The Root of All Evil
By Donna
donnah@donnas-stories.com
URL - www.geocities.com/Area51/Quadrant/4571/
Rating - PG-13
Category - AU, MSR
Spoilers - None
Keywords - AU, MSR
Summary - If things had happened differently . . .
Feedback - Please
Archive - Anywhere, just let me know so I can visit
Disclaimer - Mulder, Scully, the Lone Gunmen and
Skinner all belong to Chris Carter, 10-13 and Fox. No
infringement intended.
The Root of All Evil - Part 1
He dropped the pen onto the desk and slipped off his
glasses, stretching. Ten minutes was not enough time
between patients, not to get his notes down on paper, but it
was all he had.
Now a new patient. He picked up the file and after glancing
at the clock, opened it once again. Kimmie was delighted to
have someone like this patient come to their practice, no
doubt hoping she'd bring others. He hadn't had the heart to
tell her this patient had probably chosen him because he
wasn't a society shrink.
The tap on the door interrupted him and he rose from behind
the desk. "Come in." He headed for the door as it opened.
His patient looked up at him. She saw a tall man with hazel
eyes and thick chestnut hair that flopped over his forehead.
He had on a nice enough suit; off the rack, but his body was
good enough to bring it off nicely. He extended his hand and
shook hers briskly. She noted he was younger than she
would have thought for his reputation, and wondered again if
this was a good idea.
He noted her hesitation, but that was normal for first time
patients. She was short, but her poise made her seem taller.
Her hair was perfectly styled to look casual, but he
suspected it had taken a great deal of time. He liked the
color on her, red was good with her complexion. Maybe it
was even natural. She looked up and he saw her lovely blue
eyes. "Welcome, I'm Dr. Fox Mulder."
She nodded. "Dana Scully."
"Won't you have a seat?" He motioned her to one of the
chairs in front of his desk and took the other beside it, rather
than sit behind the desk.
"I don't have to lie down?" She glanced around the room. It
was comfortable, a little messy but warm and inviting. There
was no couch.
He grinned. It was an old joke but she was attractive, even if
he wasn't supposed to notice. "We don't do a lot of that
anymore. It makes people more nervous instead of relaxing
them." He purposely did not look at her slightly shaking
hands.
She nodded and took the chair he indicated. It was
comfortable, not a normal office chair, nearly overstuffed and
if she wanted, she knew she could curl up in it with her feet
under her.
"I noticed on the form you filled out you didn't mention why
you wanted to see a psychiatrist, so why don't we start
there?" His voice was soothing; almost sexy with a husky
tone that made her wonder if he smoked.
She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to face him.
Good, one point for her. "I'd rather you not tape this
session."
"Hadn't planned to. We're just getting acquainted now. Go
on, what brought you here?"
"I'm having trouble sleeping and I think I need some help."
He kept his face impassive, but he was immediately
disappointed. If she was here for sleeping pills she was
going to be disappointed as well. The poor little rich girl
thing didn't work on him. "What kind of trouble?"
"I . . . I'm having nightmares." She looked down at her
hands.
That wasn't what he'd been expecting, but she still wasn't
just going to get pills in any case. "Tell me about them."
"That's just it, I don't remember them. When I open my
eyes, they're gone, except for the fear. The first couple of
times I was actually afraid to close my eyes again, terrified I
might remember, but now . . . "
"How long have you been experiencing them?"
"Over a month now. At first it wasn't every night but last
week . . . I need some sleep."
He nodded. "What kind of help do you think I can give you?"
She looked up then and again met his eyes. "I heard that
you could, could hypnotize people. Maybe if I can find out
what the dream is . . . "
Okay, now that startled him. No mention whatsoever about
drugs. She wanted to get to the root cause. His impression
of her rose slightly. He nodded. "I think it's wise to find out
what might be causing these dreams. I do hypnosis but I do
feel we need to discuss your situation before we try
something like that. There's a great deal of trust involved.
Since we don't know each other, I think we should talk a little
bit first."
She nodded and seemed to relax a notch.
"Why don't you tell me something about yourself?"
She gave a laugh with just a hint of bitterness in it. "You
mean things you haven't already read in the tabloids?"
"I don't read the tabloids," he said mildly.
She blushed lightly then and gave him a half smile. "Sorry. I
assume everyone knows everything about me."
"I'd rather get to know you, not the facade."
"Thank you." At least that's what he thought she said. It
was barely a whisper but it sounded sincere. She
straightened up in the chair. "I'm Dana Scully, daughter of
William and Margaret Scully of Scully Industries. My father
owns one of the largest shipbuilding companies in the
industry."
"Is that how you define yourself?"
She seemed startled by the question. "I guess I've always
been defined that way."
"Okay then, tell me about your family."
"Family. We're not much of a family. Father is 'busy' a lot of
the time between the company and his work with the
government; I haven't seen much of him for a couple of
decades, though we live in the same house. Mother has
pretty much retreated from life since . . . "
"Since?" he probed gently.
"Since Charlie disappeared."
Oh yes, he'd forgotten that. Years ago her younger brother
had been taken from their home in what was assumed was a
kidnapping. He'd never been found. If memory served it
had been a strange case, no ransom demand and her father
had behaved . . . strangely. She'd just been a child herself.
"How old were you?"
"Ten. Charlie was six."
"I remember hearing something about that. You were
there?"
"Yes. It was evening. My parents were at some party or the
other. The housekeeper was there but in another part of the
house. We weren't babies after all."
"They made no attempt to take you?"
Her eyes hardened slightly. "I wasn't the only son of William
Scully."
"But you are his only daughter," Mulder said quietly.
She turned away. "Apparently that wasn't nearly as
important; at least not to the people that took him, or my
father."
"So you're not close to your parents. Who are you close to?"
She blinked at that. "You mean, close like confiding in?"
He nodded.
"Uh, no one. It's not safe."
"Safe? That's not a word I would have thought to use."
"If you trust someone, they'll betray you, sell a story or a
picture to the news," she muttered with a contemptuous note
of derision.
"That sounds like experience."
Her eyebrow rose as she looked at him. "Do you honestly
think that those stories in the tabloids that you don't read
came from me?"
