BROKEN

Prologue

3:21 AM
Highway 371
Minneapolis, MN

  The beat up Ô79 Buick clattered and clunked as it swerved, barely missing the bumper of a large moving van. The horn in the Buick honked loud and long, interrupted only by the masses of profanity the driver was emitting.
  Michael Samson was obviously under the influence of alcohol. The 41-year-old accountant had been fired earlier that night, and had spent the many hours since at the local bar. That was his first mistake. His second was picking up the car keys.
  His Buick skidded and jumped as he made the mad dash home to his wife and children. At 80 miles per hour speed, Samson dodged cars, blowing the horn and swearing loudly. He was a sure-fire pull over at any second.
  Then, fate took itÕs toll.
  Fate, and a Ô92 Ford pick-up truck.
  His alcohol-induced blurred vision didnÕt allow him to see the truck coming. Samson hit the breaks too late, not realizing he was in the middle of an intersection. The noise was horrid, with the sound of blaring horns, screeching tires, and scraping metal. And suddenly, nothing.
  Samson stumbled out of the Buick, now laying on itÕs side. He was dizzy from the impact, no doubt, but didnÕt seem to care. He walked over to the spot where the Ford sat. Blood streamed down the driverÕs motionless face.
  Samson squinted at him. He raised his fist and swung it with impressible force. With a CRUNCH! the fist collided with the obviously dead manÕs face. Samson nearly fell backwards, but was able to stay on his feet. ÒNext time,Ó he said to the body. ÒWatch where youÕre going, you worm.Ó
  Samson turned his attention now to the tree-covered landscape just outside the intersection. He struggled, swerving as he walked, off of the road, only stopping to flick anyone off who honked at him.

* * * *

  A few minutes later, the police arrived at the scene of the accident. Lieutenant Jim McDougall stepped out of one of the multiple police cars. He looked from one car to the next, from the overturned Buick to the smashed Ford. He shook and lowered his balding head. ÒItÕs a shame,Ó he said. ÒA complete shame.Ó
  McDougall just stood there, face to the ground, until Officer Lucas Portlann walked over. Portlann tapped him on the shoulder, and McDougall jumped up. ÒAnything wrong, McDougall?Ó asked Portlann.
  McDougall sighed, tears welling up. ÒThe boy... the one in the Ford... is he all right?Ó
  Portlann looked down at a small piece of paper he was carrying, scanning it for the information McDougall requested. ÒUhh... eyewitnesses say the one in the Buick caused the accident. He just got out and walked over to that field.Ó Portlann stopped reading to point to the field. He returned his eyes to the paper. ÒBut as for the boy... well, the truck got hit really hard, and...Ó
  McDougall interrupted. ÒIs he alive, Officer?Ó
  Portlann looked up. Slowly, cautiously, he shook his head. ÒHe was dead on arrival, sir.Ó
  McDougall winced, allowing tears to break free. He drooped his head again. ÒOfficer, you get out in that field at catch that drunk,Ó he said. ÒAnd bring him to me.
  ÒI want to see the man who killed my son.Ó

* * * *

  Frustration and alcohol were all that were controlling Michael Samson at the moment. He stumbled about, not really knowing or caring where he was going. He was running into trees, tripping over his own feet, all the time while quietly muttering to himself.
  But soon, quite muttering wasnÕt all Samson heard. He spun around, to see a young, black officer running after him, yelling. ÒHEY!Ó the voice called. ÒHEY!!! Stop immediately!! I repeat, stop immediately!Ó
  Portlann wiped the sweat off of his brow as he continued to sprint. He called out again. ÒThis is the Metro Area Police!! Stop!!Ó His call had no affect. He tried once again. ÒStop immediately! Stop! STOP!!!!Ó
  Samson didnÕt care about the advancing police officer. He just continued stumbling along, muttering.
  Portlann was quickly advancing. In only a few seconds...
  Samson still stumbled about, not worrying about the man chasing him.
  Only a few seconds...
  Then, came the green light. It was bright, incredibly bright. And whatever it was, it caught both menÕs attention and stopped them dead in their tracks. They both stared at the light, emitting from the top of the forest of pine trees nearby.
  There was a quiet hum as the light began to raise above the trees. The two men gaped at the awesome sight. Slowly, the light raised. They just stood, wrapped in awe and amazement. It was Portlann who broke the silence.
  ÒGeez, itÕs a... oh, my God, itÕs...Ó
  But he didnÕt need to finish. Both men knew exactly what they were staring at as it stopped itÕs ascent, hovering with only a soft hum above the trees.
  They knew exactly what it was.
  They were staring at a UFO.

* * * *

  The ground trembled as the explosion sounded.
  McDougall spun around, turning to the field that Portlann had run off into. There, a bright fire blazed, debris flying about the air. It was like a bomb had gone off. But who in their right mind would bomb a field?
  McDougall could only stare, confused.

* * * *

  Ò...and then, BOOM! It crashed! Must not of been more than 100 feet behind me!Ó
  Michael Samson sat in the dimly lit room on an uncomfortable chair. He glanced around the room excitedly, still nervous about what he had seen only an hour before. He thanked God he was still alive.
  SamsonÕs nervous gazing was interrupted by the voice of the elder man that sat across the table from his. ÒAnd then what happened?Ó the man asked.
  Samson coughed as the smoke from the cigarette the man was holding entered his lungs. His eyes shifted from the elder man, to the younger, dark haired man with the mustache in the dark trench coat. Both looked to be getting impatient, so he decided not to hesitate any longer.
  ÒIt exploded! The whole front end just exploded!Ó Samson cried out. He wiped the sweat from his cheeks.
  The man with the cigarette exchanged glances with the younger, then came closer. ÒWhat would you say you saw out there?Ó he asked, in a frightening voice that sent a chill up SamsonÕs spine.
  SamsonÕs head drooped, shaking back and forth. After a minute, he brought his head back up to look into the elderÕs eyes. ÒI wish I knew,Ó Samson said. ÒI just wish I knew.Ó

* * * *

  ÒAnd what would you say you saw out there?Ó
  Officer Lucas Portlann sat in the same dim room, in the same uncomfortable chair, talking to the same two men. ÒI dunno,Ó he stuttered. ÒIt was like somethinÕ out of the movies. Like in those Science Fiction films. YaÕ know, a... a spaceship!Ó
  The cigarette smoking man turned to the younger man, and snickered a little. He gave a slight nod, and the younger man returned it. The younger man ran his fingers through his mustache, then exited the room.
  ÒWhat was that all about?Ó asked a nervous Portlann.
  The cigarette smoking man paid no attention to the question. ÒYou think what you saw was an extra-terrestrial spacecraft?Ó
  Portlann shrugged. ÒDonÕt think it coulda been anything else.Ó

* * * *

  ÒWould you look at this mess? Anything that was in there didnÕt live to tell the tale!Ó
  It was a cold Minnesota morning. And yet, hundreds of workers were running about, cleaning up debris. From a safe distance, Portlann, Samson, and the two men stood, watching. The larger piece of the UFO was attached the the bottom of the helicopter. With the raise of a workerÕs hand, the helicopter raised, then flew off into the distance.
  The cigarette smoking man took a puff, and blew the sweet smoke outwards. He turned to Samson and Portlann. ÒIt looks as if a weather balloon went down,Ó the elder man said. He flickered a small smile. ÒProbably nothing that important. Thank you, gentlemen, for your help.Ó Both men nodded, then turned. Portlann guided Samson back to the police car, parked at the edge of the highway. The elder man called out again.
  ÒOh, and Portlann?Ó he asked. Portlann spun around. The cigarette smoking man smiled. ÒGo easy on Samson here.Ó Portlann nodded, then continued guiding Samson the car. As they left, the younger man with the mustache turned to the cigarette smoker.
  ÒTheyÕve seen too much,Ó said the elder man. The other nodded.
  ÒDonÕt worry,Ó the younger said. ÒThatÕs the last thing theyÕll see.Ó

* * * *

  Portlann pushed Samson into the car, shaking his head. ÒMan,Ó he said to Samson. ÒWhen we get to the station, you better pray to God Lieutenant McDougall is in a good mood. If he is, you might just receive a slow-painful death and not torture.Ó
  Samson winced as the door slammed next to him. Portlann walked around the car and got in on the driverÕs side. He put the keys, and began turning the ignition. ÒMan, you just better pray...Ó Portlann said.
  The engine gunned.
  Portlann barely had time to turn his head.
  The car exploded with a tremendous force, rolling it into the middle of the street.
  And before PortlannÕs life suddenly ended, he swore that he could have heard laughing in the distance.

* * * *

  Mulder sat in his apartment, flipping through television stations like there was no tomorrow. It had been a boring week. It seemed like nothing paranormal was happening around the country. So this is what he did every night. He just came home and vegged out in front of Sally-Jesse.
  Suddenly, he heard the front door open. His senses became alert in an instant. He looked around, hoping to find his gun. Painful realization told him he had left it in the kitchen. He swore to himself.
  The footsteps creaked as they approached. Whoever was in the apartment was getting closer. There was no way Mulder could make it to his gun. He winced as the intruder stepped around the corner and into the room...
  Mulder sighed with relief and stood up. It was Scully. He walked over towards her.
  ÒScully,Ó he smiled. ÒWhat are you doing here? And... and howÕd you...?Ó
  Scully interrupted with a beaming smile. ÒShh.Ó she whispered. She walked up closer. MulderÕs heart began to race. She pressed herself against him and brushed her lips against his. Mulder smiled. He turned his head to kiss her and...

* * * *

  Mulder awoke in a cold sweat.
  He looked around, startled. Everything was as it should be.
  He got out of bed and walked around. He had dreamed it all. Again.
  The dream seemed to be coming more often.
  He shook his head and went back to bed.

******************************************************************************

Chapter One: Witness

Federal Bureau of Investigation
Washington, DC
3:23 PM

  Ò...Mr. Michael Samson, and Officer Lucas Portlann. Both are blown to bits by a car bomb only five hours after they witness a UFO crash.Ó
  In his dark office within the lower levels of the FBI Headquarters, Agent Fox Mulder stood. The only light emitting from the room came from a slide projector, positioned in front of a white screen. His partner, Agent Dana Scully, smirked. It had been a while since she had had the ÒpleasureÓ of one of her partnerÕs famous slide-shows.
  With a small *click*, and Mulder walked up to the screen. ScullyÕs face turned from a smirk to mild disgust as she looked at the slide now being shown. The bloody remains of the two victims were scattered across the highway. Mulder continued.
  ÒPortlann and Samson were the only two major witnesses, but another police officer, Lieutenant Jim McDougall...Ó Mulder paused to changed slides. With another *click*, McDougallÕs photo filled the screen. Scully let out a silent sigh of relief, now that the gory wreckage scene was gone. Mulder continued. Ò...McDougall saw the fiery explosion from a distance, but was the only man besides our two road killed buddies to actually investigate the wreckage.Ó
  Scully shook her head. She looked into his eyes. ÒMulder,Ó she smirked. ÒThis is a tabloid story. Hundreds of them come in every week. ItÕs about as intriguing as the National Enquirer.Ó
  Mulder chuckled. He approached Scully. ÒYou donÕt think itÕs a little strange that the only two excellent witnesses become victim to a car bomb less than half a day after they witness a Ôweather balloonÕ crash?Ó
  Scully shook her head with disbelief and sighed. ÒMulder,Ó she said. ÒEvery day, hundreds, maybe thousands, of UFO sightings are reported! Yes, itÕs a little awkward, perhaps a little confusing, why the two witnesses suddenly died, but there is obviously an explanation!Ó She stood up, and sighed again. ÒI mean,Ó Scully continued. ÒWhat makes this different than any of the other stories that are reported every day?Ó
  Mulder turned to face her, a smile on his face and a glint in his eye. He pressed a button on the projector, and the machine clicked to the next slide. Mulder walked up to the screen. Scully stared, puzzled.
  It was a newspaper article from the Star Tribune. The headline read, *Downed UFO or Weather Balloon?* She began scanning the document as Mulder read it aloud. ÒEarlier this morning, at approximately 3:30 am, two men witnessed what both believed was a UFO crash. The government was called in immediately with a team of FBI agents lead by an anonymous elder man...Ó Mulder stopped reading, turning back to Scully. She stared, a pale expression on her face.
  Mulder nodded, his smile widening. Ò*THATÕS* what makes this tabloid different. My... buddy... is in control. And I think *HEÕS* the reason we no longer have effective witnesses.Ó Scully raised her eyes to meet MulderÕs.
  ÒI think,Ó Mulder smirked. ÒThat the cover upÕs already begun.Ó

* * * *

Minneapolis, MN
7:19 PM

  It was cold and lonely in the empty bar. Jim McDougall sat off-duty, in front of a Miller Lite and a small television playing a rerun of ÒPardon My Zinger!Ó. His mind wandered, from his sonÕs death to the fact that justice wasnÕt brought to the crime. He shook his head to no one in particular. Slowly, he tipped the rest of the Miller into his throat.
  He stood up slowly, the stool creaking as he did. One beer wouldnÕt have an affect on his driving, he thought. He dropped a few wadded-up bills on to the counter and silently walked out the door.
  The Miller hadnÕt dampened his depression, that was for sure. McDougall slowly walked to the squad car and opened the door. Gunning the engine, he backed out from the parking place. He admired the scenic landscape in this portion of the town. It was so nice. It reminded him of playing baseball with his son years ago, before anything like what had happened could have.
  So nice...
  So nice, that he didnÕt notice the silhouette of the figure raising in the backseat of the car until it was too late.

* * * *

8:29 PM

  The car door slammed shut as Mulder and Scully advanced to the house across the street. Mulder blew outwards and shook his head, laughing. Man, he though. ItÕs the middle of October, and I can see my breath.
  The door was answered almost immediately after Mulder knocked. A blonde women, probably in her middle forties, stood. ÒYes?Ó she asked to the two agents. ÒWhat do you want?Ó
  Mulder and Scully stood outside the household of Lt. Jim McDougall. Mulder jumped on the question. ÒAgents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. WeÕre with the FBI,Ó he said. ÒIs your husband home? WeÕd like to ask him a few questions.Ó
  The women, obviously McDougallÕs wife, shook her head. ÒHe isnÕt home yet,Ó she said. ÒProbably working late. But he should be home shortly.Ó She paused nervously. ÒIf youÕd like, you can wait inside.Ó
  Mulder nodded, and flashed a smile. He was glad to get out of the October cold.

* * * *

  ÒJim hasnÕt said much since the incident a few nights ago. Billy was our only boy, and... *sob*... IÕm sorry.Ó
  Mulder and Scully sat at a small table in a cozy kitchen with a weeping Mrs. McDougall. Mulder looked around. He was still cold. How could anybody in their right mind want this kind of weather in October?
  Mulder turned back to the weeping lady. ÒMrs. McDougall,Ó he asked. ÒWhat does your husband think he saw out there?Ó
  Mrs. McDougall wiped her eyes with a handkerchief sitting on the table, then looked at the two FBI Agents sitting across from her. ÒI donÕt know what he saw,Ó she said, shaking her head. ÒBut he says he had never seen anything like it. It wasnÕt like any airplane that he knew about, so he says.Ó
  Mulder smiled. ÒDoes your husband believe in the existence of extra-terrestrialÕs, Mrs. McDougall?Ó Out of the corner of his eye, Mulder saw Scully roll her eyes as she sighed. He smirked a little. How many years had she been his partner? Three? Four? And still, she was as skeptical as the first day he met her.
  ÒI donÕt know, Mr. Mulder,Ó said Mrs. McDougall. ÒYouÕll have to ask him for yourself.Ó
  Mulder, nodded, then continued with the questions. ÒArenÕt you a little nervous? I mean, the first two witnesses were killed due a car bomb less than half a day after they witnessed the crash. Do you think your husband is all right?Ó
  Mrs. McDougall opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the ringing of a telephone. ÒExcuse me,Ó she said to Mulder and Scully, standing up. ÒI bet thatÕs Jim now.Ó

* * * *
  ÒScully, all I want to do is ask Mr. McDougall a few, simple questions. Nothing but!Ó
  Scully shook her head at Mulder. ÒMulder, just take it easy! This man just lost his only son! What youÕre going to ask him can wait a few days if needed!Ó
  Mulder shook his head. ÒNo, it canÕt,Ó he spat. ÒBecause IÕm afraid that the coverup will take itÕs full swing by then. YouÕve seen this kind of thing before, too.Ó
  ÒListen, Mulder. I donÕt care WHAT you...Ó
  Suddenly, a loud sob came from the next room. Mulder and Scully both looked up at the same time, frightened and surprised. They ran into the living room, where Mrs. McDougall was pressed against the wall, cradling the phone, tears streaming down her face. Scully knelt down beside her. ÒMrs. McDougall, are you okay?Ó she asked.
  But she didnÕt need an answer to know what had happened. And neither did Mulder. Scully slowly turned her head up. Mulder just stood, his face wrapped in a meaningless expression. They both knew exactly what had happened.
  And they knew they no longer had any witnesses.

