From: "Stephanie A. Kaiser" Date: Sun, 31 Jan 1999 04:07:46 -0600 Subject: Haunted Moon by Stephanie Kaiser Haunted Moon by Stephanie Kaiser Classification: RxA Rating: NC-17 Spoilers: Yes, through season 5 and a small spoiler or two for the movie. Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance Summary: Mulder and Scully find themselves lost and in trouble one night under a haunted moon. But when it's all over and done, can they find love? Disclaimer: As much as I wish I had a hand in creating The X-Files all rights belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Entertainment. I do however believe that Mulder and Scully belong to David and Gillian, without them there would be words but no soul. Suing me would do no good, I would just have more time to write in jail. Additional disclaimer - I'm a shipper with a psychology degree, not a doctor practicing medicine. Any medical information in this story that is incorrect -- I apologize for in advance. Thanks Jennifer. Author's notes: It is embarrassing to think about how long it's taken me to get this story written. Thank you to Melissa who spent hours on the phone with me setting up the plot, well I guess part of the time was spent discussing David's attributes . Thank you too to Karen, I couldn't have written this (or finished it for that matter) without your input and your support. And thank you to Nancy and Jennifer, editors extrordinaire! I rely on your comments, ideas and your loyalty. I am blessed with the editing circle that I have, and I know it! You may have noticed the lower case *x* in the classification of this story. This is my first 'x-file' and it isn't technically a Halloween story, but it gets a little creepy. It's a good story to be posting this week, when the black cats are on the prowl, the witches are heating their cauldrons and the ghosts are having their sheets dry-cleaned in preparation for all Hallow's Eve. I hope you enjoy the story. Any comments can be sent to: Haunted Moon She probably would have been more amused by this whole situation but her ass was really starting to hurt. They had spent two and a half hours on an airplane and the past three hours driving around, in her opinion, aimlessly on the back roads somewhere in Wisconsin. Sometimes Scully really wondered why she was always so willing to pack a bag and chase all over the country with her partner. Her partner. She turned her head and studied Mulder's profile. A familiar sense of warmth spread through her, beginning in her heart and surging throughout her body. Then she remembered why. He felt her eyes on him. He was always amazed at how physically aware they were of each other. All she had to do was enter a room and he instantly knew she was there. Professionally, it had saved their lives on many different occasions. Personally, he sometimes wished that *every* part of his body wasn't so responsive to her. Evidence of her effect on him was beginning to manifest, and he was quickly becoming physically aroused. He took a deep breath and readjusted his position in the seat, trying not to further draw her attention. Mulder shifted in his seat and she turned to face the window, trying to hide the smile forming on her lips. His ass hurt too. Good. He was lost. He hadn't admitted it yet, but he was lost. It wasn't that Mulder never did anything wrong -- he did. It was just that usually when Mulder screwed up, her fierce sense of loyalty prevented her from rubbing it in. Tonight, they were alone, he was lost, and she was going to enjoy it. She just wished her own stubborn streak would allow her to get more comfortable. He wasn't oblivious to her. He knew she was growing impatient. He had pushed his luck as far as he thought he was able too. It was time to admit defeat. Scully turned her attention back to Mulder as he slowed the car and pulled to the side of the road. He put the car in park, his eyes purposely staying forward. "Go ahead Scully." "Go ahead what?" She asked innocently. "Go ahead and maybe point out that you have no idea where we are going and haven't for the last hour." "And." He might as well let her get it completely out of her system. "And...If you had listened to me forty minutes ago we probably wouldn't be lost." She stated, crossing her arms smugly and leaning back into her seat "Anything else?" "Not right now," she began, seriously considering his question, "but I reserve the right to comment on the subject later." "I'm disappointed in you Scully. You forgot to mention that not only did I get us lost, but I've been driving in circles." "Circles?" Scully looked out the car window at the surrounding area. They were on a dirt road surrounded by fences, trees, and fields. It had all begun to look the same to her. "How can you tell?" "I recognize that cow," he said dryly, pointing out her passenger window at the cow standing behind the fence next to the road. "Mulder," she sighed, shaking her head. She reached forward to open the glove box. Pulling out the map, she unfolded it and spread it out across the dash board in front of them. "What was the last main road you remember seeing?" "County W, but that was over an hour ago." Scully studied him for a moment becoming slightly suspicious as Mulder leaned forward to study the map. She pulled the paper away from his gaze. "Well this isn't going to help." She said answering the questioning look on his face. "If we've been lost for over an hour, a map isn't going to do us any good. It's getting dark, we need to drive toward lights." "Lights? You been hanging around me too long Scully?" He said with a touch of humor. "Not lights in the sky, Mulder. Town or city lights, on the ground. My roommate in med. school grew up in the mid-west, she had no sense of direction. When she would get lost, she would drive toward lights, figure out what town she was in and go on from there." Mulder hesitated for a moment before putting the car in gear and driving forward. "Lights it is. This roommate of yours Scully...don't tell me she became a surgeon." "She's a brilliant neurosurgeon, just don't ask her which way is north." "That's reassuring." "So, if we've been driving in circles the logical thing to do would be to turn off on a road we haven't been on before." "Pick a road, any road." An unfamiliar uneasiness briefly spread through her and again she closely scrutinized her partner. "I'm just trying to help you out Scully. Imagine how much you'll be able to gloat if you're the one that figures out where we are." "Are you feeling all right, Mulder?" "Just tired of driving in circles. What road should I turn onto?" She watched him for a moment and then turned her attention to the problem at hand. There was a road coming up on the left that appeared to be well marked, at this point that was a good sign. She pointed ahead. "Try that one, it looks like it climbs that hill. We'll be able to get a better idea of where we need to head." Mulder slowed the car and turned onto the road Scully had indicated. Their silence became comfortable again and she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. "Tired?" His voice was soft, soothing. She nodded. "Maybe you should..." Mulder's voice was cut short by two violent hissing explosions. Scully was thrown forward in her seat, the seatbelt snapping her back forcefully. She could barely hear herself think above the noise of splaying gravel as Mulder fought to control the spin of the car and bring it to a stop. When the car was no longer in motion, Scully let out a long deep breath as she pulled the taut seatbelt away from her body. Mulder turned to her in concern, seeing her massage her shoulder where the seatbelt had restrained her. "Are you all right, Scully?" She turned her head and met the worry in his eyes. She nodded. Mulder tilted his head and glanced at her shoulder and then back to her eyes. She nodded her head again slowly. Their eyes held onto one another until she looked away and fumbled to remove her seatbelt. "What the hell happened, Mulder?" "I don't know." Mulder was out of the car first and saw that the front driver's side tire was blown. A jagged tear separated the rubber. "Flat tire." He