"It must be tough, not able to trust anyone."
"It's lonely." She straightened back up then as though
surprised at her own words. "That's not what I came here
about."
"Right, the nightmares. You say they started . . . "
"About a month ago."
"Did anything happen around that time? Break up with your
boyfriend?"
Her eyebrow rose again.
"Girlfriend?"
"I'm not seeing anyone and, for the record, if I were, it would
be male."
He grinned then. "On behalf of all males, thank you."
She gave a surprised chuckle and seemed to relax again.
"I want you to think about it. Was there anything different
going on in your life? Any significant calendar dates?"
She thought for a moment. "Well, Gloriana had that tape
made public. Have you heard of Gloriana Reynolds? Her
'boyfriend' got a good price for a tape of them having sex.
Her father got an injunction but . . . "
"Is that kind of thing . . . "
"Common? I suppose it is in 'my' group." She fell silent then.
"Anything else happen during that time?"
"Oh," she sat up a little straighter. "Father was in town. He
had a meeting with some men at the house that I hadn't
seen in years."
"From his company?"
"No, his government work. Mother was furious that he had
brought them home. I think he was surprised to see me
there. Someone had told him I'd be out of town."
"Did you cancel a trip?"
She sighed. "Yes, it just seemed like too much trouble.
Who knew I'd be in the way in my own home."
"You say you hadn't seen these men in years, but you had
seen them?"
"Yes. They used to come to the old house, where we lived
when I was much younger. We moved to this place when I
was eleven or twelve."
"After your brother disappeared."
She nodded. "Mother refused to live in the old place after
that; too many memories for her. I don't blame her, but I
really liked that place much better." She fell silent then,
musing through some memory.
He sat quietly, allowing her to set the pace. What kind of
existence would it be to trust no one; to assume that
everyone was after something from you? After a moment he
cleared his throat. "What do you do?"
"Do? You mean to make money?" she gave him a sad little
smile.
"Not necessarily, what do you do with your time?"
"I went to an acceptable college or two. I have a degree in
interior design." She looked up at him. "I shop, hang out with
people I've known a long time. Mostly I flit."
"Flit?"
She shrugged.
"I notice you said you hang out with people you've known a
long time. You don't call them friends."
"I'm not sure they are," she responded calmly.
"So what do you want to be when you grow up?" His lips had
the faintest quirk to them, but for some reason she wasn't
offended. Something about this man made her feel
comfortable. It was probably a well honed bedside manner -
both in the office and his bedroom from the looks of him.
She met his eyes then. "Safe."
He nodded. He had never really given much thought to the
lives of the mega-rich and famous. Safe sounded like a goal
she truly wanted to pursue. Imagine, her brother kidnapped
at an early age, her friends violated by people they trusted.
"Dr. Mulder?"
"Yes?"
"Sorry, I thought you went away there for a second."
"Maybe I did," he said softly. "You've given me some new
things to think about."
"Are you surprised that rich people have problems?" she
challenged him mildly.
"No. And I can see where trust would be a major issue.
Thank you for giving me a chance to earn yours."
Her cheeks pinked and she looked down again. "Will you do
the hypnosis?"
"I'll try to help you."
"I don't want to talk about . . . I just want the nightmares to
go away."
"I want us to talk at least once more before we try something
like that. It can be an invasive procedure if you don't trust
me."
She opened her mouth, but then closed it and nodded.
He smiled then. "Let's look at my book."
*****
On the way home that night he stopped at a magazine stand
that he passed on the way to the subway.
Once home he booted up his computer and began searching
for information about Dana. Not something he'd felt
necessary of any previous patient, but there was so much
fear around her for all of her poise.
There was a depressing amount of information. Her parents
had married young and her father had thrown himself into his
work, building Scully Industries into the worldwide mega-
corporation it was now.
There was little to no personal information about her father.
He apparently worked behind the scenes in government
circles. There was plenty of speculation but little fact and he
refused interviews.
There had been quite a bit written about them when Charlie
had been kidnapped, likening it to the Lindbergh kidnapping,
but at least in that case there was a resolution of some sort.
The boy had never been found, no body, nothing. The FBI
had been all over it, but it was still considered an open case.
Every five years or so some news team would put together a
retrospective but nothing new had ever been uncovered.
Mrs. Scully had retreated from the limelight at that time too.
They had remained married, but she was almost never seen
in public. She had tried to shield her remaining child from
the press for a long time. Dana had been sent off to a
private school with a high degree of security. It was sad; the
woman had essentially lost both of her children. When she
was spotted and photographed now, she seemed wooden,
detached from the moment, as through . . . drugged.
On the other hand there was a great deal of press about
Dana. Unlike most of her friends she had never been to
rehab, but for a time she had been quite the party girl. She'd
had the requisite coming out event, which her parents had
attended together. After that it was no-holds bar. She'd
dropped out of Vassar, but eventually returned to complete
her education. She'd told him interior design, but it seemed
to be more of an education in night life.
Then about a month ago she'd dropped out of sight. There
was quite a bit of press about her friend and the sex tape, so
it was possible that they just ran out of room, but that hardly
seemed likely.
What surprised him was that he actually had more respect
for her now, for coming to someone for help, for wanting to
get to the bottom of the problem. Maybe she'd been able to
grow up despite her upbringing.
*****
Their second session had been a little easier. She had
spoken more of her life, the distance between her father and
herself, her father and her mother. She had wondered aloud
that they were still together. She had seemed surprised with
herself that she had opened up so easily with him. She
found herself talking about Charlie, about good times when
they had been children.
He was aware that she was attractive, even desirable, but he
was professional. She was beginning to trust him and that
was important.
*****
He had arrived early and was pulling out the key to the office
when he rounded the corner. He stopped when he spotted
her scrambling to her feet at his office door.
"Dana?"
She'd been crying and he fought the urge to take her into his
arms. Not a good idea. "Just relax. Come in and I'll make
us some coffee."
She nodded, still not speaking. His hand on the small of her
back led her to a smaller, different office than the one she'd
been in. This one did have a couch and the desk was a
great deal messier. He seated her and gave her hand a
reassuring squeeze.
