Title: California Case File Author: Margie Rating: R (mostly for violence and/or graphic descriptions of corpses and things) Pairing: MSR UST, M/Sc/Sk friendship Summary: Mulder and Scully are loaned to ISU to help profile and catch a serial killer in Santa Barbara, CA. Disclaimer: I don't own anything. 1013, Fox and Chris Carter have carte blanche on all. (Except maybe Jon Engle) Feedback: Yes please! margaritagomez1@msn.com Archive: If you want it just email me to tell me where it's going. It will eventually be on my own website when I get the chance to update (www.angelfire.com/indie/margarks/index.html) Author's Note: ** Warning ** If you don't like descriptions of serial murders and the affects they have on family members left behind don't read this fic. Otherwise, enjoy. Beta: Thanks to Fran!! My wonderful Beta. This story wouldn't have been anywhere near as well written without your insightful character and storyline comments, and your wonderful grammar skills! *** Ch. 1 Lassiter Home Santa Barbara, CA December 29, 2002 1:12 AM PST This was the third night he had come. Thankfully, it was dark tonight. No stars, not even a moon. Tonight would be perfect. He had been waiting for almost two hours now. Mr. Lassiter had turned out the living room light and gone upstairs at just past 11 pm. With Mrs. Lassiter already asleep, he had not turned on the bedroom light but had, presumably, gone straight to bed. He wanted to be sure. Needed to be certain. So he had waited outside for the last two hours. He hadn't seen any other movement in the house since then. He rose with a soft sigh, stretching his long form. He heard the crack his neck made as his vertebrae popped back into place. Glancing furtively around, he slipped from his hiding place, moving toward the dark house. *** Hoover Building Washington DC December 30, 2002 3:23 PM EST Mulder and Scully sat just outside AD Skinner's office. Skinner had called them up from downstairs without an explanation, so of course, Mulder was fidgeting. "Mulder, sit still." Scully arched a demanding eyebrow at him. "Sorry, Scully." He smiled sheepishly at her, but instead of relaxing became even more agitated. He pushed out of his chair and began pacing in front of her. Scully followed him with her eyes and was about to order him to sit when Skinner's door opened, and they both turned to see Kimberly exiting the office, writing notes on the pad she held. "He'll see you now," Kim stated casually as she sat back down at her desk. Mulder waited for Scully to rise before leading her toward the open door, his hand on the small of her back. Skinner did not look up from the file he was reading until they had both seated themselves in their usual spots. Mulder threw a quick glance at Scully, noticing how calm and professional she looked. 'As always,' he thought. Not that he wasn't calm, per se; he just wasn't very fond of these unscheduled AD to Agent meetings. More often than not, they ended in a very unsatisfactory way, for him, at least. "Agents," Skinner acknowledged, finally looking up from his file and closing the folder. He studied them both for a moment as they nodded a greeting. He noted Scully's usual professional demeanor, and wasn't surprised to find Mulder's tense expression. Obviously, the man knew something was up. Inwardly, Skinner sighed, wishing there were a way to avoid the conversation. Outwardly, his grimace never faltered. He'd worked hard to perfect his "hard-ass" image. "Well, I'm sure you two have heard of the recent slayings in California." He flipped the folder open again and turned it toward the two agents. "The couple killings?" Mulder pulled the folder onto his lap, moving imperceptibly closer to Scully so that she could read it as well. "Yes. There was another set of murders last night. The local PD has asked for ISU assistance." Skinner watched Mulder carefully for any reaction. He received none as Mulder continued to peruse the file. "Why call us in, sir?" Scully's voice broke into his thoughts. She too glanced at her partner for a reaction. Unlike Skinner, she noticed the slight tenseness to his jaw, and a tightness in the line of his shoulders. "Because, Agent, your assistance has been requested." "Are you reassigning us to ISU, sir?" Mulder finally responded. "Only temporarily, Mulder." This time he did sigh out loud. "I know how much you dislike these cases. And I realize you have legitimate concerns. Believe me, I don't like this anymore than you do - " "Then why do it, sir?" Mulder broke in. "We don't have a choice. ISU is shorthanded. With the serial rapists in both Chicago and Boulder, and the bombings in Detroit, they don't have much staff to devote to this case. They've already sent one profiler down, but for all intents and purposes, he's a rookie. They need someone experienced. As of last night, there are eight people dead." Skinner dry washed his face with his palm before looking back up at his agents. The file was now on Scully's lap, the folder closed. Her face turned toward Mulder in a questioning stare. Mulder raised his head and gave his partner a brief reassuring glance before turning his eyes toward the Assistant Director. "When do we leave, sir?" Skinner grunted acceptance of his quiet capitulation. "Kim made reservations on the 7:30 flight tonight. Jon will meet you at the airport." "Jon, sir?" Scully asked. "Jon Engle. He's the ISU profiler. He's already expecting you." With that, Skinner dropped his gaze back to the other folders on his desk, effectively dismissing them. Again Mulder waited for Scully to rise before stepping up behind her. He gently guided her toward the door, but turned abruptly before leaving. "How much of a rookie, sir?" Skinner knew what he was asking. How long has he had to soak up the rumors? How long has he had to steep in the ISU waters? Would he be grateful for, or resentful of, their assistance? "Enough, Mulder. Enough." Ch. 2 Scully looked over at her sleeping partner. She surreptitiously moved a fallen lock of brown hair away from his face. He always looked so peaceful in sleep. She wondered for the hundredth time how he was able to sleep during these trips. She supposed it was because he didn't get any sleep at home. Mulder wasn't quite leaning on Scully's shoulder, but it was close enough for him. It wasn't like he was deceiving her about his dream state; he had been asleep, after all. He always fell asleep during their plane trips, if only because it allowed him to be in closer physical proximity to her. Today he had gotten a bonus. He had felt the brush of her soft fingers against his forehead as she tried to tame his unruly hair. At the ding of the seat belt light, Mulder lifted his head and stretched. "Skinner did say they were holding the scene, right?" He turned toward his partner, who was readjusting her seat to its upright position. "Yes. They've already bagged the bodies and sent them to the local coroner' s office. They're holding them for me." "So, Scully, what do you think of our UNSUB so far?" Mulder asked quietly as they waited for the plane to land. "Well.I'd really like to take a look at those bodies. I've asked them to have the autopsy bay set up for me by 9 AM tomorrow morning. But from the looks of the other autopsy photos, it appears as if the killings are very ritualized." Cognizant of the other passengers on the plane, Scully kept her voice as soft as Mulder's had been. "Each victim was stabbed 3-4 times with what appears to be a knife blade of at least 6 inches in length. Possibly a hunting knife." She was looking at a point just beyond his shoulder. A slight frown marred her face as she thought. "There are also faint ligature marks around each neck. The autopsy reports don't indicate whether they were able to identify the source." Scully gripped the armrests as the plane landed on the tarmac with a bump. She didn't exactly hate flying, but she wasn't very fond of it either. Mulder was quiet a moment, and she recognized the look he got when he was deep in thought. As the other passengers began to disembark the plane, he looked up and caught her eye. "We need to know what he's using. It's important." And with that, he lifted himself out of his seat and reached up for their carry-on luggage. *** LAX Los Angeles, CA December 30, 2002 9:13 PM PST Jon was making his third pass through the LAX pick-up loop when he finally spotted them. He was nervous. He'd only been in ISU for four months, but even he had heard rumors about Spooky Mulder. He didn't really understand most of them. But he had read through some of Mulder's old cases, and he knew the work of a genius when he saw it. Every profile he read had been dead on. And Mulder's solve rate, then and now, was higher than any other agent in the unit. And now he was supposed to be working with him! And Agent Scully. He took small comfort in the fact that she had been a rookie like him when she was first assigned to work with Mulder. He watched them as he pulled up. He had seen enough newspaper clippings to recognize Mulder's features, and he had been told that Scully was a short redhead. It's wasn't like they were going to be hard to miss. They were standing close together with their heads bent. Or at least, Mulder's head was bent. It looked as if they were whispering to each other, and if they hadn't been wearing their official FBI regalia they would look like any other normal couple coming to LA for a weekend getaway. He noticed that whenever either one spoke, the other would be listening attentively. As he stepped out of the car to introduce himself, he saw communicative looks pass between them. "Nice to meet you." Mulder murmured as he held out his hand. Scully followed suit and once the introductions were complete, all three loaded into the car and headed out of the airport. Jon was driving, with Mulder in the front passenger seat. "Thanks for coming out to get us, Jon," Scully said from her seat behind Mulder. "No problem. Sorry I wasn't able to meet you at the gate. LAX hasn't allowed non-ticketed people into the terminals since 911." "Yeah, it probably wouldn't have been worth the hassle of pulling out your badge." They drove for a while in silence. Once they hit Highway 101, traffic eased off a tiny bit. "God! I always forget how bad traffic is on the 405 until I have to go through it!" Jon exclaimed. "Forget?" Scully looked up quizzically. "Does that mean you used to live here?" "Oh, yeah. I grew up in the valley.San Fernando that is. Have you two ever been to Santa Barbara? It's a great city. I went to school up there. Got my bachelors in History at UCSB before going to law school at UCLA." "Good." Mulder murmured as he flipped another page of the file over. "That means you know the area. How well do you know the area around the crime scenes?" "Fairly well. The latest site was in downtown Santa Barbara. Just a few streets off State, the main drag. The first murder was in Montecito, which I don't know that well. And the other two were in Goleta, which I know like the back of my hand. I lived there my last two years of college. "What's really odd to me...what I haven't been able to figure out yet, is why the UNSUB seems to ignore the victims' social class. I mean, Goleta and Montecito aren't exactly in the same league, if you know what I mean." "I take it that one is slightly more upper class than the other?" Scully raised an eyebrow in inquiry. "You could say that. Montecito is where all the rich folk go to live out their remaining years, while all the poor college kids and other scum of the earth reside in good old Goleta." Scully looked over to see Jon's self-deprecating smile. "Well, that's why victimology is so important. We need to be able to ascertain the victims' key characteristics in order to get a handle on this guy. Although a large percentage of serial killers like to confine themselves to one race and social status, there are still a certain percentage that disregard these for more specific attributes." As he spoke, Mulder looked up to glance at their driver. He wasn't sure how Jon would react to his statements. It was always a struggle for him, Mulder reflected. It seemed as if every colleague he ever had to work with had preconceived notions about him. Even Scully had them; she just never allowed them to color her decisions about him. Scully needed hard evidence; she would never just take anything at face value. That was what he loved about her. He was relieved to see Jon nodding his head, so he continued. "Obviously, social class isn't a key factor for our UNSUB. What factors have you suggested in your profile so far?" Mulder had read the case file, but had not been given a copy of Jon's latest profile, most likely because Jon hadn't turned in anything written yet. "Well, all the couples so far have been in their thirties. They're all white, and all have children, though of differing ages and sex. I haven't been able to connect the couples yet. Two of the wives shopped at the same grocery store, but so far, I haven't been able to come up with anything more concrete." Jon turned to Mulder as he spoke. "Has the local PD been able to make any connections between the children?" Mulder finally closed the file folder and handed it back to Scully, who promptly slipped it into her laptop case. "Well.they don't attend the same schools. Not even within the same household. Four of the children attend the same elementary school, and two are in the same high school, all within the public school system. The Montecito kids attend private school, although also within the local area." Jon pulled into the parking lot of a Motel 6 as he finished debriefing them. Scully looked around and let out an audible sigh. "Well, Mulder. It looks like Jon's got about the same taste in accommodations that you do!" Mulder grinned crookedly at her as he stepped out of the car and toward the trunk, pulling out their luggage as Scully exited the car and came to stand by his side. As he watched, she linked her hands together and stretched them as far as she could above her head. As she smoothed out the kinks left over from the long ride, the bottom of her suit jacket rose to just above her waist. Mulder was rewarded with a view of Scully's creamy skin and a peek at her belly button. He was momentarily lost in a fantasy involving said belly button and his own, now dry, tongue. "Mulder?" Scully nudged him with her elbow. She was standing with her hand held out, waiting for him to pass over her bag. "Huh?" He shook his head, dispersing the last of his fantasy image. "Oh, sorry." He handed her bag over, while successfully reciting the lyrics to the theme from the Greatest American Hero in his head. He could really relate to that show. By the time he had gone through the lyrics twice, he was able to close the trunk and step away from the car without completely embarrassing himself. *** Motel 6 Santa Barbara, CA December 30, 2002 11:23 PM PST As usual, they had adjoining rooms, with the only difference being that Mulder was sharing his room with Jon. Mulder threw his bag onto the first bed before heading over to the adjoining door and unlocking it. A second later he heard the click as Scully did the same on her side. When he turned back around, he noticed Jon quickly look away. He sighed. "Jon? Do you mind if I call you Jon?" Mulder did not look at him as he unpacked his clothes. He normally didn't bother, but he wanted something to do with his hands in order to avoid using them to strangle the hapless rookie. "N-no, sir." Jon stuttered. He was embarrassed to have noticed Mulder's actions. The rumors about Mr. and Mrs. Spooky were now running rampant through his mind. "I take it you're wondering why I've unlocked the door to Agent Scully's room?" "N-no, sir. It's none of my business, sir." "Damn right it isn't, Jon, but I'm going to tell you anyway." The repeated use of Jon's name was a technique that Mulder had learned at Quantico. During any type of negotiation, the injection of a name helped to personalize the relationship. It allowed the agent to soothe the suspect into a false sense of security. "We're partners." Mulder said simply. Jon only nodded, not wanting to agitate the other agent. But as they resumed their unpacking and got ready for bed, he had to wonder. Exactly what was Mulder's definition of a 'partner'? Ch. 3 Sheriff's Department Santa Barbara, CA December 31, 2002 8:00 AM PST Mulder led Scully into the station, with Jon bringing up the rearas they entered the small building. From the front lobby, Mulder could see the standard furnishings of every law enforcement office he'd ever been in. Behind the front counter was a large open area holding eight desks in groups of two. Only one desk was currently occupied, while one other officer sat at the front counter. Jon nodded a morning greeting, and gave brief introductions before pointing down the hall to an office on the left. Upon entering the room Mulder could see that Jon had set it up as the war room. There were crime scene photos taped to the walls and several case folders lay open on the table. As Scully opened her case and began pulling out her laptop, Mulder made his way to the far east wall to study the photos. The first set came from the home of Peter and Lisa Hunt, the first set of victims. From what he had read in the file last night, they were the parents of 11 year old twins Reese and Rebecca. This was the couple from Montecito. The wall also held a family photo of the victims, including their son and daughter. A quick glance at the rest of the wall indicated that Jon had gotten family photos of each of the victims. He was glad to put faces to the children, since they would be interviewing them later on that day. But seeing the smiling faces placed so close to the crime scene photos gave him an uneasy feeling. He kept focusing on first one photo and then another as the discomfort made its way toward his stomach. He never liked seeing the UNSUB's handiwork, although he knew it was necessary for him to create a valid profile. He continued down the wall until he came to the latest victims, Alex and Marie Lassiter. Ages 36 and 33, with an only child of 9. Christopher had been asleep in his bed and hadn't heard a sound that night. Neighbors called 911 when they heard Chris' screams upon waking and finding himself locked in his room. The UNSUB had taken a chair from the hallway and blocked the child's door. Already having studied the crime scene photos last night, Mulder focused instead on the family photo. Is this what the UNSUB saw? Was he jealous of the victims? They each had what most people would call the American Dream. Nice homes in suburban country, and various progeny to carry on the family traditions. His mind kept turning back to the children. Why weren't the children touched? None of them had even been awakened during the murders. Mulder turned at the sound of the office door. In walked a man who looked to be in his early fifties, wearing what was obviously the county sheriff's uniform. He was in relatively good shape. At least there was no apparent beer belly, and he didn't seem to have a disproportionate amount of body fat. "Gentleman, ma'am." He tipped his hat. "I'm Sheriff Crane. I know there's usually a lot of jurisdictional bullshit on these kinds of cases, so I want to get this over with," he began without preamble. "I called you in because I need your help. Haven't been able to come up with much of anything in this case. Heard about the ISU from a friend with the LAPD. Said she'd worked with some of your people before, and thought you might be able to help." Mulder eyed him warily as Scully noted, "Sir, we know this is your case. We've only been brought in to consult, as I'm sure Agent Engle has told you." "Well, this is my case, but I want you to do whatever needs doing in order to catch this guy. I'll assign one of my deputies to you since I assume you'll want to visit the scenes and do some witness interviews - " "That won't be necessary, sir," Mulder was quick to interject. He didn't want any local PD hampering the investigation. He'd found that most people didn't understand what profiling was, and didn't really believe in the process. "Agent Engle knows the area. We'll be sure to update you on any new findings." "I don't know if that's a good idea, Agent Mulder. I'd prefer one of my men went with you." 