reported to Scully as she stepped out of the car. "Two flat tires." She corrected viewing the front tire on her side of the vehicle. "What?" Mulder walked to her side of the car and examined the tire that appeared to be identical to the one on the left side. He crouched down and explored the damaged surface of the tire with his hands. Before long he stood to face her, triumphantly holding a small but effective metal spike. Scully took the spike from him and watched as he moved back to the driver's side of the car. He began to examine that tire and within minutes he produced another metal spike. "Someone around here is certainly friendly." Mulder handed her the other spike, he began to walk back to where the car's skid marks started. Scully followed him and watched him push the gravel around with his foot. "Do you think that someone did this on purpose?" "I don't know that much about farm equipment but I somehow doubt that metal spikes would fall freely from a tractor." He bent down and ran his fingers over the dirt and pulled up two more spikes that had been hidden among the gravel. Mulder handed the spikes to Scully and pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket. He pushed a few buttons and studied it for a moment before shoving it back into his pocket. "Damn. No signal." Mulder walked back to the car and opened the rear door and grabbed their coats and a flashlight. Slamming the car door he tossed her the jacket. "I hope you're in the mood for a romantic moonlit stroll." He pulled his jacket on and stopped to help her on with her coat. "Do you have your gun?" She nodded silently and took her place next to him as he began to walk down the road in the direction that they had been heading. It was a beautiful night, a bit chilly though. Scully kept her hands snugly in the pockets of her coat, trying to protect them from the briskness of the air. A full moon hung low in the sky and seemed to illuminate all that it touched. Night had completely fallen, yet Mulder hadn't needed to turn on the flashlight. Moonlight guided their journey. A gentle wind directed nature's symphony, supplying a constant rustling of dried leaves, the sound of rippling water from a nearby pond and the occasional howling of the moving air itself. Something wasn't right. It had begun to bother her in the car, and she just hadn't been able to put her finger on the source of her uneasiness. She thought back to what had prompted her suspicion and began to put the pieces of the puzzle together. "Mulder?" She looked over at the man walking next to her, making sure she had eye contact before she continued. "You don't get lost. We've been partners for five years and you've never gotten us lost." "There's a first time for everything. Sorry *my* ability to detect which way is north failed us in the middle of nowhere." She tried to read the expression in his eyes and on his face but found herself unable to. Damn, sometimes she wished this man had come with instructions. She stopped walking and watched as Mulder took two steps forward and then turned to face her. "I don't think so." She hesitated until she saw a faint trace of Mulderguilt pass over his face. "I'm not saying we're not lost. It was obvious by the way you were looking at the map that you don't know where we are. Every time we go out in the field, you've always been very meticulous about where we're going and how we're going to get there. The first time I even attempted to make the travel arrangements, you changed them." "Are you saying I have control issues, Scully?" His voice betrayed the humor he was finding in her dissection of his character. "I'm saying, you usually don't leave a lot to chance. So, that means--you turned off the main road and set about getting us lost on purpose." He walked toward her and put his hand on the small of her back, gently propelling her forward to fall into step next to him again. "Would I do something like that?" He asked feigning innocence. "In a minute, if it somehow served your purpose." "Scully, you wound me." "Not in the last few hours, but the night's still young. Mulder, what are we doing here? What about this latest case requires that we get lost in Wisconsin?" "Nothing specifically." He answered almost sheepishly. "I was following up on a hunch." "A hunch? You told me we were investigating a missing persons case." "I did some digging and contacted the sheriff who requested the help of the bureau. It turns out that multiple people traveling through this area have been reported missing in the last two months." "Multiple?" "Eight couples." "Sixteen people? In two months? Why wasn't the bureau notified before this?" "No one's proven that this is the exact area where they've disappeared. It's only been verified that they would have passed through here." "Why did we have to get lost?" "The last couple that disappeared had a cell phone that worked. They called the local authorities asking for help because they were unfamiliar with the area and needed directions. That was the last time anyone heard from them. Did you notice, Scully? We really are in the middle of nowhere. There are no houses, we hadn't passed another car since we turned off the main road and no one has driven by since we started walking. None of these roads are marked. The only road that had a sign was the one we turned onto." "A road with metal spikes hidden on it." "Exactly." "Why didn't you tell me this earlier? Why didn't you just tell me your theory?" "You think *I* have control issues?" This time Mulder was the one to stop walking. He stood in front of her, forcing her to stop also. "Chance isn't exactly your middle name either. It's why we work so well together." He quickly turned and began walking again before she could reply. Before long he heard her footsteps behind him. He slowed his pace, letting her catch up. "That's your theory on why we work so well together?" He looked over at her and smiled devilishly. "I thought it would sound sexist if I said it was because you looked a lot better in a skirt than my last partner." Scully turned her face and pointedly stared into his eyes, dropping her chin and conveying directly with her eyes exactly what she thought of his attempt at humor. He grinned at her glare and chuckled softly under his breath. Silently he picked up his pace. Silently she stayed by his side. Over the last five years they had developed their own specialized vocabulary. A raised eyebrow had become their noun, a simple touch replaced a verb and there wasn't an adjective in the world that could compete with a glance into one another's eyes. This language wasn't always effective, but it was theirs. Scully hugged her arms around her waist and scanned the area, it still looked the same as it had when they had started walking. Even after discovering that Mulder's failed sense of direction was purposeful, the earlier sense of uneasiness still plagued her. "Something still doesn't feel right." "It's that time of the month." Scully looked at him in disbelief, her steps slowing and her hands moving to rest on her hips. Mulder stopped and turned to face her, slightly confused for a moment at her obvious irritation, before a slow, full grin spread across his face. "No. I was referring to the moon, Scully." He pointed directly ahead of them into the sky. "It's a full moon. People have been known to experience strange or abnormal feelings and behavior when the moon is full." "A haunted moon." She stated reflectively as she began walking along the road again. "What?" Mulder asked falling into step with her. "When we were little my brother used to try and scare Melissa and I on nights there was a full moon. He used to tell us that when the moon was full all the evil of the world was unleashed to haunt the earth. He called it a haunted moon." "You believed him?" "I was six." She justified. "It was about six months before I would go outside on a night when there was a haunted moon." "Are you trying to tell me that if your brother hadn't scared you as a child you would be more open to my ideas?" "Mulder, I've always been very open to your ideas." Mulder stopped walking and raised his eyebrow