Spirit of Friendship (1/16) by Jason Cleaver (argo@easynet.co.uk) and Barbara Nice-Miller (SpookyJedi@aol.com) DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and related characters don't belong to us. If they did, we'd be rich. They do belong to Chris Carter, FOX, & 1013. And they are. Life isn't fair! Anyone else belongs to us, or in Lili's case, to the collective unconscious. CLASSIFICATION: X RATING: This story is rated 'R', for swearing, implied sex, violence and disturbing imagery. AUTHOR'S NOTES I started reading X-Files Fan-Fic in December 1995. I came up with a few ideas for stories, eventually writing and posting the first chapter of Spirit of Friendship to this list to see what people thought. In April 1996, I started trying to write it on my own, and failed. Then I met Barb, she agreed to be my writing partner, and the rest, as they say is history. All I know is, I could not have written this without her! It's taken 9 months to write this, and it does feel like we've given birth or something! Now, I'm gonna let Barb get a word in... A big, big "Thank You" to Jason for asking me to be his writing partner on this. This was a new experience for me, but I couldn't have asked for a better, more patient, co-writer. Especially when we had to put this on hold for 3 months when I went off-line unexpectedly. But 16 chapters later and we're finished! And how could I forget all of our faithful beta-readers? Melissa, Nat, Rhondda....and all the rest of you, thank you so much for your valuable input and proofreading, we really appreciate it. We would really really like feedback on this! Good, bad, whatever, just tell us what you think, we won't be offended or upset. Just two things: When it came to Native American tribal myths, rituals and so forth, I (Jason) made it up. Plus we may also have misjudged the size of Rapid City a bit Oh, we almost forgot. This is an Alternate X-Files Universe, one in which Melissa survived getting shot. ********************************************** Chapter 1/16 Comdex Mine #2356, Black Hills, South Dakota Monday, March 11th The tunnels were silent, dark, dead. No life moved within but deep down, something stirred. And waited. Jack Bishop adjusted the light on his helmet and hefted the huge flashlight he carried in one hand. Why the hell Comdex had bought this old mine was beyond him. Oh he'd heard the spiel by his boss about the possibility of there still being untapped resources down here somewhere. He knew that was how Comdex made its money; buying old disused mines, and somehow finding any minerals that the previous owners had been unable to extract the first time. He'd been down other mines for Comdex before now, and hit paydirt each time. But he and his team had been over almost all of this crazy network of tunnels and had found no sign of anything useful anywhere. Well, Comdex would just have to accept... "Mr. Bishop!" The voice came from up ahead, echoing through the tunnels. Bishop followed the sound of the voice, finally coming upon the main lift shaft. Beside it stood the youngest member of his team, Billy Cumin, all of 25 years old, fresh out of college and on his first job for Comdex. "What is it, Billy?" Bishop asked patiently. "We found something, Sir! On the bottom level!" Billy exclaimed. Bishop stepped onto the lift platform with the young man, who pulled the lever, sending the lift down with a sharp jolt. "What did you find, Billy?" Bishop asked. "In one corner of the bottom level sir, we hit a strike." Bishop smiled. <> He thought. <> The lift jerked to a stop at the bottom and Billy led Bishop through the maze of tunnels into a much wider area that looked like a natural cavern. Bishop stopped at the entrance and stared in astonishment at the sight before him. The walls, floor and ceiling of the cavern were dotted with rich mineral deposits. In one alcove to his left, Bishop saw a thick streak of gold, in another tin. Over to the right, crystals poked out of the wall and ceiling. As Bishop looked around, his mind almost overwhelmed at the richness of the find, he saw the rest of his team clustered around an area of the cavern opposite from where he stood. Quickly he strode over to see what they were looking at. It was a door. No large, no wider than the front door of his home, but made of iron. It was tightly fitted into the hole made for it, and had three thick bars holding it tightly shut. "What the hell is that?" Bishop asked. "We don't know," A man named Vess replied. "This is how we found it." "Well get it open," Bishop snapped. "If it's like this out here, god only knows what's in there!" The men began lifting the bars off, while Bishop himself inspected the padlock holding the handle down. Inside, something waited. * * * * J. Edgar Hoover Building Wednesday, March 13th Scully entered the basement office after a long afternoon in the autopsy bay. She'd done a consult for another case and had found considerable trace evidence for the investigators. When she'd left Mulder, he was making reluctant inroads into the vast pile of paperwork on the disaster area that he called his desk. Scully had no idea how he ever found anything on it, but he could always produce anything she asked for. Mulder was still in the office, but he was not sorting through paperwork. He was leaning back in his chair, feet up on the desk, so engrossed in a file that he didn't hear her come in. "I hope that isn't the 'Adult Video News'," Scully commented with a smile. Mulder jerked in surprise, almost toppling the chair over. He regained his balance quickly, but not before spilling several files to the floor, mixing their contents liberally underneath the desk. Mulder cursed and crouched down to pick up the mess, joined by a laughing Scully. It was the work of moments to get the files in the right order and back on the desk. "Thanks, Scully," Mulder said, sitting back down again. "What was in that file?" Scully asked. Mulder gave her a big grin. "Oh, you're just going to love this one!" He said cheerfully. "Is it an X-File?" Scully asked curiously. Mulder nodded. "On Monday, a group of surveyors and engineers were sent down an abandoned mine in South Dakota to see if it could be reopened for mining. 6 hours later, out of a 15 man team, only one made it to the surface, babbling on about ghosts and demons." "Ghosts and demons." Scully repeated raising one eyebrow. Mulder's smile grew wider. "A rescue team went down to search for the remainder of the team, and managed to find them." "In what condition?" Scully asked. "Dead." Mulder replied. "But no discernible cause of death could be found for any of them." Scully regarded her partner for a long moment. She'd worked with him long enough to know that he hadn't told her the whole story yet. She knew this, just as she knew she wasn't going to like it when he did tell her. "And?" she asked. "And what?" Scully gave him the Look. "What's the rest of it, Mulder?" she asked patiently. Mulder straightened. "The survivor, Billy Cumin, says the demon in the mine ate their souls." There was a long pause as Scully stared down at the file in Mulder's hand. Then she sighed. "When's the flight?" Mulder handed her an airline ticket. "Tomorrow morning at 8. Need me to pick you up Doctor Spengler?" "Sure thing, Venkman." Scully replied poker faced Mulder started humming the Ghostbusters theme music as Scully left, bringing a smile to her face. * * * * Scully let herself into her apartment and closed the door behind her, leaning back against it with a sigh. She kicked off her shoes and dropped her briefcase on the floor. She was surprised how tired she felt; while doing the autopsy she'd been so focused on the body that the exhaustion that had dogged her from the moment she'd woken up had faded away. But now it was back with a vengeance. After a long shower to at least wake