TITLE:  The White Room III: Of Maidens And Madness
AUTHOR: Annette Gisby
EMAIL: annette.gisby@which.net and penguin2@cableinet.co.uk
CATEGORY: MSR, M/S married, X, A
KEYWORDS: Angst
SUMMARY: A case re-opens old wounds. Continues on from
the White Room II: Memories, but can stand alone as well.
ARCHIVE: Yes please, especially at gossamer and Spooky and ephemeral


OF MAIDENS AND MADNESS

The girl had never felt so alone. There were other people on
the beach, but either they didn't see her or chose to ignore
her. She couldn't really blame them. She'd been on the streets
for months now, she didn't know exactly how long, and she stank.
Really, really stank. What she wouldn't give to have a nice long
shower or bath and she had to squeeze the tears back as she
thought of home. A home where she was no longer welcome.

She placed her hands on her swollen abdomen, feeling the tears
well up again. Her parents hadn't believed her, she hadn't really
expected them to, but it hurt all the same that they thought she
was a liar. She had never lied to them. Her father was the worst,
calling her all the vile names he could think of.

Whore.

Slut.

Jezebel.

And the worst one of all.

Devil's Spawn.

She'd run away that night, the night she told them of her
predicament. They hadn't tried to find her. She stopped, her
bare feet sinking into the sand. Was that a contraction just
then? It passed quickly and she continued on her journey. She
felt the stares of everyone on the beach. What must they think
of her with her filthy clothes and hair in such a bedraggled
state? What would they think if they knew who her parents were?

She stopped at the foot of some sand dunes, panting for breath.
She needed to get to a hospital, soon. She wouldn't be able to
birth this baby without help. The girl was terrified of what was
going to happen. She was too young for this, she was only thirteen,
but she had made a promise and her promises were always kept.

The climb up the sand dunes was a struggle, but at last she reached
the crest and her destination. The shop stayed open late in Summer,
selling ice-creams and cold drinks to the hot tourists. Not that it
was ever very hot in this part of Ireland, but the shop seemed to do
a brisk trade anyway.

The sun was already sinking below the horizon and she hurried as
much as she could, she had to get there before the shop shut.
Out there on the sand, it had been a contraction, and she was
getting another one. She gritted her teeth and tried to breathe
through it.

She reached the door just as the owner was putting up the
'closed' sign.

"Aunt Sarah!" she shouted through the glass.

The door opened a fraction.

"My God! Catriona, is that you?"

The girl nodded and grimaced as she felt another spasm rip through
her.

Sarah O'Keefe opened the door fully to let her come in, locking the
door quickly behind her. She led the trembling girl out the back into
her living quarters. A sparsely furnished room with noting but a
table and sofa. She sat Catriona on the sofa.

"The baby! It's coming!" gasped Catriona, doubling over in pain.

"Wait there, I'll call the ambulance," said Sarah.

Catriona sank back onto the cushions. She wasn't going anywhere.
And neither was the baby unless they could get her to a hospital.
Fast. She looked up as her aunt returned.

"It'll be about ten minutes, Catriona. You just hang on. You poor
child. Is this why you ran away? Because you couldn't tell your
parents?"

"I told them. They wouldn't believe it."

"That you were pregnant?"

"Oh, they believed that all right. They wouldn't believe who the
father was."

"Oh? And who is the father, Catriona?"

"God."

*****

"Morning, Scully," said Mulder as soon as she entered the office.
He was engrossed in some slides that he had yet to project onto
the screen. He was wearing his glasses and her heart did a flip-flop.
God, he looked cute. She licked her lips and smiled seductively at
him. His eyes widened and he dropped the slide he was holding.

"Scully! How may times have I told you about that?"

"About what, Mulder?" she asked innocently

"You. Lips. Work."

"I thought you liked my lips, Mulder."

He groaned and turned away from her. Scully smiled at his discomfort.
She loved to tease him, especially now. She had every right to tease
him now. Her hand reached underneath her jacket and fingered the
gold chain and its pendant. A plain gold ring. A ring which only three
months previously Mulder had put on her finger. She was married to
Mulder. It still amazed her to think about it. It also amazed her
the amount of self-control Mulder had. There were ground rules
that she felt she wanted to break. No sex at work, for example.
She'd had her eye on their desk for a long time, even before
they got together.

The ring's mate was on an identical chain around Mulder's neck, but
hidden beneath his shirt. Neither of them were foolish enough to
wear the rings to work. There were people who would use the
knowledge they were married to destroy them. And they had a lot
more truths to find yet.

She dropped the ring and paid more attention to the slides
that Mulder had just projected.

"Three teenage girls, aged between thirteen and fifteen. They all
died after giving birth by caesarean section at Dublin's Memorial
hospital, so did the babies, a few hours after birth."

"Hospital negligence? Or maybe the girls' age? They were very young.
It's a traumatic operation, at any age. What makes you think it's an
X-file?"

"Claims the girls made when they found out they were pregnant. They
told their parents that they were still virgins and that they were
carrying God's child."

Scully stared at him, open mouthed, but no sound emerged for quite
some time.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"Yep. And get this, the reason given for the caesarean, they all had
intact hymens, and couldn't give birth naturally."

"Virgo intacta? So they were virgins?"

"It certainly seems that way. And they didn't die because of the
operation. They were all murdered. Both the mothers' and childrens'
hearts were removed. By hand. The word "Devils" carved into their
chest."

"And no-one saw anything?"

"Not a thing. There was another girl, Catriona Malone. The same
thing, but she survived. She was the only one who didn't make
it to the hospital on time, and had to have a home birth. Is it
scientifically possible, Scully for a virgin to get pregnant?"

"I don't know of any animals who reproduce asexually, but there
are quite a few plants who reproduce this way. But in the case
of asexual reproduction, the resulting offspring would be a clone
of the mother, only having her genes."

"I don't think that was the case here."

"Why?"

"All the children were boys."

"So, when do we leave?"

"How soon can you pack?"