'Here we go,' Mulder thought, 'Do whatever needs to be done, my ass. "Sir, we're going to be re-interviewing the children today. It would be best if we came in with the least amount of people." "That's even more reason for my deputy to go with you. He was at most of the original interviews. He already has an established relationship with the children," Sheriff Crane rebounded. "Sheriff, if you really want us to help you, I suggest you let us do our jobs." Mulder was getting tired of the verbal sparring, and Scully shot him a warning look. "Sir, we're not here to take over your investigation, or to take credit for the collar. All we want is to keep any other children from losing their parents." Scully, as always, was placating. "Fine, but you better keep me in the loop." Sheriff Crane left, shutting the door firmly behind him. "Mulder! Why can't you ever get along with the locals?" Scully asked as she turned back to her partner. He was grinning at her when he replied, "Sorry, Scully. Maybe Engle here knows how to bake?" For his part Jon was embarrassed to find himself confused over the conversation, and happy for some reason that Mulder had called him Engle. In his four months with the ISU, and his one year within the Bureau, he'd never met any other agents that referred to each other solely by their surnames. It made him feel curiously accepted to be included in that little ritual. "Mulder, I don't think a Bundt cake is going to do it this time." She humphed at him. She caught Jon's confused stare, and just shook her head. "Sorry, Jon. It's a long and probably boring story." She watched Mulder as he again made his way over to the Lassiter family photo. It was a small blessing that the UNSUB had locked poor Chris in his room that night. It not only kept him safe from discovering the UNSUB on the scene, but also kept him from discovering his parents in the morning. She looked down at her watch and found it was almost time for her to begin the autopsies. With two bodies, she would be working all day. Good thing she was wearing her 'sensible' shoes today;only two inch heels. As she was contemplating her footwear, Mulder spoke up beside her. "Hey, Scully?" He was still staring at the photo. "Yes, Mulder?" "Did the autopsy reports say anything about drugs in the system of any victims?" "Toxicology reports didn't indicate anything more than a few drops of alcohol. Probably some wine with dinner or something equally innocuous. Why?" "How do you think he kept the children from waking? I mean, there were two victims. How did he keep them both quiet? He'd have to incapacitate them both at the same time." "Maybe he used threats against the children to keep them quiet?" Agent Engle suggested. "Maybe," he acknowledged. "We need to interview those kids. I have a feeling that it all comes back to them." "I'll probably be working at the morgue all day. It'll take at least 6 or 7 hours to get through both autopsies." "Okay, Scully. Engle and I will be visiting the crime scenes first. Give us a call if you find anything interesting." When she turned she noticed her partner waggling his eyebrows at her. "You go do that voodoo you do, Scully." She rolled her eyes at him, "Just don't spook the locals anymore, okay, Mulder?" She heard his answering chuckle down the hall. Ch. 4 Coroner's Office Santa Barbara, CA December 31, 2002 11:43 AM PST 'Happy new year to me.' Scully thought as she placed Alex Lassiter's liver on the scale. At least she was almost done with Mr. Lassiter. Probably another hour to go before she could start up on Marie Lassiter. Although there was no question that he had died of massive blood loss due to the 4 stab wounds in his chest, he also had some blunt force trauma to the head. And of course, there were those faint ligature marks around his neck. The UNSUB must have incapacitated Mr. Lassiter with a blow to the head in order to be able to attack Mrs. Lassiter with impunity. She was just about to pull off her gloves when the trill from her cell phone caught her attention. "Scully." "Did you find anything interesting?" She recognized the soft cadence of her partner's voice. Even without voice recognition, she knew it was him. Who else called without bothering with even a small greeting? "Depends on what you consider interesting, Mulder." "Oooh, Scully. Are you coming on to me?" She could practically hear the leer in his voice. Ignoring him, she continued, "Alex Lassiter evidenced blunt force trauma to the head. It most likely rendered him unconscious on impact. He had four stab wounds around the upper chest, and very faint ligature marks on the neck. He died from the massive blood loss caused by the stab wounds. I was able to lift a few strands of fiber off his neck. I'm sending them to the lab for analysis." While she spoke, she scrubbed her hands and arms in the ME's sink. "I'm also sending a blood sample for the toxicology report, although I doubt we'll find anything. If he had been drugged, there would have been no reason for the blow to his head." "So our UNSUB got to Mr. Lassiter first. Beat him unconscious then went after Mrs. Lassiter? He must have been pretty quick to keep her from screaming before he got to her." Mulder was mumbling to himself as she laid out the facts for him. "Okay, Scully. Can you see if the lab will rush the fibers? The strangulation is part of his signature. He knows the stabbing alone would kill his victims, but he feels the need to strangle them anyway. I have a feeling if we can find out what he's using, it will bring us one step closer to figuring out his motive." "Sure, Mulder. I'm just about to start up on Mrs. Lassiter. I'll call you when I'm through." Scully was about to hit the END button on her phone when she heard Mulder call out to her. "Scully, wait!" "Yes?" "Engle and I have gone through the first three crime scenes. We're on our way to the Lassiter home now." "Okay, Mulder." "I know you haven't eaten anything except for that disgusting yogurt at breakfast." "It wasn't disgusting, Mulder. I like yogurt." She smiled at the grimace in his voice. "I'd bring you a sandwich or something but we haven't finished going over the crime scenes, and we still have to do the second interviews." "I'm fine, Mulder. I can take care of myself." "I know you can, Scully. But you get wrapped up when you're working, and forget sometimes. So I ordered you a pizza. It'll be there in about ten minutes." "Thanks, Mulder. I'll save you a slice for when you pick me up tonight." "Oooh. A New Year's Eve, my lovely partner, and cold pizza. What more could a guy ask for?" * Click * He barked out a laugh when he heard the distinct sound of Scully hanging up on him. "Do you always talk to Agent Scully that way?" He looked over at Engle. He'd forgotten he wasn't alone in the car. "What way?" He feigned ignorance. "I don't know. It just seems sort of.I don't know.forget it." Jon could feel his face turning red at his inarticulate statement. "What? Ordering her a pizza?" "Well, I guess. I've just never seen two partners who work the way that you two do." "Jon, Scully and I have seen a lot of nasty shit together. It's made us get to know each other a lot faster and better than most partners in the Bureau. I watch out for her when she's working, the same way she'll watch out for me when I get too deep into the profile." Mulder pulled into the driveway of the Lassiter home, contemplating the discussion they'd just had. Jon seemed genuinely interested in Mulder's opinion on the case, and didn't seem to harbor any resentment at being usurped by Spooky Mulder. Mulder wasn't inclined to trust anyone, except Scully of course, but he found himself feeling oddly comfortable around the younger man. He found himself wanting to dissuade Jon from believing any of the rumors he was sure to have heard. They both climbed out of the standard issue Ford Taurus and headed toward the house. Jon pulled out the keys the sheriff had given him and they both ducked under the yellow tape across the front door. The house was cold. Obviously, the heat had been turned off. It was probably 60 degrees out at the moment, but last night had been down in the 40s. The living room was small, maybe 500 square feet. There was a small counter separating it from the kitchen area towards the back of the house. To the left were the stairs leading to the second floor bedrooms. At the top of the stairs was Chris' room. Mulder entered there first. The room was typical for a 9 year old boy, he thought. There was a computer in the corner, and a Playstation 2 hooked up to the TV by the bed. There weren't any posters on the walls, but there were plenty of magazines lying strewn across the computer desk. Most had to do with video games, presumably for the Playstation 2. Jon watched as Mulder circled the room. "Did any of the others have Playstations?" Mulder asked abruptly. "Uh.No.I think one of them, the Harris' had one. The Hunt's had some sort of Nintendo, the latest one.a Gamecube? And the Sanderson's didn't have either." Jon wondered what this had to do with anything. Plenty of kids had video games. "Just a hunch," Mulder shrugged. "Let's head over to the master bedroom." This was the worst part. The scene was still relatively fresh. Blood stained the sheets on the left side of the mattress. Mr. Lassiter had been stabbed while still unconscious on his side of the bed. On the right, it was clear that Mrs. Lassiter had tried to escape. The blood staining the carpet was thick. There were splashes of it on her side of the bed as well, so she must have been stabbed as she stood to run. "Was there any sign that anything had been taken from the house?" Mulder queried as he continued his study of the room. "No, but Marie Lassiter's wedding ring was missing from her finger. As were the rings of each of the other three wives." "MMhhmm." Mulder acknowledged having read this in the files last night. "And none of the men's rings were taken, correct?" Jon answered with a "Yes," but knew that Mulder wasn't really listening. He could almost see all of the facts pulling together in Mulder's head, his mind working to create the links that nobody else could see. "We need to find his ex-wife." "Whose? Mr. Lassiter's?" Jon was genuinely confused. "No. The UNSUB. I'm willing to bet the divorce just became final. It's probably the stressor that pushed him over the edge." He walked around to the other side of the bed, squatting down to examine the bloodied carpet. "He enjoys killing the women. I think we'll find that her wounds were driven by rage. Scully should be able to verify that. See, he leaves the men unconscious, not caring whether they know what's happening. But the women.he wants them awake. Wants them to know that they're going to die." Mulder's eyes had gone glassy. His recitation fell into a monotone as he put the picture together in his mind's eye. "He stabs them. Mostly to incapacitate them, but leave them aware enough to feel it when he pulls the cord tighter. He gets a rush from seeing them struggle for air.feeling their ineffectual attempts to escape his hold. For him, it's all about the moment the struggles cease. The moment he realizes that he's literally choked the life out of them." Jon was watching Mulder intently as he looked up to focus on Mr. Lassiter's side of the bed. "By the time he's done with the women, the husbands are nearly dead. They've lost so much blood that it's really inevitable. But he gets up, and wraps the cord around their necks anyway. And he pulls. It 's not the same sensation, but it somehow assuages some guilt for him. Maybe he's using the men as a sort of effigy for himself. I'm not sure." Mulder's eyes refocused as he turned toward Jon. "How much of that is already in your profile?" "Uhm.not much. To tell you the truth, this is the first case I've been on my own. I figured that the UNSUB was misplacing anger for either his mother, or his wife. But I hadn't factored in the importance of the strangulation. And I'd assumed that if he'd had a wife, she'd be dead by now." Jon watched for Mulder's reaction to his attempts at the profile. "No. I don't think he's killed his wife. If he had, the murders wouldn't be so rage driven. He'd have taken some of that out on his wife already. As it is, he's probably using them to do what he can't to his real wife. Or ex-wife, as the case may be." As Mulder became more aware of his surroundings he realized that the room had grown dark. He checked his watch to find that it was nearly 6 o'clock. How long had they been here? "Let's go. We're not going to get any interviews done today. We can call the current guardians tomorrow and set up a time to meet the children. It might be a good idea to interview them all separately and then get them all together in one room to go over their statements. It might allow us to make a few more connections." "That's not really SOP, is it?" Jon had never heard of allowing witnesses to taint each other's interviews like that. "Maybe you haven't heard ALL the rumors yet." Ch. 5 Motel 6, Room 143 Santa Barbara, CA December 31, 2002 11:57 PM PST After picking Scully up from the morgue, they stopped at a local Chinese place for some takeout. Mulder was munching on the last of the kung pao chicken while Scully went over her findings in Marie Lassiter's autopsy. "Her wounds were a lot deeper and longer than those found on her husband. The killer used only three stabs, but the incisions were all 2 to 3 inches long. Mr. Lassiter's wounds were no longer than an inch; probably the width of the blade." Scully flipped the page on her report, allowing her time to chew on a mouthful of sticky rice. "The ligature marks on her neck were a lot more pronounced. She was most likely still conscious when he strangled her. There was too much bruising for her to have bled out yet. I found some more of those fibers on Mrs. Lassiter and sent them to the lab as well." "What do you think, Scully?" She looked up from her carton of vegetable lo mein to find Mulder perusing the autopsy report she had just put down. He was wearing a pair of old jeans and a faded blue t-shirt. He was sprawled comfortably on the opposite bed. For a moment she pictured him there without any files, or a t-shirt for that matter. "Scully?" At the sound of his voice the image shattered. "I think that the evidence supports your profile of the UNSUB's MO. But we still don't have motive. And we don't know how he's choosing his victims." "I know, Scully. It's been nagging at me all day. I've told Jon that I'm sure the children are the key. We just have to figure out how they're connected." He was chewing on his bottom lip as he spoke. "So, did you play nice with Agent Engle today Mulder?" "Of course, Scully! I was on my best behavior!" He gave her his 'who me?' look. She raised an eyebrow at him in query. He gave a long suffering sigh, "Don't worry, Scully. I haven't done anything to alienate the poor rookie." "Mulder, I know you don't play well with others, but he seems like a good guy. At least he hasn't made any spooky jokes yet." "No. But I know he's heard the rumors. He's asked some questions." "What kind of questions?" Scully's early warning system was starting to go off. "Oh, you know. The usual. Questions about us. About how we work together." "Dammit!" "It wasn't like that. I guess he just noticed that our working relationship isn't really SOP, as he would put it." She still had that concerned look on her face, so he continued. "You know, Scully, he's right. Our partnership has never been SOP. It's not.well.it's not what most people think, but it's still not what most Bureau partnerships are. You know that." She noticed the brief hesitation and glanced up. She saw something vaguely unreadable in his eyes before he schooled his expression. Before she could answer, there was a knock on the connecting door. "Happy New Year!" Agent Engle stood in the doorway, his hair still wet from his shower. Mulder glanced down at his watch and noted the time as 12:06 AM. His mouth quirked up in a smile and he lifted his can of Brisk ice tea to Scully. "Happy New Year," they said in unison as their cans clunked together. *** Sheriff's Department, Interview Room B Santa Barbara, CA January 1, 2003 3:41 PM PST "I'm glad we couldn't do the interviews yesterday Scully." They were waiting as the Sanderson children were led into the interview room. "Why's that, Mulder?" "I'd much rather have you here. I can't count on Engle to pick up on anything I miss. Not really." This was said quietly enough so that Agent Engle, sitting on the other side of the table, couldn't overhear. Mulder didn't want to insult the guy. But Engle was a rookie, after all. And he definitely wasn't Scully. So what did he expect? The unspoken admission from Mulder that Scully could and would pick up on anything that he missed warmed her, though her expression never changed. Mulder had always treated her as an agent. A good agent. The occasional innuendo or smart-ass comments about 'little feet' never made her feel as if he considered her as part of the 'weaker' sex. She was a navy brat, after all. She'd heard her share of innuendo. There was a short rap on the door, and then a troop of children were led into the room by a deputy. Mulder noted the children, mentally assigning names to each as they walked in. The tallest was Sally, the 15 year old attending Calle Real High School. The younger sister was Julie, 10 years old, attending Goleta Elementary along with her brother Robert, age 8. Two weary looking adults followed, the woman looking remarkably like Sally and Julie. 'Must be an aunt,' Mulder thought. This was the last of their interviews. They had already spoken with the children from each of the other victims' families. Mulder still wanted to get all the children together, but wanted to hold off for a few days. They hadn't really learned anything yet that wasn't in the original interview sessions. "Thank you again for coming in today." Scully addressed the Sandersons' guardians. "Of course. We want to help in anyway to catch the man that did this." "Well, we just have a few questions for the kids, and then we'll let you be on your way. We may need them one more time, probably early next week, to go over any new questions that may arise." Mulder was solicitous. When the guardians nodded, he turned toward the children. "Hi. My name's Fox Mulder. You can call me Fox." He gave them his warmest smile. "Nu uh!" Robert's eyes were wide, and Julie couldn't suppress her giggle. Sally gave each of them a look and they quieted down. 'Interesting,' Mulder thought. "I'm very sorry about your parents." The three of them had agreed beforehand that Mulder would be doing most of the talking. He was a trained psychologist and worked well with children. "Thank you, Mr. Mulder." Sally answered, her head lowered. "Fox. Call me Fox." She smiled weakly up at him. "Can you tell me what you all were doing on the day it happened?" "I think so. It was nothing really different. Robert and Julie get home about an hour or so before I do. They're supposed to go straight home and do their homework, but they usually don't. Do their homework, that is." She looked around at her brother and sister and gave them the look of a fed up sister. "When I got home that day they were both sitting in front of the television watching Nickelodeon. I turned it off and made them go upstairs to their rooms and start their homework while I made a snack. After our snack, Robert and Julie sat back down in front of the TV and I went upstairs to do my homework." "And where were your parents at this time?" "At work, I guess. They usually didn't get home until around 5:30." Sally shrugged. "So, you're all latch key kids?" 'That explains her behavior toward the children,' Mulder thought. Now that her parents are gone for good, she thinks she has to take over the role she usually only has between 3 and 5 pm. "Yeah, I guess. A lot of the kids at school are like that. I never thought about it much." "Okay. Can you think of anything unusual that happened that day or that week? Did any of you meet any new people?" All three of the children shook their heads. They concluded the interview and Mulder led them out of the room. "Thank you again. You've all been a lot of help. We'll give you a call if we have any other questions or need to meet with you again." When he returned Scully and Engle were discussing the interview. "Still nothing new. Everything they said here was already discussed at the first interview." Engle was leaning toward Scully as he spoke. "There's got to be a connection somewhere we're missing." Scully shook her head in thought. "There is." Mulder answered as he walked back and sat next to her. "So far all the children have been latch key kids." "Mulder, that doesn't mean anything. There are plenty of latch key kids out there." Scully wasn't buying into his theory. "I know that, Scully. But it's important. And so far, it's the only clear link we have." He dry washed his face with his hands before continuing. "Now we just have to figure out how he's finding out, and what is making him choose these kids over any others." Ch. 6 Somewhere on State Street Santa Barbara, CA January 2, 2003 1:13 PM PST He was watching her. She wasn't particularly beautiful. She had short brown hair that curled in at the ends. She was fairly short, only about 5'4". She wore a business pantsuit with 2 inch matching heels. She had just come from work. He had followed her throughout her lunch. As they walked up State Street toward her office, he made sure to keep out of sight. It was her fault. He wasn't going to let her do it again. He watched as the door closed behind her. *** Sheriff's Department Santa Barbara, CA January 2, 2003 7:52 PM PST Scully checked her watch. It was nearly 8 o'clock. Her stomach was marching a protest against her less than nutritious lunch and her non-existent dinner. It had been a pretty fruitless day. Based on Mulder's profile, they were searching for any divorce decrees that had been finalized in the past 5 years within the Santa Barbara and Ventura counties. Unfortunately for them, California seemed to be the divorce capital of the world. They had over 15,000 records to sift through. After repeated attempts to concentrate on the list she had in front of her, she finally gave up. Mulder was in the war room trying to narrow down his profile. When she entered the room, Mulder's back was to her. He was sitting behind the table facing the wall. She stood for a few minutes watching him. Autopsy reports were spread across the table. It looked as if he had been writing some notes on the legal pad in front of him, before deciding to focus on the photographs. She jumped as he called her name. "Scully." He hadn't moved since she entered the room, and he did not turn when he addressed her. "Mulder." She felt the waves of his weariness wash over her. He'd been in this room most of the day. He knew his current profile wasn't enough to identify the UNSUB. "He's already picked the next victims." He turned away from the wall and caught her eyes with his. "You don't know that, Mulder." "I do know, Scully." His head lowered and he caught sight of the autopsy photos spread in gruesome display before him. "He's escalating. The Hunts were almost a year ago. The Harris's 4 months after that. And the Sandersons just over 2 months after that." Mulder's shoulders were drawn together tight. His eyes were shut. "The Lassiters were just a week ago. He'll have picked a new couple by now. He needs to spend time making sure he's chosen correctly. He needs to plan the night. He's not an impulse killer. "He plans everything out. You said it yourself. The killings were ritualized. He needs to do things a certain way. He believes that there is some sort of higher purpose behind his actions." Mulder's jaw clenched, and his fist hit the table with a loud bang. "God dammit!" His voice lowered to a barely audible whisper. "I need to figure out what he thinks that purpose is." 