TITLE: COVENANT AUTHOR: RHONDDA LAKE E-MAIL: rhonilak@icontech.comcontech.com> -------- Disclaimer: Awwww... come ON... you know the drill. Category: S, A, MSR Rating: NC-17 Summary: Mulder and Scully have to come to terms with some changes... Timeline: It breaks from the real X-Files timeline just before Leonard Betts. I got enough to deal with in this one without the events following that one. Author's notes: I want to thank the Rhino Readers (Deb, Nancy, Mary, Carolyn) the wonderful group who usually beta read for me. Also everyone who volunteered to do a 'test reading' beta type thing on the X-Files Romantics Mailing list. And lastly to Miki Akimoto, the absolutely marvelous Beta Reader/Editor who got stuck with me from THE BETA READER'S CIRCLE. (If you are a writer and have not availed yourself of the free service, please do. It's wonderful, helpful and informative. To submit your story for beta reading send a request to klietz@ford.com ) You have no idea how nerveous I am about posting this one, folks. The song "Who Wants to Live Forever" quoted before each part is by Queen. The lyrics are by Brian May. Copyright 1986. There's no time for us, There's no place for us, What is this thing that builds our dreams Then slips away from us? Who wants to live forever? --------------------------------------------- The car door slammed closed. "I can't do this anymore, Mulder." The driver turned to look at the woman currently buckling her seat belt. "I said I was sorry." "You're always sorry, Mulder. After the fact. But that doesn't keep you from running off on the wildest of fucking goose chases without so much as a word to me. I'm supposed to watch your back. I can't do that if I don't know where the hell your back is. I can't take you ditching me anymore." Mulder pulled out of the police station parking lot. "I ditch you because I don't want you to get hurt. Because you ARE my backup, and I need to know you're there to pull me out if I get caught. Like last night." His tone and his posture were defensive. They had had arguments about this before, but for some reason Scully's tone struck him as different. More... ominous. Maybe it was the fact that Scully was swearing. She only swore when she was truly upset and couldn't find any other outlet for her emotions. "I can't take another two a.m. call asking me to come get you out of jail... what if the next call is from the morgue? I can't do it, Mulder. This is it. I've placed all my trust in you, but you obviously don't trust me as much as you claim to." Dana Scully didn't sound so much angry as hopelessly sad and disappointed. "That's not true." He drove up the entrance ramp to the highway. "I trust you more than anyone. More than myself." "You think you do, but you don't. If you trusted me you'd tell me where you were going and why. You'd trust me to come with you. It isn't trust you feel, it's dependence. I'm there, but only when it's convenient to you." Her voice was tight and her eyes were bright with tears she refused to allow to fall. "I can't be your fucking tissue anymore. I can't handle this, being used then tossed aside. This was the last goddamn time." Mulder took a deep breath. He honestly hadn't realized she'd seen it like that. "I don't use you, Scully. If you feel like this... why'd you come? Why'd you bail me out?" Please don't let this be leading where it felt like it was. He was a screw up, he knew that. But he didn't know if he could handle fucking up this relationship. Not true. He knew damn well he couldn't. Life without Scully was no life at all. She sighed. A small, tired sound. "Why do I do it? Because if you're dependent then I'm co-dependent. I just realized on the drive up here that I have to break the cycle. It isn't healthy, for either of us." "Would it help if I promised never to ditch you again?" Mulder divided his attention between her and the road. "Not really. You'd mean it as you made the promise, but for a man with a photographic memory you have convenient lapses. You'd forget you'd made the promise when the next dead end lead came around. You'd forget until you were half way to God-knows-where doing God-knows-what and then decide not to upset me by calling and telling me I'd been ditched again." Mulder felt his own anger rising. "You have it all figured out, don't you?" he spat. "I know you too well. And sometimes that frightens me." She turned from him, looking out the window at the blur of passing scenery. "So... what? Are you asking for a transfer?" Mulder gripped the wheel, feeling it dig into his palms. Please no, he silently willed. This can't be happening. He was doing it again. Screwing up. Losing her again. And this time he had no one to blame but himself. "I don't know. The X-Files have become my life as well, Mulder. I've dedicated everything to our work. I've lost so much to it. I don't know. Do I need a change? Do I need to get out now when there's still a slight chance I can? CAN I allow myself to get out? I don't know. But I do know I can't handle you running off into the sunset anymore." She was looking at her hands folded daintily into her lap. She sounded... tired. Defeated. Alone. "I promise I won't ditch you anymore, Scully. I know you don't trust that," he spat angrily, "but I promise. Can't you at least give me a chance?" She looked up at him, her eyes demanding his attention. "I don't know. Can I?" XXX THREE MONTHS LATER 9:05 PM The soft clicking of the needles was the only sound in the room. A steady rhythm of sound and flashes of movement that wove a pattern of the sea green yarn. Angie Hagenboum stopped the needles when she saw she had a visitor. "Hello. Oh my, looks like you've had a bad day." She went back to her knitting, but focused half her attention on the young man before her. He was very handsome. Tall and athletic. His dove gray suit was immaculately pressed, and his tie was enough to make her dizzy. He also looked completely, miserably depressed. "You could say that." He sighed and sat in the Victorian chair beside hers. "She still won't talk to me, or acknowledge I exist." Angie nodded. "It's hard for her too, Fox. These things take time. Persistence is the key." Angie had gotten to know Fox Mulder better in the past two months. She knew him for the longest time only as 'Dana's young man'. She'd seen him coming and going from her neighbor's apartment at the oddest hours. But recent events being what they were... well, Fox needed a friend. Having nowhere else to turn, she'd invited him in. "Mom, who're you talking to?" The voice came from the next room. Angie's daughter, Donna. Angie had to live with Donna since the younger woman became convinced she could no longer care for herself. "Dana's young man, dear. Nothing to fret about." There was a silent moment. "Ooookay, mom. I thought you were talking to Dad again." "No, he is running an errand. I'll tell him you asked about him though." Angie looked sadly at Fox. The young man had winced at Donna's innocent questions. "Sometimes they never give in, do they?" Angie sighed. "No. Sometimes they don't. But I think your Dana will. She's aware of more than she wants to admit. I think you'll eventually get through to her." "She's having trouble, Mrs. Hagenboum. She's in pain. This is hurting her more then I ever dreamed it would. It... it hurts to see her like this." The old woman nodded sagely. It appeared as if each deep line on her face marked a point of wisdom she'd gained. "I know it does. Did you ever think you might be making things worse? Maybe you should just let things be." He shook his head. "I can't. I can't let it end like this." Mulder ran a hand through his hair. Three months ago he'd never have dreamed of sharing so much of himself with anyone. Especially Scully's eighty-three year old neighbor. But times changed, and everyone needed someone to talk to eventually. "But... it has ended. It's your own stubborn nature that won't let it rest." Mulder laughed. "Is that what you tell your husband?" "George has been stubborn from the day I met him." Angie's eyes twinkled. "It was half the attraction." "Mom?" Donna appeared in the doorway of the living room. "I'm gonna go down to the store and pick up some bread and milk. Will you be ok here alone?" Angie smiled sweetly at her daughter. "Of course I will, darling." Donna sighed. The Alzheimers hadn't noticeably advanced, but her mother still suffered from it. Unable to live in the present. In her confusion she often made things up. It was only a short trip. Twenty minutes at the most. Donna decided her mother was well enough to trust alone for that long. XXX 11:32 PM Dana tossed in her bed. Under her lids her eyes moved rapidly. //"I promise." Pain. Unbearable agony ripping through her. Her body a mass of torment, her soul torn apart. NO! Nonononononono! "Hold on. Breath. Fight." The voice, Mulder's voice, in her ears or in her head. "Hang on. I promise. You're going to make it." "I promise I won't ditch you anymore, Scully. I know you don't trust that," he spat angrily, "but I promise. Can't you at least give me a chance?" She looked up at him, her eyes demanding his attention. "I don't know. Can I?"// She whimpered into the darkness. Dreaming. Remembering. Unable to tell where one ended and the other began. It didn't matter. Dream or memory, it was still a nightmare. //"I promise I won't ditch you anymore, Scully. I know you don't trust that," he spat angrily, "but I promise. Can't you at least give me a chance?" She looked up at him, her eyes demanding his attention. "I don't know. Can I?" "Yes. I swear. I won't ditch you again." Scully wasn't sure if she could believe it. Should she give him one more chance? She sighed and looked out the windshield.// She moaned and tossed against the sheets. Her hands grasping at the emptiness. Trying to hold back time. Hold back the past. Hold back the inevitable. //She sighed and looked out the windshield. The truck in the other lane was cutting ahead of them. They weren't slowing down. Her peripheral vision detected Mulder still focusing on her. "MULDER, LOOK OUT!" Pain. Unbearable agony ripping through her. Her body a mass of torment, her soul torn apart. NO! Nonononononono! "Hold on. Breath. Fight." The voice, Mulder's voice, in her ears or in her head. "Hang on. I Promise. You're going to make it." "I promise I won't ditch you anymore Scully. I know you don't trust that." He spat angrily, "but I promise. Can't you at least give me a chance?"// She sat bolt upright in her bed, biting back a scream. She felt the cold, sticky sweat on her body and shivered against it. Carefully she swung her legs out of the bed. She'd only been out of the casts for three weeks. Her strength was returning, though. She could walk. She could breathe. Her punctured lung was just a painful memory and a disfiguring scar from emergency surgery. The doctors told her she'd make a full recovery, and she had. Physically. He'd left her. That son of a bitch left her after the accident. He'd promised, he'd sworn to her he wouldn't leave her again. So what did he do? He turned right around and left. And it hurt. A great ripping hole torn through her heart. He'd shredded her emotions to confetti and tossed them to the wind. Half of her cursed him for a coward, even as the other half howled combined rage and desolation. She started back at work tomorrow. To face the looks. The pity. The pain. The empty office. It was hers alone now. She clutched her pillow to her chest and let the tears come. In the dark. In private. Where no one could see them. There's no chance for us, It's all decided for us, This world has only one sweet moment Set aside for us. Who wants to live forever? Who dares to love forever... When love must die? ------------------------------------------- THE FOLLOWING MORNING 8:03 A.M. Dana Scully walked into the J. Edgar Hoover building with her head held high, and her heart about even with her toes. Her mother had called her in the morning to try and talk her out of going in. To give herself more time. There would never be time enough. She ignored the looks, the eyes that followed her. She felt her stomach turn to lead, however, when Agent Henderson walked up to her with a long face. "Agent Scully... I am so sorry..." "Thank you. I'm fine." Her answer was automatic and it was all she could do to not shove the other woman aside and flee to the sanctuary of the basement. If it was a sanctuary. Her heels clicked against the floor as she strode further down the hall. She should have known luck was against her. If there was such a thing as fate, she was now the focus of its cruelty. "Agent Scully, can I see you for a moment?" AD Skinner's voice ripped through the walls of iron she was erecting to shield herself. Not him. She could handle anyone but him. Because she trusted him. Mulder had trusted him. Confidences were given and taken. She turned to face him and nodded. He held the door to his reception area open for her. She proceeded him into his empty office. "Please, have a seat." She sat in the chair she usually occupied. She was almost surprised not to see Mulder occupying the other seat. She looked at it, the empty chair, for three full seconds before directing her full attention on Skinner. He hadn't missed it. "I'm not so sure this isn't too soon. Agent Scully, you've just suffered a terrible..." "I know what I've suffered, sir. I also know what I need. I need to return to work. To carry on. I need to continue. If I don't... I'll just stop." She shook her head, holding it in. Keeping it locked down. "Do you know that if a shark stops swimming, it drowns? I have become a shark. I have to pursue M... Mulder's goals. If I don't... there is nothing left. It will have become the last failure. The final letdown. I cannot let him down again." Skinner leaned forward, his hands together on his desk. This wasn't any easier on him. "Scully, I do not believe you ever let Agent Mulder down." "Excuse me, sir," she stood and turned to leave, "but the chair is empty." "And that's not your fault. There is nothing you could have done to prevent that. I admire your persistence, Agent Scully. But don't forget yourself. Don't become Mulder. It would serve no purpose." The elevator was comfortingly empty. She hesitated at the office door. Her fingers traced the nameplate. She was glad it hadn't been removed yet. Taking a deep breath, anticipating the pain, she unlocked the door and stepped inside. She flipped on the light switch and crossed the short distance to the desk. His desk. Her's now. With exaggerated care she sat in the worn seat. She turned, her eyes taking it all in as if for the first time. This had been his domain. Now she could do with it as she pleased. Maybe take out some of her anger by actually alphabetizing his atrocious filing system, or putting some of the stacks of files in some order, or even organize the books in here. He had been able to get up and find a book or reference from any of the piled junk accumulated on any and all flat surfaces. She didn't have the blessing of his photographic memory. *No one down here but the FBI's most unwanted.* *Actually I'm looking forward to working with you.* *Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?* Her eyes focused on that damned poster. I WANT TO BELIEVE. The tears began to flow, silently. She cursed her own weakness. "I don't want to believe, Mulder. Not this." * Fox Mulder watched her enter the office. She looked stiff, stoic, patently false. He reached out for her, but as always, in the last three months he couldn't touch her. He wanted to offer comfort. "Come on, Scully. I'm still here. Look at me. I'm right here. I promised I wouldn't ditch you." She didn't even look up. Her silent tears tore at his heart. She was so strong. He'd rarely seen her cry. That the tears were for him was unbearable. "I'm right here." His voice broke and he backed away. This was torture. She wouldn't see him. She chose not to, and it hurt. Her disbelief had indeed come between them at last. He'd done his half. More. He was here. He refused to leave. But she was refusing him, refusing to see him. Refusing to believe he could have kept his promise. Extreme possibilities. She wasn't open to this one. It was a betrayal. She was destroying them. Her unwillingness to trust her heart, the bond between them... HIM. She didn't trust HIM to be here. "Right here." He backed toward the door, and acknowledging the coward within himself, he fled. * *Right here.