TITLE: By the Light of the Blood Red Moon AUTHOR: Maidenjedi RATING: R CATEGORY: SA, X, LGM EMAIL: texgoddess@yahoo.com ARCHIVE: Spooky's, Xemplary, Gossamer, Ephemeral. Anyone else please email me first. I will probably say ok. SUMMARY: Byers and Scully chase down yet another lead in the ongoing search for Mulder. SPOILERS: Requiem, and references to the classics. Nothing we all haven't seen, I'm sure. This story assumes the upcoming Season 8 either does not take place, or does so after these events. DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Nope nope nope. AUTHOR'S NOTES: The abductees in this story take their last names from fanfic geniuses David Hearne and Brandon Ray. You guys are wonderful and your work is inspirational. I am very very bad. I am warning you all now that Scully had a miscarraige in the backstory of this piece. That is my way of adding to the extreme angst and to keep Scully able to travel when she should be seven months or so along. I should also add that I know nothing about the town in Pennsylvania that I chose for this story, but I liked the name and so chose it for its worth as an X-Files location. This one is dedicated to all those who believe. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "Past is prologue." -- Brandon Ray *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ From the Horoscopes for the Superstitious website -- Week of 10/8/00 to 10/13/00: Pisces: This week is particularly inauspicious for affairs of the heart. Avoid traveling west on Friday. ************** From the The Lone Gunmen website -- Members' Forum, 11:21 AM, Thursday, October 12, 2000: User: Not@Fed Email: dagobahdude@email4me.net Message: Field report claims bogey over Tunkahannock skies. You guys wanted to know, I'm giving it to ya. Any news on Moose? ************ 11:23 AM, Thursday, October 12, 2000 "Scully?" "Yeah." "This is Byers." "I know." "We have a bogey." *sigh* "Where?" "Pennsylvania." "Are we going?" *pause* "Byers?" *pause* "Yeah, I'm going." "I'm going, too. Get me a ticket on a charter or whatever. The doctors aren't comfortable with me driving that long." *pause* "Commuter flight ok?" "Yes. For God's sake, Byers...." "I know." "Byers?" "Yeah." "Is this another hoax, do you think?" *pause* "Byers?" "Scully..." "Tell me what you think. Is this another hoax?" *sigh* "Scully, there is no way to know this time." "Damnit." "What?" "Nothing." "Scully?" "Mmm?" "You don't have to go." "Yes I do." *sigh* "He's out there. I owe it to him." *click* *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ FRIDAY, OCTOBER 13, 2000 JUST BEFORE DAWN Once upon a time, in a land not so very far away, there was a woman, an FBI agent by the name of Dana Katherine Scully. She worked very hard to overcome the stigma of being a woman, first in medical school, and then in the Bureau. On this particular Friday, she was dealing with the stigma of being not only the woman, but also the partner left behind. She was pondering the fates that had led her to this moment, the choices that landed her here, on a cold bench on an equally cold October morning. In 1993, despite her efforts and her will power, she found herself buried in the basement of one of the most powerful crime investigation organizations in the free world. The J. Edgar Hoover building housed the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and Dana Scully had been shunned into the bowels of it. Because of her scientific background, they claimed, she was being partnered with one of the Bureau's chief sources of embarrassment. At first, she looked at her assignment to the X-files as a challenge. Her job description now included the debunking of one Special Agent Fox Mulder, a man who had rightfully earned the nickname "Spooky", a man who believed in the impossible and the fantastic. Oh, and lets not forget the supernatural, the preternatural, and the conspiratorial. But by the end of their second case together, she found that she could not just debunk him and move on. In a few swift moments, he became everything to her. She couldn't betray him, not if she were to stay human. He was vulnerable, she saw that one dark night in Oregon. He was human, she saw that in his sense of humor and of duty. But part of her, the secret part that she didn't even write in a diary, stayed with him because she wanted to believe. She wanted him to prove *her* wrong, and though she fought him long and hard for seven years, gradually he was able to do just that. And now, Scully was left behind, left wondering why she had never taken the time to believe him before, and wondering if believing him would have stopped him from leaving her. Had he known what would happen in Oregon that night? And if he had known, had he done it to just to prove her wrong? Scully didn't know why, not precisely, because she still didn't know if he realized the danger before he stepped onto that craft. She thought she knew that he wouldn't have gone had he known about her, about why she had fallen ill. She thought he knew that things had finally come full circle for them, and that his leaving this last time had only cemented that fact. Dana Katherine Scully sat in the early morning Washington fog, contemplating her fate and Mulder's fate. She wondered, not for the first time, if he had weighed the consequences before he left. If he had for one moment hesitated, wanting to come back to her, back to his work, and to turn his back on the mysteries in the woods outside Bellefleur. But that wasn't fair, was it? Chasing little green (*gray*, she corrected herself) men was not only his passion, but his life. Samantha had been found, but there was more than Samantha in those basement cabinets, wasn't there? Oh, yes. There most certainly was. The fog and the chill coming off the Reflection Pool reminded Scully of dozens of incidents past. Today, though, her memories were superceded by the dark suspicion that he was gone for good this time, and she really was left alone. The wind blew sharply into her ears. This was the end of the road, she thought. Mulder was gone and the X-files were in danger. Did she have the strength to