"I'm just going in the next room to start the coffee. I'll be
right back."
She watched him until he disappeared into the hall, then
curled her feet beneath her and allowed her eyes to close.
He was only gone a few minutes, but she was asleep when
he returned. He watched her for a minute, then took a seat
at his desk and opened the top file. It was nearly thirty
minutes later before she stirred.
He rose immediately and took a seat in the chair beside the
couch. "Dana?"
She startled at his proximity and drew back.
"I'm sorry." He rose and retreated behind the chair. "Would
you like some coffee?"
"Yes, thank you," she said softly.
He returned shortly with a cup and a handful of fixings for
her. She added a little creamer and nodded her thanks.
She took a couple of sips and then a deep breath.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked quietly.
"I had the nightmare again; it was the worse time yet. I
hadn't had it in three nights, not since . . . "
"Not since when, Dana?"
"Since I've been coming here; since you made it better."
"Did something happen? Has anything changed with
Gloriana's case?"
She shook her head. "I haven't heard anything, and I
haven't seen her since I started coming here."
"But something made it return." It wasn't a question.
"One of those men came by the house."
"One of the government group your father used to work
with?"
She nodded. "I don't know his name. He's the most
frightening of them all, the way he looks at me. And he
always has a cigarette burning. He lights one after another.
Mother has never allowed smoking in the house, not since I
can remember, but he doesn't even ask. And he stinks of
smoke. You can smell him all over the house."
"Did you know that scent is the most powerful trigger of
memory?"
"You think I'm remembering something about that man and
it's causing nightmares?"
"I don't know, but it's an avenue we need to explore." He
glanced down at his watch. "I have a patient coming in a few
minutes, but - "
She looked up. "I'm sorry, of course you - "
"Don't apologize. I'm glad you came to me. I want to help
you. Are you free this evening? If you could get here
around five and wait, after my last patient we could see
about this. That is, if you don't mind being here with me
without Kimmie being here."
"You mean like now?" she asked with a smirk.
"Uh, yeah," he chuckled. "Can you be here?"
"Yes. Thank you."
"Are you okay to drive?"
"I am now. I'll see you at five." She rose from the couch and
held out her hand.
He shook it, then squeezed it lightly. She smiled and moved
to the door.
It was a long day. He forced himself to stay focused when
his patients were in the room, but his notes were meager.
Thank goodness for his memory.
*****
The Root of All Evil (2/10)
She tapped on the door and he hurried to answer it. "I saw
your receptionist leave. I didn't know if she knew I was
coming."
He smiled, "No, if Kimmie knew I'm not sure she'd have left.
You look more relaxed."
"Well, I'm keyed up but it's anticipation instead of dread this
time. If I can get to bottom of what's going on - "
"Now Dana, I want you to realize this is just a start. This is
not like television. We're not going to find all the answers in
47 minutes plus commercials. We can't even be sure you'll
go under this time."
"Why not?" She had moved on into the room and turned to
look at him.
"It's a trust issue. We've only met a few of times. You're
going to have to submit yourself to me."
She didn't comment for a moment, but her cheeks pinked as
she took in his words. "I, I understand. But can we get
started?"
"We sure can. Have a seat. I do want to suggest that we
tape this session. That way you can hear everything I hear,
and I can listen to it again."
She swallowed, but after a moment nodded. "Will you keep
it private?"
"I swear. It won't even be transcribed; just for us to listen to."
"Where will you keep it?"
"In my briefcase, unless we're listening to it. No one will get
their hands on it. I promise."
She took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, tape it."
"Thank you. I want you to take off your shoes, your belt. Put
any restrictive jewelry, like that bracelet, in your pocket."
"I don't have a pocket. Here." She removed it and her
necklace and handed them to him.
"Uh, that stuff looks real. I'm not sure - "
"I trust you, remember?" she grinned.
He chuckled and emptied out his paperclip holder and put
the jewelry in it. Then he had her sit back and recline the
chair. He moved his chair closer and she turned to look at
him.
He began in a soft lilting monotone. "I want you to look into
my left eye and listen to my words. I want you to rotate your
neck, three times in each direction. Now wiggle your toes
and breathe deeply. Hold it, now release. Now I want you to
start with your toes, relaxing them completely, and now your
ankles. Relax your calves; let them sink into the fabric of the
chair, heavy . . . heavy . . . too heavy to lift. Your knees,
your thighs, you're breathing nice and slow. Relax your
pelvis, your hips. You're relaxing . . . relaxing . . . and your
eyes are getting heavier and heavier, you're falling into a
deep, deep sleep." He spoke slowly, in that husky, honey-
soaked voice. She shoved that aside and concentrated on
his words.
Her breathing was slow and deep, and he could tell from the
rapid eye movement that she was in a deep trance. He
began slowly, "Dana, can you hear me?"
She nodded.
"Okay. I want you to let your mind drift. Let it go to a safe
place, a place where you feel comfortable. Now you need to
visualize a rubber band around your waist. If you get
uncomfortable, that rubber band will bring you back to your
safe place. All you have to do is let it bring you back. Do
you understand?"
"Yes," she said softly.
"Now I want you to go back, back to a happy memory when
you were a child. Can you see it?"
She nodded again and a smile grew on her face.
"Tell me what you see."
"It's Christmas. I'm crawling under the tree and Charlie is
helping me. We're trying to be quiet, but Charlie keeps
giggling. He's just a kid."
"How old is he?"
"Five." Her smile dimmed. "It's the last Christmas . . . "
"Is he happy?"
"Yes. We're having fun. Father is in town and Mother let us
help with the tree. Charlie is shaking the presents with his
name on them and Mom is laughing."
He let her savor the memory for a long moment, then softly
continued. "I want you to move forward to that summer.
Can you see that?"
He saw the sadness creep across her face. "Dana, what's
happening?"
"Mother and Father are fighting again. They fight all the time
now. The men that work with Father keep coming over.
They're scary." Her breathing was getting faster.
"Just relax. This is a memory, it can't hurt you."
Her breathing eased a little.