* The words were a whisper. A memory? It was Mulder's voice. Scully sniffed and wiped at her eyes. Auditory hallucinations, no doubt brought on by stress. It was almost to be expected that she'd think she heard him here. Here more than his apartment. Here, where his essence was. When she'd walked in, she even thought she could feel his presence. That if she just turned around fast enough he'd be standing right there. If she gave into that irrationality she'd spin around like a dervish, seeking oblivion to catch a glimpse. But he wasn't here. He hadn't spoken. Fox Mulder would never speak to her again. She lost herself in the memory. XXX THREE MONTHS PRIOR "I promise I won't ditch you anymore, Scully. I know you don't trust that," he spat angrily, "but I promise. Can't you at least give me a chance?" She looked up at him, her eyes demanding his attention. "I don't know. Can I?" "Yes. I swear. I won't ditch you again." Scully wasn't sure if she could believe it. Should she give him one more chance? She sighed and looked out the windshield. The truck in the other lane was cutting ahead of them. They weren't slowing down. Her peripheral vision detected Mulder still focusing on her. "MULDER, LOOK OUT!" Pain. Unbearable agony ripping through her. Her body a mass of torment, her soul torn apart. NO! Nonononononono! She was falling... falling... She couldn't breathe. One side of her chest felt heavy. Blood was clouding her vision and agony ripped up her legs, her chest. Legs broken, she realized. Couldn't breathe. Collapsed lung? Puncture? Mulder! Where was Mulder? "Hold on. Breath. Fight." The voice, Mulder's voice, in her ears or in her head. "Hang on. I promise. You're going to make it." There he was. OK. She'd hold on. She could trust him. He made a promise. He'd keep it. All of them. She'd give him another chance. Didn't she always? Her biggest weakness was Fox Mulder. I'm just a girl who can't say no... she mentally sang to herself. She'd forgive him. She already had. She'd tell him...once the darkness went away. She awoke in an ICU. She gagged on the tube down her throat. A nurse was there instantly. Nurses and doctors poked and prodded. They removed the tube, but Scully let consciousness leave her again. The second time she awoke she saw her mother sitting next to her, holding her hand. "Mom?" Was that her voice? So thin and weak. "I'm here, Dana. You had quite an accident." Maggie Scully tried to smile, but failed. "How bad?" "You were in surgery for three hours. You broke three ribs and one had punctured your left lung. Both of your legs are broken. But they have you on codeine. I bet you're not feeling much pain." "No..." Her throat was sore, ragged. The tube most likely scraped it raw. "How's Mulder?" Her mother's face froze, and Dana saw the shine of unshed tears. "Rest now, honey. The doctor said you need your rest." "Mom?" "Later. Just rest now." The codeine carried her away. When she awoke next it was to face her mother and a doctor. "Mom... I have to know. Where's Mulder? He must be in pretty bad shape if you keep avoiding me." Her mother folded her hands under her chin, as if in prayer, and closed her eyes. The doctor stepped forward. "Miss Scully, the driver of the car you were in... Mr. Mulder... was killed on impact. Your car hit an eighteen wheeler. I can promise you... he didn't suffer. He most likely never even felt it." No! Nononononononono. It was a lie. It was a trick. It was a twisted joke. He couldn't be dead. Not from something as stupid, as prosaic as a car accident. It was laughable. She wanted to cry. She did. Her last words to him had been in anger. An argument. Oh God. It had been the argument that had distracted him. She had killed him. She'd been in and out of consciousness for five days. She never even got to attend his funeral. In mere seconds, her world lost its focus. She was torn in half. Half of herself was missing. It was this. The soul deep feeling of loss. The very absence of... something... that allowed to know and accept the truth. Fox Mulder was dead. How could she go on living? It was fitting she had missed his funeral. She'd been his killer. His executioner. Could she look his mother in the face and offer her condolences? No. Not when she was the one to put him in the ground. She'd done the job she'd been sent to do without intention. XXX Angie Hagenboum finished planting the pansies in the side yard. Ten years ago George used to help her with the gardening. Now he pretty much watched her do it and offered advice. "Maybe you should plant an azalea in that corner." Angie snorted. "George, you've been trying to get me to plant an azalea there for eleven years now. The sun is wrong for one there. Let it drop already." She looked up when she sensed the second presence with her. "Hello, Fox. Oh dear. It didn't go well, did it?" "I had to get out of there. She was crying. She was crying and I couldn't do anything about it." "Unless she chooses to see you, you can't. You're dead, son. Live with it." George Hagenboum patted Mulder on the shoulder. "George! This is serious. Go pester a cat or something. Come on inside, Fox. I'd offer you a nice cup of tea but... well, you get the picture." Angie took Mulder's arm and led him towards the apartment she shared with her daughter. "How come you can see me? How do you do that?" He moved his arm in her grip. "Because I was born able to see the stubborn idiots who refuse to move on. And because, as my daughter would most likely tell you... I'm insane. Alzheimer's you know. I live in the past. Can't accept my husband's death, all that happy horseshit. Funny combination, don't you think?" Mulder sank down into the Victorian chair again. "I'm kinda new at this. At first I tried to deny it. I mean I saw Scully in trouble and told her to hang on, tried to help her. Then I saw myself. I'd seen enough bodies in my life. The sight of myself crumpled up in that wreckage..." He shivered. "I went into immediate denial. Then I tried to stay with Scully when the ambulance came. To talk to her, the EMT's... they couldn't hear me. I tried to grab one guy and my hand passed through him. I'd never been so scared in my life. It took a while for it to sink in, you know. And when it did... I just had to explore, to see what it was like. I thought... maybe this was what the afterlife was all about." "Hardly. Ninety-five percent of the deceased move on immediately. The other five percent are bound by ties stronger than life, bound by honor, or are just too damn stubborn to accept death." "So what happened to me?" His eyes were sad and lost. "I think all of the above." "I think I'm in Hell. For months I've been trying to reach her. But she can't... or won't... see me. You said she had the ability if she'd only let herself." "And she hasn't yet. So you are going to have to rely on something other than sight at first." Angie began to put sugar on a piece of toast, absently. "What? She can't hear me, either." "The strongest force in this world, or any other, is what we feel. You've suppressed your emotions for so long it's difficult for you. However, to have any influence on the physical world you must feel strongly about it." Angie took a bite of her toast and looked at it strangely. She shrugged and took another bite. "I felt strongly this morning, Angie. And it didn't work. Nothing." Mulder ran his thumb along his jaw. "So what else can I do?" "Nothing. Now it's up to her." Angie ignored her teacup and drank the milk out of the creamer. But touch my tears With your lips. Touch my world with your fingertips, And we can have forever. And we can love forever. -------------------------------------- Scully dropped her keys on the table beside the door and shrugged out of her suit coat. The day had been as bad as she had dreaded. Hopefully it would get easier. There were a few cases she had looked over, and was considering investigating a rash of drowning suicides along the Florida coast. Twenty eight people with no previous signs of distress, no notes, no warning, just walked into the ocean over a five month period. Florida would be nice. Sunny, warm, and far away from here. It had been hard to pick a case. Mulder usually did that. She'd tried to imagine his comments on each file she'd looked over. It had felt... wrong. She sat down on her couch and stared blankly at nothing. It had been a supreme effort to get out of bed each morning. She was so tired all the time, short tempered, and it hurt. It hurt to breathe, to move, to feel her heart beat. Not a physical pain. Nothing a few Tylenol could help. It was a pain that branded itself on her soul. She knew the signs. Clinical Depression. Maybe she would prescribe herself some Prozac. But would it make the pain go away or just make her THINK it had gone? Did it matter? So much had been left undone. So much unsaid. Damnit. She had never told him how she felt. She'd always assumed he knew. She assumed that their eyes spoke what their mouths never had. But had he? Had he really known? Especially when the last thing she had said to him was tantamount to a threat of leaving. An accusation of a lack of trust. And despite the anger his last words were a plea for her to stay. Not to go. But she wasn't the one who left. She bit her bottom lip. She would not cry again. She had wept more in the past three months than she had in the last three years. It was unacceptable. As she had lain in the hospital, after the accident, after learning he was gone, she'd not felt like eating. So she hadn't. The IV would be enough. She didn't want to talk about it. So she didn't. She didn't want to face anyone or anything. So she hadn't. It was her mother who forced her into recovery. "I am not going to let you do this, Dana. I'm not going to sit here and watch you will yourself to die. You are alive. I have to believe that you're alive for a reason. You survived. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that he didn't. It hurts me too, though I realize not near as much as it hurts you. But you told me once you were willing to die for him. Were you?" Maggie Scully took hold of her daughter's chin and forced her to look at her. Dana couldn't nod, held so, so she was forced to answer. "Yes. Of course I was." "And you think that's brave? To die for someone's easy. One moment of decision and it's over. Now you have to be really brave, Dana. You have to be willing to live for him. You have to be willing to do what he can't. To live. "It's almost spring. You have to be willing to walk through a garden of spring flowers and appreciate their beauty, that you can look at it, because he can't. You have to do the living for both of you." Maggie swallowed hard and released her daughter's chin, aware of the red marks she'd left on her flesh. "Otherwise you are throwing away all he meant to you. All he would have wanted to do." She had hated that her mother was right. Hated the truth in those words. Hated that she had to go on because of them. But she had. She ate. She healed. She went to therapy to build up the strength to walk. She decided to carry on the quest. She determined that she would find out what happened to Samantha for him. Because she was alive and owed him as much. But what caused the most pain, what made it so hard to accept... was she could almost feel him nearby. There were times she could swear she smelled him. Memories superimposing themselves on the present. A single silent tear escaped. Only one. Crystalline, it sparkled as it slid down her cheek. * Mulder sat in the chair across from her, watching her disappear into her own mind. God, it hurt. He wanted to tell her he was here. He wanted to hold her and make the pain go away. He wanted to tell her he loved her, as he never had in life. He'd always thought he had time. He always just assumed she knew. He saw the tear caress her cheek as he could not, and feeling such a surge of love and sadness he reached out to wipe it away, without thought. He was startled when she flinched. * Something brushed her cheek. She instinctively flinched back. It had been warm and light. For a second she thought a fly had gotten into the apartment. * She had felt him. He wanted to dance for joy. Some part of her knew he was here. As Angie has said, she was able to sense more then she would admit. What had he done differently this time? Feelings. Yes. He'd let his love reach out. He tried it again. He reached out and touched her arm. * That was no fly. She jumped up. Was she going insane? Something had touched her. It had felt like a hand. But no one was here. Too much... she'd pushed too hard and too fast. She was tired. Overstressed. Her mind was playing tricks on her. Her eyes darted around the apartment. Nothing. Nothing there. She shivered and turned to head for her bedroom. Sleep. She needed sleep. * It was and was not working. She felt him, yes, but it was scaring her. How could he let her know it was him? Without words, only by touch... how? Then it came to him. * Half way down the hall she felt another touch. A gentle pressure at the small of her back. It was a gesture, a touch she was intimately familiar with. A touch she knew as well as her own name. She stiffened and turned. It was impossible. It was insane. "Mulder?" No flashy special effects, no fading in or out. When she turned around he was simply... there. "It's about TIME." A voice she'd never thought to hear again danced joyously in her ears. Dana Scully proceeded to do something she had never in her life done before. She fainted dead away. XXX She awoke in her bed. Oh God, what a dream. "Feeling better?" She jumped up and scrambled back on her bed until her back was against the headboard. "Ohmigod. I'm going nuts. I've finally cracked." "No, actually you're just beginning to see clearly." His lopsided grin pulled at her heart, at her soul. He sat on her bed, dressed in a dove gray Armani and a paisley tie. If she could ignore the faintly glowing blue aura, she might think the last three months were a mistake. "This isn't happening. You're dead. I know you're dead." "Death is very liberating. I've got to tell you some of the things I've seen, but not now. This is happening, Scully. I promised you I wouldn't ditch you again. You didn't believe me." Scully reached out a shaking hand, and touched his shoulder. "But you're real... you're solid. I can feel you." Mulder nodded. "That's because you now know I'm here and at least part of you accepts it. You are talking to me after all. I've been trying to get your attention for three months." She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, against the wall. "This is crazy. I should have known, if anyone in the world could come back from the dead to say 'I told you so' it would be you." "Well, technically I'm not back. I'm here... but not in any permanantly solid physicality. Angie thinks it's a combination of unfinished business, strong ties to the living, honor and stubborness." "You... you're a ghost?" Scully reached out again, touching his cheek. It felt smooth and warm and solid. He leaned in toward her. "Boo." "But ghosts aren't real." "In that case, you really are talking to a figment of your imagination and in serious psychological trouble. Except, you're not the only one who can see me." Scully blinked rapidly. "I'm not? Well, that will help me assure myself that I'm not suffering a lapse in sanity." "Angie Hagenboum has been talking to me, keeping me sane for the last three months." "Angie Hagenboum from next door?" Scully tucked her chin in and looked at her hands. "Great! Mrs. Hagenboum wandered outside in her underwear last winter. She has Alzheimer's. She talks to her dead husband." "Bingo. I've met George. Nice guy, sick sense of humor, though. Keeps standing behind his daughter making faces in an attempt to break Angie up while Donna's talking to her." Mulder grinned. "My sanity can be confirmed by a woman who tried to wear her table centerpiece to church as a hat? This does nothing to relieve my apprehension." "Tough. You're stuck with me. Now that you do see me you can't ignore me anymore. Well, you can, but you can't NOT see me." "You're telling me you plan on haunting me?" She actually looked worried. "Why?" "Haunting is such a negative term. I don't plan on banging on your walls at all hours of the night or making your sink drip blood." He touched her arm, trying to communicate how he felt. It wasn't easy. Even dead, talking to her about personal feelings wasn't easy. "I'm not about to leave you though. You didn't want me to ditch you. Now an exorcist couldn't get rid of me." "Why? Am I being punished?" "Do you consider me a punishment?" He looked as if she'd just slapped him. "No. Yes. I don't know. This isn't exactly easy to deal with." She buried her head in her hands. Call the men in the white coats. Dana Scully's having tea with the Mad Hatter. Clean cup! Clean cup! Move down! "Try it from my side. And you're actually handling this a hell of a lot better than I thought you would," he drawled. "Oh God, Mulder... I'm so sorry. I've regretted that stupid fight every second of every day for the past three months. I wouldn't have left. My God, I kiled you, Mulder. If it hadn't been fotr that stupid fight... if I hadn't been making ultimatums..." He shook his head. "You weren't responsible. I was. I was the one behind the wheel. I'm the one who wasn't paying attention to the road. It's because of me you were hurt. It's because of me you've been suffering. One thing about being dead, Scully, you have a lot of time to think. You were right. I was selfish and dependent. But it was more than that." He placed his fingers under her chin and turned her to face him. Glorying in the fact that he could, that he was able to touch someone besides Mrs. Hagenboum, and that person was his Scully. She tried to shake her head, to deny what she knew he was about to say when she had barely fought the idea of talking to his ghost. "Yes. I was an idiot. I kept thinking we had time. I was afraid. But you meant more to me than my own life. You mean more to me than death. I kept ditching you in the hopes you wouldn't get hurt. I hadn't realized that I was the one doing the hurting. I'm the one who's sorry, Dana. I... I love you. I have loved you for a long time now." She shoved him off the bed. OK, there were drawbacks to being a bit more corporeal then he had been. "You bastard! How dare you? How dare you show up here, tell me I'm seeing ghosts then tell me you loved me three months too late? When there's no chance of any kind of future for us? Jesus, even dead, you're a prick." He was dead. dead. It was a finality. She was going insane. Or dreaming. Either way this was getting to be too much. Too much for her to handle. Mulder picked himself up off the floor. "Because it isn't too late. I had thought it was, but it isn't. Because it's time to correct all the regrets I can. I regret not telling you. I can't go back and change that. But I have the opportunity to correct that now." "How can you correct it, Mulder? You're dead. You're Casper in an Armani. You ran out of time three months ago." He grabbed her wrist and yanked her up off the bed, giving her time to stand. "Can you feel that?" Her eyes filled with tears again. "Yes." He reached out with his other hand and cupped her cheek moved his hand to slide his fingers down the side of her throat, feeling her pulse beat beneath his fingertips. "Can you feel this?" She bit back a sob. "Yes." He pulled her close, feeling her pressed against him for the first time since... Congress. It felt wonderful. Being dead makes you bold, he thought. Just before he bent down to claim her mouth with his own. If either of them noticed his aura flare neither commented on it. He felt good and warm and solid and real. His lips were soft, yet demanding as he slanted his mouth over hers. His tongue tracing the outline of her lips, asking for entrance. She gave in. He tasted of coffee and sunflower seeds and himself. Wonderful. Real. He stole away her mind as he infused her body with desire. She'd wanted him for almost four years. She'd wanted to kiss him, to hold him. She'd fantasized about him. Yet she never gave in. Too many consequences. Now... now there were none. No consequences. Only herself, and him, and four years of yearning topped by three months of grief and regret exploded through her. If this was a dream the alarm clock better not go off. He pulled away, allowing her to breathe. "Did you feel that?" It took her a few seconds to find her voice. "Oh yeah." He smiled and bent down again, his mouth just millimeters from her own he spoke. She even imagined she could feel his breath on her face. "Then how can you say we have no future? It's unconventional, but when have we ever been conventional?" She could find no argument forthcoming as he kissed her again. Forever is our today. Who wants to live forever? Who wants to live forever? Forever is our today. Who has forever anyway? ---------------------------------------- Fox