctively he had been in
touch with this man before. He cared for the agent and the
woman he had called Dana. She shivered when she turned and
watched all the faces of the men that looked serious and
worried. And she could have prevented it. If only she had
followed her hunches. 


Sunday - Garrett County Memorial Hospital Maryland

The Garrett County Memorial Hospital was small but well
organized. They knew there was an emergency coming and were
prepared for it. A few moments later, when the ambulance
arrived, the gurney was quickly slid out and taken to a
small Emergency Room that could handle the worst-case
scenario. 

The paramedics had already called in, explaining the
situation. Their unconscious patient was suffering from
severe dehydration and hypothermia, even though the latter
didn't seem as severe as originally thought. Luckily the
blanket had kept him protected to some degree. His body
temperature was too low. His vitals were shallow. He had
respiratory problems. The side of his head was covered in
blood, apparently from a gunshot wound. His right arm had
been shot, a single bullet breaking the bone. There was
bruising to the ribs and probably internal bleeding to some
extent. But he was alive, and there was still a chance that
he would wake up. 

Lying on the bed in the ER, the agent didn't respond to
any stimuli. He was completely out of it when they worked
on him, taking X-Rays and a CT to determine internal
damage. The gunshot to the head wasn't as severe as
originally thought. It had grazed his skull, causing his
current state of unconsciousness. They would have to see
what happened when the man woke up. 

The tearing to the right arm needed surgical repair. The
bullet had caused a lot of damage there. It could take a
long time before he would regain full range of motion
again. 

Slowly Mulder's body temperature returned to normal but he
still wouldn't wake up. His vitals were too weak. But,
fortunately, the ribs were merely bruised and he suffered
mostly from cuts and bumps, probably due to the fall into
the quarry. 

However, the gunshot wound to the arm became infected and
the break didn't help much either. Mulder started to run a
fever. As long as his temperature was up, they could not go
in and repair the damage to the arm. It would be too risky
to put the agent under now, especially with his weak signs.

The agent was administered medication to fight the
dehydration. Antibiotics were inserted into a drip to stop
the fever from rising even higher. He was put on a
ventilator to help him breathe regularly, allowing his body
to rest while machines took over. A slow beep showed the
man's heart rate on a monitor. If one didn't know better,
he might have been as good as dead.

"Oh God," a woman muttered, standing in the doorway as she
approached the ER staff and the man on the bed. They turned
and spotted a redhead standing frozen as she stared at the
scene. For a second, Dana Scully believed she had never
seen him in worse shape. 

Her medical mind told her it wasn't as bad as it seemed,
but emotionally, Scully wasn't up to this. She had spent
the last twenty-four hours awake, looking for her partner.
She had allowed Skinner to comfort her when she felt she
couldn't go on anymore. She had called on the help of every
possible field agent and police officer in Oakland to find
him, and now they were here. 

But he was still alive. There was hope. 

"You're not allowed in here," the nurse nearest to her
said. "Please wait outside." "I am Special Agent Scully,"
she answered with shivering voice. "I'm his partner and a
medical doctor. What's his condition?" 

"Your partner has been very lucky," the doctor on call
said as he focused on her. "He's suffering from exposure
but we managed to get his temperature up. He's been out in
the cold for god knows how long, but fortunately he was
protected from the worst by a blanket. He was shot twice;
fortunately that could have been a lot worse. We're waiting
to see what damage there might be to the brain. His arm is
broken and--"

"Wait a minute," Scully said, raising her hand. "He's been
shot?" 

"Yes, once to the head and once to his right arm. Like I
said, he's been very lucky that--"

"Has he woken up yet? She interrupted him once again,
moving forward to grasp her partner's hand. 

"No," the doctor hesitated, "not yet."

"When will you know if he's suffered any brain damage?"

"There's no telling now," the doctor responded honestly,
knowing this woman had a lot more interest in this man's
life than just a professional one. He couldn't lie to her
even if his life depended on it. He preferred to speak the
truth, even if it meant hurting her. "As you know, Doctor,
we can only wait." 

Scully nodded and looked down at her partner. They didn't
move her away from him. They didn't order her out. His
vital signs were as good as stabilized. His temperature was
way up. She could tell by the feel of his skin in the palm
of her hand. He didn't know she was there. How could he
know while he was fighting off his demons? She felt
powerless, useless in a way. They had been looking for him
in Oakland while all this time he had been in a small town,
lying inside a quarry. At least, that's what Eric had told
her. They would never have found him if it weren't for
sheer luck.

She had been furious with everyone. She had argued with
Skinner and Davis, blaming them for her partner's
misfortune. She had cursed these damned VCS cases, snapping
at them when they tried to tell her that fighting wouldn't
help anyone. 

When they discovered Felicity's body, she had envisioned
him dead. She'd dreamt of him being shot and dumped
somewhere in a ditch in town. She had nearly been right.
She had believed he was gone for good this time. She had
blamed herself for not seeing how close they had come to
exposing the truth. 

But here he was, and he was still alive. 

"Mulder," she said softly, ruffling his hair like she had
done so many times before. Gently she moved forward and
kissed his cheek, ignoring the doctors in the room. Her
lips were dangerously close to his and she wanted to close
her eyes and hug him and beg him to wake up. She was tired.
So tired. She swore to herself this would be the last time
he would do a case like this, but she knew that she would
never persuade him to stop his work as a profiler. And even
so, didn't they both get hurt during X-Files investigations
as well?

"Mulder, it's me," she said with a soft voice that was
meant for his ears only. "Open your eyes, partner. Please,
can you do that for me?" She never thought he would react.
But suddenly Mulder opened his eyes for just a second. He
stared at Scully and his expression seemed to change. She
smiled back in relief. Then he closed his eyes again and
turned his face, slipping back into unconsciousness. 

The doctor mumbled something that sounded like a curse
when Mulder's vitals seemed to drop faster than he could
have expected. The agent didn't respond when he tried to
get his attention. "What the hell?!" the doctor exclaimed
as the patient's blood pressure dropped.

"Get him to the OR now," he ordered, "We might have
internal bleeding. And where the hell are those X-Rays?"  

Scully was unceremoniously pushed aside as the bed was
transferred out of the room. She stared in shock as her
partner's body was rushed to the elevator that would take
him up to the operating quarters. She stayed behind,
looking at the empty ER. 

On the floor lay rags of what had been his clothes. They
were covered in dirt and mud, cut and ruined. Her eyes
caught the blood on the used clothes. She looked aside and
saw a nurse starting to clean up. The reality struck her
with the impact of a hammer. She moved her hands to her
face and cried. 


Saturday night Garrett County Memorial Hospital Maryland

Eric walked in and found her like that. He stood still and
watched her. They knew each other for some time now but the
impact of the relationship she had with her partner struck
him every time. He felt so sorry for her, knowing what she
must be going through. 

"Dana?" he said. She turned her head with a jerk,
forgetting for an instant she had wanted to hide her tears. 

"Eric?" She waited for a second and then cleaned the tears
off her face. No one was going to comfort her, not even one
of her best friends. After the case in New York she had
been in contact with this agent but they had not seen each
other since then. It had been a huge surprise when he
called her and told her they had found Mulder. 

"I'm so glad you were there when... I don't understand any
of this. How did you find him? How did you get there? How
did you know?" 

"My sister found him," he corrected her as he placed a
friendly hand on her arm. She didn't jerk away but let him
comfort her in silence. It felt good to see a friendly
face. "He's going to be fine, Dana. He came this far. He's
not going to give up now." 

"I know," she sighed deeply. "I cannot believe this is
happening. This -- all of it -- doesn't make any sense. How
in the world did he get here? He vanished in Oakland.
Whoever did this went a long way to dump him here." 

"I don't know," Eric said. "I don't even know what is
going on. Skinner told me a bit but I can't make the
connections."

"Neither can I," she responded with a faint smile. Eric
still held her, waiting patiently until she became her calm
self again. Then she shook her head and lifted her
shoulders, as if to tell her friend she was ready to go on
now. Her partner was hurt but he would make it. She would
stop at nothing to find who had done this. She was no use
to him if she collapsed now. 

"The others are waiting outside," Eric said. "Your partner
has many friends that care for him. It surprised me to see
Davis here."

Scully couldn't help but laugh. "If Mulder knew, he
wouldn't know what hit him. I can't tell you how much I
appreciate your presence here. Tom Fielding had come over
to help with the search. Davis sent him. He couldn't make
it himself at first, but he did come over once he heard you
had found him. I guess he felt guilty because it was one of
his cases."

"You were working on a VCS case?" Eric asked surprised.

"Yeah, didn't they tell you? Davis asked for Mulder's
help. You were on vacation and Tom was in L.A., but he cut
short his stay there. Mulder's disappearance was all over
the news last night. Everyone was looking for him."

"I was on vacation," Eric said apologetic. "I've been out
of touch. I haven't watched the news for days. I had no
idea, Dana. If I had known..."

"It wouldn't have changed anything," Scully said. "I
wouldn't have thought about Allegheny. It had nothing to do
with our case. We wouldn't have found him. Just by chance,
your sister, I'm so grateful to her that she--" 

"She's waiting with the others," Eric said. "I wanted her
to go home but she refused, adamantly. I just hope she'll
be OK. She's been through a lot lately. I worry about her." 

Scully nodded and followed her colleague to the small
waiting room where Skinner, Tom Fielding and a beautiful
woman in her late thirties, early forties, waited. They all
moved and got up when she walked in with Eric. 

Terence Davis was gone. Skinner said he was summoned
urgently back to Washington but would call in the morning
to see how Mulder was doing. There was another case that
needed his attention and it couldn't wait. Scully nodded,
making a mental note to call Davis herself in the morning.

Tom Fielding frowned. The younger agent always had a
worried look on his face that seemed to increase now.
Scully had relied on him to organize the search the day
before because Skinner had to go back and forth to D.C. and
she wasn't capable of thinking straight. "Is - Is he all
right?" 

She looked at Tom and nodded, feeling sympathy for the
agent that had helped them out in the past. When he had
dropped everything to fly out from L.A., she had never felt
more grateful. He was one of the best agents she knew. They
hadn't seen each other for ages ,yet were friends beyond
anything. And somehow it always nearly seemed to cost
Mulder's life to get him back in their lives. 

Here she stood, with four men that seemed to play a huge
part in Mulder's life and she didn't know how to react or
explain to them how she felt. That was her secret alone.
They weren't supposed to know that she was about to crack
up. She was supposed to be the strong one. 

"He's in surgery," she said slowly. "He's holding on. He's
got internal bleeding, they said. They weren't sure. I
don't know if he's going to make it." 

"He will," Skinner said, hard, as if to tell them that
there was no other possibility. 

Eric sighed and rubbed his face. "If only we had known--"

"No," the woman with dark hair said as she moved forward,
"I should have known. I should have realized earlier if I
hadn't been too busy with that stupid party. But I was in a
hurry and ignored my suspicions. He could have been found
hours ago." 

"Look," Skinner said, "this is not anybody's fault except
for the man who did this to him. "Mrs. Summers, I cannot
tell you how grateful we are that you found him. If it
weren't for you, we wouldn't be here right now. At least
now, Agent Mulder still stands a chance." 

"Please call me Moira," the dark-haired woman said,
nodding, fatigued. Her brother's eyes watched her in
concern. She slightly shook her head as if the chase away
the cobwebs that overwhelmed her thoughts. This had been
such a long day and everything ached. She just wanted to
sleep it away. Yet she didn't want to go without knowing
for sure that the man she had found was okay. 

She turned her attention to Scully who stood in the middle
of the room. The woman seemed under control yet Moira could
see that she had been crying. "My brother told me he's been
missing for some time. Will you tell me what happened?"

"He disappeared yesterday," Scully said. "He vanished from
an apartment in Oakland where he was guarding a potential
victim. She was found dead. She had been strangled and he
was gone. We knew she was being stalked. My partner
believed -- with good reason, so it seems -- she was the
target of a killer that had been responsible for two more
murders of women related to her." 

"Really?" Moira shivered. "But if this murder happened in
Oakland, why would Agent Mulder end up here? This area is
miles away."

"That's what we have to find out," Skinner said. "When
Agent Mulder wakes up, he'll be able to give us a detailed
description of what took place. We'll know whom it was and
get this guy." 

"I hope so," Moira said sincere. "I really do. If there is
anything I can do -"

"We need to get your statement as soon as possible, sis,"
Eric said gently as if he were the older of the two and in
charge. Moira smiled. Scully felt a sting, watching the
relationship between brother and sister unfold. They seemed
so comfortable with each other. Why didn't she have this
with her brothers? 

"Would you mind if we did that in the morning?" Moira
said, tired. "I just want to find out if Agent Mulder is
going to be all right and then I'll head home."

"You don't have to wait, Moira," her brother said kindly. 

"No, I want to stay. I need to. I wouldn't be able to
sleep a wink if I didn't know he was okay." Moira smiled
faintly. Scully couldn't help but notice how much she
looked like her brother. Eric had said something about her
being through a lot. She wondered where Mr. Summers was, or
what had happened to him. 

"Why don't I pick you up in the morning for a trip to
Washington, if you wouldn't mind going there for your
statement?" Tom offered. "I guess we're coordinating this
case from D.C. from now on? We covered all areas in
Oakland, so I don't see any reason to go back there. We
might be better organized in D.C.. I am assuming, Scully,
that you want to transfer Mulder there as soon as you can?"

"Actually, I was planning on using the local police
department," Skinner interrupted. "That is, with one team
in Washington and another right here in Garrett County.
It's obvious that we have a very serious case on our hands
and we need all the help we can get. The area needs to be
gone through with a fine-toothed comb. But I don't think
it's necessary for Mrs. Summers to go to Washington." 

"It's no problem for me," Moira hastily said. "Do what you
think is best." She shifted her painful body. Now the
injuries of today's fall seemed to take their revenge upon
her. Her arms and legs were probably black and blue
underneath the long sleeves of her dress. She stared at the
right sleeve, clad in blue. That had triggered her memory.
The combination of skin clad in blue. The blanket had been
dark blue and smelled strange. It was a scent she didn't
like. She shivered and smiled gratefully at Tom who handed
her a cup of awful hospital coffee. 

Before long the waiting room door opened and the surgeon
that had order the transfer to the OR came in. He looked
tense.


Sunday - Garrett County Memorial Hospital Maryland

"How is he?" Scully asked, rising up from the chair. 