*****

The plane was crowded and they didn't get a seat together. Mulder
was a few rows behind her, being entertained by a lively five year
old. Scully's eyes misted over and she tried to tell herself that
it was nothing, that she was over it. But she was lying to herself.
She would never be over it. *They* took her fertility away from
her and that was something that she could never forgive *them* for.

She reached into her pocket and touched what resided there. It was
all she had left of Emily. A crumpled photo and some bad memories.
Scully craned her neck to see Mulder engrossed in conversation with
one of the flight attendants. A very pretty flight attendant. Was it
jealousy, that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach?

A few minutes later, the attendant came over and whispered something
to the man seated next to her. He looked at Scully and smiled.

"You should have said," he told her, before getting up and swapping
seats with Mulder.

"Mulder? What is going on?"

"I told the stewardess that we were newlyweds and I would like to
sit next to my wife."

"You didn't!"

"I did. And anyway, it's the truth. I do want to sit next to my wife."

Scully smiled at him as he reached for her hand. He knew how much
she hated flying and it was only tolerable when she was sitting with
him. She didn't feel as vulnerable, or as ill when Mulder was there
to hold her hand during the flight.

"You look exhausted, Scully. You should get some sleep."

"I can never sleep on a plane, Mulder, you know that."

"Lean on my shoulder, I can guarantee that you will fall asleep."

He held his arm out in invitation and Scully snuggled up to him, doing
as he suggested. She felt completely relaxed and protected. Something
she hadn't felt for a long time. It was all down to Mulder. She
couldn't believe she was lucky enough to be married to him.

Something woke her, she had fallen asleep after all. Mulder was
stroking her cheek with his fingers.

"Wakey, wakey, we're here," he said. Scully felt tears form at the
corners of her eyes at the look he gave her. He was staring at her
with such awe, such wonder, as if he couldn't believe his luck either.

"Scully? You okay?" he asked worried.

"I'm fine, Mulder. Really." She gave him the biggest smile she could
manage while they waited for everyone else to get off. Once the
crowd had thinned out, Mulder reached up to the overhead locker to
get their carry-on luggage.

As they left the aircraft, the stewardess gave them a knowing smile.
Scully felt herself blush, even though she knew that they were here
on a case.

They waited by the luggage carousel in vain. The airline had
apparently lost their luggage somewhere over the Atlantic. Either
that or it hadn't been on the plane at all. Mulder, of course, was
convinced that the Bermuda triangle featured in the disappearance
somehow.

"Well, at least we have a change of clothes in our hand luggage. Do
they have any idea when it might turn up?" asked Scully.

"They took the name of our hotel and they'll let us know. They think
it'll probably be on the next flight. There's been a mix-up in
Washington, apparently. We weren't the only ones to be left stranded
without our cases."

Mulder looked livid and Scully hoped he had calmed down by the time
they interviewed the girl. The look on his face would probably scare
the poor girl half to death. They hired a car and made it to their
hotel without incident, although it did feel weird to be sitting in
what would have been the driver's side back home. Scully kept reaching
out for a steering wheel which wasn't there.

After some quick showers and a bite to eat, they made their way to
the small village about twenty miles outside Dublin.

"What's the address again?" asked Scully as she glanced at the map.

"Number one Shore Road. Is it on the map?"

"No, but it must be somewhere near the sea with a name like that.
Take the next right, that leads to the beach."

"Okay," said Mulder and turned the wheel. The road was little more
than a sandy lane, with room for only one car at a time. Scully
prayed they wouldn't meet another vehicle coming towards them.
Branches of over-hanging trees scraped along the car's sides with
a metallic screech. Scully shuddered at the noise.

"There goes our deposit," said Mulder with a shrug.

As Mulder turned a corner, Scully saw the building out of the corner
of her eye. A hand-painted sign hung from the porch. It had seen
better days, as had the rest of the ramshackle edifice.

'O'Keefe's Ices'.

"That's it, isn't it? It was Sarah O'Keefe who wrote to you?"

"Yes. So this must be Shore Road. I didn't see any signs, did you?"

"No," Scully shook her head.

Sarah O'Keefe was waiting for them by the entrance to the shop, her
arms folded against her chest and a glare in her eye that would have
done Scully proud.

"The beach is that way," Sarah pointed to her left. "This is private
property."

Scully arched an eyebrow. Private property? How did the woman expect
to get any customers with an attitude like that?

"Sarah O'Keefe?" asked Mulder, reaching into his pocket for his ID.

"Who wants to know?"

"I'm Agent Mulder, this is my partner Agent Scully. We're with the
FBI. You contacted us about Catriona Malone?"

"So you're finally here are you?" she snapped at them. "Well. You can
just get back on that plane and go back where you came from."

"I don't understand," said Mulder.

"What's to understand? You're too late."

*****


"Too late?" echoed Scully.

"Yes. Catriona and the baby have disappeared. They'll probably turn
up murdered now, just like the rest."

"You know about the others?" asked Mulder.

"Ireland is a small country, Mr. Mulder. Everyone knows about the
others. I suppose you'd better come in, since you did come all this
way to talk to Catriona."

Sarah backed away from the door so Mulder and Scully could follow
her in. They passed through the shop into the back room. It was clean
and tidy, but the few items in it were threadbare and scraped. What
available surfaces there were, were covered in photographs of the one
man.

"My husband, God rest his soul," said Sarah when she saw Scully glance
at them. "Would you like some tea?"

"Thank you, that would be lovely," replied Scully. She couldn't quite
fathom the woman's change of heart. Sarah had gone from rude to the
perfect hostess, what had wrought about the change?

They were soon to discover that tea in Ireland didn't mean just tea.
A trolley was brought out from behind a curtain bearing china cups,
but alongside them there were plates of food. Sandwiches, cake,
biscuits. Enough to feed a small army in fact. Sarah poured while
Mulder exchanged a bemused glance with Scully.

"Thank you, but you needn't have gone to so much trouble," said
Scully.

"It's no trouble. I don't get many visitors now that John's passed
away. We weren't blessed with children, Catriona was like my own
daughter. I'll never forgive my brother for what he did to that
poor child."