questioningly at her. "Must be an example of that abnormal behavior you were telling me about earlier." She smiled. "If you begin to experience any other impulses to behave in an abnormal fashion, let me know." "You'll be the first," she promised. They continued to walk. The wind was beginning to grow much stronger and clouds began to swirl menacingly in the sky. Mulder turned on the flashlight to light the road they walked. Occasional bursts of lightning assaulted the sky. "Scully, I think we're about to get very wet." "There has to be a house or a barn around here somewhere." They reached the top of the hill they were climbing when another flash of lightning illuminated the area. "Did you see that?" She asked walking rapidly forward. "See what?" "I think there's a house, down there on the left." The clouds that had been hiding the moon separated and the valley below was temporarily visible. Mulder and Scully scanned the area, both coming to realize that the only shelter available was a large, dark, rundown farm house looming at the bottom of the hill. The moon disappeared again behind the clouds. The wind began to howl and Mulder was forced to yell above the sound to be heard. "What do you think?" "I don't think we have another choice. We'll never make it back to the car before the storm hits." Mulder reached out, taking Scully's hand. They began to run down the hill. Large droplets of rain fell from the sky and deafening booms of thunder threatened from above. Scully ran blindly, trusting Mulder's lead as she did her best to shield her face from the shards of rain that beat against her skin. She felt herself being led from the road and she looked up to see where they were. The sight in front of her stopped her cold in her tracks. The house that they had gotten a glimpse of from the top of the hill now towered above her. The house emitted an impression of foreboding ruin. Melissa had always told her that certain places or objects could give off an essence. She hadn't believed her, until now. The structure stood two stories high and was encompassed in darkness. Its windows were boarded, as if to keep whatever was contained within from escape. Twisted, tangled vines clung to the exterior, the wind seeming to bring them to life as they reached out from the walls. Dead trees stood guard, launching their own attack against the outer surface of the wooden frame. A broken sidewalk crawled to the sagging porch that sat in wait for them. Mulder felt the tug on his arm and turned to see why she had stopped. Noticing that the color had drained from her face, he took a step closer, trying to guard her from the pelting storm. "We're almost there. What's wrong?" She shook her head, indicating nothing. Taking the lead, she followed the shattered trail of cement toward the abandoned house. The overhang of the porch protected them from the rain and the two agents took a moment to shake the excess of water off their clothes. Mulder reached for the doorknob and Scully quickly put her hand over his to stop him. He turned to face her and was surprised at the intensity of emotion he found in her eyes. "I think we're fine right here. I don't think we need to go in." "What's going on, Scully? This storm looks like it's here to stay for awhile. I know this place isn't The Ritz but it's got to be dryer and warmer inside than it is out here." He took her hands in his and began to rub them, trying to restore some warmth. "You're freezing. We need to go inside." He kept her hands in his and looked directly into her eyes. "Mulder..." she hesitated and dropped her eyes, so that she was staring at their feet. "This place gives me the creeps." "Please explain to me the scientific nature of the creeps." Scully quickly raised her gaze, ready to tell Mulder exactly what path he could take to Hell; when she saw the look of pure joy and satisfaction on his face, the look of warmth in his eyes and the small grin shaping his lips. She shook her head in resignation. "You've been waiting awhile to use that one, haven't you?" "Yes I have." He answered proudly. "Scully, it's just a big dark house, nothing else." His voice dropped and gently he reminded her with his eyes that he would be right there by her side. She knew he was trying to appease her fear, and although his intentions were honorable she felt as though she were three and he was trying to convince her there wasn't a monster under her bed. He squeezed her hands, waiting for a sign from her whether or not to open the door. "Fine. We'll go in." She conceded. Mulder had spent the last five years protecting her from the monsters. She knew he wasn't about to let any of them get to her now. --- --- The door slowly crawled open, the protesting scream from the rusted hinges announcing to whatever waited within that there were visitors. Mulder cautiously stepped inside using the flashlight to take a thorough inventory of the darkened interior of the house. His grip on Scully's hand tightened in a reassuring squeeze. Scully stepped inside the house. It was so dark, without the flashlight she was certain that she wouldn't even have been able to see her hand in front of her face. Her eyes followed the beam of light. They were in a hallway. Battered steps leading to an upstairs were on the left. The hallway was long and traveled the length of the house, several closed doors branching off from it. She followed Mulder into the room on her right. As far as she could tell it had once been a large family room. Dust and cobwebs covered every visible surface. Sheets draped the few pieces of furniture that stood in the middle of the room. An old fireplace took up most of the far wall. Lightning flooded in through the boarded up windows and caused a deep shiver to trace its way up her spine. "What do you think? A real fixer-upper." Mulder let go of Scully's hand and felt along the wall inside the door they had just come through. She heard the click of a light switch being thrown, yet the room remained bathed in darkness. Mulder swept the flashlight around the room again and noticed a few candles sitting on the mantle of the fireplace. "Scully? Remember this afternoon when we stopped at the diner? You wrote a phone number on a book of matches, because you couldn't find a piece of paper? Do you still have the match book?" Scully patted the outside of her jacket pockets and then nodded. She pulled the matches from the pocket. Mulder took them from her and lit three of the six candles that sat on the mantle. The flames lit the room but they also cast ominously moving shadows onto the empty walls. "I feel like I walked into an episode of Scooby Doo," he grinned at her as he turned off the flashlight and pulled the sheet off of the couch in front of him. A cloud of dust sprayed the air and Scully fought the urge to sneeze. "All we're missing is the portrait above the fireplace with the eyes that follow you everywhere you go." Mulder plopped on the couch, sending up another barrage of dust. Turning, he looked up at her in surprise. "Yes, Mulder, I watched Scooby Doo." "Did you ever wonder about that show, Scully? Four unemployed college aged kids traveling around the country in a recreational vehicle." "What's your point Mulder?" "Makes me wonder what exactly was in all those Scooby snacks." Scully wandered around the room getting a closer look at where they would be spending the next hour or two until the storm passed. Having an analytical conversation about an animated program she watched as a child would have probably seemed out of the ordinary if she had been with anyone but Mulder. At least they had moved away from the topic of Betty Rubble's bust line. The way his mind worked always mystified her. He was a brilliant profiler, had amazing attention for detail, and was probably one of the most intelligent men she had ever known. Yet here they were discussing a talking dog who chased after fake ghosts. Fake ghosts? "I'm surprised you liked Scooby Doo, Mulder. Nothing they ever chased after was real. Not the lake monster, the Indian spirit, or any of the ghosts. It was always people dressed in costumes or video projection equipment." "What can I