her up, she was back in the kitchen, preparing a simple meal; she was too tired to take too long over it. As she walked back to the couch carrying plate and glass, her eyes fell on the darker patch of floor by the front door. She'd scrubbed for hours to try and get the stain out, even hired professionals to have a go, but despite their best efforts, as well as her own, the patch of stained wood still remained. Like a brand, reminding her of the price she'd paid for the path she walked on. Mulder had paid his own price; holding his father in his arms, watching him die. Dana felt hers was harder, because she saw and spoke to results of hers almost every day. Sometimes, in a dark part of her soul, she wished it had turned out differently. As always the thought filled her with shame. She reached out for the phone, dialed a number, listened to it ring. It was picked up after only five rings. "Hey, Dana!" The voice was full of amusement and Dana once again wondered how she could sound so cheerful. "Hi, Missy," she replied. "How'd you know it was me?" "Just had Mulder on the phone, canceling the cinema trip tomorrow; I figured you'd be calling soon." "That predictable, huh?" Dana leaned back into the sofa, getting comfortable. "'Fraid so," Her sister's voice was grinning. "The both of you always sound so guilty when you have to cancel any trips." "I guess." Dana replied quietly, her eyes staring at the dark patch. There was a pause. "Stop it Dana." Melissa's voice sounded almost angry. Dana sat up. "Stop what?" "Feeling guilty," her sister replied. "It wasn't your fault!" Dana rested one arm over her eyes, holding the phone with the other. "Then who's is it?" She heard the sigh over the phone. "How many times do I have to say this?" Melissa's voice sounded frustrated. "You are not responsible for my being shot, Dana. If you have to blame anyone, blame the guy who fired the gun!" "If I'd have made Mulder give the tape back..." Dana started, not sure how they'd come onto this topic. It was an old one, and one that had been covered many times. She found it difficult to believe that Melissa didn't blame her, but her older sister didn't blame anyone for the shooting, except the shooter. "If you phoned to wallow in guilt at me, Dana Katherine, I'm hanging up!" The amusement was back in her voice. Dana smiled. "Sorry." "Good. Now when you get back from playing Ghostbusters, we can re-arrange that trip, Ok?" "Ok." Dana said. "Night." "Night Dana." * * * * Comdex Mine #2356, Black Hills, South Dakota Thursday March 14th Scully played her Maglite along a length of tunnel and sighed. They'd been down here for almost an hour now, exploring every level of the maze of tunnels, and they had yet to find anything remotely resembling a ghost, or a demon for that matter. All they had found was rock, more rock and dirt tunnels. Mulder of course seemed to be perfectly content to wander through, consulting the map at regular intervals. Finally she had to say something. They were approaching one of the larger halls when she stopped him. "Mulder, this is ridiculous!" Mulder stopped and turned. "What's wrong, Scully?" She blinked at him. "What's wrong? We've been walking through this mine for an hour and all we've found is rock and dirt! No ghosts, no demons, nothing..." Mulder started to smile, but she cut him off. "and no, that doesn't mean that I will even consider the possibility that such things exist. This is all a huge waste of time!" Mulder opened his mouth to reply when the ceiling gave a long tortured groan. Both agents looked up and saw that the ceiling had started to sag alarmingly. Another groan filled the air. Mulder started to run for the gallery. Scully made to follow, but rock and dirt started to fall, so she turned and started to run the other way. Mulder was almost to the gallery when a piece of rock struck him on the leg. He gritted his teeth against the pain and dived forward, just as a piece of rock struck his head, sending him into unconsciousness. Scully ran down the tunnel. The ceiling seemed to be coming down in waves, following on from the original spot. She was keeping ahead, when she stumbled on an outcropping from the floor and fell forward with an impact that drove the breath from her body.... * * * * "Mulder! Wake up!" Scully's voice punched through the fog of Mulder's dizziness and brought him back to full wakefulness. He was lying on the floor of the tunnel, surrounded by rocks of all shapes and sizes. His leg had a bandage wrapped around the lower half of it, and it ached gently. Scully however, seemed to be fine, only a couple of smears of dirt on face and hands, and a small patch of blood at her hairline. She was giving him her familiar "what-am-I-going-to- do-with-you" look. She'd been behind him in the tunnel and had obviously managed to find another way around to his position. "How long have I been out?" he asked, getting to his feet. Scully sighed. "I'm not sure," she replied. "I took a while to get around the blocked tunnel, so I'd say at least half an hour or so." She shook her head. "Next time we go tunneling Mulder, make sure it's safe will you? And we haven't seen any sign of these so-called ghosts we came here to find!" Mulder dusted himself off and looked down at his partner. "I think someone up there hates me, Scully." "Oh?" "Yeah. I get knocked out and hurt my leg and you don't have a scratch on you!" Scully glanced upwards, indicating her forehead and the dried blood. "Oh really?" "Doesn't count." "Feels like it does. Can you walk?" He could and a few minutes later, the two agents were heading back down Scully's improvised route. Eventually they came back to the rock fall again. The tunnel was indeed well and truly blocked here, but fortunately the way out seemed to be unaffected. As they turned down the right tunnel, Mulder's flashlight reflected on something in the pile of rocks. "Scully, look!" he said, making his way down to the blockade. "What is it?" Scully asked, coming back. The reflective surface was a watch, attached to a wrist. The hand was curled upwards. Scully reached out and grasped the wrist, looking for a pulse. "They're alive!" she exclaimed. Without a word, the two agents began to shift rubble carefully, taking care not dislodge any further falls, but attempting to dig out whoever this was. Neither of them had any idea who it could be; Scully hadn't seen anyone else on her headlong dash from under the falling ceiling, nor could she remember being followed. Mulder briefly entertained the thought that it was someone from the level above and mentioned this to his petite partner. Scully agreed it sounded likely. Eventually they cleared enough debris to reveal arms, head and upper torso. The face was turned away, and it was Scully who bent over the still figure to shine a penlight in the eyes. However, when she looked into the face of the woman beneath the debris, her face went a deathly white. As she staggered backwards, the flashlight and smaller penlight fell from her hands. Mulder went to his partner, worried by her reaction. "Scully, what's wrong?" For an answer, Scully, still shocked and trembling, pointed at the trapped woman. Mulder moved to crouch over the trapped woman, concerned and confused at Scully's strange behavior. Gently, he turned the woman's face towards him, and for one long second almost forgot how to breathe. Dana Scully stared sightlessly up at him. *************** END CHAPTER 1 -------------------------------------------------------- Spirit of Friendship (2/16) by Jason Cleaver (argo@easynet.co.uk) and Barbara Nice-Miller (SpookyJedi@aol.com) Disclaimed in Chapter 1 *************** CHAPTER 2 Mulder drew in a sharp intake of air and staggered back slightly from his partner's debris-trapped body, confusion and a bit of terror written across his features. Spinning around, he