"Your brother?" asked Mulder.

"Yes, Catriona's father. Brian Malone. He's a doctor at the hospital.
Can't think why they keep him on, he hasn't got a compassionate bone
in his body. He's an obstetrician, but he refuses to deal with
unmarried mothers. Says it goes against his religious principles."

"So Catriona's father wouldn't have approved of her pregnancy?" asked
Scully, stirring her tea before taking a sip.

"No, he wouldn't. That poor wee girl turned up on my doorstep, ready
to have the baby there and then. She'd been on the streets, I'm sure
her father had something to do with that. He wouldn't have allowed
such a sinner in his house. His words, not mine. I don't know why
she didn't come to me sooner, I would have taken her in. Maybe she
was scared that her father would come looking for her. This would
be the first place he'd look.

"He's telephoned a couple of times to check if I'd seen her. I hadn't,
not then. When she was actually here, he didn't check at all. It was
as if he knew she was here and didn't need to check."

"Did you believe her story?"

"About being a virgin, you mean? Well, put it this way, Agent Mulder.
I've known Catriona since she was a baby and I've never known her
to lie. Her father is so strict, I don't know how she could have
had a boyfriend. She goes to an all girl convent school. All the
teachers are nuns. The only male staff are the caretaker and the cook.
Both are well into their sixties."

"Could she have been meeting someone in secret?" asked Scully.

"I don't know. It would have been difficult though. She was only
allowed out to go to school. Either her mother or father drove her
to school and back each day. She was never out of their sight."

"Was she allowed to visit you?" asked Mulder.

"No. That was one of my main arguments with Brian. He didn't think
I would be a good influence on her. Really what he meant, was that
he didn't want her anywhere near John. He didn't trust men, any men
around his daughter."

"Mrs. O'Keefe, I'm sorry, but I have to ask this. Was there any
reason to suspect that your brother might have been involved in
Catriona's pregnancy?"

"From abuse, you mean? I have to be honest, Miss Scully. That was
the first thing that crossed my mind. Brian is a cruel man, he was
a cruel child too. I still have the scars. But from what Catriona
told me, I don't think he's got anything to do with it. And anyway,
the doctor who came to deliver her, he said she was a virgin. He
had to break the waters artificially with some needle thing."

"An amniohook?" said Scully.

"Oh? It's that what it's called? Are you a doctor?"

"Yes, but I'm not practising. Do you know the name of the doctor who
delivered Catriona's baby?"

"It was Dr. Collins. He lives up at the Manse, you may have seen
it on your way in? The big house with all the ivy?"

"We did catch a glimpse of it, Mrs. O'Keefe. And Dr. Collins lives
there?" asked Mulder.

"Yes, him and that witch of a wife of his."

Scully spluttered, almost spraying Mulder in tea. Obviously there
was no love lost between Mrs. Collins and Sarah O'Keefe. She did
wonder what sort of secrets this seemingly pleasant town was trying
to hide.

They took their leave of Sarah and drove up to the Manse.

"What do you think happened between them?" asked Mulder.

"Sarah and Mrs. Collins? I've no idea, do you think it's relevant?"

"Maybe. I'm not convinced that Sarah was telling us the whole story.
I get the feeling she was holding something back."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. As I said, it's just a feeling."

Scully nodded as Mulder turned the car into the driveway of the
Manse. The house was enormous, four floors of red brick almost
completely covered in ivy. Latticed windows which looked as though
they hadn't been cleaned since the house was built, which was
probably about a hundred years ago.

Scully undid her seatbelt and got out of the car, but Mulder stayed
where he was.

"Mulder?"

"You go and see Dr. Collins, I think I'd like a word with Brian
Malone. His name seems to be cropping up an awful lot."

"Okay, I'll get a cab and meet you back at the hotel. Where will
you be? At the hospital?"

"Yes, since Sarah neglected to mention where her brother actually
lives. Hopefully I'll be able to wangle it out of the hospital
staff."

Scully waved him off and walked towards the door of the Manse. There
was a large old-fashioned door knocker in the shape of a lion's head.
She had to rap twice before the door was answered.

A woman opened the door, glancing at Scully as though she was
something nasty a cat had dragged into her perfect house. She was
wearing a pale linen skirt and a tweed jacket, her grey hair scraped
back from her face in a severe knot.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

"Is Dr. Collins in?" asked Scully, reaching in her pocket for her ID.

"The FBI? What is your interest in my husband?" demanded the woman.

"We're investigating the disappearance of Catriona Malone."

"That slut!"

Scully quirked an eyebrow. "Slut?"

"Well, she must be, mustn't she? How else do you explain the fact
that she got pregnant at thirteen?"

Well, Mulder certainly had a few theories on that, but Scully didn't
think that Mrs. Collins would be particularly interested in any of
them.

"You'd better come in, I suppose," said Mrs. Collins, opening the
door a fraction wider so that Scully could follow her into the hall.
The hall was panelled in wood painted white. Their heels clicked
along the black and white tile floor, which resembled a chess board.
Plants in various stages of decay stood on the few tables which
adorned the hall, its only furniture.

Mrs. Collins stopped at a heavy oak door and knocked forcefully.

"Robert, there's someone to see you. FBI."

The door opened and Dr. Collins peeked out, his lined face showing
a hint of surprise.

"The FBI? Do come in. Clare, can you arrange some tea?"

"That's quite all right," said Scully. Another Irish "tea" would
be too much. She hadn't quite recovered from all she'd eaten at
Sarah O'Keefe's. She followed Dr. Collins into the room while Mrs.
Collins gave her a filthy look.

The study was lined with bookshelves, groaning under the weight
of so many worthy tomes. Books overflowed onto the floor and even
the grate of the fireplace had a new use as a book depository.
There wasn't a spare chair in the place, so Scully elected to stand
while she explained why she was there.

"Yes, I delivered Catriona's baby. And from what I could tell, she
was a virgin."