* * * *

9:02 PM

  The corner of 35th and Maine had been completely blocked off as they hauled away the body from the totaled squad car. Mulder and Scully stood with Lieutenant John Breams of the Metro Area Police, looking over the crumpled car.
  Ò...from the look of it, he died on impact. Too bad. He was one heckuva good officer. And IÕve never known him to hit the bottle *THIS* hard.Ó
  The large oak tree outside of Washington Middle School had withstood the impact of both the car, as well as the body that had been flown through the windshield. The spot where the corpse had laid was covered in and still strongly smelled of blood. Mulder turned away from the gruesome sight to Lt. Breams. ÒHow do you know he was intoxicated?Ó Mulder asked.
  Breams pointed to the disfigured car. ÒTake one whiff inside,Ó the young officer said. ÒAll youÕll smell is blood and beer.Ó
  Mulder walked to the wreckage. Breams was right. The overpowering smell nearly knocked Mulder to his feet. He held his breath as he began to examine the interior.
  Scully walked over to the stretcher where the body lay. Slowly, she peeled down the thin covering. It was a horrible sight. He was covered in scrapes and cuts, and his stomach had been completely torn open, probably from his flight through the windshield. His left arm was shattered, every bone broken. She turned to one of the men who had been wheeling the stretcher away. ÒCan you turn him over?Ó she asked.
  The back of Lt. McDougall was just as bad. Sliced from head to toe. She shook her head at the sight. She began to turn him back to his front side, when something caught her eye. There was a cut in the upper neck, a very fine cut, which had penetrated the Medulla Oblongota. It was too fine and too deadly for such a random injury.
  ÒMulder,Ó Scully called, not taking her eye off the body. Mulder looked up from the car and ran over to Scully. She continued, still staring at the corpse. ÒLook at this. ThereÕs an incision made here, but no piece of glass could have done this! ItÕs too deep, and it chopped his Medulla nearly in half!Ó
  Mulder winced at the sight of the body. ÒAre you saying it looks like he was murdered?Ó
  Scully turned the body back over. She looked up at her partner. ÒMulder, why would anybody want to kill McDougall?Ó
  Mulder flashed a small smile, ignoring the question. ÒScully,Ó he began. He paused, to look at the body. ÒBoth you and I know EXACTLY why.Ó

* * * *

  Mulder sighed with relief and stood up. It was Scully. He walked over towards her.
  ÒScully,Ó he smiled. ÒWhat are you doing here? And... and howÕd you...?Ó
  Scully interrupted with a beaming smile. ÒShh.Ó she whispered. She walked up closer. MulderÕs heart began to race. She pressed herself against him and brushed her lips against his. Mulder smiled. He turned his head to kiss her and...

* * * *

  Mulder sighed as he sat up. He flipped on the lamp next to his bed. He shook his head.
  The dream was happening too often. WAY too often. How could he deny his feelings? He shook his head, whispering a curse to no one in particular. He got up to make some coffee.
  He had to tell her.
  Soon.

******************************************************************************

Chapter Two: Investigation

Near Highway 371
Minneapolis, MN
8:21 AM

  ÒGeez,Ó thought Mulder out loud, rubbing his arms rapidly up and down his arms. ÒItÕs even colder than it was last night. What are these people, Eskimos?Ó
  Fox Mulder and Dana Scully slowly approached the area where the UFO had crashed a few nights earlier. Scully flashed Mulder a smiling glance from his comment.
  Mulder looked around. One hundred yards ahead sat an area of charred grass and sticks. Besides that, everything looked clean. Mulder swore silently to himself. He wished he could have gotten there before the cancer man had.
  Despite the cold, it was a fairly nice morning. Mulder smiled at the thought. ÒAhh,Ó he chirped to himself. ÒSmell that clean, fresh air. A nice break from the big cities.Ó He turned to look at his partner. ÒItÕs a perfect morning for UFO hunting, wouldnÕt you say, Dr. Scully?Ó he laughed.
  Scully shook her head, obviously not amused. ÒIÕm tired, Mulder,Ó she spat. ÒThis was my week off. Thanks to you and your alien obsession, IÕm out here looking for a tabloid header.Ó
  Mulder smirked a little at the attitude she had towards the case. ÒTouchŽ,Ó he smiled.
  She continued. ÒLetÕs just cut the crap, Mulder. I want to go home.Ó
  They had now reached the burnt area in the grass. Mulder stopped, still smirking, as Scully bent down and began to investigate the crash sight. Suddenly, he found himself thinking about the reoccurring dream.
  God, she was beautiful...!
  Scully paused and turned when she realized her partner wasnÕt helping. ÒHey, Mulder!Ó
  Mulder shook his head, dumbfounded, trying to think clearly again. He managed to choke out a, ÒHuh?Ó
  She shook her head impatiently. ÒYouÕre the UFO nut,Ó she spoke. ÒAre you going to help with the investigation or what?Ó
  Mulder returned a sarcastic smile, then walked over to help.

* * * *

  Skinner began to choke as he entered the office of the mysterious figure, due to the smoggy, smoke-filled air. He barely managed to withstand it, but the fact that one simple cough could mean his job when dealing with such a high authority figure kept his choking sensations in.
  The vision in the office didnÕt surprise Walter Skinner in the least. It was worse than the smell. He thought he recognized the outline of pictures on the wall, but couldnÕt be sure. He jumped, however, when an elderly voice suddenly came from the cloud of tar. ÒSit,Ó was the cliche it chose.
  Skinner nodded, still trying to not breath in the deadly poisons in the air. He walked to what resembled a desk behind the thick clouds and sat in a chair placed for him. Upon squinting, he recognized an elder man with dark gray hair, and, not surprisingly, a cigarette. ÒSir,Ó Skinner asked to the man. ÒYou wanted to see me?Ó
  The man behind the cloud took a puff from the cigarette. ÒAgent Skinner,Ó he rasped, before blowing out a cloud of dark smoke, adding more into the air. ÒI understand youÕve assigned Agent Mulder to the...Ó He paused, searching for the right words. Ò...the, uh, ÔWeather BalloonÕ crash in Minneapolis.Ó
  Skinner winced as the smoke began to make his eyes water. ÒYes,Ó he said, slowly but firmly. ÒYes, thatÕs correct. Is there a problem?Ó
  The elder didnÕt answer the question. Instead, he shot back another, this one with a tad of sarcasm in his voice. ÒSkinner, is this the same Mulder whoÕs obsessed with the so-called ÔX-FilesÕ?Ó The elder man chuckled. Skinner opened his mouth to answer, but was stopped by another question. ÒThe same Fox Mulder whoÕs reputation is summed up by his nickname, ÔSpookyÕ?Ó He paused. ÒSkinner, is this the same Fox Mulder whoÕs irrational decisions and reports have almost gotten him fired, time after time?Ó
  ÒSir,Ó Skinner said, finally getting used to the smoke. ÒMulder is a fine agent. HeÕs helped the government a number of times! He was the one that caught Boggs, remember? And...Ó
  ÒSkinner,Ó interrupted the elder man. ÒYou assigned the same Fox Mulder whoÕs been so possessed with finding his long lost sister that he believes was captured by aliens to a UFO crash case?Ó
  Skinner nodded, beginning to get angry. ÒYes,Ó Skinner spat. ÒThatÕs the same Mulder. But heÕs a fabulous agen...Ó
  ÒSkinner,Ó said the cigarette smoker, standing up. ÒSkinner, I want Mulder off this case. I want Mulder off this case immediately. Those irrational decisions will no doubt be made on this case, and, like you said, heÕs too good of an agent to lose to that... *dark* side of his.Ó The cancer man chuckled to himself. Yeah, he thought. That sounds good. That sounds caring enough.
  Skinner shook his head, but was once again interrupted by the elder. ÒI understand that the ÔX-FilesÕ have been taken out of commission before, is that correct?Ó
  Skinner paused, making sure that he was not to be interrupted again. ÒYes,Ó he replied, simply, seeing where the tar infested man was going.
  ÒAgent Skinner,Ó the man said, pacing back and forth behind his desk. ÒMulder, working on the X-Files, while trying to cope with his sisterÕs ÔabductionÕ... well, itÕs not a good combination. We canÕt afford all of the pressure on him,Ó the man smiled. ÒAnd so therefore, I have decided to discontinue the X-Files.Ó
  Skinner winced, but not from the smoke. Anger boiled inside of him. One swing of the fist...
  ÒPermanently,Ó the man finished.
  Skinner didnÕt move. He wouldnÕt. One wrong move, and his job was as useful as last nightÕs garbage. The man was trying to get to Mulder, but why...?
  ÒReassign Agent Mulder to violent crimes, or something else,Ó the cancer man continued, sitting down again. ÒAnything else. Just donÕt lose him.Ó
  Skinner clutched the side of the armchair he sat in. Slowly, he stood up. The elder manÕs eyes followed him. ÒCall Mulder,Ó the man said. ÒGet him back here as soon as possible.Ó Skinner nodded, and walked to the door. With a creek, it opened, exposing the fresh air outside.
  Just one swing...
  Skinner sighed, and walked out the door.

* * * *

  ÒWoo-ee, man! Never seen ANYTHING like it. Where nÕ earth did you dig this up?Ó
  Mulder stood in the dark room, overlooking FrohikeÕs viewing in the microscope of the substance he had found that day at the crash sight . It was a bright green and glowing. ÔKind of like liquid Jello,Õ was how Byers had described it.
  Behind Mulder, Scully stood with Byers and Langly. She looked around what the three ÔLone GunmenÕ called an office. Scully chuckled to herself. ÔIt looks like my room did when I was 10Õ, she thought.
  Frohike continued. ÒMan, Mulder,Ó he said, adjusting the microscope. ÒWhatever this crap is...Ó he said, trailing off. Mulder tapped FrohikeÕs shoulder, and Frohike slid out of the way. Mulder looked into the microscope. The green substance wiggled about, and Mulder shook his head.
  To phrase it in the words of such an analyst as Frohike: Yeah. What was this crap?
  Mulder sighed. ÒYouÕve never seen anything close to it? I mean, this is something brand new?Ó
  Frohike flashed a slight smile. He raised his hand, putting his index and middle fingers together and sticking them in the air. ÒScoutÕs honor,Ó he chuckled, pushing Mulder out of the way.
  Mulder sighed, shaking his head. ÒHmmph,Ó he snorted.
  His concentration was suddenly broken by the ringing of a telephone. He immediately jolted upright, grabbing the phone. ÒMulder,Ó he answered.
  Scully gazed on from behind. Suddenly, Mulder spun around, an angry and confused look on his face. ÒWhoa, whoa, whoa,Ó Mulder said, obviously not the least bit happy. ÒWhat do you mean IÕve been reassigned?Ó

* * * *

  Skinner shook his head at MulderÕs comment. ÒYou heard me. SomeoneÕs pulling your strings, if you ask me, Mulder, but I was ordered personally. YouÕve been reassigned, and so has Agent Scully.Ó Skinner paused, wondering what MulderÕs reaction would be to what he said next. He winced, then continued.
  ÒMulder, the X-Files have just been permanently shut down.Ó

* * * *

  ÒWhat?!Ó was all Mulder could choke out.
  Scully stared as MulderÕs confusion sank away, molding into pure anger. He began yelling into the cel phone. ÒWhat in GodÕs name do you think youÕre protecting, huh?!Ó Mulder yelled in a fit of rage. ÒI mean, what do you think are you doing? Man, I must be getting pretty close to popping the lid off this whole UFO secret to get FIRED.Ó
  Skinner sighed on the other end of the line. ÒMulder, you havenÕt been fired,Ó Skinner said. ÒYouÕve only been reas...Ó
  ÒReassigned,Ó Mulder spat, interrupting. That was the FBI term for ÒfiredÓ. Mulder was unaware that he had The Lone GunmenÕs attention, as well as ScullyÕs, too. He continued. ÒYouÕre just taking me away from everything youÕre protecting. Because IÕm getting too close to figuring it out! You cancel me out. Just like the X-Files. You cancel me out.Ó He sighed, then continued.
  ÒSkinner, youÕve got a lot of nerve calling me here. But you know me. And you know IÕm not going to take this kind of crap from you. I donÕt care how you feel about it, but IÕm staying with this case. No question, no argument, no nothing. You got that?Ó
  Skinner tried to speak again. ÒMulder, listen...Ó
  Mulder interrupted, too furious to care what Skinner had to say. ÒNo. YOU listen.Ó Mulder winced. He paused, then threw the phone to the cold cement floor. Pieces went flying it every direction, but Mulder wasnÕt pleased yet. ÒSkinner...Ó Mulder said, but he was too disgusted to finish. And with that, he threw his foot down. Hard. The phone went to abrupt silence.
  Mulder sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow. Suddenly, he became aware of everyone around him. He glanced from Scully to Langley to Byers to Frohike. All of their eyes were fixed, motionless, upon him.
  Angered and confused, Mulder threw his foot to the floor again, harder this time. The cel phone was completely unrecognizable. Mulder sighed, staring at the floor for a minute. Finally, he grabbed his overcoat and walked away.

* * * *

  Mulder lay, still upset about the events that had occurred earlier, on the bed in ScullyÕs motel room. He glanced about, until finally his eyes fixed upon her. Scully sat across from him in a small, green chair. ÒSo thatÕs it, huh?Ó she asked, already knowing the answer. ÒThis is our last case as partners.Ó
  Mulder remained motionless, his voice coming out in one monotone pitch. ÒNot if I have anything to say about it,Ó he spat.
  Scully sighed, long and heavy. ÒWhen are you going to learn, Agent Mulder?Ó she smiled. The smile abruptly faded. ÒRight now, youÕve still got a job. Rebelling could get you fired.Ó She drooped her head, not knowing what was the right thing to say. ÒDonÕt play an ace if a two will do, Mulder,Ó was what she came up with.
  Mulder slowly sat up. He immediate brought his eyes up to stare into hers. He smiled a little. She had the most beautiful eyes...! And suddenly, he knew what to say. He knew that it was time to tell her.
  ÒMulder?Ó Scully asked, her eyes taking on a confused look. ÒMulder, what is it?Ó
  It was time.

******************************************************************************

Chapter Three: Abduction

Near Highway 371
Minneapolis, MN
2:16 AM

  Mulder ran.
  It was a particularly cool night in Minneapolis, but Mulder didnÕt seem to notice. Sweat dripped down his forehead. Hidden by the darkness of the forest of trees near where the UFO had crashed, Mulder stared straight ahead, fixed on one destination.
  He swore to himself. How could he have been so stupid? Yelling at Skinner was dumb, and probably got Mulder fired, but what he had just done was ever worse. The day had fizzled as soon as he confronted Scully...
  Mulder continued to run.

* * * *

  Mulder stared into her eyes, sitting across from her in the motel room. ÒMulder, whatÕs wrong?Ó Scully asked, confused. 
  MulderÕs mind raced. What was he supposed to say? He needed to tell her. But how? ÒScully...Ó he began, but words failed him. He shook his head, searching for the right words, but frustration clogged his brain.
  Scully was nervous. What was wrong with Mulder? ÒMulder,Ó she said. ÒPlease. Tell me.Ó
  It was time.
  It was as she said those words, that all of MulderÕs emotions, all of his instinct, all of his feelings snapped. Everything molded together. He gently placed his hands upon her smooth cheek. Scully began to tremble. ÒMuld...Ó she said, trying to speak. But she was muffled by MulderÕs lips suddenly being pressed to hers. She didnÕt know what to do, but she didnÕt struggle. And for the first time in years, everything in Fox MulderÕs life was perfect.
  Scully slowly pulled away, trembling more than before. ÒM-Mulder?Ó she managed to choke out.
  Mulder sighed, placing his face in his hands, then abruptly raised it again. ÒDana,Ó he smiled, using her first name. ÒI... I...Ó
  Scully only stared into his dark eyes.
  Mulder sat perfectly still for a minute. He gulped a small, unrecognizable gulp. ÒScully,Ó he said. ÒThereÕs a dream I want to tell you about...Ó

* * * *

  Mulder was nearing the edge of the forest now, and was still showing no signs of slowing. How could he have been so stupid? To tell her about the dream, to ask her that stupid question, and to KISS her?! Twigs and sticks protruding from the ominous trees scraped deep into his skin. Mulder paid no attention.
  He just ran.

* * * *

  The exhaust growled as Mulder screeched down the street.
  The neighborhood was a cozy one, a place where you wouldnÕt expect anything to go wrong. But it had. He swore at himself repeatedly, wondering what had caused him to make that one mistake that would forever change his relationship with the best friend heÕd ever had.
  It had torn his heart in two. The kiss was so wonderful, but she hadnÕt said a word as he told her of the dream. But then he made that fateful mistake. ÒDo you love me, Dana?Ó he had asked. And she had just stared.
  Just stared.
  Mulder looked around. He saw a deep forest to the left of him. And Mulder knew exactly where it lead. To where this whole mess had begun. To the clearing alongside the highway.
  Mulder skidded the car to the left. He opened the door of his car, throwing his overcoat on the front seat. He turned to the woods, and began to run. Towards the crash site.
  There was something he needed to do.