"Agent Mulder was lucky," the surgeon sighed, taking off
the colored cap. "He had some internal bleeding but we got
there in time to repair the damage before it caused too
much harm. He'll be fine in a few days. The rest of his
injuries weren't so bad, considering. We removed the bullet
from his right arm. His broken arm has been put in a
temporary cast to heal properly. He'll need therapy in a
few days. Right now, we cannot say how bad the damage to
the muscles and nerves has been. It might be that he heals
completely. But in worst-case scenario he might lose the
ability to function with that arm properly. The temperature
has gone down a bit but we're still feeding him a heavy
course of antibiotics."

"But--?" 

"He suffered major head trauma. The bullet wound to the
head is keeping him unconscious. Right now there's no
telling if he will recover. First tests show that Mr.
Mulder still has regular brain activity. However, at this
time I cannot state for a fact when and how he will wake
up."

"Are you saying Agent Mulder might have some brain
damage?" Scully heard Skinner ask from behind her. 

"There's always a chance of that happening," the surgeon
answered. "He might suffer from memory loss or have
problems with certain functions. The brain is a strange
thing, sir. It could be that he'll wake up and all is well.
Or it could be that we're looking at a very long recovery
time. He might not recognize you. He might not know who he
is. He might even have difficulty drinking or eating. We
have to wait and see." 

Scully nodded numb. "When may I see him?"

"He will be transferred to the ICU soon. He'll stay on
monitors as long as he's unconscious. He's not stabile
enough to pull through on his own accord right now. But I
believe that he stands a good chance of full recovery.
After all, he has made it through the worst." The surgeon
nodded and turned his back on them, leaving the room. 

Scully felt Eric's hand on her shoulder. They all looked
encouragingly at her. She smiled. "He'll be fine," she
said. "I know it." Then her smile faded and she remembered
her fears and distress when she had arrived at the
apartment, only to find Felicity dead and her partner
missing. 

With a nervous glance, Scully sat down and found she
shivered and shook. Skinner knelt down beside her and said
sympathetically, "It's okay, Scully. You don't have to act
tough anymore." 

Furious with her behavior, Scully rubbed the tears from
her eyes, straightened her back and said, "I'm going to see
him now." 

"We'll go with you," Skinner said.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to take my sister home," Eric
said, putting his arm around his sister. Scully nodded and
grabbed Moira's hand, smiling thankfully. Moira smiled
back, realizing she liked this woman a lot. In better
circumstances they might even have been friends.

The small party split up. As Fielding, Skinner and Scully
walked over to the ICU, Eric drove his sister home. 


Sunday - Garrett County, Maryland

Terence Davis called Eric on his cell phone on the way
home. The AD was on his way back to Washington and
apologized once again for leaving in such a hurry. It
seemed that everyone was still awake at this late hour. 

"It's so unreal," Moira sat softly, watching her brother
as he drove to her house. He was staying in town in a small
hotel. When he told her he was coming over for the mayor's
party, he had refused her spare bedroom, telling her he
would be leaving early to head back for New York and didn't
want to disturb her. His vacation was nearly up. These last
few days they had seen each other only briefly. 

Now Eric simply accepted the invitation to stay at her
place. He knew he wouldn't be leaving for New York in the
morning after all.

"I know," he said. "I know what you mean. It's so
horrible, isn't it? All of this -- it is such a nightmare.
Four hours ago we were at a party and now this." 

"I feel so sorry for that poor woman. You can tell she
cares for him very much. Are they ... are they seeing each
other?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. They've been partners for
over seven years now. I think they know each other better
than most people do. That probably explains why she loves
him so much." Eric's eyes seemed sad when he spoke. 

"Do you "like" her?"

"Me?" Eric laughed. "No, not that way. I did think at
first that there was a chance. But then we got involved in
this case, and I saw how she fought for her partner. He was
in trouble back then too, because he came to help her and
became the instead of her. She fought like a lioness and I
knew she would never consider another relationship." 

"Yet she doesn't have one with him?"

"That doesn't matter, I suppose. You might say that they
do have a relationship together. I know she's been in
trouble before as well. Davis, my boss, told me a bit about
that." Eric stopped, realizing he didn't even know why
"this" had happened. He hadn't asked about the case. He
didn't know who they were looking for. 

Suddenly it struck him. If he hadn't been on vacation,
Davis wouldn't have asked Mulder. He would have been
assigned to this case and Mulder and Scully wouldn't even
be here. He would have been the one in a hospital bed right
now. Or worse. 

Moira put her hand on her brother's wrist and said, "Hey,
no regrets." 

Her brother looked aside and smiled, parking the car
before the house with the white picket fence. "It seems
that you did get your wish now, big sister. I'm finally
staying at your house again. At least something came out of
this." 

She smiled. "But your vacation is over and you'll be an
FBI agent again by tomorrow."

"Yeah, but today I'm still on vacation and you can still
spoil me rotten."

"You call that vacation?" she smiled. "You hardly spent
two minutes at home, relaxing. You've been hiking,
horseback riding, biking and god knows what else. That's
not my idea of a good time."

"You went horseback riding yourself," he accused her. 

"That was different. I was trying to prove that I could
still do anything I wanted."

"By falling off a horse?" 

She pulled a face and hit him on the shoulder. "Get lost,
little brother." 

Eric turned towards her and pecked her on the cheek like
he had done ever since they grew up. Then he ruffled
through her hair, sending what was left of the hair knot to
hell. Before she could return the favor, he jumped out of
the car and walked over to the front door. He had always
been the sporty one and she always had trouble following
him.

Suddenly they both startled as a man moved forward from
the shadows. 

"Who's there?" Eric shouted, feeling very naked without
his gun that still lay in his hotel room with the rest of
his things. 

The man stepped into the light. It was Stephen Willis.

"Stephen," Moira said with relief. "What are you doing
here?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I was just
wondering how that man was doing? Is he okay? I was
worried, couldn't sleep. So I thought I'd find out." 

"Agent Mulder is going to be fine," Moira said with a
smile. "They expect him to recover soon."

"Really? That's great!" Stephen exclaimed and then lowered
his voice again to return to his own, calm self.  Moira
couldn't help but smile at the nervousness and shyness of
her riding instructor. She had known Stephen for ages and
he always seemed to move like this. He lived in his own
little world, oblivious to the fact he was a very
attractive man and an eligible bachelor in a small town
that hardly had any men in reserve. But to her he wasn't of
interest. He wasn't her type even though she knew he had a
soft spot for her.

Willis simply turned and took off without saying another
word, glancing at her brother. Eric watched him as he left
and turned to his sister who laughed out loud. "He's a
weirdo but he wouldn't harm a fly. Come on, Eric. Stop
acting like an FBI agent. Remember that I'm not going to
spoil you when you're on duty again." 

Eric followed his sister inside and locked the door behind
him. Stepping into her cozy house, he realized that his
vacation was over anyhow. He wanted to find out who put
Mulder in that quarry, and he wanted to find out now. 


Sunday - Allegheny Front Mountain Range Maryland

Willis walked up the hill when he saw the first cars
arrive at sunrise. They had been working at the quarry all
night, but now they were really getting into it. He knew
they would comb the place, looking for anything that could
lead them to their killer. 

If they only knew their suspect lived at the bottom of the
hill. It would have made their lives easier. But he wasn't
planning on giving out hints. No, he wasn't planning on
quitting at all. He had a good thing going now. The only
one standing in the way, was that damned FBI agent. 

Last night, when Moira told him he was still alive and
going to recover, he had felt his world collapse. But
during the few sleepless hours left in this night he
gathered his thoughts and ideas and came to realize things
might not be so bad. 

If it were, they would have been here to arrest him by now. 

He remembered his arrival at Felicity's apartment. Had he
known the agent was there, he wouldn't have gone over to
kill her. He would have waited for a better time to take
her life. But when he got there, he heard voices on the
inside and he had taken his gun instinctively, furious that
she had another man with her. 

Only when the agent had called out to him, using his name
in the process, he knew he had to do something. And so, in
a panic at first, he had fired through the door. And when
he heard her scream and something dropping hard on the
floor, he knew he had shot the agent.

Something inside of him had taken over when he shot. He
had done what it took to assure his own safety. 

Of course he had known they were on his back. He had felt
it. But they had no clues on his identity.  They were
talking to Felicity about it. She was wondering who was
stalking her; who had killed those two other girls. And so
he had killed her too, like he had done the others. He
wanted to silence her forever. 

He had liked Felicity a lot. He remembered their time
together. In this little shit town no one even knew he ever
had a serious relationship. They knew nothing about him. He
was a stranger to them, a weirdo that taught horseback
riding lessons and spent all of this time taking care of
his animals. They knew he was rich and that he only did it
to occupy himself. They accepted him for his money but they
didn't like him. Some of them were even afraid of him. 

He frowned when he approached the scene that was now
forbidden for outsiders. There was police tape all over the
place. He watched from behind the tape as they dug out the
quarry, looking for anything that might help them. 

He could see a huge plastic bag with the blanket in it. He
had stripped that blanket off Felicity's couch, pulling on
riding gloves before handling it. It had no traces of him
on it.

Suddenly someone shouted something. He couldn't see what
they had found but it had to be big. The item was placed in
a plastic evidence bag. Willis caught the sheriff walking
towards one of the cars with it.

"Hey Jack," he said, luring the sheriff into talking to
him. "What did you find?"

At first the sheriff didn't seem too eager to say. But he
had known Willis for so long and knew the somewhat odd
stable owner wouldn't hurt a fly. 

"A piece of paper. It seems to come from a yearbook. It
lay right on the spot we found the FBI agent. This might be
something." 

"Is he alive?" Willis asked as he paled. Where did that
piece of paper come from?

The sheriff stared questioningly at him, again wondering
if he should say much. "Yes, he is. Seems that he's going
to be fine."

"Any ideas on how he got up here?" 

"We found a couple of trails of 4x4's but there are plenty
of those around here. So far we're still looking. I suppose
we have to wait for the agent to wake up first. He's the
only one who can tell us right now what has happened to
him."

"He hasn't woken up yet?" Willis asked. 

"I don't think so. Eric Brandt called me earlier and said
he was still unconscious. They're waiting for him to wake
up but that could happen at any time."

"I see," Willis said, glancing at the scene. "Well, if
there's anything I can do--"

"I'm sure you'll be asked to give a statement, Stephen,"
Jack said. "I wouldn't leave the country if I were you."

"Am I a suspect?" Willis asked sharply.

"That was a joke, Stephen. Of course you're not a suspect."

Willis muttered an apology under his breath and turned,
leaving the cops behind him. Several thoughts ran through
his mind. The agent was still unconscious. He hadn't talked
yet. If only he could get to him before he woke up. If only
he could get him to keep his mouth shut. 

He thought hard as he walked back to the stables, and then
he knew the perfect solution. One of his horses had been
treated with an aggressive course of antibiotics. He
remembered the vet saying that a similar drug was being
used on human beings, only in much smaller doses. A major
dose like that would be fatal to any man. There were still
some drugs left. The vet always left them with him as a
precaution. 

Grabbing his key chain, Willis rushed to the stables. He
was right. In the medicine cabinet he found one bottle. He
didn't have a syringe but he could snatch one from the
hospital. This was perfect! Willis hurried to the house,
changed into fresh clothes after taking a quick shower and
headed into town. He was going to pay the FBI agent a
courtesy call. 

And then he would kill him.

Part 2


Sunday - Garrett County Hospital Maryland

She had fallen asleep by her partner's bedside, resting
her head on his arm. He hadn't moved since they transferred
him to the ICU. The only piece of evidence showing he was
still alive, was the beeping monitor beside his bed. All
over his body were wires. He had tubes sticking in and out
of him. He didn't seem to be waking up just yet.

Suddenly her head jerked as his arm moved. She looked up,
instantly alert. Her body felt stiff and numb but that was
soon forgotten when he opened his eyes and then blinked. 

She could tell he was dizzy by the way he blinked with his eyelashes.
She had to comfort him. She smiled her brightest smile.
She saw that he tried to smile back, but there was a tube down his windpipe. 
He couldn't do anything. His eyes tried to tell her he didn't like this
numbness. But they just drooped and closed as if he had
nothing to say about it. 

She looked at him as he slept again. Relief surged through
her body. She turned as one of the nurses approached the
bed and smiled again. "He woke up. I think he's going to be
fine. He recognized me." 

The friendly nurse took her partner's vitals. His
temperature was almost back to normal. But he wasn't too
pleased with the tube down his throat, and Scully knew he
was going to fight against it. "I'll see what we can do
about that tube," she said as Scully told her he didn't
like those things. Mulder's eyelids blinked as if he
understood that it would only be a matter of minutes before
that dreaded thing was removed from his throat. 

The nurse left to find a doctor and came back with the ER
attending doctor almost immediately. Scully watched as her
partner's vitals were once again checked and found
satisfying. The doctor smiled reassuringly. "I think we can
move your partner to a room in the ICU step-down unit this
morning, Agent Scully. We might be lucky after all." 

Scully found that the best news she had heard in days. 


Sunday - Garrett County Hospital Maryland

Around 10 a.m. Skinner came into the room Mulder had been
transferred to and ordered his female agent to get some
sleep. She had refused to leave when everyone else had
earlier that night. Now, nothing doing, Skinner was
determined she leave, and promised her that Mulder would
not be left alone. 

Reluctant because she felt her partner might be waking up
again soon and would not find her there, Scully finally
accepted the offer of the spare bed in one of the empty
rooms on the second floor and fell asleep as soon as her
head hit the pillow. She rested, assured that her partner
would be watched. 

Skinner listened to the nurses discussing a patient's
situation down the hall and left the door a bit open. He
didn't like hospitals a lot, especially the private rooms.
They felt like a prison cell, cut off from the rest of the
world.

The phone rang in the room and he picked it up. It was
Davis, asking him about Mulder's health. Skinner assured
him all would be fine.


Sunday - Garrett County Hospital Maryland

Willis verified Mulder's whereabouts at the nurse's
station and gave a fake name as he registered as a visiting
friend. On the first floor of the small county hospital he
found the rooms where patients that still needed monitoring
were resting. 

Room 134 was the FBI agent's room. That was the one he
needed. From the open door he could see a bald man in a
suit standing near the agent's bed. Just as Willis looked
in, the phone rang in the room. The bald man answered with,
"Skinner."  Willis listened and walked away. 

So the FBI agent was guarded. He hadn't thought of that.
He would have to try and get the other guy out. Quickly he
walked to one of the pay phones and searched for the
hospital's general telephone number. 

"I'm calling from the FBI's headquarters in Washington,"
he explained to the receptionist when he reached her. "I'm
trying to reach Agent Skinner as soon as possible. He
should be with Agent Mulder in Room 134. Could you please
have him call our offices as soon as possible?"

"What's your name, sir?" the receptionist asked, promising
him to track the AD down. He didn't give a name and hung
up. From an empty room down the hall he watched as one of
the nurses walked to Room 134 and spoke briefly with
Skinner telling him there was a message for him to make a call
at the nurse's station. 