"Have you any idea how she might have got pregnant, then?"

She saw Dr. Collins look at her cross.

"Besides a miracle," Scully smiled at him. She was comfortable
with Dr. Collins, maybe it was being with another of her profession,
but more likely it was because he reminded her of a doting grandfather.

"I'm sorry, Agent Scully. I just don't know."

"Could Catriona's father be involved? Her aunt seemed to think
he might be."

"Her aunt?"

"Sarah O'Keefe," explained Scully.

"My dear Agent Scully. Sarah isn't Catriona's aunt. Sarah is her
mother."

*****



Scully stared at him. Sarah O'Keefe was Catriona's mother? Not her
aunt? So why on earth didn't Sarah tell them that? Why was it such
a big secret?

"I don't understand," said Scully, just as Mrs. Collins knocked the
study door. Dr. Collins sighed and went to open it.

"What is it now, Clare?"

"What were you wanting for dinner? I have to do the shopping."

"Anything. I'm rather busy right now."

Clare Collins walked away, her heels clipping on the floor. Scully
had the impression that Clare wasn't so worried about shopping for
dinner but more about what she and Dr. Collins were discussing.

"Where was I? Oh, yes. About Sarah and Catriona."

"Are you sure that Catriona is Sarah's daughter?"

"Oh, yes. I delivered Catriona. Sarah is definitely her mother. It
was very upsetting for Sarah. She and John had always wanted children,
you see, but John had a low sperm count. It was a cruel irony that
the only child Sarah ever had was the result of a rape."

Scully felt herself pale and looked around for somewhere to sit.
Mulder should be here. She shouldn't have to deal with this on her own.
Dr. Collins noticed her distress and swept some books off an armchair,
they flew open with a whisper of paper.

"Agent Scully? Can I get you anything? A glass of water?"

"No. Thank you. I'll be fine. It's just, it's just ... the same
thing happened to me." She couldn't explain any further than that.
She didn't want to.

It was hard enough admitting it to herself, never mind strangers.
She thought she was over it. But maybe she'd never be over it. There
would always be something to remind her of what had happened,
especially in their line of work.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" asked Dr. Collins.

"Yes. I'll be fine. So what happened with Sarah and the baby?"

"As I said, I delivered the baby. Sarah wanted to keep it, but her
husband, John, refused to have anything to do with the child. I don't
think he was entirely convinced that Sarah was actually raped, you
see. But if he'd seen her straight afterwards, like I had, there
wouldn't have been any doubt."

"Why hadn't he seen her? Didn't she go home?"

"Her husband was a long-distance lorry driver, he was away a lot.
Sarah came to me when she was raped, she didn't know what else to
do. I wanted her to go to the police, but she wouldn't. Thought they
wouldn't believe her. My God, if they'd seen the state she was in!
He was a monster, whoever he was. She was covered in bruises and there
was blood everywhere. Damn near broke her skull. She was lucky to
be alive."

"So, Catriona lived with her aunt and uncle then?"

"That's right. Brian and his wife adopted Catriona, they thought that
would be best, rather than have her go to strangers. I'm afraid my
wife took it very badly."

"Your wife?" asked Scully. She felt she ought to have a scorecard
to keep track of the Malone family tree. Things were getting more
complicated than she expected.

"Yes. After the rape, I was seeing a lot of Sarah, I was the only one
who knew, you see. She didn't even tell her family. I was only being
a friend to her, but my wife was convinced that we were having an
affair and that I was the father of Sarah's baby. They used to be
very good friends, but not any more."

Dr. Collins walked to the window and glanced out at the overgrown
lawn. He pulled the blind down, as though ashamed that Scully might
see it.

"Does anyone know who Catriona's real father is?" asked Scully.

"No, only Sarah, and she's not telling."

"Do you have any idea who might have taken Catriona, or where she
might have gone?"

"I'm sorry, Agent Scully. I wish there was more I could do to help."

So did Scully.

*****



She woke up with a pounding heart, the blankets a sweaty tangle around
her. The nightmare was back. She hadn't had it for quite some time,
ever since she and Mulder had become lovers in fact, eight months
ago. She reached out and tried to cuddle Mulder, but he wasn't
there.

She sat up in bed abruptly. Where had he gone? More to the point why
didn't he tell her he was going anywhere? As she scanned the room,
she saw a note propped up on the table where the television was
sitting. She draped a sheet around her and padded over.

It was brief and to the point.

"Scully. Gone for a run. Back soon. Mulder."

As long as that was all it was. Mulder hadn't tried ditching her for
a while, but she felt it was only a matter if time before his old
habits would creep back. He still felt that it was up to him and
up to him alone to save the world. Didn't he realise they were a
team? Especially now that they were married.

It had been a simple ceremony, held in her Mom's garden. Skinner and
her mother the only ones in attendance, to serve as witnesses. They
hadn't wanted anyone else to know. She had been surprised how very
supportive they both were, agreeing that a secret ceremony was best,
if that's what they wanted. They had intended to take a leave of
absence at the end of the month, in effect their honeymoon, but this
case had come up and that was the end of that.

They had been in Ireland for three weeks and were still no closer
to finding Catriona and her baby. It was also three weeks of lying
next to Mulder and yet being unable to touch him. He'd wanted to
make love a few times, but Scully couldn't face it. The case was
getting to her and she just couldn't relax enough, even when they
were alone in their hotel room.

She decided to take a shower while she waited for Mulder to come
back from his run. They were due to interview the coroner again today,
who had done the original autopsies. Scully could still see the
black and white pictures of the girls and their babies, the chest
cavities ripped apart. She didn't know how much longer she could
go on, before everything collapsed around her.

She just wanted it to be over. That Catriona and the baby would just
walk in and everything would get back to normal.

That was the problem, though. As long as they were working on the
X-files nothing could be normal.

Scully turned on the shower, willing her brain to switch off for a
few minutes. It was like a constant radio in her head, she just
wanted some peace for a while, was that too much to ask?