* * * *

  ÒSkinner, for the last time, I have no idea where he is.Ó
  Scully sighed a heavy sigh, shaking her head back and forth. She sat silently on the motel bed on her cel phone, Walter Skinner on the other line. ÒOkay, Scully,Ó Skinner said in a calm voice. ÒJust calm down. Do you have any idea why he would run away like that? It just doesnÕt seem like the Mulder I know.Ó
  Scully searched frantically for a reason. She didnÕt want to tell Skinner about the kiss, or the dream, or anything. ÒSkinner, you took away everything important to him! Mulder thinks the X-Files are his only chance for finding his sister!Ó Scully stopped and though about what she had said. She was wrong. Skinner wasnÕt the only one who had made Mulder miserable.
  SkinnerÕs calm voice had become an angry one. ÒListen, Agent Scully,Ó he hissed. ÒI would *never* take away MulderÕs X-Files, okay? The reason? Because heÕs too good of an agent to lose.
  ÒI was ordered personally by a much higher official to discontinue the X-File project immediately. He told me to get you two back here as soon as possible. Why? I have no idea. But donÕt blame me.Ó Skinner finished with a sigh.
  Scully was now equally as angry, but she fought to keep it in. ÒFine,Ó she spat. ÒBut heÕs my partner, and IÕm going to find him.Ó Scully brought her ear away from the phone.
  Skinner became suddenly nervous. ÒAgent Scully,Ó he yelled. ÒDonÕt you dare leave that motel. Stay right where you are! Leave this to...Ó
  Skinner stopped and glanced at the phone.
  He had been interrupted by the dial tone.

* * * *

  ÒYou... you lost them?Ó
  SkinnerÕs body had become numb to the smoke the first time he had sat in the cloudy office, only hours before. Still, his eyes couldnÕt peer through the smog that well, and he still couldnÕt identify the elder man.
  Skinner spoke. ÒMulder took off to God knows where,Ó he said, shaking his head. ÒScully followed.Ó Skinner stopped, then looked up into the evil eyes peering through the cloud. ÒBut donÕt you *dare* blame your doings on me. ItÕs *your* fault that MulderÕs gone. YouÕre the one who discontinued the X-Files.Ó Skinner stopped, furious.
  The cancer man was equally furious, standing up. He shot his head through the cloud of smoke, stopping it inches from SkinnerÕs face. It was the most hideous sight Skinner had ever seen. He was an elder man, a wrinkled face probably caused by the cigarette smoke. Below his eyes the skin was stained yellow, and the eyes themselves...
  ÒYouÕve got a lot of nerve,Ó the cigarette smoking man bellowed. ÒGet out of my office. DonÕt even consider reporting back to this building.Ó He paused and pulled his face back. ÒWeÕll leave these kind of cases to REAL agents.Ó
  Skinner trembled, his fist ready to swing. But he didnÕt dare. He through his chair to the ground with a grunt, and walked the the door.
  Just one swing...
  The door slammed shut behind him.
  The cancer man just shook his head.

* * * *

   Scully came to a screeching halt at the sight of MulderÕs abandoned car.
  Slowly, she opened the door. Approaching the car, she searched frantically for Mulder. She looked everywhere. He was nowhere to be seen. She looked inside the car.
  MulderÕs overcoat was heaped in a pile next to his badge and gun. The gun. Maybe Mulder had...
  Stop it, Dana, she though. Pull yourself together. Your rejection wouldnÕt have forced the best friend youÕve ever had to kill...
  No.
  Mulder was alive. She could feel it.
  Quickly, she jumped into her car and sped away.

* * * *

  Mulder panted and wheezed after running what had seem like an eternity. Sweat dripped down his brow and into his eyes. He looked down at the charred spot in the grass. This was the place. Slowly, he brought his head to the sky. And began to scream.
  ÒITÕS YOUR FAULT!!!!Ó he yelled to the eternal darkness above. ÒItÕs all your fault!!!! You came in to my life when I was twelve and you RUINED IT!!!Ó Mulder panted, trying to catch his breath.
  ÒItÕs because of you my life is nothing!! You took away everything!!!! ItÕs because I investigated this crash that the X-Files are gone! If not for this case, Scully still wouldnÕt know about my feelings!! YOU TOOK MY SISTER!!!! My life is a mess because of you!Ó
  Mulder dropped to his knees. His head drooped to the ground. ÒItÕs your fault,Ó he said, almost a whisper. Tears began to flood his eyes. ÒItÕs all your fault.Ó
  And then came the humming.
  Mulder glanced back up to the skies. What he saw made his heart skip a beat. He clutched the charred grass as it approached. ItÕs bright, glowing green made him squint, but he wouldnÕt take his eyes off of it.
  It was a UFO.
  It was all he had ever wanted.
  The circular object flew until it was positioned directly above him. Mulder stared into the object, immediately jumping to his feet. No way was this a weather balloon. There was no way.
  The whirring and humming soothed Mulder as a small hatch opened in the bottom. He winced as an even brighter light, this one white, surrounded him. He through his hand above his eyes, still staring in awe.
  It was more than worth the wait. The light engulfed him, nearly swallowing him whole. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, smiling to no one in particular. The light began pulling at him, slowly. He didnÕt fight. His feet left the ground and he slowly was picked up into the bright light.
  ÒSee, Samantha,Ó he smiled, approaching the opened hatch.
  ÒI knew someday IÕd find you.Ó

******************************************************************************

Epilogue

ONE WEEK LATER

Dana ScullyÕs Apartment
Washington, D.C.
11:21 PM

  Scully tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. The bed wasnÕt the problem, though, and Scully knew it. Slowly, she sat up, turning on the small lamp next to her bed. She rolled her head in a circular motion, and sighed a heavy sigh.
  Scully had tried everything. She had tried reading, but it hadnÕt helped. She had tried counting sheep, but stopped counting them as the 300th one passed. She had tried a late night rerun of ÒMystery Science Theater 3000Ó, and still nothing. It was no use.
  Her mind was stuck on him.
  Agent Dana Scully had lost the best friend she had ever had. She stayed in Minneapolis, where Mulder had disappeared, for 48 hours, looking for him every passing minute. When he hadnÕt shown up, though, she feared the worst. And she blamed herself for rejecting him.
  Dana, she though to herself. You should have stayed longer. You should have looked harder. ItÕs all your fault. ItÕs all your fault.
  Slowly, she got out of bed. She knelt down next to the window and stared at the stars. Her mind drifted back to him, as a soft tear began to roll down her cheek. She brought her fingers up and slowly wiped it away.
  She sat for what seemed like an eternity. How could she have lost the best friend she had ever had? And even worse...
  How could she have slipped on that one kiss?
  She shook her head, stood up, and walked back to bed.

* * * *

  Byers and Frohike huddled above Langly as he picked over and over at the substance with a sharp instrument.
  They had been working day in and day out on this green liquid crap that Mulder had found. They hadnÕt heard from him, so they assumed he was still working on the case in Minneapolis. Langly shook his head as he removed the tool. ÒMan,Ó he said. ÒThis is some weird crap. First itÕs like a liquid, then you hit it with something and it turns into Jello. Strangest thing IÕve worked with. Strangest thing IÕve ever seen.Ó Frohike nodded and walked away.
  Langly continued talking to no one in particular. ÒItÕs almost as if...Ó Byers squinted, waiting for Langly to continue.
  ÒItÕs almost as if itÕs... alive.Ó
  Langly went back to work.

* * * *

   Mulder had felt the presence in the room for a while, now, but he was too woozy to see.
  A bright, white light shine all around him, still too bright to bear with his eyes closed. He squirmed a little, but found himself strapped to the table he was laying on. He shook his head back and forth, but was calmed by a warm, clammy hand placed up his head. He instantly relaxed.
  And then, there was the needle.
  Mulder screamed in pain, and then there was abrupt silence. He shook his head. Oh, how he wanted to see...! But it didnÕt matter. He already knew what was happening.
  They were testing.
  Mulder smiled, and whispered, ÒSamantha...Ó as the next needle was stabbed into his arm.

* * * *

  Mulder sighed with relief and stood up. It was Scully. He walked over towards her.
  ÒScully,Ó he smiled. ÒWhat are you doing here? And... and howÕd you...?Ó
  Scully interrupted with a beaming smile. ÒShh.Ó she whispered. She walked up closer. MulderÕs heart began to race. She pressed herself against him and brushed her lips against his. Mulder smiled. He turned his head to kiss her and...

* * * *

  Scully awoke. She looked around the room.
  ÒDana,Ó she said to herself. ÒWhen you finally do get to sleep, you wake yourself up by dreaming MulderÕs dream!Ó  Slowly, she stood up. She looked at the clock. 3:02 am. She only had two more hours before she would have to report to work anyway. She stretched her arms above her head, but suddenly felt uneasy.
  Glancing outside, she noticed a dark silhouette creeping around to the front of the apartment. Suddenly, Scully became alert. She glanced around, looking for her gun. It was somewhere around... but where?!
  There wasnÕt any time to answer that question. The door flew open with a deafening crash. Scully didnÕt know what to do. She glanced around, not able to move. A man in a dark coat entered her bedroom.
  With the swing of his arm, his hand was wrapped firmly around her wrist. She tried to fight, but a slap across the face from the other hand stopped her. The man pulled her out the front door and into the cool, night air.
  Scully couldnÕt find the strength to fight as the man pulled her around the corner of the apartment and into a dark alley. He threw her up against the cold, brick wall. She winced in pain as her head cracked against the brick, but she didnÕt say a thing.
  From inside the dark coat, he slowly exposed a .44. ScullyÕs eyes quickly widened. But she didnÕt move. Her body began to tremble as the man slowly, probably for dramatic effect, brought the gun to her skull.
  ÒYouÕve seen too much,Ó said the man.
  Scully swore she knew that voice...! Scully brought her eyes to him. ÒW-What...?Ó she asked, nervous.
  The man shook his head as he spoke. ÒThe charred grass, the green substance, everything. You KNOW too much.Ó Scully shook head as if to protest, but was silenced by the manÕs voice. God, where had she heard his voice?
  ÒThatÕs the last thing youÕll ever see.Ó
  Time stood still as the dark, hidden man slowly prepared to pull the trigger.
  A soft, lone tear ran down ScullyÕs cheek. ÒMulder,Ó she though out loud. ÒIÕll be with you again... soon.Ó
  She winced, and braced herself for the worst...

* * * *
  
  The cancer man paced back and forth in his office.
  Had he done the right thing? Maybe Scully hadnÕt seen anything, and there was no reason to send... *him*... after her.
  And what about Mulder?
  Should he have told her?
  The cigarette smoking man sighed a deep, heavy sigh, then sat back down in his comfortable, smoky chair. He pulled out a smooth, white Morley from his pocket.
  Well, at least he still had his *true* friends...

* * * *

SHATTERED


Prologue

Near Dana ScullyÕs Apartment
Washington, D.C.
4:03 AM
  
  The voice was so familiar.
  Dana Scully braced herself against the cold, brick wall as she stared at the stranger. The .44 was point blank from her skull. One shot...
  God, where had she heard his voice?
  The hidden man trembled as he prepared to shoot. His finger shook as it began pulling back on the trigger. He listened as Scully winced, ÒMulder, IÕll be with you again... soon.Ó Mulder? What did she know about MulderÕs whereabouts?
  Startled by what Scully had whimpered, he let his guard down. Only for a second. It was then, in that second, that the tables turned. Everything changed in the blink of an eye.
  Scully had sensed that if she was going to make a move and live, now would be the time. Her leg whipped forward with all of her fear and fury, and it collided with her assaulterÕs gut. He gasped for air and dropped to the ground.
  He glanced up, still hidden in the shadows. The kick wasnÕt about to stop him. He didnÕt want to anger the Cancer Man. He brought the gun up again, his false arm creaking, still wheezing. Scully jumped back again, startled by the manÕs determination.
  The man was as startled as Scully when the gunshot rang.
  Scully winced in pain and anger, glancing towards her left shoulder. She could feel the bullet, alien to her body, beginning to do itÕs work. Blood began to spew down her shoulder. And dripped from her nose.
  She brought her hand to her face and wiped the nosebleed away. No, Dana, she thought. DonÕt even start thinking about the tumor. YouÕve gotta keep your wits up now. DonÕt even THINK about the cancer.
  As Scully brought her hand down, another shot rang. She winced again, but sighed a silent sigh when she heard the bullet ricochet of the brick behind her. Thoughts of death and pain and... and Mulder rushed through her, but she pushed them down, creating them into anger. And anger that sent her leg forward again.
  Scully wasnÕt sure if the crack that followed was just her imagination or if she had perhaps broken one or two of the attackerÕs ribs.
  She ruled out it being her imagination when the man let out a scream of agony and dropped to the ground, the gun falling out of his possession. Scully snatched it up, her shoulder sending a pain surging throughout her body as she did, and then aimed it at the attackerÕs head.
  ÒDONÕT MOVE!!Ó Scully yelled with all her might. ÒDonÕt make one move!Ó
  The man, still wheezing and panting, looked up into her eyes. She got a clear look at his face. Her eyes widened, her mouth drooped. The voice... it belonged to...
  ÒKrycek?Ó Scully gasped. ÒMy God. KRYCEK?!Ó
  The face was a familiar one, minus the newly grown mustache. His fake arm squeaked a little as he moved it. He winced from the pain in his chest as he said, ÒAgent Scully. ItÕs a pleasure to see you again.Ó
  Blood began to drip from ScullyÕs nose again, and she quickly wiped it away. She ached all over, but wasnÕt about to think about it. ÒWho sent you?Ó she asked, her anger exposing itÕs self in her words.
  Krycek began to get to his feet, but ScullyÕs foot pushed him down. He sighed, then answered the question. ÒScully. YouÕre with the government. You know I couldnÕt expose that information anyway.Ó
  ÒListen, Krycek,Ó Scully spat. ÒThe reason I care is because that person apparently wants me dead. And donÕt give me any crap. YouÕre in NO position to be arguing.Ó
  Krycek snickered. ÒWhat, Scully, do you plan on doing?Ó He winced, finally standing up. ÒKilling me? IsnÕt killing against FBI regulations?Ó
  Scully grimaced. ÒNot if itÕs in self defense!Ó she smiled, as another kick to the chest sent Krycek back to the ground. ÒAnd besides, IÕm guessing I angered Skinner pretty bad... IÕm sure he fired me.Ó
  Krycek was wheezing again, clenching his chest. ÒMan, are youÕre feet made of rock?Ó he said, off subject. ÒAnd youÕre wrong about Skinner. He didnÕt fire you, he went to my boss. ThatÕs why I was put up to this job.Ó
  Scully shook her head, protesting. ÒNo. Because I hung up on Skinner is no reason to kill me. This has something to do with the UFO crash, doesnÕt it?Ó
  Krycek snickered a little, forcing him to cough. He clenched his chest in pain. ÒBut I thought you didnÕt believe in aliens! YouÕre the skeptic, remember?Ó
  Scully opened her mouth to answer, but was stopped when she tasted the blood running down her face. She wiped off the blood, her mind heading back to the tumor.
  Krycek nodded. ÒAh, yes. The cancer,Ó he said, trying to stand up once more. ÒYOUR cancer. ThatÕs your reason for losing your skepticism.Ó Scully shook her head, furious. ÒOr is it something else...? Perhaps... Agent Mul...Ó
  He was stopped by the firing of a gun, dropping back to the ground suddenly. He searched his body frantically for wounds -- none. Scully winced with fury. ÒI missed the first time. Next time, you wonÕt be so lucky.Ó
  Krycek shook his head. ÒThe Cancer Man. He sent me. But you already knew that, didnÕt you? YouÕve known heÕd be after you since you found that green liquid in the field in Minneapolis.Ó
  Scully nodded, slowly. ÒYes. But none of that matters. All that matters now is...Ó
  Ò...Is finding Mulder.Ó Krycek interrupted.
  Scully sighed, then turned towards the night street and ran. She ran, her mind clouded. Krycek knew everything. He was part of it all. And the Cancer Man...! What was so important about that fluid?
  Suddenly, Scully halted. Her mind continued clouding. She turned to the silhouette of the FBI agent she knew so well. He had killed MulderÕs father. More rage shot through her head.
  Alex Krycek finally made it to his feet, relieved. She was gone. He could finally stand up.
  Then, the gunshot.
  Krycek felt the bullet tear into his scapula. He screamed. The scream echoed throughout the dark. He dropped to his knees once again, and his hard breathing and sobbing was only interrupted by Dana ScullyÕs voice.
  ÒItÕs a shame IÕm off FBI duty, huh?Ó

* * * *

  His hearing sense was coming back, along with his sight.
  Fox Mulder lay beneath a beaming, white light, confused. He didnÕt, couldnÕt remember anything since that night he lay helpless before their wrath. How long had he been out? How long had it been since the last time they had used him as their lab rat.
  His thoughts were interrupted by two silhouettes, which surrounded him, engulfed by the bright light. All that could be seen was the thick, gray blurb, scanning over him. It was a frightening image, wrapped with the eerie silence. But the silence was soon broken as one of the beings spoke.
  ÒHo onn as eee binn oww...Ó the voice spat, in a tired voice.
  ÒBow un eeek,Ó said the other, this voice deeper.
  The first voice spoke again. ÒAnn air idd ew ein imm?Ó
  ÒFeil. Blooee an atterd.Ó
  The first one did what appeared to be nod. Then, a small, high pitched beeping noise came. The original voice spoke again. ÒUtt.Ó He paused, and Mulder awaited another voice. Nothing came, though, until the same voice spoke again. ÒI onn eye ayy.Ó
  Mulder fought to listen to more, but his body was tired. He strained and fought, to no avail.
  Then, he passed out.