'Oh, Mulder,' Scully thought. She sat down at the table so that she was facing him. He was still sitting with his head bent and his eyes shut. Briefly, she touched the back of his hand, getting his attention. When he looked up she said, "Even if you're right, it still gives us time. He still needs to plan it. We can still catch him before he tries again." She studied him as she spoke. His hair was mussed, creating a spiked outline around his face. His jacket was off and hanging on the back of his chair. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to past his elbow. His collar was unbuttoned and his tie was nowhere to be seen. His haggard look was completed by the faint stubble accompanying his usual 5 o'clock shadow. "One week. Two at the most." They sat for several minutes not speaking. The quiet hum of the central heating unit filled the room. Finally, Scully stood. "Let's go Mulder. I need food, and you need a shave." Mulder's eyebrows gave a half-hearted waggle. "Why, Scully? Afraid I'll give your delicate skin a rash?" Although all he saw were the dark auburn strands covering the back of her head, Mulder could definitely feel her eyes rolling. He grinned. *** Motel 6, Room 143 Santa Barbara, CA January 3, 2003 1:17 AM PST "Mulder, you need to eat something." Scully was sitting cross-legged on her bed eating a slice of pizza. The great thing about college towns was that they delivered at practically any time day or night. "I told you, Scully, I'm not hungry." He'd spent most of the day going over the autopsy reports and studying each crime scene photo, so that he could recall even the smallest detail at whim. He still felt a bit queasy and he really didn't think he could stomach anything at the moment. "Fine. You can bring the leftovers to your room. Maybe Jon will eat them when he gets back." "Do you think he's trying to impress me or what?" "Maybe. I'm sure he's heard of your solve rate, in and out of the ISU." She pursed her lips in thought. "Maybe he's just afflicted with the same intensity that all of you ISU members seem to have." "It's hard, Scully. Once we're on a case. Once the profile's started. We know inch by inch we're getting closer. We know what will happen if we're not fast enough. Good enough." His right hand clasped his left. His right thumb rubbed rhythmically over his last knuckle as he spoke. "If I can't find him in time...if my profile is wrong...more dead bodies. More victims." "I know, Mulder. I know." She threw her half eaten slice of pizza into the trash bin by her bed. "I think it's time we got some rest. Why don't you go back to your room and get some sleep? I'm going to go brush my teeth." She was up and walking toward the small bathroom. "Okay, Scully. I'm just going to re-read the first time interviews one last time. I'll be gone before you get back." "Okay, Mulder. Goodnight." "G'night, Scully." *** "Gone before I get back, huh?" she whispered to herself. Mulder was laying stretched across the spare bed, his mouth partially open, his breathing rhythmic. The open case file folder was still clasped in his right hand. 'Well, at least he's not drooling,' she thought with a smile. Her faint smile faded as she realized that this was probably the only sleep he would get tonight. He hardly ever slept for more than two or three hours at a time. And if she woke him to return to his own room, she knew that he would not lie down again. He was exhausted, and she doubted he would get any better until this case was over. She reached across to her bed and pulled the cover off. Carefully, she draped it over her sleeping partner, pulling away the case file and tucking him in like a child. 'I'll just stay up and finish typing up my field notes. He should be awake by then.' She sat on her bed and pulled her laptop close. Two and half hours later, Mulder woke with a jerk. He sat bolt upright on the bed and looked around in confusion. Across the way he saw Scully. She was lying on her side atop the covers, with her laptop open next to her. He smiled. Quietly, he stood, grabbing her laptop and notes and placing them on the small table by the window. He then grabbed her cover and returned the favor of tucking his partner in for the night. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he placed a quick and gentle kiss on her forehead before straightening and heading toward his own room. *** Motel 6, Room 142 Santa Barbara, CA January 3, 2003 3:51 AM PST As he pulled the connecting door open he heard movement to his right. Jon was just coming out of the bathroom. "Sir." Jon looked quickly away as heat began to infuse his face. 'Shit, figures.' Mulder thought. "Jon." Mulder nodded at him. "Just getting in?" "No, sir. I've been back for almost an hour. I was just about to try to get some sleep." Engle was looking everywhere but at him. His face had turned a fiery red and it was clear that he was uncomfortable. "Jon. I told you before. My partner and I tend to work as needed. We aren't used to considering what time it is." "Of course, sir." He was a rookie, not an idiot, Engle thought. Mulder had been in Scully's room all night. His shirt was rumpled and he was sporting a bad case of bed head. 'Dammit! I am not going to sit here and explain myself to some rookie!' Mulder moved across to his bed, and rooted around underneath for his running shoes. "I'm going for a run." He was up and out the door before Jon could respond. *** Mulder could feel his quads burning. He probably should have stretched out more before starting, but he hadn't been in the mood. Dammit! Why did this always have to happen? He didn't care much what Engle thought of him, but Scully didn't deserve to be sullied just for being his partner. He hadn't allowed himself to really believe that Engle would let the rumors color his opinions. For a second he had hoped.but.he shook his head and turned the corner. He didn't see anything except for the car's bright headlights before he was thrown across the street and into unconscious oblivion. *** Ch. 7 Santa Barbara General Santa Barbara, CA January 3, 2003 3:15 PM PST As he swam back up to awareness, Mulder heard familiar beeping sounds to his right. He was sore as hell, and he felt a sharp stab of pain at every intake of breath. He groaned, patting his bruised side with his left hand. "You're lucky you didn't break any ribs." Scully. He opened his eyes to slits and saw her sitting in a chair by his bed. He could see the little line that furrowed her brow whenever she was annoyed with him. "Mulder, what were you doing out running when you were so exhausted?" She had been confused and frightened when she'd gotten the call from AD Skinner this morning. The hospital had found Mulder's badge and called headquarters. When she arrived and found out that Mulder had nothing more than a severe bruising and a slight concussion, her fear ebbed into annoyance. "Come on, Scully. I just needed to let off some steam. You know how these cases get to me." He gave her his pouting puppy dog look, but it was cut off with a grimace as he tried to sit up. "Well, you can explain that to Skinner when he arrives." Her tone lightened at the sign of pain his pinched face displayed. "Skinner?" This time his grimace had nothing to do with the pain in his side. "Yeah, they called the Hoover when they found your badge. Skinner called me to let me know what had happened and that he would be joining us shortly." "Why? It's not like I was injured in the line of duty." Mulder whined. "Mulder. You know Skinner was getting pressure to solve this case or he wouldn't have assigned us to it. And now that you've gotten yourself run over, he's coming out to make sure that we are still on track and that your injuries, such as they are, will not hamper the investigation." "Scully?" Mulder was pulling at the IV attached to his right hand. She raised an eyebrow at him. "When can I get this damn thing out?" Maybe changing the subject would postpone the inevitable. "Mulder." She sighed. "They had to keep you hydrated. You were unconscious for a good 5 hours before they were able to wake you for the first time." "I know that. But I'm awake now. And perfectly capable of hydrating myself." He was pouting again, his bottom lip jutting out just slightly. She rolled her eyes, wondering why she hadn't expected it. "The nurse will be in soon to take your vitals anyway. We'll ask her then. There shouldn't be any problem." They were silent for a few minutes while Mulder continued to fidget with his IV line. Eventually he looked up and asked, "Have they found anything yet?" She knew what he was asking, and shook her head in the negative. "No. The list is still too large. They're narrowing it down, but apparently California isn't known as the state of marital bliss." He chewed on his bottom lip in thought. "He's going to make his move soon. He's not going to wait much longer. I can feel it. The last murder was so efficient. He knew exactly what to do, how much time he had. He's gearing up for something - " In unison they both turned toward the door as it swung open. Assistant Director Walter Skinner strode into the room, his face grim. "Sir." Mulder and Scully addressed him. "Agents." He looked toward his wayward subordinate. "There's been a new development. How are you feeling, Agent Mulder?" "Development, sir?" Mulder ignored the question pertaining to his health. "Yes. But before we get into it I'd like to know how you're doing." He gave them both his stern A.D. look. "He's fine, sir. Just some bruising and a mild concussion. They'll probably want to keep him one more night for observation," Scully answered for him. "And how was he before the accident?" He turned toward Scully, knowing that Mulder would not answer. "He hasn't had a chance to get in too deep yet, sir. He was showing signs of loss of appetite and exhaustion, but nothing serious." Scully was grateful that Skinner understood the risks that Mulder took whenever he was assigned to a case like this. "Hello? I am in the room." Mulder was frowning at them both and gesturing at himself. "I'm well aware of that, Agent. And just how did you get yourself into this particular room?" Skinner eyed him wearily. Mulder lowered his gaze. He was embarrassed that he had allowed his confrontation with Engle to break his concentration. And he wasn't about to announce that to Scully or Skinner. "It was just an accident sir. I was running. My mind was on the case. I didn't see the car until it was too late. Now can we talk about the case?" Skinner studied his injured agent. It seemed that Mulder could never catch a break. He had enough problems dealing with cases like these. Studying and deciphering the actions of a mad man was bad enough, but now he was physically hampered as well. And Skinner knew he wasn't going to take the latest news very well. "Our UNSUB struck again last night." "What? I knew he'd already picked out his next victims, but this is too soon. Something must have happened." Ignoring the pain, Mulder sat up straighter. "What else?" How did he know? Skinner glanced over at Scully who was waiting expectantly. She had no doubt that if Mulder suspected Skinner was holding back information that he was correct. He again locked gazes with Mulder. "He's taken the child." "What?" It was Scully's shocked exclamation this time. "After he murdered Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, he entered Mark Jackson's bedroom. He forced him to dress, and then left the scene with him." Skinner was rubbing his head with his right hand as he spoke. "Sir? Did he deviate from his MO in regard to the murders?" "No, Mulder. Both Mr. and Mrs. Jackson were stabbed 3 times in the upper chest. Both have ligature marks around their necks." "Why did he take the child?" Scully was shaking her head. "Do you think that maybe Mark caught him in his parents' bedroom?" "I don't think so, Scully. He's too careful to let something like that happen. Remember? He plans everything out. He would have made sure that Mark was unable to catch him in the act." Mulder's hands were clasped together and he was rubbing the skin just above the IV needle. "I know. I remember thinking that it was such a blessing that he'd locked poor Chris Lassiter in his room." "What do you mean, Agent Scully?" Skinner queried. "Well, it not only kept Chris from walking in on the murders, but it kept him from discovering his parents' bodies the next morning. It's like the UNSUB meant to protect himself, but ended up protecting Chris as well." "Protect?" Mulder murmured. "Excuse me, Agent Mulder?" Skinner turned back toward the bed. "He ended up protecting Chris." Mulder's gaze was turning inward. His voice was losing inflection. "Protecting Chris." "Yes, we've established - " Skinner was cut off by a look from Scully. "He's protecting the children. He thinks they're in danger. He thinks their parents are putting them in danger." Skinner watched, fascinated. He could almost see the wheels turning in his brilliant agent's mind. "Something must have happened for him to change his MO so drastically. He wouldn't have taken Mark unless he thought the danger was even greater." His eyes were still glassy when he turned them on to his partner. "Scully? Did we get the results on the fibers?" His brow was still furrowed in concentration, as he awaited her answer. "Yes. I got the fax this morning at the hotel." She pulled out a slim white piece of paper. Mulder snatched it up before she could unfold it to its full length. "Hmm.shoelace? It's common in shoelaces?" His mind was whirring. He began to murmur again. "Protecting the children. Protecting them from their parents. Latch key kids? They were all latch key kids. Shoelaces? What does the shoelace have to do with it?" His voice faded as he eyed a point in the wall just above Skinner's left shoulder. His eyes were moving in a rapid back and forth motion. And Skinner realized that he was going over the case file in his head. Suddenly the stillness of the room was broken by Mulder's quiet declaration. "He had a son." Ch. 8 "I need to get out of here." Mulder threw the covers open and swung his legs off the bed. "Mulder, wait!" Scully was up and pushing the nurse call button. "Agent Mulder! Sit down." Skinner put a restraining hand on Mulder's shoulder. "Sir. I have to see the latest scene. We're so close now. I can feel it." Mulder looked beseechingly up at him. "At least wait until we can get a doctor in here, Mulder. He's got to fill out the paperwork before you leave anyway. Scully's already called the nurse." As evidence of this statement, the door swung open, admitting a young woman in a white uniform. Scully was speaking before she could step fully into the room. "Please call the doctor, Nurse. Agent Mulder would like to be discharged." As the nurse turned to leave, Scully addressed Mulder. "You know you should stay another night. You're probably still going to be a bit disoriented. You do have a mild concussion." "Scu-lly. You know I can't do that. He's already killed again, and this time he's kidnapped a child. I can't just sit here." "Mulder. How do you know he's got a son?" Skinner couldn't hold back his curiosity any longer. "He doesn't. Not anymore. He's dead." Mulder was pulling at the IV still attached to the back of his hand. "Stop that." Scully batted at his hand. "The doctor will have it pulled when he gets here." "I'm here." A voice answered from the doorway. "What's this I hear about you leaving us, Mr. Mulder?" The young man walking toward them looked no older than 19. He had light coloring and a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose. "I need to leave," was Mulder's only reply. "I see." The doctor eyed him cautiously and then turned his gaze to Scully and Skinner. "I'm Assistant Director Walter Skinner with the FBI." Skinner held his hand out in greeting. "This man is one of my agents. We're currently on a case. Can you tell me if his injuries are serious enough to prevent him from returning to work?" "They're not." Mulder answered, daring his doctor to contradict him. "You are correct, Mr. Mulder. But it would be wise to stay another night for observation. Your injuries aren't life threatening, but the concussion shouldn't be taken lightly." "My partner's a doctor. She'll make sure I'm okay." He glanced at Scully for support. "Can you take this thing out now?" The doctor glanced back and forth from Scully to Mulder. Finally, he sighed in resignation. "I'll send a nurse in to pull the IV while I fill out the paperwork for your discharge. But you'll have to sign yourself out AMA. I am going on record that I do not approve of this." "Thank you, doctor. I'll make sure my partner doesn't endanger himself." She smiled reassuringly at him. Mulder turned toward Skinner. "Sir. We have to get the team to start researching the deaths of any children between 8 and 11 that have occurred within the past 5 years." Mulder was already pulling his clothes out from the closet and stepping into his pants, unmindful of Scully's presence. "Agent Mulder! Agent Scully is still in the room," Skinner felt the need to remind him. "I'm sure she's seen worse, sir." Mulder answered without turning around. Exasperated, Skinner turned toward Scully. "Can you leave us alone for a few minutes, Agent?" "Yes, sir." Scully was trying to suppress the smile that was threatening. Before Scully could leave, the nurse was back and pulling out the IV. Mulder was now free to put on the rest of his clothing, causing her to beat a hasty retreat. While Mulder pulled his undershirt over his head Skinner sat down in the chair recently occupied by Scully. "Agent Mulder. There is something we need to discuss before we leave here." Skinner's words were stiff. Mulder began buttoning his dress shirt. "Sir?" "Agent Engle made mention of a.discussion.the two of you had before you left for your run." "What discussion was that, sir?" Mulder continued to face the closet door. "Agent Mulder, you know that I have the greatest respect for both you and Agent Scully." "Thank you, sir." Skinner sighed, then continued. "When I called the station house for an update on the case, I asked if Agent Engle knew what had happened to you. At first he explained that you had been running and then he was suddenly confessing to having possibly upset you." Skinner gave a rueful smirk. Mulder finally turned, keeping his features neutral. "Upset me how, sir?" Skinner did not break eye contact. "Well, he didn't give me all the details, but I think I got the gist of it." "Sir?" Skinner watched Mulder carefully. Whether his agents were personally involved, he didn't know. But he was sure that neither would allow that kind of relationship to intrude on their work. "Agent Mulder, let's just say that Agent Engle was.bothered.by your last conversation. He spoke with me about it and I've straightened it out." Mulder said nothing for the next few minutes. Was Skinner saying that he told Engle the rumors weren't true? Or was he saying that he told Engle that they were none of his business? Either way he figured that the issue had been resolved, for now, at least. Finally he straightened up. "Yes, sir." Shrugging on his jacket, he followed Skinner out of the room. Ch. 9 Jackson Home Goleta, CA January 3, 2003 6:23 PM PST Mulder and Skinner entered the already bustling house. The local forensics team was on site dusting for prints and collecting what little other evidence was left behind. They had just dropped Scully off at the morgue where the Jacksons' bodies were waiting, and had left Engle at the station house organizing the few deputies they had helping sift through the data generated by the new search parameters. Skinner watched Mulder as they walked toward the master bedroom. The house looked more like a small cottage. It was obvious that the Jacksons weren't exactly well to do. But the house was cozy and well built. It was only one story, with the master bedroom toward the back, and two smaller rooms to either side. The one on the left was obviously Mark Jackson's room. The right had been turned into what looked like a small study. Mulder entered the master bedroom and was immediately assaulted with a sense of dj vu. The room furnishings were nothing like that of the Lassiter home, but the bloody scene was eerily reminiscent. The left side of the bed was soaked with already drying blood. The right side was almost immaculate with just a few splashes of the red liquid. The floor on the right was soaked through. Walking around to Mrs. Jackson's side of the bed, he could see that she had tried to struggle. As the UNSUB stole her breath, she had probably bucked and twisted, trying to dislodge him. The sheets had been pulled down, the ends draping to the floor. Mrs. Jackson had probably grabbed the sheets in an effort to pull herself up. Mulder sat for a long time contemplating the blood stained carpet. Skinner watched and waited. Eventually the forensics crew packed up, leaving them alone in the house. Skinner was finding this new side of Mulder very interesting. He had never seen the agent in profiling mode, and was amazed that he could sit still for this amount of time. Mulder was a creature full of energy, which was what usually got him in trouble. Skinner was about to clear his throat in an attention getting manner, when Mulder suddenly looked up. "He's so full of anger. I can feel it surrounding me. It surprises me that he's able to keep control during the killings." Mulder stood, dusting non-existent lint off of his slacks. He rolled his neck, hearing the satisfying crack. 