continue? ********************************************** FRIDAY, OCTOBER 13 PENNSYLVANIA Tunkahannock, Pennsylvania. Another lead, another sighting. And no Scully. Byers checked his watch again. The airport wasn't very big, and there were very few flights coming and going. Scully's plane had landed a half an hour ago, and Byers still stood waiting for her. Had she missed the plane? Did she not want to come? Not that Byers would blame her. This was a sketchy, iffy lead at best, and at worst it was a hoax. Another goddam hoax, another jokester thinking he could impress his girlfriend with the tabloid money. It made Byer's hair stand on end to think what a waste of time those types were causing for him and the other Gunmen, and most of all for Scully. It was cruel to get her hopes up again, like in Little Rock, like in Lubbock. He looked up from his watch and there she stood, a vision in her trademark black trenchcoat and pantsuit. Her red hair seemed more fiery than it had when he last saw her. She was paler everyday, and today was no exception. She was beautiful, vulnerable, and strong. She had survived the worst, but Byers truly wondered if the woman before him would be able to stand yet another heartbreak. "Byers." She said nothing more as she approached him, the one word being sufficient to ask all the necessary questions. "Scully." He dared not say more for a moment, and simply nodded at her. The awkward silence that fell was not unfamiliar at this point. Mulder had been abducted, disappeared, in May of that year. So much had happened since then, to Scully, to the Gunmen. Byers was the silent leader in Mulder's absence, and as such had been with Scully through the worst of it. "Are you feeling alright?" He almost didn't ask. She pressed her lips together in a tight white line, her only outward sign of displeasure in being asked. "Yeah, Byers. I feel alright." Scully spoke the words as if it should have been obvious. Byers thought for a moment that she was right, it should have been obvious. It had been three months since.... But it was better not to think about it. They had more pressing issues at hand. "I was able to track down the man who reported the sighting, Agent Scully." Byers knew she would prefer her title to Dana, or worse, just Scully. In public, she insisted on maintaining her professional appearance in all aspects. "His name is Harrison Fisher, and as far as I know, he was the only one who saw anything suspicious that night. His neighbors, the townsfolk, all claim that Fisher is off his nut." Scully heaved a sigh. It was plain to Byers that Scully had begun to think they were chasing an illusion. She had believed, after all these years, but the past few months of chasing hoaxes and false reports and hallucinations had given her cause to think more like the old Scully. Scully, pre-abduction. Byers hated seeing her like this, seeing her lose hope. Mulder was out there, he felt in his gut, and he was sure that they were *this* close to finding him. Scully led the way to a phone booth, saying something vague about wanting to look up a cab company. Byers was taken aback by her attitude and mood. Even at the worst moments in her life, during all these years that he had known her, she had never been as pessimistic or as upset as she was today. "Scully." "What?" She spun around, irritated. Byers did not shirk from her gaze. "Rental car. The blue Ford in the parking lot." Scully's tense stance eased very slightly, until she noticed the scrutiny she was under. Her shoulders squared and her chin high she spun around again and walked determinedly toward the parking lot. Byers sighed as he crossed fingers and began to follow her. With the grace of God and a lot of luck, this would go their...her... way. And maybe the mystery would begin to come together. **************************************** The drive out to Harrison Fisher's residence was not a long one in terms of distance. The early morning sky told the pair that it was definitely fall, with streaks of orange peaking under a thin veil of clouds. Byers tried once or twice to begin small talk with comments on the weather, but Scully would not respond. On Byers' third try, she did speak. "Wherever Mulder is, Byers, he has no morning sky." Her voice was thick with fatigue and pure irritation, and barely concealed grief. Byers shut up. The Fisher residence was less than thrilling from the outset. Like the hundreds of thousands like it, it was a small frame house, sagging at the edges like a tired old woman. Behind the house was a barn in bad need of a good paint job, and various dead or dying trees stuck up in between. The rest of the county and surrounding countryside gave away plainly that it was fall in Pennsylvania, with brilliant red and gold leaves covering the trees and littering the ground. The fields surrounding the house (Byers had found out that there were about four or five acres belonging to Harrison Fisher) were bare for the upcoming winter, except for a few bales of hay and a pair of stout-looking workhorses. The entire area was an anachronism, right down to the rocking chair on the front porch. As Scully and Byers stepped out of the car, Byers corrected himself. *They* were the anachronism on this property, in their suits and with their brand-new Ford. It was almost a violation, in Byers' eyes. "Howdy." The man approaching Scully and Byers was almost exactly how Scully had pictured he might look. It wasn't as if UFO sightings were new to her, anyway. "I'm Harrison Fisher. Who might you folks be?" With this last, he spit out what appeared to Scully to be tobacco. She silently thanked the powers that be that Mulder had been into sunflower seeds. Her throat began to close up at the thought of Mulder, and she pushed it to the back of her mind. "I'm Agent Dana Scully, and this is my partner, Agent Mulder." This was their standard lie to the men and women reporting UFOs. Frohike had thought that they might be able to weed through the crazies a little easier that way. If they had found out about Mulder's disappearance and wanted to lure Scully out their way, chances were that if they thought Mulder