The water was too cold when she got in. It would never clean her.
She turned the temperature up as far as it would go, ignoring the
steam rising from the shower head. The needles of water stung her
with searing heat and she could feel her body blistering, but she
chose to ignore it. She had to get clean, she had to. She felt
filthy after the dream. The dream of THEM and what THEY did to her.

The hot water ran out, and she stood under the cold spray, shivering
and shaking. But she couldn't get out yet, she wasn't clean. She
had to get clean. If she wasn't clean, Mulder would see how dirty she
really was and he wouldn't want her.

She took the scrubbing brush and rubbed herself raw, so raw that
it was painful, but she accepted the pain. She deserved it, didn't she?
She was filthy, unclean, defiled and vile. Mulder would soon see
through her and then where would she be?

Trying to see through tears and the spray of water, she tuned off the
shower and stepped gingerly from the tub. It was difficult to get
dried with the rough hotel towels, and she winced more than once
when she rubbed a bit too vigorously over her tender flesh.

She glanced up in alarm when she sensed Mulder at the door of the
bathroom.

"My God! Scully, what have you done to yourself?"

"I - nothing. The water was just a little hot. I'm okay."

"Scully, look at yourself! You're not okay, you're burned. Did
you put cold water on it?"

Scully nodded, remembering the cold shower spray.

"Maybe I should see the coroner, and let you get some rest."

"No. I'm fine, Mulder. I don't need to rest, we just need to solve
this case. And you're not doing it without me."

"Fine. Just give me a minute to get showered and we can go."

"There's no more hot water," said Scully, feeling guilty.

"It'll have to be a cold one, then, won't it? Probably for the best,
anyway, isn't it?"

Scully didn't dignify that with a reply. How could he make a remark
like that? He knew what she'd been through, and he knew how upsetting
this case was. She just couldn't turn on and off her libido like a
tap, even if Mulder could.

She brushed past him into the bedroom and began to get dressed. She
would have to play it very cool from now on. There was no point in
getting Mulder involved. Maybe he would think she was upset about
the case and nothing more. She hoped so.

Because the thing was, she didn't know what was wrong herself.

*****


The journey to the coroner's office was made in an uncomfortable
silence. Scully felt tears very close to the surface, but she held
them back. She didn't want to cry in front of him. Crying was one
weakness she couldn't afford right now. She glanced at him a few
times, hoping to catch his eye, but he kept his eyes on the road
ahead, hardly acknowledging her presence at all.

Scully wondered what was wrong. Surely he couldn't have been mad
at her because she scalded herself a little in the shower? Or maybe it
was because they hadn't made love for so long and he was getting a
bit frustrated? She thought he would have been more understanding
than that.

"Mulder?" there was more than his name implicit in the question.

"You lied to me, Scully. You lied."

"What are you talking about? When?"

"For months now. There's no point in denying it. I found them."

"Found what?"

"Your pills. Your *contraceptive* pills. I thought you were meant
to be infertile? Have you been lying all this time? Saying that
you don't want children, when all the time what you meant was that
you didn't want my children, is that it, Scully?"

Scully burst out laughing, but Mulder didn't see the funny side.

"Mulder, you idiot! They're hormone pills, not contraceptives.
When I came back from my - my - abduction, my cycle was all over
the place. I have to take replacement hormones, otherwise I'd go
through an early menopause. They keep my cycle regular, that's all."

"I'm sorry, Scully, I just thought - well never mind."

"It's okay, Mulder. I'm upset about it too. You know I would love
to have your baby if it were possible, don't you?"

"I know, Scully." He reached over to caress her cheek.

"And I'm sorry for being such a pain lately. I don't know what's
got into me."

"It's this case, Scully. It would get to anybody. How about when
its over, we go away somewhere, just the two of us?"

"A belated honeymoon you mean?"

"Yep."

"Sounds good to me," replied Scully as Mulder turned into the hospital
car park.

The coroner, Dr. Coleman was so tall that he towered over Mulder and
dwarfed Scully. His shoulders were slightly hunched, as though he
was embarrassed about his height and tried to make himself as small
as possible. His suit was tired and creased, matching the wrinkles
underneath his eyes. He kept sniffling, as though he had a cold, but
Scully thought it might have been from all the chemicals he came
into contact with every day. She was glad she wasn't doing autopsies
full time.

Mulder spent the time while Scully was interviewing the doctor roaming
round the morgue and looking intently at each drawer, maybe wondering
about the occupants.

"Did you notice anything unusual about the bodies?" asked Scully.

"Besides the fact that they were ripped apart, you mean?"

"Yes. Were there any puncture wounds, needle tracks, anything like
that?"

"I hope you're not suggesting that I tell their families you suspect
they've been involved with drugs?"

"I'm not suggesting that. I'm interested in your theory as to how
the girls became pregnant. Was there anything to suggest some form
of artificial insemination?"

"I don't see how that would have allowed the hymen to remain intact."

"What if it was injected somewhere else?"

"The semen?"

"Yes, what if it was somehow injected into the girls' ovary or
fallopian tube through her abdomen? If it was timed right, and they
were ovulating, wouldn't they have become pregnant?"

"I've never heard of this procedure, is it American?" asked the
doctor.

"I don't know if it's even feasible, I'm just trying to figure out
some way that this is scientifically possible."

"You'll have a hard time convincing people of that. Everyone is
convinced that's it's a miracle. The hand of God, not science."

"But why were they murdered? And why carve the word "devils" on
their chest?"

"Religious fanatic, that's my bet. Have you talked to Catriona's
father? He's hell bent on ridding the world of depravity, as he
sees it. Unmarried mothers were just one of the things he gets on
his soapbox about."

Mulder walked over to them, trying to avoid the slab in the middle
of the room, but Scully could see his eyes drawn to it just the
same. What was he imagining? Himself on there? Or was it her? She
shivered, and it had nothing to do with the air conditioning.