Mulder was dead. Fox Mulder had been dead for three months. Fox Mulder was also standing in her bedroom tormenting her as he never had in life. He was tasting her lips with his. Sampling the forbidden fruit and finding it unbearably sweet. Dana trembled as he deepened the kiss, his tip of his tongue lightly tracing the edges of her mouth. She moaned, wanting more. Needing more. If this was insanity she'd happily live surrounded by padded walls. Please pass the straight jacket. He softly suckled on her bottom lip. Finally she felt him move the kiss up in intensity. He molded her mouth to his, plunging his tongue deep within. Their tongues battled for dominance, sliding, twisting, entwining. Mulder won when she felt his hands trace the outline of her breasts. She moaned into his mouth. Without breaking the kiss he pulled her camisole from her pants and began to slide it up her body. He had to break the kiss to slip it over her head. Breaking the kiss gave her a few seconds to think. "Mulder..." "No excuses, Scully. I won't let you run away. Just answer yes or no. Do you want me?" "It's not that easy, it's..." "Yes or no. One word. Yes. Or no." He wasn't playing fair. Even as he asked he unclasped the front hook of her bra. Allowed his fingers to whisper over her flesh, to brush against her nipples as he pushed the bits of satin aside. She closed her eyes. Let it go. If it was a dream then there was no harm in dreaming. If it was real... then there was a ghost in her apartment, touching her breasts, trying to do what he hadn't in life. No rules to hold them back, no risk at all. Oh Lord, her life had just become one giant X-File. She felt his hands on her breasts and whimpered. At first weighing and measuring, seeming to note how they exactly fit to his hands, claiming them, claiming her. His hands and her breasts seemed made for one another. His thumbs, both demanding and gentle, brushed over her already taut nipples, sending shockwaves of sensation through her. "Yes or no, Scully?" She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "Yes." Her voice sounded rough, husky to her own ears. She became lost in a fog of sensuality. It was as if he had somehow pulled her within himself. On one level she felt him pull her close, felt the fabric of his suitcoat and shirt abrade her sensitive nipples, felt his lips brush along her throat. His hands touching, tracing, memorizing. Flowing over her ribs, following her spine, flowing over her buttocks to cup and pull her close. Oh my! Nothing spiritual about what she felt pressed against her. Yet on another, more profound level, she was surrounded by him, embraced by him, no part of her untouched by his essence. She was wrapped in a cocoon that WAS Fox Mulder. Warm and safe and protected. And loved. God, she could feel it, the emotion a charge that seeped into her bones. She could smell him, smell his hair, the faint hint of Polo, the warm, musky, male scent that was him alone. It was so real. Too real. No dream this. Then he was on his knees before her. His hands again on her breasts, framing them, cupping them, lifting them. Then his mouth, hot and wet and exquisite. First falling softly into the valley between her breasts, his tongue darting out to taste her skin, making her breath catch. She felt him undo the clasp and zipper of her pants, barely felt them and her underwear slide down her legs as his mouth fell on the underside of her breast, kissing, licking, his nose nuzzling her. His hands were at her back now, holding her to him as he finally took one rosy tip into his mouth. She cried out as her knees went weak, but he supported her, uplifted her, held her up and held her together. Desire was so thick it began to suffocate her with its weight. She was melting and pooling and drowning in it. Her hands clasped his head and she could feel the short, silky hairs tickle her palms. Did she want him, he had asked. It had gone far beyond want. She needed him. He was as essential to her as air, as food, as the very blood beating in her veins. Then she was being lifted and deposited, gently, on her bed. When he pulled back a bit she was surprised to see he too was now naked. "How'd you do that?" She asked even as her eyes drank in the sight, noticing the anomalies. No scars. She'd seen him naked before. She knew where each of his scars were. The ones across his ribs from a beast woman in New Jersey, the long, messy one on his inner thigh from a near fatal gunshot wound in their first year as partners, the one on his shoulder from the bullet she had delivered. Now there were none. His smile was slight and there was mischief in his eyes. "There are lots of things I can do." But he didn't stop to demonstrate. His hands and mouth were everywhere. She felt her own limbs grow heavy with the force of the desire he aroused in her. She worked against the leaden sensation, feeling the need to touch and taste in return. It seemed they explored for an eternity. Lost somewhere beyond time and space. Some place beyond life or death. An eternal place of joy where only they and the pleasure they brought existed. When at long last she felt him sheath himself inside of her she cried out with the perfect beauty of it. Nothing else mattered. Just him, her and the way they moved together. Each stroke touching not only her body, but her soul. And when she came the world shattered and fell around her. It was blinding in its intensity, deafening in its completion, agonizing in its perfection. She lay there, enveloped by him, being held, somehow, by more than his arms. Her own heartbeat pounding in her ears as it gradually slowed, as did her breathing. "Is this considered necrophilia?" She asked as his fingertips traced the surgical scar over her ribs. He teased her earlobe with his lips. His tongue traced the whorls of her ear. "I don't think so. I'm a ghost not a corpse. More along the lines of a spiritual visitation. Your own personal, non-threatening incubus." "I don't want this to end. I don't want to wake up." She gasped as his fingers traced idle patterns on her skin. "You're not dreaming, and I'm not going anywhere." XXX The morning sun filtered through the windows of the building. Mulder didn't bother to knock, but simply walked right through the door of Apartment 37. Scully had asked him to allow her some time to sort things out. She needed it. But he knew he wasn't about to let go, not now, not ever. He was shocked as he walked into the living room. The air was heavy with something. Neither good nor evil, just there. Ominous. Changing. Angie Hagenboum lay on the floor next to her chair. Her knitting lay half across her. Mulder rushed to her side. Her eyes kept shifting focus. "Hold on, Angie. I'm going to get Dana. Just hold on." Her hand grasped his arm, at first with strength, then just to lay against his limb. "No. It's time. Long past it." She smiled weakly. "I take it you got through to your young lady." Mulder was surprised to feel tears on his cheeks. "Yes. She's adjusting. I think everything is going to be all right." Angie smiled fully and he felt the other presence. Mulder turned to see George standing behind him. Not the seventy five year old George he was used to, but George as he must have been in his prime. Tall and athletic, blonde and tanned. "Angie, love, it's time." He held out his hand. "No more confusion." Mulder backed away. It wasn't a hand lined with age and swollen joints that grasped George's, but long, slender fingers, firm, supple flesh. Angie's spirit sat up and George helped her to her feet. She was beautiful. Young and vibrant and radiantly happy. She turned to Mulder and smiled. "It's OK, Fox. He's waited a long time for me. You may have to wait longer for Dana, but it'll be worth it." George winked at him and gathered his wife close. There was a blinding flash of light and a roaring in Mulder's ears. They were gone. "Mom?" Donna walked into the room. "MOM!" Mulder moved away as Donna fell to her knees beside her mother's lifeless body. "Mom... please." She cradled her head and stroked the wiry gray hair. Mulder left her to her grief. It was a thing for the living. He knew she would see her mother again some day. And the only tears he found were those of happiness, for his friend and her husband. XXX Dana Scully walked into the basement office with a much lighter step than when she had last left it. The office chair swung around and Mulder held up the file she'd been considering taking. "Florida? Sunny beaches? You in a bikini? When do we leave?" He was wearing jeans and a black turtleneck, not his suit. She frowned. He looked down at himself. "Hey, I don't HAVE to wear them anymore. Only you can see me." He grinned. "We leave tomorrow and if you think I'm getting into a bikini, you're out of your mind." She snatched the file from him and almost laughed at a passing thought. If the X-Files office really was under any kind of video surveillance Mulder was going to have the people watching her shitting in their pants. Objects floating around the room and self propelling chairs would keep them guessing for a good long time. She was still trying to figure out why he could only do it when in the presence of someone who could see him. There were lots of things they were going to have to figure out. "Have I told you I've been to this vault under the Pentagon that's holding almost every bit of evidence to ever go missing on us? I also followed Cancerman home and watched him key into his computer. I know half his passwords. Being dead definitely has its perks." He smirked. "I think we're about to give the Consortium hell." She couldn't help it. She laughed. She had to. It looked like she was stuck with him forever. And she didn't mind one bit. She loved him. Not many people dared to love forever. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX TITLE: Covenant II: Monsters CATEGORY: X,MSR,A Disclaimer: CC (Carter not DeVil), FOX (sans Hound), and 10/13 (desperately missing 11 and 12 - if you've seen them they're offering a reward) own them. I've just molded them to my own demented world born of too much coffee, too little sleep, way too many re-runs of "The Ghost and Mrs. Muir" and a need for personal vindication. The song "Silent Lucidity" quoted before each part belongs to Queensryche. Rating: Strong R, maybe NC-17. Definite violence and darkness. Bad language. And of course, sex. WARNING!!!: This story deals with child abuse in many forms. Including sexual abuse. This kind of abuse is NOT described. I can't make myself describe it. But it is not for the weak of heart all the same. Again, child abuse is a central theme here, including sexual abuse. You have been warned. Category: X, MSR, A Summary: Sequel to "Covenant". While exploring all the levels of their 'new' partnership Scully takes on a case involving deaths strange enough no one can deny they are X-Files. Their only link, abused children. Their only lead. A child who can see Mulder. Not all Monsters live in closets. Reading Covenant prior to this story might be a good idea. Thanks to the Beta Readers on the Beta Readers Circle. They were an enormous help. They provide free Beta Reading and editing to any and all authors. You can avail yourself of this service by writing to klietz@ford.com. Also thanks to the Rhino Readers, once again you girls are the best. Dedication: I don't often do this but this story is personal. This story is dedicated to my sister, Megan Carson, who is the strongest person I know. I may be the eldest, but she will always be the strongest and the one who kept me sane. This story is dedicated to the survivors. To Nancy, who listens. And lastly, this story is dedicated to 100 feet of lilac bramble that once stood a block from my house. This place had many forms, but the most important was sanctuary. Everyone deserves a lilac bramble of their own. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Hush now don't you cry Wipe away the teardrop from your eye You're lying safe in bed It was all a bad dream Spinning in your head ------------------------------- 102 VALENTINE ST HADLEY, PA OCTOBER 20 8:30 P.M. Eight-year-old Kally Carlson curled herself into a tight ball in the middle of her bed. She didn't know which she feared more, the soft scratching coming from her closet or the sound of her father's footfalls on the stairs. ::Scritch, Scritch:: Her eyes darted to the closed closet door. In the darkness of her room the shadows seemed to move. And they seemed to converge and pool before her closet. The soft scraping sound wasn't quite as soft any more. Too loud for mice or rats. ::Thump, Thump:: No, not Daddy. If she closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep he'd only hurt her more for not waiting up for him. She wanted to run away. She wanted to hide in the bramble. But she couldn't. Daddy stood between her and that escape. She couldn't even hide in her closet. ::Scritch, Scritch, SKreeeeeeek:: Kally began to shake. Her silent tears were absorbed by her pillow. Ever since Mommy died there had been no hope. No light. No release. ::Thump, Thump:: The door handle turned and Kally sat upright in bed, clutching her sheets to her chest with knuckles gone white. Daddy was here. Suddenly the closet seemed a safe place. "You ready for me, bitch? Just like your whore momma, ain't ya?" He reached for the buckle of his belt and Kally swallowed around the lump in her throat, closing her eyes. She was going away again. Into that beautiful place where the unicorns played by the stream. The sun always shone brightly in that place. There was no fear. No pain. Just her and the unicorns and the gentle water. The last thing she felt before jumping onto the unicorn's back for a ride was the heavy weight that settled onto the side of the bed. The last thing she heard was the closet doors splinter open and then the screaming started. X J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING WASHINGTON, D.C. OCTOBER 21 8:10 A.M. Dana Scully was worried. She was afraid she was going insane. If she was, how would she know? The nature of her doubts was such that talking to anyone about them would only serve to make the listener certain she was insane. Trying to prove one's sanity to oneself was NOT an easy proposition. She couldn't even tell Mulder about her doubts. Mainly because he was the cause of them, and if she were not insane, he didn't need any more guilt on his plate. The guilt of making her doubt her own mind. The cause of her self doubt, her perceived possible insanity was currently sitting on the corner of his desk, reading through an X-File. He appeared to be unaware of the havoc he was wrecking on her mental well being. Why would her own partner, best friend, and - for the past month - lover make her doubt her sanity? It was very simple. He insisted on coming in to work every day like a good little FBI agent. He insisted on talking to her, on running surveillance on their enemies, and on spending four nights out of seven making her scream. Not with fear or anger, although sometimes with frustration, but with pleasure such as she'd never known. Which would be all very well and good if Fox William Mulder hadn't died in a car crash four months ago. Dana Scully was not only seeing a ghost on a regular basis, she was working with one, talking to one, and making love to one. And she was the only one who could see him. He claimed someone else once had, but that tenuous proof of her mental health was snatched away the very morning after she first saw him. Her eighty-three year old neighbor had died of a heart attack, and was unable to confirm or deny that Fox Mulder had ever talked to her from beyond the grave. All in all it was very disconcerting and enough to make her doubt her perceptions and mental health. And self doubt was not something Dana Scully was familiar with. She'd always been very strong in her convictions. Her view was that everything could be explained by science if one tried hard enough. She's once said that nothing existed outside of nature, only outside of what we know of it. Having a ghost for a partner was really pushing the envelope. She needed her scientific proof. Because without it she was left adrift with only her faith to hold her. And that was tenuous at best at the moment. Which is why they ran the tests. She might not be able to talk to Mulder about her personal fears, but he seemed to perceive them anyway. He kept assuring her that he was as telepathic as her coffee table, and so couldn't read minds -- hers or anyone else's. His perceptions were simply based on how well he knew her. Scully looked down at the list of physical proof: solid empirical evidence that she was indeed of sound mind. They'd used equipment both ordinary and strange, Mulder telling her how to obtain some of the more unusual items. The first proof was that a barometer registered a one to two point increase in pressure whenever Mulder was in a room, or within a fifty foot radius outdoors. The second was that infrared scanning picked him up. Sort of. Just barely. His presence was a cool spot, about five degrees cooler than whatever he was around. The image was faint, but there. And that fact she found odd as he felt warm to her touch. On this point she wanted outside assurance that her mind wasn't tricking her, so they shot a few infrared pictures. She presented the photos to the Gunmen telling them they were for a case she was working on. The three men had been wonderful in the past four months. They accepted her as Mulder's heir, and had tried to offer what comfort they could. So far the best comfort they had offered was noticing the cooler image in a roughly human form right away. They saw it. Thus, in a way, they saw Mulder. It was the best proof she had as of yet. Other tests produced varying results. Mulder found electromagnetic emissions ticklish. But for her he'd stood in the way of various people and allowed them to pass right through him. She'd noticed that many of them shivered as they passed some even stopping and taking a look back. She'd stopped those tests though, since they created some side effects Mulder could only describe as nausea. But all over. They'd also learned the hard way that if he passed any part of himself through electronic equipment it went haywire. Her VCR threw sparks and had to be replaced, while her TV only became snowy and flickered. The office computer sparked and sizzled and had to be replaced because its memory was erased. He had similar erasing effects on audio and video tapes as well as computer disks. They were fine if she was around and he only touched the outside to manipulate them, but if he concentrated and passed THROUGH them, poof. Major damage. And he could manipulate physical objects, but only when she was around. Mulder's theories were either that he was somehow tapping into a latent telekinetic ability within her, or her ability to see him made some sort of bridge between the physical world and the non physical. She, frankly, didn't believe she had any telekinetic abilities so if she had to choose she'd go with the second theory. As yet unproven. She had a bunch of pictures of him moving physical objects. But she couldn't show them to anyone. Partly because she didn't want to draw too much attention to Mulder, if he was real. He wasn't a performing monkey, knocking on walls to impress the easily impressible. And partly because she didn't want to damage her own credibility. So far she had been able to act somewhat normal when around others. She didn't tune Mulder out, but she'd managed to not look at him, to focus on the real world where people didn't glow with a faint blue light or walk through walls. She had so far managed to ask him questions veiled in conversation with other, living, people. The only thing she hadn't been able to disguise was her inability to sustain her grief. Her mother was worried, and Skinner seemed to watch her closely. Maybe they were afraid she was locking it in and letting it fester. She could hardly explain why she didn't grieve anymore, why she was able to put Mulder's death behind her. That it was almost like nothing had happened. He was still there. She hoped he was still there. She glanced down at her list. Actual proof. Solid, empirical evidence. She was NOT insane. The phone ringing startled her and she jumped a bit. "Want me to get that?" Mulder grinned at her from his perch on the desk. She just glared as she snatched the receiver up. "Scully." She nodded. "Yes, sir. Right away." Hanging up she turned to her late partner. "Skinner. I...we...have an assignment." 