* * * *

  Frohike hadnÕt slept in days.
  His tired eyes scanned over the green substance once more. Another one to add to the millions of times he had seen it. Langly walked up from behind. The voice startled Frohike. ÒGive it up,Ó Langly said. ÒYouÕll never figure out what it is.Ó
  Frohike shook his head. ÒIt keeps moving around. I donÕt know what it is or...Ó
  Suddenly, he stopped.
  Langly stood, confused, looking over FrohikeÕs shoulder. ÒHey, Frohike,Ó he said, nervous. ÒYou okay?Ó
  Langly brought his head back from the microscope. ÒMy God. Take a look at this.Ó Frohike nodded, then brought his eye down to see.
  The liquid had changed.
  No longer a liquid, but an...
  Frohike backed up, startled. ÒGet Mulder on the phone.Ó Langly nodded, then ran off.
  ÒThis is the proof heÕs been looking for.Ó

* * * *

Near Dana ScullyÕs Apartment
Washington, D.C.
5:59 AM

  The car sped through Washington, D.C., as the night faded to dawn. The streets werenÕt busy. That was bad. Scully could have gotten away quicker and easier, and with hardly any witnesses.
  Finally, the dark car came to a halt, screeching to a stop near the alley by ScullyÕs apartment. An elder man stepped out from the backseat into the darkness that engulfed the man he had hired. His shoes stepped into the puddle of blood, streaming from KrycekÕs shoulder.
  ÒI canÕt believe you failed,Ó the scratchy voice said.
  Alex Krycek turned his head up to view his boss. ÒCancer Man,Ó was all he choked out.
  The cigarette smoking man blew the thick Camel smoke into KrycekÕs face. ÒI canÕt believe you failed,Ó he said as Krycek coughed, removing the cloud of tar from his lungs. ÒSheÕs 70 lbs. lighter, sheÕs shorter, and sheÕs got a tumor. And yet, youÕre the one whoÕs crouched in an alley, dying.Ó
  Krycek was furious, and it took all of his strength to show it. ÒI got a shot off, too. Hit her in the arm. But sheÕs strong. Stronger than you think, even with the tumor. If I didnÕt miss my mark, sheÕll be coming after YOU next. You watch your back, or youÕll be dead.Ó
  The cancer man shook his head. ÒNo, no, Agent Krycek,Ó he said. ÒYouÕre mistaken. Agent Scully would never kill me.Ó He paused, snickering a little. ÒShe wonÕt lay a damn finger on me.Ó
  Krycek nodded. ÒBecause of...Ó
  The Cancer Man interrupted, taking a puff of the cigarette. ÒYeah.
  ÒBecause IÕve got something too important to her.Ó

* * * *

   Scully ran.
  She had been running for what seemed like an eternity, clutching her shoulder, blood streaming from her nose. She had to get far enough away from Krycek and the Cancer Man before that bullet was removed. No matter HOW bad it hurt.
  As she ran, images flew through her head. The encounter with Krycek, the green liquid, her feelings for Mulder. Mulder... God, did she miss him. And at the same time, she hated him.
   For leaving.
   Before she could tell him.
  But none of that mattered anymore. As soon as the piercing bullet was removed, she knew what she had to do. Who she had to face.
   She needed to know the truth, to finally push her skepticism down.
   At all costs.

* * * *

  MulderÕs answering machine picked up the call.
  ÒHello,Ó said MulderÕs familiar voice. ÒThis is Fox Mulder. Leave a message.Ó A small, high pitched beep followed.
  LanglyÕs hysterical voice rushed out from the other line.
  ÒMulder, get your butt down here now! And bring the champagne!Ó He paused.
  ÒWe figured out what the green crap is!Ó

******************************************************************************

Chapter One: What Once Was Lost...

St. JosephÕs Hospital
Washington, D.C.
5:06 PM

  ÒHow does a pretty little girl like you get a bullet in the arm?Ó
  ScullyÕs arm ached with pain. It was a good pain, Scully decided. The bullet had been lodged inside for almost twelve hours before she finally had it removed.
  Scully smiled up at the elder nurse, who was busy wrapping gauze around the wound in ScullyÕs shoulder. ÒItÕs a long story,Ó was the answer Scully chose. ÒI donÕt want to bore you with it. So, am I ready to go yet?Ó
  The gauze was cut and taped down. ÒWhy, arenÕt we impatient...!Ó laughed the nurse. ÒDoes leaving so soon have anything to do with this ÔboringÕ long story?Ó
  ÒYes,Ó Scully hesitantly confessed.
  The nurse smiled. ÒApparently itÕs not such a boring story at all, Dr. Scully!Ó she exclaimed. ÒBut, yes, you can leave whenever you feel like it. Just take a few aspirin, and keep it easy when using that arm, okay?Ó
  Scully nodded. ÒThanks,Ó she smiled, standing up and walking to the door.
  Her mind continued to race, as it had hours before, as she approached the elevator. Mulder, Krycek, the Cancer Man; everything was connected somehow. She was sure of that.
   It was how they were connected she didnÕt have a clue about.
  Scully thought about Agent Skinner as the elevator began to descend. Krycek had used Skinner as an excuse to fire a .44 at her, but she was sure that wasnÕt the only reason. The green liquid had something to do with it.
  But what?
  ÒGod, Dana,Ó she thought aloud. ÒYouÕre mindÕs just one rollercoaster ride after another.Ó
  Scully exited the elevator and walked outside. An gloomy overcast hung above her head. She glanced around before finally hailing a taxi with her good arm. Her mind had slowed down. That was good.
  But what to do about the situation, she didnÕt know.
  She sat down in the musty car as the driver turned back to her. ÒWhere to?Ó he asked, with a Mexican accent.
  Ò39th Avenue, north,Ó she said. The driver nodded and began the journey.
  First, sheÕd head home.
  Then...
  ... Then it would be time.

* * * *

  ÒDrriinkk thissss, Missste Mulller.Ó
  Fox MulderÕs eyesight was finally returning at a rapid rate, and his hearing sense was coming even more quick. His ears were now able to make out words. Maybe finally, after lying here for God knowÕs how long, he could find out where, or why, THEY had taken him.
  The raspy voice continued. ÒIt willll helllll youuu seeee.Ó
  Mulder continued squinting, making out colors on the figure above. The face was a tan color, the color of human flesh. Beneath the neck, something long and red hung down, engulfed in a large gray mass, which made up the rest of the creatureÕs body. Mulder shook his head and squinted harder, straining to discover details.
  Suddenly, Mulder felt the grip of itÕs hand on his face. It opened his mouth, and a soothing, cold liquid streamed down his throat. Cool, but bitter. Mulder fought to spit the horrid taste out, but was blocked by more of the same liquid entering his mouth. He winced as he swallowed.
  The voice did what Mulder thought was a small laugh. ÒResssss assuuuuuured, Agennnnn Mulller,Ó it said. ÒYouuuuuuull beee uppp onn yerrrr feeeet inn noo tiime.Ó
  Mulder slept.

* * * *

Dana ScullyÕs Apartment
Washington, D.C.
5:41 PM

  Skinner stood in front of ScullyÕs apartment, pounding on the door. ÒScully!Ó he yelled, his powerful fist slamming once more to the doors wooden surface. ÒScully! Open the door!Ó
  Dana Scully was unaware her former FBI Agent Director would be standing at her front door as she pulled up in the cab. Her mind began swelling again, filling with the anger that she felt. It was HIS fault that the X-Files were canceled out, making it his fault that Mulder had been furious and run off. It was all because of him.
  Scully handed the cab driver a wad of dollar bills, then stepped out into the cool capitol air. Her anger raised and raised in each step she took. By the time she reached her front door, all that she was able to mutter was, ÒYOU!Ó
  Walter Skinner spun around, surprised. ÒScully,Ó he said to the troubled woman. ÒScully, I need...Ó
  Scully promptly interrupted. ÒYou canceled the X-Files,Ó she spat. ÒI argued with you and was almost killed because of it. Skinner, you got Mulder killed.Ó
  Skinner looked down towards the cement. He sighed heavily, then tried again. ÒScully, you have to understand. It wasnÕt me! The Cancer Man, heÕs pulling my strings... and you know that!!Ó He paused, taking a deep breath. ÒAnd besides, Mul...Ó 
  ÒYEAH! It might have been the Cancer Man, but so what?! Why on earth would he kill me and Mulder?! ItÕs because of how we acted towards you, right?!Ó Scully yelled. Inside, Scully knew this to be wrong, but right now, Skinner was the only one she could point blame at.
  Skinner yelled back, his powerful voice louder than hers. ÒI didnÕt want you KILLED!Ó Skinner spat. ÒI had no idea he was going to try to have you wiped out!! And about Muld...Ó
  ÒLet me inside,Ó Scully interrupted once again. SkinnerÕs face was beet red, obviously furious. Scully tried again. ÒLet me insi...Ó
  She was silenced by SkinnerÕs strong hand, slapping across her face. ÒSCULLY! SHUT UP FOR ONE MOMENT AND LISTEN!!Ó Scully jumped back, breathing heavily from pain and astonishment. Skinner began talking again. ÒScully, Mulder is ALIVE.Ó
  Scully just stared.
  Skinner stared right back.

* * * *

  ÒGeez, Mulder,Ó Langly spat. ÒPick up the stupid phone.Ó
  With a heavy sigh, Langly put the phone back on the receiver. He clenched his fist, then slammed it down to the table. Why wouldnÕt Mulder call back?!
  Byers walked over from across the room. ÒStill no luck?Ó he asked his troubled friend. The response he got was a mere shaking of LanglyÕs head. Byers nodded to himself as he said, ÒWell, keep trying, Langly. YouÕre bound to get a hold of him sooner or later.Ó
  Another dark sigh from Langly was all Byers got as he walked back to the microscope.
  Langly began talking to himself in an act of frustration. ÒGod, MulderÕs gonna miss the whole show!Ó He scooted over on his desk chair to the microscope where Frohike and Byers stood, watching in awe. Langly put his eye to magnifier.
  ÒGeez,Ó Frohike said to no one in particular. ÒItÕs growing even faster. YouÕd better get a hold of Mulder soon. He wonÕt want to miss this.Ó Langly nodded, pulling his head away. All three were silent.
  Byers was the one to break that silence. ÒHey, Langly,Ó he said, a glint of hope in his eye. Langly looked up at him.
  ÒHave you tried Scully yet?Ó

* * * *

5:49 PM

  Ò...So the Cancer Man sent Krycek after you?Ó  Skinner sat in ScullyÕs apartment, sipping on a cup on warm coffee. Scully paced back and forth repeatedly in front of him. ÒYeah,Ó Scully finally answered. ÒOur dear pal Krycek.Ó Skinner just shook his head. Suddenly, Scully changed the subject. ÒHow do you know Mulder is alive?Ó
  Skinner sighed, then began his story. ÒLast week when you got so angry over the phone, I knew something was wrong,Ó he said. ÒI reported it to the Cigarette Man, who promptly fired me for Ônot keeping track of youÕ.
  ÒI decided IÕd find out what was wrong myself, so I headed to Minneapolis.Ó He paused, taking a deep sip of his coffee. ÒI searched your motel rooms, but nothing came up. I was about to leave, and then I decided to check out the ÔUFOÕ crash sight.Ó
  Scully sat down, intrigued. ÒAnd thatÕs where you found Mulder?Ó
  Skinner nodded. ÒGood thing I did, too, Scully. Mulder had been nearly torn apart. He had some pretty bad wounds, and I did the only logical thing.Ó
  ÒWhat?Ó Scully asked, fluttered. ÒSkinner, where is Mulder?Ó Skinner shook his head, looking to the floor. Scully tried again. ÒSkinner, tell me where Mulder is.Ó
  SkinnerÕs eyes raised to meet herÕs. ÒI took him to the Cancer Man.Ó ScullyÕs eyes widened. She was speechless. Skinner continued. ÒI took him to the Cancer Man. And because I did that, I got my job back.Ó
  Scully could only stare.
  Time seemed to stand still. An ear piercing silence filled the atmosphere of ScullyÕs apartment. Skinner and Scully stared, both deeply confused. The silence was suddenly disturbed, though, with the wringing of ScullyÕs telephone.
  Scully jumped, surprised by the sudden noise. She quickly stood up and grabbed the phone, fleeing the agitating scene with Skinner. ÒScully,Ó she answered, her voice very nervous.
  LanglyÕs voice exploded through the receiver, obviously excited. ÒSCULLY! Ha ha!Ó he near shouted. ÒOh, man! Are we glad to get a hold of you!!Ó
  ÒSettle down, Langly,Ó Scully said, trying to calm him.
  ÒScully, get yourself down here... NOW. And bring Mulder.Ó  Scully tried again. ÒLangly, MulderÕs not here. HeÕs... *missing*.Ó Her voice became stone cold as she said that last word. Skinner cringed in the corner. Scully finished, ÒWhatÕs the big deal, anyway?Ó
  Langly was nearly a wreck, his voice almost a scream, as he said:  ÒScully, we figured out what that green crap is!Ó
  Scully nearly dropped the phone.

******************************************************************************

Chapter Two: Encounter

The Lone GunmenÕs ÒHideawayÓ
5:52 PM

  LanglyÕs chair scooted across the room, telephone in hand. ÒScully, we figured out what that green crap is!Ó he exclaimed, dipping his eye to the microscope once more.
  There was no response from the other line.
  ÒScully?Ó Langly asked. ÒDid you hear me? I said, we know what it...Ó
  ÒI heard you,Ó ScullyÕs voice interrupted.
  Langly pulled the microscope away, staring at the cluster of green liquid with his naked eye. He could see all of the little particles without the microscope! They had doubled in size in almost an hour! It was growing like...
  ÒLANGLY!Ó
  Langly snapped out of his trance. ÒH-huh?Ó he stuttered.

