REPOST: Trace Evidence 3: Say Goodnight (09/10), Saundra Mitchell
Vampyres Incorporeal
Title: Trace Evidence III: Say Goodnight (09/10)
Author: Saundra Mitchell
E-Mail: v...@netdirect.net
Feedback: Please!
Rating:R
Pastorville, Virginia
"Scully, will you please talk to
me?"
Periodically over the last two
hours, he'd tried the plea. Each time
she had refused, silently pressing
forward into the night. She hadn't
spoken a word since he'd tried to touch
her; instead, she spent her time staring
blankly out at the road in front of her.
Now he wished he had picked up the
folders.
"Watch for the lab," she ordered,
slowing down as they entered
Pastorville.
"What are we going to find there,"
he asked, sitting up to look out the
windows. All he could see were trees and
barbed-wire fences.
"Me. My truth."
Mulder raised an eyebrow. "What was
in the folder, Scully?"
Slamming on the brakes, Scully
snapped off the headlights of the car,
and threw it into park. She turned to
Mulder, her mouth folded into a neat,
flat line. "They raped me, Mulder."
His jaw dropped, and he leaned
forward. "What are you talking about?"
Struggling to put the words
together, Scully's eyes flashed from
side to side. "My genetic information,
the genetic information for my ova,
that's what was in those files. They
took me, took four months of my life,
took my eggs, took my. . . took my
child, and any chance to ever have
children of my own. . . they violated
me, Mulder!"
His first impulse was to embrace
her, but he knew he shouldn't, not with
the way she felt right now. To satisfy
his need to comfort her and still
respect her distance, he held out his
hand. Guilt pressed down on him, and he
could think of nothing to say to make
this better.
Slowly, she reached out and took
it. Tears gathered in her eyes, but they
didn't fall. "I have to find out. I have
to find out tonight, Mulder, before all
the evidence is gone. They took. . .
they took Emily away before . . . I have
to know."
"Okay," he whispered. "Okay."
Squeezing his hand, she tried to
force a smile to her face, but failed.
Putting the car back in gear and turning
the headlights back on, she slowly
pulled back onto the road.
Mulder knelt on the ground in front
of the door, wishing he'd brought the
lockpick from Langly's stockpile.
Standing over him with her gun drawn,
Scully watched for signs of a security
guard or the police. When he finally
jiggled the door open, they slipped
inside quietly.
The gentle hum of a generator
filled the building, and they walked
through the darkness carefully. They
both had penlights in their pockets, but
didn't dare turn them on. The lab's
entire south wall was glass, they were
noticeable enough without shining
flashlights around. Working their way
past what appeared to be an office, they
entered the interior of the building,
finding themselves in a long hallway.
They pushed at doors as they walked
along, and Mulder finally found one
open. Scully was a few feet ahead of
him, so he paused long enough to peer
inside. A faint glow caught his eye, and
he stepped inside. Following the light
to its source, he closed his eyes.
Incubation cylinders, like he'd seen
before in the Dimsdale Retirement Home,
filled with viscous fluid and embryos.
Fate drew him to read the tags on the
side. Scully, Dana Katherine.
"Mulder?"
He jumped, moving to stand in front
of the incubators. "Yeah?"
She stepped inside the room,
walking toward him. "What did you find?"
Shaking his head, he tried to
dissuade her from coming any closer.
"You don't want to know, Scully."
Pushing him away, disgust and
horror flickered across her features.
She knelt down to peer through the
glass. The tiny humanoid thing inside
the jar wiggled its webbed fingers, and
she had to fight the desire to vomit.
Catching sight of the tag, her nausea
grew when her name on the tag. Swaying
softly, she put a hand down on the floor
to steady herself, then looked up at her
partner. Revulsion was replaced by a
terrible realization when she saw his
drawn, tight expression.
"You knew," she said, the hair on
her arms standing on end.
"I didn't know how to tell you."
He couldn't have hurt her more if
he had slapped her. She backed away from
him, her head a swimming. "You son of a
bitch, you knew! How could you do this
to me?"
"Scully, I . . ."
"Don't even open your mouth," she
said venomously. "Don't you fucking
dare!"
"I wouldn't move if I were you,
either," a male voice said, the sound of
a slide being pulled back echoing in the
small room. Krycek stood behind Mulder,
a gun just a breath away from the
agent's head. "Put your hands up."
Pulling her gun, Scully pointed it
in their general direction. 'If you
slip, you'll kill your partner,' her
mind chirped helpfully. "Drop it."
Smiling maliciously, Krycek reached
into Mulder's holster, removing the gun.
"Why should I? He's not on your side
either, Agent Scully."
"I said drop it."
Putting an arm around the other
man's waist, Krycek bobbed his head back
and forth, pressing the weapon into the
soft skin behind Mulder's ear. "No."
"I said drop it," she screamed,
trying to find a shot, but there wasn't
one to find.
"Go away, Agent Scully. You've
served your purpose, now go home."
"My. . . my purpose?" She cursed
herself for saying it out loud. He was
just trying to confuse the situation.
"She doesn't care, Krycek," Mulder
sneered. "So if you're going to kill me,
just go ahead and do it."
Kicking the door behind him open,
Krycek pulled Mulder with him as he
backed out of the room. Suddenly, the
room was ablaze with a single, bright
muzzle flash and the deafening sound of
a gun firing.
Baltimore, Maryland
The Waterfront
Tim walked into the bar wearily,
but stopped short when he saw Frank at
one of the stools, chatting it up with
Munch. Half smiling, Tim took the stool
next to him, and let Munch pour him a
beer.