searched for Scully, finding her pressed up against the far wall of the tunnel, staring at her own body just a few feet away. Then, to his horror, right before his eyes, Dana Scully began to disappear. One minute she was a solid form, and the next, he could see *through* her body to the rock wall behind her. And as each second ticked by, the fainter her image became. He was losing her. Scrambling across the dirt floor, Mulder jumped forward and grabbed her arms. He could still feel her, but she'd lost firmness, as though if he squeezed hard enough, his hands would go straight though her. Shaking her slightly, he tried to get her attention. "Scully! Scully, look at me!" But her gaze was fixed firmly on her body. "NO!" she burst out, "This isn't happening, this isn't happening, I'm dead, I'm dead!" The hysteria was evident in her voice. "Scully, stop it!" he cried, his own panic starting to rise. What if she was.....? <> he berated himself. He tried one more time, gritting his teeth and trying to ignore the fact that his hands were starting to slide into her now. "Scully, listen to me! Calm down! You're not dead! But you've got to get ahold of yourself or I *will* lose you!" His words finally broke through the fog in her mind and she turned to stare up at his face, then down at his hands, which were now partially in her arms. Her eyes cleared, then widened in shock at the sight, and she jerked backwards slightly, becoming solid once again under Mulder's grip. Her gaze went to his face once more. "Mulder?" she said, as though seeing him for the first time. Mulder relaxed and released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "That was too close," he replied with a smile. Scully frowned at him. "What was?" "You were fading away right in front of me, Scully. For a second I thought I might lose you," he said quietly. Scully was about to reply when she caught sight of her body trapped in the rockfall. Mulder's heart lept to his throat as her form wavered once again, but it soon stabilized. When she looked back at him, her eyes were full of confusion. "What in the world is going on, Mulder? What's happening to me?" Mulder sighed. "I don't know," He replied. "What happened when the ceiling fell in?" Scully frowned. "I ran," She said finally, "I was outpacing the fall, when I tripped over a rock and fell. I think the impact must have knocked me out, because the next thing I know, I'm lying just there.." She pointed at a spot just in front of the edge of the fall, right in front of her body. "..I got up, and tried to find a way around, which was how I found you." "You didn't have the map though," Mulder said. "How did you find your way around without it?" Scully shrugged. "I have no idea, Mulder! Now what are we going to do? What am *I* going to do?" "First thing we do," Mulder replied, "Is get clear the rest of the rocks away from your body, and get it to the hospital to find out what happened." "And then?" "I don't know." "Thanks Mulder, I feel *so* much better knowing you're in charge!" she said sarcastically. He just grinned at her, then reluctantly released his hold on her arms, fearing if he did so, she would start to vanish once again. But to his relief, she remained solid. He turned away from her and began walking back towards the rock fall. Scully paused momentarily, steeling herself, then followed after him. Mulder began quickly removing the remaining rocks and dirt from the legs of Scully's body, as Scully reached down to check the pulse one more time. At Scully's startled gasp, Mulder jerked his head toward her. "What?! What's wrong?" "My--my hand! It went right through..." she trailed off. "Right through what?" Instead of answering him, she elected to show him. She reached down to grasp the wrist of the body lying on the rocks....and her hand slid right through. Then she tried to pick up a rock, with the same result....her hand passed right through it. A new wave of panic engulfed her and her form wavered a bit. Mulder was quickly at his partner's side. "Calm down, Scully. Here, touch me." Hesitantly, she reached out a hand to lay it on Mulder's arm, and was rewarded with the feel of his flesh solid beneath her touch. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. But then her brows knitted in confusion. Mulder voiced her question for her. "I know, I know. Why can you only touch *me*? And the answer is, Scully...I have no idea." "Please, Mulder. Let's just get out of here." Giving her hand a squeeze, he nodded. "Why don't you start walking ahead and make sure the way is clear. I'll finish up here." Without a word, Scully turned and started out of the mine, her mind still reeling with the strange events of the day. His own mind swirling with questions, <> Mulder cradled Scully's unconscious body against his chest and walked out of the mine, determined to find the answers. * * * * Indian Reservation The car skidded on the muddy road, it's back end seeming to float to one side, it's front tires following. Mary Running Deer cursed and with a practiced motion and managed to stop the skid before it started. There wasn't time for it; she had to get to the others and tell them what had happened. The knowledge lay like a stone in her stomach, pulling at her, sending deep thrills of fear through her body. Karen Silver Stream looked out of the wide window and saw the old battered vehicle slipping down the track, it's owner pushing much faster than was safe. Worry bloomed in her; Mary should be at the mine, watching. Why was she here? "Who is it?" Stacy Walks With A Fist asked from the table, where she was carefully threading beads onto a leather strap. "Mary." Karen replied. "She's coming too fast." Stacy looked up. "Mary? She should be at the mine!" The two women stepped outside as Mary finally brought the car to a sliding stop, pushing open the door even before the vehicle had stopped. The two women saw her expression of near panic and their fear deepened. "Mary, what's wrong?" Karen asked. "Two whites went in the mine," Mary replied, coming around the car, managing to keep her balance in the mud. "A man and a woman!" Karen went cold as the fear exploded. <> "What else, Mary?" Although she could guess. Oh, but she wanted to be wrong... "They were down there about 2 hours, then the man came out carrying the woman's body, but the woman walked beside him too." Karen stared, and a kernel of hope poked it's head through the seething panic. "Beside him? Her spirit was separate?" Mary nodded. "Yes! It's just like old Gentle Spring Rain said! Could it.." Karen interrupted her. "Maybe." She said quietly. "But we still need to find where they've gone. If they have gone to the City..." She sighed. "The whites have all but destroyed our culture, taken our lands, broken our people, and now we must save them. I only hope they live to appreciate the irony!" She turned back to the cabin. "I'll go see if she's awake. You two keep going with the work. Our time just ran out." * * * * Melissa almost dropped the cup as the phone rang. She had been hit by a feeling of dread a couple of hours ago; nonspecific at first, but she'd managed to narrow it down to something to do with family. She reached out for the receiver, picked it up. "Hello?" There was a pause. "Missy? It's Mulder." Melissa went cold. <> "Mulder? What's wrong with Dana?" There was a pause. Missy knew that her sister's partner was not sure how she got her sudden flashes of insight, and she'd been careful not to tell him. The last thing she needed was for Fox Mulder to start getting all excited over her and want to start running tests. She knew what she could and couldn't do, and she wasn't about to let Mulder in on it. Dana didn't know either, for very different reasons. "There was a cave-in," he said finally, "She's OK, but unconscious; the doctor's are trying to find out