was alive they would give up. "We're with the FBI." "Here to ask me 'bout the flyin' saucers, I reckon." It wasn't a question. Scully stared the taller man in the eyes. "Yes, as a matter of fact." He ignored her, focusing his attention on Byers. Scully felt her blood rise in indignation at being treated so indifferently. Byers' eyes met hers sideways for a brief moment, urging her to play along for both their sakes, and for Mulder's. She was reminded of her childhood, playing the submissive girl when she really wanted to play the more agressive role. Scully shrugged, deferring. All she really wanted today was to get the disappointment over with. "I seen 'em a few times, mostly in the west sky at night. They don't dance or nothin', not like the way it says in them science fiction books. But they're real. Green light in the sky, blocks out the whole view. And I'm the only one who's been seein' em." Scully wanted to get out of there, away from this man who spilled his guts too quickly and away from the tabloid overtones. Byers, on the other hand, noticed the differences in Fisher's tale. "Mr. Fisher..." "Harry." He spat again. "Harry. You say the craft was always in one place?" "Yep. Never shook or nothin." Scully got it then, and realized she had a question of her own. "Mr. Fisher, you've lived here a long time." "All my life, ma'am. All sixty-two years." "Yes. Have you ever heard of local alien abductions? Anyone in the area?" Silence fell. Harrison Fisher became visibly uncomfortable at the suggestion, almost as if he wanted to get as far away as he could as fast as possible. Scully had hit a nerve with her question, and the look Byers gave her told her that she wasn't the only one who noticed. Instead of bolting, however, Fisher spat out the rest of his tobacco and cleared his throat. "Would you folks like to come in and sit a spell?" ****************************************** He took a long sip of his heavily sugared iced tea and sat down at the kitchen table facing Byers and Scully. For a long moment, Scully was unsure he would speak. It was obvious that whatever he was going to tell them, it hurt him to even think about. Scully clenched her fists in her lap, her nails digging into her palms. Fisher looked up finally, his upper lip sweaty despite the chilly October air. "It was, oh, twenty years ago when I last heard someone say alien abduction." Byers shifted in his seat. He was suddenly exhilarated, suddenly sure that this was a legit lead. "My wife was still...alive...in those days. Gwen was the only one who believed, at first. She would come in from the fields at night saying she saw it all, saw little Matthew Hearne and Lenny Ray get abducted. She was the only one who ever used that word, for a long time. "I didn't believe her, at first. No one did. A few of the town fathers talked about treatment, but I wouldn't let 'em touch her." He sipped his tea again, and upon putting down knocked over a salt shaker. "Shit." He shook some into his hand, and threw it over his shoulder. At Scully's look of inquiry and amusement, he shrugged. "Can't be too careful, ya know." "Did Gwen ever tell you exactly what she saw that night?" Byers wanted to act his part well, and at Scully's grimace, he knew he was. Fisher swallowed more tea. "Yeah." He was silent for what seemed like hours. Scully actually fidgeted, restless to hear the man's tale. Byers touched the side of her thigh very briefly, hoping to keep her from bombarding the man with questions. The way Scully stiffened, Byers was sure she got the message. Fisher sighed, looking around the room in a way that told Scully he was not accustomed to spilling his secrets. She found that odd, given the way he had opened up outside so easily. "Gwen saw them out in the field that night. In those days, she didn't sleep much, and she'd love to go out on the porch and sit in that rickety old rocker." A touch of nostalgia brightened Fisher's face briefly. "That night was no different. When she came in, she was dazed, near to catatonic. "I took her into our room and tried to coax it out of her, what was wrong. She wouldn't tell. Finally I fell asleep, and I'm pretty sure she didn't. When mornin' broke, she was standing at the window, and she wouldn't look at me at first. Then it was like," he took a breath, ran his hand through his gray-streaked hair, "it was like a light turned on inside her. She told me about a virtually invisible craft, hovering over our fields, and she said she could see it because things disappeared into it. Birds, rabbits, just gone. They'd wiggle, like so." Fisher demonstrated, flailing his arms. Scully shuttered, remembering Bellefleur and her own experience, so similar to the one Fisher described. "Gwen said the two boys were just up to regular boy's mischief, and she was enjoying watching them play in the moonlight. But they kept getting closer to the....the craft. She tried to call out and warn them to keep away, but she said," he paused again, "she said that it was as if her voice had been taken. She could move her lips, but no sound came out. "The boys wiggled violently, like the others, for the briefest of seconds, and then poof. They were gone." Fisher's face had turned beet red, and he was no longer looking at the pair sitting across from him. Silence ruled for a good five minutes while Byers and Scully waited, not wanting to push Harrison Fisher too far. It was Scully who broke the silence first. "Mr. Fisher, where is Gwen now?" She knew the answer, of course, but she was hoping that asking would coax him to tell them more. Gwen Fisher had been dead for the better part of a year, since the early spring. Fisher shifted in his seat. "My Gwen is gone." "How did she pass away?" Fisher looked up at Byers, sheer disbelief clouding his dark brown eyes. "Pass away?" Fisher stood up, nearly knocking over his chair in the process. "Gwen did not 'pass away', Agent Mulder. Gwen was taken." Scully squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the vertigo she felt at hearing those words. Trying not to think of that evening in the hospital with Skinner *I lost him, Scully...I lost him...