"Don't forget you're on this
weekend," Munch said, sliding the beer
to him. "I have plans." There was a
crash of dishes from the kitchen,
followed by Wendi's voice cursing
colorfully. Rolling his eyes, Munch
excused himself to investigate the
damage.
"What are you doing here so late,"
Tim asked, taking a sip of his beer.
"Waiting for you."
Bayliss looked over at his partner.
"Waiting for me?"
Folding his lower lip into his
mouth, Frank nodded. "Yep."
With a shake of his head, Tim
stared down into his drink. "So. . .?"
"Heard you went back to work today,
real work," Pembleton said softly. "I'm
happy for you."
"Yeah, thanks. You didn't come all
the way down here to congratulate me,
Frank."
Agreeing with a tilt of his head,
Frank frowned. "I've been working with
Munch while you were gone. Gotten kind
of used to it."
Tim's heart fell. "You don't want
to be my partner."
Smiling, Frank shook his head. "No,
that's not it. I _want_ to be Tim
Bayliss' partner."
"Here I am, Frank."
"Nope," Pembleton said coldly. "I
don't know who _you_ are."
Tim twisted on his stool, staring
into Frank's eyes. "You too?"
With a snort of disgust, Frank
pressed his tongue into his cheek. "This
has nothing to do with whom you sleep,
Bayliss. I don't care what goes on in
your bedroom. This has to do with who
you are. My partner, the one who trusts
me, and I trust, the one with the soul
that weeps for the dead, that man is
gone, and I miss him. I don't know what
you've gotten yourself tangled up in,
but it's changed you. Turned you into a
liar. I don't know you anymore."
Bayliss laughed, incredulous. "You
never knew who I was."
Picking his hat up, Pembleton slid
off the bar stool. "You'd be surprised
what I know. I thought about this all
night last night, lost sleep over you,
and I resent that."
"So you don't want to be my
partner," Tim repeated.
Frank shrugged. "I'm right here
when you're you again."
Holding up his hands, let himself
give up. "This is me, Frank. This is
it."
"Goodnight, Tim."
"I got shot, Frank! I got outed on
goddamned television! Half the
department won't even look me in the
face, and the other half wants me fired.
How am I supposed to stay the same,
huh?"
Turning swiftly, Pembleton leaned
in close. "You lied to me. You forced me
to lie to my family. That has nothing to
do with those bullet wounds or your
status as a bisexual-American. You wanna
believe that, you go right ahead. Add
yourself to the list of people you're
lying to these days, okay?"
Pastorville, Virginia
Taking a long drag off the
cigarette he held between his index
finger and thumb, The Cigarette Smoking
man smiled and dropped his gun on the
floor. Putting a gloved hand in his
pocket, he raised his eyebrows, enjoying
the shock on Mulder's face. Mulder tried
to disentangle himself from Krycek's
dying grip, scrabbling for a weapon.
Stepping out the back door, his
words filtered behind him."You still
don't know who your friends are, do you,
Agent Mulder?"
Finally pulling himself free, he
rushed for the door. Slamming it open,
he saw nothing but endless forest
surrounding the lab. In the distance, he
could hear the squeal of tired, and he
slumped against the doorframe. Defeated,
he turned around slowly to see Scully
standing over Krycek, watching him
gurgle out his last breath.
Despite her oath to the contrary,
she didn't even try to help him. She
witnessed his death dispassionately,
noting when the bubbles stopped forming
in the blood-foam on his lips and his
pupils finally settled in a fixed stare
at the ceiling. As if to reassure
herself, she ground the toe of her shoe
into his sternum, looking for any
reaction. Nothing. Reaching into her
pocket, she pulled out a latex glove and
checked his pulse, just in case.
Nothing. The man who'd murdered her
sister, and tried to murder her was well
and truly gone. He would not be rising
from the dead.
Turning on her heel, Scully walked
back through the laboratory, not
bothering to see if Mulder was
following.
Washington, D.C.
J. Edgar Hoover Building
The sun was rising when they
finally arrived back at work. Parking in
the space assigned their car, Scully
handed Mulder the keys as she got out.
Shutting the door behind her, she
started to make her way toward her own
car, when Mulder called out to her.
Turning slowly, she stared at him
expressionlessly.
"Yes?"
"What I've done is unforgivable,"
he began.
She didn't let him finish. "Yes, it
is."
"Scully. . ."
"Don't say my name, Mulder. Forget
you ever knew it. This is over. For me,
it's all over. When you said. . . when
you said trust no one, I didn't realize
that meant me, too. Good luck. I hope
you find whatever your truth is."
"Please," he choked, taking a step
toward her.
She shook her head, and walked away
from him. "Goodbye, Fox."
Watching her disappear, he
remembered the first time she'd tried to
call him by his given name. She had been
trying to reach out to him- he had
pushed her away. 'How beautifully
parallel,' he thought, unable to realize
the real depth of the irony just yet.
Later
"Agent Scully has asked to be
reassigned," Skinner said, walking into
Mulder's office. "Is there a problem?"
Staring blankly at his superior,
Mulder shook his head. "No sir."
"You'll need a partner."
"Yes sir."
"Agent Mulder, is there anything
you want to tell me before I consider
her request?"
"No sir."
Hesitating at the door, Skinner
shook his head. "Is there anything you'd
like to tell me off the record?"
Pulling a file out of the cabinet,
Mulder opened it and smiled emptily. "No
sir, thank you."
(End Part Nine)