why." Melissa hesitated for a moment. She had to be there. She didn't know why, but she was certain of it. "I'll be there as soon as I can." she said, wheeling towards the bedroom. Now where did she put that suitcase"? "No," Mulder said, "There's no--" "I'll call you back with the flight arrival time." Missy interrupted, and thumbed the off switch. Then re-connected and called the booking desk. * * * * Rapid City Regional Hospital Special Agent Dana Scully watched the activity around the bed. They were good doctors, trying out every possibility, not discounting anything. The patient was getting the best possible treatment she could get. The patient. So much easier to think of it that way, rather than the truly frightening truth; you are standing in a hospital room with various medical staff and machinery, all trying to figure out why your body won't wake up. But that isn't the worst. The worst part is the fact that while you're standing there, people are moving *through* you, not seeing you. Why would they? It's not as if you're alive or anything. You're just a-- what? A Ghost? Dana smiled mirthlessly. There, she'd said it. Ghost. Spirit. Poltergeist....Spook. That last brought a smile to her face for a moment. But only a moment. I'm not dead, Mulder was right about that. But what am I? My body is lying on the bed, no more than 4 feet away. The monitors all show activity; by any medical definition I should be awake and sitting up. But this is beyond medicine isn't it? Where in the books does it say anything about body and soul being separate? So this couldn't be explained by medicine or.... Or science. Oh. Oh God. Ohgodimdeadimdeadthereslifeafterdeathmuldersrightive beenwrongallthistimeitsalltruedaddyhelpmewhatdoido whatdo... NO! Take it slowly. One step at a time. One. That's my body on the bed. It's alive, breathing normally. Superficial bumps and bruises. Two. I'm standing beside it. It's nothing like any out-of-body experience in any X-File or book. Which I never believed anyway. These are the facts Doctor Scully. What is the diagnosis? I don't know Doctor Scully. Have you tried getting back in? How? Dana looked down at her body, then climbed onto the bed, or at least walked through it, to stand close to her body. Then she reached out and touched herself. It's like touching quicksand. My hand goes in slowly. So, let's go to the next stage. She managed to climb up on herself, feeling the 'buoyancy', laying face down on her body. OK. I'm on top. But not going in. Try pushing down. It's working! Slowly, slowly, she sank into her body, turning herself around so she faced the ceiling now. I'm coming back! It's working, it's.. NO! There was no warning. One minute she was sinking slowly into herself, the next, she was halfway across the room, flying through equipment, and personnel. * * * * Mulder paced up and down in the waiting area. Melissa had called back a minute ago with the flight time, asking him to pick her up at the airport. He had a suspicion that Melissa had known that something was wrong with her younger sister, but he'd seen no evidence of any psychic ability from her. But something deep inside kept at him about it, but he hadn't pried. If Missy wanted to tell him, she would. But he.... Doctor Helman pushed through the doors and came towards him. After a moment, his partner followed him; for a long moment Mulder was filled with joy. She was OK! But it was dashed almost immediately when a passing nurse walked through her without even noticing she was there. Helman stopped in front of the FBI Agent. "Did you get through to Agent Scully's family?" He asked. Mulder nodded. "Her mother is on a cruise and can't be reached. I called her sister and she's coming. How is she?" Helman sighed. "We don't know." He admitted. "She has superficial bumps and bruises, her vital signs are all within normal parameters; she should be awake. The only thing abnormal about her is the brain-waves; they are lower than I would like, but that doesn't explain why she isn't awake. All we can do is keep her comfortable and wait for her to wake up. We've moved her to a private room; just ask one of the nurses and they'll tell you where." He moved off and Scully came forward. "It's true Mulder," She said. "I saw all the results myself." "Could they have missed something?" Scully shook her head. "They were very thorough." Mulder looked at her. "Are you OK?" He could have hit himself; of course she wasn't OK! But there was something about her at the moment... Scully looked up at him. "I tried to get back in Mulder, but I couldn't. I was pushed away!" She wavered again, causing Mulder a moment's worry. "It's my own body and it won't let me in!" Mulder wanted to give her a hug, but settled for a squeeze of the shoulder. That was going to look weird enough as it was. "I called Melissa; she'll be at airport in a few hours." Scully looked up at him. "She's coming here? Why?" "I don't know. I tried to tell her there was no need, but she was pretty insistent!" Scully smiled. "Trying to tell Melissa not to do something she wants to do can be an exercise in futility," She commented. "I noticed." Mulder looked down at his partner. "D'you want to go wait for Missy or hang around the hospital?" * * * * Melissa had always liked flying, but since the shooting there were now advantages. Like getting off the plane first for one, but she always hated people pushing her when she preferred to do it herself. Finally getting away from the irritatingly helpful flight attendant, she pushed herself through customs and into the arrivals area. Mulder was almost impossible to miss; there weren't that many people around, but even if there had been, she would have been able to feel the waves of guilt and sorrow, even with her Sight off. As she had discovered to her cost, 'turning it on' in public places was a quick route to a migraine. "How is she?" Was her first question as she brought the chair to a stop in front of him. "Still out." Came the reply. "Need a push?" "I haven't lost the use of my arms," Melissa replied, and started the wheelchair moving again. She hated anyone trying to push her, as though she as some sort of invalid! She had to put up with it from airlines, and hospital staff, but anyone else got pushed away. Mulder walked beside her, as always admiring her courage. Anyone else, after being shot in the head and waking up to discover that their legs didn't work might have given up. It had been a struggle just to get her to agree to move in with her mother! But Melissa hadn't stopped there. She did regular exercise with her legs, keeping them supple and firm, and built muscle in her arms so she could push herself around. Although, Albert Hosteen had helped a lot too. When Melissa had woken up, he'd helped her come to terms with the loss of her legs. Mulder suspected that Albert had worked some of the magic that had brought him back from the dead. They moved through the terminal quickly. Mulder wasn't saying much, which didn't worry Melissa; he never seemed to want to say much when he was worried. Almost as though all his energies were focused on the problem at hand. As well as taking all the guilt onto himself; She almost had him convinced that the shooting wasn't his fault, even indirectly. She wasn't sure she bought into the conspiracy theory that he'd told her about, but Dana seemed to believe it. Which was a reason to at least take it seriously. Dana didn't.... The sensation that had been nagging at Melissa ever since she'd met Mulder finally got on her nerves. It was familiar, as though someone close to her was very nearby. She usually only got that with family. They were in the parking lot by now, with few people around, so she focused on the Sight. It always gave her a thrill to be able to see people on two levels; the physical and the spiritual. Their auras were