say..." he shrugged. "I had a thing for Daphne." "Daphne? She wasn't exactly the most intellectually stimulating of the group." "I must have had a soft spot for red heads way back then too," he stated smoothly, just a hint of promising suggestion in his tone. "Stop pacing, come sit down." Scully scanned the eerie room again before sitting down next to Mulder. Mulder watched as she attempted to settle her nerves. Her hands twisted around the fabric of the coat he had thrown across the back of the couch cinching it with a death grip. She checked over her shoulder, first in one direction and then turning her head she checked the other side. "Scully?" Her attention remained preoccupied with surveying the darkness. "Scully," he repeated more loudly, causing her to jump a little and slide closer to him. "What!" Normally he would have grinned at making her jump, but Scully wasn't acting normal. "What's wrong?" He asked, softening his voice and wrapping his arm around her shoulders attempting to make her feel protected. "I don't like not knowing where we are and not having access to a phone or a vehicle. Sixteen people have been reported missing. We should have been more prepared." His gaze held hers, but she saw his eyes cloud over. *Shit*, she thought reproachfully, mentally cringing. "Mulder..." "You're right, Scully. We should have been more prepared. I was anxious to get out in the field and I did it again." "You did what again?" "I woke you up at the crack of dawn and dragged you across the country." "We were following a case, Mulder." She had unleashed the Mulderguilt and now it was up to her to appease it. "You haven't gotten any sleep. It's no wonder you're about ready to jump out of your skin." "I'm fi...." "Of course you're fine," he interrupted before she could finish the standard retort she used whenever she was anything but fine. "I slept on the plane and I know for a fact that you didn't." Mulder removed his jacket from her hands and bunched it up in his lap. "This storm doesn't sound like it's going to let up anytime soon. Why don't you lay your head down and rest. I'll wake you when the storm is over." Scully looked from his eyes down to where he expected her to 'lay her head' then back up to his eyes. "No Mulder," she stated firmly, attempting to edge away from him as she spoke. His arm around her shoulders held strong and he began to use that arm to urge her to lay her head in his lap. Scully realized she had two choices, she could fight him and probably end up clumsily sprawled in his lap making them both angry and uncomfortable or she could relent and allow him to satisfy his guilt and try to comfort her. In one quick motion she twisted onto her side and swung her legs up onto the end of the couch and oh so carefully rested her head on his jacket. Her eyes faced the fireplace and she could still look around the room. It wouldn't hurt if she pretended to sleep for a while until the storm had passed. Mulder's arm that had been around her shoulders hung awkwardly in the air. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, after all, he had pulled her out on a case - yet again - without giving her all the facts. He had - yet again - made her go an incredibly long period of time without sleep. It had seemed like a good idea that she should get some sleep while she could. He didn't know how far they would have to walk when the storm let up. It had seemed like a good idea... but now he had Dana Katherine Scully lying with her head in his lap and he didn't quite know what to do next. Slowly and gently he brought her arm down and rested his elbow in the crook of her waist, his arm resting along hers, his hand on her shoulder. "Don't drool on my coat." "Mulder," she moved to sit up but his arm held her down with a gentle pressure. "Shhhh... Close your eyes." She knew that was the last thing she planned on doing as her eyes continued scanning the room. "Do you want me to sing to you?" "No, Mulder." "Tell you a story?" "No, Mulder," she sighed, shifting her weight a bit to get more comfortable as she burrowed further into his lap. The harder she fought to keep her eyes open the heavier they became. "You aren't going to fall asleep, are you?" "No Scully, I'm not going to fall asleep." She shut her eyes, promising herself it would just be for a moment when she felt his fingers rhythmically stroking her temple and running through her hair. Her eyes snapped back open. "When I was young, when Samantha was only a baby, my mother used to do this when I couldn't sleep. It always helped me." Scully's breath felt trapped in her throat with her heart. Slowly she took a deep breath, mentally instructing herself as to what came next. Breathe in. Breathe out. Simple really, once you get the hang of it. After practicing a few more times, Scully closed her eyes and let her partner's gentle caresses lull her to sleep. He felt the instant she fell asleep. Her body relaxed and her breathing became deeper. His hand continued the soothing stroking of her temple, his fingers delighting in the feel of her skin and her hair. The storm continued to ravage the house from outside, the wind and rain hurling themselves against the old walls. Mulder could hear the battle against the structure and he briefly looked up when a small piece of wood covering the window fell victim to the onslaught and clattered to the floor.He quickly looked back to Scully to see if the noise had wakened her. She remained soundly sleeping. His hand momentarily ceased running through her hair and took the luxury of running over her skin, down her cheek and tracing her jaw-line. He didn't get very many moments like this with her. He didn't allow himself moments like this one. Moments where he could just sit back and take in her beauty without her being conscious of his observations. They were always so on guard, guarding against those that wished to see them fail or hurt them. More often than not they guarded against each other. A protective professional barrier existed between them that had been necessary in the beginning. Lately it seemed that that barrier was laying in a crumbled ruin at their feet and they were crossing it with more frequency and more intensity each time they stepped over the once sacred wall of defense. There were no barriers now. Scully slept silently in his lap, trusting that he would protect her while she slept. Not that his Scully would ever admit that she needed protecting. She was so strong, so much stronger than he was. His emotions he wore on his sleeve, she kept her emotions hidden. He was the one that would usually end up being comforted in her arms. He would be hurt or in shock and she would encircle him with her arms until he was stronger. The storm outside was roaring on but an unfamiliar sense of peace circled Mulder as he watched her sleep. His fingers returned to her temple and brushed her hair from her eyes. Did she do this? Did she sit while she was holding him and stroke his hair or let her fingers travel over his skin? Did she hold her hand on his forehead longer than usual when she was checking for fever in order to prolong the contact between them? The night he slept in her arms in the woods or when they were out in the snow -- did she sit and take solace in his breathing? He wanted to wake her to ask her if she needed his touch as much as he needed hers. He watched her, her features peaceful and relaxed, and he knew that he couldn't wake her, as much as he wanted to. He would have time to ask her when she woke. His hand continued to gently stroke her face as the storm raged on outside. The man watched the tender scene of the two people on the couch from a television monitor in the sub-basement below. His eyes glowed in excitement and madness. His breathing quickened as he watched the man comfort the woman while she slept. His pulse raced as he picked up on the deep feelings that the man obviously held for the woman. His pupils constricted as he considered what this couple had in store for them. "They're going to be perfect," he informed the empty room as a maniacal snicker escaped his throat. --- --- The wind and the rain continued to fight