102 VALENTINE ST HADLEY, PA OCTOBER 21 5:00 P.M. An officer was waiting for her outside of the house. If he hadn't been there, she still would have known it to be the right place. The yellow police tape decorated it in bright ribbons. All done up for a party. Or the dance macabre. "Be good," were the last words she spoke directly to Mulder before getting out of the car. She had received no pictures of the crime scene, only a very strange report. The body had not yet been removed from the house for one simple reason, they had spent most of the day trying to find a contractor to do it. "Dana Scully. I'm with the Bureau." She held up her badge. "Donald Flowers. I'm from the State Police. They aren't equipped to handle homicide out here." He led her up the porch stairs and through the front door, which opened into a neatly ordered kitchen. "And while I worked three homicides in the city there is no way I can handle this. I called a friend who called some friends. Eventually I heard about you and the cases you handle. Watch it." He pointed to a puddle of dried blood under the doorway to the stairs. She could see the small, dark stained footprints of a child across the rug. She stepped over the puddle and followed the cop up the stairs. There were sounds of a buzz saw coming from one of the bedrooms. "Something doesn't feel right here, Scully." She cast a very quick glance at Mulder in the guise of surveying the hallway. He stood next to her, frowning at the room the noise was coming from. "It's...cold. Weird. Like I just stepped out of the sewer after that flukeman thing only worse. Something happened here. Something so terrible it leaves an impression I can pick up." She raised an eyebrow in his direction. It was both questioning and mocking. She followed the cop into a bedroom. Stuffed animals were piled in one corner. Clothing and hangers were scattered about. Her immediate reaction was to marvel at the lack of blood. If this was where the murder had taken place, then why was the blood pooled downstairs, albeit directly under this room? There were two men working in the closet, where the smell of blood and sawdust was strong. One of the men in the closet jumped back and moved quickly away, pushing past her to get to the bathroom across the hall. He was immediately noisily sick into the toilet. "Mike, move outta the way, let the lady see." Don Flowers gestured the other man back. "Are you sure man? I mean this isn't something a lady SHOULD see." The man Flowers had called Mike set down his buzz saw and blocked the view. "I'm with the FBI and a trained pathologist. Why hasn't the body been moved already?" Mike moved out of the way and a startled gasp came involuntarily from Scully's lips. She'd seen death in many forms. Plenty of them violent and gruesome. Nothing she'd seen before could prepare her for this. The body was half submerged in the back wall of the closet. Mike and his companion had been attempting to cut out the wall surrounding it. The corpse's face was contorted into a silent scream up to the point where it merged with the cheap wood panel. Half an arm emerged from the wood paneling, reaching for help. A knee poked out below it. It looked as if the man were caught trying to escape the wall itself. Everywhere the body merged with the wall, there was dried blood. The closet was directly over the pooled blood downstairs. "Looks like a bad Han Solo imitation." Mulder moved past her to peer at the body. She fought down the urge to jump when Mulder stuck his whole head through the back wall. Damn. She wished he wouldn't do that. It was...spooky. He pulled his head back and looked at her. She moved next to him and made a show of examining the corpse. "Um... Scully, he's all in there. You should have them check the back of the house, his foot is sticking out in the back. But he wasn't shoved into the wall. He's become part of it. As far as I can see the beams pass through him, so does the insulation and the siding in the back." "Has anyone checked the back of the house. The walls aren't that thick." Scully looked at Flowers and he shook his head. "Hey Mike, go take a look. If there's anything there, give me a holler and I'll have a team come back and give it the treatment." Mike nodded and seemed happy to leave the room. "You ever see anything like this before, Agent Scully?" Flowers looked over her shoulder. "No. Never. I'd like to do the autopsy though." "Fine by me." Flowers shrugged and dug out a cigarette. "Hope you don't mind if I skip it. This is gonna give me enough nightmares." "I think we can agree whatever did this was NOT human." Mulder moved away to survey the room. "It might be what's giving me the willies about this room, but it feels, I dunno, older than the body. Something really bad's happened here, and it wasn't this guy getting eaten by the house." "You said there was a witness?" Scully looked only at Flowers. "Yeah. A little girl. She wandered out of the house around ten last night and walked barefoot down the street in her nightgown. Neighbors saw her and one lady followed her. Found her curled up in a large bramble of lilac bushes 'bout a block away. She was white as a sheet and shocky. She had blood on the shoulder of her nightgown and blood on her feet. They have her at the Community Medical Center. She is mostly unresponsive. What she does respond to is men. She shrinks away from them. They have all female docs and nurses on her." He shook his head. "I'll give you the report on her physical, but I hope you gotta strong stomach. If that bastard weren't dead...I'd most likely shoot him myself." Scully looked back at the imbedded corpse. "I knew it felt older. Repetitive abuse took place in this room. Over a long period of time." Mulder muttered. "Shit." He didn't bother to use the door. He just walked through the side wall, leaving Scully alone with the cop and a hundred questions of her own. end part 1.... Covenant II: Monsters by Rhondda Lake (part 2/8) Your mind tricked you to feel the pain Of someone close to you leaving the game of life So here it is, another chance Wide awake you face the day Your dream is over...or has it just begun? -------------------------------------------------------- Scully found Mulder on the front porch, waiting. He'd been good to his promise. He didn't ditch her anymore. He hadn't let death separate them, and he wouldn't let being upset push him into breaking his vow, either. "So what now?" Flowers tossed away his cigarette and stood with his hands on his hips. Scully handed him her card. "You call me as soon as the body is cut free and brought to the morgue. I want to do the autopsy as soon as possible. Now, I'm going to go talk to the witness. I have a feeling I'd better do that alone." She inclined her head to Flowers. "You said men make her nervous." She ignored Mulder until they were away from the house and on the road to the hospital. "So now you're telling me you can feel things, that you're psychic. You told me you couldn't read minds." Her hands tightened on the wheel. She was having a hard enough time dealing with a ghost only she could see, a psychic ghost was just too much. "No. I still can't read minds. I couldn't tell what had happened in that room. Only that it was bad. Sick. Vile. No visual images, no insight other than a filthy feeling. A build up of some sort. Maybe places where evil happens can hold some sort of residual memory. A lasting stain or something." Mulder pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger, tugging at it as he thought. "I don't know how else to describe it, Scully. Maybe I am more sensitive to things than I was when I was...I mean I'm no longer strictly in the physical world. Even you have to admit that. I mean, face it, Scully...I AM a paranormal experience right now. If a person can defy death, just refuse to move on, isn't it possible strong emotions can do the same? Leave their mark." Scully licked her lips. "Love never dies." "Poetic, Scully, but true." He smiled at her. "Not poetic. It was the catch phrase for the movie Bram Stoker's Dracula." She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "So, following your theory the emotions involved in this abuse scenario were trapped in that room. And you could feel that?" "Love isn't the only thing that never dies. Anger, hate, fear, all are strong motivators. And since I'm at least partially in that...plane of existence... sharing paranormal space with such a strong impression, it isn't unreasonable that I would be able to perceive it." "Ok, great swami, why did our witness leave the house and walk to a lilac bramble?" Scully turned off the highway when she saw the signs for the hospital. "Maybe it's where she escaped. Her father abused her, so she needed a sanctuary. Maybe she hid there. She was in shock, so she headed for her safe place." Mulder looked out the window, lost in his own contemplations. That he had felt anything was unsettling. But what he felt...made him sick. The very familiarity of it. The way it pulled it him and forced him to remember a long ago time. He knew a variation of that feeling. He didn't ever want to feel it again. The helplessness. The fear. The pain. Part of him already strongly sympathized with the little girl involved here. He felt absolutely no sympathy for the murder victim. Which, from a profiling viewpoint, was very bad indeed. If he couldn't regain his perspective he might be useless here. XXX COMMUNITY MEDICAL CENTER SCRANTON, PA 6:38 P.M. Kally had her arms wrapped around her legs and her head resting on her knees. Her eyes were riveted on the little boy in the crib at the far end of the pediatrics ward. He was three or so, and slept fitfully. When awake his eyes were dull. There was a bruise on his cheek and a matched pair on his arms. His mommy had gotten fed up when he wouldn't stop crying. She had hit him. Kally sighed. Even she knew hitting a baby wasn't going to make them STOP crying. Kally was bright. She could read beyond her own third grade level. She'd snuck out of bed and looked at the little boy's chart. Most of it was confusing. Big words of big people. She did understand brain damage. She understood the words scrawled followed by a question mark. Shaken Baby Syndrome. His mommy had shaken him so hard his brain got bruised. She didn't know how she knew that. She just did. She looked around. She shared this room with six others, including the little boy. Mostly because the hospital people didn't know who was going to pay for her staying there. Right now the other five kids were with their families in visiting rooms or having tests done. She unfolded herself and walked silently to the crib. She had to climb up, balancing herself on the base of the rails, in order to reach over and stroke the little boy's bruised cheek. His hair was fluffy white and full of big curls. She smiled. "If your mommy doesn't love you, I will. My mommy would have loved you." She whispered, so as not to alert the nurse with the pills. "When the grown ups hurt us, sometimes all we have is each other." Kally heard the nurse coming, talking with someone. She jumped down from the crib and ran to her funny bed. The one with sides on it like the baby's crib. The nurse came to the door followed by a pretty lady and... someone else. Kally's eyes got wide as she looked. It was a man. But he was glowing. Like an angel. * Scully's heart went out to the little girl sitting on her hospital bed. She was thin, and had dark circles under her large, blue eyes. Her dark hair was pulled back in a thick braid. She looked terrified. Dana felt her gut clench in anger as she recalled what she'd seen on this child's medical files. The worst of it wasn't the right arm that had been broken three times in as many years, or the signs of mended ribs. Where HAD the doctors been when she was brought in for those, anyway? Asleep? The symptoms of abuse were easy enough to see. No, the worst of it was from an exam prompted by the child's fear of men, and evidence of spotting on her panties. This little girl, this tiny human being so dependent on the world of adults, might never have children of her own. Scully hoped and prayed that Barry Carlson was just starting his eternity in Hell for what he had done. To his own child. Just reading that chart had shaken Scully to the core. If Mulder hadn't been there, putting a supporting hand on her shoulder, she might have run off somewhere to cry in privacy. As it was that would come later. She might be strong and professional, but she was only human, for Christ's sakes. And what she had read made her sick. Made her want to hug this child so tightly she'd never let go. Wanted to protect her from a past that was immutable. "Can I talk to her alone?" Scully asked the nurse beside her. "Kally, honey, this is Special Agent Dana Scully. She's with the FBI. She's like the nice police ladies you talked to. Would you mind talking to her?" Kally shrugged but remained silent. "Just call me if you need me, or ring the buzzer, okay?" The nurse stepped forward to place the oblong button unit in the child's hand. As the nurse left, Scully crossed the room slowly and sat on the end of Kally's bed. Giving her distance, yet close enough for confiding. "Kally, do you know why you're in the hospital?" Scully started out slowly. If the child couldn't recall then the questions ended here. She wasn't going to push. The poor thing didn't need any more trauma in her life. Kally nodded. "Because the monster ate my daddy." Her voice was small, barely a whisper. "The monster?" Scully cocked her head to one side, trying to understand. "Are you an Angel?" The child looked right past Scully. Dana turned to see an empty room...and Mulder. He was frowning and had that little line between his brows. "Can you see me?" he asked. Scully knew he wasn't talking to her. "Uh-huh. Are you? An Angel?" Kally didn't seem to be afraid. Scully was lost. Oh Lord. Son of a bitch. Christ. Her sanity had just been confirmed by an eight year old. She could see Mulder. Somehow, someway, she could see Mulder. Then the absurdity of the child's question hit her, mixed with the stunned, hit-in-the-back-of-the-head-with-a-brick expression on Mulder's face, she felt the laugh bubble up before she could catch it. Too many emotions. She'd run the gauntlet of them today. The relief and joy raced through her. A small laugh escaped her and Mulder and Kally both looked at her like she had just eaten a cricket. "Kally, I seriously doubt he's anything as divine as an Angel," Scully explained with a grin. "Go ahead, boost my ego, Scully." Mulder muttered. "You really can see him?" Scully asked, trying to...no, NEEDING to confirm it. "Yes. He's right behind you." Kally frowned, not understanding the reason for the question. "Can you describe him?" Scully pressed. This, at least, was safe ground. The harder questions needed to be asked yet. But for now this might draw Kally out as well as take a four-month-long burden off Scully's mind. "He's tall, dark hair, kinda big nose, square face and he has a dot on his cheek. He's wearing blue jeans and a black V-necked sweater over a white T-shirt." Scully really wanted to hug this remarkable child. That was exactly what Mulder looked like right now. "Kally, it may not be a good idea for you to tell people you can see me. It's your choice. I know you've kept too many secrets. Ones that shouldn't have been kept. So it's your call." Mulder stepped a little closer to the bed and the girl did not back away. She nodded. "Because you glow. Other people don't see you, right? Nurse Majors didn't talk to you or look at you." Mulder smiled encouragingly. "That's right. Now...you said a monster ate your father? Did you see it?" "No." Her voice became small again. "I had my eyes closed. I was...There were noises from the closet. Scratches. It scared me. Daddy came to my room to...say goodnight. I had my eyes closed, but I heard the door's smash open and Daddy screaming. Then...I don't remember until Mrs. Chisdok woke me up." Mulder felt what passed for his body clench up. Say goodnight my ass. Scully looked quickly at Mulder and met his eyes. Silently they agreed a lot was going unsaid here. Mulder turned his attention back to Kally. He seemed pleased that she not only saw him, but had no fear of him. "You had your eyes closed, but you weren't asleep. Were you pretending to be asleep? Playing a joke, maybe?" Mulder knelt by the side of the bed, so Kally became the taller one. Giving her the height advantage could help her feel more secure. She shook her head quickly. "No, no. I wouldn't pretend to be asleep." Her eyes were big again. Scully felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Were any of those broken arms from pretending to be asleep? "Then why were your eyes closed? Was it because you were afraid of the thing making the noises in the