As expected, the bald man followed the nurse to make the call
to Washington DC. 

As calmly as he dared, Willis returned to Mulder's room
and closed the door behind him. He didn't have much time
and what he was doing was beyond crazy. But he had come
this far. He wasn't planning on backing off now. His life
was at stake now.

Willis dug out the small bottle of antibiotics and filled
the syringe he had stolen at the nurse's station on the
first floor before taking the stairs up to the second
floor. After filling the syringe, he injected the fluid
into the bag with antibiotics, slowly dripping into
Mulder's arm. This should do the trick. The agent's weak
body would not be able to cope with the strong drugs. He
would go into arrest soon and then it would be over. 

Suddenly Willis froze as a hand grabbed his wrist. For a
second he thought the bald man, Skinner had caught him in
the act. But when he looked down at his wrist, he saw that
the agent on the bed was holding him, blinking his eyelids
as he tried to get a handle on what was happening to him.

The following second, Mulder gasped for breath, releasing
Willis instantly when his body received the strong
medication. The agent turned his face away, seeming to be
in agony. Willis rushed out of the room and hid in the
empty room he had used before. He didn't dare wait until
the agent died on him. He wanted to escape from the
hospital immediately. 

Finally, calming himself down, he buttoned up his coat,
straightened his collar and walked out feeling very tense.
He used the staircase instead of the elevator again. He
didn't pass anyone. Before leaving, he saw the bald agent
still in discussion with the nurse in her small office. 

He used the backdoor to return to the parking lot where he
got into his car and drove off. Fifteen minutes later he
was home. There he relaxed some more, made coffee and sat
on his sofa, listening to the news. 

On the local news he heard about the FBI agent that had
been found up the hills. They didn't mention his death yet.
But it wouldn't take long. 


Sunday - Garrett County Hospital Maryland

Mulder was in torment. His vision was blurred as he opened
his eyes, sucking in the air into his lungs. Something was
wrong. He could feel it. When that strange smell came upon
him, he knew there was an invader in his room. He had
sensed that smell before, only he couldn't remember when or
where.

He opened his eyes, only to stare into the face of a man
he knew he had seen before. But he didn't recognize him.
Everything seemed so vague. He had images of this man in
the back of his mind, yet didn't know who he was. He
couldn't remember. The man's hands worked on his IV,
injecting something that would enter Mulder's system soon
and probably kill him. He most definitely was not a doctor.

Immediately he felt his heart start racing. And the world
became a pool of intense, terrifying pain. He reached for
the man's hand, pulling him to him. He could only use his
left hand. His right arm was in a cast and lay protected on
his chest. And the pain struck so bad that it convulsed his
body, making him want to vomit on the spot.

His system heaved, trying to get the pain to stop. He let
go of the man, who rushed out of the room and turned his
face towards the window, where the cold spring sun shone in
and lit the room. He had to get out of bed. He had to tell
someone. But he couldn't. He was paralyzed, unable to move
as the pain became unbearable. With closed eyes, his left
hand jerked until the IV needle pushing into skin and vein
became looser. Then, with difficulty, he brought his
immobilized right arm towards it, pulling out the IV with
his numb fingers. It took a lot of effort simply to pull
that thing out.

"No," he muttered, not even aware of the fact he had
spoken out loud. Before, when they transferred him to this
room, he had been aware of the movement. He had known he
was doing fine. But his body had been too tired to wake up
and his eyes seemed to stay closed of their own account.

Now he knew no one was here to rescue him. There was no
Scully, no Skinner. He was very much alone. Therefore the
fingers of his right hand pulled out the IV on the left
with as much force as they could. The IV needle dropped on
the floor, splattering blood all over the place. Drops of
it fell on the white sheet and blankets. Splashes of blood
covered the floor and the side of the bed. 

Exhausted, Mulder opened his eyes and stared at the
bleeding vein that kept on producing blood. His arm ached
as he slid out of bed. He couldn't stand on his feet. The
room twisted and turned as it if was invited him for a
dance. He blinked his eyelids, still focusing on the
window. He felt unbalanced with the heavy cast on his arm.
A sharp pain shot through his upper arm where he had had
surgery.

He stopped in his moves. Something pulled at him. He
looked down, staring at the wires that were connected to
his body. He wrenched them loose, wincing as small chest
hairs were pulled off as well in the process. The wires
dropped on the floor, as did the thin tube that fed him
oxygen and had been stuck under his nostrils.

He moved forward, wiggling as he planned to head for the
door. Then a sharp, strong pain doubled him over. He sank
to his knees, realizing he wasn't going to make it to the
door. He couldn't even make it to the emergency button that
seemed to jiggle miles away.

Someone find me, he begged silently as his legs refused to
hold him up. He slid to the floor, falling over
ungracefully as the day became night again and excruciating
pain sent him back into oblivion. 



Sunday - Garrett County Hospital Maryland

"I don't know what to say, sir," the nurse said as she
hung up the phone and looked at AD Skinner. "I have no idea
who called for you. I guess it was false alarm." She
suddenly jerked her head as the monitor inside the nurse's
station started beeping. The monitors that were directly
connected to Mulder alarmed her.  

"Mulder," Skinner snapped, rushing towards his agent's
room with the nurse on his tail. Swiftly the AD made it to
the room and pushed the door open.

"Nurse!" he shouted, entering the room where his agent lay
on the floor between his bed and the door. The hospital
gown barely covered his torso. The agent was shivering in
his unconsciousness yet burning up when Skinner put a hand
on his forehead. 

The agent lay face down on his side, one knee bent under
the other. His right arm lay under him. The wound was
bleeding again, covering the cast with drops of blood.
There was blood on the floor as well. His other hand was
stretched out as if he had tried to reach for the door.

"Damn it--" Skinner exclaimed, realizing he had been set
up and had taken the fall as easily as a rookie. The agent
suddenly stopped shivering and became very quiet. 

"Help me put him on the bed," the physician said, "and get
the crash cart here now!" 

Skinner had difficulty realizing that there was no pulse,
no vital signs -- nothing to indicate Mulder was still
alive. 

The crash cart was rolled into the room. Mulder's body was
carefully lifted. Skinner helped as his agent was returned
to the bed and stared at the pulled out IV that the nurse
was once again inserting. While the agent was prepared for
reanimation and the pedals shocked his heart back to life,
the AD frowned. He had to warn Scully but couldn't leave
now. 

The doctor muttered a curse under his breath as he entered
a syringe straight into Mulder's heart, forcing his body to
react with a jolt. 

Suddenly they had him back. Mulder coughed and heaved as
his body made an effort to wake up. The agent's eyes opened
in fear as he stared at the people around him. Then he
groaned, trying to get a grip on his confused state of mind.

"Agent Mulder, do you know where you are?" the doctor
asked, trying to get his attention. 

Mulder only muttered something that could hardly be heard.
He couldn't move his body. They held him down, trying to
relax him. But the agent wouldn't go for it. He breathed
heavily, trying to get a grip on what had happened to him.
He remembered things -- a man in the room injecting
something into the IV. He couldn't see the guy's face
anymore. It had been blocked out of his memory. But that
smell -- he remembered that smell. 

"Agent Mulder?" the doctor said, trying to relax him as
they prepared to inject him with a sedative. Mulder stared
at the syringe and muttered something that only the doctor
could hear. The medical doctor leaned forward and said,
"What is it, Mr. Mulder?" 

"Pain..." Mulder managed to exclaim, "chest." 

"Do you have pain in your chest? Can you tell me where?" 

Mulder's hand moved slowly as he put his hand on his
lungs, as if to say he could hardly breathe. Then his hand
grabbed the doctor's coat and forced him to lean further
forward. 

"Something... in... IV. Tried to... kill." Mulder's voice
died as the agent was struck by another series of strong
cramps in his chest. A nurse put an oxygen mask on his
mouth and nose, which helped him to relax a bit. The agent
took deep breaths and closed his eyes, refusing to give
into the darkness once again. The doctor's eyes wandered
off towards the others in the room. 

Skinner looked at the doctor. "What is it?" 

"He says there was someone in the room. Pull that IV out
now!' The doctor barked his orders at the nurse with the IV
bag still in her hands. She didn't argue with him. Quickly
she pulled out the needle for the second time. 

They all stared at the bag in shock. "Get another IV
going," the doctor ordered. "Have this one checked out by
the lab instantly. We need to know what was in it if we're
going to save this man. Transfer him to the ICU, stat."

A needle that lay on the floor caught Skinner's attention.
It had shattered in a million pieces when it fell. The AD
knelt and picked it up with a handkerchief and noticed that
drops of fluid were still sticking to the pieces of glass.
A nurse put the material on a small tray and took it along
with the IV bag.

Mulder stayed awake during the transfer to the ICU where
he was once again attached to wires and tubes that were to
stabilize his body. Finally he fell asleep but not before
asking about Scully. Skinner hurried to the room where
Scully was taking a nap and woke her up with the bad news.
She was instantly alert, following Skinner to the ICU where
she found her partner fast asleep.  

"How could this happen?" Scully said. "He was fine!"

"Apparently someone entered his room and injected
something into his IV. Agent Mulder was able to tell us
that much."

"I left the room for just a couple of minutes," Skinner
said, apologetic. "One minute he was fine and when we got
back we found him on the floor. It seems that he pulled out
his own IV and tried to call for help. I--" Skinner
stopped. "Someone set this up. I got a call." 

Scully nodded, angry with herself for taking that nap. But
how could they have known? "Was it him?" she just simply
said. 

"It had to be," Skinner said. "He knows Mulder is still
alive and wants to get rid of him once and for all. He
takes chances. That means he's around and knows what is
going on. From now I'm guarding Mulder twenty-four and
seven. He'll never be alone again."

"Mulder knew who he was. That's why he's so scared right
now. He knows Mulder will remember." Scully moved to her
partner's bedside and took his hand in hers. He looked
deathly pale, hardly aware of the fuss surrounding him. At
least this was better than being in such grave pain. 


Sunday - Allegheny Front Mountain Range Maryland

Stephen Willis watched as the police cars finally took
off. They had combed the area inside and out and then they
had left without arresting him. From behind the windows of
his house he toasted to the good ending of his ordeal. The
agent was dead. He had to be. And there was nothing now
that would stop him from selecting his next victim. 

And he knew just who to choose. Her name was Tanya
McKinsey and she had been in his high school senior class,
ignoring him when he asked her to the prom. She had married
a rich, handsome guy afterward and was now sucking him dry.
He had experienced all too soon that Tanya had interest in
one thing alone: money. She had planned on a divorce before
she even married him. He would be doing the guy a favor by
killing her.

Willis smiled as he watched her ride Magnificent Red, a
fury that allowed but a few riders on her back. Willis knew
his horses and knew who should ride them. Red was Tanya's
kind of horse. She had taken classes about six years ago,
ignoring the fact they had once been high school
classmates. But she had become a regular guest to the
ranch, always taking Red. She was a good rider even though
she didn't spend nearly enough time afterwards taking care
of the animal. Animals and people were mere objects to her. 

He heard Red's hoofbeats as the animal approached the
stables, and put down his drink. There hadn't been many
riders this morning, thanks to the cops up the hills.
Everyone was talking about the agent. Soon things would
settle back to normal and he could proceed. 

When he got to the stables, she walked towards him
removing her gloves and looking furious.

"What's wrong Tanya?" he asked. 

"Nothing," she said.

But he could tell she was upset about something. He knew
better than to force her into talking. She would never go
for his sudden show of friendship. And he wasn't interested
in that anyhow. He wanted to be near her and sense her
before he killed her. But the moment he killed her, she
would realize that no one fooled around with him. 

Distraught she left without changing. Willis walked
towards Davy, the stable boy that took care of Red and
asked him if he knew what had upset her.

The boy lifted his shoulders and said, "Perhaps she's just
afraid she'll be next."

"Next?" Willis asked, turning pale.

"Yeah. Haven't you read the morning paper, Mr. Willis?
They're calling him 'The Yearbook Killer' because he's
killed three girls from the same graduating class. They're
checking out everyone that might have known those three
girls right now." 

Willis felt the ground slip away from under his feet. Of
course he had known this day would come. It wasn't too
difficult to find the link between the three women he had
murdered. They were friends and they came from the same
school, from the same class. Soon, he would be questioned
too, and they would ask him for his alibi and see if he had
any quarrels with these girls. 

He had to run now, while he still could. But he mustn't.
It would look like an act of guilt if he did. No, he had to
change his MO right now. Kill someone that wasn't related
to those women and put them off the right track. He had to
take a woman that had nothing to do with the three of them. 

Slowly Willis walked to his small office and took out the
guest book. He opened it and ran his finger down the list
of names. Then he stopped, realizing he would love to kill
Moira Summers. Yeah, that would do him good. She was a
beauty and one that wasn't very much interested in him. 

She would do just fine. 


Sunday evening - Garrett County Hospital Maryland

There was a cop standing outside the room now. Scully felt
comforted by the thought that no one could walk in and out
without passing this man. And when Mulder was being taken
care of, the cop would walk inside the room and make sure
that those were real doctors and nurses walking about. 

Slowly peace had returned to the hospital. Mulder had
improved a lot over the past couple of hours after the
discovery that he had been administered a very heavy dose
of antibiotics. The lab was still trying to determine what
kind of antibiotics they were, and why they had such an
effect on him, but at least now they knew how to treat him. 

After spending the entire afternoon in the ICU, Mulder was
finally transferred again to another room. Despite Tom
Fielding's and Skinner's insistence, Scully did not leave
his sight. She accepted the food and drink they brought
her, but she would not leave. 

When she least expected it, Mulder finally opened his
eyes. It was after 9 p.m. and the room was dark. The doctor
had warned them it would take a while before the agent
would be coherent enough to speak with them and that they
had to be very patient. 

The agent's lips moved as he opened his eyes, licking the
dryness from them before he could speak.

"Take it easy, Mulder," Scully said, gently placing ice
chips in his mouth. That was the only thing he was allowed
to have right now. The agent blinked his eyelids and looked
around the room. He was frightened yet he didn't know why.
His entire body seemed to hurt. He couldn't move his right
arm. It was held into a cast with drops of blood on it.
Curiously he stared at it and wondered if this was his
blood. 

"What happened?" he asked finally. "I feel like someone
pushed me off a cliff."

She didn't smile. "You don't remember?" 

"Remember what?"

"What happened to you over the past day. Where we found
you. What you've been through." 

Mulder's eyes glanced curiously at her and he realized,
tiredly, that it must be serious, for Scully's voice
sounded tense and distraught. Skinner walked in and Mulder
stared at him in wonder. Why was the AD here? 