"I'd like you to move forward again. Move into the fall of that
same year. Can you do that?"
There was a hitch in her breath now. "What's happening,
Dana?"
"He's there. The worst one."
"What do you mean, 'the worst one'?"
"The smoker. He's been locked up with Father for hours.
Mother's in there with them now. She's yelling but I can't
understand what they're saying." She stiffened.
"Dana?"
"He's coming out. He's seen us in the hall. Oh god, he's
ruffling Charlie's hair and, and he's reaching for - No!"
"Come back, Dana. Come back to your safe place. It's
okay. You're safe. On the count of three, I'm going to wake
you, and you're going to remember everything you saw.
One, coming up, two, relax, and three."
Her eyes opened and she sank back into the chair. He
started to rise and her hand shot out to stop him.
"I'm just going to get you some water. It's okay."
She nodded and let her eyes close. She opened them again
when he returned and took the bottle of water he handed
her. After she had taken a couple of sips she put it on the
table beside her. "Th-thanks."
"Just relax for now."
"Did we get to my nightmare?"
"I don't know, but you did go back. That's a major break
through."
"I couldn't finish."
"You did great. I told you we wouldn't get finished in one
session."
She managed a small smile at that.
"How do you feel?"
"It's strange. I hadn't thought about that Christmas in years,
but you asked for a happy memory and it's the first thing that
came to me."
"Where was your safe place?"
She looked down and he saw her cheeks grow pink. "Here."
"Here?"
She nodded. "I feel safe here; like I can talk and it's not
going to go anywhere else."
"Thank you."
She visibly relaxed then. "When can we try again?"
He chuckled at that. "Well, if this time is okay, I'm free
tomorrow evening."
"Really?"
"Yes. I know you're anxious. Do you feel okay to drive?"
"I'm fine, thanks."
"Where did you park?" He watched her clasp her bracelet
on and slip her feet into her shoes.
"In the deck."
"Good, so did I." He placed the small cassette into a pocket
in his briefcase and snapped it close. "I'll walk with you."
"Thanks."
His hand guided her out of the elevator, resting lightly on her
lower back. She pointed to the right and he escorted her to
the small black Lexus. He waited until she was inside and
her engine started. After she pulled out he made his way to
his Taurus and headed out.
*****
The next evening when he opened the door, she held up a
bag. "Since I'm sure you missed dinner for me last night, I
thought I'd take care of that tonight."
"Very nice," he smiled and motioned her inside. "What am I
eating?"
"Italian sub and salad. I hope that's okay."
"Very okay."
She pulled out the sandwiches while he retrieved a couple of
bottles of water. "Did you listen to yesterday's session
again?"
"I did. I'm hoping you can go back there again today. How
were your dreams?"
Her smile dimmed at that. "I got some sleep."
"Not a full night."
"I haven't had one of those in a long time," she admitted.
He nodded. "We're working on that."
"And now I feel like we'll get there. Napkin, please." She
turned to her sandwich.
When they had eaten she returned to the recliner and got
comfortable. He went through the relaxation process until
she was once again in a deep trance.
"Dana, I want you to go back to your childhood memory
again, to the day we visited yesterday. Can we do that?"
She nodded.
"The man that was visiting your father; do you see him?"
"Y-yes."
"This is a memory, Dana. He cannot hurt you."
Again she nodded and her breathing eased.
He continued, "He was touching Charlie."
"Yes, then he patted me on the head. He's the scariest
person in the world. Even Father is afraid of him."
Mulder frowned. Who was this guy? He had immediately
wondered if the man had molested the children when she
had reacted so dramatically to his touch in yesterday's
session, but her father shouldn't fear the man.
"All right, he's gone now. What's happening?"
"Mother and Father are still fighting, but he's forcing her to
get ready."
"Get ready for what?"
"They're going to a party. Mother doesn't want to go and
she keeps crying, but he won't change his mind. She comes
into our play room and holds us, kissing us goodbye. She's
never done that before. Father is pulling her away. He's
handing her his handkerchief and won't look at us."
Mulder was frowning now. These people knew what was
about to happen to their son. They were going to allow it.
What the hell?
"They're gone now. What are you doing?"
"We're playing a game, and the TV is on in the background.
Wait!"
"Dana?"
"The lights have gone out. It's dark and Charlie is scared."
"Is your housekeeper coming?"
"The room's shaking!"
He frowned at that. What would cause the room -
"There's a light, out on the balcony. It's bright, it's too
bright. It hurts - the doors blew open! They're always
locked! The light, it's getting closer, it's - Aaieee!"
He jerked back at her scream. She didn't wait for him to
bring her out this time. Her eyes flew open and she
launched herself at him, clutching at him in terror. His arms
automatically closed around her. She was whimpering,
quivering in fear. He rocked her, giving her time. Her
hysteria was full-blown, and coming under control took a
long time. She was burrowed into his chest.
"Dana? Dana, can you hear me?"
She only tightened her hold on him.
"It's a memory, Dana. Remember that. Nothing is here now
but you and me."
After a moment she nodded.
"Just breathe. You're safe."
After a few moments she took a deep breath and forced
herself to sit up and only then did she realize she was in his
lap. She stiffened slightly.
"Dana?"
She met his eyes, shaking her head as she moved back to
the chair. He was loath to let go of her, but this was no weak
woman. She wouldn't have survived the life she'd lived if
she were weak.
"Was it the man, the smoking man?"
"N-no." A tear trailed down her face.
"Who was it?"
"I'm losing my mind."
"No, you are not. You suffered a trauma in your past. It was
a long time ago."
She shook her head. "What I saw. I can't - "
"What did you see?"
Her tears increased. "You won't believe me."
"Talk to me, Dana."
She dashed her tears away. "I've never . . . it wasn't
human."
"What wasn't human?"
"The thing, the thing at the balcony. It was; I don't know
what it was."
"You were a child, Dana. Could it have been someone in a
mask?"
She shook her head. "No. How did it walk? The legs . . .
and how did it get on the balcony of the third floor?"
"Can you draw it?"