closet? Or something else? It's okay, Kally...I can keep your secrets, just like you can keep mine." Mulder smiled softly but made no move to touch the child. Kally looked quickly at Scully. "Agent Scully can keep secrets too. She's kept mine for a long time. She's a very nice lady." Mulder assured the young girl. Kally looked down at her hands. Hand that were twisting the bed sheet. "I was going away." Her voice was just audible. Barely. "Going away? To a safe place. To someplace where nothing could hurt you, right? Somewhere sunny and bright." Mulder cocked his head to the side. "Have you been there?" Kally's head snapped up and she looked at him with shock. Now it was Mulder's turn to look down. He inhaled deeply and gripped the side bars tighter. Scully felt her breath catch. Oh dear Lord.... There was a whole huge chunk of his childhood they'd never talked about. She knew him better than anyone, yet she realized, she barely knew his past at all. He looked back up. "I know ABOUT the safe place. It's beautiful. Did you go there a lot?" Kally bit her lip and she didn't meet either agent's eyes. "I don't wanna talk any more. I'm tired." Any protest was cut off by Scully's cell phone. She extracted it from her jacket and answered it. "Scully." She looked at Mulder and nodded. "Good. I'll be right down and waiting for it." She tucked the cell phone away and smiled at Kally. "I have to go now. Would it be okay if we came back to talk to you some other time? We can talk about whatever you want." Kally continued to chew her lip but nodded. Mulder followed Scully into the hall. "I'm assuming that was Flowers on the phone." Scully didn't say anything until they were alone in the elevator. "They got Barry Carlson cut loose and are bringing him to the morgue in this hospital." "I just hope they got ALL of him. That house is gonna be drafty for a while." Mulder leaned against the elevator's rail. "Something tells me it needed airing out anyway." Scully didn't look at him. XXX 1112 SPRING STREET SCRANTON, PA 11:32 P.M. Michael Dodson removed his headphones and kicked off his sneakers before laying back on his bed. To his left, beyond the thin chipboard walls, the furnace clicked on. Michael hated living in the cellar. But since momma had Chucky and Billy, he'd been kicked out to stay down here. He hated his brothers, almost as much as he hated his momma and old man. They were most likely upstairs griping that child welfare services didn't haul him away like they had taken Chucky after Billy got admitted to the hospital. But he'd said he wanted to stay. He was sixteen, and the case worker decided he was old enough to make up his own mind. Bet that fucked up his 'rent's plans. It was their own damn fault they got caught. Billy would most likely be shit stupid for the rest of his life because of momma. With any luck they'd haul him into an institution and keep Chucky in foster care and Michael could get his old room back. He turned off the light and closed his eyes. ::Scritch, Scritch:: There was a rolling sound. Michael switched the light back on and looked around his room. All he needed was goddamn rats. His baseball finished rolling across the floor to rock gently against the wall for a second. His baseball had been shoved under his bed. ::Scritch, Scritch:: The sound was coming from under his bed. A rat. Big sucker, most likely. It must have bumped the ball as it scurried around. Shit. He wasn't gonna sleep in a room with no fucking rats. He jumped out of bed and took one step toward the door when something grabbed his ankle and gave a hard pull. The floor rushed up to meet him. Michael looked back. Whatever had his leg was under the bed. In the dark. It started to pull him. He kicked at it. Whatever it was it was no fucking rat. It was STRONG. "Oh God! HELP!" He clawed at the concrete floor, trying to find purchase and only finding a magazine and a sneaker. "HELP!" He thought he heard footsteps descending the cellar stairs. He wasn't sure though. He was too busy screaming. end part 2... Covenant II: Monsters by Rhondda Lake (Part 3/8) There's a place I like to hide A doorway that I run to in the night Relax child, you were there But only didn't realize it and you were scared ------------------------------------------------------------ COMMUNITY MEDICAL CENTER MORGUE SCRANTON, PA 11:30 P.M. "Agent Scully, there's a problem." Scully finished tucking her hair up into her cap. She stepped through the doors of the autopsy suite and looked questioningly at Henry, the hospital's diener. His job was to remove bodies from storage and prepare them for the pathologist. He was supposed to make the opening incisions and stay there to assist. Henry gestured to the body on the autopsy table. Barry Carlson's body still had an inch of wall encasing it. "Want me to find a hacksaw?" Henry's tone was light but his eyes were nervous. This was the first time Scully had seen the body since it had been freed from the wall. Figuratively. She approached it, unsure for a moment WHAT to do. "Now there is an interesting exhibit for the museum of medical oddities." Mulder was suddenly beside her. She congratulated herself. In a month she'd trained herself not to jump from his sudden appearances. "Couldn't they cut any closer?" Henry seemed to sense that the question was rhetorical, but he felt obliged to point to the corpse's side. A disgusting fusion of flesh and wood, blood-soaked pink insulation, more wood, then blood infused styrofoam insulation. When he had been cut loose they had tried to get in close and sliced into his side by accident, unknowing until he was extricated. "My God... it's like he became part of the wall," she muttered. "I just got the X-Ray film back." Henry lit up the display board and tucked the film into the pins. The material ran throughout the body. "Um... ma'am, I don't want to seem presumptuous, but it might be a good idea to get a few other doctors down here. Witnesses. Because I don't think anyone is gonna believe this." Henry moved to the head of the autopsy table. Scully nodded. He was right. SHE wouldn't believe this if she read a single report from a single pathologist on it. "Yeah, yeah, get at least two witnesses, and find a video camera. I want video on top of the standard photographic record." "Are you all right, Scully?" Mulder had remained at her side. Scully watched Henry exit the autopsy suite before answering. "I'm fine. Just a little unsure how to proceed. I think a hacksaw might actually be in order here. I have never seen anything LIKE this. He's... he's FUSED with the wall. Possibly on a cellular level. WHAT could have done this?" "Good question. And I'm proud to hear you ask what, not who." Mulder leaned in to get a closer look. "No person could have done this, Mulder. This is... this is incredible. Please, just toss a theory at me. I don't think I'd laugh right now if you theorized Captain Kirk tried to beam him up and something went wrong with the transporter." Mulder shook his head. "No. I don't know what could have done this. No theories yet. But I'm working on it. I have the feeling the aura of that room is somehow connected." "Mulder, I don't think phantom emotions did this. What am I saying? I don't know WHAT could do THIS." She fell silent as the doors swung open and Henry reappeared. "I have Doctors Reedy and Druffner on their way. Dr. Reedy has a really advanced video camera they've used to film surgical procedures for education and review. He's gonna bring it down." "Thanks Henry," Dana rolled out the stool and waited. XXX PEDIATRIC WARD 2 Kally clasped at the sheets. Her eyes moved rapidly under their lids. A low moan escaped her lips as she tossed her head. The nurse on duty, Nichole Spencer, noticed this as she passed through the ward. She leaned close to the troubled little girl and made shushing sounds, taking the tiny hand in her own. Grinning at the contrast of the little girl's hand and her own, adorned with green nail polish. She began to sing a soft song. While not quite lullaby material, "I had a Dream" from Les Mis did seem to calm the child. When Kally stilled, the nurse smiled and let go of the girl's hand. Kally moaned again at the loss of human contact. Nichole bit her lip, fearing the girl's nightmare would return. But, sensing no further disquiet, she took a step back and away. The doors at the far end of the ward blew open with a sudden force. Nichole jumped. A great howling wind ripped through the pediatrics group ward, sending papers flying, making machinery clamor with a hundred alarms, waking the children and making them scream with fear. Nichole let out a short cry of fear as the wind tore through. The windows were closed; the night had been calm when she had looked only minutes before. She backed up to brace herself against the wind's force, hooking her arms back around little Billy Dodson's crib, the top rail biting into her back. The cries of the children were drowned out by the howling of the wind. Kally sat upright in her bed and screamed. The wind ended as abruptly as it began. The other children began sobbing over the loud beeping and clamoring of the medical equipment in the room. Kally Carlson continued to scream. A high-pitched wail that rivaled that of the previous wind. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated, her small hands clutching the sheets in a death grip. Doctors and nurses came pouring in from all over to see what the uproar was about. Nichole Spencer peeled herself away from the crib and rushed to Kally's side and did her best to soothe the terrified child. Cooing soft reassurances she herself didn't quite believe. XXX M0RGUE They had tried just about everything. The truth was, there was no way to separate the body and the material from the wall. The fusing made an ordinary autopsy impossible. Dr. Reedy held the video camera steady only by practice. Dr. Druffner assisted Dana, and Henry took the photographic records. In the end they had to use a circular saw. "Cause of death?" Dr. Druffner asked as they peered into the chest cavity, witnessing the human heart half made of wood. "I don't suppose 'becoming architecture' would be acceptable?" Scully looked up. "Well, was he murdered?" Dr. Reedy's voice was not as steady as his camera hand. "Would you call this natural?" Scully alone heard Mulder's voice ask the same question at the same time and she valiantly fought the urge to smile. "He was killed," she continued, "but the definition of murder is the willful taking of a life by another person. Do you think SOME*ONE* is capable of this?" "Agent Scully, I have no desire, whatsoever to find what is capable of THIS." Dr. Reedy assured her. Scully noticed Mulder tense out of the corner of her eye. "Oh shit," he looked at her, "I gotta go back to pediatrics. Something's really wrong up there. And before you ask, I don't know. If you're finished before I am you'll find me there." He simply blinked away. There one second, not the next. Scully licked her lips. "Well, let's see about bagging Mr. Carlson. I think this warrants polymerization and a closer examination then we can preform here." Henry put down the camera he was using and moved in to clean up as Scully and the other two doctors moved to exit the autopsy suite. XXX PEDIATRIC WARD 2 Nichole sat on the bed next to Kally, holding the child close and rocking her back and forth. Kally just stared off into space as far as the nurse could tell. Clean up was going on around them. Other nurses were tending to the frightened children. Kally was suddenly aware of the blue man. The man with the blue glow who had come in with Agent Scully. Her eyes focused on his glow. He looked around him in confusion, then appeared to stare at the floor between Kally's bed and the crib. He walked to some spot she couldn't see and knelt down, running his hand over the floor. He looked up and his eyes met hers. "Are you all right, Kally?" He stood again and approached her. She shook her head and the nurse only held her tighter. "It's back. The monster from my closet is back. I think... I think it's mad. It's... hungry. Don't let it get me." She began to weep softly. Unable to see or hear Mulder, nurse Spencer didn't know what the child was talking about, only that she was afraid and spoke of monsters. "Oh, honey. Monsters aren't real. They're just make believe. It was just the wind in here. Someone opened a window or something." Kally pushed away from the kindhearted nurse, but it wasn't her she was looking at. "They are too real. Monsters are real. One was here tonight." Mulder could only nod. There was a cold spot on the floor. It wasn't a physical cold. It was an emotional chilling. A darkness. Something dark and evil had passed through the floor there. It hadn't been human, of that much he was certain. And if it was a ghost, it was unlike any of the few others he had met in the past four months. If he had to choose one word for what he felt here it would be... malevolent. "I believe you, Kally. But it isn't here now. I think... I think I'd know." He met her eyes solemnly, and there was a spark of understanding between them. Shared experiences, shared pain others couldn't fathom. It was like the bond she had felt with little Billy Dodson. "Where was your safe place?" Kally looked at Mulder. Nurse Spencer shushed her and stroked her hair, oblivious to the second conversation taking place around her. "I didn't have one, honey. Where's yours?" "A spaceship. I used to pretend I was on one of the Apollo missions, or in a space suit taking a spacewalk. I always wanted to be an astronaut as a kid. So... my safe place was in the silent calm of space. Just me floating among all the stars." Mulder knelt before the girl as she was rocked in the nurse's embrace. There were bright tears in his eyes. Kally understood at once that she'd been told a secret. Just between him and her. Because he knew she needed to know. She nodded, understanding. They were the same, yet different. "Did your daddy hurt you, too?" "No, darling. My daddy was a good man." Nurse Spencer smiled into Kally's hair. "Not all Daddy's are bad." Mulder swallowed hard and he looked away from Kally. "Not like... not like your father hurt you. But sometimes I'd make him mad. Very mad. And sometimes he'd hit. I was hurt pretty bad a few times. It didn't happen a lot, but when it did, I'd go to my safe place. He always seemed to feel bad about it later. Sometimes... sometimes I'd get mad at him and make him mad, just so he'd hit me and feel bad later." He met her eyes again. "I was a pretty screwed up kid." Kally smiled. "Is there a club? Where was your mommy?" Nurse Spencer looked at her strangely. "A club for what? My mom is still around. She's a great lady." She looked into Kally's eyes, checking for pupil dilation. "A lot of things had happened." Mulder looked away, unable to meet Kally's eyes. "She didn't want to see what was going on. She was dealing with too much of her own pain. It was... it was hard for her, too. So she just...," he shrugged, "just convinced herself it was normal." "Did you get away?" Kally wouldn't let him off that easily. "Are you ok, honey?" Nurse Spencer looked carefully into Kally's face. The child seemed...disassociative. "Yeah. I got away. Long ago. My dad died two years ago. You know, I still wish he would have been proud of me. I...I loved him anyway." Mulder's small smile was sad, without humor. Kally just nodded. Her attention then focused on the nurse. "I'm okay, now. Thank you." Kally scootched to the side and lay back down. She looked beyond Nurse Spencer once more. "Will you stay here until I go to sleep?" "Sure." Mulder sat on the side of her bed. "Of course I will, honey." Nurse Spencer pulled over a plastic chair and sat down, holding Kally's right hand, unaware that someone else held the child's left. Nurse Spencer serenaded the girl with "The Magical Mister Mistopholese" from Cats, much to Mulder's amusement. end part 3... Warning: This story deals with child abuse of all kinds. It also contains some graphic descriptions of an autopsy. Not for the weak at heart. This section contains NC-17 sexual material. Covenant II: Monsters by Rhondda Lake (part 4/8) It's a place where you will learn To face your fears, retrace the tears And ride the whims of your mind Commanding in another world Suddenly, you hear and see This magic new dimension ----------------------------------- COMMUNITY MEDICAL CENTER PEDIATRICS WARD 2 SCRANTON, PA 2:18 A.M. Scully peered into the room. She'd been informed of the freak wind earlier. The mess had been cleaned up. Now the ward held only the neat rows of beds and the cradle at the end near the door. The children were all sleeping. The staff had left. Mulder sat on the side of Kally Carlson's bed, leaning on the side rail, holding her hand. The child was sound asleep. There was an empty chair next to the bed suggesting a living visitor earlier. Mulder was studying the girl intently, his eyes seemingly glued to her face. Scully frowned. He claimed he was not telepathic, yet he'd known about the trouble up here as it happened. He'd left the morgue at the same time the disturbance was reported. Could he see Kally dream? Could he watch those dreams? Why was he watching her so intently? "Why can she see me, Scully?" His sudden question let her know he was not as totally absorbed as she had thought. His eyes didn't leave the child though. "I don't know. Maybe children are more open, perceptive, than adults. They haven't learned they can't see spirits yet." She stepped closer and looked at the girl herself. In sleep the child was angelic. A beautiful innocent. Tiny and frail. Scully felt another surge of maternal protectiveness entwined with rage at what this child had endured. "I can't accept that theory. I've been around kids before. In the park, all these kids in this ward, and Kally is the only one to see me." He released the child's hand and looked up at Scully. "Not that I'm complaining. I mean you're a wonderful conversationist, Scully, but it's nice to have someone else acknowledge me. Makes me feel real. Sometimes I worry that I'm not. That I'm just a random thought, not a person at all. Never was. It's scary, sometimes." Scully blinked. She hadn't realized, with all her concern over her own sanity, that Mulder might have similar concerns. Jesus, not knowing if you were real was just as bad as not knowing if you were sane. She just hadn't thought... Shit. Usually Mulder was the self-absorbed, insensitive one. Death seemed to have handed him a clue along those lines, but she'd picked up the habit. "All those tests were for your benefit as well as mine, huh?" She touched his shoulder, reassuring both of them. "Mostly for you. I'm