for control outside the broken house -- but inside Dana Scully was dreaming. Fox Mulder was about five minutes -- make that three minutes -- away from completely losing his composure and taking her right there on the musty sofa. She had been asleep for a little over an hour. The sweet torture had started soon after she'd drifted off. Scully was an active sleeper. She restlessly stretched her legs, moved her arms and generally made his job as a human pillow uncomfortably difficult. The games had begun when she had turned over, so that if she had awoken, she would have been eye to eye with his belt buckle...then things had gotten interesting. She had squirmed and he had moaned. She had snuggled and he had groaned. She had wiggled and he had whimpered. She had twisted and he had wrapped his arms around her in a effort to keep her from falling off the sofa. Scully, in her state of sleep, had taken his arms being around her as an open invitation to crawl more fully into his lap and get more comfortable. Her head was now tucked securely under his chin and her ass was nestled snugly in his lap. His arms held her tightly. He tried in vain to prevent any further movement that might cause her to shift against the lower part of his anatomy that seemed to be growing more and more interested in her unintentional seduction. She was quiet and Mulder breathed a sigh of momentary relief. He quickly realized that any movement *he* made also enhanced his own discomfort. Everything would be perfectly fine as long as neither of them moved. A loud clap of thunder rumbled through the house and Scully tried to physically burrow into his chest. "Shh...Shh..." he whispered into her hair. His voice instantly calming her. "Mulder..." she moaned in a deep throaty sleep-voice. *Jesus, Scully,* he thought cringing. One more moan like that and he was going to damn well finish what he had started in the hallway. The hallway. His eyes closed at the onslaught of emotions that suddenly overcame him. Weeks had passed and yet he remembered everything as if it were yesterday. The hallway. He remembered the warmth of her skin under his hands. His hand moved to cup her face while she slept, as it had that day. He remembered the anticipation and exhilaration when he had first realized what was about to happen. He was going to kiss Scully. Her eyes had welcomed him. Her lips had waited for him. He had slowly lowered his head until the heat of her breath caressed his lips. If he kept his eyes closed tightly enough he could almost feel her lip brush his...almost. Damn bee! Since that day he had added a can of bug repellent to his list of what he never traveled without. He could have sworn that day -- in that hallway -- that he had seen want in her eyes. He had seen desire. He had seen love. The moment had been so fleeting, gone so quickly, that now he wasn't sure if he had actually seen those qualities or if his hopeful imagination had painted that look in her eyes. They hadn't spoken of that day since they'd returned. She hadn't mentioned it. He hadn't mentioned it. She had taken great pains not to return to his apartment. Communication, unspoken. Sometimes their method of communicating -- by not communicating -- wasn't enough. Sometimes they needed words. Scully snuggled closer and he tightened his hold on her. She sighed, content. Maybe sometime was today -- was now. What if he had imagined it? What if the love he thought he saw in her eyes was only the reflection of the love for her in his eyes? It had taken five years for him to follow her into that hallway and tell her what she meant to him. It had taken the realization of his worst fear for him to tell her. The fear that she would leave him. His head had told him to let her go -- she'd be safer without him. His heart had kicked him in the gut and made him go after her. He couldn't let her go without her knowing the truth he'd been carrying around within himself for so very long. She had made him a whole person. Scully had filled his mind, his heart and his soul. How could you let half your soul walk out the door? Damn bee! He would have told her that day. He would have told her that he loved her after his lips had left hers, but he didn't have the chance. Everything from that moment until he got her back was a blur of agony. What do you do when half your heart is missing? You find it, or you die trying. When they were back in DC, and she was safe, he had listened to his head. He'd told her to leave him. He had existed for years without knowing what it was like to be complete, and he was willing to suffer the pain again if it meant that she would be safe. It would be harder now because he knew the fulfillment that she brought him, but he would push her away if that's what it took. She hadn't let him. She hadn't let him push her away. She had stood there, taken his hand and committed herself to him and his search -- their search -- more strongly than ever. He opened his eyes and looked around the candlelit room. Where had their search led them this time? The middle of nowhere. One step forward, two steps back. A maddening dance that had become their lives. A dance, that alone, he would never have survived. Mulder dipped his head and pressed his lips to Scully's forehead. He had taken the first step when he'd followed her into the hallway, the next steps would be easier. He had wanted to wait until she was stronger. Then he decided to wait until they were back into a routine at work. Then he decided to wait until the timing was right. He wasn't going to wait any longer. He needed to know if he had imagined the love in her eyes when she looked at him that moment in the hallway. He needed to know if he had imagined that she had leaned forward to meet his lips. He needed to know if he would ever be able to hold her like this if she were awake. He knew that he loved her, he needed to know if she felt the same towards him. When she woke up, they were going to talk -- really talk. Eddie Van Blundht talk. He didn't have a fire in the fireplace. He didn't have a bottle of wine. The only mood music in the background was thunder and rain, but he was there and she was there; in the past that was all they had needed. He nuzzled his face into her hair and rested his cheek against her forehead. Mulder closed his eyes and for an instant let himself revel in the moment. He was pulled out of his temporary bliss when a board above his head creaked loudly from the weight of someone stepping on it. His instincts went on immediate alert. "Scully," he whispered softly, so not to startle her. The wood continued to protest as someone walked across the floor above. They weren't alone in the house. "Scully, wake up," he spoke, still softly, but with more force. "What?" She asked, having a hard time shaking the peaceful slumber that she was in. "There's someone upstairs." "What!" Wide-awake now, Scully jumped from his lap, paying little attention to the fact that she had been in his lap. "Listen." Mulder stood by her side and both agents were silent. He knew the moment that she heard the movement. Her eyes grew big and immediately she reached behind her, and drawing her gun. Mulder grabbed the flashlight from the sofa and motioned for her to follow him into the hallway. Quickly they moved to the bottom of the steps. Scully stood quietly behind Mulder, waiting, listening. Her patience failing her, she stepped past Mulder and began to ascend the stairs, her gun gripped tightly in her hands. The rotting wood creaked loudly in protest beneath her small feet. She heard Mulder's footsteps behind her and her breath caught in her throat when he reached a hand out, placing it on her shoulder. "Scully," he whispered, turning her to face him. With her standing two steps above him, they were eye to eye. "Mulder, there's someone up there," she insisted urgently. Her voice matching his low whisper. "I know. Scully, someone may have come in a back door trying to get out of the rain." The irony of the current role reversal was not lost on him. "Mulder. Something is not right in this house. I'm going to find out what it is. Are you coming with me?" She searched his eyes