**********


Brian Malone was an angry man. A man who thought that the answers
to life's problems lay in the bottom of a whiskey glass and in his
fists. He was nursing his second glass of the evening and glaring
at the prone form of his wife as she lay still and motionless
against the side of the door. Look what she'd made him do. There
was a large smear of blood by the wall, where she had hit her head
on the way down. He was still staring at the glass of liquor when
the police came for him.

**********


It was dark where she was and cold. She couldn't get warm, no
matter what she did. Her hands and feet were numb, her throat
raw from crying and screaming. Neither of them seeming to have
any effect on her captor or captors. Her breasts ached, heavy
with milk that she couldn't give to Joshua, because they had
taken him away from her. They took her baby and left her here
to die. She was going to die, she knew it, but the thought of
death didn't scare her. It was the thought of what they might
do to her first.

**********


Scully paced up and down the interview room while Mulder tried
to question Brian Malone about the death of his wife and the
disappearance of his adopted daughter. He wasn't saying anything.

"Why did you kill your wife?" asked Scully quietly, hoping to
shock him into revealing something. He just smiled at them, before
giving all his attention to a non-existent piece of fluff on his
jacket. Scully felt like screaming with frustration, and if the
look on Mulder's face was anything to go by, so did he.

Mulder grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and stalked
out. Scully was about to follow him when Brian stood up and
beckoned to her. She glanced nervously at the door but Mulder
was long gone. The gardai sergeant stood outside the door,
looking bored.

Scully walked towards Brain Malone, checking that her gun
was ready to use if she needed it. He bent over the table and
whispered in her ear, with what she hoped was some pertinent
information.

"The maiden mother has no head."

Just that cryptic statement. Nothing more. No confession. No clue
as to where Catriona might be. Scully felt like punching him.
Instead she walked out and slammed the door as hard as she
could.

Mulder was in the canteen, drinking coffee when she found him.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"Malone wanted to talk to me."

"Did he give you anything useful?"

"Not unless you're into cryptic crosswords. Something about the
maiden mother has no head."

"Any idea what it means?" asked Mulder.

"No. Unless...no that's too easy." Scully called over one of the
policewomen who was eating her lunch and pretending she wasn't
eavesdropping in their conversation, but failing miserably.

"Yes, Agents?"

"Lucy, isn't it?" asked Scully. "Do you know if there's an old
church somewhere around here? Maybe the windows or statues are
broken? A statue of the virgin Mary without a head?"

Mulder smiled at Scully, realising what she was getting at.
Progress at last.

"Yes. St. Brigid's. It's about half an hours drive away. I
can take you there if you like."

"Great. Can you arrange some back-up as well? I think we
might need it," said Mulder.

"Back-up? For an old church?"

"Not for the church. For what's in it. I think we may have
found Catriona."

************




Catriona was in the old church, in a vault below the altar which
Scully guessed may have been the crypt. Catriona was in shock,
emaciated and dehydrated. Her abductor had given her nothing
to eat, and only a glass of water a day. It was all that was
keeping her alive. They took her to hospital as soon as possible
where she was treated for hypothermia and shock. She kept
calling for Joshua, but Catriona's baby was nowhere to be found.

The doctor at the hospital had to sedate her before she would
rest. Seeing that she was settled and knowing that she wouldn't
be able to tell them anything about her ordeal until she was
stronger, Scully suggested that they go and tell Sarah O'Keefe
that Catriona would be all right.

They were both silent on the journey, the only noise coming from
the engine. Scully wondered if Mulder was thinking about what
Catriona had gone through, or was he thinking of what his sister
may have gone through? Maybe he was even thinking of Scully's
own abduction. That's what she was thinking about. She couldn't
get the image of what they'd done to her out of her head. It
was like being continually plagued by a nightmare, only this
nightmare was real.

Scully wanted to believe that Catriona would be okay, but she
knew it was a futile hope. Scully wasn't okay yet. Some days
she felt like she just wanted to crawl into a corner and die.
It felt as though Mulder was the only thing keeping her sane.

When they reached Sarah O'Keefe's house, she was nowhere to be
found. But they did find something else in the kitchen. Formula
milk, bottles and nappies. Scully stared hard at the evidence
that confronted them, yet couldn't quite believe it. They'd been
wrong all along. It wasn't Catriona's father they had to worry
about. It was her mother.

The place was in a mess, dirty dishes in the sink, a bin filled
to overflowing and giving off a terrible stench. It reminded
Scully of cabbage that had been boiled too long, reminiscent of
school dinners. It looked like Sarah had left in a hurry.

By unspoken agreement they went back to the car and headed for
the only place they knew of to look. Back to the old church.
Why would Sarah kidnap Catriona and baby Joshua? It didn't make
sense. Did she also kill the other three girls and their babies?
Why? That was the question she hoped would be answered.

They found Sarah in the church, baby Joshua in her arms, leaning
by the altar. She set the baby down on the altar, where he promptly
began screaming. Scully watched as Sarah took out a knife and
hold it to the baby's neck.

"Keep away. I'll do it. They had to die, can't you see?"

"But why, Sarah? They're only children," said Mulder, inching his
way forward.

"Evil children. Spawn of the devil. That's what they are. They
have to die." Sarah raised the knife in the air and brought it
down towards the baby.

"NOoo!" screamed Scully and dived for Sarah, knocking the knife
from her hand. In the ensuing struggle, the knife nicked Joshua
just below his chin. Sarah staggered back, holding her eyes and
shrieking.

"Now! Can't you see? Can't you see what he is?" she sobbed.

Scully and Mulder looked at the baby to see what Sarah was
talking about. They saw all right. Scully felt the world tilt
and then she was in Mulder's arms. Joshua was bleeding.

His blood wasn't red. It was green.

*************



She came to with the wailing of sirens ringing in her ears. Mulder
was leaning over her with Joshua in his arms. Scully looked beyond
him, Sarah was sitting on one of the pews, holding her handcuffed
hands to her face.

"Are you okay?" asked Mulder, rocking the baby.

"Did you see?" she asked him.

"I saw," replied Mulder quietly. There was silence, except for
the occasional sob coming from Sarah. As Scully stood up, she
glanced at the baby in Mulder's arms. There was no sign of any
cut. It looked as though he had healed himself.