* Trying not to think of the dozens of false leads that had gotten her hopes up. Trying not to think of the baby she had miscarried. Trying hard not to think of Mulder himself. "Mr. Fisher, are you sure?" Byers was calm, almost professional except for the tug of hurt in his voice that told Scully he was fighting the same images. Fisher nodded, then turned to the sink. "I saw it myself. Just like Gwen told me all those years ago. She was in the field, and then she wasn't, and I couldn't even cry out." "What about Lenny Ray, and Matthew Hearne?" Fisher straightened up, glad to take the conversation away from his missing wife. "One day, not a year after they...were taken, they returned. No one here talks about it, and Lenny was actually taken to the loony bin for awhile because he insisted in talking about little green men." "Gray," Scully whispered. Neither man heard her. "But both boys are all growed up, livin' round here. Well, Lenny is, but Matthew picked up and left not too long ago." "Why was Lenny taken to the, um, loony bin, and not Matthew?" "Matthew didn't speak, not most days. Just to say hi, bye, and to offer to take a look at my busted carbureator. Nobody ever heard him say the things Lenny did, rambling 'bout aliens and abductions." "Any idea where Matthew Hearne is now? Where he might have gone?" It was a long shot, because Fisher was a farmer on the outskirts, but Byers wanted to take the chance. He felt uneasy knowing one abductee had gone missing around the same time as so many others had. Fisher rubbed his chin, looking distinctly uneasy at the questioning. "I have an idea, but unlike my wife, I'm not one to go blab it all over the county." "Go on. You can trust us." Scully spoke in a hushed, ragged voice. Fisher stood facing them, an FBI agent worn to her last nerve, and her partner, anxious and almost needy. He thought to himself that he could indeed trust these two, and that he should tell them what he knew for their sakes as well as his own. Another, darker thought struck him. "You two ain't here because this is FBI business, are you?" Scully's face remained still, while Byers' twitched just slightly. "You're here cause this ain't all that rare, huh? My Gwen and those boys ain't the only ones?" His twang came through hard and strong, a sure sign of his agitation. Byers sighed and looked at Scully, who had crossed her arms over her chest. She returned his look and nodded ever so slightly. She turned to Harrison Fisher, who had finally looked her way and was staring at her. "Mr. Fisher," she started. Scully fought the vertigo again, almost fainting, seeing black dots swim before her eyes. Mulder. Bellefleur. Grays. Skinner. Byers. Hospital gowns. Miscarraige. *Ms. Scully, I hate to have to tell you this* "Mr. Fisher, we have been investigating the allegded abduction of an FBI agent. Several reports have come across our desks, and yours fit the descriptions we have perfectly." Fisher nodded, understanding. "Those green lights, I saw them again not two nights ago. I bet you heard 'bout that, seeing as how I mentioned it on the ham, thinking maybe it was that aurora boree...that light thing. But.... "Mr. Fisher, what about the two boys..." "Matthew Hearne. He, well, I think he was abducted again. Lenny thinks so too, and nowadays you can't get Lenny to open the door, he's so scared. He just holes up in that house with his girl Patty. I'm scared too. They took Gwen, you know? I mean, what if they want me too? I told everybody she was dead, that she died on a trip we took to New York to see my brother. But she was gone before we could leave, disappeared into the field like those boys did." Fisher took a moment to wipe his brow. "The funny thing is this, though. About a year after she saw those boys go missing, Gwen told me she thought she had been abducted that night, too. That she had been returned as though nothing happened. I... I never believed her. Not till now." After getting an address for Lenny Ray and Patty ("McCarthy," Fisher had said. "Like the traitor.") and offering condolences to Harrison Fisher, Byers and Scully left the rundown farm and headed back for town. It was not yet noon, and Scully, despite getting very little sleep the night before, glowed with anticipation. Her mouth was set in a grim line, and Byers was glad he was driving. "Byers?" "Yeah." "Let's go to Lenny Ray's house now, instead of later." He sighed. "Scully, I don't know about you, but I need to eat something." "I can't eat. Not yet." She squinted out the window, almost as if she were looking for something...or for someone. "How about you drop me off at Lenny's and go get some food, then come back in an hour?" "I don't know, Agent Scully," Byers said, still uncomfortable using her title. "What if Lenny's violent, uncooperative?" Scully rolled her eyes. "Its not like I'm a weak, helpless little thing, Byers. I'm a big girl, and and FBI agent to boot." And I've seen things that would turn your hair white, she added silently. "Ok, Sc...Agent. I'll do it, just this once. But I have to look out for you, you know. He...he would want me to." This last part was almost silent, but Scully heard it anyway, and tears pricked her eyes in response. "I know....I know...." *X*X*X*X*X*X*X*XX*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*XX*X*XX Byers dropped her off in front of the Ray residence, not saying another word in protest. He told her he would be down the road at the diner they had seen, and would be back in an hour. He drove off, and Scully was left standing in the yard. The house was white, in need of paint and a new roof. The yard was only slightly disheveled, as if someone had gone on a little trip and would be back to trim and tidy it soon. A cat ran across the yard, and Scully realized with a shudder that it was a black cat. A black cat crossing her path on Friday the thirteenth. Scully nearly laughed aloud, hearing the thought and thinking that she was being a little too much like Melissa, or even too much like...him. She shook her head to clear it, and started forward. It was a damn good thing she wasn't superstitious. The porch was littered with