for a moment. The doubt she saw there was soon replaced by trust. Mulder drew his gun and motioned for Scully to keep going. "I'm right behind you." Scully gave him a quick nod and turning she continued up the stairs. "Be careful. I don't know how safe these stairs are," he warned from behind. She reached out, gripping the railing in case the rotting wood beneath her feet were to give way. A particularly loud burst of thunder shook the house and she stopped for a moment, willing her heart rate to slow down. Mentally scolding herself for showing any sign of weakness, Scully straightened her shoulders and quickened her climb. Reaching the top, she waited briefly for Mulder. When she felt him behind her Scully turned the small corner at the top of the stairs and faced the long empty hallway. Her eyes followed the beam of the flashlight as Mulder surveyed the area, committing a mental map of the hallway to memory -- two doors on the left, three doors on the right and a window at the end of the corridor. Scully turned to Mulder who motioned toward the door closest to them on the right. She nodded and took her place to the left of the door frame. Mulder moved to the right. Capturing Scully's gaze and focusing on the task, Mulder reached out and took the doorknob in his hand. Still holding her eyes he nodded his head silently -- once, twice -- on the third gesture he turned the door knob and pushed the door open with his foot. Scully quickly stepped, gun drawn, into the open door frame as Mulder flooded the small closet with light. It was empty. Scully moved first, stepping to the first door on the left. Cautiously the agents repeated the maneuver. The room on the left was larger, but still empty. Her frustration growing, Scully began to move down the hallway to the second door on the right side. An ear-splitting cracking drew her attention to the window at the end of the hall. Unsure of the cause of the noise, Scully aimed her weapon at the window and took a step towards it, drawn to the eerie, unfamiliar sound. A large branch ripped away from the tree directly outside the window and crashed through the boarded up glass. The vicious wind took full advantage of the new path and whipped its way through the hall carrying rain and broken glass. Scully felt the water, wind and glass hurl past her face as she tried to cover her eyes with her arm. Momentarily unable to see she reached out, relieved when she felt Mulder's strong grip grasp her hand and pull her into the open room on the left. He quickly closed and secured the door and directed the beam of the flashlight onto Scully. Her eyes still irritated, Scully tucked away her gun and used her fingers to examine and rub the stinging area. "Scully, you're hurt." Mulder holstered his weapon and put the flashlight on the floor so that the beam of light hit the ceiling, dimly lighting the room and casting their shadows onto the far wall. "I think I might have gotten something in my eyes." She blinked a couple of times and her vision cleared, the previous irritation gone. "Must have been just water." Scully looked directly into his gaze to prove to him that she was indeed fine. Instead of relief she saw concern in his eyes as he walked toward her pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. "You're bleeding." Her hands moved to search her face but Mulder was quicker. He gently cupped her chin and tilted her head upward. "I think it's just a scratch," he said soothing her as he carefully blotted the small tear in her skin with the cloth. "You must have been hit by a piece of glass from the window." Mulder kept his hand on her cheek, applying soft pressure to the cut. His hands on her face were so warm, so familiar. Her heart beat a little harder against her chest when she remembered the last time they had stood like this. Their bodies so close. The moment so tender yet so charged with possibility. Scully looked into Mulder's eyes and knew that he remembered too. Not here. Not now. Her eyes broke away from his, wanting to look anywhere else. Needing to look anywhere else. They landed on the thin trickle of blood running down his hand. "Same piece of glass that hit you?" She pulled his hand away from her face and brought his attention to his own injury. She stepped away from him and pulled him closer to the flashlight so that she could get a better look at the cut. "Will I live?" He smirked. Choosing to ignore his remark she took the handkerchief away from him and cleaned up his hand. "Do you think that's what we heard? The tree pressing against the boards on the window?" "Probably, but it wouldn't hurt to search the rest of the house." She nodded, a little of the intensity she felt earlier was disappearing. Bending to pick up the flashlight a flicker of light beneath another door in the room caught her attention. Scully pulled her gun. Still bent over, she tapped on Mulder's leg to get his attention and pointed toward the door. She turned off the flashlight and the room became instantly black except for the faint glow of a lamp or candle that filtered through under the door. After giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, Scully moved to the left of the door frame. She heard Mulder move to the right. "Hand me the flashlight," he whispered. She held the flashlight out to him and was sure he had a hold of it before letting go. She gripped her gun in both hands and took a deep breath. "Ready?" She heard his whisper in the darkness and answered her reply. "Ready." What happened next happened quickly, but for Scully, time -- the universal invariant -- seemed to slow almost still. She heard Mulder turn the knob on the door then she heard him kick the door open. She readied her weapon and stepped into the opened room. A quick scan of the room showed no danger but then in the shadowed corner against the back wall...she saw her. "Mulder?" "I got you." Scully lowered her gun and walked past the small lantern sitting on the floor. She heard Mulder check the rest of the room for anyone else, but Scully's eyes never left her. Tied to a rusty metal bed frame, lying on an old bare mattress in the back corner of the long room was a woman. She was gagged and at the sight of Mulder and Scully she began to make frantic noises trying to get their attention. "You're safe. We're not going to hurt you." Scully checked behind her to make sure that Mulder still had his gun drawn. When she was certain that he did, she put hers away to free up both of her hands. Bending next to the woman, Scully first untied the gag and removed it from the woman's mouth. "Thank God. We have to get out of here. He's crazy." The woman sputtered urgently, her voice soft and a bit raspy from the gag. "You're safe. We're from the FBI. Who put you here? Who's crazy?" Mulder questioned as Scully moved to the bottom of the rusted frame to untie the woman's feet. "We are not safe! No one is safe in this house. We have to leave. Hurry!" She begged Scully as she fought with the knotted rope. "What's your name? How did you get here?" "My name is Melinda. I was driving and I got lost. I got a flat tire. Please hurry, we have to get out of here." Scully studied Melinda as the knots of the rope began to give way. She was tall, her bare feet almost reaching the end of the bed frame. Scully assessed her to be only a few inches shorter than Mulder. Scully couldn't guess accurately her age, but estimated her to be in her middle to late thirties. Her skin was very pale, appearing almost white in the flickering light of the lantern. She was very thin and was wearing a long, ragged, white gown that was modest in design. It appeared old, yet clean except for around the hem, which was soiled from where it must have dragged across the floor when she walked. Scully pulled the rope away from Melinda's feet. She took note of the chafed skin around her ankles that had come from the rough twine rope. Moving to the head of the bed she began to work on the rope that bound Melinda's hands above her head. She had long thick dark blonde hair that curled over the mattress and probably fell halfway down her back when she stood. Anyone would have judged the