not a COMPLETE prick. I saw the doubts creeping in." "What happened in here, Mulder?" Scully changed tack, not wanting to discuss her fears, not now. Later. Later they'd have a long talk. "Something big, mean, and angry as hell swept through. It shifted into... another place I guess you'd call it, there." He stood and pointed to the floor between Kally's bed and the crib. "Something?" She arched a brow at him in a familiar expression. "Kally said it was the Monster from her closet." He nodded when he noticed Scully's eyes dart to the spot on the floor again, a slight tensing of her posture the only sign that she was actually taking this seriously. "Beware the Jabberwock, my son. The Jaws that bite, the claws that catch. Beware the Jubjub bird and shun the frumious Bandersnatch." Mulder placed his hand at the small of Scully's back, guiding her from the room. Scully remained silent until they were once more in the privacy of the elevator. "So you think Berry Carlson tried to follow a white rabbit down the rabbit hole?" "Well if he did we're screwed, Scully. I left my vorpal sword in my other coat." They got into the elevator once more. Scully kept looking at him, staring. "What is it, Scully?" "You knew about this 'Safe Place'. And don't hand me a line about it being in a psychology text somewhere. You knew about it. Like you had been there." She wanted his confidence, his trust. That he had gone through something like this as a child tore at her. Mulder clenched his fists. "I...I can't. Not now. I just can't. Don't try to make me, Scully. You can't possibly understand. Only sympathize, only pity. And I don't want or need your pity. It's over. In the past. Let it rest there." His voice was broken, ragged. Her heart went out to him. "I...I love you, Mulder. I don't pity you. But I want to understand. When you're ready I'm here. I won't judge. I won't push, either. It's just that - is it really left in the past? Is anything?" The doors opened and she stepped out, sparing him the need to answer. * SCRANTON MOTOR INN 2:42 A.M. Scully locked the door behind her and peeled off her suitcoat, heading for the bathroom. Mulder sat on the bed, giving her some privacy. If she had asked him to take a hike he would have gone exploring, as he had in the past. But both of them were upset by this case on many levels. Enough so that they seemed to sense it in each other and respond in kind. Mulder stared blankly at the hotel room wall; his thoughts returning to a dark time he'd forced into a pocket of his mind, not to be dwelled on. Kally had brought all of it to the forefront. In order to reassure her, to really gain her trust, he had to empathize, to make a connection. He had, at his own peril. He smelled whisky, and he couldn't tell if it was from the former occupants of this room or his own memory. //"Why not you? Why didn't you do anything? Useless. That's all you ever were. Nothing but trouble from day one. Too many questions, sticking your damn fool nose where it never belonged. It shoulda been you." Keep quiet. Keep still. If you were very quiet, very still he might forget you were there at all. He was a coward, and he knew it. At thirteen he was almost as tall as the man pacing the room before him, though nowhere near his equal in weight. Why did he always let this happen? Why did he stand there like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming freight train, just waiting for the carnage? Because he deserved it. He was terrified of it, but at the same time something deep down felt it was justified. The sound of shattering glass. The first blow connecting with an arm raised in feeble self defense. Another blow following after, words of rage tumbling out into a cacophony of unintelligible blame and hatred. Agony flowing up the right arm, the feeling of grating accompanied by the sound of a twig breaking somewhere far off. And the stars. Always the comforting stars. Floating among welcoming stars....// "Mulder?" Her voice called him back from the memory of a pain deeper than any physical blow. He looked up at her. Scully had changed into a pair of baggy shorts and a tee shirt for bed. "What happened? You were...fading out. I could actually see through you." She sounded...scared. "Lost in thought. I guess I forgot where I really was for a moment." He stood and embraced her, holding her close. Drawing comfort and strength from her presence. She made him feel worthwhile. She made him strong. Hers was the voice that called to him in the darkness. He was someone because of her, for her. He bent to trace her ear with his lips. He needed to feel worthwhile. He needed to feel loved. He needed to feel. "Mulder?" "Are you exhausted? Do you need to sleep right now?" He had to ask, because while in life he had been an insomniac, now he had no need whatsoever for sleep. He had to keep in mind that she did. "I'm tired, but not THAT tired. I slept on the plane." She pulled back a little. "Talk to me, Mulder." "I don't want to talk. Not right now. I want to feel. I want to make you feel. I want to try something." He kissed her deeply, stifling any argument. Luxuriating in the taste and feel of her. He stripped off her tee shirt. His lips skimmed over her body as he peeled away her shorts. "Mulder? What are you doing?" She stood before him, naked, unashamed, and giving him the same eyebrow arch she'd given him in the hospital. "I thought it was rather obvious." He swept her up and laid her on the bed, on top of the covers. "Hold on," he whispered against her ear, "I'm gonna try something new." She looked at him quizzically when he suddenly disappeared. Scully groaned and smacked the mattress. She really hated it when he did that. Suddenly, out of nowhere, she felt lips graze her shoulder. She gasped at the unexpected sensation. Lips brushed over her ribs, along her thighs. Three, four, five pair of lips she could feel -- kissing her, teasing her. Then came the hands. Stroking her arms, her legs, massaging her breasts, running through her hair. A dozen hands and all those lips, touching, tormenting, exciting. It was turning her bones to water and her blood to fire. Yet, through it all she couldn't see him. She appeared to be alone in the room. No part of her went untouched. Phantom hands caressed her thighs as unseen mouths closed over her nipples, teasing them before gently suckling. Even as this was happening she felt a mouth press a kiss at the juncture of her thighs. The hands on her legs drew them apart, lifting slightly, exposing her. She was writhing, lost in a cloud of sensation when she felt the mouth down there close over her. It was too much. Everything happening at once. Sensory overload. She was going to short circuit. The mouth below sucked on the center of her pleasure as those on her breasts, arms and throat continued their own onslaught. She cried out as a powerful orgasm shook her. She was helpless against it. Tears fell from the corners of her eyes. It was so intense it was close to pain. And then he was there. Holding her. Stroking her hair. Murmuring in her ear. Pressing kisses against her temple, her cheek, kissing away the tears. "What... what was that?" She found her voice again and curled into him, accepting the comfort he offered. The Haven in his arms. "A hell of a lot of concentration. Did you like it?" His fingertips flowed up her hip, her side, the backs of his fingers brushing her breast. "That was... incredible. Where did you learn that?" He smiled softly and kissed her again. The feel of his tongue sweeping her mouth was familiar and comforting. She ran her hands over his arms, feeling the smooth definition of muscle under flesh. Real, solid, warm. She could even feel the hairs on his arms against her palms. She broke the kiss. "You're being evasive." "It was an experiment. To see if I could. But it's tiring." His hand feathered over her stomach, threading through the springy hairs covering her center. "How tiring?" Her own hand smoothed over his hip and she noticed the blue glow that usually surrounded him was...dimmer. A brief flash of worry shot through her before his fingers found her, circled her, teasing and coaxing her back into a fever pitch. "Not THAT tiring." He growled before attacking her throat. Nipping the flesh there, then laving it with his tongue. Her hand found him. He was hard and heavy. Ready for her as she was for him. He'd told her from the start he could feel her, he could experience everything a living man could. He derived as much pleasure from sex as she did. She could believe it from the throbbing pulse she felt in her hand. "Show me." He moved over her and she ran her hands down his back, to curve over his ass. He was in her with one deep thrust. Her legs wrapped around him, urging him on. Needing him to give her this, to give her himself. To erase the horrors of the day. In a world where fathers raped their daughters, where cruelty was so prevalent, they needed this. This proof that there was good in the world. Love in the world. That there was something worth fighting for. When the wave crashed over her again she wasn't alone. Complete, satiated, she nestled against Mulder's side. Sleep descended quickly. * The ringing of a phone woke her. She was surprised to feel Mulder's arms tighten around her. He rarely spent the night in her bed. He tended to go off and run surveillance or follow leads while she slept. It felt good to wake in his arms. "This is nice. But what are you still doing here? Watching me sleep can hardly be very entertaining." Mulder smiled slightly. "Recharging the batteries. Last night...um...drained a lot of power. It was the equivalent of a marathon. I had to rest. I guess even Casper has his limits." "Recharge? How?" "Pretty much by osmosis, I think. I just take it in. It's a sort of waking sleep. Will you answer that?" Mulder gestured to the pile of clothes currently ringing. The phone wasn't going to put up with being ignored. Her cell phone. She looked at her watch on the nightstand and groaned. Eight in the morning. Not even five hours' rest. Whose fault was that, she scolded herself as she slid out of Mulder's embrace. Naked, she crossed the room to her discarded clothes from last night. Digging out her cell phone, she answered it and looked at Mulder. He was watching her with a look that was part amusement and part arousal. Sure enough, his aura was back at full force. She winked at him teasingly. "Scully." She spoke into the phone. Her expression immediately became serious. "When? Yeah, I'll be right there. Give me the address." She pulled a pad of hotel stationary from the desk and quickly scribbled down information. "No! Don't do that. From the last body we have discovered the corpses are fused with the material they are embedded in. If you try that you'll destroy the bodies and possible evidence." She rolled her eyes. "Try finding an archeologist or paleontologist. Because they may have some idea on how to extract the wanted material from rock. Just do it." She hung up and turned to Mulder. "They found more bodies. Three of them. Two of them are half embedded in cement." Mulder ran a hand through his hair. "Want me to meet you there?" Scully considered. He could be looking over the premises, even searching for more 'bad vibes' while she showered and dressed. It was silly for him to wait here, really. "Yeah. Go ahead. I'll be there as soon as I can." He was dressed even as he slid out of the bed. Jeans and a gray tee with the arms ripped off. "Don't take too long." "Get lost, Mulder." He looked at the address she'd scrawled and simply blinked away. end part 4... Date: Tue, 08 Jul 1997 19:28:04 -0400 From: Rhondda Lake Subject: NEW:(5/8)Covenant II: Monsters X,MSR,A Disclaimed in part 1. Warning: This story deals with child abuse in many forms. It also gets into some rather gruesome descriptions of an autopsy. It isn't for the squeamish. Covenant II: Monsters by Rhondda Lake (part 5/8) I will be watching over you I am gonna help you see it through I will protect you in the night I am smiling next to you, in Silent Lucidity ------------------------------------------------------ Mulder loved the freedom of movement his new state of being afforded him. Walking through walls was interesting, even if it did make him feel like he was encased in ice while he passed through anything solid, but teleportation was the best. He only had to visualize a place he'd seen and will himself there. In an eye blink he was there. George Hagenboum, a fellow spirit with a bit more practice at being dead, had taught him the basics of spiritual transportation. Mulder had been enraptured from the first jump, and spent a week jumping back and forth from place to place just for the exhilarating JOY of it. He had spent his life investigating the paranormal, and now, in death, he was having much more fun BEING the paranormal. The only drawback was you had to have BEEN to the place you were jumping to. In order to get somewhere he had never been he had to fly, or float. That was cool too. Floating reminded him of childhood escapes. And who never dreamed of flying? He had no physical form when he did this, and it took longer, as he had to follow a route, streets or whatever. Immediately on leaving Scully to shower and change he blinked into the local Police station's lobby. Scully had gone there first thing yesterday to get directions to the crime scene and report her presence. On the wall of the lobby was a map of the city and it's suburbs. He now focused on that. He found the street he was looking for and traced the route mentally. Locking it into his memory he floated off. It took him five minutes to get there. He walked past the uniformed police crawling all over the house like a swarm of mad ants. The house was cold. Not as cold as Kally's room had been, but there WAS a... wrongness here. He ignored the feeling when he saw the first body. A man. All that was visible was the top of his legs, his groin and one arm still clutching at the arm of his chair, still fighting against whatever had pulled him back INTO the lazy-boy. He wandered upstairs to find two bedrooms. One held a crib and a twin bed. It didn't look like the mother was much into housekeeping if the unmade beds, strewn toys and dirty laundry were any indication. There were only two cops upstairs, cataloguing and taking pictures. There no concentrated feeling of evil here, although a light film of anger and fear was there. It wasn't as if he were swimming through a soup of filth so much as walking through cobwebs of it. He went back downstairs and followed the police activity into the cellar. There was a semi-finished room down there. It was also where the other two bodies were. The boy looked to be fifteen or sixteen, and he was submerged to his chest in the concrete floor. It didn't look like the floor was freshly poured around him either. The bed had been shoved to the side to reveal him. The other body appeared to be a woman. She was laying face down in the floor, reaching for the stairs. Lovely. He could see why Scully called for an archeologist or paleontologist. If these two followed the pattern of the first body then the parts in the concrete had merged with the floor, meaning a jackhammer would break up the bodies as much as the material. Detective Flowers was there. Mulder recognized him immediately and moved to his side, to listen in to his conversations. "Didja get hold of Children's services? These folks were under investigation and had two kids taken out of this place three days ago." Flowers spoke to a uniformed man. "Yeah, first thing. The middle kid, Charles, age seven, is safe and sound in foster care. The youngest, Billy, was just checked on at CMC. He's sleeping and as well as can be." The uniformed cop consulted a clipboard. Mulder frowned. There were four hospitals in the city. It seemed more than coincidence that the youngest child from this house was in the same one as Kally Carlson. Child and Welfare Services meant there were at least suspicions of abuse or neglect here. That would explain the cobwebby feeling. Two crime scenes. Two differing cases of child abuse. One hospital. There was a pattern forming here. XXX COMMUNITY MEDICAL CENTER PEDIATRICS WARD 2 8:36 A.M. "Hello Kally, how are you today?" Nurse Spencer swept into the Pediatrics ward and deposited a pink teddy bear on the child's bed. Kally shrugged. "I'm ok, I guess. Thank you for being nice to me last night." Nichole smiled. "Think nothing of it. If I didn't love kids I wouldn't be a pediatric nurse. I'm off duty in a few minutes. I just wanted to check up on you." Kally looked at the tall, slender woman before her. "Why?" "Because you were pretty scared last night." Nichole pulled out a fresh hospital gown for Kally. "Because you feel sorry for me. I don't have anybody but police come visit me." Kally pointed out with a small voice. The nurse froze and held the gown to her chest, closing her eyes. "Everyone should have someone to check on them once in a while, Kally." "Do you have any kids?" Kally picked up the bear and examined its little face. Nichole placed the gown at the end of the bed. "No. I don't. I can't have children of my own, but my husband and I are candidates for adoption. Maybe someday we'll have a baby to raise." Kally chewed on her bottom lip. "Maybe you can take Billy." She looked at the crib not far from her bed. "He's gonna need a nice mommy, now." Nichole frowned. "What do you know about Billy?" "His mommy hurt him and put him here. His older brother put the burns on his back with a lighter. He called them happy faces, but it hurt Billy and he didn't know why. Now he's gonna need a new mom and dad." Kally looked at the floor, suddenly afraid she'd said too much. Nichole went to the chart by the crib and looked at it. Her frown deepened. "The SBS is listed here, and the burn scars, but no mention is made of an older brother causing the burns. Kally... why did you say that? How did you know about him being taken away from his parents?" Kally flushed and shook her head. "I jus' guessed. Why are your nails green?" Nikki looked at her hands and grinned. "Because I'm a boring person, truth be told. So I like to use out of the ordinary nail polish to spice myself up. You like? I have purple, blue and safety orange at home. Once I even painted each nail a different color, but the Charge Nurse gave me a lecture on professionalism for that idea." "Can I take a shower now?" Kally seemed to jump from one subject to another faster then a ping pong ball. Nichole replaced the chart and nodded. "Go ahead. Do you want me to help you?" "No. I can do it myself." Kally jumped off the bed and retrieved the new hospital gown as she went into the bathroom and closed the door. Nichole sat down to wait. Just to make sure the little girl was ok. XXX 1112 SPRING STREET SCRANTON, PA 8:43 A.M. Scully had arrived quietly and allowed Flowers to give her the guided tour. "Looks like he got the chair, Scully." Mulder whispered in her ear as she viewed what was visible of Gary Dodson. She looked like she wished she could stomp his foot and not look like she was beginning some odd dance. 