always a great source of information; telling her the state of health of the person, their feelings and so much more. There was Mulder's aura, with it's overlaying blanket of general depression and anger, shot through with worry, a faint disbelief and a lot of tiredness. Melissa guessed that he hadn't slept since the morning, and it was getting on for midnight. She'd get him to take her to the hospital then send him off to get some sleep.... What the hell!? Melissa stopped dead. Walking beside Fox (sorry, Mulder) was another aura, one that she knew as well as her own crippled body. But it was impossible! Dana was in the hospital; how could she be here? Mulder had said that she was alive but in a coma; could he have been shielding her from the truth? Scully turned and saw her sister staring straight at her. "Mulder!" She gasped. "Missy can see me!" Mulder turned. "She can?" He said out loud. Melissa blinked. Mulder could see Dana too? And hear her! "Mulder what's going on? Why can I see Dana's spirit here and not in her body?" Mulder gave her a twisted smile. "It's a looong story!" "I'm listening." They found the car, and Mulder told her the whole tale on the way to the hospital. By the end, Melissa was shaking her head. "That doesn't make any sense." She commented finally. "What doesn't?" Mulder asked. "For a start Dana being thrown out of her body like that and not being let back in! That doesn't happen; or at least it shouldn't. But that isn't the weird part." Melissa sighed. It was time to tell the whole truth about what she could do. "Mulder, I'm going to tell you some things, and I don't want you to interrupt till I'm finished, OK?" Mulder nodded. "When I woke up from the shooting, I discovered that I could see people's auras. An aura is a reflection of someone's spirit or soul, it's a true reflection of their state of being. Albert helped me control and use my new gift; he was helping me in many more ways than just getting me back on my feet again. He also told me a lot about spirit lore. See, a spirit is bound to its body, and if it becomes separate from the body and cannot get back, it will move on to the next level after a short while..." "How long?" Mulder asked, simultaneously with Scully. "A couple of hours, six at the most. But before then, the spirit becomes weaker and weaker, unable to sustain itself in this plane of existence. Dana should have moved on by now, and you certainly shouldn't be able to see and hear her, much less touch her!" Melissa frowned. "Albert did mention that were circumstances under which a spirit can become bound to something apart from it's body, but he didn't tell me what they were. I got the impression that some kind of close bond between spirit and whatever it is bound to is necessary. And I'm not just talking about ordinary friendship or love, I'm talking something exceptional!" She glanced at Mulder. "When you drop me off at the hospital, I'll call Albert and ask him." "Where am I going?" Mulder asked. "To get some sleep." Melissa replied. "You're so tired, I'm surprised you can still walk, much less drive!" "My aura?" Melissa nodded. "Go get some sleep, Fox, you need it. Come back tomorrow with a clear head; Albert will be here by then and we can figure this out. And take Dana with you; the further away from you she is, the greater the likelihood that the link between you will fade. And then she will." * * * * They arrived at the hospital a few minutes later. Mulder pulled the car up in front of the door and retrieved Melissa's wheelchair from the trunk. As Melissa pushed herself to the doors, Mulder told her what room number Scully's body was in. "Thank you, Fox. I'll be fine from here. Now go back to the hotel," she said with a small smile. "Wait, before you go," he stopped her, reaching in his pants pocket to withdraw a key. "I booked you a room at our hotel. Call me when you're ready to leave or if anything changes." "I will. Now go," she replied, motioning towards the car with her hand. Mulder glanced over his shoulder to where Scully stood silently next to the passenger door. "Melissa, I know you and I have had our differences in the past, but I do appreciate you being here, for Dana's sake." "You're welcome. I'd do anything to help my sister." And with that she wheeled herself into the hospital lobby. Mulder watched her go for a moment before turning and walking back to the car. Scully was already inside, starting at her sister's retreating form when he reached the car door. He got in and glanced over at his partner, who was still staring out the window, even though she could no longer see her sister. There was something about the way she was sitting there that worried him. "Scully?" he asked quietly, reaching out to touch her arm. She jerked her head towards him at his touch and he could see her eyes were bright with unshed tears. She shrugged off his hand, took a deep breath and shook her head, silently telling him she couldn't talk now. He understood her message and turned away, starting the car and pulling away from the curb. * * * * Once at the hotel, the partners walked silently down the hallway, each lost in thought. Mulder paused at his room door, fishing in his pocket for his keys. Scully, however, didn't miss a beat and kept walking....right *through* the door into Mulder's room. Mulder jumped. "Jeez, Scully. You've *got* to stop doing that," he muttered. This whole situation was really starting to unnerve him. In response, Scully stuck just her head through the door to peer at her partner. "Spooky....ain't it?" she said with a small smile and popped her head back inside. As Mulder let himself into the room, he said, "Why do I feel like I've been dropped into a bad episode of Quantum Leap?" And shut the door behind him. Bone-tired, he kicked off his shoes and laid down on the queen-sized bed, next to where Scully was sitting. He rubbed his eyes then looked over at his partner. "You didn't say a word the whole way over here. What are you thinking about?" he questioned. "About Missy, about the things she said." He nodded his head. "So have I. I've never put much stock in any of that spiritual, New Age mumbo-jumbo before. But after New Mexico and Albert and the Blessing Way ritual, and now this...." he trailed off. "I believe there is something to it after all." He sat up. "But what about you? I can only imagine what you're going through and how this effects your own beliefs. Talk to me, Scully." Scully sighed deeply and ran a hand through her auburn tresses before replying. "This is all so overwhelming. I hardly know *what* to think." She got up and started to pace around the tiny room. "I just keep hoping this is all a bad dream, that it's not happening and I'm going to wake up and everything will be back to normal." She sighed again and sat down in the chair across from the bed. "But I know it's real and I've got to deal with it." "What do you think about what Melissa said about your situation?" Mulder interjected. "It's fortunate that she's been working with Albert and was able to give us some insight on what's happening to you." "And who's the one to blame for putting in the situation where she met Albert in the first place? Me!" she cried angrily. "Scully, please.....don't do this to yourself." Mulder quickly moved to sit on the edge of the bed, facing Scully. "You have *got* to stop beating yourself up over this. Melissa doesn't blame you for the shooting." "No, Mulder! It's *my fault* she's in that wheelchair. And this situation I've found myself in has given me the opportunity to finally put things right." "What are you talking about?" he asked, suddenly afraid of the answer. Scully leaned forward and rested her arms on her knees. "I mean, Mulder, I'm not sure I *want* to get back to my body." *************** END CHAPTER 2 -------------------------------------------------------- Spirit