'You call this control?' Skinner thought, surveying the bloodied scene, but only grunted in answer. "He doesn't let his rage consume him. At least he hasn't yet. If he had, he wouldn't be able to stop at just 3 or 4 stabbings." Mulder was pacing now, his voice losing inflection once again. Skinner shuddered. The flat, lifeless voice Mulder seemed to take on whenever he was entering the killer's mind made his temperature drop. It was almost as if Mulder wasn't in there anymore. "The shoelace. It's extremely important to him. The killings revolve around it." Mulder stopped and stared at the bed once more. "He keeps his rage in check because he wants to use it. He needs to use it. He needs for it to be the instrument that steals the women's lives." Mulder was no longer moving, no longer seeing. He stood facing the bed, his breath even and his eyes glassy. He was still for long moments before he spoke again. "I hate her." "What?" Skinner had lost the thread of the conversation somewhere. He was beginning to worry and wondered if he should be calling Scully, for advice or rescue. He wasn't sure. "She didn't have to do it. She should have been there. I should have been there. But it was her job. She was the mother." Mulder's voice was no longer flat, though his body was still. "She was supposed to be the mother!" At his incoherent wail, Skinner stepped up and slapped him. Mulder's head whipped to the side and when he returned his eyes were clear. "Sir, I need to see Mark's room." He was out the door and out of sight before Skinner was able to reply. He rounded the corner and entered Mark's room, seeing Mulder sitting on the bed rubbing his reddened cheek. "You were out of control." Skinner asserted. "Hmm?" Mulder was focused on Mark's desk. "The slap. You were out of control." Skinner wasn't apologizing, just stating facts. "Yes, sir." Mulder didn't seem to have followed the conversation. He stood and moved toward the small wooden desk. There was an outdated PC on it, and a stack of computer games on the shelf attached to the wall. "Games." Mulder mumbled. "Computers, Playstations, Nintendos. Toy store? Electronics?" Mulder was thumbing through the stack. "He had to have access somehow. He was escalating. I knew it. I should have realized." Skinner felt comfortable as long as Mulder kept moving. He was watching for signs that might lead to a repeat of the earlier incident. "Realize what, Agent Mulder?" Maybe if he kept Mulder engaged in conversation, he wouldn't go too deep. "That he'd eventually want a replacement. Need a replacement." Mulder chewed his bottom lip. "But it still shouldn't have happened so quickly." He was fiddling with the papers on the desk now. "He was hurt." "Who? The UNSUB?" Skinner queried. "No. Mark. That's why he was taken. That's why he moved his timetable up." Mulder was rubbing the stubble along the underside of his jaw. "What? How can you know that?" Skinner was incredulous. "Here." Mulder handed over what appeared to be a greeting card. He opened it to reveal a cheery picture of a smiling sun. The words "Get well soon!" appeared at the bottom. There were several scraggly signatures that couldn't be read, but a few words such as 'cast' and 'fall' could be made out. The card was dated the day before yesterday. Skinner felt an odd sense of relief. Mulder had deduced the events through the use of actual facts. But he was beginning to understand how he was tagged with the nickname 'Spooky'. The silence was broken by a shrill ring. They both reached for their pockets, fumbling for their phones. It was Mulder's. "Mulder." "Mulder, it's me." "Hey, Scully. What have you got?" "Nothing new. I found a few fibers of the same material on Mrs. Jackson's neck. I've bagged what I could and will be sending it on to the lab." "Good. We've found out that Mark Jackson had an accident before the kidnapping. Had some sort of cast. We need to check hospitals. I need more detail on the accident." "You think that's why he was taken?" "Got it in one, Scully." Mulder smiled on the other side of the line. "Are you heading back here?" Scully smiled back. She was washing up after just having pulled off her latex gloves. "Yes. We'll pick you up and head over to the station. We need to see what progress Engle's had and then compare notes." "I'll call over and get Engle to start a deputy on chasing down the hospital the Jacksons used." "Thanks, Scully. We'll be there in a few." "Okay, Mulder." * Click * Skinner had watched the exchange carefully. He didn't know yet what to make of his conversation with Agent Engle, but he thought now would be a good time as any to start paying a bit more attention to his two wayward agents. Were the rumors were true? He didn't know. Were they were any of his business? Sure as hell they were! He was their boss. Not only that, but he had found over the years that he cared for the two of them. They were a good team with a high solve rate. And he was determined to make sure that they stayed that way. But since he had no definitive proof either way, he decided to watch, wait, and bide his time. Since Mulder was already heading toward the front door, he decided to follow. Ch. 10 UNSUB's Home Santa Barbara, CA January 4, 2003 9:53 AM PST "Shhh." He rubbed the child's back in a circular soothing motion. The quiet sobs continued to echo off the papered walls. His eyes swept the room once again. He had set it up just like Jason's room, except for one or two upgrades. Instead of the Playstation he now had an Xbox. Instead of the old 386 PC he now had a Pentium. There were the usual posters on the wall; Mark Maguire, Michael Jordan. He should have everything he needed to make him happy. So why was he crying? "Are you hungry? Do you want a snack?" "NO!" The child swiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve. "I want my mom!" The child pulled away and ran toward the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He could still hear the sobs and sniffles through the door. Well, if that's what he wanted, that's what he was going to get. *** Sheriff's Department Santa Barbara, CA January 4, 2003 1:13 PM PST The squeak of door hinges alerted the quartet to their visitor before the Sheriff was able to completely enter the room. Hat in hand, he nodded a greeting to the four agents. "Ma'am, sirs." Skinner stood and held out his hand. "Afternoon, Sheriff. I'm Assistant Director Walter Skinner. I want to thank you for the use of your facilities and all of the help you and your deputies have been." "Sheriff Crane." They shook hands. "But I should be thanking you. You're helping with MY case, not the other way around." "Of course, Sheriff. We never meant to imply otherwise." Skinner re-seated himself as he spoke. "Now what can we do for you?" The Sheriff remained standing, while he eyed the newcomer. "Well, Mr. Skinner, I'd like an update on your progress. Do we have any idea where this bastard took Mark Jackson? Or if he's even still alive?" "He's definitely still alive." Mulder asserted. "And what makes you so sure of that?" Crane's gaze flitted across the room until it fell on Mulder's lanky form. "Because everything has been leading up to this." Mulder stood and began pacing the back of the room. "I should have seen it sooner." His hand came up to wipe across his haggard features. "In every case so far, he's been protecting the children. He made sure that none of them could get out of their rooms. He made sure that none of them would find their parents after the fact. He wanted to - " "Wait a minute." Sheriff Crane interrupted. "Alicia Harris was the one who called in the 911 on her parents. She found the bodies." "Yes, but Alicia is 15. She wasn't the UNSUB's target. Tommy was. He was protecting Tommy, her 9 year old brother. He didn't care whether Alicia found the bodies, just Tommy." Mulder's movements were slowing as he once again found himself facing the wall of crime scene photos and family portraits. "His son was most likely 9 or 10 when it happened. He wouldn't stray too far from the original. Mark will be turning 11 in February. He's just the right age. Don't you see?" "No, I don't see, Agent Mulder. What happened? And how do you know he has a son?" "Had a son, Sheriff. He's dead. That was probably the trigger that started our UNSUB on his downward spiral. The final stressor for him was the divorce." Mulder was pacing again. His eyes were darting around the room in a distracted pattern. "Our UNSUB is in his mid 30's to late 40's. He comes from a dysfunctional family, most likely having been raised by his father. His mother either passed away when he was very young, or she abandoned them. His father abused him verbally, but not physically. "Growing up, the desire to have his own family became increasingly prevalent. He married young and had a child. After the birth of his son, he would have been much more relaxed. His obsession with having a family would be somewhat appeased." Mulder stopped once again, this time facing the group. Scully watched as the tension in his body increased. His back was ramrod straight. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides. She could tell that he wasn't really looking at them, instead watching the play of images across his mind's eye. "He relaxed enough to allow his wife to go back to work. Part time, of course. And only after his son had started full days at school. But that was a mistake. She should have been at home taking care of their son. "For days when work ran late, she had given their son a house key. He would let himself in and wait for her to get home. Our UNSUB didn't find out until after. He never knew that she wasn't home to greet their son every day after school. Not until it was too late. "There was an accident." Mulder shook his head. His eyes cleared slightly as he glanced over at Scully. She caught his eye and they exchanged a look. Mulder's features visibly relaxed. "The death of their son caused a rift between the couple. Our UNSUB blamed his wife for the accident. He made no attempt to hide this from her. Their eventual separation and then divorce was the final straw for him. The last little pieces of his dream family had shattered." Mulder took his seat next to Scully. "And now he wants it back." Jon had been watching Mulder throughout the profile. He had come to a few of the conclusions himself, but with nowhere near the depth of detail into the UNSUB's mind that Mulder had gone. "So at first, he was content to just 'protect' the children. Going after the parents who were leaving their children at home to fend for themselves. The latch key kids." Jon broached tentatively. "Yes." Mulder turned to regard Engle. "But it wasn't enough. Just protecting the children wouldn't bring back his dream of having a family of his own." "So now he's decided to what? Replace his kid?" Sheriff Crane asked dubiously. Mulder ignored his incredulous stare. "It would have happened eventually. Mark's accident just upped his time table." "Well, now that he's got a replacement, now what? Does that mean we've got some time before he kills again?" Skinner questioned. "Yes and no. He won't kill again. Not unless he decides that Mark isn't 'right' for him." Mulder scrubbed at his jaw. "But he still doesn't have his family back. He's missing a vital component." "A mother for his son." Engle prompted. "But how will he choose her?" Scully looked toward Mulder. "He doesn't have to choose one. He already has one." Mulder looked back to see Scully's confused stare. "That doesn't make any sense. He blames his wife for his son's death. Why would he want her back to take care of his 'new' son?" Scully questioned. "Because he craves redemption. For himself, his wife, his family. He wants to start over. He thinks that if he can control the environment, he can keep it from happening again. And absolve himself." Mulder stood staring at Mark Jackson's family portrait, a new addition to the war room wall. "He's convinced himself that if he had known his son was a latch key kid he would have put a stop to it. He would have forced his wife to stay home. He would have prevented the accident." "So where do we go from here?" Sheriff Crane piped in. "This is where Agent Engle comes in." Mulder seated himself once again, gesturing toward Engle. "What can you tell us?" Engle stood and began handing out a stack of papers to each member of the group. "As you know, we began with a list of well over 15,000 divorces within the surrounding counties." He re-seated himself and began flipping through the papers in front of him. "We were able to narrow this list down to about 8,000, given Agent Mulder's original profile of the UNSUB. Cross-referencing this list with the list of boys ages 8 to 11 who died within the past 5 years has narrowed the list even further." "Agent Mulder instructed us to focus on men who were living in Santa Barbara County at the time of their sons' deaths. The list is now down to a possible 125 suspects." "That's still too many to move on." Skinner noted. He was becoming increasingly frustrated. It seemed as if they were so close. He turned toward Mulder. "What can we do to narrow this down further?" "I need time to work on the profile some more. I need to figure out where he's meeting these kids. He's got to be getting his information from somewhere. In the mean time, you can try to eliminate anyone whose ex-wives are deceased. She's definitely still around, at least for now." Mulder was already gathering the case file closer, his right hand reaching out for a pen and a blank pad of paper. Ch. 11 The rest of the group dispersed at Mulder's obvious dismissal. Sheriff Crane left the room intent on interrogating his deputies as to the progress of their research, Engle in tow. Skinner went out to make use of an empty desk in order to check up on headquarters. Scully was the last to leave. "How about I order a couple of pizzas for lunch?" "Go ahead, Scully, I'm sure the guys would appreciate it." "I'm not worried about the guys, Mulder." She briefly touched his shoulder. He looked up into her worried face and sighed. "Thanks, Scully, but I'm not really hungry right now. I could really use a few hours alone to work on the profile." "I know that, Mulder. But I haven't seen you eat anything since before the accident. You need to eat something." "I think finding Mark is the priority right now, Scully." "What good will you be if you collapse from exhaustion and malnutrition? You haven't even fully recovered from the accident!" Scully snapped. Mulder's jaw clenched. "I don't need a babysitter, Scully. I can take care of myself." He spat the words out. "Mulder, do you remember what you said at the hospital? You told that doctor that I would make sure you were okay. And that's what I'm going to do." "Scully, I can't worry about that right now. He's taken a child. Mark's only 10. 10, Scully. He's scared. He probably doesn't even know what's happening, or where his parents are. I need to find him." He glanced up and then away. Scully's irritation fled at the haunted look in Mulder's eye. "I know, Mulder. I know you can't worry about it, but that's why I'm here." She caught his eye. They stared quietly at each other for a moment. Finally she stood. "When the pizza gets here, I'll bring you in a couple of slices. I'll make sure no one disturbs you, but please just try to eat something. Okay?" Mulder capitulated with a quiet, "Thanks Scully." He watched her walk out of the room, closing the door behind her. *** Sheriff's Department Santa Barbara, CA January 4, 2003 4:01 PM PST Skinner found Scully at an empty desk across the way from the war room. She was busy transcribing her notes from the latest autopsies, a cold slice of pizza sitting on a paper plate to her right. As he watched, he noticed her scrutiny of the war room door every few minutes. She seemed pensive as she chewed on her bottom lip. "Agent Scully." Lost in thought, she visibly jerked at the sound of his voice. "Sir?" "Is there something wrong, Agent?" "Wrong, sir? No." "Good. I wanted to ask you how Agent Mulder's doing. I'm a bit worried about my decision to allow him to sign himself out of the hospital so early. Do you think there is any cause for concern?" Scully debated her answer. She was worried, but she didn't want A.D. Skinner to think that Mulder was incapable of doing his job. She knew that wasn't the case. To her, his abilities weren't in question. "Well, sir. I think, under the circumstances, there was no other decision to be made." Hmm. Interesting answer. She didn't seem to be agreeing or disagreeing in any way. "Yes, but do you think that Agent Mulder's health could be in danger?" "No more than usual, sir." Skinner chuffed out a quiet chuckle. "That's not very promising, Agent." Scully allowed a small grin to tug at her lips before continuing. "Sir, you know that Mulder has a tendency to focus entirely on a case, especially ones involving child kidnappings. This ability to focus allows him to write extremely accurate profiles, but does expose him to exhaustion and a battered immune system. I'm a little concerned that the accident may exacerbate these conditions." Scully watched Skinner for his reaction. His face remained unchanged. "What do you suggest, Agent Scully?" Skinner knew she was right. He'd already borne witness to Mulder's fatigue over the past day and half. "I've already spoken to him about trying to eat. In fact, I left two slices of pizza for him in the war room about an hour ago. Hopefully he's at least taken a few bites." She sighed and looked back down at her laptop. "Well, I'm just going to check and see how the profile's coming." Scully hid a smile as she watched Skinner cross the room towards the commandeered interrogation room. *** Skinner entered to find Mulder engrossed in the case file before him. He didn't look up or acknowledge Skinner's presence in any way. The A.D. took a moment to assess his agent. The two slices of pizza were sitting at the end of the table, cold and untouched. The previously blank pad of paper was now flipped to the fifth page down and was half full of notes in Mulder's scraggly writing. There were three empty coffee cups on the table to his left. Mulder was a mess. It didn't look as if he had shaved that morning. Although he still wore his tie, it was askew and his jacket was thrown on the chair beside him. The top two buttons on his dress shirt were undone, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He had obviously spilled some coffee on the table, and a bit on himself, judging by the brown spots on his shirt. "Ahem." Skinner cleared his throat. Mulder still made no move to acknowledge his superior. He pulled out the chair in front of Mulder and took a seat. The scraping of the chair echoed throughout the room, causing Mulder to finally glance up from his work. "Nothing new yet, sir. I still need some time to develop the rest of the profile." "Well, I'd like to read what you have so far." Skinner reached across the table to grasp the notepad. "Sir, those are just my notes. I don't have anything new to add to the original profile report yet." "I realize they are just your notes Mulder, but I'd like to read them anyway. Why don't you finish your lunch while I read these? It will only take a few minutes and then I'll leave you to continue your work." Skinner eyed him levelly. "I'm not really hungry, sir. I'll just go get another cup of coffee." Skinner's arm shot out to stop Mulder from standing. "That wasn't a request, Agent." Mulder scowled. "You can't force me to eat, sir." "No, but I can take you off this case." "You wouldn't do that, sir. There's no one else who can take it." "Mulder, this case is important. And saving Mark Jackson is important. But I will not allow you to put your own health at risk. I can and I will take you off this case if necessary." Skinner ended his speech with a growl. The two men stared at one another. Mulder was the first to glance away, reaching his arm across the table for a slice of pizza. "Scully got you doing her dirty work, sir?" He made a face at his first bite of the cold food. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mulder." Skinner caught Mulder's scowl. "If you had eaten it when it arrived, it wouldn't be cold now." "Words of wisdom, sir. I'll be sure to remember them." Ch. 12 Motel 6, Room 143 Santa Barbara, CA January 5, 2003 2:32 AM PST "I need to go back to the crime scenes, Scully." Mulder sat slouched in the one chair of the room. He hadn't really gotten anywhere on his profile this afternoon. He still hadn't figured out the contact point. Scully watched him from across the room. His head was thrown back and he was staring up at the ceiling as he spoke. "Okay, Mulder. You can do the revisits tomorrow." "I'd like you to go with me. I need you there." He'd visited the first four scenes with Engle, and the last with Skinner. He couldn't help thinking that all the pieces were there; he just couldn't quite make them fit. He needed to go over each scene again. He needed to bounce his ideas off of Scully. "Sure, Mulder. The autopsy reports are complete. Skinner and Engle can take care of the research. There's not much more we can do on that end for now anyway." She regretted her words the moment they left her mouth. Mulder's face fell into an impassive mask. "Mulder.I didn't mean - " "No. You're right, Scully. They can't do anything until we can figure out the contact point. How the hell is he meeting these kids?" Mulder's fist slammed into the small round table next to him, the half cup of coffee splashing liquid onto its surface. Scully strode to the bathroom. She reappeared with a small face cloth to wipe up the coffee spill. When she was through, she took a seat on the spare bed facing him, their knees almost touching. Mulder's eyes were closed, his face pinched. Tentatively, she reached out to touch his hand. They were clasped together on his lap, his right thumb tracing circles on the back of his left hand. His eyes flew open at her touch. Her hand laid gently atop his. Her palm was warm against his cool skin. She gave a gentle squeeze as their eyes met. The color rose in her cheeks, but she did not remove her hand. The lines on his face smoothed out as the silence stretched. Slowly, his left hand disengaged from his right. Pulling it out, he laid it atop her own, cradling her hand in his. "Scully, I - " Her hand recoiled at the knock on the door. Her arms crossed to hug her abdomen, the color still high on her cheeks. Skinner surveyed the room as the door opened. Mulder was sitting at the small table the room provided. Papers were spread on its surface and the bed nearby. His gaze swept the room, noting that at least the covers on the other bed were intact. "Scully." He nodded at her. "Sorry to disturb you so late, but I see that you're still up." He gestured at the papers laying on the spare bed. "Yes sir. We were just discussing the case." Though her color was returning to normal, Skinner was able to see the faint traces of her earlier blush. Discussing the case, huh? She closed the door and turned to her superior. "What can we do for you, sir?" Mulder still sat quietly in the corner. "I was actually looking for Agent Mulder." "Well, you found me, sir." Mulder smirked. "Yes, I see that." He looked pointedly at his agent. "I wanted to discuss what your plans for tomorrow were going to be. We are still at an impasse in the research." Scully glanced at Mulder to see his jaw tense at Skinner's unintended slur. "We were just discussing that, sir. Mulder and I will be heading out to revisit the crime scenes tomorrow. Mulder thinks it will help him develop the rest of the profile. And since I haven't seen them yet, he thought a fresh pair of eyes would be a good idea." "That sounds like a good idea. I'll want you to check in at each crime scene so that I can gauge your progress. Agent Engle and I will remain at the precinct to ensure that the deputies on research duty stay on track. "Thank you, Agent Scully. I'm sure you'd like to get some rest now. I know we could all use some." He threw a glance at Mulder. Mulder sighed, getting to his feet. Either Skinner really wanted him to rest, since he was sure he looked like crap, or he was trying to tell him that he didn't want a repeat of his earlier conversation with Engle. Either way, he figured it was time to say goodnight to Scully. "Thanks, Scully." He threw her a crooked grin. "Why don't we meet for breakfast tomorrow and then we can head straight to the Hunts'?" "Sounds good, Mulder. I'll see you tomorrow." She walked them both to the door. "G'Night, Scully." "Goodnight, Mulder. Sir." "Agents." *** Hunt Home Montecito, CA January 5, 2003 8:17 AM PST Scully stifled a yawn. She hadn't gotten much sleep last night. After Mulder and Skinner had left, she had spent a few minutes straightening up the room, and then getting ready for bed. But even after having slipped beneath the sheets, her mind refused to allow her rest. She couldn't help feeling that her relationship with her partner was getting more and more complicated. She watched him as he absentmindedly swung the 'For Sale' sign on its hinges as they passed. A brief smile lit her face at his childish display. "We won't be here long, Scully." Mulder spoke as they entered the home. "They've already packed everything up for the move. I just wanted to do a quick walk through before we went to the Harris'." They walked through the now empty living room, entering the hallway to the right. At the back of the house was the master bedroom. She watched as Mulder paced the length of the room, his eyes not focusing on any single location. She noted that his walk was the normal steady gait she was used to. His injuries from the accident almost healed. She could still tell that he had some trouble moving from a standing position to a sitting position and vice versa, but otherwise he was in relatively good shape. "What do you think, Scully? How can he be hitting all three cities so efficiently?" Mulder was musing out loud. "Traveling salesman?" Scully ventured. "I don't think so. It doesn't feel right. I think he'd have hit a larger area if he that were his occupation." She watched as he chewed his bottom lip, his eyes shut in concentration. "Maybe he's a contractor? He had a job out here, and then one in Goleta, then one in Santa Barbara?" "And now he's got another in Goleta?" He thought for a moment. "No, it doesn't seem to fit for some reason. If he were a contractor how would he have met the kids? Unless he were working on their house? Or a mall or shopping center maybe?" Mulder sighed. "But we should probably check it out, see what kind of contractors have been working the three areas." "I'll let Skinner know when we check in. He can have Jon start that aspect of the research while we go on to the Harris'." Mulder suppressed a slight involuntary grimace. Scully didn't notice Mulder's reaction to her informality with Agent Engle's moniker. He was probably just over reacting after all the crap he'd been through in the past few days. But still it bothered him that Scully seemed to take to 'Jon' so quickly. He had noticed that she'd been calling him Jon, not Agent or even Engle, practically since they'd landed. "Okay. Well, you can call in now. We need to get going anyway. I want to do a run through at each site for you before we settle in at the Jacksons'. That's where we'll probably get the most information, since it's the most recent." Mulder's hand warmed the small of Scully's back as he led her to the front and out the door. *** Jackson Home Goleta, CA January 5, 2003 7:01 PM PST "Mulder, there must be hundreds of electronics stores in the area." "I know that, Scully. I told you, it's just a hunch. A feeling." "But if he worked at an electronics store, how would he have known about all five families in three different cities? It doesn't make sense." "I can't explain it. And I know that not even all five kids had the same electronic system, but they all had game systems. PCs, PS2s, Gamecubes. And kids at that age have a tendency to obsess over those games. Especially boys. You saw the number of video game magazines at the Lassiters'!" Mulder was getting frustrated. He couldn't explain why he thought the killer might have met them through an electronics outlet. But his mind had made a connection, and he thought it was important enough to at least follow up on. Scully was right, but so was he. Scully could hear the plea in Mulder's voice. She knew he couldn't always explain how he got to whatever conclusions his mind had drawn, but this was far fetched, even for Mulder. He was basing his entire assumption on extremely circumstantial evidence. Before she could open her mouth to answer Mulder was talking. "Okay, Scully." He took a long and deep breath. "If you think it's a waste of time for Engle and the deputies we'll just drop it for now." He took a seat on the small twin bed beside her his eyes focused on the opposite wall. Scully frowned. That was definitely not like Mulder. Giving up? "Mulder, are you okay?" "Yeah, Scully. I'm just tired." He swiped his open palm across his face. "And I'm just not sure how close we are. I don't know what the UNSUB will do next, because I don't know what Mark Jackson will do next. If he doesn't behave the way the UNSUB expects, or wants, it may just trigger an even bigger event than the original stressor. And if we don't find our UNSUB's ex-wife soon, she'll be thrown into that explosive equation as well." His head now rested in his hands, just above his knees. "We have to find them soon. Within the next 48 hours, or I can' t guarantee that Mark Jackson will still be around to be found." The whispered words carried through the quiet room to Scully's ears. "Okay, Mulder. If you think that there's a chance that our UNSUB could be connected through an electronic outlet, then we'll chase that lead. You're the profiler." She felt her hand steal out to comfort him, but pulled back before making contact. She wasn't sure if either of them were stable enough for a repeat of last night's encounter. "Geez, Scully if I'd known I could get you to change your mind by just agreeing with you, I would have tried it a long time ago." His grin was contagious and she answered it as she threw back, "You catch more flies with honey, Mulder." *** Ch. 13 Sheriff's Department Santa Barbara, CA January 5, 2003 10:53 PM PST Agent Engle's eyes swept the room. He was just returning from a food run, since no one had remembered dinner until about 30 minutes ago. He was laden down with copious bags of burgers, fries, and drinks from the nearby In & Out. Despite the circumstances, he smiled slightly. He would at least try to get to eat at all his local favorites while he was in town. It looked as if A.D. Skinner had not yet returned from the motel. He had left about the same time as Jon to go take a quick shower and change, since it looked like they might all be in for the night. He found Agents Mulder and Scully in the war room. Both heads were bent in study over the various faxes that littered the table. Neither acknowledged his presence. He examined them for a moment. He hadn't really spoken to Mulder since the morning of the accident. He didn't really know what to say. After his talk with A.D. Skinner, he just wanted to forget the whole thing. So far, Mulder was proving to be as brilliant as his solve rate indicated. They were close, and Jon wasn't anywhere near arrogant enough to believe that they would be here without Mulder. And really, it didn't bother him one way or the other. He'd been embarrassed at the situation as, he thought, anyone would be. Whether Mulder and Scully were more than just partners was none of his business. At least that's what the A.D. had told him. Anyway, it wasn't like it was interfering with the case. "I've brought burgers," Engle announced, taking a seat. Scully looked up at Mulder's grunt of acknowledgment. She was already reaching into the bags to find her stash of the fries. "Mulder, you do know that you have to do more than just grunt at the food, don't you?" He acknowledged her quirked eyebrow by taking a fry and stuffing it in his mouth before returning his gaze to the invoices spread before him. He'd found that taking a few quick bites was easier than arguing with her. The invoices were for several of the video games and equipment found at each murder site. He was hoping to find a link between them. But they were still waiting on the trace from the games found at the Lassiter and Jackson homes. Scully unwrapped the first burger she pulled out and pushed it toward Mulder. "You might as well eat, Mulder. We're still waiting on the rest of the data." She was already biting into her own. "Scully, it's here. I can feel it." He shuffled the papers, trying to make a connection. "Do you mind if I take a look?" Jon asked, wiping his greasy hands on a crumpled napkin. Mulder quirked an eyebrow at him. "Fresh eyes?" Jon offered. Shoving the faxes toward Engle, Mulder shrugged. He took another fry, ignoring the unwrapped burger. Scully pursed her lips in resignation. Well, at least he was eating something. "Agents," Skinner greeted them. "Sir. There's an extra burger in the last bag there," Agent Engle gestured. "Thank you, Agent." He took his seat next to Scully, facing Mulder. "Where are we?" "Well, sir, we're checking on employees who might fit the profile at most of the local electronic stores. Best Buy, Circuit City. It's important to check any possibles, but I doubt our UNSUB will be from one of the larger chains." Mulder had already gone over this with Scully, but he understood why she insisted that they check all possible leads. "He's a solitary person. His low self-esteem didn't allow him to develop any lasting healthy relationships growing up. He's much more comfortable alone or with a small group, though if pushed, he can handle larger crowds for short periods of time." Skinner took a bite of his burger and handful of fries before responding. "What about the invoices? Any leads yet?" "We're still waiting on the last fax from the lab. They haven't finished tracing the items at the Lassiter and Jackson homes. We should be receiving it within the hour." Scully's tongue peeked out to dab at the mustard at the corner of her mouth. Mulder's eyes flicked up to catch the scene. He blinked once slowly. 'Believe it or not I'm walking on air.' "We've been through the invoices we already have, but we haven't been able to find any links. We're hoping that the last fax will yield something more substantial." This time he took a handful of fries and popped them into his mouth. "Sir?" Jon ventured. Three pairs of eyes swiveled to meet his. "I think I've found something." He turned the pages so that they were facing the other three occupants of the room. "These two stores here are the same. Well, I mean, they're owned by the same person. At least they were about 9 years ago when I was still in school here." He was pointing to two different invoices. "Software City and Electric Ave?" Scully queried. "Yes. They're not stores exactly. You know those carts in the mall?" He paused for their nods of understanding. "That's what they are. This guy owns like 5 or 6 of them. At least he used to. I had to take an Econ course to graduate so I took one that focused on local area businesses. This guy was on the syllabus. I never actually met him. He wasn't one of the ones that guest lectured. But I remember reading about it because I used to buy all of my PC games at Software City." "You're sure?" Mulder was already reaching for the stack of papers. "Yeah. I don't remember the names of all his carts, but we can probably get them from the chamber of commerce. He was a member, at least back then." "But Mulder, if he's the owner, that means that he wouldn't have been on site. How would he have met the kids?" Scully debated. "Oh, he's not on site, usually. But he used to go to each site once a month or so. My prof. said that's why he was such a good businessman. He didn't lose sight of his customers' and employees' needs because he made sure to keep in touch with it all," Jon answered. "Well, we should at least wait on the last of the invoices. We need to make sure he can be linked to all five families." Scully insisted. "You're right, Agent Scully. But we can at least look into the suspect in question. We need to know what and where his other locations are." Skinner began organizing tasks. "It's him, Scully." Mulder's eyes peered calm and clear into hers, before turning toward Engle. "What's his name?" "I remember it because I thought it was unusual. His first name was just an initial." Jon's brow furrowed in thought. "J. His name was J Charles Addison." *** Addison Home Montecito, CA January 5, 2003 11:27 PM PST At the sound of the soft knock, Elizabeth Parker Addison opened her front door. She had been on her way down to the kitchen to heat up a glass of warm milk when the rap had caught her attention. She took a quick peek through the peephole before taking the chain off the door, her irritation evident. She hadn't seen him in at least 6 months. Maybe he was finally here to drop off her alimony check. "JC?" Her frown let him know what she thought of the late hour. "Liz." He stepped into the foyer without invitation. "Jason needs you." She was unconscious before his statement could fully penetrate her tired haze. Ch. 14 Addison Family Home Santa Barbara, CA January 6, 2003 7:20 AM PST Liz's eyes fluttered open. There was a dull throbbing in her head and she felt groggier than her usual morning wakefulness. When she tried to sit up her head began to spin, so she quickly lay back down. She opened her eyes to stare at an unfamiliar ceiling. She turned her head and took in the rest of the room. It was fairly sparse. The bed, a desk, and a small night table were the only furniture. There was an alarm clock on the night stand indicating that it wasn't even 8 AM yet. Slowly, the events of last night came back into focus. She had been heading down for a drink when JC had shown up at her door. The last thing she remembered was letting him into the house. "Oh, my god." The words were whispered in shock. With sudden clarity, she remembered the last words JC had spoken. "He's crazy." Her head swiveled to the door as it swung open. "Good morning, dear." JC smiled wide when he saw his wife was ready to start the day. *** Addison Home Montecito, CA January 6, 2003 8:12 AM PST Scully watched as Mulder circled the living room. She noticed his hands were shaking slightly as he rubbed his jaw in concentration, the stubble on his face leaving his skin red with irritation. He was tired, but they were all tired. They'd been up all night tracing the victim families back to Addison. They'd finally located his ex-wife, one Elizabeth Addison, only to find that they had been too late. Though there was no sign of forced entry, the front door had been unlocked and there had been no sign of the former Mrs. Addison. Her boss confirmed that she had been at work on Friday, January 3rd. Her abduction must to have occurred sometime after 5:30 PM that day. Mulder doubted that the kidnapping had taken place before Sunday. Addison had only taken Mark on the 2nd and he would have needed a few days to settle in his new 'son', and plan his wife's abduction. Scully knew that Mulder would be taking on his requisite burden of guilt for Elizabeth Addison's abduction. She'd watched him become increasingly agitated since arriving at the site. "Too late." Mulder mumbled, sitting in an overstuffed armchair, hands rubbing at his scalp and face. Scully moved to sit on the matching ottoman, her hands reaching out to grab his. She pulled them away from their self-castigating mission to cup them between her palms. "Mulder?" she called to him softly. One hand stole out to brush a stray lock from his forehead. She could spend the next day trying to convince him he wasn't to blame, but it would do no good. "We don't have time for this. Elizabeth Addison doesn't have time for this." His eyes remained downcast. Scully reached up to cup his cheek with her palm. "Mark Jackson doesn't have time for this." He pulled away from her, visibly strengthening his resolve. She watched him, admiring the power and strength he exuded. When he was able to focus his concentration, he was amazing. His eyes took on an intense glare as he once again stood, studying the room around them. He found himself at the fireplace mantle. A collection of pictures in colorful frames decorated its surface. "Scully?" She stood to join him. "What do you see?" "I'm assuming that's Jason Addison." She indicated the photo montage. "Look at this one." It was a picture of the young boy, his body half turned as he waved to the camera, a bright red backpack on his shoulders. "See there?" Mulder pointed to a section just above Jason's shirt collar. Scully leaned in and squinted her eyes. "What is it, Mulder?" "The shoelace, Scully." He pointed again. "See the strand there? He must have worn the house key around his neck to keep from losing it." "I guess Addison thinks it's poetic justice to use it as the murder weapon?" "It probably started out that way. Now it's just become another obsession. The murder isn't complete without it." Mulder continued to study the photograph. "The other victims. He must have noticed the children during the original purchases. I'm sure that some of the children must have visited the mall on their own, after school most likely. I bet if we ask, the children will all tell us that they also wore their keys for safe keeping. It's a pretty common practice." "Well, at least now we know how he's been picking his victims." Scully offered. "Yeah. A lot of good that did Elizabeth - " Mulder was interrupted by a chirp from his breast pocket. "Mulder." "Agent, we've gotten Addison's current address." "We'll be there in ten minutes, sir." *** Addison Family Home Santa Barbara, CA January 6, 2003 10:13 AM PST "Shhh. Don't worry, honey." Elizabeth cradled the small child to her, rocking back and forth on the bed. "I want my mommy!" Mark cried, hugging Elizabeth's waist. "I know, sweetie. I know." She kissed the top of his head as she tried to soothe him. "You'll be back with her soon. I promise." Shortly after JC had entered her room this morning, he'd told her that Jason had been very upset that she had left. He said that Jason had been asking for his mommy. When he came back about an hour later with breakfast, he had brought 