"Glad to see you're awake, Mulder," he said, "You had us
scared for a while."

"I did?" Mulder's voice sounded even more curious now, and
Scully realized immediately her partner had lost his memory
of the events. He wasn't fooling around and his voice
became tense when the same knowledge struck him hard. 

She sat on the side of the bed and said, "Mulder, what is
the last thing you remember?"

He had to think long and hard about that. Then he slowly
said, "We headed for Oakland after a call from Davis. Eric
Brandt was on vacation and he urgently needed someone. We
were working on a case. Then I woke up in here and there
was someone in the room. He tried to kill me. We fought.
That's about it." 

Scully shared a glance with Skinner.

"What is it?" Mulder asked even more tense now. "What
can't I remember?"

"Mulder, that call you mentioned came four days ago. You
were shot in the head, a graze. The doctors said this might
happen. Unfortunately, they were right." 

"Four days?" Mulder frowned. "Why was I shot?" 

"It's a long story," Scully said, "and one that you're not
up to right now. You should rest and we'll talk about it
later." 

Mulder touched his partner's hand before she could slide
off the bed and whispered hoarsely, "It's serious, isn't
it?" 

She smiled reluctantly. "When is it not?" 

Mulder had a million questions to ask but his body
wouldn't allow that right now. Before long he was fast
asleep with Scully and Skinner sitting in the room until he
fell asleep. Then Skinner brought his agent outside and
said seriously, "This is bad, Agent Scully."

"Yes sir, I know," she said. "We can't rely on Mulder's
memory to return in order to catch this guy. We need to go
back four days and put together all the evidence to find
him." 

"Is there a chance Mulder might have told you who it was?"

"No, sir. He drove over to talk to Felicity and that's the
last I heard from him. He hadn't called me or tried to make
contact with me about the identity of the killer. I believe
that he was about to call me when the attack occurred.
We'll need Eric Brandt to help us with this. He has more
experience with profiles than I do."

"What about Mulder's notes? Can you make anything out of
that?"

"Mulder's profile was pretty straightforward. We figured
out very quickly that the killer is someone that has been
to the same school as the victims and probably has a past
with them; a past they might not even have been aware of.
Mulder thought they had argument with him at one time, and
while they forgot about it, the killer must have kept
reliving it in his mind until he finally exploded." 

"Do you think his notes and profile might trigger his
memory?"

"It's worth a shot, sir, but right now I believe he's too
weak to go through this." 

"What about tomorrow?" Skinner said urgently, "You know we
need to solve this matter quickly. That man is still on the
loose and all we have to go on is Mulder's work. I don't
need to tell you how important this is. I don't want to
push Mulder, Agent Scully, but we depend on him. You know
he wouldn't want it any other way." 

"Just give him time to recuperate a bit," Scully said,
unhappy with the timeframe they had been forced into.
"Allow his mind to heal a bit. Who knows, he might remember
tomorrow." 

"Fine," Skinner said. "I'm heading back to the police
department. I suggest that you get some sleep, Agent
Scully." 

"I will," she said, "inside that room." 

Before Skinner could object, she returned to the room and
closed the door behind her. There she sought out a place on
the uncomfortable, short couch and fell asleep before long.

When the first sunlight entered the room, she woke up.
Mulder was lying awake in bed and stared at her. 


Sunday evening - near Oakland, Maryland

A new surge of excitement ran through Moira's body.
Something was finally happening, forcing her to wake up
from the lulling dream state she had been in for years. She
hadn't felt this alive since her husband died and it felt
good, despite the events that had lead her here.

Eric, who was now staying at her house indefinitely while
investigating the attack, had come to her house with the
message that Mulder had woken up and was going to be fine,
even though he neglected to tell her about the memory loss.

During the entire Sunday afternoon she had been wondering
about the man. She had wanted to go to the hospital to see
how he was, but then Tom Fielding had picked her up to take
her down to Oakland. It was a warm Sunday afternoon and she
felt uncomfortable. With the lack of sleep adding to her
already fatigued body, she knew she was in urgent need of
some rest.

At the police station she had given a statement about the
events, signing it when they handed her a printed copy. She
read her own words and realized she was still in shock. She
had dreamt about the event, this time arriving at the scene
to find the agent dead. She had woken up with a start,
calming herself down with the thought the FBI agent was
resting comfortably in hospital now. All was well. 

After Tom had dropped her off at home, she had a couple of
hours to herself and spent them sitting on her couch,
trying to read a book. When Eric came home, she felt
grateful to have someone to take care of. She prepared a
light meal and served it with a bottle of Chianti in the
small dining room. There Eric told her that there had been
another attempt to kill the agent. She had nearly choked on
her food. 

They had talked for a long time about the events. Eric had
told her that the agent would be fine now and that he could
take care of himself. She wondered why anyone was called
'Fox' and why someone would go through all this trouble to
kill him in a hospital. Then she was determined to get to
know these people. They had brought freshness into her
life, and she realized she had been locked up for far too
long. 

Suddenly she stretched her back and said, "I'm going back
to that horse riding tomorrow. No way in hell I'm going to
let those horses get to me. I can ride and I'm going to
show the world."

Eric smiled and his eyes lit up as he smirked, "What
spirit, Moira. What brought that on?"

She lifted her shoulders and tilted her head a bit, a
gesture that made her look like a twenty-year-old. Eric
watched her as she got up and poured them another drink. It
was late, yet neither of them seemed to care about that.
Moira didn't respond to her brother's question but thought
instead of Tom Fielding, who had taken her to the station
for her statement. He had glanced several times at her, and
she had returned the favor. She liked him and felt
flattered by his attention. 

Then she blushed and drank, remembering she was not in her
prime anymore and should behave her age. But after Carl,
she had not allowed anyone in her life. She had been living
like a hermit, spending her time going back and forth to
the city, pretending that her life was fulfilling. Carl had
made sure she didn't have to work a day in her life, but
that too had added to her solitude and now she regretted
not having a career. 

But what could she do with her life? She had no
references. After her studies she had not used her skills.
Almost instantly had she married Carl, her high school and
college love, who had inherited his father's money and
business. When Carl was at the office, she had spent time
at home, engaged in charities and going to fund-raisers.
She had been stuck in a circle of women who had husbands in
the same income bracket. She had never questioned her luck
until Carl crashed his car and left her a widow at too
young an age. 

After his death, she had been living in a black pit for
over a year, refusing to speak with anyone about her
sorrow. Only Eric could occasionally get through to her,
but even he did not have a grip on her feelings. In the
end, the sorrow and pain just subsided and made way for a
sense of living. Living was all she did, but enjoying it
was not an option. 

Until now.

What irony, she thought, standing there near the bar of
her comfortable home, that other people's sorrow should
become my new start. She turned to her brother and said,
"Would you mind if I hang around for a bit? I know it might
sound strange but I'm interested in these people, your
friends." 

Eric smiled and got up to hug his sister. He saw something
in her eyes he hadn't seen since Carl died. "Why don't you
come with me tomorrow to the office? I'll make sure you
won't get in the way." 

She grinned. "Just put me on a chair somewhere. But I'll
drive by myself. I do want to take those classes in the
afternoon." 

As if to make a statement, she picked up the phone and
called Stephen Willis, despite the late hour, asking him to
make time for her in the afternoon. They set up an
appointment for 4 p.m. She hung up, not realizing she had
just made Willis' day. She placed the phone on the table
and went off to bed, feeling better than she had in a long
time, now that she knew the agent was going to be okay, 


Monday - Garrett County Hospital Maryland

Mulder, who had been on the brink of death only a day ago,
was already sitting up in his bed, eating a bit of the
gross pudding the nurse had brought him. Scully couldn't
help but laugh when she watched her partner make faces
while being fed. 

The agent's right arm rested on his chest in a sling. It
had been immobilized to stop him from straining it. When he
moved it, a sharp pain shot through his system as if to
warn him he shouldn't even try to do anything with it. In a
few days, the temporary cast would be removed and replaced
with a lighter cast.

All in all, the agent had been a very lucky man and they
all knew it. Scully couldn't help but wonder how in God's
name her partner succeeded in recovering so quickly when
just a day before there had been an attempt to kill him. 

"What's wrong, Scully?" he asked her with a hoarse voice.
His throat still felt sore after the ventilator. "Are you
jealous of my pudding?"

She laughed. "Actually, I had a very nice breakfast, thank
you."

"Yeah right, eating in the hospital cafeteria? Why in the
world didn't you go out to have a proper breakfast?" Mulder
said, as he tiredly leaned back on the pillows. His mind
might be back in business, but his body wouldn't play along
just yet. 

During the night he had woken three times in the middle of
strange dreams that shook him up. In the first dream, he
was in a room with Felicity Green, the woman that had died
under his guard. She had been strangled to death yet her
eyes pierced into his and with broken voice she asked him
why he hadn't protected her. Her throat was cut so deep
with the piano wire that he could actually see her vocal
cords. Her head bopped on her shoulders as if it were ready
to fall off. 

He woke up that first time not remembering why and how she
had been she killed. He couldn't remember when he was shot
or why he was still alive right now. He didn't know why his
attacker dumped him in a quarry instead of finishing the
job on the spot. 

The second dream had him fighting with an assailant
without a face. The man who attacked him was strong and
seemed to fight better than any of the creatures and
killers he had ever fought. No matter what he did, the
other guy was always stronger; supernaturally strong,
perhaps. 

And the third dream was nothing more or less than a
nightmare in which he was stuck in a small dark room with
no windows or doors. No matter how he tried, he could not
get out. And he could sense something or someone in this
hell, and there was a strange scent he had smelled before
but couldn't quite identify. 

Every time he had awakened, he had seen Scully asleep on
the couch. It made him worried about her. He had wanted her
to go to her hotel and get some proper rest. From the way
she slept, he knew she wasn't in a deep sleep. Her breath
seemed shallow and her actions agitated, even in her sleep.
She frowned often and seemed uneasy. 

"I had a proper breakfast," Scully said, disturbing his
thoughts. "Besides, we need to talk." 

Mulder frowned as he tried to remember what had been said
the night before. He understood that he had lost memories
of the events that had landed him in this hospital. The
doctor had come in earlier that morning for some tests,
explaining to him that he suffered from memory loss and
that they had to find a way to trigger his memories. The
physician had tried to comfort him by saying that there was
every chance of him regaining his memories. Yet at the same
time Mulder felt he didn't really believe it. 

He had heard stories before about memory loss. He knew
that this could be permanent. Yet he felt that the trigger
that would reopen his mind was near. He could almost grasp
it. The truth lurked in the back of his mind. All he had to
do now was try to get his hands on it and see how he could
figure out the links. It could be so easy yet it felt
frustrating at the same time. 

"Mulder, don't worry about this temporary memory loss,"
Scully said as if she had read his mind. "You'll remember.
All we have to do is figure out the whys and hows and
connect the dots." 

He looked at her, fatigued, knowing he could not get
proper rest until he found out the truth. "Tell me about
that night, Scully. When did you know I was missing?" 

Scully sat down on the side of the bed and went through
the motions again, as she recalled what had happened. "We
had set up this guard system for Felicity because you
figured out that she would likely be next. She had the
profile and the other two victims were her closest friends.
We had no other potential victims to go on besides her. You
called me from the car and said that you believed Felicity
was hiding something and that you wanted to know what it
was. I guess she told you that one thing that made you put
the pieces together, because you were attacked. About two
hours later I was supposed to pick you up and Tom would
stay with her. When we got there, the apartment door was
busted open and we found Felicity dead on the floor. She
had been strangled with a piano wire. You were gone, but
there was blood on the floor, and we figured out you were
probably injured ... or worse." 

Scully stopped, recalling every second of that fateful
night and the search that followed it. "We immediately put
an APB out on you, hoping in a way that you were okay and
perhaps injured, walking around in the city. I could not
believe that you were dead, or that he had taken you from
that apartment. I was wrong about that. While we were
looking in Oakland with every agent we could get, you were
miles away from there in that quarry." 

"Do you have any idea why I was dumped there?"

"None at all," Scully said. "The killer must have known
the area pretty well. You would never have been found if it
weren't for Moira Summers. She took a nasty fall off a
horse and fell into that quarry as well, but she was
luckier than you. It took her some time to realize she had
seen you, but when she did, she got everyone together to
find you. And as it happened, her brother Eric recognized
you instantly." 

"Eric Brandt?"

"Yes." Scully shifted a bit and looked at Mulder's left
hand that lay by his side. Then her glance moved up and she
saw his tired eyes. He looked very pale but she knew he
wouldn't rest until he knew everything. 

"What a coincidence," Mulder said. "What luck that she
found me." 

"I can't think what would have happened if she hadn't,"
Scully muttered silently. 

Mulder took her fingers in his hand and said gently,
"Don't go down that road, Scully. Okay?" 

She smiled and nodded.

"Now then, when can I go through that file?" 

She smiled again. "Not a chance, Mulder. You're here to
rest, not to work."

"Scully, you know I need to do this. I need to know what
happened to me, and if and how I figured out who the killer
is. We owe it to ourselves and Felicity." He stopped and
sighed deeply. "She's dead because I didn't do my job
right. I need to find out if I could have prevented this.
So get me those notes and let's get through this before he
takes another shot at me." 

Monday - Garrett County Hospital Maryland

The press was all over the case. Every person that walked
in and out the hospital and looked like an FBI agent was
stopped and asked questions. Scully took the backdoor,
thanking a nurse gratefully for showing it to her and
walked to her car. Mulder was right of course but she still
didn't like it. She didn't want to put his health at risk
for something they might be able to solve by themselves.

But Eric was on the case and couldn't make sense of it. It
had been clear from the start that the killer was targeting
specific women. He chose them because he had a bond with
them. Mulder had been very positive about that. But what
was that bond? Were they ex-lovers? Were they classmates at
one time? Or had they become acquainted just now? And why
the three friends? Had they done something to trigger the
killer's actions? 

All three of them had been strangled with a piano wire. It
was obvious he used that for a specific reason. Perhaps he
wanted them to suffer before they died. But he didn't rape
them or torture them. Their deaths were quick and
thorough.  

When she arrived at the station, Scully saw Moira Summers
talking to the sheriff. Her brother was sitting in a
separate room, discussing Mulder's profile with Skinner.
She walked over to them and said that Mulder was alert and
wanted to be involved again. 

"No," Skinner said firmly.

Surprised, both Eric and Scully listened to his reasoning
as he continued, "Mulder doesn't need this. We can do this
without him. I don't want him involved again." 