"Maybe." She answered reluctantly. Her hands were still
shaking when he handed her the pad and pen. She quickly
sketched what she had seen and handed it to him. He said
nothing, just staring down at the pad.
"I am crazy."
"No, you aren't."
"I just drew a, an alien!"
"First, I want you to calm down. You drew what you saw in
your memory, a memory of a terrible time you had as a
child."
"You think I've imagined this?"
"No, no I do not," he said firmly. "But I do think we're
through here for this evening. I don't want to try to put you
under again right now."
She nodded, agreeing quickly.
"I have something I have to do tomorrow night, but the next
night I can stay again. That gives you some time to recover,
and for me to think about what I've heard."
"You don't think I'm crazy."
He smiled gently then. "No, I don't. And, I don't think you
should go anywhere tonight."
"I'm going home and crawling under the covers."
"We are getting closer."
She shivered then. "That's good, right?"
"I think knowing the facts are better than the imagination.
The imagination is almost always worse."
"Oh joy," she leaned back, closing her eyes once more.
Then she took a deep steadying breath. "I know you need to
get home. I'm ready."
"Are you?"
Her smile wasn't completely convincing, but she rose and
slipped on her shoes.
He grabbed the second cassette and slipped it into his
briefcase with the first one. She waited in silence as he
locked the office and they walked to her car. "Dana, are you
sure you're able to drive?"
"Yes. I'm going straight home. I'll see you day after
tomorrow."
"If you need to talk before then, call me."
She didn't meet his eyes, just slipping into her car. He
stepped back as she reversed out of the parking space.
*****
He rang the doorbell and heard the running feet. A smile
grew on his face. The door was flung open. "Uncle Fox!"
He leaned over and picked up the little girl, hugging her. "Hi,
Kiddo." She squeezed his neck.
"I gotta show you something!" She squirmed down and ran
toward the back of the house. Mulder shut the door and
started after her. "Look!" She had her baby brother by the
hand and he was taking a couple of toddling steps beside
her.
"Well look at that," Mulder chuckled. He looked up as his
brother-in-law joined them.
"Yep, two walking. Ain't it grand? Want a beer?"
"Sure. I'll get them. Smells like Billy needs you."
John glared at him as he took the boy. Mulder headed for
the kitchen. He had two bottles of beer in his hand and was
closing the refrigerator when Samantha came in.
"Well, if it isn't my idiotic big brother," she didn't look happy.
"Hey, what did I do? John said I could have a beer." He
looked innocently startled, but she snorted at him. Instead of
answering she moved over to the pile of newspapers for
recycling. She pulled out a paper and slammed it down on
the counter.
"Mystery stud seeing Scully heiress. Are you going to tell
me that's not you?" She pointed to the picture.
He moved closer to look as Chrissy raced into the room.
She skidded to a stop at his side. "Daddy wants his beer.
What's a stud?"
He picked her up again. "I guess I am, Baby." He winked at
her. "That's why they call me 'Fox'." He pretended to goose
her and she giggled. "Tell Daddy I'll bring his beer in a
minute."
She scrambled down and ran back to the living room. He
felt a twinge of jealousy at her energy level, then he turned
back to Samantha. "What is this?"
"I believe it's you. Am I wrong?"
He studied the picture. "No, that's me."
"I thought you had better taste," she sounded disgusted.
"I beg your pardon? In the first place, I'm not 'seeing' Dana
Scully and in the second place, what would be wrong with it
if I were?"
"She's a party girl and out of your league. You're worth
three of her. I hate to see you wasting yourself. It's time you
thought about settling down."
"Whoa, when did you turn into Mom?"
Samantha cut her eyes at him. "You know Mom and Dad
want grandchildren."
"You're doing fine in that area. A girl named for Mom and
boy named for Dad. I think that's perfect. So what if they're
last name is Byers."
"They want some 'Mulder' grandkids. And you are the last,
you know."
"You could have kept your name," he countered.
"That's not what we're talking about. Fox, how did they get
this picture? If you're not seeing her - "
"I'm not seeing her 'personally'. She's a patient."
"Since when do you walk your patients to their car with your
hand on their back?"
"When the session runs late, they're parked in a dark parking
garage with a fully loaded Lexus and wearing jewelry that
would pay my rent for a year. And the hand was manners.
You seemed to appreciate it when you were hugely pregnant
with Chrissy and slipped that time."
She rolled her eyes. "So you're not dating her."
He looked down at the picture again and shook his head.
"What kind of life is it that someone would trail her to a
doctor's appointment to take pictures of her?"
Samantha opened her mouth for a quick jab, then decided
against it. The door opened and John joined them. "A guy
could thirst to death out there." He picked up his beer and
handed the baby to Mulder. "Here you go, stud."
Mulder glared at him. "I knew it was a mistake, introducing
you to my sister."
John chuckled and headed back out of the kitchen.
"Look, I need to make a phone call."
"To the Scully heiress, I presume?" Samantha asked with a
touch of snarkiness in her tone.
Mulder ignored the rib and answered, "Yeah. I doubt she's
seen this, but I need to let her know they've tracked her
down."
"Fox, don't get involved with her. Money doesn't keep her
from being trash." His expression caused her to look away.
"Hurry, I don't want dinner to get cold. Use the phone in the
bedroom."
He nodded and headed out, leaving the baby with John as
he headed upstairs. He used the private number she had
given him and she answered on the second ring.
"Hello?" she sounded tentative.
"Hi. It's Fox Mulder."
"Dr. Mulder? Are you calling to cancel - "
"No, not at all. I, I wanted to let you know that you were
followed to my office. There's, there's a picture of us in the
Tattler."
"Of us?"
"Yes. When I walked you to your car the first evening.
There's probably another one from last night."
He heard her sigh. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. It's not your fault. I just wanted to warn
you. I, I think maybe you shouldn't come to my office.
They'll figure out what's going on."
"I see. Well, thank you for your - "
"You're still my patient, Dana. If you trust me, I think we
should meet somewhere else. I'm not giving up on helping
you. I just don't want you to be embarrassed."
"You're not . . . cutting me loose?"
"Absolutely not. I just didn't want you to see the paper and
think that I . . ."