'Jason' with him. She'd soon found out that the poor boy's name was Mark. He didn't know how long he'd been here, just that JC had woken him up one night and carried him out of his home. He didn't know where his mommy and daddy were. From the second she had awakened this morning, it was clear to her that JC had gone mad. The reality of Jason's death was no longer a part of JC's world. Although he hadn't shown any violence since her initial kidnapping, she only halfheartedly believed her promises to reunite Mark with his parents. God, what were they going to do? Mark's sobs were slowly quieting as she continued to hold him close. The door swung open as JC strode in. He was smiling at the picture his wife and son made. "See, I told you he'd feel better once he saw you!" He beamed at them both. Ch. 15 Sheriff's Department Santa Barbara, CA January 6, 2003 11:51 AM PST Scully pressed the pads of her fingers to her temple, trying unsuccessfully to rub away her headache. They were once again in the war room, going over the most likely prospects for Addison's hideout. The list was narrowed down to two likely properties. One had been the first home that the Addisons had bought together; a typical two bedroom starter home they'd purchased in the early 90's. When Addison's business began to grow, they bought a larger home in the more luxurious area of Montecito. That was Elizabeth Addison's current residence. Instead of selling their first home, they decided to rent it out. During the divorce, JC had taken possession of the property. Their second possibility was an old house originally owned by JC's father. The senior Addison had passed away a little over two years ago, leaving the old cottage home to his son. Both properties were in Santa Barbara, although they were about 25 - 30 minutes apart. Mulder was trying to determine whether one was a more likely choice than the other when Jon re-entered the room. He watched as Engle took a seat next to Scully, handing her a glass of water and a small bottle of aspirin. He scowled at Scully's brief grin and silent thank you. Scully caught a flash of Mulder's expression before he schooled his features. She threw him an inquiring look but was ignored. Mulder cleared his throat. "Okay, now that everyone's here." He gave Engle a pointed look. Jon had also caught Mulder's expression, and so ignored the implied jibe. Maybe he was a rookie profiler, but even he could see the hostility the other agent was trying to suppress. "Get on with it, Mulder." Skinner prompted. Mulder managed to look slightly chastened. "Either property could be it. We should keep a team on JC's home, but I doubt he'll go back there. He's with his family now. They're going to stay together in whatever home he deems theirs, until one of two things happens." The cadence of Mulder's voice was losing inflection. "There can only be two outcomes. We catch him. Or eventually Elizabeth and Mark do something 'wrong' and he kills them." Skinner suppressed a shudder. He couldn't quite understand how Mulder could describe the killer's thoughts and actions in such a dull, emotionless way. He glanced to his left to see a small frown marring Scully's features, her eyes fixed on her partner. "Mulder?" Scully ventured. Mulder remained silent. His eyes focused on the conference room table. She took a furtive glance at Skinner and Jon before reaching out. To Skinner's astonishment she placed her hand atop Mulder's and leaned in to once more murmur his name. "Mulder?" Jon watched the scene with interest. He hadn't yet been able to observe Skinner's reaction to Mulder and Scully's 'partnership' and was curious to see his response. Scully's face was flaming red. She knew both Skinner and Engle were watching her and that her behavior was not only abnormal but unprofessional as well. She cringed inwardly, but kept her outward appearance calm, save for the blush. Under normal circumstances, she would never touch Mulder so openly or intimately, especially in the company of other agents. But while he was profiling she knew that sometimes only human contact could bring him out of wherever his brilliant mind would take him. Jon watched Skinner from the corner of his eye. He didn't appear to be affected by the display in front of them. His facial expression had not changed and he made no comment. Skinner was studying the interplay between his agents. Mulder still remained silent. He could tell that Scully was embarrassed at the situation, yet she continued to hold Mulder's hand. He watched as her other hand came up to rest below Mulder's chin. She tipped his head until his eyes were facing her own and called his name once again. Mulder's eyes cleared and he shook his head slightly. As soon as Mulder revived, Scully pulled her hands back, the blush in her cheeks slowly dissipating. Oblivious, Mulder continued as if he had never paused. "We need to split up. We should hit both houses together. We don't have time to go to one then the other. We don't know how much time Mark and Elizabeth have left." Mulder turned toward Scully, looking for her reaction to his plan. It was then that he noticed the color in her cheeks. She wasn't looking at him, but instead took one or two quick peeks at Engle from below her lashes. Mulder's mood darkened. Scully cursed her fair coloring. She knew all three men were able to see the bright blush still staining her cheeks. Skinner was one thing. He had a vague idea of Mulder's state of mind during these kinds of cases. He had even told her about Mulder's lapse at the Jackson home and the subsequent slap. Scully thought that he would at least understand the situation. But she was worried that Agent Engle would wonder at their familiarity. She was relieved to see that he wasn't exhibiting any outward reaction. At the sound of Skinner's voice, she raised her gaze to meet his. "Okay, then. Engle, you're with me. Mulder, Scully, you take the father's home, and we'll take the starter home." Ch. 16 Addison Family Home Santa Barbara, CA January 6, 2003 12:11 PM PST Mark had quieted down as Elizabeth continued to whisper words of comfort. Her eyes wandered around the room, hoping for some form of escape, or at least a weapon of some kind. There were no windows and the only exit was through the main door. If they were going to get out, she had to overpower JC, but she wasn't sure she would be able to. He wasn't much taller than she, but he had a larger frame. And she hadn't exactly been making all of her aerobics classes in the last few weeks. She needed a weapon. Unfortunately, there wasn't much in the room. She'd already searched the drawer of the small nightstand, but found nothing. It looked like the only useful things in the room might be the small table lamp, or even the alarm clock. If nothing else, she could use it as a projectile. Her main concern would be getting both her and Mark out together...if she even had a chance at all. "Good afternoon." The door swung open to reveal the smiling face of her ex-husband. "JC." Elizabeth gave him a tentative smile back. One thing she had already learned within the past twenty-four hours was that if she wanted to survive, she needed to play along. "Honey." He pecked her on the cheek. She hid her grimace from him. "How is Jason doing? Feeling better?" He placed his hand on the small of Mark's back in a comforting gesture. Mark cringed and pulled away. Elizabeth saw JC's features darken. Her arms unconsciously tightened around the child. "He's just tired, JC. " She tried to reassure him. "He should probably take a nap." JC's mood lightened at the suggestion. "You're right. He still hasn't fully recovered from the accident." JC fingered Mark's cast as he spoke. "It's a good thing you were home to take him to the hospital." "Yes, " Elizabeth answered softly. She held back the hysterical sob that threatened. She knew JC blamed her for Jason's death. A small part of her felt the same. She wasn't going to have another child's death on her conscience. Her grip tightened, causing Mark to whimper softly. She loosened her hold, but JC had heard the small child's response. "Why is he still so upset?" JC's brow furrowed. "Why doesn't he stop crying?" "He has stopped, JC, " Elizabeth reasoned. But at the sound of anger in JC's voice, Mark's breath had started hitching once again. "Jason! You're a big boy now. The accident was days ago. Don't be such a sissy, " JC admonished him. Mark jumped out of Elizabeth's lap. He stood facing JC, his face scrunched up in a stubborn scowl. His cheeks were still wet from tears of fear and anger. "My name's not Jason!!!" he screamed. Mark went down hard at the smack to his face. He lay whimpering on the floor, Elizabeth kneeling beside him, trying to cover his slim form with her own. She looked up at the man she once thought she loved. "Please. He's just tired. I'll take care of him, "she whispered. "You'd better teach him not to talk back to me. Jason would never - " He paused, then shook his head. "Jason should never talk back to me." *** Sheriff's Department Santa Barbara, CA January 6, 2003 12:32 PM PST Mulder was shrugging on his vest when he spied Skinner. He handed the A.D. a vest of his own. "Sir." "Mulder." Skinner returned his agent's greeting. Mulder had a faraway look in his eye, and Skinner wondered about its origin. Both teams were readying themselves to soon leave for their operations. Mulder had spent the morning in the war room, trying to add more detail to his profile. The more informed they were, the better they would be able to handle Addison's reactions upon being found. His agent was probably still dwelling on the unknowns of the case. As he donned his own vest, he studied Mulder. It looked like had lost some weight since the start of the case; alarmingly, Skinner realized that was only eight days ago. He obviously hadn't shaved this morning, or even yesterday. Skinner wondered if he'd remembered to eat in the past twenty-four hours. As he watched, he noticed Mulder's periodic sweeping of the room, his eyes constantly settling on the same location. Following his line of sight, Skinner sighed. Across the room, the A.D. watched as Engle and Scully checked their weapons. They were too far away for him to hear their conversation, but he assumed that they were discussing the case, although the chuckle from Engle had him doubting his presumption. Mulder's features were an impassive mask when Skinner turned to regard him. Mulder's vest now secure, he pulled his weapon from its holster. "We leave at 1300 hours, Mulder. We'll be able to keep in constant communication through the radio ear pieces." "Yes, sir. Remember that he's extremely unstable. He's probably deteriorating fast. Everything that Elizabeth and Mark do that doesn't fit into his fantasy family will cause him to become even more volatile." Mulder's eyes were still sweeping the room as he outlined his cautions to Skinner. "Yes, Mulder, we've already discussed this. We'll all take the proper precautions. That's why none of us are going without backup." "I know, sir. I'm just not sure what he'll do once we find him." Mulder scrubbed at his jaw. "As I told everyone in the war room, he's probably not expecting us. He doesn't actually realize what he's done is wrong. He's already incorporated Mark and Elizabeth into the fantasy and actually believes that they are his family. " Mulder re-holstered his gun, checking to make sure the extra clips were secured on his vest before he continued. "Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that he's killed, and that there will be repercussions. But at the same time, he's living in a paradox, because now that he has his family back, he's thrown himself into the time before Jason died, before he'd killed anyone." The agent's brow furrowed, reasoning out the logic. "It will be almost like he's two different people. That will increase the likelihood of a breakdown. The present and the past will be clashing in his head and soon he won't be able to keep them straight anymore. All I know for sure is that he'll be confused. He won't understand what we're doing there. But he will defend his fantasy. He's finally got his son and the woman he loves. He won't give them up easily." Mulder's voice had quieted at the end of his speech. Skinner once again followed his line of sight to find Scully standing by herself, a cup of coffee in her hand. Skinner watched his agent for a few moments. Mulder was obviously distracted and not surprisingly, by his partner. Yet he was still able to focus enough on the case to re-emphasize his earlier warnings. "How are you feeling, Agent Mulder?" He broke the silence. "Fine, sir." The answer was clipped. "Don't worry, Mulder, " he reassured the agent. "I'm not about to take you off the case or ban you from this operation." "Thank you, sir." Mulder nodded. "But I am actually feeling much better. If I weren't, it wouldn't be you that I'd be worried about." Mulder smirked as he glanced toward his partner. Skinner chuckled. "Well, I'm glad that there's someone you actually take orders from." "I don't think she would agree with you, sir." He sighed. They were quiet for a moment. "Come on, Agent." He slapped Mulder on the shoulder. "Let's get some coffee." Ch. 17 Scully watched the two men as they made their way across the room. She felt a small ball of uneasiness bouncing around her stomach. She was tempted to blame it on the upcoming operation, but had a feeling that it had more to do with the strange looks her partner had been throwing her all day. Normally, she could decipher his looks with only a modicum of difficulty. That's why they made such good partners. She could read him as well has he could read her. But today, something seemed a bit off. She continued to peer at her partner from below her lashes. He was pouring himself a caffeine fix. She frowned, trying to remember the last thing he had eaten. He still wasn't fully recovered from the accident, and she couldn't remember him having anything more than coffee all morning. She noticed that he'd lost a few pounds this week. It wasn't anything she hadn't seen before, and he would most likely gain it back within the first two weeks they were back in DC. She had the fleeting thought that even with his current haggard appearance, he still looked good. He definitely looked like he hadn't slept, and his tailored suit looked a bit the worse for wear. But, she thought, the rumpled look was a bit sexy. He looked up at her then and caught her eye. She colored slightly and looked away, the idea that he could somehow sense what she was thinking flitting through her mind. *** Addison Family Home Santa Barbara, CA January 6, 2003 12:48 PM PST She recognized it now. He'd changed some of the furniture around, getting rid of most of it, really,which was why she didn't recognize it when she first awoke. Not that knowing where she was would have been all that big a help to her. She still hadn't found a weapon she could use, but at least he'd let them out of the room. He'd come back with some clothes for both her and Mark. They were now both dressed fairly casually. She was in khaki pants and a tank top with a white button up over it. Mark had on some blue jeans and a t-shirt with a dolphin on the front. It looked like JC had bought it from one of those tourist vendors on State Street. She pulled Mark behind her as the door swung open. Instead of seeing JC's smiling face she heard only a "you can come out now" from the hallway. She stepped cautiously out of the room, holding on to Mark's hand behind her. Walking down the hall, she had recognized the house. They reached the living room to find JC lounging in an overstuffed armchair with a newspaper. Her eyes darted to the hall leading to the foyer, wondering if she could get them both out before JC could catch them. "Hi, lazy bones. Sit down." JC indicated the couch. She sat stiffly, holding Mark in her lap. "JC, what's going on?" she asked tentatively. His eyes rose from the paper to meet hers. "Nothing, honey. Just checking the paper before we go out." Liz's eyebrows rose in shock. He was taking them out? This might be her chance. "Where are we going, dear?" She asked, her voice dripping with fake honey, hoping he wouldn't notice. "Oh, it's a surprise!" He beamed a smile at them. Elizabeth covered up her wince at the expression on his face. She'd have to watch and wait. If they were going somewhere public, could she just grab someone's attention? She didn't know. She'd never been in this type of situation before. God! Who had? So she sat staring at the walls and contemplating the situation, waiting for JC to take them on his demented version of a family outing. *** Sheriff's Department Santa Barbara, CA January 6, 2003 12:51 PM PST "Ahem." Skinner cleared his throat. He had been watching Mulder for the past 5 minutes. His agent hadn't said a word during the entire time. "Sir?" Mulder questioned as he turned to face his superior. "I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate all of the work you and Agent Scully have done on this case." Skinner watched as Mulder's eyebrow rose, laughing silently at the gesture he'd acquired from his partner. "You've managed to make more progress in the past week than they have in the past six months." "Thank you, sir, but we just happened to arrive just as Addison decided to escalate," Mulder demurred. "Regardless, your profile has been dead on so far." "Thank you, sir." "I know that it's virtually impossible for you to know which location Addison will be using..." "Yes, sir." Mulder nodded wearily. "We're taking a risk splitting the teams up." "I know, sir. I'm sorry, but -" "Agent Mulder, I'm not reprimanding you." Skinner interrupted. "There are times when decisions need to be made based on less than certain outcomes. We make these decisions to the best of our abilities." Skinner's eyes flicked away from Mulder's to land briefly on Scully. "In my experience, it's usually worth the risk." He paused for a moment. "So don't second guess yourself." "Thank you, sir." Mulder mulled over Skinner's words. He wasn't entirely sure, but he thought Skinner might be referring to more than just the case. He hadn't missed Skinner's brief study of his partner. Was Skinner actually telling him to 'go for it'? Then again, maybe he was just reading too much into the whole conversation. Either way, he didn't really have time to worry about it now. Hopefully, they would have both Mark Jackson and Elizabeth Addison home safe and the case wrapped up within the next twenty-four hours. Deciding to deal with it later, Mulder pushed everything but the case out of his mind. He stood, collecting his partner on the way out the door, his hand on the small of her back as they walked out to the parking lot together. Ch. 18 Addison Cottage Santa Barbara, CA January 6, 2003 1:27 PM PST Mulder pulled up to the cottage, the patrol car a few blocks behind. The car had been silent since they left the station, Mulder's mind occupied by the case. Expelling a deep breath, he turned toward Scully. "Ready, partner?" "Ready." Scully's eyes scanned the perimeter as she stepped from the vehicle. Mulder glanced behind them to see no sign of the patrol car. They had parked two streets down and just around the corner. He nodded his head in absent approval. Scully knew that they would be in constant contact. She tapped her ear piece firmly. "Testing. Johson? Lee?" "We read you, Agent Scully, " Lee answered. "Be ready to move on our signal, " Mulder responded. "Yes, sir." Mulder and Scully converged at the top of the front walk. In the back of his mind, Mulder knew that Skinner, Engle, and Crane were heading up their own walkway, with their backup two blocks down. Because Mulder believed that Addison wouldn't be expecting them, they didn't want to spook him by showing up with uniformed officers in tow. Both backup teams were in radio contact with their leaders and each other. The plan was to gain entry to the home using an innocuous excuse, like the tried and true car trouble or lost tourist. Hopefully, Addison would be so far into his fantasy that he wouldn't think twice about the situation. If he became nervous or refused entry, then the team was to retreat. The team at the incorrect site would then meet at Addison's location and they would all go in together. They reached the front door, Mulder ringing the bell. They heard it echo through the house, but no answering footsteps approached. Mulder waited a beat before peering through the etched glass at the top of the door. It didn't appear as if anyone had lived there for quite awhile. The couches still had dust covers and the living room had an empty feel to it. Just as his hand reached out to try the knob, the radio in his ear exploded with sound. "Sir! Beta team has an officer down!" *** Addison Family Home Santa Barbara, CA January 6, 2003 1:30 PM PST Liz clutched Mark's hand in her own as she followed JC out the front door. Her heart was hammering in her chest, the adrenaline pumping through her system. She had told JC that 'Jason' would need to use the bathroom before they left and had taken him back down the hall. She had tried to explain to him the necessity of being quiet and obedient until she could take him back to his parents. He had nodded but she doubted that he fully understood. She waited patiently as JC turned to lock the front door. Her eyes roved the neighborhood for any possible help. As JC slid the key home, Elizabeth caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned to find three men approaching on the sidewalk. Her mind spun frantically. Could she run fast enough with Mark in her arms? She shot a quick look back to