The paramedics and police arrived, Scully and Mulder were happy
to let them take over, but not without warning them.

"Be careful with the baby. He has a - condition, his blood
is toxic, be sure to wear protective gear," said Scully to
the paramedics before walking outside and into the sunshine.
It didn't take long before Mulder followed her.

They waited until everyone had left. Scully broke down in
sobs as soon as the police car and ambulance had turned
onto the road. Mulder cradled her in his arms and she buried
her face in his chest. She couldn't seem to stop crying,
great massive sobs which tore at her soul. She felt a
wetness in her hair, and realised Mulder was crying too.

They clung to each other as the sun sank below the horizon,
each aware of the other's pain as keenly as if it was their
own.

Mulder pulled her tight against him before pulling away completely.
He was staring at the graveyard. The headstones were so covered
in moss and lichen that no names were visible. His shoulders were
stooped, as though he was trying to make himself smaller.

"Mulder? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, repeating the phrase that she must have told
him over a thousand times. Hers was a lie, and she guessed his
was too.

"I was just wondering," he said, walking towards one of the
graves, which had an elaborate stone angel as a marker. Scully
followed him, thinking that heels were not the best shoes
to wear walking around a muddy graveyard.

"If they had the technology to make virgins pregnant, maybe
they could help you."

Scully froze in her tracks, actually felt the blood in her veins
get colder as she stared at him. How could he even suggest that
to her? After what had been done to her, *against her will* , he
wanted her to crawl back to them for help?

"No, Mulder. Never," she said vehemently.

"But Scully, just think about it. If --"

"There's nothing to think about. I don't want anything
from them."

"Not even a baby?"

"Especially a baby! God, Mulder, how could you even suggest it?"

"Because I wanted a baby. Our baby."

"Exactly, Mulder. If we go to them for help, the baby would never
be ours. We would be beholden to them for ever. Do you want
that? Do you want another child like Emily? To be born only
to be experimented on and then die? Would you put another child
through that just because we want to be parents? Would you
put me through all that again?"

Mulder's silence spoke volumes.

"My God! You would! You'd have them experiment on me again, *rape*
me again just so you could have a child?"

"I didn't mean it like that," said Mulder quietly.

"If you want to be a father so badly, Mulder, maybe you should
have married someone else!"

"Maybe I should have," the words were spoken so softly that she almost
didn't catch them, but she heard. The words were out in the open now.

And there was no way to take them back.

********

They didn't utter a word on the way back to the hotel. Scully had
never felt this angry with him before. It was burning in her chest
and gnawing away at her insides. She could hardly bear to look
at him. He had his eyes fixed on the road and his hands clenched
so tightly on the steering wheel that his knuckles were white.
Not once did he glance in her direction, as maybe by not looking
at her he didn't have to acknowledge that she was there. But she
was there and she was mad as hell at him.

He pulled into the car park rather abruptly and she had to hold
on to the dashboard to stop herself from falling.

"I want to go and talk to Catriona," said Mulder, still not looking
at her. She noticed he said 'I' and not 'we'. Well, fine, if that's
the way he wanted to play it.

"Do what you like, Mulder. I'm staying here." She got out of the
car and slammed the door as hard as she could, but the effect
was spoilt somewhat by the fact that the strap of her bag got
caught in it and she had to open the door again to remove it.

It was only after the car drove out of sight that she let the
tears fall. Bitter salty tears that stung the back of her
throat and did little to relieve the pain she was feeling.

She should have realised that Mulder was a man driven, that
everything was extreme for him. Whether it was his quest for
Samantha, the cure for her cancer and now a child. He didn't
seem to realise that there would be big consequences for his
actions. Going to them for help should not even be an option.

What did he hope to achieve by going to them for help? An
alien hybrid like Emily, born only to die when they no longer
had any use for her? Mulder would be selling his soul to them
and she couldn't allow him to do that.

She debated whether or not to have a bath or shower before
going to bed, but in the end just washed her face and brushed
her teeth. It didn't matter what time Mulder came back, this
was one night she wouldn't be waiting up for him.

It was no surprise that she had nightmares given her mental
state.

In the dream she was in the white room again, the tall grey aliens
peering curiously at her with their black lidless eyes. She couldn't
move, couldn't wake up, even though she kept telling herself that
it was only a dream.

The room was slightly different from what she remembered when
she had been held captive there. There were windows here, set
high up in the wall, windows of stained glass. The white walls
dissolved and she was staring at he bard stone of the old church.

A storm was raging outside, rain battered against the windows,
a musical accompaniment to the wind's howls. Suddenly the
windows blew in, shattered glass cutting ribbons of red on
her bare feet. She looked up and saw gaping holes where the
heads of saints should have been. Glass and debris littered
the aisle, the wind whirling them around like a miniature
tornado.

<Dana> came a voice. She looked around but there was no-one
there. Her feet seemed to move of their own accord and led
her towards the altar, a marble slab for the top, supported
by two columns as the legs. There was a dip in the middle
of the top slab, as though it had been worn away by frequent
use.

<Lie down, Dana. It's soft. You're tired. You want to lie
down don't you?>

Her limbs suddenly felt heavy, as though they couldn't
support her weight. It would be good to rest. To lie down.
Just for a moment. Just for a while.

"Scully! No. Don't do it!" The voice was Mulder's but it
seemed such a long way away, it was hard to listen to him.
But the other voice was right here and she was so tired.

She lay down on the altar, surprised to see that she was
dressed in a white robe. As though she had been prepared
for this. She knew now what she was. A sacrifice.

Terror filled her and she tried to move, to get away, but
her arms and legs were immobile. Out of the corner of her
eye she saw a hooded figure without a face and in his hand
something glinted with reflected light. A knife. He had a
knife.

There was nothing she could do but watch as he brought the
knife down towards her abdomen and sliced her open. She
opened her mouth to scream but no sound escaped from her
locked throat.