"I trust you, Dr. Mulder. Remember?"
"Thank you. Is there some place you think would be safe to
meet?"
"Yes. Why don't you come to dinner at the Lever House; it's
on Park Avenue? There's a back entrance to the
apartments upstairs. I'm in 524."
"Do I get to eat first?"
She chuckled. "I'll have it delivered. Dr. Mulder, thank you."
"See you tomorrow, 6:30?"
"Yes. See you then." She broke the connection and he
hung up, smiling. He returned downstairs in time to help
Chrissy into her booster seat and take his seat beside her.
"Did you reach her?"
Mulder nodded, but added nothing, putting some vegetables
on Chrissy's plate.
After getting Billy settled Samantha turned back to Mulder.
"Mom tried to call you."
"I didn't have a message."
"You know she hates those things. She wanted you to know
they're staying in North Carolina a few more days. Aunt
Grace is doing better but she still needs some help, and Dad
has fallen in love with some golf course nearby."
"I'll give them a call when I get home tonight. You didn't
mention the, uh, picture, did you?"
"Hadn't seen it yet." She handed Billy his sippy cup and took
a bite of her own meal.
"Good." They all settled into the family dynamic, enjoying
the meal.
Once the kids were in bed, after a story read by Uncle Fox,
the adults relaxed in the family room. "What did she say?"
"Who?" Mulder asked innocently.
"Your slut de jour."
"Samantha," he shot her a warning glance and took a deep
breath. "What is it about her that - "
"Come on, Fox. You aren't living in a cave; you've seen the
stories about her. The parties, the drinking, sex tapes - "
"There have been no sex tapes of Dana," he interrupted.
"Well it's only a matter of time. Her reputation - "
"Has been enhanced to sell papers. I've never seen you
judgmental like this. What is it?"
"I know you can do better. I want you to do better. You're a
wonderful man, Fox and you deserve a family, a - "
"I'm not exactly over the hill, Samantha. Not to mention
again that she's a patient."
"That won't stop her, not if she wants you."
Mulder looked over at John. "Do you know what set her
off?"
"No, but I get the impression she really doesn't like this
woman."
"I just want you to be careful. Don't get ensnared by her."
"I think I can keep my hormones in check, Sam, but I do
appreciate your concern. Now, I need to get out of here. I'm
way behind on my paperwork. Dinner was delicious as
always."
John waved as Samantha walked him to the door. "I'm
sorry, Fox. I just don't want you to get involved with . . . "
He kissed her cheek. "Don't; I appreciate it, really. You can
rest assured that Ms. Scully isn't going to settle for someone
like me."
"Settle!" Samantha said, outraged. "She'd be lucky; you'd be
the one settling."
"My biggest fan," he smiled down at her. "I'll talk to you after
I call Mom." He let himself out.
*****
The Root of All Evil - part 3
He entered the restaurant and waited for the hostess to
approach. "I'm meeting someone. I'm Dr. Mulder."
"Of course, sir; this way." She led him toward the
back. "This is for you." She handed him a box, then led him
to another door. "There's an elevator through there sir. Go
to the fifth floor."
"What do I owe - "
"It's taken care of, sir."
"Thank you." He nodded to her and let himself out the back
door. If anyone noticed, it wasn't going to concern him.
Once he reached the fifth floor, he spotted the apartment
and moved to the door. His knock was answered
swiftly. "Ah, I see you brought dinner this time." She took
the box from him and led him toward the kitchen.
He glanced around. "This place is great. I didn't even
realize there were apartments up here."
"That's part of the charm. It's my 'Fortress of Solitude'."
His eyes lit up. "You know Superman?"
"Of course. I read him as a kid. Want the tour?"
"Sure."
"Well this is most of it. The kitchen and great room make it
open, which I really like."
He nodded, agreeing.
"The master suite is back here." She led the way to a
spacious bedroom with seating area, decorated in tones of
green and lavender with dark cherry furniture. It was a large
enough room not to be overwhelmed by the four poster
bed. "You're not going to see the closet. Don't ask."
He chuckled. "Fair enough. I wouldn't want you to see mine
either; but probably for different reasons."
She grinned and led him back to the short hall. "I turned the
second bedroom into an office. It makes me feel like a
grown up to have a place to keep my life organized. It
doesn't really work, but it gives me hope."
He followed her into the office. He's expected delicate
furniture in here, a lady's desk or something, but he was
surprised to see a large desk and a wall of bookcases. He
stepped closer to see the books. Not what he was expecting
either. She had an eclectic collection of well-worn classics,
best sellers, and more surprising, science fiction novels and
psychic phenomena studies.
"You have a wide variety of interests," he mused.
"I guess I do. I'm not sure why these appeal to me, maybe
it's because Mother didn't want me to read them, like the
Superman comics, but I couldn't stay away."
"What about fantasy novels, swords and dragons?"
"I've read them, some of them are quite good, but I'm drawn
to the hard sciences like Niven."
"End of the world novels?" He pulled On the Beach from the
shelf.
"Yes, end of the world and the day after, The Hammer of
God and Dies the Fire."
"Okay, I admit that surprises me."
"You expected me to read romance novels or maybe just
fashion magazines?" But she didn't sound offended.
"Hardly. You're not your reputation or your press
clippings. It took me less than five minutes to recognize
that."
"Thank you." She looked away from him, though he could
see the color in her cheeks. "Well, I need to heat up
dinner. They told me 45 seconds in the microwave and
everything would be perfect. No cracks about my cooking."
"Forty-five seconds in the microwave is exactly like my
cooking, so you'll get no cracks from me." He followed her
into the kitchen.
He set the table as she heated their meal, filet with
asparagus and bliss potatoes. "Okay, I take it back. My
microwave has never seen anything like this and would
probably short out if I put it in there." He admired the plate
she sat before him.
"I have wine, but since we're going to be working . . . "
"Probably not a good idea."
"I have a variety of waters and iced tea."
"Tea would be great. You know you're spoiling me," he
called after her as she headed for the refrigerator.
"Spoiling myself too. You're the first person I've ever invited
here."
He stopped with the fork halfway to his mouth. "I'm - "
"Fortress of Solitude, remember?"