find JC still facing the door. Her heart rate tripled as she pulled Mark toward her. She winced as he let out a small cry, but she had no time to hesitate. She sprinted across the lawn toward the men within seconds crying out, "Please! Help us!" *** Skinner heard the shout and was already pulling his weapon. Surveying the scene before him, he cried out, "Gun! Get down!" In his peripheral vision he saw both Crane and Engle taking a firing stance, both men hunched with one foot slightly forward from the other. He could see the woman running toward them, small child in hand. His gaze quickly moved past her to the man standing at the door, and he set his sights. Before he could fire, he felt a sharp sting as a bullet ripped through his muscle. Skinner went down, his glasses flying off his face as he hit concrete. The fierce burn was now giving way to a steadying numbness. He could feel the blood as it flowed thickly from the wound. He couldn't concentrate on the shouts around him, and as he felt strong hands grip his shoulders, he slipped into unconsciousness. *** What was going on? Before she knew, it a shot was fired. She saw one of the men go down,the one that had cried out to her. His tall build crumpled to the ground, his glasses flying off his face as he hit the pavement. She dropped, landing atop Mark to shield him from the gunfire as the shots continued. She heard another voice call out, "FBI, freeze! Put your weapon down!" This came from the young man in the center. He was hunching over the one on the ground now. The third man continued to fire at JC. Her shout echoed as she felt JC's hand wrap around her ankle. He pulled her roughly toward him. She struggled against him but he soon had his arm around her waist. She could smell the gunpowder and she shuddered. She took one last look at the officers before she was hauled back through the front door. Two more had arrived and were dragging the unconscious one away. The other two still had their weapons out and were scanning for JC. As the door closed in front of her, she felt a sob well in her throat at how close she had come. She collapsed on the carpet in the foyer. Her breath shallow and quick, the adrenaline was now draining from her body. She heard JC pacing behind her and muttering to himself. A soft whimper had her turning toward Mark. For a second her heart stopped. His face was almost as white as the carpet...at least, where his blood had not yet seeped in to turn it a dark shade of red. *** Ch. 19 Addison Family Home Santa Barbara, CA January 6, 2003 1:49 PM PST "Engle!" Jon whipped his head around at the call of his name. "What's the status? Where is Skinner?" Mulder was running up to him as he fired off his questions, Scully right behind. "Skinner's down, sir." Engle announced. "He took a bullet in the thigh. It must have hit an artery because they had trouble stopping the bleeding." "Where is he now, Jon?" Scully queried. "They took him to Santa Barbara General, ma'am." The EMT answered for him. "His blood pressure was down and he'd lost enough blood to leave him unconscious by the time we arrived." The EMT tied off the bandage to Engle's arm. "He should be fine once they transfuse him; the bullet went clean through. He'll be off the leg for at least 6 - 8 weeks, though, not including the physical therapy." "What the hell happened?" Mulder demanded, returning his focus to Engle and Crane. "The worst fucking timing in history, " Crane mumbled. Before Mulder could reply, Engle spoke up. "We arrived just as the suspect and hostages were exiting the house." Mulder's brow furrowed as he pictured the scene. "It seems that Elizabeth Addison caught sight of us first. J Addison was still turned toward the house, apparently locking up. She tried to grab Mark and make a run toward us, but Mark cried out, and that's when everything went to hell." Engle's gaze swept up to meet Mulder's. "She was running across the lawn when the first shot was fired." Engle's gaze dropped to the ground. "A.D. Skinner was the first to spot Addison's weapon. He yelled for everyone to drop but it was too late. Addison fired and Skinner went down." Crane took up the story from there. "We kept up cover fire as Deputies Bristol and Sloan arrived. They got Skinner to safety, but we couldn't do anything to prevent Addison from recovering Elizabeth and Mark and returning to the house." Engle heaved a tired sigh. "He grazed my arm with the last round. Once they got Skinner out, we retreated. It's been quiet ever since." "Shit!" Mulder cussed under his breath, his fingers running through his hair. Scully watched as Mulder paced before them. "At least we know both Mark and Elizabeth are still alive." "Or at least they were half an hour ago, " Mulder retorted, meeting Scully's gaze. He turned abruptly to regard Engle and Crane. "Did you see whether Addison or the hostages were injured in the exchange?" Both Engle and Crane denied any knowledge of the captives' injuries, though they were sure that if Addison were hit, he had been no more than grazed. Mulder's pacing continued. Scully knew that Mulder was already feeling guilty for Skinner's injuries. She stepped into his path, effectively stopping his motion. "Do you think that Addison might harm them now that we've cornered him?" she asked, trying to focus his mind on Addison. He considered for a moment before shaking his head. "No." He sighed. "Although if they were injured in the crossfire, there's no telling what his reaction will be. Right now he's confused, but he knows that we're a threat. He's trying to defend his family, even though he knows on a subconscious level that we aren't a physical threat to Mark and Elizabeth. He's reacting to the threat we pose to his family as a unit." "So what do we do now?" Engle asked. "We need to bring in a negotiator." Crane suggested. "No! None of that 'honesty, containment, conciliation, and resolution' crap!" Mulder protested. "It's not going to work here." He turned his head, his eyes focusing on Addison's house. "We're a danger to his dream. The only way to get Mark and Elizabeth out safely is to make him believe that his fantasy is real. To get him to let his guard down." Scully laid a gentle hand on his arm, regaining his attention. "But how do you suggest we do that, Mulder?" "By playing into the illusion, Scully." Mulder turned to gaze down the street. *** "Oh, God." The words were whispered from Liz's pale lips. JC stopped his frantic pacing to turn toward his wife. "What?!" he practically screamed at her before his eyes traveled to the spot by her side. He seemed to pause for a moment, his mind taking in the slight form of his son laying still on the floor. And then in the next heartbeat he was there. "Jason!" His broad hands shook as they skimmed over his son's body. A wave of relief swept over him as he registered the quick rise and fall of the boy's chest. The bullet had hit his shoulder. The front and back of his shirt was stained with blood. Liz didn't know anything about bullet wounds, but Mark had already passed out from the pain. "He needs a doctor. We have to get him to a hospital." Liz tried to reason with him. JC was torn. Every nerve in his body was screaming to move, to grab Jason and run to the nearest doctor. But those men...those men wanted Jason. Wanted Liz. He couldn't let that happen either. He'd do whatever it took to protect his family. 'Even letting them die?' a quiet voice in his head questioned. "We can't leave." He grabbed Liz's hand giving it a gentle squeeze in reassurance. "Those men are dangerous. They did this to him! And they're still out there." JC stood again to pace the room. Elizabeth's brow scrunched in frustration. Mark was going to die! And this was a death that definitely deserved to be on her conscience. She was the one that had tried to run. What could she do? "JC, he needs help." She turned to smooth the hair back from Mark's forehead. "He's dying." "Get the first aid kit. It's in the master bedroom bath." JC gestured toward the rear of the house. "That's not going to be enough!" Elizabeth stood to face off with her ex-husband. She took an automatic step back as JC's arm swung up to point the gun at her. "It will be enough, " he stated quietly. 'Oh, God! We're all going to die.' Liz thought as she turned to make her way down the hall. Just then, the phone on the end table began to ring shrilly. JC stopped his pacing to stare at the offending appliance for a moment. He then quickly strode across the room and picked up the receiver. "Who the hell is this?" he demanded. *** Jon's hand shook as he gripped the phone, Mulder's words echoing in his head. "Stay calm. Don't let him get you on the defensive. Just ask him if anybody was injured, but try to stay away from the details of the confrontation. Tell him that we have paramedics here who can help. If he says that no one was injured, try to insist that he let the paramedics in to check for shock, or anything else you can think of. Scully and I need to get inside that house." Stay calm. Stay calm. He cleared his throat. "Hello J. My name is Jon Engle. You can call me Jon. We just want to make sure that everyone is okay. Was anyone injured?" "You bastards shot my son!" Jon could hear the panic in Addison's hoarse exclamation. "It's okay, J. We have paramedics here that can help. How badly is Mark hurt?" Jon glanced up to watch Mulder and Scully pulling on the EMT shirts. Fuck! Mulder was listening in on the conversation as he changed into his gear. "Not Mark, Jason!" he hissed softly. "What the hell are you talking about?" JC demanded. Jon felt his face flush as he realized his mistake. Shit! "J.We just want to help Jason. We can have EMTs there within 10 minutes. Is he still conscious?" He held his breath waiting for J's answer. "No.he passed out a few minutes ago. Liz is getting the first aid kit." JC paused and took a ragged breath. "There's blood everywhere." "Don't worry, J. His body is just trying to conserve energy." Jon wasn't sure how serious the injury really was, but he needed JC to remain as calm as possible. "Will you let the paramedics in?" "Can they.will they help Jason?" JC's voice was hesitant. "Yes. That's what they're trained for, " Jon soothed. "Okay. But just them." Jon heard the phone click in his ear. "You're in." Jon turned to Mulder and Scully. Putting the phone down, he flexed his hand trying to restart his circulation. "You did good, Jon. You kept him fairly level and got him to agree to let us into the home." Mulder encouraged him. "And you didn't let your slip faze you." "Thanks, Agent Mulder." Jon took a few deep breaths, feeling his adrenaline level drop. "I wouldn't have put you through that if I didn't need someone on the outside for Addison to be talking to. Remember that Scully and I will both be wearing our radios, so you should be able to hear what's going on inside." Mulder was shrugging on the EMT jacket as he spoke. "We're going to try to talk him down. He may be agreeable if he thinks it will affect whether 'Jason' lives or dies." Mulder shook his head. "But we can't risk taking in our sidearms. I'll have my ankle holster, but that's it." Jon followed them as they walked toward the sidewalk. "Good luck, " he said as a farewell. Ch. 20 Scully's hand itched to check the holster that was normally clipped just below the small of her back. Knowing it wouldn't be there, she tightened her grip on the medical supplies she carried instead. She studied Mulder as they walked toward the front door. They had both changed into EMT uniforms before heading toward the house. His mop of brown hair was now covered with a dark blue cap. She felt her heart quicken at the sound of the doorbell, and took a few calming breaths. She knew from the debriefing with Jon that Mark had been hurt during the earlier exchange. She would minister to his wounds while Mulder tried to talk with Addison. More than likely, if Mark had been shot, they would have to get him to a hospital as soon as possible. Mulder would need to convince Addison to let them leave with the boy. She heard the click of the dead bolt. She turned to find Mulder giving her a reassuring glance and a nod as the door slowly swung ajar. It was stopped by the chain before it could fully open and a woman's head appeared. Before they could speak, the face disappeared and they heard hushed tones within. "It's just the emergency people, JC. " Scully couldn't hear the mumbled reply, but caught Elizabeth's worried plea. "Please, JC. Jason needs help." A murmured assent and the face reappeared. "Okay, you can come in. Please don't try anything." She gave them a pleading look. "I don't know what he's capable of, " she whispered urgently. They entered the living room together. Scully's eyes surveyed the area, noting the amount of blood loss visible in the puddles gracing the floor. They had placed Mark on the couch by the fireplace where he now lay unconscious. She immediately started for him when she heard a gasp from Elizabeth. "It's okay, sir." Mulder's voice was low and melodic. "My name's Mulder, and this is my partner Scully. She's one of the best. She's only going to try to help him." He indicated Scully and Mark with a gesture of his hand. Scully turned to see Addison pointing the gun at her, his hands shaking. She stood still, letting Mulder soothe the man with his balmy voice. Mulder tensed at Addison's notable agitation. Even if he hadn't spent the last few weeks studying the crime scenes and profiling this man, Mulder would have seen Addison's obvious discomfort with this rarely used weapon. The fact that he was pointing that weapon at Scully made Mulder's own hands clench, but he tamped down on his reaction. "Can you tell us where he was injured?" Mulder questioned him. "H-he was shot in the shoulder, " Liz replied hesitantly when JC remained silent. "They shot him!" JC's face began to turn a dark shade of red, his hand shaking violently. "That's right, JC. They shouldn't have done that." Mulder placated. He tried to assume a less threatening position, lowering his body to seem just a bit smaller and keeping his voice low and even. "Jason's hurt. He needs our help. Scully just wants to take a look at his shoulder." "She." JC's voice faltered, his hand lowering. "She can help him?" "Yes, just lower the gun and let her examine him." "Don't let him die." His voice was pleading. "We won't. But she can't help him if you don't let her." Mulder reminded JC that he was still holding the gun on Scully's still form. "Okay. Help him already!" JC used the gun he held to point at his son. Mulder gave a slight nod to Scully before she began to make her way toward Mark once again. She knelt down beside the couch, pulling a pair of latex gloves out of her medical bag. Someone had already taken Mark's shirt off, and tried to clean the wound. The bandages were already soaked through with his blood. She lifted the dressing and let out a small sigh of relief. At least the bullet had a clean exit wound. She checked Mark's vitals, noting his pulse was thready at best. Although he wasn't running much of a fever, his skin felt hot to the touch. She knew that if they didn't get him a transfusion soon they would most likely lose him. He'd been bleeding out for at least the last 25 minutes. Scully looked up from her work to catch Mulder's eye. "It's okay, JC. I'm just going to help my partner, " Mulder reassured as JC warily eyed his progress across the room. Once he reached her side, Mulder dropped to his knees next to the couch. "What's the status, Scully?" he whispered under his breath. "His vitals are extremely weak, Mulder. There's no way he'll make it if we don't get him some blood within the next 15-20 minutes. Engle made sure that the second EMT team would bring enough to at least start an IV en route, but we have to get him out of the house first." Mulder nodded, biting his bottom lip. "I'm not sure how he's going to react, Scully, so let me do the talking. Try not to move or draw attention to yourself while I negotiate with him." Scully had replaced Mark's dressings with new bandages while they spoke. She pulled off her gloves and nodded to Mulder to let him know she understood. She reached out quickly and wrapped her hand around his wrist to give him an encouraging squeeze before he could stand up completely. Their eyes met before Mulder turned back toward JC, and Scully took a position between Mark and JC's gun. Elizabeth had been watching the exchange between the two paramedics and knew that Mark was in trouble. A fresh wave of guilt assaulted her. They had to get him out of the house and away from JC if he had a chance of surviving. Before Mulder could speak, Liz's voice echoed through the room. "JC, why don't you let the EMTs take Jason to the hospital. He needs more help than he can get here, " she tried to plead with him. Mulder winced at Liz's choice of words. "No one's taking Jason away from me!" JC roared. His gaze immediately fell on Mulder and Scully, standing only a few feet apart. "Is that why they sent you in here?!" "No, JC. We only want to help." Mulder tried to draw JC's attention away from Scully and Mark. "But Elizabeth is right. Jason needs blood and we don't have any here." Mulder's eyes followed the gun's movement as it went from him to Scully and back again. Shit! He'd never get to his ankle holster before JC could fire off his first round. "You are not taking him away from me!" JC repeated, his gun having settled on Scully, the closer of the two to Jason. Just then the phone let out a sharp ring, before exploding into several parts. JC had fired the second the sound began. Farther off, the ring of the kitchen phone could be heard. "What the hell is this?" JC demanded. "Who the fuck is calling now?! Go get the phone, " JC ordered, pointing the gun at Liz. Both Mulder and Scully let out soft sighs of relief. Still in communication with Engle, they knew he would be the one on the other end of the phone. Mulder was impressed. Firing at the telephone had at least relieved some of JC's tension. Engle's timing was perfect. Liz returned to the room with the cordless phone. "It's Jon Engle, " she informed JC quietly. "What do you want now?" JC demanded. "Hello, JC. I just wanted to let you know that a second ambulance has arrived. Once you told me that your son had been shot, I called to make sure they brought blood and other supplies to help. They have all the equipment set up in the ambulance; we just need to bring Jason out to hook him up to the IV." "Why can't they do that in here?" "Some of the equipment is too large and needs to be hooked up to the ambulance. Plus, we need to start getting Jason to the hospital, and the sooner we get him there the sooner we get him proper care." "You just want to take him away from me!" JC accused. "No, JC. We just want to help." Engle was frantically trying to think of ways to calm the man down. "No one's taking anyone away. We just want to bring Jason to the best care possible." Jon's statement was met with silence. Mulder watched as JC's eyes lit upon Mark's still form. He could see JC's indecision. "JC? Are you still there?" Mulder could hear Jon's hesitant voice through the transmitter in his ear. "Just let Mulder and Scully bring Jason out so that we can help him." Engle's voice was soothing. No! Mulder knew the moment the words had left Jon's lips that JC was beyond reason. JC's eyes shifted to focus on the most immediate threat to his son, Scully. "Down!" Mulder screamed as he threw himself across the room toward his partner. The shots were loud in the small room. Pain exploded in Mulder's abdomen, two bullets ripping through his intestines. He landed in a heap at Scully's feet. Scully automatically reached back for the weapon that wasn't there, her heart trip hammering in her chest. Before he could fire another round, JC was tackled from behind. Liz cried out as she fell toward the floor with him, cracking her head on the end table that formerly housed the telephone. As she watched the couple go down, Scully's gaze fell on Mulder's slumped body, her eye catching on the glint of steel visible. She reached out a hand to snatch at the proffered weapon. Pulling it free from its holster, she leveled the gun and took aim. JC was struggling to free himself from beneath an unconscious Liz, his right hand still clutching the gun. On his knees he turned toward Scully, whipping his right hand around to take aim. "FBI, drop your weapon!" Scully cried as she took notice of JC's freedom of movement. She pulled the trigger. JC went down just as the front door burst open to reveal Engle and Crane. Ch. 21 Santa Barbara General Santa Barbara, CA January 8, 2003 11:23 AM PST Mulder woke to the sound of soft voices. His whole body ached and his mouth felt dry. When he opened his eyes, he was met with an explosion of light that left him dizzy. Scully's head swiveled to focus on her partner when she heard the quiet groan. His eyes were still closed but she could tell that he was regaining consciousness. Without a word she strode toward the bedside and reached for his hand. "Mulder?" She drew soothing circles with her thumb. "Scully?" His eyes blinked slowly open. Across the room, Skinner watched his two agents' impromptu reunion. He reached for his crutches, knowing that neither would notice his retreat from the room. "I'm here." She continued to lightly stroke his hand. "Elizabeth? Mark?" Mulder's voice croaked out a query. "Elizabeth's got a mild concussion. After JC shot you, Elizabeth tackled him and ended up knocking herself out on the end table. She did give me enough time to grab your weapon and take JC down, though." Scully explained as she handed