newspapers, none of them more than two days old. Scully was beginning to wonder if Lenny Ray had indeed gone on vacation or a little trip, the darker possibilities never entering her mind. She decided to knock anyway. There was no doorbell, and the heavy oak door was open a crack. Heavy nickel-plated wind chimes played a forlorn tune above her head. Thunder crackled lowly in the distance, warning of the approaching rain. Scully could've sworn that the cat, now sitting on the porch, was staring her down. She suddenly felt trapped in an episode of "The Twilight Zone". The door creaked open a tad more. "Hello? Mr. Ray? I'm Special Agent Dana Scully, with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I have some questions I'd like to ask you about Matthew Hearne." She flashed her badge where he could see it, though he still had not poked his head out. The cat's eyes seemed to bore into her. "Mr. Ray?" Scully lifted her hand to knock again. "He ain't here." Scully put her arm down, a little surprised by the feminine voice coming from behind the door. "Where is he, Miss...." Scully struggled for a second. "McCarthy?" "Patty. He ain't here, and I don't know nothin' bout Matthew. He's gone, they both just disappeared." Disappeared. "Patty, could you open the door? I'd like to...." "I already told you, I don't know nothin'." "I'll determine that, Patty. Could we talk?" Patty seemed to think about it forever. The cat kept staring at Scully, its iridescent green eyes mocking her, taunting her. Thunder rumbled again to the south, and Scully could almost smell the rain that was coming. That cat kept staring, staring... "Ok." Patty opened the oak door wide, and Scully walked through the doorway, glad to be away from the cat. The house had the same feel as the yard had, like someone had recently left it for a short trip. The living room was littered with magazines and knitting supplies. Patty led Scully to the kitchen, where there was a half-empty bottle of milk on the table and a sinkful of dishes. Other than that, it was clean and cheerful. Only half as much could be said about Patty. "Would you like somethin to drink, Agent?" "I'm fine, Patty, thank you." "Is Matthew in trouble?" "No." "Is Lenny?" Her voice cracked as she asked. "No." "Why are you here?" Scully took a deep breath and sat down across from Patty at the formica table. Scully could hear a cuckoo clock proclaiming the hour of noon, and thunder still rumbling in the distance every three minutes or so. "Lenny was abducted as a child, am I right?" Patty's face went white. "You ain't here to make fun, are you? Cause it happened. It did." "No, I'm here..." "Lenny was eight when it happened the first time. Same as Matthew. Lenny used to tell me about it. But then he didn't. No one believed him. Matthew told him to shut up, that they'd lock him away again. But Lenny was right. And now they're both gone." Scully was taken aback by Patty's candor, just as she had been with Harrison Fisher. And she was more than a little disturbed by what Patty seemed to be saying. It confirmed Fisher's idea that abductees were being abducted, and that confirmed, or reaffirmed, what Scully and Mulder had thought in Bellefleur. But why Mulder? Why not Scully? She pushed it from her mind. "'Scuse me for a second. I have to take my vitamins." Patty got up and rummaged through a cabinet, pulling out three bottles. Scully got a good look at them while Patty swallowed a pill from each one. Folic acid, calcium, and iron. Scully blinked hard. "Patty?" "Mmm?" "Are you pregnant?" Patty swallowed more water. "Yes. Why?" Scully closed her eyes briefly, not wanting to think or say what she knew she was about to. "Is it Lenny's?" Patty was quiet for a few minutes, putting things away and finally coming back to sit down. She put her head in her hands, and Scully wondered if Patty had even heard her. "Yes." It was a small, scared voice. One of a woman who was pregnant with a child of a man missing. "Everybody thinks he ran out on me, and I'm not far along, just two months. He didn't even know." Scully held her breath, afraid of the rest because she had already learned it so well. Patty sighed. "He went missing two nights ago. He was abducted, same as Matthew was. I know it, Agent Scully. I didn't see it, but I heard old Fisher did. And it just makes sense. Twenty years ago, Mrs. Fisher saw it take them. And now, her husband does." "And you think it was..." "Aliens, Agent Scully. I know it was." "How do you know?" Scully whispered. "Lenny told me so. Agent Scully, are you all right?" Scully had turned the palest shade of white, and had begun to shake just slightly. "Fine, Patty. I'm fine." "Water. You need water." Patty fixed her a glass, and as she handed it to Scully, understanding came into Patty's eyes. "You." Scully looked at her. "What about me?" "It happened to you, didn't it?" "What happened?" "You were pregnant. By a man who got abducted by those aliens. Am I right?" Vertigo hit Scully hard, her mind reeling with information and memories. *Ms. Scully, I hate having to tell you this....* She gripped the table and got ahold of herself. "Yes." Patty nodded, sitting back down. "Same as me. Same as Darlene Winters. I bet if old Fisher were a woman, he'd be knocked up, too." "Who is Darlene Winters?" "Matthew's girl. Oh, they weren't married. They were just like me and Lenny. Everyone thought they were doing it for years. Darlene and me, though, we were just the only people Matthew and Lenny could talk to. It was just recently that...well...." Patty blushed a deep red. It all sounded too familiar to Scully. Too familiar. "Were you both, um. Infertile?" Patty blinked at Scully. "No. Why do you ask?" Scully didn't want to tell her. She could hear the cat mewing at the door, whining to be let in lest the approaching rain soak his jet black fur. She knew how that cat felt. "Because I was, Patty. And one day...well, and then he was gone. Abducted. Like Lenny, like Matthew. And so many others. I didn't find out until he was gone." Scully found it was easier to say it than she had first thought. It was Betsy Hagopian all over again. She found she