"Do you live here or . . . "
"Both. This is my private space and the house with Mother
and Father is my 'social' setting. I stay over there a couple
of nights a week; more if Father's out of town. I don't like
Mother to be alone."
"Alone?"
"She . . . she takes medication," Dana looked down at her
plate. "Sometimes too much medication and she forgets and
. . . "
"I'm sorry."
She shrugged. "It's normal to me, like so many things."
"Well, I'm honored to be the first to visit the Fortress."
"Go ahead and eat. You don't want it to get cold and have to
be re-nuked."
"Yes ma'am." He cut into his steak and took a bite. His
smile grew and she took a bite herself.
She made coffee after dinner and they moved into the living
room section of the great room. "I guess we need to get
down to business."
Mulder nodded and drew a chair closer to the couch. He
placed a cushion on the coffee table and she slipped off her
shoes and put her feet on it. "This is just like at the
office. We're going to do the same relaxing and return to
that night, okay? May I touch you?"
"What?"
"Your hands, may I hold your hands during the session? I
don't want you to be frightened by these memories."
"I . . . thank you."
He nodded and repeated the post-hypnotic trigger they used,
taking her back to that night. "Dana, I want you to watch this
memory clinically this time, in slow motion. I want you to
stay calm, nothing here can hurt you."
She nodded.
"What's happening?"
"The lights are out. Charlie is screaming my name. The
room, it's starting to shake. Things on the shelves are falling
over; books are falling to the floor."
"What can you see?"
"The light, the light outside of the balcony doors. The doors,
they're flying open. The light hurts it's so bright."
"Do you see anything else?"
"The creature. It's, it's coming inside."
"Can you describe it to me?"
Her hands twitched and he took hold of one of them. "It's tall
and too thin. I don't know how it's walking, the joints are
wrong. It should topple over. The head is oversize with no
hair anywhere; it's nude but it has no genitalia. Its eyes are
huge and black. It doesn't blink."
"Where's Charlie."
"Charlie!" She grabbed for Mulder with her other hand as
well.
"This is a memory, Dana. Just relax." Her grip loosened,
but she didn't let go.
"He's, he's floating. It's impossible but he's just
hovering. Now, now he's moving slowly toward the
window. I feel, it's strange, I'm light, like I'm going to float
too."
The word weightless was on his lips, but he stopped
himself. That was leading, besides none of this was what
really happened. This was a memory, a
metaphor. Otherwise he'd have to believe in aliens.
"I can hear it, but it isn't speaking."
"What do you hear?"
"It's talking to me, in my mind."
"What is it saying?"
"Not to be afraid. He'll be returned. Now it's holding out its
hand. It, he only has four fingers and his skin is, is leathery,
pebbly and gray." Her grip tightened again. "He's going to
touch - cold!"
She jerked back and the trance was broken; her wide blue
eyes met his in fear. "It's black, blank." She was
hyperventilating and he pulled her to him again. She came
willingly, holding him tightly.
His hand caressed her back and after a few minutes she
began to relax.
"Slow your breathing, Dana. You're safe."
She buried her face in his neck for a moment, then seemed
to realize it and straightened up, moving back to the
couch. "I'm sorry."
"Do you remember what happened when the housekeeper
got there?"
She shook her head. "Apparently I was unconscious. I
woke up in the hospital three days later."
"Were you okay?"
"I was in an unexplained coma. Everyone said it was
trauma, from seeing my brother taken." She finally met his
eyes. "Little did they know, huh?" Her voice was bitter now.
"Dana - "
"I think I know what my nightmare is now."
He squeezed her hand and let her sit clutching it for a long
moment. Suddenly her head came up, her eyes
wide. "Father! He was; he was involved!"
Mulder had already reached that conclusion after the last
session, but the horror in her eyes was unfeigned. "Dana - "
"That's what they were fighting about. It's what the smoking
man was there about. And he still sees him!"
"Dana, please - "
"How could he do that? No wonder there was no ransom
note. Father knew all along what had happened. And
Mother's pills and drinking. Oh god! How stupid could I be?"
"You're not stupid, Dana. You were a child."
"I haven't been a 'child' for far too long. You should go
now. I'll be fine." Her voice was distant, detached.
"Why don't you put your feet up for a little while? I'm not in a
hurry." He wasn't sure she heard him. "Do you have any
brandy?"
She waved in the direction of the kitchen. He rose from his
seat and headed that way. He found the liquor cabinet and
a snifter, pouring her a generous amount. She wouldn't be
going anywhere tonight. "Here, sip this."
"Will it help?" she sounded brittle.
"In the long run, no. It's for shock."
She made no comment to that, but took the glass from him
and took a sip.
"Put your feet up; close your eyes for a few minutes."
"What are you going to do?"
"Uh, I'll clean up the kitchen."
Her eyebrow rose.
"That looked like a challenge. Go ahead, close your eyes for
a few minutes."
"You really don't have to - "
"I know I don't. Think about it; I would never let you leave
my office so upset, so I'll stay here until you feel a little
better."
After a moment she nodded and stretched out on the
couch. He draped the throw from the back of the couch over
her and headed for the kitchen. He was aware she was
watching him for a few minutes, but eventually he noted that
her eyes had closed. He carried the plates to the sink and
loaded the dishwasher after putting the few leftovers away.
When he had finished in the kitchen he moved quietly to the
office in order not to disturb her. He looked over the books
again. Her description of the, the alien was so detailed. He
wasn't used to that in hypnosis unless it was a true
description. Right, an alien had taken Charlie Scully. That
caused a grim smile. On the other hand, she hadn't read
these books before she was ten and the 'aliens' in
Superman were more human looking than humans. He had
personally enjoyed Supergirl's costume quite a bit when he
was younger.
He was jolted by the cry from the great room.
"No! No, Charlie, no!"
He rushed to her side. She was crying and shaking under
the light afghan. "Dana, wake up." She didn't hear him, so
he placed his hand on her shoulder.
She jerked upright, panicked.
"You're safe, Dana, you're safe."