It was as if Scully was listening to her own arguments.
Not so long ago, she had been determined to get Mulder off
these cases once and for all, but then she had come to
terms with her partner's reasoning, realizing he needed to
do this. Not so long ago, she had believed he was on a self-
destructive path to his own downfall with cases like this.
They took up his energy and strength and usually left him
exhausted or hurt. But at the same time she also knew he
was trying to stop others from going through what he had
been through after Samantha's disappearance. 

Even though his sister's disappearance had been resolved,
he still ached for her and wanted other people not to
suffer through the loss of their loved ones. For years he
had not known what had happened to her and the questions
had eaten him up. When people suffered after the
disappearance of a child or adult, he wanted to stop the
questions. He didn't want them to go through the why's and
how's he had been through for years. 

That was his biggest motivation and she knew better than
to stop him. 

"Sir, please," she said, stopping Skinner before he could
continue his objections. "We need Mulder. He's the only one
that knows who that killer is."

"What makes you so sure that he knows?" Skinner said. 

"I can feel it. He was shot, wasn't he? The killer dumped
him to die. He must have felt trapped. He thought no one
would ever find him." 

"But why not simply kill him?"

"Perhaps he wanted to take our minds off Felicity's death
so we would focus on finding Mulder; a distraction to have
us running around." 

"Or he wanted to get even with Mulder," Eric interrupted,
"making him suffer for some reason."

"Which brings us to what conclusion?" Skinner asked as he
tried to find reasons to stop Mulder from being further
involved in the case. "That Mulder knew him before he
realized he was the killer?"

"Could be," Eric said, "or simply that the killer felt
threatened by our presence here." 

"Do you have a list of people that we questioned about
this case?" Skinner asked. Eric scrolled through the thick
file and handed the AD a list of names that basically came
out of the 1988 yearbook, the year that the three friends
had graduated. There was another list of people that were
acquaintances of them, and people living in Oakland that
had some sort of connection to any of them. They were
scratched off the list immediately because they had alibis
or hadn't seen the victims for ages. 

"Who created this list?" Skinner asked. He had only come
over when Mulder disappeared. 

"We did," Scully said, "basing it on several pointers that
we found important. We scratched off all women immediately.
Autopsy revealed that the strangulations were committed by
a strong man. The throats were cut so deeply that the vocal
cords became visible. A woman could not have done that. We
had interviews with the parents and other family members
that could give us an idea on the friends they hung around
with during college. It seems that this list could also be
narrowed down. We ran checks on all the names that remained
and checked out the alibis of the people we questioned. Of
course we also removed the names of the men that aren't
living in this area anymore."

"Conclusion?" Skinner asked. 

"A list of about ten people remained that we questioned
more deeply. Most of them were ex-classmates that live in
the Oakland area. But I have to say, sir, that Mulder
believed the killer might not have been a classmate but
someone that followed these women from a distance, perhaps
even planning back then his first kill. He could have been
at the same school. Or he could have followed them
afterwards, aware of the fact they were friends." 

"Are there other women in danger right now?" Eric asked.
"Is there anyone else that matches the criteria he used so
far?"

"Those three women were best friends," Scully said. "There
were two others in their group they were acquainted with
that might be in danger.  Mulder was convinced though that
Felicity was next because she felt she had been stalked.
She came to us for protection. These other two women never
believed they were in danger and refused all help so far."

"Put a guard on them anyhow," Skinner said, "make sure
they understand the seriousness of the situation and tell
them we need to do this for their own good. We can't take
any risks now. They must understand that."

"I'm sorry, sir," Scully responded, "but I cannot believe
he would go on killing, knowing we are so close." 

Eric couldn't help but smile. "If serial killers reasoned
like that, Dana, we would be out of a job. If you follow
the standard profile, you might even state that he's going
to take more risks from now on, just to see how we will
react." 

"More reason then to have Mulder involved again." Scully
looked at Skinner and saw he still wasn't going for it. But
she had to reason with him and convince him it was the
right thing to do. It was all she could do right now. 

"Take that file over to Mulder then, and go through the
details with him," Skinner finally gave in. "I have to head
back to Washington. Are you planning on keeping him at that
hospital?"

"I don't see why not. The doctor said he might be released
in as little as two days, considering the progress he has
made so far. Knowing Mulder, he would refuse to be moved to
a Washington hospital anyhow." 

"Good," Skinner said, "but I'm leaving him as your
responsibility, Agent Scully. It's your job to see he
doesn't do stupid things."

"He never does, sir," Scully said wryly. "He'll be the
best patient they ever had in that hospital." 

Skinner couldn't help but grimace. "That's exactly what I
was afraid of."


Monday afternoon - Allegheny Front Mountain Range Maryland

The sun was slowly coming out from behind the clouds after
last night's windstorm. There had been no rain involved and
so the heat returned in full, despite the time of year.
Stephen Willis shivered in spite of it and pulled up his
collar. It could still be damned cold at night and he
longed to light the fireplace again tonight. 

He had been a bachelor all his life and didn't miss a
woman in his life. Who could suffice to be his wife anyhow?
He had not seen a single woman yet that would be the
perfect match for him. The ones he did find appropriate
were married or involved and beyond his reach. They didn't
like the way he looked. They didn't like his character and
believed he wasn't good enough for them, despite his
fortune. 

And so he remained with his crushes on these women beyond
his reach and dreamt of killing them. Funny, he reflected,
as he remembered how the first thoughts of murder had
started. It happened in high school. During graduation year
he had been in love with five women, and they all ignored
him as if he was air. They were friends; three of them very
close and two that spent time with them on occasion. 

Especially, those three women laughed at him and joked
about his appearance. When he asked one of them out on a
date, she had giggled and rushed to the others to tell
them. He had been a geek then, even more so than now. He
wore glasses that were too thick and clothes that were too
old fashioned, chosen by his mother because he couldn't
care less about appearances. 

He had been an outcast -- too stupid to hang around with
the other geeks and nerds that spent their time studying
and dreaming wet dreams. He was too smart to hang around
with the nerds that were too stupid to pass the finals. And
he was too strange to spend time with the popular group. 

The girls were in the popular group. They got nice dates
for the prom and never had a worry in the world. They got
laid when they were sixteen years old and were too smart to
get pregnant. They were bound for bigger and better things. 

When they graduated, they chose the same college and
classes. They graduated together again, helping each other
through the worst. He had been at the same college too,
choosing a different direction. His father said he had to
study even though he wouldn't have to work a day in his
life if he didn't want to. And he followed them from a
distance, remembering that one moment in time when he
started the murderous dreams. 

Yes, when Felicity rushed off to her friends to tell them
he had asked her out and they came back to laugh in his
face, he knew that one day he would strangle her. Behind
those thick glasses they could not see the love in his eyes
that changed into hatred. 

Once, he had seen the movie 'Christine' where the school
geek became a murderer, helped by a mysterious car with a
consciousness. He didn't have a Christine, but he would use
the only weapon he had -- anonymity. 

No one ever paid attention to him. He moved to the ranch
and made a profession out of his hobby, spending time with
his horses because they were beautiful, graceful creatures.
They had a will of their own but he could control them. He
lived secluded and at night no one ever came up to the
ranch that he had built at the foot of the mountain range. 

From that shelter he started watching them, one by one. He
chose Leanne first because she had been the first one to
wave him away. She had started the jokes about him too.
Then Wendy had been next and finally Felicity. And when
these three were gone, he had planned on taking Tanya. And
Anne. These two had completed the group and he had hated
them all. Perhaps he hated Tanya and Anne even more because
they were only part of that group when they wanted to be;
when it suited them. They were bloodsuckers, vultures that
picked out the perfect men to take care of them. 

But now he would have to wait for a while. First there
would be Moira because she had screwed up his plans. And
she would not suspect the danger until it was too late. 

That was the beauty of it. All these women, living in the
Oakland area and enjoying the wealth their husbands paid
for, came to his stables for riding lessons. They hardly
remembered him from their pasts. They had forgotten all
about the jokes and the laughter because it had been twelve
years. They had moved on and had not remembered how they
had messed up his sanity. 

But he remembered. And they remembered too when he
strangled them. 

"Stephen?" A knock on the door startled him and he looked
up from behind the wooden desk of his office. Moira came in
smiling. 

"I never thought I would see you here again, Moira," he
said. 

"Neither did I," she answered with a smile. 


Monday evening - Garrett County Hospital Maryland

The day ended up being long and exhausting but Mulder
would not give in. During the process of recovery he had
insisted on going through his own notes again, just to find
the trigger that would send him back a week in time. 

He read his own handwriting and printouts and his name was
on the documents he had in his hands, but he couldn't
remember putting those words down on paper. The events
leading up to this point in time were gone. He had but
Scully's explanations to go on and they meant nothing to
him. She might have been talking about a stranger. 

About a week ago, they had been contacted by Davis to ask
them to do this case. He had no one available on short
notice. They had immediately taken on the case, as it had
been already discussed with Skinner. 

The next few days they had gone through the lists of names
of possible suspects and people that might have been
involved with the women. Carefully Mulder scrolled through
all the information he had gathered with Scully and
listened to her reactions. 

"Did we have a suspect, Scully?" he finally asked, tired
of listening to the explanations. 

"No," she admitted. "Not yet. To be honest we could only
rely on your suspicion that Felicity would be the next
victim. And your profile clearly stated that she must have
known the killer even though she probably hadn't put all
the pieces together." 

"Did she give us possible names of people she had a bad
relationship with?"

"No, she claimed that she had no quarrels with anyone and
had no idea who might have harmed her friends. Felicity
Green was a saint, at least according to her own statement.
But you said to me that you believed she was lying about
something or hiding something important." 

"It's too late to ask her of course," Mulder frowned.
"What about her relatives?"

"We contacted them after your disappearance and urged them
to help us with anything that might be of assistance. We
also got a list of her pastimes and hobbies. She didn't
work; neither did the other women by the way. They spent
their time at the Mayfield Country Club and exercising;
hobbies of no significance. They didn't believe in
charities, I suppose." 

"What about Felicity's husband?" 

"She got a divorce. I'm not sure if you remember but her
ex-husband was supplying all the money that comes her way.
She called it payment for four years of hell."

"Is he a suspect?"

"He could have been if he was in the country. He lives in
Hong Kong where he runs a successful business."

"Could he have hired someone to do the job?"

"Perhaps," Scully said, "but that wouldn't clarify the
other deaths. We did check his bank statements though
because you suggested the same thing a week ago." She
smiled. "It's good to see this blow to your head didn't
mess up your mind too much. You're still thinking the same
way."

He smiled absently; refusing to listen to the fatigue his
body was feeling. In the afternoon the last tubes and wires
had been removed, except for the IV that fed him
antibiotics. He couldn't help but wince every time he
looked at the IV bag, remembering that strong man's hands
on him, and the strange scent that came with him. He
couldn't put his finger on it but he had smelled that scent
before, not so very long ago. It had a major significance
to the case. 

"Basically," Scully continued, "all husbands are in the
clear. Their alibis checked out and they had no reason to
kill their wives. We've spoken to Wendy's husband and he
was very upset when we tried to figure out his involvement.
Of course he already had a lover but that doesn't mean he
murdered his wife. In fact, most of them in that circle of
friends said that it was normal to have someone on the
side. So adultery is most likely not the reason for these
murders." 

"And we were very certain the murders were done by the
same guy?"

"Definitely. The details of the murders were not given to
the press so it had to be the same killer since he used the
exact same means every single time." 

"Okay," Mulder said slowly as he read his notes. "What
about those hobbies of theirs?" 

Scully glanced at the map. "Aerobics, jogging, horseback
riding and of course the country club." 

"They all did the same?"

"Yes. We never knew the other two murdered women but the
sheriff said they were basically triplets. Every time you
saw one of them, the other two were around. They had been
friends since the age of ten and had vowed to grow old
together." 

"Seems that won't happen," Mulder muttered as he put down
the file and wondered about three women who seemed to have
lost their personalities in an attempt to look the same and
act the same. He had placed the three photos together and
flashes of earlier memories came back where he had done the
same, remarking to Scully that they might have been
sisters. They even married the same type of man, but
Felicity was the only one with a divorce behind her. 

"Did we question their instructors and tutors about their
habits?"

"We did," Scully said, pointing at a paragraph in the file
that she had typed up. "They spent a lot of time at the
same fitness and aerobics club and we questioned the owner
and instructors. They said they hadn't seen anything out of
the ordinary over the past couple of weeks, even though
Wendy had remarked once that a guy was coming on to her and
she had told him off. We couldn't find out who that was.
Felicity said she didn't know about it."

"Horseback riding?" Mulder asked as his finger stopped at
the words printed on paper. 

"Yes. Stephen Willis owns a ranch at the outskirts of
town, at the foot of the mountain range where you were
found. He's in his thirties and has gone to the same
college and high school as these girls."

"Is he a suspect?"

"Not at this time. We did question him as well. I remember
you asking him a lot of questions about horseback riding,
as if you were interested in taking up classes. He was a
nervous guy, a loner. He didn't like our questions but he
didn't kick us out either. The sheriff said he's been
living on his own since graduation. When his father died he
inherited the money to set up the ranch but he's doing it
for a hobby. He has a couple of major investments going
that bring in enough to live on."

"Anything out of the ordinary about him?"

"He said that he didn't know the girls. He was not in
their reach. They were moving around in different circles
and even money couldn't help him with that. By the looks of
him he wasn't their type." 

"Do you think he might have had reasons to kill them?"

"No. The sheriff described him as everybody's friend. He
knows everyone and everyone knows him. He doesn't have
quarrels with anyone and it's no surprise those women took
up classes at his ranch. His is the only one in miles. He
has a lot of people that visit the ranch daily. He takes
care of the stables with four stable boys that he pays too
much." 

"What is your impression then of him?"

"I'd say he's harmless. He didn't have an alibi though. He
spends every night at home, at the ranch. No one ever comes
there at night because it's so isolated." 

"Did they question him after they found me?"

"Not that I know of," Scully said. 

"But he might have seen something."

"According to Eric he was very surprised when we found
you. He hadn't heard or seen anything. He claimed that
quarry you were found was abandoned and hardly known by
anyone."

Mulder frowned as he listened to Scully. There was
something there he couldn't place a finger on like an alarm
going off in his head. He closed his eyes and sighed as he
put down the file. The letters were dancing before his
eyes. He couldn't go further. 

"I'm sorry, Mulder," his partner said as she took away the
file and put it on the table. "You need to rest. I keep on
forgetting how sick you've been." 

"No," he said, grabbing her hand before she pulled it
away. "My fault. Just give me a bit of time and it'll get
better."

"Why don't we call it a night?" she said, closing the
file. "Besides, the nurse will be here with your dinner
soon."

"Great," he sighed, tired, "more pudding." 

Scully smiled. "If you eat it like a good boy, you might
even get toast and jam in the morning."