of Friendship (3/16) by Jason Cleaver (argo@easynet.co.uk) and Barbara Nice-Miller (SpookyJedi@aol.com) Disclaimed in Chapter 1 ************ Mulder's heart nearly stopped. The air suddenly seemed too thick to breathe. She couldn't possibly mean.... "What?" he whispered. "Do you know what you're saying?" "Yes, Mulder, I do. Do you remember after Missy was shot and you talked about Fate? Well, you were right. This is Fate stepping in once again. That bullet was meant for *me*. It's time for me to pay for my actions." Mulder jumped up from the bed and strode angrily across the room, throwing his hands in the air. "How can you say that?!" he cried. Scully interrupted him. "Mulder, please. This is for the best. This situation has made me take a long, hard look at my life. I'm tired Mulder; I'm tired of putting my family in danger because of my actions. I'm tired of carrying around the guilt of what happened to Missy because of me. And I'm tired of constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering when that next bullet *will* come, because we've got too close to the Truth once again." She got up and walked over to where her partner stood and placed a hand on his arm. "I'm doing this for you too, Mulder." She held up her other hand to stop him from saying anything. "Wait. Let me finish. I'm holding you back. You try and protect me too much. And by doing that you hold yourself back from doing things because you worry about me. When I'm gone you'll be free to pursue every case and the Consortium with a vengeance, with concern only for yourself and no one else. I feel that's the only way you'll find what you seek." Mulder was stunned. His partner was standing in front of him telling him she wanted to die. And the more he thought about what she said, the angrier he became. "I never figured you for a quitter," he snapped. Surprised at his sharp tone, she dropped her hand from his arm and backed up slightly. "What?" "You heard me. The going gets tough and Dana Scully just gives up." "That's not--" she began. "No," he cut her off. "You listen to *me* this time." He had to get through to her. Make her see that she couldn't do this. To herself and to him. "So you're tired of putting your family in danger?" he began. "Well at least Melissa is still alive. My father's *dead* because of me. If I hadn't of found the X-Files and started sticking my nose where it didn't belong, he'd still be alive. And you want to talk about guilt? I've lived with it since I was 12 years old. Not a day goes by that I don't beat myself up over the fact that I didn't save my sister." His voice broke on that last word and his vision became blurry with unshed tears. "You have no idea how many times I just wanted to give up," he said quietly. He ran a hand over his face and his voice was stronger, steadier when he began again. "But I *didn't* give up, Scully, because the Truth is out there and I'm going to find it. But I can't do it alone. I need you by my side. You're my anchor. Contrary to what you believe, I'd spiral out of control if left by myself. Since you became my partner, we've gotten *so close* to the Truth. I never had that kind of success working alone. We're a team, but we're more that. We're friends. Don't give up on me Dana. Don't leave me alone," he finished softly. Scully had tears in her own eyes when Mulder stopped speaking. "You make a convincing argument, Mulder. And I haven't taken your words lightly. Nor have I made a final decision. But please, as my friend, respect my decision, no matter what it is, when I make it." Mulder closed his eyes briefly and nodded his head. "But please think about what I've said. We've got so much more to do. Together." Then he closed his eyes and let his head fall backwards. It was after 1am and he was completely exhausted. Both emotionally and physically. It had been a rollercoster of a day and every cut, bump and bruise he sustained in the cave-in was making itself known once again. Scully approached him once more and tugged on his sleeve. "Go to bed, Mulder before you fall asleep standing up." He opened his eyes and smiled tiredly down at her. "Trust me, I've slept in worse positions." She chuckled as he made his way back towards the bed. "I don't want to hear about it." He sat down on the mattress and started to unbutton his shirt. "You should get some sleep, too. I have a feeling tomorrow's going to be another long day." As Mulder made his way across the room, Scully caught sight of the bathroom out of the corner of her eye. She suddenly had an overwhelming urge to see if she could see her own reflection in the mirror. She turned and made it to the doorway before chickening out, deciding it was best if she didn't know. She didn't need Mulder calling her a vampire as well. Chuckling softly, she shook her head and turned back around, speaking at the same time, "Do you want to--" she began, before catching sight of Mulder. He was sprawled on his back in the middle of the bed, eyes closed and snoring softly, already fast asleep. Smiling tenderly, she sat on the edge of the mattress and softly brushed that ever-present lock of brown hair off his forehead. "Good night, partner," she whispered. Dana stood up, and walked slowly to the window, staring out into the darkness. It was a few moments before she realized that she *could* see herself in the glass. She was dressed in the windbreaker, jeans and hiking boots that she had worn that morning for her trip to the mine. She could still see the blood smear at the hairline. <> She thought. <> She turned back to look at Mulder who was snoring lightly. <> "Hello Starbuck." * * * * Rapid City Regional Hospital Melissa slumped down in her chair. She'd found the room easily enough, and miracle of miracles, no one had tried to push her. But what waited for her inside the room was beyond description. Even before the shooting, she was able to see at least part of the aura surrounding a person. It was the only way she'd known Dana was at least fighting when she'd been returned after her abduction. She certainly wouldn't have known looking at the inert body covered in tubes and machinery. This time, with all her new-found gifts, she didn't even have that. There was nothing there. Not surprising, considering that Dana herself was sitting in a hotel room somewhere, most likely watching her partner sleep. But that wasn't what was concerning Melissa. She'd seen her younger sister's mood, seen how close she was to giving up and moving on. Mulder wouldn't have noticed; it always amazed Melissa how someone as intelligent as Fox Mulder could be so totally self-centered. His view of the world was narrowed down to a single criteria; would they help or hinder his work on the X-Files. Nothing else mattered; he would shamble down a road that could only lead to his death, if what had happened to her was anything to go by, but if anyone was harmed by the fallout of his actions, he would take the blame fully onto himself and wallow in self-pity and recrimination. He wouldn't see how someone else was feeling unless it affected his work. Telling Dana that it was Fate that had spared her was a classic example of that. He needed her by his side; never mind the effect it might have on her, as long as he bore the guilt no one else would have to. Dana bore her own scars of course. Melissa could see the strong brand of guilt that almost overwhelmed the rest of her aura whenever her sister was around her. She'd tried to tell her sister so many times that the shooting wasn't her fault, that it had just been an accident. But Dana would listen, nod and go on with blaming herself. Melissa wished sometimes that Dana would just take that final step and request a transfer; at least then she'd have a chance at happiness. Because she wasn't going to find it partnered with Fox