* * * *

Dana ScullyÕs Apartment
same time

  ÒI said, what exactly is it?Ó
  Agent Dana ScullyÕs eyes were wide, her jaw nearly on the ground, and Walter Skinner was puzzled by the exasperated look. She paced about her apartment, more quick than she had just a moment ago when talking to Skinner about her partnerÕs disappearance. LanglyÕs voice came from the phone.
  ÒWell, Scully,Ó his voice said, glee shining through. ÒI guarantee youÕve NEVER seen anything like it, even with your medical practice. ItÕs some kind of life form and itÕs growing faster than hell. I give it a day or two, TOPS, before itÕs fully grown.Ó
  Scully stopped pacing. ÒW-what kind of life form?Ó she choked.
  Langly laughed. ÒWell,Ó he smiled. ÒLetÕs just say this might prove MulderÕs beliefs. ItÕs nothing that came from THIS earth.Ó
  Scully kept the same blank expression on her face. ÒThat could explain why Krycek tried to kill me...Ó she stammered, but quickly caught herself. ÒNo, wait a minute! What am I talking about? It canÕt be an alien!Ó
  ÒWhy?Ó question Langly. ÒWhat makes you so sure that this isnÕt an E.B.E., huh? Scully, think about it -- about all youÕve seen, about all of the cover ups that youÕve bought... itÕs time to wake up.Ó
  ÒNo,Ó Scully spat, frustrated. ÒItÕs not. Because I know IÕm right. IÕll bet my life on it.Ó
  ÒOne look at THIS,Ó Langly said, referring to the growing green liquid, Òand youÕd change your mind.
  ÒJust get down here soon,Ó Langly said, sternly. ÒI donÕt want you... or Mulder, for that matter... to miss the show.Ó
  Scully opened her mouth to dispute, but a dial tone was all she heard. She shook her head, thinking aloud, ÒGrowing life form?Ó
  Skinner had kept quiet long enough. He interrupted her train of thought, speaking. ÒScully?Ó he asked. ÒWhat was that all about? And whoÕs Langly?Ó
  Scully spun around to face her former director. Her voice came prompt, swift, and stern. ÒGet up,Ó she spat. Skinner jumped up. There was no way he was going to argue with an agent who could take a bullet in the arm and run for twelve hours. Scully finished, grabbing her gun.
  ÒWeÕve got someone to talk to.Ó

* * * *

Federal Bureau of Investigation Medical Wing
6:27 PM

  It was a very bright light.
  That was the first thought that crossed MulderÕs mind as he opened his un-dilated eyes.
  Agent Fox Mulder awoke after heaven knowÕs how long, and noticed the cramps and pains immediately. Slowly, he rose to a sitting position, grunting the entire way up. He winced as he attempted to look around with his stiff neck. For the first time, he would see *THEM*. He would see the inside of a UFO. He would...
  Cold realization struck Mulder with an astounding force. He looked around, all the pain suddenly disappearing from his body.
  What on earth was he doing in a hospital bed?
  Emphasis on ÒearthÓ.
  It was true, Mulder recognized everything. It was the same sight he would see in any hospital ever. The same plain, tiled walls. The same tight, enclosed walls. The same completely and utterly uncomfortable ÒbedÓ.
  ÒBut I...Ó Mulder began to say aloud, then stopping. No, he thought. This isnÕt right. He remembered in vivid detail that night in Minneapolis. He remembered staring into the vortex which would surely be his undoing -- the alien craft. He remembered his ascension, the cold breeze streaming through his thick hair. It was all so clear, so wonderful and frightening at the same time.
  But this...? A hospital?
  ÒAhh, Mr. Mulder,Ó came a sudden and familiar voice from behind.
  Mulder spun his head rapidly, once again wincing from the pain. He found himself staring into the same cold face he had seen so many times. The face that was responsible for all of his pain. The face...
  ...of the Cigarette Smoking Man.
  Mulder dropped his feet out of the bed on on to the icy floor. Pushing with all of his might, working his stiff and tired muscles to their maximum, he finally found his way to the standing position. But not for long. His feet suddenly slipped from under him. Using his quick reflexes, he grabbed on to the bed as he fell, keeping himself from hitting the floor. ÒYou,Ó he hissed, his confusion building. How could the Cancer Man be here...?
  ÒMr. Mulder,Ó the Cancer Man smiled. ÒYouÕre a very sick man. Just lie back down and relax, and weÕll get you something nice to ea...Ó
  ÒHow...?Ó Mulder interrupted, once again pushing himself to his feet, this time maintaining his balance. ÒHow could you be here? They took me, but IÕm here...?Ó
  The elder man shrugged a very small and simple shrug. ÒYes, youÕre ÔhereÕ,Ó the Cancer Man stated. ÒIf ÔhereÕ is Washington, D.C. More specifically, the medical wing of the Bureau, in Washington, D.C.Ó
  Mulder tried to walk in his fury, but his feet still wouldnÕt take it. Another slip, but this time Mulder was ready, catching himself more rapidly. ÒThis isnÕt right...Ó Mulder said, straining himself to stand up once more. ÒIÕm not here. I *CANÕT* be here...Ó
  The Cancer Man dropped his smoke, snuffing it out with his toe. ÒMr. Mulder,Ó he squinted. ÒYour questions arenÕt adding up. ÔWhy am I here?Õ ÔHow could you be hereÕ? Mulder, where exactly do YOU think you are?Ó
  Mulder tried once more to take a step. This time, it stuck. But he didnÕt care. His mind was still too angry. ÒDonÕt give me this bull,Ó Mulder spat. ÒYouÕve been covering them up forever. And now I know for sure.Ó He took another step. Another victory. ÒI know because I saw it with my own eyes. I felt them take me away. I sensed their presence.
  ÒYou know I was up there as well as I do,Ó Mulder spat, squinting. ÒJust like Samantha. IÕm just like her...Ó Another step. Ò...because they took me away.Ó
  The Cancer Man sighed heavily, taking out another Morley and lighting it. ÒMr. Mulder,Ó he shook his head, puffing out the deep tar cloud. ÒYouÕve been unconscious for a week. Look at you! YouÕre walking like a child, taking your first steps! And surely, while you were sleeping, you were having dreams. Now if youÕd please lay down, weÕll...Ó
  Mulder interrupted, taking another step. ÒYou...Ó he glared. ÒYou make it sound so believable, like you really do care about me and about the other thousands of victims.Ó Another step. Mulder was only a few feet from the Cancer Man now. Close enough to break his jaw. But Mulder didnÕt resort to violence. He continued.
  ÒWhat was the big deal about the downed alien craft in Minneapolis? Huh?Ó Mulder spat. ÒIt wasnÕt any more different than all of the other cases Scully and I have covered!Ó Scully! Was she all right? No, what did it matter. She had nearly shooed Mulder away after that kiss...
  ÒThat UFO crash wasnÕt any different!Ó Another step. Mulder began to feel the hatred boiling in him. ÒAnd yet, during this one, we got too close! So you shut us down. You take away anything and everything thatÕs ever been important to me.
  ÒAnd you figure you can still feed everyone line after line,Ó Mulder said, his voice becoming cold. ÒAnd you hope they all buy it. But we donÕt. We donÕt believe any of the crap you try to give us. ÔIt was a weather balloon,Õ or, ÔYouÕre hallucinating.Õ But I know what IÕve seen is real. Your lies are nothing to me.
  ÒAnd neither are you.Ó
  Mulder was breathing heavy, noticing the sweat dripping down his brow. The Cancer Man was obviously startled by MulderÕs sudden outburst. ÒMr. Mulder,Ó he sighed. ÒYouÕve been a thorn in my foot for too long.Ó
  Mulder was thinking the same thoughts as the elder man. What were they going to do about Mulder? He knew he was right. He knew what he had seen was real. What was there to do except...
  Mulder couldnÕt react in time. The Cancer ManÕs hand flew into the dark, brown trenchcoat he was wearing. Slowly, he exposed a .90 caliber pistol. MulderÕs heart began to race, but he would not let it show.
  Mulder stood, still breathing hard, as the gun was raised and put point blank next to his forehead. Mulder smiled as he thought aloud, scared out of his mind. ÒMurder,Ó Mulder smiled. ÒThe ultimate coverup.Ó
  In a moment, it would all be over.
  Mulder winced.

* * * *

6:29 PM

  Scully stepped out of the yellow cab, with Skinner right behind her. ÒScully,Ó he asked. ÒWhatÕs going on? Why did we come here?Ó
  They stood in front of the building in which they had devoted their lives to the government. The Bureau. It looked the same as it always had in the rapidly dimming sky. Scully turned to Skinner, glaring. ÒYou said you brought Mulder to the Cancer Man?Ó Scully asked. Skinner nodded. ÒWell, weÕve come to get him back.
  ÒI want to show him something.Ó
  Slowly, Scully and Skinner approached the building.
  And unaware to Skinner, Scully was cradling a .44.

* * * *

  6:31 PM

  ÒGod in Heaven,Ó Frohike spat over LanglyÕs shoulder.
  The three Lone Gunmen hovered around what had once been a green liquid. Byers turned to Langly. ÒYou did call Scully and Mulder...?Ó he asked. Langly nodded, then turned his attention back to...
  ...To eggs?
  The liquid had grown into a batch of transparent eggs, unlike any that the Gunmen had ever seen. Inside, small lifeforms could be seen, growing at a rapid rate. Langly broke the eerie silence that engulfed them. ÒMaybe this is a way of keeping the species alive. Maybe whatever that green liquid was ensures a new generation will form.Ó
  ÒWho on earth cares?Ó Frohike spat. ÒLook at this! WeÕve got aliens growing in our lab!Ó
  The three laughed, cheering with glee. They patted each other on the back, more excited than they had ever been.
  Then, the crash.
  All three immediately stopped, spinning around. Behind them, a figure hidden the dark stood. He was a brooding silhouette, and it seemed as if he was growing darker as he approached them. His voice boomed through the lab.
  ÒIÕve come for the eggs. Cooperate...
  Ò...and I wonÕt take your lives, too.Ó

******************************************************************************

Chapter Three: Downhill

Federal Bureau of Investigation Medical Wing
6:32 PM

  MulderÕs smile still donned his face. ÒMurder,Ó he grimaced. ÒThe ultimate coverup.Ó
  The Cancer Man would have been weaker and easily overpowered if Mulder had his full strength. But after waking up after a week of being unconscious, his muscles were tight and cramped, making it impossible to throw the .90 caliber pistol aimed at his skull to the ground.
  He heard the gun being cocked; wincing, knowing that in a second his life and his secret would both be bleeding from a bullet wound in the skull. He could almost feel the Cancer ManÕs anger and fear as his finger began to squeeze the trigger...
  ÒFREEZE!Ó
  Both Mulder and the Cancer Man glanced to the doorway of MulderÕs hospital room. There, tightly gripping a gun, Agent Dana Scully stood, with the Assistant Director of Resources Walter Skinner standing behind her. Everyone but Scully was taken agahst by her sudden outburst.
  The Cancer Man was the first to notice the bullet wound to the shoulder, as well as the small stream of blood trickling down ScullyÕs lip. Scully noticed the blood next. ÔNo, no, NO! Not now!Õ, she thought, wiping the blood away. The Cancer Man smiled as he lowered the gun. ÒWhy, Agent Scully,Ó he snickered, pulling out another cigarette. ÒWhat a pleasant surprise.Ó
  ScullyÕs pressure, everything she had seen from working for years with Spooky, had finally taken itÕs toll on her, and she knew exactly who to aim it at. ÒDonÕt give me any crap,Ó Scully spat. ÒI want to know what has been going on, and I want to know NOW.Ó
  Mulder smiled. God, did she have guts. It wasnÕt any wonder he was so in lo...
  The Cancer Man broke MulderÕs train of thought, and once again the gun was at MulderÕs head. The elder man shook his head, squinting through his own smoke. ÒAgent Scully, youÕve been worried to death about THIS,Ó he said, gesturing to Mulder. ÒAnd I have an idea that you want him back. So put the gun down, and heÕs yours.Ó
  Scully clenched the gun tighter. Did she want to risk Mulder...? No, not at all. She had worried too much and too long for him. But she stood her ground. ÒI want Mulder,Ó she spat. ÒAnd I need the truth.Ó
  ÒDoctor Scully,Ó the Cigarette Smoking Man said. ÒWhat do you need with the truth?Ó
  ÒRight now,Ó she nearly yelled. ÒI have three people who say theyÕve discovered an unknown life form in a pile of green liquid I collected from the ÔcrashÕ sight in Minneapolis. Is it an alien?Ó
  ÒAhh, Scully. I thought you were the skeptic,Ó the elder man smiled.
  ÒIS IT A D*MN ALIEN?!Ó Scully yelled, obviously losing her edge.
  Skinner held back. There was no way he was going to get involved in this. At least, not until one of the two partners had died.
  The Cancer Man shook his head, almost looking like he was disappointed. ÒAgent Scully,Ó he muttered, ÒYou ask me to tell you what I know. You ask me to give you your ex-partner. I, in return, I get nothing. Nothing. Well, that... that just isnÕt right.Ó
  He cocked the pistol again, and Mulder heard it loud and clear. The Cancer Man grabbed MulderÕs head by the hair and threw the gun to it. ÒNow,Ó the elder man snickered. ÒYouÕre faced with a decision. WhatÕs more important? The truth?Ó He shook Mulder, pulling the hair tighter. ÒOr Mulder?Ó
  MulderÕs beaming eyes stared back into ScullyÕs. God, she needed him. And she needed the truth.
  She had no idea what to do.

* * * *

  The chair came down upon ByersÕs head hard, and he fell to the ground, moaning in pain.
  It hadnÕt been a memorable fight for the Lone Gunmen. The stranger in the dark coat hadn't looked as strong when he first arrived at their now un-secretive lab. He had bellowed, ÒIÕve come for the eggs. Cooperate... and I wonÕt take your lives, too.Ó
  Frohike had been the first to attack. He ran up no later than the instant the words left the assaulterÕs lips, yelling menacingly as he approached. He jumped, slamming his fist down hard into the manÕs shoulder.
  Unfortunately, his fist didnÕt effect the stranger as much as Frohike had hoped.
  The assaulterÕs fist was different, though. Harder. Tighter. And it hurt a  lot more as it found itÕs way across FrohikeÕs cheek. He had tasted blood before the fist had even left his face. And he had dropped to the ground, leaving it up to the other two Gunmen.
  Langly had been startled. ÒYou could have killed him!!Ó he yelled.
  The man drew nearer, exposing a mustache on his younger face. ÒGive me the eggs,Ó he demanded.
  Langly attacked next. His fight, too, was less than successful. And what seemed merely the instant he had begun his attack, he joined Frohike in the corner, bleeding. The younger man drew nearer to the prize that he had come for, and Byers tried to hold his ground. Unfortunately, the large, gliding chair had been brushing against the attackerÕs side, and it came down HARD on Byers.
  The small batch of eggs lay unguarded. Slowly, the hidden man took out a lighter. The eggs burned quicker than the Gunmen could have hoped, sending an unpleasant stench into the air. The man proceeded in setting fire to the papers scattered across the desktop, grinning like a kid who found daddyÕs gun the whole time.
  After what seemed like an eternity, his tiresome job was done. Or so the Gunmen thought. He walked over to the three men, who had tucked themselves in a corner, trying to let their pain cool off. Frohike looked up to the man. ÒYouÕve destroyed our evidence. YouÕve defeated us. What more do you want?Ó
  Frohike wished he hadnÕt asked, as the small needle was exposed.  ÒYour memory,Ó the man snickered.
  The last thing Frohike saw was the small needle nearing his ear. It was a sharp, tight pain that followed. Then, everything went black.

* * * *

6:34 PM

  Dana Scully stood her ground, the gun aimed directly at the Cancer ManÕs skull, staring her partner into the eyes. MulderÕs look of terror, his look for help, was enough to drive her over the edge. She opened her mouth to speak, to tell the Cancer Man that Mulder was more important than the truth.
  It was then that she tasted the blood running down her lip.
  Was the truth more important? Maybe be exposing the truth, sheÕd be able to be the sole survivor of the abducted women. Abducted? No, Dana, she thought. Now youÕre starting to SOUND like Mulder! You NEED him!
  And you NEED the truth.
  ÒI grow tired of waiting, Scully,Ó the Cancer Man said, breaking the silence. ÒWhen I reach ÔthreeÕ, have a decision made, or IÕll make the decision for you.Ó He clenched MulderÕs hair tighter. ÒOne.Ó
  Mulder will die, Dana.
  And so will you, if you donÕt get the truth.
  ÒTwo.Ó
  Think, Dana, THINK! Mulder will be dead in a second!!
  But you need to know!!
  ÒScully, what is your answer?Ó
  Mulder!
  The truth!
  Oh...!
  The Cancer Man sighed, cocking the .90. ÒWell, Mr. Mulder,Ó he snickered. ÒYouÕll be with your family again shortly.Ó He clenched the trigger. ÒFather...Ó Mulder winced his eyes. ÒAnd little Samanth...Ó
  ÒSTOP!!!!Ó
  ScullyÕs scream was earth shattering. All three of the others in the room jumped, turning to face her. She was panting with frustration, and her eyes were squinted tight. ÒLet him go,Ó she spat at the elder man. ÒLet Mulder go.Ó
  Skinner let out a sigh of relief from behind.
  The Cigarette Smoking Man smiled, uncocking the gun and slipping it away. ÒWise choice, Agent Scully,Ó he smiled, releasing MulderÕs head, who promptly ran to Scully. ÒBut I didnÕt doubt that you would chose Mulder in the end for a second. After all, the power of love is much stronger than curiosity.Ó
  But Scully and Mulder werenÕt listening.
  Scully was wrapped tightly in MulderÕs arms, her eyes shut tightly, their lips pressed together. They stood there, wrapped in their delight, smiling deep down inside. This is what the both wanted.
  This is what they both needed.
  Each other.