She still didn't seem to hear him, so he drew her to
him. That seemed to get through to her and she clutched at
him. He held her against him, massaging her back as she
calmed slightly.
After a few minutes she pulled back and he searched her
face. She wouldn't meet his eyes. "You can go now."
"I'm in no hurry."
"I have to leave."
"You're not going anywhere."
She rose from the couch then and stared up at him with all
the haughtiness of her millions behind her. "I beg your
pardon?"
"I gave you a generous dose of brandy, you shouldn't - "
"According to the tabloids, I have a prodigious capacity for
alcohol - "
"Fuck the tabloids, Dana!"
She jerked back startled at his venomous retort.
"You are not that woman. You know it, I know it, so stop
it. What you want to do is go confront your father."
She looked away but didn't dispute it.
"You can't. Dana, look at me. That's the last thing you
should do right now. You're upset and confused and
angry. You can't go to him."
"Why the hell not! Finally I know and - "
"You don't know, neither of us does. And if we are right, it's
a secret that they've kept for fifteen years. It could be
dangerous to go to them, demand information and accuse
them."
"What do you mean, dangerous?" At least he had her
attention now.
"I mean 'dangerous', as in not safe. I don't want to think
your father would harm you, but that smoking man; what
about him if he finds out you're having these memories?"
"He, he wouldn't - "
"How can you be sure? Tonight is just not a good time to do
this. Can you hear me? Right now the only thing you should
do it go to bed."
"And have another nightmare."
"You should try anyway. Go on." He watched her shoulders
slump.
"Let me lock up."
"No, go on to bed."
"What about you?"
"I, I can crash here." Had he really said that? He could lose
his license. All she had to say was that he had been
inappropriate. He shouldn't even be in her home. What was
wrong with him?
"You want to sleep on my couch?" She sounded confused.
He could back out now, no harm, no foul. Instead he heard
himself say, "Yeah. It'll be okay. Go on."
"Don't you trust me?"
"I trust you, I wouldn't think of sleeping on your couch if I
didn't, but I want to be here in case you change your
mind. Go on."
She stared at him for a long moment. "There's, there's stuff
in the second bathroom."
"Okay."
She hesitated a moment longer, then turned away. "I, I . . .
thank you. I'll get you a robe."
"One of yours? Pink?" he decided to try for a lighter
note. The tone of her whispered thank you had caught him
off guard.
She did turn back then, disdain dripping from her
demeanor. "I'm a natural red head. I don't do pink."
He couldn't hold back the chuckle. "Thank you; I'd be honor
to borrow a robe."
The night was surprisingly calm after that. If she did have
another nightmare, she didn't wake herself or him.
He joined her in the kitchen the next morning and she waved
for him to take a seat at the bar while she poured coffee. "I
don't have a lot here, but I do have bagels."
"That would be great. I usually only have coffee on the way
to the office."
"You're worse than I am. Listen, I need to know how to find
out more about these things that took Charlie."
He looked up, startled. "Wha- I uh . . . "
She stopped on her way to refill her cup. "The aliens. Do
you know where I can research - "
"Dana, that was a metaphor."
"Excuse me?"
"I don't think you should take the, the 'aliens' as - "
"You don't believe me."
"I believe when you were regressed, you saw something that
covered the evil of the situation," he replied carefully.
"That level of detail? I saw that."
"I know you did, but - "
"But you think I imagined it because I couldn't face the truth,"
her voice filled with a tinge of coolness.
"Not imagined, exactly. Dana . . . "
"That's okay. I get it. You think I've been reading too many
science fiction novels."
He blinked then; yeah that was exactly what he'd been
thinking. "Dana - "
"I understand. Thank you for your help in getting to my
past. I'll send you a check for your time."
"That's not - "
"You better get going if you're going to get to work on time,"
her voice was cool, business-like.
Damn, had he handled that wrong. "I think we need to - "
"No thank you." She moved to the door and opened it. "The
elevator goes to the parking garage when you go to the
lower level, beneath the restaurant."
"Dana - " She was focused on his chest and wouldn't meet
his eyes.
He took a deep breath and allowed her to see him out. The
door closed firmly behind him.
*****
His patient gone, Mulder headed for the reception
desk. "Any calls?" he asked, hopefully casually.
"Calls? Uh, no."
"No calls? All morning?"
"Well, yes, we've had calls. Two from insurance companies,
a couple for appointments, but no personal calls. Is that
what you meant?"
"Yeah. So, how's the week looking?"
She eyed him suspiciously. "Pretty good. Besides the
regulars, you have two newbies; one on Thursday and one
on Friday."
He nodded. "Let's see."
Without a word, she turned the book around. If he wanted to
act oddly, he was the boss.
"Yeah, that looks good. Thanks. You going to lunch now?"
"Unless you need something . . . "
"No, I'm fine. Have a good one." He turned away, missing
her appraisal before pulling her purse from the drawer.
He let himself back into his private office. She hadn't called;
hadn't returned his calls. He'd really blown it this
morning. He'd been caught off guard. No, he didn't believe
in aliens from outer space. On the other hand, he'd never
given it all that much thought. On impulse he grabbed up
the phone and dialed.
"John? You got a minute?"
"Sure, what's up?"
"Are you still in touch with those geeky friends of yours - the
conspiracy nuts."
"Langly and Frohike? Sure, why? You drumming up
business?"
He forced a laugh. "I just wanted to ask them a couple of
questions."
"Okay. You free tonight?"
"Uh, yeah."
"I've been kicked out of the house. Sam has some friends
coming over."
"Girl's night?"
"Something like that. Let me give them a call."
"Thanks."
*****
Mulder smiled as he and John waited for the locks on the
door to be disengaged. He wouldn't have gotten in alone,
even carrying the beer.
The blond one stood in front of them when the door finally
opened. "So the stiff wants an audience."
"Be nice, Langly," John cautioned him. "He paid for the
pizza and beer."
Langly smirked and opened the door wider to let them enter.
*****
Author's note: I fudged on the date in mentioning "Dies the
Fire" by S. M. Stirling. It wasn't written back then, but an
excellent 'end of the world' novel recommended to me by
Jay. I pass along the highest rec!