Mulder. That still didn't explain why body and soul were separate. Melissa had come straight here, intent on seeing the other half of Dana, but hadn't yet called Albert Hosteen. This was something well within his experience. She left the room with a brief backward glance at her sister's body. She didn't see the left hand clench and unclench. * * * * Dana turned, almost afraid to see who had spoken. As she did, she realized something else. The hotel room was gone. In it's place, was a huge room, laid out in stone, with arches and narrow windows. At one end were a huge set of closed double doors, made of what looked like bronze. To either side were flights of stairs, leading to a balcony that stretched the length of the room itself, joining at the far wall. At that end of the room there was a wide archway, leading to the outside; Dana could see sunlight and faint wisps of clouds. At ground level, the room was well lit by the sunlight pouring in through the windows and through a circular hole in the roof. The hole was directly overhead of a pool of water in the center of the Great Hall. The pool had a raised lip that one could apparently sit on. Apart from this, the Hall was empty. Except for Dana Scully and one other. Captain William Scully. In full uniform. Ahab. Dana never remembered the journey to his side. She only knew that one minute she was looking at him several feet away, the next she was in the warm circle of his arms, the old familiar feelings of safety and unconditional love flowing over her. She threw her own arms around him and hugged back with all her strength. After the longest while, she pulled away from him slightly so she could look up at him. He was smiling down at her with an expression she hadn't seen since she was a young girl; before the arguments about which branch of medicine she was taking and especially when she'd decided to join the FBI. She pulled away from him, still holding onto his hands and sat down on the lip of the pool, catching a glance of the reflective surface. She wasn't dressed in the windbreaker anymore. Instead she wore a long flowing white dress, with ruffles of lace, and puffed out shoulders. Her hair was longer, reaching down to her waist and wavy, so that it seemed to billow behind her. Her eyes were an almost luminous blue. Strangely the dress didn't have much of a cleavage; and it was the type to have one. "Sorry about this," Ahab said with a rueful smile. "About what?" Dana pulled her gaze away from the impossible reflection. He gestured at her. "It's how I used to see you; in the dress you wore to the Prom." "I don't understand." Dana said. Ahab smiled. "I forgot you don't know yet." He straightened. "Unlike the physical form, the spiritual can change their outside appearance, break the physical laws, do all the things that can't be done in solid form. Sometimes, others can change an appearance, if they think hard enough." "I don't think I'm going to have to worry about that," Dana replied. "I'm not going back." "Yes you are, Starbuck." Dana stared. "Daddy, I'm dead! My body won't let me back in; give me one thing I have to stay for." "I think I can do that, Agent Scully." Dana turned, not sure who or what she expected. The sight of the man she knew only as Deep Throat standing a few feet away was not as great a shock as she'd expected. She was standing with her father after all; why shouldn't a man who been shot before her eyes be here? But what reason could he have for her to return to the physical world again? Deep Throat came forward. "It is necessary for you to return, Agent Scully," He said in that quiet voice of his. "Necessary?" Dana asked. "Why?" "Normally, if body and spirit are separate, the body will die, the spirit moves on. This has not happened." "I think I noticed that!" Dana replied, a caustic edge to her voice. There was something about his voice, something more than the man she had briefly met... "There are forces in the universe that are beyond your understanding, Agent Scully," Deep Throat continued. "Names are given to them, so as to understand them better, and although this can limit them somewhat, it does nothing to truly describe what they are." "What do you mean?" Deep Throat smiled. "Heaven. Hell. Demon. Angel. God. Satan. Death. Fate. Words, Agent Scully, words to explain the unexplainable. But words have power. Man gives a name to something, it is bound up to that name, forced into the pattern implicit in the word, in the understanding of that word. And therein lies the danger." * * * * Rapid City Regional Hospital May walked along the quiet hospital corridor. She liked the night shift but then she liked the night in general, preferring the quiet silence of the night to the busy noise of the day. Not being able to sleep at night didn't help either; for reasons no one could understand, she could only sleep during daylight hours. There was a complicated medical term for it that May could never remember, all she knew was that at night, she was wide awake, but the moment the sun poked above the horizon, she started to feel tired. So she took jobs that had night shifts, did night classes, and got on with her life. It made it difficult to sustain a relationship with anyone, especially since most people wanted to sleep at night, but every now and then, May would meet someone who was special, who wanted to re-arrange their life to be with her. It never lasted though; the same love of darkness and quiet always seemed to drive her away from others, to the quiet of being alone with herself. When she was with someone, enjoying their company, she wanted to be alone. When she was alone, she found herself wishing for someone to love or just to talk to. It was starting to go that way with Petra. She'd met her in a bar 9 months ago and had been almost frightened by the deep and instant connection with the other woman. Petra had felt the same way; used to cruising the bars looking for easy pickups, the fact that love had dropped into her lap made her uneasy. It had taken several "dates" before the two women had relaxed into each other's company and longer before they started spending the whole night together. Three months ago, after a long night of discussion, Petra had moved into her much larger apartment, still keeping her own, but the near permanency was what both of them had thought they wanted. And it was for a while. Petra understood her occasional need for solitude, and would keep out of the way when she wanted it. But recently they were rubbing against the raw edges of the relationship, edges that both had agreed to leave alone for the sake of peace and the chance to let love grow. Long angry discussions culminating in one of them slamming either front or bedroom door, followed by tense silences. May's need for solitude was growing again, driving her out for long walks, feeling the peaceful silence fill her soul and calming her down. She knew why she felt this way. Yesterday, Petra had said she wanted to sell her place, move in permanently. May had smiled, nodded and hugged her with delight; both knew what a big step this was. But even as she rejoiced a small treacherous part screamed in fear. And lashed out. It had started small, just something that Petra did that niggled slightly, became all important. The conversation was cordial, became angry, voices raised, walls being constructed. May had stormed out to come to work, deliberately not listening to the sound of Petra's calls for her to come back. Since then, the worm of guilt had hooked her, despite her feelings that she was the one who'd been right. Realizing that the both of them were stubborn, unused to being with another person, that the problem could be fixed. She'd even acknowledged that it had been her deep-seated terror at losing her independence that had been the reason she'd picked the fight in the