was rubbing the back of her neck, almost unconciously. Patty nodded. "I found out this morning. And Darlene found out a month ago, not two days after Matthew...was taken." "Where is Darlene now?" Patty averted her eyes. "Dead." "Oh, I...I'm...." "Don't be," Patty whispered, the tears gone unshed still choking her as she fought them. "Darlene couldn't handle it. She never believed, not until this time. And it was too much for her. Death was a way to forget it, all of it." Scully felt herself sympathizing with the dead woman. She herself had never believed, even with all she saw. Mulder had proven her wrong, and the truth was so intense that Scully was shaken deeper than anyone knew or could guess. The cat mewed again, and both Scully and Patty turned to look at it. Green eyes stared back at them, daring them to continue this dark and unseemly discussion. As if the cat knew what would come of it, as if it foresaw trouble that the two women could or would not. It was more than a little upsetting, the hypnotizing, almost preternatural gaze of the cat set Scully's mind whirling. But she was practical, not superstitious. She was Scully, not Mulder. Mulder. Scully straightened herself, suddenly all business again. "Patty, here's my card. You can reach me on my cell if anything develops." Patty took the card and nodded. "It won't, will it, Agent Scully? There's no way to know. Lenny was so afraid, especially after Matthew was taken. He kept saying that there was a man after him, a man who could change faces." Scully stiffened. She reached into the pocket of her trenchcoat, assuring herself that the stiletto was still there. She had begun carrying it since the bounty hunter's appearance in Bellefleur. She would kill the son of a bitch if he dared show any of his faces to her. She would be prepared for vengeance. "I don't know if I believe that, but I know that Lenny wouldn'ta been so scared if this wasn't big." Scully nodded. "He wouldn't let me come to the field, you know. He wanted me to stay behind, in case they wanted me. He said he wouldn't let them take me." Scully closed her eyes. "Patty, why did he go out to the field that night?" "He said there was something out there. He said that this time, he would know." Patty sighed, tears streaming down her face. "I don't know what he meant." "Call me if you do, Patty." Outside, Byers was waiting for Scully. Rain was falling, soft and unsure. Patty called to Scully from the porch. "Agent Scully!" Scully turned around. "Yes, Patty?" She ran out to Scully, in the rain, barefoot. *And pregnant* Scully thought wildly. "Are they coming home, Agent Scully?" Tears fell faster than the rain. !*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!**!*!*!*!*!*!*!*! "This world....is more than anybody can stand." -- David Hearne, "The Seventh Age" *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 5:42 PM TUNKAHANNOCK BEST WESTERN Byers knocked on the connecting door that led into Scully's room. She had come back from talking to Patty McCarthy and said almost nothing. Byers was more than a little worried, and he actually called Frohike and Langly for a little advice. They all knew what to do for a depressed Mulder, but for Scully, they were clueless. And her depression was so new to them that they were confused by it. The miscarraige had been months ago, but she was still reeling from it. She was still in shock. And the search for Mulder was going nowhere. Byers took Frohike's suggestion and bought food. Scully always liked tofu on wheat. "Scully, I got you a sandwich." She didn't say anything. "Scully...." He walked through the door, worried about her. This was so unusual, so out of character. She was sitting at the desk, a few Kleenexes strewn over it, and it was obvious that she had been crying. She was holding something in her hand, and at close inspection Byers realized it was a make-up compact. With a broken mirror. Byers put the sandwich and drink on the nightstand. "Are you ok, Scully?" "Seven years bad luck. Can you believe it?" She sniffed softly and let out a bitter laugh. "Seven years. Does that mean seven years more of it, or does it just include the past seven?" Byers stood still, not wanting to upset her more. "I...uh...I don't know, Scully. I'm not very, um, superstitious." Scully laughed again. "Sure you are. We all are. Mulder was....is...." Her voice trailed off. "Its his birthday, Byers." Byers sighed, and sat down on the bed. "I know." "Friday the thirteenth." "Yeah." "Funny, huh. All these months and our first good lead comes on his birthday. Friday the thirteenth." "Lucky, I guess." "Unlucky, you mean." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Why, Byers? Why is this happening? Abductees are being abducted. Women are left behind, pregnant and scared. And Mulder..." "What about Mulder?" "He wasn't an abductee!" Her shout was enough to make him cringe, and she dropped the compact on the desk. "Byers, you know that. I was. He wasn't. Only abductees are being taken this time." "Scully...." "Please, don't, Byers. Don't. That's not...that's what he....You can't say it!" Byers sighed, not knowing what to say or even what to do. "I'm not him, and I know that. But he's not here." Scully pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and shook her head. "I know...." she whispered. "He's not here. He's out there, and we'll find him, I know we will." "I've failed him, haven't I?" She whispered it so softly that Byers had to strain to hear her. "I failed him. I am failing him." It became a chant, a frenzied, whispered chant. Byers didn't know what to do but sit there, reaching over to pat her shoulder every so often. He had held her during various times of grief in the past five months, but this wasn't grief. This was desolation. "You haven't failed him." "How can you say that? Its been five months. I have no more insight into his whereabouts than I did then. I...luh...lost...his....." Her breath became more ragged, hitched as she fought the words and struggled to say them at the same time. "I luh-lost his ch-ch-child!" She broke down then, tears coming faster and harder with each hitched-in