* * * *

6:51 PM

  Mulder had been sent to another hospital immediately afterword, to get the rest and medical attention he needed. Scully stood in a familiar hallway of the Bureau in which she had devoted her life to. She didnÕt notice as Skinner approached from behind. Her mind was too busy right now.
  ÒScully,Ó Skinner began. Scully jumped, startled. Skinner drew nearer. ÒThat was a nice piece of work back there. YouÕre a lot tougher than I thought.Ó He paused. ÒAnd a lot smarter.Ó
  Scully knew what he meant, and she smiled back at him. She turned to face her FBI Director and smiled. ÒSkinner, thank you,Ó she said with a sigh. ÒI owe you a lot. For helping me, for telling me the truth, for being there when...Ó
  Ò...When Mulder wasnÕt,Ó Skinner finished.
  Scully smiled a little brighter. ÒYeah,Ó she said, nodding her head.
  Skinner returned the nod. There was an awkward stare between the two, before Skinner finally said, ÒAgent Scully, IÕm going to miss you. Not having you in my section of the Bureau is going to be... different.Ó
  ScullyÕs eyes glanced up into his. She was touched, no doubt. But she didnÕt let it show. Instead, she just said, ÒWho said IÕm not going to work in you sector anymore? Who said IÕm giving up the X-Files?Ó
  SkinnerÕs eyes went wide by the sudden remark from Scully. ÒWell, the Cancer Man, for one. He reassigned you and Mulder, as well as shut down the X-Files, remember?Ó
  Scully nodded. ÒYeah,Ó she smiled. ÒHe may have. But I have to talk to him.
  ÒAfter all, we still need to discuss the rest of the deal. Mulder or the truth was completely unfair.Ó
  ÒAnd if he doesnÕt let you argue...?Ó Skinner asked.
  Scully stepped up on her tip toes and whispered into his ear.
  ÒIÕve still got a gun.Ó

******************************************************************************

Epilogue

St. JosephÕs Hospital
Washington, D.C.
7:56 PM

  ÒOver my dead body!Ó
  Dana Scully sat next to her newly reassigned partner, Fox Mulder, with a glint of sadness in her eye. When the Cancer Man had agreed to reopen the X-Files, Scully was ecstatic. But that happiness faded quickly.
  Scully learned that with the Cigarette Smoking Man, there was always a catch. If you thought you had a good deal, heÕd slaughter it. This time was no different. Sure, he had agreed to start the X-Files once more, but he was hellbent to keep Mulder away from them.
  So that was it. Scully could have her X-Files job back, while Mulder kept his reassignment. Mulder was not taking the news well.
  ÒMulder,Ó Scully tried to protest. ÒYou have to understand! The Cancer Man thinks he can pull your strings. He thinks heÕll trick you into quitting if...Ó
  ÒIf thatÕs the case, consider my tricked,Ó Mulder spat, interrupting. Scully sighed, then opened her mouth to speak. But Mulder continued. ÒScully, he doesnÕt THINK he can pull my strings. He KNOWS he can. Because he knows me. It was him who had my dad killed, it was him who almost drove my mom to death, and itÕs him who knows where Samantha is.Ó
  Scully stood up. ÒMulder, stop!Ó she yelled. ÒStop chasing your sister! We both know sheÕs gone! I can feel that in you! And the alien abduction story...Ó
  Ò...is one youÕre starting to believe, Agent Scully,Ó Mulder stopped her.
  Scully stared. It seemed like a stare that lasted forever. What could she say? Mulder knew her better than most. Maybe she was starting to come around. Maybe it was finally time...
  Scully remained hushed.
  All Mulder could do was smile.

* * * *

  The Cancer Man paced his room back and forth.
  His mind wandered back and forth between Scully and Mulder. Was it the right thing to do, reinstate the X-Files without Agent Mulder? He had seen MulderÕs stamina, his ability to pursue, to go against the odds until he found what he was looking for. And the Cancer Man was sure, no matter what happened, no matter if the X-Files were no longer his, Mulder would go after his sister until he found her.
  Of course, it was up to the Cancer Man to HIDE her until...
  Then came the thoughts of Scully. Perhaps he should have told her... about the cancer, he meant. And how the deadline was coming nearer and nearer... she was a good agent. An excellent agent. And if he didnÕt act fast, there would be no way to save her.
  A heavy sigh followed as the Cancer Man sat down, lighting up. God, this was getting too hard. He was developing a heart.
  Well, he thought, inhaling on the cigarette, closing his eyes in ecstasy as he tasted the thick tar. D*mned if you do, and d*mned if you donÕt...

* * * *

  Scully smiled as the familiar sound of FrohikeÕs voice exploded out of the other end of the receiver. ÒUhh... hello?Ó Frohike asked, sounding groggy and tired.
  Scully became instantly worried. ÒYou okay, Frohike?Ó she asked.
  Frohike sighed. ÒYup,Ó he said. ÒJust a little bruised from... somethinÕ. DonÕt really recall what.Ó
  Scully was still concerned, but decided to forget it. Right now, she needed to know about the substance that Langly claimed was ÔgrowingÕ. ÒAnyway, Frohike, listen,Ó she chirped. ÒI need to know exactly what that green liquid is. NOW.Ó
  FrohikeÕs voice came swift and abrupt, like a fist to the gut. ÒGreen liquid? What are you talking about, Scully?Ó
  Scully fell dead silent.
  ÒScully?Ó Frohike asked. ÒScu-u-ully?Ó

* * * *

  Ò... ÔAhÕ and ÔhaÕ. Government conspiracy, eat your heart outÓ
  Mulder lay in bed, grinning up at his partner. ScullyÕs disappointment from the phone call was easily visible on her face. She sighed heavily. Mulder chortled. ÒDonÕt be depressed,Ó he comforted. ÒAfter all, this is only your first UFO dead end. Mine have numbered plenty.Ó
  Scully shook her head. ÒNo, Mulder,Ó she said solemnly. ÒThis isnÕt a coverup. ThereÕs an explanation to everything. We just donÕt know what that explanation is.Ó
  ÒLook at yourself, Dana!Ó he said, nearly shouting. Scully was surprised that he had used her first name. ÒYour still acting as stubborn and skeptical as our first case together!! Think about it -- about all youÕve seen! DonÕt you understand? ItÕs a conspiracy!! ItÕs a scandal! Our entire truth is a fraud!Ó
  ÒMulder!Ó she spat back, almost at the same decibel level. ÒShut up and look at your life! Because youÕre chasing down these ÔconspiraciesÕ and these ÔfraudsÕ, your only true love, the X-Files, have been canceled out! There worried about you chasing your sister and making stupid choices!
  ÒSo maybe the truth is out there. Maybe thatÕs where it should stay. At least that way, youÕll have a job to go to in the morning.Ó
  MulderÕs eyes glanced around the room. He could feel tears swelling. She had found the tender spot, all right. He sighed before he said, ÒThen explain this to me, DOCTOR Scully. Explain why I right now, along with everyone else who thinks theyÕve been an abductee, all have this feeling of weightlessness. IÕve had it since I woke up yesterday. Explain to me why you and all of the other women who say theyÕve been abducted developed tumors. Some coincidence? Scully, explain to me what the hell happened to my sister when I was twelve.Ó
  Scully sat for almost a minute before opening her mouth, but Mulder silenced her before she could speak. ÒYou see?Ó he asked. ÒYou canÕt explain it. Nothing in science can. Only the truth can, Scully. Only the truth.Ó MulderÕs voice was raising; he was obviously choking up. ÒAnd thatÕs all that matters, Scully. The truth. I know it. The Cancer Man knows it. And I think...Ó
  Scully stared, knowing what the next words to come out of his mouth would be.
  ÒI think, SKEPTICAL DOCTOR Scully, that you know it, too.Ó
  Both stayed silent for a while. They both were near tears, but for different reasons. Mulder hated her stubbornness, he hated the fact that he couldnÕt get over her, and he hated the fact that his life was a living disaster. Scully...
  ...She was fearing.
  Fearing her partner was right.
  The long, painful silence was finally broken by MulderÕs voice. ÒIf the Cancer ManÕs going to keep me away, IÕll help him out.Ó From beside the bed, he grabbed his FBI clearance tag and handed to Scully. Her eyes widened. ÒTurn this is for me. I wonÕt need it anymore.Ó
  ÒMulder...Ó Scully tried, but to no avail. Her response from Mulder was cold.
  ÒScully, I love you,Ó he said, rolling away from her beaming eyes. ÒAnd I think if you love me, youÕll see why IÕm doing this.Ó That was true. Scully could see why.
  Mulder was trying to escape.
  ÒNow leave,Ó Mulder finished. ÒTell the Cancer Man IÕll clear out my office tomorrow.Ó
  Scully opened her mouth, but nothing came out. And she knew why.
  Because Mulder was doing the right thing.
  Slowly, she stood up, clenching the badge in the hand on her good arm. The door squeaked open, then quietly closed. She leaned against the wall, cradling the badge, and took everything in. Inside the room, she could be brave.
  Outside, all Dana Scully could do was cry.

* * * *

  Mulder picked up the last cardboard box, recently sealed with the duct tape, and moved it towards the door. His eyes glanced around the musty basement office which he had devoted himself to. God, did it look different.
  And he was going to miss it.
  MulderÕs eyes scanned everything thoroughly, taking one last look at the office which had been his home for years. He was startled when he noticed that he had forgotten to take down his favorite poster. It was almost like it had become part of the office. He began to walk over to itÕs place, but halted.
  For the first time in years, he actually stopped to look over the familiar sight. The UFO hovering in the daylight. The green pines planted solemnly below. And the bold, white print. For the first time in his life, he read it aloud. ÒI want to believe,Ó Mulder winced, surprised to find a tear coming down his cheek.
  Mulder laughed through the tear, wiping it from his face. ÒYeah,Ó he said. ÒI DO want to believe.Ó He sighed, turning his back to the poster, letting it hang where it was. He reached the door and took one last glance to the office and to the poster.
  ÒI want to believe,Ó he said, shaking his head. ÒBut I live in a country where my own government wonÕt allow it.Ó
  Quietly, he pushed the light switch down and closed the door.

* * * *

IN PIECES

Prologue

St. JosephÕs Hospital
Washington, D.C.
3:09 AM

  He had been up all night.
  On the second floor of St. JosephÕs, in a small, cramped room, Fox Mulder sat, cradling the hand of his ex-partner, Dana Scully. Her eyes were closed softly in the dim room. That was good. She needed her rest. She needed to conquer this fiendish cancer.
  THEY needed to conquer it.
  Mulder remembered the instant he had gotten the call. He was rewatching an old news broadcast, one he had taped years ago on a small request from Deep Throat. Since he had quit, he had spent a lot of time thinking.
  The first thing that came to mind was Scully. He dwelled on those thoughts for a while.
  The next thought was the green liquid, the ooze Scully had found near a supposed alien saucer crash sight. It had taken him a while, but he remembered all about Dr. BerubeÕs experiments, about the humans in tanks at the Zeus Warehouse, and how the man he had been chasing, a man named Secare, had bled green. And the shape-changing beings he had encountered later in life. They melted into green puddles.
  There HAD to be a connection.
  So Mulder had reviewed the tape he had recorded. He viewed it on end, looking for something, ANYTHING to go off of. Perhaps he could solve this case, find out what exactly was going on, without government help.
  Mulder had been in about the zillionth time through the tape when his phone rang. He picked it up, and with a tired greeting of, ÒMulder,Ó was given the bad news.
  Scully had been under a lot of stress recently, and her mother had stopped by, only to find her daughter sprawled out on the floor. After being rushed to the hospital, the doctorÕs had said that stress had affected the tumor and...
  Mulder didnÕt like to repear the rest.
  Nevertheless, the doctor had finished. And his words echoed through MulderÕs brain like a scream through a canyon. ÒShe probably only has 24 hours to live... maybe less.Ó
  Only 24 hours to live...
  Only 24 hours to live...
  As he sat there, cradling her cold hand, Mulder felt a tear creep towards his eye. He withheld it.
  ÒScully?Ó

* * * *

  ScullyÕs frustration was of great size, and her feelings for Mulder werenÕt helping. She had just been assigned to a new X-File, this one somewhere in Chicago. Something to do with aliens, she recalled. For some reason, Scully didnÕt really care.
  How could that black-lunged, Morley-smoking devil-in-a-human-form do that to Mulder? Leave him alone in the cold. The Cancer Man had known Mulder would resign from his job the minute the news was given to him. And he was probably smiling about it right now.
  God, she thought. Why am I so dizzy?

* * * *

  Deep ThroatÕs voice echoed through the line. ÒAre you watching channel eight?Ó
  Hidden deep within a dark corridor of the Pentagon building, Deep Throat gave Mulder that one, smart *ss clue before hanging up. He wondered how Mulder put up with it; how the young man could handle being given the smallest lead and taking the biggest chances on it.
  As the receiver clicked, Deep Throat slowly walked through the large storage hallways. Around him, he could see many boxes, knowing what each contained. Alien corpse, that one, he thought, his eyes shooting to a large crate up at the top of the shelf. Implant, that one, his eyes focusing on a box near his head.
  He walked through the long hall he had come to dub as ÒThe Forbidden HallwayÓ, until he reached a small intersection. Veering to the right, he now walked upon millions of file cabinets and such.
  Slowly, Deep Throat exposed the manila envelope from his trench coat pocket. He clenched it tightly as he entered another small hallway, marked MO-MU from a sign posted above.
  The millions of files were what were known as The GovernmentÕs Most Watched files. They had been collected for nearly a century, stored here over the past few years. Many focused on good qualities, people who would pay off. Others were serial killers.
  And then, there were the ones who imposed a danger without knowing.
  Yet.
  Deep Throat finally reached a large file cabinet. He opened it, scanning over many names, until finally coming across what he had been looking for.
  Mulder, Fox W.

* * * *

  Scully paced the living room of her apartment, trying to sort out everything.
  Her mind raced at a thought a minute, from Mulder, to the X-Files, to the green substance, to the cancer, to everything. Frustration filled every inch of her body.
  What do I do about Mulder? Keep him? Or...
  What about this new case? By myself.
  What was that green substance? And why were Frohike, Langly, and Byers almost killed over it?
  What about this cancer?
  GOD, I feel dizzy.

* * * *

  The Cancer Man inhaled deeply on the Morley.
  He had known about his partner all along, contrary to beliefs. His ex-partner, who had come to be known as Deep Throat to Mulder, had been a source of information for almost a year. The Cancer Man had known since day one, but wouldnÕt let it show.
  Still, he didnÕt feel right.
  Sure, ÒDeep ThroatÓ was breaking a lot of rules, exposing the information to another, and he deserved the penalty he was getting. After all, when you break rules at such a high level, someoneÕs bound to get hurt.
  But this WAS his friend...
  The Cancer Man knew the plan. Deep Throat gives the men the package, the men give him a bullet to the chest. Done and done. The Cancer Man nodded at that, to no one in particular.
  And yet, something still wasnÕt right.
  The Cancer Man could sense something.
  What had Deep Throat done that the Cancer Man didnÕt know about?

* * * *

  Scully felt too woozy now.
  Something was obviously wrong. She needed to relax. To calm herself. To let the cancer rest.
  But how could she relax now?! Everything had gone down the drain in the last week! She didnÕt know what to do about Mulder anymore! Or what to think about the green liquid! Or anything! God, how could she relax?
  That was the last thing she remembered.

* * * *

  Mr. ÒXÓ had secluded himself in the dark hallways of the Pentagon building, in the aisle marked MO-MU.
  He and Deep Throat had made a pact only a few months ago. When Deep Throat had learned about Dr. BerubeÕs testing, he and ÒXÓ had met, discussing MulderÕs future. They knew that if Mulder was able to get hold of BerubeÕs documents, or any information, he could blow the top off the entire government cover up.
  But what if Mulder failed?
  Deep Throat and he had decided that the only way to do it was the way they were. As a backup, in case Mulder didnÕt find everything he needed when he went up against Berube. ThatÕs why Deep Throat had hidden what he had.
  ÒXÓ had just come back to check.
  Slowly and quietly, he pulled open the file cabinet, and fingered through them, until finally...
  Mulder, Fox W.

* * * *

  Mulder wrapped ScullyÕs hand tightly.
  Her heart was beating at a constant rate. The loud, high-pitched ÒbeepsÓ coming from a large machine told Mulder this was true. Still, Scully wasnÕt responding to any kind of communication. Mulder choked back another tear.
  ÒScully?Ó he asked. He wasnÕt expecting a response.
  Nothing.
  ÒScully, weÕve been through a lot together. Through thick and thin. WeÕve been cocooned, weÕve been against mutants, weÕve seen things that no one can explain. WeÕve had rough times before.Ó
  Mulder swallowed, feeling another tear coming up. Once again, he withheld it. ÒScully, this is one of those rough times. But weÕve made it through them all before. We can make it through this one.Ó
  He sighed. ÒThe Cancer Man knew something was up with the ÔUFOÕ crash in Minneapolis. I have a feeling it has something to do with your cancer. And I swear on my fatherÕs grave, I am not going to let that black-lunged devil win.Ó
  Another tear choked back. ÒThatÕs why IÕm leaving. I think I know where to find what IÕm looking for. Getting in wonÕt be easy, getting out will be harder. But IÕll make it through it. I wonÕt give up.
  ÒI know the truth is out there, and itÕs close.Ó
  Mulder stood up. Slowly, he bent down and kissed ScullyÕs forehead. He stared at her once more. Slowly, he walked to the door, and as he began to close it, he through one look, perhaps his last, to the dying woman.
  A lone tear hit the ground.
  Mulder closed the door.