woman classically beautiful, but it wasn't Melinda's beauty that Scully couldn't look away from -- it was the terror and intensity of her deep green eyes. The same terror and urgency that had been steadily forming a twisted knot in the pit of Scully's stomach from the moment she had laid eyes on this house was mirrored in Melinda's eyes. Eyes that both captivated and haunted. "How long have you been here?" Mulder continued his questioning, still scanning the room with his eyes. "I don't know." Melinda answered weakly. "Four or five days. I'm not sure. Sometimes he keeps me in the basement in the dark. I don't know how long I've been here. We have to get out!" Scully untied her hands and Melinda instantly began rubbing the raw skin on her wrists. "Can you stand up?" Scully asked softly. Melinda nodded and slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. "Melinda?" Mulder moved closer to the bed. "Who tied you up?" "I don't know who he is. He keeps telling me that he has plans for me and that I can't leave. He says that I'll never leave." Melinda's voice shook with fear. "Please, get me out of here before he comes back." "We will. You're safe with us. Melinda?" Scully stepped between Melinda and Mulder and asked her softly. "Did he hurt you?" "No." Melinda shook her head. "He's just really scared me." "We'll get you out of here, but right now it's not safe to go out in the storm." "You don't understand. It's not safe to stay here." "Is he armed?" Mulder questioned. "No, I don't think so. I came in here when there was no answer at the door to see if I could find a phone. He hit me on the back of the head with something heavy." "Let me check the back of your head." Scully reached out but Melinda surged to her feet. She stood, a bit unsteadily at first. "It's fine. We're wasting time. We have to leave!" "You're safe." Scully tried to reassure her again. "You said he's not armed. We are." "You don't know him. We are *not* safe." "Does he stay here or does he come and go? Is he in the house right now?" "I don't know," she cried becoming more visibly upset. "Mulder," Scully stepped closer to him and spoke quietly. "Maybe we should try to get back to the car." "Even if we can get back to the car without getting struck by lightning, we can't go anywhere." "But it would get us out of this house." He could tell by the urgency in her voice that her instincts were screaming out to her. Her instincts had been dead on from the beginning, ignoring them now wouldn't be a wise idea. "Ok, Scully. Let's get her out of here." --- --- A cold wind blew through the room and the lantern at the center of the floor flickered and then went out. For a moment the room was dark. Scully heard Melinda's sharp intake of breath before Mulder turned the flashlight on and offered the room some light. He picked up the lantern from the floor. Setting it on the mantle of the fireplace, he pulled the matches from his pocket and re-lit the wick. Scully turned back to face Melinda, who cowered anxiously in the corner of the room. "Melinda, Mulder and I are going to get you out of here." Scully coaxed, offering the frightened woman her hand. Melinda timidly accepted and Scully drew her back out into the center of the room. "Our car isn't that far away. It has two flat tires but it's safe and it's dry. We'll have to wait there until the storm blows over and then we can figure out where we are." "I don't care where we go. Just please get me out of here." Melinda begged. "Do you know where he put your clothes?" Melinda shook her head sadly and looked down at the tattered gown and her bare feet. "He burned my clothes, my shoes, my purse and all my identification." Melinda lifted her eyes and looked directly at Mulder. "I can go like this." Scully watched Melinda's jaw sit in determination. "Let's go Mulder." "We'll grab my coat downstairs, that should offer you a little protection from the wind." Mulder walked to the door and then turned to face Melinda and Scully. "We're going to walk down the stairs. You two will go directly out the door and head toward the car. I'll grab my jacket and catch up with you. Don't wait for me. Try to stay in the grass along side the road. It's going to be muddy, but it will be better on Melinda's feet." Scully and Melinda nodded in understanding. Cautiously, Mulder opened the door. The wind and the rain continued to race down the hall. Lightning and thunder angrily took turns punishing the earth. The storm hadn't diminished since Mulder and Scully had entered the house -- it had intensified. Mulder turned to Melinda and taking her arm he gently pulled her to stand in front of him. "Scully," he shouted above the wind, "move up front." Scully questioned him with her expression only for a moment before realizing that he meant to shield them from the wind. She took the flashlight from him and pulling her gun, she started forward. Before she had even taken two steps an unearthly wail began downstairs and grew louder and louder, piercing the air. "Back!" Mulder yelled above the wind and the wail. Scully stood for a moment trying to identify the cry from below, but as quickly as it began, it was over. She turned and helped Mulder guide a terrified Melinda back into the room they had just left. Scully remained in the door frame, her hair whipped forward by the wind and stuck to her face because of the rain. Her gun and the flashlight remained trained toward the end of the hall. "We're too late." Melinda sobbed. "We're too late. He's here." Mulder stepped next to Scully, holding out his hand for the flashlight. "I'm going down. Stay here and take care of Melinda." Scully opened her mouth to argue that he shouldn't go alone but then she saw the look of terror on Melinda's face. She nodded and handed him the light, her fingers purposely brushing over his in the transfer. Her fingers gently told him to be careful. His thumb brushed hers in a silent 'I will'. "Melinda?" Mulder broke his gaze away from Scully for a moment. "Is there another way out?" "The back stairs." Melinda answered. Mulder turned his full attention back to Scully. "If I'm not back in ten minutes, you know what to do. Get Melinda out." Scully nodded as she mentally vowed that she would get Melinda out -- and then she would come back for him. She watched Mulder walk down the hallway. He turned and glanced at her briefly before disappearing around the corner. Closing her eyes, Scully's hand drifted up to the cross hanging around her neck. Quickly, she offered up the same prayer she always said when she was afraid that he wouldn't return to her. Dana Scully then closed the door and did the one thing she hated the most -- she waited. Mulder slowly make his way down the old staircase. The roof above had begun to leak. The water puddled in the center of the wooden stairs, making them even more treacherous to maneuver. The constant dripping sound echoed off the old walls. The front door stood open. Wet, dead leaves covered the floor inside the door. Mulder scanned the floor for wet foot prints and found none. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Mulder stepped out onto the porch and scanned the area. Tree branches lashed out at the house creating dark moving shadows over the yard. Not seeing anyone, he stepped back into the house and closed the door. Moving into the room where he and Scully had first been, Mulder grabbed his jacket off of the couch. The candles he had lit earlier were dark, but he couldn't be sure that the wind hadn't put them out. Again he checked the floor for foot prints tracked in from outside. The only prints he saw were his own. Gun first, Mulder walked back out into the long hall and used the flashlight to search the area. Something caught his attention on the floor. Sure that they hadn't been there just a moment ago, Mulder saw prints begin where the carpet of leaves ended, halfway down the corridor. The prints disappeared behind a closed door on the right. Approaching the door, a rush of adrenaline traveled through his bloodstream as he turned the knob and opened the door. Before he could scan the empty room or react to the whisper of noise behind him, he felt his world explode when a heavy blunt object connected with the back of his head. The pain was unbearable and as the floor seemed to rush up to meet him and before everything faded to black, his mind screamed her name. Scully. Scully sat on the mattress, anxious, while Melinda paced the room. Except for the storm outside, the house was quiet. Scully's eyes took turns between staring at the door and staring at her watch. Her mind took turns deciding between doing what she knew she should and doing what she knew she wanted. Her heart -- was silent -- half of her heart had left with Mulder. Unable to ignore her watch any longer, Scully surged to her feet and walked to the fireplace. Picking up the lantern from the mantle she walked to the door, checking behind her to see that Melinda was following. "Let's go. Mulder said ten minutes, we've already waited longer than that." "You're just going to leave him here?" "No." Scully answered vehemently. "I'm going to do what he told me to do and I'm going to get you out of this house. Then I'm coming back." Melinda reached out an arm and rested her hand on Scully's shoulder. "Thank you Agent Scully." Melinda whispered. "You said there were back stairs." "Last door on the right." "Stay behind me." Scully ordered. Scully lifted the lantern up to her face and slid the protective guard over the flame to ensure that it would stay lit. Opening the door, Scully and Melinda eased out into the hallway. The wind was ferocious and Scully fought to keep her eyes open as she faced the open window and advanced toward the door. The rain bit like broken glass as it hit her again and again in the face. Needing a break from the onslaught to clear her vision, Scully turned to face Melinda and was taken aback by what she saw. The statuesque woman stood in the center of the darkened hall. Her hair twisted and flew behind her as the wind swept it away from her face. The rain caused her gown to mold against her body and the excess of white material billowed in the wind. Her skin, which had appeared pale before, now seemed translucent in the flickering flame of the lantern and the lightning. She appeared ghostly as she walked toward Scully. Her eyes still as haunted as they were when Scully first saw her bound and gagged to the bed. Blinking several times to clear the rain from her eyes, the image of Melinda cleared and what Scully saw before her was a frightened woman who needed her help. A frightened woman she needed to help before she began looking for Mulder. Steeling herself against the storm, Scully turned and continued toward the last door on the right. The voice in her head repeating in urgency; get Melinda out, find Mulder. Get Melinda out, find Mulder. Find Mulder... Finally reaching her goal, Scully was dismayed to find that unlike the rest of the doors in the hall, this door opened out into the hall. Right in front of the open window. Keeping a tight grip on her gun, but setting the lantern on the floor, Scully began her struggle to open the door against the brutal force of the wind. Able to get the door open a crack, Scully shoved her foot in the small opening created. Tucking her gun away in order to use both of her hands, little by little she was able to wedge her body into the small space between the door and its frame. Bending at the knee, into a squat, with one leg on either side of the door she picked up the lantern and moved it to the other side of the door before standing up. "Melinda!" Scully shouted as Melinda attempted to help her with the door. "Get as close to my side as you can. When I move my foot away from the door, you slide in. Just like I am now." She was becoming breathless at the effort it took to keep the door from crushing her. "I'll help you from the inside as soon as I can get turned around and push. Do you understand?" A faint trace of something unrecognizable crossed Melinda's eyes. Before Scully could identify the emotion causing the change, the look was gone. Melinda nodded and stepped so that she was directly next to Scully. "Ready?" "Ready." Melinda confirmed. Scully edged out of the doorframe until all that kept the door from completely closing was her leg. She looked to Melinda, who nodded. Scully watched as Melinda slid her foot between the door and the door frame and with a nod to Melinda, Scully quickly pulled her leg from the opening. Before Scully could turn around to brace her weight against the door to help Melinda through -- the door slammed shut. "Dammit!" Scully snarled as she pounded her fists against the wooden door. "Melinda!" She screamed. "You pull the door and I'll push." She waited for a response and heard none. "Melinda!" She yelled again. Ready to brace her shoulder against the door to push it open against the wind, Scully put her hand on the door knob and...it was locked. Scully tried again and again to turn the knob, but to no avail. The door was locked. "Melinda!" She tried one more time before pounding on the door. She turned and quickly drew her gun and picked up the lantern. The dim light only reached about two feet in front of her and Scully could see no end to the steps that descended at her feet. Turning back to the closed door, she tried one last time at twisting the knob. Still locked. Her mind raced with possibilities, fears and accusations. The voice in her head now only repeated two words over and over again. Find Mulder. The air in the stairwell was stale and musty. Scully began walking down the steps, slowly, using the lantern to cast the dim light as far out as it was able. Her gun clutched tightly in her hand. She hadn't gotten very far when a new smell started to attack her senses. A smell that she wasn't able to identify -- as she got further down the stairs the odor grew stronger and stronger. Scully was forced to place her arm over her nose and mouth in order to keep breathing. Four steps lay in front of her before she saw the cement floor, and she was no longer able to deny the stench that now permeated the air she breathed, and clung to her like a cloak. It was the smell of death. Unable to stand it any longer, she fought the urge to gag, unsuccessfully. Gagging only brought more and more of the foul air into her lungs. She clamped her sleeved arm over her nose and mouth and tried to control and slow her breathing. Closing her eyes and taking in only the smell of the cloth of her coat, she was able to push down the bile rising in the back of her throat. Opening her eyes, but keeping her arm tightly over her face, Scully stepped down the last four stairs and held the lantern out in front of her. She was in a small room, with out any obvious outlets, no doors, no windows. Lowering the lantern, Scully again felt the bile climb up her throat. Bodies, in varying stages of decay, covered the floor. Stepping forward, she tried to count the individual bodies that spread out before her. One, two, three, four... Suddenly a hand reached around her from behind and grabbed the gun away from the arm she was using to protect herself from the stench. Scully reacted quickly and brought that same arm back forcefully until she felt her elbow connect with a solid target. The man behind her lurched forward in pain, but still clamped a rag over her face. Scully's hands rushed to her face and tried to pull and tear at the hand holding the material over her nose and mouth. She recognized the bitter smell and knew that she didn't have long. Distracting him by pulling at the arm covering her mouth, Scully raised her knee and stomped on the inside of his foot with as much strength as she was able to gather. "Bitch." The man holding her hissed as he lifted his leg off the floor in pain. Scully used the opportunity to try and throw him off balance and she jerked her body to the left. The man only tightened his grip around her mouth and they both fell backwards. Her captor fell onto the stairs and painfully twisted one of her arms around behind her back in punishment. As the pain traveled up her arm and exploded in her brain, the chemically treated cloth was making the room start to spin and as darkness began to swallow her up, her mind screamed his name. Mulder.