breath. Byers decided that the only tactful thing to do would be to leave the room. The issue of her miscarraige was one that he, Frohike and Langly had decided not to discuss, not to approach. It hurt them as though they had already been favorite uncles, and they knew what it had to be doing to Scully, and what it would do to Mulder. They hadn't anticipated Scully blaming herself. And they hadn't expected Mulder to still be missing come October. Byers closed the door on a now-sobbing Scully. He had barely made it to the bathroom before breaking down in tears himself. *X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X* 7:17 PM Byers had come back into the room to find Scully quiet and studiously bent over the desk. He didn't want to disturb her and cause another scene, so he flipped on the television and laid on the bed. Neither spoke a word, but the silence was merely welcome. Scully wasn't sure she really wanted to stay in Tunkahannock for the night, but commuter flights on tiny sub-airlines out of the sticks are daytime only. She decided to stop thinking about him and to go over some paperwork on a case she was thinking about pursuing. She took her glasses off and heaved a huge sigh. The X-files were everything to Mulder, and she was fighting to keep them open. She preferred to do so alone, and Skinner had been able to keep the wolves at bay this long. But she had heard bullpen rumors that she was getting a new partner. Damnit, she had a partner. But she didn't want to think about that. Byers was stretched out on the bed, watching reruns of "Sabrina the Teenage Witch". Scully wondered if that was grounds to have him declared insane. Her thoughts wandered to Patty McCarthy. Scully's encounter with the woman was so eeriely reminiscent of her one with Betsy Hagopian that Scully wondered if it was fate trying to tell her something. She stood up and stretched, a yawn escaping her. It had been an emotionally exhausting day, and even now something was nagging at her. She walked over to the window, looking out at the full moon. Scully's brow furrowed as she noticed how large and how orange the moon looked. Something vague and old pierced her thoughts, something Melissa had once said about blood moons. Scully turned from the window, not a little shaken. It wasn't like her to be so superstitious. Her cell phone rang, loud and disturbing in the room. Byers jumped, and Scully dashed to the nightstand. "Scully." Her heart was pounding wildly. Mulder....it could be Mulder....he could be returned....they might have found him.... "Agent Scully?" It was Patty McCarthy. Disappointment laced Scully's reply. "Yes, Patty?" "I think you should know. Out at old Mr. Fisher's." "What's at Fisher's, Patty?" Scully raised her eyebrows at Byers, who merely shrugged. "Them. Agent Scully, I think you should see." Patty hung up. Scully looked at Byers, the haunted look coming back into her cloudy blue eyes. "Lets go." *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~*~*~* 7:31 PM The moon shone brightly and menacingly down on Byers and Scully as they drove to the Fisher farm. Neither one of them spoke, and neither reached to turn on the radio. This was not the time for idle chit-chat, and they both knew it. Neither knew what to expect once they reached the farm. Patty had been reluctant on the phone, and Byers had tried reaching Harrison's with no luck. They had contemplated calling the local sheriff, but Scully ultimately nixed the idea, knowing all too well that it would get them nowhere. "Look!" Byers' whispered awe broke the tense silence in the rented Ford as they approached the Fisher farm. Green light, dull and eerie, glowed from the field to the west of Fisher's house. In the center, it seemed to stop, as if an invisible craft were responsible for emitting such a light. A chill ran up Scully's spine. Byers parked the car on the side of the road as close to the field as he could get. Scully was less than surprised to realize that this was more because the car died than for distance purposes. Byers looked over at her, mouth open and eyes wide. "This is for real," he whispered, his voice rising at the end as if to ask for confimation. "Yes, very real," Scully replied, fear and awe gripping her heart. They got out of the car as quickly as possible, Scully managing to remember a flashlight, then throwing it on the ground in disgust when it didn't work. Both of them whirled around at the sound of a man yelling. "Get off me, get off me! Somebody help me!" "That's Harrison Fisher, isn't it, Scully?" Byers grabbed her shoulder for support. She tensed, suddenly aware that they were witnessing another abduction. "Byers...." "What?" "Patty....she said....she told me that Lenny had been afraid. That he thought a shapeshifter was after him." She turned to look him in the face. The realization of it sunk into Byers. "A bounty hunter?" Scully nodded. Byers closed his eyes shut. "Do you have a stiletto, Scully?" "Always." She reached into her pocket and pulled it out. "Lets get the bastard." They took off running through the field, tripping on clumps of dirt and discarded farming tools. Up ahead, Scully could see Fisher struggling with a man. A man she recognized all too well. "Federal agent! Let the man go!" "Scully!" Byers yelled as she darted ahead of him, the stiletto in her hand. He saw it before she did; Fisher and the bounty hunter that had him were caught in the force field of the ship. They were caught, ever so briefly, in thin air, shaking violently. Then they were gone. Scully stopped, nearly falling over. Gone. Rabbits and other small creatures ran in terror as the ground shook just noticably. All at once, the sky was filled with brilliant green light, and Scully screamed at the ship as it rose into the air, sudden loss and utter disappointment filling her. "No! Mulder!" Byers came up behind her, holding her by her violently shaking shoulders. She was inconsolable. "We lost him again, Byers. This was our chance." "There will be another chance, Scully." "No." "Yes." He held her then, wrapped in his arms. She took what comfort she could from him. "We need to talk to