*****************************************************************************


Chapter One: In

Outside the Pentagon
Washington, D.C.
12:11 AM

  Slowly and quietly, the figure grabbed the gate.
  On the cold streets of Washington, D.C., a man sat, his features hidden by the black stretch suit he wore. He was a silhouette, creeping around in the night, nothing but. No sound at all. So far, everything was going as he had hoped.
  The black mask hiding his face did itÕs job well. He was completely unrecognizable. He was just a lone stranger, about to become a lone intruder.
  Silently, he pulled himself to the top of the gate. It took all his strength not to make noise, but success came. He glanced around as he lay down, hoping to conceal himself as part of the dark gate to anyone that might be watching. Almost directly below him, a guard stood.
  The man had expected this much. He knew that what he was going to do wouldnÕt keep a zero body count.
  Forgive me, Scully, he thought, pulling out his gun.

* * * *

  Alex Krycek exited the Pentagon, heading towards his car. As he walked, his false arm squeaked a little. He sighed heavily.
  He was surprised to have lived after failing the Cigarette Smoking Man. Surely, he thought, this would be the last time. This is my last chance. Next time, heÕll get rid of more than my arm. And now look at me! IÕm missing one arm, the other is wrapped up from a bullet to the shoulder!
  HeÕd make them pay.
  Every one of them.
  As he entered his car, he thought about Mulder. The Cancer Man said the young agent had up and quit, furious over some new assignment. Krycek liked that. One less danger to the coverups.
  However, they still had Scully, and she had grown strong. Her anger had perhaps forced her to believe what Mulder had been saying all these years. Krycek was reminded of a line from one of his favorite movies, Return of the Jedi. ÒYour anger has made you powerful...Ó
  As he reached the gate, he looked around. There was no guard to open the door for him, no one to clear his exit. Something was wrong...
  Krycek scrambled out of the car, only to nearly trip over a body in front of him. He looked down to examine it. The head of the guard had splattered nearly three feet, and blood was still soaking in. Blood leaked from the guardÕs mouth.
  Krycek looked around. Who would have done something like this? Who would be breaking into the Pentagon? Who would...
  But Krycek already knew.
  He had to get to a phone.
  Fast.

* * * *

  Phase One: Complete.
  Mulder had expected guards. He hadnÕt expected, however, that it would have been that easy. No fight. No muss, no fuss. One clear shot...
  He crept to a tree, nearing the entrance to the building. It, too, was guarded, but more heavily. Three men stood around the door, and two were patrolling nearby. They swung their flashlights about the yard.
  Mulder exposed his gun again. Slowly, he stepped out from behind the tree. He began to sneak towards the side wall, creeping past the guards. No noise, he told himself. No noise whatsoever. None at...
  Too late.
  The guard heard the crunching of MulderÕs foot hitting a stick before Mulder did. He spun around, shining the flashlight a few feet in front of Mulder. Nothing else to do, Mulder dropped to the ground, hoping to blend in with the shadows, and waited.
  The beam of the flashlight approached him, and was soon directly on top of him. IÕm dead, he thought to himself. IÕm dead this time. Spooky got himself in over his head. Mulder knew how easy he could be seen against the green of the grass. He was done for.
  But the beam passed over him.
  MulderÕs eyes went wide. What the...? Why hadnÕt they taken him? Surely they had seen him against his black against the grass! It would have been impossible to miss! Unless...
  ÒHey, Earl!Ó called the voice of a guard in the distance. ÒWhat is it?Ó
  The voice of the closer guard came loud and clear. ÒNothinÕ.Ó
  Mulder knew now.
  It was all set up.
  Someone knew he was coming.
  ÒNothinÕ at all.Ó
  As the beam turned away, Mulder stood up. He didnÕt have much time. HeÕd have to make it in in a hurry.
  The Cancer Man would be coming.

* * * *

Cancer ManÕs Office
Federal Bureau of Investigation Headquarters
12:31 AM

  ÒYou think I was not aware of the situation?Ó
  The Cancer Man inhaled deeply, tasting the smoke that the cigarette contained. Alex KrycekÕs voice, almost a whine, chattered away on the other side. The Cancer Man was beginning to wonder why he had accepted him back after the recent Russian incident.
  ÒBut why arenÕt you here? What is Mulder doing?Ó Krycek asked from his cell phone.
  The Cancer Man sighed deeply. ÒKrycek, Krycek, Krycek,Ó he scolded. ÒDonÕt worry about me. All I want you to make sure of is that Mulder gets in and gets to whereÕs he going. IÕll be there on my own, good time.Ó
  Krycek paused for a minute before stating, ÒAnd if he starts to run? If he starts to get away?Ó
  The Cancer Man snickered, snuffing out the Morley. ÒYou know the drill.Ó

* * * *

  Mulder looked around. He had scaled the wall of the Pentagon without any trouble. Something was very wrong. How could the Cancer Man have known he was coming? Mulder sat down to relax for a minute, to catch his breath, and began to think...

* * * *

  Mulder wiped the tear from his eye as he closed the door to ScullyÕs hospital room and began to walk. His walk changed quickly to a jog, then sped up more. If he was going to get into the Pentagon, heÕd have to prepare himself. And get some sleep.
  As he ran, he passed many strangers, but they were merely nothing to Mulder. His mind was set on his destination, and it didnÕt pick up any details but the ones Mulder was working out for his break-in.
  It was there he made the fatal mistake.
  The middle aged man stood, watching the young ex-agent approach. He had been given his orders, and was bound to follow them to a ÒTÓ. As Mulder ran by, he slowly began to follow, rubbing his hand through his crew cut.
  It wouldnÕt have done Mulder any good to look at him. He wouldnÕt recognize the face; it was one he hadnÕt seen in three years, and even then, hadnÕt actually seen it. All Mulder got out of this Crew-Cut Man was, ÒYour cell phoneÕs been ringing like h*ll,Ó and a black eye.
  He had been in charge of the murder that night, the one who had taken the package from the old man and shot him down. He particularly enjoyed killing -- it brought him pleasure to see another fall before his bestial wrath. Perhaps now, the Cigarette Smoking Man would let him finish the job he had started.
  As he walked, he pulled a phone out of his pocket. He dialed quickly, and as soon as the phone stopped ringing, immediately said, ÒNow following subject as instructed. Will report any other information as comes.Ó He got a returning sigh from the other line, the sigh of the Cancer Man, and with a *beep*, turned the cell-phone off.
  The Crew-Cut Man had followed Mulder to his apartment, and, through the small bug which he had planted earlier, behind MulderÕs fish tank, listened to everything Mulder said. He heard the rustling of bags, the typing of a computer, and finally got the pay-off.
  ÒLangly, this is Mulder,Ó said the voice over the small bug. Silence followed, but not for long. ÒScullyÕs in the hospital. The cancer, yÕknow.Ó More silence. ÒYeah, but IÕm gonna find out what.Ó Silence. ÒLetÕs just say in a few hours weÕll know try to prove your Ôimpossible to break into the PentagonÕ theory wrong.Ó
  The Crew-Cut Man needed to hear no more. He pulled out the phone and reported it. Once again, he got the returning grunt. With the click from the other line, he knew his job was done. No blood to be spilled today. At least, not by him.
  Slowly, the Crew-Cut Man pulled away from MulderÕs apartment.

* * * *

Federal Bureau of Investigation Headquarters
12:44 AM

  Walter Skinner walked through the brightly lit hallways. Granted, he shouldnÕt have been up this late, but he had to be. He had a purpose.
  He hadnÕt meant to hear it, but did. As he walked through the Pentagon that day, picking up some files needed for ScullyÕs new case, he had passed by a guard whose walkie-talkie was spurting out a few words. Skinner managed to catch them.
  Ò...ossibile break-in tonight... middle aged man... goes by Mulde...Ó
  Skinner had stopped dead in his tracks. He spun around, trying to hear more. Ò...eave alone... no interfere...Ó it buzzed. ÒRepeat.... o interference.Ó
  That was enough. That was all he needed to hear. He spun around and headed back to the exit doors, already knowing who was behind this all. After all, Skinner was now part of the coverups, and knew the Cancer ManÕs way of thinking.
  ThatÕs why Skinner hadnÕt punched out yet. He had waited, all day, for the black-lunged little weasel to show his black-lunged little weasel face. Ever since the recent reassignment of Mulder, SkinnerÕs frustration towards the man had grown to pure hatred.
  It had been a while, and Skinner was tired of waiting. He walked to the Cancer ManÕs door, opening it without a knock. The first thing Skinner saw was the elder manÕs back, slipping on his jacket. He spun around to face Skinner, slipping on the last of the two sleeves. He was obviously startled by the presence of the Assistant Director of Resources.
  For a moment, both were caught in a blind stare. The Cigarette Smoking Man broke that silence. ÒYou didnÕt knock,Ó he rasped.
  Skinner shot back, ÒWhat is going on?Ó
  The grayed man looked surprised. ÒIÕm working late. But I have to get home. I donÕt want to miss tonightÕs ÔSightingsÕ.Ó followed by a small snicker.
  Skinner was boiling. ÒWhy are you having the guards ignore MulderÕs break in? What are you going to do to him?Ó He took a step forward.
  The Cancer Man was now obviously getting angry, too. He grabbed a smoke from his pocket at let it hang from his lip. ÒMr. Skinner,Ó he said. ÒYou are a puppett. Nothing but. DonÕt meddle in affairs that are too big for you.Ó
  Just one swing...
  Skinner took another step. ÒWhat is going on?Ó he repeated.
  ÒSkinner, let this be your last warning...Ó the elder man threatened.
  One swing...
  ÒWhat are you up to?Ó
  ÒMr. Skinner, get out of my way!Ó was the command given as the Cancer Man lit his cigarette, stepping forward.
  One...
  Skinner tried to stop it, but it was too late. He acted only on hatred, sending his fist forward. It connected with the Cancer ManÕs face. Hard. In a matter of a second, the old man landed on the floor, his consciousness fading. Slowly, his eyes rolled back. A drop of blood trickled from the Cancer ManÕs nose.
  Skinner just stood, breathing heavily.

* * * *

  Fox Mulder had entered the dark room through the skylight. Quietly removing the panel, he had lowered a rope and skidded down. Looking around, he found it a lucky coincidence he was in the right place.
  Beside him, box after box was stockpiled, each labeled with certain terms. Implant. Fetus. Tag #. Mulder smiled, tearing off his dark mask.
  This was it...
  His proof.
  He began to search, looking for any term that might help him find what he was looking for. Anything to do with ÒgreenÓ or ÒDNAÓ. As he walked, another intersecting hallway caught his eye. Maybe what he needed was down there.
  He took the turn and began scanned the sides of the many shelves. The first was labeled ÒAA-AMÓ. The next, ÒBA-BOÓ. He turned his head. Similar labels on the shelves on the other side.
  Hmm...
  Mulder tried to determine what the labels might be, and decided to investigate. He entered the hallway marked ÒMA-MNÓ and found himself staring at many dusty file cabinets. Opening one, he read through the names. Maas, Mabb, Mable...
  Dossiers.
  Government dossiers.
  He closed the file cabinet. This wasnÕt what he was looking for! He exited, and as he turned to head back to the previous aisle, the label across from him caught his eye.
  MO-MU.
  An idea came to him.
  Mulder looked to his left, then to his right. No one. Good.
  He ran, secluding himself in the darkness of the aisle.
  Maybe it was time to find out what the government thought about him.



*****************************************************************************


Chapter Two: Found

The Pentagon
12:49 AM

  Alex Krycek had been the first to hear about the alien presence in the ÒForbidden HallwayÓ.
  Krycek had just been passing by the desk outside the chamber when a small, red light began to blink. He instantly knew what it meant, but the guard outside helped make it crystal clear. ÒSomethinÕ inside,Ó the guard belched. ÒWe were told to let it be earlier.Ó
  Krycek needed in that hallway. He had to do his job. If Mulder got away without a fight, the Cancer Man would surely have his butt in a can. And when Krycek demanded his entrance, and the guard turned him down, he became a little angry.
  Krycek had grabbed the guard and pulled him into the menÕs room across the hall. One silent shot took care of his problem. The man hadnÕt had time to scream. Krycek felt the blood smear across his face. But that didnÕt matter now. All that mattered was Mulder.
  ThatÕs how he had found himself here. In this dark hallway. He had never been here before, but had heard stories about it, and how everything secret, everything the government wanted no one to know about, was right here.
  But no Mulder.
  Krycek examined the rope hanging down from the removed skylight. Mulder would have taken it up if he had run. That meant he was still here. Somewhere.
  Krycek exposed his .44.
  Somewhere...

* * * *

Federal Bureau of Investigation Headquarters
12:51 AM

  The Cancer ManÕs cigarette had been snuffed in the fall.
  Skinner hovered over the elder man, the blood running from his nose. He clenched his fists tightly, feeling the anger he had exposed. It reminded him of his old days as a marine. When nothing could touch him. When he felt higher than God.
  Skinner was as surprised as the Cancer Man when his fist swung. He couldnÕt believe he would just snap like that. One stupid move, he thought. Now IÕve gone and screwed my career. Still, he agreed. It felt good.
  The Cancer Man grumbled after a minute or two, squirming on the floor. That was good, Skinner smiled. At least he hadnÕt hurt the Chain Smoking man *TOO* badly. Slowly, the Cancer Man began to push himself up, raising himself to his feet. He wiped the blood from his face, almost losing his balance as he stood up, and turned to face Skinner. ÒTouche,Ó he said.
  SkinnerÕs eyes were a glare, his clenched teeth hidden by his closed mouth. ÒDonÕt tick me off,Ó Skinner spat. ÒNot ever again.Ó
  The Cancer Man was still a little dizzy, but began walking to the door again, and evil grin donning his face. ÒAhh, but you see Mr. Skinner,Ó he snickered. ÒThatÕs my nature.Ó
  Skinner moved as the man came closer. He had nothing to say to him. The Cancer Man, however, turned as he walked out of the door. ÒSkinner, I admire your courage,Ó he spat. ÒThatÕs why you still get your job.Ó He pulled out a Morley, and slipped it between his lips.
  ÒJust donÕt tick ME off. Not ever again.Ó
  Slowly, the man turned and walked away.
  Skinner just shook his head, glaring.

* * * *

  Scully dreamt.
  For almost 24 hours, she had been in a state of nothingness; a state of silence. Over that time, many recounts of past events had gone through her head. She vividly pictured her graduation from Quantico. Her fatherÕs funeral. The death of her sister. The first time she met Mulder.
  Although saddening, those images kept Scully alive. That, and the help of MulderÕs presence. She knew she could always count on him. And that was why, if she ever caught out of this state, she would have to...
  Another image flooded her brain, this one more real than the rest.
  Scully glanced around. The room was dark. There was nothing. Everything was hidden, withstrained in the shadows.
  Nothing.
  Then, the light.
  Scully looked around frantically. Small, grey silhouettes approached from every side. Although features were hidden, Scully knew what they were. She knew WHO they were.
  She remembered.
  Looking around, she began to make out the features of the approaching beings. They were small in height, shorter than most humans. Their eyes were large, their four fingered hands outstretched. Some carried needles and other tools.
  They were extra-terrestrials.
  The swarmed around her, grabbing at her, pushing their sharp instruments into her easy to penetrate skin. She opened her mouth to scream, but there was no sound. She tried to run, to escape these horrible creatures, but was somehow unable to move.
  Another silhouette approached. This one was much taller than the rest. Scully strained to make out details, to see who it was approaching, but before she could, the figure stopped. It remained hidden in the bright light, all features non-visible.
  An alien smell filled ScullyÕs nostrils. It was one she had smelt before. It was easily recognizable.
  Where was the cigarette smoke coming from?

* * * *

12:49 AM

  Mulder slid the file cabinet open. He rapidly scanned through each name, searching frantically for his own. Mudner. Muhhy. Mujs. Mulder.
  Mulder, Fox W.
  He slid the file out of the cabinet and lay it on the cold, gray floor. He opened it to find a picture of himself, his FBI identification photo, with a dossier beside it. He read the description to himself.
  ÒJanuary, 89. Fox Mulder has been one of the most helpful agents, assisting in the capture of Monty Props during his service to the Behavioral Sciences Unit of Violent Crimes Section. He has become an important asset. It has also been discovered, however, that he could impose a threat to the government at a later date.
  ÒFebruary, 92. Since debunking the so-called ÒX-FileÓ project, MulderÕs impending threat has grown immensely. Suggest ÒwatchdogÓ to keep him in line.
  ÒApril, 92. Agent Dana Scully has fulfilled her duty of keeping Mulder in line. She is the only one who can keep Mulder away from the truth.Ó
  Mulder stopped reading. Impose a threat? Scully keeping me away from the truth? What am I worth to be called a threat?
  Disgusted, Mulder flipped through the dossier. It went on for pages like it had, finally coming to filed reports and his thesis. Mulder sighed. This wasnÕt helping at all. He needed to get back to the other chamber. Maybe something of use could be found there.
  As he tipped the file to put it away, however, something fell. Mulder looked down to see a medium sized manila envelope on the ground. He bent down, bringing the letter to his face. Across the envelope, in big bold letters, was a message.
  MULDER -- OPEN IMMEDIATELY.