'The annoyance dance of the modern FBI agent', enacted every summer to chase away malicious spirits. Mulder smirked. Sometimes it was just too amusing to be invisible to most people. Mulder hung back as Flowers gave her a pretty thorough run down. He included the report from Child and Welfare Services. At least he seemed to know his job. For that Mulder was thankful. An hour later Scully left the house, Mulder in tow. "Any suggestions yet, Scully?" He passed through the car door to sit in the passenger seat. Scully buckled in and started the engine. "Is this a test for some sort of advanced weapon?" She was reaching and she knew it. The look Mulder shot her told her he knew it, too. "I don't think so. You know of anything capable of doing that?" He jerked his thumb back at the house as she pulled away. "No, which is why we... I was called in. Maybe the child in foster care knows something." Mulder nodded. "Can we check someplace else out first?" "Where?" Scully looked at him with a confused expression. * The fragrance of lilacs was so thick it stuck to the back of her throat. Scully ducked under a low hanging branch and followed a well-used trail through the bramble. She was surrounded on two sides and above by twisting limbs and green leaves, few blossoms actually bloomed inside the tunnel-like path. There were ROOMS in here. Clearings actually, but canopied by greenery. Deciding to try a cross path, she found it led to another 'room'. This one sported a worn cushion from a piece of patio furniture and a broken plastic tea set missing more pieces than were present. Mulder looked over her shoulder. "It's a natural playground. Neverland." He looked around in wonder. The bramble itself was huge. It was a half a block long and a quarter block wide. Wild and uncontrolled. Yet inside the beautiful, yet untamed, exterior was a child's fantasy. They'd found a naked fashion doll prior to the partial tea set in here, an earlier clearing had two 'sit-upons' commonly made by Girl Scouts as Scully had informed Mulder. The consisted of two place mats sewn together with twine and stuffed with newspaper. Bright ribbons and feathers were tied to overhead branches at random. A wind chime, bearing only two remaining chimes, served this room as a childish chandelier. A beer can held wilted wildflowers in its mouth. "So that's why Kally came here after her father's death?" Scully touched the wind chime with her fingertips. The lonely chimes tinkled softly together. "This was her physical safe place, Scully. I bet she came here a lot. To escape her life. To pretend she was someone else, to just BE." Mulder reached down and pried a dirt-encrusted Raggedy Ann doll from the ground. It was missing half its yarn hair and one foot, the stump of which had been closed by a rubber band mostly gone to dry rot now. "So after what happened she slipped into a catatonic trance and retreated to the place she felt safe and secure." She took the doll from him. The next clearing held beer bottles and cans, stubs of cigarettes. Older kids evidently frequented this place as well. The perfect hide away for sneaking drinks and smokes. Yet, oddly, there was some sort of unspoken truce here. The only invasion of stubs and beer containers into the other clearings had been the can confiscated to serve as a vase. Like the watering hole on the African plains, this was a sanctuary to all. Some primal understanding that no fighting or belittling of those who shared this hideaway was in place. It was at once childishly innocent and heartbreakingly sad that the children had to come here. Certainly most just came for the wonderful playground atmosphere. The feeling of freedom from the adult world. But had Kally been the only one to escape a harsher reality here? "There was a sand pit not far from one of the bases we lived on when I was ten or so. All the kids used to go there. It was a giant sandbox to us. Now I know how unsafe it was, the sides could have come down and killed any of us. Yet, somehow, that never happened. I used to think the sand pit was the best place in the world." Scully spoke wistfully as she replaced the rag doll on the ground with surprising gentleness. Mulder nodded but remained silent. "Didn't you have anyplace you escaped to to play?" She looked at him. "When Sam was around there was a field a couple of blocks from our house. The one we played baseball in. But after... it wasn't much of a refuge." He shrugged. Scully just nodded, understanding. "Why did you want to see this place?" She started back and something brushed against her head. She looked up to see a cheap necklace. It was plastic cut to look like crystal with a unicorn etched into one side so it looked three dimensional from the other. The rusting chain was looped over a branch. "I wanted to see what drew Kally to it. Why here of all places?" "And did you?" Scully tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Mulder touched the necklace and it swung gently. "Yeah. I think I did. This place feels... good. Safe. Like the bramble itself is protective. Maybe enough kids feel that way about it that it lingers. I don't know. But I can understand the draw now." Together they headed back to the car. end part 5... Covenant II: Monsters by Rhondda Lake (part 6/8) [Visualize your dream] [Record it in the present tense] [Put it into a permanent form] [If you persist in your efforts] [You can achieve dream control] [Dream control] [How's that then, better?] [Help me] ----------------------------------------- COMMUNITY MEDICAL CENTER SCRANTON, PA 9:00 A.M. Nichole was humming "That's All I ask of You" under her breath as she signed herself out in the break room. Then she noticed her friend, Adrian, talking to some people in suits. She knew the people. They had answered the call when Billy Dodson was brought in. Child and Welfare Services. "Can I help with anything?" Nichole offered as she reached to retrieve her purse from her locker. "Hey, Nikki. This is Ms. Simms and Ms. Killian from CWS. They were just checking on Kally Carlson. The doctor cleared her, so they'll be placing her in foster care by tonight." "Tonight?" Nichole's eyes widened. "Isn't that a bit soon?" "It isn't good for her to remain in the hospital for too long, Ms..." "Spencer. Um... can I talk to you for a minute?" Nikki steered the Children's Services workers to a waiting room with a hand on their arms. She ignored the questioning look they both gave her choice in nail adornment. XXX The interview with Charles Dodson hadn't gone very well. The child was extremely distraught over the death of his parents. The depth of his grief, while intellectually understood, was still basically confusing to Scully. The boy's medical file listed a series of injuries most likely abuse related, yet he seemed devoted to the ones who had abused him. She knew the scenario, even if she couldn't understand it in her heart. Mulder later reminded her that this was a very common, basic response. That children often loved and craved the attention of their abusers. They often felt they deserved the abuse, and that the pain was just a facet of being loved. Scully had swallowed hard at that. She didn't know if he spoke from a psychologist's viewpoint or not. It chilled her. They had learned a few things from Charles, or Chucky as he preferred. The death of his parents may have been a hard blow, but it seemed to free him to talk a bit more openly. First, while his older brother had been in need of as many 'whuppens' as Chucky and the baby, Billy, he had found an outlet for his own anger and humiliation in tormenting his younger brothers. Not the usual 'pick-on-your-kid-brothers' kind of torment either. He had learned his lessons from his parents. Chucky had scars on his shoulders from being beaten with a wire hanger, and he told them Billy had burn scars on his back from a cigarette lighter. After that Scully and Mulder returned to the Dodson house to see the progress being made with the bodies. They had an archeologist on hand who had been violently ill after seeing what he was going to be helping with. But with the help of chisels and patience they had managed to free the mother. There was no way an autopsy was possible. You can't CUT stone with anything less than a stone saw or a jackhammer. Scully had grabbed a quick dinner and sat reviewing the crime scene pictures and the backgrounds of the victims. Finally she admitted the only commonality was the abused children and the hospital. Now, in the solitude of the car, Mulder toyed with his bottom lip as he often did when thinking. "You're putting together a theory. I can tell. So spill." Mulder shook his head. "It's a theory all right, and not one I want to believe, myself. I'll reserve my judgment until we see the youngest Dodson boy." Scully pulled into the hospital parking lot shortly after seven in the evening. She felt Mulder's hand on her back as she navigated the sterile halls to the Pediatrics ward. A nurse directed her to Billy Dodson's crib. Scully frowned. "Where's Kally Carlson?" The nurse smiled. "Child and Welfare were going to put her in foster care. But Nikki Spencer, one of the night shift nurses, took her home with her. It took a lot of fast talking and endless meetings, but Nikki wants to adopt Kally if the kid doesn't have any family willing to take her in. She and her husband had already had background checks and half the red tape done as they were on a waiting list to become adoptive parents." "Adopt her? That was fast." Mulder frowned. He looked into the crib to see the two year old sleeping fitfully. "Ask her if Kally was ever seen with Billy Dodson." Scully tore her own eyes from the crib. "Was Kally ever seen playing with Billy Dodson?" The nurse nodded. "Yeah. She took an instant liking to him. I saw her peeking in the crib quite a bit. She'd hold his hand or touch his cheek. She's such a sweet, sensitive kid. I guess she saw him as a kindred spirit or something." Scully noticed Mulder move to crouch on the floor between the crib and what had been Kally's bed. "Dead center. The thing that tore through here last night went into another place dead center between Kally and Billy Dodson. It came HERE after killing the Dodsons. It's a projection. A psychic projection." Scully thanked the nurse and picked up Billy's chart when the woman left. "Damn. He was shaken very hard, Mulder. I doubt this poor baby could do anything. The gauze wrapping his head is to keep the incision clean, but look at all the monitors, and the drain. They had to release some brain swelling. He might suffer permanent brain damage." Scully reached in and gently stroked the child's cheek. "Not Billy. Kally." Mulder had moved to her side and gripped the rails of the crib. "What? Mulder, an eight-year-old girl is merging people's cells with foreign materials? Isn't that a bit far fetched, even for you?" "The first death was Kally's father. I'd bet anything he was in the middle of, or about to, rape her again when he was killed. She goes away to a safe place when threatened. Think about it, Scully. The constant abuse; the strain on her mind. If she had latent psychic abilities something may have snapped. We KNOW she has latent psychic abilities because SHE can SEE me. She comes here after the first death and meets Billy. She sees more abuse. Someone else in need of rescuing..." Scully held up her hand. "Mulder, she was terrified of this thing. If it is a thing. The windstorm sent her into a screaming fit." "I don't think she can control it, Scully. She probably doesn't even know it's part of her. It's her rage and hate and fear, way too much for an eight-year-old. It needed someplace to go, so it became this monster. The Dodsons were killed last night, while Kally slept. I think that freed it. When it came back, not knowing it was part of herself, it terrified her. Waking up banished it." Scully shook her head again. "But she would have been awake during her father's death." "Not really. She was in a way, but in another she was lost in a dream. Not really in the here and now. Didn't you ever see 'The Forbidden Planet', Scully? Monsters from the Id. The subconscious mind. We have to find out where this Nurse Spencer lives." Mulder clenched and unclenched his fists, his speech getting more and more rapid as he spoke. "Mulder, even if by some chance you are right, then it should be over. No more abused children here. She wouldn't have another target for her anger." Mulder shook his head and pinned her with his eyes. There was fear there. "No, she has. Scully, I have to talk to her before she goes to sleep. I have to explain something to her, to make her understand even on a subconscious level." "What? Mulder, what's wrong?" Scully put a hand on his arm. "I think she may have subconsciously targeted my mother next." "WHAT?" Mulder was already heading out the door. "Come on." Scully already had her cell phone out and had dialed the proper numbers. She winced and held the phone away from her ear as electronic feedback shrieked over the line. "Your mother's line is screwed up." "It might be the thing...Kally's Jabberwocky." Mulder's jaw twitched and his movements became agitated. In the elevator Scully bit on her lip. "Mulder, go. Check on your mother. You can explain later. But I'm not about to hold you here when you're this worried and might be able to do something about it." He looked at her with such relief on his face. "Thanks, Scully." Then he was gone. XXX It had been a long day. Nikki brushed the dark hair from Kally's forehead and kissed her temple. "Sweet dreams, little one." Kally was asleep on the sofa bed. Nikki looked up at her husband, Simon. He had agreed to her crazy, frantic pleas to take in this child. He was a little upset that Kally shrank from him, but he was kindhearted enough to understand and give her space. Nikki stood and crossed the room into her husband's arms. "She needs healing, Simon. Not the kind doctors can give." "I know, sweetheart. And I'm not upset with her. When she flinched I was hurt, but mostly I was hurt FOR her. If her father weren't already dead..." Nikki smiled and kissed him. "I know. But if he weren't she'd still be in her own private hell. Come on. It's early and I have to go to work in a while, but there's plenty of time to...fool around." She grinned. "And I'm feeling particularly grateful that you are such a wonderful husband." Simon chuckled and steered Nikki back to their bedroom. "You know having a kid around is gonna mean you, my dear, are finally going to have to learn how to cook." XXX 2790 VINE STREET CHILMARK, MA 8:05 P.M. Teena Mulder closed the volume in her hands. Pictures. Moments in time trapped forever. Memories. All she had left now. She'd thought she could protect her only remaining child by keeping silent. She distanced herself from him out of the need to keep him safe. What a pathetic waste. All that time wasted, all the secrets kept, for nothing. Her son had been taken from her as cruelly as her daughter had been. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Life was now a burden to be borne. She had no one. She was alone, but for her house girl, and the occasional short calls from her Fox's partner, Dana. Those calls she kept short on purpose. Because they hurt. Because they reminded her he was gone and the only person who gave a damn was a woman she'd met three or four times. A woman who had lived while her son died. Teena Mulder placed the album back on the book case and took her teacup into the kitchen. She'd leave it in the sink. She was tired. She got tired so quickly recently. As she was about to climb the stair she cocked her head to the side. There was something... a faint scratching. Something scurrying... in the cellar. Mice, no doubt, or squirrels. She'd have to call an exterminator in the morning. ::Scritch. Scritch:: end part 6... Covenant II: Monsters by Rhondda Lake (part 7/8) If you open your mind for me You won't rely on open eyes to see The walls you built within Come tumbling down, and a new world will begin Living twice at once you learn You're safe from the pain in the dream domain ----------------------------------------------------- 2790 VINE STREET CHILMARK, MASS 8:30 P.M. The kitchen. The kitchen? Why the hell had he visualized the kitchen for crying out loud? Why not the living room or her bedroom? Mulder looked around. The house was dark. He looked at the wall clock in the kitchen as he cocked his head to the side and listened. It was only eight thirty and the place was quiet as a tomb. He shivered at that last thought. He WAS dead, after all. He almost called out to his mother, then realized she wouldn't hear him anyway. Then he knew. He could FEEL it. His hunch had been right. God, he hated being right most of the time. He didn't know WHERE it was, but it was in the house. The Jabberwocky. The Monster from the Id. Kally's subconscious demon. He blinked into the master bedroom. It was dark, but he could see her curled up on the bed, a thin cotton sheet over her. Lost in her own sleep, it was she who looked like a child, despite the steely gray of her hair. The shadows hid the lines on her face. Mulder stepped up to the bed and reached out to touch her cheek, only to have his hand pass through her. He drew his hand back as a clenched fist. It was unfair. She couldn't see him, so he couldn't touch her. He couldn't reassure her. His own mother. She stirred in her sleep and a soft smile touched her face. "Fox." Funny how one word can shatter the human heart. His name. On her lips. He closed his eyes against the pain. Perhaps on some deep level she knew that he was there after all. He heard it then. ::Scritch. Scritch:: The wall. It was in the wall. His eyes riveted on the spot covered with wallpaper. He knew, somehow he knew it was there. He was all that stood between it and his mother and he didn't even have a way to warn her. "One, two. One, two. And through and through...," he muttered into the darkness. A horrific vision of razor teeth and slavering jaws, hooked talons and soul devouring eyes ripped through the fabric of the wall in a frenzy of fury. XXX Nichole threw a nightgown on and was still pulling on a robe as she stomped out into the kitchen. Someone had the nerve to be pounding on her door at eight thirty at night, uninvited. After