Patty McCarthy." Scully was quick to recover, as always. It wasn't pride; it was her nature. Byers nodded as he let her go. "I'm right here." Scully spun around to see Patty standing before her, bathed in the soft light of the blood red moon. "How did you know? How did you know that Fisher would be abducted?" Patty didn't hesitate to answer. "Because. The shapeshifter came to me as Lenny. He told me I had nothing to fear." She had been crying, and Scully could hear it in her voice. There were still tears to be shed. "What else did he tell you?" Scully walked over to Patty, and put her arm around Patty's shoulders. Byers stood back, wondering what Scully was doing. "That I would lose my child, because it was unfit. Abductees don't have kids. It makes things easier." "Hmmm." The faint click of the stiletto sounded in the silent night air. "Agent Scully, what are you doing?" A slow, bitter smile spread across Scully's face. "Putting you in your place." She plunged the stiletto into the back of Patty's neck. With a hiss, Patty clawed at Scully, green acid flooding out the back of her neck. "Byers, run!" Scully threw Patty to the ground and began to run, Byers following her. Behind them, the creature that had been Patty was being reduced to a bubbling puddle. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* "Agent Scully?" "Hmm?" "How did you know?" Scully looked out the window at the moon, its blood red color fading as it rose higher in the sky. She knew Byers would believe her, but part of her wanted to keep it close for awhile. "I just knew. I just knew." *~*~**~*~*~**~*~~*~*~**~~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~* 11:21 PM Scully only had a few burns on her hands, and one on her face. Nothing a little makeup wouldn't hide. She was emotionally drained. Not only had they not found Mulder, but they had proof that the abductions were still taking place. They had proof, and they had more definitive answers as to who would be taken. No answers, though, as to why. It was late, Scully thought as she looked at the nighttable clock. Byers had retreated to his room after Scully had tried calling Patty McCarthy's house. She knew that Patty had not really existed, that she was an alien from the beginning, but part of Scully didn't want to believe this time. She didn't want to be right. The thing in the field was a bounty hunter; a shapeshifter. Lenny Ray had been afraid of shapeshifters chasing him. Now Scully knew that those fears were justified. The evening had taken everything out of Scully, and she still found it possible to cry. Aliens were no longer something new, and therefore all Scully could find disturbing was how close she had been. Mulder was near, she felt that in her heart. But he was not *here*, and she was back to where she'd been that morning, in the cold and the fog. She curled up on the bed, wishing desperately for Mulder the way she did every night. It was the only time she could allow herself to think seriously about the child she had lost, to think of how that child had come to be. *She's hemmoraging* *Elevate her legs, NOW* *Blood...* *Three months pregnant* *Can we contact the father* *He's gone, there is no one, oh God why is this happening to me...* *Ms. Scully, I hate to tell you this* *Just tell me* *You've lost the baby, Ms. Scully* It was a blur of every possible nightmare for her. Even now, three months later, she wondered how it had happened, why it had happened. Mulder was gone. His child was gone. Scully was left to pick up the pieces. She looked at the burns on her hands, and thought about what she would do next. Her search was not over, no matter how many alien bounty hunters tried to tell her otherwise. *He would do it for me* ...knock, knock. "Yeah, Byers?" "Scul...um, Agent Scully." "I'm decent. Come on in." "Ok. I just got off the phone with Frohike." She looked at him. She knew where this was going. "There was another sighting." It wasn't a question. "Yeah." "Where?" "Jerome, Arizona." "Book it, Byers. For tomorrow morning." "Are you sure?" He gingerly touched the burn on her face. This was not a decision to be taken lightly, that touch said. She touched his wrist. Don't baby me, that touch said. "I'm sure." ******************************* THE END AUTHOR'S NOTES: I ended this rather abruptly, I know. But I think it was necessary. I was just trying to get across the desperation that Scully is feeling at this point. I am thinking about a sequel, or just a follow-up. In case you missed the reference, Harrison Fisher is named for Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher, the two actors who played Han Solo and Princess Leia in the original Star Wars trilogy. The two quotes I used are from Brandon Ray's "Past is Prologue" and David Hearne's wonderful post-colonization "The Seventh Age". Bet you are wondering bout the forum message at the beginning. I'm thinking that if the Gunmen had a forum, mostly it would be used by stupid kids, but the occasional good info would need to come that way. So, they'd have to have a code. :-) Bogey is obvious -- UFO. Moose is Mulder, but I think that one's pretty obvious! To my knowledge, the Horoscopes for the Superstitious website is my own invention and there is no such thing. Bunches of thanks are in order, first to the Rooty Poo Crew, as always. You guys really did help inspire this one, with the Twilight Zone train tracks and the eerie experience E. had with the recent blood moon. Another huge thanks to all those who responded to my other recent stories (Sound and Fury, Coming Home, Complete, and the WIP Boys' Club). Your encouragement on those vignettes and fluff pieces keep me going on the biggie projects. And, finally, to the writers of fanfic everywhere. In a community with such little recognition and so much stigma, I'm glad there are as many of us as there are. I recently completed a short film for a contest on "Good Morning America", the "I See Scary Movies" Contest. It is title "They're Here!" and it is about an alien abduction. The film is only 3 minutes long, and the two characters are named "Duane" and "Barry". Just thought you'd like to know!