There was blood everywhere. On her robe, on the walls, on
the floor, on the bed. The bed! She could see the bed.
She willed herself to wake up, but found no relief.

It wasn't a nightmare after all.

Mulder was there, staring at her with a look of utter
horror and incomprehension on his face.

"My God, Scully? What have you done?"

Mulder reached for the knife just as it fell from her
nerveless fingers.

*****

She knew she was in hospital long before she opened her eyes.
It had that hospital smell of stale vomit and disinfectant.
Mulder was holding her hand so tight that it hurt. She tried
to move them, but couldn't. Leather restraints pinned her
wrists to the bed. She thrashed about trying to get some
leverage.

"Ssh, Scully. It's okay. It's okay," soothed Mulder. But she
didn't want to be soothed. She wanted these things off. Now.
Didn't he know how terrified she was of not being able to
move?

"Mulder. Undo the straps. Please."

"I'm sorry, Scully. I can't."

"Why? Why am I restrained?"

"So you can't hurt yourself again."

"But I didn't hurt myself," said Scully, genuinely confused.

Then she remembered. A dream. A knife. Someone had stabbed
her in the dream. She looked at Mulder, desperate for an
explanation. Anything except the one that was rapidly
forming in her mind.

"What happened, Mulder? I can't remember." She felt the
tears stinging her eyes and tried to hold them back, but
it was no use. They fell with a force which surprised her.

"I came back and found you on the bed. You were cutting
yourself with a knife. Your abdomen mostly, but also
on your legs and thighs. You've lost a lot of blood, but
the doctors think you'll be okay. Physically, anyway."

Scully glared at him. "They think I'm mad?"

"Would any sane person do that to themselves, Scully?"

"But I didn't! I was having a dream and somehow, they got
mixed up. I didn't deliberately harm myself, Mulder. You've
got to believe me."

"You were cut in your dream?"

"Yes. I don't even know where that knife came from. It
wasn't there when I went to bed."

Mulder looked puzzled, but not as much as she was. She
knew she hadn't deliberately knifed herself, but how
else could it have happened? Mulder had found her with
the knife and jumped to the obvious conclusion. But was
it the right one?

They turned their head as they heard running footsteps
in the corridor. The door burst open to admit Sarah
O'Keefe, brandishing a knife that looked remarkably
like the one Mulder had found on Scully that morning.

"You have to die!" she cried, lunging at Scully.

Mulder intercepted her wrestled her to the ground,
the knife falling with a clatter to the floor.

Doctors and nurses came running in, one of them
carrying a straitjacket. They bundled Sarah up and
took her away. Mulder collared one of the doctors as
they were leaving.

"What is going on? Why isn't she in jail?" he demanded.

"I'm very sorry, Agent Mulder. She's in the psychiatric
wing pending the trial, but she somehow got out of
her restraints. We only discovered it this morning."


"So she could have been missing since last night?" asked
Mulder with a pointed look at Scully. The doctor blushed
and they had their answer.

Mulder undid the straps holding Scully's wrists and rubbed
them to get the circulation going again. The doctor was about
to protest when he saw the icy glare Scully gave him.

"I'll get someone to check you over, Agent Scully. Just
to make sure you and the baby are all right."

"What did you say? Is that some sort of sick joke?"

"I - I- - I'll go and get Dr. Collins," he stammered.

A short while later Dr. Collins arrived and explained
everything. Scully was in fact pregnant, three months
in fact. She couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe
that she hadn't known. She just hoped that taking
the hormone pills hadn't done any lasting damage.

"I don't understand. I don't have any ova, how could
I have got pregnant?"

Dr. Collins didn't have an answer for her, but Mulder had
a theory of sorts. She didn't see Dr. Collins leave.

"Maybe some of your ova were left behind. Perhaps no
technology, even theirs is one per cent foolproof.
Are you happy about it, Scully?"

"I don't know. It'll take a while to get used to. All
this time thinking we can't have any children and now,
it seems to have happened so suddenly."


"Are you still mad at me?" asked Mulder.

"What for? Keeping me here or talking to Catriona
without me?"

"Both, I suppose." He hung his head, like a child
who'd been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"I can never stay mad at you for long, Mulder. You should
know that by now. What did Catriona have to say? Are we
any nearer to solving the mystery?"

"She thinks Joshua is the second coming, his father is not
of this earth."

"Well, she's got that right. Any explanation for how she
got pregnant?"

"She said an angel came to her and told her she had been
chosen to be the mother of a very special child. The angel
put her to sleep and she woke up pregnant."

"As easy as that?" said Scully bitterly. "but was it an
angel or was it something else?"

"I think we both know the answer to that, Scully."

She nodded. They did know the answer. But the why? Why
were they doing this? Surely there was an easier way
to colonise, if that was their ultimate goal?

"Do you have a theory?" asked Scully.

"Do you remember Jeremiah Smith and how he healed people?
What if they are trying to create hybrids who look human
and can perform miracles? What would people think? What
would they believe?"

"They'd believe that the hybrids were God, or that God
was working through them."

"And what else? If people thought the hybrids were holy,
what would they do?"

"Anything they were asked to do. They'd obey because they'd
think the orders came from God."

"Exactly, Scully. Imagine it. An army ready to do your
every bidding. Ask them to murder each other, it's done.
Ask them to kill themselves, it's done."

" 'Thy will be done.' " Scully felt the world as she knew
crumble and fall away beneath her feet. Controlling the
population. Control. That's what they'd wanted all along.
A slave race to do their bidding, no questions asked, but
the race in question wouldn't realise it had been enslaved
until it was to late.

Scully jumped as she felt a slight fluttering in her abdomen.

"I think that was his first kick," she said to Mulder with
a mile. "Here, can you feel it?" she grabbed Mulder's hand
and placed it on her tummy. The baby kicked again and she
saw the tears running down his cheek.

"We can't let them win, Scully, we can't."

"I know, Mulder. We have to fight them every step of the way."

Especially now. She clasped his hands tightly with her own,
cradling the new life inside her.

They had something worth fighting for.

END

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