* * * *

1:01 AM

  The Cancer ManÕs car squealed to a stop in front of the Pentagon. Opening the door, he began his journey towards the door. Mulder was definitely inside. He could feel it.
  This is where the fun began.

* * * *

12:58 AM

  Mulder opened the envelope, sliding itÕs contents into his hand.
  A small stack of papers, and a medium sized box. That was it. Mulder was obviously confused. Why hadnÕt he gotten this before? Who was it from? Why was it in his dossier?
  Slowly, he unfolded the papers. The first one was a hand-written document. Mulder read it aloud.
  ÒMr. Mulder-- If you are reading this, it means you have already broken a number of laws. No doubt you have broken into the Pentagon, but also seen things no one of your rank should ever have seen.
  ÒIt also, means, however, that the truth is still out there, and that you are getting desperate. Well, Mr. Mulder, the truth is in here. In this building, in these hallways, and even in your hand.
  ÒWhat you hold is an uncensored document and proof of extraterrestrial life. Inside the package you will find what you need.Ó Mulder stopped. He slid open the box and dumped itÕs contents into his hand. A small, glass container held something amazing. MulderÕs eyes went wide.
  It was a sample of the green liquid.
  He continued reading. ÒThe document will explain everything. This is the proof, Mulder. The proof that the truth is out there.
  ÒÔDeep ThroatÕ.Ó
  ÒAnd thatÕs where it belongs. The truth, I mean. It belongs Ôout thereÕ.Ó
  The sudden voice startled Mulder. He looked up. Approaching was a younger man, a gun pointed towards Mulder, with an instantly recognizable face. The mustache didnÕt change the look of the rat. ÒKrycek...Ó Mulder spat.
  ÒIn the flesh,Ó Krycek shot back. He continued approaching. ÒAnd I have orders to stop you with any process necessary.Ó The gun clicked. Krycek came a step nearer, a bright smile on his face. ÒIÕve been looking forward to this since my first day as your partner.
  ÒSay goodbye,Ó he snickered. ÒMr. Mulder.Ó

* * * *

  Where was the smoke coming from?
  Why couldnÕt she move?  What was going on?
  Scully began to panic inside of her head. It was like a really bad dream, only much more real. One that she couldnÕt wake up from. Her heart began to race. Faster and faster and faster until finally...
   ...Gone.
  ScullyÕs body went limp.

*****************************************************************************


Chapter Three: Sliding Downhill

The Pentagon
1:03 AM

  Mulder didnÕt dare move.
  Hidden within a dark corridor in the depths of the U.S. Pentagon building, Fox Mulder, ex-Special Agent, was on his knees, held at gunpoint. His use-to-be partner and friend, Alex Krycek, approached him, his false arm hanging dead at the side and the other, bandaged from a bullet wound, holding a .44 directly at MulderÕs skull.
  Krycek began to step forward. ÒYou see, Mulder?Ó he asked. ÒDo you see how the government works? They leak on the good American citizens and do whatever they d*mn well please. They hide what they think could cause a riot. They deny knowledge.Ó
  Mulder began to sweat, hearing the click of the gun, signifying itÕs readiness to kill him in an instant. Krycek continued. ÒThatÕs why the Cancer Man took me back; in fear I might expose something. And thatÕs why he sent me to kill you; fear of exposure.Ó
  Mulder quickly flung the green liquid up, exposing it in the moonlit section of the room. ÒYou see this?Ó he asked. ÒDo you SEE this? This is it, isnÕt it?! This is the evidence that theyÕre here, that you government goggle-boxes help them! This is the thing that could save Scully, isnÕt it?!Ó
  Krycek fell dead silent.
  ÒISNÕT IT?!Ó
  More silence.
  ÒIf IÕm going to die anyway, tell me! Let me hear the truth! ThatÕs all IÕve worked for! Just tell me...Ó Mulder spun the glass container filled with the green liquid around. ÒJust tell me if this is it.Ó
  Slowly, Krycek brought his gun down to rest beside him. He walked forward, nearing Mulder.
  Then, the shot rang out.
  Mulder was as startled as Krycek. He rapidly checked his body. Had Krycek just shot him? Where was the enter wound? Mulder looked up to Krycek.
  Krycek gargled a little, putting his hand to his chest. As he pulled it away, it shining in the moonlight, Mulder sat wide eyed. The hand was draped in blood, soaked beet red. Krycek looked at his hand until he could no more; until his eyes rolled back, losing consciousness. He fell to the ground, not more than a foot from Mulder.
  Mulder stared at the body of Krycek. But not for long. Quickly, he brought his eyes to focus on the being at the back of the long hallway of file cabinets. The man spoke, ÒUnwise to lower your weapon, Krycek.Ó
  Mulder knew the voice, but the image gave away the gunman immediately. He was of medium height and weight, and above his head, a cloud of cigarette smoke swarmed. The man picked the Morley out of his mouth, and upon throwing it to the ground, snuffed it out with his shoe.
  ÒYou...Ó Mulder hissed, grabbing his piece from his side. He tried to speak again, but only managed to choke out another angry, ÒYou...!Ó
  As the Cancer Man approached, Mulder noticed the evil glint in his eye. His face was expressionless, twisted and cruel. It was a face Mulder knew all too well... a face he hated. A face he despised.
  ÒYes, Mr. Mulder, me,Ó he hissed, pulling another cigarette from his pocket. ÒWhy are you in here... as opposed to being over there, rooting through what you THINK is extraterrestrial proof.Ó
  ÒWhat I KNOW is proof,Ó Mulder spat. The Cancer Man returned a snicker.
  Mulder was frustrated, and he jumped to his feet, pulling the gun out in front, aiming it at the elder manÕs skull. ÒYou think I donÕt know?!Ó Mulder yelled. ÒYou think I have no idea what you do? You think I donÕt know THEYÕRE out there?!Ó
  The Cancer Man lit the cigarette. ÒMr. Mulder, what do you think I do?Ó
  Mulder clenched his sample. The Cancer Man hadnÕt seen it yet, if he was lucky. ÒI know what you do. I know that the governmentÕs in on it -- Duane Barry... remember him?... He helped me see the way you do things.Ó
  ÒDuane Barry was a deranged man, Mr. Muld...Ó The Cancer Man rasped.
  ÒAn alien abductee!Ó Mulder interrupted. ÒNot deranged! I know it, you know it, the whole government knows it.Ó
  For a moment, both stood silent. Mulder tasted the sweat as it ran down his brow. He clenched his gun tightly. Finally, the Cigarette Smoking Man spoke. ÒWhere is your proof, Mulder?Ó
  Mulder felt his grip around the small, glass case tighten. ÒYou want proof?Ó Mulder said through clenched teeth. ÒYou want some PROOF?! IÕll show you proof!Ó Mulder couldnÕt stop himself. He raised the glass container for the elder man to see. The contents shifted as he did, oozing throughout the protective case.
  The Cancer ManÕs eyes went wide. His mouth drooped, dropping the cigarette to the floor. ÒWh-where did you get that?Ó
  MulderÕs eyes were winced. He gestured with his head back to the manila envelope and document, now sitting on the floor, near KrycekÕs motionless heap. ÒFrom there,Ó Mulder said. ÒFrom Deep Throat.Ó
  ÒDeep Throat...Ó the Cancer Man said, his voice almost as whisper.
  Mulder nodded, then dropped the hand holding the green liquid. ÒNow, are you going to tell me what this green crap is? Or do I have to...Ó
  Mulder stopped, suddenly surprised. The Cancer Man moved fast, shooting his gun up to MulderÕs head. Both were breathing heavily, sweating, only two feet apart, both ready to kill. Two men, two guns, one fate.
  For a moment, time stood still.
  Both men waited.

* * * *

St. JosephÕs Hospital
1:06 AM

  ÒReady?! CLEAR!!!Ó
  The surge of power went through ScullyÕs body, but she was unaware of it. Her image, her realistic encounter, had pushed her too far. She couldnÕt take it any more; she was tired of fighting. And, for the first time in her life, she let go.
  The doctors swarmed over her like bees over a flower, grabbing miscellaneous tools and electric devices, running around, yelling at each other. ÒBPÕs crashing!Ó and another ÒCLEAR!Ó were two that stood out.
  Where had the cigarette smoke come from?

* * * *

  Mulder breathed heavily, the gun ready to fire.
  The Cancer Man was doing the same.
  It had come to this.
  And it was time to act.
  In almost the blink of an eye, the tables turned. Mulder swung his foot up, knocking the gun out of the elder manÕs hand. The Cancer Man stood back, afraid. But Mulder wasnÕt done yet. With another quick swipe of the foot, the Cancer Man was on the ground, Mulder brooding over him.
  ÒNow,Ó Mulder said. ÒWeÕre gonna make a little deal.Ó
  ÒAnd if I refuse?Ó The Cancer Man asked.
  ÒWell,Ó Mulder smiled. ÒI hear deathÕs nice this time of year.Ó

* * * *

1:14 AM

  Everyone rushed around the room in ScullyÕs hospital location. They buzzed about, screaming at each other, unaware of the lone man who had just entered the door. He was surprised. He hadnÕt expected Scully would be in a near-dead state when he got here. Crap.
  The younger man approached, dressed like a doctor. He went undetected. Good. This would please the Cancer Man...
  As he approached, he yelled, ÒMOVE BACK!Ó The doctorÕs were startled by this sudden command, but did as they were instructed. Slowly, the young man approached the dying girl, listening to the whining ÒhummÓ of the machine, reminding all her heart had stopped.
  Slowly, he reached out. His eyes rolled back as he placed his hands on ScullyÕs forehead. The doctorÕs looked around at each other, mumbling curses of, ÒWhatÕs this?Ó and ÒWho is this guy?Ó But the young man didnÕt care. Because he knew what he was doing was right. Following orders is always a good thing when your dealing with the Cancer Man.
  For a minute, the room remained silent. The man stood, putting pressure on ScullyÕs skull, energy rushing through him. And slowly, but surely, nothing short of a miracle happened.
  Scully slowly began to open her eyes.

*****************************************************************************

Epilogue

The Pentagon
1:08 AM

  ÒI hear deathÕs really nice this time of year.Ó
  Mulder aimed the gun, point blank from the Cancer ManÕs skull. The elder man had been taken by surprise by the strength of this ex-agent, both in his beliefs and his foot. After all, Mulder hadnÕt slept in over 48 hours.
  The Cancer Man thought over what Mulder had just shot at him. It was something he didnÕt like to admit, but Mulder was right. It was time to listen, time to understand, time to...
  ...Time to expose the truth.
  The Cancer Man inhaled deeply, then removed the breath from his lungs by way of sigh. ÒGo ahead, Mr. Mulder,Ó he gestured.
  Mulder came closer to the Cancer Man and bent down to meet him on the floor. Mulder brought forward his other hand and grabbed the Cancer ManÕs wrist. The Cancer Man only had one thought going through his head.
  IÕm going to die.
  The Cancer Man winced as Mulder opened the elder manÕs hand. He waited for the shot; waited for his imminent death. Instead, he felt something small hit his hand. He opened his eyes and looked down into his palm.
  There sat the green liquid.
  Mulder closed the Cancer ManÕs hand, then stood up. ÒThere,Ó Mulder finally said. ÒIs your truth. Keep it. You can get the document from over there -- I didnÕt get a chance to read it.Ó
  ÒWhy, Mulder?Ó The Cancer Man asked, getting to his feet. ÒWhat brought on this sudden change of heart?Ó
  Mulder shook his head. ÒDonÕt get me wrong. I despise you,Ó Mulder hissed. ÒI feel nothing but hate for you. You know how to cure ScullyÕs cancer, you know about each and every cover up, and you know where my sister is. And someday, I vow, I will get my revenge.
  ÒBut not tonight.Ó
  The Cancer Man nodded, once again taking a Morley out of his jacket pocket and lighting it. ÒYouÕve got guts, Mulder. And youÕre asking what in return?Ó
  Mulder sighed. ÒScullyÕs dying. We both know it.Ó The Cancer Man nodded. ÒTake my cell phone, get someone on, and get them over there to cure her.Ó
  The Cigarette Smoking Man protested. ÒBut I...Ó
  ÒIf you canÕt cure her, save her. Let her live for a while. She deserves that. She deserves MORE than that,Ó Mulder interrupted.
  Once again, both figures stood silent. They stared into each other, exploring each otherÕs deep secrets and emotions. After what seemed like hours, the Cancer Man nodded. ÒAnything else?Ó
  Mulder nodded. ÒYeah. I want my job back. I want my X-Files back.Ó
  Mulder drew his cell phone and gestured it towards the Cancer Man. Slowly, the Cancer Man took it from him and brought it towards his ear. As the phone began to ring, the elder man nodded again.
  ÒSo be it, AGENT Mulder.Ó

* * * *

  In the moonlight, Krycek bled.
  The sun had begun to creep up as Krycek let out his grunt of pain. Slowly, the man pushed with all his might. It took every ounce of strength to get to his knees. He looked down at the hole in his chest.
  It was a mortal wound.
  Krycek rose to his feet. Anger flowed through and out of him like blood. He would have his revenge.
  Someday, they would pay.
  Every one of them.

* * * *

  The Cancer Man held the green liquid in his hand, staring into it.
  Already he had torched the article in his fireplace. Now, it was time to dispose of THIS. How had Deep Throat actually found a real, live specimen? It was beyond the Cancer ManÕs knowledge.
  Slowly, he tipped the contained, watching the liquid spill into itÕs grave. ÒThere,Ó he cooed. ÒNow, maybe, youÕll be out of my life forever.Ó
  With a FLUSH, the liquid disappeared.
  The Cancer Man walked away.

* * * *

TWO DAYS LATER

  Agent Scully lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
  She had been through a lot lately, no doubt about that, and still had a lot of things on her mind. She wondered about the repressed memory she had called during her dreaming state, wondering if it had been true, that the Cancer Man had been there, or if the antibiotics had been playing with her. She wondered about a lot of things, but there was one thing she was sure of right now, and that was what to do about Mulder.
  As that thought came to her head, she was surprised to see Mulder walk through the door, carrying a bouquet of flowers. She smiled at him. ÒHi,Ó she whispered.
  ÒHey,Ó he said, sitting down.
  Scully looked at him. Although smiling, she could tell something was troubling him. ÒMulder,Ó she asked. ÒWhat is it...?Ó
  He sat silent.
  ÒMulder?Ó
  He sighed heavily, then looked into her eyes. ÒDana,Ó he said. Once again, she was surprised to have been addressed by her first name. ÒI love you, donÕt get me wrong about that. You mean the world to me.Ó
  Scully smiled. ÒBut...?Ó
  ÒBut...Ó Mulder began.
  Scully didnÕt let him finish. ÒBut I canÕt compete with the X-Files. TheyÕll always be your first love. I know that.Ó
  Mulder smiled. ÒYou mean...?Ó
  Scully returned the smile. ÒIÕm not sure the Bureau would like it very much either. The last thing they need is another ÔSpookyÕ. ThatÕs why we shouldnÕt see each other. Right?Ó
  Mulder nodded. ÒBut how did you...?Ó
  Scully reached out and grabbed his hand. ÒBecause I was thinking the exact same thing.Ó Mulder held her hand, smiling. ÒI guess we arenÕt as different as we once thought, Mulder. I guess thereÕs something in us that will always connect.Ó
  For a moment, both stayed silent, wrapped in each otherÕs moods. They stared at each other, both flashing huge smiles. For a moment, everything was perfect. Then, Scully brought up a new subject.  ÒMulder,Ó she said, her smile fading. ÒI got a visit this morning from... from the Cancer Man.Ó
  MulderÕs eyes went wide.
  ÒAnd he told me everything. He said he figured I should know. Know that you sacrificed everything to try and save me.Ó  Mulder nodded. ScullyÕs look was begging for an explanation. ÒYeah,Ó Mulder said. ÒBut I knew it was the right thing to do, because youÕre the only friend IÕve ever had. You understand where I come from, where I get all of my crazy explanations. Keep your skepticism, thatÕs what youÕre good at. Besides, no matter what... you believe in me.Ó Scully sat there smiling for a while, before Mulder stood up. ÒI have to go,Ó he said. ÒIÕm double parked and they want me back at the office. I just wanted to see how you were feeling, thatÕs all.Ó
  Mulder walked to the door, and upon opening it, was faced with a question. ÒMulder?Ó Scully asked. He spun to look at her. ÒWhy did you do it? You could have known everything. You could have found Samantha.
  ÒMulder, you could have had the truth youÕve wanted for so long.Ó
  Mulder smiled, beginning to step out of the door. ÒI know,Ó he called. He paused for a second.
  ÒThatÕs what I was afraid of,Ó he finished.
  Slowly, with a small wave, Mulder closed the door.

fin