"That sounds like the best breakfast I ever had," Mulder
grinned wryly. "Why don't you go and let Eric buy you a
proper dinner, Scully?"

"I was actually planning on staying here with you."

"Why? You exhausted me so much I'll be sleeping like a
baby." 

Scully smiled. The thought of a decent meal sounded too
appealing. After a knock on the door Eric entered the room
as if he had heard Mulder's words. "Good thing you're
here," Mulder said, inviting him further in. "What are your
plans for tonight?"

"I was actually going to ask Scully to have dinner with
me," the other profiler said surprised, "that is, if you
don't mind Mulder."

Mulder ignored Scully's quasi-angry look towards him and
said, "Of course I don't mind. I'll pay for it." 

"Not a chance," Eric said, "besides, my sister is cooking
and I guarantee you that her food tastes better than
anything you'll eat in town."

"I don't want you to go to so much trouble," Scully
hesitated, "it's very kind of you to offer but--"

"You're not going to decline this offer, Agent Scully,"
Mulder said strict, "besides, I'm sure Tom has been invited
as well, right Eric?"

"Of course," Eric said with an apologetic look to Mulder.
"I wish you could come too." 

Mulder smiled and pointed at the bed on which he lay.
"This thing has got wheels. Nothing can stop you from
pushing me out of here."

"Except for a certain Dr. Scully," Eric remarked who had
visions of him wheeling Mulder's bed outside with a
shouting Scully after them. The thought made him laugh. 

"Okay then," Scully sighed, "how can I resist this offer?" 

"Good girl, Scully," Mulder said, patting her on the back
of her hand.

A nurse walked in with a small dinner tray and looked at
the two visitors. "Agent Mulder needs to eat and rest, if
you don't mind," she said. 

"We got the message," Eric said, saying goodbye to Mulder.
Reluctant to leave, Scully leaned over to kiss her partner. 

He smiled and whispered, "Let yourself be spoiled, Scully.
And don't worry about me. That guard is still standing
outside, isn't he?"

"You know me too well, Mulder," she whispered and turned
her back even more reluctantly. Before long Mulder was
alone in his room, 'enjoying' the pudding the nurse had
left. At least this time he could eat it by himself. 

His eyes caught the file that Scully had left on the
table. She had planned on taking it with her but had
probably forgotten it when Eric walked in. He pushed aside
the tray and stretched out his fingers so that he could
touch the side of the table. With effort he pulled the file
closer. His side hurt where the stitches reminded him of
the small operation that had stopped the internal bleeding.
Exhausted he put the file on his lap and opened it again
with his left hand while his right arm rested in its heavy
cast. 

He should be sleeping but his mind was too alert. The
fatigue he had felt earlier was over. He lifted the remote
control out of the small table and turned on the
television, switching channels until he found something
suitable. "No adult Discovery Channel," he muttered under
his breath as he turned on the Fox Network and started
reading again, this time with Scully's answers to his
questions in the back of his mind. 

At the end he did fall asleep with the file still on his
lap and the Fox Network showing a rerun of Ally McBeal.

Part 3


Monday evening - near Oakland, Maryland

Scully felt immediately at home in the comfortable,
spacious residence of Moira Summers, widow. There were a
few pictures of her late husband but nothing made the house
a shrine for the dead. The rooms were decorated very modern
with exclusive furniture that still felt homey. Scully
liked it, as she did the host.

Moira was already working in the kitchen when they
arrived. Tom was there to keep her company. From the
hallway the two could be heard laughing and joking and
Scully noticed a change in her brother, a flare of hope
perhaps that his sister was finally getting over her
husband's death. In the car he had told her what had
happened. 

"Seems like you're having fun," Eric said as they walked
in. Moira looked up, a tad of flour on her nose. She was
baking fresh bread.

"Welcome, Agent Scully," she said, offering her hand after
she had wiped it off on a towel. "We haven't met under the
right circumstances, I know, but I'm hoping to make up for
that with this dinner."

Scully smiled. "Please call me Dana. And you didn't need
to do this."

Moira smiled. "If there's one thing I do well, it's
cooking. Unfortunately I never get the chance to do that
anymore since my brother is always off to some town without
spending his vacation with his old, boring sister."

Eric opened his mouth to object but received a friendly
punch from his 'boring sister'. "I've prepared a simple
meal. Don't let Eric tell you I'm a good cook. I just love
to take care of people." 

Scully wondered why Moira never had children. She looked
like the perfect combination between a businesswoman and
mother, yet according to Eric she had never worked. The
woman had class; that much was obvious. The connection
seemed to be mutual. They clicked. 

Tom sat down and looked a few times apologetically at
Eric, as if they had already done 'the wild thing' and he
was apologizing for it. It was obvious there was something
hanging in the air. When they sat down for roast, baked
potatoes and enough fresh vegetables to feed an army,
Scully ached for Mulder. She regretted that he wasn't
there, and that she was enjoying this dinner while he still
lay in hospital. She vowed to return to see him. She knew
she could not rest until she knew he was going to have a
restful night. 

After dinner Moira served coffee and chocolates and put
all the dishes in the washer with Scully's help. The two
men sat together in the living room. Moira blushed when she
glanced at Tom and then smiled when Scully noticed it.

"Am I crazy in thinking that I still might have a chance
for a new romance, Dana?" 

"Why shouldn't you have one?" Scully said as she cleaned
the table. "You're still young and you're attractive.
Besides, Tom is a fantastic guy. I think the interest is
mutual." 

"Do you really?" Moira said as she closed the dishwasher.
"I don't know, I feel like I'm acting like a twenty-year-
old. I'm actually looking forward to seeing him again. And
a big part of me doesn't want him to go home tonight." 

"I know how you feel," Scully said. "I mean, I know what
it's like to want someone so badly that it aches." 

Moira smiled and poured the remainder of the coffee down
the sink. "What about you?" she asked. "Are you seeing
someone?"

Scully hesitated before she put down the towel. Moira
watched her as she struggled with her feelings. It seemed
that part of her was willing to admit there was someone
more special in her life. Yet at the same time it was as if
the female agent wasn't ready to face that this could not
be a normal relationship.

"Did I say something wrong?" Moira asked. 

"No," Scully attempted to smile as she stared at her
hands, refusing to look at Moira. "I'm sorry, it's just
that I'm not really sure what kind of relationship I have." 

"With Agent Mulder?" 

Scully smiled. "Is it that obvious?"

"It is to a woman that saw how anxious you were when he
got hurt. Eric told me you refused to go to a hotel and
insisted on staying with him. That goes beyond the call of
duty, does it not? Or am I wrong about that?" 

Scully looked up. Her eyes looked very sad, Moira thought.
The agent opened her mouth again to speak but found that
she couldn't. Even though she wanted to trust in this
woman, she couldn't. She was still in self-protection mode,
not able to share with anyone.

"It's difficult," she finally said weakly. "It always has
been and it always will."

"Because of your work together? Or because you refuse to
let your professional side interfere with your personal
side?" 

"I'm not sure if I'm ready to discuss this," Scully said,
trying to make a stop to the discussion before it went too
far. Moira felt the brick wall she was standing before and
returned her attention to the empty coffee pot. 

Scully walked back to the living room where Eric and Tom
were talking. "I'm sorry," she said, "I'm heading back to
the hotel."

"Is everything okay?" Eric asked, surprised by the sudden
change in Scully. Before the agent seemed to be enjoying
herself. Now there was a tension in the air that could not
go away. 

"Yeah, I'm just very tired." Scully put on her jacket,
turned to Moira and thanked her for the meal. The agent
nearly fled the house, saying hasty goodbyes to everyone
before she closed the door behind her. Then she quickly got
in her car and took off.

"What happened, sis?" Eric asked curiously. 

"Guess I struck the wrong chord," Moira said, regretting
that she had asked too many questions. She had scared
Scully off. She smiled towards her brother and Tom and
called it a night. A few moments later they parted.

In her bedroom Moira brushed her hair, sitting before the
mirror. Her thoughts were a mile away as she remembered
every bit of the night. It had been such a good evening.
Everything just seemed to work out, she thought, and yet
that same sense of guilt was still there, as if she was
enjoying herself at someone else's expense. 

Tired she put the brush down and slid into bed while the
open curtains allowed the moonlight in. 


Monday night - near Oakland, Maryland

He watched her through the open window of her bedroom. She
had undressed and removed her make-up. In her silk
nightgown, she had brushed her hair. She had sat there for
a long time before finally going to bed. She had switched
out the lights and only then he had moved forward to take a
closer look.

He didn't attempt to move again. In the afternoon she
would come back voluntarily to him and then he would decide
if he would kill her next or not. She was perfect. But he
wanted to be sure that the rush would be good enough and
that she would be the suited victim. 

With all the others he had hatred to fill his mind when he
killed them. With this woman he shared admiration and
perhaps even love. Would that be enough for him to kill
her? 

He retreated from the window and walked towards the jeep
he had parked at the end of the quiet street. A car started
up. For a second his face was lit. Then the street became
quiet again as the car drove off. He got into the jeep and
drove off as well. 


Monday evening - Garrett County Hospital Maryland

Scully opened the door and smiled. The sound of the TV
droned in the room. His lullaby. She walked in and watched
him. The way he slept always made her smile. He moved
slightly in his sleep. His left hand rested on top of a
stack of papers on his belly and torso. 

She walked in and picked up the papers, gently removing
them from underneath his hand. He grimaced in his sleep as
if he was in pain, even while sleeping. He opened his mouth
slightly as if he wanted to say something and then his left
hand went up as if to defend himself. 

She didn't move or disturb his sleep. Then he just turned
his head away from her and slept again, subconsciously
protecting his hurt right arm. Scully turned off the
television and closed the door behind her. The guard nodded
towards her and continued to read his magazine. 

Fifteen minutes later Scully entered her hotel room and
removed her clothing. She was too tired to bathe and remove
her make-up. That would have to wait until the morning. A
short time later she was asleep.

The night finally scattered its blanket over the world, as
a foreboding of a difficult day to come. 


Tuesday morning - Garrett County Hospital Maryland

Mulder closed his eyes and made funny little sounds while
eating his toast and jam. Scully couldn't help but laugh
out loud while watching him.

"Seriously, Mulder, you should do commercials. The way
you're eating that toast would make billions." 

He opened his eyes and spoke with full mouth, "Hey, I
haven't eaten properly for days. Allow me this little bit
of pleasure, will you? Now tell me, have you seen that
doctor of mine yet today?"

"For goodness sake, it's eight in the morning. He doesn't
come in before ten. Besides, don't even think that he's
going to allow your release today. He spoke about at least
two more days." 

"Fine, then I'll solve the case from this bed," he said. 

"Solve?" Scully smiled. "So you did find something in
those files yesterday, didn't you?" 

He looked innocently at her. "What files?"

"The ones that you fell asleep with, remember?" 

"How do you know about--?" 

Scully smiled. "I'm a spy. I popped in last night and
found you asleep. Now then, what was it you wanted to tell
me?" 

"It's more like a hunch than anything else," Mulder said,
savoring the taste of simple toast and jam. He regretted
that his breakfast was already finished. His poor, underfed
stomach was begging for more, but he knew he would have to
wait for lunch now. "There's this thing in the back of my
mind that is the key to all of this. I've tried to go
through these files to remember the meetings with the
witnesses and the talks we had with Felicity Green. But
it's not coming back. To be honest, I think that we cannot
wait for my memory to return. It can happen at any time, I
suppose, but it can also take days or weeks." 

"So what is this thing bugging you then?" Scully asked
curiously. "Last night Eric told me that not one single
statement in our file could lead him to one potential
suspect. He was even proposing a random kill scenario." 

"Too many coincidences for that. But in a way he is right,
too. I believe our killer is murdering for a reason that is
not known to his victims. I'm more and more convinced that
he has a past with them that they might have forgotten
about. It's looking for a needle in a haystack, Scully.
People can get agitated for the slightest little thing.
This killer's hatred had been triggered earlier, probably
during high school or right after. This is the act of a man
that never got to deal with his feelings in the right way
and is looking for a means to express his anger." 

Scully listened without arguing. "You still haven't told
me." 

He smiled. "There's a scent. I sensed it before when that
guy entered this room. I've smelled it before the attack
too. It's the only thing that I remember."

"You mentioned this before. But what kind of scent is it?"

"I don't know. It has to do with animals. It's a strange
smell, like when you're near someone that has been around
animals too much. At least, that's how I remember it. I
would recognize that smell anywhere." 

"So how are you going to recognize it?" 

Mulder smiled. "That's something I haven't determined just
yet. Any ideas?" 

"None whatsoever," Scully responded, "but according to
you, we need to talk to someone who works with animals." 

"Someone like Stephen Willis."

"The stable owner?" 

"He has all our murderer criteria. He went to their high
school and college, he knew them, and he gave them riding
lessons. And he's the only one on our list that works with
animals." 

"Do you want to arrest him on that basis?" 

"Why not? It's better than anything else we've got so far.
Besides, if I see him, I might remember. It's worth
questioning him about it." 

"I guess so," Scully admitted. "But if you're wrong, we
will have the entire town on our backs. And if we have no
evidence, he's walking." 

"We can't let him walk knowing he might be the one, can we?"

Scully sat down. "Why not? We can catch him in the act. At
least then we'll be able to find the evidence that we
need." 

Mulder couldn't help but frown. "I'm pretty sure we've had
this conversation before, Scully. And it didn't end up the
way it should have. Didn't we agree on watching Felicity
Green as well?" 

"But this time we'll be more prepared." 

"And you're basing the list of potential victims on the
list of high school friends of the three murdered women?"

"Do you have a better idea?" Scully asked. 

"No." Mulder glanced at the two names. "Tanya McKinsey and
Anne Harris. You do realize Scully, that we are taking big
risks if we do this." 

"Yeah," Scully said, "that's why I'm going to ask Eric and
Tom to help us out. They can watch those two women while we
check out Stephen Willis." 

"We?" Mulder smiled. "I thought I had to stay here?"

"You're staying put," his partner said, "but if Mohammed
can't come to the mountain, I'm sending the mountain to
Mohammed." 

"What are you going to do then?"

She smiled as she walked out. "I think I'm going to take a
few riding classes." 

Somehow that didn't really assure Mulder.


Tuesday afternoon - Allegheny Front Mountain Range, Maryland

 If there was one thing to say about Stephen, it was that
he was right about the horses. Blue Velvet had been too
rough on Moira, but Little Daisy was just perfect. The
horse wasn't as sweet as she sounded and she wasn't a
beginner's horse either. Her spirit and temper fitted Moira
just fine.