Mulder a cup of ice chips. Mulder took a few moments to ease his parched throat before continuing with the conversation. "Is he in custody?" "Yes. There are two officers guarding him a few floors down. I shot him in the shoulder just as Engle and Crane came through the front door." "What aren't you telling me, Scully?" The line that crinkled her brow told him that she was holding something back, concerned about his reaction. "You should get some more rest, Mulder. You're still weak from surgery. You won't be able to have any solid food for a few weeks. You're lucky they were able to repair the damage, though; it could have been a lot worse." Her eyes relayed the concern and worry she had been shouldering since the shooting. "I'm fine, Scully, " Mulder soothed. "Tell me what happened to Mark." Scully sighed, turning her head to peer out the hospital window. "Mark didn't make it, Mulder. He lost too much blood...there was nothing we could do." She turned back to see her partner's jaw clenched tightly, his eyes dull and dazed. "I see." "It's not your fault, Mulder." "I am feeling a little tired, Scully. I think I'll rest for awhile." Pulling his hand out of her grasp, Mulder turned to lie on his side, forgetting his injured abdomen. He groaned in pain, quickly shifting onto his back and squeezing his eyes shut. "Mulder?" Scully's voice was filled with concern. "Dammit! Why do you have to be so damned stubborn?" She pushed the nurse's call button as she admonished him. A young looking nurse entered the room and looked inquiringly at Scully. "Agent Mulder has regained consciousness and is in some pain. Do you think you can administer a dose of his pain meds?" Scully asked. "Yes, ma'am. I'll inform the doctor that the patient is conscious." The nurse injected a small dose into Mulder's IV as she spoke, then left the room. Scully could see the lines on Mulder's face relax as the medication kicked in. She gave a long suffering sigh before speaking, "Try to get some rest Mulder. The doctor will be in to check on you soon. If all goes well, we should be able to get you out of here within a week." The only response she received was a short grunt of acceptance, but Mulder did not turn to meet her eyes. "I'll be back in about an hour. I'm just going to run back to the motel and grab a change of clothes." She smoothed back the errant lock of hair on his forehead before standing to leave. It was then that Mulder noticed that she was still wearing the same suit she'd had on when they entered JC's home. There were a few scattered drops of blood on her slacks, probably his own. "Thanks, Scully." Mulder's quiet words reached Scully before she could open the door. She turned to give him one of her rare but sincere smiles before walking out, the door clicking softly behind her. *** Down the hall, Scully opened the door to her boss's room. Skinner was lying back on his bed, flipping channels on the television. He clicked the TV off when she entered, giving her his full attention. "How is he, Agent?" he questioned. "As well as can be expected, sir. Physically, he'll be fine. He'll need to be off active duty for at least 3 months, and he'll have to go through some physical therapy, but there shouldn't be any problems." Scully outlined for him. "And mentally?" Skinner knew that Mulder would be blaming himself for the loss of the child. He also knew how close to home this would hit for his recalcitrant agent. "I'm not sure, sir. You know how Mulder feels about any case involving children. He'll need some time to process everything that's happened, but you know that whether we captured Addison or not, Mulder would view this as one of his failures." Scully shook her head in silent rebuke. "I know, Agent. But hopefully, given time and our continued support, he'll eventually understand that there's nothing he did wrong, " Skinner tried to reassure her. "I hope so. Thank you, sir." Skinner spent a moment to study the other half of the X-files team. Scully looked tired, her eyes baggy and dark. Her skin was pale, and her clothes were wrinkled. She hadn't left Mulder's side for more than a few minutes since he'd come out of surgery. "Okay, Agent. I think it's time you got yourself something to eat and then sacked out." "I'm on my way back to the motel now, sir. I told Mulder I'd be back within the hour. I just want to get a fresh set of clothing." She turned to leave the room. "Agent Scully." Skinner stopped her before she could escape. "You will return to the motel, stopping on the way to grab yourself something to eat. You will then lie down and sleep for at least 4 hours before returning to the hospital. That is an order." "Sir, I've told Agent Mulder that I would be back - " "I don't care what you told Agent Mulder. You need some rest. Look at yourself. You still have blood on your clothes!" Skinner pointed to the splattering on her clothing. "I will speak with Agent Mulder to let him know that you will be back here by dinner time. Okay, Agent?" "Yes, sir." Scully turned on her heel and briskly strode out the door. Skinner sincerely hoped she would follow his advice and get some rest. Mulder wasn't the only stubborn agent he had under his supervision. Ch. 22 Santa Barbara General Santa Barbara, CA January 8, 2003 3:04 PM PST Mulder was dozing lightly when Skinner entered the room. He took a seat by the bedside and studied his sleeping agent. He was actually surprised that Scully agreed to leave so soon after the surgery. The fact that Mulder had awakened earlier in the day was a good sign. It had been extremely close for all parties involved. Part of him was glad that he'd been unconscious when they removed him from the scene. He knew that if he'd been awake, there was no way he would have left his agents. As it was, the moment he woke, he'd been filled with anxiety over the seriousness of Mulder's injuries. Scully had been there to debrief him, and to let him know that Mulder was in surgery, that his injuries were life threatening and that the following 24 hours would be critical. Mulder's eyes fluttered open when the presence of another person finally seeped into his subconscious. "Scully?" "She's gone back to the motel to get some rest, " Skinner answered quietly. "Oh." Mulder dry washed the stubble on his chin. "Thank you, sir." Sitting up slightly, Mulder noticed the crutches leaning against the edge of the bed. He glanced up to his boss and gave him a concerned once over. "And how are you feeling, sir?" "Fine, Mulder." He raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not the one who was shot in the stomach." "Well, other than the fact that I'll be eating jello and chicken broth for the next 2 months, I think I'm fine." Mulder made a face at his choice of menu. There was quiet for a moment before Skinner broke the silence. "That wasn't exactly an SOP move you made back there, Agent." Skinner somehow made this fact sound like a query. "No, sir." Mulder sighed and turned away. "It didn't save Mark either." "No, it didn't." Skinner stated matter-of-factly. Mulder turned back to meet his discerning stare. "But it did save your partner." They locked gazes for a minute before Mulder's eyes fell to his clasped hands. *** Motel 6, Room 143 Santa Barbara, CA January 8, 2003 3:41 PM PST Scully stepped under the warm spray of the shower. She'd taken Skinner's advice and grabbed a salad on the way to the motel. After lunch, she was able to get a few hours sleep before waking up to get ready for her return trip to the hospital. As she reached for the shampoo, she noticed her hands shaking slightly. Her body was finally allowing the shock to register. Since the shooting, Scully had been running on autopilot. Now that Mulder was conscious and she knew that most of the danger had passed, the events of the day were finally catching up to her. Tears slid down her cheek as she thought of Mark. Another child they weren't able to save. She knew how Mulder would take this. When Addison had pulled the trigger she hadn't expected Mulder's move. She had instinctively wrapped her body around Mark to try to protect him. Without a weapon there was nothing more she could do. Mulder had thrown himself in the line of fire. To protect Mark as well as herself, she knew. But procedure dictated that he should have drawn his weapon, letting Addison take his shot and then taking him down. But when was Mulder ever known to follow procedure? A fond smile graced her lips as she thought of her errant partner. She rinsed the lather out of her hair, glad to finally be able to wash the grime of the day away. She was actually surprised that she hadn't gotten more blood on her. But everything had happened so fast. Once Mulder had been shot, her thoughts had to center around getting all of them out. Once she'd seen the weapon, she dove for it and took the first shot she had. By that time, Engle had arrived along with the paramedics. And they had taken over the scene. After Scully had informed them of Mark's condition she had turned, only to find that Mulder had already been settled onto a gurney and was being led out to the first ambulance. Mulder's injuries were life threatening. Sadly, Scully thought, this wasn't a completely uncommon occurrence. But the difference this time was that she had been a main cause of them. He had taken the bullet meant for her. In the back of her mind, she had always known that Mulder wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice himself for her, as she would for him. After all, he had been willing to risk his sister's life in exchange for hers, why not his own? Now she just had the physical proof. *** Santa Barbara General Santa Barbara, CA January 8, 2003 5:15 PM PST Mulder had been watching Skinner carefully since he'd awakened to find the A.D. watching over him. His movements were stiff, and the only time that their eyes had met was during their conversation about Mulder's injury and its consequences. Skinner seemed restless, constantly shifting in the chair. "Sir?" Skinner glanced up but then quickly away. "Is your knee bothering you? You don't have to keep me company if you'd like to go back to your room and lie down, " Mulder tried to reassure his boss. "No, Agent. I'm fine." Skinner's answer was short. "Okay. You just seem a bit restless. I thought you might be feeling uncomfortable in that chair." Mulder tried again. Skinner sighed hard, and then finally looked up to meet Mulder's gaze. "It's not that, Mulder." He looked away again. "I suppose I'm just feeling my age." Mulder's brow rose in question. "I've just been reviewing my involvement, or lack thereof, in the conclusion of this case. I imagine that in my younger days I wouldn't have been taken down so easily." Skinner rubbed at his injured knee absently. "You can't assume that, sir. And whether that is true or not, those circumstances were beyond your control, " Mulder reasoned. "The outcome of the case may not have been affected one way or the other by your shooting." "I suppose a person can't help playing the 'what if?' game in a situation like this, " Skinner supplied. "No, sir. But that game is useless. There are never any winners, " Mulder answered. Skinner met Mulder's eyes once more. Their gazes held for a moment before Skinner spoke again. "You're right, Mulder. I guess we should both remember that." Ch. 23 Santa Barbara General Santa Barbara, CA January 13, 2003 2:01 PM PST Mulder was reading over Scully's notes on the case. Skinner had flown back to DC last night and was expecting their full report by the end of the week. Although Scully was going to be writing the official report, Mulder was adding any comments or significant facts to Scully's notes for the final write-up. He looked up as the door to his room swung open. Expecting to see Scully, he was surprised when Engle's face appeared around the opening. They hadn't spoken since Mulder's surgery, and he had actually thought that Engle might have already returned to DC. "Engle." Mulder greeted the other agent. "Agent Mulder. How are you feeling?" "Still feeling like a gutted fish. Especially since I haven't had anything more than broth and the occasional spoonful of jello in the past 5 days, " Mulder admitted. Engle was fidgeting, shifting from foot to foot and avoiding eye contact with Mulder. "What is it, Agent Engle?" Jon took a breath and blew it out before speaking. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry, sir." "Sorry for what, Engle?" "I feel sort of responsible for having set Addison off with our conversation. I should have let you handle the negotiations instead of having phoned in. I shouldn't have assumed that you needed help with the situation." Jon looked away. Jon's head shot up when he heard Mulder's low chuckle. "Engle, you don't know how relieved I was when that phone rang." At Engle's incredulous look, Mulder continued. "Your call helped defuse the situation. Addison was so wired up that he could have shot any one of us right then. But that call focused his attention on you instead." Jon relaxed slightly. "There might not have been anything that either you or I could have said to resolve this without any injuries. Addison was too unstable. Your call just stalled the inevitable for a few minutes, that's all. And who knows? Those few minutes might have meant one of our lives." "Thank you, sir." Jon was relieved that Agent Mulder didn't blame him for Addison's blow up. "Would you like to sit down now, Engle?" "No. No, thank you, sir. I uhm." Engle still clearly had something on his mind. "Yes, Engle?" Mulder prompted him. "I also wanted to say I'm sorry about.well.about the other night." "Other night?" "The night you went jogging?" Jon looked away, not wanting to meet Mulder's eye. "What are you sorry for, Engle?" Mulder kept his voice dangerously neutral. "Well, I didn't mean to accuse, that is, assume that something had happened." Jon tried to explain. "You shouldn't believe every rumor you hear, Jon." "Of course. It was just that you and Agent Scully seemed so close and - " "We are close. I told you we've been through a lot together, but it's no more than that, " Mulder interrupted. Jon didn't answer right away. It seemed obvious to him that Agent Mulder's earlier explanation of their relationship was a little lacking. He was sure that he'd been on the receiving end of several decidedly unfriendly glares from the senior agent. "So.you wouldn't mind if I asked her to dinner when we're all back in DC?" Engle prompted. The room was silent, as Engle received another not quite friendly glare. But before Mulder could answer, although to Engle, the answer was obvious, the door swung open once again. Scully walked in with a salad and a sack full of magazines. She stopped when she saw Agent Engle in the room. "Hello, Jon." Scully smiled at him and then continued toward Mulder's side. Mulder watched the interaction as Scully handed him the sack of magazines and then seated herself on the chair beside him to open her salad. "Scully, now I know it's bad when I get jealous of a salad!" The corners of Scully's lips turned up in a conciliatory smile before she turned back to Engle. "What brings you here, Jon?" She poured the light dressing onto her salad before tossing it. "I thought your flight left this afternoon." "It does, Dana. I just wanted to see how Agent Mulder was doing before I returned to DC." "Well you can see that I'm fine, JON." Mulder stressed the use of Engle's Christian name. "O-okay, sir. Well, I better get going. Traffic is going to be hell getting back to LAX." Engle made his way across the room. Jon turned before completely exiting. "I just wanted to say that it was great working with both of you. I've learned a lot and it was incredible to see you both in action. Thanks." Mulder immediately felt guilty for his behavior. "You did a good job, Engle. You did good work and we appreciate it." "Thank you, sir." Engle's face was tinged slightly pink. "Well, see you back in DC." He hadn't meant it as anything more than a parting comment, but caught sight of Agent Mulder's scowl as he walked out. Walking down the corridor he shrugged his shoulders. It wasn't as if he was planning on acting on his 'threat' anyway. Mulder turned to see Scully giving him a questioning stare. "What was that all about, Mulder?" "I think someone's got a crush, DANA." Mulder teased. "That's ridiculous FOX. Jon has been nothing but professional." She took a few bites of salad. "While you've been in here, Jon and I have been wrapping up the paperwork needed for the Sheriff's office. I told him he could call me Dana." She looked up at the rustle of paper as Mulder moved the case notes to the bedside table. "So you wouldn't be interested if he, say, asked you to dinner when we got back to DC?" Mulder asked casually. Scully frowned. "No, Mulder. He's a kid, for goodness sake!" "You sure it's not the buck teeth? They were pretty bad, " Mulder answered nonchalantly, masking his relief. Scully gave him a disbelieving look before shaking her head. "Just finish the case notes so I can get out of here, Mulder. I need to go pack our bags so that we can fly out tomorrow once you've checked out." Mulder just gave her a crooked grin before picking the paperwork back up. Ch. 24 Mulder's Apartment Arlington, VA January 14, 2003 9:51 PM EST "Mulder, there are dead things in here!" Scully's voice carried over into the living room as she scrounged in the refrigerator for something to drink. "Sorry, Scully. I'm sure the ice is okay. Why don't you pour some water from the tap?" Mulder responded. "Aha!" Scully's cry was triumphant as she pulled out a can of Brisk Ice Tea from the back of the fridge. "I don't trust your tap water, Mulder. And you shouldn't either!" she scolded as she returned to the living room. Mulder was stretched out on his couch, his eyes closed. Scully sat on the floor indian style to talk to him. "How are you feeling, Mulder?" "'M fine, Scully. The flight kind of wore me out a bit, having to sit in that position for so long, " Mulder admitted. "You should get some rest, Mulder." She tapped his foot lightly. "In bed and not on this monstrosity." Scully indicated the couch. Mulder shook his head. "I'll be fine, Scully." "No excuses, Mulder. I'm going to turn your bed down right now, and you are going to get in it before I leave." She stood and headed for his room. She returned and shook him slightly from his sleepy state. Helping him stand, she wrapped her arms snugly around his waist to help him walk the rest of the way to his bed. "This wasn't exactly how I pictured luring you into my bedroom with me, Scully." Mulder teased. Scully smiled back at him, but remained silent. She tucked him in and brushed a stray lock of hair off his forehead. Her hand caressed his cheek briefly before she removed it. He'd noticed that she'd been touching him a lot more often since the shooting. He wasn't about to complain, though. It was probably just a knee jerk reaction to almost losing him again. As a psychologist, he knew that a lot of family members seek physical reassurances after this kind of near death experience. A sad expression stole across his face as he remembered that Mark's family wouldn't be allowed those kinds of reassurances. Scully caught the look and her hand came out to rest atop his. "What are you thinking about, Mulder?" "Nothing, Scully. You should go. It's getting late and you're probably tired from the trip, " Mulder deflected. "No, Mulder." Scully was firm. "We have to talk about this. I know you're feeling guilty over Mark's death." "Of course I'm feeling guilty, Scully! It was my fault. If I had just gotten the profile together one day sooner, or even a couple of hours, this wouldn't have happened. Or if I had been able to predict which house Addison would have holed up in, maybe the shoot out that injured Mark could have been avoided, " Mulder lamented. "Could have, should have, would have, Mulder. You can't know that anything would have changed the outcome of the case. You're not to blame." Scully tried to reassure him. "Scully, that boy died because I couldn't save him." Mulder's words were quietly whispered. "You weren't the only one on the case, Mulder." Her hand moved from his to cup his cheek. "And you're not the only one who's lost a child. Don't think you're the only one affected by this." Scully's words were like a slap in the face. "Oh god! I'm sorry, Scully." Mulder knew that Emily's death had torn something vital from Scully. How could he forget that her pain would be just as strong, if not more so, than his own? "Mulder, I didn't remind you of that to make you feel worse. I just wanted you to know that you're not the only one feeling guilty. We all feel that way. If we didn't care, we wouldn't be doing the jobs that we do." Mulder's hand reached up to grasp her own. He brought it forward and laid a chaste kiss on her palm. "Thank you, Scully." "You're welcome, Mulder." She smiled gently down at him. "Now get some rest, I'm sure we've got a stack of x-files sitting in the basement just waiting for one of your insane theories." Mulder relinquished her hand as she stood to leave. He was already feeling drowsy, his painkillers and the effects of a long flight kicking in. "G'night, Scully." "Goodnight, Mulder." She leaned down and gave him a quick peck on the forehead, her lips just brushing his skin. She stood above him for a few moments, until his breathing evened out into a steady rhythm. Her hand stole out once more to caress his cheek. "You did save someone that day, Mulder, " she whispered softly. "Thank you." She smiled softly as she gently repositioned an errant lock of his hair, before quietly stepping out of the room. THE END.