first place. She'd called Petra a few minutes ago, attempting to apologize. It could have gone better, both of them unwilling to move even the little bit that would have allowed compromise. And May's terror of loosing her silence was overwhelmed by her fear of losing Petra. She'd put the phone down reassured but still uneasy. Petra had sounded distant, even at the end. It was possible that she'd damaged things beyond repair, that she'd get home to silence and an empty apartment. For the first time, May found herself wishing that Petra was there. She arrived at her destination. The woman inside was something of a medical mystery, in a coma with no reason for her to be. She'd been instructed to check on her every half hour or so, to make sure everything was Ok. Her sister had been sitting with her for a while, but she'd gone to the cafeteria to get some food. May had warned her about the Lasagna and the coffee. She opened the door and stared in surprise. The woman was up and rooting through the closet. She held up a robe and tossed it aside. May came inside, closing the door behind her. "I think you need to get back into bed." she announced firmly moving towards the woman. The woman turned to face her. "Where are my clothes?" Her tone was angry. "I have to get out of here." May started to lead her back to the bed. "I'll get your clothes in a moment," she said, "Let's get back to bed shall we?" The woman stopped dead; for all her size May couldn't move her. She looked May up and down. "We're the same size." she stated. May started to reply, but the woman's hand suddenly around her throat cut off what she'd been about to say. The hand was hot, far hotter than it should be, almost stove temperature. She looked into the woman's eyes, no more than 4 feet away, and saw a brief flash of red deep inside the calm blue eyes. Fear exploded within her. "I'll take yours," The woman said in the same flat tone. "You won't be needing them." * * * * "Who are you?" Dana demanded, sure that while this looked like Deep Throat, it wasn't truly him. He smiled. "A messenger," he replied. "I could have chosen to look like your father, or anyone you knew, but I chose this form and sent your father to prepare you." "What do you want?" Dana asked. "For you to fulfill a bargain." "What bargain? I've made no bargain!" She exclaimed. "Not you. Another." "Why do I have anything to do with it?" "Because it directly affects you, Dana Scully." The Messenger said. "You entered the mine, so it is you who must enact on the bargain." "What do you mean?" Dana asked. "Because of what has happened to you, Agent Scully, the physical world is facing the greatest threat of its existence. Because of this, it is necessary for you to return to the physical world to help deal with it. Once it is dealt with you can still decide to come back." Dana stared at the being standing before her. What he was saying sounded incredible and almost beyond belief; if she had been anywhere but where she was, standing beside her father, she would probably have rejected it as the ramblings of a madman. "What do I have to do?" she asked. "Simply go back," The Messenger said. "You will know what to do when the time comes. But you must remember this...." He spoke in a guttural tongue for a moment. "What was that?" Dana asked. Whatever it was he had said sounded terrible, sending a shiver of terror down her spine. "All the help I can give you." The Messenger replied. "Go back Dana Scully, you can make your choice soon enough." With that he vanished before her eyes, leaving Dana alone with her father once again. He smiled down at her. "You'll be fine Starbuck," he said gently. "Will I?" Dana said. She looked down at the white dress. What was it he'd said...? As Ahab watched, her clothing changed to a blue suit, her hair shortening and curling slightly. The attitude changed also, bringing confidence and something more. "What do you think?" Special Agent Dana Scully asked. He smiled broadly. "Perfect!" She hugged him hard, then stepped back. "See you soon Captain." "Good Sailing Starbuck." * * * * Melissa slid her wheelchair round the corner and into the new corridor. She'd been in the commissary casting an unenthusiastic eye over the fare when she was seized by a sudden desire to check on Dana's body. As she wheeled down the hallway, the door to Dana's room opened and her sister stepped out, dressed in a nurses uniform. Melissa opened her mouth to call out when everything was washed away by a wave of black slimy terror at the sight of the aura. Black. Not the ordinary black that is the absence of light, but deeper. This was a black that had never heard of light, a black that lurks below normal black, never seen, but felt. The black of evil, of terror and pain, that spoke of a place that existed before man was even aware of it. A place with many names, all the same. Hell. For a single second she stared, terror filled, wanting nothing more than to turn around and run for crowds, laughter and company. Then anger replaced fear and before she knew it she was pushing down the hall towards It. It turned at her approach, looking down at her with curiosity as Missy slid to a stop in front of It. "Get out of my sister's body!" Melissa said quietly, still seething with anger. Somewhere inside, another part of her screamed a warning, but the anger still carried her. It raised It's eyebrows, surprise in the blue eyes. "Are you going to make me?" It asked with an amused tone. "I don't think so." Melissa opened her mouth to reply, when she saw a security guard turn the corridor and start up towards them. Fear washed away anger, as she realized what it was she was confronting with nothing but anger. It turned at her expression, saw the man coming. It smiled. "Excuse me," It said, the smile still painted on. The guard came up to them. "Can I help you Ma'am?" It reached out with a frightening speed and grabbed his head in both hands, bringing him down to It's level. "Yes," It replied. "You can." And kissed him. Melissa watched in horror as the guard slumped, only the grip on his head keeping him upright. Nothing seemed wrong to normal eyes but her Gift was showing her an impossibility; his aura was draining away. All too soon, It let him drop with a contemptuous gesture and turned back. "You cannot stop me little mortal," It said with a vicious smile. "You cannot even stop me from taking what I want!" All Albert's lessons came back and Melissa took a moment to call what she would need. She couldn't do much, but she could do this. When the power was gathered she straightened in her chair. "Maybe not, " she said. Then she released the power, feeling it fill her voice, as she spoke the next words. "But I Will Have Your Name From You." * * * * Scully returned to the hotel room as suddenly as she'd left it. She looked down at Mulder's sleeping form and a slow smile spread over her face as the idea began to take root. As she made the change, the bedside phone began to ring. She reached down to answer it, forgetting for a moment, and watched in frustration as her hand slid straight through it. She turned back to Mulder and shook him. "Mulder! Wake up!" Mulder came awake with a start, looked blearily at her, then reached for the phone. "Mulder." His expression changed, from sleepy to alert to curiosity, to anger, to worry. "I'll be right there!" He put down the phone, reached down and grabbed a new shirt from his suitcase, putting it on hurriedly. "What's wrong?" Scully asked. Mulder hesitated. "That was the hospital. They found a dead nurse and security guard in your room." Scully caught the tone. It was the one that told her he wasn't telling her the whole story. "What else?" Mulder reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. "They found Melissa unconscious, and your body was missing." ************** END CHAPTER 3