Relaxed and happy she returned the horse to the stables
where Willis waited for her. This time he hadn't ridden
along with her. He was planning to but he got a call around
two and had changed his mind. When she took off, she had
seen Scully's car driving up the lane towards the ranch. 

I wonder what that was all about; Moira thought as she
returned the horse to the stable boy and got showered and
changed. When she returned, Willis seemed agitated and
nearly angry.

"What's wrong, Stephen?" she said as she entered his
office to pay for the next few lessons, "can I help?"

He looked up and blinked his eyelids as if he hadn't
recognized her at first. "No," he said, "not really." 

"Can we agree on the next class?" He didn't smile. "I
guess I owe you a lesson. I should have been there with you
but at least this time you didn't fall, did you?" His voice
sounded absent-minded and he hardly looked at her as he
returned to his books. Moira looked down and noticed
scribbles on a page where there were supposed to be numbers
and results. 

"You don't owe me anything, Stephen," she said, "Let's
just set up the next class." 

Willis shivered when he grabbed his agenda and set up a
new date. The next class would occur three days later. When
she planned to leave, Willis stopped her. "Wait, I'm sorry.
My mind is worrying about other things. I fear I might be
in trouble."

"In trouble? How so?"

His eyes examined her curious glance. He looked sharply at
her, wondering if she already knew what was going on. Her
brother, after all, was an FBI agent too. That much he had
seen when she showed up with him that night to find the
other agent up the mountain.

"I believe the FBI thinks I have something to do with that
FBI agent's disappearance."

"Really? Why?" Moira asked surprised, "Why?"

"I don't know. That woman showed up again. She had been
here before with the other agent. They questioned me about
those women, but I couldn't say much. They just came here
for their riding lessons, you know. But now she came back
and asked me if I was sure I hadn't seen anything or heard
anything since I'm the only one living here." 

"That doesn't mean they believe you were involved,
Stephen. Besides, that's absurd. Agent Scully is bound to
ask such questions. It's her job. If they would suspect
anyone they questioned, I would be a suspect too," Moira
tried to assure him. 

"You think?" Willis' eyes pierced into hers. "I wonder ..."

"About what?"

"About their suspects. I wonder who they're going after."

"As far as I know, no one at this time," Moira blurted
out, "At least, that's what Agent Scully said last night." 

"You saw her last night?" Willis glared angrily at her. 

"Yeah, I invited her to dinner. She's a very nice woman,
and I like her a lot. I'm hoping to be friends with her." 

"And she didn't say I was a suspect?"

"Of course not. They're covering all the bases, Stephen.
Don't worry too much about it. You've got nothing to hide."

Willis' eyes pierced even deeper into hers. Moira felt
uncomfortable, wondering if she had said too much. She
pulled her jacket closer over her cold body. "I have to go.
Was there anything else you wanted to say, Stephen?" 

"No," he said, "I'll see you later, Moira. I have to go
too. I'm going to see an old friend." 

"Have fun then," she smiled awkwardly and walked out of
the office.

When she left, Willis got up and watched her from behind
the safety of the window. A mixture of emotions rushed
through his mind. He couldn't take Moira now. It would be
too obvious and they would go after him with full force.

His thoughts returned to Tanya, his original target. He
felt hatred surge through his body as he thought of her.
She was the one he should take on, just like he had wanted
to days ago. He had wasted too much time doing nothing
anyhow. Tonight he would go over to her house and kill her. 

He smiled as the thought of cutting Tanya's throat right
after she pleaded for her life aroused him. Finally she
would pay the attention to him he deserved. He reached for
the locker behind him and pulled out a piece of piano wire
that he had put there for Moira. With care he rolled it up
and tucked it into his pocket. He could feel the metal
slide against his leg and rubbed the sweat off the palms of
his hands. 

It was after six and already the storm was building up
again. The wind was whistling its tune through the roof. He
always enjoyed that sound. He stopped to hear it before
returning to the house. He would shower and get changed
into his best clothes. Already the fear of getting caught
was over. The rush returned, making him more eager than
ever to deal with his anger.


Tuesday evening - Garrett County Hospital Maryland

Scully walked in, finding her partner on his feet with the
help of a nurse. She supported his left arm. Mulder grinned
as he lifted his right arm and said to Scully, "Look, a new
cast." 

"Great," Scully smiled. "Did you see the doctor?"

"If this keeps up, I'll be out of here tomorrow night. I
just have to do my little exercises with Nurse Lovely
here." The young nurse blushed as she tried to keep her
attention on the man she was supporting while they made
their way through the room. Mulder felt sore and ready to
fall apart, but every step surged new life through his
system. He was finally up and about and walking around.
That was worth the pain. 

"Did it work?" he asked as the nurse helped him to the
bed. Tired, he put his feet back up. Scully pulled the
blankets up and handed him a glass of water. Gratefully he
drank and smiled. "If I keep this up I'll be running again
in two days." 

"I'm sure your doctor told you not to overdo it. Besides,
the moment you're out of here, I'm taking you back to
Washington for a few weeks off." 

Mulder opened his mouth to protest but the Scullyglare
stopped him in his tracks. "Yes, Mom," he said calmly and
the nurse laughed as she walked out. "So, did it work?" he
repeated as he scowled at his immobilized right arm. 

"I scared him, that's for sure. And I brought you a piece
of clothing." Scully rummaged through her bag until she
discovered her smelly treasure. "Believe me, it wasn't easy
stealing this shirt. The moment he saw me coming he was
very protective and hardly left me alone. But you know I
can do magic tricks." 

He smiled. "I didn't doubt you for a moment. Let me smell." 

Scully placed the dirty T-shirt she had snatched from the
stables into Mulder's left hand and lifted her nose. "If
this doesn't trigger your memory, I don't know what will.
It smells horrible."

"You're a city girl, Agent Scully," Mulder remarked as he
brought the shirt to his nose and smelled it. He put it
down. "That's not it." 

"Are you sure?" Scully asked surprised. Before Mulder had
been certain that this would trigger his memory but now he
just put it down, convinced that it wasn't. "What's going
on, Mulder?" 

"It's not the smell," he said. "I could have sworn that it
was, but--"

"You mean I might have scared off Willis for no reason?" 

"Perhaps." A knock on the door startled both agents. Moira
Summers stepped in and smiled awkwardly. "I hope I'm not
interrupting anything?" 

"Of course not," Scully said, "Come in, Moira." 

Mulder looked at the woman who had saved his life and
offered his left hand. "Miss Summers," he said, "I finally
get to thank you. I'm sorry I can't shake hands with you
properly though, but you have to pardon my right arm." 

She smiled and accepted his left hand. "I'm glad that we
finally get to meet, Agent Mulder. And you're looking much
better than the last time I saw you." 

"Agent Scully told me what you did for me. I'll never be
able to repay that," Mulder said. "Please, have a seat." 

Moira took a seat next to the bed. Scully sat down on the
other side and watched Moira, wondering whether she should
apologize for last night's behavior. She had practically
run out of her home without good reason. But Moira smiled
reassuringly as if to tell her that it necessary at all.

"My brother said that you're still working on the case. Do
you have any suspects yet?" 

"The problem is that the truth lies in my brain," Mulder
said. "I can't remember what happened but I feel that I
knew who the killer is. So as long as that memory doesn't
come back, we'll have to rely on old fashioned police work,
I'm afraid." The agent closed his eyes and turned his head
towards Moira. "That smell. I know that smell." 

"What?" Surprised Moira stared at Scully. "What are you
talking about?" 

Mulder opened his eyes. "Where do you come from? I mean,
where have you been just before you came here." 

"I went horseback riding. That's in fact why I came over.
I saw Agent Scully at the stables and asked Stephen Willis
about it. He practically freaked out, believing that you
came over to accuse him. He scared me." 

"Horseback riding?" Mulder asked, "and you showered and
got changed?"

"Yeah, at the stables, like I always do. Stephen arranged
for a locker room and showers. I use that every time.
There's soap and shampoo and all that. He takes care of
us." 

"That's it," Mulder said. "That smell. You have it on you
but very faint. I have to strain myself to sense it. It's
soap combined with the smell of animals. But Willis has it
strongly on him. I told you before Scully, that you always
carry the smell of your pets on you. With horses it's just
the same. Willis' lives with horses; there's no way he can
get rid of that smell."

Scully raised herself out of the chair. "You're sure?" 

"Yeah, I am." Mulder blinked as a million thoughts rushed
through his mind. Suddenly the memories of the past few
days returned and he found himself inside the apartment,
with Felicity Green. And Felicity had been crying. He found
her there and she cried because she was afraid. 

It all became so clear now. He was at the apartment to
protect her and she cried, telling him she didn't even know
why she was going to die. She had been so certain that she
would not live through the night. It was a sense she had
upon her when she woke up that morning. Her friends were
gone and she was next. She just knew it. 

"It was punishment," she had said. 

"Punishment?" Mulder had asked. "For what?"

She couldn't give a straight answer. She didn't even know
what she was on about. She just said that in the past there
had been people that she resented and taunted. And now she
was going to die without any friends or people that cared
about her. It was her punishment for doing the wrong thing.
Then she had smiled and said that Stephen Willis was her
only friend now, despite the way she had treated him in the
past. 

"Willis?" Mulder had asked. 

She had said that he had offered to stay with her and she
had talked about her feelings with him. They had gotten
reacquainted and he had said that he would do anything for
her. But when he had offered to come over for the night,
she had declined. He had not been upset. He had just turned
around and taken off, just before Mulder came over. 

Mulder had asked her why she had taunted Willis in the
past. She had said it was part of the game; the game of
being popular and belonging. She had set up the rules and
lived by them. The others had too. They were high school
games yet they determined the progression of their lives. 

It had taken Mulder ages to calm her down and just as he
grabbed his cell phone to ask Scully to question Willis
once again, footsteps could be heard on the stairs, after
the doorbell rang. There was a knock on the door and a
voice calling out her name.

"Felicity?" Willis had said. He had tried the door again.

Felicity had shared a scared look with Mulder. The
realization struck her as Mulder pulled out his gun and
called out for Willis, saying that he knew who he was. The
agent had walked over to the door, ready to pull it open
and surprise Willis. 

They didn't know Willis had a gun. They couldn't have
known he had taken it as a precaution, even though he had
planned on killing her with the piano wire. And Willis
didn't know there was an FBI agent by her side, ready to
protect her at any cost. 

And so Willis freaked out and shot through the door,
hitting the agent twice. And when he barged through the
door, he ignored the nearly unconscious agent on the floor
and strangled Felicity with the piano wire, even though she
pleaded for her life. 

When she died, she died knowing that she had only herself
to blame for his hatred. 

And Mulder had passed out with that scent embedded in his
nostrils. 

"Mulder?" Scully asked, "What is it?"

"I remember," he said. "It's Willis. It's all back. I'm
certain of it." 

The agent pushed the blankets aside and shifted his long
legs out of the bed. "We have to get him now, before he
kills another one." 

"Wait," Scully said, pushing him back to the bed, "you're
not going anywhere. We'll arrest him. I'll contact the
sheriff's department immediately." 

Moira sat shocked on her chair. "Willis wouldn't do this.
Would he? I've known him for years. He's an innocent man.
He couldn't have--" Then she stopped and remembered how he
had reacted after Scully's visit. He had acted like a
guilty man that tried to wiggle his way out of things. 

Scully got on the phone and called the sheriff's
department, explaining they had a positive ID. They had to
work fast now. If Willis was at home, they could have him
in custody within half an hour. But if he wasn't at home,
they could only guess where he would be.

"He said he was going to see an old friend," Moira
muttered. "Oh my God, he wouldn't go after another one
tonight, would he?"

"Warn Eric and Tom," Mulder said, as he moved to the
closet where the clothes Scully had brought with her a few
days ago hung. 

"You're not going anywhere, Mulder," Scully said, still on
the phone. "We are handling this." 

Frustrated Mulder glanced at her. "He tried to kill me
too, Scully. I have the right to see him arrested." 

"Yes, you do, but you'll only be in our way when we go get
him. You know that. You can barely stand on your feet. If
you want to be released tomorrow night, you have to rest
tonight and you know it."

Even more frustrated, Mulder allowed Scully to pull the
pants out of his hand. Still on the phone she and Moira
helped him back into bed. Moira who didn't know how to act.
The woman could hardly believe it. Willis had been a
friend. At least, that's what she thought. If Mulder was
right about this, she didn't think she could ever trust
anyone again.

"Eric's been warned," Scully said after waiting on the
phone for ten minutes. "He's getting backup. The ranch is
empty. He's gone."

"What about Tom?" Moira asked tense. 

"I'm still trying to get in touch with him but the storm
is messing with the phone lines. The sheriff's driving up
there right now but I want to go too." Scully seemed angry
and upset. "Damn it, Mulder. I should have arrested him
this afternoon. I should have gone on your hunch and simply
booked the guy."

"You know we didn't have valid reason to do so before,"
Mulder said. "But we do now and that's what we have to
focus on." 

Scully tried Tom's cell phone again and hung up frustrated
after a while. "I can't get in touch with him. I'm going
over there. The sheriff's on his way too." 

"I'll stay with Agent Mulder, if that's all right," Moira
said. "I - I need to know." 

Scully nodded, grateful that someone was there to stop
Mulder, should he decide to do some investigating on his
own. "I'll call you as soon as I know anything, okay?" 

"Okay." 

Scully left in a hurry, leaving Mulder and Moira in his
room. Moira knew how upset the agent was and said quietly,
"They'll find him, Agent Mulder. Everyone will be fine."

"I know," he said, attempting to smile. "It's going to be
fine." 


Tuesday evening - near Oakland Maryland

"What is it?" Tanya McKinsey asked, worried as Tom pulled
out his gun for a safety walk through the house. Even
though all the doors and windows were locked, the agent
wanted to be sure. After the strange phone call with
Scully, that had been broken off when the phone went dead,
the agent felt worried. Before, everything had been quiet
at the house, but now it seemed as if danger was lurking
around every corner. 

"I just want to make sure we're going to be fine,"
Fielding said, trying to stay as calm as possible. 

"Can't we just get out of here?" 

"Inside we'll be better off," Tom said as Tanya crept
after him while he walked through the house. "Besides, I'm
sure it's nothing. It'll be fine." 

With the gun in his hand, Tom closed the curtains of the
living room and sat down again. The phones were dead and
the storm was breaking. In a few minutes they could sit
here without electricity. But they couldn't leave the
house. It would make them too much of a target. 

Suddenly two cars stepped before the house. Tom heard the
opening and closing of doors and rushed to the front door.
Through the glass he could see the sheriff and his
deputies. Relieved, he opened the door and said, "What's
going on?" 

Before the sheriff responded another car stopped nearby.
Scully got out and ran towards them. "It's Stephen Willis.
Mulder is certain." 