all, there was now a child here in need of sleep. She yanked the door open, ready to give the interloper a piece of her mind when a badge was shoved up under her nose. "Mrs. Nichole Spencer? I'm Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI. I need to talk to Kally Carlson right away, and I understand you have taken her in." Nikki moved back a step to get a better look. She recognized the small woman at her door from the hospital. "Yes, I have. But Kally's sleeping right now. Can't this wait till morning?" Nikki heard Simon come into the kitchen and caught sight of him cinching his own robe. "I'm afraid not. I think it's very important we wake her up." Nikki gestured to a door opening to a darkened living room. She flipped on the table lamp to reveal a sofa bed. An empty sofa bed. "Kally?" Nikki rushed to the cellar steps and started down them. "Kally, are you down there, honey?" Simon Spencer looked distraught. "I'll get dressed. Do you think she ran away?" Scully shook her head. Mulder's theory aside, they now had a missing child. A very troubled missing child. "Does she sleepwalk? When her neighbors found her...I think I know where she might be." Scully turned back to the door. "Not without us. Let us get some shoes on, ma'am. She's our responsibility now. She's been let down way too much already." Nikki had returned from the cellar to hear this and nodded. "Oh God, please let her be all right." She prayed aloud. XXX It hit him like a freight train. Not a very original analogy but an apt one. It had mass to him, and it slammed him against the wall, through the wall, through the adjoining room, through another wall and right out into the back yard. If he hadn't been dead already that would most likely have killed him. But being incorporeal both he, and it, left no sign of their passing. He held on for dear...life? It reared back its hideous head and roared. He knew that sound from somewhere. Then he remembered, and it brought to mind exactly what this thing was. It roared exactly like the T-Rex in Jurassic Park. It was an amalgamation of childhood fears and terrors made real. His grip was on smooth, solid neck-ridges; they cut into his palms from some sort of spikey protrusion on its tough exoskeleton. He didn't bleed, but the way they cut was a icy pain through him. The thing was bipedal and about two feet taller than him. Its head was lumpish, malformed, and it had eight sets of flat, black eyes. That feature no doubt stolen from a spider even as its double, slobbering mouth was torn right from the set of 'Aliens'. It's gait was balanced by a reptilian tail. "No. She was scared. She had lost too much. She didn't want to acknowledge what was going on." He was practically shouting as the thing tried to shake him loose. It twisted its body. Unable to shed Mulder it simply turned back to the house. Mulder felt its intent, its vicious need to shred and kill, to unleash its rage. He twisted to get a better grip, locking his arms around the short, thick neck. Placing it in a headlock and pulling back with all he had. "She wasn't the one who hurt me. She didn't. When she couldn't just pass it off as just overly enthusiastic punishment, she took me away. She SAVED me, damnit." He felt it give way and stumble back a bit. Maybe he was getting through. Getting through to the scared little girl who was behind this. "She divorced him and took me away. She wasn't perfect, but no one is. No one. She did the best she could under the circumstances. And I'm not going to let you, or anyone, hurt her. She's suffered enough." Then it was writhing. He clung to it, reminded of those mechanical bucking broncos. It was trying to shake him off. Why wasn't it attacking him? That little trip through the architecture of the house COULD have been considered an attack, but it had done very little damage in actuality. The anger and the rage were there, but it was being overwhelmed by fear. The thing was afraid. Afraid of him? Afraid of being held down, hurt, abused.... And it didn't want to hurt him, because it had designated itself his champion. "I don't need you. I don't need your protection. The one who hurt me can't hurt me any more. The one who hurt Kally can't hurt her anymore, either. Let it go. Let her go." It howled again, but this time it sounded...lost. A lost child. Lost innocence. Then it broke loose. The monster turned to look at him with a snarl. He felt it. Anger, rage, hate, fear, vengeance...self loathing. The self loathing rose up around the rest and it started to step into the between place. "No!" Afraid he knew its plan, he managed to throw himself at it and just grab onto its tail. Then he was pulled after it, into the blinking of transition. XXX Scully got out of the car and was briefly illuminated by the lights of the car behind her. They cut off as Nikki and Simon Spencer emerged, in nightclothes, robes and sneakers. "What is this place?" Simon played his flashlight over the woven branches. Scully flicked on hers as well, searching for, and finding, the entrance. She breathed in the heady smell. "Neverland." She answered. "It's less than a mile from your house. She could have made it here." Scully stepped into the path, weaving her way through the lilac bramble. The wind was picking up, and clouds blocked the stars and moon. The night was pitch dark. If Kally had found her way here, in some sleepwalking trance, how had she kept from falling on her face? "Why here?" Nikki was right behind Scully. "It's her safe place. She escaped here." Scully held up her hand as she heard a soft whimper to her right. They picked their way over roots and fallen branches to find the entrance to the biggest clearing, in the heart of the bramble. Kally Carlson lay on the ground, curled up into a ball. "Kally!" Nikki stumbled to her while Simon held the flashlight up to illuminate the area. Scully bent close to the girl and checked her thready pulse before checking her eyes. Kally was shaking and crying, but she wasn't completely -- how had Mulder put it? In the here and now. "Kally, I need you to wake up. Come on, Kally. You're safe here. Nothing can hurt you. It's ok to come back." Scully removed her jacket and placed it around the child's frail shoulders. "It's coming." The words were barely a whisper. "What? What's coming?" Scully noted her pupils were reacting properly, at least. "I'm the last. It's hungry, and I'm the last. The last one it wants." Kally was still shaking. "I think we'd better take her back to the hospital." Scully stood and helped Nikki up. The wind tore through the bramble with no warning. The woven, twig-like walls offered no protection as it roared through. Kally screamed as the earth erupted around them, knocking Simon down. His flashlight dropped, illuminating the ground. "NO! Don't let it take me!" Kally twisted away from Nikki and started to run when the ground before her erupted in a spray of dirt. Nikki was screaming as well, now. There was a hint of something...twisted hands, long talons, reaching for the little girl. Then Scully saw what Nikki couldn't. Mulder rushed past the reaching thing and knocked the child to the ground, covering her tiny frame with his own. "It's not you. You didn't do anything wrong. You are not a bad person. You didn't deserve what happened to you. No matter what he said. He was the monster, Kally, not you. You are just a little girl. You are not to blame." Scully could hear his chanted litany as the thing from a nightmare reared again, coming straight at Mulder and the child. She brought her gun out and aimed just as the roots and branches seemed to come alive around her. They snaked forward with the sound of whipping trees in a harsh storm. They coiled and looped around Kally and Mulder, as he crouched over her. They kept winding and building a impenetrable cage as Nikki continued to scream. end part 7... Covenant II: Monsters by Rhondda Lake (part 8/8) A soul set free to fly A round trip journey in your head Master of illusion, can you realize Your dream's alive, you can be the guide but... I-- will be watching over you I-- am gonna help to see it through I-- will protect you in the night I-- am smiling next to you.... --------------------------------------------- Scully squeezed off two shots to no effect. The thing paid no attention to her, or to Nikki and Simon Spencer. It was trying to pry open the network of roots and branches encasing Kally and Mulder. Scully brought her gun to a safety position as she realized this. Something was wrong here. If this was the thing killing people... then why didn't it just reach right through the plant matter? If it could merge human cells into wood and concrete, why not into a few roots and leaves? It was clawing at it, scraping at it, trying to pry the cocoon open. But it was unable to penetrate the protective mass. Yes, that's what it was, some sort of protection. Before Scully realized the other woman had moved, Nichole Spencer had taken up her husband's flashlight and was CHARGING the creature. Screaming some primal cry. She brought the light down against the back of it's head. It didn't even seem to notice her. Scully rushed in to save the woman from herself... * Mulder could feel the child shaking beneath him. He hoped to God she wasn't claustrophobic. He didn't know exactly what was going on here. What he did know was the sudden attack of foliage was not an attack at all. The womb of roots and vines, branches and flowers currently encasing them was... warm, welcoming, safe. He stroked Kally's hair in the confining space and continued to speak to her. "What happened to you was a bad thing. But it wasn't your fault. You did nothing to deserve it, and you couldn't have done anything to stop it. You are a very brave, strong, loving girl. You survived it. It was unfair. Completely unfair. But it wasn't your fault. Kally, you have to let it go. The monster out there is all the bad things you were made to feel. That it was made isn't your fault, but right now you have to decide to stop it. You are so brave and strong, I know you can do it. Allow yourself to be forgiven. Accept that you were a victim. It's not your fault, Kally. None of it was ever your fault." He heard a sniffle then a small gasp. "That's me? I did that? I made this?" Mulder would have laughed at the amazement in her voice, overriding the fear, if the danger to the people out there hadn't been so real. "Yes, Kally. But that doesn't make you bad either. It makes you hurt. Hurt and alone and in need of something to save you. So you saved yourself. That isn't bad, Kally. That's self preservation. Everyone wants to stay alive." He reached out and touched the woven wall surrounding them. Was that what this was? Her will to live battling her wish to die? "But you don't need the monster anymore, Kally. You saved yourself. You saved Billy Dodson. Now you have to let the people who want to help you in. There are people who want to love you. You have to let them." Could she do it? How long did it take HIM to learn that lesson? Hell, he'd had to die first. He hoped she wouldn't. * Scully and Simon had each grabbed one of Nichole's arms and hauled her back, away from the nightmare. "NO! YOU CAN'T HAVE HER!" Nikki twisted in their grip, seemingly set on suicide. Then, as abruptly as it started, the wind stopped. The thing, the monster, was gone. Nothing there but a pile of dirt and leaves. But the strangeness had not yet ended. The large knotwork mass began to unwind. The lilac bramble settled back into its original shape. The cage opened to reveal Kally Carlson curled up in the fetal position. Released from a womb of vegetation. Born again. Scully saw Mulder unwrap himself from the little girl and sit up. He looked horrible. His glow, his aura, was faded again. Whatever battles he'd fought tonight had taken a lot out of him. Nikki, tearing herself away from Simon and Scully, rushed to the shaken child. As soon as Nikki's arms enfolded Kally there was a burst of light. A flash, so fast it might not have been there at all. Nikki had her eyes closed as she rocked Kally, crooning some soft, wordless song. When she opened her eyes she jumped back and stared right at Fox Mulder. "Ohmygod! Who.... what are you?" Mulder looked shocked for a moment, but managed to gather his scattered wits. "I'm a friend. It's a long story. But I think she'll be all right now." He reached out to stroke Kally's hair. "Nikki?" Simon Spencer approached slowly then knelt beside his wife. "Who are you talking to?" Mulder grinned. "I have a feeling all of us are gonna need to have a LONG talk." XXX SCRANTON MOTOR INN 8:34 A.M. Dana Scully sat hunched over her laptop. //It remains to be proven if the inexplicable rash of deaths in Scranton, Pennsylvania has stopped. Other than circumstantial connections, no evidence exists to link Kally Carlson to the death. How the victims merged with the foreign materials remains unexplained. There is no evidence to support the existance of the creature witnessed by the Spencers and myself. Only our own testimony. Adoption proceedings are to continue for Kally Carlson. The Spencers are more committed than ever to giving her a loving, normal home. Of one thing I am certain. Humanity creates its own monsters, through our own passivity. That which we find vile, corrupt and evil will continue to invade our homes, our lives and our world as long as we willingly turn a blind eye to the evils around us. As long as we pretend it does not affect us, we allow it to thrive. Monsters are real, they are human predators. We are the Frankensteins who bring these creatures to life. They propagate themselves through their own acts of violence, and nurture themselves on pain and suffering.// "Poetic, Scully." Mulder's voice sounded close to her ear. "It's rude to read over someone's shoulder." She muttered as she hit save. "Yeah, and I'm Mr. Manners. I checked out the lilac bramble. It's exactly like it was before last night." Scully looked at him. "So you have no idea what happened. There are as many unanswered questions here as you propose there are answers. Did Kally somehow manipulate the bramble to protect herself?" "I have no proof, but if you want my opinion... No. I think the lilac bramble protected Kally of its own free will." Scully arched a brow. "Mulder, it's an overgrown bush. Not a person." "Yes, but it's also the repository of all the good feelings, all the joy and abandon of every child who ever played there. It was the safe haven of more than just Kally. I think on an elemental level, that stored trust and love reached out when it was most needed. But... that's just my opinion." Scully tapped a pen against the hotel stationary. "And what's your theory on Nikki Spencer's sudden ability to see ghosts?" "That, I think, WAS Kally. Let's face it, Scully, that kid has one hell of a psychic punch, and she hasn't reached puberty yet. With luck, as she's treated to a normal life, her need for that wellspring of psychic energy will die down and she'll never have to use it again. But if that isn't the case, she's going to need someone who can sense what's going on. An equal to counteract it. A... mother figure to guide her. She subconsciously gave that job to Nurse Spencer. She... opened Mrs. Spencer's psychic door, as it were, and allowed her to tap into her own abilities." Mulder sat on the bed, looking at her. "So you think Nichole Spencer can now... just know things? Merge people's genetic material with something else? What?" "I don't know what she can do now. But I do know she's more perceptive. She probably has some form of psychometry, which is how I think Kally homed in on her victims, by the way. One touch and she knew where they lived. Including my mother. I held her hand the other night. She didn't even realize what she was doing." "Even if all this is true...then there is no guarantee that she won't go off again. That she won't be able to control her...monster. That anyone who yells at her, or tries to control another child throwing a tantrum, won't set her off. That isn't very comforting." Scully closed her laptop and put it in it's case. "Afraid of being relegated to the cornfield, Scully? I think that's why she gave Nikki Spencer this thing. To keep that from happening. A more mature, grounded counter to her abilities. It isn't a perfect solution, but I don't think it would serve any purpose to have Kally institutionalized for her life. She's been through enough." Mulder got off the bed and knelt beside Scully, running his hand along her leg. Her expression was dead serious as she met his gaze. "I just hope you're right, Mulder." He nodded. He did too. ------------------------------------------------------- end Covenant II: Monsters. Final Author's Note: One of my usual editors made a passing comment on how a happier ending would have been better. Perhaps showing Kally smiling in a playground or something. This comment brought to light something I felt must be said. (I am not in any way maligning this editor, who is a wonderful beta reader and caring person. After all, everyone likes happy endings, right?) Since I decided to tackle the issue of child abuse, specifically child sexual abuse, I felt I HAD to be open and honest. There are rarely instant happy endings. Any person who survived this faces YEARS, most often a LIFETIME of therapy and/or counseling. In Kally's case she would most likely feel intimidated by 80% of the male population for her entire life. This story dealt with the immediate danger of her 'abilities'. But for her, and any victim like her, this is only the barest beginning of recovery. There is a very long, HARD road ahead of her and the Spencers. In choosing to take on a child with this amount of psychological damage, they are volunteering to suffer with her. That takes the rarest and most special kind of person on this planet. I salute each and every survivor, and the families and friends who support and weather the storms with them. By the way, Nikki Spencer is a real person. The mother of two adopted children and foster mother to an abused toddler. There are angels out there, as well as devils. And on a final note. If anyone sees abuse of any kind going on around them, don't look away. Don't close your eyes and lie to yourself that it isn't your business. It is. Today's victims, sadly, often become tomorrow's abusers. You never know if it will be someone you know and love who become TOMORROW'S victims. ::The Purple Rhino dismounts her soapbox and tucks it away.:: Feedback welcome. More then welcome. I need it. I crave it. My palms were sweating as I posted this puppy. I have two more stories following this twist in my head. Actual cases. Is there an interest? Rhoni The Purple Rhino