"Has he got his memory back?" Tom asked relieved. 

"Yes. With his testimony, our case is good enough to
arrest Willis. He's going down." Scully smiled reassuringly
towards Tanya McKinsey. "I think for tonight we might want
to transfer you to a safe house, Mrs. McKinsey, just to
make sure." 

Tanya McKinsey didn't object when the sheriff offered her
a ride in his car. "We've taken Anne to safety as well,"
the sheriff said. "I can only hope, Agent Scully, that
you're right about this."

"Agent Mulder made a positive ID," Scully said
conclusively, "Do you need more evidence than that?" 

"Stephen Willis has always been a respected member of this
community. He's worked hard all his life to get where is
now. Your accusations will not please the people in this
town." 

"The sooner you find Willis, the sooner he can prove he's
innocent," Scully said, "but I wouldn't get my hopes up too
high. You've got men at the ranch and others out looking
for him?"

"All bases have been covered, yes," the sheriff said. "But
that doesn't mean I'm believing you."

"Just find him," Scully said. "That's all I'm asking." 

Scully and Fielding returned to her car. "Where do you
think he is?" Fielding asked. "He probably knows by now
we're looking for him. The sheriff didn't exactly act
discreetly. We might have scared him off." 

"He can't go too far," Scully said. "If there's one thing
Mulder has taught me, it's that a serial killer never
stops. He's got issues to deal with and he'll work them out
until someone stops him." 

"Isn't Mulder one of these issues as well?" Tom asked. "If
he knows we're going after him, he might also know that
Mulder has regained his memories." 

Scully turned her glance towards the agent. "You don't
think--"

Fielding slid in behind the steering wheel. "Call the
hospital and warn them." 

Fear struck Scully's heart when she realized they hadn't
even gone through the possibility of Willis turning his
attention to Mulder again. There was still a guard outside
the room. But no one had really believed that the killer
would come back.

The worst thing was the knowledge that they might have
pushed Willis towards Mulder again in their attempts to
protect Tanya and Anne.

When the lightning struck the first time, Fielding turned
towards Scully and said that the phones were dead. And as
soon as he spoke, another strike darkened the town and made
it look dark and spooky. 

Fielding drove faster. 


Tuesday evening - near Garrett County Hospital Maryland

Willis cursed, knowing it was over. The moment he arrived
at Tanya's house and spotted the agent inside, he was
thrown back five days, to the moment he got to Felicity. It
had been exactly the same situation. 

But this time the cops arrived before he could even make a
move. It was as if they had known. They rushed up the porch
while he hid in the shadows between the trees and the house
and tried to catch what they were saying. He couldn't risk
staying here any longer. It was over. 

He heard his name a few times. Then he turned and hurried
to the jeep, parked in the darkness around the back. They
knew and he had nearly been caught. He could not go home
because they would wait for him there. He had nothing on
him but his wallet. He had no money on him and they knew
his jeep. How could he expect to stand a chance? 

Everyone would be looking for him. The country would be
turned upside down. Without any money he couldn't even go
abroad. They would block his accounts.

"Damn it," he muttered, realizing there was no one to
blame  for this but Agent Mulder. He had probably regained
his memory, releasing the dogs to hunt him down. Now he
would pay the price for his actions. But it wasn't over
yet. He still had his hatred. He still wanted to kill. 

Suddenly he stopped the jeep, and looked at the entrance
of the hospital. If they were all out there looking for
him, the guards would be inside, on the main floor. He
parked the car at the nearly empty lot, grabbed the gun he
had placed in the glove compartment during the ride, and
tucked it into his belt. 

"Payback time," he muttered as he left the jeep open on
the parking lot, knowing he would never see it again.


Tuesday evening - Garrett County Hospital Maryland

"Can I get you anything, Agent Mulder?" Moira asked,
trying to calm the agitated agent down. It was obvious he
wasn't in the mood for small talk, and her mind wasn't on
it either. All she wanted was Tom's safety.

The agent stared at the phone, wondering how long it would
take for it to ring. His fingers tapped on the phone. In
silence Moira watched as he finally picked it up to dial
Scully's cell. "It's dead," he said, listening. "Can you
try to reach her through the nurse's station?"

"Sure," Moira said. "What's the number?"

Mulder dictated it as Moira jotted it down on a piece of
paper. She opened the door and looked around. The guard was
gone. Perhaps he had gone to the bathroom. She rushed
through the corridor and reached the nurse's station just
as the lights blinked and went out. A second later, the
emergency lights jumped on. 

"Great," Moira said as a strange, uncomfortable sense came
over her. Something was wrong but she couldn't quite put
her finger on it. It was late at night, the corridors were
empty and the hospital seemed deserted. She didn't like the
solitude they were in.

Returning to his room she found Mulder standing up, going
through his things in the closet until he found his cell
phone. Frustrated he put the phone down again. The line was
just as dead.

"Let me talk to that guard," Mulder said. 

"He's not there." 

"What?" 

"Yeah, I think he went to the bathroom or something. He's
not there." 

"Something's wrong," Mulder said, taking his gun from the
closet. He could barely hold on to it as the weight felt
uncomfortable in his left hand. "Damn it," he muttered, not
able to turn the safety off. 

"Let me," Moira said, taking it out of his hand. She
clicked the safety off and held on to it. Surprised, Mulder
smiled, despite the situation he believed they were in. 

"My husband gave me shooting lessons," she explained. "I
can handle a weapon."

"Good, because you'll have to protect us both. Could you,
um... could you help me with my pants?" 

"Sure." Moira helped the agent to sit down again and
helped to slide the jeans over his legs. Standing, Mulder
tried to not to be embarrassed by the situation as Moira
buttoned him up and helped him put on a T-shirt. With the
small pair of scissors she kept in her purse, she cut open
the sleeve, supporting the agent's right arm. 

"Let's go," Mulder said, swaying on unsteady legs. Moira
didn't feel comfortable with the way the agent looked. But
she, too, felt that something was going on beyond their
control. No one would respond to the security button
because there was no one at the nurse's station. And the
guard was still gone. 

"The stairs," Mulder said, walking as fast as he could
towards the door. It was locked. "Elevator." Moira followed
and pushed the button. It wasn't working. 

"Try to find the guard," Mulder said. "Check the toilets." 

Moira rushed towards the men's room and opened it, finding
the man unconscious on the floor. He was bleeding from a
head wound and didn't move when she touched him. In the
ladies' room she found two unconscious nurses. 

"The emergency stairs," Mulder said, pointing to the
emergency exit signs. "We'll have to crawl through the
window and get out that way."

The doors lead to a small room with a large window. Moira
slid the window open and looked outside. They were on the
first floor and it wasn't too high, but she worried about
Mulder. He could barely stand up straight, let alone crawl
through the window and walk the slippery steps down. But
they knew they had no choice. 

At that moment the door behind them opened. "Mulder!"
Moira shouted as she pushed herself against it, bringing
the attacker outside off balance. They could hear stumbling
and then the noise subsided. They couldn't lock the door. 

"Get back!" Moira heard Mulder shout and with his left
hand he pushed her backwards until they were away from the
door as Willis tried to slam it open again. Desperately,
Mulder searched for something to block the door. The chair
he put under the doorknob would only keep Willis out for a
few moments. 

"Stephen!" Moira heard herself scream as she raised and
aimed the gun at the door. She didn't want to shoot but she
would if she had to. It stayed quiet behind the door. With
a flash Mulder was back at Felicity's apartment. He feared
that Willis would shoot again. Yet at the same time he
couldn't bring himself to push Moira into shooting him.

"Give me the gun and crawl through the window," Mulder
said. 

"You have to go first. You can't protect yourself. I can." 

"No, you go first." Mulder grabbed her by the arm and
nearly pushed her through the window. Moira felt the sleeve
of her right arm rip as she slid onto the staircase. Thick
raindrops fell on her. Within a few seconds she was soaked. 

"Come on, Mulder." Moira stretched out her hand and helped
Mulder slide through the window. That same moment Willis
burst through the door. The chair went tumbling through the
room. 

"Mulder!" Moira shouted as a gunshot went off and the
agent was pulled back into the room. Moira watched as
Willis slid his piano wire around the agent's neck, forcing
him to the floor. It was Mulder's gun that had gone off
while being knocked out of his left hand by Willis. 

"Shit," Moira muttered when the agent was pulled back in.
At the same moment a car stopped at the entrance of the
hospital. Moira turned and saw Scully and Tom. With a shout
she got the agents' attention. 

But inside the hospital, Willis and Mulder were fighting
to the death. 


Tuesday evening - Garrett County Hospital Maryland

It wasn't the first time a piano wire had tried to choke
the life out of him, Mulder thought ironically as he forced
the fingers of his left hand between the cord and his
throat. But last time he'd had the advantage of his
strength. Now he was too weak to fight for long.

"Stephen, stop it!" Moira shouted from inside the room.
She had forced herself back in, tearing skin off her right
arm in her attempt to access the hospital again. She had
picked up Mulder's gun off the floor and pointed it now at
Willis.

Stephen looked up, his fingers still holding on to the
piano wire. He was still pulling it.

"Let go!" she repeated and aimed the gun at the man's head. 

Stephen let go now and the wire fell to the floor. Mulder
took deep breaths, sucking for air. He opened his eyes,
trying to focus on the here and now. Willis' gun was still
stuck in his belt. Moira looked at it, knowing he would
only have to reach for it to kill her. And she couldn't
shoot Stephen. They both knew it.

"I'm sorry, Stephen," she said. "But if you don't move
away from Agent Mulder now, I'm sending a bullet through
your head. As much as I used to like you, I'm not going to
allow you to do this."

Stephen laughed cynically. "I'm sorry," he said. "Did I
understand you correctly? You liked me? You're a liar,
Moira, just like the rest of them. You're all liars." 

"Why would I lie?" 

"You hardly paid attention to me. None of you have. I was
the geek, the weirdo, the outcast. But you all
underestimated me, didn't you? You all believed that I was
an innocent little man with nothing to discuss but horses.
You were all wrong, weren't you?"

"They're coming for you, Stephen," Moira said quietly.
"They're worried about Agent Mulder and they're here to
protect him. They'll never allow you to do this to him."

"Why do you care so much?"

"I care about life. I don't want you to kill again." Moira
turned the gun away from him, lowering it slowly as her
hands felt damp and her body was tensed up. "Don't do this
to yourself or to us. Agent Mulder is just doing his job.
He shouldn't be punished for that." 

Willis looked down at Mulder who had slowly turned and was
now looking up to him, his eyelids blinking as if he had
difficulty staying conscious. A red line was clearly
visible where the piano wire had cut into his neck and
throat. 

"They'll punish me, you know," Stephen said softly as
Moira heard noises behind her. Tom had crawled through the
window, using the fire escape they had planned to use to
flee the hospital. Scully wasn't with him. 

"You've done bad things," Moira continued softly, knowing
that Tom was holding a gun at him. "They should punish you."

"But I was taunted by them. They were bad." Willis' voice
changed as if he was a sixteen-year-old again. "They
shouldn't have messed with me." 

Mulder crawled up, leaning heavily against the wall as his
left hand went up to support the back of his neck. He saw
red spots before his eyes. He could see Willis. The killer
stood in the middle of the room, his hand ready to lift out
his gun. 

"They were bad," Moira said. "But you shouldn't have done
this to them. If every one of us punishes another every
time something goes wrong, the world would be a living
hell. You don't want that, do you?"

Willis looked at Tom, who kept his gun on him. He knew it
was over. He didn't want to be here anymore. He didn't want
to go to prison. He just wanted to escape this world and
forget about everything. 

The man's hand reached for his gun so swiftly that they
hardly saw it coming. Moira screamed as Tom aimed his gun
at Willis' arm to put a bullet into it, like he had done to
Mulder. But at the same time Willis pulled out his weapon,
it went up to his temple and Tom realized he was planning
to end his own life. 

"No!" Moira screamed, realizing the same thing. Tom knew
he couldn't prevent it and as Moira rushed forward to stop
Willis, she blocked his aim. Moira stretched out her hand
to stop the suicide, knowing she, too, would be too late. 

But before Willis ended his own life, a hard push to the
back knocked him forward, dropping the gun as it went off
and the bullet slammed into the wall. Willis remained on
the floor with Scully on top of him, putting another gun to
his head this time. 

Quickly Tom cuffed him and pulled him up. Moira stood
frozen. Scully knelt down by Mulder's side and helped him
up, supporting him as he swayed on his legs. He looked at
her and smiled faintly, nodding that he was all right. 

Scully turned to Willis who had lost all resistance and
let himself be taken away by Tom.

"How did you get here?" Mulder groaned as his partner
returned him to his room. 

"The elevators worked again just as I arrived," she said.
"You guys were so busy with your little showdown you didn't
even notice me down the hall, did you?" 

Mulder smiled. 


Wednesday evening - near Oakland, Maryland

The mountains seemed peaceful and innocent as they rose
majestically over the small town. But Mulder didn't feel
like looking back and saying goodbye. He was just happy to
see the last of that hospital and to go home.

"We need to make a pit stop before driving back," Scully
said. 

"A pit stop?" 

"Yeah. You don't mind, do you?"

"Go ahead." 

Mulder watched as his partner drove to Moira Summers'
house where the others were waiting for them. Surprised the
agent got out and waited for Scully before walking up the
front porch. "Why are we here?" he asked. 

"Moira insisted on cooking you dinner," she smiled. "After
your wincing last night she couldn't help but prepare your
favorite food."

"My favorite food?" 

"Pizza. And she even has the adult channel if you're
interested." 

Mulder delivered a big grin. "She's single, right? I gotta
have me a woman like that, Scully." 

Scully laughed. "After last night I think that might have
changed. I think it's pretty obvious Tom's not going too
far. Besides, you already have a woman like that." 

"I do?" 

"I let you eat pizza and watch porn movies as well, don't
I?" 

"Yeah, but you still won't do my laundry." 

"If you keep this up, I'm moving in with you tomorrow and
I'll show you what a good woman is, Agent Mulder," Scully
said dryly. "And believe me, you don't really want that, do
you?" 

"I don't know," Mulder said. "I might just get lucky." 

When they walked together to the house, Scully grabbed her
partner's hand. Surprised, he allowed the gesture,
realizing she was right. He already had a woman in his
life. He wouldn't settle for anything less. 

As they walked in, their friends were there. Mulder
smiled, realizing he had never been more content. And with
Willis locked away safe and sound, there was nothing more
he could ask for. In the morning he would worry about the
therapy for his arm. Then he would worry about the things
that would have him face reality again. But tonight all
that mattered were his friends. Because they were the ones
that always saved him.


- The End -